The last few weeks had been trying at best. Dick really didn't know what to think of it, or if he even could make any sense of it. Both Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy had turned a new leaf. That was odd enough in it's own right and would definitely take some getting used to. Then there was the Joker being killed. He was killed by Harley of all people. He wasn't sure what to do. This was the apocalypse, there would be killing. Lots of it likely. Dick could barely get over the clown being shot to death and he deserved it after everything he'd done.
All the pain and suffering he'd caused. Joker had paralyzed Barbara. Killed Jason, put himself in a three week coma and tore him and Bruce apart. He deserved to die didn't he? Why did the guilt tear away at him as it did that night? He'd spent the last few nights getting drunk and trying to cope, it didn't help. It dulled the guilt for a while sure, but now it was all back to bite him in the ass.
Dick sighed as he rubbed a gloved hand across his face and stood from the Gargoyle he'd been crouched upon on the ledge of the Lawrence City Bank building. The moonlight caressed his features just slightly and the cool evening wind blew his bangs into his face partially covering his domino mask.
He was grateful that thus far the night had been rather uneventful and had just turned to go back toward the complex when he saw it. Out of the corner of his eyes a figure on a near by roof that caused him to pause dead in his tracks and disappear into the shadows near by to investigate further. Maybe it was that Wolverine guy again and he could get a better explanation of where the hell his head was at, that guy apparently liked to frequent rooftops.
Using the shadow cover and the invisibility techniques Bruce had taught him he moved ever slightly closer to the other caped figure.