Chapter Text
The only thing Damian hated more than Galas was Drake; and the only thing he hated more than that? Galas with Drake.
First and foremost, the crowds of people were insufferable to be around, not to mention Father’s abruptly obvious personality change in order to hide his identity. Each guest cooed at Damian as if he was a mere child despite him being the grown age of ten years old.
The Gala he was currently at was incredibly worse because of the circumstances. Father had instructed him to stay with Drake and to not leave his side. Drake said it was to make sure Damian didn’t kill anyone for pinching his cheeks. Damian was sure it was Father’s way of punishing him. Either way, neither of them liked it and wished for it to end as quickly as possible.
“Oh, aren’t you dashing!” a woman exclaimed from behind him. Damian faced her with a scowl.
“Aw, you look so much like Brucie,” she cooed, reaching to touch Damian’s face.
He had been able to control himself from lashing out thus far but being treated like an infant was his last and final straw. Damian slapped her hand, hissing like Alfred The Cat after a bath.
Drake’s gaze instantly fell on him, glaring down with fury. It did not do much to deter Damian. Drake was underwhelming and idiotic-looking.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Fisher,” Drake apologized in his overly sweet saccharine voice. “Poor Damian missed his full night of sleep and he gets a bit agitated when tired.”
Damian opened his mouth to retort but was silenced by the fabric of Drake’s side. He had been shoved into something that undoubtedly looked like a brotherly embrace but was nothing but torture for Damian.
“He’ll feel better with some fresh air,” Drake assured before tugging him away.
Damian allowed it only because he wished to leave the Gala more than anything. He planned to make his escape once away from the party. No one but Drake would be there to stop him, practically securing the win.
The night’s breeze hit Damian’s face like a blanket of ice. In times like this, Damian missed living with his mother under the warmth of the sun. Gotham was gloomy 99% of the time; one of the many negatives of living with Father (another one being Drake).
“This is why Bruce makes me babysit you!” Tim snarled, shoving Damian. “Can you just act like a normal kid for once in your life?”
“Your so-called ‘normal’ would cause me to regress my intelligence and act like an insolent child. That is about as likely as you containing a spleen,” Damian retorted.
Drake huffed out a laugh accompanied by a smooth roll of the eyes. Damian was endlessly frustrated with the situation. He wanted to go home.
“God, you’re such a pain,” Drake barked. He gripped Damian’s wrist and dragged him along.
He was unaware of where they were going but Damian would rather die than be forced around by his pathetic excuse of a brother. He lashed, trying to free his wrist from the hold without making too much of a fuss as to draw other people’s attention. The last thing he wanted was for Father to be angry with him.
Drake kept his hand tightly clamped, ignoring the repeated jerks on his shoulder joint.
“Let,” Damian tugged, “me, go.”
Drake pivoted so quickly that Damian risked bumping straight into him. “I’m taking you away from the Gala. You should be happy.”
Damian opened his mouth to retort yet his eyes fell upon a looming figure instead. Just by the shadow, he could guess that it was a man, a rather fit one at that. He was holding something in his hand. At first, Damian thought it was a knife but upon further inspection, it was revealed to be a syringe. The figure bounded over to them going unnoticed due to Drake’s obliviousness.
“Drake–” Damian began, feeling something unsettling stir.
“No, I’m sick of your complaining. You’re such a brat–” Drake was cut off by a pinch on the side of his neck.
Damian watched as the third presence dawned on Drake. His face crumpled, looking horribly miserable at the realization of his mistake. The needle went in for no more than a few seconds before Drake’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he promptly passed out.
Damian reacted on instinct, moving to disarm the attacker. He was a strong weapon, even without his sword to aid him. The syringe was knocked out of the man’s grip with ease as Damian moved to leave him unconscious.
What he failed to calculate for was a second syringe.
Damian’s eyelids were nothing but rocks upon trying to pry them open. In fact, it was so difficult he wondered if they had been glued shut. He attempted to bring the palm of his hands to his face to wipe away the issue but he found something prevented him from doing so.
