Part 2 here we go! This kinda vaguely set during follow issues after Tim's 'death', but you don't need to read them to get the story. Hope you guys like it. :D

In reply to Inthenightguest: Okay so here's what happened. There were these weaponized drones that were gonna kill a lot of people. They were out of time so Tim hacked them to target his location instead. ALL OF THEM. Like hundreds. Backup didn't get there in time so Tim fought them off on his own. He made it through the first wave, but the second was way worse. It appeared as though he died in an explosion. BUT at the last second he was teleported away by a mysterious figure named Mr. Oz. He kept Tim imprisoned for a really long time, and no one figured it out. They all thought Tim was dead. Hope this helps!

Jason Todd once again found himself perched on the edge of some heinously high structure, that was where he seemed to find himself a lot these days. Then again, that was where he had been finding himself since the day he put on the Robin suit.

But this time it wasn't a skyscraper, or a fire escape, it was a satellite. More specifically, a S.T.A.R. Labs satellite, a new addition to this particular branch of the facility. The position he was crouched in was an uncomfortable and awkward one, but it was the spot with the strongest signal.

Briefly, Jason wondered if being around radio waves this powerful was healthy. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for any unusual growths or hair loss, and then to give Tim a hard time about it when he found him.

If he found him. He had to keep reminding himself it was an if, not a when. Jason had nothing solid to go on, only anomalies. Little things that should or should not be there. He'd spent hours sifting through all the available data, and even trying to collect some of his own. He had tried to talk to the others, ask them it they thought it was a possibility, but no one seemed open to the idea. They all thought he was looking too much into it, that his grief was getting to him. Which was fine, Jason didn't care what they thought, only what he found.

The bottom line was, he couldn't accept it, not yet anyway. Not until he saw this through. Not until he found the end of the metaphorical thread. Which had led him to where he was now, balanced on the top of an insanely powerful satellite, rhythmically flipping through Red Robin's com-channels. Waiting.

All the while, the events of the previous day played through his mind.

A cold wind swept over the roof of the Belfry, chilling Jason to the bone. The sky was still dark and gray, sprinkling light flecks of snow now and again. Jason moved slowly and methodically across the space of the roof, eyes focused on the device in hand (courtesy of Biz).

In his peripheral vision, he could see the faint outline of Cassandra as she crouched on a neighboring rooftop, still as a gargoyle and silent as the night. If he were being perfectly honest, it freaked Jason the hell out, especially when she would vanish and reappear in a different spot.

However, creepiness aside, Jason couldn't bring himself to feel truly threatened by her presence. She was watching him, per request of Batwoman no doubt, but he knew her well enough to know she wasn't going to confront him or try to make him leave. Cass was good like that.

Jason's attention was torn from the silent figure in the shadows and back to the devise in hand. A single beep sounded and Jason quickly began sifting through the results. What he found made him freeze, his breath hitching for a moment. It wasn't definitive, he had to remind himself that, it wasn't hard evidence. But it was enough to warrant further investigation.

The ruffle of a cape whispered through the air behind him, and Jason went rigid for a moment, his senses going into high alert. His first thought was that it was the Bat, but he quickly realized it was a smaller, lighter, fun-sized Batman instead.

"What do you want, demon spawn," Jason spoke, not bothering to look up from the devise.

"I want to know why you have been lurking up here for the past three days," Damian demanded, his arms crossed in what was supposed to be a strict or intimidating pose.

The lack of height on his part really ruined the intended effect.

"Aren't you supposed to be off with your Super-Friend?" Jason inquired, deflecting the question.

"I was summoned here by father..."

"What poor virgin did he have to sacrifice to pull off that one..." Jason interrupted, unable to resist the opportunity.

Damian clenched his fists and let out a small growl, attempting to keep his composure. Jason smirked.

"In the wake of...Drake's death, father wanted the whole team, as well as the rest of us, to talk to a therapist in order to evaluate our emotional and psychological state," Damian explained, his tone clipped business-like. "I imagine he will want you to as well, Hood."

Jason made a cross between a snort and a laugh. "Good luck with that."

"I'll admit, it's not...ideal," Damian conceded, gritting his teeth.

Jason shot him a curious glance, taking a moment to read his expression. He looked tired.

"Well, gremlin, you have fun with that," Jason answered, slipping the devise in his pocket and collecting his crimson helmet. "I'm out of here."

There was silence for a beat as Jason made his way to the edge of the roof.

