You had been training for this your entire life. Or at least your entire life with Bruce Wayne. He had taken you in from a young age. He had seen your potential and rescued you from an abusive situation. He took you from your lowest; from a place where you were unappreciated, to one where you were loved and cherished. Bruce had trained you hard over the years, helping to build up your abilities brick by brick. He had given you something to work towards. And you had finally gotten there. But you felt like you had to repay him. Like you had to live up to the expectations cast down on you from the generations of previous Robins. 

An anxious feeling simmered in your chest as you shadowed Batman through the city. This was your first patrol, and the anxiety had forged together with this unexplainable excitement that bubbled up inside you. It was exhilarating. Darting across the rooftops was all that you had imagined yet so much more at the same time. It was supposed to be a nice, quiet and easy night based on recent activity in Gotham. But of course nothing is ever simple and soon you and Bruce were dashing over to the other side of the city to stop some thieves from robbing a high end jewellery store. 

You skidded to a halt at the sound of smashing glass under the blaring of the sirens. You could see the thieves halfway down the street ahead of you, their bags full as they sprinted away. You were hot on their heels forcing your legs to go faster as you tried to keep up with Bruce and to catch them. The pair turned a corner down an alleyway. This was your chance. You knew the streets well; you had been studying them as part of your training. So, instead of following them you continued on straight before taking a left coming out in front of them. 

The thieves didn’t notice you at first and proceeded to hop the fence before landing straight in front of you. You readied your weapon and adopted a fighting stance like you had been taught. You were ready to fight. But the minute they straightened up, you were hit with an immense sense of fear. 

They looked like your parents. 

Tall and lean, the figures now resembled your birth parents as they loomed before you. Their words rang in your ears, telling you how much of a disappointment you were. How you were a waste of space. Ungrateful. You froze. Lost for a moment as you were struck with all of your childhood trauma. But then you caught a glimpse of Batman’s cape and were reminded of why you were out here. Reminded that you were loved. 

Raising you weapon you lunged forwards first. Landing a quick blow to the shorter criminal’s side, you tackled them down to the ground. Very quickly, Batman joined in the fight and the alley was filled with a flurry of punches and rouge kicks. It didn’t take long before the two were on the ground and in handcuffs, ready for the GCPD to take away. 

Batman straightened and placed his hands on his hips as he took in your work. He then turned to you, his gaze impossible to tell from under his mask. He could tell that there was a slight hint of fear underlying the look you had plastered on your face. So, he crouched down to your level, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He could tell that something was up, but he wasn’t quite sure what. 

You swallowed thickly before asking nervously “I….i did good, right?”

Bruce’s face softened almost sadly. He knew that you had been through a lot. Far too much for anyone to go through, let alone a child. “So good, kiddo.”

“...you mean it?”

He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before deciding to just pull you straight into a hug. “Of course. I’m so, so proud of you. You did amazing, kiddo. Better than I could have ever asked for.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

<- DAY FOURTEEN ⛧ DAY SIXTEEN ->

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TAGS:

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“Lando!”

The whisper sounded urgent, but Lando’s head hurt too much to pay attention. If he stayed asleep he could ignore the throbbing pains all over his body, the pressure in his skull, and the way his wrists were stuck together over his belly. The pillow beneath his head was hard for some reason, and he didn’t seem to have a blanket, but sleep sounded much too good for him to care.

“Lando! Please! You’ve gotta wake up!”

Oscar’s panicked voice broke through his sleepy haze, and he flinched awake, hissing in pain, his body far too sluggish to bolt upright and shuffle closer to his voice.

“Osc?” he asked, blinking against the dull bulb on the ceiling directly above him. He tried to move his head towards his boyfriend’s voice, but the room spun, and he screwed up his eyes again as his stomach rolled dangerously. “Fuck, I feel like shit.”

The air smelled musty, the mattress rock hard and cold beneath him. Had he slept on the floor? Was he hungover? Why wasn’t Oscar helping him?

