Yeah, the physical exam wasn't all that bad.

Just kidding.

Dick wanted OUT.

Ok it actually wasn't bad until it was Dr. Kurr's turn.

Dr. Quinn, while loud and somewhat annoying, was gentle and explained what she was doing before she did it. Dick liked that a lot, and she only did superficial things. Took his blood pressure, his temperature, looked down his throat and ears, although she didn't look at his eyes which was weird. She asked about any bruising or pain anywhere and Dick pointed to his thighs. She just nodded and Dr. Kurr made a note on the clipboard he had while he stood a few feet away.

But she was done all too quickly and Dr. Kurr was a lot scarier.

Dr. Kurr focused on what changed about him, and he started with his stomach, which included being rubbed for some weird medical reason. He couldn't exactly lay down so his stomach probing was done while he hiked his shirt up and exposed his middle. (The shirt was more like a glorified hospital tunic draped over his front, his back was completely exposed and the way the 'shirt' stayed on was by two strings by his neck and at his waist.) The stomach probing felt really weird and was highly uncomfortable. Dick hated it with every fiber of his being. But every time he wiggled uncomfortably Dr. Kurr shot him this look. Dick couldn't identify this look, but dread filled his entire body with this look so he tried to keep the wiggling to a minimum.

He made some notes about how his stomach felt, whatever that meant, and moved on to his wings. Dr. Kurr tended to mumble as he did these things, seemingly talking to Dick, but also to himself. Dick wanted to ignore it but sometimes there was a command in the mumbling and Dr. Kurr would get annoyed and do it himself. That's how his left wing got yanked backwards and scared Dick half to death.

His wing fought back for a moment, needing to be plastered to Dick's back protectively, but the man gave him a verbal warning and Dick forced his wing to relax. Dr. Kurr had a hand on his "wrist", he pulled and the wing straightened out, extending backwards as far as it could go while relaxed. Dick was sure he could make it go farther by using his muscles, but he didn't know what Dr. Kurr wanted. He kept mumbling incoherently, Dick was only catching wisps of what he was saying and when he did it made no sense.

Dr. Kurr proceeded to feel up his wing muscles, starting from his back and the "shoulder" there. Again Dick hated this, he grit his teeth and tightened his grip on the table to keep from crying out or shying away. The hands grabbed and pinched somewhat, moving up his joint to the "upper arm" of his wing. Dick liked that better, he could relax some, but it wasn't much better from the touching on his back so he continued to flinch. Dr. Kurr went all the way to his "wrist" before grabbing his "forearm" and making them bend like a hinge.

Dick was fully capable of doing that himself, and it felt really weird for someone else to be doing it for him, but soon enough Dr. Kurr moved on and did the same thing to his "elbow" joint. Eventually he did it to the entire wing, folding it completely before stretching it out again.

Everything paused for a few seconds, there was more mumbling and the scratch of pen on paper. Then his other wing was taken into the scientist's hands. The same process was repeated and Dick continued to be uncomfortable.

Once that was finished Dick relaxed more, the scientist must move on to some other place to terrorize. Hopefully not his eyes, he really didn't want to throw up again.

Then a cold hand was placed on his lower back, his way lower back. Dick yelped and moved away from the unwanted touch, but another hand clasped onto his shoulder and forced him to sit still. The hand dipped lower, it was starting to really scare Dick, if he went any lower...

The hand breached his pants and Dick started to struggle, not caring anymore about any punishment that might be doled out.

"Hmm, no extended tailbone." Dr. Kurr hummed in his ear and the hand pulled away as the man wrote another something on the clipboard.

Dick gasped heavily for air, tucking his wings closer over his back like a shield to prevent any more touches like that. He wrenched his clenching hands from holding the edge of the table, finding his arms shaking. Dick gulped dryly and tucked his limbs close, hunching and lifting his legs just in case the man wanted to touch his front. Dick was NOT going to allow that, not even for a second.

Was he done yet? Dick wanted to leave, he wanted to get away from this man, even Dr. Quinn was better than this man.

"Oh don't clam up on me now, we're almost done." The scientist huffed, then sat on the floor.

Dick's eyebrows furrowed, still feeling in danger of any touches from this man.

The man reached for his foot and Dick debating kicking him. The hand grabbed his ankle and pulled, Dick relented and decided he wouldn't do anything drastic until the need came. The scientist was focused on his foot for some reason.

Dick actually couldn't feel much, he knew Dr. Kurr's hand was cold, and while he could feel the hand on his foot he couldn't feel the cold. Then the hand started going up his calf and Dick tried to yank away. His pants only went down to the tops of his knees, Dick refused to let the man get close enough to get past his pants again.

