A/N: Some swearing in this chapter, peeps, just a heads up. Also, thank you to the awesome people who have commented so far. You rock! :)
oOo
Jason slouched in a chair at the back of the boardroom at Wayne Enterprises. It was Monday morning and Bruce had called a meeting with the most senior members of his security team to discuss the events of Friday night. Lucius Fox was also in attendance; nothing happened at Wayne Enterprises that he wasn't privy to.
Bruce entered the room and Jason chuckled to himself as all the men – with the exception of himself and Lucius – jumped to their feet. He knew it was Thomas Lee's military background that was responsible for that formality, but Jason still found it hilarious; it was like watching the president enter the room.
"I'm sorry for keeping you gentlemen," Bruce said, reaching the top of the table, "but I just received a phone call from the hospital. I'm afraid Eric Johnson passed away early this morning."
Jason's smile dropped from his face. Eric was one of the three security guards shot by the masked gunmen on Friday night. He was now also the fifth casualty; two civilians had died as well.
Bruce's expression was dark as he looked around the room. "Maggie is arranging condolence books for each of the guards. Please let your teams know that they will be available from this afternoon should any staff member wish to sign them. Maggie will also send a memo to all departments."
Heads nodded around the table and Jason could see that some of them were upset at the news; Eric had been well-liked.
"Now, to the matter at hand," Bruce continued. "The possibility that someone on our security team is responsible for passing on information to the gunmen. Thomas, would you fill everyone in on what you know so far?"
"Of course, Mr. Wayne." Lee remained on his feet while everyone else sat down.
"You all know that the gunmen were able to gain entrance to the ballroom through the French doors because Mr. West was lured away by the charms of a young woman," Lee began. "We now know that the woman in question was not on the guest list which adds weight to the suspicion that this was an inside job. Only a member of our security team could have gotten her inside the ballroom."
"How do you know this woman wasn't on the guest list?" asked Keith Daniels, one of the oldest members on the Wayne security team.
"In the aftermath of the shooting, the young woman slipped away," Lee replied. "No one seems to know who she was and everyone on the guest list was accounted for. The only explanation for her presence is that she was in on the attempted heist."
Something clicked in Jason's memory. "What did this woman look like?" he asked. Every head in the room turned to look at him but he ignored them.
Of the twelve senior members on the Wayne security team, Jason was the only one who hadn't been working for Wayne Enterprises for years. He knew most of them still didn't trust him, but he didn't particularly care; the opinions of people not close to him had never mattered to Jason.
Thomas Lee frowned. "Does it matter what she looks like?"
"It does if I think I might know who she is," Jason retorted shortly.
There were one or two whispered gasps around the table. Again, Jason ignored them.
Lee raised an eyebrow. "West said she was wearing a purple dress, blonde hair…very attractive."
Jason sighed. Damn. "Her name is Lori something; she works at Flash Harry's." He was angry at himself for not seeing this sooner; he had known something was off about that woman being there, but he had been so blind-sided by his attraction to her that he had ignored his gut instinct.
"And just how do you know that, Jason?" demanded Keith Daniels, staring at him with mistrust. In fact, several faces around the table were now studying him with wary expressions.
Jason realized that a few of them suspected him of being the one who had leaked the security information. "I've seen her working at Flash Harry's," he replied, not bothering to explain why he had been there. Every member of the Wayne security team had been drinking in that bar at some point. "She approached me at the party."
"Was that the woman I saw speaking with you and Dick?" Lee demanded, his forehead crinkling in remembrance.
Jason nodded.
"What did she want?"
"To flirt. She'd lost her date and said she was bored. I got rid of her after she tried to pull some seduction crap on Dick."
At the far end of the table, Bruce sat up straighter and scowled. Jason winced. He had forgotten to mention that little titbit to Bruce.
"Sounds like she may have targeted you first," Lee mused. "When you didn't bite, she moved onto West. But it gives us something new for the police. Nice work, Todd."
