Disclaimer – You recognise it, I don't own it.

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It had to be wrong. It just had to be. No one got the drop on Red Robin. It just didn't happen… Besides Tim would have called for help. There would have been a comm message.

Maybe Jack had had an affair. Dick wouldn't put it past the man. Maybe Tim had a half-brother running around somewhere.

All Dick had to do was find Tim and prove his theory.

Because it couldn't be Tim. It just couldn't! Dick would have known if Tim was in danger.

"Do you know anyone who would want to harm Timothy?"

"No. No one. Tim's a good kid. He works hard. He isn't dating anyone. He doesn't make waves. Doesn't cause problems. You've got to be wrong. Tim's safe at home."

"And where is home?"

Dick opened his mouth and then closed it again.

Where was home for Tim? He wasn't at the Manor. Dick would know. He would have seen Tim at some point. He couldn't actually remember the last time he saw Tim at the Manor. So Tim couldn't be living there. Alfred, for one, wouldn't allow Tim to hide away in the Manor and never be seen.

Dick's next thought is for the old Brownstone, but he instantly dismissed that one. Tim had had one of his rare emotional reactions to the place and sold it as soon as he had disposed of the fake uncle. Tim wouldn't be there; not only did he not own it anymore, but he couldn't walk through the door.

The old Drake Manor was inhabited by a very nice young family, so Tim couldn't be living there.

That only left one place left that Dick could think of.

"The Wayne Penthouse." Dick stated.

"He's not there." Montoya leaned forward, "We checked. No one's living there. You don't even know where he lives? What kind of brother are you?"

Dick couldn't answer that. He didn't know what the answer was. Only he was sure it wasn't positive. He was desperately casting his mind back, trying to remember the last time he saw Tim without a cowl or a domino on. And to his horror he couldn't remember.

It couldn't be after he had caught Tim falling from Ra's kick. It just couldn't!

"We're going to interview the Manor's inhabitants." Montoya declared, "You are to stay here and not communicate with them until we give you leave. Do we need to confiscate your phone?"

"No." Dick shook his head, "Just… Be gentle? I don't know how Damian will react. He's… He's prone to extreme reactions. He doesn't know what is an appropriate level of response to anything. And he tries to hide anything he deems as a weakness."

"And Jason?" Allen asked.

"I doubt he'll be there." Dick shrugged, "But if he is… Don't be surprised at the swearing. And he might not believe you. He doesn't… He doesn't trust cops."

"Not even you?"

"He trusts me as Dick. Not as Officer Grayson. He's seen far too many crimes get ignored to fully trust cops. Don't take it personally."

"Strange," Montoya remarked, "You know all these details about them. But I doubt you know the first thing about Timothy Drake."

"Photography is his passion," Dick's gaze narrowed slightly rising to his feet in anger, "Has been since he was a small child. He prefers to develop his photographs himself. Prefers film to digital for his art. He says it is purer. Brings him closer to his subject. His most prized possession is a photograph of him with my first family, taken the night they died. I hugged him and promised to put on a show just for him.

"He's smart. Smartest guy I've ever met. Miles ahead of even the best minds in science and industry. I've only ever played him in chess once. Once was enough; he wasn't even paying attention and he massacred me. Loves engineering. Wants to know how things work. Anything. A car. A plane. A radio. A computer. A person. He likes to know what makes things tick.

"He has a habit of dating dangerous women. Every single one of his girlfriends has had danger in their shadows. Pretty certain he's still a virgin. He respects women too much to love them and leave them. I think he's searching for the right one. Complete opposite of me. I've had more hook-ups than some women have shoes.

"If you ask him he'll tell you his favourite book is Red Rabbit by Tom Clancy. But really he alternates between Pratchett and Eddings. Depending upon how he is feeling. He occasionally strays into the Dirk Pitt series, but never for too long. Finds them a little farfetched in large doses.

"He's a nerd. Loves Star Trek. But prefers Picard over Kirk. And while he enjoys the reboot, he's still loyal to the original series and the Next Generation. He can't stand the prequels of Star Wars. And quite honestly would rather burn "I, Robot" than watch it. Calls it an insult to Asimov.

