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Peter’s POV
The cold was clinging to Peter’s spine, not willing to retreat due to his uncomfortably damp clothes. The air was humid with a murky smell. It was the worst place he had ever woken up in. His pounding head wasn’t helping either. Not even outdoor stakeouts had been as bad. Admittedly he hadn't been kidnapped and cuffed to a chair then.
“Where is this dreary place?” came a familiar and very obnoxious voice.
Peter was startled. Whose voice was this? He couldn’t quite place it.
Slowly he blinked his heavy eyes open, waiting until they adjusted to the dim atmosphere. The lights flickered ominously at irregular intervals as if they were fighting to stay alive, as was Peter, trying to get his breaths under control in this unfamiliar situation. Well at least he was not alone, indicated by the mumbling at his back.
“I can’t see anything in here. Someone go fix the lights, otherwise they will give me a headache!”
Finally, Peter was able to make out where the ridiculous complaints were coming from. To his right sat Bruce Wayne scowling at the ceiling in all his glory.
That’s right , Peter’s memory came back slowly.
Neal and Peter had been investigating the theft of an expensive artwork from Wayne Enterprises, where he met Bruce Wayne and some of his kids. Yet he couldn’t remember when they got abducted. Well, at least Mr. Wayne seemed to be a bit disconnected from the current situation, since he was asking after the lights and not why someone had so kindly bound him to a chair.
“Shut it, Brucie !” Peter twitched when an annoyed voice growled behind him, “My hangover is killing me. Can’t deal with ya annoying mug right now. Holy mother Austen.”
“ Language , random person I’ve been kidnapped with.” A chipper voice piped up from the back of the basement chamber, ”Awe wait, shit.”
Peter tried to look around but only managed to turn his head slightly.
At least someone acknowledged their rather concerning circumstances. Even though Peter was a White Collar FBI agent, it did not mean that he was accustomed to kidnapping cases or being kidnapped himself. His suspects smuggled art and tried to stay under the radar, not whatever the mastermind of this situation seemed to want to achieve.
“ Urgh, not you as well. Brucie and Richie…” Peter shivered, he could feel the annoyance radiating from directly behind him.
“That’s me! ⸜( ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ ” The chipper voice chirped back.
“Himbo two, don’t test me! I will blow up your apartment once we are outta here.”
“ Rude . Dad, tell him he isn’t allowed to do that.” Peter noted that ‘Himbo two’ or ‘Richie’-- probably another of the Wayne children– didn’t sound any less amused than before.
“Do you hear this? I think my grave is calling, it's just as damp as this shithole but with less annoying, blubbering idiots.” Peter did not want to think about graves, thank you.
“I don’t think Alfred would make your favorite food for a while if you were to take that particular route,” Bruce Wayne piped up, “Speaking of Alfred, he would be so appalled. If I ever were to turn a room of the mansion into a dungeon like this and didn’t even properly look after it.” He made a show of eying the bland walls up and down, “They haven’t even properly decorated yet. I should hire someone to decorate a few rooms back home, and make several themed rooms!”
Richie cheerfully threw in a “If Alfie agrees”.
Brucie nodded “Of course. Only if Alfred agrees.”
Who were these crazy people? He did not think he was introduced to anyone from the Wayne entourage other than Bruce Wayne.
However if he remembered correctly they were intercepted shortly before entering the Waynes’ limousine. His head was pounding from that anesthesia induced headache. Before entering the vehicle, there were Mr. Wayne, two of his kids and the bodyguard. Of course Neal had been amiably chatting with Mr. Wayne. So there should be one more kid here?
Oh wait, Neal!
“ Neal ! Neal, are you there?” Peter tried to turn his head in a bout of anxiety to get a better look at the room.
“...”
Unfortunately they were seated in a school desk formation with Peter in the first row. His restraints were tight enough that he couldn’t quite manage to turn around.
Even though he couldn’t find him, he could see the other three male hostages–he recognized one of them as Wayne’s child–plus Wayne and the bodyguard in his peripheral. The burly man sat directly behind him.
Wayne regarded him curiously from beside him but he could neither see Wayne’s other kid nor Neal. Had they been able to escape? Had they been separated?!
Suddenly a smooth voice, Neal’s smooth voice sounded from the back of the room. “...Don’t panic, Peter. I’m right behind you. I’m fine.”
“Neal. Oh thank god, you are here!” In his relief he disregarded several snorts, coming from all around. Neal was alright.
Once his nerves finally settled, it was time to address the other issue in this room, besides the kidnapping. Nothing he could do about that, besides trying to reassure the hostages, keeping them from panicking and possibly annoying the kidnappers into using drastic measures–
“Anyone wanna start introducing themselves? I’d hate to kill a random person just so the Himbo-duo can shut up.” Peter’s thought process was interrupted by the gruff voice of the bodyguard–the voice was a sure identifier.
