{the vigilant kitten}

-he who, during so many years, had floated with observant mind on the wide sea of suffering-

After arriving at Barbara's apartment, his bandages had been changed again, he'd changed into his civvies, and he managed to get a call to Selina. He'd been so relieved to hear her voice, he'd forgotten to tell her about his run in with the Joker. It had just… slipped his mind. He would have to explain eventually, though, once she saw the state he was in. And he was not in a great state.

"You okay, Tim?" Wally asked about half an hour after they arrived. His cowl was down, and his hair was a mess of sweaty red wisps around his forehead. His large green eyes were genuinely concerned, and he munched absently on a potato spud he'd likely found in the fridge.

"Fine," Tim said, pulling his sweatshirt over the bandages. He'd been staring at them in the mirror, wondering how it had gone so wrong so fast. He was glad to be alive though. "Um… is Talon…?"

"Still out cold," Wally said, tossing the last bit of the potato into his mouth. He licked his lips, and Tim noticed he looked a little distant. "I'm worried about those kids, man."

"I'm sure they're fine," Tim said softly. "They all seem pretty street smart."

"Yeah," Wally said, smirking a little. "But kids are still kids. And if anything happens… Well, I'm gonna feel a little responsible for that, y'know?" He ruffled his hair, and shrugged. "I drove them off, and all. I shouldn't have used that much force with Talon."

"Um, yeah," Tim agreed. "You really shouldn't have."

Wally watched him, and he gave a soft laugh. "Ah, crap," he said. "I screwed up."

"It's okay," Tim said, folding his arms across his chest. His chest was aching, and he felt a little dizzy, but he ignored it. "I think we all screwed up tonight one way or another. The important thing is that Jason is safe, and we have one assassin in custody."

"Still," Wally said, pulling his cowl up. "I've got a nasty feeling about all this."

Tim couldn't respond. Mostly because Wally was right. There was something off, and it was only until they found out the truth about Ghost that it all became suddenly, heart wrenchingly clear. Comprachicos, Tim thought, feeling sick to his stomach. Jason… and the Comprachicos. And if Ghost is really Bruce Wayne's kid… Tim was scared to speak. He was scared to think. He was scared of Talon, and Ghost, and of Jason finding out about all of this.

"This is…" Barbara took a deep breath. "A lot. Okay, let me…" She ran her fingers through her hair, closing her eyes. "Let me think for a second."

Starfire floated to Barbara's side, placing her hands on the woman's shoulders. She said nothing for a moment, but stared at Barbara with a somber expression, her brow knitted in concern. "It is going to be all right," Starfire said softly. "We will save them, and then all things will be right again."

Barbara gave a small, sad smile, and she pressed her hands against the orange alien's knuckles, resting her palm there for a moment as she stared forward into nothing. "This boy… Damian." Barbara pressed her spare hand to her lips, her eyes glazed in thought behind her glasses. "He might not take too kindly to Bruce, even if we do save him."

"Please," Talon begged. Tim was still startled at how helpless he sounded. It was as if he had no shame, no filter, as if all he could do was bare his emotions for all to see. It was rather startling for someone who was supposed to be a lethal assassin. "Damian is scared. He was raised to be like this, but I know he doesn't like it. I know he just… he just doesn't believe that he's worthy to be loved, or… or something like that. His grandfather filled his mind with the idea that he was a monster from birth." Talon stood up straighter, the chain of his cuffs clinking as he raised his head high. He looked more confident. "You have no idea what either of us have been through. You don't know why we do the things we do, and you don't know how desperate either of us are. You said you would kill me, but you don't seem to understand why I want to die."

"Guilt?" Barbara didn't so much as glance at him. "Hopelessness? I'm not really concerned about that, Richard. The fact that you're remorseful is enough for me."

"I want to die," Talon said, "because I don't want any of the information I have gained over the past few days to fall into the hands of the Court. You don't seem to grasp how thorough they are. When a Talon is compromised, they are eradicated." The man's eyes grew dark, sad, but inexplicably hard. "As is any evidence that he was comprised in the first place."

