6. We Are Family

"What do you mean he took Robin?"

"I mean the psycho version of Batman blew up the damn tunnel we were in, and he was down there. I've got Alfred's freaky cousin with me here," Jason snarled, sending a kick at the man's foot. Not too long ago Jason had dumped the unconscious body of darkside Alfred Pennyworth onto the floor.

"Damnit, Jason-"

"I know," Jason snarled, grinding his teeth together as he glared down at the man. It was all he could do to keep from kicking him in the ribs.

"We'll propose a prisoner exchange."

"Yeah. But while we have him, we might as well find out what he knows," Jason said, squatting down beside the clown-faced clone. Barbara was babbling something in his ear now, but he was paying no attention. This man was part of the group responsible for too much damage. Everyone that Jason preferred not to think about, preferred not to care about, had been endangered in the past few weeks. Dick, Alfred... maybe even Tim. And now the little demon-spawn himself.

Jason Todd wasn't too concerned about the morals Barbara was reminding him about.

"Right. Yeah. Talk to you later." Reaching up he turned off the communicator in his ear. He let the room stay silent for only a moment before leaning further over Alfred. "So, scumbag. How long have you been awake?"

Damian couldn't sleep. He was used to hard surfaces, so it wasn't the fact that he was on the floor that was getting to him.

Alfred was resting on the cot across the room. The elderly man had tried to get his youngest charge to use it, but Damian had flatly refused. He had accepted only a spare blanket. As far as he could tell, Alfred was sleeping now; likely far too accustomed to the accommodations not to. This thought only deepened the scowl on his already stony face.

Damian had set his blanket down where he had a good view of the door, the only access point to the room. It bore several fresh grooves wrought by the steel toes in his shoes, the only useable weapon he had left. The door had, unsurprisingly, not budged, and Alfred had coaxed him into resting.

Instead, he stared at the door. And several minutes ago, someone had walked oh-so-silently up behind it.

It was more movement than anything else Damian had sensed. Without the lamp beside Alfred's bed turned on, there was no other source by which to see. They were too far underground for any sort of ambient light to filter down, so no amount of straining would give any sort of night vision. Of course, his father had trained him for moments like this.

Even without his eyes, he still had four senses to use. Three that were more useful than the others.

"Grayson?" Damian finally whispered, his voice cutting the silence like a knife. The faint breathing he had heard stopped. Getting onto his knees, Damian crawled swiftly to the door and put his hand against the frame. "Grayson, are you there?"

The not-quite-silence was still there, but he got no response. Why? It had to be Dick on the other side. What would Owlman get out of lurking like such a creep outside their dingy prison?

"You must get Pennyworth out of here, Grayson. He's catching a cold, but hiding it well," he hissed. "It's too damp for him down here."

With his hand against the door, Damian could feel slight vibrations coming through from the other side. Damian closed his eyes against the darkness and pressed his forehead against the panel, his fingers curling up against the wood. The vibrations stopped, but were followed by the sound of grating soil- someone standing up. Damian listened to the faint footfalls as they moved away, and once again the air was still and he sat in the dark.

"Should I begin practicing a cough, Master Robin?" Alfred asked in a whisper from across the room. Damian turned and sat against the door, looking towards Alfred more out of habit than the fact that he could see him.

"If he knows where we are, why hasn't he just let us out?"

"You always ask the good questions, young Sir. All of which I'm sure we will discover answers to," Alfred sighed. There was a high creaking sound as the cot shifted. "Please, come and help an old man keep his bones warm."

Without conventional means of keeping track of time, Damian could only guess that it was several hours later when the door was pushed open. Light spilled into the room from the exterior, and Damian immediately was on his feet. Alfred sat up at a slower pace.

"Owlman," Damian said, his voice crisp.

"I have been informed that my Alfred Pennyworth will be kept in good condition. I, however, am not so certain I should believe it," the armored man stated. His voice was alarmingly similar to Bruce's.

"They won't harm Mr. Pennyworth, Owlman." The third voice that joined the conversation was calm.

Damian felt it hit him like a jolt of electricity, and he turned his eyes on the intruder. Despite the owl-shaped mask he wore, Damian knew who it was. The voice sounded oddly stiff but it most definitely belonged to Richard Grayson. Damian had been beginning to believe that it wasn't him at all, working alongside the Imposter.

"Nightwing," He said, forcing his voice to be hard; the codename coming from his mouth out of habit with others present.

