A/N: I gotta say, guys, the response to the last chapter absolutely staggered me. The response to this story has been overwhelming overall, but the last chapter...just, wow. Thank you. And it couldn't have come at a better time because I am quite literally in the middle of Hell Week and it feels like my sanity is going out the window, so thank you. I didn't get to respond to everyone personally, but I'm fairly certain I managed to answer everyone's questions. And if I didn't, I'm so sorry. It wasn't intentional. I'm just so stressed that I'm actually half-insane right now.
Two heads up for this chapter; some really coarse language and some violence. Enjoy.
oOo
Nate didn't really have too clear a picture of what happened after the kidnappers took off with Dick. He remembered Dana rushing to the phone and calling Dick's social worker, and he was pretty clear on Greg walking in and demanding to know why the front door was wide open, but after that it all got a little fuzzy. There was a vague memory of a hysterical Dana refusing to let Greg call the police in case those men killed Dick, and Nate knew he himself had freaked out when it hit him that the younger boy might actually be murdered by those men, but then everything dissolved into a blur of noise and images.
Nate had never considered himself the type of person who went into shock, which was why he struggled to understand how he suddenly came to be sitting in one of the chairs by the stove with a blanket around him, while Terry and Dana crouched in front of him. And… Nate blinked. The kitchen was suddenly a lot more crowded; where the hell had all these people come from?!
Two of the new arrivals, a woman with greying hair and a man that Nate recognized from the TV as the police commissioner, were arguing furiously.
"What do you mean you called Mr. Wayne?!" the woman cried. "I gave no authorisation for that to happen!"
"You can't be serious!" the commissioner snapped back. "His son's been kidnapped! Aside from the fact that he deserves to know what's going on, Mr. Wayne is the person these men are demanding the money from. He's on his way here right now because we need him to save Dick's life! Unless Gotham CPS has a spare fifty million they don't need?" he finished sarcastically, and the woman flushed.
Nate's brain struggled to process the sudden appearance of extra people. There was a police officer sitting at the table with AJ and Lyssa, while another officer stood in the corner talking to Greg. A third police officer was actually dusting the knob on the kitchen door for prints. Where had they all come from? And weren't they not supposed to be here?
"I thought we weren't supposed to call the police?" he said shakily to Dana and Terry.
"Oh, thank God!" cried Dana, grasping his hand. "Nate, sweetie, are you alright?"
Nate shivered. Shit, he felt cold. "I…what happened?"
"You zoned out," Terry answered, staring at him. "Like, full-on shutdown, man. You weren't moving or talking…it was like you couldn't even see us!"
Terry looked freaked and Nate blinked. Had he really checked out like that? "Who– who called the police?" he asked.
"Dick's social worker did, right after I called her," Dana replied. She was white-faced and shaking.
"But…what about Dick? They said not to call the police."
Dana shrugged helplessly, looking as though she might cry again.
Nate glanced to where the commissioner was still arguing with the grey-haired woman. "Is that Dick's social worker?"
Dana nodded.
"Why did she call the police?" demanded Nate, starting to get angry. "They said not to call the police!"
"It wasn't her fault, honey," said Dana. "It was m-mine. I forgot to tell her…She d-didn't know." Dana gulped and broke down, burying her face in her hands.
It hurt Nate to see the first person in his life who had shown him real kindness so upset. And, oh God! This was all his fault!
"COMMISSIONER!" a loud shout came from the hall just before a well-built, dark-haired man burst into the kitchen. "Jim," he addressed the police commissioner frantically, "how the hell did this happen?!"
Nate's jaw dropped and he heard Terry suck in a breath because holy shit! That was freaking Bruce Wayne himself standing there!
The police commissioner shook his head. "We don't know yet, Mr. Wayne."
"But how did they know Dick was here?" the billionaire moaned.
Nate swallowed. He saw this guy on TV all the time, and he always looked suave, kind of like James Bond or something. But right now, he just looked haggard and exhausted, as if he were barely hanging on by a thread.