Damian let out a whimper, one that he was unequivocally embarrassed by, but uncontrollable nonetheless. With a powerful urge to understand the situation, he pried his eyes open. They burned from the contact with the open air and it made his vision blurry from the water that sprang to moisten them.
Even blurry, he noticed the room was dark. There was little sound, proving that he was either in a soundproof room or somewhere away from the city.
“Damian,” a voice whispered and for a moment, his train of thought reared off course.
It was unexpected to hear his name in such a situation. Damian looked down at himself, assuming he would see the familiar colours of Robin blurring together, however, he saw nothing but the partnered colours of black and white among a green tie. Right, he had come from a Gala as Damian Wayne, not as Robin.
“Damian, I need you to focus,” the voice prodded again. It sounded annoying, Damian didn’t like it.
He gave it his attention anyway, turning toward the sound. His vision came to him slowly, the water draining out of his eyes with each blink. The annoying voice in question belonged to Tim Drake which Damian could have guessed.
However, it was less annoying and more stomach-churning seeing your brother in chains and bound to the ceiling by his wrists. His toes, thankfully still bearing shoes, were hardly touching the ground.
Damian studied himself and determined he was in a similar situation though, he was not bound by chains but instead by rope. His feet were not even close to touching the ground.
“Hey, are you with me now?” Drake asked, sounding choked up.
“Yes,” Damian allowed, twisting to face him.
“There’s two perps,” Drake informed. “They’re going to be back soon so I need to make this fast.”
Damian nodded in understanding as much as he wanted to revolt.
“This isn’t a ‘hostage for money from Bruce’ situation. I already gave them his number, they don’t care. That means we were taken for different reasons and none of them are good. We’re on our own,” Drake said with a sharp look of malice in his gaze.
“You obviously have something you suggest we do,” Damian drawled, fully intending to listen.
Drake nodded. “They’ve underestimated you by tying you with rope. You need to get out and then–”
“Release you,” Damian finished.
“Yes,” Drake confirmed, “but wait until they have come and gone again. We can’t risk them seeing us.”
Damian took the plan in stride, already coming up with ideas. He figured if he dislocated his thumb, he could get out of one restraint and untie the other. The more strenuous issue would be getting Drake out of the chains. There were clasps on each of his wrists which needed a key to unlock. The only other option would be to pick the lock.
Damian looked over himself, trying to spot something he could use to pick a lock. He came up empty, even after considering the contents of his pockets. Drake was his next option so he analyzed him next, instantly noticing a pin on his suit. Damian would certainly be able to use that to pick a lock.
With an adequate plan in place, the only thing left to do was wait for the perpetrators to come in. Damian wasn’t sure if Tim planned to take them down but he assumed not. They were civilians as of now meaning fighting would greatly hinder their identity despite it being a tempting option.
The door to the room they were locked in shook for a moment before the telltale shriek of the hinges pierced his ears. The building was certainly old. In came a man, one unfamiliar to Damian, meaning this was not the one that took them in the first place. He didn’t speak but eyed the two of them as if they were trophies. It made Damian want to gag; Drake didn’t look too pleased either.
“Quiet now that your brother is awake, huh?” the man taunted, looking at Drake.
Drake didn’t say anything back, much to Damian’s dismay. He wanted the man to hurt.
“You are a pathetic excuse of a man,” Damian growled, trying not to tug on the ropes. If it was obvious that he would be strong enough to get out, they would lose their leverage.
The attention was quickly focused on him now, much to Drake’s clear dismay. Damian could see it on the other’s face.
“Oh,” the man gasped, more mocking than real surprise. “And I thought you were going to be the sweet one.”
“Braindead characters such as yourself tend to lack the means of thinking,” Damian retorted, refusing to shy away from the now-approaching predator.
“Hasn’t your daddy ever taught you to shut your mouth? I guess I wouldn’t expect anything less from Bruce Wayne,” the perpetrator sneered, inching closer to Damian’s face.
