Summary: He needed a moment. To be alone. It's not that he didn't appreciate his brother's concern being open when it was usually a bit more…guarded, he just needed some time to himself. Or Dick is kidnapped and needs a moment alone.
Sorry, this is a bit late but I guess better late than never.
Characters: Tim and Dick
Warnings: Slight talk/mentions about the aftermath of kidnapping/torture.
He needed a moment. To be alone. It's not that he didn't appreciate his brother's concern being open when it was usually a bit more…guarded, he just needed some time to himself. However much time that ended up being. It was about an hour since the others had come back from patrol, he still wasn't allowed until they could figure out exactly-
Yellow light, Dick realized and slowed to a stop. He was in a car, an older one of Bruce's. If he was caught, he was sure that they would be less mad if they caught him in a car rather than on his bike even though he really would like to feel his hair blowing through the wind right now. He, unfortunately, couldn't even have the window down. Despite the early hour, he wasn't alone on the street, there were quite a few people starting their day early.
When the light turned green he shifted into gear again. Part of him longed for Bludhaven, for freedom but he knew that Bruce and the others were right. He needed to stay until they found out what had happened to him while he had been with Grey. He shivered for a moment though it was actually fairly warm for the early hour, he turned the volume on the radio up a little. His sleep schedule was wrecked for reasons he rather not think of, eventually though everything would get back to normal. It had to. It had to. Just like it had been before Grey.
"Dick!" A loud voice came from his communicator. And just like that, his brief stint of freedom was over. He was already mentally planning where he was going to turn around when he answered like he was not on an ill-advised joy ride.
"Yeah," he replied to a furious-sounding Tim.
"You came back four days ago. We don't know what Grey did to you, none of the tests that have come back are conclusive." This he knew. He just never knew he would feel almost as trapped in the Manor as he had before. Besides, from what the scans they ran told him there was nothing different at least from the x-rays and MRIs that they could see.
"I just needed a moment," Dick said making a right turn, he still needed a moment but he knew that if he didn't turn back now he was going to be the case and all the Bats would bind together to try to get him to come back to the Manor.
"I'm on my way back now," his irritation seeped into his voice and he didn't do much to fight it. Couldn't he have more than ten minutes to himself? He knew that his family was just worried but it was so stifling. He had taken the long way out, but he should probably take the short way back so he could get back before they sent out the search party.
Tim ranted about the irresponsibility of him leaving, even though he hadn't even left Gotham just drove around for a few minutes. He hadn't even stepped outside or gone to a drive-through since anything could be going on with his body.
They had no idea why Grey had taken him or what he hoped to accomplish Dick listened to the rant without interrupting, despite wanting to mention that the past 3 months he had been stuck in one place, a terrible place and he had just been moved to a bigger cage and he felt like they wanted him to be happy about it. But he was the good big brother so he kept that part to himself and just let Tim rant at him as he drove.
He had spent less than 20 minutes on the road, he hadn't even thought of a destination yet and already he was on his way home. Two more turns and he was back on the highway that would take him almost all the way home. The thrum of the Mustang hummed underneath him and he wondered if Bruce would be more mad he left, or that he took the classic car with him?
Tim stopped ranting and trailed off leaving dead air on the communicator and Dick sighed as he realized something. He had been gone for 3 months. It was a difficult 3 months for him but his family hadn't even known if he was alive, not for sure. They were just worried about him, even if came with even more than normal overprotective tendencies and Tim was right that they had no idea if Grey had accomplished whatever he had been trying to do.
"I'm sorry," he spoke after a moment and as he turned onto a smaller road, "I've just been cooped up for so long," Dick said honestly. This time when Tim spoke he didn't sound angry and he spoke much softer.
"I'm sorry that it took us so long to find you." Dick took a sharp breath but didn't immediately respond. He had waited for them, he had waited for them to find him. He shoved that feeling down. He was the good big brother, or at least most of the time.
"It's not your fault," Dick replied softly. They had told him that they tried their best. They had told him the length they had gone to get him back. Most of the time he even believed it. Besides, where he had been was not the most obvious place.
"It's just-" Tim's words were interrupted by a flash of bright lights and his body flying forward. Pain radiated through his head and chest for a few moments, and then it all went black.
Someone was calling his name, he was so familiar but Dick didn't want to wake up. Pain, was the only thing that lay that way but it was too late the pain was inevitable.
Soon it was the only thing he was aware of. His eyes were still closed but he could feel it everywhere, especially in his head and his chest. There was something wrong. Really wrong. His head throbbed with pain, sending sharp spikes through his skull. Worse than any even migraines that he had before, it seemed to reach deeper inside of him somehow. It was like the pain was trying to hallow him out and his chest felt like there was a gaping hole in it, only not.
