Archive of Our Own ^beta

Queen Bee:

Dick had pissed off Queen Bee a million times before. Between his multiple identities, he’d been in her Kingdom several times, often while thwarting her evil deeds. It was no surprise to him that when she had to come to the NYC White Collar office, she recognized him. 

“Neal” was hiding behind Lauren while Queen Bee screamed at him and threatened him with dire fates. Several of the agents were facing them and gearing up for an attack, susceptible to her type of control. 

“Queen Bee, you are not allowed to use your powers in our office or against our agents,” Agent Cruze began, because telling her that was totally gonna work.  

“Then give me that slimy little thief and I will leave here with no issues.” Her face was twisted into a cruel farce of a smile. Dick put on his best ‘who me’ look and held his hands up in an innocent pose. He opened his mouth to protest her accusations. 

“Neal, unless you are going to say something like, ‘Oh, I’m sorry; you must be mistaken; I have never been in your kingdom at all,’ then you best keep your mouth shut," Lauren hissed as she leaned back and stomped on his foot. Neal closed his mouth and continued to duck behind her as the Queen ranted at him. 

Dick always did like undercover work; it was a throwback to his performance days under the big top. But if he did it right, no one actually knew that he was putting on a show. He, like all the bats, had crafted several IDs to use, some for intel, a few for infiltration, and others for retrieval.  Neal Caffrey had wound up being one of his best works. He started as a simple retrieval specialist and then morphed into something greater and more versatile.  

But before he could become an invaluable asset, Neal had to be born, had to exist in flesh and blood, had to live in the minds of people and not just be a name on a paper.

Dick pulled out a couple of freshly made IDs and took a job in Europe that would put his name on the map. Well, not Dick's name, Neal's. He played it cool, drifting his way through European cities without a care in the world. If all of his travels brought him closer and closer to Bialya, well, that was just a coincidence, right?  

Neal wandered into the country and meandered his way towards the palace. His target was kept in the palace proper, in one of the most difficult places for anyone to access: Queen Bee’s chambers.

He knew this was a tricky operation and that there was a high likelihood that he’d be caught. With her powers of control, it could be disastrous, but he had faith that his skills were good enough to keep his secrets. 

He walked into the palace early in the morning, timing it so that he was coming in with the earliest workers.  He went with the largest group of them to the kitchens. Then he picked up a tray of breakfast and made his way upstairs to the Queen’s private rooms. He quickly charmed his way into the room and served Bee her food. 

She arched an eyebrow at him. 

“What made you think that you could poison me like this?” she asked. 

“I don’t want to poison you, I just wanted to meet you, Your Highness.” He bowed with a sure smile on his face. “The world has heard of your beauty and how enchanting you are, My Lady. I have come to offer you my services.” 

“You and every other man around. I have no need for another consort.” She scoffed at him.  

“Alas, that breaks my heart, but those were not the services I had in mind. It would be a shame to let your beauty fade from the world. I was hoping you would consent to allow me to immortalize your face in a painting.” He appealed to her vanity. 

“Why should I let you paint me?” She inquired.  

“Because I'm the best,” he boasted. 

That was how he got access to the inner rooms in the palace. For two weeks, he came to her chambers every day and painted. When he was finished, she had a masterpiece and he had all the information he could get on her part in the Light’s plans. For his big finish, and to really sell the Neal Caffrey thief extraordinaire persona he’d made, he took off with three paintings and a small statuette. 

Fortunately, Queen Bee had only recognized him as Neal when she came into the office. He had opposed her countless times as Robin and Nightwing. He even met her as Dick Grayson at quite a few events he had attended over the years, which meant that while he was in trouble, he wasn't in any danger of blowing his cover, he hoped. 

It took twenty agents an hour and a half to finally overpower her enough to get her out of the office. The agents she had controlled were in the conference room until they all came out of their daze. Diana, Jones, and Peter were some of the last ones in the room, having been some of the first she'd pulled into her Hive control.

Neal slipped into the conference room with their favorite coffee orders from their favorite little shop around the corner.

"Hey, guys, how are you feeling?" he asked as he passed out drinks and sandwiches. "Drink up. The caffeine helps the hangover effect."

"How can you stand to look at us?" Diana asked. "We just spent an hour trying to kill you."

"No, Queen Bee just spent an hour trying to kill me. Besides, if I got mad at everyone who tried to kill me… Well I wouldn't have any friends left."

"Wait, what?" Peter looked aghast. "You've had that happen more than once?" 

"Oh, yeah. Let me tell you something: it's always fun when you have to start running from your friends who are all top athletes and you know that if they catch you, you're going to wind up with at least one broken bone…" Dick started into a heavily-abridged version of one of the tamer team missions-one where they had fallen prey to Psimon’s mind control-making sure that he distracted them from the shame that always seemed to come when you lost control of yourself like that.

Amy Rohrbach:

Neal was excited today. Dick, however, was not.

You see, if he could just be a normal human being for once, then everything would be great. But, no, somehow he’d managed to be cursed with awful luck. His department was having a member of the Blüdhaven Police Department drop by, and that would be perfectly okay-great, even-if Dick wasn’t a former member of said police department, undercover in the White Collar office of the FBI. Even that would be ok if he were actually here for the department; they would know not to jeopardize his cover, but, no, he’s here at the behest of the Justice League. There were so many ways today could go wrong.  

He wasn’t even sure who was coming. If they were new, great. They wouldn’t even know him. If they were one of the few corrupt cops that survived the purge, then they would delight in ruining this op for him. Even if they weren’t one of those, the few friends he’d made might almost be worse for his cover, but none of that mattered-that was a Dick Grayson problem and Neal Caffrey had no problem with the BPD because he had never been to Blüdhaven. Neal did up his tie in a Prince Albert knot today; he liked the little fold that peeked out the bottom, not only was it fashionable, and Neal Caffrey loved to be fashionable, but because it reminded him that he was merely hiding behind this façade. Plus, he had good memories of Bruce blundering attempts and then Alfred actually teaching him how to do up his tie ‘like a gentleman.’ Neal Caffrey put the finishing touches on his outfit, flipped his hat on, and headed out the door to wait for Peter.

Neal went through the day making sure that he was the same as he always was. One of the biggest reasons undercover missions failed was because of the agent’s own mistakes. Dick had planned out options for almost all of his former BPD coworkers and then promptly ‘forgot’ about it. Neal didn’t have any reason to worry or be nervous, so Dick viciously squashed those reactions so tight that no one could tell.

Neal heard the elevator ding. He counted to five carefully, shading the ears on one of his doodles, and then he allowed his eyes to trail up from the page. Dick mentally started cursing in all 15 languages he knew. Of all the people to come, this was going to be the hardest to play off. There in all her glory stood Amy Rohrbach, his former partner. He hadn’t even seriously entertained the idea that she would come because she was the current police chief of the BPD. Good thing he was a paranoid bat and still planned for this. Neal tapped his pen on the desk, apparently thinking of what he should draw next. Taapp… Tap. Taapp… Taapp… Taapp… the irregular rhythm drew an annoyed look from Diana. Amy had to pass his desk on her way to greet Peter. Neal kept taping his pen in the same odd absent-minded rhythm, seemingly engrossed in drawing a comic of Nightwing with cat ears.

Amy passed by his desk, giving him a quick glance, before heading to Diana's desk.

"I'm here to meet with Agent Burke about the Balinski case," she said. “My name is Amy Rohrbach, Blüdhaven Chief of Police.”

“Diana Berrigan.” Diana stood and greeted her. 

“How did we rate the Chief of Police coming all this way to work on the case with us?” Diana asked before she started guiding Amy up the stairs to the conference room. 

"I'll show you to his office," she offered.