Damian tried to stay eerily still as if he were nothing but porcelain when fingers traced his jawline. He failed to suppress a bated breath and hissed when the hand clamped over his cheeks, squeezing so hard he could feel the pressure in his teeth.
“What a doll,” the man whispered.
Damian’s stomach dropped to his toes.
“Tired of me already?” Drake said, veering the man’s attention away.
Damian let out a sigh so slowly and methodically that it hardly made a noise. Drake was incredibly stupid but he couldn’t be more grateful.
“Oi!” a voice yelled from behind the door. “Get your ass in here!”
The man in the room with them took one last look, scanning them up and down, before retreating, shutting the creaky door on his way out.
Damian waited for a total of thirty seconds before gripping his thumb and dislocating the joint. He didn’t scream. Robins didn’t scream. He made quick work of slipping one wrist out of the ties, clenching his jaw at the tug of pain. With nimble fingers, he got to work on the knot tying his other wrist. It came untied within a minute and Damian rubbed his raw wrists with relief.
He bounded over to his brother, instantly reaching for the pin on his suit. To Drake’s credit, he didn’t so much as flinch. Damian gripped the needle between sweaty fingers and jabbed it into the keyhole. Drake didn’t say anything, only watching with hopeful anticipation.
They both audibly let out a sigh when a click of the lock coming undone sounded. The cuffs slipped off of Drake’s wrists. Damian stared with his mouth agape at the open wounds actively bleeding on his brother’s wrists. He had no idea how aggressively Drake had been struggling to have done this, but it was stupid.
“Damian, let’s go,” Drake ordered, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he argued but followed nonetheless.
They slipped out of the door, trying to ignore the shrill noise it made, hoping it didn’t alert their kidnappers. As they entered a hallway, both looked for a way out, finding a back door and agreeing to use that.
“Hey!” a deep voice cried.
Ground shaking stomps bounded toward them and all Damian could process was “ run”. The brothers shot out of the door so fast that part of the wood broke off along the side. Damian was close behind Drake, running with the same vigour, while the men who took them were not far behind.
Damian expected to get outside and be met with an alleyway, or at least someplace that looked like Gotham. This was not. It was too bright, too fresh, too green. They were in a forest filled with the smell of pine and sap with towering trees that failed to be good cover as it was just the trunks. The pine leaves were too far up to count as cover.
Among the adrenaline to get away, Damian didn’t even notice any injuries. The only thing he could focus on was getting away from the creeps that took them.
As soon as the men chasing them looked like they were struggling to keep up, Drake grabbed Damian’s wrist and changed directions. He was dragged through loops of trees and under shrubs. Damian assumed his brother was trying to get them lost enough to not be found.
Damian was considered to have very good stamina and annoyingly, so was Drake, yet even this run tired him out. There were a lot of factors to consider. First of all, he may have not been able to run at all but adrenaline kept him going. For all Damian knew, he hadn’t eaten for several days. They had no real idea of how long they had been held.
Damian couldn’t hear the perpetrators behind them anymore yet Drake continued to clasp onto his brother’s wrist like a vice and refused to stop running.
“Drake,” Damian panted, exasperated.
“Not yet,” Drake replied, knowing exactly why he was complaining. “I want to make sure we lose them for good.”
“They stopped running,” Damian reasoned.
“But they are still looking,” Drake snarled.
Damian clamped his mouth shut for the rest of the way.
They arrived at a heavier forested area among a sullen silence save for the birds chirping in the treetops. Once Drake freed him from his grasp, Damian collapsed against a stump and didn’t even have enough energy to glare. For a while, all the two could manage were strangled breaths.
“How’s your thumb?” Drake asked, breaking the silence.
Damian hissed at him like a feral cat. “I’m fine. I’ve had far worse injuries than this.” He then moved to relocate his thumb, pushing it back into place with an unsettling pop.
“ Excuse me for living! I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay, fuck,” Drake grumbled, peering at his bleeding wrists. Drake ripped a portion of his shirt, wrapping the wounds to stop the bleeding. “I hope to God these don’t get infected.”
“They probably will,” Damian drawled. “You don’t have a spleen.”