"I can't answer that, Mr. Wayne," the commissioner replied. "Ms. Elliot here assures me that–"
"You!" the billionaire hissed, his eyes going to the grey-haired woman. "This is all your fault! You promised you would keep him safe!"
The woman stiffened. "Mr. Wayne, I assure you, my office had nothing to do with this–"
"Nothing to do with this?!" Bruce Wayne snarled at her. "CPS forcibly removed Dick from his home, where he was safe and cared for! Since you've had him, he's been harassed and assaulted by the media, left all alone in the hospital with a serious head injury, and now this! Kidnapped from the house where he was supposed to be safe! YOU are to blame for this!"
Whoa. Nate gulped as the social worker took a step back from the billionaire. The man was radiating rage the likes of which Nate hadn't seen before. The media portrayed Bruce Wayne as some kind of playboy idiot, but that man standing there was anything but. Nate's past meant he had a finely tuned instinct for spotting threats, and Bruce Wayne…Bruce Wayne was dangerous.
"Easy, Mr. Wayne," said the police commissioner, looking somewhat unsettled as he came between the billionaire and the social worker. "Ms. Elliot didn't intend for any of this to happen."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" the man snapped. "Jim, you know what happened to Dick last January; his kidnappers nearly killed him! And that was when he was at full health! Christ, what's going to happen to him when he's vulnerable…"
Nate squirmed as the billionaire ran a hand through his hair, anguish and fear written all over his face. Fuck, this guy really cared about Dick!
"Mr. Wayne," the commissioner began soothingly, "I promise, we will do everything we can to find Dick. I have officers out right now canvassing the neighbourhood to see if anyone saw anything and–"
"No!" Dana cried suddenly, scrambling to her feet. "Commissioner, you can't get involved! They said no police!"
"Don't worry, Mrs. Foster, kidnappers always say–"
"Wait! They said no police?" Bruce Wayne interrupted, stricken. "Then who called you?"
"I did," Ms. Elliot admitted after a moment's silence.
The billionaire's eyes popped in fury. "YOU?! Why would–"
"It's not her fault!" Dana interjected quickly, coming towards them. "I never told her what those men said when I called to tell her about Dick. I was…I just forgot and I…I…" She started to cry again, and Greg moved to put his arms around her.
"I'm s-so s-sorry, Mr. Wayne!" Dana sobbed. "T-this is my f-fault…it h-happened in my care! I s-should have done s-something and…and…" She choked and wiped her eyes.
The billionaire looked taken aback. "Mrs…Foster? It's alright. I don't blame you."
Dana's lips were quivering. "But I was…I was right there! I just let them t-take him…"
More tears started to spill down her face and her distress tore at something inside of Nate. He couldn't bear to see her in pain, and he could only imagine the hurt he would cause if she knew he was responsible for all this. Maybe he should stay quiet…
Bruce Wayne swallowed and shook his head. "They were armed. You couldn't have stopped them."
"I f-feel responsible," Dana sniffed. "Dick…he's such a good boy, Mr. Wayne…"
"I know he is," the billionaire replied miserably.
Nate looked away. It was disconcerting to see this guy from TV as an actual person, to see him hurting like everybody else.
"Commissioner?" a new voice interjected, and Nate glanced back to see a fourth police officer, a woman, standing in the doorway.
"Montoya," said the commissioner at once. "Do you have something?"
"Maybe. One of the neighbours was out walking her dog and she saw a white van parked outside this house around the time the kid was abducted."
"Did she get a license plate?" asked the commissioner sharply.
The officer shook her head. "It was too dark. The only reason she remembers the van is because her dog peed on it."
"A white van?" Greg spoke up, frowning. "A white van cut me off about a mile from here when I was driving home! I didn't think anything of it at the time, but it did come from this general direction…"
The commissioner focused on him. "How soon did you get back here after those men left?"
"About five minutes," Greg replied.
"That fits the time frame. Alright, Mr. Foster, I want you to explain to Officer Montoya here exactly where you saw that van, and any details you can remember about the van itself. Montoya, when he's done, I want you to take a few officers and start checking the traffic cams in the area where Mr. Foster saw that van."