The two of them spoke briefly with Peter before they headed into the conference room. Peter called down to Jones and Neal to join them for the briefing.

Dick was nervous. He thought she got his message but he would find out in a few minutes. 

Neal put on his confident grin and followed Jones up to the others. Neal opened the door and took a quick glance around the room. Old habits die hard. At least Peter and the rest of the team thought the automatic search for escape routes was a thief thing and not the vigilante habits he'd developed from a young age.

"This is the rest of my team, Clinton Jones and Neal Caffrey. I figured it would be easier to go over the information just once." 

"Nice to meet you," Dick said as shook hands with his former partner. "I'm Neal, the not-quite-as-handsome one over there is called Jones." 

Amy took it in stride, diving right into the case and not saying anything to let anyone know they had met before. She had learned long ago to take her cues from Dick; she didn't want to interrupt any of his Nightwing operations. She may not approve of his moonlighting but she still knew how to back him up. What else were partners for but to have each other's backs? 

Alien Invasion:

Aliens were attacking New York, again. The sky had opened up with several massive portals letting out a stream of warriors to subdue the human race.

Dick had been stuck in the FBI office when the reports started coming in. The whole office gathered in one of the conference rooms to watch the end of things. The tension was palpable, a thick rotten thing pressing in on everyone. The T.V.s were tuned into whichever of the news channels were still playing. It wasn’t very long before the agents started to talk about going out and helping evacuate the city or even fight the monsters themselves.

He watched as the agents organized themselves and outfitted the most athletic and field-experienced agents with weapons, comms, and bulletproof vests. Jones joined in with those agents and took a team outside, guiding people into safe zones and helping to mitigate the panic. Diana was operating comms in their impromptu command center, filtering the information IT was able to hack into useful information for the various teams that had gone out. Peter was in his element, giving orders and focusing the agents into teams. The agents he tasked with groups that would go out like Jones and protect anyone they could, while the office workers he corralled to guide and support the lost and frightened people that they were taking in. Hughes was attempting to contact the ORACLE network to find out how the FBI could best help the heroes protect the earth.

Dick was proud of his friends who were willing to help and fight against the odds. He had never really spared much thought to what civilians did during an apocalypse, only paying enough attention to them to make sure there were as few casualties as possible. Despite all the good the agents were doing, Dick knew he’d still be more useful in his other uniform.

While his team was all busy with other things, he slipped out of the office unnoticed. He walked quickly to the stairwell and started to climb. When he came to the top floor, he looked around, making sure he was alone and still in the cameras’ blind spots. He moved the ceiling tiles, grabbing his emergency gear bag he’d hidden up here the first week of work. With practiced efficiency, he stripped out of his Neal Caffrey suit and put on the familiar black and blue armored spandex. He stuffed his discarded clothes back in the bag and rehid it in the ceiling.

Then he went out onto the roof, thumbing on his comm as he stood on the building’s edge, trying to get a feel for where he was needed.

“O, this is N. Where do you want me?”

“So many ways I could answer that, Boy Wonder, but right now I need you to head up to 22nd St. We could use your particular skills there.”

“On it,” he said with a grin. He took one more deep breath as he launched himself off the side of the building, enjoying the fall before shooting out his grapple line to get him into the thick of the action. His familiar cackle sounded out over the city, unheard over the cacophony of battle. Dick lost himself in the familiar ebb and flow of fighting, moving to protect the citizens of Earth. His body took over and all his other concerns and worries just floated away.

He had been fighting for perhaps an hour when one of the terrifying aliens slammed into him, sending him crashing back into a building. He slid down the side a foot and slumped there in a daze for a moment.

Dick blinked his eyes open to a tap on his cheek and a very familiar voice.

“Mr. Nightwing, are you okay?” Jones was standing in front of him in full tactical gear, covered in building dust and looking at him, concerned.

Dick shook his head and blinked a few more times. The whole world spun and twisted. Ughh, he hated concussions.

Dick tried to stand up and fell to one side, stumbling into Jones with a groan. Dick tried to take a step forward and failed, leaning hard into the other man, unable to move correctly. He let out another groan and shut his eyes, unable to stand the spinning images anymore.

“Con’ssion. No good, O,” Dick slurred into his comm. Dick flinched violently when Oracle tried to talk to him over the comm. The sound of her voice echoing in his ear was instant torture to his scrambled head. He swiped at his ear, pulling the comm out, desperate to make the noise stop. Once he got the offending item out of his ear, he leaned to one side and threw up.

“Are you okay?” Jones tried again, glancing around and making sure the two of them were still safe right now.

“No,” Dick said. He would never have done this if he didn’t trust Jones so much. “Tell O, need out.” He pressed the comm into Jones’ hand. Dick felt shame pooling in his stomach… or maybe that was still just the concussion, but he hated being a liability. He was supposed to be a hero. He was stronger than this, damn it. Tears started to leak out of the edges of his mask.

Jones stared at the comm for a moment before he stuck it in his ear.

“...respond. Wing, where are you? Nightwing, come in.” The voice in his ear was calm and forceful, not frantic but demanding and sure. This was the voice of someone you did not want to cross. 

“O?” Jones spoke, hoping it would pick him up.

“Who are you and why do you have this comm?” The voice became harsh and commanding and sent all of Jones’ instincts into overdrive.

“My name is Agent Jones with the FBI. Mr. Nightwing gave this to me and told me to talk to O.” His voice only shook a little. Jones took a breath before he spoke again. “Are you O?”

“This is Oracle speaking. What message did he give you?”

“He said he needed an out.” Jones looked over at the black-and-blue-clad hero that he was still half supporting. “He got flung up against a wall. He can hardly stand right now and has thrown up twice. I’m pretty sure he’s got his eyes closed under his mask and the sound of the comm really hurt him. He hasn’t really moved since he gave me the comm. He’s just kind of slumped up against me.”

Jones moved his hand up against the man’s neck.

“Pulse feels normal-well, if he is a baseline human. If not, you’d know more than me if that’s a bad thing for him.” Jones slipped into the old habits drilled into him from the Navy on how to protect a wounded ally. “His respiration is again normal for baseline, but I don’t know if that is the same for rubber-band people.”

The ugly snort that sounded in his ear did more to reassure Jones than even the steady heartbeat under his fingertips.

“Oh my god. That is lovely. I’m totally calling him that later. How much medical experience do you have? Are you guys in immediate danger?”

“Navy first-aid training. We are currently in a secure location and there are a few defensible places we can move if we come under direct attack.” Jones assessed the situation.

“Okay, it looks like you are going to have to monitor him for a little while.” O’s voice suddenly sounded tighter and almost distracted. “I’ll send someone for him as soon as I can. His vitals should fall into the same range as a baseline human, so if they fall out of that range, you holler back to me.”

“Yes, sir,” Jones responded instinctively to the command in Oracle’s voice.

“Oh, you will do just fine.” O clicked the line off again. He could hear the smirk in the voice.

Dick wasn’t really aware of the next few hours. He leaned into his friend, trusting him to keep them safe or call for help when he couldn’t.

“How are things looking for you and Wing, Agent Jones?” The voice appeared in his ear again.

“Well, we are fine. He doesn’t look any worse, but he is still not moving much, and from all the footage of him on the internet, I’d say that is pretty strange,” Jones reported. “He, um-he’s also clinging to me like a koala.”

“The clinging is normal for Wing. He also likes his hair played with, especially when he has head injuries.” Jones wasn’t sure if the laughter he heard in Oracle’s voice was making fun of him or Wing or something else entirely. “I’ve got a couple of allies heading your way to take him off your hands. Sit tight a while longer and then we will get him out of your hair.”

