Carmine Falcone sports a new suit, nice shoes, and an arrogant smile as he walks out the courthouse as a free man. Multiple reporters snap pictures of him and reports fight each other to ask him questions.

Francis steps forward. "Our client has no comment at this time."

Carmine stops them. "Now now, Francis. It's the freedom of the press, so I can spare a few moments," His lawyers nod as Carmine speaks to them. "I will have time for a few questions until I have be somewhere,"

One reporter pushes her way to the front. She has red hair and is wearing a purple jacket with black jeans and black heels.

"Vicki Vale of the Gotham Gazette. Any comment to those who believe that you bribed your way out of Arkham Asylum?"

Carmine makes a belly laugh before responding to Vicki. "My dear, those people you refer to are old business rivals and those people are thinking of the old me. I assure you, I have earned my parole and plan to reenter society as a free man."

"Mr. Falcone, Jack Ryder here," Jack Ryder shoves Vicki aside to her annoyance. "I never got to ask you this before your arrest, but any comment on the Batman disappearance or the confiscation of the Bat Signal?"

Tim Drake sits in the living room, glaring at the screen. He can see Carmine smirk with satisfaction before he answers the question. "Yes, I do have a comment, Mr. Ryder. We have relied too much on that winged freak and I believe it's time to get back to reality without the silly costumes and maniacs running this town. That is all."

More pictures are snapped of him before the TV is shut off. Tim turns around and sees Alfred with the remote.

"I was watching that." Tim grumbles.

"I don't think it's wise to worry, Master Tim. The GCPD is currently keeping him under the radar. They'll know if he slips up." Alfred informs him as he offers a tray of biscuits.

Tim says one of the biscuits from the tray. "I hope that's enough, Alfred. For Gotham's sake." He takes a bit from the biscuits.

Carmine Falcone tells his driver to take him to the Falcone Shipping yard. He does as he's told and he arrives at a dock where big ships are docked.

He steps out of the car and walks to a man in a suit. He has white hair and wrinkles on his face.

"Sal, good to see you." Carmine shakes his hand.

The man named Sal is startled. "Should you even be here? Your Parole Officer–"

Carmine waves that off. "He's been given a bonus. He won't be a problem."

Sal shrugs. "Very well. Shall we get onto business?" Carmine nods.

"How is business since I was away?"

"We did what you said. We've been running things while you were in the loony bin," His curiosity peaks him. "Was it as bad as it sounds?"

Carmine scoffs. "Never saw that part of it. Since I was considered a prisoner and not a patient, I wasn't anywhere near the freaks."

Sal understands. "Right, I suppose it would've been that way since Blackgate shut down and everyone goes to that place after the guilty plea."

"I was given special privileges, so it was practically a vacation." Carmine says with glee. "But now that's over with, it's time I take back the business."

Sal smiles. "I was hoping you'd say that. The drugs are on the ships, plus the weapons. Feels like old times, right?"

Carmine has a minute of nostalgia. "It does, doesn't it? But now that the vermin problem is out of the way, this city is ours to take back."

In the corner, a woman is crouching in the corner with a camera in her hands. Renee Montoya is on their trail.

Back at his base, the man who calls himself Black Mask looks over the weapons supply and is satisfied. "Good, just make sure they're not conspicuous. We need to remain in the shadows for now."

The masked men nod as a man without a mask starts running towards him yelling, "Boss, boss!"

Black Mask turns to the man and asks, "What is it?"

He takes a second to get a breath, a second that annoys his boos and knows he has to cut to the chase. "I was at the docks as you said and it doesn't look good," He takes photos out of his pockets. "Here's what they have?"

Black Mask takes the photos and pats the man on the head. "Very good, Reggie. Now get some water or something."

Reggie thanks his boss as Black Mask looks over the photos with an unimpressed look on his face until he notices something unusually. "Wait!"

Reggie stops in his tracks as Black Mask puts one picture in his face. "Who? Is? This?!" The picture shows a woman taking photographs of the docks.

Reggie stumbles over his words. "I-I-I think that's Commissioner Montoya of the GC-P-PD, sir!"

Black Mask doesn't respond, only stares at the photograph that has been presented to him. One of his goons says with smug satisfaction, "Huh, looks like they're doing our job for us." He laughs.

That gets Black Mask's attention. "We are NOT gonna let those pigs get him before we do!" The goons jump back. "If we are going to present strength in this town, then we will earn that strength by taking down the strongest animal in the jungle!"

One of the goons asks . "W-w-well, what do you want us to do, boss? Whatever it is, we'll do it." The goon promises and the other nod in response.

