Bruce places his mask on its holder inside the vault. He went back on his patrol after dropping Dick off at the mansion, letting the caring hands of Alfred and Leslie show his son the compassion and medical care he needs. Bruce closes his eyes briefly as he thought about the injuries Dick took on. Bruce knew of course that Dick’s had worse than the small burns he acquired before the Nightbird was submerged in the icy water. The burns were the least of Bruce’s worries.

Bruce emerged out of the vault and into the empty batcave. Barbara was up in Dick’s old room by his side while Alfred and Leslie took care of him. They’ve yet to update him on his condition beyond the small amount of first-degree burns he has on his left side. From what Alfred told him, the burns were minor and wouldn’t scar. All Bruce had to do to know his son’s current condition was go up the stairs and into the house and see.

Bruce strode over to the Batcave's computer, determined to pick up Oracle’s research before she went to Dick’s side. His eyes began to shift back and forth quickly as he read and absorbed the details written by the Justice league.

Dick Grayson’s room at the mansion…

Dick Grayson was shivering almost violently as he lay in his old bed; covers surrounded him in attempt to keep him warm. He was conscious but his eyes weren’t lucid at all. The young wheelchair bound redhead sitting by his bed looked at him with worry clear in her blue eyes.

Dick tried to shove the covers off him, but Barbara forced them back up.

“We need to keep you warm, Dick.” Barbara told him a bit forcefully.

“Don’t need them.” His words were slightly slurred.

Barbara sighed, “So damn stubborn.”

“Aren’t you all, Miss Barbara?” Alfred said with a warm smile from the doorway, a tray with two cups of tea sitting on it, steam rising from the cups.

Barbara couldn’t help but return his smile as he walked towards her.

“Are you implying something, Alfred?” Barbara replied with a mischievous glint in her eyes, accepting the offer of tea with a quiet “Thank you”.

“Oh why heavens no! I would never do such a thing.” Alfred said as he sat the tray down.

“How’s our patient?” The batfamily's butler and confidant inquired.

Barbara’s face lost its smile and she returned her eyes to Dick.

“The same.” She answered back.

Alfred placed a comforting hand on Babs’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“Master Dick will be just fine by morning, Miss Barbara. He is a tough one.”

“Tough or not I don’t like to see him like this.”

Alfred’s face grew grim. “Nor do I, Miss Barbara. Nor do I.”

Batcave…

Bruce Wayne continued to read the report and it’s details.

An ancient evil going by the name of “The First Evil.” Was attempting to raise an army of Turok-han, also known as the vampires that vampires fear. Buffy Anne Summers at the time one of only two Slayers had received a gift from Liam O’Conner, also known as Angelus before he received his soul, and known as Angel now with his soul. Note: He has now taken over the L.A. Branch of Wolfram and hart, the inter-dimensional demonic law firm, and maybe considered a threat. Buffy Anne Summers received the Puragtio de pressinus –

Bruce sat back as he read the words. ‘Purgatio de pessinus?’

“The Cleansing of evil?” Bruce Wayne whispered to himself, before sitting forward again to continue reading.

-An ancient holy weapon that channels the wearer’s soul into a beam of pure light, destroying everything and anything it considers evil in its path. The following day, Buffy Anne Summers led a small army of potential Slayers, Civilians, and one vampire, a Spike aka William the bloody who at the time also had a soul, directly into the Hellmouth to wage war with the army. During the battle Spike wore the Purgatio de Pressinus, and he began to channel his human soul. A beam of light erupted from his chest and annihilated the turok-han army. It went on to destroy the Hellmouth, although Spike himself had a chance to escape before the Hellmouth was destroyed, he decided to stay and finish it off completely. The crystal it’s self also destroyed Spike, presumably because of the vampire demon residing in his body.

- Superman

A picture of Spike from 1979 was seen attaching the page. He had torn jeans, and frosted bleach blond hair; his shirt was ripped and had several pins going through it. He wore a sneer on his face just as well as the duster around his shoulders.

Bruce sat back once again, “Hello Alfred.” He stated calmly.

We pull back to see Alfred has been standing right behind Bruce Wayne, staring at the picture. The tray that he carried upstairs was in his hand, the other cup of now not so steaming hot tea was on it.

“Good evening Master Bruce. I brought you some tea.” Alfred’s friendly British accent wafted through the batcave.

