As soon as the picture got leaked, the media swarmed towards the Wayne manor like flies on rotten meat. Lights flashed across the massive fence, there was excited murmuring and chatter and journalists and reporters almost trampled over each other in order to get the scoop. There were even vans and trucks all the way from different corners of America like Metropolis and Star City all eager to leap into this scoop.

As soon as the Wayne family butler stepped out of the manor holding a megaphone the media was abuzz with questions.

“What do you know about…?”

“How long have you…?”

“Where is Mr. Wayne…?”

The butler cleared his throat and spoke. The megaphone let out a squeal of life.

“Master Wayne is currently unable to make himself available for questions owing to an important business trip in the Swiss Alps,” Alfred said. “For my own peace I kindly request you vacate the premises otherwise legal action will be pursued against each and every one of you.”

However, all that statement managed to encourage was the media taking a few steps back from the giant gates that separated them from the manor. They still continued asking questions and taking photos of the Alfred and the mansion.

Alfred let out a defeated sigh and retreated back into the mansion. Once he was sure he was clear of their sights he took a secret elevator down into the Batcave where him and Jason were holed up ever since the media circus began. They were told not to leave by Master Wayne and await further instructions. Jason was busy pacing around the silver walkways impatiently when Alfred descended down into the Cave.

“What’s happening up there?” Jason asked.

Alfred shook his head solemnly. “Nothing good, unfortunately.”

“Is it true?” Jason asked. “What they’re saying?”

Alfred placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I don’t know, dear boy. I don’t know.”

It was at that moment the Batmobile crashed through the waterfall, screeching to a halt. Master Wayne almost broke the door open as he got out of the vehicle. He threw his mask aside, storming towards the Batcomputer.

“Computer,” Master Wayne growled. “Run that photo through every check imaginable. Make sure it isn’t forged, edited or whatever with one hundred percent certainty.”

“Commissioner Gordon is calling,” droned the Batcomputer.

“Tell him I’m busy.”

Alfred took cautious steps as he tried to close the distance between him and Master Wayne.

“Sir…”

Master Wayne was hunched over the computer, a dejected look on his face. He didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he just asked one question.

“What did you know about this, Alfred?”

“Sir I…”

“What did you know about this Alfred?” Bruce snapped like a wild beast.

“I don’t know anything about this,” Alfred said. “I…”

“You’ve known mum and dad for longer than I have,” Bruce said. “There’s no way you don’t know anything about this now stop lying to me and…”

“I’m not lying to you!” Alfred snapped back. Something he had never done before. “Look into my eyes, Master Wayne, does it look like the eyes of a liar to you?”

Alfred met Master Bruce’s intense glare with a glare of his own. At that, Master Bruce’s stance relaxed but just barely. “I’m sorry, Alfred. It’s just…”

“I understand what you’re going through,” Alfred said, placing a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “I loved your father as much as you.”

Alfred sighed. “It seemed your father took many secrets to his grave, secrets even I wasn’t aware of.”

“No,” Bruce said, clenching his fist. “This photo, it has to be forged. There’s no way this is real. No way.”

“And we’ll find out in due course,” Alfred said. “But prancing around, snapping at things like a wild animal won’t clear up the turmoil you’re feeling. You’ve got to take a step back and see the bigger picture.”

“You’re right Alfred,” Bruce said, he pinched the bridge of the nose. At that moment the Batcomputer buzzed.

“Incoming call from Commissioner Gordon.”

“Put him through,” Bruce said.

“Batman,” Gordon said. “Some of our boys did a search of all the factories that Master Planner clown blew up. We found the bomb. I want you to see it, find out if there’s anything we missed.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Bruce said and then cut the call. He turned to Alfred.

“Remember Master Bruce,” Gordon said. “Don’t let the emotion get to you.”

It was at that moment Jason decided to pop up. “Can I come? I did all the training and…”

“No,” Bruce said, entering the Batmobile. “You stay here. You are not to leave the cave until my say so.”

“But I did everything you asked,” Jason protested. “I did all my training and…”

“I said no, Jason,” Bruce said. “It’s too dangerous for any of us to be outside.”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred said. “I highly advise against that course of…”

But by then the door clamped shut and the Batmobile was off.

Jason let out a scream of anger. “Why is he always like this?”

