Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Bruce/Dick, Hal Jordan, Roy Harper, Ollie/Dinah, Victor Stone, various other JLA’ers and Teen Titans
Genres: Angst, Challenge, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Rating (this chapter): PG-13
General Summary: A JLA and Teen Titans’ mission goes horribly awry on a primitive planet.
Chapter Summary: A jailbreak enables the heroes to search for Dick as time grows short.
Date Of Completion: July 26, 2009
Date Of Posting: August 14, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1074
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for silvertales for my Hurt/Comfort Fic Prompt Request. Pairing: Bruce/Dick. Prompt: Self-Sacrifice. :) :) and for my 2009 DCU Fic/Art Cast Of Thousands!!! Challenge.
Bruce couldn’t believe what was happening. His beautiful boy had been taken away from him to be sacrificed?
“Hal, help me up.”
“You’re still numb, Bruce.”
“Get me up!”
“Keep a cool head.” Hal squatted next to him. “You’re our best thinker. Start thinking.”
Bruce stared at Hal, then nodded. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
They had to get out of here. He was an escape artist. Think.
The touch of cool lips on his, a fleeting memory, his boy…he loved Dick with all his heart. Dick was his heart, his soul, and he had to save him!
He realized that he wasn’t helping matters. He had to clamp down on his worry and devise a plan.
Don’t you get tired of shunting Dick aside because of the Mission or whatever else comes up? Keeping your relationship a secret like you’re ashamed of him?
He nearly groaned. He wasn’t ashamed of Dick. Far from it!
But his obsessive need for secrecy had caused him to deny Dick.
And now it might be too late.
He tried to calm his triphammering heart.
Roy groaned and thrashed on the stone floor, Dinah and Ollie hovering over him. The gates opened and a guard came in. Lush music spilled through the open gates, echoing through the stone dungeon.
“What’s going on?” demanded the guard.
“He’s sick,” Dinah said, putting her hand on Roy’s brow.
“That’s no concern of mine.” The guard began to turn away.
“We’re scheduled to be released! If one of us is returned sick or worse…”
The guard paused, then snapped, “Get away from him!”
Dinah and Ollie backed away, Hal staying beside Bruce. The guard came in, wary of the prisoners, bending down to check Roy.
Roy exploded, grabbing the guard and knocking him out before he could call for help. Dinah snatched his keys and Ollie tied him up with his own belt, stuffing a gag in his mouth.
“Help me up, Hal.” Bruce clutched his friend’s leg.
“Bruce, you’ll slow us down.”
“I’m getting feeling back in my limbs.” He tightened his grip. “I need to go after Dick.”
Hal looked at him, then nodded. He helped Bruce up, the black cape fluttering around him. He had no cowl to put on, but Bruce didn’t care.
He needed to save the man he loved.
The heroes nearly choked on the heavy scent of incense as they moved swiftly through the stone-polished halls, ducking to avoid guards. The spirited music filled the halls, covering the sounds of their footsteps.
Bruce forced himself to keep moving, Hal staying close. He was determined to find Dick before it was too late.
Dinah, Roy, and Ollie were close behind. They’d had to leave Vic behind, but the Titan had assured them that he would keep an eye on the vulnerable metas.
Somehow there had to be a way to find the device controlling the stasis fields. If they could revive the JLA and Teen Titan big guns, they would be at a distinct advantage.
Images of Dick kept playing through Bruce’s mind: tumbling, flying, sitting cross-legged while studying in front of the fireplace, laughing, smiling (always smiling), loving Bruce in bed and out…
Bruce tried to focus. He couldn’t afford not to be at the top of his game.
Dick’s life depended on him.
“Bruce,” Ollie hissed. “Over there.”
Ollie was pointing to a door several feet away with two flanking guards.
“Maybe the device is in there, or even Dick.” Roy whispered. “It’s the only door we’ve seen with guards.”
Bruce nodded. “Dinah, Ollie, can you take them out?”
Dinah’s smile was predatory. “Piece of cake, Bruce.”
She was as good as her word. She and Ollie easily captured the guards, who were astonished.
The room was empty.
“Where’s Dick?” Bruce demanded, his visage grim even without the cowl.
One of the guards said, “He’ll be in the preparation chambers.”
“Where are they?”
The guard refused to answer.
Frustrated, Bruce growled, “Where’s the control box for the stasis fields?”
“We aren’t going to tell you!” snapped the other guard. “You can’t stop the sacrifice!”
“Just watch us, pal,” Hal said.
Bruce pushed the belligerent guard up against the wall, numbed fingers tingling. “Tell us what we need to know!”
Unfortunately for Bruce, the Korlon wasn’t easily intimidated and stood a head taller. He could feel a deadly rage build up in him, slamming the guard against the wall, the music throbbing in his head...
“Tell me!” he growled, the guard choking and gasping as hands curled around his neck.
“Bruce!” Dinah grabbed his arm.
Bruce flung the guard away in disgust. The guard glared at him. “He’ll be in the Hall Of Sacrifice by now!” Roy and Ollie knocked both Korlons out with a little extra gusto.
“Let’s split up,” Ollie suggested. “Dinah and I will go this way, and Hal, you and Roy stick with Bruce since he’s still wobbly.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Roy said, anxious to find Dick.
The heroes branched off, and Bruce felt as if time was running out.
Dick, hold on. We’re coming for you. I’m coming for you!
The trio came closer to a series of more elaborate rooms, the gold and marble and jewels rich and impressive. Art in the form of paintings and statuary lined the halls and filled the rooms. Incense hung heavily in the air, a wild counterpoint to the music.
Bruce was surprised that there were no guards or other Korlons around.
The reason became clear as they reached a huge room, the most elaborate yet, a platform raised in the center, a dozen Korlons ringing the stone, garbed in rich, shimmering red robes.
All heads turned to see a phalanx of robed acolytes come in bearing a stretcher.
Dick was on that stretcher.
Naked except for bands of coppery metal around his upper arms and thighs, a jeweled necklace sparkling at his throat, his skin glistened under the lights, the incense wreathing around the room.
The escort carried the stretcher up a short set of steps and placed Dick on the platform, taking the stretcher away. The music grew more passionate as the acolytes chanted, and the Chief Priest mounted the steps, a gleaming dagger in his hand. Positioning it above Dick’s chest, he started to plunge it down.
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