From the moment the sun had risen to the second it set, Jason Todd had been diligently researching; Each and every piece of information found was heavily scrutinized. Clue after clue received the same treatment. What is so important that he would willingly miss patrol? That would cause him to put aside his duties as Robin? His mother. His honest-to-goodness biological mother! By the time he finished his search, an especially luminous full moon hung high in the sky. Gotham's ghastly smog stood no chance against its' brilliant light. And Jason has a lead. A lead that will hopefully guide him to his mother: Sheila Haywood, Shiva Woosan, or Sharmin Rosen. One of those three women is his mother.

He sat there with his head propped up by his hands, staring at the Batcomputer. A cacophony of emotions rattled Jason's being. The pesky feelings have been tormenting him ever since he learned he has a living, breathing mother out there... waiting for him to find her. Of those emotions, guilt is his greatest tormentor. It whispered terrible things about what he is doing- researching behind Bruce's back.

Why does this feel so much like I am betraying him? Because he's like a father to me?

His eyes narrowed. With a few clicks on the keyboard, Jason deleted his searches and findings. Then he hopped out of the chair and stalked toward the stairs.

Suck it up, Jason! Think of your mother. She is out there, waiting for you.

Once at the top, he pressed the correct series of numbers on the keypad to access Bruce's study.

Bruce will understand. If he had a secret mother out there, he'd do anything to find her.

Jason exited the room and began his journey. He navigated the twisting, turning corridors of the Manor until his bedroom door stood right in front of him. A simple turn of the handle is all it took to get in the room. As he entered, he shut the door behind him, flicking on the lock. It's a habit. One neither Bruce nor Alfred mind. But, right now, it felt more like cementing a betrayal than a safety precaution. Especially with everything going on. Willis' belongs, the damaged paper, his secret mother- That is a lot to take in. Jason's not sure he can handle this. These feelings of wrongness. Needless to say, he could really use a cigarette; Nothing is going to stop him from getting one.

Jason marched over to his absurdly large bed and peered underneath it. Stuffed in the space is a bag. A get-the-hell-out-of-dodge bag. It contained everything a person - well, a street kid - could ever want: Non-perishable foods, a few spare clothes, simple toiletries, various weapons (pocket knife, tire iron, etc.), a refillable water bottle, fire starters (lighter and more etc.), and most importantly, cigarettes. However, upon rifling through the bag, he discovered a certain item longer dwelled amongst the emergency supplies.

"Damn it! Why do my fuckin' cigarettes keep disappearing?!" Jason growled, carefully placing the removed articles back into the bag. I thought for sure Alfred wouldn't find them here- How the hell can he claim he doesn't have any fuckin' superpowers?

With a frustrated sigh, the bag got shoved under the bed. Minus a few items. "Guess I need just get my shit together so I can go, anyways."

It took the better part of an hour to get everything: his Robin suit, some batgadgets, a notebook containing info on where he needs to go, essentials (water, energy bars, etc.), and so on. Alfred's presence did not make it easy to acquire them. The man is practically clairvoyant when it comes to knowing what's going on in the Manor. Jason had to 'stealth' around him on more than one occasion, likely failing and not being called out by the self-proclaimed 'normal' butler. Thankfully, there is no longer a need to sneaking around him. Alfred had retired for the night.

Thus making Jason's quest much easier.

Time to go, he thought with a heavy heart. The bad feelings from before had yet to go away, but Jason knew this had to be done. He has to find his mother. If he doesn't, it will become one of his greatest regrets later in life. Slinging a stuffed, black backpack over his shoulder, Jason approached one of the room's windows. The weight of the bag seemed to increase with each step- No. No, it isn't the bag. It's his guilt. A weighted force doubling in strength along with his trepidation. Regardless, his hand hesitantly reached for the window's latch and undid it.

There is no going back.

Jason opened the window and steeled his nerves for the impending flood of unpleasant emotions. What happened next, though, he could have never predicted. A chill filled the room; Not the kind of chill caused by Gotham's frigid air. One could call the sudden temperature drop... supernatural. He paid the unnatural presence in the room no mind, continuing with his plan- That is until the escape route before him slammed shut. Jason jumped away from the closed window, startled.

"THE FUCK?!" The moment those words echoed across the room, he realized his mistake and silently prayed. Please, please, please have not heard that, Alfred.