Black Mask slams his fist on the table before laughing. This startles and confuses the goons.

"Oh this is better," Black Mask takes a lighter out of his suit jacket. He flicks the lighter on and lights up the photo as it melts in flames. "Boys, bring the car around! We're going for a drive!"

Tim Drake's car stops in a parking lot. He gets out after Alfred turns off the car and they both look at a building. It's a tall brick building with a sign that reads, "Apartment Complexes, owned by Drake Industries."

Alfred tells him, "Can you help me carry some of this, Master Timothy?"

Tim says, "Of course," He goes to the other side and grabs both of the freshly smelling pizza boxes as Alfred carries a bag that contains sodas and breadsticks.

They make their way inside and it's a nice building because Tim made it that way when he built it two years ago. They find the elevator and Alfred presses the button to the twelfth floor. This is a regular routine for Tim Drake as he's been here countless times to visit a friend.

The elevator door opens, revealing the twelfth floor. Tim and Alfred walk down until they stop at a door that reads 'Gordon Residence'.

The well dressed older man knocks on the door and a voice says from the other side. "Coming!"

Tim and Alfred smiles as the door opens to reveal a young woman with long auburn hair in a light green sweater with long sleeves and blue jeans. She has on glasses that reflect her blue eyes and she sits in a wheelchair but that doesn't stop her from wearing sneakers over her socked feet.

She smiles with enthusiasm. "Hey guys! Come on in."

They walk into the penthouse and it's big. Tim had this place designed with two master bedrooms that each have their own bathrooms, a kitchen that you can see when walking in, the floors with hardware wood floors, a living room that has a big TV and couches, along with a balcony that comes with a great view.

After Tim and Alfred set everything down on the kitchen counters, hugs are given by the woman.

"I know it's just been two days, but it feels like forever!" Barbra says, making Alfred laugh.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Barbra. Work has been busy and all." Tim scratches his head.

Barbra waves it off. "It's fine. Work at the Library has been swamped too."

Footsteps are heard and in comes a young man carrying a bag of ice. He has glasses just like Barbra, but he has brown hair and wears a brown coat and pants, along with a tie.

"Hey, I got the bag of ice," The man says before noticing the two men in the room. He smiles brightly. "Timmy, Al, great to see you guys have made it!"

He hugs Tim and Alfred before he puts the ice in the silver fridge.

Alfred smiles. "You are the spitting image of your father, young Jimmy Gordon."

Barbra smiles proudly. "That's my brother."

Jim hugs Barbra and digs into the pizza. "Eh, I try. So, how's the Real Estate thing been going for you?"

Tim sighs in exhaustion as he collapses on the couch. "Busy. Very, very busy. But also rewarding."

Alfred pours himself a drink and says proudly. "Young Master Drake has created affordable housing for all of Gotham."

Tim blushes. "Not all of Gotham, Al. It's still a small company and we have ways to go before we reach all of it."

Jimmy says, "Bruce would be proud! He must be smiling in his grave right now."

Tim pauses and his eyelids twitch. Something he said has made him…indescribable.

Barbra takes notice and clutches his hand in comfort. "He's right, Tim. I think he would've."

Alfred says, "Your father would be proud too, Mr. Gordon. You're studying the law, hoping to become an officer just like him."

Barbra giggles. "Who knows, you could be Commissioner too."

Tim points his finger accusingly. "Hey, don't try to steal Renne's job. She's a natural at it."

Jimmy raises his hand in defense. "Hey, they said it, not me," He takes a bite out of his pizza. "Besides, things might be too crazy to join the Department."

Barbra puzzles. "What does that mean?" Tim and Alfred glance at each other, not knowing how she would take the news.

"You didn't hear?" Jimmy asks, Barbra shakes her head confused. "Carmine Falcone got out of Arkham on Parole."

Barbra nearly chokes on her pizza. "Wait, what?"

Jimmy says, "That's what I said! Let's just hope Renee keeps an eye on that old bastard."

Barbra looks conflicted at the news. She becomes slightly pale and takes another drink of soda to wash down the news. Alfred clears his throat, hoping to change topic. "So how's the library been for you, Miss Gordon?"

Barbra plays along with Alfred's tactic. "Being a librarian has its perks. I helped a kid with reading today."

Jimmy pats her on her shoulder. "That must've felt rewarding."

Barbra smiles at Jimmy. "Not as rewarding as physical therapy is going to be next Tuesday."

Tim asks, "Still going every Tuesday and Thursday?"

Barbra responses. "Yes, I am and it's really been helping me get back on my feet." She quickly recognizes the bad joke. "Not literally, it's…it's just been helping."

