Unending

by SSspaceshark

Summary:

Tim makes his to do list every morning. This. This was not on his agenda.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Tim didn't have being blown up on his agenda today. No, that was penciled in for Thursday night right after his nightly voice chat with Kon. His to do list today had only one thing on it, the most important thing he's ever done, "Annoy Jay". But here he is, trapped under his older brother and Speedy (Why was he here?) with metal railing digging into his spine.

His eyes flicked from Jay to Speedy, Speedy was awake, trying to get up, while Jay was out cold. Jay cushioned both of them and now his big brother's blood was soaking through his t-shirt. Speedy's shifting only worked to alert whoever the fuck did this. The roofing was all but ripped off of them. Tim watched Speedy struggle to get up, to defend them, only to be thanked by brass knuckles to the head. He held back a yelp as Speedy dropped atop them, shutting his eyes to feign sleep as the person moved to look at the three.

He held back his panic as the two were lifted from him, not yet, someone threw Tim over their shoulder. He counted steps, listened for anything, nothing. He has nothing. He held his breath when his back hit cold metal and heavy doors shut. The rumble of an engine was the last thing he heard before the pinch in his neck.

Maybe he should have put this in his agenda. Being kidnapped is a Drake and Wayne specialty, he should have known the lull would end sooner rather than later. His body felt weightless before his thoughts ceased to exist.

Awareness came back to him in pieces. His body felt unnaturally hot and cold, the rumble of the engine was way too loud, voices grated at his ears. His eyes felt like a task to open and sitting up was even harder. Snow. He saw snow out the windshield. Dread sunk in his stomach with anger and frustration building, they weren't in Gotham, obviously, this had been thoroughly planned, premeditated, and as much as he didn't necessarily want to believe it, this whole thing had Batman written all over it or at least had him down as a co-author. Tim should have known. Bruce was gungho about Penguin being a bad father then Black Mask popped back up again. Two birds, one stone so to speak. He honestly thought Batman was accepting Penguin was a decent father, more than decent, Nightwing had. The blue bird had begged for Jason's forgiveness on his knees. Bruce hadn't done shit.

Also...

He still didn't know why Roy was there. Batman didn't really get along with Oliver Queen, not that Roy did too, but Speedy meant Green Arrow. Maybe the whole Justice League was involved, but Wonder Woman, Martian, and Flash (and by extension Green Lantern) liked Jay. They wouldn't deliberately put Jay in danger like that. Or Tim. Hell, Dinah would kill anyone that did this to Roy.

Being thrown over someone's shoulder again was a ordeal. He heard them laughing as they grabbed Jay then Roy, dragging the two older boys into the concrete building. These guys weren't too chatty, obviously not Gotham bred henchmen, Mask must've outsourced. Cool. Great. This just makes the situation slightly harder with the new variable. The loud screech of metal against concrete made him feel like gagging, he'll admit he did try to curl away from the sound and the guy holding him laughed. Tim hit the ground hard, knocking air out of his lungs, and the metal door screeched shut before he could breathe normally again.

Relax.

Don't panic.

Assess the situation.

Roy was waking up. Good. Tim was pretty sure they were in the northern hemisphere. Good. The only good things really. Tim didn't know where they were. Bad. Jay was hurt, he could see dried blood on the back of his head and bruises forming under the collar of his shirt. Bad. Roy wasn't much better, his left wrist didn't look right and there were rips and blood on his suit. Bad. Tim's back screamed with every movement, his right knee felt like lead. Bad. And he was pretty sure they were in a lead lined building. Very Bad. Two for seven. Arguably better odds than he thought at this point. Still bad. He tried to be optimistic though. It was public, a very public statement had been made. Two civilian kids plus Speedy were now missing. That made things slightly better. Slightly. They were still hurt and probably not getting any medical treatment.

Roy groaned, hissing through his teeth as he shifted to sit up, maybe there was more damage than Tim could see, "Fuck..." his eyes met Tim's and for a second, Tim worried about amnesia from the hit, but Roy's face relaxed, "I come to Gotham once as Speedy and they blow me up." Thank fuck.

As much as he wanted to banter, there were more pressing matters and Tim needed answers, "Why was Speedy in Gotham?"

The silence was almost deafening, only Jay's breathing filled it, "Bat wanted help and asked Green Arrow," well damn, really? "Admittedly, the whole thing kept getting more suspicious. Bat was obsessed with Black Mask and Penguin meeting. I saw you two," Roy looked at Jay, "and I put two and two together, kind of... I didn't know they were gonna fucking bomb the place, man."