"There's no way any secret organization could take out all of us without someone noticing," Wally said, grinning a little. Then his face fell, and he looked to Barbara. "Uh, is there?"

Barbara ignored him. She looked up at Talon, and her eyes narrowed. "They'll kill you if you return," she said slowly.

"Or," Talon said, "they'll make me kill you. I don't want that to happen. I want to be in control of myself, but… they know how to break me. I'm sorry. You can't trust me in the hands of the Court of Owls. I have to die before they find a way to retrieve me."

"I'm not going to kill you," Barbara said firmly, whirling her chair around to stare up at him.

Talon's eyes widened. "You have to—"

"Don't tell me what I have to do," Barbara said, her voice sharp and cutting. "I said I would kill the Talon. Richard Grayson is a completely different person." She stared at him, her eyes narrowing. "Isn't he?"

"Well…" Talon was staring down at Barbara as well, his eyes wide and shocked. "Yes…?"

"Good." Barbara tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Now, someone needs to go and talk to those children. Flash?"

"Yeah, I'll do it," Wally said. "I really need to apologize for, uh… burning down their clubhouse." Wally gave a sheepish laugh, but Barbara's glare shut him up. "We need to get those kids back, Barb. That little girl has got to have a family."

"Artemis Crock," Barbara said, rolling to her computer. She was typing away before Tim could blink, and upon her screen a number of different tabs popped up, glowing brightly against the dimness of the room. "Thirteen years old, daughter to Lawrence Crock." Barbara pulled up a picture of the man. Tim vaguely recognized him from passing— Selina sometimes took an interest in the network of Gotham villainy. "Or, rather, Sportsmaster. He's been pretty off-radar for a few years, though, since his partner was jailed."

"Artemis expressed that she has no interest in pursuing any criminal career," Talon said. "She deserves to be saved as well."

"There are a lot of kids missing, suspected to be abducted by Comprachicos," Barbara said, still typing away. "The police have been alerted that there's a load of corpses— Comprachicos, by the looks of it, in Crime Alley. I'm going to check it out while Flash talks to the kids. Starfire, you stay here and guard Richard."

"Dick," Talon said softly. Barbara glanced at him, her eyes flashing rather sharply. Tim watched the man's pale cheeks glow a little pink, and he shrunk a little. "Um, I… I don't like Richard, no one ever actually called me that. When I was little, I mean. Everyone called me Dick."

"Dick," Barbara repeated.

"Dude, that's one crappy—" Wally broke off at Barbara's furious glare. "Uh. Situation?"

Talon gave a weak smile. "I know it's silly, but it's my name."

"You should hear his name," Tim said dryly. Wally shot Tim a look, and Tim merely smiled innocently, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Hey, Red, I'm coming with you."

"Uh, no you aren't," Barbara said, looking up at him with a short, sharp gaze. "You're not in any condition to go anywhere."

"There's something I have to tell you," Tim said. "About Jason. It's really important, Red."

"It can't wait?" Barbara looked at him, and her expression softened when she saw Tim's face. He was giving her a horrified look that said, Are you seriously asking that right now, like really? "I'm sorry. Of course you can come."

"Then…" Starfire stood, looking a little uncertain. "I am alone with the Talon?"

"Try not to fight," Barbara said, patting Starfire on the arm. "I trust that neither of you will make a big mess?"

Talon watched Starfire warily, and he pressed his lips together, shaking his head profusely. Starfire merely watched him, her eyes narrowing in distrust. Does she not like him because he's an assassin, Tim thought, or because she can tell that Barbara likes him? Tim didn't know. Either way, he didn't blame the alien woman. Though he did have to wonder if he was reading Barbara all wrong— though, he figured he probably wasn't.

"Be safe," Starfire told Barbara, her green eyes going wide. The woman looked to Tim as well. "Both of you. Do not get into very much trouble, please."

"We'll be fine," Tim assured Starfire. "Red?"

