Batman swung down into Gordon's office to see what was happening in the wide world of Gotham City, specifically anything better than regular petty thievery.

"What's happening in Gotham tonight, Gordon?" he growled in the shadows behind the Lieutenant's desk. The man jumped and turned around.

"Oh, Lord! It's just you. You scare the living daylights out of me when you do that."

"Happy to please. Anything to report?"

"Not really," Gordon sighed. He leafed through some papers on his desk. "Some armed robberies without a shot being fired, one building burnt to the ground with no casualties, and one stolen and recovered Porsche. The city is slow today."

Batman inwardly groaned. He personally hated getting all dressed up for nothing. Nights like this exasperated him to no end.

"So there's nothing on the map?" he demanded.

"Well, if you're gunning for something to do, take a look at the M.P.R.'s. Missing Person Reports. It'll keep you busy, at least."

"Hey, I'm not a lapdog, okay?"

"No offense meant. It's just something to do on a slow night."

Batman let out a sigh and picked up the thick file. On top were the five most recent reports than dated between that day and last week. He plucked these sheets from the manila folder and tucked them away. "I'll return these later," he assured Gordon.

"You can track down five people in all of Gotham in one night?" the man asked, astounded.

"It'll keep me busy, won't it?"

He crouched on the roof of an office building that stood forty stories in the air. Slowly he leafed through the five papers he'd taken. The first three were kids that looked like runaways; sullen teenaged boys who had probably already joined up with a gang and were rolling the streets in stolen motorcycles. The fourth was a middle-aged woman who he assumed was gorgeous enough to have just left her husband for the other man.

But the last was a teenaged girl who struck a weird chord. He couldn't profile her like the other four. She didn't look like she had any reason to be missing. "Becca Gunn," he read, scanning her details. "Six-foot, brown shoulder-length hair…blind…"

Suddenly something in his head clicked. Holy Hell, it was her! After all these years, suddenly he'd remembered her and then she turns up missing! It had to be that girl; she was the right age, basically the same name and everything, not to mention the disability.

Well, he might as well find her. Whoever she was living with obviously missed her enough to wonder where she was. That, and he wanted to see how she was doing since he last saw her…what was it? Six years ago?

He ran a current through his "wings" and flew down to the lower levels of Gotham, planning to start his search around where whoever owned the cell phone's listed number lived.

"Wake up, miss. Time to eat so we can begin our project afterwards."

Becca's consciousness came back to her slowly. But all too soon she was aware of Dr. Crane sitting her up and pushing a piece of bread to her mouth. Clamping her teeth tight, Becca had resolved not to eat it when he spoke again.

"I suggest you eat. If you don't, your immune system will weaken and you stand a higher risk of not surviving the effects of my compound."

That said, Becca almost choked while trying to eat it as quickly as possible, lest he lose patience and continue without her being full.

"Please don't do this," she begged. In a situation like this, she wasn't at all above pleading for her safety. "Please, let me go!"

"Now, now," he chuckled in that voice that drove her mad with anger. He even went so far as to place a finger over her lips to quiet her. "Dignity, miss."

She hated feeling so vulnerable like this, like nothing she said or did would make any difference in the outcome. And the worst part was not being able to see him. He could look like anything, and that was what frightened her more than the impending experiments he was going to start doing on her.

Wait…no. You saw his picture before. He used to be in a paper all the time…before you lost your sight.

She racked her brains for a memory. Suddenly, there he was, in black-and-white in her mind. A man of small stature but with an intimidating stare, even with his playful smirk in the picture. Rimmed glasses and wavy dark hair, slightly mussed from the breeze that had been blowing when they took the picture.

This guy had been a wimp! An educated but obviously lacking in the physical build lightweight.

And here she was, probably a good half-head taller than him, and she couldn't lift a finger to stop him! Wasn't that irony for you?

"Ah, but we don't have time to bicker," he commented coolly. "I have something for you to inhale. Now, do it fast and it won't have to hurt…much."

When she held her breath in defiance, he pinched her nose until she gasped for air. At the exact instant she opened her mouth, he blasted her with a cold spray that invaded her lungs like gaseous liquid nitrogen, freezing her inside.

Her mind went wild. Thoughts buzzed inside her head and she thought she would pass out. Maybe she did. Maybe she already had. But slowly, her mind cleared. She realized her wrists hurt very much and they were even bleeding a bit.

"Feeling light-headed?" a cruel voice demanded. "Tell me; I'm simply dying to know the symptoms."

Becca suddenly felt that her hands were free. In some spasm she didn't quite remember, she must have torn the rope apart. With all the speed she could muster, she threw her hands up and tried to push him away.

But what was this she felt? Rough canvas and frayed string covering his face! She pulled back in disgust and made a sick sound. "What the hell is on your face?" she spat, too surprised to be scared.

He made a confused sound and she heard the rushing of fabric. Suddenly his breath was hot on her skin and she tried to get him away by smacking him. Her hand connected with bare flesh now and the resounding "crack" echoed in the tiled room.

"Ow! Damn it!" he cursed, withdrawing.

She sat, stunned, trying to figure it all out while he mused angrily.

"I don't understand it. The sedative he gave you must have worn off by now. And I gave you a huge dose of the toxin. Why aren't you showing the simple signs of animal fear?"

As he muttered, slowly she began moving along the floor to her right, to perhaps get around him and make for the exit. Just as he noticed and exclaimed, "Stay where you are!" she made her move.

"Get away from me, you costumed freak!" she snarled, scrambling to her feet. She tried to run by him towards where she expected the door was, but just as she passed him she felt his hand grab her ankle and trip her, sending her to the floor face-first. Luckily she caught herself with her palms against the tile, but another "snap" was heard and she realized her sunglasses had fallen off and were now cleanly shattered all over the floor under her left hand. Some shards were embedded in her skin and she winced.

With a wail of despair, she barely noticed his yanking her backwards and further into the cell. She clawed for the broken pieces and turned onto her back to use them as weapons.

Even as they fell apart in her hands as she tried to cut his arms with them, Becca heard his surprised gasp and that insufferable chuckle.

"Well. I wouldn't have guessed unless I saw it myself. The bridge of the shades hid that neat slice between your eyes nicely. And, of course, the lenses completely covered the rest. It's a neat trick."

"Shut up," she hissed.

He stood and moved towards the door. "Well, now I see why it didn't work. After all, you can't fear what you can't see." And with that, he swung the heavy door closed on her and left her alone in the cold tile room.