Tim held back the remarks he wanted to make as his anger simmered, "Bait. A fucking bait for media so Batman could swing in and save a boy that didn't need saving before Batman." Roy at least looked guilty as Tim spoke, anger spilling out like venom, "He put Jay in life threatening danger. On purpose." Jay had to have known something was amiss. He covered Tim and cushioned both him and Roy. Jay knew. His brother knew. Maybe not about the bomb, but about Batman showing up and his suspicions had only been confirmed when Speedy showed up. His breathing hitched.

Don't cry. Please don't cry.

The door screeched open again. Roy moved to shield Jay only to be shoved over like a kitten. Tim jolted forward but stopped himself. Right. Tim. He's Tim Drake-Way... Tim Drake right now. He's only Tim Drake. Not Robin. He felt helpless. Jay was at least thrown over the large man's shoulder and carried out of the room. The door shut. Tim wanted to scream. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

"Hey!" Roy was in front of him, when did he move? Tim looked up at him, "I need you to fucking breathe, dude, I can't get us all out alone." He hissed, panicked and worried. He was right. Honestly, "Thought the Drakes were masters of manipulation." He was Tim Drake. Not Robin. He was every bit of his mother's son, not what Batman made him, what Janet Drake made him. Maybe it's time for the Drake name to come back to Gotham.

Tim nodded, swallowing, his face was wet now, "Okay, yeah, you're right," Roy gave a victorious laugh, he was going to hold this over Tim's head, "we can't make any type of plan without Jay though. He needs to know too or we're not getting out less harmed." He kept his voice low, quiet, they could be listening, "Jay already knows." He added for good measure, watching shock spill over Roy's expression for a moment before it melted away.

Roy was thinking, he had that slight tilt to his head he always had when he was, "I'll tell him too. If you trust him, I do too. He'll need to know anyways." The fact that he needed to know worried Tim. What exactly did Roy have planned?

Tim nodded nonetheless, "Yeah, okay, though I think he could figure it out himself. He is my brother after all."

The atmosphere was light for a moment. Just a moment. Jay's scream ripped through the brief moment, tearing through every being of Tim. Then it was silent. Roy's face hardened.

Tim isn't sure how many of these guys were going to love after this.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Summary:

TW: Torture

Jay was alone. In a metal chair with text book torture tools beside him. Honestly, he was impressed at the collection and the vintage looking ones.

Wait.

Back up.

How did he get here?

He and Tim were having dinner on the cat walk, just pizza from the place across from his dad's lounge. The two always hung out up here when they were here, Jay had convinced his dad that he and Tim were in fact responsible enough to be up here, he had a slide show and everything. It worked. The entrance to the cat walk was well guarded and there was someone right under it too just in case. They were fine. Safe. Away from people. And his dad didn't have to deal with Tim and him absolutely destroying people at poker. They still did on occasion.

He felt him before he saw him. The cat walk barely vibrated under the tan pixie boot. His head snapped to the intruder. The guy was watching the two of them, crouched almost protectively. Jay could see Tim gesturing widely, annoyed, through the corner of his eye. The guy, Speedy (he hadn'tmet Speedy yet, but Tim talked about him enough like the rest of his team), his mind supplied, looked apologetic, Jay could see that he was apologizing, trying to explain himself, but Jay's attention was elsewhere. A blinking light. A light that shouldn't be there. Bright red above a comical countdown with only seconds to spare. Jay moved, his fingers finding kevlar and cotton. Then nothing.

Now he's here.

Alone. That's the worst part. His little brother wasn't here. Speedy wasn't here. Jay, Jason was. Light flooded into the dim room. A man walked in, then another with a familiar mask and gimmick, then a woman in a lab coat followed closely behind, shutting the door behind them. Black Mask stood in front of him. Talking, Jason guessed. Did this guy not know? Obviously he knew Jason had a connection to Oswald, but did he actually not know?

He didn't say anything. He waited. He watched the man's body language grow angry. Flashes of blue barely caught his eye for a second before his brain registered it. Fuck. He screamed, caught off guard as electricity flooded his body. It was short lived. The pain stopped, blue sparks off as his body twitched from the aftermath. He caught his breath, schooling his features.

He looked up, "Y-ou don't know..." it was almost laughable, "motherfucker, I can't fucking hear you," he spat at the ground, "I'm deaf."

The man was annoyed now, stomping his foot like a child, gesturing to the man that entered first. Great. Cool. Reading lips while being tortured. That'll work.

