Work Text:
Flightless birds
“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND. THIS IS A ROBBERY!”
Dick’s POV
Dick wasn’t having a good day, even though it started out fine enough.
Dick and Peter were following up on a series of bank robberies. Luckily, the police were able to resolve the confrontation every time with no casualties; however, the suspects were able to flee before they could be apprehended. Therefore, Neal Caffrey was tasked with checking the security of a few banks in New York City to prevent the security loopholes the robbers had found from being exploited again.
This was the part of his job that Dick actually enjoyed and lived for, since he could go all-out without blowing his cover, enjoying the thrill.
However, he hadn’t expected a robbery while he was checking for holes in the bank’s security that evening. Not one bit. He was standing in the middle of the lobby when six armed and masked men charged through the front door.
“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND! THIS IS A ROBBERY!”
Everyone froze. Dick’s bat-training kicked in, and he quickly ran through the steps of what he’d been trained to do in case of a robbery:
First, search for cover and slip out, either to coordinate with police or to solve it on your own (mind your secret identity, if a suit isn’t available). Unfortunately, he was literally standing in the lobby’s center with no hope of cover.
Second, if vanishing isn’t possible, protect the civilians.
And lastly, bla bla, don’t get yourself killed and so on and so forth.
Seven civilians were caught in the crossfire: a mother with three children, a grandpa, a teenager and the female cashier. Dick saw no one else; thus, he went to help the mother with her terrified children, trying his best to keep them calm.
The robbers didn’t look overly irritated, but you could never know.
While the robbers split up, three went to get the money, and the rest gathered the civilians and shoved them to the ground.
The kid Dick had in his arms cried hysterically and couldn’t be calmed down; he could see the growing anger and annoyance in the robber’s eyes. Oh no. He marched over menacingly and didn’t waste any words, raising his fist and punching the kid.
Dick tried to intercept, but his positioning wasn’t optimal. He was rewarded with a hard hit to the head, which made him see stars. He sat there dazed, while the criminals finished up; they were almost to the door.
“Wait up, the boss said to bring a hostage. Apparently that will bring us more money.”
The robber who Dick had dubbed Angry looked around, zeroing in on a little girl. “No kids or women, you know the Boss is from Gotham. No kids and you have no problem with the Red Hood.”
“I’m not heaving the grandpa around, he’ll die before we get any money.”
“No teenagers, no women, it seems we only have one lucky candidate.” The angry goon pointed his gun at Dick and rummaged in his pockets, he smirked and displayed a bottle and a cloth. “This should knock him out long enough to bring him to the boss without ‘accidents’.”
Dick was forced to breathe in whatever the man had drenched the cloth with. After a few seconds, it started to take effect. The robber grabbed him under the armpits, dragging him towards the entrance before pausing.
“He is pretty heavy for such a lean guy. You sure we can’t take someone else? We aren’t even in Gotham! Hood won’t come here, right?”
“Honestly I don’t want to find out. Come on.”
“Wait. He has a tracking anklet.”
“A what?”
“My cousin has one too. I’ll cut it, one moment.” The ankle monitor beeps and falls off, flashing red.
“Let’s go, we’ve wasted enough time. The boss will sort out the rest.”
Peter’s POV
Meanwhile, Peter was alerted that Neal ditched his tracking device.
Though, he knew that his CI was excited for this assignment, and wouldn’t do something stupid, to get this privilege taken away. What had he gotten involved in this time?
Peter called Hughes immediately, prompting the whole Team to gather in the bullpen at nine o’clock in the evening. The Director informed them that a bank robbery had occurred; Neal had been taken hostage, but no ransom demand had been sent yet. Peter felt distraught. Neal could be being tortured, and he didn’t even have any leads on who took him or why.
Their getaway car was found discarded and burned; no usable information could be found. They could do nothing but sit around and wait for demands. Neal probably wasn’t dead yet, although his CI could be pretty stupid at times.
