Author's Note: Wow, the response from the last chapter was amazing! Thanks so much for all the kind words! Please enjoy this next chapter!

Alfred never showed much emotion—he had learned to suppress it at an early age and release it through other ways. That was why Alfred was now cleaning every single piece of silver until it gleamed brilliantly. His face was impossible to read and to a mere outsider, it merely appeared as if the old butler was just doing a normal task albeit at an odd hour. To an outsider; however, Alfred's emotions could be seen plainly.

His "Master" was dead—or at least according to the news. Normally, Alfred wouldn't believe such nonsense, but Bruce had failed to contact him and when Alfred had tried to reach him, all Alfred had received was static. He should probably contact the League, but—aside from Clark, whom Alfred held in the highest regard—Alfred knew that they would have no luck in finding Bruce either. Despite all their fancy equipment, the League never could track down the Batman. Alfred knew this was how Bruce liked it, but it was times like these that Bruce's fear of betrayal became inconvenient.

The door opened and Alfred couldn't keep the spark of hope out of his eyes.

The sight before him grieved the butler's heart to no end.

"Master Dick." Alfred choked out as he saw Bruce's son slowly stalk into the room. His shoulders sagged and the look on the defeat on his face told Alfred all that he needed to know—

Bruce was dead.

"Scarecrow," Dick mumbled, facing Alfred. For the first time, the butler noticed just how pale the young teenage boy was. His skin was starting to rival the color of a corpse and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. "I have to tell you—"

"Sit down," Alfred commanded in the strongest voice he could muster. He couldn't show his sadness to Dick, not now. He needed to take care of this boy first and then he would deal with the sharp feeling of grief that was threatening to consume him. "Sit." When the boy didn't do as he commanded, Alfred gently eased the boy down to the couch.

"Scarecrow," Dick muttered again, his eyes flashing darkly. "Alfred, Scarecrow did—," His voice cut out and the young boy let out a mangled cry and Alfred reassuringly placed a hand on his back. "I came because this is safe." Dick met Alfred's gaze. "You're safe."

"It'll be alright, Master Dick," Alfred said in his most soothing tone. Bruce had to be dead—what else would provoke such an emotion in Dick? "You and I will pull through this."

"Alfred—!" Dick exclaimed suddenly, jumping out of his seat. He placed his head in his hands and Alfred rose cautiously. What was going on? "Get out of my head!"

"Master Dick?" Alfred called to him quickly. "What's wrong?" He took a step forward, only for Dick to take a step back.

"Don't come closer!" Dick growled. "I'm not safe!"

"What are you talking about?" Alfred asked quietly.

"Run away," Dick mumbled. "Must get out."

"Master Richard," Alfred said sternly, utilizing the Boy Wonder's full name rather than his nickname. "Just come with me down to the cave first, alright?"

"Cave?" Dick's voice echoed. "No, not safe."

"It is the safest place there is," Alfred assured him, completely convinced that something was wrong with his charge. He had to scan him immediately. "I need you to trust me."

"Trust . . ." Dick's voice trailed off. "Bruce told me to trust him. He never came back."

"I won't leave you," Alfred assured him, holding out a hand. "It'll be alright." Dick placed a hand in Alfred's and the butler was shocked at just how cold it was. Still, he forced his face to show no emotion—he had to keep the boy calm.

"Alfred," Dick choked out, tears pricking his eyes. "It's not okay. Everything is wrong!" Alfred couldn't resist the urge to hug the boy. Regardless of how Bruce treated him, Dick was still a young child. He needed the same amount of comfort as other boys his age did.

"Master Dick—"

Alfred never expected what happened next. Dick yanked one of Alfred's arms away from him and then swung him around into the wall. Before Alfred could re-act, the boy had kicked him the gut and Alfred was on the ground coughing. The taste of blood was on his lips. Alfred managed to glance up at Dick and he grimaced. The boy was so horror struck that it almost looked like he was going to collapse from shock. His breathing became louder and more ragged and he kept shaking his head.

"I hurt you," Dick mumbled, panic dancing in his eyes. "Alfred, I'm not safe!" And with that, he ran back out the door before Alfred could even muster any strength to talk to him. One thing had became abundantly clear to Alfred though—

Something was seriously wrong with Dick.

"What?" Bruce mumbled, once he came to his senses. There had to be a mistake. Dick was safe with his team—there was no way he could've gotten involved with Scarecrow.

"I do not know all the details," J'onn confessed. "But, Superman called for assistance earlier and informed me of Robin's situation."

"Transport me up," Bruce growled, anger consuming him. How dare Scarecrow lay one finger on his son! "Now." The familiar sensation of the League's transport system filled him and a few seconds later, he found himself before J'onn. Bruce felt his teammate shy away from the sheer intensity of his glare, but Bruce didn't care. The only thing that mattered now was finding his son and saving him before it was too late.

"Batman—" J'onn began, but Bruce held his hand up for silence.

"Where is Robin?" He tried to make his voice calm, but still found that there was an undercurrent of anger in his voice.

"His last known location was Arkham Asylum," The Martian informed him. "Batman, you must know that the news had proclaimed you as killed in action. I believe Robin went to try and find you—"

"And Scarecrow got him instead," Batman interjected. "Get ahold of Superman and let him know that I'm coming to help him. Contact Young Justice too!"

"Batman," Batman faced his friend. "Is it true that this toxin is . . . fatal?"

"Yes," Bruce replied calmly. "Get the infirmary ready."

And with that, Batman stepped into the teleporting machine and vanished.

"Young Justice to Superman."

"Go ahead." Clark said quietly. He was going as fast as he could and yet, he still felt like he was going too slowly.

"Robin is on the move again," Kaldur informed him. "He is running past Wayne Manor and heading into the streets of Gotham."

"Wayne Manor?" Clark choked out. "Did he go inside?" If he did, Dick's identity might've been compromised!

"Negative," Kaldur replied. "When we caught up to him, he was running past the house. We are following him now."

"I'm tracking your signal," Clark informed the teenager. "My ETA is two minutes."

Clark wondered if Alfred had run into Dick—if Dick had gone there to seek comfort from Alfred. That would be Dick's safe place after all and it was only logical for him to seek somewhere safe with his fear levels running high.

"Batman to Superman." Bruce's voice filled his intercom and Clark couldn't stop the relief from consuming him. He grinned.

"You're alive," Clark muttered, shock setting in. "Thank God."

"Where is Robin?" Batman hissed. It was clear he had heard about what was going on.

"Heading towards the streets of Gotham," Clark answered. "Young Justice is following his signal."

"Alfred!" Bruce exclaimed and Clark almost stopped in mid-flight. Something had happened at Wayne Manor. Clark could hear faint coughing and Bruce cursing.

"What's wrong?" Clark questioned urgently. "Did Robin—"

The line went dead and Clark grimaced. He needed to find Dick right now.

Before he hurt someone else.

Author's Note: This story is really picking up, I believe. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please review!