A/N: Hellooooo, back for my yearly update. Kidding... *pained smile as I try to make a joke but it hits too close to home*

If any of you follow my other story The Awakening, don't worry, I'mma update that one soon too. Haha I'm the worst. But Season 3 part 2 is here so yay!

As always, please drop a review :)

There was another gasp, this one sounding pained, as Dick hit the floor, his prosthetic leg twisted unnaturally underneath him.

"Consider that your warning, Wayne," the leader hissed, stepping away from where Dick lay, struggling to get up. "Next time it will be his real leg."

The video feed cut out and Bruce was left staring at a black screen, fists clenching in barely-contained rage at his side.

"This is all they sent?"

Commissioner Gordon nodded, brows furrowed, and mouth set in a harsh line. "There was a note attached, with the ransom amount written. I have forensics analyzing the handwriting now, on the chance that it might be recognized. But…."

"What about the man holding Grayson?" Damian stepped towards the blank screen, as if hoping it held the answer to his question. "There was enough of his body on screen that someone could recognize him."

"We have our best detectives on the case now – you are right, Damian, it was an amateur mistake to reveal so much of his body, especially dressed as nicely as he was."

"If it was so amateur, why haven't your men made any progress?" The younger Wayne snapped. "This was sent hours ago."

"We're doing the best we can." The older man heaved a sigh and let his back come to rest against the desk behind him, shuffling the placard with his name to the side. "The leader is likely an affiliate with Gotham Academy – possibly even a parent or teacher. I assure you I have my best men in the field tracking him down now."

Damian narrowed his eyes at Gordon. "Perhaps they are not trying hard enough then."

"Damian!" Bruce warned, eyes flashing a warning.

The younger man ignored Bruce. "My brothers are trapped somewhere with a man who has so far shown that he is not below hurting them to get what he wants – and who evidently knows details about them that are not publicly available, meaning this attack is premeditated and –"

"Damian please, give me a little faith…."

"No Commissioner, I will not give faith where it is not deserved. Drake has never been kidnapped in his life and is likely on the verge of a mental breakdown, Todd is emotionally unstable at the best of times, and Grayson invites trouble and just suffered a blow to his already defective physical abilities."

"Commissioner," Bruce cut in. "What's the task-force looking for the boys now?"

Beginning to look flustered, Gordon shifted his weight uneasily. "My two top detectives are out there now, and they have the special ops force on standby if need be…."

"Two detectives is all you have looking?!" Damian took a step towards the cop.

"Three of my children are missing," the older Wayne hissed, moving forward to cut Damian off again. "And you only have two detectives making any effort to find them, after we received a threatening ransom video likely holding crucial evidence to their location."

"I am in the process of evaluating the video now…."

"I have always put my faith in the GCPD," Bruce continued, shaking his head. "But this is not the kind of effort I have come to expect of this institution."

"Mr. Wayne, you know I can't pull too much of the force away for this, not with the gang war growing on the south side…."

Damian sneered. "What do you think it would be like, Gordon, if the public were to find out that Bruce Wayne's sons were being held ransom and threatened and tortured – especially Grayson, vulnerable as he is…."

"Gordon, my crippled son is being exploited by an alleged parent of another Academy student. He was just stripped of his only line of defense – his ability to move unaided. I expect every effort being made to find him and his brothers. Immediately."

oOo

The pale man moved forward now as the leader and the cameraman started drifting away. He grabbed Dick's arm and bodily dragged him across the floor and back into the small cell-like room, and then tossed him carelessly to floor at Jason's feet.

"Don't bother tying him up," the leader called as he walked away. "He won't be much trouble anymore."

The door was slammed shut and the boys were alone again.

Jason immediately dropped to a crouch next to his brother as Tim shuffled over as well.

"Ah Dickiebird," he muttered, cuffed hands reaching out to try to help the boy.

"I'm okay, Jay," Dick responded, letting the older boy help him sit up. "Can't actually feel anything in my leg so it doesn't hurt." He looked down at his prosthetic leg, twisted at an angle under his pants, a sharp piece of metal poking up at the knee. "I think it's busted though…. Can you help me stand?"

Jason rose, bringing Dick up with him. Tim watched, awkwardly clambering to his feet as well. Once they were standing, Dick reached down and tried to straighten out his prosthetic leg, fully leaning into Jason and trusting the older boy to keep him upright. The leg refused to cooperate, however, and as soon as Dick tried to put weight on it, he pitched forward and would have crashed to the floor if Jason hadn't caught him around the chest.

"Looks pretty busted," Jason muttered, slowly lowering himself and Dick back to the floor.

"Are you sure it doesn't hurt?" Tim spoke up, his voice unusually soft and high-pitched.

"My leg's not real, Timmy," Dick reassured, patting the ground next him to indicate the younger boy should join him. "I can't feel a thing."

"It's his own fault anyway," Jason added, giving Dick a glare full of anger that hid concern. "Idiot tried to play hero."

"I'm the only one not tied up!" Dick shot back, giving Jason a glare in return. "I wasn't just about to sit here and watch them throw you both around!"

"No, instead we had to watch them throw you around."

