Chapter 1: Captivity

His muscles were slow and stiff. He didn't remember being drugged, but he sure as hell recognized the side effects. He tested his ligaments in a regular fashion. His hands were cuffed behind him... He screwed his eyes shut before opening them cautiously. The room was white walled and padded with no remarkable features besides the reinforced steel door and the solid twelve-by-twelve steel slot next to it. Fluorescent light streamed down from dual bulbs far above his head, though they flickered from time to time leaving the room's shadows far longer than they should be. Jason glanced around with bleary eyes, struggling to keep his weary mind from wandering. He heard a groan to his right and turned, blinking rapidly, to see Dick Grayson slumped against the wall.

and beside him – oh shit –Tim, and Damian. His 'brothers' for all intents and purposes.

Jason tested the strength of his restraints, noting that there was very little give in the chains as his eyes settled on each of the boys. There was dried blood caked to the side of Tim's forehead and Jason winced at what would be a painful headache when the boy awoke. Damian sat to Jason's immediate left, in between Jason and the wall. The youngest bat looked well enough, though his face seemed stuck in a devilish scowl that reminded Jason so much of Bruce that he had to look away – lest old memories take their place in his mind. Still, his critical eye was working.

None of them were wearing their nightly personas, which meant this was personal for whoever had taken them. It had to have something to do with Bruce – he was the only probable connection. Jason used his arms to maneuver himself closer to Dick before swinging the cuffs forward and under his legs so that he could reach out and tough the older man's shoulder and give him a good shake.

Jason's efforts proved fruitful when Dick let out a sputtering cough and opened his bright blue eyes. There was panic at first and Dick shot forward, almost headbutting Jason if the younger man had been a second slower in jumping back.

"glad you could join the world of the living, Dickie-bird," Jason said.

The man's eyes narrowed at the nickname, dumbly disoriented for a moment. Dick took a quick assessment of the situation, turning this way and that, testing his restraints much like Jason had done just moments ago. It was strange to see the Bat's teachings manifest so similarly. "How'd we get here, Little Wing?" Dick whispered, still glancing around warily.

Jason growled at the endearing term, but didn't respond. As if on cue Tim shot upwards and took in a huge gulp of air. "We were drugged," the boy said. He opened and closed his mouth like he was trying to dispel a load of cotton from within.

"Thanks for the astute observation, kid. I'm sure B would be proud," Jason sneered.

Jason winced sympathetically as the boy gingerly probed the wound on his forehead. "Ow," he murmured.

Just then Damian sat up and turned sleep-filled eyes on the three of them. The youngest boy looked around Jason to see Dick and Tim, who gasped when they saw the child. "You too, Baby Bat?"

"I detest that nickname. You will cease to use it immediately," Damian sneered.

Yep. Definitely Bruce's son. All precociousness and petty attitude issues to go.

Jason sighed heavily. This was just not his night.

"OK. Let's not panic here. What's the last thing you all remember?" Dick asked.

Tim was the first to respond, "Uh… I think I was on my way to the manor. My bike was flipped and…" He shook his head and gasped at the pain the action brought. "I felt this pinprick. That's all I can remember."

Damian grumbled something about Tim's incompetence before Dick's eyes slid to the youngest boy. "Father made me stay home…" They all caught the unspoken from patrol, "That's when I felt a dart hit my arm. Before I could adequately respond I was out. The sedative must have been strong."

Dick nodded. "I'd just left the Bludhaven Police Department when they hit me. Did any of you actually see our attacker?"

"Attackers, plural. I caught a glimpse. I'd just gotten home, they missed the first dart, but caught me in the neck afterwards. The shadows hid their features, but I know there was more than one." Jason said evenly. His hands rubbed at his neck absently where he'd felt the pinprick.

"And how do we know you aren't behind this, Todd?" Damian spat.

Jason merely shifted the chains around his wrists to make an audible sound with them, pointing out that he too was trapped. He made a face at the youngest boy, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out. If only just.