He sounded pleased with Jason for resisting her. But truthfully, it hadn't been all that hard once she had come over all femme fatale on Dick. Jason scowled; that shit should not be pulled on an innocent thirteen-year-old.
"What about the men in custody?" Ryan Jackson asked. "Can't they tell you anything?"
"They've got their mouths puckered tighter than a Swiss vault," Lee answered sourly. "Called for their lawyers as soon as they reached Gotham PD. They won't say anything."
"But Commissioner Gordon has identified three of them as being known associates of Joe Minette," Bruce interjected. "The police will investigate that angle. What we need to do is to find out who leaked the information to them."
"Mr. Wayne is right," Thomas Lee added seriously. "And I think we can safely assume that the culprit isn't in this room; everyone here has proven their loyalty to Bruce and Wayne Enterprises – even Jason."
Jason was taken aback, both by the vote of confidence and that Lee was using his first name.
"I know that some of you don't trust Jason," Lee continued, "but Bruce trusts him and that should be enough. So we will be looking outside of this room for the person responsible for Friday night's tragedy."
"What do you want us to do?" asked Keith Daniels, still glancing suspiciously at Jason.
"Keep a close eye on the men under your command," Lee replied. "Talk to the few that you trust completely, and ask them if they noticed anything last Friday night…or even if they've noticed anything unusual since then. I myself will be investigating everyone who has joined the team in the last year. But until we find the leak, no information is to be shared with the rest of the staff unless absolutely necessary."
The men around the table all nodded their agreement.
"Good. Thank you for your time, Gentlemen, you can return to work now." Lee waved his hand to dismiss them.
While the rest of the room got to their feet and headed for the door, talking in low voices, Jason moved towards Bruce who was engaged in conversation with Thomas Lee and Lucius Fox. He wanted to talk to the billionaire about Dick.
Jason had spent the previous day with Dick, decorating not only the Christmas tree but the rest of Wayne Manor as well. When they had finished, they had sat down to watch Christmas movies with some of Alfred's shortbread cookies and hot chocolate, falling asleep in front of the fire. Jason had enjoyed the cheesy normality of it and, after such a festive afternoon, had surprised himself by deciding against the grind of patrol for one night. But it also meant that he had missed speaking with Bruce – who had gone on patrol as Batman while he was asleep on the couch, and returned long after Jason went home.
"Bruce, can we talk?" he demanded, interrupting the three men who were deep in conversation.
Bruce raised an eyebrow but nodded, while Lucius grinned at the blunt interruption. Jason knew the older man liked him and didn't object to his direct manner.
Thomas Lee however was frowning. "Todd! Is that any way to address your superiors?"
Jason shot him a dark look. No one was his damn superior!
"Its fine, Thomas," Bruce interjected mildly, giving Jason a warning look. "We'll continue this discussion later. Jason let's go to my office." Nodding at the two men, they left the boardroom.
"You do know the security leak is probably Justin Lee," Jason told Bruce as they walked down the corridor to his office. "He's only been here three weeks, and he's a gambling addict."
"Former," Bruce corrected.
"Once an addict, always an addict."
Bruce frowned. "That's very narrow thinking from you, Jason. Everyone deserves a second chance…Any messages, Maggie?" he asked, stopping at his secretary's desk.
"No, Sir." She shook her head, then smiled at Jason who nodded back. He was well-aware that the woman had a crush on him.
"But as it happens, I agree with you," Bruce continued, after he and Jason entered the privacy of his office. "There's no doubt in my mind that Justin is involved in this. He owes Minette money."
"How do you know that?"
"I looked into his history after Thomas asked me to hire him on a trial basis."
"Then why hire him when you knew that?!" Jason demanded, watching Bruce sit into the chair behind his desk.
"You know why, because Thomas begged me to give him a chance. He really believes his son is trying to turn his life around."
"His son is an idiot. Why can't he see that?"