“Roger that,” Jones said. “Your buddies are coming for you. They are going to be here any minute.” Jones spoke quietly, reassuring the injured man. He gently stroked the vigilante’s hair like O had suggested, prompting the man to nuzzle further into Jones’ shoulder. God, if 25-year-old Jones saw himself now, all his fantasies would have been fulfilled in this single moment-well, the PG ones, anyways.

Jones never heard him approach or he wouldn’t have let himself be caught cuddling their fellow vigilante.

“Wing, can you even be any more of an octopus?” A mechanized voice drifted over to them.

Jones looked up and his mouth went dry. The man walking toward him was a hunk straight out of his dreams. The man’s cargo pants strained against his thighs. The leather jacket that protected him hugged his frame in all the right places. Then, Jones looked a little further up and saw the red helmet.

Fuck.

It was the Red Hood, who was currently holding in at number seven on the FBI’s most wanted list.  Jones moved as stealthily as he could and toggled the comm on again.

“O, need backup. We are being approached by a hostile, heavily armed and dangerous,” Jones breathed into the device.

“Backup is en route. I will patch them into the comm. Give me a sitrep.”

“It’s the Red Hood. He’s approaching from the South about 20 feet away. He hasn’t pulled any weapons yet, but there is no way he’d miss at this proximity and…”

“Damn, O. I feel the love here. Did you not tell the guy who was coming?” The same mechanized voice sounded over Jones’ report. 

“Honestly, no. I didn’t. I just told him an ally was coming. I didn’t know which one of you guys would get there first,” O sniped back at the Hood. “The FBI must not have updated their files since the League sent out the results of your trial ages ago. Agent Jones, the Red Hood is working with me and Nightwing. He is the one you are turning over Wing to.”

“Oh. Umm, okay. Sorry to bother you.” Jones flushed, embarrassed that he had wasted Oracle’s time with a false alarm.

“Are you going to shoot me if I come any closer?” Hood asked.

“No. Are you going to shoot me if you come any closer?” he snarked back.

“Nah, I don’t shoot at Feds much anymore.” Hood laughed.

“I just wanted to make sure cause you know; you’ve got quite a reputation around the Bureau.”

“Yeah, well, at least Wing managed to get hurt around a competent agent that actually could guard his back for a little while,” Hood said, slowly peeling the other man out of Jones’ arms. Jones swallowed, nervous and excited to be in such close proximity with the dangerous man. Once Hood had a grip on Nightwing, Jones pulled the comm unit out of his ear and gave it back, knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to keep the tech, even if he’d love a chance to talk to any of these heroes again. Hood took it and then hoisted the shorter man up into his arms, disappearing into the dust and debris between one blink and the next.

Jones was going to get free drinks at the office for months with this story.

Hood took Neal back toward the FBI office; he knew this was going to suck, but they had to preserve Dick’s ID.

“Where’s your stuff, Dickhead?” Jason asked.

“Roof door, three tiles left,” Dick groaned against the swinging motion of the grapples.

Hood dragged his big brother to the top of the FBI building and slipped the two of them into the roof access door. He propped Dick against the wall as he efficiently stripped his brother out of his uniform and helped him back into the Caffrey persona. Jason checked Dick’s injuries as he was helping him change. The two of them had discussed the plan on the way over here; there was no way to disguise Dick’s injuries this time so they needed a reason for Neal to have been injured. Jason carried Dick back out the roof exit and grappled the two of them back down to the ground.

They went half a block away from the FBI building to one of the cafés that had sustained a lot of damage in the fight. Jason quickly half-buried Neal under a collapsed wall, making sure that he was sticking out enough to be easily findable and that his ankle monitor was on but crushed enough that there was an easy excuse for the data not working right.

“We will be waiting for you at the apartment,” Jason said, squeezing Dick’s hand. He hated this part but they all knew it was part of the job. Dick was stable enough that there was no reason to blow his cover, so he had to walk away, leaving his brother injured and alone to be found by the FBI or even a civilian. A few years ago, Jason wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but now he was in a much better place mentally and in his relationship with his family. Now he was nauseous thinking about everything that could go wrong here if he still wasn’t found in enough time. He stood watch from the top of a neighboring building until his brother was found and unearthed.

The Feds swarmed the tiny café, busy helping to find people. Jason watched as Dick’s pet Fed found his fedora and then found his brother carefully ‘pinned’ under the rubble. Jason breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the EMTs checking Neal over.

Dick was done. He’d been poked and prodded by the vicious lady in the back of the ambulance. Surprise, surprise, she said he had a concussion. The only reason they didn’t make him go to the hospital immediately was because it was flooded with other victims from the attack.

Dick was grumpy and tired and he just wanted to go home, damn it. He’d settle for June’s place, but he just wanted to be alone, with some peace and quiet.

Peter helped him up the stairs to the apartment, then stood awkwardly in the doorway of Neal’s apartment, not sure what to do first. He wanted answers as to why Neal had been outside in the first place to get smashed, but Neal needed rest, food and a shower.

Dick took pity on Peter and started giving directions.

“Peter, grab me some clothes over there and help me into the bathroom. I should be able to shower myself but I want to get all this gunk off of me now. You can leave the door open or even sit on the toilet if you are too worried but please let me get clean.”

Peter nodded. The interrogation could wait. He did as Neal had directed, helping him into the shower and out of his suit jacket when he couldn’t move his arms properly. Peter couldn’t stop the hiss of surprise at the scars on Dick’s back.

“Not tonight, Peter,” Dick pleaded.

“Not tonight but soon,” Peter agreed. There was no way being smushed under the café walls could account for all of those scars. Many of them looked years old, anyways.

Peter let Neal take his shower by himself, leaving the door cracked so he could help if something happened. He called El and told her he was going to spend the night over here. Peter didn't want to leave Neal alone with the concussion. He couldn’t stand the idea of Neal suffering alone tonight. His back would probably hate him for the pullout couch but his friend’s safety was more important.

The door burst open, spilling several people into the room.

Peter dropped his phone on the couch, his hand reaching for his gun automatically.

The biggest guy looked like he was in a gang with his dark leather jacket and his two-toned hair. The youngest was in a green hoodie pulled over his head that did nothing to hide the bright green eyes in his coffee-colored face. The last one had clearly been near the action; he still had dust in his hair and a scratch down his face. His dark hair was damp with sweat.

“Who are you?” Peter asked, voice laced with suspicion.

The three men in the doorway quickly exchanged glances debating who was going to talk to the Fed with a gun. The thin guy with dust all over him stepped forward, hand extended.

“Alvin Draper. We are here to see Neal. Is he in?” Peter shook hands on autopilot, not sure why these three were setting off warning bells in his head. Before Peter could figure out what to say, Neal shuffled out of the bathroom with just a pair of sweats on while holding the t-shirt.

“Peter, could you help me with this? I don't think I can get my arms up enough,” Neal mumbled.

Green hoodie moved over to Neal before Peter got a chance. “Here, let me help.” He grabbed the shirt and helped his big brother put it on without jostling his head or injuries.

“What are you guys doing here?” Neal blinked at his little brother in confusion.

“We came to check in on you, seeing as you work down where all the action is,” the skunk-headed bruiser said. He moved to the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans even as he asked, “Have you eaten yet?”

“No-just got home with a concussion.  Shower, then food, & sleep.” Neal was carefully trying to enunciate his words, then gave up and leaned into his little brother. “I’m glad you’re here, D,” he said, nuzzling his face into Damian’s neck.

Peter just stood, watching the four men. They clearly knew each other. Neal wouldn’t have cuddled into just anyone like he was with the youngest. The taller one clearly already knew where everything was kept in the kitchen, and the other boy had gone toward Neal’s dresser and pulled out a stack of clothes.

