Dick had no idea how much time had passed, it could have been a day, it could have been thirty seconds. From the others he knew the food hadn't come yet, either it really had been thirty seconds or the evil lab guy was lying about how soon the food would come out. Dick couldn't help the clench in his empty stomach that growled at him like it was his fault for being so empty.

He currently had his eyes open, swallowing the bile threatening his throat and breathing raggedly through clenched teeth. Not only was he determined to not throw up with his weird vision, he wanted to gain better control over his wings. Because in any case he wanted to have control over them rather than not. Flying could be an escape route someday and he'd rather be prepared. Of course flying to escape would be a dead give away for his captors to figure out, he really didn't want his wings chained up. That sounded like all sorts of uncomfortable.

"Nice, maybe scoot to the middle of the cage so you have more room." Wally said beside him. He'd been 'coaching' for the past few minutes, even though Wally had no clue what Dick was seeing or feeling and his advice was sometimes not the best. It was his words of encouragement that were what was getting Dick this far so he had little to complain about.

The ten year old dragged himself to the middle of his cage, focusing too much on his shaking wings and swimming vision to use his limbs properly. He made sure he didn't go too near the dried pile of throw up in the corner nearest to the outside, he was glad he tossed his cookies over there rather than near his friends. He sat heavily, slumping really, hands out supporting in front of him while he sat on his legs and his back arched. It wouldn't be hard to puke in this position, but he took that into account when he put himself there. If he was going to puke again he didn't want to fall in it. He may not be able to smell or taste it much but... ew.

Speaking of which, the boy closed his eyes as a shiver ran down his spine, swallowing in rapid succession because something was definitely trying to come up.

He heard Wally through the sudden fog, commenting about deep breaths and taking it slow. He really did appreciate the speedster, and the talking really was nice, but he needed a new script. He was starting to sound like Dick's monotone, unenthusiastic history teacher.

Once he was feeling better Dick opened his eyes, his breathing slightly hiccuping in his chest.

Deciding to switch gears, Dick focused on his back and the new muscles there. He felt a pulling sensation, like tendons in his arms, the wings reacted accordingly, lifting and stretching ever so slowly. It was weird, because it really was like having an arm coming out of his back, the "shoulder" was connected to his back, the big lump of muscles at the base of his wing. The "upper arm" was rather short, but longer than his own regular upper arm. Then it bent like an elbow, down so the wing could fold like putting your wrist to your shoulder. But then the wing "wrist" was almost round and the "forearm" much longer. There was still plenty of wing left but no more muscles, he didn't quite have a hand or fingers but just a sliver of bone and muscle that controlled where the tips of his primaries pointed.

The words of feathers were popping into his head, it was really weird and he almost told it to Wally but decided that wasn't worth noting.

Again Wally was encouraging him as the avian tested his muscles, trying to figure out what pull where did what. He felt his mass dip back like his wing "shoulders" were more in the middle of his back rather than his shoulder blades. He nearly tipped over but he rightened himself, then the wing "shoulders" went too high like they were on his actual shoulders and he pitched forward.

He caught himself with his hands and troubleshot his wings placement, trying to get himself balanced again. So his wing shoulders were like regular shoulders, they could push back, forward, up, and down expressively.

"They're big." He said aloud, and it was true, the "shoulder" muscles felt like basketballs tapped to his back that weighed fifty pounds. Not really, but it felt weird.

He remembered some random fact about birds he was sure he learned in school, he remembered because when he came home he asked if bats were the same way. For birds to fly they had to be really light, and most weight in the body were from bones, human heads were 10 pounds alone. Bird bones, however, were hollow. His body's bones didn't feel hollow but the bulk of his wing's weight was coming from his feathers and muscles, not the actual bone. That definitely felt weird.

He missed what Wally said in response because he started to stretch the wings, figuring it was like straightening his arm. And yeah it was kind of like that, except he had a glass wall to one side and his wing bumped into it. The wing jerked but the other one kept going, slipping between the bars and extending a good foot into the open.

He looked out at the feathered limb, eyes widening with how long the wing was, it must be taller than he was! But as long as it was it wasn't as thick, it was rather slender and his primaries fanned out with gaps between them. His secondary feathers seemed to tuck in, making a sort of dip between primaries and coverts, and his Alula was really fluffy. Closer to his person though his marginal coverts were pretty thick, fluffy almost. The words 'down feathers' just entered his head when his other wing demanded attention.

The limb kept twitching, back and fourth and retracting and extending, but hitting the glass case of the water kid each time. Dick was getting better at ignoring the colors, and actually found the weirdness of it made it easier to distinguish objects. Which, like Artemis said earlier about bird vision, made sense. But if he focused too much on the colors they swirled and made him nauseous, so when he started to get dizzy he moved on.