Dr. Kurr glared at him but released the leg, moving on to the next one. Again the same process was repeated, ending with the question "Can you feel my hand?"

Dick nodded because yes, he could feel his hand.

"But you can't feel how cold it is can you?" He continued, that when Dick took note of this guy's hair. It was tinged green, and for some reason long. Weren't scientists supposed to be all about cleanliness in the lab?

Anyway, Dick shook his head, but the man frowned.

"Clarify, little bird."

Dick was really starting to hate that nick name, it made him feel tense. "No... I-I can't feel t-the cold."

The man nodded deeply as if expecting the answer, he let the foot go and stood up in front of the child. Dick felt panicky again, this guy was way too close. "Give me an arm."

Dick hesitated for a second but unraveled to place his right arm in the man's waiting hand. The man's hands were big around his wrist, gliding up his forearm and up to his shoulder. Dick flinched when he tried to go up to his neck, his shoulder coming up and head going down to impede the seeking hand.

"Arms seem unchanged, you were an acrobat yes? So all of this muscle was already here." The man muttered, just close enough for the ten year old to hear. He nodded in response but realized the man was moving on, he didn't really need his answer.

The hand grabbed his other arm and did the same thing, but paused at his neck. Dr. Kurr locked eyes with Dick for a moment, staring down the child like some gunslinger western movie. "You will let me feel your neck. If you want I can knock you out and do this while you're asleep, but I'd rather you be cognizant so I can get some feedback."

It obviously wasn't a question, but Dick was being given a choice. The obvious answer was to stay awake and let the man do what he needed, because anything could happen if he was asleep.

So he uncinched his neck and shoulders, straightening his back and neck. The man's eyes glittered and the hands came up. Dick flinched at first contact and the hands laid heavily on both sides of his neck. They started moving, going back and fourth and feeling over the muscles at the base of his neck and closer to his normal shoulders. He then went up, along his jaw and one hand grabbed his chin. Dick squeaked in fright and his hands came up to push the man away, but he stopped right before his hands made contact.

Dr. Kurr rose an eyebrow at him, a smirk too wide on his face. He jerked Dick's face to the side, his other hand coming to run across the shell of his ear. "No auditory changes, no increase in noise receptivity?"

Dick tried to shake his head, but the hand still held his face.

"Little bird." The man taunted, the child's stomach dropped as he realized what the man was implying.

"N-no... I c-can't hear a-a-any better." The hand on his jaw loosed just enough for him to stutter out an answer, his eyes tearing up because this was just so darn scary.

His face was jerked back into place and the man lowered himself to look straight at Dick's face. The man was looking at his eyes now, the stare was uncomfortable because he seemed to be looking for something and Dick had no idea what it was.

A wave of nausea rolled over the child and he keened quietly. He shouldn't close his eyes, it's what the scientist wants, but he was sure he wouldn't want vomit over his pur- white coat either. The colors started glowing brighter, the way it always did right before he heaved, the man looked as white as his coat was supposed to be, but his eyes remained pitch black, and his smile... for some reason it turned red, bright, blood red.

The boy clenched his teeth and closed his eyes.

"Getting dizzy little bird?"

He was breathing hard now, huffing between his teeth and feeling clammy. Another wave of nausea rolled over him and he limply fell forwards, jaw tingling.

An arm caught him across his chest, the man twisting to the side. "Careful there birdy-" whatever he said next was lost because the roar in his ears was too loud, the cotton over his head too thick.

Dick vomited.

He coughed and spluttered, gut clenching as it tried to spew more but nothing was left in the tank. The child swallowed slowly, his muscles not quite cooperating with him. The arm keeping him from falling was the only thing keeping him upright as well, he felt completely limp and weak, like everything was a thousand pounds.

"Ah, I see." Dick barely put any thought as to what that meant, he just started shivering.

A second pair of hands held his chest, the arm going away. Dick barely remembered Dr. Quinn when a hand was on his face, fingers splitting open his eye lids.

Dick weakly fought back, his hands came up but went down again, his wings twitching in response to the thought 'fight back'. His attempts were in vain, his eye tried to close, nausea settling in his throat and threatening to come back up. The colors he could see were heightened, the ceiling was too bright and all sorts of weird colors.

He felt light headed and his face was lightly slapped a few times to get his attention. His eyes made its way down, staring at the scientist but barely comprehending.

A light drifted across his vision, making him keen again and weakly try to pull away. He fell backwards this time, but while his back hit the table his wings and shoulders met air. The world went dark and he relished it bliss until he met the ground, unsure of when he actually fell.