"Like you wouldn't have done the same thing!"

"Of course I would have, but I would have actually made it out and not faceplanted into Evil-dad's outstretched arms."

"Sorry I'm not as abled as you are." There was venom in Dick's voice and his stare was icy.

"That's not what I meant!" Jason hissed, mentally berating himself. "I was implying I'm a whole hell of a lot bigger than your scrawny ass."

"I have a great ass!"

"You're damaging your little brother's virgin ears, Dick."

"You said it first!"

"Hey, uh, guys…."

"I am not playing that game with you right now, short stack."

"I'm not that small! You're just three years older than me."

"D-dick?"

"You're smaller than Tim."

"Am not."

"Jason?"

"I know he wears your clothes."

"He steals my clothes."

"Dick!" The high-pitched squeak coupled with the sudden sharp tug on Dick's empty jacket sleeve caught both boy's attention.

"What's up, Tim?" All traces of anger in Dick's voice were gone as he turned his attention to his little brother.

"Can we please not fight?" Tim's face was pale, his eyes much too wide in his head.

Sighing, Dick reluctantly turned away from Jason and softened his gaze. "Of course…. It's not going to get us anywhere anyways."

"Nothing's gonna get us anywhere unless we can pick that lock on the door," Jason cut in. "And then fight our way past whoever creepy-dad has standing guard over us…. But," the eldest boy continued, after a pointed glare of Dick. "I'm sure Bruce or Batman – or both – are on their way right now…."

And so time passed slowly. Dick spent some time trying to pick his brothers' handcuffs with a small metal shard Jason had snapped off his busted prosthetic, but only succeeded in cutting his hand on a sharp edge. It took a lot of convincing to get Jason to give him the piece back in order that he could try the lock on the door, but a loud series of bangs and shouts from outside accompanying his first attempt was enough to still all three boys' escape attempts.

So they waited, as the singular window in the corner, high above the floor, told of a setting sun as its musty light grew dim. Conversation was small and half-hearted. Dick attempted to speak every so often and keep up some semblance of conversation for Tim's sake, but even the youngest boy soon grew tired of engaging in meaningless chatter. Complaints of being hungry and thirsty and needing to use the bathroom soon dominated the small cycle of topics brought up and Jason took to intermittently yelling threats at the door.

And then, the door shuttered open.

All three boys jerked to attention as their captor strolled in, his face twisted in a grimace as he let his gaze travel to each boy in turn.

"Daddy has gone radio silent it seems," he sneered, and the tall, pale man slowly crept up behind him. "Hasn't agreed to our ransom demand – in fact, he hasn't answered any of our calls. Very rude of him."

"Bruce doesn't negotiate with kidnappers," Jason snapped back, slowly rising from his huddled position against the wall.

"Calm down, Todd," the older man warned. "You know what happened to your brother when he tested my patience."

"You'll find me a bit more nasty to deal with than my brother," Jason snarled.

"Hmm." The leader looked nonplussed and merely nodded to the pale man behind him. Before either Dick or Jason could react, the man had slipped across the room and seized Tim's bound arms and was dragging the youngest boy back towards the door.

"AH!"

"Let him go!" "Put him down you sonofabitch!"

Both Jason and Dick started screaming at the same time, Jason hurtling forward at the man while Dick watched helpless from the floor, fruitlessly trying to rise on his one functioning leg.

"Make any move and I'll slice his femoral artery!" The leader thundered, and the pale man withdrew a long knife from a sheath on his belt.

The older boys froze as Tim squeaked in fear, pointed face visibly paling and eyes growing impossibly wide.

"If you dare touch him I'll -"

"You'll what, Grayson? Collapse on me?" The man sneered, nodding to his accomplice who began backing out of the small cell-room with Tim. "You couldn't do anything if you tried. You're helpless to help your brother – a pathetic excuse for a human, really. I always wondered why Wayne took you in. Let's see if he'll pay a little more attention to his whole child instead."

The door closed again. Jason's face was red with anger, his fists clenched in their bonds. Dick collapsed back to the floor again, the man's final words having taken the adrenaline from his blood.

In a moment, Jason crossed the room and delivered a roundhouse kick to the door, a harsh yell escaping his lips. "You bastards!"

His breathing remained heavy for a moment before he turned back to his younger brother, the high color slowly fading from his cheeks as he took in the dejected sight of the boy.

"Dick, what they said-"

"Don't." Dick's gaze was trained on the ground and didn't move at Jason's voice. "Just… don't. I don't want to talk about it." He took a shaky breath, eyes squeezing shut before he finally looked up. "They took Tim. They're probably going to torture him. Because I wasn't enough…."

Jason dropped down to sit beside the younger boy. "That's not true, Dickie. You know Bruce doesn't negotiate with people like them. He's just taking a bit longer to find us is all. Probably can't figure out how to sneak away to go be you-know-who."

"Tim's gotta be so scared."