While his left wing did seem to be acting on its own accord Dick realized he was the one pulling and extending over and over again. It was like instinct, a reactional solution that was second nature. He pulled both his wings back, trying to find that instinct again, and the limbs curled nicely, fitting together like a puzzle piece on his back. He only shifted slightly when some coverts folded oddly, not unlike when a flying bird lands and shuffles its feathers around before settling.

It was actually quite comfortable, and his wings made a slight X that was easier for sitting so he didn't have to worry about crunching any feathers.

"Hey that was really good!" Wally said, sounding much too jubilant. But his weird vision saw more, he took a small glance at the speedster and found stress lines on his forehead that crinkled just so. Wally was putting on a brave face for Dick, maybe even for himself too.

Dick blinked a few times, relishing the temporary darkness. Faces and people were still a little too complicated for his liking, but looking at his own body and feathers was helping. He just needed to get used to it, expect the colors and how they shifted like a kaleidoscope when he moved.

He nodded to the speedster's words, acknowledging achievement was good for morale. That's what Bruce told him when he explained how the Justice League helped freed Metas. Granted it was a small part of that answer, none the less important to let the Meta know little steps were still steps. It wasn't too hard for Metas to be grateful for small things though, Metas had to appreciate everything they had, even if it was a simple dirty blanket.

Dick was starting to understand that first hand. He may have his wings, but he didn't have a blanket, or anything soft really.

The boy shifted his hands under his hunched over chest and pushed down, lifting himself in the process. He slid his feet from under him to splay in front, pausing to take a breath before moving again. He pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his hands around his ankles. After finding his balance was compromised by this position he lifted his wing "shoulders" and found his center of mass.

That's when something occurred to the boy. He didn't have restraints like everyone else, and nor had he actually introduced himself.

""S-sorry I don't think I-I've introduced myself, I-I'm Dick Grayson." He said, cursing the stutter, he really was feeling better and much more cognitive. His wings had actually done what he said, sorta, but it was better than before so he counted it as a win. He kept his gaze down though, even that one look at Wally made him dizzy so he kept the complicated looking objects to glances instead of stares.

"Artemis Crock," the girl diagonally from him said, having been watching him practice his eyes and wings along with the water guy.

Dick remembered Wally said her name was Artemis but to be completely honest, he thought that part was a dream. He remembered most of when he first woke up as a dream, it made it somewhat easier to deal with, but also just a bit harder.

He did take a quick look at her though, deciding he should at least know the basic shapes of his cell-mates. She had big bushy hair, all types of colors attesting at how thick it was. He wanted to say her hair was yellow though, it almost seemed to glow. She had cuffs and an inhibitor collar and he wondered what her power was.

There was a light thunking noise and everyone looked to the glass case. The water guy was tapping the glass, looking at Dick. The male gave him a small smile, he was kneeling, sitting (as much as one can in water) on his feet and waved with one webbed hand.

Dick tried not to stare at the gills and obvious aquatic traits but his eyes didn't blink as he lifted one hand and returned the wave. He finally tore his eyes away from the water boy when he stopped waving, sitting in a weird silence until he decided to brake it.

"I-if you don't mind Artemis..." he started sheepishly, wondering what the Metahuman edicate was for asking about powers. "...What are your powers? Why did the collar not work on you?"

The girl sighed, shifting a little and looking down. "I can... create things from my hands, but not just anything, they come out as sticks most of the time. I liked to make arrows and shoot them from my bow before my dad caught me one night and shipped me off here. I think the reason the first collar didn't work was because my hands hold the power."

"But shouldn't the collar stop that?" Wally asked, clearly confused. Dick couldn't blame him, his entire body was speed, but put an inhibitor collar on and none of him would be able to go at super speed.

Artemis grimaced slightly, "I'm not sure how it works, but the idea I came up with was the brain needs to send the Metagene the command to activate, the collar stops that. I'm guessing my Metagene doesn't need my brain to activate."

"So your Metagene is always on? Your brain can't tell it to stop or start?" Wally asked, completely confused by this concept.

Artemis huffed quietly, "I don't actually understand it too much myself, but it's a physical thing, like a reaction. I can prompt it, but it's a lot harder to hold it back. Like claws on a cat's toes, they come out almost naturally and sink back in naturally."

Dick nodded, imagining that made sense. So with that logic a collar on Dick would be useless right? Unless they wanted to render him flightless or blind, or stomachless... if that made any sense. Or would his wings go away? Would he get his normal sight back if he wore a collar?

"I don't mean to be rude or anything," Artemis started. He didn't look, he needed a break from looking at things, but he could hear the cringe in her voice. "But weren't you the ward of that Wayne guy? I heard that he was charged with abuse when you got dragged in."

