-Athena's POV-

My ankles were rubbed raw and my wrists were bloody. I let my head hang limply as I was dragged. Strong arms held me. I could feel the power radiating off of them. I could also feel just how little they cared for me. I tried to ignore it, but their hatred towards me was so intoxicating.

I managed to look up for a split second. The halls of the Temple were so pristine. Assassins and workers alike waltzed through, going about their lives like there wasn't a bloody girl being dragged on the sparkling marble.

We passed by a glowing room for a moment. It was quick, but I recognized the place. It was the cave that held Ra's Al Ghul's main Lazarus Pit. I wished more than anything that the assassins would stop walking. If they just left me in the middle of the floor, I could crawl down the stairs. I could drag my broken body into the life-giving Lazarus and I could escape.

As soon as I tried to make a move, a hand gripped the top stair of the cave. The assassins went stiff and paused to look behind me. The disembodied hand twitched and a body rolled onto the floor. A boy -- no doubt a boy tainted by the Lazarus Pit -- crawled around on the marble as he screamed. The assassins dropped me as they seized the guy. I couldn't tell how old he was. The assassins escorted the boy back down the stairs while he screamed.

Who was that?

I had waited for that moment. The assassins had let me go. But, I couldn't move. I stayed patiently as they dragged another prisoner away. They came back shortly after.

And the torture went on.

***

I woke up on the concrete floor of my safehouse. I guess I rolled out of my hammock...

Standing up cautiously, I walked over to a mirror and tentatively inspected my wounds. At the time, I didn't care if my stitches were perfect. But, as I looked over my work, I had done a very bad job.

Blood stained my Nightingale uniform and dried blood crusted my entire upper body. My stitches were uneven and loose. I rolled my neck back slightly and three stitches ripped out. Sighing, I plopped down in my computer chair and started again.

I pulled out my med kit. One of the many things my training taught me was that a med kit was a blessing. I didn't have a stocked box full of goodies when I was a kid, so to have one was a gift. I ripped out my poor stitching, biting down on my lip at the slight pinch. Fresh blood oozed out almost instantly.

Wow... I thought, Guess I do still have blood to lose!

I grabbed a sterile stitching needle and some actually strong stitches. With steady hands, I weaved through my bloody skin. I had become an expert at dressing my own wounds over time. Not as good as Alfred, I had come to learn, but still experienced. I made sure the stitches were straight. I tightened them where they needed to be tight and loosened them where they needed to be loose.

When the hard work was over, I reached into my box and pulled out two packs of white gauze. Stitching had coated my hands in red, also ruining the gauze. I shrugged it off and wrapped myself up. The first layer was instantly soaked in blood, so I kept applying. As I did so, I glared at the gauze Red Hood had given me.

I was mad. I had let my guard down and for what? Red Hood had taken out both my shoulders because I had let him come along for my mission. Not only that, but he had assumed he knew everything about me. He had revealed my identity and he thought he had revealed my motifs.

"Well guess what?" I shouted outloud as if Red Hood was right in my safehouse, "You don't know anything about me!"

I punched the concrete wall as hard as I could. No shocker, I couldn't feel anything. I clicked on my computer and immediately went to work.

Red Hood had remarked about the criminals being "noisy." He had said they bumbled around so much that it was super easy for him to track them. Well, how loud was he?

I checked through police records and even underground drug records in Gotham about recent activity. Red Hood was very good at hiding his work, of course, but I was good at finding those things that no one wanted to be found. I didn't just "keep my ear to the ground," I dug a hole and listened in.

I spent the next few weeks tracking everything Red Hood did. I studied his every move. His usual MO was to steal other crime organizations' cargo vans. It seemed random...at first. I followed every truck that had been stolen for days without any idea what the connection was. It was like Red Hood was doing it for fun.

But, on one special night, I had found the connection.

I sat atop a gargoyle on Old Wayne Tower. Ever since my first visit to Gotham, it had been my favorite spot. It was the perfect place to defend and offend. If I was attacked, I could grapple off and go virtually anywhere due to the fact that it was surrounded by other skyscrapers. Or, I could throw my perpetrator off the building and they would die from the fall for sure. The height of the old building provided a perfect overview of Gotham. Because it was so old, it was empty almost all the time.