“You don’t have to stay with him. We can take care of Neal tonight,” Alvin said to Peter before he disappeared into the shower.

Peter hesitated. He wanted to go home and see his wife, but that would mean abandoning his friend to these people he didn’t know.

“Neal? Do you want me to stay?” he asked.

“Nah, go check on El. They’ve got me tonight.” He was still leaning into the youngest, though they had managed to sit on the couch now. The little one was carding his fingers through Neal's damp waves.

Peter nodded. He went over to the kitchen and glared at the big guy.

“He’s got a concussion. He shouldn’t be alone. I don’t know who you are but Neal clearly likes you guys. Here’s my number. If you need to leave, call me and I will come stay with him.” Peter left his card on the counter near the veggies he was chopping, then he left.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Damian let out a sigh. “Finally.”

“Make sure I know who he met before I see Peter again, okay, guys? I’m gonna take a nap now.” Dick fell asleep knowing he was going to be fine and with Damian’s hands stroking his hair as gently as they ever touched Alfred or Titus. 

Wally West, Consultant from Star Labs:

The first day back promised to be a little awkward because Dick still had to figure out what to tell Peter about why Neal left the safety of the FBI to brave the streets. He was pretty sure they wouldn’t actually believe that he was afraid. They had seen him stare down guns a few too many times undercover for that to fly well. He also needed to come up with just enough explanation for the scars that Peter had seen that he could easily work into Neal’s history. The gunshot wounds should be easy enough with a tight smile and a ‘there's a reason I don’t like guns, Peter.’ But the various knife wounds and the acid burn he got during an old mission, not to mention the strangely discolored blue patch that an alien energy weapon had left on him ages ago… Those would require something little more than just a sentence and a rueful smile. 

The Bureau let him have three whole days off before they expected him back at work, so Dick spent those days sleeping and resting in his apartment, watched over by a constantly rotating cast of his friends and family. 

Wally managed to break away from work a few days by promising to do the next three consultations for work. He got Linda and Aunt Iris to babysit the kids. This mission had been hard on all of them, but Jay and Irey were desperately wanting to see their step-dad. However, prior experience with the kids and concussions meant it was better to not bring them.

Dick got to spend the last few days in a haze of cuddles and love and, of course, pain, too, but honestly, he was so used to needing to function on a concussion that having a few days off was actually pretty nice. Dick should do this every time he got a concussion.

Wally wound up staying in New York for the remainder of the week because the first consultation was somewhere in the City and they were emailing him details later. Neal’s week promised to be great, if he could just make it through the first day back. 

First thing when he stepped in the door, he was called up to Peter’s office. Thank god he stopped for good coffee on the way into work today. He was kind of surprised that Peter had been okay with him making his own way into the office. He’d half expected to find marshals at his door for the whole leaving-during-the-apocalypse thing anyways; he definitely didn't expect to be trusted to come in on his own.

Dick entered Peter's office with a smile on his face and his hat pulled low over his eyes. 

"Head still hurts?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I got my bell rung pretty good." Dick grimaced at the harsh lights.

"Why did you leave the building, Neal?" he asked with a sigh. "You've got to know how this looks. I've kept the marshals at bay for now but they are all insisting that this was an escape attempt. I don't believe that but I don't know what it actually was."

Dick felt awful for the way he was going to be playing this. He hadn't really expected to make friends with the team so he'd not really prepared himself for the lingering guilt for all the lying. 

"I wasn't trying to escape, Peter. I… I was going to get El. I didn't want her alone against the aliens. I was going to escort her here." 

Peter looked at Neal, studying his face, trying to gauge the truth in his statement. He must have looked honest enough because Peter sighed again. 

"Next time make sure someone knows what you're doing, got it?" 

"Yes, sir boss man." Neal salutes Peter with a slight smile.

"And, Neal, thanks for thinking of my wife's safety. We are meeting in the conference room in five.” 

“Got it,” Dick said. He decided to head in there directly instead of taking the stairs again. 

The rest of the team filtered in the room over the next few minutes. Jones came in and sat next to him with a grin. 

“I have got one wild story to tell you later. You will not believe what happened the other day.” 

“How are you feeling, Neal?” Diana asked when she came in and sat opposite of the men. 

“Still dizzy if I move too fast. Bright lights are a pain but overall better.” Dick wasn’t used to being honest with civilians about his injuries; it was kind of nice knowing that people cared.

Peter walked in looking at his watch, frowning. Someone was in trouble. 

“It looks like our liaison is running late today.” 

Before Peter could get any further, a very familiar red-head was shown into the room. Dick couldn’t help but smile a little brighter at the sight of his husband's gorgeous face. 

“Sorry I’m late. I had a bit of trouble with the subway,” Wally apologized as he introduced himself. “I’m Wally West. They sent me over from Star Labs. I heard you had an interesting case you needed help with.”  

“The insurance claims state that the stolen pieces are jade, but our labs are saying that they are materials not even from earth? The Bureau decided to send for the extraterrestrial experts. You're supposed to tell us what this really is, if it's dangerous, and, if you can tell, was it swapped or has it always been… whatever it is.” 

“What kind of samples am I working with? Do you have the complete artifacts or am I working with residues?” Wally got down to business. “Also, where can I set up?” 

Peter looked a bit surprised at that. “I thought you would be taking the samples with you? To test in your own labs?”

“I might still need to, but I carry the most common samples with me. That way you aren’t waiting on me to travel all the way back to Central if we can help it. I need either an empty lab space or a hygienic, well-lit, well-ventilated room.”

“I can show him to the lab levels and see if the techs have a space he can set up in,” Dick volunteered. 

“You just want to get out of more work.” Diana laughed. 

“It's not like I can read very long right now anyways. Might as well be useful.” 

“Lab C already has the samples you can start with taking him there and see if they have a place for him. Just come straight back up once Mr. West gets set up; I’ll fill you in on the rest of the case.”

Peter and Neal went over the case files for most of the morning. Peter would read out parts of the files and the two would start talking out how it could have worked or how the perp managed to pull off the heist. It felt a lot more like a gossip session than work. It was almost time for lunch before Dick realized that Peter hadn’t let him look at any files longer than twenty minutes before he pulled him off into a brainstorming session. It was the little things like that that really showed Dick Peter cared for him.  

“I’m gonna check and see if our liaison wants some lunch. You want me to bring you back anything?” Dick rose from the table and headed to the door. 

“Sure, anything that isn’t rabbit food. El is trying to get me to eat healthy again,” Peter complained. 

Dick wandered down to the lab where he’d left Wally and knocked on the doorframe. Wally had his lab coat and a pair of safety goggles on. He was humming along to the radio while processing samples. He looked like a dork, and Dick couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with him right then. 

“Lunch time. You want anything, babe?” Dick came up behind Wally and gently wrapped his arms around him, resting his head between Wally's shoulder blades. 

“Give me two minutes and I can wrap this up and go get us something. Is that okay, Rob?” 

“Sounds good,” Dick mumbled into his back, not moving from his spot. 

Wally chuckled and continued working, far too used to Dick’s clingy nature when he was hurt to be impeded by his husband draping himself all over him. Neither of them noticed that Jones had spotted them as he was walking by the lab.  

Jones did not want to tell Peter but he needed to know if Neal was sexually harassing the visiting lab tech. This could change everything about Neal’s deal. Jones went back upstairs to talk to Peter. 

Wally finished his work and they went outside to enjoy the fresh air and lack of FBI oversight. He zoomed off and got the two of them Bat-Burgers for lunch. Dick cuddled into Wally’s arms after they had finished eating. They were both unaware that Diana had spotted them on her way back from her own lunch date with her girlfriend. She watched as Wally pressed a kiss to the top of Dick’s head, rousing him from the half doze he’d fallen into. She was going to have to tell Peter if Wally and Neal were dating because the defense could claim conflict of interest if it came out later. Diana headed up to talk to Peter. 

