Consciousness, comes painfully, still I fight for control. I am laying flat on my back, eyes trying to focus on the ceiling above. Waves of nausea hit me but I will myself to ignore it. Propping up on my elbows, I carefully make the attempt to rise. I last only seconds before my body gives out on me and I am once again lying with my back flat against the damp concrete flooring. My vision refuses to clear and takes second place in annoying me. Grand prize winner in that area would have to be the enormous ringing in my ears. I can't think, can't concentrate. I need to find a way out of here; hard to do when I can't even rise from the floor.

From somewhere off to the right and above, I hear a woman softly crying. Then a voice of a young male, filled with pain, is calling my name. Fear grips me as I try to focus on the voice in my head. Is it Dick? No. No, Dick is older, I remember now. The sound is so familiar that it jars me at an emotional level. I know this voice... Oh, God, I know this voice!

"Jase?" I whisper. His name feels strange and sad upon my lips. How long has it been since I said his name aloud? How long has it been since I allowed myself to think his name even in the privacy of my own thoughts? The crying continues, growing weaker. It has to be a trick, an illusion of some kind. Jason Todd is dead. A good soldier lost in my private little war. I know he's dead. I held his lifeless form to me, begging him not to leave. I was too late. I couldn't save the boy who had become family to me. I couldn't save him then and he's not here now. So why do I feel like weeping? Why do I feel like hoping for a miracle I know can never be?

"Who are you?" I force the question using my most intimidating voice. Well, the best I can muster at the present time that is. There is no answer, only soft weak sobs that tear at my heart and play on my mind. This isn't happening. I know it isn't happening. Whoever is behind this is going to be sorry they were ever born...

The crying continues. I try to turn my head to see what is happening but the pain stops me cold. A blinding light and then I feel as if I'm falling. How can I fall? I'm already on the floor. I try to remind myself of this fact but the feeling panics my senses, regardless of logic. I smell licorice so strong my nostrils flair. Licorice, Jason's candy of choice. How long had it been since I last remembered that?

"Jase? If you can hear me son, I'm sorry."

My words sound pitiful and lonely to my ears. Why did I say them? I know Jason isn't here. That realization stops the feeling of falling. Now there is no movement, no sound. I am once again alone, lying on my back, starring up at the ceiling. I shiver from the chill of the concrete floor. That has to be the reason I can't stop shaking. As I close my eyes, I see him before me. Fifteen again, with hair the color of the night and eyes that light up the room with a mischievous glint. Licorice hangs from his mouth and a smirk covers his face. I reach out to touch him but he is gone. Calling for him does me no good, but I do it anyway. Again and again, until the smell of licorice fades....

"Uh.." The sound of my own moaning startles me. How long? I wonder. I hit the heads up display in my cowl. Ten A.M. on the third. I've been out of it for nearly nine hours. The room looks the same, totally empty, barren, except for my presence. Whoever left me here doesn't see me as a threat. There are no chains or ropes binding me. The doorway even seems to be open. I groan as I remember the reason I haven't already left. My body won't work. Plain and simple, it refuses to obey my commands. Have I been drugged? I can't remember. I fight to hold onto fleeting memories. Basic stuff like who I am, gets harder and harder to remember. The damn crying hasn't stopped, irritated by this, I again try to move.

A blinding light and I'm suddenly spinning out of control, around and around in a twist of roaring wind. Debris batters my helpless body, assaulting me repeatedly. I open my mouth to scream. I can't hear my voice. I can't hear anything except the roaring wind as it tosses me about at its will. I reach for my utility belt. A well-placed grappling hook might just save my life. I am surprised when I feel no utility belt, or costume beneath my hand. I am dressed only as Bruce Wayne, helpless to defend myself. Spinning faster and faster the tornado continues toying with me. Through a cloud of dust, I see a young boy. I yell a warning to him but he doesn't hear me. The twister is growing stronger, roaring now like an enraged beast. The young boy continues on his way, jumping his bike over barriers he's made. The twister, with me inside, is getting closer. Just before it sweeps him up, I see his face. Oh God, I know that face!

"TIM!"

This can't be happening! Tim looks up at me, fear etched in his youthful face. He stretches out a hand and I reach for it with all the strength in me. Our fingers touch, but only for a moment. Then he is thrown to the ground and does not move again. Shocked by what I've seen, I barely notice that I can't breathe. The roaring gets louder, the pain in my throat and lungs grows excruciating. Until suddenly all is silent and still once more, silent except for the sound of my own coughing. In an instant, I realize I'm choking. Drowning in my own vomit, laying flat on my back. I can't move, even though it means the end for me. Then I see him, lying still on the ground beside me. Tim is on his side, with his back facing me. I have to get to him, have to save him. Somehow through the panic for Tim's well being, I forget that I myself am in danger. With a sudden burst of determination, to not lose yet another partner, yet another son, I jerk to the side, straining to grab him. As I brush his arm, he disappears beneath my fingers. Instantaneously, I realize I'm vomiting. I'm on my side now, unable to stop the steady flow. As the stomach spasms begin to dissipate, my frame folds itself into a fetal position. My naked body trembles as I begin to comprehend that I've let yet another partner down....