Dick sighed and shook his head, of course that would follow him here. "He doesn't abuse me, a-and besides, it doesn't matter anymore..." he settled his chin on his knees, he could feel Wally watching them with a frown. "We're stuck here now, so why care about anything else?"

Artemis shifted slightly away, leaning on the bars closer to Wally. "I was just curious. They brought you in awake, they don't do that... like ever, so I was just thinking that's what made you special."

Dick's grip on his ankles tightened, glancing to the ground now. "I don't know... Bruce is here though," he muttered, his mind replaying the scene in his head. He wished he could have fought better, he really wished he was with Bruce even if it meant not being with Wally. Then another thought came to mind and his eyes shot up to Wally, the young speedster looking shocked. "And so is your uncle."

"Uncle Barry is here?!" Wally exclaimed, a hand speeding up to run through his hair and grab it. "How do you know?! Did you see him?! Is he alright?!"

"Wally!" Artemis chastised, glaring at him to shut up.

Dick nodded anyway, "he's..." Dick bit his lip for a second, wondering if this is something he should tell, if he should tell that his adopted father doubled as a Justice Leaguer. "He's The Flash."

"He's the- the what?!" Wally looked lost, eyes darting about like he was looking around at invisible equations. Then he sat back with a thump, holding his head in his hands while his elbows rested on his splayed knees. "Whoa..."

"You saw the Justice League?" Artemis asked, "and they were all there?"

Dick nodded, "They were all unmasked too, I didn't recognize most of them, but Oliver Queen is a billionaire too, he's Green Arrow."

"Did you see who Batman was?" Artemis asked almost eagerly, Dick shied away from this question, still unsure if it was a good idea or not to expose Bruce like that. For now he felt that it was alright to let them think Bruce and Batman were separate people.

"Wait wait, my uncle is The Flash!" Wally shouted, springing forward to his knees, eyes on Dick and hands on the bars. "He's a speedster too! Was he okay? Was he being fed?! I can't believe my uncle is The Flash! I lived in The Flash's house! I hid my powers from The Flash!"

"Wally." Artemis snapped again, "we get it, time to move on."

Wally rounded on her, "No you don't get it! He's my UNCLE! He saved me from my abusive parents! He was someone I should have trusted! I'm such an idiot!" The boy crashed down again, digging his fingers into his wild orange hair.

Dick frowned sharply. "Wally you couldn't have known he was The Flash, he wouldn't have told you to protect himself, and you didn't tell him for the same reason. So it doesn't matter if you know now, we're all trapped anyway so what's the point?"

"You sound like you've given up." Artemis said carefully. Wally sat up straight, alarmed eyes landing the ten year old.

"Yeah. I am." Dick snapped, holding his knees closer and his wings compensated by lifting up over his ducked head. "What can we do? We're stuck, and we'll continue being stuck until we're dead, a-and we'll get experimented on, maybe dissected, maybe even s-sold off to someone else w-with an even worse agenda." The tears started to gather in his eyes, the sinking feeling in his gut plummeting faster than ever. The ten year old hid his face in his arms, his shoulders beginning to shake with silent sobs, his inky wings shuttering along with him.

Wally and Artemis's arguments died in their throats, they exchanged a sad glance and grew sullen.

"...I'm sorry." Wally said quietly, sitting criss-cross and leaning his head against the bars. "I would say it's really not that bad... but... I've been having nightmares about this for years... and yeah, to finally have them come true... I'm... I'm a bit in denial. I'm trying to survive." His mouth quirked into a smile for a second before it died, "You could say we're all emotionally compromised."

Then there was more thumping coming from the water boy, Wally and Artemis turned their attention to the Meta. He was literally knocking on the glass with his knuckles, he stopped once he got their attention and pointed across the way.

The door was opening and a cart was rolled in.

"Food." Wally breathed.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Bruce knew something was wrong, something was wrong with Dick. From the snippets of conversation he could hear (curse his failing focus) Dick was awake and he wasn't doing well at all.

He paced, his own pair of heavy wings and the chains on his hands following along with him. Along with Dick not doing well with his turn (Dick also getting a pair of wings) Wally was told his uncle was here. It shouldn't surprise him they had similar reactions, but Bruce was more worried about Dick. Dick was having so many issues, he was pretty sure he threw up at one point but no one said anything about it but the sounds were pretty convincing. It wasn't definite until the head scientist came in and pointed it out.

Bruce really hated that man, he was doing so many illegal things and even the legal things were just wrong. Dick was scared of him and Bruce didn't blame him in the slightest, Dick was just ten. He was just ten.

Dick wanted to go home. He was terrified of this place. He was giving up. He would never have a normal life, or even some semblance of one, ever again.

Bruce had to save him, had to get out of here and if he had to bust every head in this darn facility to get to Dick he would.