Wally zoomed away to get Peter’s lunch from a cafe down the street; Bat-burger, the Gotham-only chain, would have been too suspicious. So as soon as he got back, the two of them went upstairs. Dick leaned tiredly on Wally the whole time in the elevator, but as soon as the doors opened, he was back to energetic, bouncy Neal Caffrey. 

Dick ducked his head in Peter’s office, where Jones and Diana were already talking to him. 

“Oh-didn’t mean to interrupt, but here’s your lunch,” Neal said. 

“Neal, come on in. We need to talk.” 

“Am I in trouble?” he asked, confused. What could he have possibly done this time?

“Everything okay?” Wally asked from right behind Dick. 

“Mr. West, you can come in, too.” 

“What is going on?” Neal felt defensive and he wasn’t even sure what he did wrong and his head was starting to hurt from all the lights and reading.

Peter looked at them for a moment, obviously choosing his words carefully. 

“Are you and Mr. West in a relationship?” 

“I’m his husband.” 

Dick spluttered and looked at Wally with wide eyes. 

“I thought we weren’t telling anyone?” Dick said softly. 

“Yeah, I didn’t like that plan cause that means I couldn’t do this.” Wally leaned over and kissed his cheek. 

“You got hurt and I wasn’t able to be here, just because they didn’t know, and I'm not okay with that,” Wally said softly. 

Dick melted under the concern in Wally’s eyes. “It wasn’t going to be forever, Wals.” 

“Felt like it.” Wally pouted. 

“Okay, okay, good to know,” Peter said, unwittingly interrupting their moment. “At least now I won’t have to give you a sexual harassment speech. I know you don't know government protocols, but I needed to know you two were involved so that all the evidence he finds doesn’t get thrown out in court.”

“Oh, umm, Peter, this is my husband, Wally West,” Dick said, lacing his fingers with Wally’s. 

“Okay, the easiest way to fix this is to pull Neal from this case, which unfortunately means more mortgage fraud for you, Neal.” 

“Uggh, really?” Dick whined. 

“I did figure out the samples,” Wally started to report. Peter held up a hand to stop him. 

“Neal, you are going to need to leave before we can keep talking about this. I’m sorry.” 

“No problem.” Neal and Diana left the room so that Wally could fill the other two in on what he’d found. 

“You know you could have told me and I would have understood, Neal.” Diana couldn’t completely hide the hurt in her voice. 

“It wasn’t a gay thing, Di. It was that I-didn't-want-to-drag-him-down-with-me kind of thing. It was for his protection that no one knows we are together, so that my enemies can’t use him against me. You would have been the first I told.” 

Dick hadn’t expected to become such good friends with the team. He was almost sad that the mission was coming to a close-just a few more months and he should have everything wrapped up. He was ready to be done. He desperately wanted to see his family again. It had been so long since the last time he’d seen his kids in person. Skype and Zoom were fine but he’d never gone so long without seeing them unless he was off-planet. Soon, it would be over and he could go home to Wally, Jay and Irey. 

Wonder Woman:

The case wrapped up pretty quickly after that, meaning Wally had to go home. Dick’s chipper persona faltered a little bit the next few days. It almost hurt more having Wally with him for the week than just staying apart till the mission was over, but he wouldn't trade his time with Wally for anything. Figuring out you're in love with your best friend on the day of his funeral is a surefire way to make sure you don't waste a minute of time ever again. 

Diana made it her mission over the next few days to try and cheer Neal up, telling him stupid jokes to get him to laugh even though they could all tell he was missing his husband. The four of them were having a late night working the latest art forgery, huddled up in the conference room comparing files and eating bad take out. Peter had been looking at Neal funny for hours. Finally, Dick couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Just ask, Peter, I probably won’t be offended at all, and you not asking is driving me crazy,” Dick said.

“How long have you been married?” Peter asked. 

“Longer than I’ve known you,” Dick said. 

“How come we didn’t know?” Peter was trying to hide the genuine hurt behind the question. 

“We don't really go around announcing it all that much. It's a secret to protect him from the life I live,” Dick answered. 

“Have you ever thought about retiring?” Jones asked gently. 

“Only for the last four years, but something always comes up. No matter how much you want to, you don’t just leave the life behind, something always pulls you back in.” Dick sighed.

He took one more bite of his chicken, then got up and went to the board. He pulled down one of the pages they had taped to the wall and brought it over to Jones’ file, flipping through it rapidly until he found the page he was looking for. 

"Does this look familiar to you?" he asked, holding the two pages side by side.

"Yeah, those look very similar," Jones agreed. 

"What is he doing targeting Grecian artifacts?" Diana asked.

“Those aren't Grecian,” Dick mused. 

He quickly pulled several of the files together, flipping to the itemized lists of stolen goods. On every single list, there was one or more ‘Greek’ artifacts. The ones with pictures confirmed his growing suspicion. 

“Those are Themysciran,” he said. 

“Are we looking at a thief who is targeting items that got lost in the main world or did they think they were just getting ancient Greek artifacts?” Dick trailed off in thought. 

“How in the world did you figure out that they were Amazonian?” Diana asked. 

“You see, in all of these pieces the women depicted are warriors. Hardly any have a man depicted at all and those are limited to the pantheon. Very few cultures, especially ‘ancient’ cultures, allowed women to fight. Even the ones that did frequently overshadowed them with their male comrades in arms, not giving the ladies the acknowledgement they deserved.”

“So where does that leave us?” Peter asked. 

“Without a case,” Dick replied. “Anything Themysciran-related gets bumped to the Justice League. The United Nations agreed that they were the only ones that would be allowed to handle that and the Atlantean cases. Otherwise, jurisdiction and legalities became a nightmare. Was the artifact you found part of a shipwreck or archeological dig, or was it smuggled out of Atlantis or Themyscira? The JLA is the only legal entity that Atlantis or Themyscira allow to pass judgement over any disputes.”

“How in the world do you know that?” Jones asked. All three agents were staring at Neal in utter confusion. 

“You have to know who you're up against. Is it just the local LEOs, the FBI, Interpol or the Justice League? If you don't know who you are potentially crossing wits with, you don’t survive long as a thief. You definitely don't survive long enough to become a world-renowned thief.” Dick shrugged with just the right amount of cockiness and nonchalance in his tone for Peter to dismiss the extraneous knowledge out of hand.  

Peter grumbled as he made the phone call to pass the case out of their hands. 

“Alright, gang. It looks like we can just pack up and head home. The JLA isn’t going to send anyone out here tonight-apparently there was a thing with giant Lemur warlords invading Denver?” Peter said, shaking his head.

He didn’t want to know. He was happy chasing normal everyday white-collar criminals, like Neal. Giant mutant mammals invading whole cities were definitely not something he ever wanted to be involved with. He could almost feel the headache already. 

The next morning, Dick sat through three lectures on proper behavior when a member of the Justice League was visiting. The only things that stopped him from screaming were a) the fact that the whole department got the first lecture, b) Peter’s whole team got the second lecture and c) the joy he got from his imagining the looks on the agent’s faces if they knew they had spent fifteen months working alongside a JLA member already.  

Exactly at 10 o’clock, the elevator opened and Diana Prince entered the office. The Bullpen quieted; even in a normal business suit, she radiated power. Hughes came down from his office to greet her. 

“Hello, are you our League representative?” he asked after he introduced himself.

“Diana Prince. I am an expert on Themysciran art. I was sent to confirm your theory that it is related to my homeland.” 