"Richard is going by Talon now," Owlman said, his voice cold and smooth… and so very much like Father's. Damian flicked his eyes back to the man, his hands clenching into tight fists. His ears were ringing in anger, eyes fueled with hate as he stared at the man before him. This man… who had not only aided in the capture of Nightwing, but helped to reveal his identity to the world and obviously forced him, somehow, into servitude?

Damian launched himself at Owlman, and the man smoothly sidestepped. He grabbed Damian's arm as he passed, torquing it behind his back. Damian grunted. Foolish mistake.

"I have no wish to harm you, Damian."

Damian felt as though he'd been slapped as his identity spilled from the man's mouth. He stopped squirming and his face soured as sent an accusatory look towards Grayson, but the man remained still and silent behind his stupid Talon mask. Damian's hands curled into fists and he grit his teeth. As a faint chuckle emitted from Owlman, Damian realized his anger wasn't directed at the man who had betrayed him. Owlman released him with a light shove, and Damian stumbled back.

He turned his eyes to the 'Talon,' and found the mask gracefully tilted away from him.

"How could you do this? How could you work with him?" Damian sneered. Talon didn't so much as flinch. "How could you lock Pennyworth down here? It's cold. It's dirty. It's undignified," Damian exclaimed, gesturing to the chamber pot in the corner.

"That is enough, Master Robin," Alfred's voice sliced through the room, and Damian stopped. "What is the business of the day, Owlman?" He asked.

"You may bring Mr. Pennyworth to his new location, Talon," Owlman replied. Damian watched as Dick moved into the room, sidestepped around him, and took the butler gently by the arm.

"I assure you I am quite able to walk on my own, Master Grayson," Alfred said, but Dick didn't remove his hand as he escorted the butler from the dingy room. Damian's eyes trailed after them until they were well out of sight. Damian's gaze flickered sharply back to Owlman.

"What's to stop him from taking Pennyworth and leaving, Owlman?" Damian growled, his fingers cutting into his bare palms now.

"Not you, if that's what you were thinking," Owlman said, his tone as chilly as the underground room they stood in. Owlman paced forward, moving around Damian at an arm's length to stand firmly in the entryway. "Richard wasn't initially forthcoming with your identity," he said, and Damian felt a moment of satisfaction. Owlman continued. "I was convinced you were an imposter."

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. The irony appeared to be lost on the other man, however, as he continued talking as if there hadn't been an interruption.

"...Johnny Quick took care of Red Robin. 'Robin' was marked down as deceased... as far as I was concerned, there were none left."

"There will always be a Robin in Gotham City," Damian sneered at him, lip curling.

"You're a pathetic example. Your fighting certainly isn't up to the standards of one who trained under Batman, if your performance in the tunnels yesterday is any example. And the warehouse before that. Yes, I'm aware that was you. A foolish move, on both your parts." Owlman was standing solidly with his hands behind his back, his head tilted downward to reach the younger boy's gaze. Damian, meanwhile, was seething.

"So what do you want me for, then? Why keep me alive?

"I told you, Damian. I have no desire to injure you. Not anymore, anyway. Now that I know who you are." He smiled, and the expression nearly sent a shiver down Damian's already shuddering spine. "We're family."

"We're not," Damian snarled, his lip curling back.

"We are. More so than Alfred and I, or even Richard," Owlman said.

"He's not yours, Grayson."

"No. But with time, he will be. There was a Richard on my home planet, you know. He was… like a brother," the man said, in a way that made Damian's skin crawl. "He got killed. Dismembered. Each piece wrapped in a pretty package, courtesy of the Joker."

Damian tried not to picture the scene, because imagining Grayson inside little boxes wasn't an image he wanted in his head. But it sounded like some things didn't change between worlds; maybe the Joker's level of insanity transcended even continuity.

"So you and your pathetic League came here to start over, because you destroyed everything you lived for there? Because you messed up? You can't have what is ours."

"No, we can't. We make it our own first," Owlman said, stepping back out of the room, his hand on the door. "I'll be honest, Damian. I thought you would enjoy the idea of working alongside your former partner again."

Damian had the decency to look surprised, though it quickly cleared. Certainly this was just a ploy.

"I demand to speak with Grayson before I would even consider putting myself on a parallel with you," Damian said, lifting his chin. A sound came from Owlman that was frighteningly close to a chuckle, and it made Damian grit his teeth.

"Of course not. But he's occupied at the moment. I'd make myself comfortable, Damian."

Owlman shut the door, and with the series of muted clicks it was locked.