Bruce gave a small smile. "Because he's his son."
Something in that statement caused a small twang of pain in Jason's chest, although he didn't quite understand why. "Whatever. Bruce, if you know he's responsible for Friday then why is Justin still here? And why are you letting Lee carry out his investigation? It's a waste of time."
"Not to him it isn't. I think that deep down Thomas suspects Justin is the culprit, but he's not yet ready to give up the hope that his son is trying to change."
"And what if Justin does a runner?"
"He won't, not yet. As long as he thinks no one suspects him, he'll stay. I imagine Justin is rather desperate to find a way to pay Minette back, and working for Wayne Enterprises might present a good opportunity to achieve that in his reasoning. But enough about Lee, I'm guessing you wanted to talk about Dick?"
Jason nodded, sinking into the chair opposite Bruce's desk. "Why haven't the League found a way to get rid of those scars yet? Are they even trying?"
"Of course they're trying! But its not that easy to fade such massive scars without changing the molecular structure of skin – which brings its own risks." Bruce looked tired. "I want those scars gone as much as you do, Jason. I know they bother Dick and that's reason enough to want them gone, but they're also a dangerous link between Dick Grayson and Robin; they make him immediately identifiable."
Jason's eyes widened at that implication. "But Brick saw the Joker scar and he's a total loudmouth…he'll be blabbing to every two-bit crook he meets!"
"Exactly." Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "It isn't such a risk now while Dick can wear long sleeves, but what happens once we hit summer? People will start to wonder if he's constantly covered up in seventy degree heat."
"Bloody Joker!" Jason snarled, covering his eyes with a hand and momentarily wishing he had killed the clown when he had the chance. "Does Dick know this?"
"He hasn't said anything but I have a feeling the thought has crossed his mind."
"Well, fuck!" Jason didn't care that Bruce hated his penchant for swearing. At least he didn't swear around Dick. Besides, this discovery merited it. He dropped his hand. "Are the League anywhere close to finding a solution?"
Bruce shook his head. "If it were such a simple remedy, we would have come up with it a long time ago to hide our own scars."
Jason exhaled in frustration. Bruce had a point; the scars they received in this line of work could give them away and removing them would only prove to be an advantage in maintaining their anonymity. But right now, no one in the entire Justice League had anything close to resembling the marks that Dick carried, putting him most at risk of being found out.
"Jason, I want to thank you for yesterday" the older man told him suddenly. "Whatever you said or did, Dick was much happier this morning."
Jason snapped his fingers. "About that. Bruce, I figured out why he makes such a big deal about the Christmas tree."
"Oh?"
"From what he said, Christmas was a pretty big deal between him and his folks, very family-oriented, and Dick is trying to get you involved in the same way. Bruce, I think if you took more of an interest in Christmas, he wouldn't feel he has to try so hard to make everything perfect."
The older man looked a little taken aback by that revelation. "I guess ever since my parents died I haven't felt the spirit of Christmas enough to celebrate it."
"And I'm betting Dick hasn't either, but he's still trying," Jason pointed out. "Bruce, you're the parent now and it's your job to make Christmas special for your son. He shouldn't be the one trying to make things special for you."
From somewhere in the bones of his soul, Jason felt an old, familiar ache creep in and tried to ignore it. He was beyond that little boy lost crap now.
Bruce remained silent, looking thoughtful.
"And while I think about it," Jason added. "Dick gets his Christmas vacation today. If it's okay with you, I'm going to collect him after school. I told him I'd take him ice-skating."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Ice-skating? You?"
Jason crossed his arms defensively. "Dick talked me into it, alright? I figured he needed cheering up so I said yes."
Bruce gave a knowing smile that infuriated Jason. "If you say so. Will you be going to Inside Scoop?"
"We'll do that first." Jason grimaced. "It's December, it's freaking freezing and he wants to go for ice-cream! I swear I'll never understand Dick's yen for the stuff."
