"Hey, Walls!" Dick called as he walked into the warehouse. They'd rented a new space recently, Dick having hatched a new plan.
"Hello, dearest. How was things on your end?"
"Pretty good. The kid's an ankle biter, though. Don't know how Brucie puts up with him."
"Beats me. Anyway, tank's set up, and our boys are ready to seal the top."
"They're sure it's operational? I don't want the Bat to come after us cause his kid died."
"They're sure. Did tests and everything."
"Good."
Dick motioned to the men that went with him, grinning to himself as Damian Wayne was set in the glass tank. It was large, over eight feet, but small in width. Damian would have enough room to stand and sit, but not enough to do anything else. The only opening once it was sealed would be a small hatch in the middle, which would drop water bottles and food. Even if he tried to hack into it or break it, he wouldn't be able to. It was designed to hold Superman at his greatest strength. A ten year old kid, especially one that Dick had searched and cleared of anything besides his shirt and pants, wouldn't be able to get out.
Dick sat on the railing of the catwalk as they welded the top to the glass, munching on chips. The kid had always annoyed him. Claimed that he was the only true son of Batman. Dick always scoffed at that. Despite the fact that they were on opposite sides, Dick felt Tim was much more of a son than Damian. The kid needed to learn his place. "Almost done."
"Good. His oxygen level?"
"A little low, but we'll pump in more once we're done. Don't want to start a fire."
"No, we don't. Perimeter patrol, what do you see?"
"No Bat yet. Looks like his business may be on the other side of town."
"Keep your eyes open. He's elusive."
Damian woke up about an hour later, leaning against the warm glass.
"So, you're finally awake." Dick chirped as he typed on his computer.
"Where am I?"
"An old warehouse we're renting. Currently waiting on Batman."
Damian growled, slamming against the glass.
Dick didn't even look up. "Cute. Anyway, Damian, you're a real brat. I don't see why Bruce tries with you. You have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair."
"The hell is that supposed to mean?"
"My my, such a potty mouth for someone who can't legally be left alone."
"Answer the damn question."
"Oh no, you're gonna bite me and give me rabies. Ah, I'm so scared." Dick smirked.
"What do you want?" Damian was going to stab this lunatic when he got out. Who dared to talk to him like that?
"Eh. Wanted to talk to your dad. Want you to drop the attitude, but I doubt that'll happen."
"How do I play into this?"
"Your dad might come for you. Although with that mouth, he might not."
"I am his son."
"So? Guy who called himself my dad kicked me out when I was twelve. He wasn't my real dad, but still. Besides, he's only known you for two months, and you've already gotten on his bad side at least five hundred times."
"That isn't possible."
"It is. Trust me. You've still got my record to beat, with eight hundred in a month and a half, but you're pretty close."
