#when in gotham by gaslight he spotted bruce right away

[sky-berrie]

How would the batboys react to a female SO with Paranoid Personality Disorder?

Hi there!

Thanks so much for the ask. I hope this is okay :)

-Sky

Bruce

As a person living with paranoid personality disorder, you might be terrified that people are out to harm you. Your place of residence, Gotham city, does nothing but exacerbate your paranoid thought patterns, since criminals run rampant through the streets. It’s hard to distinguish between paranoid thoughts and substantiated concerns. Is that sketchy person with the full face covering one of Black Mask’s False Face Society members sent to abduct you, or are they just a conscientious citizen taking extra precautions to avoid contracting or transmitting the COVID virus? Being in a state of constant fear prevents you from living your life to the fullest. Luckily, your S/O happens to be Batman in his free time.

Bruce eases your mind just with his presence. He’s probably the smartest, strongest, and most resourceful person you know and being with him makes you feel safe. Bruce is the kind of person who you’d blindly listen to during an emergency – if he told you to jump out of a burning plane, you’d do it without a second thought because he’s never let you down in the past and you’re confident that he never will in the future. If you’re feeling fearful in public, Bruce will grab your hand or put an arm around you securely and soothingly whisper in your ear that he’s right here and there’s nothing to worry about. Having paranoid thoughts means that it’s difficult to reason with you, so you probably aren’t convinced that there is no threat, but you do experience some relief from his soft touch and gentle words. He’ll ask if you want to leave and he’ll take you to your safe space. If you’re feeling fearful in private, Bruce will hold you close and rub your back to reduce your anxiety. If you’re by yourself and start to have those racing, panicked paranoid thoughts, you can always call Bruce. He’ll drop whatever he is doing and come take care of you.

Bruce will teach you self defense to help you feel more comfortable around people. He won’t arm you with any dangerous weapons because he doesn’t want an innocent person to get hurt if you get spooked. Bruce will ask if you want to move into the manor since it has strong security and comes with several vigilantes. If you would rather stay at your own place, Bruce will install a variety of safety systems to make you feel protected. He’ll even spend most nights at your place so you can sleep peacefully. Overall, Bruce is like your lifeline. He’ll know just what to do to help you through your difficult thoughts.

Dick

Dick is a social butterfly who’s had his fair share of romantic partners in the past so it’s natural for you to feel jealous when he spends time with other people. Dick will adamantly declare that he’s with you and only you. At first you might try to ignore the prickly feeling of jealousy because you don’t want to come off as a possessive S/O, but the clues accumulate and suggest that he’s cheating on you. For example, he’ll rarely spend the night with you. You’ll catch him sneaking into bed at ungodly hours of the morning. When confronted, he’ll make up an excuse that he just went to get a drink of water or use the bathroom. You’ll spot bruises scattered over his chest knowing you definitely did not leave those there. He’ll play it off as a gym injury.

When you raise your suspicions, Dick is hesitant to explain. You take this as confirmation of infidelity and you’re ready to walk out. At that point, he has no choice but to come clean about his secret identity as Nightwing. That sounds farfetched and you likely think he’s a pathological liar. Finally, Dick proves it to you and explains that he didn’t want you to be dragged into his dangerous nightlife. While you accept that as the truth, you’ll always wonder if he’s hiding more secrets. Furthermore, you’re probably pissed that he was gaslighting you. Dick will do everything he can to make it up to you. He’ll apologize profusely and in extravagant ways, be more transparent, and shower you with excessive love and affection. It might take a long time, but eventually Dick will worm his way back into your good graces.

It doesn’t take long for the green-eyed monster to rear its’ ugly head again. Now that you’re in the know, you’re hyperaware of the attractive vigilantes that Dick works with and it’s emotionally draining to be jealous all the time. You don’t want to be the type of person who tries to control their partner’s life, but when the suffering becomes too much to bear, you might ask him to stop seeing certain people. Dick will calmly assure you that there isn’t anything going on with any of his vigilante friends. If that doesn’t appease you, he’ll suggest that you hang out with the team and get to know them. He hopes that you’ll see that there aren’t any romantic feelings between them. Whatever you do, please don’t force him to choose between you and his hero life. It will tear him apart.

