The man in black watched through the window as the boy slept, snuggling with his brother. He inwardly smirked as he took one last picture of the boy. Then he packed his camera into its case carefully and quietly, and jumped down from his position in the tree, silent as a wraith.

He walked down the sidewalk past the house he had been watching. He didn't make a sound as he disappeared into the shadows, appearing onto the roof of the house, and landing on his feet with ease. He took out a cell phone, holding it to his ear as he waited.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the phone was male, with a hint of drowsiness in it. "Who is this?"

"I've got the pictures you asked for."

The voice on the other end paused. "Shadow. I should've known it was you. So you have the pictures of the boy I want?"

"Yes." Shadow replied.

"Good. Your money will be delivered to your account in the morning, after you deliver those pictures to me."

"I want the money now."

The voice on the phone sighed. "Shadow, can't you wait until morning? I'm very tired-"

"No money, no pictures. That is my deal."

There was a pause as the man considered. Then he sighed again, in resignation this time. "Very well, Shadow. I am transferring the money right now."

"If I find out you aren't-"

"Relax, Shadow. I always keep my word. If I say I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it. Don't doubt me, Shadow." There was a click on his end of the phone. "There. All done. You now have fifty grand-"

"Fifty?" Shadow cried, outraged. "That's only half! Where's the rest of my money?"

The man sighed. "I am well aware that it is only half. If you want your other half, you have to do something else for me." Before Shadow could make a sound, the man continued. "Now, before you threaten to kill me, I want you to know that if you do, you'll never get the rest of your money. I am the only one with the access code to my account. If I die, so does my account access. You will have no money. Now, are you listening, Shadow?"

There was a pause before Shadow answered. "Yes," he said, gritting his teeth in anger. "What do you want me to do?"

The man on the other side of the phone chuckled. "I want you to apprehend the boy and bring him to me. Understand?"

Shadow growled lowly. "Yes."

"Good. I want him in three days' time. No sooner, no later. You may do whatever you feel necessary during that time, but I need him alive. Then, and only then, will you get your money. Understand?"

"Of course. Where shall I deliver the boy?"

"I will tell you when the time comes for that, Shadow. For now, your job is to apprehend the boy and keep him until I'm ready, or else their will be consequences."

Then the line went dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim slowly opened his eyes as he felt something moving in between his arms. He blinked at what he saw. Beside him was Damian, shivering like he had been dunked in ice water and left out in a blizzard. Tim sat up quickly and felt his brother's forehead, snatching his hand away almost immediately. It was burning hot to the touch. Tim looked at his brother in alarm. Had the infection gotten worse overnight? He'd never seen an infection spread so quickly. He had to get Dick.

Tim unentangled himself from the bedsheets and went in search for his eldest brother. He found him in the first bedroom to his right, his left arm and leg dangling over the edge of the bed and the sheets only covering half of his body, snoring lightly. Tim shook his head in amazement, wondering how anyone could sleep like that. Then he remembered why he was in here and shook his older brother by the shoulders, whispering his name. Dick groaned and swatted at Tim with his hand. "Go away, Bruce, I'm not ready to get up yet."

"What? No, Dick, it's me, Tim! Damian's gotten worse, you moron!"

Dick's eyes snapped open and he looked at Tim, wide awake now. "He's gotten worse? How?" He got out of bed as fast as he could, almost tripping in the sheets and running over Tim in his haste. He ran to the room where Damian was still sleeping in the bed, shivering like a madman. Dick quickly put his wrist on the boy's forehead and took his temperature while Tim explained as best he could.

Dick winced at the heat radiating off the small boy's body. He looked at Tim. "This is bad, Tim. Go wake up Jason." Tim nodded and ran out of the room once more. Dick turned back to Damian, shaking him in hopes he would wake up. "Come on, Damian, wake up." He murmured too himself. Damian didn't stir.

Tim came back with Jason just as Damian cracked his eyes open. He looked around the room at them as he tried to sit up. Dick pushed him back down gently. "What?" Damian asked, confused. "Why are you all staring at me?"

"You're sick, Damian." Dick said bluntly. Damian raised an eyebrow at that. He'd figured as much, since he felt like it at the moment. His head was pounding and his stomach hurt, like he hadn't eaten in a while.

