Bruce Wayne had been in and out of a drug-induced coma for the last few days. He had been unable to form fully coherent thoughts. He kept having dreams and images of his father standing before him, berating him for his failure to save them.

"I…just…aboy…" Bruce muttered out as incoherent as a drunk, but the apparition of his father kept on

"Just a boy? Did your mother and I raise you like that, to hide be hind excuses?" the ghost of Thomas Wayne demanded

"No…" Bruce replied sounding like a hurt little boy.

"No what!"

"No…sir" Bruce answered one last time before he passed to witness the murder of his parents again, before his eyes.

This was how Bruce Wayne had been since his abduction. The images in his head over ruling his sound and disciplined judgment. His tormentors constantly watched him, attending to the wounds they afflicted and monitoring his drug levels. They wanted information from him but they were unable to make any sense of what he had been saying to the phantom that none of them could see.

"What's he saying now?" One tech asked

"Not sure, just keeps muttering about being sorry, being just a boy, or something like that." The other tech answered.

"What is the Master looking for any way?"

"If I knew that, we would have it already." This time the answer came from behind them, making them both jump. The tall thin scientist checked his notes and the readout from the electrodes attached to their prisoner's head. Then he left the room as quietly as he had entered.

"Man, I hate it when he does that, sneak' in around and scaring people." The first tech cried.

"Don't ya know; he gets off on that kind of crap. That's why the Master brought him in on this deal" the second tech answered.

"Well, what kind of information is some rich spoiled golden child going to have anyway?"

"Like the doc said, if we knew that, we'd have it already."

Nightwing pulled the batmobile into the cave and parked on the turntable. He climbed out of the supped up car and peeled his sweat soaked mask off of his battered face and limped his way to a couch by the ravine, and starred down in to oblivion. Alfred, having heard the alarm indicating that the batmobile had returned had arrived into the cave, via the staircase, brining with him some soup and sandwiches, knowing that the young crime fighter would be hungry. Upon seeing the young man, he placed the food down beside him and calmly retrieved the medical supplies. He ministered the former Boy Wonder's wounds, as he had been accustomed to treating the head of this awkward household over the years. As Alfred did this, no one spoke, with the exception of Dick's occasional groans and winces from pain and Alfred asking what exactly needed to be doctored. All this while Dick slowly ate the sandwiches before him. He wasn't hungry, but unlike Bruce, he knew when not to upset Alfred while he was working. So. Dick sat there and ate.

Robin had just finished relaying the details of Nightwing's fight with Killer Croc to Batgirl when they had pulled into the cave later that evening. They took over patrol when Dick was too beat up to go on. Dick Protested, but between the two of the, Tim and Cassie had been convincing. It was almost sunrise as Tim crawled into bed, Cassie slept in a guest room in the Manor, and Dick had passed out on the couch in the cave, well fed and bandaged up, thinking, "Bruce, send us a signal or something, we need you."

After the long night, Jason needed to clean and repair his costume. He hadn't needed to before, but he had been working a lot and the cotton costume just wasn't holding up. The real Batman had not been around in almost a month, but his apprentice had been doing a terrific job keeping up appearances. Jason's current problem was that he couldn't keep making these suits to keep in reserve. He needed a durable costume that would hold up under any circumstance and be wash and wear ready. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of this mess when he made the suit in the first place. The coat could be dry cleaned, but the jacket that he wore under the trench coat wasn't your ordinary single breast button up. It covered the front of his chest; the buttons came up the right side and across at a diagonal towards his neck. That would be a pain in the neck to keep up, plus the weather was bad in Gotham hot one day then freezing the next. He would need something that would regulate his body temperature at all temps. He could disapperate to avoid being shot, but to hold that kind of concentration for the weather not only would make him more ghost like and useless in a fight, but also might even hurt him. He just needed to find the right material and design. He had taken the name and costume from an old comic book character. But had changed the cape to a coat. Now, Jason felt he should probably change the rest of the costume to make it more wearer friendly. He thought for a moment that changing the look would hamper the image he was trying to build, but then he figured the coat, hat and goggles were what were getting him recognized anyway, besides all the gray smoke, so a change was in order. Jason had an idea what he wanted, but had no reasonable way of getting it. He decided to pay Mr. Martinez another visit, to see how the tracer was coming, and because he really had no one else to talk about this with. He felt that he could trust the old electronics wizard. Jason made up a few sketches of what he had in mind and then made his way across town, as the Gray Ghost.

