I desperately apologize for the wait on this. I'm almost positive most of you thought I had given up on this. I had for a while, it was killing me. But now, I finally managed to update. I do hope that you enjoy it. Really really sorry for how long it took.

...

"The Subject is reacting well…the sisters are gravitating to him more every day. It won't be long until I can begin to place him in the suit and proceed to inject him with whatever I want. He won't have the ability to think of using it against me. He'll be too busy protecting the sisters, and what strange things he'll be protecting them from. Be that as it may…it won't be long, soon I can add the finishing touches, and I will finally be able to work on getting these mass produced. The profit they'll make and the knowledge I'll gain… I truly can't wait. But back to the Subject.

"He has taken to following them everywhere. He'll usher them from place to place, escort them to their little tunnels, destroy anything that gets in his way…it's really rather fascinating. You never truly realize how absolutely deadly he is until you watch him in action against those that won't let him get by with simply incapacitating them. He must truly kill or be killed, or rather, kill or let the sisters be killed so their ADAM can be harvested."

"Wait…so he…" Flash's answer was the slow nodding of heads, nothing but grief in their expressions.

"I don't believe he enjoys his current plight though, especially the slaughter he will sometimes cause. I've tracked him as he wanders aimlessly down the corridors, letting out cries that can only be described as heartbroken and absolutely disillusioned. It's quite troubling really…I have done my best to impress upon him the fact that they are no longer human. They lost that aspect of themselves a long time ago, they are now merely flesh and instinct, whatever it was that made them human gone. He still can't stand killing them though."

"Oh…Bats…"

"He wants nothing more than to protect the children in ways that doesn't mean he breaks his rule. Unfortunately for him…that rule can no more exist in Rapture than morality can.

"Morality here is useless, just as it has always been. The children are taken, used, and shall eventually be discarded. It almost breaks my heart that I cannot let them live past puberty, but the changes to their bodies wreaks havoc on the slug that they contain, and they will stop at nothing to kill anyone who gets in their way. Yet when has that ever stopped me? They said Rapture wasn't real, that I was mad, but I suppose I've proven them wrong.

"And they will pay for everything that they have done to me."

"I hate this guy. I really truly hate this guy. I want nothing more than to hunt him down and punch his face in, dead or not, how the hell can he do this to anyone? He kept talking about a profit, but he doesn't care about the money… He…he broke Batman, how the hell could he have broken Batman?"

"Unfortunately that is not quite correct, sir. Batman, as a symbol, cannot be broken. However, Bruce Wayne, as a man, can. It is Bruce Wayne that has been destroyed, sir, and Bruce Wayne that must be fixed. However…I am loath to admit that Bruce Wayne has not been whole since he was eight years old. The goal shall have to be to cut the scar to shape, to make it manageable. Hoping for anything more is foolish." Alfred spoke quietly, looking to the ground with his hands clasped in his lap. He was trying to convince himself as much as them it seemed, and the realization that this had to have been something he told himself often sent a rush of sympathy for him.

Superman rested a hand on the older man's shoulder gently, eyebrows pinching together in the slightest hint of apology. "He's honestly very lucky to have someone like you to look after him."

"I believe he would agree with you, sir."

"Do you ever get a break in that job?" Flash asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow.

"He gives me Father's Day off religiously."

It was such a simple honest statement without pause or care that they can't help but promise silently that they were going to give this man back his son. No matter what it took from them, they would fix Bruce Wayne, and in turn, give him back to his father.

…..

The doctors worked tirelessly to repair Bruce's body, his mask remaining on even as they removed the rest of his costume piece by piece. Now that he had woken up and was out of the danger zone they could begin work in earnest. They found that as cancer-like as the cells were, they found that they could be stopped and even removed. The drug they had produced worked as well as they could hope. The physical deformities were also worked on, slowly managing to heal almost every physical ailment they could.

That was when the other symptoms started. Withdrawal symptoms.

It took them a while to process the fact that the man in front of them that had beaten off more things than they could truly imagine was actually hooked on something. Trembling, shakes, delusions, the list of symptoms continued, and often lasted long into the night. He no longer slept unless he was sedated, and the constant use of drugs was something they were beginning to truly worry about.

