A/N. I'm back! So here comes another chapter, and I can be sure that none of you will expect who shows up in this chapter!

DISCLAIMER: DC Comics owns Batman, and for those of you tuning in from your homes, I am not DC Comics, nor do I look like a huge building.

The only thing Bruce found startlingly odd about how he woke us was the fact that he was upside down (-or maybe his life had caught up with him, because how could his life not have been turned upside down?-). He blinked a little to clear his fuzzy conscious, and when he did, he found that several people were talking. The first voice he recognized was Alfred's (-Alfred when his parents died, Alfred when Rachel died, Alfred when he got back from Tibet, Alfred when he woke up from being drugged, always Alfred…one day he wouldn't be there-), questioning the other person in the Tumbler with him. But who could he have possibly brought along? And then, he recognized the other voice-Gordon (-Gordon when his parents are bleeding like stuck pigs, Gordon when Rachel's remains are burning in the building. Gordon when the Joker is blowing up ferries, or had they blown up? Gordon when Harvey fell. Gordon when Joker stabbed him. Gordon when the Joker came. Gordon when it smiled. Gordon-). He shied away when he saw the Commissioner reach forward. (-Gordon always seemed to bring him bad luck, not unlike a black cat-). Bruce looked around, trying to see out of the pitch black of the windows before finding that he already had a vague memory of what happened (-a gunshot rang through the alley, and the Joker's dead… too much death…and then he's been stabbed and he's in the Tumbler, driving the tank. The car swerves and then…nothing. But he can remember the gunshot.-)

"Wha-What happened?" his voice was too scratchy for his liking, but maybe that helped the whole vague aura. He shook his head once more to try and get a few more cobwebs out of his head (-not all, because there were far too many, and sometimes, he didn't want to know what was behind them-). Gordon twisted around, wincing as the seatbelt rubbed against his already raw neck to look worriedly at Bruce.

"What do you remember?" he asked hesitantly, and Bruce shrugged (-because he knew everything. He knew what it felt like to hit rock bottom. He knew heartbreak. He knew terror. He knew rage. He knew everything-)

"We were fighting, and then you shot the Joker. And then we were driving. The car swerved and then…" he trailed off, and tried once again looking out the window.

"You probably passed out. We went over the edge and started falling. Landed upside down." Bruce nodded, glancing down at the seatbelt that activated whenever the car sensed an impending crash. Something black and velvety obscured his vision, and he started swatted at the material, ignoring Gordon's confused and worried look as he tried to figure out what was encasing him until…

"Oh," Gordon raised an eyebrow at the soft exclamation of understanding.

He'd been attacking his cape.

Whoa was he going.

Huffing in annoyance at himself, he reached up to unlock the seat belt. A loud thump echoed through the cabin as Bruce landed upside down on the roof of the tank.

Yeah, he was really going.

He rubbed his head as well as it could when it was protected by the cowl and glanced up at Gordon, who was looking really worried now. Slowly sitting up against the seat, he let out a breath and prodded his side, wondering what had happened to the gash in his side.

"Does anyone know we're here?" He supposed if he could form relative and coherent sentences then he didn't have a concussion. Gordon nodded.

"Alfred does, and he said he contacted someone to come help us." Bruce glanced around at the blinking radio and sighed before reaching over and pressing the 'talk' button.

"Alfred, who's coming?" he growled, and sat back to wait for the answer.

"Don't worry sir, help already knows who you are." Bruce frowned at the cryptic message. Looking around, he saw a crack spiraling across the front window in a half circle. If there was a crack in it, the window must have been hit hard. And now that it was weakened, it would be fairly simple to smash his way out (-the window that was smiling at him and he smashed it. Glass shattering, and the sound of rain pounding down on the floor. And now the car was smiling at him-). Shaking, Bruce started smashing away at the glass, not stopping even when his foot had cleared all the glass from the frame and was only hitting open air. A small laugh came from his throat. (-and he was still giggling, even though the psycho was dead. Why was he still haunted? He should be happy-) but was halted as soon as he realized what was happening. He was going crazy! Because he was alone. Alone and lost. Gordon placed a hand on his shoulder, and he shied away, flinching into the corner of the dark tank.