“He’s going through a tough time,” Alfred said. “I hope you understand.”

“It’s like he doesn’t even want me around!” Jason screamed, kicking the walkways.

“It’s not that,” Alfred said. “Master Bruce can be paranoid, sometimes.”

Jason crossed his arms. “More like all the time.”

Alfred sighed. “I’ll get us something to eat, remember what the Master said. Stay here.”

Jason groaned. “Fine. I can’t wait till this whole thing blows over.”

“Me too, Master Todd,” Alfred said. “Me too.”

…

Batman and Gordon stepped into an empty interrogation room. Sitting on a table was a hollow shell of a bomb, the plastic melted off.

“What did you find out?” Batman asked.

“A few dead,” Gordon said. “Some injured. Scientists and forensics tore the bomb apart, they said it’s something they haven’t seen before.”

Batman picked up the bomb. He looked inside and saw the Waynetech mark in the fuse of the bomb.

“Waynetech?” Batman said.

Gordon nodded. “Yep. You know how hush-hush Wayne Corp is with their technology. Scientists took a while trying to figure out what most of the wires even did.”

So, his own technology caused the deaths of the people he was supposed to protect. Batman’s grip tightened around the bomb shell.

“What do you think?” Batman asked. “About the whole Wayne family scandal?”

Gordon shrugged. He was a tiny bit confused; it wasn’t like Batman to be concerned about Gotham scandals. “I don’t know. Rich family like them will probably have their fair share of secrets. People don’t make that much money without a few shady deals here and there. What’s it to you?”

Batman placed the bomb down. “I’ll analyse this in the lab. I’ll send you the results.”

Batman walked off. It was only after a while he realised that Batman didn’t answer his question.

…

Perched atop the branches, covered by the tall trees and tangled branches Peter watched over the Wayne Manor with a pair of binoculars. Dotted around the mansion’s walls were tents, news vans and media officials all abuzz with the recent Wayne Family scandal.

“I didn’t know the Waynes were this big,” Peter said through the radio. Barbara’s voice crackled to life on the other side.

“They’re essentially celebrities in Gotham,” Barbara said. “Did you see anything on Alfred or Jason?”

“Alfred’s doing his usual rounds around the mansion,” Peter said. “Jason and Bruce are still stuck in the cave I assume. I don’t get why it’s such a big deal though. To Bruce, I mean.”

“His parents are the whole reason he does this.” Barbara paused. “I’m worried about him. I tried calling him to see how he’s doing but he hasn’t been answering my calls.”

“That means he’s not taking it well,” Peter said. He took out his binoculars and noticed a drone buzzing atop the windows. “Drone.”

“On it.”

The drone flickered to life for a second before plummeting to the grass.

“What do you think?” Peter said.

“About?”

“The whole scandal?”

Barbara paused. “I mean we still don’t know if it’s the truth or not…”

“What if it is?”

“Well, I’d be worried about Bruce,” Barbara said. “But there’s also the fact that no matter how much we love them, our parents aren’t perfect. They’re human just like us and I don’t think Bruce realises that.”

“Drone.”

Another drone landed, this time it crashed into the fence.

“What about you?” Barbara asked.

“Well, I didn’t really care much about the Wayne family,” Peter said. “Growing up, Bruce was my hero. He was an orphan just like me but that didn’t stop him from doing good things for the world and for orphans like me. But that was before…”

“The incident.” Barbara said.

Peter chuckled. “Yep.”

Just then, Peter’s phone started to ring. “Hold on, I think I have to take this.”

Peter took out his phone and sure enough it was Dr. Curt Connors.

“Parker, you’re running late,” Connors said.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said. “School work, I’ll be there in…”

“What did I say about discipline?” Connor said. “Part of being disciplined is being on time.”

“Yes, Dr. Connors,” Peter said. “I’ll be there in a jiff.”

Peter hung up. He pressed the radio. “I have to go to work. You’ll be fine on your own?”

Barbara nodded. “Yep. I have access to all the secret Wayne cameras outside, even the ones Bruce didn’t give me permission to use.”

Peter was genuinely surprised. “Oh wow, you’re really good at this aren’t you?”

Peter didn’t have to see her face to know she was beaming with pride. “Yep. Spending most of my time with computers you tend to learn a thing or two.”

Peter started to swing away.