Dick Grayson awoke in front of the under ground ravine, sore and somewhat rested. Tim and Cassie were running programs on the computer, still searching for a connection between Bruce and the Gray Ghost. Alfred had brought down a nice hot supper; breakfast having been about twelve hours ago. Dick watched his team; the thought of "his" team frightened him as though Bruce weren't coming back, with admiration. Night after night they fought the streets, day after day they got on with their lives. Dick got to his feet and stepped over to the living quarters in the cave, a small bathroom and locker room that they started using when Barb first joined the team, and everyone thought it only appropriate to respect her privacy. Besides, the idea of a nice hot shower with out having to go all the way up to the manor suited Bruce just fine, he seems to like the cave more than the house anyways, too many painful memories, Dick assumed. Dick had removed the rest of his costume and body armor, the bandages then pulled into the shower. After having bathed, he sat down in the hot tub, Alfred made sure the tub was always ready, since Bruce enjoyed the Japanese custom of bathing then relaxing in a hot bath. Plus, it was good for sore muscles, helped to put the crime fighters back on the streets. After his bathing, Dick pulled on a pair of black sweats and let Alfred redress his wounds while he went over the evenings' plan of attack with Tim and Cassie. He would brief Oracle later. After Alfred had made sure they all had eaten, the vigilantes suited up, broke off and started their patrols. Dick was slower on the start tonight, but he made it out to Crime Alley in his Bat suit, with the Nightwing change of clothes safely tucked away in the batmobile.

It was an unusually slow night. Dick didn't need to throw a single punch. Where ever he found trouble, the sight of Batman frightened off the troublemakers. This was good, because Dick didn't particularly feel up to going nine rounds with anybody at that moment. Alfred had relayed some messages from the Commissioner, but nothing on Bruce. The Batman had passed the old electronics shop on Belvedere with out seeing a non-descript motorcycle park in the alley.

The Gray Ghost had missed the bat shaped shadow from across the street when he parked. He had covered the bike and rang the bell at the back door, giving the old man the courtesy. Mr. Martinez confirmed who was in his alley, the Gray ghost having answered the challenge with the correct password. The Ghost was invited into the empty shop and was greeted by his new friend.

"I think I got that tracer just about figured out, then I can start rewiring it." The old man stated as he walked away. When he turned around, he saw that Ghost had removed his hat and goggles. Before him stood a young blonde haired man in his mid-twenties hardly older than his own nephew, Juan Ramirez: "My name is Jason" was what the young man/fearsome ghost had said. Mr. Martinez just looked at him then asked, "why are telling me this?" in genuine shock and a feeling deep down that reminded him of pride, pride of being given this gift of great responsibility.

"Because I have no one else to share this with, and I trust you." Was Jason's only reply.

"Well, I'm Efrain, but you can call me "E."" the two men shared a moment of silence as what had just transpired sank in. finally,

"What do we do now?" E asked finally

"I have some costume problems I need to figure out and I thought I could bounce some ideas off of you."

"Sure, but lets go down stairs, if people see lights on they might get suspicious. " with that the descended the stairs to the basement where E did a lot of his personal work. There was a computer that let him keep up on the latest trends and secrets of the trade and quite a few tools that allowed him to do a bit more that repair toasters. Jason was in awe as he looked around. E directed Jason to sit down at the table he had the bat tracer splayed open and he made a pot of coffee.

