-Dick's POV-

I walked around Athena's new apartment. I knew I should've left by now, but I wanted to see how she was living now. It was a small place, similar to mine, but bigger than a loft. There was only one bedroom. I wasn't surprised. Athena didn't seem like the type to have company.

Then, who was that guy? My brain screamed.

My legs lead me around, searching for a photo or something that proved she wasn't as alone as she said. But, there was nothing. Athena never kept pictures anyway. I tried to not let it get to me.

My head throbbed. I gripped it, hoping the pressure would take the endless pain away. I was still feeling the after effects of my embarrassing night out. Why had I let myself drink so much? I never binge drank.

To be honest, I couldn't remember anything. The last thing in my memory was getting inside a cab. Everything after that was blank. I had no idea how I ended up in Athena's house or what had happened between us. A dark feeling crept inside me. What exactly had I said? What had she said? When we briefly talked this morning, she seemed guarded, even more than normal. I had tried to be the situation defuser I usually was, but she wasn't biting. Shivers ran up and down my spine.

I didn't think our relationship could get any colder but apparently all it took was some alcohol.

I found my clothes next to her bed. The thought popped into my mind briefly but judging by Athena's attitude, but I immediately doubted we slept together.

Fumbling with my clothes, I tried to comb my hair down. It was messy and dirty. Still, I could very faintly smell something familiar in my hair and on my body. The scent made me smile against my will.

It was Athena.

She didn't wear perfume very often. And that wasn't what I was smelling. No, it wasn't the artificial scent that I found myself smelling like anytime I was with Barbara. It was Athena's natural smell. I hadn't realized that I had memorized it. But, there it was. It was sweet, like flowers. I would be able to identify it from anywhere.

Even though I was fairly certain that -- despite me being drunk off my ass -- we hadn't had sex, I had to wonder. Why was her scent all over me? Had she touched me? I couldn't imagine her running her hand through my hair or hugging me with how dodgy our current state was.

Sighing through my nose, I locked her front door and climbed out the window onto the fire escape.

It was early morning on a Saturday. Gotham was buzzing with activity. I put on a pair of sunglasses and kept my head down, cursing the sun for being so bright when I was clearly in pain. Every noise in Gotham felt like a high pitched whistle or scream. And Gotham was never quiet. Each passing car, laughing child, or dog bark made my head explode.

I mumbled curses to myself as I made my way home. I slowly unlocked the door and stepped in.

"Good morning," Barbara greeted in a normal voice that sounded like she was shouting. I gripped my head and plopped onto the couch.

The action didn't go unnoticed.

She grabbed two cups of coffee and sat across from me. From across the small table, she studied me carefully. I groaned and leaned back, closing my eyes. "So...what happened?" Babs asked, gently pushing the mug towards me. I picked it up like it was a winning lottery ticket.

"Ughhhh," I sipped the coffee. It tasted like liquid heaven. The bitterness of the coffee quickly got rid of the lasting taste of tequila that had stuck around.

Barbara crossed her arms. She patiently waited for me to look up at her and answer her question. I took another gulp of my coffee. "Dick," she said, "how did you get so hungover?"

Now that I could answer. Getting drunk with Wally was one of my last memories. "Wally," I said. It wasn't his fault. I was just as much to blame. I laughed to myself. Artemis must've been having a field day trying to nurse him back to health.

"Where were you last night?" Barbara was interviewing and interrogating me, but her tone was completely void of anger or jealously. I grinned. It was another reason why being with Barbara was always stress free.

Despite Barb's lack of jealously, I still didn't want to tell the truth. I knew what she would say. She would continuously ask me if I had feelings for her still, if I was hiding something, if I didn't care about her anymore, blah blah blah. I wasn't ready to answer those questions. Especially with a killer hangover.

I cleared my throat and tossed off my sunglasses. "I just went back to the Manor and passed out. I came as quick as I could," I lied. Barbara nodded and leaned back.

"That's so weird," she said, calmly, "I could've swore Athena called me this morning telling me that you had shown up drunk at her apartment."

My cheeks turned red. I coughed. Barbara still didn't look mad. Somehow, her blank look scared me more than if she just was flat out mad. "Look," I started. I couldn't find the words to explain.

Barbs just laughed. She reached forward, placing her hand on my knee. "Dick, you don't have to lie to me. I know nothing happened," Babs reassured me, smiling gently, "I trust you. Why didn't you tell me the truth? Are you ashamed by it?"

