Dramatis Personae

Fortunately, Nightwing seemed to get done what he could and haul the Shadow out of the danger in the building. Ren's eyes fluttered open as he let Cu fade back into blue flame on his face. "It's not like that, no. The person in reality is still right where they were." He took a breath, steadying himself as he looked over the Shadow, who was still whimpering on the ground.

"Hey," his voice was quiet and gentle as he knelt down in front of them. "You're gonna be alright now." He smiled warmly, placing a hand on their shoulder; though the smile strained slightly when the Shadow flinched away with a small cry of panic. "Easy...it's okay." He closed his eyes again, focusing on Cu's power and sending it through his arm into the Shadow, just enough to reinforce their own will to live. "There you go."

Especially not if the source of the toxin is still in the area, which they have no way of knowing in here.

That's galling.

But they've done all they can. With any luck Bruce is already working on this problem and might even find this victim soon if he hasn't already; after all, the shadow-Bat had led them directly here. In all likelihood it's completely disconnected from the actual Batman, but Dick will take whatever scrap of comfort he can find right now.

He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until it escaped him in a quiet exhale against Dick's lips. The second kiss was no less gentle than the first, but it carried something different now. There was certainty in it. Choice.

Dick had chosen him.

Jason's hand slipped from Dick's shoulder to the side of his neck, his touch tentative, almost as though he still couldn't quite believe he was allowed. He deepened the kiss only slightly before drawing back again, unwilling to rush something he'd imagined for far too long, and considering the way this moment had started, it didn't feel right to push further now.

When they finally pulled back, there was almost no space between them. Jason pressed his forehead to Dick's, his thumb lazily grazing the nape of Dick's neck. "We should—" Jason hesitated, partly torn by Dick's proximity to him, by the way he could now know how his lips felt on his own, and by wanting more. But a different kind of hunger pulled at him too as his body recovered from what his mind had done to him.

It was incredible.

It was perfect.

It wasn't anything close to long enough.

By the time Jason pulled back again Dick was breathless, cheeks pink. There was barely any space separating them now; he could feel Jason's breath against his lips, the warmth of Jason's body seeping through both their clothes…god, he was aching just from the proximity, a bone-deep longing that had him realizing just how long it had been since he'd been this close to anyone.

Hell, forget the kiss, forget anything more; Dick's entire body longed just to be held, and to hold in return.

Even as much as he wanted it, anything more would simply be a bonus.

His breath caught for the slightest moment as Jason spoke, mind reeling for half a second on the possible things that might follow that statement. Should what? Move? Stop? Talk about it? All were valid possibilities, but which one would it be?

Neither, as it turned out.

The sudden rumble of Jason's cut through the moment like a butter knife through a soap bubble, making Dick blink for a second before laughing softly. He caressed Jason's cheek, pressing a reassuring kiss to Jason's lips. This was a good thing as far as Dick was concerned; Jason's stomach growling meant he was hungry, which was a definite improvement on how he'd been when Dick had arrived.

"Let's get something to eat," he suggested, "and then…"

Dick leaned into him for barely a second, his weight settling against Jason's side as though his drugged legs had simply given out. Anyone watching would see exactly what Dick intended them to see: a captive relying on the nearest person to keep him upright. Dick corrected himself almost immediately, letting his body go slack again before anyone could question the act, but Jason had already felt it. It wasn't a signal. It wasn't planned. It was instinct. Jason's grip tightened around Dick's arm under the guise of another impatient yank, steadying him without drawing attention.

"Move."

One of the guards snorted. "Told you he's half gone."

Jason shrugged and hated himself for it. "Less trouble that way."

The corridor was long, lined with heavy steel doors and lit by flickering fluorescent lights that buzzed overhead. Jason took everything in without appearing to—door numbers, the locks, the distance to the stairwell they'd passed. This place had been built to hold people. Permanently, if necessary.

They stopped outside a reinforced door near the end of the hall. One of the guards unlocked it and shoved it open with his shoulder.

"Cell six. Wash him up. Boss wants him presentable before the buyers get another look."

Jason gave a lazy nod. "Yeah."

He pushed Dick inside.

The room was small and bare. A drain sat in the middle of the concrete floor, with a rust-stained sink bolted to one wall and a narrow metal bench beside a dented locker. No clean clothes. Nothing to cover Dick up with.

"Don't take too long," one of the guards called.

The heavy door slammed shut behind them, and a lock clicked into place.

Jason didn't move until the guards' footsteps faded down the hallway. He listened another few seconds, making sure no one had lingered outside, before finally letting out a slow breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Concerning.

Dick stumbled his way down the hall, letting himself be dragged into stumbling every so often to maintain the illusion. Behind him he could hear the snorts of laughter from the guards, the occasional chuckle, the murmured comments about his body that he'd heard far too often in his life.