Glancing at my watch, I smirked. Just on time. Red Hood almost always attacked in the same time period at night. He went after the trucks between five p.m. and midnight. It was nine o'clock and sure enough, I saw the unmistakable flash of red.

I dove off of the tower and swung down to the truck. My plan was to stop Red Hood before he secured the cargo and confront him. Then, I would get revenge for my two shoulders and find out why he was still in Gotham.

I landed on top of the truck and used my dagger to smash open the windshield. The truck swerved off to the side of the road, crashing into a light pole. I smiled and pulled out my two pistols. I crouched on the front of the car, staring inside of the broken windshield. Two passed out drug dealers leaned against each other.

Confused, I walked around to the back of the truck. I opened up the back. Sure enough, there was enough guns inside to arm a small militia. But, no Red Hood. I frantically checked everywhere to make sure he wasn't hiding.

I clicked on my com in my ear to pick up sound. As I walked around, I heard something. Someone was watching me and laughing. I scanned my surroundings, but I couldn't find the source of the laughter. Even though I couldn't see him, I was sure it was Red Hood. The laugh was so deep and young, it had to be a cocky young man who took pleasure knowing I was failing.

I left an anonymous tip with the GCPD and left the scene. Thinking hard on what went wrong, I collected everything I had learned. Red Hood had been going after cargo trucks, but which ones?

That's when it came to me. The truck I had intercepted had belonged to the Iceberg Lounge. I rubbed my chin as my mind churned out theories. Every cargo I had managed to intercept before Red Hood got to it had been cargo that belonged to a bigger, badder villain. They had been going directly to villains of Batman.

I had a connection. Red Hood was only stealing cargo from little leaguers. He was stealing from the lesser known but just as dangerous criminals of Gotham; the ones Batman didn't have time to go after. He had taken from big drug smugglers, gangs, and even Black Mask recently. Red Hood was leaving the big guys to Big Batman while he attacked the smaller guys.

With that inference, I planned out every potential route that Red Hood could intercept. I went out in my uniform at three in the afternoon and waited patiently, helping the citizens with small scrimmages to buy time.

When I saw the first truck I had tracked hit the bridge between Bludhaven to Gotham, I kept my eyes sharp. Just as I expected, Red Hood was there.

He grappled through the air, but I was behind him. He seemed to have heard me as he whipped behind to see me. He swung faster, but I caught up. Mid air, I kicked him in the ribs.

"Hey Jackass!" I shouted. Letting my grapple drop, I gripped the rope he was swinging on. The white eyes on his helmet met the ones of my new mask before he winked and let go of his grapple. He disappeared into the business of Gotham.

I desperately chased after him, but he was gone.

I continued my research for days. I would run into Red Hood, get close enough to touch him, then he'd get away. Or I would find the cargo he was going to steal and he would either not be there or he would've already gotten it. It was frustrating, to say the least.

I was going to find Red Hood. I was going to put a knife in his shoulder and I was going to force him to tell me why he was in Gotham. But he was as slippery as a god damn fish!

I didn't handle losing very well. I hated it. I rarely experienced it.

The more hatred I built up, the more my confidence came back. When I first showed up in Gotham, I was the arrogant assassin I had trained to be. But ever since...well...ever since I got back, I had lost that personality. I had become the scared and doubtful girl who didn't know if anything was possible anymore.

But Red Hood was bringing my old self back. It felt good. A part of me knew that I would never get that confidence back, but at least Red Hood was lighting a fire I otherwise couldn't start.

I was still going to kick his ass though.

~~~~Short chapter, I know! Also a lot of time jumps...it's okay though! I love how easily written this book is being right now! Everything is moving along so smoothly thanks to your guys' support! Nothing but love to all my book worms <3 Did anyone watch the BBMA's? BTS FREAKING WON AN AWARD! I LOVE MY BANGTAN BOYS SO MUCH!!!~~~~~~~