Jason

Trust is very important to Jason. He doesn’t trust many people as it is and needs a S/O who he can trust wholeheartedly and who will trust him in return. He believes that this relationship will fail if you don’t have confidence in each other. He’ll take it personally if you distrust him. Jason will get defensive and frustrated if you accuse him of being unfaithful, especially if you don’t have a shred of evidence to support your claims. He’ll be offended and deeply hurt that you think so negatively of him but once he’s had some time to cool off, he’ll be able to process everything more objectively. He’ll accept that you can’t control the way you feel. You’d explained it to him once that you do trust him, but there’s a separate voice in your head that tells you otherwise. Jason won’t give up on you though. He’ll come up with a proposition - he’ll agree to install a tracking app on his phone so you can monitor his whereabouts if you’ll promise to work on learning to trust him, whether it be via professional psychotherapy or reading self-help books.

On the other hand, if Jason is one of the only people you trust, he’ll be elated to know that you two have built such a strong connection. It’ll be easy to confide in him because he’ll gladly listen to your worried thoughts with no judgement. At first, he’ll reassure you that nothing bad is going to happen to you – he’s Red Hood and nobody is going to pull anything on you if they value their life. Eventually he’ll realize that trying to reason with you isn’t helpful so he’ll stick to active listening when you’re experiencing paranoid thoughts.

However, if Jason is fresh out of the pit and emotionally unstable, you two will probably bond over your mutual distrust and cynicism about the world. Although you and Jason will get along exceptionally well, it’s possible that your irrational thoughts may feed each other’s paranoia and exacerbate the feelings of mistrust and suspicion. If you find yourself unable to let things go, feel free to vent away when you’re with Jason. He is the king of holding grudges, so he’ll probably support you and even join in on trash talking that person with you when you’re angry. Learning to forgive and forget is something you and Jason can work on together. In a way, it brings you two closer together since you understand each other on a level that others can’t begin to comprehend.

Tim

Tim very compassionate and patient; however, he’s afraid of triggering you so he’s often walking on eggshells around you. He just wants to be the perfect supportive S/O for you and doesn’t want to mess up the relationship. His worst offense (in your eyes) is using ambiguous language that lends to multiple interpretations. For example, he might innocently compliment your clothes/hair/makeup and you might assume that he only likes you for your appearance or that he’s implying that you’re vain for wanting to look nice. The moment you shoot him daggers, he’s realized his mistake and starts to furiously backpedal. He tries to explain himself, but he usually ends up digging himself a deeper hole. Eventually, he gets better at expressing his thoughts carefully so that they can’t be misconstrued.

Tim diligently tries to learn your other triggers and how to help. When you’re stuck in a cycle of paranoid thoughts, Tim will get you to focus on what’s real instead of trying to make you see sense. He’ll help you relax by walking you through breathing exercises, playing soothing music, or whatever strategies you find helpful.

Tim isn’t proud of this, but he’s resorted to deceiving you when necessary. For instance, if you’re experiencing paranoid thought patterns and want to be alone, Tim will hesitantly leave, but he’ll probably secretly monitor you only because he’s worried about your safety. If you’re afraid that others are reading your mind, he might pretend that he invented an anti-mindreading helmet to ease your suspicions. He knows you would feel betrayed if you ever found out about his dishonesty, but he reasons that your safety and comfort are more important in the moment.

Damian

Arguments with Damian are brutal. No matter how insignificant the disagreement is, Damian refuses to back down when he believes he’s right. Paired with your own stubbornness and contentiousness, these quarrels generally result in an impasse. Eventually your anger subsides and the depression sinks in. You might assume that Damian doesn’t love you anymore and that fight was the end of your relationship. Maybe you start packing your belongings to move out right away. Damian comes up behind you and asks what you’re doing. When you tell him that you’re leaving because he doesn’t want you anymore, he’s instantly remorseful. He takes your bags out of your hands and proceeds to pull you in close as he tells you how much he loves you. He assures you that two people can disagree and still love each other.

Damian doesn’t want to argue with you and he certainly doesn’t want to see you upset so he’ll always excuse himself before the argument becomes too heated. He hopes that some time apart will allow you both to calm down and come to a compromise, but it’s never that simple. Most of the time, you’ll need a third-party mediator, like a therapist, to resolve your dispute. The act of seeking out a therapist will be a huge accomplishment for your relationship. Damian likes his privacy and doesn’t want someone else in his business and you might be afraid to share intimate information with a stranger in fear that it will be used against you. Nevertheless, you both want to make this relationship work, so you’ll continue to seek help.

Damian has a habit of being blunt. He doesn’t mean to criticize or insult you – in his mind, he is only stating the facts or his opinion for the purpose of helping you improve. Despite his goodhearted intentions, it’s easy for you to take his comments the wrong way and perceive it as a personal attack. If he sees that his remarks have upset you, he’ll acknowledge all the positive aspects of your performance. Still, you might cling to the disparaging comments and ignore the praise. Going forward, Damian will try to be more encouraging and constructive and will only express feedback if you invite him to do so.

