The food was given to them in the cages, there were slots in the bars, a small gate at the bottom of the cage that opened from the outside, large enough for whatever dish to be pushed through.

Dick took to hiding his hands just in case they assumed he was cuffed and if they found out he wasn't they would fix it, and he didn't want that. Everyone was quiet, the guards handing out the food only grumbled threats about moving too quickly.

For Wally it was a few cinnamon rolls, which he later admitted was more than he ate at home on a good day. Artemis had pretty simple food, he didn't look much but he assumed this had happened to her before because she dug right in. The water boy was given some leaf stuff through his cages' slot from the top, it seemed to be some type of kelp or something, he seemed to like it enough. Much to Dick's chargain, no one was ever given a utensil sharper than a spoon.

Dick, he thought, was given the worst out of them all. It was humiliating.

He was given a bowl of bird seeds.

Talk about insult to injury.

The worst part was that he loved it. He hated that he enjoyed the nuts and seeds, a sort of trial mix that apparently seemed 10 times better than most normal human food. It occurred to him that maybe throwing up that first time wasn't just a result of dizziness, maybe his stomach had been altered like his eyes had. It made him want to be sick, but he really couldn't, the trail mix was pretty enticing.

The guards left without interfering much, though one banged on the top of Wally's cage and it made the speedster flinch so hard he dropped his cinnamon roll. Everyone glared at that guy as he left, except for Dick, who retreated into a corner within milliseconds and huddled behind his wings.

Once they were all done though there wasn't much to do, they had styrofoam plates and bowls and nothing really to talk about. Dick did tend to nibble on his seeds, something he decided was another bird trait ingrained into his psyche.

Dick liked the silence, it was calm and ignoring his situation was easier. Or maybe not, he didn't really know or care, he was too scared. He was absolutely terrified. He didn't know what was going to happen to him now, eventually that weird man with the lab coat was going to come back and then the bad stuff will start happening. And it wouldn't stop, it would never stop because they couldn't escape, how could they possibly escape?! Sure Dick wasn't restrained, but how long will that last? How long is he still going to be alive?! Was it worth it? Was being an experiment really better than escape through death?

Dick never thought himself suicidal before, and he honestly didn't think this counted, because 1. He had no way of killing himself 2. He didn't have the guts to do it in front of Wally 3. He wasn't sure he had the guts to do it at all and 4. His parents would want him to live, Bruce would want him to live, Wally would want him to live.

But living and being an experiment, a toy, a body to stab at, was totally different. Sure you're alive, but you're not living.

Maybe he wouldn't have to kill himself, maybe the lab guy would kill him, maybe they wanted him dead at some point. Experiments were experiments for finding out how wrong things can go, and if death is one of them, why wouldn't Dick be a part of it?

No, Dick didn't want to die. He didn't want to kill himself. It's a stupid thought. Wally needed him, and he needed Wally. And the others, even though Artemis was more on par with a classroom friend than an actual close friend. And the water guy, he couldn't even talk to them, he just floated there and stared at things. It was kinda creepy.

What he was beginning to really hate was that the concept of time was lost in this place. He had no idea how long things had been, how long ago he first woke up, how long ago he was captured, or how long ago he got turned into a Meta. He had no idea how soon the experiments would start, how soon his life could be over. The scariest part of life was the unknown, and right now his entire future was unknown and not looking good.

They say look for the light at the end of the tunnel, well this tunnel is pitch black. He could continue carefully but there's monsters teasing at the edge of his vision. The unknown brushes against him all the time, just barely grazing him, scaring him more and more until he stopped completely and broke down.

Dick swallowed, deciding to open his eyes just a crack so he would know he wasn't in some pitch black cave surrounded by monsters. He had long finished his seeds, the others finished even faster. Or maybe it hadn't been long, he didn't know. All he knew was that he was absolutely terrified when the door burst open.

He hid in his wings, finding he could make a shield or cocoon of sorts while curled up. He heard talking above and around him, things he wasn't sure who they were directed to or why.

