Chapter 2

December 4th

Robin stared up at the sliver of a quarter moon as he tried to keep his breathing calm. His body shivered, which he knew was a good thing. It would be even better if he could actually get up out of the snow and prevent hypothermia. He had tried to call for help several times from his com link, but something was wrong and his head was just to fuzzy to figure out what it was.

"Un-fucking-believable." He tried to place the voice but it didn't even sound Human thanks to the voice modifier the man was using. He knew what that meant; either a superhero or a super villain had found him. Normal criminals and cops just didn't worry about people recognizing their voice. It was even more likely to a be a villain because he only knew of a couple superheros who used the modifiers and there was no way they were in Gotham.

He looked up and around trying to stop the splitting ache in his head, but all he could see were the stars and moon above him. Over and over he tried to recall what put him in this position, but his memory would not return, telling him his brain was actually damaged or there was nothing to remember because he'd been struck unexpectedly.

"The trap wasn't meant for you, Drake." The electronic voice said with a distinct sneer emphasized on his name.

"Please," Tim managed to rasp out.

"Shut the fuck up."

Robin was taken by surprise as he was lifted into the air, but he still couldn't feel anything. He could however see a man in a dark brown leather jacket with a red hoodie zipped up the front. He was wearing the hood, but there was also a red shiny helmet on preventing him from seeing his face.

"...Toss your ass...rooftop." He could barely make out the words, but he knew they weren't good as he suddenly felt weightless. His heart raced beneath his chest as he fell through the air, the sky getting further away.

He landed far more abruptly than expected. He stared in disbelief at the red hooded figure standing on ledge just a floor above him. Once more he knew he was staring up from a thick bed of snow, only this time he wasn't sure if he was shivering anymore. Everything was getting hazier and he felt sleep tugging at his eyes. He wanted to be afraid and he wanted to fight, but in the end he realized he just didn't care anymore. Was this hypothermia or a brain injury? Again, he wasn't sure he cared.

Nightwing landed on the slippery roof and checked his tracking device again. He was definitely on the right rooftop. Robin's signal was close and hopefully that meant Robin was with it. He tried not to panic and told himself that the boy's comm link was damaged. It wouldn't do any good to get himself worked up, but watching those videos again gave him a sinking feeling.

Would this Red Hood guy be an enemy? Would he attack them? In all fairness the guy might just be trying to help in an insanely brutal way. True they needed to capture him as soon as possible but he didn't necessarily know that, right?

He walked toward the opposite ledge, following the direction that Robin's tracking device was signaling him from. It had just registered to him that there was blood beneath his feet when he found himself sliding on the slick surface. He managed, though just barely, to regain his footing as he stared down at an insane amount of blood that was just starting to freeze. No one could survive this kind of blood loss.

When he found himself on the opposite ledge he took a deep breath and looked over. Relief flooded him as he saw Robin laying in the snow, shivering and staring up at the sky with an occasional blink. There was a bit of blood near his head, but it wasn't enough to alarm Nightwing any further. He jumped down and did a quick check up on the current Boy Wonder.

"Batman, yeah I have him. Send the Batwing to get us. He has a head injury and I think he's suffering from hypothermia." He paused as he listened for a moment. "No. Just him, however there is a massive amount of blood on a roof just above him. Yeah, I'll get a few samples. Hurry, though, he's freezing, B."

Nightwing leaped onto the roof above them and quickly gathered four samples. He'd just made it back to Robin when the Batwing came to a stop, hovering above them. He gathered the smaller teenager into his arms and used the grappling hook to pull them both into the aircraft. He was just about to get into the pilot seat when he noticed red writing in the snow on the lower roof a few feet from where Robin had been.

STAY OUT OF MY WAY.

Bruce Wayne stared at his computer, a stern look on his face, even in it's doubting expression. He ran all four samples twice and all four came back with the same result. Harvey Dent. Two-Face. Could he actually be dead? He didn't doubt Dick's observation but even a small amount of blood could look like much more than it was.

The real question on his mind was where was the body? If he was still alive they needed to rescue him. They couldn't just let this masked lunatic start killing every criminal in Gotham. He didn't like this new vigilante's style. Bruce looked at his cast and glared resentfully. He especially didn't like the idea of sending Nightwing on his own to handle him, either.

He looked over to the injured form of Tim Drake. He was going to make a full recovery but it was a close call tonight. After thinking so much about Jason earlier this evening he felt sick to his stomach at the idea of losing anyone else. No. He couldn't send Dick out to face whoever this madman was. If Two-Face died, than so be it, but he would not send anyone out in his place for the monster.

"Hey Bruce, have you figured out who it was?"

"All four samples were the same. Harvey Dent." Bruce answered. He couldn't help but notice the look on Dick's face.

The boy wasn't normally one to find satisfaction at anyone's potential demise, but then Two-Face had nearly killed him years ago. Once again Bruce found himself wondering if he was making a mistake. If he let Two-Face die, what kind of effect would it have on Dick, but then if he sent him out to rescue him, would that be just as damaging?

"So he's dead?"

"It's a highly probable." Bruce answered indifferently. "Though we've yet to find a sign."

"Should," He saw the doubt in the young man's soft blue eyes. "Should I find out for sure? I mean if there's even the slightest chance he's alive shouldn't we be trying to save him?"

"Yes." Bruce answered. "But,"

"But we're not going to." Dick frowned, his face contorted between relief and disappointment.

"It's too dangerous to send you out there alone and I will be of no use with my arm in this cast." Bruce tried to explain but he could see that it changed nothing for the young man. He was just as confused about what the right thing to do was as Bruce. "It's safest to let this one go, Dick."

"Obviously it's safest, B, but is it the right thing to do?" Dick countered. "If we didn't go out for fear of being harmed, we'd never patrol the streets again." Before Bruce could respond Dick raised his hands. "No. We both know I need to be out there because if you weren't injured, you would be out there. Let me do my job."

"Reconnaissance until I say otherwise." Bruce agreed.

"On it, Big Guy, I'll check in every hour."

"Every half hour."

"Every half-hour." Dick caved with a smile.

Dick found nothing that night. There was no sign of Two-Face or his captor. Word on the street was that The Red Hood had a beef with him and took him out. Even Dent's thugs believed he was dead. They were so sure of it in fact that they were getting ready to go to war with whoever it was that took him out and despite many claiming it was the new red masked vigilante, his gang believed wholeheartedly that it was the work of Joker and Harley Quinn.

Nightwing interrogated them, trying to find out why they believed the Clown and his bimbo side-kick were responsible. All he got out of them was that one of Harvey's old lawyer buddies had it on good authority that The Red Hood was a previous alias of the Joker. Of course none would tell him who this lawyer friend was.

Naturally, he locked up the thugs and continued his search for The Red Hood or Two-Face but found nothing. Even after doubling back he found that the snow now covered the large words that had warned Robin away. The blood was frozen to the roof under at least an inch of snow and to be honest, it had been a little too dangerous for the acrobat to go running and leaping off of buildings in the heavy snow fall and freezing temperatures.

When all was said and done, he returned to the Bat Cave no worse for wear. He couldn't help but smile at Bruce's relieved face or at Tim who was just waking up and was completely wrapped in blankets and surrounded by space heaters. Alfred came down with some hot chocolate for everyone; extra marshmallows to sooth Dick's sweet tooth.

Despite all that had happened, Dick didn't see that night as a complete failure. He and the big guy might not always get along, but he was always grateful for some quality with him. Especially if Al and Tim were there, too. It felt like family and most importantly, it felt like home.