#batfam headcanons #batfam x y/n #batfam x reader #batboys headcanons #batboys x reader #batboys x y/n #bruce wayne headcanon #dick grayson headcanon #jason todd headcanon #tim drake headcanon #batfamily headcanons #batfamily x y/n #batfamily x reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #time drake #Damian Wayne #robinchicklets

[avengersassemble-fics]

You Again

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an: lmao LISTEN do i know its been two years since this was updated?? yes BUT ya know the people ask and the people shall receive lol feel free to catch up if ya want. also!! if you're invested in this pls bare with me on the links, my blog was changed in 2019, but I fixed the master list links so use that or search on the blog! be careful.. things aren’t always what they appear ;)

We’ve been together long enough for me to figure it out

The sentence flowed out of her red stained lips easily which threw everyone for a loop, surprised glances were tossed around the group. Barry’s mouth formed an O shape and Diana’s brows raised as she glanced between you and Bruce, whose angry eyes were locked on the smirking Selina Kyle. Bruce’s hand locked onto her arm and started pulling her away, leaving his team behind and Diana cleared her throat.

“Right then, let’s. . Get back.”

Her sympathetic eyes locked onto your face, which had a blank expression and led everyone back to the plane. It was strangely quiet, except for Barry who spoke quickly to Clark about something, “And I told him, all I did was push people over and run away, but he didn’t believe me! So..”

With Alfred’s help the plane almost completely piloted itself, Diana didn’t have to do much for it to return to the safe house. As it neared, she flipped a few switches to conceal the aircraft, and landed the plane just outside the familiar abandoned building. The engines slowed to a hummed noise, and everyone got up from their seats - everyone except for you. Barry passed you first but paused, which made Diana press her elbow into his back to make him move along. Clark stopped beside you, and placed a hand on your shoulder carefully, which caused you to look up from your pensive state, a small hmm leaving your lips.

“You wanna come inside?” He asked. You looked from his stare to your hands, and sighed.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Clark smiled sadly at you, “Not too much of a choice.”

You laughed at his honesty. It wasn’t actual laughter, but he recognized the sarcasm laced in it. The half smile, the way you shook your head, and you finally stood. He let you walk off first and into the light drizzle of rain. Each step the pair took further from the ship, the ground beneath it began to descend. You didn’t even need to look behind you, Bruce was ever the brilliant man for that detail too.

Tonight you were learning quite a bit from him. Just like before.

When Clark and you joined the rest of the group, the chatter quieted. Barry was attempting to locate food in the kitchen, and Diana stood straighter from leaning against the wall near it. She smiled sheepishly at you, and Clark left from your side. You looked at the computer in the room, and was the one to ask the dreaded question.

“When is he going to be here?”

Diana glanced at Clark for a moment, who only shrugged his shoulders, “We’re. . . Not sure.”

You nodded, and found yourself drawn to the couch, and planted yourself there on one side. Tonight made everything much more clear for you about the breakup, about those last few months of your relationship with Bruce. It wasn’t the Batman revelation that made the split happen, no it was something much worse. Something that happened just a couple months after that.

Work had gotten busier for you. That wasn’t to say you weren’t successful during your relationship with Bruce, he didn’t play into that. You were successful before you met Bruce, but somehow in those last few weeks things had exploded for your business. You found yourself swamped in work but it was good, it was so good for you and your career. But with it, and with Bruce’s new found vigilantism, you began to see less and less of one another.

He stopped sending flowers, he stopped sending those cute emails like he would at random times in the day, you heard from him less and less. But it wasn’t all his fault, it fell on you as well. Some dinners were cancelled, calls were missed, and texts unsent. It wasn’t on purpose, it just happened. But you didn’t want it to. You never wanted it to.

One night, you remembered the rain and how hard it fell that night, you drove out to see him, in that house by the lake you often wanted to call home. You did, kind of, you stayed there for most nights during the week, but not so much anymore. It was hard to see past the sheet of rain as you pulled into the long waved driveway. But you did it. You parked behind his car and switched the engine off, and squinted into the glass windows. All the lights were on of course, but there was no sign of him.

You had to fling the door open and grab your purse and rush inside. You fumbled with your key and slid it into the lock and let yourself in, but it didn’t matter, you were completely drenched. As you shut the door behind you and wiped some of the water from your face, you heard the tap of feet come down the hallway. But it wasn’t Bruce’s, Alfred came around the corner, and looked shocked to see you.