"Yes, sir. Mr. Foster, would you come with me, please?"
As the officer guided Greg out of the room, the police commissioner turned back to the other adults and addressed them seriously. "Without assigning any blame, we need to find out how those men knew that Dick was here. Ms. Elliot, how certain are you that you and your supervisor were the only CPS workers who knew where Dick was?"
"One hundred percent certain," she answered firmly. "Richard's case is unusual, and after what happened outside the hospital, we both felt that the fewer people who knew his location the safer he would be. I didn't even keep a record of Richard's placement in his file or in the system."
"And do you trust your supervisor?" the commissioner wanted to know.
The woman looked insulted. "Absolutely! I've been working with Mr. Nichols for almost twenty years and his character is beyond reproach, I can assure you of that."
"Be that as it may, we're still going to have to investigate everyone who knew Dick's location," the commissioner explained carefully. "Those men knew he was here and we need to find out how."
The social worker turned to Dana who, although still shaking, had stopped crying. "Dana, I know you and Greg would never say anything, but what about the children?"
Nate was aware of Terry, AJ and Lyssa stiffening immediately at the accusation, but Dana spoke before any of them could object. "They had nothing to do with this. I talked with them the evening Dick arrived and they all promised not to say anything. They're good kids and I trust them."
Dana's trust weighed heavily on Nate. No one had ever trusted him before. For as long as he could remember, people had always assumed the worst of him. Even in the other foster homes and detention centres, people had thought him a liar and a bad-tempered thug. Dana and Greg were the first people to really give him a chance, to give him a home.
He looked at Bruce Wayne and gulped; the billionaire's face was marred with misery and stress. This man was going through hell because of him. His son had been kidnapped because of him.
And then there was Dick.
The younger boy was being held prisoner by a bunch of armed men because Nate had done what people had been doing to him his whole life; he'd judged Dick without knowing a single thing about him. Nate had written him off as a spoiled rich kid who had everything easy and treated people like crap. And he'd never been more wrong about anyone in his life. Dick was a nice kid who'd made himself sick helping Nate, even after Nate had been such a jerk to him. Nor had he hesitated to throw himself in front of Dana when that man had threatened to shoot her. In fact, Dick had turned himself over to those men so they wouldn't hurt anyone…even after what had happened to him last January!
Nate shuddered. What if these guys did something like that to him now? Because the rich guy was right; Dick was vulnerable. Nate had been surprised by how something as simple as just tutoring him had exhausted Dick. And those guys hadn't exactly been gentle… Nate's eyes went to where the men had thrown Dick's sling on the floor. It was gone – the police must have taken it away – but Nate still remembered how the kidnappers had just flung it there, how they'd pulled Dick's broken arm to tie him up. They didn't care that they were hurting him.
Nate looked over at where the adults were still arguing about how the men could have known Dick was here, and bit his lip. An innocent kid might get hurt – maybe killed – and it was all his fault. Nate couldn't not say something…
Shakily, he got to his feet, the blanket around his shoulders dropping to the floor. "Dana?" he called, wincing when he realized how scared he sounded.
The adults stopped arguing and looked over at him. "What is it, honey?" asked Dana.
"I– I think…" He swallowed hard. "I think I know how those men knew Dick was here."
Dana's eyes widened and Nate looked at the floor. He didn't want to see the disappointment on her face. "I…I told some of the guys at school yesterday that Dick was staying with us."
"Nate…" Dana whispered. "Why?"
Shame washed over him and Nate felt a lump in his throat. He couldn't look up. "I was angry at Dick after our fight. And then Mrs. Summers said I couldn't play on the team unless I passed the stupid test and– and… I was just venting to the guys and it sort of slipped out." He finally looked up at Dana and whispered, "I'm sorry."
"You risked Dick's life because of a fight?" Bruce Wayne interjected furiously before Dana could respond.
Nate cowered beneath the man's glare. "I didn't…I didn't know this would happen. I was angry and stupid and a jerk. I'm really sorry, Mr. Wayne."