Bruce chuckled just as the intercom on his desk buzzed. He pressed it. "Yes, Maggie?"
"I have Mr. Takahashi on the phone for you, Mr. Wayne," his secretary's clear voice sounded.
"Give me a moment, then patch him through," the billionaire responded. He glanced at the younger man. "Jason, I have to take this."
Jason shrugged, getting to his feet. "No problem. So it's okay for me to collect Dick this afternoon?"
Bruce nodded. "I'll let Alfred know." The phone on his desk rang and he picked it up. "Kon'nichiwa, Takahashi-san," Bruce greeted the man on the other end in flawless Japanese whilst bowing his head in farewell to Jason. The younger man gave a casual wave in return as he left the room.
oOo
Jason knocked on the door of Thomas Lee's office later that afternoon and waited for the barked "Yes?" before pushing it open.
"I'm off, Mr. Lee," he announced, sticking his head around the door. He was surprised to find Justin sitting across from his father with a dark expression on his face.
Lee looked up and frowned. "Off?"
"I'm collecting Dick from school."
The man's expression cleared. "Ah yes. School lets out for Christmas vacation, doesn't it?"
Jason nodded.
"Taking him celebrating are we?" The older man smiled indulgently and Jason resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What the hell was Dick's secret to wrapping everyone around his little finger?!
"We've made plans to do a few things," Jason conceded. He wasn't revealing a damn thing in front of Justin.
"Good, good," said Lee absently. "Tell him I said Merry Christmas."
Knowing he was being dismissed, Jason left. He shook his head as he walked down the corridor; the tension in that room had been thick with anger and resentment. For a father and son, those two had a very uncomfortable relationship.
Unbidden, his thoughts went to his own Bruce and Jason wondered how he was. Then he frowned, troubled by how easily the man seemed to slip into his thoughts these days. Dick's Christmas sentimentality must be getting to me.
Brushing aside the thoughts of his old mentor as he entered the parking lot, Jason headed for his car and climbed in. Turning on the engine, he fumbled with the heater and squinted up at the sky. Still friggin' cold and still no sign of snow. There was no way in hell Dick was getting an ice-cream into him today.
Traffic was free-flowing when Jason pulled out of the parking lot, and it took just twenty minutes to arrive at Gotham City Academy. Parking in the nearest available spot, he turned off the engine and studied the sky once more. Was it his imagination or did it look a little greyer than when he had left Wayne Enterprises? Maybe snow was finally on the way. Briefly he wondered if it were raining or snowing in the other Gotham.
Probably raining, he decided. It's always raining there.
It bothered Jason when he realized that home and his old mentor had once more slipped into his thoughts. He wasn't sure why Bruce kept popping into his head like this; he wasn't homesick, or even missing his mentor. Jason was the most content he could ever remember being and given the choice again, he would still chose to remain in this Gotham.
Just then, the school bell rang shrilly, interrupting his thoughts, and the doors immediately burst open as students poured forth from the building, laughing and chattering excitedly. After several minutes, Jason could just make out Barbara's red hair in the throng, which meant Dick was somewhere close by. Narrowing his eyes as she came closer, he spotted Dick's shorter frame beside her and grinned. He hoped for Dick's sake that the kid would have a growth spurt soon.
Jason watched as Dick and Barbara parted ways, Dick waving and calling Merry Christmas to Barbara's mother who was parked nearby, before hurrying over to where Jason was parked. "Hey, Jason," Dick greeted him cheerfully as soon as he opened the back door of the car and slung his school bag in the back seat. He slammed the door shut and moved to the front door, opening it and hopping in. He was pink-cheeked with excitement. "Did Bruce say it was okay to go ice-skating?"
Jason nodded, rolling his eyes as Dick practically bounced in his seat. "Dick, are you sure about the ice-cream? It's cold out there." Looking at the hyper teenager beside him, Jason couldn't help but think that the last thing Dick needed was sugar.