Over the next few hours the two men talked about how Jason got into this kind of work. He felt E deserved to know every thing if he was to know anything and help him with his mission. Jason told E of the normal child hood he'd had until the car crash put him into a coma, the crash in which the Batman saved his life for the first time. When he awoke three months later, he discovered that he could move things with his mind. His family had moved to Chicago so that he could receive specialized treatment to rehab his body. There he had perfected the trick of holding onto a hat in the windy city with out his hands. After a full recovery, Jason's family moved back to Gotham. Slowly over the next few years, Jason had learned to "jump" quite by accident. He had been camping with some friends his senior year of high school and had gone hiking. He had seen some other kids screwing around by a cliff and a young girl had slipped. Jason ran to her aid and reached down to the girl, hanging onto a root that was about to give way. She was just out his reach. The other kid, a seventeen-year-old boy, ran for help. Jason reached as far as he could, trying to use his mind, but most of all wising he could be closer, and poof. The next thing he knew, he was hanging onto the girl and they both began to fall. Holding onto her, he concentrated on the ledge above and they poofed again, this time to safety. They both were passed out by the time help arrived. The girl couldn't recall what happened and Jason feigned memory loss too, not sure what to make of this new gift. He spent a lot of his free time after that practicing the limits of his powers. Each time he "jumped" he felt the same effects of nausea, vertigo, and passing out. But with each "jump," the symptoms got easier until they stopped, then he began "jumping" over longer distances and to areas that he couldn't see. After about two years he was proficient enough to use his gifts in a way that felt safe to him. He knew he had a new purpose, but was unsure of what it was until he witnessed some punks attacking an old woman for her purse. Jason "jumped" to the attackers and "jumped" again, this time taking the hoods with him and leaving them on the ground. He called for the police and an ambulance and waited with the old woman who hadn't seen a thing. Jason decided in that moment that Batman or the police couldn't be everywhere at once and that he should help them in their efforts. So that's what he did, for a couple of weeks, anyways. Jason had made a costume that was nothing more than black sweats, tennis shoes, gloves, and an old black bandana mask, like Zorro's. And he took to the streets. He felt like he was doing well until he crossed paths with Twoface. He had followed Twoface to his hide out when he surprised with a tear gas attack. Jason hadn't discovered his ability to disapperate yet, so he fell victim to the gas. He couldn't concentrate to "jump" out either. Twoface had his gun to Jason's head and flipped his coin.

"Bad side up, to bad for you" in his grating voice. Jason was saying good-bye to his family when the Batman crashed through a skylight. Twoface began shooting towards the ceiling, but Batman had already disarmed him and had him tied in a bolo before the pistol hit the ground. The Batman had unmasked Jason and had made it absolutely clear that he didn't want any amateurs in his city. He took Jason's name and drove him home in the batmobile. Jason had promised to give up the nightlife in gratitude for the Batman saving his life, twice now. But he always felt empty about that decision.

Not long after that, he had won a scholarship from the Wayne Foundation and found himself face to face with Bruce Wayne. He had been invited to brunch at Wayne Manor, a custom of Mr. Wayne's. He likes to get to know the scholarship winners personally, according to Mr. Pennyworth, Mr. Wayne's butler. Mr. Wayne had insisted that Jason call him Bruce. After getting to know him, Bruce had given Jason the scholarship check and inquired about Jason's future plans. Jason spoke briefly of his desire to travel and see new cultures. Then Bruce had suggested Japan. He had studied there and had enjoyed it immensely. By the end of the meeting, Bruce had made phone calls that had Jason in Japan and studying with not only a great staff of teachers, but also a martial arts master. Bruce felt you could truly enjoy the culture without studying the all aspects of it. And for four years, Jason studied what he could learn. His master, Master Ke, had discovered Jason's Talents and trained him to control them better than he could possibly believe through meditation and concentration. That was when he learned to disapperate. Upon returning to the states, Jason set up home in Gotham, were he continued to practice his masters' teachings. Then word of Bruce Wayne's kidnapping, and the disappearance of Batman, Jason had decided to break his promise to Batman and began to train his body and gifts rigorously. He had decided on the name and costume from an old comic book he saw in his parents' attic. After that, it was all pretty much history that E already knew or assumed.

After his long story, E and Jason went up to the apartment, where E made some sandwiches, and they began discussing the Jason's ideas for a new costume. E suggested brining in his nephew, Juan, who worked for WayneTech and who might have some ideas. Jason agreed but decided not to reveal what he had to Juan, at least until he got to know him, E understood and called his nephew.

Juan met them in the shops basement half an hour later. There he saw the Gray Ghost for the first time. He agreed to help with the Ghost's needs because E was his only family after the death of his parents. E had raised him, like his own child. Juan was grateful to this masked man for saving his Tio E. The Ghost described what he wanted and the young scientist knew exactly what would work.