“You’ve mentioned,” Drake bit. “And thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Damian didn’t respond, finally taking the time to absorb his surroundings. There wasn’t much to look at, mostly trees, but he tried to gather some clues anyway. The sky was a deep blue, dotted with specks of clouds. This was very obviously not Gotham unless it was an off day. Even if it was Gotham, Damian didn’t know of such thick forests that existed there.
“I don’t think we’re in Gotham anymore,” Damian said.
“No,” Drake agreed. “I don’t think we are either.”
Drake patted himself down. “I have nothing.”
Damian did the same. “Neither do I.”
“Okay,” Drake gasped. “Okay, this is fine. First step, find water.”
Damian wordlessly followed.
Tim was trying not to freak out but that was beginning to be a very, very difficult task. Despite Damian hating his guts, he was trying to be brave for him. The kid was only ten and it was up to Tim to keep him safe from now on while they figured out where they were.
He gave himself something to do, that being finding water, just so he stopped panicking. Damian thankfully didn’t put up a fight and simply walked behind him with steady steps. Tim filled his lungs and then released the air in methodical patterns, using the silence of having to listen for water to actually breathe.
Unfortunately, the quiet also gave him time to think some unwanted thoughts, like if his wrist wounds got infected. Hopefully, they would find water soon and he could clean them but if not – if they got infected – Tim was dead. He had no antibiotics to make up for his missing spleen and at the very least, he would become fevered. Tim couldn’t do that to Damian, he couldn’t just leave him alone. Dick would kill him; Bruce would kill him.
This was all Tim’s fault. If he hadn’t gotten mad at Damian, he would have been able to notice the man sneaking up on him. Bruce was probably pissed at him. He trusted Tim to keep Damian safe and he did anything but.
“Drake!” Damian yelped, sounding far too happy.
Tim looked toward the boy, following his pointed finger to a break in the forestry. It was a river . Now that he was actually paying attention, he could hear the beautiful rush of the freshwater.
“Yes!” Tim cheered, walking faster to the water.
As he got closer, he could see the divots in the stream creating perfect little waterfalls to scoop up the water.
Tim dipped his hands in and practically reeled at the refreshing chill of the temperature while it hit his fingertips. Damian did the same, scooping some of it up and pouring it into his mouth. Tim followed suit, humming at the feeling of the water dragging down his throat.
He carefully unwrapped his bloody wrists and placed them just under the running stream. The water was so cold it almost acted as a numbing agent while cleaning the wound. Of course, this didn’t mean Tim was off the hook for infections. The water could have had bacteria for all he knew, but it was better than nothing.
“We should follow the river,” Damian suggested. “Usually, it leads to civilization.”
“That is,” Tim thought it over, “actually a good idea.”
Damian scowled. “Of course it is.”
“But who knows how long that will take. We should keep an eye out for somewhere to sleep, preferably before it gets dark,” Tim said.
Damian surprisingly nodded. That was probably the nicest Damian had ever been to him. In fact, he was being extra nice after they had been kidnapped. Tim hoped that didn’t mean he was scared. If Damian started freaking out, it would make Tim want to freak out which was not a good thing for the older brother to do.
“Let’s move,” Tim instructed, plowing forward whilst wrapping his wrists back up. They felt a lot better after the pulsing heat of pain withered away from the cool water.
Damian once again followed. All that could be heard was the crunch of sticks and whatnot under their feet. Tim was forever grateful they still had their shoes. He was a little bit less grateful that he and Damian were still in their suits. Luckily they weren’t some obnoxious colour that made them stand out. Black and white was classic.
“What about there?” Damian asked, pointing over to an area beside him.
Tim looked over, studying the vicinity. “Too open I think. If the men sneak up behind a tree, they would have a perfectly clear shot.”
Damian’s eyes sank with something akin to worry hidden by a mask of confusion. “You think they are still looking for us?”
