Bruce was irritated. Beyond irritated in fact. No, he was both furious and frustrated, concern and anger fighting a continuous battle within him ever since he had learned of Dick's possession. He had watched the footage from each attack, had tried to trace and track his youngest protégé to no avail, and that alone was infuriating. Left unable to do anything but watch as with each appearance it grew all the more clear that Dick's body was giving out, his naturally thin frame having grown dangerously gaunt, dark bags encircling the once happy blue eyes, Bruce was growing increasingly worried.

Especially as he watched the footage of the last attack, watched as the skeletal form of his son's body massacred thousands of people. If they managed to somehow find him and get rid of the demon, Dick was going to be traumatized.

No.

Not if.

When.

He had to stay positive. Even if all clues led to dead ends, Bruce still needed to have hope. There was no way he could give up on Dick, not until all hope was completely lost. And as long as there were still signs of Dick being in there, all hope was not lost.

Pressing play, Bruce re-watched the last part of the security camera footage, watched as the demon strangled a child and then passed control over to Dick, watched the tears streaming down his youngest's face, watched as he tried to bring the boy back to life, watched as he was unsuccessful, watched as he begged for the demon to stop, and, finally, watched as the demon took control again.

The video ended, and Bruce restarted it, eyes and ears absorbing as much as they possibly could from the grainy footage, searching for any kind of clue even though he knew all too well that none would be found.

In the three years of killings, no clues had ever been found.

"Bruce? You've been watching the same clip for nearly an hour." Tim murmured, placing a steaming mug of coffee on the desk as he looked over Bruce's shoulder, unable to stop the soft sound of horror that slipped from his lips. "Oh no... Dickie..."

"He's looking worse, Tim. I–" Bruce cut himself off, words heavy with emotion, sipping the coffee in an attempt to suppress the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. "I can't stop looking yet. He's running out of time. If... if we don't find him soon, there won't be anything left for us to save."

"I know that. I've been looking too. But you won't be of much use to him half dead from exhaustion. It's five in the morning and you've been awake for three days straight. Don't even pretend that you haven't, I checked the security cameras before coming down." Tim leaned around Bruce, powering down the computer. "Go to bed, Bruce. Dick would want you to sleep."

Bruce sighed, reluctantly extracting himself from his chair, his joints popping as he stood. "And what about you? Will you be sleeping?"

"Nah. I've gotten my hours in. I'll take over the search." Tim lifted his own mug of coffee, giving Bruce a reassuring smile as the older man headed up to bed. With a sigh of his own, Tim took Bruce's vacated seat and rebooted the computer.

He replayed the footage of the attack, eyes locked onto the screen, continuing the search for a clue that, deep down, he knew would never come.

Red eyes glowed faintly from the shadow cast by his hood, the clothing providing a useful cover as Crimson roamed the streets of his next feasting ground.

Not that it would really matter if anyone noticed his eyes.

They would all be dead soon.

It was nice, walking amongst the weak humans, observing what they did with their pitiful lives. Honestly, it just made Crimson want to kill them all just that much more. Disgusting humans, with their disgusting little families and disgusting little jobs. Pathetic, really.

But that was okay... they served a purpose, and that purpose was to provide food for hungry demons like him.

He watched from under the shadows of his hood as a mother comforted her crying child, two more clinging to the woman's legs like the little leeches that they truly were. Maybe he could kill the children slowly and make the mother watch? Yes, that could be nice. Or maybe he should kill the mother first and give the children a true reason to be crying.

Now that sounded like fun.

Crimson loved it when his victims cried. It was hilarious. Tears were such a stupid way of expressing emotion, although he also found emotions rather idiotic as well. In fact, Crimson thought most things humans did were rather simple and unrefined.

But that was okay.

Food did not need to be sophisticated.

It simply needed to be edible, and the humans in this city would definitely be edible.

Tongue flicking over his lips, Crimson continued to watch the family, their interactions distracting him enough to bump into someone, the hit hard enough to send him to the ground. He bit back a growl of annoyance as his gaze traveled up to meet the eyes of the man that had run into him. The food had touched him. Disgusting.

And, to make matters worse, the food looked like it had some serious issues. It was horrifying to look at, and Crimson could not help but scrunch his nose up in distaste. However, even as he did so, he felt a twinge of recognition from his host's mind. The boy knew this food.