"Bruce'll be here soon-"

"I remember my first time being kidnapped, Jay." The utter seriousness in Dick's tone caused Jason to quickly shut his mouth. "I remember the video calls with Bruce, the 'incentives' they kept providing him. I was scared, but it was only a couple of teenagers who recognized me from juvie and figured they could make some quick money. They didn't really know what they were doing. This guy knows, Jay, he knows. He's gonna hurt Timmy and Timmy hasn't even been Robin yet. He doesn't know what people can do; he doesn't know what to expect. He's gonna be so scared…."

Dick's breathing increased in pace. His eyes were wide and his face was quickly draining of color. Jason put a hand on the boy's shoulder and nearly flinched at the violent tremors that ran through the small frame.

"You gotta calm down Dick. It's gonna be okay, just breathe. Please breathe, kiddo, please." Jason didn't know if he could handle a panic attack from Dick, with his own nerves as frazzled as they were.

The younger boy managed to slow his breathing, but his face was still too pale and he still shook as he leaned into Jason's touch.

"I can't do anything, Jay. Even if I were out there, I wouldn't be able to do anything."

So the man's words had stung Dick as deeply as Jason had feared.

"Right now, neither of us can do anything…."

There was silence for a moment, and then a loud crash. Both boys jerked, instincts kicking in as their bodies tensed to fight. More silence followed, and then the door to the cell broke down and Batman stood in the light from outside, looking curiously younger and rather disgruntled.

"Where's the third?" Batman growled.

"They just took him away." Jason pointed outside. "Hurry."

In a whoosh of cape, the man was gone.

"Was that…?" Dick looked questioningly to his older brother. Jason merely raised an eyebrow.

In less than a minute, police sirens could be heard outside. Handcuffed, Jason was unable to help Dick and so both boys were forced to sit and wait until figures again appeared at the doorway to the cell. Two officers found them first, but were quickly shoved aside by a rather harried-looking, angry Bruce Wayne.

"Bruce!" Dick struggled to get to his feet, his barely subdued panic beginning to ebb at the sight of his guardian. An uncontrollable urge to reach the man overtook him and he was grateful for Jason's strong arm latching onto his own and pulling him to his feet. Not waiting for his brother's assistance, Dick stumbled forward and managed to take two faltering steps before collapsing on his broken prosthetic. Bruce was crouched, catching the boy before he hit the ground.

A single shaking arm wrapped itself around the billionaire's neck.

"Are you alright?" Bruce murmured, one arm holding the boy while the other searched for injuries. A pointed look told Jason the question was meant for the both of them.

"We're fine," the older boy sighed, allowing one of the officers to begin working on unlocking the handcuffs from his wrist. "My head's killing me and Dick's a little broken, but-"

"Tim!" Dick yelped, struggling to pull away from Bruce's hold.

"Batman found him," Bruce assured. "He's okay."

"I have to see him."

Bruce nodded. "Of course."

oOo

Thirty minutes later and all three boys were being examined by medics while Bruce looked all the world like a concerned parent, hovering obtrusively on the sidelines. Damian had shown up twenty minutes after Batman, having – supposedly – been back home at the manor with Alfred.

Tim escaped only lightly scathed. A few bruises decorated his arms and side where he'd been hit with a heavy stick, but Batman had shown up before any serious damage could be done. Jason was diagnosed with a mild concussion and Dick sat in a wheelchair watching as the paramedics finished checking his younger brother for injuries.

"Those bruises will be pretty sore for a while now," a young woman informed Tim, handing him an ice pack. "I would ice them as much as you can to reduce the swelling and take it easy for a few days."

"You were lucky kid," an older paramedic chimed in. "Lucky Batman got here when he did."

Tim cracked a halfhearted smile before cautiously sliding off the back of the ambulance he'd been perched on. "Yeah…."

Dick struggled to move forward towards his brother, the chair not responding well to only his one arm. Tim seemed to realize this and crossed the distance between the two. He blinked at Dick for a moment, as if calculating his brother's current condition, before launching himself forward into a hug. The wheelchair would have careened backwards if Jason hadn't been there to catch it.

"Is this what it's always like?" Tim asked, voice small and timid, muffled in Dick's chest. "You know… getting kidnapped."

Dick thought for a moment, struggling between honesty and trying to make the boy feel better. Jason butted in before he could make up his mind.

"Nah, it's usually a lot cooler than this. More elaborate plans, better ransom demands, creepier goons. You know, more like the movies."

Tim cracked another small smile as he extricated himself from Dick's lap to look at Jason.

"If that is quite all," a strong, British voice announced. "I say we all head home for some hot chocolate and an early night."

"Yes, very good Alfred." Bruce swooped in and put a hand on Tim's back, guiding him towards the car the butler had just brought to the front of the conglomerate of police and emergency vehicles.

Jason's hands easily found the wheelchair's handles and he start pushing his younger brother after the group.

"I hate this thing," the younger boy muttered, glaring at the empty air below his left thigh where his broken prosthetic had been removed from.

"Your other one's at home."

"I don't like that one either."

"At least you can move yourself in that one and I don't have to push your fat ass."

"Dick has a great ass, Jason!" Tim's voice piped up from behind Bruce's bulk and Jason froze.

"Look what you've done," he hissed at Dick.

Dick cackled. "He likes me best."