"Yeah that one, boss says take 'em to D23, wants to start with this one." A familiar gruff voice said. Okay, so maybe he did know who was here, 'Bobby' apparently. A really non-threatening name for a goon, but Dick felt that even the name George could get plenty frightening in this place. Probably because they were human, and Dick was just a Meta minor in a cage.

The ten year old heard boots on the floor, more grunting in acknowledgment in the conversation. Dick's breathing started to falter, his heart thumping wildly as the silence told him nothing about what was going on. There was a loud clang and his cage shuttered. Dick couldn't hold back the whimper as he tightened his ball of limbs.

Then his entire cage moved in one giant jerk, toppling the boy to the ground and out of his cocoon with a yelp. Dick scrambled to his hands and knees, wings helping push himself upright before settling like a shell on his back. The ground was shaking and everything was moving weirdly. He braved to open his eyes, almost panting with panic as his wide eyes roamed. The colors made it easier to distinguish what was close and what was far away, and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw that Wally and the others were getting steadily farther away.

They were taking him.

His cage had wheels and they were taking him away from his friends.

"No!" The ten year old cried, leaping forward and grabbing the bars at the back— closest to the others, eyes growing impossibly wide as he was yet again taken from the familiar and safe.

"No no no! Wally!" He screamed his friends name, as if that alone could save him from wherever he was being taken to. "Wallyyyy!"

There was another lurch and he fell to the ground again, landing awkwardly on his side. He bolted upright in a flurry of feathered limbs just in time to see the big heavy door close.

"No no no no no no." He grabbed his head, curling on the rumbling ground and squeezing his eyes shut. The wave of nausea came and stayed, tossing and turning his belly as he was rolled down the hallway. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and fears, terror running ramped and panic at the helm.

He didn't even cry, he was too scared to cry. His face was burning though, the pressure building behind his eyes, yet the rest of him shivered quite uncontrollably. His blood rushed through his ears, everything seemed to be loud yet incredibly soft, like it was all far away.

There was another bump, eliciting a scared cry from the boy before he settled and tried to calm down.

He couldn't calm down.

He was going to get tortured. He was going to get poked and prodded and even cut and maybe beaten.

He should try to treat it like a mission as Robin, there were bad guys and he had to not let them get to him. He was Robin. Robin was a hero, who faces many evildoers intent on doing worse things than poking and prodding. He could do this, he could totally do this.

He wasn't Robin.

He was Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson had wings. Dick Grayson was just a boy. A ten year old gypsy charity case. A dreaded Meta child.

"Hey Doc, I think this one's right terrified." The gruff voice of Bobby said, accompanying a light bang on the cage. "Should handle nicely."

Dick shook his head, burying himself deeper into his shaking curled form.

"Aww, poor little bird." It was him. It was the weird coat man. Probably head scientist, and Dicks personal torturer. "The young ones do tend to be a bit shy at first. Mr. Wilson, you're up. When he's done with that Bobby go take the cage to be cleaned."

He was ordering his people around, this 'Wilson' guy was supposed to do something? The uncertainty did nothing for Dick's rising panic. The small avian heard shuffling and a beep he recognized from Artemis's cage. No no no, inside the cage was safe, anything could happen to him out there.

"Where is my nurse?!" The head scientist yelled from somewhere farther. They must be in a big room, or at least a lengthy one, his voice didn't quite echo but it sounded farther away. "I swear if she's with the dogs again..." there was more unintelligible grumbling and sharp fast footsteps until there was another sound of a door opening and closing.

Dick flinched at the metallic slap of the closed door, finding the room quiet and seemingly void of life. He let out a shaky breath that seemed to travel down his spine and into his wings, was he alone?

"Kid, come on."

Air caught in his throat as his pounding heart rate skyrocketed. He tensed and curled tighter, shifting away from the voice and getting as far as he possibly could from the open side of the cage. There was a creak, the hinge to his cage opening wider and Dick could just imagine the guard blocking his exit reaching for him.

