Sick Bird.

66. Waking Up.

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I'm not going to hurt you. The soft voice soared over Dick's panicked thoughts and suddenly the bird was awake. He felt like throwing up, his vision dancing around him and the four walls surrounding him spinning.

Breathe. The boy felt a hand on his back then he was being lifted. Feeling too awful to resist, he leaned into the nearest source of heat, unaware that he had been shivering.

The thirteen year old heard a strange rumble go through his mind and tilted his head up slightly to see a sharp jaw and stormy eyes.

"My little bird," the man said softly, his thumb tracing a path down Dick's jaw, "you must be hungry."

The boy opened his mouth, wanting to say something, then shut it back again.

The stranger let out a loud, distressed sigh and walked to the door with Dick still nestled by his chest. "I'll have to force feed you, with that attitude of yours," he smiled brightly, "cooperate and you won't get hurt."

The door slid open with a whir of smooth mechanics. "Why are you doing this?" Dick asked, his voice purposefully quiet since he had no idea how loud he was. For some reason he felt safe, tucked away in this man's arms, though he was probably the one that poisoned him and killed the nurse.

"I am fascinated," the man shook his head and his grey eyes grew bright, "no, I am intrigued by you."

That answer only served to confuse Dick more but he didn't say anything. Instead he turned his head to see that they were now walking down a hallway lined with guards. He could barely see the wall behind any of the starchy black suits.

He gulped.

If Batman wanted to rescue him, he would need an army.

Dick looked back to the man, a bit nervous as he tried to guess at his identity. "I can walk now."

"I know you can," a firm hand set itself on the boy's head. Dick stiffened as his hair was ruffled. "I'm just not going to let you."

The thirteen year old had a feeling the man wanted to say more but he didn't dare push for answers. He was more curious about figuring out where he was. He had been captured before, he knew the rules.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Sebastian." The man answered, his grin widening.

Dick found himself smiling too. With everything that had happened the last two weeks, him dying and everyone freaking out, this was nice. It was a nice shift from all stress and terror.

But still, this was a kidnapping. And people were kidnapped for specific reasons.

Dick had a feeling Sebastian didn't steal him from Wayne Manor just for the company. It was something else. It had to be.

Because with the warmth radiating off the smiling man, Dick could sense something else, something more sinister. Like a cobra, Sebastian could snuff out his life with one quick strike.

That was the feeling this man gave him. A mix of love and disaster. Except Dick couldn't understand why he was being treated so nicely.

"Okay," Sebastian stood in front of two ornate, double doors and finally set Dick down, "it's time for dinner."

A guard from the row that lined the hallway stepped forward to push the doors open, and what Dick saw shocked him.

Tables upon tables of food filled the dining room, full courses, appetizers and even dessert. But aside from that there was more. There were people. Men and woman dressed in a uniform black, only told apart by the different color of the masks.

"Fetching, isn't it?" Sebastian went on one knee and whispered into Dick's ear, placing a silver mask on the boy's face and securing it behind his head. "Can't have anyone knowing who you are, can we?"

When Dick said nothing, still stunned by the share numbers of people in the room, Sebastian spoke again. "You can eat anything you want, but stay close to me. . . not everyone is as nice as they seem."

Dick nodded and held tightly onto Sebastian's hand, because the problem was. . . nobody in that room looked nice, at all. He felt like the moment he crossed the doorway was the moment he was going to die. And all over again he felt terrified.

Bruce, if you're going to save me, please hurry.

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