Come on Neal, just this time, play along, be nice, and don’t aggravate the kidnappers, please. Nonetheless, Peter was aware of how pointless his wish was. It was Neal Caffrey they were talking about. He buried his face in his hands and sent out a silent prayer to whoever was listening: let Neal be okay.
Roughly three hours after Neal’s disappearance, a message reached the White Collar Department, it consisted of a link and the words “If you want to see the civilian unharmed, watch the live stream and fulfill my demands. – P”.
“Finally! Everyone has their tasks. Let’s go, get Caffrey back.” The agents nodded, preparing to gain any information possible: background noise, IP address, the robber’s identities, and more.
They projected the live stream on the big whiteboard in the conference room they were in.
For the first ten minutes, the video was black, only when the clock struck midnight did the stream start.
//--
The video showed the inside of a warehouse. Neal sat slumped over on a chair. He was restrained with ropes and there was a black bag on his head, but it was definitely Caffrey.
Peter let out a relieved sigh, he didn’t seem injured. For now, whispered a traitorous voice in his head.
- “Welcome, welcome everyone. I am exquisitely pleased by your punctuality.” An obese man with a long nose, wearing a tuxedo and a monocle strode into the frame,an umbrella clasped in his hands.
Peter thought the man seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite grasp where he’s seen him before.
-“As I am positive you know who I am, I’ll make the introduction short…” The man stopped to leave a theatrical pause, before bowing and straightening up again.
-“I am Penguin, a Gentleman of Crime. It’s delightful to make your acquaintances, dear White Collar officers.”
-“You might want to know why I sent you this lovely live stream. Well, the answer is simple. For ransom! Before you ask, I am fully aware that I, the great Penguin, am more than wealthy.”
Jones looked confused “Then why-”
-“But for this ransom I don’t want your money. I want the Penguin statuette encrusted with diamonds that you so rudely purloined from one of my residences.”
“We did?” asked an agent.
“Of course not. There was a raid on a warehouse full of stolen property,” huffed Diana.
-“Until you have met my demands, I’ll have the utmost fun with this one. You are more than welcome to watch.”
He then proceeded to yank the black bag off Caffrey’s head with a menacing smirk. Neal seemed to be slowly waking, he groaned and shifted ever so slightly, mumbling incoherently, but not yet fully awake.
Penguin looked on content, anticipating the shocked reaction a kidnapping would bring the victim.
--
“Alright everyone, let’s go over what we know so far while Neal wakes up.” Hughe’s voice startled the agents out of their thoughts.
“Neal was kidnapped by the Penguin, who wants a diamond statue which we acquired after raiding a warehouse.” Peter offered. The other agents were quick to add on.
“Penguin is a Gotham Rogue, real name Oswald Cobblepot.”
“He’s extremely wealthy, has ties to the criminal underworld of Gotham including his club, the Iceberg Lounge, and has a thing for penguin-related paraphernalia.”
“He’s quick to turn to violence, and is angered fast by insults. Let’s hope Caffrey stays unconscious, because there is no way he won’t insult the guy,” another muttered.
“Agreed, have you seen him?”
“Cobblepot doesn't seem to know that Caffrey works with us. He hasn't mentioned his name either.”
--
They were interrupted by Cobblepot’s obnoxiously cheery voice.
-“Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty.” Neal let out a louder groan.
-- “Where’m’I?” he slurred.
-”You are in one of my many very comfortable warehouses, where no bird will find you. Unfortunately for you, they don’t come to this side of the river very often.” Penguin gloated, slowly circling a groggy Neal and swinging his umbrella.
-“Don’t worry, Uncle Penguin will care for you.”
--“Pen’gwn?”
He poses for the camera, throws his hands in the air. -“Yes! The great Pen-“
--“Ozzy! It is you! I haven’t seen you in forever .” Neal sported an absolutely blinding smile.
Oswald froze, before spinning around and examining him very closely, pinching his monocle and leaning closer. “…No. It can’t be.”
“What is going on? Did Neal work with Oswald before? If he did, why would the guy remember him? He doesn’t seem like the type to remember the small fry.”
“!!!”