"He's a history buff. Both generally and of Gotham in particular. He wants to visit virtually every castle he passes in his travels. And he has the charm to usually get in, even if it's not open to the Public.

"His father's loss devastated him. His mother not so much. Not because he cared for her any less, but because at that time they were distant figures he didn't know very well. He only really connected with his father after Jack lost most of his money. He once told Jack that he'd gotten injured trying out for Football, when he'd really got it playing with his friends. When Jack called him out on it, Tim said he hadn't thought that Jack would check, because he never had before.

"I know lots about Tim."

"When why didn't you know he was missing?"

Dick sank back down into the chair.

He wanted to grab his phone again and start calling people. Call Bruce and find out what he knew. But he had no expectation of privacy. While he wasn't being officially detained, he knew that he wouldn't be allowed to leave the room, so anything he said or did would be monitored.

However, that didn't mean he couldn't make steps towards finding Tim. He started plotting his next few moves, anything to get ahead on the hunt.

Just on the off chance though…

"Hi, this is Tim Drake. I can't come to the phone right now, but please leave your name and number after the beep and I will get back to you."

"Tim… It's Dick… I need you to call me. I need to know you're alright. I need… I need you… God! I've been a lousy brother haven't I? I don't know where you are or what you're doing. But you're okay. You're always okay… You've got to be okay. I don't know…. I don't know what I'll do if you aren't okay… Please… Please be okay. Just… Just hang on. Wherever you are… Hang on. I'll find you. I swear it."

Dick hung up the phone. It was bad enough that he wasn't able to leave the interrogation room. He refused to let them see that he was begging his brother to be alive. To respond to his messages. He wasn't going to let them see him cry. And he knew that was a possibility. He had cried after Jason's death. He had cried after Bruce's death. He had cried after Damian's death. There was a very real chance that he was going to cry from this. He would not give the other officers the satisfaction. And he knew they were watching.

He wouldn't give them the satisfaction, because he knew that the ones who would most likely be watching would be those who viewed him as a little stuck up prince, due to his family. He wouldn't let them mock him further. Inwardly he hoped that they would at least give Tim's case the attention it deserved.

Dick didn't really care if the whole Batman secret came out, so long as Tim was alive. So if the police detectives managed to find Tim, he wouldn't care one bit that it was them and not him.

That being said, he wasn't going to hang around and wait for them to get started. He knew that the family wasn't involved, so he could skip that step. And move straight to the important stuff.

Besides, he had only been told not to call the Manor; he pressed a speed dial on his phone.

It was answered quickly.

"Babs," Dick breathed, "I need you to find Tim."

"What do you mean?" Barbara frowned, "He's at the Manor."

"I can't remember the last time I saw Tim at the Manor." Dick replied, "I mean I honestly can't remember. And now, I don't know where he is."

"Why don't you just call him?"

"I have. I got his voicemail. And the police have his DNA on torture implements at a crime scene. The wrong end of torture implements."

"Who? Who was hurting him?"

"We don't know. I don't know. And I don't know how long they had him. I don't know if they still have him. I don't know where he is. Or how he is. And I need to know, Babs. I have to know."

"Working on it. When did you last see him?"

"I can't remember. Seriously, I can't remember. Can you?"

"Well… No. I mean, I've seen him in passing. Not spoken to him."

Dick translated that in his head; Babs had seen Tim as Red Robin on her cameras, but hadn't established a comm link with him.

"When?" Dick pressed, "I thought I'd texted him last week and it turns out that it was two months ago."

"I'm not sure." Babs hedged, "A month maybe? I don't know, Dick. He's not been reaching out for a long time. I've not really spoken to him since he helped me fix up the Clock Tower after I returned to Gotham."

"When did we let him drift so far away from us?"

"I… I don't know. I didn't even realize it was happening… Do you have any further details?"

"Nothing that the police don't have. And I don't think they gave me everything either."

"You're still in the station, aren't you?"

"Yes. They've gone to the Manor to talk. Didn't want me getting in the way."

"They suspect it's a family affair."

"Yes."

"Anything we need to worry about?"

"No. Babs, can you ask around?"