A moment passed, and nothing stirred. By some miracle of God, the sharp-eared butler remained peaceful unaware of the events taking place in the Manor. Jason let out a sigh of relief. Now the only problem is that window. No amount of scrutiny could reveal a cause to its' sudden close.

"Okay, window, what's hell is wrong with you?" Jason pulled on the window; It stood firm against the force exerted on it, not budging an inch. Odd. Perhaps abnormal. Yes, the Manor has special protocols and security systems (that they have, thankfully, never needed to use), but this is not one of them. At least, he doesn't think it's one. Bruce would have told him if his windows would randomly close with no clear cause. Wait a minute, Jason thought. Didn't Dick mention something once? Something about the Manor and a... ghost?

The phantom voice of Dick Grayson echoed in his mind, I'm serious, Jay. The Manor is haunted!

It was a ridiculous conversation. One Jason thought nothing of. After all, who really believes in ghosts and fairies and all that magical stuff? However, there might be some truth to Dick's mad rambling, especially about the Manor being haunted. His next plan had to be, by far, the most idiotic thing he has ever done. (Not counting the popcorn incident. That took the top spot for 'worst idea ever'.) Jason took a deep breath and spoke, "You may not like this, Ghost, but this is something I have to do. I need to see my mom... So, please let me out."

After a moment of awkward silence, the window slowly opened without so much as a squeak.

Well, guess Goldie was right.

"Thanks." Jason placed a foot on the windowsill and glanced back at his room. "I'll be back in a few days, so I'm counting on you to keep my bed warm. I doubt you have anywhere better to haunt, anyways."

Just as he hopped out the window he could have sworn he heard a young male say 'be safe'.

The moment Jason hit the ground, with a subtle thump, he whipped around and looked up at the window. An unhealthily pale, raven-haired teen with dead icy blue eyes stared down at Jason, casually leaning on the windowsill. A small smile graced the teen's lips as he waved 'goodbye' to him. Then, as quickly as the mysterious teen appeared, he vanished like a ghost when Jason blinked.

I guess every giant, secluded mansion is bound to have a ghost or two... But really, Bruce? Black hair and blue eyes? Even your ghosts need to match that description?

Jason snorted softly, Narcissist.

On this night, Gotham's infamous cloud cover had dispersed in the early hours of the evening. Shades of red, pink, and orange no longer colored the sky. Instead, muted stars and bright crescent moon adorned the blackness. Yet, despite the clear sky above, a heavy atmosphere encompasses Gotham. Especially the Wayne Family Cemetery. Amongst the tombstones is one labeled with a very important name:

Jason Todd,
A beloved son and brother.
1998-2011

A lone figure stood in the gloomy rows of graves- The Phantom. At the moment, his hair is as black as night; his eyes are a hair-raising blue hue, like the coldest ice. He planted himself in the cemetery long ago. More specifically, in front of Jason Todd's final resting place... A younger brother's grave amidst a sea of others. The teenage specter's head hung low, defeat and sorrow rewritten on his features. A shaking hand slid into his pocket and clutched a pack of cigarettes. Jason's cigarettes. He had stolen them from the boy mere days ago, and now they remained his last memento of the lion-hearted, brash, younger teen. A few tears dripped down his face. Even after all the hours of crying, it seems he still has some left.

"He's dead... That night I- I could have stopped him, but I didn't." The ghost whispered, voice cracking and wet. "I should have stopped him. I should have tried harder to protect him."

With more tears rolling down his cheeks, he tipped his head back and stared at Gotham's night sky. "I'm sorry, B-"

Snap.

The phantom jolted at the sound of a twig breaking in half. Whirling around to face the noise's direction, he spotted a young boy creeping through the darkness, and rows of graves. The way the boy melted into the shadows was amazing. And worrying. Very worrying. If not for that twig's warning, he would have never known someone was here.

Why a child of all people is here at this hour, he will never know.

However, the single white lily clutched in the boy's hand indicated a more morose reason for their appearance. Visiting a loved one, perhaps? Offering condolences to a relative of a deceased family member? Regardless, none of those things is something a child should be doing at night. In Gotham.

Though the living-dead teen could not recognize the small raven (as a friend, enemy, or other), he decided to leave the child to his mourning. After all, what harm can a grief-ridden boy do? Aside from vow revenge or et cetera. The ghastly teen spared one last glance at Jason's tombstone before vanishing, leaving the boy to find an 'unvisited' grave. As he faded from the visible plane, he couldn't help but wonder:

Maybe I'll see you on the other side?