“Hey Al,” you greeted, and smiled at him.

“I keep telling him to pull the car in if he’s expecting you,” he casually said. You set your purse down and removed your wet jacket, and Alfred was quick to grab it from you.

“Oh he wasn’t expecting me I just thought I’d surprise him,” you said, “is he..?”

“I’m afraid he is,” Alfred replied, already knowing the question. You nodded and started towards the bedroom you shared with Bruce. You didn’t know what you were going to find out that night.

You were pulled from your thoughts when the door opened, everyone looked to it and weren’t surprised to see Bruce enter the room. He looked nervous, everyone could see it, and you just kept your arms rested on your legs, and stared at him.

Bruce let the door close behind him as he took a couple steps into the room. He looked between Clark, Diana, and you. Barry was eating something behind the group in the kitchen, and wasn’t paying too much attention. Clark and Diana stood behind the couch, arms crossed in front of them, but Diana was the first to break the silence.

“Do you care to tell us what’s going on, Bruce?” she asked.

Bruce glanced your way again, but you had averted your gaze to the wall, “I’ve been in contact with Selina about what’s going on, after the Arkham break out,” he stated very carefully.

“Only after?” Clark asked. Bruce narrowed his eyes at him, but you sat there and your stomach turned.

“For this matter, yes,” he said honestly. But Clark knew this wasn’t the answer you had hoped for. He looked at your shoulders tense, as did Bruce. You just continued to rub your hands together.

“Well, what does she know?” Diana pressed.

“The mayor’s office has covered up the fact that all of Arkham’s inmates were broken out,” he said, “not escaped. Someone initiated it. She doesn’t know who this guy is, but he’s planning some kind of siege on the city,” he paused, “he’s only starting with Gotham. Metropolis, Central City, Star City, they’re all going to be targeted.”

Silence filled the room. Diana looked down at her feet and Clark up to the ceiling for a moment. Barry was fully paying attention at this point, and shifted his weight from one leg to another, “Shouldn’t we be getting more guys in on this then? Anyone?”

“I know a lead in Star City,” Bruce said, “but getting him in may be difficult.”

“It’s a start,” Clark said. There was a nodded agreement amongst them, and Diana looked to you once more. She motioned for Clark and Barry to follow her out of the room. Clark followed, pushing Barry along in front of him, who exclaimed his confusion.

That left Bruce and you alone in the open. He had his hands twisted in his jacket pockets and looked at his feet. You finally broke your stare from the wall and looked at him. You both didn’t say anything, and you could feel the sting in your eyes. It was funny, you had told yourself just 6 months ago you wouldn’t cry over Bruce Wayne ever again. Yet here you were.

“What did she mean by it,” you asked in almost a whisper. But he heard you. He just didn’t know how to reply. His silence though bothered you.

“What did she mean by it, Bruce,” you said a little stronger now. That made him finally look up and meet your gaze.

“We’ve been. . . Intimate a few times,” he said, “nothing more than that.”

You nodded, a hurt smirk on your face, “For how long.”

Bruce took a step forward, “(Y/N)-”

“Dont fucking gaslight me,” you said, standing from the couch and pointed at him, “tell me the truth. For how long.”

“Fine! You really wanna know?” He yelled, and put his hands on hips.

“Yes! I want to fucking know!”

“Over a year! There! Are you fucking happy?”

You blinked at him as your jaw dropped a little. Over a year. You broke up only 13 months ago. That could only mean. . . You couldn’t even finish the thought, but his face gave you the answer you never wanted to hear.

“Is that why you pushed me away,” you whispered, “because-”

“Yes,” he breathed, “I. . . Couldn’t bear the thought that I had done it. And I couldn’t admit it to you.”

A single tear fell down your cheek. You shook your head as you focused on a spot on the floor, “Did you. .  In the house did you-”

“Yes,” he mumbled, “a couple of times, yes.”

“A couple,” you stopped yourself, “in the bed that. . . that we would-”

“Yes,” he finished for you. Silence fell over you both as you two began to process what he was sharing, every gruesome detail. Tears were on the brim of your eyes, and Bruce looked on sadly. He tried to take a step closer to you, and you moved away to the end of the couch.

“What do you think-”

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, “I’m so sorry. I loved you, I still love you-”

“No,” you cut him off this time, “you don’t do that to someone you love.”

“Please just let me explain-”

“No,” you cut him off again, and took another step back, “no you don’t get to explain anything to me.”