"Already doing so. But you might get more success if you ask yourself."

"Planning on doing so, as soon as I can. What I want to know is how we didn't notice. And I'm not liking the answers that I'm coming up with."

"What are those answers?"

"I'll tell you later." Dick didn't really want to discuss it, but he was starting to have suspicions.

The door opening caught his attentions and he quickly said goodbye as he saw his partner standing in the doorway.

"Up you get, Grayson." His partner declared, "I've got orders to take you home."

"Straight home, I presume, Quill." Dick sighed, "No possible diversions?"

"The detectives don't want you interfering with their interviews. Straight home Grayson. And you get to explain to me exactly how you managed to screw up this bad. God, you talk about your brothers as if they were everything you ever needed. And you manage to lose one? And you didn't even notice?"

"I know. I screwed up. Just… Just things kept happening." Dick ran a hand through his hair, "Can… I need to find Tim. I need to bring him home. I need to apologise to him."

"You need to wait. The detectives are working on it. I'm taking you home."

"Okay." Dick sighed, "But I'm not going to stop until Tim comes home."

They were silent until they got into the car.

"Talk, Grayson. How did you miss this?"

"Tim's the good kid. He's always been the good kid." Dick sighed, "Never gets into trouble. Jay and Dami need help. They need a lot of help. I've been so focused on making sure that they're confident of their place in the family… Tim just… Just slipped between the cracks. I didn't worry about him, because I didn't think I had to."

"That's a pretty poor excuse."

"I know. But you don't know Tim. He's… I wanted him as my brother years before Bruce adopted him. Even before Bruce took me in. He was such a cute kid."

"Hold on, you knew him before?"

"The last night at the Circus…" Dick tailed off, before restarting, "Before the show, we were glad handing. He asked for a photograph with us. Me especially. I promised him that I'd do the performance just for him. He was such a sweet kid. I asked my parents if we could keep him. He even looked like he could have been my brother. I'd wanted a sibling for a long time. And there he was, the perfect little brother."

"And now you've lost him."

"Like hell. I'm going to find him. He's coming home. And then, I'm gonna fix this. I'm going to make sure that nothing like this ever happens again."

"How? How do you lose a kid like that? The perfect kid?"

"Do you know Megan Elliott?" Dick seemed to be changing the topic.

"The cancer kid on fourth?" Quill frowned, "Yeah. I know her."

"What's her sibling called?"

"She's got a sibling?"

"Yeah," Dick nodded, "A good kid. Doesn't cause any fuss. Doesn't make waves. Helps out as much as they can. Can you tell me the name? Or even the gender?"

"No."

"Exactly. When you're focused on one thing, you can exclude everything else. It's like the old video of the basketball players and the gorilla."

"Okay, I get it." Quill sighed, "What is the Elliott kid's name anyway?"

"Tyler. He's ultra-protective of her."

"So that's what it was. You all just focused on Damian and Jason?"

"Pretty much. And I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for that now. God, what have I put him through? What have I let him be put through?"

Dick had both hands fisted in his hair. His mind was conjuring up images upon images of what could have happened and what could be happening even then.

"Hey," Quill tapped his shoulder, "Montoya and Allen are good at their jobs. They'll find out what happened. The only way you could be more certain about that would be if you had the Batman on the case."

Well, that situation was going to change; Nightwing was on the case. So was Oracle. And the rest of the Bats would be following shortly.

And like hell any of them were going to stop until Tim was safe and sound and back where he belonged!

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Please Review.

I write stories because I can't draw. I have all these images in my head that I cannot reproduce. So I try and describe them with words. If anyone else would like to try to translate what I have written into what they think I saw in my head, they have my permission. I only ask that I be notified of it, so that I may look and go "OOoooh!".

Many thanks to my reviewers:

Inthenightguest – Thanks. I hope I continue to entertain.

Sgtwist – I've put Dick as working at GCPD. And Allen is a character from the Gotham City Detectives series, where he became Montoya's partner. As for your other questions… I'm not telling *yet*.

Unpleasant Suit – Of course. I hope to actually finish this story. Although it's going to take longer than I thought initially.