"Christ!" the billionaire groaned. Then his anger shifted from Nate to Ms. Elliot. "I told you, I told you this would happen!"
"We're not playing the blame game," the commissioner intervened as the woman opened her mouth to argue. "It doesn't help Dick." He turned to Nate and addressed him sternly. "As for you, you're going to sit down with me right now and give me the names of every single student you told about Dick, and their friend's names as well."
Nate nodded miserably.
The commissioner pointed to the table. "Sit."
Nate complied, wincing when he saw how Terry and the others were staring at him. None of them would want him now. He was going to be moved to another foster home after this and he'd actually been happy here for the first time in his life.
The angry-looking police commissioner sat across the table from him, while Dana sat beside him and took his hand. Nate glanced at her, surprised.
"I know you feel bad, honey," she said quietly. "And for what it's worth, I'm proud of you for having the courage to tell the truth."
"Really?" Nate whispered, his eyes burning suspiciously.
She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Really."
"Alright, son," said the police commissioner in a hard voice, "I want those names."
oOo
Nausea rocked Dick as he was dragged back to consciousness. He could feel bile churning in his gut before it surged upwards. He was going to…
"Urgg!" he choked, rolling his head sideways to spew across whatever he was lying on. He couldn't get up.
"What the fuck!" a loud voice yelled.
"Keep it down!" a second voice hissed.
Dick stopped retching, then tried to squirm away from the smell. He felt so weak…
Someone pulled him upright and shook him hard, sending shockwaves of pain down his broken arm. "What is wrong with you, you little fucker! Why won't you stay out?!"
A rag was held over his face and the pungent smell of chloroform made his stomach turn. Dick gagged and the hands immediately dropped him. He bounced against something soft before heaving sideways again.
"Urggh! That is fucking disgusting!" the loud voice complained. "I'm not cleaning it up."
"Will you shut up?!" the second voice hissed again.
Dick finished getting sick, then lay there, gasping. His head was thumping and it felt like his brain was spinning in his skull. He was wearing a blindfold. Why was he wearing a blindfold? What was going on?
Images filtered slowly back to him. Kidnapped. He'd been kidnapped.
Somewhere on the periphery of his memory, Dick could recall being suffocated with a sweet smelling cloth, over and over. Then he realized that the men had been dosing him with chloroform every time he woke up. This was the first time they'd allowed him to become coherent – probably because they'd had no choice once he started getting sick.
The rag was shoved in his face again. Dick rolled his head into the something soft he was lying on – a bed? – and managed to gasp out, "Stop! You're gonna…kill me!"
There was silence for a moment and the rag was withdrawn.
"What are you talking about?" the second voice demanded, as Dick's head reeled.
"C'mon man, the kid's talkin' shit. Just ignore him and put him out again," a third, nasally voice argued.
"Shut. Up." the second voice ground out, and Dick recognized it as belonging to the man who'd been doing all the talking at the foster home. "Alright, brat. You have one minute to explain."
Dick swallowed, trying to ignore the pain lighting up his head and shivering down his arm. "Chloroform…can kill people. That's why it's not used as an anaesthetic anymore. And it won't keep someone unconscious for long. That's why I keep waking up."
The man grabbed his hair. "Do you think we're stupid enough to believe that?"
Dick shook his still-swimming head and regretted it immediately when nausea threatened to erupt again. "I'm not lying. Me throwing up…that's a symptom of chloroform poisoning."
Silence fell again and the man let go of Dick's hair. He closed his eyes and rolled his head to the side, breathing deeply to try and ease the pain. God, he felt so ill…
"What the fuck do we do now?" the loud voice broke the silence. "We can't leave him conscious. What if he hears something that can ID us? What if he tries to escape?"
"Man, look at him," argued the man with the nasally voice, and Dick thought he sounded a little nervous. "He's not goin' anywhere."
"And what about ID'ing us?" Loud Voice retorted. "You wanna take that chance? Anyway, the little fucker's probably lying 'bout the chloroform. Just knock him out!"
"Shut up and lemme think!" the guy who seemed to be in charge growled.