It's Barbra's turn to have her hand comfortably squeezed by Jimmy. "I'm glad it's helping you. You've been doing really well." Tim and Alfred agree as Jimmy gets up. "Look, I know these four years have been…troubling for all of us. But I think we've been getting better and I think we all need to make a toast."

Barbara agrees. "I'll drink to that."

Alfred says, "To making ourselves better."

"Here here!" Everyone shouts.

Jimmy turns on the TV and the news still has nothing to talk about and still focuses on the whole Carmine Falcone thing. Tim Drake fades into the background as a memory from a long time ago starts to enter his mind.

He was in an office but it's not Real Estate related. No, he was taking cover behind a pool table as bullets were fired at him.

Two men fired the guns that shot at him. "You're dead, ya winged brat!"

He was 18 years old when this night occurred, but just because of his age didn't mean that he was defenseless.

He sees that below his feet was a floor gate that led him directly under the thugs. He crouched down and crawled until he was below the two men who fired at him.

"Is he dead?" One thug asked.

"We have to keep him away from the boss!" The other thug stressed.

"Good luck with that." Remarked Tim Drake, who was below them. Before they could react, Tim Drake jumped out and attacked them. He knocked them both to the ground and they were unconscious for the time being.

On that night, Tim Drake wore a dark red combat suit that had the letter R on the right side of the armor's chest. To hide his face, a black mask was worn over his face, black gloves and combat boots were also worn, along with a black cape that was two inches above the floor.

He pressed a button on his cowl and through his eyes, it was called 'Detective Mode'. It allowed him to see walls, infrastructure and people's heat signatures. He saw that no one was in the other room besides the man he was looking for – Carmine Falcone.

He kicked the doors down and yelled, "Put your hands up, Falcone! Now!"

Carmine glared at him. "Red Robin. You do know that this is breaking the law, correct?"

Red Robin impatiently waved that off. "Cut the crap, Falcone! The GCPD has evidence of your operations! You lost!"

Carmine lost his cool and controlled demeanor and it was replaced with an angry and shaking old man. He reached for something on his desk.

"If I'm going to jail, then I'm gonna at least get rid of the last Vigilante in Gotham!" He pulled out a pistol.

Red Robin was unable to dodge the attack and was shot onto the ground.

Double R tried to stand up, but Carmine kicked him back to the ground.

"You got guts, kid, I'll give you that. But that's what you're gonna be giving out in a few moments!" Falcone puts the gun right in front of his face. "You're not Batman. Never were, never will be. Sorry, son…but you don't cross Carmine Falcone!"

As he was about to fire the trigger, Red Robin was able to get a shuriken out of his utility belt and strike it into his leg. "Ahhh!"

Tim found himself and pushed him onto the table and punched him multiple times as the gun dropped on the floor, forgotten.

The fight ended when the GCPD walked in the room, demanding that Falcone be brought to them.

Red Robin grabbed him and said, "You can have him." He pushed him to the cops and limped out the doorway.

One officer called out to him. "Hey kid!" Robin turned around and faced Harvey Bullock, who had barely aged a day. "You should get some rest. Maybe take off the suit for a while."

Tim was surprised by his concern since he always had prejudice against vigilantes. but responded anyway. "Thank you…Detective Bullock."

He breathed heavily and slowly limped away from the building.

Tim Drake is in the present and shakes off the memory. He quit being Red Robin because he couldn't save this city without Batman, his partner. He tried for a while but it nearly got him killed. One time, Alfred had to use a defibrillator to bring him back to life due to a heart attack.

He notices that barely no time has passed during his nostalgic moment. His eyes stare at the TV screen as it continues to give facts about Carmine Falcone. A question that doesn't have an answer yet keeps rattling in his mind; Did he do the right thing? Should he have quit being Red Robin?

*Ring Ring*

Tim jumps in fright as his phone rings in his pocket. Everyone stares at him in startelement and wonders if Tim is okay, especially Barbra and Alfred who know Tim Drake better than others know him and that includes Jimmy.

Tim picks up the phone. "Hel-Hello?"

"Hey, it's Bullock. You okay, you sound spooked."

Tim responds with, "I'm fine, Bullock. What's up?"

"Renee wants us to meet at the pub. She said it was important."

Tim says, "Okay. I'll be right there." He hangs up.

"What's up?" Jimmy asks.

Tim grabs his suit coat. "Renee and Bullock want to meet up. I'll be back in a few."

Alfred stands up. "Would you like me to drive you, sir?"

Tim shakes his head. "No, I'll be fine. Just stay here and relax."

Tim walks out of the apartment without another word.

"What the hell was that?" Jimmy asks in concern.