Footsteps pounded across tiled roofs, springing off of them and onto the next as he ran. He could hear Oracle talking to him through his comms, but his mind was only focused on the kid.

The kid.

It should have been a normal patrol. It should have just been him cracking some skulls of Gotham's bottom feeders, and tying them up for the cops to find them. It should have been him, avoiding the people that called themselves his family, that tested his dwindling patience.

But it wasn't.

Instead, it was news that a kid had been spotted. Common enough, in a city like this. There were a lot of kids running around past dark — kids' that's clothes hung off of them, with stick-thin limbs, and greasy hair. Kids that didn't have a place to go. But this supposed kid - this kid had the telltale sign of green eyes and a white tuft of hair that spelled trouble.

That spelled a trip into the treacherous magic Kool-aid that brought him back to life — the Lazarus Pits.

The thing that infected his mind and ran through his blood like a sickness that boiled through his veins, and made him seem green when everything got too much. The thing that warped itself into an insidious anger that consumed everything and healed his body.

And it was a freaking kid that carried the signs of taking a dip into it.

A kid who had most likely died, most likely been brought back to life by the League of Shadows. By Ra's Al Ghul."

It made his blood boil.

A kid — a freaking kid — could be suffering through the same things he had. Could have found themselves in the city, lost and confused and scared, and so, so angry at everything in the world.

He didn't know how the kid got here. He had thought the closest Lazarus Pit had been destroyed. He didn't know why Ra's Al Ghul brought this kid back. He didn't know if the kid had any memories of what happened to them, or who they were, but he needed to find them.

Needed to find them before the League did. Needed to find them before the kid could hurt others, or, potentially, even themselves