Dick tried to gather his thoughts. There were three of them here. Where were the other two? There'd been four at the house, plus he'd heard a driver in the van before he'd passed out. And where was here? Somebody's house? Because he was definitely lying on a bed.
The smell of vomit wafted towards him and Dick grimaced, trying to wriggle away from where he'd been sick.
"I don't think so!" snapped the boss, and seized Dick's arms, pulling him upright and making him writhe with pain as the nerves of his injured arm twanged excruciatingly. "You think you can make a break for it?" he demanded.
Dick shook his head. "It's the smell…"
"Yeah, well, maybe if you hadn't puked in the first place it wouldn't be a problem!" Loud Voice sneered. "We should rub your face in it just to teach you a lesson–"
"Quiet!" Boss Man snapped at him. "You're too loud, you know that? Shut it before anyone hears you."
Dick stiffened. Before anyone hears him? They were somewhere people could hear them? He needed to make use of that while he still had the chance. He jerked out of the man's grip and brought his legs up to kick him hard. Dick heard a muttered "Omph!" as he threw himself off the bed, stumbling dizzily when his feet hit the floor while yelling at the top of his voice.
"HELP! HELP ME! SOMEONE HE– mmmph!"
He was silenced by a hand slapping over his mouth as someone grabbed him from behind and lifted him off of his feet. Dick struggled and kicked as best he could while the world tilted crazily around him. Pain was splitting his skull in two and his legs kept crashing into things as he kicked. If he could just make enough noise for someone to hear him… Biting down hard on the hand clamped across his mouth, Dick yanked his aching head free while the man holding him screeched in pain.
"Argggh! Little shit–"
"HELP!" Dick shouted again. "CALL THE POLICE!"
"Shut him up! Shut him up!" Boss Man cried, while Dick continued to thrash.
"HELP! HE– mmmmmmph!"
The hand was clamped across his mouth again. Another set of hands grabbed him and Dick was forced to the floor. He hoped that had been enough for someone to hear him, for someone to call the police. Because he would be dead before the ransom call if those men kept dosing him with chloroform.
"Jesus Christ!" Loud Voice panted in Dick's ear. "Fuck! What if someone heard him?!"
"Turn on the TV!" Boss Man ordered. "Find a cop show or something. If someone comes knocking, you two take the kid into the bathroom and keep him quiet. I'll deal with it. And you!" A hand seized Dick's hair and yanked his head savagely. "Try a stunt like that again and I'll break your other arm! Understand?"
Agony ricocheting through his head and arm, Dick nodded. He could hardly breathe beneath Loud Voice's weight.
The sound of a TV blaring to life made him jump before the volume was lowered.
"Shit, man, what do we do?" Loud Voice demanded urgently over the noise of the TV. "We can't leave him conscious, what if he pulls that shit again?"
"Will you shut up and lemme think!" Boss Man snapped. "And you, clean up the mess he made before anyone comes knocking."
"What? But there's puke everywhere!" Nasal Voice complained.
"You don't have to touch it, you idiot. Just strip the sheets and throw them in the tub. And pick up that crap the kid knocked over! We don't want anyone wondering what happened in here."
Dick heard Nasal Voice muttering. From the sound of the man moving about the room, Dick could tell that it wasn't very large. Based on that and the fact that people could hear them, Dick guessed this was a motel or something similar. It was a weird place to stash him and made him wonder how new these men were to this. They didn't exactly seem in control of the situation…
"We should use the chloroform again," Loud Voice said. "I think the brat's lying about it killing people."
"No," Boss Man replied, much to Dick's relief. "You saw the way he was puking – we can't take the chance that he was telling the truth."
"Then how do we keep him quiet?" Loud Voice demanded, his hand tightening painfully around Dick's mouth. Dick wished he would get off of him; the man's weight was pressing his broken arm into the floor and it hurt.
"Easy. We gag him."
"With what?" Loud Voice demanded. "We only brought the chloroform! C'mon, man, let's just knock him out again."
"We're not knocking him out! We need him alive, jackass."
"Then how do we keep him quiet?"
