Chapter Text
“I’ve got eyes on Big Bird.”
Bruce tensed up, the eyes of his cowl narrowing at Jason’s words. “Where?” he bit out, feeling even more tense now that they had eyes on their prize. Beside him, Robin stood stock still, the only movement from the boy being his fist clenching and unclenching on the hilt of his blade.
“West wall, third floor, second room from the left.” Jason’s words were half-bitten, sounding like he was working himself up into a righteous fury. “Can’t identify injuries from here…”
Batman grunted in response.
“Three guards outside,” Tim said as he peered through his heat-vision binoculars. “Eight on the first floor, Five on the second. There’s two positioned outside the room they’ve got him in.”
Over the comms, Bruce could hear Cass’s impatient huff. Usually, Cassandra was the most patient of her siblings. She could sit in one spot, unmoving, watching a target for hours on end. But finding Dick after he’d been missing for two weeks seemed to test even Black Bat’s restraint.
They were all on edge. Had been since they realized, a week ago, that their big brother and eldest son had gone missing.
“Robin, you take the three outside. Red Robin, Black Bat, take the ones on the base floor. Red Hood and I will enter through the second story and work our way up to Nightwing.”
“Tt!” Damian hissed, bristling next to his father. “I should be the one accompanying you to rescue Nightwing, not him!”
“What, Demon Spawn, you jealous that Dickie-bird’s gonna see my gorgeous face first?”
“Todd, I swear-” Damian snarled, only to be cut off by Bruce’s sharp: “Names in the field. Robin, you will take the guards outside.”
“Father, I- “
“No arguing,” Bruce snarled, the anger behind his voice so strong that Damian almost flinched. “This mission is too important for petty disagreements. We’ll go in all at once to catch them all off-guard. On my mark…”
Bruce glared at the goons outside, waiting for them to drop their guard and point their guns downward before he hissed, “Now.”
Damian knocked the guards outside unconscious before they realized what was happening. Red Robin and Black Bat rushed in the back door, launching an attack at the eight guards that caught them by surprise. Simultaneously, Red Hood and Batman shattered windows on the second floor, rolling to a stop and taking out their five goons in mere moments. The two guards at either side of the room hiding Dick away were immediately alerted to the attack, but even with their high-caliber rounds, they were a couple of mere thugs-for-hire against Batman and Red Hood, two of the most feared men in Gotham.
With the guards unconscious- with bullets in their feet and biceps, something that Bruce couldn’t bring himself to even berate his son for- Bruce was able to pick the lock, leaving Jason to kick down the door so hard that the frame splintered.
“Shit,” Jason swore, pausing momentarily in the doorway at the sight of his older brother. Bruce didn’t hesitate, rushing forward to support Dick’s hanging frame.
It appeared that Dick had long since given up on keeping himself upright, his knees scraping the ground and his arms pulled up over his head by thick chains. The chains had managed to dislocate one of his shoulders, their metal cuffs biting into the skin of his wrists and making them bleed. Trails of dried blood ran down Dick’s forearms, his body coated in a thick sheen of sweat. The young man’s head was hanging downwards, his face hidden by his mop of curls, matted with dirt, blood, and sweat.
Bruce’s hand rested on Dick’s bare chest, the other going to wrap around his back-
A strained whimper wrangled its way out of Dick’s throat, and Bruce quickly lightened his grip. Peering over his son’s shoulder, Bruce cursed under his breath when he saw the mangled hunk of flesh that was Dick’s back.
Jason had moved to support Dick from behind, lifting under his arms to try and relieve the pressure on his shoulders. “They whipped him,” Jason hissed in realization. “Those fuckers whipped him.”
“What?!” Damian snarled over the comm. “These savages deserve greater than death- “
Tim began speaking, trying to calm Damian down. The boy retaliated, of course, but Bruce tuned his two youngest out in favor of noting his son’s current state.
Besides his shoulders and wrists, Dick’s back was an utter mess of deep gashes. Some of them were old, scabbed over with yellow and green infection, while others were hours’ fresh, still trickling blood. The blood in Dick’s hair came from a headwound- likely how they had managed to kidnap him in the first place- and, as Bruce gently felt around the welt, he found himself relieved that it wasn’t actively bleeding. Any more blood lost and… Well, it wouldn’t be good.
The thing that concerned Bruce the most, though, was that- ever since they had entered the room- Dick hadn’t lifted his head once.
Jason must have noticed the same thing because he spouted, “Hey, Goldie, you with us? Because if we went to all this trouble to rescue you and you die, I’m gonna have to bring you back and kill you. Maybe I’ll let Alfie lend a hand, too.”
Dick didn’t respond, and Bruce could sense the waves of concern rolling off of Jason’s body.
“Dick?” Bruce murmured, his hand going to brush against his son’s cheek. Dick whimpered again, and Bruce clenched his jaw. “Dick,” he all but crooned, going to cup Dick’s cheek with his palm and lifting the young man’s face up. “Chum-”
Bruce’s voice cut off, his tight jaw going slack. He felt cold horror wash over his body, and he had to close his eyes and breathe deeply through his nose to calm himself.
“B?” Jason offered, sounding more concerned that Bruce had heard him in quite some time. “B, what- oh, fuck.”
At once, the other two of Bruce’s sons started shouting demands of a status report. Bruce could’ve sworn he heard Cass whisper something, too, but he was a bit too concerned about Dick’s face to respond.
They had stitched his mouth shut.
They had stitched Bruce’s son’s mouth shut.