Interesting.

"Are you okay, child? I'm so sorry... I should have been watching where I was going more carefully." The food held out a hand, as if trying to help Crimson back up. It was offensive.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Crimson questioned, tilting his head to the side to appear more innocent as he scrambled back up to his feet, ignoring the food's offered hand.

The food glanced down at himself before frowning. "This is my hero suit... I'm Superman." He stated, lips twisting into a frown as he looked at Crimson in confusion. "How do you not know who I am? You're in Metropolis... everyone knows Superman here."

Crimson could not help but laugh at the food's words. So, he was a hero, huh? That would explain his host's reaction. This was going to be so much fun. "That's got to be the lamest name ever... there's nothing super about that outfit. It looks like you fled some kind of awful dance thingy. Are you sure you're a hero?"

The hero food looked offended. Good. Crimson wanted to offend him.

"That's not very nice... aren't you a little too young to be wandering around on your own anyway? Where are your parents?"

Curse his host's tiny body.

Everyone always assumed he was young. Although, sometimes that did work in his favor, like this moment now.

The hero food was letting his guard down. Time to turn up the innocent kid act.

"I'm not a child. I'm old enough to do stuff on my own." Crimson poured the pout into his voice, tone sounding whiney and annoying even to his own ears. Internally, he cringed. "I've never seen a superhero before... can I see your powers?"

"If I show you my powers, will you tell me where your parents are? It's not safe for you to be out on the street like this. You could get hurt." The hero food looked adequately enthralled after his childish tone, eyes softening as he gazed down at the demon in child's form with actual concern.

Beneath the shadows of his hood, Crimson grinned.

It worked. This hero food really was quite dumb.

Maybe he at least tasted good?

He better taste good, otherwise Crimson was actually going to murder someone.

Oh wait. He would murder everyone anyway.

"Oh, yes. Please. Show me your power, Superman." Crimson's eyes flared a deeper shade of glowing red, the color shining through the blackness of his shadows.

The hero food appeared adequately startled. "Um... kid? Your eyes are glowing red. Are you okay?"

Crimson giggled, color leeching from their surroundings as shadows crept forward along the ground, circling the demon's feet and wrapping themselves around his legs and arms. "I'm perfect, actually. Just a bit hungry." He pushed back the hood, letting the shadows fade from his face, revealing the gaunt visage of Richard Grayson. Except of course, it no longer belonged Richard Grayson.

No, this was the face of Crimson now.

And the hero food took a step back, eyes going wide, a hand raising to cover his mouth which was hanging open in shock.

"D-Dick... it... it's you. You're..."

Crimson smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sorry, Dick Grayson can't come to the phone right now. Or ever again, really."

"You're the demon." The hero food spat, anger overtaking his shock. Good. Crimson wanted him to be angry. Crimson loved it when his food fought back. "You're killing him. You killed so many people..."

"Eh. They were going to die eventually. I just made sure that their deaths were useful. They were all quite the yummy snacks, I must admit. But you... you'll make for an even tastier meal."

The hero food growled, fists clenching. "You will leave Dick's body."

"No thanks. It's comfy in here."

"Do not make me hurt you."

"Awe~ You're cute, for food." Crimson cackled darkly, red eyes glowing brighter. Or maybe it was just the darkness growing around them, shadows swirling like a hungry pack of wolves, ready for blood. "You want the boy back? Come and take him. Bet you can't~"

Maniacal laughter echoed through the streets as he lunged at the super food, oooh.

Super food.

Crimson was definitely going to use that for the next hero that he killed.

Anyway; maniacal laughter echoed through the streets as he lunched at the super food, darkness enveloping them both, cradling Crimson like a fuzzy blanket even as it sliced into his food with a burning vengeance.

Tim stared at the screen like he had been doing for hours, eyes bloodshot and half closed with exhaustion. He had moved on to looking at older footage, trying to figure out how much time his brother could have. It was not looking good.

His head nodded slightly before he jerked it upright again, mumbling a soft curse. He needed more coffee.

Standing slowly so as not to risk a blackout, Tim picked up his mug and started toward the elevator.

He was mere seconds away from getting on when the alert sounded.

The mug dropped and shattered against the floor, but Tim could worry about that later.

That alert only meant one thing.

A Leaguer had come in contact with Dick.

He could save his baby brother.