"Penguin has something planned in the big boss' turf," the lady grabbed Jason's hand, guiding a finger into a pair of pliers, "what is it?" She squeezed, jerking the pliers up. He felt the break, held back the scream, the whimper. He's Jason fucking Cobblepot. This is nothing.

He cleared his throat, "Supposed ta wait until I answer ta do tha', dumbass." Black Mask had the gall to laugh and sit in a pretty looking chair, "'Sides, even if there was something goin' on, old man ain't stupid enough ta lead it back ta him yet. Your information is bunk."

Jason didn't need to look at the big guy to know he repeated the question. The pliers moved and Jason steeled himself, "Nothin' goin' on in what's left of your turf."

Snap.

Big hands made him look up at the big guy. He slammed his foot into his knee, watching him fall. Mask stared at him. The lady smacked Jason across the face with the wrench. She helped the big guy up. Jason watched blood drip onto his arm from his temple. Another two people came in and his legs were tied to the legs of the chair. Mask leaned forward to watch Jason as they cleared out, leaving him and lady alone. The lady looked sickeningly sweet with a furious undertone. He does acknowledge that he might have made things worse for himself. Yes. However, that needed to be done.

"Where's your daddy hiding the shipment?" Ah. So it was her turn.

He looked past her at Black Mask, "Dad ain't got any new shipments."

She didn't try to redirect his face yet. She grabbed something Jason tried to ignore, classic. A body part to his dad. Something small enough to heal but big enough for a message. The knife dug into his pinky finger, pressing down just under the break, how thoughtful. Proof that he is in fact being tortured. Wow. Maybe they'll let him sign it too. He bit the inside of his cheek. She sawed. She didn't make it quick. Didn't want to. Jason hurt someone she liked. Or was obsessed with.

She ripped the rest of the finger off after the bone. A rush of clammy heat hit him from the burst of pain. He was pale. He knew that. But he kept his gaze steady.

"You think you've got the upper hand," he swallowed, watching Mask tilt his head, "you really don't know what you've just done."

Gotham won't be in one piece when he gets home.

Mask makes the woman stop the bleeding and bandage what they did. She complained. Jason was released from the chair. Carried like a sack of flour, then thrown into a room. He rolled onto his back just as the door shut. He counted. One. Two. Three. Four. His eyes adjusted and he sat up. Ah fuck. Tim was here. So was his friend. Why does that feel worse than being alone?

Tim and the ginger slammed into him, both leaning heavily on him. Jason let himself feel the relief of the weight and the lack of limbs crushing the breath out of him for a brief second. He shoved them both off.

Hands.

They needed their hands.

The rope was tricky. A broken finger and one missing, plus a throbbing headache. Speedy first, Tim could defend them if someone came in, but Speedy was still armored up at least. He moved to Tim after. He felt lightheaded. He had to stop for a minute, breathe through the rush. Tim sat still but Speedy looked just about ready to lunge over to him. Jason started again, loosening Tim's ropes.

"Lost your Robin Hood hat, Peter Pan." Tim laughed, his body shaking, Speedy blinked at Jason from behind the domino, a grin splitting his face.

"Those are two different stories."

With Tim's hands freed, Jason let himself sink against a wall. The laughter gone. They stared at him. He sighed, "Dad ain't done nothing with the docks." He watched betrayal and anger flood Speedy's face, "There's no shipment. No deals. Dad's guys are on vacation. Only one's working only work at the lounge." Tim's face is cold, "Black Mask has us. Thinks Dad's up ta something. Classic torture the son. Send a finger, maybe an ear next time." Tim kept staring at him, "I'm keeping their attention on me, fucking shut it, Timothy, you n Peter Pan need ta get out ta get me out." Tim's mouth snapped closed. Speedy looked grim, "I don't care how bad I look, Timmy, no. I don't. Won't lie. I'm in so much fuckin' pain right now, I want to cry, but those fucks want information that doesn't exist. You both will be pawns ta get it outta me. I need Robin ta come back n kick some ass. With Peter Pan."

Tim was thinking. Calculating. His shoulders dropped. Tears cut through the soot and grime on his face. Resignation. The only way he could see them all living and getting out. Tim had tried to see another angle. Tried. But couldn't.

"Fine. Fine! If you die here without me, I'm dragging you back from hell n killing you again." Tim hissed

He snorted, "Damn, condemned to hell by a gremlin."