“Remember we still have to visit the Santinis after work,” Barbara said.

“I mean I could always do it myself,” Peter said. “You don’t have to…”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Peter,” Barbara said firmly. And that was the end of the argument.

“Alright,” Peter said. “I’ll see you there.”

Peter hung up. He perched atop a branch and launched, attaching his web to another tree he swung across the branches….

Only for the branch to snap, leading him to slam onto the ground with leaves spread across his face.

Peter groaned. “Story of my life.”

…

Peter had to flap around his limbs trying to put on the lab coat as he made his way to the glass windowed office. Connors was waiting for him.

“You’re late Parker,” Connors said.

“Yes, I’m sorry…”

“Doesn’t matter,” the doctor said. “Let’s get to work.”

They started work on the formula.

“You told me you’d synthesis the last formula?” Peter asked. “How did that go?”

“It didn’t work,” Connors said with an exasperated sigh. “Maybe you can take a gander, see what I missed.”

Peter stared at the formula scrawled across the board written in a lime green ink. He walked into the corner and noticed something off.

“Dr. Connors,” Peter said. “You might want to see this.”

Dr. Connors walked towards the board, right at Peter’s side.

“Go on, Peter,” Connors said.

“Well, you see,” Peter said. “I think we should decrease the amount of Lithium Carbonate.”

“That’s too risky,” Connors said. “We’re dealing with DNA transfer and integration. The Lithium exists to make sure the DNA doesn’t alter personality.”

“But I feel as if it’s reducing the potency of the DNA alteration,” Peter said. “It’s reducing the purity. I agree it’s a delicate balance but we’re working with very little time and…”

Connor’s nod was grim. “I understand where you’re coming from Peter. I’ll reduce the Lithium percentage and begin the synthesis. I will let you in on the results.”

Peter nodded. “Yes. I haven’t had the best luck lately but fingers crossed it goes according to plan.”

Curt held up his left hand. “Fingers crossed.”

…

“Lucius,” Bruce said, Mr. Fox’s face plastered on the centre screen of the Batcomputer. “Is the line secure?”

“Yes Master Bruce,” Lucius Fox said. “I tripled checked.”

“I wanted to ask about Otto Octavius,” Batman said. “What project was he involved with? Why did my father terminate his contract with him especially since he was such a great scientist?”

“It’s true Octavius was a great scientist,” Fox said. “One of the greatest minds I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was part of the then Wayne Industries prosthetics program. Octavius came up with a new kind of prosthetic, one that would immediately respond to your thoughts much like an actual limb. It would accomplish this by connecting a neurochip to your spinal column, hijacking your nervous system and allowing you to move flexibly.”

“What happened?” Bruce asked. “Technology like that would have revolutionised prosthetics as we know it.”

“Well,” Fox said. “Otto had been diagnosed with a degenerative neurological disorder shortly after his first breakthrough. That made him increasingly more desperate, so desperate in fact that he started to begin human experimentation without the Wayne’s consent. The side effects of such experimentation were… disastrous to say the least. Many of the subjects suffered acute paralysis, others even died. Your father wanted to pursue legal action but due to the disorder Octavius was facing decided it would be best to terminate his contract and deny him his medical licence. Octavius was never allowed in a lab ever again.”

Alfred arrived at Bruce’s side.

“Thank you Lucius,” Bruce said. “That will be all.”

The centre screen of the Batcomputer flickered to darkness. Bruce had his hand over his chin.

“You seem to be brooding more than usual,” Alfred said. “What seems to be the matter?”

“A smear campaign made by a sad petty man,” Bruce said. “This is all that is. My parent’s name is being dragged across the mud because Octavius wants to play the victim.”

“That could very well be the case,” Alfred said. “But in this city things are rarely ever that simple.”

“Are you saying my parents were criminals?” Master Bruce snapped, getting up from his chair.

“No, I’m just saying that there’s a lot we don’t know,” Alfred said. “We have to be prepared for any situation that may arise.”

“Get out of my sight,” Master Bruce said dryly.

“Excuse me,” Alfred said.

“I said get out of my sight!” Master Bruce growled.

“Master Bruce I loved your parents almost as much as you did,” Alfred said. “Flaws and all. Meanwhile, you’re letting your love for them cloud your judgement. You’re not seeing things clearly and that’s affecting your activity…”

“If I need your advice I’ll ask for it,” Bruce shouted. “Now get out of my sight and don’t let me see you here again!”

