Dick had Alfred drop him off in a deserted alleyway devoid of security cameras. It was only a couple of blocks away from the Center so Bruce and Thomas couldn't get mad at him for 'over exerting himself.' Honestly, it was almost as if they knew he planned to take the rooftop express.

He adjusted the thigh brace as he hobbled towards a fire escape.

"That's not going to help you along in your healing, young and quick to bounce back or not."

Dick turned towards Tobias' familiar voice. "Tobias!"

-.-.-.-

"Easy there now." The tall man braced the injured young man, acting as a human crutch. "We've got a foxhole nearby - but no parkour for you mister."

Rick sighed as weight shifted off his still healing thigh. "Thank you for all your help with everything. I'm going to have to keep my head down to avoid the people coming after me for a little while longer but if I keep my distance I don't think they'll come after you."

"Are you talking about those Owl guys?"

"I thought...You didn't know about the Owls. Bruce said you didn't know about the Owls."

"He probably didn't know. I've been speaking to Thomas, not Bruce. By the way, I looked up that thing about calling surgeons 'Mr.' and it's more a British English thing than an American English thing. Where'd you learn that?"

"Uh…" Alfred had called Thomas 'Mister' and Rick had asked. Alfred, who after living in America for however many years still spoke with a strong British accent. "A British person. I thought it was universal. But that's not the point. How much do you know?"

"Well, admittedly information on these people is… let's say difficult to get a hold of. But when the Skulk has had visits by folk in weird, fetishy mice costumes - you start to want to know what you can."

Rick stopped. "Mice costumes? Anything about a squirrel? Guy in red lensed goggles?"

Tobias looked at Rick, "That's pretty much the description Jazz and Zee gave us, and Doug said you basically confirmed that it was a cult. Costumed cultists mean that we need to consider that conspiracies and folktales might actually be real and what's the most prolific urban legend in Gotham? The Court of Owls - easy enough."

"You've… certainly done some research."

"Less research, more speculation to be honest Johnson."

"They've tracked you guys down? You need to cease all contact with me - they can't get you if -"

"If you're going to say we shouldn't help you because it's dangerous and that I should think of lil' Toby - don't go there. That's what we've been doing, that's what we will do regardless. The Network has Corporal Montoya and other little connections here and there."

"Someone sounds defensive."

Tobias sighed. "I understand Johnson, more than you'd think. You're caught up in something far larger than you and you're desperately fighting for any ground you can get in a situation in which they are winning. What I'm telling you is that no one has to go at it alone. You've got people. The Network. The Waynes. Heck, I heard from Montoya that she heard Sergeant Riordan had a helpful 'guardian angel' look after her witness - I'm assuming that's you."

Tobias looked at Rick, "I know you want to keep us safe, but we've been involved in this game far longer than you think. The Waynes, the Network, the clean police and you? We've all been slowly reclaiming Gotham, we just never knew who was sitting across from us on the other side of the board."

He opened the door to the safehouse, "And thanks to you, now we do. The least we can do is make sure you can keep ahead. And before you go disappearing again, please think about the Waynes? Dr Wayne said he's going to try to discreetly come in for a visit to check up on your progress."

Rick looked at him mulishly, and sighed. "Fine."

-.-.-.-

Corporal Montoya flicked through her notes on the upcoming Detective exam, groaning as she pushed them aside to return to the research she was doing into the white-collar hacker duo Giz and Mouse (and whatever they were doing to sniff about the Network - heck, the knowledge that the Court of Owls was not just a creepy nursery rhyme was enough to permanently set her on edge).

"Rough day Corp?" Barbara Gordon smirked as she leaned against the 'wall' of the Corporal's cubicle. It wasn't as fancy as the actual room that Kate got but it was a darn sight better than the desk Babs had to share with three other greenhorns.

"Ugh, revision is killing me. Also, tracking down where Giz and Mouse have gone has been - interesting. I think this would have been a better case to hand over to you rookies really, didn't some of you take computer science as one of your GED subjects or something?"

"...Is this something to do with me being part of the robotics and programming extracurriculars or something?"

"Well it was on your CV."

Babs rolled her eyes, "Well, I will be happy to help out Corp. But really I came over here because the Sergeant…"

"Is trying to track down our resident guardian angel?"

"Yeah, she's trying to assemble a team of people she thinks she can trust to maybe smudge the line a little in the interest of the better good."

"It's still vigilante activity rookie."

Barbara massaged the back of her neck, "Yeah, I know. But I mean - it's been easier you know? Witnesses stopped vanishing. More people started trusting us. We've been getting helpful random tip offs and nicely packaged subdued petty crims…"

Montoya chuckled, "Looks like Serge really has gotten to you."

"Montoya! Gordon! Please come to my room now!" came Sergeant Riordan's voice from across the room.

"Huh. Wonder what that's about?"

-.-.-.-

Kate Riordan's room was, to put it in a polite manner, organised chaos.

"Alright girls, I think we could really start making some more waves if we can just get into darn contact with our darn guardian angel."

"No offense Serge," Montoya cut in, "but you're looking for a non-ferrous needle in a haystack."

"And it's not like we could get up onto the roof, slap a figure on a spotlight, shine it at the sky and hope for the best." Barbara added, "What would we even put on it? A random winged person? Does our witnesses' guardian angel even know that they are being called a guardian angel?"

"Why are they being a 'guardian angel' for that matter? Just because they saved a couple of our witnesses doesn't mean that this person is on our side." Montoya added, brow furrowing in thought. "I wanna know why they are so invested in helping. Guilty conscience? Revenge? This might be too good to be true Serge."

"Which is why we need to contact them - whoever they are." Kate mused staring at her cork board.

Montoya looked at Sergeant Riordan, "With all due respect Serge, how do we know we're not wading into unknown waters here. We haven't even made the connections between all the random 'presents' we've been receiving. Aren't you the least bit suspicious?"

"I mean," Kate shrugged, "If someone is willing to work a little outside the law on our behalf - isn't it better if we recruit them?"