Speedy had moved closer to them, sitting next to Tim, "He has to live, Timmy, I've decided he's stuck with me now." Now that. That sounded like torture.

Jason grinned, chuckling, "Woah, Peter Pan. Is that a proposal?"

Tim had stopped crying, Speedy removed the domino covering his eyes, "Roy Cobblepot does sound good." Blue eyes met his own. Whiplash. Emotional whiplash.

"Taking my last name too?"

"Harper-Cobblepot is a lot..." Tim joined in.

He needed that smile to stay there for now. He watched the two banter. He watched Roy put the domino back on. A plan was being made. Something stupid and reckless but the only thing they could do.

Jason sat up, the two stopped, when did he start holding court? "They expect an escape immediately. We need to wait. Play along. Weaken the fence. The doctor and the big guy have somethin' goin' on. None of these guys are from Gotham, they're different, but they don't know what they're dealing with."

Tim listened, gears turning, "We need someone to be careless. We need to get the door open first, a key or something to wedge into the lock. Then we need to find Speedy's bow and arrows and anything else they took of him."

Jason nodded, "I'll see what I can find. There's only one hallway. One way out. You two will have to fight your way out." Their room is at the very end of the hall, the room he had been in is in the middle it seems, "Weapons might be elsewhere though, Mask wouldn't put them where I could find em."

Speedy shifted, "If we get out of the room, I can fight while Tim finds my shit. There's enough padding for punches."

A loose plan, but a plan. The bones of it. This was going to be hell. They were going to suffer. But they needed to go about this carefully.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Summary:

Alright, I edited this.

Roy watched the man carefully. Tim clinging to Jason, Jason trying to hide his pain. He didn't know Jason personally, only what Tim had told him. Jason was hurt though and he didn't intend to tell Tim that he felt like falling apart. Roy knew it. He could see it. And Roy fucking hated it. Why grab Roy if they just wanted Jason? Why Tim? They were all out cold or barely able to move, they didn't need to grab Roy and Tim. It's more of a risk. A side kick and the son of a rich socialite.

Roy didn't sleep that night, he kept his eyes on the door the entire night, tensing at every footstep, every noise. It didn't help that Jason whimpered in pain in his sleep, he was bleeding through the bandages on his hand, there was purple poking through.

He felt useless.

Morning came with the door opening as the sun glared through their small window. Roy shifted, putting himself in front of Jason and Tim, Tim could handle it, he's trained to, but he's just Tim right now. Just a kid passed out from sobbing in his older brother's arms. Roy needed to be between them. He needed to protect them. Had to. He was older, possibly the eldest one there. Those two were his responsibility. The big guy stopped. He stared down at Roy before grabbing him by the arm, for a moment Roy thought he was going to be thrown at the wall, away. No. He was dragged out just as Tim woke up.

This had to be the room Jason was in, he could still smell the blood that permeated the air. Black Mask sat in front of him reading Gotham Times. Jason's and Tim's pictures stared at him from the front page. His wasn't there. He wasn't supposed to be there publicly, but he saw it, in big bold letters under the two pictures; Cobblepot Boys Missing, Speedy MIA, reporters would be having a field day with that. Like he said, no one was supposed to know he was there. Oliver wouldn't have told anyone he was there, neither would the Bat.

Black Mask folded the paper, setting it neatly on his ornate side table, "It wasn't too difficult, you know," the way his voice purred made Roy sick, "all I had to do was pay off some witnesses into saying Speedy was there. And had not been seen since." He sat back in his chair, "You may be wondering why. I honestly didn't intend on taking all three of you, but my new... employees made that decision for me."

Roy scoffed, "Must be hard for a control freak to lose control of his guys."

Mask let out a short chuckle, tilting his head as if he was deep in thought, "I'll admit, it was... frustrating, but I started thinking... Speedy is often seen with the Titans and the Justice League... Speedy could be used as a pawn to keep the rats away. One step out of line for them and Speedy suffers." He folded his hands, "You're probably thinking that the Justice League is smarter than me, maybe you're right, but all I have to do is offer your life for their cooperation."

"They won't go for it." Because why would they, yeah their's some good eggs, but most of em find Tim's Titans and sidekick frustrating.

"They will. A little blackmail here and there when we get that mask off of you."

His heart dropped. Yeah. The mask he easily removed the day before. The domino mask that kept shifting with every movement of his face. The glue was worn out by now, barely kept the thing on. He squirmed as the man stepped closer, thrashing his head. The mask hit the ground. A gloved hand slipped under his chin and lifted his face, his thumb caressed his chin making Roy's skin crawl.

