"I'm handling it, "Catwoman hissed.

"You," Batman pointed at Myriam, "Go home. Now."

"I'm here to get answers and I'm not leaving until—"

"Now." Batman snarled.

Myriam's eyes widened. At first, Dick thought it was fear; he soon realized it was anger.

"No!" She yelled.

"This is none of your concern, Batman." Catwoman added almost gleefully looking at Myriam.

Batman sighed and grabbed Myriam by the arm, "Let's go. Now. I know what you're looking for and the answers aren't here."

Robin walked out from the shadows with a smirk, "Women," he sighed.

Myriam analyzed the man in the cowl. The way he forced his jaw to clench, and how he stood ready to fly if he needed to; but most prominently was the lightness in his eyes—noticeable even through the eyelets of his cowl. Myriam had seen Batman during the attack on Louise E. Grieves and his eyes were angry, "Fine," Myriam snapped. The Bat in front of her now was not the same Batman.

Batman wrapped his arm around her waist and swung to the ground, Robin following suite.

"Robin, make sure Ms. Farawi gets home safely," said Batman.

Robin nodded.

"Dick," Myriam whispered, "please." She pleaded.

"Myriam, it's not safe. We'll talk later but now, you need to go home." Dick explained soothingly. He embraced her in his arms, "I'm sorry about Adam." He kissed her forehead.

Myriam followed the young vigilante to the Batmobile. Batman swung back to the top of the building.

The car ride with Robin was quiet. Myriam knew who he was beneath the mask. Well, she knew of him. From the way Tim talked about him, she preferred a quiet ride.

…

"Selina attacked her?" Tim asked, concern etched across his face.

"Not really sure who hit first," Dick explained while putting away the cowl, "But, Myriam was holding her ground pretty impressively. I think Selina smiled when Myriam wouldn't listen to me."

"Jesus," Tim muttered, "Did you tell Catwoman about the gang war?"

Dick nodded, "I explained to her the Myriam situation too… she wants her."

"What?"

"She said that if we don't take her, she wants to train her as her own," Dick continued.

"Shit," Tim groaned.

"What do you want to do?" Dick asked him.

"Dude, you're Batman. You call the shots, remember?" Tim reminded him.

"No way. She's your friend. Your responsibility." Dick raised his arms in surrender, "By the way, she knows who we all are."

"Peachy," Tim sighed.

Tim stood in silence. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll go deal with this," He finally said.

…

"We need to talk," Tim announced when Myriam opened the door.

"Oh, Tim. How are you? Come on in." Myriam said quickly with her finger against her lips.

"Tim?" Zoanne peaked from the family room,

Tim's face turned red, "Zoanne?"

Zoanne, Tim's ex-girlfriend, walked towards the door; she looked happy and Tim was expecting a hug for his return. Instead, he received a flat palm against his left cheek. He held it as it stung.

"A fucking text message?" She says angrily, "And you disappear! I had feelings for you, did you know that?" She was angry. Very angry.

"I know, Zo. I'm sorry!" Tim said genuinely, "But, my life was imploding on itself and I had to fix it. I am really, very sorry." He repeated with his hand still against his red cheek.

"But it's better now that you have Tam?" Zoanne spat the name in disgust.

"Zo… it's not—"

"Fuck you, Tim." Zoanne spat, "Myr, I'm going to head out. Text me if you need anything and we'll wait up for you for the study group at 4 o'clock." Zoanne's tone changed to a sweet, happy chime.

"Sounds good, Zo. Thanks." Myriam replied and gave her friend a hug.

"Bye, Zoanne." Tim said hopefully as she walked out the door. Zoanne rolled her eyes and slammed the door.

"Well, that went just as bad as I expected," Myriam snickered, "Who's 'Tam'?"

Tim glanced at Myr, "For someone with a strong understanding of what's going on in the shadows, you really suck at following mainstream news." Tim answered the 'Tam' question, "You couldn't have given me a warning?" Tim rubbed at his cheek.

"If you hadn't announced yourself at the door I would have been able to pretend you were Ms. Dunkin with another casserole or something." Myriam led Tim into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of frozen peas for his face, "She hit pretty hard." She stated.

"I've had worse." Tim brushed it off, "I heard you got in a fight last night too." Tim grabbed Myr's arm and examined the bruise from Catwoman's whip.

"It's fine," she pulled her arm away, "Dick told you?"

Tim nodded, "You really pissed off Catwoman, eh?"

"She needed to calm down!" Myriam raised her hands, "Lady was psychotic!"

"She has her reasons. You were on her turf." Tim explained.

"You here to lecture me?" she asked in annoyance.

Tim shook his head, "No," he looked at what she was wearing. It was a late Sunday morning and she was still in her pyjama pants and baggy shirt. "Go get changed. We need to talk somewhere a little more… appropriate. Wear your track and field gear or something."

"Where are we going?"

"The Batcave." Tim smirked.

"No way!" Myriam exclaimed.

"Well, technically the Bat-bunker… Batcave is being used by Batgirl." He clarified.

…

"Wow," Myriam's jaw-dropped when she took off the helmet and jumped off Tim's Ducati, "This is crazy."

"Myriam," Someone called out from the other side of the bunker. Dick walked out of the gymnasium with a towel around his neck.

"Dick?" Myriam smiled.

"Welcome to my kingdom," He spread his arms and embraced her, "It's good to see you without Catwoman trying to kill you."