Nonetheless it was pretty strange that the bodyguard acted like…this.
“You literally know everyone in here,” Wayne’s kid, the one he could see–the CEO kid, Kim? Tom? No, Tim!-- scoffed.
“Replacement, you just ruined my fun,” The bodyguard growled.
“Anytime, bucket head,” Tim shot back.
“Tch, now is not the time for your inane squabbles,” a new voice said. Peter sighed. That was the youngest kid’s voice. So they hadn’t been separated. Good to know!
“‘Squabbles’, the demon says. I will let you know, we do not squabble … we quibble.”
“Die, Todd.” What was it with these kids and over the top behavior?
…‘The bodyguard’-- Todd?-- was probably a friend of the family then.
Todd gasped in mock hurt. “Been there, done that. Now I don’t have to pay taxes.” …Why was this Peter’s life?
“Everyone, please calm down. Is anyone hurt?” Peter asked. At least everyone was quiet now. The rapid answers of everyone were unexpected, but appreciated.
“Just peachy.” That was Todd.
“Fine,” came the youngest’scurt reply.
“Been better…," Tim groaned.
“Perfectly whelmed,” Richie chirped. Whelmed, what did that mean?
“Why Peter, I have never been better,” Neal answered as well. That was every–
“...Kill me now,” Todd groaned. “Pretty please?”
–one but Wayne… What was that non-sequitur? Anyhow, Peter was slightly confused; he could have sworn when he met Wayne there had been only two of his children accompanying him… where had the third kid hostage (boy hostage; so close Peter) come from?
“When someone fixes the lights, then I’ll be splendid. Why wouldn’t I be?” Bruce smiled brightly at Peter, while having a slightly confused look on his face.
“Just making sure you are not hurt. We were kidnapped after all.”, Peter kept his tone calm and reassuring, “I know it can be traumatizing, but the FBI is very competent--”
He came to a stop when eyeing the utter bewilderment on Brucie’s face.
“How is this a bad thing?” Brucie asked.
“Can you repeat that?” Peter scrunched his eyebrow in confusion.
“I said and I quote, ‘how is this a bad thing?’.” Brucie iterated slowly.
“Is being kidnapped not a bad thing?” What did the billionaire mean?
“No? It is a good thing.”
“...What? Being kidnapped?”
“Yes and no. Or as the Germans would say: ‘Jein’.” Richie smiled dizzily. “Finally I can party the rest of the month! But it sucks it wasn’t Ozzy.”
“Exactly, chum.” Brucie nods again,”We reached our quota for the month.”
“What?”, Peter felt like a broken record. They only managed to puzzle him more, “Quota, what quota?” What did a quota have to do with being kidnapped?
A heavy sigh drew his gaze to the right side. There in the second row sat Tim.
“Quota, as in a statistic on how often they get kidnapped in a month. Including today they both achieved their usual score.”Tim explained, bored, “Don’t ask them about quotas. Their brain will melt.”
Peter just gaped at the lanky teenager.
“Timmy, you are so smart! And be assured our brain won’t actually melt. It’s just something he likes to say.” Richie made a move to stand up, presumably to pet his brother’s hair or something. Unfortunately, he had forgotten that he was confined to a chair and nearly toppled over. Only an amazing show of balancing on one chair leg saved him from face planting on the stone floor. The chair landed back on four legs with a loud thud.
Not that Peter saw, he only heard a dull thud and a “Whoops, forgot I was bound to the chair.”
But the kidnapper probably saw, since he had just been opening the door. The guy froze and looked at the ceiling as if it held the wonders of the world. An almost inaudible “Why did I kidnap them again?” could be heard, “Precious money, that’s why.”
The kidnapper, a sleazy guy in a cheap suit threw out his arms and declared: “Welcome Mr Wayne, kids and whoever you are”-he pointed at Peter-”Recently I have been short on money. So here we are.”
He was met with blank looks.
“Don’t let my countenance confuse you. I am a professional kidnapper and I don’t shy away from violence.” The kidnapper wrung his hands nervously. He was slightly unnerved by the unwavering blank looks.
“I have a body count of nine. And I have never been caught.” The guy proclaimed proudly.
Finally some life returned to his hostages. There gazes had been really, really -
“Hah lame! Mine’s 97,” Todd scoffed. No one noticed Bruce’s eye twitch.
“Too many,” Richie chirped. Wait what?
“I don’t remember, more than 20,” the youngest contemplated. Richie grimaced.