"Oliver Queen's ward." Mask snorted, "Of course. All the fancy equipment had to be expensive." His thumb brushed against Roy's lips. His heart hammered into his rib cage. He's fucked. He's so fucked. He bit down and the hand wrenched itself away. He earned a foot to the gut for that, "Fucking bitch." The man growled.

"Tim Drake," he wheezed, "the fuck do you want with the kid?"

Mask stopped beside the door, still holding his hand to his chest. The man stared at him, contemplating, "Wayne has the money I need. The power I want. Unfortunately for you two, I need the boy unharmed. One step out of line again, brat, and your sweet little Jayjay suffers." The door slammed behind him, leaving Roy alone for a brief moment.

Roy was thrown back into the room. Jason had caught him. Had pulled him away from the door. They needed to leave. They needed to get out. Bread was shoved into his hands. He isn't sure how long they stayed like that in silence. He didn't count it. He was too busy trying to figure out how to get them both out faster. Eventually, their silence was interrupted and Jason was dragged out of the room. Tim tried to grab at him. It hurt to see the guy pounding on the door. Begging for Jason.

"We weren't part of Mask's plan." Tim looked over at him, tears streaming from his eyes, "His new friends decided to grab us. Jason is his target."

Tim sniffled, wiping his face with the dirty sleeve of Jason's jacket, "Why keep us?"

"To keep the JL away, for money... why else would they kidnap Wayne's ward. The Bat didn't think his plan through."

Tim leaned against the wall closest to the door. They both went quiet, trying to listen for Jay, they heard muffled voices, things being slammed or hit, but no screams. He foolishly hoped that maybe they were interrogating him, just questioning him. Tim held his breath at every footstep, looking at the door, watching the mechanism. The light streaming through their window darkened. The door slammed open. Jason's body hit the floor with a thud drowned out by the door slamming closed. He didn't move. He was breathing but he wouldn't move. He stopped Tim from moving any closer, Jason's eyes were open, foggy, but open, he wasn't there yet. He was there but not.

Roy felt useless.

"Jay..." Tim's voice was so small, shaking, he hadn't heard him speak like that before, "Jay, it's me... it's Tim..."

There's no telling him it was over. They were still here. They couldn't escape over night. He made himself sleep that night.

They counted days using the small window in their room. They didn't know how long they were out.

So far Roy had recorded fourty-six day cycles. Fourty-six days of Jay coming back pale and shaken up, injured, bleeding, bruised, on the brink of tears. Fourty-six days of planning carefully, going through every detail again. And again. And again. Fourty-six days of watching their Robin talk his way into big guy's good graces. Big guy was only there because his girlfriend made him. He was easy to manipulate, to gain sympathy, it didn't make Roy want to rip his head off any less. Big guy was breaking each time Jay's blood was left on him. He was doubting.

Tim needed a sacrifice for their plan and Roy couldn't find it in himself to feel bad.

Jay hadn't spoken yet, he was adjusting longer than usual. Roy held Tim's arm. Keeping him back. They tried to touch Jay last week, to bring him back, and he lashed out, slamming Tim into the concrete floor out of fear. It made things worse. Jay had a breakdown afterwords ending in the three curled into the furthest corner from the door with Jason sandwiched between them. Jay had told Tim not to touch him. Told Roy not to. Said they had to wait.

It was painful.

He watched life come back to those gorgeous eyes, "Fuck..." Jay doesn't scream if he knew what was coming Roy had learned. It was concerning. The aching silence when Jay left the room. The worry of him not coming back. He shifted, spitting blood onto the floor beside him, "Took my fuckin' tooth, Timmy..." Roy released Tim's arm, opting to scooch over to Jay on his knees rather than launch himself like Tim. He checked. Of course he did. He has been. He and Tim memorize every injury to return tenfold to Mask.

"Got a cute little tooth gap now, like those rugged bad boys on tv."

Jay looked amused, "Hear that, Timmy. Your friend thinks I'm cute."

Roy didn't deny it, though he did with Jay had less bruises and gashes. That he wasn't in pain.

Jay had to sit Tim across from him, the amusement gone, replaced with a serious look, Tim looked torn, Roy knew what was coming, "You two need to do it tomorrow. When they take me. Do not look for me. Fucking leave." Jay eyed them, "Watch each other's backs and kick ass for me. Preferably return ta Gotham before Ivy n Harley tear everything apart."