"Stay put. I'm getting the thermometer. Tim, Jason, watch him. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Yes sir, Dr. Grayson." Jason muttered under his breath after Dick had left the room.

"I heard that, Jason!" Said boy's ears turned red in embarrassment.

Damian snickered from his place on the bed then tried to get up. Tim stopped him immediately. "Oh, no you don't, Damian!" He caught him as he fell, lifting him back into the bed. "Dick said to stay put, remember? You know how he is when it comes to things like this."

Damian nodded, scowling, and crossed his arms. "That doesn't mean I have to like it," he huffed. Before Tim could reply, Dick entered the room with the thermometer.

Before Damian could even move, Dick had already shoved the thermometer into his mouth. Damian grunted in surprise and glared at his brother angrily, about to spit it out.

"Don't you dare spit it out, Damian Wayne," Dick warned him. "This is for your own good, and you know it." Damian only huffed in response and looked away, out the window.

After a minute or two, the thermometer beeped, signaling it was done. Dick grabbed it and looked at the temp. It read 110.5°F. Dick's eyebrows furrowed and he looked at his brothers, showing them the reading. They looked at their youngest and saw he was shivering again. It had stopped when he had woken up, but was starting up again. Damian was still facing the window but didn't turn to see what was going on. His breathing was deep and even. The brothers looked at each other in confusion, then back at him more closely and saw that he had fallen asleep once more.

He should be in a hospital right now. Tim and Jason looked at their oldest brother, since he had the most experience in medicine out of the four of them.

Dick had a frown on his face, worry written clear as day on it as he looked at his little bother. Dick didn't know what to do; he knew Damian needed a hospital for his infection, and he knew that Damian was being targeted by someone who knew of his past as an assassin. He knew that if they left the safehouse, they were at risk of being found and captured by the enemy. But they were also sitting ducks if their hideout was discovered. He made a decision and looked at his brothers one by one.

"We'll stay here one more night, then we have to move on tomorrow." He raised a hand when he saw the outraged expressions on their faces. "I know it's a risk, guys, but isn't it also a risk to stay in one place? It only makes it easier for them to find us. We'd be like sitting ducks just waiting to be shot by the hunter!" Dick closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes again and looked at them calmly.

"If his fever gets any worse, we'll take Damian to the hospital. We'll have no other choice. If this goes on much longer," Dick said, gesturing at Damian's shivering form, "he could die."

Jason looked between him and Damian while Tim nodded at Dick's words, seeing the reason behind them. "Alright. I see your reasoning, Dick, but how are we going to keep him safe during all this? We don't have any of our weapons, we don't know how many people are after us, we don't know where the nearest hospital is-"

"Calm down, Tim! Stop thinking so much about the negatives about our situation and think about the good stuff that can come out of this." Jason told him, gripping his shoulders and looking him in the eye. "We can explore Orlando! Maybe see an amusement park or something, I don't know." He smiled at Tim. "But I do know that we'll be just fine on our own. And so will Damian. We've been trained for situations like this, remember?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I remember. Thanks, Jason." He turned to Dick. "So what do we do now, Dick?"

Dick took a deep breath. "First, I need you to get a cool damp washcloth for Damian, then we will take turns watching over him. I'll take first watch." Tim nodded and ran off soon returning with the cloth as requested. Dick folded it in half and lay it over the sleeping boy's forehead. Damian groaned and turned his head, moving a hand up to try and remove the cloth. "Hush, Damian, it's alright," Dick said softly. "Go back to sleep, now."

Damian quieted at the sound of his voice and moved his hand back to where it was before. He didn't stir again that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Damian didn't wake up until late morning.

He looked around, seeing Tim and Jason sprawled on chairs around his bed. Dick was nowhere to be found. Damian removed the blankets covering him and sat up slowly. He stood up unsteadily and walked to the bathroom, feeling like he was going to vomit. He collapsed in front of the toilet, vomiting up everything in his stomach, which wasn't much, until he was dry heaving.

He didn't know how long he sat there until Dick entered, rushing to his side and asking if he was alright. "Dick," Damian cried, "I don't feel good."

"I know, buddy, I know," Dick told him calmly. "I'm going to get Jason and Tim, okay? I'll be right back." Damian nodded, heaving some more.

