-The shadow of warning.

If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other. -Mother Teresa

Silent, dark— it was strange the way the manor seemed to reflect the man who'd owned it. Patches of light falling only upon space touched by his various wards. Jason thought of the hallowed halls as the winding corridors of Bruce's long dead heart. Dick's room, Damian's, and even Tim's seemed like scattered beacons of light in the darkness. Alfred's kitchen, a place of safety and stability where even the Batman was occasionally forced into the subtle motions of life, just like the ones normal people went through daily.

So where did that leave him? Jason couldn't help but wonder.

It had been a quick journey, one he could still walk with his eyes closed and hands bound. Sucking in a breath he flicked the light switch, only to be met with the same shade of black he'd already been peering into. As his eyes adjusted, moonlight making an effort to help, he got his answer.

Not a thing was out of place. Everything was just as he'd left it the night before he and Bruce had taken that fateful mission in Lebanon. Dirty socks thrown in a pile, empty soda cans strewn across every flat surface, even the corner of his first Playboy was still sticking out from underneath his old mattress. Time had forgotten his room, just as Bruce had tried and failed to forget him.

He was the scar, the shadow of warning that had hung over the manor and all of its occupants for years.

How was he supposed to live with that, how was he supposed to get past it?

Shifting the weight of the backpack on his shoulders, Jason gave in to his curiosity and ran his hand under the pillow sitting at the head of his bed. Beneath it he was oddly satisfied to find the batarang he had kept there for so many years, it had made him feel…safe. Not that he'd admit it, but it still did.

Pocketing the weapon he stepped lightly toward the far window, clouds of dust rising off any surface he brushed. With a slight nudge the pane gave way, crisp night air whipping through the dark room with a violent vengeance.

Stepping out onto the roof Jason froze, one hand tensing around his recovered batarang.

"Most people use the front door." Dick was leaned against the window edge, clad in nothing but an old Gotham Knights t-shirt and sweats. His blue-black hair danced wildly around his shoulder blades, obscuring any chance of Jason getting a good look at his facial expression. The acrobat seemed so at ease on the roofs edge, barefoot no less. He got the feeling his 'brother' had spent a lot of time navigating the manor's steepled and winding features.

Honestly Jason should have known bird boy wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.

"You won't stop me."

"I'm not trying to." The answer surprised Jason, probably a bit more than it should have. He really had to work on honing those detective skills Bruce had been so damn adamant about.

Effortlessly Dick closed the space between them, his feet leading without falter. "I knew you wouldn't stick around forever Jay. That's too much to hope for, even for me. But five days, five full days. It was nice." His eyes strayed across the backpack on Jason's shoulders, no doubt recognizing it as his own with the telltale bulges of the equipment his brother had filched from them.

Jason couldn't contain his scoff. He shouldn't have stayed one day, let alone five. No matter how much he'd enjoyed the little reunion, he could not justify the choice he'd made to squander away so much time.

"There's a storm coming."

It seemed an offhanded comment to make but as Dick followed his brother's gaze toward the glowing expanse of Gotham he realized his brother's words had nothing at all to do with the worsening weather.

"You sound like you're looking forward to it." It wasn't so much accusation in Dick's voice as it was apprehension.

"I'm adaptable."

That was one way to put it; Dick thought that homicidal vigilant was etched somewhere within the latent terms.

"You are not."

Dick didn't so much as bat an eye at the subtle insult. Without reply he watched Jason throw himself recklessly from the fourth floor downward. Thunder rumbled in the distance, almost drowning out his final cry.

"Hey Hoodie!"

Jason turned, snatching the paper bag from the air. An undeniably sinful aroma radiated off it, Alfred's delicious chocolate-chip cookies nearly overflowing inside. Reluctantly he made to call out a thank you, but as a flash of lightning cracked the night sky above Wayne Manor Jason realized the shadowed silhouette of his brother had already vanished.

"More like the bat each day."

His muttered words were lost on the wind as he shielded his precious cargo from the worsening drizzle. Sprinting into the dark, Red Hood once again disappeared within the belly of the beast.

AN: First and foremost a gigantic thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, totally feeling the aster everybody. Oh yeah the third trailer released to The Dark Knight Rises...blew my mind! For all you Tim lovers, the inevitable is nearing and I'll leave it at that. :)