Brothers To The Bitter End

22

Dick awoke with a splitting headache and a dry mouth. He slowly cracked one eye open and was confronted by a stark white wall. He groaned. He knew exactly where he was.

"Gray?" He heard a small voice from across the way ask.

"Dami?" Dick sat up and clutched his head. Whatever drug they'd used had obviously not worn off yet.

"I'm here," Damian walked over to the front of his glass prison and leaned against the glass. "Where are we?"

"We are prisoners of the JLA. Though why is anyone's guess." Damian frowned at Dick's comments. They hadn't been in uniform when they'd been grabbed, which could mean that they didn't know who they actually were.

"Nightwing and Robin," a dark, menacing voice penetrated the darkness.

"Ugh," Dick groaned and laid back down on the bed, the only furniture in the pristine prison cell. "Shut up. You're stupid voice is not helping anything."

A tall, black haired young man wearing a black T-shirt with the Superman logo emblazoned on it emerged from the darkened corridor. "It is Nightwing, correct?"

Dick snorted. "Who's asking?"

"I'm not here to hurt you,"

"Because snatching us out of the park is super friendly."

"Speaking of that, where is my dog?" Damian hissed. "If you've touched one hair on his head . . ."

The man, whom Dick recognized as Conner Kent aka Superboy, actually took a step back. "Relax, we haven't done anything to your dog. We just wanted to ask you guys a few questions,"

"'Bout what?" Dick asked tiredly.

"About the Red Assassins." Both boys flinched at the names of their previous aliases. "We heard that you know their whereabouts,"

"Where would you have heard a stupid thing like that?" Dick snorted.

"A careless word here and there adds up over time," Conner said cryptically.

"I'm going to kill Drake when I get home," Damian muttered.

"We don't know anything about the Red Assassins other than they went underground two years ago. That's it. Now if you don't mind, I have work tomorrow."

Conner shook his head. "Wrong answer,"

Dick snorted. "And I guess this is the right one." He closed his eyes for a moment and suddenly a scream rang out from beside Conner. A green-skinned girl materialized next to Conner and slumped to the ground clutching her head.

"Telepaths," Damian muttered derisively.

"M'ggan!" Conner caught her in his arms and glared at Dick. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. I felt her poking around in my mind and simply flooded my mind with as much emotional trauma and pain as I could. Quite effective against telepaths." Dick walked over to the front of his cell and peered out at them. "If you're going to force information out of people, at least try to be subtle."

Conner opened his mouth, but a voice cut him off. "Enough, Superboy." A tall, dark skinned man walked into view. "There is only so much you can do telepathically,"

"Hello Aquaman," Dick said, smirking slightly. His old teammate had done exactly what the proteges were supposed to do: Kalduran aka Aqualad had recently succeeded Arthur as the next Aquaman.

"You know who I am?" He sounded surprised.

Dick waved a dismissive hand. "Please, all good vigilantes know the faces of the Justice League." He bared his teeth slightly in something between a grin and a leer. "Helps us know which people to avoid."

"We are not making an unreasonable request," Kalduran ignored his last statement.

"It is because we don't know where those people are," Damian snapped. "You're being unreasonable by even expecting us to know about those dudes."

"We shall see," Kalduran walked over to Dick's cell and pressed a few buttons on the nearby panel. "I was hoping we could do this the easy way. Since that seems to be out of the question . . ." Thick white vapor began filling Dick's cell, "then I suppose we must use force."

Damian looked on in horror as Dick passed out. Conner and Kalduran opened his cell and dragged him out. "Where are you taking him?" Damian screamed after them. Neither of the men acknowledged him. M'ggan just gave him a weary smile as she plodded after them.

Damian leaned against the wall, sank to the ground, and buried his face in his knees. To anyone else it would look like an emotional breakdown. No one, however, would notice that there was a small electrical panel that Damian had carefully pried open with his nails. Dick had trained him for such a circumstance. After all, who better to train someone to break out of a cell than the one who had designed it?
*********
"Wait, wait, wait," Roy held up a hand, "I am not wearing that for a confrontation against the Justice League."

"Why not?" Wally peered at the suit. "Looks just like your old one,"

"Exactly! I'm not sixteen anymore, Wall, I'm twenty-eight! I am not wearing that!"

Wally shook his head. "You're just insecure about your body. Trust me! After all, I look fabulous in my old suit," Wally strutted around the kitchen to show off his bright yellow and red suit.

"Ugh, you two, no one cares about the suit," Artemis groaned. She was wearing a white t-shirt, black jeans, and a brown leather jacket. "After all, Roy is helping me break into the cell block. It's you, Jason, and Tim who need suits to distract the JLA!"

Wally pouted. "It ruins the look!"

"Dude, no one cares. And if anything, you're the one ruining the look." Jason's voice sounded a lot deeper from the inside of his red helmet. With a gun strapped on each side, a knife strapped to his right leg, and a beat up brown leather jacket, Jason looked like a rough rider from hell. Tim, with his black cowl covering almost all of his head, gave the impression of the Grim Reaper's apprentice. Wally, with his bright yellow suit and red hair, looked like the grandson of Cheerful McGee, theleast intimidating person in the universe.

"Can we all just go?" Tim snapped. It had been five days since Dick and Damian had disappeared. Unfortunately, doing the recon, acquiring the proper weaponry, and finding a way to the JLA headquarters had taken way longer than expected.

"I agree with shortstack," Jason slung his arm around his younger brother. "Let's blow this popsicle stand,"
********
"Well, well, well," Jason grinned as he walked through the wreckage of what has used to be the door to JLA's Conference Room. "Isn't this a nice surprise."

Batman, who had apparently recovered somewhat from the memory pill, recognized the three figures, groaned, and laid his head down on the table. Wonder Woman stood and regarded them darkly. "Who are you, and why are you here?"

"Diana, don't you remember me?" Wally squeaked indignantly.

"Why we're here is simple," Jason ignored the red haired speedster who was currently clutching his heart and making fakey coughing noises, "You took something of ours, and we'd like it back."

"And what would that be?" Green Lantern asked. (Jason had no idea who this one happened to be. There were just so many.)

"A ex-carnie, the spawn of hell, and a hound with an attitude issue." Tim muttered, loud enough for his teammates but not the Justice League to hear.

Jason was glad the JLA couldn't see his lips twitching in mirth. "I believe you know to whom I refer,"

"Nightwing and Robin, I presume," Superman said quietly.

"Correct. Now if you don't mind releasing them to us, we can settle this quite nicely."

"I don't believe we can or should." Aquaman said frowning. "We can't trust you anymore than we can trust them."

"Reallt Kal, really? Does no one remember me?" Wally flopped dramatically to the floor. "Oh woe is me!"