Dick rushed to wake up Tim and Jason, shaking them. "Jason, Tim, we have to go, now!"

"What, why?" Jason asked blearily. "What's going on, Dick?"

"Dick, where's Damian?" Tim asked frantically, seeing he was gone from the bed where he had been laying for the past day.

"He's in the bathroom, puking his guts out over the toilet! We need to get him to the hospital, now!"

Tim and Jason jumped up and started gathering their stuff as Dick went back into the bathroom for Damian. The boy had passed out from exhaustion, still leaning over the toilet. Dick cursed under his breath. He picked up the small boy and ran out of the house to the minivan stashed out back. Tim and Jason were waiting.

They had planned their exit route all night, going over even the smallest details, only getting up to go to the bathroom. The three boys had made sure that they knew exactly what to do when the time came. Now, they were ready. Dick strapped Damian into a seat and ran to the drivers seat. Tim and Jason were already in the vehicle, and they watched over Damian as Dick drove, the emergency flashers on.

Jason wiped the vomit off of Damian's face with a wet wipe. "Dick, what happened?"

"I don't know, Jason. I came into the bedroom from getting a glass of water from the kitchen, and when I saw that Damian was gone, I nearly freaked out. But then I heard vomiting in the bathroom. So I went to check it out, and there was Damian, leaning over the toilet and vomiting. He told me he didn't feel good, and you guys know the rest. How's he doing?"

Tim felt Damian's forehead and grimaced. "He still has a fever, Dick, but I don't think it's gotten any worse than it was last night. Do we have the thermometer with us?"

Jason nodded, digging it out of his pocket. "Here. I actually remembered to bring it with."

Tim nodded his thanks and stuck it in Damian's mouth, waiting as it beeped. He pulled it out and looked at it urgently. It read 110.5°F. Same as yesterday. Tim breathed a sigh of relief. "It's still the same as yesterday's, Dick. One-hundred-ten-point-five. What should we do?"

Dick glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "See if you can wake him up. If you can, try and keep him awake. If you can't, well. . . we'll deal with it when we get to the hospital. We're almost there."

"All right," Tim said, "I'll do what I can." Tim shook Damian gently to rouse him, hoping against hope that it would work. Damian stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he looked around. He saw Tim first.

"Why are we in a car, Drake?" He asked, his words slurred from tiredness. "And where are we going?"

"Damian, we're going to the hospital." Tim answered softly. "You're sick, remember?"

"The hospital? I don't need to go to the hospital. I'm fine." Damian protested. Jason glared at him.

"No, Damian, you are not. You probably have a concussion, your head wound is infected, you have a really bad fever, and not even an hour ago you were vomiting into the toilet! You are not fine, so quit denying it!" Jason took a deep breath after his rant and continued more calmly this time. "You do need to go to the hospital, and we're taking you there whether you like it or not."

Damian looked surprised for an instant but quickly covered it up with a scowl, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He looked out the window at the buildings flying by. To be honest, he did feel a little sick, with an upset stomach and a minor headache.

But that wasn't anything worth going to the hospital over. He thought over the reason why they were in this situation, and shivered slightly. He remembered slipping on that blood on his bedroom floor and hitting his head on the bedpost, nearly passing out then and there.

He remembered the tunnel, and the ugly skull he had tripped over. He shivered again, feeling cold. He didn't remember much after that, just waking up in the safe house. He was about to look at his brothers, a question on his lips, when he saw something fly towards the window, right at his head. His eyes widened, and he froze, too shocked to do anything as it collided with the window and shattered it, sending glass shards everywhere. Damian threw up his arms to protect his head and neck. He heard yells from his brothers and felt the car swerve from side to side before screeching to a stop.

The air was still for a moment as everyone took stock of their wellbeing. Damian looked down at his waist when he felt a stinging pain there and saw a large piece of glass sticking out of his stomach -- about three inches wide and the part he could see was about two inches long. There was really no telling how deep it went. His eyes widened and he took a deep breath, bracing himself to take it out.

