It was a short climb down the stairs. Stopping at a door, Cassandra stared at its metal surface before she turned her head to look at the wall. There was a small panel, which she placed her hand on. Immediately, a dim blue light shined from the panel, moving from the bottom up. Then the panel lit up completely, a small green light flashed at the bottom.

The sound of a lock unlocking was made and the door slid to a side. Stepping through the doorway, the door slid shut behind the girl. A large room greeted her, one with metal floors and faded walls. It was one of many such places she had stayed at as she moved across the country. Glancing to her ride, she saw an ambulance parked to one side, next to a stainless steel door, one that rolled upward when opened. Due to the transmitter being removed, there was no worry anyone would trace it here.

A bright light lit up one part of the room, where a table was exposed. On it was Batman, a blanket covering his body, his naked face visible. It was here Cassandra walked to. She dropped her plastic grocery bag on the floor next to a computer terminal, reaching the table a moment later. Silently, the girl stared down at the dark-haired man.

It had been several weeks since she had last seen him awake. Ever since she had taken him away from Gotham, he had been unconscious. A doctor she had taken into service had said he was in a coma.

How she had gotten the doctor was...how you say...a long story. Well, perhaps it wasn't a long story. In fact, one could say it was criminal.

Abductions usually were.

The occasional doctor aside, other medical personnel had been recruited and used in the effort to heal Batman. A technician had been brought in to place some sort of long IV—the technician had called it a PICC line—into his arm, one that was currently infusing a bag of...what had they called it? TPN? Yes, a bag of thick fluid was hanging from a pole and was going through the PICC line, providing nutrition. A new bag was obtained daily from a local hospital. Never mind the bag wasn't made specifically for him, but the hospital could make more.

Cassandra sighed. She was certain that once Batman woke up, he would have some things to say to her about her actions. Crime was crime after all, and surely there would be consequences for that.

Still, it was worth it. She wanted his disapproval, his stern rebukes, his commanding presence, his...his…

She wanted her father back.

Unfortunately, there was no telling if that would happen. All the doctors she had assess him firmly stated he needed to be monitored in a hospital, but even then there was no telling if her father would wake up. Without that certainty, she refused to take him to such a place. The people that had hurt him would find out and come to finish the job. No way would she allow that to happen.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded off, causing Cassandra to jerk her head to the computer terminal. Over and over, a red light flashed from the panel, causing her to hurry over to it. Coming to stand in front of the terminal, she saw a screen turn on, revealing footage of the outside.

Someone was out there and he was trying to get in.

Frantically, Cassandra looked over to Batman, making a frightened sound. He was still hurt, unconscious, vulnerable.

Immediately, the young girl pulled off her hoodie, yanking it off to reveal her Batgirl armor. Tossing it aside, her pants followed suit and Cassandra stepped over to a little table next to the computer terminal. On it was her gauntlets and masks, which she quickly picked up and slid onto her head.

Next came her gauntlets, which she picked up one at a time and slid onto her hands. She was busy flexing the fingers of one glove when she heard a groaning sound. Snapping her head towards the sealed door, she stared at it, waiting, watching, wondering what threat laid beyond it.

The suspense was dreadful to bear.

Suddenly, the entrance to the room blasted open. The door went sailing through the air, smoke and flames following it until it slammed down onto the floor.

Readying herself, Batgirl stared at the jagged opening, waiting until the invader entered. A man soon emerged through the lingering smoke, large, bulky, and with long hair. His face was unshaven, though it matched with the combat fatigue pants he wore, along with the wife-beater shirt.

"You have run far, young one," the man grunted as he stomped into the room, each footfall bouncing off the metal walls. "But you cannot escape from Trogg."

The man's cold eyes then glanced over to Batman. Immediately, Batgirl moved in between them, making sure this Trogg's attention was fully on her. "You wish to protect your leader. I admire that. I would do the same thing myself.

"However, I will go through you if I must."

"Then you must," Batgirl spat back. "And you will fail."

It had been some time since she had last set foot in Wayne Tower, a few if not several years, but it had the feel of coming home to Andrea Beaumont. At the same time, it made her feel like she was trespassing. The history she held with the man who owned this building felt like a weight, the proverbial albatross around her neck.

