Being teleported forcefully from his home was not Tim's idea of a vacation. He could not bear to think of not seeing his family again, even the demon-brat. His hands were cold and shaking, as his entire being was wracked by sobs. He should not act this way, he was almost seventeen! Dad always told him he was strong but the weight of his cape around him had kept him safe all those patrols in somber Gotham. It kept him from spiraling, knowing that Bruce watched over him.

But his adoptive dad was not here. His cheerful, reliable eldest brother was nowhere in sight. The rebellious second brother was not around either. Even his threats would comfort him now. His kind older sister did not travel here with him, so there was no chance for hugs, or whispered jokes to make him feel better. And his baby brother…was Damian okay? What if he got sent somewhere alone also?

He was just eleven. They might have had their differences and their war might have prolonged and clouded their vision sometimes, as they fought tooth and nails for the silliest of things. Like the last piece of cake, who got to choose the movie, whose art was better, who won an approving glance from their busy father but, he was his baby brother. And in his heart of hearts, he loved the gremlin. He had to pull himself together, for his family.

So Tim quickly began to wipe his tears away, fast enough to scratch at his red-rimmed eyes. He was in a cell, a very technologically advanced cell that he had tried to hack before. Unfortunately it did not yield any success. He half contemplated acting like a brat and insulting his kidnappers as long as they would come for him. As long as anyone would.

He was feeling so lonely he started talking to himself, concluding this was worse than the time he lost his spleen. Boredom has always been his arch-nemesis.

Tim tried to stay awake to gather as much data as he could, but eventually, he fell into a deep slumber, exhausted.

When he woke up, there was a man near him. He was tall, pompous, old, and obviously evil. It was Ra's al Ghul, his second arch nemesis. He watched him like a hawk would a baby turtle and the insinuation did not make Tim calmer. The man inspected the lock, several times. A silver of irritation could be seen on his face. He smirked and said, "Had a nice dream, Timothy?"

"I could do without the living nightmare, Ra's," he quipped looking intently at him.

"I embody your nightmares, little detective? I'm flattered," Ra's said and cackled. Gosh, he reminded him so much of Dames sometimes. It was surreal and irritating.

"More like you're fugly like a nightmare," Tim said, pushing his luck.

"Impudent whelp! I ought to whip you!" Ra's said, his teeth clenching and his body trembling with rage.

"Then why won't you?" Tim asked bravely, but he was nervous. He knew Ra's was merciless and he doubted his whipping will feel the same as Bruce's spankings even though they were, unfortunately, practically family since Bruce did not divorce Talia.

"Look closely, Timothy. Tell me what you deduce?" Ra's said.

Well, Ra's was not with his usual assassins, that could mean he wanted an audience, but if that were the case, he would have long been whipped for giving him lip. The posture was all wrong though. Ra's clearly enjoyed his torment but, he looked like an animal that wanted to escape a cage and, oh fuck, he tried the lock and did the same expression Damian did when Bruce locked them in a room to sort out their differences. Fuck.

"You-you're a prisoner too," Tim stammered out.

"Well done, detective."