BATCAVE, 23:56

DECEMBER 07, 2015

"They just don't make Boy Wonders like they used to."

Rewind. Play. Slower.

The camera in Robin's mask had caught a video of the museum mission. However, the feed had been lost when he vanished.

The situation didn't feel right to Batman. Something- and he couldn't place it, but it was there- was wrong.

Again, the fight played across the screen. Batman leaned in close, squinting, hoping that there was something- anything he'd missed-

No.

Again, it ended in blinding light and blackness.

He rested his head in his hands.

This couldn't be happening.

Light footsteps echoed on the metal staircase.

Nightwing.

Bruce felt Dick's eyes bore into the back of his head.

He ignored them.

Enhance. Rewind. Replay.

No, too pixilated. Zoom out.

Abruptly Nightwing crossed the remaining distance in a bound and pressed the monitor's power button. Klarion's Cheshire smile blinked off the screen. "It's late, B. You need your sleep."

Nightwing turned away.

Batman spent a moment analyzing his body language. Dragging, sluggish, tired and defeated.

He had looked like that when Jason died.

Feeling a sudden urge to comfort his ward, Bruce stood and placed a hand on Nightwing's shoulder.

A couple moments passed. Was he doing it right? Maybe he should have hugged Nightwing instead? Usually, a hug was the best approach with Dick. But the young adult's lack of response was highly atypical and Bruce couldn't tell what he was thinking.

The dilemma was solved for him when Dick shrugged him off. "Get some rest, B," he repeated, "Tomorrow, we'll have to contact the Drakes."

Even Bruce could tell that Dick didn't want to call Tim's parents and tell them their son was dead. Nobody ever wanted that job. "I'll handle that," he said.

Surprised, Dick paused for a moment. "Thank you," he said after a moment. "I'm going to get some rest. You should too."

Bruce watched him go.

But he had no intention of resting that night.

Turning the monitor back on, he settled into his Bat-throne. (Where Jason had gotten the ridiculous name, he would never know.)

Jason.

Batman leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands.

He'd failed Jason. And now...

None of the others would be surprised when they found out.

Taking on another Robin-

So soon-

Too soon, if you ask me-

Maybe Bats has lost it-

Bruce, this has to stop-

Batman knew the League had thought otherwise, but Timothy had not replaced Jason. No one could ever replace Jason. But Tim had been Robin. He had served as one of Batman's squires- and there wasn't even a body left to return to his family. Batman needed to at least provide that to the Drakes.

The Drakes. They would never have a chance to spend time with their son again. His eyes narrowed at the mere though of the people who called themselves Tim's parents. They had wasted Tim's life traveling around the world, leaving him alone with strangers who only cared about their next paycheck. They had never gotten to know Timothy, and it was their loss.

He rubbed his temples and focused. Disintegrators. Batman had worked with disintegrators before. And even the most efficient ones left a small pile of ashes. He needed to retrieve them- the sooner the better.

Batman owed Tim far more than a proper burial.

Standing, he reached to pull the cowl back over his face.

But it was the best he could do for now.