The Cry of a Robin (Damian Wayne)

Chapter 7: SOS

Damian's POV...

Deathstroke was right. My life was getting more hellish than just a simple whipping. The torture got more creative and even more painful than before. Father hadn't given me a clue that he knew where I was, but I wouldn't give up on him.

The worst part was it wasn't a kidnapping for information. He meant to kill me in due time. I could usually bear the pain if I was withholding something from a criminal, since I knew they couldn't kill me, no matter how much they wanted to. This was different. Each day could easily be my last and I could feel myself slipping. I was starving, freezing, and was left untreated after Slade's torture. I couldn't even sleep well at night because of my injuries and the cold.

Father hadn't come to save me yet. I slowly felt, with each passing day, more sure that father had no idea where I was. I was going to die here and nothing would be done to save me.

Bruce's POV...

I called Dick in to help me search for Damian and I told the League to keep a look out for either Deathstroke or his men. If they found one of his men, capture him and take him in for questioning.

Dick was worried about Damian just as much as me. The two had formed a bond when Dick had been Batman. He thought of Damian as his younger brother, which I guess he was. Damian didn't show it, but I knew he liked having Dick around.

"Any leads?" Dick asked for the thousandth time.

"None," I growled.

Dick ran a hand through his hair. "We've gotta think...where would Deathstroke keep him? You kinda blew up the last known place where he was hiding....Do you think he'd be near where the League of Assassins is?"

"I checked there already," I said. "We have to think harder. If only Damian could give me a sign..."

"There's no way that Deathstroke would give him any access to a computer. And besides, if we ever do find a lead, it'll probably mean that Damian is already dead and Deathstroke just wants to parade around his kill."

"You're underestimating Damian, Dick," I said. "He'll find a way to contact us. He has to."

Damian's POV...

I winced as I broke off yet another whole nail as I tried to unlock the shackles with them. It was the third one and now blood ran down my fingers as I tried again. It was the same result. Due to the lack of proper food, my nails had grown weak and weren't strong enough to pick the locks.

But I wasn't about to give up.

It was on the fifth try that the shackle finally came free. My hands were free, but now I had to work fast to free my legs. I slammed my elbow into the wall behind me, trying to break off a piece of stone. The skin on my elbow ripped open, but I ignored the pain. A small piece of rock came free and I used it to unlock the shackle around my feet. I tried to stand, but the physical torture and the lack of food and water had gotten to me. I slumped back down. No! I thought. I'm so close! I leaned against the wall for support and made my way to the door. It opened just as a guard was coming in to deliver my one meal for the day. He wasn't expecting to see me up, so he was too slow to raise an alarm. I hit him in the temple with my elbow and smashed his head into my knee. His tray clattered to the floor. I grabbed his sword and his gun and ran like hell, shooting or stabbing anyone that got in my way before they could tell Deathstroke that I'd escaped.

I got as far as I needed to. A computer. I hacked into it and found my coordinates, immediately sending them to Father with the message SOS below it. Right after it sent, the alarms started to go off. I shot two more assassins and ducked a blow to the head by another, who I stabbed in the gut with my sword. I ran from the assassins filling the room, knowing that I couldn't take all of them.

I had run up six flights of stairs and down three hallways when I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my leg. I let out a gasp of pain and looked down. A knife was embedded in my calf. My adrenaline was slowly fading and all I felt was pain and exhaustion. I tried to run on, but I collapsed to my knees, breathing heavily.

Loud, heavy footsteps were coming my way. I wasn't surprised when a large hand grabbed me by the neck and lifted me up in the air. A man with an orange and black mask over his one eyed face. "You sent Batman an SOS." Slade said as if he were scolding a child. His hand tightened around my neck, cutting off my air supply. "Bad boy."

"Shut...up," I growled, kicking out feebly with my uninjured leg. "Go...to...hell." I spit in his eye. That eye went from cold to murderous as he slammed me against the wall, lodging the knife deeper into my calf. I gave a strangled scream and saw the edge of my vision beginning to turn black.

"If I'm going to hell, then I'll see you there, little bastard."