They did not know how some of the drugs would react to his current condition and were often concerned that it would make things worse. So far it hadn't, but they figured it was only a matter of time. The team that had come to be a family always made sure to leave him with someone. He had nightmares when he was alone, nightmares that left him shaky and paranoid.

Wally would talk and joke and laugh and offer to get him something to eat. The speedster was a near constant presence, unable to really leave him alone unless his city was in danger or he himself needed to be dragged away to sleep.

Shayera didn't say much, didn't really feel like she needed to. She just sat beside his bed and read, sometimes discussing books she enjoyed with him. The knowledge that she liked to read was something that surprised a few members of the league. She had threatened them with physical violence. The surprise had vanished.

Diana would talk about Themyscira and her mother and sisters. Her experiences in 'man's world' were another popular topic, one that seemed to amuse the man that lay prone on the bed, even though he didn't reply.

John was another who used his time to do other things, but he would sometimes comment on a current mission. He would also talk about other planets he was taking care of. He never seemed to be particularly concerned and kept everything rather light.

Clark talked about life on the farm, told various stories about what it was like there. Some of the more creative ones made him laugh. There was almost always laughter when Clark and Wally were in the room, even though they found themselves laughing alone.

The fact that Bruce couldn't reply even if he wanted to due to the constant shakes and the listless thoughts didn't faze them much. They refused to let it. It wasn't long before they finally managed to fix the last of the physical blemishes and the period of withdrawal faded. The team entered the room once to see Batman without his mask, staring at the mirror that had been left for him after the doctor's left.

He was in serious need of a haircut and a shower, his eyes were still haunted and bleak and glimmering with suppressed memories, but he was whole. The handsome face that had captured women and men alike was back. There were no more blemishes, not even a scar.

The realization of that was one of the first things that surprised them. The second was the way he looked up at them; staring at the people he considered his family he gave a brief smirk. It was as close to a smile as he would ever get and the fact warmed their hearts. Not that some would ever tell him that…

"So…do you want to talk about it?"

In hindsight, they should have known the question would have set him off so badly. Yet they would have never expected the reaction. It was violent, sudden, and left them so surprised they backed up. One moment they were looking at a clean and tidy hospital ward that contained one occupant sitting on a bed, and the next various objects were hovering into the air and sent launching straight at them. On reflex they dodged, jumping through the door that was slammed shut behind them. They turned and stared through the window as the objects fell to the ground, Bruce grasped his head in his hands, and yelled out, "NO!" It was as much of an answer as it was a reaction to his loss of control.

It was the first taste they got of the new powers in his possession as well as the realization that he wasn't in complete control of them.

They consistently tried to get him to talk, one at a time, or in a group, always doing their level best to seem open and welcoming. He never seemed to buy it. Not even Alfred could get him to talk about it and they could see how much it was hurting him. It lasted a whole week, and that was when Diana finally exploded. She yelled at him for close to half an hour, only stopping when Bruce had backed himself against the headboard as far as he could go. They stared at each other, not blinking, not even seeming to breathe, and finally Diana stormed out with a huff.

The next day they came back they found him gone. The worry they felt was exponential as they hurriedly ran, flew, or phased through the Watchtower in search for him. It was J'onn that finally did, psychically calling to them to bring them to the training room. They honestly felt like they should have known.

Bruce was stationed there, doing his level best to get himself killed, or that was how they saw it. Hospitalization for close to a few weeks only to jump right into exercise was never a good idea. He was shirtless and sweaty and his muscles trembled as he forced himself to do another push up, reminding them immediately of what he had recently been through. He did another, and another, shaking and trembling and finally collapsing to the ground to lie in a puddle of sweat, panting and coughing.

Clark was the one to enter the room first, grabbing a water bottle and a towel and giving them to him, sitting down a fair distance away from him. He watched as Bruce slowly heaved himself upright, accepting both objects and using them as well as he was able with still trembling hands. His legs crossed and he looked at the ground focusing on the bottle that he rolled between them quietly.

"What do you want me to talk about?"

