Chapter Text
Richard John Grayson did not get adopted by Bruce Wayne after the death of his parents. Wayne took an interest in the boy and prevented him from being swept away by the system. He was there for him, a legal advocate when the pre-teen’s immigration status was called into question. With the discovery that he was indeed an American citizen, having been born undocumented at the circus, Bruce helped to place Dick with a good foster home. He was fostered, but never adopted, by a new transfer to the GCPD, Maggie Sawyer, and lived a relatively simple life. He is, however, a world renowned Gymnastic having won several Olympic Gold and World Championship medals before he was 18. He joined the GCPD Academy right out of high school, completed his 2-year training period with several commendations, and has served in the GCPD as a Police Office III for four years. He is 25 years old.
Jason Todd-Wayne was twelve when he was taken in by Batman after attempting to steal the tires from the Batmobile. Bruce intended to do as he did with Grayson, only for Todd’s rough edges to mesh with Bruce’s and the two almost seamlessly fit together after several loud clashes. Alfred convinced him to foster Jason himself, especially given that Jason was aware of his Batman identity, and Bruce agreed. Six months later, Jason became Nightwing (a name taken from a Kryptonian legend just to annoy Bruce) and joined Batman fighting crime. A year after that, Nightwing was kidnapped by the Joker and beaten with a tire iron. Left for dead, he was rescued by Batman only seconds before the bomb in the warehouse would have killed him. After months recovering, Nightwing became Red Hood to piss off the Joker and Jason was legally adopted by Bruce Wayne. He graduated high school and college with a business degree with honors and has been working beside Bruce at Wayne Industries for the past year. He is 22 years old.
Timothy Drake-Wayne was fostered by Bruce Wayne when he was fourteen years old after the death of both his parents. They were neighbours and old friends of the Waynes, and their will asked Bruce to watch over their son and business until Tim was old enough to take over the reigns of Drake Pharmaceuticals. Bruce does, and Redwing (an homage to the original Nightwing) joined Batman and Red Hood. A years later Bruce adopted Tim when the teen asked him to, after telling Bruce he was more of a father than his own dad had been. Feeling high school was a pointless necessity, he took his GED and with Bruce’s help became an emancipated minor at the age of sixteen. This gave him control of Drake Pharmaceuticals which he merged with Wayne Industries. He has been leading the Pharmaceutical department successfully for two years. He is 18 years old.
Barbara & Jim Gordon were good friend to Jason and Bruce the first few years after Jason’s arrival. After Nightwing’s kidnapping, Barbara admitted to knowing the Big Bat secret and joined Batman as Batgirl while Jason was recovering. Even though she was 18 at the time, Bruce would only agree if Jim allowed it, and the trio surprise the man when they reveal the Big Bat Secret to him as well. Several years later, she was shot and paralyzed by the Joker and Jim kidnapped and tormented into near insanity. Upon rescue and recovery, Barbara become Oracle and Jim retired. She is 28 years old; Jim is 59 years old.
1: “You were supposed to be at work!”
It had been twenty-six hours since Dick had been back to his place, and he was running on fumes at this point. And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. The only way he managed to climb the stairs of his condo building was the thought of a long hot shower in the new steam-shower he had installed last week and then falling into bed for the next twelve hours.
Though at the moment he was questioning why he had to get a corner suite on the top floor of a six-story condo complex with only a service elevator not for general us. By the time he reached his floor, his light jacket was held in his hand and the uniform shirt buttons were undone. The straps holding the bullet-proof vest against his torso had been loosened for comfort. He was just sliding his key into the deadbolt when his neighbour’s door opened.
“Good evening, Officer Grayson.” The middle-aged woman in a pair colourful scrubs greeted as she stepped into the hall, her own jacket draped in her arms and purse over one shoulder.
“Evening, Nurse Hennessey.” He grinned at her and held his door partially open. With a nod to the rainbow and cartoon unicorn pattern clothes she wore he asked, “Night shift on the pediatrics ward tonight, Sophie?”
“Wouldn’t catch me dead in these things otherwise.” She chuckled with a smile of her own. “And what are you doing home so early, Dick? Thought you had the night shift this week too. I was going to text you later to bring me coffee from Ángelos’.”