"It's Christmas vacation, we have to celebrate! Besides, Inside Scoop is our tradition now." Dick smiled at him, pulling the seat-belt across his chest and fastening it.
Jason couldn't help but smile too. "Inside Scoop it is. But I'm just having coffee and pie; it's too damn cold for ice-cream."
"Wuss!" Dick teased.
"Nice try, Kid, but I'm too old for that to work," Jason told him, ruffling his hair before starting up the car. "Besides, aren't you cold?"
"A bit, but I can always have a hot chocolate after."
Jason snorted. "Sugar overload much?"
"Hey, it's Christmas, the season of over-indulgence!"
"Followed by the season for shares in antacids," Jason muttered, guiding the car into traffic once more.
Dick grinned. "Only for old guys like you, Jay, youth doesn't need antacids."
"Kid, you're lucky I'm driving now. Give me the chance and I'll show you old!"
"Bring it on, Old Man!"
"Is that a challenge?"
"No, it's an invitation to crochet!" Dick rolled his eyes. "Yes, it's a challenge!"
Jason smiled at the cocky teenager. "What are the stakes?"
"Hand-to-hand sparring match, no weapons. The loser has to go to Mount Justice wearing an elf costume and sing Christmas carols for the entire Justice League!"
Jason grimaced. That sounded like hell. But if he backed down, Dick would never let him hear the end of it. "Deal."
They grinned quickly at one another before Jason returned his attention to the road.
"So, did you guys find out anything more about what happened on Friday night?" Dick wanted to know.
Jason nodded and filled him in on what had transpired in the meeting that morning. He finished recounting the tale just as they pulled into the parking lot near Inside Scoop.
"Do you really think Justin is behind what happened?" Dick asked as Jason shut off the engine.
"No question about it, there isn't anyone else it could have been."
Dick shook his head. "I feel bad for Mr. Lee. This is going to be hard on him."
Jason nodded his agreement as they climbed out of the warm car, wincing when the cold air hit their faces.
"Does the sky look grey to you?" Jason asked Dick, squinting upwards as they started towards the ice-cream parlour, walking briskly down the pavement to escape the cold. "I think it might snow tonight."
"Maybe," Dick replied and Jason could hear laughter in his voice.
"What?" he demanded, glancing down at the boy.
Dick's eyes were alight with mischief. "Is that why you keep staring at the sky? You've been doing it for days now."
Jason crossed his arms defensively when he realized he'd been caught. "Yeah, so?"
Dick cackled gleefully before bursting into song. "Jason has been dreaming of a white Christmas!" he warbled.
"Shut it, Brat!" said Jason sheepishly, putting Dick in a headlock and rubbing his head with his knuckles.
"Jay! Get off!"
Jason laughed at the muffled voice and squirming figure, releasing the boy as they reached the door of Inside Scoop. "Tell anyone I'm hoping for snow and you're a dead man!" He tried to glare at Dick, but it was ruined by the twitching at the corners of his mouth.
Dick grinned. "I dunno, Jay, between this and the Santa hat, it's kinda hard to take the tough-guy act seriously."
"You're a little troll, you know that?" Jason grumbled fondly, pushing open the door and entering the ice-cream parlour.
Dick followed after him, still grinning. "Like I keep telling you, trolling is an art form."
"Sure, Dick, whatever you say," Jason replied, taking in their surroundings as they approached the counter.
Unsurprisingly, Inside Scoop was quiet. Mrs. Tanner, the old lady who came there every afternoon, was in her usual corner with her usual tea and cake. The tiny Yorkshire terrier that normally accompanied her and snoozed in her handbag was awake for once, sitting on the seat beside her with its ears alert and its beady little eyes glued to the only other occupant there; a man sitting by the counter, nursing a cup of coffee.
"Looks like you're the only person crazy enough to want ice-cream in this weather," Jason told Dick as they reached the counter.