He groaned as pain throbbed everywhere, his head, his wings, his legs, even his butt felt in pain. But it was all nothing compared to the pain in his gut, he curled inward, holding his stomach and gasping quietly for breath.

His jaw tingled once more and that's all the warning he got before his breath was taken from him as his stomach seemed to want to exit out of his mouth. He jerked forwards, mouth open, dry heaving.

He didn't really know what happened next, he knew he stopped dry heaving and something cold was on his head. But then there were hands, hands everywhere, grabbing his feet and arms and wings. There were hands on his stomach, on his back, on his wounded thighs and even on his neck.

It was all so wrong, he just wanted everything to go away, to stop touching him, to stop the movement and pain in his gut. "L-le' go..." his voice sounded foreign even to his own ears, but he didn't care much, he just needed them to stop.

He fought weakly, not even able to tug his wrists free. "Pl-es... please l-le-let go." He begged, tears pricking at his eyes. He was lifted up, maybe, he felt air beneath his feathers and some instinct ignited in his bones. "Let me go! Please!" He yelled as his back muscles worked in tandem, pulling his lightweight bones up and the mounds of feathers attached. Then he pushed down, hitting something, but then continued down. "Please... please let go! Let GO!" He was jerked up by this movement, some of the hands loosening or even breaking off. "LET ME GO!!"

"Fine fine fine, Harley get Wilson back in here, I have an emergency. And for the sakes of all that is good, shut him up!"

The ten year old grit his teeth and did it again, grunting in effort before screaming. His wings pounded once, twice, before all the hands disappeared and Dick was launched backwards.

He hit the ground and slid, wing fluttering as if trying to correct themselves. Dick was crying, he curled up and placed his hands over his eyes. He couldn't stop shaking, everything was hurting and tense, and Dick saw no end in sight. All he wanted was for the hands to leave him alone! Stay away!

The dreaded hands came back, only two this time, one on a wing and another on his side.

Dick screamed in utter terror and twisted away from the unwanted touch, latching his wing close to protect his vulnerable side.

"Kid, calm down!"

The boy sobbed, sucking in lungfuls of air and his chest felt tight. He was definitely shaking, his entire body was twitching.

"Kid don't make me tanq you."

Through whatever haze was over his mind Dick recognized the man's voice, it was the Wilson man. Should he call him Wilson in his head? Technically it was his last name, so he would be Mr. Wilson. He wasn't a doctor was he? Oh man Dick hoped he wasn't a doctor. He couldn't take anymore touching.

All those thoughts went through his mind in a split second before Mr. Wilson started speaking again.

"Chill out, you're fine, you threw up and freaked out. You like the cage don't you? Well it's time to get back in, it's clean now too." Mr. Wilson said somewhere to the left. Or maybe it was because he was laying on his right side, his right wing was starting to hurt because he was on top of it.

Dick did like the cage, in the cage he didn't get poked and prodded. There were no hands in the cage, they couldn't get to him there. In the cage was safe.

"You have to get up, I'm not carrying you."

Dick grunted, swallowing a few times and for the first time thankful he couldn't taste or smell his puke. He put a hand on the floor and twisted to his knees, pushing himself up unsteadily. He still felt incredibly heavy, but he felt safe. He didn't get hurt when Mr. Wilson was around. That was the only thought that prompted him to crawl forwards.

He was much too vulnerable in this position, with his wings on his back his stomach was kickable, or he could simply be picked up like some pet. But Mr. Wilson wasn't going to carry him, Mr. Wilson wasn't going to touch, and no one else was either. Where did Dr. Joe Kurr go? Dr. Quinn? He didn't care as long as they were away from him.

"Do you know where you're going?"

Dick paused at the words, finding them again somewhere to his left. He was also cold, he thought he couldn't get cold, but he was definitely cold. He was shivering too much not to be.

Or maybe he was in shock.

"You're going the wrong way, if you don't want to look just follow the sound of my voice."

The avian shuffled quietly, turning and starting forward again. Mr. Wilson didn't speak again but he knew he got close because he could feel his heat. Mr. Wilson was big and warm, Dick wanted a hug. The physical was scary, he didn't like all the touching and he threw up again. So scary.

Dick paused just before the heat, sniffling in tears because he was just so tired and scared.

"The cage is to your right, just a step closer." Mr. Wilson informed, but Dick didn't move an inch. Instead the child sat down, criss-crossing his legs and lifted a hand to wipe at his face.

Mr. Wilson sighed in the silence and suddenly the heat was a lot closer. Dick ducked his head but remained in place.

"You're not going to do this on your own are you?"

It was a simple question, he was probably annoyed, but Dick thought of it in a different way.