Bruce stopped in his tracks, and watched you glance over him one time, and then you turned away from him. And in that moment, he felt like he lost you all over again. He watched you walk away, just like he did over a year ago. And it still broke his heart.

You made it to your room and shut the door very softly. You had managed to hold the tears in but couldn’t any longer. They slid down your cheeks and neck and you stared at the bed before you. The thought of last night came into your mind and something in you snapped. You practically tore the clothing off your body and threw it into a corner of the room, it would go forgotten for awhile. You took your time picking out shorts and a basic tee to throw on when you looked over at the bed. Your skin burned just looking at the sheets and covers on it.

Frantically, you tore every piece of bedding off of it and threw it in the same pile as the clothes. Tears clouded your vision as you worked on peeling each dirty memory from the bed, until it was bare. And you were bare. A quiet sob left your body and you covered your mouth with your hand, and eased yourself onto the ground. You pulled your legs to your chest and leaned against the bed. Tears just slid down your cheeks, and you sat there. Alone. Quiet.

There was a soft knock at the door, but you didn’t bother to acknowledge it. However, that didn’t stop the person from pushing your door open. From the corner of your eye, you saw the tall figure, who tried to look for some kind of sign they could come in. The best you could offer was a glance, and your face scrunching up in another cry. A plea.

Clark entered your room and shut the door behind him. He hurried over to you and sat beside you and that’s when you started to cry once more. His right arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaned into his side. Your body shook from the cries, and he wrapped his left arm around you to soften the gasps. His chin rested above your head as you burrowed yourself more and more into him.

He sat there with you until you started to calm down. Until the gasps stopped, until your sniffles disappeared, and until you released your legs from your grasp. He tilted his head to get a look at you, and all he could see were those (e/c/l) pensive eyes staring at the wall.

“Stay here,” we whispered. You nodded in response and he carefully detached himself from you. As he stood, you watched as he entered your bathroom and entered the closet in there. He was gone for just a few moments before he reappeared with a fresh set of sheets, and new comforter. He didn’t say anything as he worked around you to fit the sheets on, dress the pillows in new covers, and smooth the comforter over the bed. You didn’t make eye contact with him again until he kneeled before you, and rested his arms on his legs.

“Come on,” he whispered, and held a hand out for you. You looked from his face to his hand, and hesitated only for a moment to take it. Clark pulled you up from the floor, and with his strong arms he helped you climb into bed, and under the covers.

He offered a small smile, and you still gripped his hand. He turned as if to leave, but the fact you didn’t let go of his hand pulled his attention back to you.

“Can you stay for a bit longer, Kent?” You whispered it to him, but he heard you.

He would always hear you.

He nodded and crawled over you so he sat beside you. You sat there quietly for a few moments before you spoke again.

“Did you hear?”

You played with the blanket covering you, and Clark sighed, “I did. . . I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “I know you can’t help it,” you smiled sadly to yourself, “I just,” you laughed a bit, but this time he could hear that hurt, “Bruce he was the first one that I let into my life, after..”

You trailed off, and Clark frowned, but you didn’t look at him. You just kept playing with the fabric of the blanket.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You glanced over your shoulder a bit, and then focused back on the blanket you played with. You moved a bit, shimmied down the bed and Clark couldn’t help but smile at your movements. You proceeded to lay your head in his lap, and he carefully moved his arm so it rested behind your back. You were positioned so that you stared ahead at the door, and Clark instinctively started to gently run his fingers over your hair.

He remembered vividly the last time he did this with you. Before you went off for college, before he disappeared from your life. He sat in this same position, and you rested your head in his lap and fell asleep. It would be the last time you saw him for years. But not the last time he would see you.

“Clark,” you suddenly called out.

“Yes?” he asked. You twisted a bit so your head laid straight up in his lap and you could meet his gaze.

You bit your lip a bit as you wondered about your question, “After you left. . . Did you ever come back?”

There was something in your still wet eyes, and they looked at him in a way he hadn’t seen himself in years. You were looking for the truth, it was something you needed to know. Clark cleared his throat and shifted a bit back towards the headboard.

“I did,” he admitted, “a couple of times, but. . . You were gone by then. And your mom she wouldn’t-”

“She never told me,” you said quietly.

Clark nodded, “I saw you once,” he paused and you looked at him in shock, “in Metropolis. Sitting outside a restaurant.”

That was enough to get you back sitting up, and facing him completely now, “You saw me?”