"Or the only one brave enough!" Dick challenged.
Jason chuckled. "Nice try but I'm still not going there…Hi," he added to Mr. Ferretti, the owner of Inside Scoop, as the man came through the swinging doors from the kitchen and started at the sight of Jason and Dick.
"You...are having ice-cream…today?" he asked, slightly flustered.
"I'm going to have coffee and apple-pie," Jason corrected him. "Only Dick is insane enough to eat frozen dairy produce in this cold. The usual?" he added, glancing down at the boy.
Dick nodded. "Please. Hi, Mr. Ferretti. Merry Christmas."
The man still looked startled. "Oh...Merry Christmas, Dick."
The normally cheerful Italian seemed a little on edge; Jason had never heard him call Dick by his name before – it was usually Piccolo or something equally affectionate.
Dick had obviously noticed something as well. He tilted his head and looked up at the man. "Are you okay, Mr. Ferretti?"
"Just fine, little one," he said in a hurried voice. "Please, sit down! I'll bring your order, eh?"
They nodded and retreated to a corner booth, shedding their jackets once seated.
"You think he's okay?" Dick asked, watching the man re-enter the kitchen.
"I'm sure he's fine." Jason shrugged. "Probably fighting with his wife again or something."
Dick grimaced. "Yeesh, I hope that means we don't have to witness another throwdown!"
Jason laughed. Mr. and Mrs. Ferretti were stereotypical Italians: passionate, argumentative and full of life. They often argued loudly in front of customers, only to forget about the dispute five minutes later and behave like love-struck newlyweds. Just a few weeks ago, Dick and Jason had witnessed a rather fearsome domestic that had involved Mrs. Ferretti leveraging a plate of pie into Mr. Ferretti's face.
"I doubt it," Jason replied, grinning at the thought. He found the couple highly amusing. "She's not even here."
Mr. Ferretti reappeared a minute later with a coffee for Jason and a soda for Dick. "Ice-cream and pie are coming," he mumbled, placing their drinks on the table. His hand shook slightly and he spilled some of the coffee into the saucer. "Sorry! Sorry! I get napkin!"
"It's fine," Jason reassured him. "It's just coffee. Don't worry about it, Mr. Ferretti."
The man retreated, blushing and mumbling apologies.
"Wow, it must have been a bad fight," Dick commented, reaching for his soda and taking a large gulp. "I've never seen him like that."
Jason nodded as he added sugar to his coffee and took a sip. The Italian's behaviour was a little strange; Jason was beginning to suspect that it was more than a fight with his wife that was bothering the man.
He leaned back in his seat and looked across the table at Dick, who was now drinking his soda through a straw, his brow furrowed.
"You look pretty serious, Kid," Jason commented. "Something on your mind?"
Dick shrugged. "Just thinking that I'd like to do some...stuff with my friends now that Christmas vacation is here."
Jason knew at once that he was talking about the young justice team. While Dick was healing, he had missed out on quite a few missions with his friends and although he hadn't said anything, Jason was aware of just how much that bothered him.
"Don't you want to spend Christmas relaxing?" Jason asked. He would never admit it to Dick, especially after promising to dial down the mother hen act when he was Robin, but he wasn't all that thrilled about him starting back with the junior Justice League. Unsupervised missions with a bunch of super-powered teenagers who were all much bigger than Robin? Jason hid a scowl. Let me count the ways that could go wrong.
"Trust me, Jay, I spent enough of the last few months relaxing," Dick grumbled. "I need some action."
"Nothing wrong with relaxing," Jason pointed out, sipping his coffee.
"Says the guy who's probably never taken a vacation in his life!"
Mr. Ferretti arrived back at the table with their desserts. "Bon appétit!" he told them, a little too vehemently.
"Thanks, Mr. Ferretti," said Dick, smiling up at him.
The man gave him an anxious little nod and scampered back to the kitchen once more.