"Don't make me drag you out Kid, he doesn't want you manhandled." The voice said.

It wasn't Bobby, it was a different man, that much Dick could tell simply by speech alone. But this 'Wilson' guy's speech was confusing Dick, he seemed to be contradictory.

The acrobat couldn't think much more on it because a big heavy hand landed on his sheltering wing and pulled hard at the crook of his "elbow" joint.

Dick screamed and tried to yank away, but there was nowhere to go. He opened up the wing, seeking to give slack to better yank away with. It didn't work, the hand grew tighter and another grabbed his now vulnerable ankle.

Then he was sliding, sprouting a new scream from the child as he latched onto the cage bars, desperate not to get taken out. That's when he started crying. He was getting pulled by both feet now and his white knuckled hands were almost torn off the bars. He sobbed loudly, finding himself begging to be let go.

"Kid don't make this harder than it has to be."

One of his legs was let go and Dick started kicking with his eyes screwed shut, desperate to keep himself safe. He cried out when a jab was delivered to his stretched out stomach. Dick instantly released the bars and  curled to protect his soft insides.

The metal ground slid under him with a hiss of feathers on metal. One wing was trapped by his own body and the other seemed to want to flap. The cage was too tiny though and his instincts were screeching at him to both hit his assailant and fly to get away.

A big hand closed around the flailing limb, forcing it to fold closer to his body. Dick continued to scream as the hand dug under his other shoulder, lifting him from the ground and out of the cage.

When his feet hit the ground Dick kicked out blindly, wiggling and writhing to get free of this man's grip. The child gasped for air, still crying as the man shifted his grip to his shoulders.

"Hey-"

Dick's forearms weren't held though, he tried to hit, even headbutt, but those weren't working. He lifted his legs, the hands growing tighter as the man was now keeping his entire body suspended. Dick used this though, placing his feet on the man's chest and pushing with all his might.

Out of pure luck the arms gave and his legs extended. Dick flipped backwards, but hadn't thought to compensate for his new limbs in his desperate need to get away. He landed roughly on his right side, somewhat on his stomach too, sending a short wave of pain down his right limbs that adrenaline made more of a tingle. He grunted as he scrambled up, determined to return to the cage where he knew he was somewhat safe.

That never happened though, the second he was on his feet a leg swept them from under him, landing him on his back this time and a heavy weight on his chest. He cried out at the uncomfortable feeling of his four shoulders pressing into the ground, the rest of him struggling against the mass pinning him.

"Hey! That's enough!" The voice boomed, demanding obedience by just his depth and tone.

Dick quieted down and lessened his struggling, though the tears never stopped and his wings were twitching in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

"Look at me you little brat." The voice commanded, sounding closer than he had been before.

Dick didn't want to, but he was trapped, he was done for, he knew he was already going to be tortured horribly but now he freaking tried to escape. It wasn't even a good attempt, he hadn't even opened his eyes to see his opponent or the safety of the cage.

His eyes fluttered open, blinking away blurry tears and trying to get used to the colors all over again before he attempted to look at the man. He finally glanced at the large being towering over him, dressed like all the other guards with thick gloves and dark suits. They all wore helmets, a hard shell over their skull an a clear visor over their face.

The man had his forearm pressing into Dick's chest, kneeling with one knee crushing into Dick's thigh to keep him from escaping and kicking. His face didn't have too many notable details except for the eyepatch and white facial hair.

The colors made it all wrong, every crevice, fold, and wrinkle in both skin and fabric were in high definition. It was like all the details were screaming at him, demanding he pay attention. The man's eye was odd, he was sure it was supposed to be a different color but it was gray, light dusting of pink and some other greenish color that made his iris look like a soulless pit.

Dick gulped as he stared, a whine emanating at the back of his throat at the pressure applied to his thigh and four shoulders.

