"We can't. We can't say anything. You know that." What in the hell was that supposed to mean?

The sun was just starting to come up. He could see the faintest orange rays stretching out from behind the buildings. He was on one himself, legs dangling over the edge. Underneath the treads of his boots, the grid-like streets stretched out far below.

"I know," he heard Connor replied. Upon hearing his voice, Jason stopped twirling his handgun. "We have a lot to do."

"Can you just give me a minute?" Jocelyn asked, her tone practically a plea.

"Yeah. Of course."

Before he left them at the mall, Jason had planted a small bug on Connor. He didn't really know why he'd done it. It wasn't like he'd hear anything he wanted to hear. It had just been done instinctively.

On the other end, no one said anything for a while. All Jason could hear was the short, stifled gasps of her quiet sobbing. He could imagine her sitting on the run down steps of the escalator. She didn't cry often, and when she did, she'd cover her mouth like she was afraid of making too much noise. He would put his arm around her and tell her it was okay. It was okay to let it out. Then she'd put her hand down, lean her head against him, and cry freely. One time, she had even fallen asleep like that, her head on his shoulder. She hadn't stirred when he brushed the wet streams from her face. He remembered the sight of her closed eyes, her lashes fanned out, and her relaxed lips parted—.

Jason let out an irate huff as he quickly pulled himself up onto his feet. With his grapple, he quickly descended down the building. He was just about to shut off the bug when he heard Connor speak up.

"It was just a fit of emotion," he reassured. "He's reckless, remember? What's to say he won't change his mind?"

"He was right," Jocelyn replied. "We stopped seeing eye-to-eye a while ago, but he still cared. He always cared. And then I do this." She let out a shaky breath. "Maybe it's better this way."

Damn right it was better this way. This was what she deserved after throwing him away like that. Jason had to insist that to himself over and over again as he walked through the dark streets. At the same time, Jocelyn's sadness seemed to bleed through the earpiece and infect him.

He'd heard enough for now. He disconnected the bug, and her voice disappeared. With her completely gone, he couldn't help but feel hollow. "It's better this way," he muttered to himself.

Suddenly, he heard something. Jason broke out of his deep spell just in time to jerk backwards as a gunshot blared out and a hole burst in the stretch of wall in front of him. In a flash he had his own handgun out and fired towards where he figured the shooter was. He saw a figure in the dark drop. Faintly, he heard a whirring and knew he had precious little time to get out of the way.

The Red Hood sprang forward and ran for his life. The whirring grew into a series of booms as a trail of bullet holes exploded behind him. As the line of fire was about to catch up to him, the Red Hood dove behind a large, graffiti-covered electric box. Crouching against the metal barrier, the Red Hood heard the hisses and crackles as the shredded wiring inside the box exploded.

"Quit hiding, freak!" he heard the machine-gunner shout over the roar of his weapon. Judging by the obnoxiousness in his voice, this guy was a run-of-the-mill goon. Except this one had a machine gun. Someone a little higher up the food chain had provided one, which only meant—.

"We've got him pinned! The rest of you lot get over there and finish him off!" he heard a voice order. A voice that belonged to one Oswald Cobblepot. The Red Hood turned his head. His helmet picked up the six men rushing towards him even before they came into view. Two were armed, and the rest were unarmed. They didn't concern him. The real challenge came from the machine gunner. He needed to stay behind the electric box, or find a way to stay out of the gunner's line of fire.

As the men came closer, the Red Hood lifted his gun and aimed towards an abandoned car that sat nearby. He squeezed the trigger. The small, stripped car jolted as the bullet ricocheted off of its rusty surface. One of the armed men collapse. The other hesitated, clearly rattled.

The Red Hood turned just as one of the other men came around the electric box. The thug swung a spiked plank. The Red Hood dodged, grabbed the thug, and then pushed him out from behind the electric box. He was accidentally killed by the jumpy gunman.

"What's brought this on?" the Red Hood shouted. Two more men appeared. A hollow thud rang through the electric box as one of their heads was slammed against it. The other man stumbled forward as the Red Hood's bullet tore through his leg. As he bucked forward, the Red Hood brought up a knee and smashed his jaw. "You still harboring a grudge about those explosives?"

"Explosives? We're all past that, old boy," Penguin replied. The Red Hood spotted him, hiding cozily behind the machine gunner. "The lads and I've a higher purpose now. We're getting rid of you and all the other vigilante bastards parading in our streets. The Overseer's making sure of that."

The Overseer. Connor had mentioned him. So he really was in Gotham. "Overseer, huh? I was beginning to wonder whose dick you guys were sucking these days."