He nodded, “You were reading Jane Eyre, your favorite, the same copy your father gave you. You had this blue dress on and I saw you from the other side of the street, couldn’t miss you,” he smiled a bit to himself, and you looked at him with sad eyes, “I was going to go over, but then I saw Bruce join you, and you two kissed and I thought. . . You’d be better off not knowing I was there.”

You smiled sadly at him and then suddenly you had moved to lay down. Clark’s arm wrapped down your back as you cushioned yourself into his side. You didn’t say anything and neither did he. Why you felt the need to hug onto his side was beyond him, but Clark didn’t budge the rest of that night. You needed someone there with you, and if you needed it to be him then he would be there.

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this is the old tag list y’all I cannot believe im doing this to you, if you wanna be removed just let me know im cackling im so sorry

@panic-angel3314 @dutifullyfuriousnerd @mrsemmaevanswriting @fourtristattoos @offlikeadirty-shirt@barrel-racing-lover @sexyvixen7 @bless-my-demons @sarcastic-ohohoh @whovianayesha@neohhetric @my-dccomic-dreams @hellomistressj @avengersgirllorianna @spunky-89@dammitkyloben @topthis808 @theboldandthebootyful @andtheytoldustotellyouhello @amandakwoodstock @brooke-supernatural16 @kissingwintergoodbye @missthang2734 @random-fandom-lady @supernaturaldean67 @crimesolversherlock​ @lunaticgurly @sweetiele-ash

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fic #clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent fic #Bruce Wayne x you #Clark Kent x you #batman x reader #batman fic #superman x reader #superman fic #batman v superman fic #batman #superman

[fidothefinch]

Playing House - Ch 1: Welcome Home

He shifted the duffle bag higher over his shoulder and walked on, toward the back of the dealership building. “I’m here, just like you asked,” Dick said, raising his voice. “Alone. I have your mon—”

He stopped dead in his tracks as car headlights flicked on, directly ahead of him.

This wasn’t a ransom drop-off.

Read more on Ao3

This chapter fills the Whumptober 2020 prompt for Day 2: kidnapping. I have planned on writing about five prompts into this story, but who knows?

Overall warnings for this story: kidnapping, nonconsensual restraints, attempted nonconsensual drugging, domestic abuse, using family members as hostages, forced infantilism (not the kinky kind), some form of gaslighting, and the antagonist uses some “parenting phrases” that may be triggering for some folks (counting down, for example)

Warnings for this chapter: all of the above, plus ransom demands, being threatened with a gun, non-consensual non-sexual kissing (not on the lips), (the word “sugar,” as in “give me some sugar,” has a familiar affection connotation rather than a sexual one where I am from (southern US); I am warning for it regardless)

Dick’s feet hit the pavement as hard as the rain.

“Tim! Damian!”

There were no answers. A few people taking shelter from the weather in a nearby pavilion glanced over, but nobody said anything. This was Gotham, after all.

Dick’s jacket was soaked through, but he didn’t stop long enough to take it off. He wiped water out of his eyes and peered into the foggy weather around him. There was an open gazebo smack-dab in the center of the park, and he raced to it so he could get a better look.

His feet slid on the wet floor when he got inside, but he wasted no time pulling out his phone. While it rang, he searched the park again, in all directions, as though there were a chance the two of them had left their bags under a picnic shelter to play a demented game of hide-and-seek and would pop out from behind a tree, cackling.

He turned Tim’s broken camera over in his hands. No way he would have left it; it was new, a gift for his birthday.

He was so focused on his search he didn’t notice, at first, when Bruce answered the phone. He snapped back to reality with a sharp, “Richard. Report.”

“They’re gone.” He was panting from his sprint through the park. “I’ve looked everywhere, and they’re gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

“They left all of their stuff at our pavilion. Tim left his camera – the lens is cracked. I found it on the ground a few feet away.” He had to stop to catch his breath, and he swiped his soaked hair back off his forehead.

“Have you tried calling them?”

“Nobody answered.”

“I’ll have Alfred try again from the secure line. When did you last see them?”

“We had just finished setting out the food. I saw an old friend from school and we got talking, and when I got back they were gone.” His breath hitched when he saw two figures running down the path ahead of him. “Wait. I think I see them.”

Without hesitation, he ran after the figures. “Tim! Damian!”

They didn’t answer, but that was typical. As Dick got closer, though, he realized with a heavy heart it wasn’t his brothers. The two joggers hurried past him without a second glance.

“Dick?”

“It wasn’t them.”

A sound caught his attention. A familiar tune, one he had heard chirping through the thin walls of the manor countless times. He tuned out Bruce and followed the sound of Damian’s ringtone, hope building in his chest.

