"Barry, GCFD and paramedics are on their way up, like right now. Might want to—" Barry was halfway down the side of the hotel before Cisco could say, "make yourself scarce."

Having left the hotel, Barry stopped in an alley a couple blocks from the perimeter set up by GCPD. Changing back into his civilian clothes, Barry sagged against a nearby dumpster, a million thoughts racing through his head: Who would do this? Why? How? All he knew for certain was he did not want to be in Christian Grey's shoes right now. And that he would do everything he could, with and without the mask, to find Theodore Grey.


Traffic was nowhere near this serious when we left for Wayne Manor. Granted, city traffic isn't exactly smooth sailing in the best circumstances, but this is ridiculous. I don't think even Seattle is ever like this.

"It isn't like Taylor to not answer," Christian said with an equal mix of annoyance, concern, and anger in his voice. "Tried his cell and calling the room directly twice before we left."

"Ted must be keeping him busy," I say in an effort to defuse the tension. Christian rolls his eyes.

"Still, it isn't like him to be unreachable." As if on cue, Christian's cell phone rang. "Grey."

"Christian, it's Leslie. You need to come to Gotham General Hospital. There's been an accident." the car screeches to a halt bringing us inches from the car in front of us.

"What happened?"


Gotham City Police Headquarters

A fire at Gotham Royale hotel was one thing, but a possible kidnapping also?! Sitting at his desk, Commissioner James Gordon removed his glasses and wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. At least it wasn't the alternative. No, just have to tell the parents their child's missing. Therein laid the riddle: Which is worse for a parent to hear? That their child is dead, or that someone abducted them? As if one is any better than the other. There was a knock at his office door as he slid his glasses back on. "Yes, what?" that was brusquer than intended. His office door opened and a young woman stepped in.

"Dad?"

"Barbara, honey I—"

"Was working late again, so I brought you dinner." She held up a pair of plastic bags and placed them on his desk.

"Your mother would be proud." Unloading the plastic bags revealed a bottle of water, plastic silverware and Tupperware. He opened each container individually and salivated. Meatloaf in one container, mashed potatoes in the second, and green beans in the third.

"Did you hear about the fire at Gotham Royale?" he asked as he dug into the meatloaf.

"It's all over the news Dad."

"The fire is all that we've let out. We don't want any other details getting loose until we've nailed down the casualties. And you have really outdone yourself Barbara."

She smiled before asking, "How many?"

"Smoke inhalation cases, a few burn cases going by what I've heard from the hospital reports," Gordon said in between bites. "One seriously injured, was staying in the penthouse. That's all I'm telling you." Barbara rolled her eyes as he downed almost half the water bottle.

"I could have let you starve, Dad." Barbara said playfully.

"'GCPD Commissioner Found Starved to Death. Daughter Implicated. Details at eleven.'" Gordon said before there was a knock at his office door. "Yes?" a man in a suit entered.

"Jim, I—oh, hey Barbara. Feeding the commissioner again?"

"It is before midnight, just." Barbara replied.

"What is it, Harvey?"

"Penthouse vic's been ID'd. Name's Jason Taylor. Works security for Christian Grey, who's in town meeting with Bruce Wayne. Grey's been notified, en route to the hospital."

"Good. Anything else?"

"We've sent someone to the hospital to fill in the Greys on everything else. I know you want to keep as much of this out of the media as possible, but—"

"In this situation we can't afford any kind of panic. Make sure their statements are taken also."

"On it," Harvey said before he left Gordon's office. Barbara redirected her attention to her father.

"Dad, what happened?"

Gordon let out a long sigh. "GCFD searched the penthouse. They only found Taylor, but there was evidence the Greys had their son with them. They didn't find him."

"Oh my god," Barbara whispered.


Gotham Royale Hotel Penthouse

Thank God Captain Singh had some pull with the GCPD. Barry wanted to help with analysis of the crime scene, and he was allowed to do so. He was the first one since the fire department to see the place, though he had a feeling that twenty-five flights of stairs due to out of service elevators was an easy deterrent for people. Hate to be the guy who forgot something, Barry mused. Real world experience beat sleeping through a forensics conference all day long, but his stomach was in knots since he knew what he was going to find. He quickly got to work photographing everything he could and searching for relevant evidence.

"Thought I'd find you here." Barry turned to see John Jones standing in the entryway.

"John? What—?"

"Perk of being freelance. Need another pair of hands?"

"And eyes."

"Find anything so far?" John asked as he took out and slid on a pair of gloves from his trench-coat pocket. Barry held up a plastic evidence bag containing a pistol, and John stepped closer to where Barry knelt for a closer look.

"Sig Sauer. Since they're so easy to conceal, they've become standard issue for most private security firms, law enforcement, even the US Secret Service uses them."