“Thank you, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice far away as he took the cup into his hands, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Is this the chap who pulled young Master Dick out of the lake?” Alfred asked.

“Yes.” Came Bruce’s short reply.

“Hmm I’ll have to remember to give him a hot cuppa if we ever meet.” Alfred thought out loud.

Bruce didn’t say anything to that, but only drank from his cup. He soon rose out of his chair.

“I’m going to retire for the evening, goodnight Alfred.” Bruce said without turning around and headed for the house.

“Are you going to stop by Master Dick’s room? He’s ill you know, Hypothermia. He’ll be better by morning of course it’s only a moderate case…but it would be good of you to be there.” Alfred attentively added the last part.

“No I don’t think so Alfred. He has Barbara by his side, and he’ll be fine.” With that Bruce continued on.

“Of course he’ll be fine, sir!” Alfred’s voice elevated slightly.

“But I must ask of you, Master Bruce. Do you think I would not have a hand in raising a good man?” Alfred continued on.

Bruce turned around and narrowed his eyes in suspicion at Alfred.

“I’d say that that you’d make sure they were good, even if they didn’t believe it to be true.” Bruce replied almost briskly, wondering what Alfred was getting at.

Alfred walked over to Bruce and laid a hand on his shoulder, “Then I say, where would a good man be when his son has taken ill.” Alfred squared his shoulders and looked Bruce right in the eyes.

Bruce was amazed at the fact that Alfred could still make him feel like the little boy who would take cookies out of the cookie jar when he thought Alfred wasn’t watching. Bruce soon came to realize that Alfred was always watching. He then thought of times when he was sick and Alfred was always there by his bedside, reading him stories going above the call and duty of Butler.

“He’d be with his son.” Came Bruce’s quiet reply.

“He would, wouldn’t he?” Alfred replied with a bit of a smile.

Bruce nodded to Alfred, “Goodnight Alfred.”

Alfred nodded back and watched Bruce disappear into the house.

“Goodnight, son.” Alfred quietly said and turned to clean the area up.

“Good Lord I taught them all better house keeping skills then this.” He reprehended them in his own company as he put things in order.

Master Dick’s old room…

Bruce entered the room, seeing his son shaking on the bed and Barbara lovingly tending to him. Her eyes shot up when he entered.

“I thought you’d be Tim or Cass.”

“They’ll be in later, their patrols are running a bit late. Run in with some bank robbers.” Bruce informed her.

Barbara nodded and returned her attention to Dick.

Bruce walked over to the other side of the bed and pulled up a chair.

Barbara looked over at him curiously.

“Do you want me to leave?” She asked.

Bruce shook his head and then formed one of his classic half smiles. “Even if I did, would you?”

Barbara smiled back, “No, I wouldn’t.”

Bruce just nodded and sat down in his chair, taking his seat by his son’s side.

A dark neighborhood in Gotham…

The neighborhood seemed dank and desolate, the streets and buildings covered in grime, some of the buildings were empty, deserted with boarded up doors and windows. Random bits of trash were strung out amongst the street; graffiti of random gangs were sprayed on everything, street signs, dumpsters and even a few of the parked cars.

Now a Gotham street was not the place to be at night alone, especially if you’re a pretty girl. Granted better to be in Gotham at night then Bludhaven, but being alone in one city of the damned was just bad as being alone in another.

Just like tonight as a lone woman was walking down a Gotham street, she’s about five foot four with long and wavy chestnut brown hair, a single purple streak beautifully blended in on the right side of her head. She wore tight hip hugger jeans and a black tank top, with a black leather purse hanging loosely from her hands.

Kelly Sanders was no stranger to the streets of Gotham, despite her aura of casual ignorance of her grimy surroundings, she was raised in Gotham her whole life and even owns a bar in Bludhaven of all places. She’s taken several self-defense classes only accenting what she’s learned on the streets and from her big brothers. So when a thug jumped out in front of her, she wasn’t too worried, it was the other four guys that worried her.

“Well aren’t you a cute little thing?” Thug number one said with a sneer.

Kelly took a defensive stance, “Wish I could say the same thing, although I’m sure “little thing” is accurate enough.” The other four thugs started laughing.

“Damn Ricky you going to let this slut talk about you like that?” Thug number 2 asked as he chuckled.

Thug number one (Ricky) growled and swung at Kelly, only to miss when she dodged it. She returned his punch with a swift kick to the groin and a small jab to his throat.