"Yeah, you're scared, you're just a kid and you don't understand what's going on. You're afraid you're going to get hurt and imagining every torturous thing your little Meta mind can think of. I can't promise you won't get hurt, h*ll I'm hurting you right now. But this isn't how you survive birdy."

Dick sucked in wheezing breaths, eyes rolling slightly up as the colors blended weirdly and made his stomach toss. He regretted eating those nuts now. He definitely didn't like this man, not that he was trying to, it was very easy to be scared of him.

"Pl-es—" Dick begged breathlessly, rolling his head to the side as his jaw started to tingle. He revamped his attempts to pry himself off the ground. If he was going to puke he didn't want to drown in it and he had no idea what the man's reaction would be if he puked on him.

Thankfully the man understood, or maybe just saw he was about to throw up and wanted to get out of range. Either way, the pressure lifted from his chest and thigh, but his hands clamped over his shoulders.

Dick was pulled to his knees and he coughed, feeling it in his throat but forcing himself to swallow it down. His arms held himself up somewhat, the hands around his shoulders were simply to keep himself there, not really take any weight. His limbs started to shake, feeling cold yet boiling, his wings though, fell limp. He took in one shaky breath after another, trying to start a rhythm so he would neither pass out or throw up. 

"Calm down, you're going to make yourself sick. And if your cage has anything to say about it you already have." The man sounded displeased, probably annoyed by the smell Dick could barely acknowledge.

"You alright to stand up now?" The question was somehow soft, like in any other situation Dick could have imagined Bruce or Alfred asking how he felt after a hard blow to the head. He didn't like this man being soft with him, that was a whole different type of scary, because he may be scared and a Meta about to go through a bunch of torture, but he still wasn't dumb. He didn't want to get Stockholm syndrome, and the captor being kind to the kidnapped was the first step.

Dick kept his eyes closed as he nodded slowly, swallowing in rapid succession.

"Alright, I'm going to lift you up now, don't puke on me."

Being lifted wasn't much of an issue for his stomach apparently, but his legs refused to hold his weight. His knees wobbled and his right thigh burned where the man's knee had drove into it. Luckily it was his left that was wounded what felt like ages ago, absentmindedly realizing the stitching was still there under his pants. But having both legs wounded and his bout of nauseousness did nothing to help his jelly knees keep himself upright.

So he had to let the man hold him and take some of his weight. The man commented something under his breath Dick didn't catch, but he seemed just as happy as Dick was about the situation they were now in. He didn't make to move him anywhere though, Dick wasn't sure if that made him feel better or more tense.

He wasn't exactly being held-held by the man, more like uncomfortably leaning against. His hands were still clamped around Dick's shoulders, the boy himself having his arms curled up to his chest, but he was definitely listing towards the man's heavy mass.

Dick felt in danger here, but couldn't deny how good it felt to be so close to someone else's heat. Dick was a cuddler, he flourished with platonic contact and he felt starved since he was taken from Bruce what felt like a lifetime ago. He wasn't even touching this 'Wilson' man but his presence was a heavy weight with a heavy heat that held the same vibes as Bruce did. He could feel him, just a hint of that warmth that always engulfed him and made him feel protected when they hugged.

"Look, you're Bruce Wayne's kid right, you weren't originally a Meta." Dick numbly nodded along, letting out a shaky breath through his dry lips and wondering what the man was getting at. "So you know what a visit to the doctor is like right? You go to have check-ups, they make sure you're healthy. But first they have to look you over, and there's a nurse who always comes in first before the actual doctor, yes?"

Again Dick nodded, through his haze thinking of Leslie Tompkins, she was a good doctor.

"Well this is exactly like that. I know you're expecting something along the lines of torture, well it won't start that way. Doc wants you alive and in good health before he begins his tests, but first he's gotta know how you're holding up physically after your dip in the tar. This is just a physical check up."