"I've got my work crap with me, just let me check it, alright?!" Boss Man snapped irritably.
With a jolt, Dick realized that they were nervous. His suspicions were correct, they hadn't done this before. These men hadn't a clue what they were doing!
He didn't know whether that discovery made him feel better or worse.
The sound of rummaging rattled just above Dick's head, followed by a triumphant snort. "Got something."
"Is that a sock?" Loud Voice demanded. "What the hell is that gonna do?"
"You'll see," the leader replied. "Move your hand."
The hand around Dick's mouth disappeared and something woollen was shoved into it.
"Ngggh!" he protested, trying to pull away, but Loud Voice pressed down on him to keep him still while the other man finished stuffing the sock in his mouth.
Dick tried to spit it back out, but someone clamped a hand over his mouth. "Sorry, kid," Boss Man told him, "but we can't have you making any more noise."
There was a light clinking, followed by a snort of laughter from Loud Voice. "A belt? Are you for real?"
"Shut up!" Boss Man snapped, as stiff leather was wound around Dick's mouth and head to keep the sock in place. He gagged a little as he was forced to tongue the sock to keep it away from the back of his throat, and shook his head desperately. "Pmmmmmm!"
"Now, now," said Loud Voice, forcing Dick's head to be still so the other man could finish what he was doing. "It's this or the chloroform."
The chink of a buckle sounded by Dick's ear, followed by the satisfied voice of Boss Man. "There. That'll keep him quiet."
Just then, a knock sounded. "Management! Open up! I've had a complaint about this room," a grumpy-sounding male voice yelled.
"Quick!" Boss Man hissed, and before Dick knew what was happening, Loud Voice's hand was back over his gagged mouth and he was being hauled to his feet.
"Coming!" Boss Man called, as a second set of hands grabbed Dick's legs.
Dick struggled wildly as the other two men carried him into what was presumably the bathroom. His legs were released and Dick heard a door close, followed by a lock clicking into place. Still struggling, he was forced facedown onto a cold, tiled floor where Loud Voice lay on top of him again, pushing all of his weight down on Dick and literally crushing him against the bathroom floor.
Barely able to breathe, Dick whimpered. He couldn't help it; every nerve in his arm and shoulder were screaming out in pain from the awkward angle the pressure was forcing them into.
"…someone was yelling for help," came a grumpy male voice on the other side of the door.
"It was the TV," the muffled voice of Boss Man explained. "I'm sorry we disturbed people, we'll keep it down."
"You'd better– hey! Where's the covers from that bed?!"
"I'm afraid my buddy ate a bad burrito or something on the road – he had a bit of an accident. We put the covers and stuff soaking in the tub to wash it off, but we'll pay if it doesn't come out."
Practically suffocating beneath Loud Voice's weight, Dick tried to scream through the make-shift gag and Loud Voice's hand. Help was right outside that door if only the man could hear him!
But his muffled cries were silenced by Loud Voice seizing his throat with his other hand and pressing hard against it. Immediately, Dick gagged and choked, unable to make a sound. Pinned beneath Loud Voice, he couldn't move so he scrabbled his sneakers against the floor instead, making them squeak on the tiles.
Help me, please help me! Dick thought frantically. He was beginning to fear that the inexperience of these men would end up killing him.
"Legs!" he heard Loud Voice hiss, and a pair of hands grabbed Dick's ankles and held them down.
"What's that noise?" demanded the grumpy manager.
"Just my partner," Boss Man lied smoothly. "Like I said, he ate something that didn't agree with him. Actually, he's been in there a while." A fist pounded on the door. "Hey, Jack! You okay, man?"
It sounded so believable.
Dick could feel Loud Voice's heartbeat hammering against his back as he retorted, "Still on the can, man. I could be a while."
Dick tried desperately to yell because help was right there, but the hands around his throat and mouth tightened brutally, cutting off his already limited breathing. He tried to suck in air through his nostrils, but the weight crushing him meant his lungs couldn't expand. Dick felt himself slowly start to suffocate.
"Sorry," Boss Man called through the door. "The manager is here. Someone complained about the noise."