"Bruce, are you ok?" The vigilante looked up at the Commissioner and shook his head once.

"No. I'm not. Any more of this and I might just become jaded." (-wasn't he already?-). He sighed, and the pair fell silent before a large bard owl hooted, making both of them jump. The loud engine that announced itself three seconds later didn't help much either. Bruce yelped as he jumped backwards, only to bang his head on the floor, resulting in the cracking of one of his 'ears'. All of a sudden, the engine cut out, and they heard a door open. Without planning, both froze and started breathing softly. The car was black, so if a hostile was to come looking for them, they shouldn't be able to see or hear them (-not that that would ensure they weren't found. Fate would have decided it was funny to have a psycho murderer find them-). Bruce tensed as he heard the crackling sound of feet crushing dead branches, waiting with baited breath as they sound got louder before-

"Mister Wayne? Mister Wayne? Where are you?" Bruce's eyes widened in shock.

"Fox?" he breathed. The sound of a machine starting up accompanied the sound of chains clanking and soon enough, a shiny brown loafer at the bottom of a pair of slacks stepped in front of the smashed open window (-shattered glass on the snow mixed with streaks of red, streaks of red across scattered pearls-).

"Fox!" he said a bit louder, and the feet turned around, and Bruce heard a gasp come from his CEO.

"Mister Wayne! Are you ok?" The feet moved forward and crouched down before revealing the face of Luscious Fox(-expecting to run into much gunfire in these caves? More like explosives.-). The grey haired man smiled wryly before shaking his head.

"You sure have gotten into a squeeze, haven't you, Mister Wayne?" he asked, and Bruce nodded.

"Can you get us out?" he asked. Fox looked confused before a look of understanding dawned on his face .

"Ah yes, Commissioner Gordon's in there too, isn't he? Are you alright Commissioner?" Bruce watched the man struggle to look out the window, but give up after twisting seven different ways.

"I'm alright Mister Fox. Just a bit banged up is all." Fox nodded slightly, before backing up a few paces and glancing around.

"Alright, I'm barely here as it is, and the only way I got down here is because I took the new lift. You managed to crash the Tumbler in a steep ditch, and I doubt that you'll be able to climb out. So I've got a lift that can pull you up one at a time." Bruce glanced over at Gordon before gesturing for the man to climb out first (-because if he knew that his charge was safe, nothing else mattered-). They waited for Fox to life himself out before watching the small metal platform inch down. Pressing himself against the back of the seat, he watched Gordon scramble past him, squeezing through the small window.

"I'm on!" he said, and Bruce heard the cranking of heavy machinery. Curious as to how it worked, he ducked his head out and watched as a smallish crane pulled the small bit of platform up. It clicked a few times when it got to the top, and Fox grabbed the chain to hold it steady as the Commissioner stepped onto the higher ground.

"Alright Mister Wayne, you next." Bruce scooted back into the smashed Tumbler as he watched the metal plate come lower and lower until the chains stopped extending and rattled to a halt. He started forward a little but froze, blood boiling and heart hammering suddenly. His head was shaking of its own accord, twisting back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and-

"Mister Wayne, you need to get on." Bruce shuddered as he stared at the plate (-Bruce, for your own sake! Strike at Gotham…prove yourself worthy to lead these men…corrupted bureaucrats…ready to become…required of you…-).

"No…" he whispered.

Because the metal platform looked like the killing block he nearly used in Tibet.

A/N. well, did you like it? I thought I wasn't gonna be able to get internet because I'm at my grandparents, but I do have internet, so I wrote this up in celebration! Plz review!

Thx-

TOAS