"We have a prototype body suit we've been designing for the military. It regulates the body temp to a comfortable 98.6 degrees regardless of the outside environment. It is a new polymer; similar to a neoprene wetsuit scuba divers wear. Therefore it would be safe in any washing machine. The suit also had gloves and boots that accompany it. With the tests we've done on it, it should hold up perfectly for your needs." Juan finished.

"But how would I get it, I don't want you getting into any trouble, and stealing it would be wrong. I'm supposed to fight crime, not commit it." The Ghost lamented.

"The suits are made by scanning a body type and the suit is synthesized by the computers, we make them regularly for testing the polymer formula. It would be nothing to get in the lab at night, scan your body and build a suit for you. I can always right the paperwork up as a flawed test suit that was melted back down. No way to track it."

"Sounds alright, but is it ethical?" the Ghost asked

"Nothing could be more ethical than protecting the innocent," E answered

"You need support in your fight" Juan interjected, "and we want help" With that, it was decided. Juan set up a time for the Gray Ghost to appear in his lab where they would build this new suit.

Superman had used his X-ray vision to check almost every possible location in Gotham that Bruce Wayne could have been, but that was hours after his abduction, plenty of time for the kidnappers to get him out of the city. It had been almost a month now. He could be anywhere in the world. So Clark checked with his sources by day, and searched the world over by night. He had directed the Justice Leagues of America and Europe to break up the planet into sectors and search each on methodically, yet rapidly. They were running out of places to check. Not everyone in the leagues knew Bruce Wayne was the Batman, and since Nightwing was filling, in they weren't any the wiser, but they knew Wayne was an important man, not because he was rich, but because he used his wealth to help people, and if he was gone permanently, than the people would have no one that could protect them from the economic hardships that people like Lex Luthor would put them through. It was Bruce Wayne's riches and good will that has saved Gotham time and time again after disasters too numerous to count. Times when men like Luthor would just move in and buy the whole lot for pennies on the dollar. Yes, Wayne was needed, as much, if not more than those who served with him on in the League, Anybody could fight off an interplanetary invasion it seemed, but it was people like Wayne who picked up the pieces and made it worth while. That was what Superman was thinking as he flew over Turkey at three in the morning.

"Mr. Wayne, I see you're awake" the tall lean doctor exclaimed. Bruce was still groggy, but could make out Dr. Jonathan Crane, aka the Scarecrow. What was happening to him?

"Well, well, well…. Your mind and will is stronger than I thought. There's only one person I would have expected to put up this kind of fight to my…own special way of interrogation. Very interesting. I should follow this up later, new theories and all." With that, Dr. Crane left the worn out billionaire in the cold dark room to resume his "treatments" with the assistants on hand. Bruce tried to struggle, but the drugs in his system had him down, pretty much for the count.

Bruce woke again from his nightmares, alone in the cell, sweating and exhausted from his ordeals. Bruce was trying to get his head clear. His reason told him that the dreams weren't real, that the images of his parents were just the effects of the Scarecrow's drugs, but he still felt the shame and fear they were intended to inspire. He had to figure out were he was and how to get out. But most of all, he needed to find out who got him here to begin with. Crane was good with his chemicals, but there was no way he could have pulled this off by himself. He was a puppet and some one else, someone more dangerous, was pulling the strings. Bruce felt he might have been coming accustomed to the drugs, building up a tolerance. He decided he needed to play out there plans, keep them from changing the doses and sending Bruce back into the nightmares.

Bruce took a quick survey of his surroundings. Dark and small, monitors and leads everywhere, connected to him. He was restrained to the bed, preventing him from seeing much else. He needed to build up his strength. He sat there and focused on rest and the meditation techniques he had learned many years earlier. When he found himself centered, he tested the tension of his restraints. A little bit of give, he reached with his leg towards the monitor in front of his bed. He could just barley reach. He saved this information and checked around for anything else he may need to know. He had studied the art of escape, but hadn't been this limited before. That's when he saw it. Towards his left leg was the wall; he felt that he was wearing socks. No big deal. He reached with his foot, but it was out of reach. No use, he made a mental note of the object and waited for the opportunity to make his next move.