"I told you to turn down the TV," Loud Voice countered, keeping up the charade.
Boss Man said something in response, but Dick couldn't hear what. Darkness was starting to bleed into his consciousness while blood rushed in his ears. Pain was pounding in his head. His lungs tried to heave, struggling desperately for air, but only succeeded in shuddering painfully beneath the weight crushing them.
The world was just starting to feel very far away when Dick could inexplicably breathe again. The weight was gone, and so were the hands from around his mouth and neck. Then someone pulled him up and propped him against something. Dick coughed and choked on the sock, while inhaling frantically through his nose. Air!
"You dumb fuck!" Boss Man was saying in a low voice. "You could have killed him!"
"Well, what else could I do?" Loud Voice argued back. "The little fucker was trying to yell. That guy would've heard him!"
"Keep. It. Down!" Boss man hissed. "We don't need that guy snooping again."
Despair hit Dick when he realized his chance at help was gone.
"So what're we gonna do?" Loud Voice demanded, but in a quieter tone. "You saw what happened – even with a gag the little prick could make noise. We need to keep him quiet until tomorrow."
"I know!" Boss Man snapped edgily. "Look, I might have an idea. Let's get the kid back in the bedroom."
Dick was once more hauled to his feet. The continuous mistreatment of his bad arm had made it as painful as the day he'd injured it and he jerked reflexively out of their grip.
"Pmmmmm," he begged through the gag, jerking his chin towards his cast to indicate they were hurting him. If they weren't hardened criminals then maybe there was some semblance of humanity he could reason with?
That hope died when rough hands grabbed him and shook him. "I've had just about enough of your crap!" Boss Man snarled at him. "Now, behave!"
Dick was half-carried, half-dragged back into the bedroom where he was flung roughly onto the bed. Heart pounding, he tried to curl into himself, then writhed with pain and discomfort. He was shaking a little and felt so ill. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.
"What are we gonna do?" Loud Voice asked, still keeping his voice low. "That manager will get suspicious if he's brought up here a second time and we don't need him identifying us after this all goes down. I say we take our chances with the chloroform."
"And if it kills him, then we don't get our money," Boss Man reminded him. "We need the kid alive."
"Then how do we make sure the little fucker doesn't try causing trouble again the first chance he gets?"
"We're gonna keep him out another way. Hey, you got any of that crap you use on you?"
It was Nasal Voice who responded. "Thought that wasn't your scene?"
"Not for me, dumbass! For the kid. A few shots should keep him out of it till tomorrow."
Dick froze, listening hard.
"I dunno, man." Nasal Voice sounded nervous. "He's just a kid…"
"We won't give him much," Boss Man assured him. "Just enough to keep him controllable."
"Controllable? Man, look at him. He doesn't need it. Besides, you said we need to keep him in one piece. I mean, look at what that other shit did to him."
"You heard the kid – that other stuff kills. You use this shit and you're fine, aren't you?"
"I guess…" Nasal Voice sounded reluctant. "Alright. Here. It's just enough for one hit, but I can get more."
"Let's see if this works first," Boss Man replied.
The sound of footsteps coming closer made Dick's heart beat faster in panic. Drugs! They were going to give him drugs! "Nnnnnnnnnn!" he cried, wriggling away from the hands that grabbed him.
"Can it, kid!" Boss Man ordered. "You brought this on yourself."
"Nggggghhh!" Dick twisted, kicked and bucked, making his arm spasm excruciatingly.
"Oh, for chrissake!" snapped Boss Man. "Here, you do it and I'll hold him."
"What?!" Nasal Voice sounded panicked. "But I don't–"
"Just do it!"
A large body pinned Dick down. Strong hands grabbed his good arm and pulled back the sleeve of his sweatshirt, then held his arm in place.
"Nnnnnn!" Dick tried desperately to wiggle away.
"Hold…hold him steady," Nasal Voice squeaked nervously.
The other man responded by pressing all of his weight down on Dick, the dead weight once again making it hard to breathe. "Pmmmph!" Dick pleaded uselessly, nostrils flaring as he once more struggled to suck in air.