Dick couldn't deny the small release of tension in his spine, something he didn't even know what there until it softened. It was good to know he wasn't going to get hurt, much. Obviously he was going to get hurt at some point but as the man pointed out a physical check up was not something to be afraid of. He'd done physicals, he did physicals all the time considering he was in sports in school and a darn acrobat before that. Not to mention Bruce always made sure he was healthy, actually he was pretty sure Alfred and Dr. Tompkins were the front runners of that concern but Bruce always had Dick's best interests at heart. It didn't help that it was only Alfred he couldn't hide his injuries from.

"I don't know when the Doc is coming back in but you need to sit on the table, just like at a doctors office." The man said, reiterating the doctor analogy.

Dick hated how that actually comforted him. He couldn't help that he was a scared ten year old taking any and every piece of comfort he could find. Even if it was from the man who pinned him to the ground seconds ago.

The man started to move, Dick stumbled along with him, still leaning heavily on him but determined to use his own two legs to walk. That's when he realized he only came to the man's waist, and that his wings had folded on his back rather tightly. It felt like a blanket and he liked that, it reminded him of shock blankets he would give to others, and the few he wore himself in his early days at Bruce's house.

What he'd give to be back there, dragging his blanket behind him as he traveled through the manors dark halls to find Bruce's room and clamber up into bed with him.

Instead he jerked when his side hit the medical table, it was pretty tall, or he was just short.

"I'm going to lift you up." The man warned, shifting his hold to under his armpits and lifting easily. Dick ducked his head as he settled, hunching his shoulders and his wing "shoulders" rose accordingly. It wasn't quite a cocoon, but it created a comforting presence over his neck that felt like a shield.

"If I let go you're not going to run?" The man spoke, Dick could almost hear him raising an eyebrow. It would be the eyebrow of the eye he still had right? Does the other eye's non-functionality result in the eyebrow too becoming useless?

The avian shook his head from side to side, holding onto the edge of the barely padded table. The hands left his shoulders and Dick felt cold in their absence.

"Is there something wrong with your eyes?"

Dick was startled by this question, not expecting that type of question considering he had said the "Doc" would be doing the physical. He nodded anyway, some small part in the back of his mind ringing alarm bells about Stockholm.

"Ch-changed... c-co-lors all... m-mess up." He said slowly and quietly, not quite sure if that was an adequate answer or if he should save the details for the real interrogation. "M-makes me dizzy... a-and throw up."

The man grunted, or maybe it was a hum, but then he spoke gruffly. "Doc will check that over, can't tell if he'll like it or not though, he's a whisker short of a cat."

Dick had no idea what to do with this information, not for the first time realizing this man seemed to be having a somewhat pleasant conversation with him. That was definitely weird.

"Aww Mista Jay ya didn't mention he was adORABLE!"

Dick flinched hard when the door burst open, ducking behind the man as the heavily Gotham accented woman squealed loudly.

"Doc." The Wilson man grunted, folding his arms and taking a step back from the frightened avian.

"Yes yes, you're dismissed Wilson. Now let's take a look at our little bird boy."

Dick could feel when the Wilson man left, the heavy protective heat went away and left him shivering on the table. He resisted the urge to curl up, unsure of what the scientist's reaction would be. Instead his hands tightened around the edge of the table, a shiver running down his spine and into his wings, making them twitch restlessly.

"Awe don't be scared little bird, if you cooperate this shouldn't take too long." The voice was getting closer, something that didn't help Dick's shivering at all.

Dick lifted his eyes, at least wanting a warning when the scientist would start the physical examination (which, duh, requires touching). His breathing shuttered at the sight of the man in front of him, his coat held a purple sheen to it and his hands were fisted in his hips as he displayed a wide smile. His eyes were all off though, they were dark and not even the usual pink was there to highlight them. And his teeth, his teeth were the opposite, they seemed to glow.

He absentmindedly wondered if birds saw UV rays too, it would actually explain a few things.

His eyes flicked to the retreating form of Wilson, wishing for the warmth back even if it was just temporary.