“Our resident criminal informant told us he suspected it was Themysciran so we hope we haven’t wasted your time, ma’am. If you’ll follow me into the conference room here, we have the data laid out and our team that has been working on the case can show us their findings,” Hughes said, leading her through the stares and whispers to the other room. 

Dick was secretly amused at how the normally cool FBI agents were reacting to his aunt Di. He had been pretty sure that both Diana and Jones were going to freak out for differing but obvious reasons. He hadn’t expected the unflappable Peter to be this nervous, though. 

When Hughes and Diana entered the room, Dick was the only one capable of having a normal conversation with the visiting demigoddess. 

“Neal Caffrey, at your service.” Dick reached out to introduce himself, eyes sparkling with mischief. “These are the fearless FBI agents: Special Agents Clinton Jones, Peter Burke and our very own Diana Berrigan. It is enchanting to meet such a Wonder‘ful’ Woman such as yourself.” 

“I guess bad puns like that are the price of not having a secret identity unlike so many of my teammates.” She laughed at his familiar pun. His bad pun and her laughing response seemed to snap the other agents out of their stupor. 

“These four photos are what made me think this is a job targeting Themysciran artifacts instead of just normal ‘ancient Greek’ pieces,” Dick said. He grabbed the files and pulled the pertinent documents to show her. 

In twenty short minutes, Diana (WW) confirmed what Dick had guessed, took charge of the case, and got Diana’s (FBI) phone number. She twirled into the office and left so fast the agents barely even knew what was going on. 

“Looks like someone caught your eye.” Dick went over to stand by his friend Diana as she stared in shock at the elevator. 

“Did that just happen?” Diana turned to him and asked. “Please tell me that wasn’t just a fever dream, but Wonder Woman really asked me for my number, right?”  

“Yep. Looks like you impressed her,” Dick said. 

*ding* 

Diana jumped as her phone vibrated with an incoming notification. 

“I have Wonder Woman’s number on my phone,” she said in awe, hands trembling. 

“Hey, don't act so surprised. She just saw how good a person you are. You deserve to have someone nice in your life, and I’m pretty sure she’s not going to get too upset when you cancel plans and have to work late because of a tough case.” 

Nightwing:

After Wonder Woman left the office, things returned to normal pretty quickly. It was a Tuesday morning when everything changed. The whole white collar department was in the conference room getting briefed on the latest case. 

*Bring Bring* sounded the hidden phone in Dick’s pocket. Dick paled. His bat-phone was set to silent. There were overrides but everyone knew not to use them unless it was an actual emergency. They had only used the override one other time and that was when Jason died. 

With a shaky hand, he pulled out the phone and answered it in the middle of the brief, not even bothering to leave or lower his voice. 

“N here. What’s wrong?” 

Peter and Hughes looked at him in disbelief. He was normally a little cocky but never blatantly disruptive like this.

“N, they are missing. The kids are gone.” Wally’s voice sounded panicked.

Dick started moving; he put the phone on speaker and moved to the head of the room he needed his hands free, where the computer they were using to project the briefing was. 

“They were saying they missed you and wanted to see you. I went to check on them and they are missing. They left a note saying they were going to your place. Buttheyaren’there. Pleasesaytheyarewithyou.” Wally’s panicked voice rang out over the line. 

“Fuck.” Dick had already pushed Peter out of the way and started hacking. “No, they didn’t make it here.” 

The screen flickered as Dick brought up traffic cams in Central City. 

“Neal, you can’t just hack into the DOT’s traffic cams. It's illegal,” Peter protested. 

“Peter, my kids are missing, so you can go to hell with legality.” Dick never paused his search. Motion flicked as twin streaks of orange and yellow flashed on the screen. The team watched as Dick started following the streaks through various traffic cams and social media posts. 

“Since when can you hack?” Jones asked.

“Since I was twelve,” Dick answered absentmindedly. “I got a trace of them, KF. Where are you at right now?” 

“Your apartment in Blüd. I wasn’t sure if we told them where you were so I’ve checked all your safehouses.” 

“I’ve traced them through to Dayton, Ohio. I’ve got a few different routes they could have taken from there. Run them for me?”

“On it. Which way?” 

“Run from Blüd to Baltimore to Dayton, then back up through Pittsburgh to NY. Come straight to the office. We'll figure out a plan from there. Bring me my gear.” 

“Got it.” 

Dick hung up, a dark look on his face. No one had ever seen him angry and quite a few agents were finding out that Neal Caffrey might actually be someone to be afraid of. 

“Supes, Superboy, all of you get your asses here right now,” Dick called out. 

“Like they would just come for you.” Agent Green let out a snort of disbelief, which earned him a Batglare so strong that he withered under it and let out a small squeak.

Suddenly, the computer projection flickered. On the wall was an injured Tim wearing a mask but completely shirtless except for some bruises, hickeys, and several layers of bandages around his ribs. 

“Red Robin, talk,” Dick commanded, glancing at the screen.  

“Superboy just flew out of here in a panic. Said it sounded bad?” 

Dick nodded.  

Kon and Clark flew in the windows. Jon came in a moment behind, carrying Robin. 

All the agents just froze in shock. Neal Caffrey, Criminal Informant to the FBI, felon with charges on bond forgery and accused of several other crimes, commanded superheroes and they obeyed !! 

Dick took a deep breath.

“My kids are missing. I’ve tracked them to Dayton, Ohio, but then I can't find them on any other cameras. KF is running the routes between Blüd, Central and here.”

“Shit.” Red Robin's fingers started to fly over his keyboard. “I’m opening the backdoor program to the Watchtower mainframe now…” The screen projected the data that Red Robin was seeing. “I’ll find them if they show up on camera anywhere.” 

“Uncle C, can you hear them at all?” Dick’s voice broke slightly. A blur of red light came up next to Dick and solidified into the Flash. The Flash dropped the duffle next to them and wrapped his arms around Dick.

“I can’t find them, Rob. I can’t find them,” Wally said frantically, burying his face in Dick’s shoulder before he let out a soft sob. 

“We’re going to find them.” Dick held Wally tight and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I can’t hear them anywhere,” Superman said. “We can fly over the area and look.” 

“Please,” Wally begged. 

The Superfamily flew out the window and started to fly over Ohio.

The computer showed the Watchtower’s systems rapidly flickering through everything from traffic cameras, ring doorbells, to Twitters looking for something. 

“Wasn’t there a Meta trafficking ring that Hood was working on near Detroit?” Robin said. 

“Fuck. You don’t think…” All three superheroes froze, terrified at the thought that Jay and Irey might have been kidnapped. 

“You brought my full kit?” Dick started pulling off his shirt in the middle of the conference room, changing into his Nightwing gear. He had lost any sense of modesty long ago and he was not willing to spare a second to go elsewhere. He couldn’t be out of the loop for even a moment. 

“Oh, my God,” one of the agents gasped as Dick stripped, revealing some serious scarring along his back and a pretty impressive display of bruises. 

“Is he really going to change right here?” a probie asked. 

“Talk to me, Red.” Dick shimmied out of his trousers, showing off well-toned calves covered in scars. He grabbed the familiar black-and-blue spandex-kevlar blend and pulled it on. 

“There is a Meta trafficking ring that Hood’s been investigating out of Detroit. It could extend that far south. I’ll get him on the line and see if he’s got any more information he can give us,” Red Robin reported. 

Once he’d fully gotten the suit on, Dick dropped to the floor and started his warm-up stretches. 

“He really is a rubber band person,” Jones said in awe, watching Dick go through stretches that would make most gymnasts wince in pain. 

Dick let out an amused snort. That was the first “normal Neal Caffrey” sound he’d made since he picked up the phone five minutes ago. 

