As soon as he’s certain Deathstroke is gone, Red Hood kneels, carefully lying Dante down as the drizzle thickens. Upon ripping off his mask and discarding it in the rainwater, he panics!

 

“FUCK! Dante, do I give you CPR?! God fucking damnit, what do I do?!”

 

Lightning cracks, cruelly confusing his eyes with the sight of Robin’s yellow cape shrouding his hooded friend in the flash. He frantically searches Dante’s coat pockets.

 

“No no no, God, Dante, where’s your phone?! Found it! This is a crapshoot but please work! Oh my God, it came on! Good good good, it’s gonna be okay, Dante, I’m calling for help! Shit shit shit-yes, it’s ringing! Oh God, please pick up-“

 

“Wayne Manor.”

 

“Alfred!”

 

“Master Todd? We’ve been searching for you for months!”

 

“Alfred, listen, I need your help! I need your help right now!”

 

“What’s wrong? Are you injured?”

 

“Not me, another Devil Hunter! I need a helicopter and access to the Batcave! I need medical supplies for a meta!”

 

“I’ll connect to Oracle and see if I can access our full inventory. Anything in particular I should be looking for? To where should I procure your preferred mode of transportation? Your current coordinates, I presume?”

 

“I don’t know! I don’t know, Alfred, I don’t know, something for a Nephilim!”

 

Flickering lightning. Rumbling thunder. Then another flash. His childhood cape damningly lays itself over his friend’s lifeless body yet again. Only this time, it’s torn, ratty, ruined.

 

GASP! “No no no, Alfred! Help me! Please!” 

 

A delayed CRACK blares again, right above him, the velocity is so piercing, so harsh.

 

“Of course, Jason! I’ll be there very soon!”

 

Before long a helicopter promptly arrives, piloted by Alfred himself. He assists Jason in getting their patient squared away on a stretcher and gets them in the air in a matter of minutes.

 

As they fly, Jason uses Batman’s handheld tech, a screening device, to run an anatomical scan. The read provides an x-ray of the seemingly nonexistent, shredded wings, which appear in the scanner’s holographic projection as a pattern of structural bones, brutally dislodged.

 

“Given my lack in experience,” says Alfred, whose viewed the scan for himself from behind, “and what is clearly very little time, Oracle is currently searching the Batcave along with our database for aid. She’ll be helping us, Master Todd.”

 

“This thing is saying he’s deceased! No, come on, Dante, Deathstroke said you might still be alive!”

 

When they arrive at the Batcave, they’re met by Barbara Gordon, who's located several, star-like fragments that glow violet with restorative warmth. Already wearing medical gloves and ready to go, she gets straight to it.

 

“Red Hood, I did some digging and found these fragments. They can heal demon hybrids. Would they do anything?”

 

“Barbara! This is good, this is good! These might work, Barbara!” 

 

They cut Dante’s shirt away and attempt to administer these odd gems that melt into his chest, where they’re absorbed and consumed. He opens his mouth. A strange fog begins to flow in and out of his airways, as though he’s trying to breathe himself awake with a Devil Trigger. Barbara presses her fingertips against his neck.

 

“He has a pulse! I think we need more of these!”

 

“I can go find more of those gem things or whatever the fuck they are! I’ve seen them come out of vermin-devils I’ve killed here in Gotham. Alfred, we can scan for demons around the city and snag the gems, and bring ‘em back here!”

 

“Very good, Master Todd. Back to the helicopter then?”

 

“Yes, let’s go!”

 

They head out, leaving Barbara to monitor the situation. Her first instinct is to search for more of these strange items in Batman’s inventory. For a few seconds, she wades through Oracle’s catalog, focusing intensely. Until she feels the hairs stand on the back of her neck. 

 

That feeling, that all children have, when they think something is under their bed, when they think something is in their closet. That feeling of phantom-eyes watching…

 

She freezes, unsure what to do.

 

“What happened to you?” a child’s voice asks her. A ghostly boy appears on the computer screen. 