"Most likely guess it belongs to Taylor, Mr. Grey's security guy. Found a cell phone too. Screen's seriously cracked, have to get it back to the lab in order to get anything off it. Guessing it belonged to Taylor also, but won't know for sure until I get them back to the lab. Have the Greys been notified?" Barry asked as he stood up.

"Commissioner Gordon is sending someone to Gotham General now. Would not want to be that guy. Notifying next of kin is the worst." John said.

"Does it ever get easier?"

"Well," John sighed heavily, "it doesn't get any harder, I can tell you that much. How does telling someone their son, daughter, mom or dad isn't coming home again ever get easier? Just hope you never get used to it. I'm going to do some checking around." John left the room as Barry carefully stepped over the debris of the entryway, and did a careful visual analysis of the wall. On closer inspection there were two small holes in the wall. Bingo!

"We have," Barry said to himself as he meticulously pried free what looked like two small metal pellets from the wall, "bullets looks like! Yes!" Barry individually bagged them and put them with the rest of the physical evidence he had gathered so far. Then, his cell phone buzzed. "Yeah?"

"Barry, I'm on the roof. There's something I think you should see." Wait, how did John get on the roof? Oh right, Barry thought, you aren't the only one who can go through walls. Barry carefully made his way to the stairs and went up to the roof. Barry met John over by a mangled HVAC unit.

"Well John, think we've found the cause of the fire. I hope," Barry said wryly as he knelt next to John.

"Whoever it was, planted a bomb in the HVAC," John explained. Barry carefully gathered as many pieces of the bomb as he could, bagging them individually.

"And the penthouse has its own independent HVAC. Grey was likely targeted." John looked knowingly at the source of the deep voice behind them.

"What took you so long?"

"Traffic," Batman deadpanned. Barry turned around and stood up slack-jawed.

"You! You're real. And here. Really here," Barry stammered.

"Focus, Barry."

"Right, it's just—anyway, you think Grey was targeted? Why? Who would target them? Who else knew Grey would be here?"

"All good places to start Barry. Better get back to the lab and get started." John turned to leave.

"Wait, how much do you know about—" Barry turned to ask Batman, but was gone.

"You'd think you get used to that," John muttered as he and Barry started back down the twenty-five flights of stairs to the lobby of the Gotham Royale hotel.


Christian weaves in and out of traffic, holding the steering wheel held in a white-knuckle grip as we race toward Gotham General Hospital. While I couldn't put it past him, I can't believe he hung up on Dr. Thompkins so abruptly. Yes, it's urgent but more information would have helped.

"You could have waited until we knew more before hanging up on Doctor—"

"There's no time, Ana! Something's wrong."

"And we don't know what that is. You didn't let her explain anything!"

"I just reacted, Ana. I know I panicked."

"Let her explain when we get to the hospital, Christian. And apologize for hanging up on her." Christian says nothing as we miraculously make it to Gotham General Hospital without getting stopped by Gotham Police. No sooner than we arrive are we met by Dr. Thompkins. She's still wearing her dress from Mr. Wayne's reception.

"What happened?" Christian half shouts at her.

"Christian! Sorry, Doctor."

"Don't be, and Leslie please. I've had more than my fair share of patients and patients' families bite my head off. Though this conversation would be more suited for my office. This way, please." we follow her through the activity of the hospital and a maze of hallways; she meets a nurse and looks approvingly over a patient's chart without even breaking stride. "He's still in surgery? Let me know as soon as he's out. And if he so much as blinks, call me," she tells the nurse, handing the chart back to her as we continue on.

"Doctor, is it usually this—?"

"Active? This is actually a slow night, Mrs. Grey." She ushers us into her office. "Please sit down," we sit in front of her desk, and she sighs heavily. "Are you staying at the Gotham Royale hotel?"

"Yes, why?" there is a long pause before her answer.

"Our burn unit's been getting first to second degree burn victims from a fire at that hotel," another pause, "that seems to have started around the twenty-fifth story penthouse."

"What the fuck are you saying?"

"There's a man in surgery, a Jason Taylor—"

"What the—" I have to commend Doctor Thompkins for maintaining her composure in the face of Christian's temper.

"He's still in surgery, Mr. Grey. He was very seriously injured."

"Leslie, while we were at Mr. Wayne's reception, he was with our son, Ted." There was an even longer pause.

"GCFD and paramedics searched the room, and only found Mr. Taylor." What? No. What is she saying? "It's early in GCPD's investigation, but results so far have led them to believe—"


A mournful wail, barely muffled by the walls of Leslie Thompkins' office, resonated through the corridors. Inside the office was the trembling, sobbing, red-eyed Anastasia Grey. As Christian rocked her silently in his arms, Leslie Thompkins remained silent. There is no way delivering bad news ever got easier.