"I was told that you have latched onto the delusion that Drake might still be alive," Damian spoke up, his voice condescending. But Jason didn't miss the spark of hope his words carried.

"So?" Jason only shrugged, his voice echoing slightly in the open space. "Once upon a time, Tim had the same delusion about Bruce. He turned out to be right. And besides, you and I know better than anyone that Robins don't always stay dead."

"Tt. Batman already combed the entire area and found nothing," Damian scoffed. "What on earth would make you adopt such a theory?"

Jason paused and tilted his head to the side, taking a moment to study the young Robin. Something told him that he wanted it to be true just as much as Jason did. It was moments like these where he was acutely aware that Damian was a kid. Just a kid forced into a life where he had to be cold and ruthless, but that wasn't who he was deep down. Not really. Deep down, he was a little kid who had just lost his big brother.

"Alright, hell spawn," Jason began, setting his helmet back down and taking a few steps towards him. "Let's see if you can use that brain of your's. Look around, tell me what you see."

"All of the debris and evidence has been moved off-site already," Damian stated flatly, crossing his arms once again.

"Maybe, but there's still something here."

Damian only rolled his eyes, before turning his gaze to scan his surroundings. After a few moments, he paused, moving forward as if to get a better look. Jason watched the gears in his head turn as he pieced it all together.

"The scorch marks," Damian finally stated.

"Bingo," Jason chimed. "So tell me, kid, where's the shadow? An explosion powerful enough to destroy any remains would leave a nice human-shaped shadow. There isn't one, there isn't anything. I've looked. There's nothing here to suggest that there was ever a body," he reasoned.

Damian was silent and contemplative for a moment, allowing the words to soak in.

"There's any number of factors that could've come into play, that's not enough to prove anything," he concluded.

"No, but this is," Jason countered, producing the small device he had been using.

"Where did you get that?" Damian inquired, narrowing his eyes.

"My pocket," the former Robin deadpanned. "But that doesn't matter, what matters is what it does."

"Which is?"

"It detects trace amounts of exotic energy," Jason explained, "and there's quite a bit of it right where we're standing,"

"Energy that's consistent with a boom tube," he revealed.

Damian furrowed his brow in confusion. "Are you suggesting Red Robin opened a boom tube and escaped?"

"I don't know, I don't know if he even had the equipment for that," Jason admitted. "But somebody sure as hell did, so you do the math."

"We need to tell Batman immediately," Damian stated, his posture going ram-rod straight.

With that, he spun on his heel and began to march away.

"No, no. Not yet," Jason argued, catching him by the back of the cape. "This still isn't enough to prove that Tim's alive."

"Then what are we going to do?" Damian questioned irritably, tearing his cape from Jason's grasp.

"I'm gonna try and get something that is enough," Jason answered, grabbing his helmet and sliding it into place.

"I'm coming with you," Damian said with finality.

"No, you're not," Jason replied, with even more finality.

"I want to help!" Damian exclaimed, a twinge of something Jason couldn't quite read in his voice.

The vigilante considered it for a moment, drawing in an annoyed sigh. "Alright fine, you can help. I need something and you have a better chance of getting it then I do,"

"Do you have full access to the Bat-computer?" Jason questioned.

"Of course, and even if I didn't I could hack in," he answered. "I did pick up a few things over the years."

The words 'from Tim' echoed through the air, unspoken.

"What do you need?"

"I need every com-channel that Tim ever used, every frequency, every encrypted network. All of it," Jason revealed.

"Done."

The Red Hood nodded wordlessly, turning and preparing to take his leave.

"And Todd," Damian called, his voice somehow sounding smaller than it should've.

Jason stopped, partially turning back.

"Please find him."

"I'll do my best, kid. You have my word," he promised solemnly.

Damian gave a nod, a strange understanding passing between them.

"Remember, keep it on the down low," Jason reminded, walking backwards as he spoke.

"That goes for you too, Cassie," he called into the night, fully aware she had been listening the entire time.

The only reply he received was a simple incline of her head. It was enough.

Now, it was a matter of deduction. Jason still wondered if Tim had somehow done it himself. But even if he had, he wouldn't have waited so long to contact them. So either Tim did it, and it went wrong, or somebody else had done it and taken Tim. Neither was a good prognosis.

Jason adjusted his balance, the com receiver held firmly in hand. The sun was beginning to set, stretching long shadows across the metropolitan landscape. He knew what Tim would do, it was what any of them would do. He would try to make contact. Which was why Jason was currently atop one of the most powerful satellites in the world. It had been designed to listen to frequencies in distant galaxies, measure particles, ect. Some had even speculated it could pick up signals from

parallel universes.