“Thanks for the new nickname by the way, Jones. I don’t know how I managed to avoid that one before but now the whole Justice League flicks rubber bands at me all the time.” 

The sound of gunfire came over the comm. 

“Now is not a good time, Replacement.” A mechanized voice sounded through the room. 

Wally was pacing anxiously around the room. He was moving so fast he was just a blur of motion. All he needed was a location and he and Dick were going to get their kids back.

“My kids are missing, Little Wing. Disappeared in Ohio. Would the ring you’ve been working reach down that far?” Dick said. He’d stopped stretching and started rummaging through the duffle bag. He tossed a couple of protein bars and a shake at Wally, giving him a pointed look, the one that said ‘Eat or you are going to pass out and not be going on this mission.’

“Fuck. Umm. Not sure. I can tell you the kids aren’t at the main base right now.” More gunshots rang out. 

Wally unwrapped one of the special Speedster-level protein bars and took a bite. His throat was tight with stress and worry but he had run across the continental US at least three times today so he needed the calories or he would pass out soon. Every bite tasted like ash on his tongue. 

“Goldie, how are you holding up?” Dick looked up at the security camera in the room and gave it the terrifying Robin smile, the same one that had convinced more than one hardened criminal that they were better off dead than confronting the tiny traffic light of doom. 

“Oh, I am just peachy, Little Wing,” Dick’s voice growled darkly as he affixed his mask. 

Robin was still standing in the corner, sharpening his katanas, waiting. The sound of the whetstone added its rasping counterpoint to the words. 

Dick grabbed his phone and dialed a number, put the phone on speaker and laid it on the table as he finished checking that all his weapons were in place.  

“What do you want, pretty bird?” A grizzled and slightly harried voice came over the phone. 

Wally froze at the sound of the low, smoky voice and turned to look at his husband with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

“Slade, you owe me a favor. Unlimited, right?”

“Yeah. What did you need?” Slade asked. 

“My kids are missing. Help me get them back,” Dick said. 

“Are you trying to buy my typical services with that favor?” Slade sounded surprised. “I didn’t think you would ever hire a mercenary.”

Diana's face had frozen in her ‘what-the-hell-is-going-on’ look earlier but she had to wonder why a superhero of Nightwing's caliber would have a mercenary on speed dial.  

“Trust me, I won’t be hiring you to kill whoever has them,” Dick said. 

Peter should have been reassured by those words, but something about Dick’s tone sent shivers down his spine.

“I guess you do have enough training to take care of that yourself,” Slade agreed. 

Slade paused for a moment. The sound of a shot muffled by a silencer came over the line. 

“Did he just kill someone with the FBI listening in?” Agent Green mouthed across the table to one of the other probies. 

“How long have they been gone? Do you have a ransom note?” Slade got down to business. 

“I saw them this morning. I dropped them off at my aunt’s house.” Wally spoke up.

“We have them on camera in Ohio around eight am.” Dick flicked his escrimas onto full electrical power, testing the current. His face glowed dangerously in the faint light they emitted. Flicking them off, he put them in their holsters on his back. 

“Shit. They could be anywhere by now. I’ll…” Slade was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. 

Wally’s phone in his pocket was ringing. Wally stumbled over to his husband and looked at it in fear for a moment. Irey’s number was calling. 

“Please just have gotten lost. Pleasejusthavegottenlost,” he muttered, hand trembling.

“Answer it, KF. I’m here with you.” Dick grabbed Wally’s hand. 

“Red,” Dick commanded sharply, tension laced in his voice.   

“I’ll be tracing it; don't worry about that part.” Red Robin nodded on the screen, hands moving swiftly to mute Red Hood’s line.

“Hello?” Wally said, pressing the button.  

“Hello. We have your kids. If you ever want to see them again, we want $100,000 each.” The voice on the other side of the line tried to sound menacing and dangerous. Mostly, they just sounded nervous.  

Wally and Dick looked at each other in shock. Obviously, whoever captured the kids had no idea who they had gotten. No professional worth anything would attempt to kidnap the children of two supers for less than a million each, so they obviously had no clue that they were talking to the Flash and Nightwing. They also couldn't know that they had taken the kids of Dick Grayson or the ransom would be high out of hopes of getting some of Bruce’s fortune.

“$200,000?” Wally said in surprise. 

“Hurry up before I change my mind and double it,” the amateur kidnapper said. 

Finally having some idea of what was going on calmed Wally considerably. He was calm and steady for the first time in hours. He watched Red Robin tracking the phone on the projected screen. He wanted to get Red the time he needed to find a location. 

“Proof of life, I want proof of life. Let me talk to them," he demanded.

“Wait for our call. You’ll get more instructions then,” the kidnapper said, hanging up the phone. 

“Was that long enough, Red?” Dick asked.

All three of the heroes in the room were twitching with the need to move, the need to do something. Damian put the whetstone away and sheathed his sword, ready to move at the slightest notice. 

“I got it down to a twelve-block radius,” Red Robin said. 

His fingers danced over the keys so fast they were a blur. The screens flickering in front of him illuminated his face. 

“... me what is going on, Replacement, or I swear to Wonder Woman, I will slit your throat again.” Jason’s curses rang out in the near-silent room. Several of the agents went white at the dire threats uttered by the antihero. Jones was personally more concerned about the ‘again’ part and the fact that none of the heroes seemed to mind at all. 

“Where are they?” Dick hardly dared to ask. 

“Minneapolis,” Red replied. He pulled up the map, highlighting a grid of the downtown riverfront. 

“This was as close as I could get the trace.”

“Uncle C, we got a location. We need a ride,” Dick called out just a touch louder than his normal speaking voice.  

“What part of Minneaplois?” Slade asked. “You know, for those of us on the phone who can’t see your fancy maps.” 

“I’ll text you. Are you actually near Minneapolis?” Red Robin sent Deathstroke the coordinates. The mercenary hung up without replying. 

Clark and his boys showed up, swooping in the windows, and grabbed a passenger each and zoomed out.  

Red Robin pulled up three video screens so that he could ‘see’ what his brothers and brother-in-law saw. He knew he probably should kill the feed to the White Collar office, but honestly, it wasn’t like Dick had any hope of keeping his cover after this, so he figured he might as well let them watch. 

A few of the agents who were prone to motion sickness shut their eyes at the nauseating blurs they were seeing as the trio flew at high speed to Minnesota. Civilians were definitely not used to ‘super speeds.’

“Keep me looped in, Replacement, but I've got to go for now. Tell me if I need to call Princess for a ride over, but I got a warehouse full of kids that need me here.” Hood clicked off his comm. 

“What the fuck? Is being a superhero always like this?” Agent Green asked in wonder. 

Red Robin snorted out a honking laugh.

“Oh, that is hilarious. This is so far below our paygrade, it isn't even funny . This is the kind of stuff we leave up to law enforcement. Kidnappings aren't really our purview you know. If you want to be impressed, you should see the shit we do during an invasion or an Arkham breakout. This is like nothing-the only reason any of us are involved is because it’s Wing and Flash's kids.”

"Alright. Look lively, guys. You are coming up on the place now." Red slipped seamlessly back into professional mode. The cameras steadied, showing three distinct aerial views of the city. The Supermen had split up, approaching the twelve-block area from three different directions. They started canvassing the city in a 'slow' grid using their x-ray vision to look for any sign of the kidnappers, slow still being more than 60 miles per hour.

"What are they even doing? Are they just flying over the city?" Agent Sanderson asked, confused.

"Superman and Superboys I and II are using their x-ray vision to look for the kidnappers."

"Isn't that a huge breach of privacy?" Sanderson continued.

