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Bruce was enjoying his usual morning coffee when the message came. He picked his phone and spent unforgivable amount of time of staring at it. Dick texted him. Not that it was something unusual – Dick texted him from time to time, as he did with all family members, - but the message itself was quite disturbing. Bruce blinked, staring at the ransom message and not comprehending it.
Dick was taken.
Dick was abducted. As a civilian. And someone was using his phone to get ransom from Bruce Wayne.
Bruce slammed his coffee on the table, startling it other occupants. He looked at their confused faces and barked: “Suit up”.
***
Dick was pissed. No, scratch that, he was livid.
He was tied pretty decently, no amount of wriggling around loosed the binds even a little bit. Whoever tied him up was perfectly aware of his capabilities. And considering the fact that he was taken as a civilian, that was pretty disturbing.
Also those ropes looked a lot like they were bought in sex-shop. And wasn’t that confusing as hell.
Dick wriggled or tried to wriggle around and get a better look at his surroundings.
Another thing, pissing him off, was the bet. The bet and the cursed title of boy-hostage. He was about to win! If whoever didn’t go and ruin everything by this stupid kidnaping. God damn it!
The door behind him opened and Dick stilled, not able to look behind his back thanks to ropes holding him in place.
Someone walked inside, his steps heavy and definitely trained. Also they were greatly familiar.
“Slade?” Dick strained his neck trying to look behind. To no avail.
Slade chuckled.
“Hello pretty bird. Slept well?”
“You bastard…”
Dick groaned and relaxed, allowing his head to thump heavily against cold concrete floor. Strangely not that strangely, other parts of his body lay on a thin mattress, stalling off the cold.
Slade huffed and crouched at Dicks back, turning him over. Dick went with the motion, now staring Deathstroke the Terminator in the eye and trying to glare a hole into others head.
“Who hired you?” he asked blatantly and Slade sighed.
“You know better than to pry for information, Dick.”
Dick rolled his eyes.
“Worth a shot,” he wriggled a little trying to find a less painful position. With all the wrapping, his shoulder was starting to act up again.
Slade’s gaze fell down to his shoulder and soon enough several stripes fell a little looser. Dick breathed out a relived sigh.
“Thanks,” he moved his shoulder up and down several times, restarting the blood flow and looked back at Slade, grin firmly in place.
“So,” he cocked his head to the side. “Want to tell me what all this for?”
Slade looked amused, crouched before sprawled out Dick he was a far call from intimidating mercenary. His posture was relaxed and apart from tight wrappings, holding Dicks body in place, there was no other torture devices in the room. Dick checked. So nothing involving body harm. At least, for now.
“Well, you see…” Slade leaned closer and brushed some locks out of Dick’s face. “My client wants Wayne to part with several secrets, so I’m hired to keep his son hostage for the time negotiations take place.”
Dick rolled his eyes and huffed.
“You know as well as I do, that Bruce will never part with those secrets. Not for me.”
Slade hummed, his hand still brushing Dicks forehead.
“That’s a shame. As I have a permission to do whatever I want to the hostage, to make Wayne reconsider.”
He smiled, hand pulling not that gently at Dick’s hair, and Dick stilled, something deeply horrified twisting in his gut.
“No…Slade, you won’t…”
‘Oh no, little bird, I will.”
“You can’t!” Dick cried out as he was roughly manhandled to the sitting position and then further up all the way over Slade’s shoulder. “You can’t Slade! You love me!”
Slade laughed under him, not bothered by Dick’s squirming and desperate cries. He opened the door and shut it behind them, stepping into the hall, Dick knew all too well. He groaned.
“I hope Bruce pays whatever your client wants…”
Slade chuckled climbing the stairs to the bedroom on the second floor.
“Me too, pretty bird me too.”
***
Bruce was losing his mind. As was the better part of his family. Dick was taken three days ago, and they still had now idea to where they were holding him.
It was easy to deal with Marcus, stupid man, deciding that it was good idea to threaten one of Bruce’s family members to get him to give up some company’s secrets. Bruce gave him shit and a nice beating and then a ride to prison. Still, this stupid bitch had apparently no brain cells and a lot of money to hire Deathstroke. Deathstroke had Dick in his clutches now for three days already. And they still didn’t find him.
Batman was losing his mind.
Slade had somewhat cordial relations with Nightwing, they even worked together from time to time, but he had no feelings for Richard Grayson. And now with his contractor behind the bars, who knows what he decide to do with his captive.
He could hurt Dick. Or even murder him. Because Dick wouldn’t give up his secret identity and endanger everyone.
So yes, Bruce was livid.
***
“C’mon Slade! That’s stupid and you know it! It’d been seven days already!”
Slade hummed, ignoring Dick squirming like a worm on the other coach across of him and continued to read his book.