Roy knew his job. Get Tim and him out. Keep Tim safe. Get Tim's gear. Then storm the fuck out of this place with Tim's Titans. Tim's Titans. Because his bud Nightwing, despite being kind of forgiven, had fucked up. Roy and Tim couldn't trust them not to tell the Bat or the Justice League immediately.

Tim launched himself at Jay again, clinging to him, "This isn't goodbye, Timmy," Jay buried his face into tangled black hair, "it's see you later, okay? Not goodbye." Roy couldn't help it. He wrapped his arms around the two. Fourty-six days of waiting for the inevitable and unknown.

He buried his own face into the lighter ginger hair, into the white streaked ginger hair from torture and stress, "Damn, you two are gonna make me cry-" Jay's voice broke and Roy's heart shattered. Tim was sobbing, shoulders shaking, tears stung at the corners of Roy's eyes, "You two owe me a pizza, I ain't gonna die." His voice was wobbly, thick with emotion. Roy tightened his hold. Jason broke in his arms, silent sobs wracking his body, one hand gripping Roy's forearm. Jay whimpered, arm wrapping tighter around Tim, "Fuck."

Roy stayed like that, even as their weight was completely against him when they finally passed out. Jay had burns today. He could see the edges poking out of the sloppy bandages. His thumb lightly grazed the yellowing fabric, because they'd bandage him but reuse old ones, if torture doesn't kill him, infection will. They would need to move fast after returning to Gotham. Tim wanted blood as much as Roy did at this point. Roy wanted to hear the woman beg for mercy. He wanted to destroy Black Mask. To burn his empire to the ground and drown the ashes. They will. Roy promised Tim they'd do it.

Jay shifted, curling more around Tim in his sleep, he looked peaceful. Roy wiped a stray tear away, he didn't like leaving him here, he and Tim ran the numbers though. They had to. He let his head fall back against the wall, closing his eyes to forced the sleep. Sleep deprived wouldn't keep Timmy safe.

Day fourty-seven came around with the sun and with Jay shifting to wake him up. Tim was awake, solemn, resigned, a burning determination underneath. Jay had that calm look on his face that Roy found he hated. They sat in silence next to each other. Jay watched the door open like he had every morning. Tim and Roy watched him get dragged out, Roy holding Tim's arm like he had every morning to keep him from doing something he'd regret more than what they were about to do. The door shut. Foot steps faded, not waiting for the lock to engage. It didn't. He and Tim had been wedging pieces of chipped concrete and lead, he should test them for lead poisoning when they get back, into the mechanism from inside.

He stood, rolling the barely healed wrist, Jay had pocketed metal rods two weeks in to use as splints, Tim following him. They needed to move now. Tim was counting. One. Two. Three. There's a distant click of where they hold Jay. Four. Five. No more footsteps or voices. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Roy pushed the door open. Ten. They snuck down the long hall, his heart slamming in his chest as suspense grew. Roy made Tim pass the door with the voices. They needed to.do this right. The end of the hall led to a big open room with two large doors next to a desk and another smaller door behind it. He counted seven guys. Seven people with weapons. Seven with guns, bullets, knives. The closest one to them being the big guy. The big guy knew they were there. Roy could tell. He shifted slightly closer, shielding Roy and Tim from the line of sight. A gun, a pistol in his back pocket, a box of bullets in the other. It would work. Had to.

This guy was willing to die for them.

Roy grabbed the gun, the bullets, pressing his back against the the wall as he loaded them into it. He shoved Tim flat against it, pressing him to his side. He took a breath. Then another. Big guy tensed. He knew what was coming. Roy moved behind him, using him as a shield. The first shot was loud. Hitting the woman at the desk in the head. All hell broke lose. Tim ran and Roy aimed, big guy took the hits despite wearing a bullet proof vest. Red puddle at Roy's feet. Tim threw the small door open and dove in. The last bullet hit it's mark. Big guy fell, dead before he hit the ground. Lucky. Roy had expected more. But Black Mask hadn't expected them to leave in the middle of nowhere. He searched the desk, finding vehicle keys. He grabbed a handful as Tim ran out. He had been grazed. Just grazed.

Roy let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He adjust the strap to his quiver around him, tightening it, he lost muscle mass and weight, Tim looked smaller than before. Tim had found coats, more ammunition, another gun. He threw his bow over his shoulder and they ran before Black Mask opened Jay's door. The trucks weren't hard to find. Each numbered to match the key number. They picked one closest to the road. Roy pressed the pedal down.

They left a warning.

A promise to come back.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 8 of Dad Penguin AU