"Honestly, none of us really care right now.  Supes and his kids don’t go blabbing about anything they see and it is not like the FBI has never invaded an innocent person's privacy with their surveillance, either."

"Yeah, but we have to have warrants and probable cause, not just casually snoop in everyone's house in a twelve-block radius," Peter said.

"As fun as it is to debate the comparative ethics of superheroes and federal agents, please wait until my kids are safe again, Peter." Dick's voice was strained tight with emotion and worry.

"Umm, I think I see them." Jonathan's voice came hesitatingly over Robin's comm.

"Where are you at?" Wally and Dick demanded.

"We are at 5th and River Street. Superboy, put me down on the rooftop over there," Robin commanded.

The agents watched as the six men converged on the top of a rundown apartment building.  Clark, Jon and Kon started mapping out the building where the two missing kids were being held.

"Nightwing, these aren't just amateur kidnappers," Clark said. "I think this is a whole trafficking ring and they clearly know how to keep Metas contained." 

"How many? Layout? Weapons?" Wally demanded, practically vibrating out of his skin, anxious to see his kids again.

None of the heroes startled when another man joined them on the rooftop. Several of the FBI agents gasped, seeing the iconic orange-and-navy suit of one of the most prolific and dangerous mercenaries in the world.

"Nightwing."

"Deathstroke. Are you here to help?"

"If you need it. I doubt you will. These traffickers aren't even that good. They just expanded into the Meta market a few months ago. They don’t know the first thing about market value of powers, all they know is how to slap an inhibitor collar on and hope they can frighten people with their guns.  Hell, that is why they called you guys for ransom. They had no clue how much you could sell two speedsters for black market, much less those two speedsters."

"How do you know so much about their organization?" Robin asked suspiciously.

"I was in town doing another job. I ran across some of their hired muscle and got curious. I was going to let them be. I figured it wasn’t going to be long before they made a big mistake and got taken out of the game. It looks like I was right." The man gave a negligent shrug of his shoulders.

The entire White Collar team watched in amazement as their carefree con-man quickly built a plan that catered to all of their various strengths and special powers, deployed his people, and rescued not only his two kids but also a whole bunch of other traumatized kids.  

“Man, it looks like we should have listened to his plans a little more often,” Diana said.

“Nightwing is quite the expert at mission control.” Red Robin agreed. “If you get a chance, have him run an op. You will learn so much.”  

They watched as Nightwing and Robin crept through the rafters of the warehouse. Then, they flipped down into the middle of the crowd of captors, taking the dozen men out of action. While the Bats dealt with the guys with guns, Wally and the Kryptonians started emptying the cages the children were kept in. Dick flipped end-over-end, kicking guns out of hands and punching guys in the face. Robin moved in tandem with his bouncy partner, watching his blindspot and disarming opponents with his katana. 

By the time Dick and Damian finished with the goons, all the children were out of the building being guarded by the Super family. Dick looked around. Not seeing any more goons or cages, he brought his escrimas down to a low guard position. 

“Superboy II, you and Robin clear the rest of the building and gather any intel. We need to know if this is a bigger operation or a one-off.  We can turn this over to Captain Marvel if there is more, but he’s going to want to know what is going on in his backyard.”  

Leaving Damian and Jonathan searching the premises, Dick shot his grapple to the ceiling and rode it back to the rooftop. He walked toward the others, pausing only long enough to tell Kon to keep an ear tuned to the younger two vigilantes.  He walked swiftly to the gaggle of children on the roof, not stopping until he grabbed a pair of adorable red-heads in a gigantic hug.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he asked even as he smothered them in a tight hug. 

"We missed you. We haven't seen you in forever," Irey began.

"It's been months and months since we've got to see you," Jay continued. 

His team watching back in the office started to feel bad for Neal, cut off from his family for so long. 

"Why do you have to work so far from home?" Irey hid her face in his shoulder.

"We just wanted to come and spend the day with you." Jay's lower lip wobbled as tears welled up in his eyes. 

Dick's heart melted a little. He pulled back just enough that he could look them both in the eyes.

"You know you're not supposed to go cross country without one of us."

"Who has to actually make that a rule?" Jones said.

"You guys could have been killed. You need to listen when we tell you not to do things," Dick said. "It's to keep you safe. Do you understand?"

"Let's go home, kids," Wally said.

Immediately, the two of them started bawling, both of them clutching on to Dick desperately.

"Nooooo. Wedon'twanttoleaveTata," Jay wailed. Dick swung Jay up on his hip and pressed a kiss to his forehead and wrapped an arm around Irey's shoulders. 

"I'm not letting you out of my sight today, munchkin," Dick said. "Supes, you got this?" 

Clark nodded. He would handle making sure the others were safe.

"Robin, I'm heading out. Are you good?"

"Tch. As if I need you to stick around," Robin declared. "Superboy will bring me back to Gotham when we are finished here."

"Yeah, We haven't finished Cheese Vikings IV yet, and Agent A said he was going to make us cookies," agreed Jon.

"Nice. Tell him I will be by soon, and Peter, I'm taking the rest of the week off. See you next Monday."

"You guys want Mexican? We could stop by Oaxaca before we head home," Wally asked.

The last thing the team saw before the feed cut was the Flash picking up Neal in a bridal carry and the three speedsters running off into the distance.

---

Red Robin’s face filled the screen. "Agents, please remain seated. You will be visited by a member of the Justice League shortly to speak with you."

Before they had gotten over the shock of everything they saw, Batman materialized from the shadows.

"You will tell no one of what you have seen here today. We will ensure your silence one way or another," he growled at them.

They vowed to keep the secret. None of the agents wanted to find out what the Bat would do to them to keep their silence. 

---

Dick held his kids tight. He couldn't help it. Every time one of them would leave his sight, he'd get anxious until he went and found them to smother them in more hugs. For the first few days he was back home, the kids loved it, but they were ready for a break by Saturday night.

Dick looked up in confusion when the doorbell rang. He put down the dish he was washing and picked up a spare escrima before he went to the door. He peeked out the peephole, checking to see who was coming over.

"Linda, what are you doing here?" he asked, opening the door.

"I know I'm a little early, but I figured you could use the time to get ready. I can come back closer to six if you need me to," she said.

"No, come in. I just didn't know you were coming over. What am I getting ready for?" Dick asked as he let her inside. 

"Date night with Wally? You didn't forget, did you?"

"Kids, come down here," Dick called up the stairs just as Wally zoomed into the room.

"Why is Linda under the impression she is babysitting tonight?" Dick asked the kids.

It took them about ten minutes for the three adults to drag the story out of them. How the two of them called their mom Linda and told her that she needed to babysit them for Dick and Wally's date night. Then they called Grandpa Bats and got him to make a reservation for their favorite restaurant and everything. 

Dick started to laugh at their adorable sneaky kids. He looked over at Wally and hugged him.

"Our children might be a pair of menaces, but would you like to go to dinner with me, Mr. Grayson-West?" 

"I think I would like that, Mr. West-Grayson." Wally kissed him, smiling. "If it really is fine with you, Linda?"

"I already planned to be here all night anyways. You two go enjoy yourselves." She laughed with her ex and his husband. 

"Thank you, guys.” Dick kissed the kids. "Be good for your mom, okay?"

---

No one really expected 'Neal Caffrey' to show back up in the White Collar office again, despite what he'd said to Peter. So, when Dick walked off the elevator in his tailored suit and fedora, it was to complete silence. Dick put on his best Caffrey grin.

"I know I was gone for half a week, guys, but I didn't think you'd miss me that much." He walked over to his desk and flipped his hat onto Shakespeare. He pulled some mortgage fraud files and started working, as if he hadn't just blown the minds of the entire office by revealing the fact he was a world-renowned superhero just last week.