Chapter Text
Dick Grayson woke up in his least favorite (but all too familiar) way: mildly concussed and tied up. Groaning, he blinks a few times and tries to orient himself to his surroundings. He was in a dimly lit warehouse, chained up against the wall in some sort of electric handcuffs around his wrists and ankles. Thankfully he was still in uniform, and his mask was still on his face (yay for no identity reveal) but his utility built and escrima sticks are gone.
Looking around, it appeared that the warehouse itself was fairly empty, with just some random crates and miscellaneous junk scattered around the room. No traces of his gear.
While all of that is rather typical for a kidnapping in Dick's experience, his next observation is less than ideal. Batman is also cuffed to the wall on his right, looking at Dick with a concerned expression. To Dick's left, all of his brothers, Red Hood, Red Robin, and even his littlest brother (and honorary son), Robin, are all similarly cuffed to the wall. All still masked and suited up, but no weapons in sight.
"If you guys wanted to have a family reunion before our weekly dinner you could've just called me," Dick rasps out, wishing the pounding of his head would dull. "I mean, this is a little dramatic, even for you guys."
"If I could move my legs I would kick you right now," Jason deadpans.
"What a shame."
Before Jason can reply, Bruce changes the subject in his analytical Batman-esque manner. "Not important. Nightwing, status report."
Dick huffs before trying his best to recall the events of the evening. "I was on solo patrol in Bludhaven this evening. It was a pretty quiet night so I am not too sure how I got whammied. Likely concussion. Possible bruised ribs. My left ankle feels semi-twisted but otherwise no complaints. Are you guys alright?"
It's Tim who responds this time. "The same happened to us. All whammied on patrol separately with no memory of a fight or combatant. Bruised up but no significant injuries for any of us."
Dick sighs in relief. "How long have you all been awake?"
"B and the Demon Brat got taken down first about two hours ago, followed by Red Robin shortly thereafter." Jason intercedes, "After they all went dark, Oracle reached out to me and I quickly joined the club. You were fashionably late, per usual, so we've all been waiting for you to wake up for about 30 minutes."
Dick gives a weak smile in return, "What can I say? I like to make an entrance." He then pauses, noticing that Damian hasn't chimed in yet. "Baby Bat? How are you doing?"
"I am unharmed, Nightwing," comes Damian's irritated voice. Dick glances across his brothers to see that Damian is looking at him with an expression that has a barely restrained eye roll.
"Don't mind him, he's just grouchy that someone got the jump on him," Tim adds with a small laugh.
Dick gives a small smile in return, thankful for the confirmation that his son is conscious and well.
"We all will be reviewing situational awareness once we get out of this. Robin is not the only one who got captured." Bruce interjects, causing a series of groans from the others. Nothing like a mandatory bat-seminar to ruin weekend plans. Assuming they are free in time to have weekend plans.
All things considered, this kidnapping is not off to a rough start, except for the limited options for rescuers at this point.
Dick decides to ask the obvious question, "Do we know why this happened?"
Batman takes the lead on this one. "No. We've also exhausted all options for escape at this point. Our comms are gone, and any means by which Agent A or Oracle could have tracked us have been removed. At this point, we are at the mercy of our captor until we learn more."
Wonderful.
It was at this moment that a side door of the warehouse creaked open and their host decided to grace them with his presence. "What an astute observation, Batman. You all are indeed at my mercy."
Dick squints as the man walks leisurely into their view under the dim lighting. He's wearing a black tattered robe and has long, mangled brown hair that reaches past his shoulders. He seemingly is unarmed, but his robe could be hiding anything underneath it. If Dick had to carbon date him, he'd estimate that the man was in his 30s. His face is pale with deep bags like the man hasn't slept soundly in a long time. Relatable. However, the most striking feature of this man is his topaz-colored eyes, which are zeroed in on his family with a look of deep hatred.
As Dick takes all this information in, he determines that he does not recognize this new villain. Which is just great, because it means this kidnapping is probably going to last a lot longer than his typical stints as Gotham's renowned "Boy Hostage." Known villains have familiar patterns and ways he knows how to rile them up to escape. Unknowns require extra time and consideration when responding.
The man proceeds forward until he is standing right in front of Batman, then goes on to silently glare at him, nostrils flaring.
"Do you know who I am?" he demands.
Batman responds in a neutral manner. "I do not."