He gripped the edge of the glass with a slightly bloodied hand, took another deep breath, and pulled. The shard came out with a sickening schmuck sound. He whimpered at the pain it caused as tears blurred his vision. He looked painfully at the shard and saw at least two inches of it covered in a dark red liquid; blood. He held it in his hand and looked away, sickened, to make sure his brothers were okay. He covered his wound with his free hand and put pressure on it, despite the pain it caused, and felt blood slowly flow through his fingers.

Tim had a few bloody cuts in his arms from the glass but he seemed okay, just stunned. Jason looked okay too, hardly touched by the glass. And Dick looked completely unharmed, just shocked at the sudden turn of events. He turned around and asked if everyone was okay. Damian nodded, wondering what had happened.

"What the hell happened?" Jason asked, as if reading his thoughts. They all looked at the window -- or rather, where the window used to be. Now, there was just a gaping hole in the car door.

Tim looked at Damian and saw his arm over his stomach. His eyes widened. "Damian, you're bleeding! And why are you covering your stomach like that?" His exclamation drew the attention of Dick and Jason, who quickly realized what was going on.

"Damian, move your arm," Dick ordered. Damian hesitated, not wanting them to see his wound. "Damian, move your arm." Dick repeated, more sternly this time. When Damian still didn't move, Tim yanked his arm away from his stomach so they could see. Damian gasped in pain as the movement jostled the wound. He felt bile rise in his throat and leaned over his chair and puked, only it wasn't vomit he saw; it was blood.

He heard sharp intakes of breath from his brothers as he wiped his mouth, feeling sick and light headed, and covered his wound again with his other arm, the one with the shard, since Tim was still holding his other.

"Oh, God! Damian! We need to get you to the hospital now!" Dick exclaimed, then he frowned, a confused look on his face. "Wait, why didn't you tell us you were injured?"

"I had to make sure you guys were okay first," Damian whispered. He was starting to feel sleepy, on the verge of unconsciousness from blood loss. But he fought it, knowing he might never wake up again if he closed his eyes. He realized now that he should've kept the glass in his wound; it would've helped stem the blood flow a little. He felt stupid for forgetting that.

"-Damian, can you hear me?" Someone was shaking him, and Damian's eyes shot open. He hadn't realized his eyes had closed. "Damian?"

He focused on the owner of the voice and realized that it was Tim. "Don't let me fall asleep, Timmy." Damian slurred, trying as best he could to stay awake. He heard Dick and Jason calling out for help as he applied more pressure to his wound, dropping the bloody shard of glass. He was hoping that the pain would keep him awake longer.

"Of course I won't, Damian." Tim said, grimacing as his little brother vomited up blood again. He tilted Damian's seat backwards so he was lying on his back and unbuckled his seatbelt, then looked around frantically for something to stop the bleeding and saw a towel in the backseat. He grabbed it and, after removing Damian's bloodied hands from the wound, he pressed the towel to it, letting it soak up the blood as it escaped.

Damian moaned painfully, and Tim felt tears prickle his eyelids, begging to come out. He hated seeing his brother in so much pain. "It's alright, Damian. I know it hurts. Just hang in there, buddy."

Damian's forehead glistened with sweat as he looked at his older brother. "Tim," he asked weakly, "am I going to die?"

Tim's breath hitched at the question. He knew, logically, that Damian's chances of surviving were bad; with his weakened immune system and how severe his injury is, it could become infected much easier and he could get even more sick, if he didn't die of blood loss first. And if it did get infected, it could spread to other parts of his body and kill him.

But as he looked at his little brother, his jade eyes shining with pain, Tim knew he couldn't tell him that. So he smiled and said, "No, of course not, Damian. You're going to be just fine. You'll be back to your old self in no time."

Damian's mouth twitched into a smile at those words. "Okay. I believe you," he whispered as his eyelids slid shut, unable to keep them open any longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ugh, I swear wattpad's broken! Every time I publish a story part, it either only does half of it or uses a part from a different story! IT DOES THIS EVERY TIME! So I usually publish it, then I find out it's not the whole chapter, so then I unpublish it, save it, then publish it again! Uuuggghhhhh why do you hate me wattpad? I'm sorry, guys. I know you're probably confused when you see that I've updated, then the chapters disappeared, and I update again! Ugh, I'm so sorry.

*sighs* well, hope you enjoyed my latest chapter in this book!

Remember, vote, comment, share, the usual! Thank you for reading!

BYE :)