"Please?" He whispered, voice hitching with emotion as fresh tears pricked at his closed eyes.

He didn't want to do this alone.

"Fine, I'll put you in the cage." Dick sniffed in boogers and exposed himself a little, reaching up almost to be picked up. The hands went under his arm pits and Dick was lifted, but then he was against the man's shoulder and one arm slid under to his rump. Dick was now sitting on the man's forearm, his other hand holding him steady on his side.

Dick pushed his face into Mr. Wilson's shoulder, tucking in close and relishing the comforting heat. His spindly arms latched around the man's shoulder, trying to be as close as possible because he was just so scared and Mr. Wilson was big and warm.

"I'm not doing this again, you're a smart kid and can get in and out of your cage by yourself." Mr. Wilson said abruptly, Dick nodded quietly into his shoulder.

Until he started crying again, he didn't quite know why, it must be some left over reaction to whatever had happened. Dick didn't even remember what set him off the first time, but at that moment he just needed to let the tears out. He needed to cry for losing Bruce, for losing his freedom, for losing his humanity, for just... losing. He kept on losing, and for once he'd like to win.

"Shh, shh," Mr. Wilson must be walking, because he started a little bouncing motion. Dick only cried harder and hugged tighter as the man gently hushed his cries. This was the first time he'd been hugged since leaving Bruce. He needed it. He needed it so badly. 

Dick wasn't sure how long Mr. Wilson held him, only that it was longer than was needed to get to the cage. In fact if he was holding him this way it would be a lot harder to get him in the cage. Dick hiccuped once and his cries died away, leaving his face itchy and hot. Nonetheless a small smile twitched onto his lips, the first simile since coming to M.A.Z.E. He poured all his efforts into scyphening as much warmth and comfort from this man as possible. Because like all good things it had to come to an end.

Finally, when his crying had completely stopped and he was on the brink of sleep, he was gently grabbed and shifted. His hip found the cage floor first but the child refused to release the man until he grunted in warning. Dick reluctantly let go and tiredly scooted back into the cage. He settled on his knees before turning and releasing a shaky breath. His wings half-heartedly fluttered to correct their folding as he crawled to find a corner.

He turned to sit on his rump and held his knees to his chest, trying to retain some of the warmth from Mr. Wilson. He leaned back against the bars but cradled himself in a half cocoon of feathers.

The door to the cage closed with a metallic thump, the child wincing at the sound. The ground rumbled and Dick was moving. He decided he liked the rumble of the wheels because he was moving away from the scientists and touchy hands.

Dick was really tired. Sleep pulled at him, teasing his consciousness with blips of unawareness.

A few bumps and thumps of walking boots later Dick was settled back into place next to all his friends. He knew this before they even stopped because he could hear Wally gasp and shift in his cage as he approached.

"Dick." Wally whispered almost reverently, like he was sad but so relieved.

Dick's cage was locked into place and the children kept silent until the walking boots went away.

Wally, of course, went first.

"Dick are you okay? Did they hurt you? What'd they do?"

Dick shivered in place, missing the warmth and wishing for some type of blanket. He didn't want to speak, he didn't want to move, he wanted to sleep. He relented though, Wally deserved an answer. "I-it was a physical, h-he wanted to s-see how much I ch-changed... I... threw up again..."

Wally let out a sigh that said he was angry, "I'm sorry Dick, you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't have to experience any of this. So I'm sorry."

The small avian was confused by this. "Y-you don't have to be sorry, i-it's not your fault."

"But you were with me," Wally argued sadly, "in my room. If you hadn't been there you wouldn't be here."

Dicks face soured and he contemplated not answering, he decided that would be bad, but this wasn't going to be a short response. "I-if I hadn't gotten hurt no one would think B-Bruce abused me. If no one thought Bruce abused me n-no one would have taken me away from him. If social services didn't take me away from him I never would have been fostered by your uncle. If I had never been fostered by your uncle we never would have met." Dick took a breath, glad the speedster didn't take the moment to cut in. "And I'm really glad I met you."

Wally had no idea what to say to that, what could he say to that?

"You're okay though?" Artemis said after an ample amount of silence. "The head scientist isn't exactly the best guy."

Dick jerked from sleep, having nodded off in the silence. It took him a moment to register her question and he nodded. "He isn't, he was..." fear gripped his knees and voice tighter, "he was scary."

"Did you get his name?" She asked, "I asked once and he just laughed at me... the weirdo."

Again Dick nodded, but his breathing hitched as he spoke. "He's... D-Dr. Joe Kurr, he said I could call him Joker."