“Can you sit up?” He didn’t like the urgency in the alpha’s voice. Were they late for something?

“Can ya gimme a hand?” he groaned, trying to bring his hands up to help, but they were not cooperating. The effort made his sore body scream, and he whined. “M’not feeling good.”

“I can’t, Lan. I’m kinda tied up here.”

“What the fuck?” Lando spat, fighting his instincts to stay still. He tried to move his arms to help him roll over, but something was digging into his wrists that was stopping him. They were ziptied together.

He twisted himself onto his right side so he could finally get his eyes on Osc, and quickly wanted to throw up, both from the sight and sensations the movement sent through his body.

And the realisation of their situation.

Oscar’s suit jacket was gone, as were his shoes and watch. His white shirt and suit pants crumpled and smeared with dirt and flecks of blood. Not much blood, thank god, meaning no stab or gunshot wounds, but enough to show he’d sustained a hefty beating before they’d been put in there. Lando’s omega whimpered, knowing his alpha was hurt and he couldn’t do anything.

His arms were ziptied to a metal ring on the brick wall above his head, his socked feet ziptied together, and he sat on the hard, stone floor with his back against the wall, knees up close to his chest.

Dark bruises were blooming over the visible skin, his neck, wrists, as well as cuts on his face, scrapes from being roughly handled. Lando’s instincts screamed to comfort. Given the throbbing aches all over his own body, Lando figured he looked much the same. There was no doubt worse hidden beneath their clothes. Lando’s ribs fucking stung for one.

“Not to alarm you, but we got drugged and kidnapped.” Oscar’s voice was shaking.

“That would explain a lot.” His hard pillow and mattress were, in fact, the rough, cold floor. The room was small, its low ceiling, no windows, and exposed bricks made Lando think of creepy basements in American houses in films. There were no stairs, though, just a bolted metal door on the wall to his left.

“I can’t move any closer. Can you sit up?” Osc asked again.

“I’ll try,” he said.

His shoeless feet were also ziptied, but unlike Oscar, Lando wasn’t tied to anything. He was lying on the floor in the middle of the room, like whoever did this could only be bothered to tie one of them to the wall. The same as Osc, his suit jacket, watch, and shoes were missing, leaving him in his shirt, trousers, and socks. His belt was gone too, which meant Oscar’s probably was as well; he just couldn’t see from his current angle.

His entire body protested as he tried to move, the room spinning violently once more. Rolling onto his front, his tied arms stretched out in front of him, he pulled them back towards him, awkwardly shuffling himself towards Oscar, bending his knees and leaning on his right hip, using his legs to propel himself alternating with his arms. His ribs screamed, the zipties dug into his wrists, and his head stung from the quick, sudden movements.

Breath heaving in his chest, he reached his boyfriend, who lowered his legs so he could rest his head in his lap, on his back, looking up at Oscar. Clumsily reaching up his hands, he stroked Osc’s jaw the best he could, his lip split and bloody, bruises up his cheek. Osc kissed his hands before they dropped back to his lap from fatigue. He couldn’t imagine how Osc felt with his arms above his head, however long they’d been there for.

Feeling minutely safer now that they were closer together and touching, Lando shut his eyes and tried his best to think over the events of the evening. Given their suits, they’d been at some kind of important occasion.

“Can you remember anything?” he asked, squinting up at Oscar.

“No, that’s why I think we were drugged. That and how weird I feel in general, other than the bumps and bruises. Can’t say I’ve been drugged before to give an accurate comparison though.”

“Yeah, I do not feel good,” Lando muttered. Everything had stopped spinning at least, now that he was lying still again. He lifted his wrists, so they were in his eye line, before dropping them and looking back up at Osc, with his hands tied to the wall. “Could they just not be arsed with me or what?” His voice was ragged, his mouth and throat dry, and he tried to clear his throat, but coughing made his ribs hurt.

