I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING DC OR WB. As always R&R!

Night had fallen by the time they reached the wooded parts on the edge of the city limit. She had seen a few cities that never slept and glowed at night. Now that everything was dead, abandoned or destroyed it was a few hundred dark buildings. Gotham was different. The city when absent of artificial light looked menacing and evil. She rolled down the window to get a breath of fresh evening air and noticed a slight smell of rain. There was a quiet lightning bolt that flashed in the sky. She really wanted to get off the road and into that castle more than ever.

The farther they drove thunder rolled and the road in front of them was more beaten and riddled with pot holes. She did her best to avoid them as much as possible. She flipped on the bright lights and stomped on the breaks; there was a wrought iron gate in front of them. She caught her breath, slipped her brown jacket and went to open the gate. No such luck, it was chained up. She got back in the car and for a moment patted herself on the back; there was no way the Prius was going to break those gates down when you rammed the vehicle into them.

The Silverado moseyed up the long drive to the dark silhouette of the castle, now getting much closer she took the place to be a mansion of gothic grandeur. The drive ended by the large front doors of the place and she brought the vehicle to a stop, popped the back, pulled the man out and threw his arm over her shoulder, half-dragging half-guiding him to the doors as a light rain began to fall. John was already at the door scratching at the rusty handle and wagging his tail. That was a good sign. She kicked the door open and entered the darkness slowly lowering the man down to the marble floor. She could feel him burning up despite his shaking. She peeled off his jacket and laid him down in his jeans and t-shirt hoping the floor would cool him down. John took off running into the shadows. It was only a few minutes later she heard his violent growling and a yelp.

She called into the darkness, "John! Come, boy!"

Out of nowhere she was knocked down a few feet away from the man and had her pinned by her elbows. It had to be human, she thought. There was a glint of a knife and a snarl from whoever or whatever wielded it. "Damian, stand down!" shouted a booming voice. The person on top turned still keeping her under his knees, "But this is an intruder father, and she had Todd!"

She didn't fight back. It was obvious that she was an intruder. Whoever lived here had every right, even though she wasn't a fan, of pulling a weapon on her. There was a plus side, she thought. They knew who the guy she had been lugging around was. There were a few more footsteps, lighter ones, but the source was still hidden in the shadows, even when whoever it was picked up this 'Todd' character and dragged him out of sight. There was another voice, "It really is Jason. He doesn't look too hot." This voice was lighter and less gritty and booming. She preferred it.

"Take him to his room, get him taken care of," said the booming deep voice.

The person on top of asked, "What about her?" He turned back to her and leaned close to her face letting her have a somewhat decent look. This was a kid, at least a young teenager. She used to beat twerps like this when she was twelve, but she couldn't get him off. A sign of the ripe age of twenty-two slowing her down. This kid had slightly tanned skin, ebony hair and eyes that could kill. She learned to respect her enemy, but this kid was really pushing it. The booming voice spoke from the shadows, "Just don't kill her."

She panicked slightly under him, trying to get free and run back to the Silverado, but he pressed on her pressure points and she blacked out.

Bruce pulled Damian off the woman's body and checked her for any form of lethal weapons. She had a small pistol and a knife on her. This put him on edge, and Jason's condition didn't help the situation at all. Damian ran back to retrieve hand cuffs and helped his father carry her light body up the stairs to one of the empty rooms, then promptly chained her foot to the fire place. They left her unconscious body there along with a little water for when she would awake.

Dick slowly carried his younger brother up to his room, stripped him down and threw the windows open to cool Jason down. Bruce entered the room and looked over his lost son with genuine concern. "It is the virus is it?" he asked.

Dick looked up his father, "Doesn't look like it, but I'm not sure."

Bruce brushed the sweaty strands of hair from his son's eyes. "What if it is?" Bruce's voice was somber at the thought.

They had seen so many die in the past. They lost Alfred, who was caught up in the chaos when grocery shopping and a patron was caught with symptoms. Barbara and Jim, Leslie, Stephanie, Cassandra, the whole League, all were lost or disappeared to their alien worlds. Tim couldn't handle the losses and put a pistol in his mouth some six months earlier. It was just the three of them until tonight, waiting their days out until their time came or they hoped for a miracle. Dick spoke up, "Bruce, if it was I don't think it could hurt, considering how we are merely existing at the moment."

He sighed, "I will go talk to her." Bruce was never a man who liked guns, but he knew they had a way to get what he wanted when he wasn't The Batman. He opened to drawer in the bedside table and took out Jason's old gun he had their when he was younger. It didn't need to shoot well, just for show. He left the room passing Damian who smiled at the sight of his father holding a deadly weapon, like a little assassin would.