…

"It's finally time. He's hit the point where it won't matter what I dose him with, the thought of using it on me unless I near the sisters will never cross his mind. He no longer thinks of himself and his needs or wants, all that matters are the sisters. He apparently already struggled with such a thing before, I honestly wonder if he will need reminders to eat to keep him going…he does still need to, after all. The realization that the glass could be moved on those helmets at first truly worried me.

"Batman is as much of an enigma as ever, and I truly do not find it surprising that Gotham attracts all the psychotics. When they have someone like him to contest with all his many layers and facets, I can't find myself surprised that they love it. Most of them won't leave Gotham either. I wonder if he blames himself for them? I wonder what it would be like if he ever managed to escape…would he blame himself for not being there for Gotham? Even if he was simply trapped away without any hope of escape? This requires deeper thought, I believe.

"I had considered giving him the single goal of protecting a single child, bonding her to him, and him to her, but the possibility that he could injure another of the children was too great to ignore. They need protection anyway. He needs to be able to move from them freely. I am uncertain what would be the risks of that anyway… There are few Big Daddies still living, which is one of the reasons I created my own. Although, he's not truly mine anymore, is he? He's theirs. He belongs to them, not the other way around, and much like the dolls that they carry, he can easily become expendable."

The tape ended then, Superman not reaching for another, his head bowed and fingers interlaced. "This is the last one. The others are damaged. I'm uncertain if this is a loss or not."

"I just hope they don't give any clues on how to reverse the process." John sighed at the thought, rubbing his temples. The entirety of the group around the table looked at each other in silence, the idea worming its way into their brain without mercy.

"The thought had occurred to me, but I doubt it. He was too caught up in Rapture to think about the possible consequences and where he might lead." Superman finally dismissed the possibility and they found themselves relaxing.

"So…what do we do for him now?"

"Whatever we can and…hope for the best. He's Batman as well as Bruce Wayne after all, and I am certain of this much. Neither of them ever give up." For the first time in a long while, they found hope. They quietly promised that they wouldn't let the hope go.

….

Bruce spoke for the better part of an hour, eyes lowered and head bowed, his hands still rolling the water bottle between them. They listened with heavy hearts as he described the torture he had went through, from the unimaginable agony of having an instrument forced down his throat to the shocks he would receive should he not follow the sisters wherever they went. He spoke of what it was like at the bottom of the sea in a place that was beauty and decay all in one leaking package.

They listened and kept silent, realizing that if he were to stop he wouldn't be able to continue. When he raised his hand up and stared at it in quiet concentration they were beyond surprised when it finally froze over, from elbow to finger tips. He pointed it at the wall and froze it solid as the ice around his hand broke and lightning raced up it, dancing between his fingers and along his palm. Telekinesis, the ability to call up random spheres of different colors that seemed to ooze from his very skin and he listed as hacking, enrage, and hypnotize Big Daddies. The last one was said with a touch of irony coloring his voice. They found themselves jerking back as his skin boiled up and wasps crawled from one boil to another, in and out in a sickening dance that seemed to captivate him.

"I have powers beyond what I ever imagined and what I ever wanted. I don't know what to do with them now that I have them and in some ways I find myself scared of them. I don't trust them, even though it's my own body that calls them up, my own mind that controls them. I was injected again and again by things that tore through my DNA and rewired my very core. It hurt every time, temporary disorientation, blackouts. The first time it happened I actually vomited. The pain was so intense that I found myself unable to focus and collapsed, the strain on my throat made me cough until I thought I would be unable to breathe. I thought I would die there on the floor because I couldn't take the pain of something that was changing me into something I had never wanted.

"He was ecstatic. He laughed, he teased, and he would follow my every move and just stare at me. I'd call his behavior obsessive, however the Joker is obsessed with me. I know precisely how that feels, and I believe this was closer to infatuation. All I know is he made me feel dirty. I couldn't think past the little sisters and their safety, yet I knew that I wanted to stay away from him, to hide if I could. He always found me. He had two plasmids that I know of, one was a defensive one, created a decoy of himself, and the other was a hypnotize plasmid. He used that on me. Several times. Made me…" Bruce swallowed, fingers tightening on the empty water bottle and finally growled, launching himself upright and tossing the bottle to the far wall, sending it bouncing off.