Alfred let out a sigh of pity, he tried desperately to hide his breaking heart. “Fine then, Master Bruce. If that is what you wish.”

Bruce sat on his seat, not meeting Alfred’s eyes.

“But take this as a warning, Master Bruce,” Alfred said. “Otto Octavius has nothing left to lose. That makes him dangerous.”

Alfred stared at Bruce’s prosthetic leg, almost sticking out amidst the pristine silver walkways of the Batcave.

“A lot more dangerous than you.”

…

The Santinis lived a few blocks away from Crime Alley in a pretty well to do (for Gotham at least) residential area with two storey houses lining the streets. Peter had to push Barbara’s wheelchair up and down the street until they found the house they were looking for. House number 2. Missing person posters littered the walls. In the garden were toys that were starting to succumb to the weather, littered with ferns and dust. The front porch looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in days.

They climbed up the stairs and rang the bell.

“Remember the story we practiced,” Barbara whispered.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “We’re part of the Wayne Missing Person’s program. Though how she’s going to believe a bunch of teenagers are part of something that intense I don’t know.”

“Just trust me, Peter.”

“I do,” Peter said. “But we’re jumping into this unprepared, it’s not…”

The door opened and Mrs. Santini stood in front of them. “Look if this is another prank, I will not hesitate to call the…”

Barbara held up a card that was wrapped around her neck. “Mrs. Santini, I’m Amy Beddoes and this is my boyfriend, Peter Palmer. We’re representatives working on behalf of the Wayne Missing Persons initiative.”

Mrs. Santini squinted at them. Peter started feeling his body warm up. Barbara had gone through an effort to change up her appearance. She wore a black wig over her distinguishing red hair and removed the glasses entirely. Barbara figured Peter was inconspicuous enough, so she didn’t bother coming up with a disguise and just told him to wear his glasses. Peter hoped she’d buy the disguise.

“I didn’t get any calls from this… organisation you’re talking about.”

“Well, we work closely with the Gotham Police,” Barbara said with a light smile. “And you know how disorganised they are.”

Barbara handed the card over to Mrs. Santini who took a glance at it. “Seems official enough. Aren’t you a little too young to be working in an organisation like this…”

“We…” Barbara seemed as if she had hit a stump but then Peter pitched in.

“Get that a lot,” Peter said. “The young part. Trust us when we say we’re a lot older than we look.”

Mrs. Santini handed the card back to Barbara. “As long as you can help me track down my boy, I don’t care what you guys do. Please come in.”

When she turned her back, Barbara and Peter gave each other a big smile.

“But if this turns out to be a prank,” Mrs. Santini said, turning around. “I will make sure you personally burn in hell, is that clear?”

Peter and Barbara heads bobbed up and down in agreement with nervous smiles on their faces.

…

They sat around a small coffee table. The kettle squealed in the kitchen where Mrs. Santini was making them tea. Barbara took as a sign to mean that she at least somewhat trusted them. Peter was sitting next to her, twiddling his thumbs nervously. Barbara was glad the cards she forged had worked. The Wayne Missing Persons Program did exist but like everything with the Wayne name was currently in a purgatory state due to Bruce’s absence. The living room was small and quaint but most of the furniture in it looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. A small layer of dust settled atop it and many toys and kids clothes were scattered about.

The kettle stopped. Mrs. Santini walked into the living room holding a small metal tray.

“I apologise for the mess,” Mrs. Santini said. “Things haven’t been the same ever since Jimmy…”

Barbara gave her a comforting smile. “It’s okay, ma’am. That’s why we’re here. To help.”

“I… I don’t know where to start,” Mrs. Santini said. “There’s just… a lot of things have happened since James went missing and…”

“Let’s start from the beginning,” Barbara said.

“When James was born, they were well, some complications,” Mrs. Santini said. “The doctors said as he grew up, he’d slowly start to lose his hearing until it disappeared completely. The doctors said it was treatable and that they were trying a new experimental treatment. They offered us the treatment for such a cheap price.” Mrs. Santini sniffed. “My husband and I, we were desperate and now looking back I’m sure they knew that. We accepted provided they showed us the place. And they did. It was an address down at the Narrows. Everybody there was friendly and nice and sweet. We went ahead with the deal and…”

Mrs. Santini started to sob. “They said we wouldn’t be able to visit. We should’ve known something was up then. And then the treatment took so long, we were starting to worry and when we went there…” Mrs. Santini started to cry. “I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s okay,” Barbara said with a soft voice. “Take your time.”