The man's face twists with even more boiling rage. "Of course you wouldn't. Why would the Dark Knight care about the collateral damage of his mistakes when there is no one to hold him accountable for it?"
Batman's facial expression does not change, but Dick can clearly see him speculating from the bits and pieces of information this man has offered him.
"Unlike some of your more flamboyant nemeses, I'll get straight to the point. My name is Algar Ewart." He pauses, watching as Batman's eyes widen slightly in response. "Ah, so you do recognize my name at least. That won't save you from the consequences of your failures."
From his other side, Dick hears an exasperated groan. "Cut the dramatics. What's so important about the name Algar Ewart besides it clearly indicating that your parents wanted you to be bullied in school?” Jason growls.
Dick pushes down the urge to chuckle.
Despite the prodding, Ewart doesn't break eye contact with Batman. "Why don't you do the honors?" he demands.
Dick can see Bruce hesitate for a moment. "Ewart is the surname of the man who we could not locate and rescue during that apartment fire in the narrows five weeks ago. He was the sole victim of the tragedy."
Jason whistles. "You look pretty good for someone who was slow-roasted a month ago. What moisturizer do you use?"
Ewart doesn't take the bait. "It was my older brother, Cenric, who perished in the fire. Perished due to your failures," he states furiously. "Everyone knows that the Bats are the protectors of Gotham. The Bats are supposed to save the day. Well, in this case, the Bats were negligent and the Bats failed."
Ewart turns from Batman, walking so that he now faces the group as a whole. "It was your job to keep that flamethrower lunatic, the Firefly, in Arkham. As a direct result of your failures, he escaped and set Cenric's home ablaze."
Dick tenses, now finally seeing the correlation. The plausible blame. The motivation. Not that Dick thinks it is entirely Batman's fault that this occurred, but he can certainly understand Ewart's pain.
"Even more insulting, your feeble rescue response to the fire included calling none of your little bat clan to help. You decided to scan the building floors with first responders on your own and... you. missed. him."
Dick tends to remain fairly calm in most situations, but fear and apprehension were slowly wrapping around his heart. This wasn't some villain-of-the-week vendetta. This was personal. Vengeful.
"My brother was an immortal like me, despite his lack of a magic affinity. He was my sole source of company throughout the centuries, and you carelessly took him from me in a way that I could not undo with my sorcery. Now I am cursed to walk this realm alone. Forgotten to all and loved by none." Ewart elaborates, his voice pained.
He pauses, making contentious eye contact with Gotham's Bat before lazily looking down the line of Dick's brothers.
"I thought that due to your sins, it would only be fair that I return the favor. An eye for an eye."
Dick's heart drops. Not only is this a revenge plot. It's a premeditated murder being carried out by an immortal sorcerer. The bat clan is great at countering many foes, but magic has always been their weak point.
"You will lose one member of your precious family tonight, Batman. But I thought I would be generous and let you take your pick. Which batling are you going to choose to take the punishment for you? Who will fall on the sword for your incompetence?"
Dick's mind races. This cannot be happening. He can't just rip apart their family once again. It's happened one too many times and they only just settled into a good dynamic in the past year after everything they have all been through.
Batman clearly comes to the same conclusion. "No. Your quarrel is with me. Leave them out of this," he asserts in a growly tone.
Ewart doesn't even blink. "Not an option Batman. This isn't a negotiation. It's a settlement. Choose one. Or I will take them all." His hand finally sweeps out from beneath his tattered cloak, revealing a misty red smoke swirling in his palm.
Dick can't let this happen. He won't.
"You said he was your eldest brother? The one you lost?" Dick asks hesitantly.
Batman's eyes widen. "Nightwing, quiet!" he commands, poorly concealed panic underlying his tone.
Dick doesn't even glance his way.
Ewart finally settles into eye contact with Dick, still playing with the intimidating display of magic at his fingertips. "Yes, he was."
Dick nods empathetically, "I'm sorry for your loss."
Ewart's eyes soften for a second. "Ah, finally some remorse for your leader's actions. It won't save your clan from its fate, but I appreciate the acknowledgment."
Dick nods slowly, then continues. "You said you wanted an eye for an eye?"
Ewart's eyes narrow speculatively. "Indeed."
It's Tim's voice that shouts at him this time. "Stop it, Nightwing!"
Dick still doesn't break eye contact with Ewart, his heart clenching at his brother's words. It doesn't stop Dick from what he offers next. "Then take me."