August 16, 0100h "What's going on?" Barbara shouted, a note of panic creeping into her voice at her son's scream. "I'm on the roof," Batman's hard voice replied. His eyes swept over the rescue effort as Superman set the plane down, tilting it slightly to allow Alfred to help Dr. Leslie out of the vehicle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them scrambling to join the others. Peripherals. If he focused on peripherals, he wouldn't see the main event spread out before him. Emergency efforts on a still body. Leslie was there now, doing her job. Good. That meant he could do his. Witnesses. Robin was plugging another unit of blood into Nightwing's arm. He could wait 'til later. That left Spud. He looked down. Superman had taken over the application of the pressure, his arms on either side of the boy, keeping him protected and still part of the operation even though his job was finished. "I need to talk to Spud," he spoke, his voice rougher than usual. Superman-Clark-looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. Wouldn't be the first time, he didn't say. "Bruce, leave him alone," Barbara hissed through his communicator. He didn't bother explaining things to her. He just turned the earpiece off. Clark nodded to Spud who ducked under his arm and went, wide-eyed to Batman. "I need you to tell me what you saw." Spud stared up at him blankly. Batman squatted, sinking to eye level with the boy. "Spud, I need for you to tell me who hurt Dick. I need to know what he looked like. I need to go get him." Bruce's voice. Bruce was here. Bruce would fix everything. "I need you to talk to me." Gauntleted hands reached up to the cowl. Had anyone noticed, they would have stopped and stared as Bruce Wayne stared into the eyes of a scared little boy. "I need you to tell me everything you know." Spud spoke. In a hysterical, blubbering recall, he told Bruce everything he knew. Batman stood up. The cowl was back in place. Bruce Wayne was gone.