The men ignored him and Dick's heart hammered in fear as he felt a needle pierce the crook of his elbow. Something cold sliced into his veins and Dick wanted to scream with frustration and despair. This wasn't fair! This wasn't fair! Hadn't he been through enough over the last few weeks?!
"T-there," Nasal Voice stuttered as the needle was withdrawn. "That shouldn't take long."
"Good." Boss Man climbed off of Dick, who immediately sucked in a breath.
Wondering what they had given him, Dick tried not to panic. Instead, he closed his eyes and waited for the drugs to kick in.
He didn't have to wait long. Within seconds he was light-headed, while a warm feeling spread through him. His skin started to tingle and the pain began to ease, but he could feel his chest constrict and squirmed, anxiety ratcheting several notches higher.
"Is he high yet?" asked Loud Voice.
"I dunno, man," Nasal Voice replied, now sounding scared. "He should be, but…why's he shakin'?"
Dick hadn't realized he was shaking.
"He's fine," Loud Voice said dismissively. "Brat's just scared. Rich kid like him probably isn't used to stuff like this… Unless that shit they're saying about Wayne is true. Hey, kid! Is it true the rich guy beats you?"
"NNNNNNNGGGGG!" Dick shook his head furiously. How dare they put Bruce on the same level as them! They were nothing but scum! Bruce was worth a million of them!
Loud Voice laughed. "Alright, kid. Keep your hair on. Just askin' a question."
"He's more agitated than I thought he'd be after a shot of this," Boss Man commented.
Dick wanted to hit him. They'd kidnapped him, tied him up, practically crushed him, shoved a freaking sock into his mouth and now they were drugging him? Of course he was agitated! He growled through the gag and kicked at empty air.
"Yeah, he is," Loud Voice muttered. "I thought that shit was supposed to mellow him out?"
"It does," Nasal Voice answered. There was a pause before a reluctant, "But the first trip can be bad sometimes."
"And you're only saying that now?!" Boss Man hissed.
"Hey! You're the one who wanted to give it to him, not me!"
"Yeah, because I wanted to keep the kid controllable, not make it harder to keep him quiet!"
Dick twisted and writhed on the bed while they argued. His skin was crawling and nausea bubbled in his stomach again. He was going to be sick. Dick needed to get the sock out of his mouth before he choked on his own vomit!
Desperately, he rubbed the side of his face against the bed, trying to get the belt off. It wouldn't budge and Dick felt his stomach heave. He mewled frantically to get their attention.
"Shit, man! Shit!" exclaimed Nasal Voice, and hands tried to yank the belt up along Dick's face, but only succeeded in scraping his cheek. "He's gonna be sick! He's gonna choke!"
"Calm down and get the buckle, moron!" snapped Boss Man, although he sounded panicked as well.
Dick retched and choked as bile hit the sock. He could hear the clinking of the buckle by his ear, and the panicked mutterings of Nasal Voice before his mouth was suddenly, blessedly free. Dick heaved and spewed over the edge of the bed. It felt oddly relieving.
"Oh, for fuck's sake! Not again," Loud Voice complained. "I thought kids were supposed to get easier once they got older?"
"We drugged him, man, he can't help it!" Nasal Voice whined.
"So now what?" Loud Voice demanded. "Jesus, this is way harder than I thought it would be!"
"I won…I won' give any morrre troubllle," Dick slurred, trying to fight the sensation of floating that was now swallowing him. It was getting harder to focus. "I won…I'll be…good."
There was silence before Boss Man addressed him. "That's right. You're gonna be a good boy from now on, aren't you?"
"Uh…huh…" Dick managed to nod. It was weird; he still felt sick, but he also felt…kind of good. The pain in his arm and head weren't even so bad anymore.
"Problem solved," Boss Man said. "Kid's not gonna care about jack squat for the next few hours. Give him a few minutes. If he doesn't need to get sick again, put the gag back in."
The gag. Somewhere it occurred to Dick that he was supposed to be bothered about that, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was too busy melting into a comforting pool of warm.