The last time she had been in Gotham, she had felt as if she had begun to mend some of the hurt that had occurred all those years ago. Bruce was more willing to speak with her, but then she had to leave town, and quickly. At least that time, there were no promises made that were to be broken.

As much as she would like to...you know, pick back up, too much time for wounds to fester had taken place. She understood that. A person didn't just leave another's life, pop right back into it, then leave again, and then expect to have a fairy tale ending. That ship had sailed a long time ago.

But that didn't mean they couldn't talk with one another, right? Or be able to hold a simple conversation?

For the time being that would have to wait. Though this was Bruce's place of work, she was here for reasons other than hoping to catch up with someone she still held feelings for. No, business would have to come first, and if there was anything that Andrea was, it was professional.

As it turned out, she didn't need to go too far in Bruce's domain. The person she was seeking out found her first.

"As I live and breath, Ms. Beaumont! I wasn't expecting to see you," Lucius Fox, that man who arguably ran the tight ship that was Wayne Enterprises, greeted her, his voice jovial.

"Good morning, Lucius," she told the dark-skinned man. "I happened to be in town and noticed that there was a meeting scheduled with you. I decided to give Reeves a break and handle it myself. I hope that doesn't ruin today's boy's day in."

"Not at all, Ms. Beaumont, and allow me to say that it is a pleasant and welcome surprise," Lucius dismissed her faux concern. "Come, let's head back to our smoke-filled backroom and handle that Illuminati business that we're allegedly involved with."

"It sounds like someone has been trolling the message boards recently," she jested, heading towards the elevators with Fox accompanying her.

"Not myself, Luke, actually," Lucius replied. "He had a little fun with it this morning and I couldn't resist bringing a little of it with me this morning."

Andrea raised an eyebrow. "Luke?"

"My son, Ms. Beaumont. I would like to say he's a chip off the block, but he's more interested in engineering than business. I have to say, he has better tastes than his father in that regard." Coming to a stop in front of a close set of doors, Lucius reached out and pressed the up button.

"From what I heard, you yourself have an engineering background," the redhead commented back, lips curled up into a small smile.

"Indeed, but I wasn't smart enough to stick with it." Lucius gave a small chuckle. "That's not to say managing Wayne Enterprises hasn't been fulfilling in itself. At least, if you believe what the tabloids say."

"Speaking of which, is Bruce in? I was hoping to see if he had some free time today, unless that dungeon the message boards claim you keep him in when he's not in a monkey suit is also true," Andrea said.

"My apologies, but he's very...tardy today. Probably has a flat tire or something. It is quite a drive from Wayne Manor and some of those roads are isolated. Not every tow truck driver knows how to navigate them."

Something about that explanation seemed...off. She couldn't put her finger exactly on why that was. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it didn't seem like Lucius believed it himself—don't ask how she came to that conclusion. There were things only women's intuition could detect.

Still, she had to try really hard not to let even a little bit of disappointment slip out. "I see. Perhaps another time then."

"Naturally," Lucius agreed. Now her intuition was picking up a pause here. "Ms. Beaumont? If I may, once we're done with your business here, there's something I would like to speak with you about."

"Does it have to do with the other Illuminati dealings?" she jested.

"Something like that. Once we're in a more private setting, there is a...proposition I would like to go over with you," Lucius told her, dangling his proverbial bait in front o her.

"What...kind of proposition are you speaking of?" she asked warily as the elevator in front of them dinged and the doors slid open.

"Something to do with Bruce," Lucius told her frankly. "I know that once upon a time, the two of you were close. Maybe not as much now, but hopefully enough that you are...trustworthy." Without further elaboration, the taller man stepped into the metal container that would be their transport to a higher level in the building. Andrea followed after him, raising another eyebrow as Lucius immediately pressed the button to close the doors immediately.

"I would like to see myself as a trustworthy person, especially in regards to Bruce," Andrea answered frankly.

"I most certainly hope so, for Bruce's sake, Ms. Beaumont," Lucius said as the doors slid closed and blocked the two of them from sight.

Quincy Sharp leaned over his desk, hands against his head and fingers entwined with his thinning hair. His elbows were pressed onto the polished wooden surface, helping to keep his head propped up.

The last couple of months had been a disaster for Quincy; there was no other way to describe it. Long had he labored on transforming Arkham Asylum into a hybrid of mental health and judicial correctional facilities. That plan had come into fruition as he had expected.