"I can't stand it! I can still hear them, hear him, they won't leave me alone! Why won't they leave me alone? What did I do?" His hands went to his head, the violence of his movements shocking, J'onn immediately standing up to restrain him. Bruce practically sobbed, the violence translated into other things. Wally felt like crying, knew he was going to be sick. They stared at him, standing up, reaching out to touch and reassure. It was one of the only times they had been able to do so with someone who would rather be alone. They found it somewhere between terrifying and amazing.

"You didn't do a thing, it is fine, it is alright, and you are safe. You have friends, family. We care about you, Bruce, please. You will be fine." The soft words in the calm voice of Alfred Pennyworth seemed to relax him and he finally slumped to the ground on his knees, bowing over them, his fists pressed to his temples. "You will be fine, you will get through this, you will recover. You have always done so alone, and I understand your frustration at finding that you need help, but please, let us help you."

"What happened to the children?" Bruce finally asked, remaining still where he had dropped.

"We were unable to find them. We have a feeling that if we were to find them…" Superman admitted quietly, breaking off at the thought of what had been done to the children as well.

"I need to go down there again." Bruce looked up at them, eyes sparking with determination and decisiveness.

"What?" John's vocal protest was not the only one.

"You can't!"

"Bruce, please, think about this, if you're reacting like this now…"

"No, I must, you don't understand. I have the power to remove the slug without harming them, I can save them. I think I need to save them. They have families that are waiting for them desperately. Please, let me find them, I think it would help. I need to get rid of their voices. I think it's possible that the link is partially telepathic. I was able to feel when they were hurt or scared…"

The revelation made them look at each other and finally back to the broken man before them. A man who had gone through hell and was trying to claw his way back.

"Will you need the suit to attract them?"

"I don't smell right anymore."

The comment made them laugh, recognizing the statement as what it was, the necessity of laughter to the broken spirit before them.

"It's a damn good thing, too. I mean yeesh, what was that stench? Essence of rotten fish?"

"It's possible."

"Well it's a good thing you don't still stink like that. It was awful." Wally waved a hand in front of his nose, smiling wider than he had in ages.

"Thank you, Wally, I needed that."

The comment brought them back full circle and they looked at him quietly.

"Are you sure this is what you need to do?"

"Positive."

"Alright. Come on, we'll help you suit up. We would say wait until you're stronger, but you seem hell-bent on killing yourself as it is, a little walk at the bottom of the sea shouldn't be anything."

"Let me do it alone. Gather their parents. Please. I can do this."

"We believe you. You're Batman. You always do what's right and what needs to be done. We're willing to help you whenever you need it, and to listen if it comes down to it. Alright?" Clark's face was open and honest and Bruce stared at him, and then at them and finally began to laugh. They would have been worried at the sound if Alfred had not already assured them that his normal laugh sounded like something Satan and bequeathed him. It was deep, dark, and yet seemed completely genuine.

"I get it. I'm wanted and cared for. I never doubted it."

"Really?"

"It's hard to when you have seven idiots constantly harping about it." The comment was spoken with a smirk and a look in his eyes that spoke of true teasing. They accepted it as it was intended. They finally helped him get the suit on as they hovered over the area in the Javelin-7. A straight drop through the water would lead him to Rapture. They handed him the helmet carefully at last and he hesitated for a moment before he moved to put it on.

"You know…I have one request to make of you." Clark finally spoke quietly.

"Yes? What is it?" He froze with it over his mask, reinforced bat ears ready for the pressure.

"Next time…don't let near insanity and having your DNA written over to actually talk to us. I promise, we won't tell another soul about it, Bruce. You can trust us."

"Get their parents; Aquaman is ready to meet me?"

"Yes, with the means to get them back to the surface."

"Alright." With that final word the helmet was lowered and sealed, the pressure checked, and the oxygen tanks double checked. He gave them a final salute and stepped off the platform, sinking into the waiting water below.