“They were all gone,” Mrs. Santini said. “That place… it was empty. It was as if nothing happened. The cops… they carried out an investigation and found nothing. And I could see it in their eyes. They thought we were crazy. They thought God forbid that we had done something to our son.”

Mrs. Santini started to cry. “And yes, it’s our fault, we were too trusting and our son had to suffer for it. Our son is God knows where but if… if you can help, please do. Please. We made some mistakes but if our son can be saved than it will be worth it.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Santini,” Barbara said. “We’ll do everything we can. Would it be possible for you to tell us the location of the hospital?”

Mrs. Santini wiped her eyes. “I… I can.”

“We’ll do whatever we can to make sure you get your son back,” Barbara said. “We promise.”

Mrs. Santini nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

Mrs. Santini gave them the location and Peter and Barbara were on their way there.

“So… I head there,” Peter said. “See what I can find…”

“We head there,” Barbara said.

“Barbara, the doctors said you still need to recover…”

“And I won’t recover being coddled like a baby by both you and my father,” Barbara said. “Besides you’re forgetting that I’m a trained detective.”

“But…”

“Peter I’m Batgirl,” Barbara said. “Nothing’s too dangerous for me.”

Peter sighed. “Fine, fine. I’ll take you but if anything, and I mean anything bad happens, we’re getting out of there fast.”

“Fine,” Barbara said. “Let’s see what’s up with that hospital.”

…

Jason was slowly getting tired of the cave. His only company in the day was Bats and Alfred. Alfred was fine, if a little old but all the Bats could do was screech which didn’t make for interesting conversation.

The other person he could talk to was Bruce but that was like talking to a brick wall. In the mornings all he did was look at the security camera and complain about the media. That picture of his parents was plastered on the Batcomputer all throughout the day and night, thinking he had missed something. He reminded Jason of that old homeless man at Crime Alley who used to collect cans and sell them off for pennies. But he only ever used those pennies to buy himself cheap food and a drink, he said one day he’d buy himself a house with that money. He had his eyes set on an old house outside of Crime Alley. Jason never knew why he was so fixated on that house, the same reason he never knew why the old man killed himself when he found out somebody had already bought the place.

At night, Bruce left the cave leaving Jason alone with nothing to do but train or stare at the blank computer for hours. It was driving Jason insane. Sure, Alfred got him whatever he wanted, and Jason could never complain about Alfred’s cooking but living the same day over and over again was starting to drive him crazy. To make matters worse, Bruce didn’t let him join his adventures. He insisted Jason wasn’t ready yet. No matter how many hours he trained, Bruce was never satisfied.

He wasn’t even allowed to leave the cave. Bruce said with the media outside it would dangerous if word got out that he was there. To make matters worse, Bruce made sure there were tight security measures to ensure that nobody besides Alfred got out.

Jason hated this. He hated Bruce, he hated Alfred, he hated the damn bats. He just wanted to be free and stretch his legs and breathe air that didn’t smell like bat shit. He just wanted to see any other place besides this damn cave. More importantly, he just wanted some damn ice cream.

Jason heard the familiar hiss of the cave door opening. Alfred’s steps echoed down the cave, Jason perked up. Finally, dinner and some semblance of the outside world.

“Dinner is served,” Alfred said, setting the platter down in front of Jason.

It was roast chicken and steak, again. Jason ate the food. He remembered when he had first had this meal in the Wayne Manor, it was so delicious he almost vomited. A giant step up from the food he had scrapped by in the streets. Now, however it tasted just as bland as a sandwich he’d buy in a convenience store.

“What’s wrong Master Todd?” Alfred asked. “You seem glum.”

Jason was picking at his food. “It’s just so boring here. There’s nothing to do. I’m sick and tired of training and studying and training and studying… I want to go out.”

“Well, you know what Master Bruce…”

“I know what that asshole says!” Jason snapped. “But I need to go out. I miss fighting, I miss going out there. I just…”

Jason sighed.