He found Damian’s cell phone, and that hope plummeted.

He reached into the weeds and pulled out the device. The screen was cracked, but he could clearly make out the caller ID across the screen. He hung up his own phone to answer Damian’s.

“Master Damian?”

“It’s me, Alfred,” Dick answered, voice flat.

“I think Tim and Damian have been abducted.”

xXx

Twelve hours later, Dick pulled his vehicle into a used car dealership’s parking lot. He scanned the lot as he pulled through, but didn’t find any signs of life. The shadows were still; the night silent. He seemed to be alone.

“I want to talk to Richard,” the kidnapper had said through a voice modifier. Bruce had spluttered a refusal, but Dick didn’t hesitate to answer with, “I’m here.”

Dick found a spot to park, but hesitated before opening the door. He rested a hand on the seat next to him, where a stuffed black duffel bag waited.

“Bring $100,000 in unmarked fifty-dollar bills. No consecutive serial numbers. Pick it up from different banks and accounts. Come alone.”

Dick hoisted the bag over his shoulder, wincing as its weight dug in. It was heavy, and nearly dragged him off-balance as he exited his car. His breath fogged in the night’s chill, and his car door shutting sounded like a nail in a coffin.

“Don’t involve the police,” the kidnapper had said. “If I see a single cop get involved in the case, I’ll kill one of the boys. And I’ll let you decide which.”

Batman was around here, somewhere. Dick looked from the corner of his eye, and spotted a flash of movement from a rooftop not too far away. If they weren’t able to catch the criminal tonight, they would still be able to collect enough evidence to put him away.

But the most important thing was getting Tim and Damian back.

“We need proof they’re still alive.”

“Oh, I can help with that.” Dick and Bruce exchanged a worried look over the phone speaker as footsteps sounded over the other end. A door creaked open. Then, “Timmy, honey, say something for your dad?”

The distinctive sound of bedsprings squeaking. “Bruce?”

“See? Safe and sound, as long as you follow my rules.”

There didn’t seem to be anybody at the meeting place. “Hello?” Dick called out.

No response. He shifted the duffle bag higher over his shoulder and walked on, toward the back of the dealership building. “I’m here, just like you asked,” Dick said, raising his voice. “Alone. I have your mon—”

He stopped dead in his tracks as car headlights flicked on, directly ahead of him.

This wasn’t a ransom drop-off.

He dropped the duffel bag to the ground and backed up, but he couldn’t outrun a car. Wheels squealed on the pavement as the car lurched forward and took a sharp turn, cornering Dick against the brick wall. The trunk of the car popped open, and the streetlights glinted off the barrel of a gun.

“If you ever want to see your brothers again, you’ll get inside right now.”

It was a woman.

It was all the thought he had to process before a warning shot buried in the brick wall next to him, spitting dust and shrapnel at his face. He blinked and coughed, ducking to avoid a second shot.

“Get in right now! Don’t make me count!”

Weird choice of words. When he looked up, Batman had crept into the parking lot, and waited behind a car to pounce.

“One!”

Dick looked over the car, using his shock and fear as an excuse for his hesitation. There was no license plate, no identifying marks. He suspected it was a car from the lot itself. The woman wore black clothing; none of her skin or hair showed.

“Two!”

They didn’t know enough to identify the kidnapper; even if they were able to catch her, they wouldn’t be able to find Tim and Damian on their own. There was a chance she didn’t intend to take Dick to the same place, either.

Dick made eye contact with Batman, across the lot. Batman’s mouth was a hard flat line.

“Two and a half!” the woman shouted, through grit teeth.

Dick raised his hands. “Don’t hurt them,” he pleaded. “I’m coming.”

He rose to a full stand and shifted to the side, toward the trunk. The woman turned to point the gun at the back of the car while he climbed inside.

It was clean, at least.

She barely waited long enough for him to get both feet inside before she slammed the accelerator, and the trunk slammed shut over Dick’s head.

xXx

He felt the car swerve through city streets for what he estimated was twenty minutes, before they pulled onto a highway and drove for another hour or two. He reached out to smash one of the car’s taillights, but found them blocked with an extra layer of sheet metal. He used his hands to search the darkness for the switch that would open the trunk from the inside, but, predictably, this was missing, too.

She changed cars nearly two hours after they began their journey, forcing Dick’s wrists and ankles into two sets of leather cuffs that buckled behind his back. He felt sick to his stomach when he realized they were soft from use. She let him sit in the back seat, this time, with the assurance that the child lock was engaged and any “shenanigans” would be met with severe punishment. After she buckled him into the seat, she put a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. The lenses had been taped over; he was effectively blindfolded.