 

“YAH!” she yelps, covering her face! It’d be a total jump scare, except that he asks her… 

 

“Why are you in a wheelchair?” 

 

This question feels quite innocent, he seems sad for her. She takes a deep breath and straightens her glasses.

 

“Okaaaaaay. Not sure what’s going on but hello there. Um, so, I’m in a wheelchair because someone very evil shot me in the spine.”

 

“Was it the Joker?” 

 

“That’s a lucky guess. Are you the man lying on the stretcher?”

 

“I think I’m dead.”

 

“No no, you’re not dead. You’re just um, having an out of body experience, I think. Can you go back inside yourself please?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Maybe I can help. Who did this to you?”

 

“Demons. What’s your name?” 

 

“My name is Barbara. What’s your name?”

 

“I don’t think it’s important anymore.”

 

“Of course it’s important. You’re a person. People are important.”

 

“Dante.”

 

“Jason is looking for more medicine for you, Dante. You’ll be okay. Where are you from?”

 

“Limbo City. Jason brought me here?”

 

“He did, yes.”

 

“This is Gotham, isn’t it.”

 

“Yes, this is Gotham.”

 

“Can’t stay awake…”

 

“No Dante, stick with me!”

 

The screen goes black. The lights go out for a split second then come back on. The fog is gone from his face. She hurries to him and searches for a pulse again but to no avail, even with a pulse ox.

 

“Ugh, no, come on!” She finds the anatomic scanner under the stretcher but bypasses it in favor of a stethoscope and listens to his chest. Nothing.

 

“I have to check everything!” She finds a penlight and adjusts his hood so she can prudently inspect his eyes. Though his irises are quite abnormal from that of a human, under the scrutiny of such a fine shine, she recognizes one thing for sure.

 

“You have Fear Toxin in your system. Oh jeez, I’m so sorry. Alright, show me everything.” She goes for the anatomic scanner, running another reading. It displays for her, his holographic anatomy.

 

“Wings? Gosh, they’re completely destroyed. Okay, what the heck are you really? Species identify.” The device spazzes out, struggling to find a match. Until it settles on… 

 

Species: Nephilim ERROR Invalid-Extinct. Alternative Match Found.

 

“Select Alternative Match.”

 

Species: Angel. Status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Impact.

 

“Impact. You died from a fall. Looks like it was really really painful. And with Fear Toxin in your system? Alright well… it’s over now.” She puts the scanner down and gently straightens his hood, then softly closes his mouth. Then she rests her elbows on the stretcher, holds her temples and lowers her head, sighing heavily. 

 

“You’re the one who cleaned house at Arkham Asylum. Oh man. I really don’t know how I’m gonna break this to Jason. It was bad enough before I knew who you were, what you were. What in the world am I going to say to him? I’m sorry but your angel is dead? This is gonna be rough. Please don’t let him hate me.”

 

The next few minutes are a blur of her contacting Jason and Alfred, urging them to return, them doing as they’re told, her stuttering through an account of what happened to Oracle, then a long… horrible… pause. 

 

Red Hood in the Batcave. It’s a surreal sight. His fists balled, his posture sturdy, his head turned away. It’s hard to tell if he’s angry, confused, indifferent? She reaches for him.

 

“Jason-“

 

He looks directly upward, first at nothing. Then, behind them, at the stalactites over a cliff at the end of the cave, where the bats dwell, a wave of tremendous sorrow rippling towards her. It’s clear that this may actually be, the worst thing that could have possibly happened. Alfred stands beside her, putting his hand on her shoulder. She speaks delicately.

 

“Jason, I swear to you, I felt a pulse. I swear to you, he spoke to me. He asked if he was in Gotham and then he was gone.”

 

He holds his chest as it begins to sting. He then starts pacing, pragmatism contradicting his distressful countenance. He embraces it desperately as he rattles off.

 

“Okay so, what do we do from here? We clean him up. Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna clean you up. And then, and then we’ll need to, I guess, build a coffin and, yeah. Yeah, we’ll need that.”

