"But I still miss you, But there's no coming home, There's no coming home, With a name like mine. . ." -Ghost Towns by Radical Face

11:30 AM found Dick much more calm than it found Bruce, though Dick was making all the headway and Bruce just sulked and paced in the cave.

"Typical," Dick muttered as he dialed Tim's cell.

A groggy voice greeted him.

"Timmy! Usually you're up before me," Dick answered back happily.

"Yeah, yeah," Tim shot back. "What's up?"

"Is Jason with you?"

Tim was instantly alert. "He's gone?"

"He'll be back."

"He's gone."

"Have some faith! He'll be back." Dick rooted around the pantry, thought for a second, and then added the camping trip to the calendar.

"He's walking around Gotham in a catatonic state. What if he gets hit by a car? Shot? Mugged? Just because no one knows he's the Red Hood doesn't mean he's safe."

Dick paused. "I see your point, but he's a big boy who can take care of himself, words or no words. Maybe he hasn't been outside like this before, but if anyone knows Gotham, it's Jason."

"Well, he has been like this on the streets before," Tim trailed off, Dick's hopeful tone infecting him.

"Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean he's been like this before?"

"Talia didn't find him in a coma and wake him up, he woke up on his own and spent a couple of years on the streets using survival instinct."

"How do you-" Dick's mind reeled. "How do you know that?"

Tim paused, assessing how many punches he'd get from the missing bird if he spilled about their little "breakfast club" time. "Jason told me himself. We talked over waffles once."

"How the Hell did you get him to open up?"

"Kind of besides the point right now, Dick. How did he get out of the house without anyone noticing?" Tim was getting dressed as he spoke, writing a note for when the rest of the Titans woke up and found him gone.

"How did he live under our noses without us noticing? We really weren't looking." Dick drank orange juice out of the fridge and then grabbed his keys. "I'm going to the East End to see if he's there. If you're coming out, meet me back at the manor. B is in smash mode and will probably only listen to you or Alfred. Which reminds me, were the Hell is Alfred?"

It was three in the morning when Jason made his way tentatively down the stairs, into the kitchen, and out the front door of Wayne Manor. Of home. He found himself escaping to Crime Alley, cash and food in a backpack he held onto tightly. He wasn't in the right mindset to take or even want a gun, so he was without a weapon and alone in the worst part of town. Climbing through a semi-boarded up window, Jason curled up in his old hideout and waited for morning. All he had to do was get a hold of Talia, and she'd take care of the rest. Hopefully.

Alfred, of course, found him in his curled up position at six, but left him sleeping until nine, when he came back and nudged Jason awake.

Jason opened his eyes gingerly, and couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather see.

"Master Jason, I won't tell you not to do this, because I'm sure that would only galvanize your resolve, but please understand you are getting better. Slowly, but you are. Two weeks ago you would have never been able to look someone in the eyes for this long." Alfred heard sirens in the distance and touched Jason's shoulder. "Come back."

Jason looked down at his hands and saw in his mind the blood stained there, only this time it was his own blood. He couldn't know for sure that he was getting better, and even if he was, his relationship with Bruce wasn't. If being a drone didn't get Bruce to love him, why wouldn't he get his personality back?

Jason felt the sting of tears behind his eyes. He wanted to be able to fight back, to have the shell that comforted him since even before his death. Or maybe he wanted a family to choose him instead of being stuck with him. Or maybe he just wanted to be filled with something, even if it was just the anger of his past. Or maybe he had no idea what he wanted, and he was pretty certain Alfred knew, but would never say it because he also knew how stubborn Jason was.

After a solid two minutes with his hand outstretched, Alfred bowed his head. "What I said to you before, when you first showed up in this state, is still true. You were a brash and stubborn boy, but you were the child most like a grandson to me because you were the one who needed me most. And, because of that, I find I need you as well. There will always be a place for you, if not in the manor, then in the family."

Jason laid back down after Alfred left, and was extremely uncertain if he was making a mistake. But that didn't matter as much as it should have. Alfred was right, he was stubborn, and he'd rather make a point than be happy. After all, Jason had never been sure of anything in his life. Even when he had had stability in the manor for those few precious years, he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. This time, he would throw the shoe himself.

All he had to do was get Talia's attention.