Jason was staring down at the somewhat bloodied form of Alfred Two. Hitting him hadn't been as hard as he'd thought. The man looked almost exactly like the elderly gentleman that had helped to raise him, outside the pallor of his skin and the slightly-green tint to his hair. The real difference, though, was the malice in his eyes and the sneering look of arrogance on his face that remained no matter how much Jason threatened him. It was that very complete lack of apparent heart that made this A. Pennyworth, and his own, look so very different.

The blood leaking out of his broken nose helped, too.

"I asked you a question. Remember what we talked about with the timely answers?" Jason asked, as there was an annoying buzz from the communications screen behind him. Probably Barbara, trying to berate him for his handling of the situation. He ignored it.

"Grid recorded the encounter in the warehouse. They are interested in the boy due to his claims of being an Al Ghul."

"And what would they do with him?"

"Use him to lead them to the Demon's Head, of course. If he was unforthcoming… well. Ultraman is fond of violence," Pennyworth said, the corner of his lip quirking as he sat up and dabbed at the blood dripping from his nose. "But given Richard's reaction to the child I would lean towards the latter. They are not complete fools, it was clear he was protecting the boy."

"He might be darkside, but he doesn't like hurting kids. Runs in the family."

"How saintly. Owlman doesn't quite feel the same, ha," Pennyworth said, the corner of his thin lips twitching in amusement. "And here you are, wasting your time on me-"

"You've done me a favor taking the brat off my hands for a little while. Frankly, I'm not too worried for him," Jason said, scowling down at the man. His hand was resting heavily on the handle of his 9mm pistol. The more he stared at the man, the more he felt like just blowing his head off. "How likely is Owlface to turn him over to the rest of his doom league?"

"I thought you said you were unconcerned," Pennyworth said, and Jason punched him in the face. The man groaned and slouched to the side, reaching up to caress his jaw with one hand. "Owlman enjoys his space from the rest of the League."

"You don't seem too happy about that," Jason said, watching the way the man's lips twitched irritability.

"Perhaps I just don't enjoy being struck in the face," Pennyworth replied, and Jason hated the fact that he and Alfred shared a similar deadpan sense of humor.

"Yeah, but I'm getting a real kick out of it. So keep on avoiding my questions, I'm having a fine old time. How is Owlface keeping reigns on Dick?"

"We have your Butler."

"Only after the fact. Before they took him."

"I'm certain you have seen the footage-"

"Meaningless without context. What does he want?" Jason said, advancing on the man and shoving his head down onto the flooring. Pennyworth cringed, his lips curling back to reveal purple gums.

"It's obvious. A partner. A brother," Pennyworth sneered, and Jason shoved his head a little harder into the ground.

"I don't believe that," he said. "That's too much to risk on someone you don't even know. He's deluded. And creepy."

"And there we agree, my heavy-handed captor, ha," Pennyworth said, tapping his finger against the ground near his face.

"You'd speak badly about your 'Master'?" Jason asked, barely able to mask his surprise. Pennyworth rolled his eyes upward slightly, so he could look at Jason.

"Friend, not master," He spat. "I don't wear a mask. I am able to see all sides unblinded."

"Who are you, the fucking Riddler now?" Jason asked, rolling his eyes. The buzzing sounded again on the computer behind him, but Jason was ignoring it in earnest now.

"I think we have a similar desire. I wish to have Grayson out of my house, so to speak. You wish to have him back."

"I wish a lot of things," Jason muttered. Having Dick back had definitely not been something he ever would have thought would be on that list. And even now 'wish' was a bit of a strong sentiment for it. "Alfred and Robin too."

"The whole package," Pennyworth said, spreading his fingers in sincerity. Jason scowled at him as the computers- several now- kept up a continuous beeping across the room.

"I should trust you why?"

"Your world will soon be in ashes, ha. What choice do you have?"

"Well. I have a lot of choices. I have a 9mil and two .45s at my ready disposal, and that's only in a five-foot radius. I just don't have a lot of trust in twisted, clown-tinted, cross-dimensional old men who cater to psychos," Jason said, shrugging.

"Mmm. You could kill me. But you would shortly after lose everything." Pennyworth's voice took on a tone he hadn't heard yet that evening, and for the first time Jason believed what he was saying. He stepped back, surveying the thin man before him.

Pennyworth was wiping his nose when the computer began to buzz again. Jason grunted in irritation and reached up to turn his comm link on.

"What?"

"Dick has set up a location for the trade," Barbara's voice said, her voice sounding tight even over the link.

"What? Already? Shit. How?"