It wasn’t medical thread, either. No, the bastards had to go and get the scratchiest, thickest black thread that they could find, and sew it into Dick’s skin. Dick’s lips were swollen from the injury, a dangerous shade of purple whereas the rest of his face was fatally pale. Frayed strands were saturated with dark blood, and black, crusty scabs adhered the thread to the holes in Dick’s flesh. The holes were large, too, as if someone had been tugging on the thread. Bruce realized, his stomach churning, that the facial injury was older than the whip marks.
They had sewed Dick’s mouth shut and then tortured him, knowing he would be unable to scream without causing himself more pain.
It took a moment, seeing as how he was busy inspecting the stitches, but Bruce then realized Dick was staring at him. Cloudy blue eyes met the lenses of Bruce’s cowl, showing confusion and fear and… defeat.
Bruce wasn’t sure if it was physically possible, but he thought he felt something in his chest crack at the sight of his son’s eyes.
“Batman?” Damian’s voice rang out from the doorway, and Bruce cursed again.
“Hood, take Robin away from here.”
But Damian must have already gotten a glimpse of his eldest brother, because the boy stuttered out a fearful, “F-Father?”
“Hood!” Bruce snarled, launching Jason into action. It spoke volumes that Jason didn’t even argue, just strode towards Damian and picked the boy up, slinging him over his shoulder. Damian’s furious protests, his fists banging on Jason’s back, echoed through the building.
“Red Robin,” Bruce said, glancing towards Tim. The teenager was standing off to the side, his hand half stretched out as though he were going to help but then froze in shock. “Red Robin,” Bruce said again, more firmly. “Go get the Batmobile. Alert Agent A and Dr. Thompkins.” When Tim didn’t move, Bruce growled, “Now!”
The tone made Red Robin leap into action, and he raced from the room.
Now it was just Bruce and his daughter.
Really, Bruce didn’t want any of his children to be subject to this- seeing it or experiencing it- but he knew, deep down, that Cass was the one who would be able to best compartmentalize Dick’s injuries.
“Black Bat, help me get him down.”
Cass rushed forward, supporting Dick’s boneless body with all of her might- he may have been shorter than Jason and Bruce, but Dick was still heavy to the small teen- as Bruce reached up and began picking the locks of the chains.
When Dick’s arms were released, Bruce brought them- as slowly as he could- down towards Dick’s torso. A near-silent sob ripped from the young man’s chest, and Bruce felt so, so cold at hearing his son’s wretched noises.
Dick couldn’t even cry properly, what with the fucking thread in his face.
The young man, despite no longer being attached to the ceiling, was still far too weak to be able to stand, even with support. So, Bruce grabbed him up in a bridal carry, turning his curses inward when Dick’s body began to shake from the pain of touch on his mangled back. Cass reached out and ran her fingers through Dick’s hair, not quite pushing it out of the way, but merely comforting herself with the familiar touch.
Bruce wondered if she was subconsciously trying to hide his injuries.
The Batmobile wouldn’t fit all of them, but Tim and Jason had motorcycles in nearby alleyways. Batman ordered Damian to ride with Jason- ignoring the boy’s protests- and quickly placed Dick in the backseat of the Batmobile. Cass snuck in behind her brother, pulling her cape off and laying it over Dick’s chest for warmth. It was near freezing outside, and Dick’s body was already wracked with shivers from pain. He didn’t need hypothermia on top of his already-extensive injuries.
The drive back to the Cave was too long. Bruce kept throwing looks into the rearview mirror, feeling the crack in his chest widening every time. Cass had removed her hood, and her eyes were quickly turning damp. She had pulled Dick’s head into her lap and was running her fingers through his hair again, seemingly trying to unknot the tangles as gently as she could. Dick’s eyes had long since closed, gently shut as if he were merely sleeping and not in unimaginable pain.
“Cassandra, keep track of his heartrate,” Bruce said, unable to dish anything else out but orders as he tried to get a hold on his emotional state.
Cass nodded, taking off her gloves and pressing her hands to Dick’s throat and inner wrist. From the twist of her lips and furrow of her brow, Bruce knew Dick wasn’t doing well.
He wished the Batmobile could go faster.
Upon finally reaching the Cave, Alfred rushed to help Bruce move Dick over to a medical cot. Immediately upon settling the young man on his side, Alfred went about sticking Dick with IV’s and hooking him up to heart and O2 monitors.
The roaring of motorcycles filled the Cave, signaling that Bruce’s other children had arrived.
“Father!” Damian shouted, his voice sounding awfully raw, as he rushed towards the cot. “Father, is Grayson- is he- is he-” Damian’s eyes met Dick’s face, and the boy froze solid.
“Damian…” Bruce murmured, unsure of what to say. “Damian, kiddo-”
To Bruce’s surprise, it was Tim to who stepped forward, pulling off his mask and placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Even more surprising, Damian didn’t fight him. “Let’s go get a change of clothes for Dick, yeah?” Tim spoke gently to the young boy. Wordlessly, eyes still fixated on Dick’s mouth, Damian nodded. His stare finally broke when Tim led him to the Cave’s locker room, Dick now out of his line of sight.
“What-” Jason started, then cleared his throat. “What can I do to help?”
Alfred replied quickly, “Master Dick will need a blood transfusion. Master Jason, would you please ready the blood bag? And Master Bruce- “
But Bruce was already pulling off the top part of his uniform, shedding his cape and cowl and sitting down, tying a tourniquet around his arm in preparation for the transfusion.
It was halfway through the transfusion that Leslie showed up. She took one look at Dick and then was snatching up a scalpel and tweezers. “We’ll get that thread off of him before I look at his back,” she spoke to Alfred but informed the room at large. “I don’t want him tearing anything when I’m treating his back wounds.”
I don’t want him shredding his lips when he’s screaming in pain.
Bruce closed his eyes and breathed.
His son was home.
That was all that mattered.
They’d figure out the rest later.