What he had not expected was that the crazies in the asylum ward would stage a break-out. The old man expected it from the criminals—that was their nature. The crazies, on the other hand, were isolated and confined to a different part of the facility and seemed content with that.

Instead, they had broken loose and subsequently released the inmates as well. The halls of Arkham were only just finished being repaired, though some of the damage would require rebuilding whole structures, something that was definitely not in the budget. Make that the reduced budget. Hady had made sure to let him know he was displeased with his performance and whatever funds the City Council provided Arkham had been slashed. It wasn't a big drop considering they were still the only facility in Gotham that could house the animals infesting the city, but it was enough to get his attention.

The only saving grace of this sorry episode was that everyone thought the Joker had staged the break. That clown's reputation was such that no one could fault him for the madman breaking out. That perhaps was why the budget cut wasn't deeper, along with allowing Quincy to maintain his position as warden.

What no one knew was that it wasn't the Joker who had started the riot. One of the first things Quincy had done when he had been appointed to his position was to update the security facility-wide. Cameras were placed throughout the Asylum and the footage transmitted to a secure location on the property.

It was because of this system that Quincy discovered it was the insane shrink that had staged the breakout. He had watched in anger as the elderly man hobbled down the hallways of Arkham, pausing for some reason before heading right for the nearest security station. He had then unlocked all of the cells and announced over the speaker system that the Joker was attempting an escape.

For now, that footage was safely kept in his personal safe in his office. It would never see the light of day and once he left this place, he would have it destroyed. Because of the work crews and the asylum's employees on constant around-the-clock patrols, it would be difficult to sequester them out for their destruction. When operations resumed their normal processes, then he would see to their removal.

There was a knock at his door. Not even bothering to look up, Quincy called out, "Now is not a good time. Come back later." He was in no mood for company at the moment. In truthfulness, it was more likely his secretary would be giving him more upsetting news and he did not want to worry about that too. It could wait until the morning.

Glancing to the digital clock on his desk, Quincy frowned. If he was not mistaken, the secretary should be out to lunch right now. That would preclude all visitation until their return, so no one should have bothered him. Hearing another knock, he dropped his hands from his head and glared at the door. "I said go away," he barked.

Then, most bizarrely, he heard someone say, "Hoot, hoot."

That caused the elderly man to hesitate. That sound, it had come from behind him.

Suddenly, he felt something grab onto his hair and yank his head back, forcing his back to press up against his chair. Cool, sharp steel then press against his throat, causing Quincy to freeze. "Quincy Sharp," a deep, guttural voice spoke.

Quincy swallowed deeply, feeling his Adam's apple rubbing up against the edge of the knife. "N-now l-l-let's not g-get too h-hasty," he stammered out.

"Due to your incompetence, the filth of Gotham has been released. We are not pleased," the voice reprimanded him. "For this, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die."

Before he could react, the knife bit into his flesh and then slashed to a side. Blood sprayed from his throat as he cried out, gurgling over the blood filling his mouth. Quincy's hands shot up and pressed against his neck, trying to stop the bleeding, but then he began to gag as blood filled up his esophagus, choking him.

Slowly, his eyes began to close as he felt tired. He couldn't keep his hands up and they eventually dropped to hang on the outside of the chair's arms. Darkness soon claimed him as Quincy fell unconscious.

Batgirl's first worry was that her foe would go after Batman. In his condition, he was completely vulnerable to whatever cruel acts Trogg intended to do to him. So she began circling to aside, drawing the man's attention with her.

Trogg seemed to allow this as he turned to keep her in his light of sight. However, if she thought he was oblivious to his subterfuge, she was mistaken. "Do not think I will spare your master," he told her. "Once I am done with you, he is next."

"You will not touch him," she shot back, shifting into a defensive stance.

That seemed to be all the talk Trogg was willing to allow. Without hesitation, he charged at her, arms pumping at his sides. Batgirl edged backwards as she kept an eye on the arms, no doubt one of them would be drawn back at the last second. It was just a matter of figuring out which one.

As expected, Trogg began to pull an arm back as he closed in on her. However, instead of throwing a punch, he leapt into the air, raising a leg up and leading with it. His knee rammed into the girl's chest, knocking her backwards. Surprised and stunned, Batgirl went flying backwards, managing to land on her feet, though she skidded across the floor some distance before she stopped.