"Note in front of one of my webcams. He wants to meet at Pier 39 at 11:00."

Jason checked his watch. It was 10:45 they'd have to leave now if they wanted to make it in time. And Jason was sure they did.

"Way to give me a heads up-"

"I've been trying to get you for twenty minutes, Todd!" Barbara snapped, voice like venom.

"Just Alf or Robin too?" Jason asked, looking down at Greenie.

"Just Alf. He looks alright."

"Okay," Jason said. "Okay. I'm going. I'll keep you open and explain on the way over."

Too much time had passed since Damian had seen Richard Grayson march off Pennyworth as though he was some sort of prisoner.

"Goose-stepping bastard," Damian grunted to himself, because somehow it made him feel a little better. For a moment, anyway, before he felt ten times worse because he didn't understand. He knew, he knew there was something going on. There had to be a plan underfoot that he was unaware of. Because how could the Richard he knew allow Pennyworth to sit down here in the cold for so long?

Damian shivered slightly, and reached down to pick up the blanket on the small cot. He draped it over his shoulders, pulling tight. He imagined an exchange going on, Alfred for his green-haired imposter, and thought it was taking entirely too long.

Standing, Damian began to pace the small room once again, his mind replaying the earlier situation like a video on loop. He was a little ashamed by how shocked he had felt when Dick had entered the room. What if Grayson had been trying to convey some sort of message? He tried to analyze the words, the body movements, anything- but he just came up blank. It had been like looking a stranger. A stranger who knew his secrets, and had given them away. For what?

Damian stopped by the door and rested his forehead against it, closing his eyes. He was about to turn back when he heard a noise down the hall, echoey and distant. It was quiet at first, though it became abundantly clear very fast that it was someone yelling. The voice was deep, and though he couldn't make out the words he knew it had to be Owlman.

The yelling died down fairly quickly, but were immediately followed by the muted sounds of a fight. Damian pushed back from the door, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest.

"Hey!" He yelled, reaching up to pound on the door with his fists. Perhaps it was Todd? He pressed his ear to wood panel. It was hard to hear over the sound of the blood in his own ears. The muted sounds continued, along with a few shouts here or there belonging to both Owlman and someone else. There were no gunshots, so Damian eliminated Jason from the potentials.

"Grayson," Damian hissed, his fisted hand smoothing out until his palm pressed into the grain. He closed his eyes and listened for every tiny sound coming down the hall; he could tell they couldn't be too far away, but wherever they were had to be decent sized- the sounds would grow dim and then grow louder fairly quickly as if they were moving across a wide space.

He made out a word once, and all it said was 'Alfred.'

Shit.

"Hey! Hey! I demand you open this door!" Damian yelled, reaching up to pound on it again. He pulled back his foot and kicked the bottom of the door in a moment of tantrum, too late to remember that his steel-toed boots had been stripped and his big toe was only protected by a thin layer of sock when it connected with the wood. He sat down sharply, curses flying from his lips.

Only when he clutched his foot into his lap did he realize it had gone quiet outside. He sat forward, his ears pricking at the stillness.

And then footsteps, moving down the hall.

Towards him? Getting louder. There was weight behind the footsteps, and he recognized a defined limp. Damian scrambled to his feet, his blackened toenail forgotten. Footsteps and… dragging. Something heavy being pulled along dirt and now cobblestone, scraping…

The sounds stopped outside the door and a key turned in the lock. Damian moved back, getting into a defensive pose as the door was flung open. Owlman stood broadly in the doorway for a moment before entering. Damian noted with a hint of satisfaction that there was a stream of blood coming from his nose and lip, dripping a scarlet stream onto his bronze chest plate.

The satisfaction lasted only for the fraction of a second before his attention was drawn further downward. Damian felt his heart jump, and he swallowed sharply. Talon's ankle was clasped in Owlman's hand; his body stretched awkwardly behind him, arms trailing along the ground behind his head. Owlman loosened his grip and the armored foot landed heavily. He tossed something into ground- a small metal first aid kit skidded along the packed dirt floor until it stopped at Damian's feet.

"You wanted to talk to him. Here's your chance," Owlman growled. He spun on his heel and turned away, slamming the door behind him.

Damian wasn't even aware of the door locking again as he stared down at the crumpled black and bronze form before him.

A/N: New Chapter like whaaat? :P I can't believe how many of you were still reading/following this story despite it not being updated in a year, so I finally dusted off my notes and got to work. :P The rest is pretty much planned so I will try to keep it going. Thanks, you guys are nuts 3