 

They watch him unravel. His words, practical. His voice, trembling. His breath, speeding up. 

 

“And um, maybe on the property, somewhere tucked away, I know Bruce has buried people at Wayne Manor before. We’ll need, I dunno, an excavator, some professional grave diggers? Yeah, because leveling a coffin is kinda tricky and, okay yeah. That’s what we’ll do. Yeah, okay, that’s what’s gonna happen next.”

 

He faces them, his eyes watering.

 

“Look, he’s not human. I’m not sending him to some morgue where he’ll get cut open by some curious coroner. Right? We’re not doing that. Definitely not, we’re definitely not doing that, I won’t allow it.”

 

He starts to shudder.

 

“Yeah. No. Yeah no. No, cause, we left Limbo City and this is Gotham and I’m in the Batcave. Right? Right?!”

 

Alfred approaches him gingerly.

 

“Jason. Yes, this is the Batcave. You’re in Gotham and this is the Batcave.”

 

He fights a sob.

 

“Don’t poke him, don’t prod him. We’re not defiling him!”

 

“Master Todd-"

 

“No, Alfred, no, help, I need your help. I need help! Somebody fucking help me!”

 

“We’re going to help you with everything right now, Master Todd.” 

 

Barbara notices that Dante’s veins have turned black, vascular webs like inverted lightning running along his pale face, down his neck and through his chest. Disturbed, she then looks back over at Alfred.

 

“Barbara? Alfred? Everything’s so loud! My head’s pounding and this flashing light’s assaulting my eyes!”

 

“Master Todd?”

 

“Joker! Batman? Robin? Blood dripping in the asylum, roaches running in the blood, Dante floating in water with so much chlorine, it’s burning my eyes! Whose with me? Whose alive? Whose dead? What day is it? What time is it? Is this Limbo? What’s going on?!”

 

“Oh dear, Master Todd.”

 

He escalates, hyperventilating.

 

“Oh my God, did he really die?! That can’t happen! That shit can’t happen!”

 

“Can I give you something to calm you down, Master Todd?”

 

He crumbles to his knees, his hands reaching for his holster, searching for Dante’s firearms.

 

“Yes, give me all the drugs! I want all the drugs! I’m freaking out! Alfred, I’m gonna pump my skull full of lead, Alfred!”

 

“I can inject something into your bloodstream to calm you down, give me just a moment.”

 

“Take these guns away from me before I stick one in my mouth! I’m not kidding, get them away from me!” 

 

He slides Ebony and Ivory away on the floor, Barbara goes to them and takes them across the Batcave, where Jason can’t see or reach them.

 

“Here, this will help,” says Alfred.

 

“Something’s biting my neck!” Jason grunts.

 

“I think it’s best for you to lie down, Master Todd. Just right here, alright? The floor will do.”

 

“I wanna be dead too! Alfred, I’m losing my shit! Help me, Alfred!”

 

“Close your eyes for a few minutes and let this kick in.”

 

"Did you give me something in a needle? Is that what that was? What’s happening?”

 

“This medicine may only take the slightest bit of the edge off, but right now, that’s what you need. Okay? Shhh, I’m so sorry, Master Todd.”

 

The Batcave becomes blurry, time warps, until Jason hears an instantly familiar voice.

 

“Oracle, search for a next of kin.”

 

Tinkering, then Barbara’s voice, “Two DNA matches found, both in Jump City. One of them is…”

 

A heavy sigh from that same familiar voice, “Oh no.” 

 

“Master Bruce?”

 

Barbara’s voice, now apprehensive, “Another Devil Hunter also named, Dante.”

 

Alfred’s voice, “Oh dear.”

 

“Alfred, Barbara, I’m going to have to take the body to him in the Batwing, but not in this condition.”

 

“No, absolutely not in this condition,” Alfred agrees. 

 

“We definitely can’t let him see him like this,” Barbara also agrees.