"Relax boys, I'm the one that brought you here." It was a voice coming in over a speaker hidden just from view above the hanging fluorescent lights. The sound resonated through the room, though the voice itself was full of static. "don't worry, you'll soon be released. Just as soon as your father antes up."

So, this was about money. Jason threw his head back and let out a dark chuckle. "You do realize that Bruce doesn't give a rat's ass about me, right? Right. You can just let me go and we'll just pretend this never happened."

The voice returned the laughter in kind, reminding Jason too much of another maniacal laugh. "Well, we will just see about that, won't we. Let's get Daddy on the phone, shall we? I'm sure that by now he's realized that his sons have all gone missing." Jason could practically hear the grin in the disjointed voice.

"What do you mean 'by now'?" Dick asked uncertainly, turning inquisitive eyes to Jason and then Tim.

"it's been a few days now, Dick Grayson." It paused, "Don't worry. I'll allow you all to hear our conversation."

A click sounded through the room. Suddenly a dial tone. Then a gruff, familiar voice answered on the second ring. "Who are you?" Bruce snapped clearly over the speaker.

"Now, now, Mr. Wayne, no need to get snippy. Your children are safe. All four of them."

"If you touch even a single hair-"

"Your empty threats will get you nowhere, Mr. Wayne, I assure you. Now if you don't mind, we should argue the terms of our –"

"how do I know they're even still alive." It was a statement. Jason caught the slight tremor to the tone, something like fear, only this was Bruce – and Bruce was never afraid of anything.

"Now you see Bruce – do you mind if I call you Bruce? – your interruptions are starting to get on my nerves." There was a pause, "Maybe I'll just shoot the little one to show you I'm serious."

The metal slot on the wall next to the door opened and a gun was brought through, aimed at Damian. Dick was the first to speak up; he roared in rage and pulled at his restraints. Tim, ever the analyst, remained silent but began to pick at his chains furiously in an attempt at escape, while Damian loosed a string of curses in both Arabic and English. Jason was quiet. He was the marksman of the family, had made a living as a sniper and gun-toting vigilante. He knew all about trajectory and what type of gun was pointed toward the boy – a pistol, approximately six rounds. He watched the gun set its sights on the boy, four inches from the boy's heart, half and inch from the diaphragm. It would be a kill shot at this range with how small the boy was, without the protection of his armor.

The kid, for all his frustratingly arrogant remarks, was still a child. Innocent. Jason looked at Dick and Tim in turn. They were too far away to be of any use. It had to be him.

That was why when the trigger was pulled, when Bruce could be heard screaming "NO!", and when Damian found himself unable to move, Jason twisted to the side and took the bullet in the chest.

In all honesty, he'd expected it to be painful – especially without Kevlar – but what he hadn't exactly planned for was the blood that filled his mouth. It was agony, choking on gelatinous fluid. He coughed, trying to clear the air way, to little avail, more blood just pumped upward to take its place. The breathless nature of the event reminded him of being in his grave. Of knowing the air was there, just out of reach, just past six feet of dirt and bugs and... He let out a strangled cry that did not sound like his voice. His 'brothers' were shell-shocked. Bruce was silent. The voice wasn't.

"Oops, looks like little 'Jaybird' took the bullet instead. Maybe that's why you're so quiet." The voice laughed, but Jason was already starting to lose consciousness. Everything was growing fuzzy, and the taste of blood made him nauseated. His body betrayed him, going into painful spasms. Strong arms pulled him up, holding him tightly, and Jason barely registered that Dick's royal blue eyes were staring helplessly into his own turquoise ones. Dick was saying something, barking orders, and Jason felt pressure being applied to the wound.

"JASON! I swear to God, if he dies there will be nothing on Heaven or Earth to save your worthless-" The voice was full of inhuman rage and contempt. Jason shivered, coughing up the substance he couldn't seem to breathe around.

"Looks like I nicked his lung. Hear that, Bruce? That's the sound of your son choking on his own blood. You've got maybe a few hours before he bleeds out. I had better receive eighty million before that happens, or I'll shoot another one. Don't worry, I'll transmit the location to you." The noise abruptly cut off and the room was plunged into silence.