“A few.” Tim deadpanned.
“Sorry, why should I have counted them?” Brucie asked, confused. “But I guess roughly 40?”
The kidnapper and Peter shared a disbelieving look.
Peter didn’t hear Neal say anything, he was oddly quiet. Well Peter hadn’t added anything himself either.
The kidnapper broke out into cold sweat. T-that could not be right. No way! Are the Wayne’s a mafia family?
…wait…
… the Wayne family …
The first thing you learn when looking them up is that they are precious… precious and stupid . It wasn’t meant to be offensive, they just were.
OK, so.
The kidnapper took a deep breath. “I meant bodycount as in the amount of people I kidnapped. What did you all mean?”
Peter, who wasn’t quite up to date with Gotham’s gossip blurted out: “Obviously, you meant that.” He looked at the remaining hostages he could see and saw a ‘sheepish’ look on Wayne’s face. The two kids–Tim and Damian– just rolled their eyes.
Tim stated dead inside, “As I said… a few people.”
Peter blinked. Should he count this as a confession? But before he could give his opinion the rest spoke up.
Richie was as cheerful as ever “I meant the times I’ve been kidnapped by someone. Y’know, the boy hostage? Ring a bell?”
Brucie stated, shameless as he was “Obviously the amount of people I have slept with.”
Peter’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. 40?! 40 who he had…yeah, ok no. Stop thinking about it.
The kidnapper almost facepalmed. Those two were kind of expected. “Ok what about you two? I’m curious what the 97 is about. The weight you can lift? Your body weight? Your age?” He added jokingly.
The youngest Wayne leveled a scathing glare at the curious kidnapper “I meant the meaning the word is officially used for, you illiterate.” Todd nodded sagely along.
“I should never have let your mother raise you.” Brucie grimaced. His kids all recognized what he really wanted to say.
However the kidnapper and Peter had huge question marks written all over their faces.
“Murder count, you dimwits.” Todd sneered.
“...”, Peter blinked.
“...”, the kidnapper blinked.
“WHAT?!” they both exclaimed simultaneously.
“My mother is not a good person. Neither is my maternal grandfather.” Damian calmly explained.
“I don’t really have an excuse.” Todd shrugged, “Well, besides the toxic swimming pool…that Damian’s grandfather no longer has. Since we stole it.”
“Ok please shut up. Har har, very funny. You are all hilarious. I’d ask how you stole a swimming pool, but I won’t since I do not want to continue this conversation.” The kidnapper crossed his arms, “Now, I will call the GCPD and get that ransom.”
He took out a phone and dialed the number.
“GCPD. Yes, Scarecrow is on the loose, we heard the screams. Yes, we also know our Mayor is a supervillain. What’s your emergency?”, a bored voice sounded from the emergency line.
Peter blue screened, the Gotham Mayor was a supervillain? What?
“I… T-the Wayne’s-” the kidnapper started confused but was immediately interrupted by the operator.
“And yes we have heard of the Wayne-Malone conspiracy and we chose to ignore it for our and the citizens well-being.”
“...I- what? I kidnapped the Wayne’s. Send me the ransom and I will let them live.”
“...Ah. Please wait, I will direct you to the ‘Wayne hostage’-line. Please stand by.” The operator was replaced by an elevator jingle. After a few uncomfortable minutes it stopped, the line had connected.
“....”, the silence was broken by the occasional screams.
“Hello?”, the kidnapper asked.
“...Who is this?”, a scratchy voice sounded.
“I was told this is the Hostage line? I want money.”
“I do not possess money. I can supply an abundance of hostages however.”
“I have the Waynes and…what?”
“...Oh that Hostage line.”, the voice sighed heavily. “If you hurt them you will regret it, you should just let them go. Make it easier on yourself. They are annoying enough to be around. The sooner you let them go the sooner you can forget about them. It’s a win-win situation, no?”
“...”
“Think about it. I will call back in a few minutes.” They hung up.
“ They hung up . What the hell is going on!?!”
“Don’t worry.” Todd patted him consolingly on the shoulder, ”Dr. Crane does not really care. He won’t come after you unlike Ozzy whenever one of us is kidnapped. Especially Richie, they have some kinda special bond.”
The kidnappers' eyes widened. A swift strike had him unconscious on the ground.
After everyone was freed, Peter turned around. He wanted to make sure Neal was really fine. But…Neal was there. But Richie was missing? Where was he?
“Peter, funny story.”, Neal chirped. And what? He sounded exactly like Richie.
What was going on?
“Welcome to the Wayne family?”, Neal/Richie grimaced, “No one will believe you if you tell them anything that happened today…please don’t be mad?”