"That's right, better get all those cheeky remarks out before we put you in the ground," Penguin said. To his gunner, he demanded, "What are you waiting for? Tear through that box!" The machine gun started up again and began firing at the electric box. It wouldn't protect him for long. The Red Hood looked around. There were no good angles to get a bullet off and take out the gunner.

Taking one last second to study his surroundings, the Red Hood sprang into action. As he emerged from behind the box, he pulled something from his belt and pressed the switch on it. Immediately, he was enveloped in a thick cloud of smoke. The machine gunner tore through the cloud, but each bullet passed harmlessly through.

"Enough, you git!" Penguin snapped. The whirring died down as the machine gunner stopped firing. "Quit firing at the smoke! He's long gone! Keep your eyes peeled for that slippery bastard." He turned to his remaining men. "The same goes for all of you. A nice, fat bonus is waiting for whoever serves me the Red Hood's head on a silver platter, you hear?"

"You got it boss!" was the eager response.

'Fuck my life,' the Red Hood thought bitterly as he crouched lower behind the stripped car. 'I'm being hunted down for an extra fistful of cash.' It had been a long time since he'd been pinned down like this. Normally, these kind of thugs wouldn't have lasted this long. The Red Hood would take out the ones that rushed up to confront him. The ones that lingered in the back to give supporting fire would be taken out by the Specter when she appeared right next to them.

But she wasn't here. Not anymore. She turned away from him. As he reminded himself, the Red Hood's hands tightened. His breathing became strained. But that was fine! That was perfectly fine!

So deep was the Red Hood in his thoughts and his brewing anger, he failed to notice the thug that had rounded the stripped car and spotted him. When he did see the thug, it was already too late. The Red Hood had barely registered the sight of the thug raising his gun when suddenly a blur of crimson flashed before his eyes. In the next instant, the gunman was unconscious on the ground.

The man who had appeared regarded the Red Hood with a brief glance before zipping away. But he was still nearby, the Red Hood knew. He was very familiar with that 'strike and vanish' tactic. It was something the both of them learned from Batman.

There was another cry. Someone else had just been taken out. "Boss, there's another one!" he heard one of the henchmen shout.

"So? Take him out too!" Penguin snapped back impatiently.

The Red Hood peeked from behind the car. He spotted Penguin disappearing behind the door of a van, which quickly peeled away. His quick retreat didn't help the morale of the men he'd left behind. In their panicked states, they were easy to pick off. The real challenge was the machine gunner—he wasn't letting up easy.

Nearly every piece of cover in the area had been blown to bits by that damn machine gun, and the Red Hood still hadn't gotten any closer to taking him out. "You're done for!" the machine gunner taunted. "Once I bring your lead-riddled corpse to the boss, I'm gonna get some nice padding in my wallet!"

The Red Hood scowled. There had to be some way to get closer. He looked up, scanning for anywhere to grapple to. But there were no good places to go. He took the smoke device and glanced at it. Using it would only get him so far.

Suddenly, he heard a voice retort, "You should've gotten some padding for a helmet instead." There was a loud thud, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. The Red Hood risked a peek and saw that the machine gun was unoccupied. Its operator was lying unconscious on the ground with Red Robin standing over him. "Thanks for keeping him distracted," he said.

The Red Hood straightened up. "That was the stupidest line I've ever heard," he grumbled.

Red Robin flashed him an amused look. "You're welcome."

"I didn't need your help."

"Well you got it." He looked around. "Where's Jo? Thought she'd be here with you."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" the Red Hood replied briskly as he began walking away. "Cobblepot's run off. Why don't you go do your little hero thing?" He reached up to his helmet and turned Connor's audio bug back on. He'd told himself that he wasn't going to do it. It was time to get on with his life. But he couldn't help it.

"—Way to do it," Connor was saying.

"And you said nearly every criminal in Gotham is connected to him?"

"Right. For someone who barely exists, he's got a pretty tight hold on the underworld of this city right now."

So they were already starting to plan. Well, it was certainly warming to know how quickly Jocelyn had dismissed his absence. But as he listened to her, there seemed to be something missing in her voice.

"What are you suggesting?" Jocelyn asked.

"We need to lure him out. Find out more about him through his connections."

"The criminals."

"Right. Are you ready to get 'captured' by them?"

Jocelyn sighed. "I hate doing this. I'm going to have to take my arm off, won't I?"

"The suit too. You gotta really sell the helpless state thing. And who knows, maybe it'll be convincing enough for Jason to come charging in to save you?"

There was a pause when Jocelyn didn't reply. Then, she said, "I don't think he will."

"Spec—."

"Let's just get started."

Addendum: Wait, when was the last time this was updated? Over a month? ... Whoops.