Nothing made sense. It was so hard to think with incessant excruciating pain. He tried to take a deep breath through his nose, a deep burning sensation flooded his body. Something was definitely wrong, he was definitely injured even though he wasn't sure where or what happened.
Was he dying? Was this the last thing in his life that he was going to experience? How had he gotten here? Where was his family? Why could he remember the feeling but none of their faces?
He heard the familiar voice again, he knew who it was but the name wouldn't come. Who did the voice belong to? The only word he could think of was family. Family. He wanted his family; the longing was almost as painful as the sensations rolling through his body. Family.
Strangely enough, as the moments passed instead of getting worse, the pain started fading. Maybe his body knew he was done for and there was no reason for it to produce pain when there was nothing that it could do? Except not all of it, he still couldn't breathe. He was wheezing and his chest still throbbed but his head, his head for some reason didn't hurt like it used to. It didn't make any sense. Was he dying?
He opened his eyes, at first nothing made any more sense than it had before and he wasn't sure what he was seeing. At first, it looked more like blurs and the blurs didn't mean anything. The longer he looked the more defined shapes became, even if they still didn't seem to resemble much of anything until he saw his own body. Or at least a part of it, he couldn't see his legs the dashboard was further out than it normally was. It was hard to see much of anything with the low levels of light. .
Car. Right. Car. He had been driving. Things were still fuzzy but he remembered he was driving. Had he lost control of the car? Had he hurt anyone? His thoughts were pulled away when he noticed the rather large sterling wheel column that was somehow stuck into his chest.
Oh. No wonder he couldn't breathe and the pain made sense now. Not that it made it any easier to bear, every moment was a struggle to breathe and every breath burned through him like fire.
"Dick! I'm coming. I'm on my way." Tim said. This time he knew that was Tim. Tim was coming for him, he would help him. His brother would make the pain stop.
He caught sight of his arm, there was a small wound on his wrist from looked like a torn piece of the car. It barely hurt compared to the steering wheel stuck in his chest. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He needed help. Help. He needed an ambulance. His fingers reached for the steering wheel column, he wanted it out. Out. But that way led to bleeding out. His medical training surged to the forefront telling him that he was only alive right now because the rod was keeping the blood inside of his body. Yet, his fingers still reached for it. He had to take it out, he had to take it out, his instincts were screaming.
No! The rod was keeping him alive. He just had to stay on until the ambulance got here or Tim came and brought him to safety. Except that he couldn't breathe. He was going to die anyway if he couldn't get the bar out of him.
No. It was keeping the blood in, if he panicked and took it out he would bleed out here in the car before help ever got to him. He needed to wait for Tim. Wait for Tim. He should talk to him. Only as he moved he realized that the device had rolled away and any movement of his chest made him nauseous and the feeling like he was swimming in an ocean of pain. Okay, Okay Tim would soon be here. He'd take him home or the hospital and they'd fix him. It was fine. It was all going to be fine.
Inventory, he should take inventory of his wounds. He lifted a hand up and touched his head, Nothing in the front, everything seemed normal but when he got to the back of his head he felt something wet and tacky but despite prodding his skull he couldn't find any wounds or even sore spots. Dick frowned, his head had been throbbing with pain. He had been expecting to at least have a small wound. It could be internal he supposed but it didn't hurt anymore which was even more bizarre. He moved his hands to inspect them and blinked because they had blood all over them, Blood but no wound, at least, not one he could feel. Strange. Definitely strange.
Dick winced hard as the movement must have shifted the column because pain flared up even more. Okay, maybe he should let Tim, or the ambulance drivers if it was bad enough for it, check him over. Maybe he should concentrate on staying still and just breathing.
The sound of a motorcycle in the distance filled the air. Tim? Probably Tim. He wasn't that far from the manor, though he wasn't exactly sure how long he had been unconscious or worse. Relief flooded through him. Tim would be here soon. Tim would fix it or get him an ambulance that would fix it, he just had to breathe. Just breathe in the meantime. He had had to stay awake and alert until help came.
Which was the only reason he let himself think about the mystery of his head. How could the back of his head be coated in blood if there was no wound? He had felt intense pain in his head when he woke up but now it was completely gone. Where had it come from? Why was it gone now?
"Dick, I'm closing in on your location." Tim would be there soon and- Dick glimpsed his left wrist out of the corner of his eye and frowned. Hadn't it just had a small wound a minute ago? He had been a little fuzzy when he had woken up but he was pretty sure there had been a wound on his wrist. He hadn't just imagined the wound, had he? Or the pain? Except now he noticed that was blood was still there at the edge of where he had thought the wound was .