Peter could see all color draining from Oswald’s face, he looked pained, like he bit in the sourest lemon this world had to offer.
-“It’s YOU! BOY HOSTAGE!” He shrieked.
“Boy WHAT ?!”Jones actually fell out of his chair, while Peter sat, dumbfounded, trying to connect any dots, coming up blank.
Shortly before, Dick’s POV
Dick could make out voices-- more precisely, one very familiar voice... Was that the Penguin?
“I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but then we’d both be liars,” Dick groaned.
Anyway, he was bound to a chair, hands cuffed behind his back, and he had no idea how he came to be in this situation. No, that was a lie. He had been in a bank, protecting a kid, in civvies. His head still hurt, and his vision was swimming. Why was he in the bank again?
“Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty.” Ah right, Penguin
“Where’m’I?” You could never lose with that question.
”You are in one of my many, very comfortable, warehouses, where no bird will find you. Unfortunately for you, they don’t come on this side of the river very often.” This side of the river? That would be New York. Thanks for the slip-up, Penguin! Hehe , he’d be able to solve this the easy way; Penguin was way too cheery. Richie Grayson would have to do something about that.
“Ozzy! It is you! I haven’t seen you in forever .” Dick threw on the brightest smile he could manage. After a moment, Oswald seemed to recognize him and his face underwent a hilarious change
.
“It’s YOU! BOY HOSTAGE!” Dick had to call on all his self-restraint to not start full on cackling.
He let his gaze wander, few windows, unnatural light, lots of shipping containers, a video camera... Apparently Oswald had stashed him in a warehouse on the docks—wait! A camera?
Why would… Neal Caffrey, he was kidnapped as Neal Caffrey not Richie Grayson.
Well, this was a mess. How high was the chance that the White Collar office would ever see this? Pretty small, right? His luck couldn’t be that bad. No going back; he had a role to play, since the Gotham Rogue knew him. Again, what a mess.
Peter’s POV
“Os’, you remembered me” Neal absolutely beamed at his kidnapper.
“When I was a kid you kidnapped me like…” He held his hands up and counted each finger slowly to six “…Six times. But after that? Nothing, you were poof, gone, like you’d vanished into thin air.” He accompanied his words with wild gestures.
A confused voice piped up from out of frame, probably a henchman. “ Boss…didn’t we cuff his hands?”
Cobblepot didn’t even acknowledge him, he looked traumatized. “And I regretted it. Every. Single. Time.”
Another goon answered the first one. ”You are new, huh? Good luck, Rookie.”
Neal didn’t seem to hear them, he continued on with a carefree attitude. ”You know, you are the Gotham Rogue I like the most out of the whole bunch.”
He pouted, an honest to god pout “The others are always sooo growly, like, rawrr, screaming at me to be quiet ‘or else’.” Peter noted that Neal had made air quotes.
“I mean, I dunno, what do they mean? What’s the ‘or else’? Is that like one of those stupid speak of figures?”
“Do you mean ‘figure of speech’...?”
“Yeah, sure, tomato, potato, right?” Neal threw a ditzy smile at someone off-screen.
“Is this guy for real?” sputtered an agent.
Meanwhile, Cobblepot had had enough. He smacked Neal upside the head, causing the agents to tense up. Neal really overdid it this time. Was he even thinking? It certainly didn’t feel like it.
To their surprise, he kept going, not even wincing in pain or rubbing where the Penguin’s many rings had hit him, and instead blinking innocently at Penguin, who looked befuddled “But you…you’re like a grumpy Grandpa-”
“…G-grumpy Grandpa…” Oswald muttered.
“-who doesn’t know how to show eff-ac-, no, aff-tion…”
“…affection?” goon one offered mortified.
“Yes! That. Aff-ec-ti-on. I really miss—“
“YOU WERE ON A WORLD TOUR! I CHECKED !” Cobblepot buried his face in his hands “I thought you weren’t anywhere near Gotham. I thought that I’d rid myself of you,” he whined, almost snivelling. “What were you even doing in New York?”
“Why, New Yorking, of course!”