Hopefully they wouldn't come into cell six with him.

Cell six, as it turned out, looked like something out of a Wolfenstein game: bare concrete, rusty old sink, a bench, a locker, a drain in the floor…the shower cell, clearly. Given the appearance, Dick's heart sank; the chances of there being any kind of clothes in that battered old locker were somewhere between slim and none, which meant that either he'd be put back into the ones he was currently wearing - which was the best case scenario - or left to shiver without any - which was…not.

The door slammed shut behind them, the lock clicking. To Dick's relief the guards were on the other side, their footsteps fading out of earshot in the otherwise ringing silence. That left him alone with Jason, the tension easing from his shoulders right up until Jason snapped at him.

Dick's shoulders tensed right back up as he finally looked up at Jason, reading the concern hiding beneath the anger. Anger at what, he had no idea. Possibly it was part of the cover Jason was maintaining here, or possibly it was irritation at having someone else stepping on what was clearly his investigation; either way, Dick felt a slight pang of guilt at risking both their missions here.

But not enough of one to apologize for it.

then bruce explains it and he frowns, more confused than afraid for a moment.

he imagined himself worthless after causing so much damage. surely they wanted him dead, but to... ask him to be returned? for what, punishment?

he can't recall anything like that in his admittedly short time under erik the red. his life as a whole has been far shorter than predicted.

"i... am not sure. i was a servant for a powerful man. he and the others i lived with were different from me, feathered people with some bird... qualities. i ran away after my powers... began showing, because they terrified me."

there's a pause, and the boy still looks quite bewildered by the reveal.

"I don't know, either," he says, reaching out to rest a hand on Gabriel's shoulder, "but I'm not sending you back to them. No matter what happens, I will not let them take you back, and that's a promise. But I do need you to tell me everything you can about them. The kind of technology they have, their abilities, that kind of thing. Can you do that?"

He doesn't want to tell Gabriel about the subtle threat he's been given, but the boy is hardly stupid; he can probably reason that out himself based on his own knowledge of his former masters, even with the confusion about why they want him back. And as to that particular detail, Bruce has a guess or two that he'll keep to himself for now.

alfred had remained alongside bruce in his vigil, expression impassive. the boy is indeed where the butler has pointed out, sat in one of the armchairs, a book being read with another sat by his side on the table, already finished. it had been one of the few pleasures he had learned to have back in his days in the small colony, and it had been one thing he had decided to indulge, here.

when the two men show up in the room, he blinks up, looking right at them, eyes aglow as usual, none the wiser.

"bruce? mr. pennyworth?"

It's just a shame he's going to interrupt what is undoubtedly a moment of peace for the boy with this.

That feeling only gets stronger once he sees Gabriel contentedly settled in one of the armchairs with a book in his lap. The last thing he wants is to frighten the boy with news that his former captors have tracked him down, but leaving Gabriel in the dark is arguably even more dangerous; with Gabriel's power so closely tied to his emotions, the shock of discovering that secret could have fairly drastic consequences, even with as little as Bruce understands the boy's abilities thus far.

With a sigh he pulls another chair over to sit across from Gabriel, looking serious. "…Before I say anything else, I want you to understand something," he says. "I have absolutely no intentions of sending you away or letting anything hurt you. You are welcome here for as long as you want to stay, no matter what happens, and I promise you I will keep you safe. Alright?"

hence why they had chosen not to go in guns blazing for the slave that had run away. even if he had shown incredible potential in his escape.

"you have not purchased anything of my master's interest, but you have acquired it. it is a young servant of ours," the man seems unbothered by the concept of making a child into an object. like it is a natural thing to do, where he comes from. "and my master would very much like it returned without resorting to drastic measures."

it is a threat, obviously. one delivered very calmly, through that same uncanny smile, just as he turns to leave.

It.

That one single word cements the determination in Bruce's mind: these people are not laying a single finger - or claw, or talon, or whatever is hiding under those gloves - on Gabriel. To refer to anyone as a thing is terrible as far as Bruce is concerned, but a child?

Absolutely unforgivable.

The threat does not go unnoticed, either, though Bruce maintains his usual wide-eyed public persona as he watches the messenger leave. Drastic measures, is it? He'll have to increase security on the manor now they've tracked Gabriel this far. The Cave as well; it's well shielded from both technology and magic, but these people and their capabilities are as yet unknown to him.

Only once the door has closed behind the messenger and Bruce has watched him walk the entire quarter-mile down the drive to the gate does he turn to Alfred. "…Where is Gabriel right now?" He hasn't pressed the boy about where he came from before, but it looks like he'll have no choice now.