How could the blood be there but not the wound? His head too. How could the blood be there but not the wound? Except he was sure that he had seen a wound on his wrist. Wounds didn't just go away. Unless….
Grey. Grey said that the others changed but he hadn't understood what he meant back then, what the purpose of his captivity had been other than Grey was trying to do something to him. It made him remember the conversation they had before his family had saved him. Grey had talked about change.
He was finally out of his cell but he was shivering. How was this room colder than his cell? Dick resolutely wrapped his arms around each other trying to broadcast an air of nonchalance he didn't feel. But at least hoped it projected brave. He wasn't going to give him anything. Even if after months he still didn't know what he wanted.
Frank smiled at him from his large computer chair-looking thing, If not for the kidnapping and torture he would look like a kind old grandpa. At least in his late sixties if not 70's. He was wearing a white lab coat that looked too large for him and wire frame glasses. He had deep-set wrinkles. He opened his mouth to ask what Frank wanted when Frank beat him to it.
"They'll be here soon to take you home and I'm not going to fight them. I'm sure it will all feel anticlimactic but there is something I must tell you before you go." Dick frowned, this was not how he expected this to go. An interrogation, yes. A new torture method, yes. But not this. He had gone through all the effort to kidnap him and yet he freely told him that his family was coming and he wasn't planning on stopping them? That he was going to let him go? There had be a lie, or something he wasn't telling him. People didn't just kidnap people, hold them for months, and let them just go. The way he was saying 'before you go,' rubbed him wrong too.
"You make it sound like I wanted-"
"Quiet!" Frank spoke sharply and for some reason, Dick couldn't explain he listened, if only for a moment. "There is limited time and when the time comes you must know."
"Know what?" For somehow who was so insisted that he know something he sure was beating around the bush.
"You are the culmination of my life's work." Dick scoffed.
"Your life's work is kidnapping people and torturing them?" He looked down looking even older than normal, if it was any other old man, he might feel sympathy for him.
"I just wanted to help people. Help people. The first group was volunteers, I made no promises."
"They were terminally ill and they jumped at any chance even a nominal one. There were no survivors, one changed but it didn't save him. I trailered my approach for those that lasted the longest. This time, there were two changes but only one survivor."
That's when I changed demographics, younger people, ready for a change. Most survived, half changed and the next group all lived and all but 1 changed. And I bet your wondering what the point of all this is." He was. " I want to explain why you because I'm sure you're asking yourself what nefarious plan I have. Hope. "
Somehow he doubted that.
You see when they got what they wanted they acted selfishly all of them, Humanity is selfish. They showed time and time again that their own interests always come first. So I thought I'd I could find someone who already selfless, who risked his life to help strangers, a vigilante, he might be better than the others." It still didn't make much sense. What did he mean by changed? Change of heart? Change of mind? Did he change them by giving them a deadly disease? What was Frank doing to him?
"So you kidnapped me? What did you do to me? If you're trying to spread hope start by telling me what you did to me?!"
"You'll understand when the time comes," Frank said then smiled. "They'll be here soon, you'll be going home. You may want to get ready. He pointed towards the corner and Dick spotted his Nightwing outfit. Even more strange, why would he give his suit back? He looked back for Frank to ask but he was gone.
Changed. Changed. He was pretty sure what Frank-Grey did to him now, somehow, despite his genes. He was pretty sure what he could do. He had to get out of the car but he was still stuck.
He heard the motorcycle close now and then cut off. Tim was there. They couldn't go to the hospital. They would know what he was and no one could know what he was. Besides, the most simple and fastest way to fix it was to fix this himself.
When Tim's motorcycle helmeted head came into view, he didn't feel the relief he had been expecting. Tim wouldn't understand and Dick didn't have time to explain, he grimaced this was going to hurt. He pulled the steering column, unfortunately, he didn't seem to put enough force behind it since it only moved an inch and Dick fought the urge to double over in pain. He had to get it out before Tim got close enough to stop him.
"Dick don't, " Tim sounded panicked as he approached the car but he didn't understand. Dick barely understood. He knuckled down and tried again, this time the column slid completely out of his chest. There would be no hiding this from Tim, he was going to see it. Dick straightened up and tilted slightly towards Tim through the smashed-in driver's side door. No matter how it looked, it would be easier than trying to explain it and Tim could tell the others.
Dick didn't look but he could feel a strange almost itchy feeling in his chest as slowly the pain faded, instead he watched his brother who couldn't seem to summon the poker face that they all possessed. Tim's mouth hung open in shock as he watched his flesh somehow knit itself back together.
"I think I know what Grey did to me now."