"Likewise," Myriam smiled and hugged him back, "Haven't seen you in a while. What has one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors up to these days?"

"Is this the girl you two were so concerned about?" Someone else clicked from the gymnasium Dick had just walked out from, "Pitiful." The little boy rolled his eyes.

"Dealing with this kid," Dick sighed, "Damian, what did we say about hospitality?"

"Tsk." The kid entered the elevator, "A little tip: don't fight someone you can't handle." He advised and disappeared.

"He looks so much like Mr. Wayne," Myriam muttered astonishingly.

"Yeah, he does." Dick's eyes dropped to the ground and his face began to mash together, "They act the same too," He forced his eyes to look up at Myriam and grinned. "Come on. We have a lot to talk about." Dick led her to a table with chairs surrounding it.

"What's going on?" Myriam asked Tim suspiciously.

"Take a seat, Myr." Dick pointed to a chair that looks like it was stolen from a Wayne Enterprises boardroom, "Before we begin, we want to know what you know." Dick opened the floor for her to speak as he paced back and forth.

She explained everything. The gang connections to the murders that have happened across Gotham over the past three weeks, the odd behaviour of the Street Demonz, and the tension at every street corner that echoes that of the last gang war.

"How do you know about Julius Cuntas' involvement? We couldn't find him in our systems but we did find his brother."

"Julius played striker on the Gotham University varsity soccer team. He and Adam are—were teammates and pretty good friends. That's why they were at the mall together. One time, when Julius was over, Adam came to me and told me that if Julius offered me anything that I were to go straight to Adam," She explained, "He never tried to sell me anything."

"That would explain the emergence of syn on campus," Tim noted to Dick.

"What's syn?"

"It's a new synthetic drug that showed up on Gotham University campus a few months ago." Dick explained. "So, Julius, a dealer for Kaza and brother to a Kaza lieutenant was killed by some Street Demonz thugs. A few weeks before, a soldier for the Hanoi Ten gang was found in the river. Last night, a Galante soldier was found in a trashcan."

"Galante? Was the body found in the East Side?" Myriam questioned.

"Yeah, a few alleys west of where you and Catwoman had your little fight," Dick said.

"This is getting dirty… they attacked Galante on their own turf," Myriam muttered, "Who's controlling the board?"

"We have a few possible puppet masters," Tim answered and turned to the computer monitor on the wall behind him, "Penguin is always a suspect and none of his people have been hit yet, Golden Dragons is possible but they just signed the Neon Knights contract a few days ago making them an unlikely suspect. Mannheim has been spotted leaving The Stacked Deck nightclub after being driven out of Gotham over a year ago which makes Intergang a possibility."

"Who'd benefit the most from another gang war?" Dick challenged.

Myriam searched around the bunker for some kind of inspiration. She looked around the steel boardroom table; there were seven empty seats.

"I don't want to be rude but shouldn't Mr. Wayne be involved in this discussion? I mean, this is a full-fledged gang war waiting to happen…"

Tim followed Myr's glance to the empty seat at the head of the table, "Uhh. Bruce…"

"Bruce is uhh," Dick tried to take over from Tim but the words choked in his throat, "Bruce, technically, died last year during the crisis. Darkseid 'killed him.' But, Tim found out that he's actually floating through time—that sounds ridiculous out loud—" Dick admits, "The Justice League is working on a way to get him home."

Myriam looked to Tim and grabbed his hand, "Is that why you left?"

He nodded slowly.

"I—" She wanted to cry. Her best friend lost his father, again, and left town in some hopes to find him. And all Myriam could think about was why he would leave like that without telling anyone. How selfish it was of him to leave everyone worried like that. She was so angry that he left.

"I understand."

Tim's face lightened, the permanent looking wrinkles that covered his forehead began to disappear and his eyes opened wide. Someone understood him. Someone had it in them to see the situation in his eyes and understand why he did what he did. In those words, Myriam forgave him.

. . . .

"Master Richard, the signal." Alfred entered the bunker from the same elevator Damian had exited from earlier.

Tim and Dick look up from the computer, "On it, Alfie." Dick replied and immediately called the Commissioner.

"What's going on, Commissioner?" he asked over his headset.

"Batman, ten armed men entered the East End Clinic. They've released a few nurses and some patients but it looks like they're looking for someone. Could this be related to what you told me?"

"On my way, Commissioner." Batman hung up and nodded at Tim, "Myriam, we need to go. Stay here and work on the puzzle."

Myriam shook her head, "This might be related. I'm coming."

"No." Tim said sternly, "You're not ready."

"I can't just sit here—" Myriam began to yell.

"Listen," Dick stepped in, "You've got a temper you need to work on and you're not ready. Sit tight and figure out what the hell is going on." Dick's cheery voice turned into a growl.

Myriam folded her arms across her chest, "Fine."

"Oracle," Tim called over his comm.-link, "Can you find out if anyone special is staying at Dr. Thompkin's clinic?" He pulled on his cowl and thanked the person on the other end.

Dick turned to the computer and pressed some buttons, "You're now authorized to use the computer. It takes time to get used to but it's voice-command too."

She nodded.

Batman and Red Robin jumped into the Batmobile and drove off.

"Wait, the signal? What time is it?" Myriam turned to Alfred.

"It's nearly 9 o'clock at night, Miss Farawi."

"Shit!" Myriam pulled her phone from her sweater pocket and found several text messages and missed calls from Zoanne and Ives. She was supposed to meet them several hours ago.