As Bruce Wayne lay on his cot, he had the timing of the shift changes down, and the cycling pattern of the cameras. He watched the meals he was provided closely, for fear of more chemicals, he discretely fed a portion to the rats he kept company with, and they had not displayed any odd behavior. Bruce's nightmares had continued, but he was in more control of his own mind. The scarecrow must not have changed his dosages.
The man who had orchestrated the kidnapping sat at his desk and watched Bruce Wayne, Billionaire Philanthropist, feeding his meal to the rats of his cell.
"Very interesting, it would take a very strong willed man to resist us this well, wouldn't it doctor?" the Master queried as he reached to the intercom.
"Yes, it would seem that way. We should really resume my chemical treatments, if you do want to break him." Dr. Crane replied
"Not yet, Crane. I have plans for this man and I don't want him completely crippled. He must be prepared for the program and his will must be broken for that, and so far, I do not see that your keeping your end of the bargain, just toying with him." The Master accused. The bad doctor recoiled at the smear. "I know what I'm doing, just untie my hands and that playboy will be sitting in yours!" the doctor mustered.
"Very well, Mr. Wayne needs to be ready in three days, specialists will be here then to begin his education." The master ordered.
"As you wish." Dr. Crane answered gleefully as he backed out of the control room and made his way to the lab. Twenty minutes later a dozen guards stormed into Bruce Wayne's cell, grabbing him up and beating him down, holding him to the ground, arms and legs held away from his body. Dr. Crane entered the cell and greeted his victim. "Mr. Wayne, it's time for your medicine" as he pulled a black case out of his coat pocket. "I've waited a long time for the right occasion to try out this one. You should feel honored to be the first" Crane taunted. Wayne's eyes focused on the box and he began to struggle, bucking the guards around amazingly for his position but doing very little in the way of letting him escape. Crane opened the box and removed the syringe and needle, connecting them together in front of Bruce, enjoying the reaction he saw. The fluid inside was a shade that Bruce hadn't seen the Scarecrow use before, he expected this to have very bad effects, and he was right. The needle went into his upper left arm and the chemicals burned their way into his body. He began screaming and bucking wildly. The guards held him down, but were hard pressed to do it. Then Wayne passed out and the dreams came at him full force.
The Gray Ghost sat on the floor of the cave swallowed his Tylenol with his bottled water and relaxed. He motioned for the Batman to join him on the ground. Batman declined.
"Suit yourself, but all that body armor can't be too comfortable. Where's my hat and goggles?" The Ghost inquired
Batman was getting very tired of the game but pulled the items out from his cape and dropped then at the Ghost's feet. In mock offense, "be careful with that, don't you know good hats need to be shaped in order to look good, otherwise I could just wind up looking foolish. I swear they don't teach manners these days at the superhero university." The Ghost could have gone on mocking, but the Batman double started to growl a deep guttural growl of annoyance, which let the Ghost know his patients were wearing thin.
With that, hoping for some kind of trust, The Gray Ghost introduced himself to the Batman. "I'm the Gray Ghost, as you've heard. My name is Simon Trent. I am a freelance writer and I believe in Truth, Justice, and the American way. I have gifts you've heard about, and gifts you haven't. I'm trying to be a good guy, not a villain. Which would be real easy for me, as you know. Batman saved my life twice and I owe him. So how about you cut the new kid on the block a little slack." Simon went on to tell the young knight of the times he crossed paths with the Bat mentor. Batman stood there showing no emotion, listening intently, also recording the whole conversation for later. Oracle listened in and began cross checking the facts of the car crash, the hospital bills, she had Tim check with Alfred about the meeting he had with Bruce and the scholarship. Every thing checked out, and Oracle relayed this to the Batman through his earpiece.
"Alright, I've heard enough. You can go. So far you haven't broken any the major rules we go by. Keep it that way. I'll be keeping an eye on you." And the Batman melted into the shadows. Jason stood to his feet and felt a little woozy from his concussion. He called out " and how am I suppose to get out of here?" There was no answer. Simon put his suit back in order, goggles over his eyes, and hat on his head and "jumped" going nowhere but right to the floor. The Ghost blacked out. Batman walked back into the small chamber, picked up the Ghost and carried him to the sick bay. The gray fedora lay on the stone ground.
Alfred, being the Batman' Batman, ministered to the young broken man as he had done so many to so many others; He mused to himself that he should have received his PhD by now, with all the practical skills he has, he could certainly be an emergency room doctor. The young man had a slight concussion, and some abrasions, Boy Scout injuries by Alfred's standards. He dressed the wounds, ran IV fluids and kept the patient from falling out of bed, and wandering the cave, he set Robin to keep an eye on their guest. Alfred was gone and avoided the sickbay as to not let the young man see him. He didn't want to give away his master's secret identity, which would certainly happen if the Ghost recognized him, a very good possibility considering they had met once. Alfred Remembered the boy was very anxious and quite pleased with the meal he had served. He had mentioned several times in correspondence to Mr. Wayne, continually thanking him for the chance he had been offered. Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth were names and faces burned into his mind permanently. And if he is as true as his word, the decision to drop masks lies with a man in an unknown location, the missing head of this obscure yet dedicated family. Alfred pondered these things as he set up his tea serving set for lunch.