"Now I don't believe I've introduced myself, I am Dr. Joe Kurr." The scientist said, placing one hand on his chest while his other hand went out to the side.

The woman (presumably the nurse he was looking for earlier) cozied up in his outstretched arm, giggling as her twin ponytails bounced. He clutched her close and turned to put his nose in her blond-ish hair (he assumed it was blond, in his eyes it was actually a mix of blue and pink) "And this is my favorite nurse Doctor Harleen Quinzel."

Dick just stared for a moment, utterly repulsed and confused because... was he flirting with her...? Right in front of him...? They couldn't be married, they didn't have the same last name... Dick did not like this.

"You can call me Joker if you like," he shrugged, "I used to dress up as a clown for Halloween, of course the only jokes that got the others to laugh were the ones not related to mass murder, those wimps."

"Mista Jay has the best jokes!" Dr. Quinzel said, giggling again as tugged away from the man and went to one of the nearby counters.

Dick wondered if she was on drugs, maybe Dr. Kurr was on drugs.

Was Dick on drugs?

"Dr. Quinn here is gonna check you over though, I'll be taking notes in the background until the real checkover." He said, but then his eyes seemed to darken (if that was possible) "she's a good nurse so don't be giving her any trouble." The look was gone as soon as it came, another smile lighting up his features even though it felt more like a lid to his coffin. "If you're extra good maybe I can getcha a snack."

Dick didn't want a snack, he didn't want to be touched by the crazy doctors, and he definitely didn't want to be here.

He nodded anyway, rather quickly to appease the man. Whatever the case, he did not want to be on the doctors bad side.

"Wonderful! Harley you ready?"

"Of course Mista Jay!"

-0o0o0o Le Bonus 0o0o0-

"Who are you?"

Selina Kyle has done a lot of breaking and entering in her time, most of it illegal and morally wrong as Batman liked to say. But then Batman disappeared and all the fun of stealing was over. Now she stole to survive, and it was quite easy, but this, this was above her pay grade. This was Batman level of breaking and entering.

The child continued to stare inquiringly at her, not quite alarmed but not uninterested. A small fist came up and rubbed at his left eye, he was obviously taken from sleep when she dropped in, but that led her to the conclusion he was sleeping on the desk he was seated at. His groggy with sleep gaze held more curiosity than anything else.

Well... curiosity killed the cat.

"I was under the impression that something valuable was being held here." She responded, remaining poised where she dropped from the air duct, scanning the room for immediate threats.

But there was only a young child, in a windowless room surrounded by paper and computers with a small (seemingly unused) cot-like bed shoved in a corner. The papers were like blueprints, sketches of objects and mathematical equations scattered here and there on graph paper. Some of them even looked like chemistry.

Her eyes dipped back towards the boy, looking him over from top to bottom. Her lips twitched in a sad smile.

But satisfaction brought it back.

"Seems I was right." She continued, standing into a more relaxed stance as to appear less threatening. "But now we have a new issue, I was unprepared for a rescue op." She put a hand on her chin, looking down and 'humph'ing in light laughter, "Batman would have been disappointed in me."

The kid's tired eyes narrowed, his grip on the padded chair he was turned around in tightening. "What are you talking about?"

She could hear the warning in his tone and it gave her pause. The small Meta child couldn't possibly want to stay. This was a M.A.Z.E. outpost, one of the more obscure ones, one that Selina was led to believe was just storage. She understood now the high level of security though, it was designed to keep people out and the Meta child in.

"Well we don't have much time so it seems like I'll have to improvise." She said, eyes going to the door and wondering if she could take on the guards and get out with the kid intact. That would be a Bruce move, he always decided the more... direct approach when liberating Metas. Selina, while having her own moves, did not have any form of brute force, she had more stealth than even him.

The child only blinked tiredly for a second, but he finally seemed to realize she didn't belong here. "You came through the air vents, you're not authorized personnel. Only-" his sentence was interrupted by a yawn, one that stretched his mouth wide and showed just a few missing teeth. His eyes squinted adorably and he covered his yawn politely before continuing right where he left off, blinking away sleep. "-Dr. Kurr comes in here."