 

“He’s covered in blood, rainwater, and chlorine. His clothes are ruined. We’re going to have to remove them. We have to make him presentable.”

 

“Batman, Nightwing knows Jump City’s Devil Hunter,” says Barbara.

 

“That’s right,” says Batman, “Oracle, I need you to reach out to Nightwing and see if he can authorize a server connection. As much as I wish I didn’t have to do this, I’m going to have to show the Devil Hunter the anatomical scan. It’s the only form of evidence I have to explain how his son died, without exposing him to the way he looks right now.”

 

They hear Jason moan…

 

“Don’t put him in the Batwing, don’t take him to Jump City. I need him here, with me.”

 

“Alfred, the sedative, how much did you give him? Let me see? Hmm, this is only half a dose. I’m going to give him the rest.”

 

“Master Bruce, please, half a dose in the neck was already a risk. At least let me prepare an I.V. for him this time, since I’m the one who regretfully administered the first injection.”

 

Barbara reminds him, “Alfred, he was hysterical and suicidal, and he consented to it.”

 

“Oracle is right. You did good, Alfred. Jason shooting himself is an even bigger risk.”

 

“Poor Master Todd.” 

 

“Barbara, Alfred, this young hero needs our undivided attention. His clothing needs to be carefully removed. We’ll remove everything but his necklace. I’m certain it will mean something to his family.”

 

Jason is confused, “My clothing? Dante’s clothing? Oh God, Dante’s clothing? No… no, stop. That’s for me to do, not you! I’m gonna clean him up, not you! Not Batman!”

 

“Go to sleep, Jason.”

 

“No, Batman, don’t!”

 

Another prick in the neck.

 

“That’s enough, Red Hood.”

 

“Bruce, stop…”

 

Barbara’s voice, “Nightwing sent me a passcode. I can connect to the other Devil Hunter now.”

 

“Not yet, Oracle. He needs to be able to see that he’s gone. I’ve been in his shoes, he needs to see for himself, in person.”

 

“Understood,” she replies.

 

“What’s going on? Can’t open my eyes. Bats… Bats, please don’t do this to me! At least save me his uniform… don’t throw it away, I’m begging you.”

 

“I’ll see what I can salvage. We’ll wash him and then I’ll take him.”

 

“Wait,” Jason moans, lifting his head slightly to see Batman’s huge, black cape flowing about ten feet away. His back to Jason, he’s standing next to the stretcher, doing something to Dante. But now it's three Batmans floating in and out of each other and the stretcher is a white blur. Until Batman steps aside, giving Jason a good look at his friend, wrapped up in a white sheet.

 

“Please-”

 

He blacks out. 

 

When he awakes, everybody is gone. All he sees, is his reflection. Killer-Red on his knees, leaning over the sunken baptistery, gazing directly down at Jason, as though Red Hood’s drowned at the bottom of the basin.

 

The cement under the unmasked vigilante’s chin moistens as a terrible sadness drips down his face. His whole body aching, he turns onto his back and observes Killer-Red’s tears dying the water red. Like vermilion paint, the X smears down his cheek, into the tub.

 

“Killer-Red, is that you? Is that… me?”

 

“Are you coming back to the church or not?!”

 

Nothing.

 

“Answer me!” 

 

Still nothing.

 

“Where’s my friend?”

 

“Robin-“

 

“TELL ME!”

 

“Bats has him.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I’m in the Batcave.”

 

“That’s not where Robin is anymore. That’s not where I am anymore. I’m here. I’m waiting HERE! Like you told me to! You’re not gonna bring him home to me?” 

 

“I had to bring him here, I had to get him away from Vergil.”

 

“I wanna hold onto my friend. I wanna take care of him.”

 

“I know. I do too, little me.“

 

“No, my friend, I long for you. I’m here, waiting for you. Please, I care for you. I treasure you. I revere you. I cherish you. I want you to come home to me. I don’t wanna wake up and you’re gone! I don’t wanna wake up if you’re gone.”