“I do – or I did.” He leaned against the doorframe as she approached him. “But I got talked into a double when Brie’s son got sick this morning. She took my shift tonight since her wife was due back from DC this afternoon. She’s paired up with John tonight, so text him and they’ll swing by.”
“Is Kevin okay?” She asked with a small frown of worry. “He’s just getting over his last bout of pneumonia.”
“It’s a flu bug that has kept more than half of his daycare home this week. He had a fever this morning so they’re watching him. No other symptoms, she said.” He assured her. “They’re managing his asthma well; the new meds seem to actually be doing their job.
“Good. I’ll call Carolyne later, see how they’re doing.” She glanced down at her watch and sighed. “I’d stop by now, check on the little tyke, but I’m going to be late if I do.”
“I could give you a ride over to the hospital, if you wanted to check on him.” He offered, silently bidding his shower good-bye.
“You look like you’re already dead on your feet.” She shook her head and patted his arm affectionately. “Go, get cleaned up and get some sleep.”
“That’s the plan, for at least the next twelve hours. John and I switch back to days this rotation, so I’ve got the next three days off.” He said and leaned down to give the older woman a quick peck on the cheek. “Have a good shift tonight, Sophie. Wake me up when you get home tomorrow, and I’ll buy you breakfast. You can catch me up on all the gossip around this place”
She laughed and nodded. “Sleep, Dick. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He watched the woman disappear behind the door to the stairwell and stepped into his dark condo with a smile, closing the door behind him.
He loved living here and had been lucky to have bought the place during the construction phase two years ago. It was centrally located between the 29th GCPD Precinct (his precinct), Station 12 of the GCFD, and St. Augustine’s Hospital, so most of the residents were first responders like himself. Several of his fellow officers had suites in the building with their families. Hell, his own partner had jumped at a condo on the second floor the minute it came up for sale. (John was moving in next month.) It was a secured building and in a good neighbourhood that was low on crime.
Which is why he was surprised to find himself suddenly staring down the barrel of a modified .44 magnum Desert Eagle handgun in his own home.
He reacted on instinct, knocking the weapon out of the man’s hand before he had a chance to fire and throwing his jacket into the intruder’s face. He stepped into the thug’s space, driving a solid punch into the man’s solar plexus. He hadn’t been expecting the body armor beneath the leather jacket or the sweeping kick that forced him back if he didn’t want to get hit. The uniform jacket was torn from the intruder’s head as Dick moved back in to engage. He took note of the dark crimson mask the guy wore but filed it away for later as they start exchanging blows.
Dick’s condo had an open floor concept, which meant the fight took them from the entrance through the kitchen and into the living room without hindrance. The guy was good. Well trained, skilled, and fast, and had Dick gritting his teeth with every strike he landed because the guy was not only bigger and stockier than him, but he was wearing armor on pretty much every part of his body. The guy was taking advantage of that fact and Dick knew he would be sporting some very vivid bruising if he survived… whatever this was.
“Will you all please just shut-the-fuck-up for a minute!?” The assailant suddenly snarled, his voice deep and husky, and Dick didn’t think he was talking to him.
Unfortunately, it was enough of a distraction that the guy was able to reach for a dark red motorcycle helmet that was on the sofa. With a vicious swing it slammed across Dick’s face.
Pain exploded in his mouth and nose and could feel the blood even as he was momentarily lifted from his feet. His back collided with the glass top of his coffee table which thankfully didn’t shatter beneath him. It did knock the air from his lungs, however, and he laid there trying to draw in breath.
“Shit!” The masked thug angrily threw the helmet to the floor. “Fuck!” He hissed as he dragged Dick off the low table and to the floor with a thump. It hurt, but at least it kick-started his breathing and he inhaled with a ragged gasp. “Goddammit! You were supposed to be at work!”
The intruder quickly and efficiently removed his gun belt and tossed it aside, then immediately went for the spare piece Dick had strapped in his ankle holster. His taser and baton were chucked across the room next. Fingers searched every pocket in his uniform and removed everything found before he was flipped onto his stomach and his hands pulled behind his back.
“Yes, I am well aware that I have just assaulted a goddamn cop!” The man was talking to himself again as he used Dick’s own cuffs to secure his hands in place at the small of his back. “What else what I suppose to do? He attacked me!”
