August 16, 0200h

	The skin on Tim's legs stung, chafed almost raw by the blood 
drying in the kevlar weave of his uniform.  He had pulled Batman off 
three different muggers in the past hour and somehow dissuaded him from 
a fool's mission to Blockbuster's Avalon Hill home, but still Batman 
insisted on scouring the streets for any sign of Nightwing's attacker.  
It was a fair bet from Spud's description that the man had cloaked 
himself in the night and would lie low, and even their short 
eavesdropping session at one of Blockbuster's warehouses suggested that 
no one knew there was a plan to bring down the city's resident 
vigilante.
	Batman suddenly moved beside him, and for a moment Tim feared he 
would crash down on the men beneath them and demand information from 
them that they clearly would not know.  Instead, Batman shot out a jump 
line, heading back in the direction of downtown.
	Tim was hot on his heels when a soft voice came over his comlink.
	"Superman to Robin."
	"Yeah," Tim whispered, trusting the wind as he whipped through the 
air to keep his voice from reaching Batman.
	"I know you're with him, so you don't have to answer.  Just, if 
you can find a way to get him back here -"
	Tim landed softly beside Batman, who sat crouched at ready.  After 
a brief moment, Tim realized he was waiting for the approaching blue 
line el train, and he psyched himself for the jump.
	"Robin, they're doing everything they can, but - but I don't know 
how many times they can restart his heart."
	Superman's voice was very quiet, and Tim bit the inside of his 
cheek to keep his face from betraying his reaction to this news.  Batman 
still noticed some change in his partner's demeanor, because he shot a 
scathing glance in his direction before launching himself onto the 
train.
	In the moment's cover provided by his own jump, Tim whispered, 
"I'll try," before landing with an awkward bounce.  Before he had an 
opportunity to right himself, he felt a heavy hand grip him tightly, 
holding his arm until he was steady and then dropping it without 
comment.  Batman had said less than ten words to him since they had left 
the rooftop...
	The rooftop.  With sudden clarity, Tim realized that's where they 
were heading, and his stomach flip-flopped.  Tim doubted he would ever 
be able to even walk into the Old Passeo Building without a sick 
feeling, let alone go back to the roof.
	Scene of the crime - that's what Batman had to be thinking.  Never 
mind that whatever clues the machete man might have left would either 
have been obliterated by a pool of blood or trampled away by their 
efforts to save Dick.
	It didn't stop Batman.  Tim forced his unwilling body to follow 
Batman's leap from the train, his swings over darkened streets, and 
finally his landing back where less than two hours before, Dick Grayson 
had stood whole and healthy and prepared to lecture his son.
	Batman watched Tim land, then walked toward the edge of the roof.  
"He jumped down here?" he asked.
	Tim nodded woodenly, pushing himself to point out the exact spot.  
The blood seemed to cover half the rooftop, tracked by feet and by the 
wheels of the gurney to a broader area than it had originally covered.
	Batman studied the thigh high lip of the roof, his eyes narrowing 
as he engaged various lenses in his cowl and scrutinized the area.  His 
hand never reached for his belt for any evidence bags; the man who had 
cut down Nightwing was good.  He had to be good, Tim reminded himself.
	Batman shifted his study over the edge of the building, examining 
the drop to the ground.  "Jump line?"
	"I don't know," Tim answered, fighting the urge to point out that 
he had more important things on his mind when he saw what had happened.
	Batman grunted and finally turned to face the spot where Nightwing 
had fallen.  He tread carefully from where he stood to the edge of the 
blood, examining the area for a trace of a footprint, a faint trail, 
anything.
	Tim stayed by the roof's edge, his eyes tracking Batman but 
deliberately unfocused.  He watched as Batman knelt down, his fingers 
reaching down to the red puddle at his feet, and then stood again.  
Nothing.  There was nothing to find here but blood and pain.
	"Bruce?"
	Batman ignored him, the turned back communicating more than an 
angry glare might have.
	"Batman, stop."
	Now Batman did turn, drawing himself up to his full height and 
letting his cape settle around him on all sides.  His stance was 
challenging.
	"We need to be there - with him.  Not - not chasing - not -"
	The force of the glare from Batman's shielded eyes silenced him.   
Tim lowered his head for a moment.
	"We need to draw him out, make him think the job's not done."
	"How -" Tim looked up, startled, at his mentor, but his question 
died on his lips.  "No."
	"You would rather he gloat over his victory?"  Batman didn't wait 
for an answer.  "We need to be back in Gotham now.  You've got to work 
in the morning."
	Tim stared incredulously at Batman, but he had turned his back and 
was already readying his jump line.  How could he just go to the office 
in the morning, just be Tim Drake on another ordinary day?
	Because he had to, a voice reminded him.  It was what he did.
	With a heavy heart, Tim followed Batman from the roof.