There was silence, then a whisper from the rookie: “Did I hit him too hard earlier?”
A long-suffering sigh from Goon One. “No, this is normal.”
”This is our Richie, how he lives and breathes,” someone else deadpanned,
“Don’t question it; English isn’t his first language. He grew up in a travelling circus,” another voice replied pityingly.
Richie, circus, first language. Peter wasn’t even going to think about the implications. Did the Penguin and his goons know Neal? Presumably to some degree. He’dl sort this out later.
Meanwhile, Neal looked slightly confused, cocking his head to the side like a curious bird and swinging his legs, his free legs, with only a rope around his torso holding him in place.
“Weren’t his legs bound?” a goon said, exasperated.
“Don’t worry, it’s not like he could do anything against us.” A pause, while Goon One checked the ceiling. “There are no chandeliers within a five mile radius. We should be fine.”
“Why would you check for chandeliers, specifically?”
“The third time we kidnapped him, we brought him to a mansion. After freeing himself, he decided to swing from the chandeliers like they were a trapeze. We couldn’t get him down in time for the ransom exchange. Then the chandeliers came crashing down because of his weight, the wiring started sparking and caused electrical fires, and the mansion burned down. Apparently the old wiring and fixtures weren’t up to code or, y’know, the weight of a human using the chandeliers as acrobatics equipment .”
Oswald looked fed up to the point of total apathy. “I’ll call your Dad. Don’t go anywhere while I get the phone.”
“...Should I ask?” Rookie Goon asked carefully.
“The fourth kidnapping, we blinked and the kid was just gone, like he’d vanished into thin air,” Goon One grumbled.
“Os’? It might be... hard to reach him, right now,” Neal said apologetically.
“Why?” Cobblepot narrowed his eyes. “He isn’t lost in some mountains again, is he?”
Neal cringes “No, he’s lost in the jungle this time.”
A chorus of “Again?!” could be heard.
“Okay, let’s check the list.”
“What list? Is he-“
“Shhhh, you’ll see.”
“Okay, from the top….-
”Wayne: Not available… Again.”
”Richard: Currently kidnapped.”
”Jason: Dead... Your brother is still dead, right?”
Neal smiled innocently. “For legal reasons, yes, absolutely; he’s dead and buried, and he definitely didn’t spend hours tormenting everyone in the manor with speakers hidden in the vents last week.”
“Drake-Wayne: Hmm... What time is it?”
“2: 34 am,” Goon One answered, already used to the process.
“Okay, definitely not calling Drake. I’m not suicidal.”
”Damian: I’m not calling that brat, he’ll just stab me again.”
“That means he likes you; I was stabbed like seven times. Though not calling him might be better. He has a boyfriend now.” Neal chimed in. After a moment of thought, he chirped, “Call Alfie.”
A dead brother, a sleep-deprived brother, a stabby brother, and now whoever “Alfie” was. The mystery of who ‘Neal Caffrey’ really was just tripled.
“I’m not calling your butler. There’s a reason he isn’t on the list,” hissed Penguin.
“Are you still miffed because he beat you up during my first kidnapping? That was ages ago, and, in his defense, he thought you were torturing me.”
Alfie the protective butler. Neal had a butler, or was it Richie/Richard after all?
Dick’s POV
Dick could see how Oswald’s resolve crumbled under Richie Grayson’s might.
“How about I just tell the FBI where to find you. That’d be the easiest solution, especially if they get here before the Bat decides to show up.” Dick froze. Not the FBI, please no . They could never know of this.
“W-wouldn’t the cops be a better choice?” he forces out conversationally.
“Too much work; the White Collar division is watching anyway.” Dick started coughing, disguising a hysterical laugh.
He was so dead. He had no idea if he was even still welcome after all that’d been said by both himself and the Penguin. His cover was probably blown, and all it’d take was a quick Google search for them to figure out who Richie Grayson was. No matter what, though, one thing was for certain: neither the White Collar division nor his family would ever let him live this down.
[Art by me @hannah_paint on Instagram]