Oscar frowned, his mouth screwing up in disgust. “I was awake. I fought back. They threatened to hurt you.”

“Oh fuck,” Lando swore, attempting to sit up, but he flopped helplessly like a fucking fish instead, his energy sapped, pain shooting through his head and chest.

“Careful,” Osc scolded, but it was soft and tired. “I hate that I can’t touch you right now.”

Lando blinked up at him, hazy mind assessing, omega instincts calling. Determined, he rolled himself back on his front, Oscar shifting his legs, so they wouldn’t collide with his face.

“Lando?”

“Gimme a minute,” he whined, breathing through the nausea once again, ignoring the searing pain in his ribs.

He managed to kneel, using most of his remaining strength, before awkwardly shuffling forward. With their feet ziptied together, it would be nearly impossible to straddle his lap comfortably like he wanted to. Instead, he eased himself down beside Osc, bracing his hands on his boyfriend’s side, apologising as Osc hissed in pain, his shoulders jarred. Carefully, he swung both his legs over Oscar’s, so he was then perpendicular.

“Put your arms over my head the best you can,” Osc urged. “Brace your hands against the wall.” He bowed his head, wrists pulling at the metal ring.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Lando whispered.

Oscar shook his head, alpha rumbling gently. “S’fine. I can live with the pain. I just need you as close as possible right now. Use the wall and my shoulders, I’ll buck up, and hopefully you’ll land on my legs.”

“Okay.” Lando clumsily stroked his hair as best he could from his current angle, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He was probably gonna pass out from the effort, but at least he wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“You ready?” Osc asked once they were in position.

Lando had shuffled his bum right up to his thighs, forearms braced on his shoulders, and one palm braced against the wall to help him push, the other one twisted backwards by the zipties. It was gonna hurt them both, but if it meant they’d be closer and able to comfort each other more easily, Lando would take it.

He took a breath. “Yeah.”

“On three. One, two, three!”

Lando swore as he was suddenly bumped into the air, skin scraping against the wall. Oscar was bracing his weight against the metal ring, essentially doing a bad pull-up, and Lando was trying his best to use his shoulders as leverage to lift himself at the same time. They both cried out in pain, but as their limbs settled, Lando’s butt was cushioned on Osc’s thighs, his arms looped around his neck, saving Osc’s head from hitting the wall.

Lando recovered first, immediately unlooping his arms from around Oscar’s head and resting against his chest, face buried against his neck. Oscar’s chest was heaving from the effort, and he was clearly struggling with the strain in his arms and shoulders.

“I’m here, I love you,” Lando chanted, while they both waited for their heart rates to calm down. “Do you want me to take off your scent blocker?”

“Please,” Osc gritted out.

He peeled himself back as far as he could manage without losing his balance, slowly moving his hands to the alpha’s neck, Osc baring it, wincing as it pulled his strained muscles. It took him a lot longer than normal, his energy gone, and given that they apparently hadn’t eaten or drunk in a good while. But he managed to peel off the blocker, and his omega purred instinctively as the smooth, slightly burnt chocolate filled the musty air.

“Yours?” Osc asked. And shit, Lando would have to claw at his own one.

It was awkward, given his ziptied wrists, but he managed to peel it off and throw it on the floor, Osc’s alpha rumbling as Lando’s own scent mixed into the cold room. They were both already breathing easier, despite all the pain and upset.

Lando wiped a stray tear from Oscar’s cheek, a huge sign of how much he was hurting.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. He rested their foreheads together, breathing each other in for several moments.

“I’m just thankful we’re together in here. Honestly not sure how I would’ve handled this if we’d been separated, or if it was just one of us taken.”

Lando kissed him, properly this time, not wanting to think anymore. It was wet and salty, and he felt touch-starved, but it warmed his insides, calming the abject terror that was shooting down his spine.

They both deserved a moment to break, together.

To be continued in No.16

~