Jason stared after him with a frown. The Italian's behaviour was beginning to make him a little uncomfortable. And why did that man at the counter keep checking them out?
When Mr. Ferretti had dropped their drinks over, Jason had noticed the man at the counter giving them quick surreptitious glances. He had thought nothing of it until the man continued to do it when he thought Jason wasn't watching. And after Mr. Ferretti had delivered their food, his eyes had followed the Italian the whole way back to the kitchen.
The hackles on the back of Jason's neck stood up and he felt something uncomfortable squirm in the pit of his stomach. Was this place about to get hit?
He turned back to voice his suspicions to Dick, only to find the boy staring at the table while his hands gripped the edge tightly.
"What's wrong?" Jason asked.
Dick looked up at him and blinked. Twice. "I don't know. I feel really funny all of a sudden...kind of dizzy."
Alarm bells blared in Jason's head and he dropped the cup of half-finished coffee back into the saucer with a loud crack. "We're leaving. Now!" He got to his feet and the world listed sideways.
Shit! he thought, grabbing at the table. Shit! Shit! Shit!
Clinging tightly to the table, Jason moved to the other side and grabbed Dick's arm. "Time to go, Dick."
"Wha?" Dick mumbled, looking up at Jason in confusion.
"Come on, Kiddo," Jason said urgently, tugging at his arm. "We need to get out of here!"
But Dick seemed to be sliding further down the leather seat, his eyes rolling back in his head.
Oh fuck, no! No! No! No! Jason thought frantically, hooking his arm across Dick's chest and pulling the boy towards him.
He almost dropped Dick when the room started to spin and had to throw a hand out to stop himself from collapsing on the boy. Half-crouched over Dick, Jason turned to see a terrified Mr. Ferretti staring at them with wide eyes from where he stood by the kitchen door.
"Wha…the fuck did you…give us?" Jason rasped, his voice slurred.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" the man cried. "I had no choice! They made me – please forgive me!"
Two men exited the kitchen behind him and shoved Mr. Ferretti out of the way. Jason's blood ran cold when they moved towards them. Out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out the man at the counter slipping off his high stool and going to the store entrance which he locked. He then proceeded to draw the shades on the window.
Jason staggered to his feet, trying to fight against the pitching of the room that was threatening to knock him off his feet, and planted himself in front of Dick. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear the little Yorkie starting to bark.
Blinking, he shook his head, desperately trying to clear his sea-sawing vision. As the first man came within range, Jason swung quickly and his fist connected with the man's jaw, sending him reeling. The second man stopped and hesitated, which Jason used as an opportunity to deliver a lethal kick to the man's leg, causing him to drop like a stone. Bunching his fists, Jason then turned to face the man from the counter who was now approaching, but the man remained at a safe distance.
"Get out of the way," he ordered.
Jason blinked several times, trying to focus. "No!" he snapped, his whole body poised in rigid offence. "You're not touching him!"
The man smirked. "Really? You think you have a choice in this? There were enough drugs in that coffee to make Fat Albert pass out! I don't care how tough you are, Todd, those drugs will have you on your ass in just a few more minutes...and then the kid is coming with us."
"Over my dead body!" Jason snarled.
"That can be arranged," the man told him coldly.
Without warning, the three men rushed him and Jason found himself fighting a desperate battle to keep them back.
If he had been at full strength, Jason could have taken these guys out with relatively little trouble. But whatever they had dosed him with was coursing through his veins, making him see double and turning his limbs to jelly. He was barely able to remain upright, much less fight off three attackers.
Suddenly, something hard smashed into the back of his skull, creating an explosion of pain and turning his world red. A second blow to the head took him to his knees, where he swayed for several seconds. Blearily, Jason looked up just in time to see one of the men lifting Dick's limp form out of the booth.
"Noooo!" he moaned and tried to get up.
A third hit cracked off his skull and stars exploded behind his eyes. It was the last thing Jason saw before he crumpled into darkness.