"Yeah, let's go." Barbara rolled past him, and he followed without comment. As they left the apartment, Tim took a deep breath, feeling a little less sick. But still, there was a buzzing inside his mind, an itch that he couldn't shake. Batman had busted the child prostitution ring that had had its grasp on Jason, but it seemed he had not been thorough enough. It went deeper.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like what you have to say?" Barbara asked as she zipped up her coat. It was bright enough out now that the snowy streets glittered madly in the morning light. The wheels of her chair left shallow tracks in the snow, and as she spoke, mist burst from her mouth.

"Because you won't," Tim said quietly, pulling up his hood. He took a deep breath, letting the chill of winter bite deep into his bones. "God… I don't even know where to begin."

"I assume it has to do with his connection to the Comprachicos?" Barbara peered up at him. "What's that about?"

Tim kicked a bit of snow up into the air, watching a plow truck come rumbling down the street. "I promised not to tell anyone," Tim admitted, feeling awful and confused and hopeless. He just hoped Jason would forgive him for spilling his secret to Barbara. "But… it's been years, and the only person I ever told was Selina. She told Bruce, of course." Tim looked up at the sky, a somber gray hue, rays of sunshine peaking through and giving everything a strange white tint. Snow crunched underfoot as he walked alongside her wheelchair. "And I think it might be really important right now."

Barbara studied his face, and she looked a little apprehensive as they moved forward. "Kit…" She pressed her lips together, and looked away, focusing her sight ahead of them. "How bad is it?"

"Bad."

"Want to give me a better idea?"

Tim sighed. He ran his fingers through his hair, the icy wind kissing his cheeks, and his thoughts crept back to that horrible day where Jason had told him everything. I thought you wanted me… Tim shuddered, rubbing his knuckles nervously. The memory of the boy's kiss still surfaced, bubbling at the top of his mind and festering like a wound. It had been forceful, strong, needy and wet and sloppy. Tim couldn't remember much else, other then the overwhelming taste of cigarette smoke that plagued Jason's tongue.

"Jason was a child prostitute," Tim said softly. Barbara stopped, her body jerking as her chair ceased moving. She looked up at him, and he could feel the horror radiating off her in waves. Tim had kept going a few more steps until stopping, standing with his fists stuck inside the pocket of his sweatshirt. He cocked his head back, peering at the sky and tugging at his hood. "Before his mom died, he got into some stuff, and then… afterwards, when he was on the streets, he got kidnapped. He already had a reputation, and… it was easy for them to push him into it."

"My god…" Barbara breathed. "The Comprachicos?"

"I guess so." Tim bit his lip, and he looked back at Barbara, his eyes growing soft and desperate. "Whatever they did to him, Red, it broke him. When he told me, I was terrified. I mean, I was thirteen, I didn't… really understand as well as I thought I did. But I could see that what they did, it damaged him. I don't know. He said there were other kids. I figured Batman saved them, but now…"

"Do you…" Barbara stared at her hands. "You don't think he might… know where they are?"

Tim spun around, snow flying as he turned on her, his eyes widening in shock. "Barbara!" he gasped, horrified.

"I know," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose beneath her glasses. "I know how horrible it is that my mind went there first. But if there's a chance—"

"We can't tell him any of this!" Tim cried, his voice echoing in the emptiness of morning. "Did you not just hear what I said? They broke him, Red!"

"Right now," Barbara said quietly, "our top priority is finding Damian. And I… I'm sorry, but it's our best option."

"You don't think Jason would have told someone if he knew where the Comprachicos were?" Tim snapped. He was angry. No, he was fucking furious. Minutes ago Barbara was with him on the fact that telling Jason about Damian was an awful idea.

"Batman didn't bust the child sex ring until years after Jason's accident," Barbara said. "And you're the only person he told about any of this, kit, sorry to say."

Tim took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "No," he said quietly. "No, I'm sorry. I get it, I really do. It's just…"

"Awful." Barbara nodded. "Come on, we better get going if we want to get to Crime Alley before my dad does."