Which was why Jason had picked this one to give him a signal boost. He didn't know where Tim was, and boom tubes have an awfully long range. It could be miles, or it could be lightyears, either way, Jason was going to cast his net as wide as possible.

So the Red Hood crouched there, and waited. Waited until the sun set and well after, waited until it came back around again, thawing the residual layer of hoarfrost that the night had left behind. By the time dawn came, he was tired and cold, and his legs felt like jelly. It wasn't pleasant, but it was a good endurance test.

But he was done, for now at least. He would try again, but first he needed at least a few hours of shut-eye.

Jason stood up for the first time in hours, his leg muscles stiff and burning. The Red Hood pulled out his grappling gun and aimed, preparing to clamp down on the trigger. That was when he heard it; a small crackle of static. Then there was a voice, clear as a bell.

For an instant, the world around him seemed to stop.

Jason tapped his foot impatiently on the metallic floor, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The Cave was quiet and empty that day, the only sound being Jason's movement and the occasional clicks of the bats.

It was mid-morning now, the air still cold and the cave as drafty as ever. Jason still wore most of his gear and his legs still burned from his late night activities. But it was worth it, a thousand times worth it.

The vigilante was brought back to reality by the soft tap of footsteps. Jason glanced to his left, his eyes falling on two familiar figures.

"Good morning, master Jason," Alfred greeted pleasantly, "I thought you might be interested in some tea," he added, gesturing to the tray in hand.

"Thanks, Alfred," Jason replied gratefully, taking one of the cups off the tray. The butler nodded, seeming content. Jason took a sip, the warm liquid thawing the residual chill that still clung to him.

Damian hung back a little as Alfred began to speak, his demeanor calm yet impatient. He wanted answers; Jason understood the feeling.

"I must admit, I haven't seen much of you lately. Tell me, how have you been?" he spoke, his tone taking a serious turn.

"I'm actually really good," Jason admitted, the faintest smile on his lips. "I'm better than good."

And it was true, he was good. He was worried, and a little edgy, but now he had something he didn't before. He had hope.

"I'm glad to hear it, Master Jason," Alfred answered quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Glad to hear it indeed." After that he gave him a small smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.

For the first time, it hit Jason just how weary the butler looked. He was grieving too, in his own way. Grieving for the loss of yet another son. It sent a pang through Jason's chest, Alfred didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this.

The former Robin drew in a deep breath, his hand gripped tightly on the object in his pocket, like it was a lifeline. (In some ways, it was.)

"I have something I need to tell you guys," Jason stated abruptly, his tone low and serious.

Damian's and Alfred's attention snapped to him in an instant.

"Look, I was gonna wait for the others..."

As of on cue, Jason was cut off by the loud roar of a vehicle pulling into the cave. Moments later, Dick got out, harboring both Stephanie and Cassandra with him.

Jason gave a nod of acknowledgement, standing up from where he had been seated.

"Where's Bruce?" Jason asked furrowing his brow.

"On a covert ops mission in Santa Prisca, he won't be back for a couple days," Dick informed. "What's going on, you said it was urgent," he added.

"It is," Jason replied, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and extract the com-receiver from his pocket. "It's about Tim."

Stephanie stiffened, an unreadable expression flickering across her features.

"Jason," Dick began, his voice somber, "I'm sorry, I don't want to accept it either, but Tim is..."

"No, you need to listen to me," he cut him off firmly. "I found something, alright. Things weren't adding up, so I went back to the Belfry."

"And what did you find?" Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest, an unsteadiness to her words.

"For starters, somebody opened a boom tube right where Tim was standing."

"Boom...tube," Cassandra echoed quietly, the pieces beginning to click together.

"Look, even if that were true, that still doesn't mean Tim's alive," Dick began to argue.

"The question isn't whether or not Tim's alive anymore," Jason stated, holding up the receiver for all to see.

After that he hit the button, and a recorded message began to play.

"Can anybody hear me? This is Red Robin putting out an all points bulletin. Does anybody read," Tim's voice filled the room.

Stephanie let out a soft gasp, tears forming in her eyes.

"I am alive and captured. I repeat I am alive and captured. Does anybody...what."

After that his voice cut off, drowned out by the never ending static. The expressions of those in the room ranged from relief to shock.

"The question is, who's gonna help me find him," Jason added with determination.