Kid was right, honestly. His contractor stopped messaging him five and a half days ago, so he probably been apprehended by police. It didn’t mean that Slade’s contract ended though, so he ignored Dick, quite used to his husband’s pouting.
Dick, seeing that his pleas fell on deaf ears, huffed and stopped trying to wriggle out of his bonds.
“Fine, can you free me please?”
That got him a reaction. Slade looked up from his book at him, then to the clock on the wall and cocked an eyebrow.
Dick whined.
“C’mon, you know that I can’t lie for this long! I’m going mad here! I need movement!”
Slade heaved a sigh and put his book aside.
“You get your movement during PT, little bird. Your knee is still fucked up, if you forgot.”
Dick huffed and hid his head in the small mountain of pillows that were laid around him.
He mumbled: “I’m still going mad though…”
Slade sighed and got up, crouching before Dick and catching his chin between his hands.
“What do you want?” Dick nuzzled against his palm.
“Get me out?” he cracked open an eye. “I really hate to be grounded.”
Slade hummed, considering.
“No running off,” he helped Dick to sit up and other laughed.
“No running off.”
Slade nodded and ripped the bindings off. Dick hummed happily at the renewed range of motion, almost instantly making several elaborated stretches and contorting himself in different inhuman ways.
Satisfied, Dick leaped his arms around Slade’s neck, and the other picked him up effortlessly.
Humming contently, Dick rested his head in crook of Slade’s neck.
“Why should I ran, when you can just carry me anywhere I want?”
Slade stuttered a step and then laughed, looking down.
“I don’t know little bird. You tell me.”
Dick hummed and nuzzled others chin.
“Don’t know,” he smiled and punched Slade with his heel a bit. “Now get me out of here, you big bad mercenary.”
Slade, laughing, obliged.
***
They were meeting in the cave now. Almost two weeks after initial kidnapping there was, finally, a lead. Someone had seen the old looking man and his younger counterpart several days ago in Bludhaven. Who knows what Slade was thinking, bringing Dick back to his domain, maybe it was some sort of power play, a bait, thrown to Wayne family, they had no idea, but maybe there were still chances for Dick to be alive, and, as witness said, relatively unharmed.
So they were gearing up. All the bat flock going on a hunt.
They were nervous, of course. Who wouldn’t be? The best mercenary on earth had their son\brother\father in his clutches, though Damien out of everyone was strangely unbothered by the whole ordeal. That was confusing at best, but they let it slide.
So, the bat flock was heading to Bludhaven.
Bruce as batman landed on the fire escape of Dick’s apartment building, others close behind. His heart was hammering in his chest. He couldn’t be too late. Not again. Never again.
Silently opening the window, he slid inside the apartment and looked around. Everything appeared to be strangely normal. There was music playing in the kitchen and cautiously Batman headed there, dread pooling in his gut.
He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Dick was sitting at the table, knee still in the brace, and was eating something deliciously looking. He seemed relatively unharmed, healthy even. There was some tan to his skin and all in all he didn’t look like someone who had been held hostage by a mercenary for two weeks.
“Grayson,” he and Batman both startled, when Damien in his robin suit sans mask strode into the kitchen. “Looks like that man kept you in good health.”
Dick looked from his plate first at Bruce, shock written all over his face, then turned to Damien who now was sited on the next chair to him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, gaze switching once more, now to the others behind Bruce’s back.
“Did something happened?”
“You,” Jason strode forward and slammed his helmet on the table. “You were just held hostage for two weeks!”
“And?” Dick looked confuse, Jason – incredulous.
“By Deathstroke the Terminator! We thought he killed or at least maimed you by now!”
The realization lighted Dick’s features.
“Oh!” he turned to Batman. “That’s why you came here weapons blazing?”
Tim sighed and positioned himself on the chair across from Dick. Steph quietly slid next to him.
“Yes. What happened, how are you…” he did a once over and Dick smiled.
“How am I well and alive?”
Jason snorted and too sat down, relieve evident in his features.
“Yeah. I know you and Deathstroke have some shit going on, but I thought he wouldn’t care about your civilian id.”
Dick’s brows furrowed.
“Why wouldn’t he care about my civilian id?”
Jason waved his hand.
“You know, because he has no idea you are Nightwing?”
Dick opened his mouth, then realization hit him and he doubled laughing, startling by that everyone in the room except for Damien.
“Oh god, oh my god, I never told you didn’t I?”
“Told us what?” Batman growled finally finding his voice among sheer relief.
Dick spared him a quick glance.
“First,” he raised his hand. “Slade knows our identities for years now.”
“What?!”
Dick silenced the others.
“And second,” he grinned. “As my husband, he would never hurt me.”
There was a short moment of silence, before every person in the room started speaking.
“Your what?!”
Dick just laughed and shared an amused look with Damien, who rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a pleased upturn of his lips.
He found out years ago. He was his Batman’s Robin after all.
The best.