They took the subway to Crime Alley, and their trip was utterly silent. Tim was stuck inside his own head, stuck with the utter loss of knowing that… that talking to Jason about the Comprachicos was their best chance of finding Ghost. Damian, Tim thought. Bruce Wayne's son. He wondered how Selina would react to that. She wouldn't resent the child, of course. But then there was Talia al Ghul… Tim had no idea how to react to her name. He'd seen records of her, sure, but he'd never given her much thought. Had she retired from villainy after Damian had been born? It made sense. But didn't Talon say that Ra's al Ghul raised him?

Tim didn't want to think about it.

"Shit," Barbara swore as they rolled up to the blinking GCPD squad cars. "Dad's here."

"Shouldn't that be, like…" Tim leaned against the back of her chair, and cocked his head. "A good thing?"

"You don't know my dad," Barbara sighed.

I do, Tim thought glumly. Just not well. "Come on," Tim said, helping her upward onto the sidewalk. He let go, and he lifted up the police tape for his friend so she could roll herself under it.

"Hey, wait!" a woman gasped, grabbing Tim by the arm. "You can't— Barbara?"

"Hi, Renee," Barbara said, smiling up at the woman. "It's really nice to see you."

"Ditto," Renee said, staring at Barbara in wonder. "But… sweetie, what are you doing here?"

"We have some info about this," Barbara said. "But I wanted to see the crime scene for myself."

"Info?" Renee looked a little skeptical.

"I need to talk to my dad," Barbara specified. Tim knew that was a lie. But whatever. She rolled forward, and Tim followed, ducking the police tape and shrugging against the cold.

"I can't let you through," Renee said, tugging at his elbow. "Either of you. You might compromise the crime scene. I'm really sorry, Barbara."

"Renee," Barabra said, rolling up to the woman. "You know me. I think I might know what happened here. Do you still want to stop us from coming through?"

Renee studied Barbara's face. "Go," she sighed, pushing a brown curl from her forehead. "But watch the snow. There are foot prints and blood stains that haven't been photographed yet."

"We'll be careful," Barbara said, yanking on Tim's arm. "Hey, kit, maybe you should photograph crime scenes when you grow up."

"Are you saying you'll pull some strings for me?" Tim asked, carefully stepping through the snow. It crunched, the ice snapping and breaking delicately underfoot. "Because if so, that would be awesome, Red."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt having me as a recommendation if you applied," Barbara said with a smirk, dodging blood stains expertly. "Hey, is that an arrow?"

Tim looked down, and he saw that she was correct. There was an arrow imbedded in the snow, dark and almost makeshift. Tim had to remind himself not to touch it, no matter how strong the urge. And oh, there was an urge. He shrugged it off. "Did Ghost use a bow?" Tim wondered aloud.

"He used kunais," Barbara recalled. "Though I think he might have had a scabbard on him. I'm not sure about a bow, though?"

"Barbara!" Commissioner Gordon gasped, rushing up to them, nearly stumbling over a corpse. The body was torn open, gutted and frozen, blood glistening against the shimmery white snow. Morning light cast an eerie, bright glow across the bloating, icy skin of a man with snaggled teeth glittering like rubies, dried, frozen blood crusted against his lips. "What are you doing here?" The man's mustache twitched angrily.

"Dad, I have information about these murders that you need to here," Barbara said. "But first, you need to give me the information you've gathered."

"Barbara…" Commissioner Gordon did not look pleased. He watched his daughter behind his thick glasses, and he took a deep breath. "Honey, I don't know what this is about—"

"You know they're Comprachicos, dad," Barbara said. "You know what Comprachicos are. Two children are missing, and I'm not even sorry for not being subtle about my interest in your work, because right now I don't have time for it." She took a deep breath as well, and Tim found that he could see the similarities in the way the two of them spoke. He pressed a hand to Barbara's shoulder reassuringly, and he was glad that her father had no time to spare him a glance. He was too focused on Barbara.

"Two children?" Commissioner Gordon's eyes flashed. "Who? When? Barbara, what—?"

"I don't know the boy's name," Barbara lied easily. "But the girl is Artemis Crock. She's thirteen."

"My god…" the man breathed, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "And you're sure—?"

"Please trust me, daddy," Barbara said, staring up at the man with wide eyes. "Please. These kids were kidnapped last night. Here."