She almost cooed, he looked exactly like some of the kittens in her feline sanctuary

"Ah, I see." Selina said, unsure if the boy even knew what that meant. If only a doctor came to see him, he was sure to be some type of experiment. He might be too young to realize though, and that twisted her insides. It would definitely twist Bruce's, she thought. Selina was running out of time though, her looped footage only lasted so long and the lasers in the air ducts were going to come back on in less than a minute. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit kiddo, I can't take you with me right now."

His tiny face scrunched, "Take me?" He muttered, not fully comprehending the idea until his face dropped as his eyes widened. "You're a Meta."

Selina could only blink before the boy was standing on the chair, leaning across the messy desk for some sort of device. He twisted around and shimmied himself under the desk, pulling the rolly chair to cover himself and huddling deep in the shadows.

Selina was greatly confused by this, but her time was up. The room was bathed red and Selina jumped into action, leaping straight up into the air duct she used to enter. She didn't have time to put the vent back but at this point the goal was escape, not cover her tracks.

Five year old Timothy Drake clutched his panic button as he huddled under the desk, wide eyes staring into the tiny portion of the flashing red room that was available in his position. His heart was beating rapidly but that's all he allowed. The Meta woman must be gone by now, she'd be scared off by the guards. Or captured, Tim really hoped they captured her, he'd rather not be afraid of his room being broken into while he slept.

Dr. Kurr promised the Metas wouldn't be able to find him! This was a disaster! He'd would have to switch locations now, and find a way to make air vents Meta-proof, but he didn't even know what her powers were! He couldn't fight the unknown, but he could at least eliminate the obvious.

She didn't have any type of super strength, she couldn't teleport or phase through objects, so that left him less obvious powers. He remembered studying her though, and good thing too, now he'd have at least something in case she showed up again.

Her clothing as a whole reminded him of a cat, she was slim, but not unmuscular, leithe but not wirey. The way she looked at things, analyzing, calculating with a degree of indifference. Definitely cat-like.

His sluggish brain finally clicked into place, Catwoman, a Meta thief in Gotham, and a darn good one too. Only the likes of Batman have ever been able to catch her, but she always seemed to slip through his grasp too. Then again Batman was a hero to Metas so of course he wouldn't turn her to the police or M.A.Z.E.

Catwoman is able to get in and out of impossible places without being seen, no one has been able to pinpoint her power.

That left Tim to solve a problem of a myth with only more myths to help.

His brain was already working up the schematics for something to counter her, nothing too high tech as there was always a simple solution to a complex problem. And this one was rather obvious. Laser pointer, empty boxes, yarn, fluffy bells on string, anything that would take a cat's attention. But was her mind that far changed? Even so those things would only serve as a distraction, not a trap, that could easily be achieved with tripwires and thick chords that could immobilize her. That was the goal, get her stuck and until he could get some help.

If he actually caught the Meta Dr. Kurr might get him a present! Dr. Kurr might even let him choose! Tim wanted coffee, sleeping was getting in the way and made him vulnerable to attack. Just like now, Catwoman came in while he was asleep at the desk! Had he been any sleepier she might have just grabbed him and run!

That was assuming, of course, her goal was to kidnap him. She could want to kill him, after all, he'd been the one designing all of M.A.Z.E.'s weapons and Meta-containers.

From what she said he could deduce she wanted to kidnap him, she had said 'take' after all.

Ugh, did he just use the words 'after all' twice? Yeah, dumb sleep, making him less sharp and focused.

His head began to dip towards his pulled up knees, losing the battle with his tired eyelids. The adrenaline was wearing off, his heart beat was still fast but it was quickly calming.

But maybe... maybe a nap was in order. He was safe enough for now.

Dr. Kurr wouldn't let a Meta take him, he was too important.

6097 words