The moment Trogg landed back on the floor, he closed the distance between them quickly, throwing a fist right for her head. The dark-clad girl jerked her head backwards, narrowing dodging the punch as it flew in front of her face. However, the moment the man's elbow came into view, it suddenly bent and was shot forward, ramming into her face.

Batgirl cried out as she stumbled backwards, raising her hands up to her face. That's when Trogg's larger hand suddenly clamped down on one of her wrists and she felt her arm be jerked upwards. This caused her to be lifted right off the ground, dangling from the brute's grip.

Though dazed, Batgirl wasn't so far gone when she saw Trogg's other arm draw back before it came swinging towards her, heading right for her stomach. Moving her free hand, she managed to catch the fist with her smaller hand, though that didn't stop it from hitting her stomach. The back of her own hand collided with her abdomen, cushioning from the full force of Trogg's blow.

Gritting her teeth, Batgirl then yanked Trogg's hand to a side, pulling her confined arm down. Due to her foe resisting her pulling, this caused the girl to rise upwards—just as she intended. Swinging one of her legs up, she landed a kick to Trogg's chin, causing the man's head to snap backwards.

However, he didn't release his hold of her. With her extended leg, she brought it down on top of Trogg's shoulder, using it to brace herself as she raised up her other leg, bending it at the knee until the knee was by her chest. Batgirl then lashed out with it the moment she saw her opponent move his head forward, slamming the bottom of her foot against his face. Again, Trogg's head jerked backwards, Batgirl bringing her leg back before she stomped his face again.

There would be no third time, however. As Batgirl moved her leg back and then kicked it out again, Trogg suddenly shot his free hand up and caught her attack, his fingers wrapping around her ankle. Growling at her even as a trail of blood trickled from his nose, the brute began to spin around in a circle, which also spun the young girl too. Letting out a yell, he suddenly released her, sending the vigilante flying through the air.

Allowing herself to sail through the air, Batgirl pressed her legs together before she flung them upwards, leaning backwards as she went into a flip. The moment gravity began to pull down on her, she was in the downward swing of her flip, landing on the floor with her feet, facing her foe.

By then, Trogg was charging at her again. Quickly, Batgirl had a batarang in hand and sent it flying at her rushing foe. Seeing it coming at him, Trogg put the brakes on, skidding across the floor even as he leaned backwards as best he could. The batarang whirled right by his face, the man baring his teeth for a moment.

At first, Batgirl didn't think her shuriken had landed. However, she then noticed a red line begin to from on Trogg's cheek, starting just above the jawline and curing upward until it reached the far side of the eye. "You'll pay for that," he threatened her.

Batgirl raised her arms up, moving one leg forward as the other slid back, the costumed girl taking a defensive stance. "Like to see you try."

Trogg snarled before he lunged at her, throwing a punch at her head. Batgirl darted to side, moving inward as the man's arm sailed right over her shoulder. Immediately, she thrust her arm up, attempting to land a palm strike to his chin.

Only for Trogg's other hand to stop the attack in its tracks, grabbing only her wrist before her palm reached his chin. Using his momentum to his advantage, the brute shot a leg up, bending it at the knee. His knee rammed right into her stomach, causing her to bend over it as the air in her lungs was knocked out. With his extended arm, he raised it upward, bending it at the elbow, then swung it down. His elbow nailed her on the back of her head, causing stars to explode before her eyes, a cry of pain tearing out of her mouth.

Again, he maneuvered his raised arm until it was beneath her so that he could wrap his fingers around her throat. Letting go of her arm with his other hand, Trogg then let out a roar as he lifted the girl right off the ground. He took a step forward before he forced Batgirl down, kneeling down so that he could slam her back down on the ground.

Batgirl cried out once more as her legs stick up into the air above her. This, however, proved helpful as Trogg let go of her throat, moving to stand up. Though she was oxygen deprived and pain was running up and down her back, she immediately brought her legs down, tucking them in as her knees reached her chest. Without hesitating, she lashed out with her legs, slamming her feet against Trogg's chest. The kick pushed the man back, only a couple of steps, but it was enough.

