Chapter 13—Worries

"He's not answering his phone," Tim whispered. He and Jason were back in Gotham on Dick's insistence, following up on the Viscone case. He was still in Blackgate—Dick had been unable to get him transferred to Blüdhaven for trial—and the two had already grilled him. Now, as Red Hood and Red Robin, they were staking out the warehouses where his deals had gone down.

"Dammit!" Jason hissed. "Try again."

Tim punched the number in and put the phone to his ear. "Hello? May I speak to Dick Grayson, please? … Tim Drake, his adoptive brother. …What? How badly is he hurt? … Alright, thank you. … Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can. … Goodbye."

Jason was getting impatient. "Well?"

"Dick's car ran off the road," Tim said. "He was going too fast and he hydroplaned. They think his brake line might have been cut, but they have to examine the car first."

"Damn!" This was not supposed to happen. Dick was supposed to get what he needed over dinner and call, not leave early and get himself hurt. This was very bad for their already slow case. It was very possible that the Viscone lead was a dead end, and if it was, they would have nothing to go off of to stop Sarah.

"What do we do now?"

"You can go to the hospital in Blüdhaven, Tim," Jason ordered. "I'm gonna stake out this place."

"You can't make me go home," Tim protested. "You could use my help. This is more than a simple stakeout."

"Dick needs someone he knows at the hospital when he wakes up," Jason countered. He had no idea what was inside that warehouse, and as much as he hated the Replacement sometimes, he didn't want Tim to get hurt on this case. "Besides, you've never dealt with these people. Dick's been poisoned by this bitch twice in less than a year."

"She poisoned him on Thanksgiving?" Tim sounded very surprised.

"He left it out of the report because he had the antidote on him and he didn't want to worry anyone," Jason replied. "Now go." The order came out harsher than he meant it to. He looked away from Tim and put his binoculars up to his eyes. There was a car arriving.

Jason focused on the driver, finding that it was the same one from the night Sarah kissed him. For the briefest instant, Jason found that he missed the feeling of her lips on his—she was a good kisser—then it was gone. She was a psychopath. He had to remember that. The driver got out and opened the rear passenger door, offering his hand to whoever was inside. Jason pulled out one of his guns, ready to take out whoever stepped outside.

Sarah stepped out. Jason's finger tightened around the trigger, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to pull it. There was more going on here than he could perceive. Working with the Outlaws and his encounters with the All-Caste taught him that. His memories had only just been returned to him, and he'd finally come to terms with all that he'd done, coming out almost more bitter in some ways from the revelation, and yet in some ways, in a better state of mind.

"Jason!" Sarah called up to him after a moment. "Why don't you come down and join us, darling?"

Jason cursed and put away his binoculars before jumping down to meet her. "How did you know I was here?"

"Well Dick certainly isn't," she smiled devilishly. "And besides, I've been looking for some alone time with you since that night in the car."

"Yeah, well I don't want it, so no thanks," Jason lied, thankful she couldn't see his eyes through his helmet.

Sarah looped her arm through his and rested her hand in the crook of his elbow. "I think you do," she purred.

Jason merely shrugged and allowed himself to be led into the warehouse. This could possibly be helpful to his investigation.

Tim was halfway to Blüdhaven when he realized something wasn't right. Dick wouldn't have driven that recklessly in the rain, no matter how urgent things were. He would have just called. Unless he wasn't in his right mind. Tim used his communicator to dial the BPD and turned his bike around on the empty road to head back to Gotham.

He could hear the phone he called ringing for a few moments before it was answered. "Chief Franco, BPD."

"Chief, this is Red Robin," Tim stated quickly. "I've worked with Nightwing before in your city."

"Yes, yes, I know who you are," Franco replied, sounding very annoyed. "What do you want?"

"Officer Grayson was in a near-fatal car accident earlier this evening," Tim said. "I need you to order a toxicology report on Grayson, as well as order his car inspected immediately. Nightwing contacted me telling me he was investigating a drug lord in both Gotham and Blüdhaven. I believe he brought Grayson in as a consultant, and I need to know for sure."

"How would you be able to tell just from a toxicology report and an examination of his car?" Franco asked. She sounded like she was doubting the veracity of his statement.

"Because of how she works," Tim explained hurriedly. "Grayson may not have much time, Chief. I need to know so my partner and I can save him."

"And what makes you think that the doctors at the hospital cannot?"

"Because we're dealing with experimental drugs here. Nightwing was dosed with some a few days ago, and we were almost too late to save him. If you don't work with us, Grayson will die." Suddenly the realization that Dick might not ever wake up hit Tim, and he had to struggle to keep his voice emotionally detached. "My partner and I will contact you in one hour to know what you find." Before the chief had a chance to respond, Tim turned off his communicator and sped towards Gotham.

He rode in silence, thinking about what could happen. Jason and Dick had filled him in as much as they could, going back even to last Thanksgiving, but there were still a lot of holes in the investigation—too many considering Sarah had reached her endgame. There was just so much that failed to add up. How did Sarah keep this all hidden, especially when she was a Blüdhaven cop by day?

Tim's communicator beeped in his ear and he activated it. "What?"

"What's going on in the warehouse district?" came the annoyed, gravelly voice of Batman. "You were there twenty minutes ago."

"Not sure," Tim said. "Ask Jason, he could tell you."

"He's not answering his comm," Bruce growled.

"Well, I have no idea. I'm en route now. I'll let you know." Tim moved to hang up, but Bruce cut him off.

"Where's Nightwing?"

"Uh…" Tim didn't exactly know what to say. "He's… indisposed."

"What do you mean?" Bruce's voice lowered several more octaves than Tim thought possible.

"He was… uh… he was injured about an hour ago just outside of Blüdhaven," Tim explained. "He was working the case from that angle."

"What case?"

Tim mentally slapped himself. "Nightwing was working on a case since November, and he brought Jay in for help, and then Jay contacted me when he got poisoned." And he mentally slapped himself again. Why did he tell Bruce that?

"He was poisoned?"

"Yeah, but he's fine now," Tim said hurriedly. "And he will be. He was injured in his civilian ID, and I'm working with the BPD on finding out exactly what happened."

"Alright." Bruce didn't sound satisfied. "Just be careful." He clicked the comm off, but Jason knew he was going to spend the rest of the night monitoring his and Jason's progress, ready to step in if need be.

Well, I'm almost done this fic! Thanks so much to the few of you who have faithfully read and reviewed this story, especially the guests who have reviewed. (I wish I could have personally responded to you guys!)

Thanks for reading this chapter, and please leave me a review!

~Red~