Tim winced. As soon as he found out the kidnappers didn’t want them for Bruce’s money, he realized how much danger they were in. That meant different motives and different means of escape. The way that man was touching Damian made Tim’s blood boil. He didn’t want to say anything because Damian was just a kid but it sounded like he needed to know. Damian needed to understand that they were bad men and sick in their heads to ever think about touching a child.
Tim took a grounding breath. “They took us not for money but for…pleasure,” he bit out, trying not to naw right through his lip. “They find this fun and they find doing horrible things to us fun. That’s why they probably won’t stop looking for a while. They know we’re in this forest and they know that we’ll have to sleep sometime.”
“Oh, I think I understand,” Damian informed, bowing his head.
“Okay,” Tim confirmed and left it at that.
It made Tim sick.
They continued walking downstream all whilst Tim tried to figure out where they were. He was unsure if they were still in America and would only find out upon talking to locals which were scarce in the middle of the forest. He debated trying to find a tree to sleep in. It would be hard considering there were only pine trees and few had branches low enough to reach, not to mention the stumps were not very thick.
It would be best to find a cave, hopefully one that didn’t have an animal living there, or some kind of overgrown area that provided cover. Tim prided himself with a vast amount of knowledge but surviving in the wilderness was fairly low on his skill set. Damian probably knew it a bit better considering he had to do all kinds of training while living with his mother but he also didn’t live in a pine forest.
“I am hungry,” Damian announced.
Tim shakily huffed out a puff of air. “I’m not sure what’s edible out here. We might have to kill something to eat.”
Damian whipped his head around to glare daggers at Tim. He looked furious if not horrified. “No!” he yelled, causing Tim to wince at the volume. “I do not eat meat. I will not kill anything and neither will you.”
“Damian…” Tim whispered, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.
“Do not touch me,” Damian snarled.
He turned away from Tim, walking further ahead of him. It made him anxious leaving Damian out of reach just in case anything were to happen but his brother was strong and trained. He could fend for himself just in time for Tim to get there and help.
Tim truly had no idea what he was going to do about the food situation. If he were with anyone else, he would kill the first animal they saw and cook it over a fire. But Damian had a particular trauma with animal deaths, so much so that he became a vegetarian. Finding food to fit his diet would be a huge challenge.
“What about this?” Tim said, gesturing over to a rocky cliff. There was a section that hung over creating a good shelter from the elements as well as providing cover from any unwanted eyes.
Damian looked over at the spot, pausing for a moment before nodding. He walked over wordlessly and scuffed his feet around, finding a place to sit. Tim followed, already scoping out the area to memorize their surroundings. It was going to get dark soon and Tim wanted to find something to eat before then. He stepped out from under their shelter, intending to scour the area for berries.
“Where are you going?” Damian asked. If Tim hadn’t known him for so long, he wouldn’t have been able to catch the worry in his voice.
“Just to see if I can find berries or something to eat. You stay here,” Tim ordered, expecting a fight.
Only, Damian just frowned and nodded, picking up a nearby stick to drag through the dirt, probably drawing something. Tim’s eyes lingered on the boy, watching as strokes filled with sadness etched into the dirt. He wished Dick was here.
Tim wanted his big brother; Damian needed his big brother.
Tim left without another word, stepping into a cleared portion of bush. He wished he wasn’t in a suit for the occasion but he was grateful he had pants. Without them, his legs would be shredded from the shrubbery.
Luckily, the trees provided shade so the heat wasn’t unbearable but the air was thick and so humid that Tim felt as though he was swimming through it. The sticky feeling of his skin caked with sweat and blood made him grimace.
Tim was careful while walking, making sure he didn’t make too much noise. Along the way, he picked off sections of bark on trees to lead him back to Damian.
To his surprise, hope coiled through his chest at the sight of blackberry bushes. There was a plentiful amount, much more than he had been expecting to find. Tim got to work, taking off his suit jacket and piling the freshly picked berries into the fabric. Once enough were picked, he scooped up his jacket and held it like a sack, carrying the food back to Damian.
This wasn’t going to last them and definitely not fill them up but it was better than nothing.