Alfred put a hand on his shoulder. “Master Bruce is going through a lot right now. I know it’s too much to ask of you but please try to understand and please be patient. I’m sure you’ll be out of here in no time.”

Alfred gave him a reassuring smile. Jason smiled back and gave him a hug.

“Thanks Alfred.”

After that, they talked about the media. How long Alfred expected they’d be there. They shared some jokes about and soon, Alfred left the cave leaving Jason alone in the dark, again.

Once he was sure Alfred was out of an earshot, he shuffled through his pockets and picked up Alfred’s security card.

Jason felt a pang of guilt in his heart. “I’m sorry Alfred.”

…

The ‘hospital’ the Santinis had sent their son had been wiped clean of anything to trace back to the original owners. Barbara checked online and found out that the building was bought by some non-existent shell company. When Peter and Barbara went in to investigate, there was nothing, not even dust bunnies. There was no trace anybody had been there at all. No equipment, nothing.

The building in itself was inconspicuous. It was big enough to run a small hospital. Aside from the view of the sea, there was nothing else to set it apart from the rest of the houses and warehouses it was surrounded by.

“There’s nothing here,” Peter said. “It’s clean. Almost too clean that must mean…”

Barbara nodded. “Yep. Someone’s trying to hide something.”

And they were very good at hiding it. They couldn’t find anything in the building. By the time they finished search ever nook and cranny of the building it was sunset. Peter and Barbara were about to call it a day. They decided to search the roof just in case they missed anything and that was when Barbara found it.

She rolled her wheelchair towards the edge of the hospital building.

“You found something?” Peter asked, following after her.

“Yep,” Barbara said. “There I see blood. Dried but it’s there.”

Barbara saw a scar of dried red blood spread across the pavement. It almost looked like paint. “And if I look there…”

She turned her wheelchair around and saw more stains littering the pavement. “Bingo,” she said.

“Somebody was running up the building, wounded,” Barbara said. “Their trailed stopped…”

Barbara saw that the blood trail stopped at the edge of the roof. “Here, where they…”

“Peter go check down there,” Barbara said, pointing at the small backlot of the building.

“But what about you?” Peter asked. “You sure…”

“I’ll be fine Peter,” Barbara said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not a baby.”

Peter looked like he was about to say something but decided against it. He leapt off the building, landing gracefully in the backlot.

“What am I looking for?” he called out.

“Anything that looks like a bloodstain.”

It would’ve been hard to clean a body so Barbara was sure Peter would find something. She just hoped the blood samples she found weren’t James’s.

With Peter looking for blood samples down there, she wondered how she would find and analyse the blood samples on the roof. She had bought some vials from Bruce’s lab she had lying around at home in her bag. She shuffled out her bag and pulled out the vials. Then she pulled herself out of her wheelchair and onto the floor running her fingers through the blood sample and fucking crawling to collect the samples she needed.

In the corner of her eye, she swore she saw something move. It was starting to get dark, so she figured it was just the night setting in.

At that exact moment, Peter felt a familiar tingle down his spine. He had his suit tucked under his clothes and his mask stuffed in his jeans pocket.

“Barbara,” Peter said. “Barbara are you okay?”

It happened so fast. The sound of leather wings lunging, a loud screech and Barbara’s scream echoing in the night sky.

…

It had been a while since Jason saw the manor of the manor that it almost felt alien walking through the hallways.

It felt like a ghost town at night. The only sound was the crickets chirping and Jason’s footsteps. Alfred was probably fast asleep if not cleaning somewhere else and Bruce hadn’t set foot in the manor ever since the press incident. It was just Jason. He walked through the familiar unfamiliar hallways, the only source of light being the lights from all the trucks and cars parked outside the manor which Jason avoided.

All Jason wanted to do was grab some ice cream, walk around the manor a bit and then return to the cave. Bruce and Alfred didn’t need to know he was here and besides they would never know he was here. Sneaking around was his forte from both his time in Crime Alley and working as Robin.

Or so he thought.

Jason was unaware that a reporter had snuck past the security systems and saw Jason walking around the manor through the large windows.

So, while Jason was in the kitchen, eating some ice cream and having the time of his life the reporter took a photo of him. Jason felt he was being watched but when he turned around to look, the reporter was gone.

To be continued…