Chapter Fifteen

Oracle shook her head and sighed in frustration. It seemed that with Allen Smitheson, they would always get so close to catching him when he would slip through their fingers like smoke. The trackers they had on him had all been turned off on the edge of Crime Alley, they had no way of finding him. She massaged her temples and rested her eyes for a few moments. Then her computer beeped, something had come up. It was the search she was running on the L.A police case files for deaths occurring at the time or date 7:28. She had come apon a few hits on her previous cross references but nothing solid. This case, however, caught her attention.

Bruce sat in front of the Batcomputer, frowning. He was studying the case files Oracle had sent him. Victims; Ricardo and Audery Drake. Cause of death; multiple knife wounds to the throat and torso. Time of death; roughly 7:30 a.m. Christmas morning. Bruce winced at that but continued reading. The forensics found the blood marred and smudged in some places. They found a bloody footprint, a child's footprint. It was turned away from the bloody scene. They found traces of blood and sweat on the inside of a nearby closet door. Bruce took one look at the picture and could imagine small hands scratching the wooden doors, leaving thin, red trails in their wake. Fingertips scrabbling against the hard surface, trying desperately to get out. He shook his head. He must study this case as an indifferent third-party. He was getting attached. To who? What was Allen? He was once a victim, what was he now? Had the offended become the offender?

The Drakes had been murdered in front of the closet, they fell against the doors, making it unable to open. There was a child inside. Three hours later, the scene was visited, or revisited. Whoever it was, found the child. The man dragged the Drakes to the other side of the room and let him, or her out. The bloodstains around the closet door were smudged, presumably by the child when he, or she must've fallen. Too exhausted from struggling. Then his savior took him away. He, or she, was never found.

Bruce frowned, the Drakes didn't have a child, they had visited several orphanages to adopt but they never got the chance to. He continued studying the crime scene photographs when he came across one that he knew would have Oracle in tears. The photograph was of the child's bloody footprints leading outside through the livingroom but the Christmas tree could be seen in the corner. The presents were untouched. Six presents for a very happy family. There was no hesitation in the bloody steps. The child never once looked back when he left. The picture was purely poetic.

Bruce closed his eyes and massaged his forehead as he quickly calculated the age the child would be now. It matched Allen's supposed age. A child who had his parents murdered in front of him. Screaming as they bled out. He knew the feeling of hopelessness. He closed the file and moved away from the computer to distract himself. He was getting too attached. He decided to call his contacts, ask around if anyone had heard something from the boy.

It was like a game of treasure hunt. Penguin, who had contact with Allen briefly, directed Batman to Red Hood, who had also ran into him. Batman decided to ignore that particular informant and approached the Riddler, who directed him to Catwoman. He let out a sigh as he landed on the roof of the femme fatale's apartment. Selina Kyle walked out to greet him. "I thought you'd come around." she smiled flirtatiously.

"Then you know what I'm here for." the smile fell and she turned away.

"He was here, the boy, this morning he left."

"He was here?" Batman raised an eyebrow dubiously.

"He was injured, scared, and bleeding out. What was I supposed to do? Hand him over to you?" Catwoman asked, turning back to him.

"Who, or what was he scared of?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. He was at least wary of you when conscious and had nightmares when he wasn't. I didn't have it in my heart to pry." Batman frowned, he had heard Alfred's first-hand account of the nightmarish effect Drake's dreams had on said boy.

"Do you know where he went?"

Selina shook her pretty head. "He said he needed to leave Gotham as quickly as possible. Said you were out to get him and that he needed to get back to his guardian."

"His guardian?"

"Didn't talk much about him. Just said that he wasn't his father, but he was his kid. Or something like that. Apparently, the man has an aversion to jam." Batman ignored that comment. "He's not a bad person, you know." Selina said about Drake as if in afterthought.

Batman pressed his lips into a thin, straight line and nodded stiffly before disappearing into the shadows.

"Oh, hello." Selina blinked when she found Drake on her doorstep when night fell.

"Hello, ." Drake raised two fingers to his front bangs in a lazy salute.

"May I help you?" Selina stepped aside to let the boy in. "Should I go make you a cup of coffee? Tea?"

Drake shook his head and held out a fist in her direction. "I just came to give you this." he dropped a necklace with a jeweled cat pendant on her palm. "I just thought it might suit you better than an equipment belt." he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "And I needed money."

Selina smiled and Drake felt like he was seeing the real Catwoman. "Careful, tiger. One might think you're trying to flirt with me."

Drake smiled back. "Let them. You're too good for me anyway." he turned to leave. "If you ever find yourself in need of some kind of help, I'm a freelancing mercenary. Call me up." he began walking away.

"Wait! I don't know your name." Selina called after him.

"My name is St Allen" Drake threw back a wave as he left the building.