Chapter 2:
"The Heart"

Nightwing turned his attention when he heard the scuff of boots in the alley in the distance. Red Hood came out of the shadows, he had not left the scene as originally thought.

Jason was used to the shadows, living within from day-to-day when he was a kid, thieving, and doing what he needed to survive with his parent's problems: sobriety and gangsterism. One fateful day, when he was trying to steal the tires of the Batmobile, he came across Batman, and was given a chance at another life. Instead of a life of thievery, Jason trained to be the next Robin after Dick left due to personal differences with Bruce's philosophy.

Jason became Bruce's partner and the new Dynamic Duo Batman and Robin was born. Together they fought numerous attempts by Gotham's Rogues to usurp authority.

Then came that fateful day when Jason was taken by Joker, beaten by a crowbar, and caught a massive explosion that took his life. He was dead before Batman even got to him and was buried in the Wayne graveyard just off the Mansion property.

Years later, something remarkable happened, that shook the entire Batfamily to its core! And it has still remained summarily unexplainable. Jason came back to life!

Jason explained later that he crawled out of his coffin and walked miles down the road, eventually collapsing, but found by some people, who took him to a nearby hospital where he received critical care.

Further unexplainable events soon transpired. His memories were fully restored when Damian's mother, Tamil Al Ghul placed him in a Lazarus Pit, which, by some members of the Batfamily, scrambled Jason's brains a bit. He became a mercenary for hire, a common street thug, then got involved in high grade weaponry, selling it on the black market to the highest bidder to make his way in life. Erstwhile, eliminating some of the most dangerous criminals on the street in gangster-like fashion taking up the mantle the Red Hood, an old Joker persona.

He eventually found his way back into the Batfamily fold after the family had a few unsavoury encounters with him, self battling his own personal demons. The family helping him where they could.

Nightwing clicked off his comm in his ear, ending his conversion with Tim and Damian. "I could really go for a smoke," he said to Jason.

"That doesn't sound like you, Dick," Jason said. "Whenever you caught me smoking, you would always chastise me. It's a habit I've had since I was a kid. After a dip in the Lazarus Pit, I hardly doubt nicotine will kill me. And I enjoy smoking. You've developed some weird habits after that whole affair in being shot. But wouldn't we all? Take me for instance—once a hero, now a gun-toting, serial killer of criminals. Still a hero at heart. We put it all out there with little thanks. Life just seems so, how would the French put it?" Jason mused, signed. "I know several different languages, but the French syntax always gets me…Pourquoi es-tu si sérieux? Why are [we] so serious? So, I agree. A little fanfare is well deserved every once in a while."

Dick laughed. "Yeah," he said. "My French is a little rusty. I could speak it fluently when I was in school, but when you don't use it for a while…Well, it's not like riding a bike."

"I guess that's why you're never rusty when it counts, eh Dickiebird?"

Dick produced a thin smile, catching the innuendo. He had had a lot of relationships in his time, not including Barbara—whom he was now married to, eloping. So no, that part of him wasn't rusty in the slightest.

Jason produced a pack of smokes and gave a stick to Dick. Dick looked at it, then give it back to Jason. He thought he needed it, but it had only been a passing whim. He wanted to keep his body healthy. When he was amnesic, he had stuffed his body with bad food and alcohol and he was still feeling the effects even months later.

Jason lifted the front of his mask, revealing his face. Then he lit a cigarette and put it in his mouth, puffing, and exhaled smoke, seemingly with a sigh. It seemed to relax him.

Dick noticed that Jason kept the white tuff in his hair that at one point he dyed out because someone told him that it made him look older. But it was a part of him now, a result of his resurrection, and possibly a symptom of Marie Antoinette Syndrome.

The story went, as told by witnesses, the Queen of France Marie Antoinette's hair turned completely white the night before she was to be executed by the guillotine during the French Revolution, a symptom of utter fright. It was a rare occurrence, but documentation showed that the hair of some people turned completely white after a deathly fright. Being buried alive would constitute that in Jason's case.

"I'm surprised you got out of your situation the way you did," Jason then said. "You could have died, Dick. Being shot in the head, so many things could have happened to you. You could have been paralyzed, or worse—a vegetable, laying bedridden. There was even a rumour that your grandfather William Cobb was after you and had plans to turn you into some sort of super soldier if Damian hadn't gotten to you first. For once I'm glad the little munchkin pushed to get involved despite Bruce's order not to. Temporarily moving to Bludhaven and being a mini-you was a nice touch with all the crime that was happening there after Slade's reign of destruction. Damian can be impetuous at times and hard-headed, but when push comes to shove, he's actually quite dependable. I'm even starting to like the twerp."

Dick nodded. "He's a good kid," he said. "And who knows, what you described could have happened to an alternative me. We know there's a multiverse out there and there are many me's. And as you know, Slade helped me, too. He's gone silent now with his new squeeze."

"Old men in love, gotta love it. Hey, if there's still fire in the pit, you gotten use the wick or lose it."

Dick shook his head, but Jason was right. Slade had found love and Dick was happy for his old trainer.

"Superman once remarked that you are a Universal Construct, Dick, and in every universe you are the same, for the most part. You can be relied on when times get tough. When you needed help, we were there for you, just like you've always been there for us, big bro! Well, minus an inch and a half."

Jason used a hand to gesture to indicate their height differences.

Dick smiled despite the mocking. "Just don't ask me for a piggyback ride," he said.

"Your shoulders couldn't handle me. You may be the older brother, but I'm—"

"Thicker," Dick joked.

Jason clenched his teeth. "Are you calling me hefty? I don't like that."

Dick cleared his throat. "Joker calls you the hefty Robin. But trust me, it's not to make fun of you. It's a jab at me. He hates me because I am the only one of us he can never manipulate, so he has to take out his frustration on someone, namely you, and probably because of your history you have with him."

"Yeah, well—sucks to be me. I think I need another smoke." He took a last puff of his cigarette and then flicked the butt away. It flew through the air towards the ground, then heard hit something—clink—like glass. Both looked in the direction Jason had thrown the butt and despite him standing next to it, Dick had not seen the large mason jar at his feet near the wall.

Nightwing shined a flashlight on it and both were struck with awe and disgust. Inside was a bloody human heart.

"Gruesome," Jason remarked. "Do you think this relates to the current case with Professor Bacon?"

Dick eyed him and then gently lifted the jar. It was indeed a human heart, an adult heart. But it was not beating. It must have belonged to one of Professor Pyg's victims and casually discarded like a useless piece of meat.

"Professor Pyg enjoys cutting up his victims and then piecing them together like Frankenstein monsters," Dick said. "He gets a sick pleasure out of it. This heart may belong to one of his most current victims. But I didn't see any human experimentation going on in his lab in the basement when we stormed in, only animals."

"But why pickle it and then hide it outside? It doesn't make sense."

"We should verify if it belongs to any of his other victims, past or present. Since the heart isn't beating, I would say its owner has already been utilized for something else. One of Professor Pyg's undead minions, perhaps? We've seen what he can do with biotechnology and a lot of mind manipulation."

"True," Jason said. "Guess we better call home I notify Alfred that they'll be one more coming for dinner."

Nightwing shook his head. "I thought I was the comedic one in the family. But not even I would make a joke that bad."

"It came from the heart," Jason smirked, then slowly put down his faceplate. "Trust me, Dick, you've made worst jokes in your time. Where do you think I get my humour from? I'm not all of dark and gloom. You've rubbed off on me over the years, the best qualities."

Nightwing smiled. "Thanks. That sounded so heartfelt that I think I'm going to cry."

Jason groaned under his breath.

To be continued...