Sucking in a deep breath, Batgirl again coiled her legs up to her body, using her momentum to go into a roll. She could feel the strain in her body as the floor moved up to her shoulders, then her neck and head. A moment later and her feet hit the ground, the vigilante whipping her head up as she stood crouched on the floor.

Only to see that Trogg had immediately closed the distance between them, launching a kick at her face—she knew this because she saw the sole of his boot flying right towards her. Jerking to a side, Trogg's foot sailed right be her head and over her shoulder.

In an instant, she shot both of her arms up, wrapping them around her foe's leg. Letting out a war cry, Batgirl sprang upward, causing Trogg to tilt backwards until he lost his balance. The man's eyes widened as he tipped over, falling to the floor and landing on his back.

Letting go of his leg, Batgirl backed up, putting some distance between them. Panting over and over, she sucked in as much air as she could, trying to recover. This man, he knew how to fight. It was not the refined style of Batman, or the assassins she had been trained with. She had referred to him as a brute and he fought very much like one. Unfortunately, that meant he had greater strength than her and with his skill level, he was very challenging.

Perhaps, too much of a challenge she feared.

If she had thought her ability to read people was returning to what they once were, Trogg was proving that wasn't so. He would feint as he moved, allowing him to strike where she least expected it. When she read punched, he kneed her. When she though he was going to trick her again, he played it straight and punched. Each successful hit weakened her, shaking her confidence.

Pushing himself up, Trogg grunted as he looked at her, climbing back onto his feet. "I had heard of your fighting prowess, girl," he told her, his posture shifting as he prepared to go on the offensive. "I find that they are highly overrated."

Then he began walking towards her, completely different from his previous charges. Batgirl edged backwards, keeping her hands raised in front of her, ready for anything.

At the last moment, Trogg lunged at her, leading with a raised knee. In response, the vigilante jumped up into the air, shooting a hand down to slap down on top of her foe's thigh. Pushing down on it, she raised herself higher while simultaneously throwing an uppercut, one she successfully landed against Trogg's chin. His head jerked up, but then he immediately tilted his head down the moment the both of them touched back on the ground.

Arms shooting up, he held his hands as fists before he swung them down, the bottom of his fists slamming down on Batgirl's shoulders. A cry tore from her lips as she flinched downward. The next thing she knew, Trogg has lunged at her again, this time with his arms held out widely at his sides. Swinging them inward, he wrapped them around her body, pinning her arms to her sides. With ease, he raised her up into the air and began squeezing.

Again, Batgirl cried out, the pressure she felt around her waist growing tighter and tighter. Her head jerked back as she looked up to the ceiling, her body squirm as she thrashed, trying in vain to free herself.

"It's over, girl," Trogg crowed. "Like my master before me, I will break you like he has done to yours."

The young vigilante whimpered as a jolt of pain ripped through her ribs and chest. She almost felt as if she were suffocating, each breath becoming harder to take. Steadily, her head began to tilt to a side, her eyes falling onto Batman. He still laid on the table, helpless just as she was. She could not help him, not anymore. She had failed in her duty as his daughter. She focused her attention on his face for one last time, soaking in his relaxed features, imaging them in their normally stern expressions. His hair was shellacked to his head much like it usually was after a long night of patrol.

His eyes cracked open as he looked back at her.

Batgirl froze. Was...was he…? He was looking at her, watching her.

He was finally awake.

A stab of pain raced through her body starting at her abdomen, causing her to return her attention to Trogg. This man, he could not have his way. Not now, not when her father had finally come back. She could not lose now.

She would not lose!

Instinct began to kick in, to continue her struggle, but Batgirl immediately clamped down on it. That was now how she had been trained. She needed to assess the situation in the blink of an eye. Currently she was being held off the floor, her legs dangling beneath her. Trogg's arms firmly held her arms at her sides, his biceps pressed just below her elbows. Due to the bear hug, he was entirely defenseless.

She knew what she needed to do.

"Release!" she shouted, instantly feeling her gauntlets loosen on her hands and forearms. Yanking her arms up, they slid out of their armor, revealing her bare hands to the cool air of the room. Before Trogg could even process what she had done, she shot her hands to his face, her fingers clamping down onto the side of his head as she dug her thumbs right into his eyes.

The result was instantaneous. Trogg screamed as he jerked his head back, but was unable to remove himself from her grasp. Batgirl could feel warm liquid against her thumbs, seeing red blood trickling down the contours of the brute's nose.