"He is very persistent," a dark figure said as he watched the image of Bruce Wayne in the monitor. Dr. Crane was standing across from the desk. "I shall adjust his medications immediately and have the room stripped." The doctor stated.

" No, I would like to see what he is capable of. Continue on track and make note of any new developments. Maybe it is time for a new strategy " the Master had countered. Crane didn't like this new course. His obsession was his research. He didn't care about any information some rich snob may have, he just wanted to test the boundaries of his sanity. Hell, they were probably just going for bank account numbers anyways, it would be easier just to rob the bank. But, Crane obeyed the new orders, secretly he decided he would do as he saw fit. There were other ways to continue his research with out the complications the Master had imposed.

Juan had stayed late to check some numbers on the latest batch of chemicals used to create the suits, at least that is what he told the late night watchman. In fact, he was starting up the bio scanners for the suit he intended to make for the Gray Ghost. Juan checked and re checked the calibrations, and he was starting to get nervous. It was getting late and he could only put off the watchman so long before questions were asked. "Come on…." Juan muttered to himself as he looked at his watch for the umpteenth time.

The Gray Ghost found himself at that moment face to face with the Penguin. The little birdman was unimpressed with the appearance of the Gray Ghost; so much so that he turned and waddled away from the vigilante, lobbing a grenade behind him as he stepped out the door. The Ghost barely had time to react and received the concussion as he "jumped" to the hallway. Landing before the Penguin, he looked up to see an umbrella pointed right at him, an umbrella with a smooth rifle bore. "Well, well, well…looks like the new boy in town doesn't like concussive grenades, I'm sure that would have come in handy, if you were going to make it passed the next thirty seconds, that is." The penguin tensed his grip on the trigger and prepared himself for the recoil that would follow. The Ghost tried to focus on "jumping" anywhere, but only saw stars as his ears bled. A batarang flew in and snatched the umbrella out of the villains hand, landing with a bang on the floor beside him, the bullet whizzing right by the Ghost's left ear, he noted a slight sound change, but not much. The Penguin turned to see the Batman standing in the windowsill at the end of the hall. Batman stepped of the sill and on the carpet and slowly advanced towards his prey. The Penguin reached into his coat, the Batman reached under his cape, the Penguin pulled out a small box and pushed a red button; a head splitting screech emanated from it the Batman dropped to his knee and flung another batarang from his cloaked form, smashing the box in the Penguins hand. The smoke and sparking left a burn through his cotton white glove. A second hand from the Batman's cape produced a bolo that left the Penguin struggling to keep his feet before the momentum of the toss took him to the floor. The Batman spoke in a low voice unintelligible to those before him. "Oracle, signal local authorities, and have the medical unit in the cave prepped."

"Got it, Oracle out" Barb replied as she made the arrangements. Batman approached the fallen Ghost and helped him to his feet, and before the Ghost could pull away Batman sprayed a mist into the Ghost's face, knocking him out almost instantly.

The Gray Ghost awoke to find himself unmasked, blind folded and had his hands cuffed behind his back. The Ghost stirred and could hear that he was not alone. He felt cold. The air was cool and damp, like a cave. "Lets talk Ghost" he heard from in front of him.

"Let's…" the ghost replied as he "jumped" leaving his handcuffs and blind fold behind "…. face to face"

The Batman stood his ground as the Gray Ghost reappeared about a foot to the left of where he had been laying just a moment before. The Ghost looked unimpressed by his surroundings. He was in a cave, though not the main chamber of the Batcave, this was a small chamber that was furnished only with the light that shown above them. The two men studied each other for several minutes before either spoke

"Well, you've seen mine, do I get to see yours?" The Ghost motioned from his face to the Bat's. "I don't think so" the Bat replied in his almost perfect gritty voice.

"What's next?" The Ghost asked.

"Who are you?" the Batman demanded

"I could say the same to you, you're still not him. I'll assume your Nightwing."

Giving nothing away, the Batman repeated his demand.

"You know you can't hold me here. All I have to do is think about it and I'm gone. You know that. My still standing here is a courtesy; so how's about you show me some courtesy and offer me something to drink, since I do appear to be your guest." The Ghost retorted. The Batman remained motionless for several moments before he submitted and called for a bottle of water. The Ghost put in for an order of Tylenol and sat down on the cave floor.

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