Damian perked up at the sound of Tim getting closer. He looked on edge, preparing to strike someone down. However, once he noticed it was Tim, Damian sagged down to the ground and sighed.
“I found blackberries,” Tim said, smiling at Damian’s wide childish eyes.
“You did?” he replied, getting up to inspect.
Tim laid out his jacket as an answer, showing the neat pile of berries he had gathered. Damian popped one into his mouth after a close inspection. Tim had half the mind to want to wash the fruit before eating it but his stomach felt so empty that he didn’t care.
The two ate the berries in silence. It became increasingly obvious that they hadn’t eaten in a while judging by the lack of chewing after the first bite.
As they finished the last of the food, the sun took its last breath amongst a sea of orange and the moon awoke.
Tim watched with a frown, already grieving the loss of light. Damian looked similarly although, he had a certain look of defeat that made Tim pity him.
Tim intended on staying up for the whole night to keep watch while Damian slept but one look at the boy’s wide eyes told him that sleep wasn’t going to be an easy feat.
“You can sleep, Damian. I’ll keep watch,” Tim affirmed, trying to coax him.
“I cannot,” Damian muttered.
Tim frowned. “Why?”
“I don’t– I do not wish to talk about it,” Damian said. Recently, they had Damian working on verbally expressing his feelings in a calm manner without blowing up and insulting everyone. Bruce had done a lot of work with him that Tim had yet to see until now.
“Okay,” Tim whispered. “That’s alright. Maybe just close your eyes and try?”
Damian hummed but didn’t even attempt to shut his eyes.
A quick flash of light was what really startled them. Tim ducked instinctually, motioning for Damian to do the same. Someone was in the forest with a flashlight and Tim had a fairly good guess on who it was.
The light was blinding, white and obnoxious, while it created shadows meant to appear in nightmares. Tim held his breath behind a large bush and made sure Damian was doing alright. He looked scared but not enough to bolt and attack which was enough for Tim.
“You see ‘em?” a gruff voice asked, breaking the tense silence.
Tim’s chest stuttered with poorly hidden anxiety. He had to clamp a hand over his mouth to quiet his heavy breathing. If their kidnappers caught them now, they would have no real chance of escaping and–
“No,” another man’s voice said. Tim let out a puff of air.
The light beaming in their eyes flickered away and grew distant as footsteps crunched away from them. The two stayed silent for another five minutes, determined to assure themselves that they were safe.
“Drake,” Damian whispered with a trembling tinny voice. His voice was so quiet it was hardly a whisper and merely his lips moving.
Tim reached for the other, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “They’re gone, we’re fine. You’re okay.”
“I know,” Damian said in a voice that held nothing but fear.
Tim humoured him anyway. “I know you know. I know, buddy.”
Damian looked as though he wanted a hug but Tim hesitated. They had never had the closest relationship and getting kidnapped and stuck in the middle of the woods didn’t magically fix their hatred for each other. Of course, if Damian reached out, Tim would recuperate the affection easily. They hated each other but he wasn’t an asshole.
Damian inched away from his brother and curled into a corner. All Tim could see was the shimmer of meek eyes peaking over the top of his bunched-up knees. He turned around to keep watch. If the kidnappers had gotten so close that their flashlights hit them, tonight was going to be far too dangerous to even think about sleeping. Tim doubted Damian would end up sleeping but he was determined to give him the option. The boy was only ten and Tim was sixteen, he could handle an all-nighter.
The rest of the night was spent full of fearful breaths and the lack of them when a light flashed in the distance. Thankfully, despite Tim’s heavy eyes, he didn’t fall asleep and they both survived the night without getting caught.
When the sun met their eyes again, Tim looked back at Damian and found the boy huddled into himself with tightly closed eyes. He didn’t look like he was having a good sleep but it was sleep nonetheless. Tim lacked both.
“Drake?” Damian muttered as he woke up from sunlight beaming in his eyes.
“I’m here,” Tim assured. “We made it to morning.”
“I am hungry,” Damian complained, sleepily rubbing at his eyes.
Tim huffed. “Yeah, alright brat. We’ll find something.”