"Then they must have seen who murdered these people," Gordon observed, glancing around at the carnage. There were six corpses. "We have the murder weapon, at least."

"What?" Tim blurted, looking up at the man. "Really?"

Gordon glanced at him, and he frowned deeply. "And who is this?" Gordon asked, watching Tim warily. His eyes went to Tim's hand on his daughter's shoulder. That only made him frown deeper.

"Tim Drake," Barbara said. "You know, my handyman, and the guy who kidnapped Jason Todd."

"He asked me to," Tim said, exasperated. "Gosh, is he going to have to make a public service announcement to get people off my back?"

"Probably," Barbara said, smiling a little.

"Jason Todd," Gordon repeated, eyebrows rising. "Tim Drake. Well, son, you've grown some. I take it that you've adjusted to a foster family?"

"Yes, sir," Tim said, scratching at his knuckles to keep himself from thinking about the crawlspace. "Um, actually, I would like to look into legal adoption, if that's okay? Later, obviously, but…"

"I can direct you to the right place," Gordon said, smiling gently. "Your foster parents—"

"Just my mom," Tim said, shrugging. He felt a little warm at the thought. "Selina isn't really the marrying type." Hopefully. God, he felt a little sick at the idea of her actually settling down with Bruce Wayne. That would be the day. Jason and I would be brothers, Tim thought. As much as the idea struck him as actually decent, he couldn't help but squirm. It was because of the kiss. Years later, and his first kiss haunted him like a ghost clinging to his back, clawing at his spine with ethereal fingers and scraping away at him until he broke. Jason was still Tim's best friend. And Tim was still trying to figure out if that kiss had meant anything.

"Selina… Kyle," Gordon said slowly. "Ah. I see. That's how you know Jason Todd, then? Through your mother's connection with Bruce Wayne?"

"She's not subtle." Tim smiled thinly.

"Dad, Tim's going to college to study forensic science," Barbara chirped.

"Um, and photography," Tim said sheepishly.

"Huh." Gordon gave his mustache a stroke for a moment. "Well, if you pursue a career in law enforcement, Tim, you should give me a call." He looked down at Barbara. "Babs, I'd hate to ask, but can you write down everything you know about this?"

"Of course," Barbara said. "Can I look around? See the murder weapon?"

"Which is what, by the way?" Tim asked, a little too eagerly.

"It's a sword," Gordon said, glancing at Tim with a cocked eyebrow. "A katana, actually, though a little small."

"Can I take a look at it?" Tim asked.

Gordon studied his face for a moment, before nodded. "It hasn't been retrieved yet," the man said, pointing. "Don't touch it."

"I've seen enough cop shows to know that," Tim said, smiling gently. On the inside, though, he was a little nerve-wracked. And scared. What if they didn't find the kids in time? What if… what if they got to them, and they were already scarred? He couldn't handle another person with Jason's issues. He was scared of what Jason might say, might do, might think. He was scared of what Bruce would do if another child of his was broken by the Comprachicos.

"What do you think?" Barbara asked as Tim squatted beside the katana, his eyes trailing along the shaft of the blade, resting on the hilt.

"Definitely Ghost's," Tim said without thought. He pointed to the hilt, which was decorated plainly, but elegantly. There was an engraving in Chinese, but it was too small and crude to make out. "The hilt would barely fit in my hand, let alone a grown adult's. It could be a woman's, but I'm leaning more toward child. Also, looking at the carnage?" Tim gave a weak shrug. "Gotta face it, Red. It's the work of a professional killer."

Barbara sucked in some air, and Tim was glad that the frigid winter winds seemed to be blowing the smell of decay away from the actual corpses. Barbara looked steely, her expression cold as the snow beneath them, and she looked down at her hands. Tim could feel her disappointment. And Tim understood. Even though Tim knew it was self-defense, he was sad that the boy was so… well, good at killing. But he was an assassin. It was to be expected. Nothing had changed but for the reveal of his parentage, and that meant nothing. Bruce Wayne had not raised Ghost. Ra's al Ghul had.

