The sun rose that morning, but Dick didn't know it. There were no windows in his cell, no taste of fresh air. His sense of smell had become adjusted to the stench of the tiny room so much so that Dick couldn't remember what fresh air smelled like. He paced the room from left to right wall as he had been doing for the past couple of hours now. Maybe it's been minutes, days? He couldn't be sure. The food window —as Dick had begun calling it— opened harshly. Rather than the usual plate of meat, a rat was pushed in by a white, cloth gloved hand. The window shut quickly and was latched. Dick approached the rat, which squeaked in terror and scampered into a corner.

"I don't want to be here either, buddy," Dick mumbled to the first living thing he's had contact with since waking up. Dick continued in that manner for some time, he told the rat stories about him and his brothers getting into trouble. It gave Dick comfort in knowing that he wasn't alone. At some point, the teen fell into a semi-peaceful, dreamless sleep. He was rudely awakened by hunger pains. Dick held his midsection and groaned. How long was he asleep? He checked the food window, nothing was there. Had his captor grown bored and decided to stare Dick to death? The rat approached his crossed legs cautiously. It clicked in Dick's head. The furry animal wasn't a friend. It was food. Dick hesitated, the rodent was as much of a prisoner as he was. His eye caught the food window, nothing would come through until he finished his meal. Dick held out his hand to the curious animal.

"Come here, buddy. It's okay." The rat slowly crept towards the outstretched appendage. It nibbled at Dick's fingertips. Dick grabbed the body of the rat with his free hand, the rodent squeaked with panic as he wrapped his other hand around its tiny skull.

"It's survival of the fittest. I'm sorry," Dick whispered. He jerked his wrist to the side, swiftly snapping his cellmate's neck.

Jason and Tim returned to the Batcave at dawn. Neither boy worried about the early morning hour, it was early summer and school was on break. They rushed to the Bat-computer —it seems that everything Batman owns must have the prefix "bat." Tim searched the database for all of Joker's past and current headquarters. There were only 12 that they knew of.

"How many more hideouts are there that we don't know about?" Tim wondered aloud, his scrunched brows made him look older. Jason shrugged his shoulders and removed his helmet.

"Who knows?"

"What are you two doing up at this ungodly hour?" Damian asked as he exited the elevator alongside his father.

"We could ask you the same." Tim deadpanned without facing his newly arrived family members.

"We're doing prevalence on Gotham's security cameras to try to find clues about Dick's disappearance," Bruce explained as he sipped on morning coffee.

"While you were getting your beauty sleep, Tim and I found a lead on Dick's location," Jason snarled. His jaw clenched at the thought of Dick being held against his will, possibly being tortured by some psycho, while his family was catching z's. Bruce didn't react to Jason's harsh tone, mainly because he felt the same way.

"Where?" Bruce joined his two sons in front of the large screen. Tim noticed the blood drain from Bruce's face. He knew better than any of his sons what the Joker was capable of, as well as his strange fascination for his proteges, especially Dick.

"The Joker has him," the man began to dress in his batsuit.

"We need to check all of those locations immediately." The other three members of the family followed Batman's orders. They jumped into the Batmobile —save for Jason who took his cycle. They raced to the nearest locations and assigned places to check.

"You will check in every 5 minutes as well as upon arrival and departure." Batman always set extra safety rules when dealing with the most dangerous villains like the Joker or Scarecrow. Nobody was sure of what Arkham's finest madman was capable of. With a nod of understanding, each vigilante took to their own route —the youngest two, Damian and Tim, sticking together for added protection.

The plates of food had stopped ever since the rat, now only live animals were released into the room. Rats, squirrels, small birds, even a stray cat. Dick had taken a moment to pet the latter animal before he crushed its skull in his hand. Dick didn't enjoy killing to survive, but he grew more apathetic towards the acts. Is this the line Batman always feared he would cross? Aside from the stomach pain from the raw meat, it wasn't too bad. Dick began to wonder if all those "villains" they spent years fighting were really that bad. All they were doing was surviving. It's survival of the fittest. Dick let out a chuckle, then another. Was he finally completely bonkers? No! Everyone else was mad! He was perfectly sane! All those mindless sheep followed their moral lines to the slaughter. Dick was a wolf now, he saw how the world worked. Laughter rang throughout the room, Deick realized it was his. He giggled more until cackles burst through the stagnant air like thunder. He found himself in hysterical tears when the door of the cell opened for the first time.

"Welcome home, son."