And then Trogg released her, his arms whipping away from her as the shot up to his face. Immediately, Batgirl dropped to the floor while she pulled her hands away, landing crouched on the ground. At her feet were her gauntlets, lying discarded. Grabbing one, she shoved her hand back into it, all the while watching as Trogg stumbled backwards several steps, his palms pressed against his eyes. He was screaming in pain, twisting his torso back and forth as if that would relieve the agony he felt.

By then, Batgirl had her last gauntlet back on, the girl standing to her full height and marching right towards him. Trogg had finally stopped his thrashing by the time she was right in front of him, moving his hands off his face as he glared at her through squinted eyes, tears of blood leaving multiple trails beneath his eyelids.

In an instant, Batgirl slammed a fist right into the man's face, nailing him right in the nose. She could feel cartilage snap beneath her knuckles, something she found satisfying. Trogg jerked back a step as his face cringed from his nose broken nose. Again, one of his hands found its way to cover his face.

Movement out of the corner of her told her to move. Backing up a step, Batgirl dodged Trogg's arm as he swiped at her with it, his hand open and looking more like the claws of an animal. However, he then closed his fingers inward, making a fist, which he then swung back as a backhand blow.

Batgirl ducked the clumsy attempt and found herself right in front of a wide-open Trogg. This time, she gave into instinct as she darted forward, her muscles recalling one of the first combinations they were taught.

Launching a fist, she slammed it into the man's solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him as he gasped. In an instant, her other hand shot up, fingers curled inward and palm prominent. Her palm collided with the underside of the brute's chin, causing his head to snap upward, revealing his vulnerable throat.

However, unlike the Talon strike she had been taught to rip open her opponent's throat, Batgirl pressed her fingers together, thumb curled into the palm. Quickly, she crossed her arm over her chest and then swung it out, delivering a chop to Trogg's exposed throat, gagging him as he let out a choked gasp.

Batman would've been proud of that blow.

Not finished, Batgirl drew back a leg and then swung it low and sideways, landing a kick to the inside of Trogg's knee. The hit caused his leg to buckle, the man stumbling to a side. Turning her body to one side, Batgirl held both of her fists up and away from her body before she spun back around. She landed a backhand blow to Trogg's face, which was quickly followed by a second punch to the side of his head.

Spinning around completely, cape billowing behind her, Batgirl soon was looking back at Trogg, seeing the dazed look on his face. He then dropped to his knees, wobbly holding himself up. Though her ability to read her foe was diminished, that had not taken away the knowledge of how to hit someone really hard.

And Trogg was feeling every hit she had landed.

"You know, I'm glad I am the one fighting you," she told him, causing the man to tilted his head as he looked at her dazed. "You are not worth his time."

And then she leaped up into the air, spinning once more. Extending a leg out, she lashed out with it as she performed a spinning kick, her foot slamming into Trogg's face and immediately sent him crashing down to the floor. By the time she landed, he was lying still, his eyes rolled up into his skull.

Batgirl stared down at him for a moment, long enough to make sure he was still breathing. Then she jerked her head towards Batman, all but rushing over to him. She skidded to a stop at his table, looking over him frantically.

Unfortunately, his eyes were closed, much to her dismay. Had they even been open earlier, when she had been in that brute's stranglehold? Had the lights in this place played tricks with her mind? Looking down at him, she couldn't help but notice that his head was tilted to a side; she was positive it had been facing upward at the start of her fight. It was right where it needed to be so that he could see her fight.

She closed her eyes then and let out a deep sigh. It did not matter, not really. The main threat to his welfare was no more. She could take solace in that.

That's when she felt it. Somewhere behind her, there was a presence. One moment it had not been there, the next it was. Had Trogg brought backup?

Batgirl's features hardened. It did not matter. If they thought they could do what Trogg could not, they would be sadly mistaken. Slowly, she retrieved a batarang from her belt, holding it in her hand as she mentally prepared herself.

She then spun around, coming to stand with her legs spread, one in front and the other in the back. She shot one hand out in front of her, palm pointed towards her new foe, holding her batarang up above and behind her head.

To Guest: Well, it's pretty obvious who was following Cassandra. I had a hint ready and everything too