“You had a gun in my face, asshole.” He spat a mouthful of blood onto his hardwood floor, turning his head to glare at the man when he stood over him. In the dim streetlight that filtered in through the window, Dick finally got a good look at the intruder.
He was taller than Dick, easily six-two or three; thick with muscles and black body armor and wore a black and red leather motorcycle jacket. But it was the dark red mask and crest blazoned across the chest piece that had the anger rising up. There was no chance he wasn’t going to recognize a Bat now that he saw him.
“Okay, maybe not my best idea, but he surprised me!” The Red Hood vigilante snarked at whoever he was talking to. He rolled Dick onto his back and had to duck when Dick swung his leg up with hopes of kicking the other man in the head. “Damn, this guy is limber.” Red Hood moved to pin Dick’s legs to the ground and a minute later, despite his struggles, several heavy-duty cable-ties held his ankles together.
“Fuck you, Hood!” Dick squirmed as he was grabbed with a strong grip beneath his armpits and dragged across the floor. He was pushed up in a sitting position against the cast-iron radiator a few feet away from the window and a couple more plastic ties were used to secure Dick’s upper arms to the vertical slats.
“No shit? He’s got how many gold medals?”
“Will you stop fucking ignori-” The gloved hand clapped over his mouth and it was then that Dick suddenly realized he couldn’t breath through his bloodied nose. His eyes went wide, and he thrashed in the restraints, frantic to move the hand that was now suffocating him.
“Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute, B.”
The vigilante pressed something on the collar of his jacket and finally turned his attention to his captive, only to swear when he recognized Dick’s distress. The hand was dropped away from Dick’s mouth quickly with a muttered apology while he was once again panting for breath.
“Okay, look.” Red Hood wiped a weary down his face before crouching next to Dick. “There’s things happening at the restaurant a block over-”
“It’s called dinner service.” He griped, testing the cuffs and ties with a flex of his muscles. There was absolutely no give in them.
An amused grin quirked Red Hood’s mouth for an instant before his face fell neutral and he continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “-and this window of yours has the only clear view of the back entrance. It can’t be seen from the roof and the fire escape is too exposed. You were scheduled for the nightshift tonight, which worked perfectly for this op, so you should have never known I’d been here.”
“So, it’s my fault you break into my home, assault me, and tie me up?” Dick growled and leveled a withering glare at the other man. “Fuck you, asshole. HELP!”
His yell was cut off by the gloved hand that was again over his mouth and stifling his breathing. He shook his head, yelling against the leather and making as much noise as he could before he passed out. Red Hood had other ideas, and with a frustrated curse the Bat was suddenly tying a strip of fabric tightly between Dick’s lips. The cloth muffled his shouts while still allowing him to breathe, and for the first time in two years he was cursing the extra sound proofing between the floors and suites that had been a big selling point for the building.
Resignation to the situation finally overcame him and his slumped defeated in the bindings. He was panting around the gag, his chin resting on his chest, and closed his eyes. His body was feeling every bruise that was already forming and his wrists throbbed from his struggles against the cuffs. He startled when he felt a hand rest lightly on the back of his head and he jerked away from the touch.
“I’m really sorry, man.” Red Hood said genuinely.
Dick lifted his head, flicking his hair back with a toss of his head, and made no pretense of hiding the fact that he was observing every move Red Hood made. He let his fury show as he watched Red Hood moved back to the front door and lock it, engaging the security chain as well, before retrieving his weapon. He holstered it and came back to the window, leaning against the frame and press the same spot on his jacket collar.
“Situation contained. Red Hood back in position. Going radio silent.” The man’s voice sounded fatigued, Dick would almost say remorseful, but he refused to feel anything but loathing for the vigilante.
He used to defend the Bats and others like them. Most of the costumed ‘Heroes’ did some real good and tried to stay within the laws. But this? Red Hood had held a gun on him then beat him bloody and now kept him falsely imprisoned in his own home. It was so far outside the law that it didn’t matter to Dick what supposed crime they were trying to stop. The end did not justify the means. As far as he was concerned, the Red Hood was no better than the rest of the thugs on the street.