She woke up without any trouble other than losing track of time. She didn't like what she woke up to. She was in a big empty room chained up to a cold fireplace with three feet of chain at her ankles. She remembered everything rather vividly and knew that whoever knew 'Todd' put her there. She fought the chain for only a moment but figured if she played her cards right she could be released so there was no need to waste the energy. The door opened and she sat up indian style. She saw the gun in his hand; Respect your enemy, she thought. The big guy came through and pulled a chair out from behind another door to an adjoining room. He sat in front of her, staring with piercing icy eyes to her warm dark brown pair. She intimidated by him.

He spoke first, "Where did you come from?"

It was silent while she tried to find her voice. Quietly she muttered, "Ohio. Just a little bit from Toledo."

He raised the gun up, not aiming at her but the gesture was implied. "Why are you not dead like the others?"

That was a loaded question. "I didn't get sick."

He still wasn't showing any sign of lowering the gun any time soon. "Why?"

"I don't know. When everything happened my father took me into his shelter. Got past the barricades around our complex and went into Michigan's thumb."

"Alright, where is your father? Are you a scout?"

She remembered the night her father left to find food in the woods and never came back. She presumed he was dead and moved on a few days later. It was not a good time. "I am assuming he is dead."

He lowered is gun and his face looked kinder and softer to her. "What is your name?"

She looked up at him and thought about how she wanted to answer this question. She was taught to never give her name or bother to learn others. It kind of worked the same when when a kid brings home a pet and their parents want to get rid of it; if you name it, you get attached to it, and when it is gone you are miserable. But she answered anyway. "Sarah. What is yours?"

"Bruce," he replied.

"Well, despite all of this, it is nice to meet you. Can you answer a question of mine now?"

"Yes, you may."

"Who is this Wayne guy or family? Did they used to live here? I mean someone rich enough to own Gotham when it was a booming metropolis would live in a big place like this, right? Or you a squatter?"

"The Wayne family still lives here," he responded solemnly. "At least what is left of it, especially tonight."

"So you know this Todd guy?"

"He was my son, my soldier. Jason Todd."

She didn't say anything for a minute. It was really odd for her to hear him say soldier like that. The fact that he also put his words in past tense also raised some red flags. He unchained her, but Sarah didn't run. She just asked a few more logical questions while they talked. He said he wanted to know everything about her, his reason was to make sure she wasn't a psychopath. She just wanted to know what happened to them, but Bruce would not answer. The pain at the thought of whatever was going through his mind showed in his face, subtle but enough for someone who could read people well would notice. "Where is my dog?" she asked.

"We had to lock him up."

"Alright where is he then? He wouldn't hurt anyone, at least no one who wouldn't hurt me or Jason."

"We just need to make sure-"

"Make sure of what?" Sarah was getting anxious and slightly pissed off.

"That he wasn't carrying anything, but it seems you are fine."

"Yeah, so let my dog go."

Bruce and Sarah walked out of the room and he lead her down the hallway to the west wing of the dilapidated mansion. He opened the door and there laying on the floor growling at Bruce. "Down boy, he is a good guy," Sarah said in a voice that Jenna Marbles, her favorite internet comedian, used on her dogs in her videos. She checked over her beloved dog for anything weird like tasers and whatnot and was happy they did nothing but water and feed the dog. Everything looked healthy and safe.

Bruce cleared his throat to get Sarah's attention, "I don't mean to interrupt, but we haven't left the estate since the outbreak. I am really concerned about Jason and maybe you could come with me to him to verify a few things."

"He is sick, but not that kind of sick."

He lead her wordlessly down a series of tall halls to a room that looked like it was a teenager's bedroom. There on the bed, in the gray night lights with the shadows of raindrops on a window pane, was Jason. There was another dark haired boy, looked a little like gypsy at the bedside with a cold compress. Bruce walked around her and grabbed her by the forearm. "I don't know what the virus looked like. We need details." His voice had a shade of frantic anxiety.

She sighed and walked towards Jason. "If he had the virus he would have had pussy bumps all over him." She gently pulled his closed eyelids open, "He would also be having cataract like eyes. He would also have been dead by now, actually starting to decompose if he was even exposed. The virus kills within a day of exposure by touch. This is just a persistent flu."

The younger man stopped what he was doing and inquired how she knew all this and lived to tell the tale. She responded with a small and powerful story. "I came across a town outside of Cleveland. A sick man crawled from the bushes and begged me to help him. He told me he and his family were also sick for the last twelve hours and that he needed help. He died shortly after."

Thanks to those who did review and add this to their whatever list. I will not disappoint you! However more reviews would be great. Tell your friends! R&R!