"To think that a little boy," Barbara whispered, her eyes flashing wildly around the ravaged bodies, "could do something like this."

"How many Comprachicos were there," Tim wondered, "if Ghost could slaughter this many, and still get captured?"

Barbara rubbed her temples in distress. "I don't want to think about it, honestly," she said softly.

As Tim was about to stand up, he noticed something in the snow. A bit of paper imbedded in the dust, yellowed and neatly folded. Tim couldn't help it. He fished the paper out of a snowy dune, and shoved it in his pocket before anyone could see. He was a thief, after all. Barbara didn't even seem to notice. Before they left, they got as much information as they could out of Gordon, who wasn't as helpful as they'd hoped. The Comprachicos had escaped on wheels, and there was no way to track that. And so, they were off.

Tim pulled out the paper soon after they went moving, and he peered at it curiously. Barbara looked up at him, and smirked. "Stealing evidence?" She waggled her finger. "Naughty, kit. Very naughty."

"I couldn't resist," Tim whined. "I mean, it's so shiny!"

"Curiosity killed the cat," Barbara teased.

"I thought I was a kitten," Tim said, feigning shock.

"My apologies." Her eyes twinkled with amusement, and her lips grew into a bright smile. "Okay, let's see what it is."

Tim unfolded the paper carefully. It was a little damp from the snow, and thus it was fragile. As he pried the paper apart, he was thankful at their luck. The snow had only dampened the corners of the page. The rest of the paper was dry. And the ink of the beautiful drawing ran only slightly, words dribbling into words. The ink sketch of a gorgeous woman was the central focus, and it was breathtaking, streaks folding into curves of rich black lines and soft shading.

"Oh my…" Barbara said softly, leaning over his arm to peer at the drawing. "Tim…"

"Who is that?" Tim asked, squinting. "Who did this?"

"Read the caption, kit," Barbara said.

He did. "'Love,'" he read aloud, "'is a fleeting emotion, which I imagine to cling… to…' um..." It was difficult to read, with the ink bleeding. "'All… things unreachable?'"

"Keep reading," Barbara insisted.

Tim stared at the paper, and nodded slowly. "'Love is something… I cannot explain, because no one has explained it to me. I know it is a… uh… feeling, but I have never felt it. And so, I connect this fleeting feeling to… the world… that abhors me...'" Tim stopped for a moment, freezing as revelation washed over him like a sick wave of sorrow. He looked down at Barbara, his eyes going wide with guilt and confusion, and she merely rested her elbow on her armrest, and covered her mouth with her hand.

Tim gulped a breath, and continued almost timidly, "'Love exists in the… same way that stars do. I have never seen the stars, but I know that they exist. I know that stars burn… and then they die. Love, I think, might just be the same. If love is an emotion, then emotions fade. Like all good things, maybe, and that is why love is untouchable… unreachable… and unfathomable… Love, perhaps, is… Mother.'" Tim looked up, his entire body going lax. He felt a little sick. By the end, he wasn't trailing off because it was difficult to read the bleeding ink. He was trailing off because he had not expected it.

"That portrait," Barbara said, her voice a wisp in the wind. "It's Talia al Ghul."

"Damian must have dropped this," Tim said faintly. "While fighting, or something."

"Tim," Barbara whispered. "What… what did Ra's tell that boy?"

Tim carefully refolded the paper, taking deep, steady breaths to calm himself. "I don't know, Barbara," Tim said softly. "I really don't know."


Relationships and stuff. Tim and Babs are really good friends, for realsies. Also, I wanted to show that despite the fact that Kory and Babs aren't actually together in this, they still love each other. A lot. I'm gonna say that Kory is still pretty firmly in love with Barbara, but Babs kind of drifted away from those feelings? I could probs write more about their relationship, but since it's not a huge part of the story I can only give you a small glimpse of it. Which sucks because I LOVE KoryBabs.

Hello, paging Victor Hugo, on a scale of one to the Les Miserables anime, how upset are you about my use of your quotes?

one day i'll forget to add one of these disclaimers, and i'm sure you'll all be devastated.