"I'm pretty sure he's insane." Artemis huffed all matter of factly, "No one does any of this without having at least a few screws loose."

The ten year old nodded, deciding if he was going to stay awake he was going to at least enjoy the subject. "T-there was a-a guard though, he was nice... ish... his name is Mr. Wilson."

"Nice?" Wally asked, the alarm clear in his voice but Dick couldn't pint point as to why it was there. "What type of nice?"

"He... well he did hurt me once... but I was freaking out. He held me, he was warm." Dick said slowly, until he whispered, "I cried on his shoulder while he hugged me."

"I wouldn't count on him to be nice later." Artemis said sharply, Wally hummed in agreement. "Guards here only do things to get paid, so whatever niceness he was showing I'm sure he got a bonus check for."

Dick scrunched his shoulders, hiding further in his feathers. They were right. He really shouldn't think he's safe with that man, he was a guard, working for the insane man. Mr. Wilson has no obligations to Dick, no guarantee he'd be that nice again. But at the time he was just a frightened kid in need of help and Mr. Wilson delivered.

Artemis was right though, Mr. Wilson was probably there just to keep him calm enough to handle. That's wrong, that's very wrong.

But he just couldn't bring himself to care.

He couldn't deny that being held by that man for ten minuets (or however long it was) was the best thing to ever happen to him in the past few days. If the event were to happen again, if he was given the option of hugging Mr. Wilson, he would definitely do it all over again just to hug that man.

But first, Dick was tired and worn out by the stressful event. He fell asleep almost instantly, reminiscing a time where he cuddled with Bruce after a nightmare. His big warm arms were safe, a physical barrier against the bad and a reminder there was good left in the world.

Dick was cold.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Dr. Joe Kurr blasted through the hallways, calling his security detail on his communicator as the little box in his other hand flashed red. It was Tim's panic button, the one he was told never ever to push unless it was an absolute emergency.

That kid never did anything without a purpose, one of the things Dr. Kurr liked about him, so he had no doubt something had happened. But why did it have to be in the middle of something important?

That Grayson kid was getting unruly, Dr. Kurt was ready to knock him out anyway to finish the exam. But the point still stood, he needed the kid awake for his reactions, his eyes especially he needed to figure out.

He had an idea as to how they changed, but he couldn't pinpoint it physically so it would have to be discussed to be found. And yes, the little bird was right terrified of him, he honestly didn't mean to be, he needed cooperation not scared little Meta boy. The only bright side is that BatBruce was probably tearing himself up inside, but it annoyed him that he hadn't been able to get what he wanted. Kids got scared too easily, that's why he had started out using adults. But if kids yielded the best results, he would just have to deal with their annoying fear.

That's why he had Wilson, but all this niceness was temporary. Dr. Kurr didn't give a rats arse about the kids mental states, he just needed what was inside of them.

Dr. Kurr has big plans, but for those plans he needed one little genius boy. The scientist honestly didn't know what he'd do without the kid, so he better still be in his room.

He hated how it took thirty minutes to get to Tim, but for his safety Dr. Kurr had to keep him away from the other Metas. He couldn't risk his little genius, that's why the security over there was top notch. Tim had designed it himself.

Not that the kid knew...

The ride in the car was stressful, the little blinking box was staring at him, mocking him because there was a catastrophe and he didn't know how heavy the damage was.

Dr. Kurr was out of the car before it even stopped, flashing his ID before running to the elevator. Elevators were still working, that was good. His hands tapped against the rails as he was sped downwards, the doors opening with a pleasant 'ding' he decided he would get rid of afterwards.

He ran down the hall, already some of his men were in the little Metas' room. He took one second to look at the door, it wasn't busted open so there was no forceful entry, from both an assailant or his men.

"Out of my way!" Dr. Kurr shoved two men aside, stepping into the messy room bathed in red.

It was normally messy, and he decided to have a word with Tim about that. But his fists clenched when he saw the room bare of life, his eyes zeroed in on the open vent. It was a small vent, it could probably fit Tim though, he was a tiny kid.

"Sir?"

"What?" Dr. Kurr barked, twisting around to face the utterly useless guard who couldn't even keep a five year old kid in a room.

The guard only pointed, directing the scientist's attention to under the desk the boy so diligently worked at. Dr. Kurr stomped forward and tossed the rolly chair away, finding the curled up form of Timothy Drake.

He was asleep.

Dr. Kurr lifted a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and let out a calming deep breath. Tim was fine, he was still in the room and whoever broke in probably ran off when Tim hit his panic button. Tim was fine, he was still there, still in the room.

But why, in heaven's name, was he asleep.

Dr. Kurr was so done with kids right now.

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