"Oh Bruuuucie!" The man called, voice light but intentions dark.

Bruce nearly growled as he came up to the glass, clenching his fists as the man came into view.

"So I dropped by your little bird boy, I think he'll be fine in a few hours. The first 24 hours of being a Meta is always painful and confusing, I'm sure he'll get the hang of it."

"There's something else that's wrong with him." Bruce said, not quite sure why he was pointing it out to the man. Probably because for now it didn't seem like he wanted Dick hurt, and honestly it made sense for the scientist to want his test subjects in good condition before starting any experiments.

The man nodded, "I'll fix it when I see him again but I think I'll enjoy this a little longer." His eyes seemed hooded as he glared at Bruce with one of his creepy smiles. Bruce was unsure what 'this' he was referring to. "But how did the big bad bat know? You haven't seen your little bird since before his dip, yet you know."

Bruce swallowed dryly, his ears twitching backwards. Okay bad idea, why'd he point out his bat ears could hear that far away?

"Oh don't be so shy, I know you can hear them." The man said offhandedly, but his gaze grew sharp as his voice grew dangerous. "I'm glad you can hear him, I want you to know what's going on. I want you to hear every whimper and cry that comes from your little bird's mouth. I want you to sit and listen, to suffer because you can't do anything to help."

Bruce roared, lunging forward and slamming a fist into the glass, glaring down at the man with as much hatred and malevolence as he could. "Why!? What's the point of all of this?!" He barked, some spittle hitting the glass.

The man rose an unimpressed eyebrow, "what's the point of all of this?" He laughed quietly, "what's the point of all of this?" His laughing grew louder, soon he was cackling obnoxiously. "Dear Batsy, you can't comprehend the point of all of this."

"You're insane." Bruce grunted, realizing it was both an observation and the answer.

"Good guess, but insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result! And yes, I'll admit, that's what we do here, but we DO get different results! Metagenes are fun that way. All the fun of insanity without paying the price!"

"No," Bruce sighed, a wave of dread washing over him as it fully settled inside him that this man was the one who was going to terrorize his son. "Everyone else is paying for it."

"It's not such a bad thing," The man shrugged, not caring it didn't convince the bat man. "Not when it's so fun to watch people squirm." He giggled.

Bruce shoved off the glass wall, turning his back and folding his arms. He wouldn't indulge this man any longer, he was clearly getting something from it and Bruce refused to fuel his fire.

"Aww, don't be like that Batsy!" The man whined behind him. "It's just a bit of fun, the perks of being top dog in such a glorious enterprise."

Bruce did nothing, honestly it embarrassed him it took him this long to peg him as insane. It was so obvious.

The man sighed, "alright, guess if you won't talk to me then I'll have to go start on your little bird."

The words felt like a physical weight on Bruce's soul. The bat whirled around and stalked to the glass. "Leave him alone." He growled, his wings rising of their own accord to make himself look bigger and intimidating. "He's has enough trauma from you."

The man didn't skip a beat, almost clapping excitedly. "Oh in that case I'll send my big softie to butter him up. That guy will never admit it but he's good with kids, had a few of his own at one point."

"No." Bruce grabbed his head, that's not what he meant! Another tormenter who doubled as a nice man wasn't what Dick needed! The poor boy was confused enough, it would be better to have a fine line between the bad and the good. It boiled Bruce's blood to think about Dick getting solace from a guard of this place, a guard who'd easily hurt him as well as comfort him on the whims of this insane man. That's the real abusive relationship, and Bruce wanted Dick to have no part in it.

"Does that upset you?" The man asked, almost eagerly. "The thought of another man holding your child close and soothing his cries?"

Yes.

Bruce took a breath and stepped closer. "What happened to hurting me so Dick can be safe?" Bruce tried. "I'll take his experiments, do whatever you want to me. Please, just don't hurt him."

"You are!" The man threw his head back and laughed, "you don't want someone else helping your child?!"

"Not when that man would also beat him to a pulp with one word from you." Bruce growled, deciding to no longer beat around the bush. "I won't allow it! I'm not putting my son's safety in your hands!"

"Allow?" The man questioned, still with that stupid grin. "You think you can allow anything? He became my property the second you entered my custody. I could decide to harvest him for organs, I could kill him in a fit of rage if I wanted. I could even let him see you again, but do I?" He dropped down to a whisper, eyes glittering. "You don't know what I want Batsy, and that terrifies you. So I'll keep it that way, you can keep listening in. Hear your child whimper pathetically, then be comforted by the same man who will put him in his place. Sit and listen as your son degrades to a dog on the floor by his master like all good Metas. I've been working a long time to get rid of the human part in Metahuman. So please, by all means, listen in. I enjoy it."

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Just FYI guys, this is the last of the pre-written stuff, updates will be father apart now.