They drove another two hours. Dick worried his bottom lip with his teeth the entire car ride.

xXx

“Dick!”

“Tim?”

The sunglasses were ripped from his face, and he stumbled in the sudden light flooding the room.

It was a relatively small space, with two identical twin-sized beds set against opposite, pastel-blue walls. A dresser and desk took up most of the far wall. The lone window, above the desk, was boarded over.

Tim was lying in one of the beds. He wore similar cuffs to Dick’s, except his were attached to the metal headboard, keeping him pinned back. There were dark circles under his eyes, but Dick couldn’t find much else wrong with him on his first look-over.

“What are you doing here?” Tim asked.

Dick ignored the question, trying and failing to get closer to his little brother. “Are you hurt?”

“Timmy,” the woman behind Dick said, saccharine voice strained with the effort of pulling Dick toward the opposite twin bed.

Tim stiffened. His eyes tracked over Dick’s shoulder.

“You kicked your sheets down again. How many times do I have to tell you?” she admonished. “If you do it again, you’ll get time-out.”

“You’re crazy,” Tim said. “And I’m an adult.” He scowled at the look Dick shot to him. “Shut up, Dick.”

“Young man, you’re already in trouble.” The woman pushed Dick down onto the opposite bed. “Language like that is not allowed under my roof.”

“Then let us go.”

“That’s not how families act.” She pinned Dick down with a hand on his chest, and Dick got his first good look at her. She looked to be around her mid-thirties. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and her face was still round with youthfulness, even if there were the beginnings of creases around her eyes and mouth. Her makeup reminded Dick of old Hollywood movies.

As Dick studied her, she pulled something out of her pocket. When she smiled, it was sweet and warm. “Open up, sweetheart.”

Dick eyed the pill. He couldn’t tell what it was. “Uh. No, thanks.”

“Take the medicine and you’ll get some sugar.”

Dick recoiled. “No.”

She sighed. “The longer we have to do this, the longer it will be until I can check on your baby brother.”

Dick glanced around the room again. There were no signs Damian had even been there.

Tim seemed to know what he was looking for without him having to voice it. “I haven’t seen him since the park.”

“Hush, Timmy. You’re supposed to be asleep.” The sharp words were tempered by her soft expression. When she looked down at Dick, she held up three fingers. “I’ll give you to the count of three, and if you don’t take your medicine, I will have to put you in time-out, too.”

The counting again. It wasn’t unusual for Gotham’s villains to have their themes, but Dick had to admit this one was new.

“One.”

Maybe one of Calendar Man’s cousins? Dick fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Two.”

“Dick,” Tim said, voice quiet. Dick looked past the woman’s hand and met Tim’s gaze.

Tim shook his head, just slightly.

The woman’s face was slowly getting more red, but her expression was frozen. “Thr—”

Dick opened his mouth.

“Oh!” Her smile stretched wider, revealing pearly white teeth. “Thank you for doing what I asked.” She placed the pill on his tongue and waited expectantly for Dick to swallow it.

Dick pocketed it under his tongue and pretended to swallow.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The woman didn’t seem too interested in waiting for the drugs to take effect. She got busy unlocking the cuffs behind Dick’s back and reattaching them to the bedframe in a mirror of Tim’s position. When she had finished, she stood up, admiring her work. “Would you like me to tuck you in, Richie?”

Dick’s face screwed up at the nickname. Ew. “No.”

She seemed determined to ignore him, reaching down and pulling the navy blue sheets over his legs and torso, tucking them into the sides tight enough they practically pinned him to the mattress.

“Where is Damian?” Dick asked.

“Dami’s in the nursery, where he’s supposed to be.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Shh, Richie.” She bent down at the foot of his bed, and a night light flicked on. “It’s time for bed.”

She leaned down over his face, and Dick cringed back.

She pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.

He froze.

She stood up again and walked over to Tim, tucking him in again and repeating the gesture. Tim twisted his head away, and received a sharp slap in retaliation. Where she kissed his forehead she left a smudge of bright red lipstick.

The woman walked to the door and waited in the open doorway. “Goodnight, boys,” she said, sickeningly sweet. “Sweet dreams.”

The door locked behind her.

#whumptober2020 #no. 2 #kidnapping #dc #batfam #fido writes #dick grayson #warnings are under the cut #whumptober #was this inspired by an episode or two of criminal minds? absolutely. #playing house fic