The Master sat with his back to the door of the make shift office he was occupying. His meditation was ritual to him and his Dragon Clan. It helped him maintain his focus and centered him in the world he led. The master had hung his black flowing coat, with blood crimson shoulders down to the mid-upper arms, on a rack next to the door. His black katana lay before him, the focal point of his gaze. He wore a black tunic and trousers; in fact he wore all black except for the red in his coat, a matching smock that covered his face from his nose down. And a silver dragon medal on a chain around his neck; the symbol of his leadership of the Dragon Clan, a secret society that uses old martial arts teachings, advanced technology, and some dark arts to run their criminal empire. A society so secret that even the League of Assassins do not know of their shadowy existence. Only a handful of wealthy yet shady benefactors each generation knows of them. The Masters' fiery red hair stood on end as the energy of his powers surged through his body. There was a knock at his door and the masters' eyes snapped open, revealing blood red orbs, as though his eyes were bleeding from the inside and had filled up completely. No pupil or any other part of his eyes could be discerned, just the red.
"Enter" the Master grumbled "this better be good."
"Master, the techs have finished with Wayne," a lowly guard fearfully explained
"Good, Is he ready?" the Master asked, almost impatiently
"He is ready for your evaluation, Master"
" I shall be down momentarily." Then the door slammed n the face of the shaken guard. "Worm" the Master muttered and returned to his meditation.
Dick sat at the large oak dining table, not enjoying the meal before him. His mind was on Simon Trent. He wondered if he had made the right decision in letting the Gray Ghost continue. Alfred had set places for two, Dick was expecting Barbara, but she had to cancel at the last minute due to an emergency in Central City. Captain Cold had unleashed a weather bomb, effectively sealing the city off in a giant igloo. Barbara had to route members of the JLA off of the Bruce Wayne kidnapping to help thaw out the city. Dick understood. Broken dates and missed chances were apart of the whole superhero deal, like a doctor being waken up in the middle of the night to treat emergency patients. Still, he was disappointed, with the stress he had been accumulating lately; he felt they both needed some time alone together. Alfred entered the dining room and began clearing the table of the unused dinnerware. A stern look encouraged Dick to begin eating the pasta in front of him; if not to build up his energy, to keep the old butler appeased. A nursemaid from the beginning, Alfred disapproved of skipping meals or anything that appeared wasteful.
"Alfred how's our guest?" Dick asked
"Asleep, he should rouse anytime. Minor concussion, he'll be fine." Alfred replied. "He shouldn't be moved until he's been checked out by Dr. Tompkins though."
"And how do we do that with out compromising her?" Dick asked
"She's too stubborn to care. She'll just say she was brought in by men in masks" was Alfred's only answer as he dialed Leslie's number.
Dick continued his meal and asked obscurely "What would Bruce have done?"
"I believe he would have handled he situation the way he felt was most efficient, as he would expect you to follow your feelings in the matter in his absence."
"Thank you Alfred. Still, it's not easy having all this responsibility. How Does Bruce do it?"
"Master Dick, Master Bruce took on all of this against my urging. He built up this coalition to help prevent other children from having to share his pain. This responsibility is his coping method, getting lost in his work, you might say. Not the healthiest outlet I would say, but suited for him. His methods differ, as do his attributes. Any other consultation I cannot give. Just that your father would be proud of how your holding the team together and keeping his mission moving forward." With that, Alfred left the room and attended the dishes in the kitchen, silently mourning his friend.
Bruce Wayne lay in his in his cot in the fetal position, staring off into nothingness. Then Master stood before him and was satisfied with the end result. The Master turned and left the cell.
" Prepare him for his trip home. He has work to do." The Master ordered the guards.
Wayne was manhandled into ropes and was blindfolded, then carried away to a waiting black van.
Simon Trent never saw the middle aged woman who treated him, but he felt the effects. While he was unconscious, Dr. Tompkins had performed a CAT scan in the cave to rule out any internal bleeding. When she completed her care, she left instructions with Alfred and Tim for further care. With the good doctors approval, Dick ordered Simon be returned to his apartment, and looked after. He had been in the cave for several days and Dick didn't want this new allies' identity compromised so early in the game. Tim adopted a disguise and convinced the Simon's neighbors that he was Jimmy, Simon's brother, and that he had been mugged and in the hospital for a few days.
Bruce Wayne's near lifeless body was hurled from the black van at ten miles an hour, landing in front of the gate as the van sped away.