Ricky coughed and stumbled back holding his groin.

“Bitch.” He snarled as good as any demon. He looked up at his friends, “Grab her.”

Two of the thugs grabbed Kelly from behind and held her down, she instantly began to struggle but their grips were two strong.

“And it was just getting good.” Came a cockney accent from the shadows of the alleyway.

All the thugs and Kelly turned to where they thought the voice came from only to see nothing but darkness.

“Pitiful really.” The voice continued on around them seemingly to be everywhere and nowhere.

“No one like’s a challenge anymore, always going for the easy target. Ganging up on an unarmed girl. Pathetic.” The voice kept moving around them.

“Who are you? Show yourself!” Ricky yelled as he looked around the shadows.

“Cowards.” The voice continued on. “You never go after the easy target, you go after the one you might not beat. So when you do-”

Spike phases through the wall of an abandoned building and clobbers Ricky in the face, “-you know you accomplished something!”

The two thugs let go of Kelly and began charging towards Spike. Spike drops down as they speedily approach sweeping their legs out from beneath them. Both of the thugs fly into the brownstone steps of the nearby apartment complex.

Another thug comes running up behind Spike with a chain in his hand wilding swinging. Spike turns around and grabs the chain out of the thug’s hand, and then twists his arm behind him in an arm lock. He applies more pressure to the thugs arm, causing him to scream in protest and pain, while he wraps the chain around his knuckles. Spike then rears back and slams his chained wrapped fist into the thugs twisted elbow, causing it to snap. Spike let’s the thug drop to the ground screaming in pain as tears stream down his face.

The last thug starts running towards Spike yelling and screaming like a banshee as he raises a lead pipe in the air. He swings the pipe wildly at Spike, but Spike just grabs it and head butts the thug. With the pipe in his hand Spike steps back and spin kicks the thug in the face. The thug spins in a 360-degree circle spitting out two teeth and a stream of blood before landing on the ground unconscious.

Ricky the first thug rose from the ground, his hand cupping his already bruising face.

“Who are you!” He yelled at Spike.

Spike thought about it for a moment, unsure of how to answer.

Spike shrugged, “Hoping to find out, mate.” He said before spinning the lead pipe in his hand and bashing the thug in the head.

Spike just dropped the lead pipe and looked around. The thugs were laid out groaning as they held their broken bones. Spike smirked a satisfied smirk, before walking on down the grimy street.

Kelly shakily picked up her purse and looked around. She’s never been so close to something bad happening, oh she’s been robbed before and mugged, but she had a feeling that these thugs weren’t going to stop at that. But then this stranger with golden white hair, sharp cheek bones, and lively blue eyes came to her rescue.

Kelly nervously tucked her hair behind her ear as she watched the now silent figure walk away.

“Thank you.” She called out.

“Whatever.” Spike replied as he gave a little bit of a wave of his hand, as to indicate that he acknowledge her gratitude.

Kelly frowned in frustration at his attitude, but unwilling to let it go, the need to return a favor for a favor pushed her on.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Kelly asked.

Spike turned around and leered at her slightly with a raised eyebrow.

It took a couple seconds for her to get what his look was implying before she blushed and backtracked.

“I- I have a couch is all and you're in wet clothes, and you know I’m just trying to be polite, you perv.”

Spike smirked at her and shook his head, he looked around and the truth was, where was he going to go? He’s been back for two hours and that’s a little hard for him to believe, and ever since he’s been back it’s been non-stop fighting. A place to rest sounds great to him right about now.

“Sure, pet. I could use a place to stay for the night.”

Kelly smiled and nodded her head in the opposite direction he’s walking.

Spike walked over to her and they started off towards her apartment complex.

“So what’s your name, Mr. Hero man?”

Spike had to think about it; once again the question that’s been plaguing him tonight has come back in a different form. Was he Spike, William, or none of the above?

“It shouldn’t be that hard of a question really.” Kelly said amused.

Spike shook himself out of his line of thinking and stared at the young girl by his side. He then said the first thing that popped out his mind.

“Randy. My name’s Randy.”

“Kelly.” She replied and extended her hand.

Spike/Randy stared down at it for a moment, an indescribable look on his face. He slowly took the hand into his own and began to shake.

Kelly smiled at him, “Come on, Randy. Let’s go home.”

Tbc…