I slouched down into my chair. The interrogation was already starting. Another headache starting coming on. "This is why I didn't tell you," I sassed, my voice sounding harsher than I wanted, "I don't remember most of what happened so it's not a big deal. I was drunk and I went there by accident."

"Dick..."

"No, Barbara. I'm telling you. Nothing is going on between us. I'm over that. I'm with you now," I asserted, taking Barb's hand in mine own. I tugged her forward, bring her lips to mine.

She pulled away quickly. "Ew, Dick. You need a mint. Then, you can kiss me," Barbs teased, kissing my cheek. I nodded and headed to the shower.

-

Bruce leaned against the Batcomputer, his arms crossed as he looked at the ground. He was lost in thought. I had to admit, I was at a loss of what our next move should be too. Bruce hadn't believed me that Nightingale was working with Red Hood at first, but now, we were on the same page again.

We were steps behind. Both of us could feel that. No one had ever lasted as long as Red Hood against Batman. We were able to successfully take down most villains. But, Red Hood was smart. And it didn't help that one of our old allies was helping him.

I bit my lip. "What should we do, Bruce?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, walking over to the Batmobile. "We need to find out who this man is. Now."

I hopped in beside him. We drove to the Wayne family grave site. I raised an eyebrow, confused why were there in the first place. Bruce passed his parents' graves, squatting beside an equally painful one.

Jason Todd.

Memories of the tortured boy filled my head. When he first showed up, it was when I had first became Nightwing. He was eleven years old and he acted like it. I remembered his smiles and the endless prank wars we had.

Then, I remembered his later years as Robin. He was fifteen, yet he acted so much older. Even at the ripe old age of seventeen, I knew Jason was acting older than he was. Jason struggled with true justice and brutality. He was reverting to his old life, the one Bruce had tried to save him from. Jason began to rebel and be more bold.

And that's when he died.

The grave was only six years old, but it looked so much older. Bruce carefully inspected the grave, looking for a single thing wrong with it. "You don't seriously think that Red Hood is Jason, do you?" I asked, avoiding even touching the dirt that covered the old friend's body.

"No," Bruce answered, "but I have to be cautious."

I rolled my eyes. Bruce was still paranoid.

About a year ago, a man by the name of Hush had showed up and terrorized Bruce in the same way that Red Hood was doing now. When we corned the man, he took off his white bandages and claimed he was Jason Todd, back from the grave. However, when Bruce finally got the guy down, it turns out it was just Clayface. I had thought Bruce had shrugged it off like the rest of us.

"You seriously believe that Clayface was telling the truth?" I said, laughter in my voice. Bruce was really believing convicts now?

"No," Bruce hissed sharply, scanning underneath the dirt, "but, like I said, I have to be cautious."

Bruce continued to inspect the grave. When he started to dig, I had to leave. I wasn't going to watch Bruce's anxiety tear up a kid's grave. I knew it was best to not stop him, but I didn't want to participate.

Jason had died and that haunted everyone. But, Bruce took it harder than everyone else. After all, he was still convinced it was his fault.

But, Jason's death hurt me too. I saw Jason as my younger bother. I wanted to protect him, too. Jason was two years younger than me. For teenagers, that's equivalent to ten years. When I became Nightwing, Jason thought I was the coolest kid ever. We always went on patrol together until Bruce demanded his Robin back.

When Jason started to act out, I tried to give him advice. I put everything into making sure he stayed on the right path. So, when he died, I felt like I had failed too.

I had lost a brother when Jason died. Bruce had lost a son, but I had lost a brother. And now that Tim was getting ready to leave the Robin mantle too, I felt like I was failing all over again.

I wanted to blame my problems on Red Hood. I wanted to blame them on Nightingale, too. But, a part of me knew that it wasn't their fault. My life was slipping away, ripping at the edges, and I couldn't stop it. I had Barbara to anchor me down, but I still felt like I was falling off the edge of the Earth.

I had to find Red Hood.

~~~~~~~~Kinda short chapter lol. Updates have been slower so sorry you guys. I love hearing your guys opinions on the story! You guys should know that the ending of this story is already planned out and it is JUICY. Anyone wanna make any predictions in the comments? ;) But, that's very far away from now. We got time. ~~~~~~~~