Already exhausted from work, he felt his body practically going numb as the adrenalin left him. He sighed, drew his knees up toward his chest, and shifted his body as much as he could to get somewhat comfortable. Not that it mattered. Even though he was tired he knew he wouldn’t sleep tied up and gagged as he was. He felt Red Hood glance at him on occasion but wouldn’t look at him again.
Near silence filled the condo. The ornamental clock Maggie had given him as a house warming present ticked away every second of the fucked-up situation he found himself in. His nose had finally stopped bleeding, though he still couldn’t breathe through his nostrils and he didn’t doubt that it was broken. The splits inside his mouth from where the helmet had smashed his lips against his teeth had been pressed against the fabric of the gag, stemming the flow of blood. However, the cloth was thick with it and left a vile, coppery taste on his tongue.
The clock ticked for almost two hours before another sound was made.
“I’ve got movement.” Red Hood said without turning away from the window. He lifted a hand to his mask and pressed his finger against the side. “Red’s intel was spot on. It’s Two-Face’s goons. They’ve gone in. Heading to intercept, ETA 90 seconds.”
Red Hood pushed away from the window and Dick was unable to stop the way he flinched at the sudden movement. He groaned at the pain that flared through his bruised and stiff muscles and levelled one last glare at the Bat when he paused next to Dick. “O, when we’re clear of the scene send someone for Officer Grayson.”
The bloodied helmet was picked up from the floor on his way into Dick’s bedroom where he disappeared without looking back. Dick heard the window open, heavy boots on the fire-escape, and the window slide shut again. He was alone with the ticking again, though a few minutes later he could vaguely make out the sounds of gunfire and squealing tires in the distance. Sirens soon pierced the still of the night and thirty minutes after Red Hood had left there was an urgent pounding on his door.
“Grayson? Dick, you in there?”
Relief flooded through him, the niggling doubt that the Bats would have forgotten about him fleeing at his partner’s voice. He yelled John’s name around the gag, the sound muffled, and he was unsure if it would be heard beyond the heavy fire-door. John called out to him again, the door handle jiggling, and Dick responded as well as he could while he pounded his tied feet against the hard floor.
“Grayson!? Fuck! Dick hang on, we’re coming!”
It took another couple of seconds before he heard the loud pop of a shotgun and the breacher round destroyed the deadbolt. It took two kicks to the door to open it, the second needed when the security chair held momentarily in place. Officer John Blake was the first one through the opening, weapon in hand and the promise of murder in his brown eyes.
“Mother fucker!” He hissed when he saw Dick. He motioned for the other officers to spread out through the suite as he made a beeline for his partner. Brie Henry was a step behind him, her radio mike already lifted to her lips.
“Three-delta-eleven to dispatch: we are 10:13 and requesting an ambulance at 6-1-8, 1-3-4-3 Moldoff Avenue.”
“10-4 three-delta-eleven; ambulance dispatched from St. Augustine’s, ETA four minutes.”
“Fucking hell, Dick!” John’s gun was back in its holster when he knelt beside Dick, fingers hooking beneath the fabric and pulling the gag from his mouth. “What happened!?”
He was panting now that he could breathe relatively unhindered, wincing as John was worriedly inspecting his bloodied face. “Came home to find goddamn Red Hood pointing a gun in my face.”
“A Bat did this!?” Brie spat, crouching down by his feet where she sliced through the plastic ties with her pocket knife. “What the fuck!? I thought they were the good guys!”
“So did I.” Dick snarled as John cut the ties holding his arms to the radiator. He hissed at the pins and needles the return of circulation to his arms brought. Shifting his body forward, he twisted his torso to give John better access to the cuffs restraining him.
“Place is clear.” Two other officers came back into the living room, the anger at the treatment of one of their own evident on their face. “You okay, Grayson?”
Now free of the cuffs, Brie and John were helping him to his feet. Dick’s head spun with the raise in elevation, his vision graying out at the edges. “Yeah…” He gasped as the grey quickly turned to black. “Just… don’t freak… when I pass the fuck out…”
The black rushed over him, his knees buckled beneath him, and his ears rang with the shouts of his name as this body gave in to the exhaustion and battery.
Goddamn fucking Bats…