The color of sand fills my mind, warm, like sunshine in June. I uncurl my body and stretch. Before my eyes can open, my nostrils are filled with the seductive smell of a desert rose. It seems to fill me, entrance me. The scent grows stronger as I feel two delicate feminine hands kneading my flesh. The contented sigh that escapes my lips, surprises me. This beats the roller coaster ride of other emotions I've had, yet I'm disgusted with myself for letting my guard down. Still, I lie attentive, reluctant to open my eyes. Tender touches deliver me close to ecstasy. So close I hear her name on my lips.

"Talia."

Shock at hearing the name I summon opens my eyes. It's not Talia now, that's before me. A man with apathetic eyes glares down at me. His outstretched hand threatens to pull me into his unfeeling realm. I stand defiant until her touch again entrances me. Soft kisses on bare flesh promise tranquility within. In a moment, I'll be over the top, consumed in the mind-numbing glow only love can bring. I close my eyes, ready for that peace, no matter what the cost to my soul. As her name flows from my lips again and again, I open my eyes seeking her angelic face. Instead, what I envision is myself, wearing a green cloak with golden trim. Madness haunts my eyes, driving her from me. I do the only thing I can. I run and I hide, like a child....

"Brucie, it's okay baby. You can come out now."

The soft pleas of Martha Wayne are barely heard above my terrified cries. As the closet door opens, she reaches and takes my smaller hand in hers. As soon as I feel the gentle touch I know I'm safe and I spring all at once into her arms, knocking her backwards. She scoops me up close to her body, and starts rocking me forward and back. Humming softly, tears fall silently from her blue eyes. An unusual shade of blue, they match mine perfectly. I wonder, somewhere in the back of my mind, why she is crying. I've never seen her so sad before. My small hands reach out and touch the liquid crystal teardrops, willing them to stop.

From a distant place, the sound of insane laughter rings out, a gunshot, then a scream. The scream in my mind belongs to Dick, but it's only my voice that is heard. Blood falls like crimson teardrops. He reaches for me, I pull away, terrified. A pair of eyes as blue as the mid day sky are staring back at me. Filled with hurt and betrayal, they search my face for answers. Answers, I can't give. Dick seems to sense this and turns to leave. I call to him again and again. He doesn't turn around. As he fades from my view, I feel a rip in my heart that all but kills me. Moisture drips unencumbered down my face, as I realize I've just lost him all over again. This time I silently beg for darkness to envelope me for all eternity; anything is better than the pain. I look again to mama, seeking comfort in a world gone mad. I become aware, slowly at first, that mama isn't here. Isolated, I feel completely abandoned. I know now, that must be the reason she was crying....

Unable to take anymore, I resign myself to giving up. The fight has left my spirit. From an almost dream state, I remember the battle with Scarecrow. My stomach again grows queasy as I think back to the massive dose of gas I took in. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm weary of the fight. I pray for the darkness to take me, to make me it's own. The feeling the moment before death is a strange one. My heart rate slows as my breathing decelerates. I know it's over and somehow I don't care. I wish for nothing now, save the darkness of death. The peace it promises me. As my life force drains away, I hear the crying grow louder.

"Mama?"

I reach for her and become vaguely aware of two strong, loving arms holding me. Another illusion? The voice is gentle, careful not to upset me. Slowly it creeps into my consciousness, the identity of my savior. I have no idea how long he's been holding me, only that he is here now. He pulls back slightly and I panic. Whimpering and shivering, I struggle to hold onto him. A sting in my arm tells me he's administered the antidote to Scarecrow's poison. I don't care what I have lost before, or what I may lose in the future. I won't let go of him. I did once, a long time ago, for his sake I told myself. Now, I know that for my sake, I can't let go. Fear is what made me turn my back to him, now a greater fear grips my very essence. The fear of not having my son in my life is more than I can bear. I cling to him, begging him to never leave me. I wouldn't blame him if he walked away from this pathetic excuse of a man. Still, I see tenderness in his eyes as he looks at me. He has found something worthwhile in me, despite my weakness and fear. That is a talent he alone possesses. As he reaches for me, I feel his gentle touch and I know that I am safe. I spring all at once into his strong arms, knocking him backwards. He scoops me up close to his body, and starts rocking me forward and back. Humming softly, concern pours from his blue eyes. An unusual shade of blue, they match mine perfectly. From somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that I'm not alone anymore. I'll never really be alone again. I look up and see mama smiling. She knows it too. Her tears have stopped and that's enough for me. I rest my head on Dick's shoulder and sleep.