His cape draped over a small wooden chair, He contorted his muscles, and concentrated on keeping himself light enough, As not to crush the chair into splinters. He often wondered if any other person ever had to do such a thing. Cocentrate on not breaking a chair. Maybe, if they did. Maybe they'd understand.

They'd understand how hard it was for him, for all those years, To sit and play the part he had accepted when he was barely old enough to know better. How so many times he had to hand over some despicable piece of crap, who's only contribution to the world was taking the existence of someone else from it, and knowing all the while, that the hardest punishment they were going to get were 3 hot meals, and cable television. Something some good, and morally just people in this world, Could never get. Maybe they'd understand him, and why he did what he had to do, if only they knew what he really wanted to do.

"…bruce…what did you do…"

Headline after headline scrolled in front of him, each getting worse, and worse, with every audible flip of switch. Sitting forward, He clutched the front of the seat, and looked deeply into the screen, as he read each and every word he had missed, with more then he'd like to admit, being about him.

No, not himself.

Him.

Stopping on one particular headline, He squints his eyes, Trying his best to maintain the calm that he's been able to obtain over the last five years, With all of his outwardly might.

'Bomb At Bugle' His eyes see, And quickly close there after. He does not need to read the rest of it. Because he already knows it by heart.

"Lois Lane, Executive Press, Was killed along with two others yesterday morning, when an explosive device activated just outside the doors of the Daily Bugle. Severe damage to the building, and sidewalk, According to authorities, was that of 4 times what they have ever seen, giving them an indication that it was meant for much more then personal use.

Although most of the windows on floors 1 through 14 were blown out, and several holes now sit where cement used to be, the infrastructure of the building has remained in tact."

He continues to read aloud, eyes tightly shut, Until behind him, a dark silhouette appears. Falling from the ceiling, It rises slowly, long, dark, leather-like cape rubbing against the floor. Silent to the rest of us, including the man wearing it. Deafeningly loud, to the man in front of him.

The chair bursts into a cloud of dust and splinters, as his hand squeezes it with all of his might. And in his usual blur, He zips across the distance between himself, and the man.

The Batman.

Staring into his eyes, He smiles, and begins to walk around him, Looking him up and down, As any man would, when faced with a true legend of days gone by.

"funny. You seemed bigger before."

"why are you here?"

"To see you…to talk to you…but mostly…to warn you."

"Warn me of what?"

"Of your friends, and their not so friendly intentions."

"Last time I checked, I didn't have many of those."

"You didn't look that far, then."

"And I guess your one I overlooked, Jason?"

"In a way." Reaching under his cowl, He pulled his mask back, and shook his sweat soaked hair from the pulled back position it had been stuck in since sundown. "You might find this hard to believe, Supes. But me and you, We're not as different as some would like to believe. Yes, You do have the invincible thing going. And the coming from another planet…But in all honesty, When you look at the grander picture, It's far more of a common scheme, then those small, and inane details."

Returning to the computer, He began to look through the clippings once more, No longer interested in what the man had to say, Or the reasons he had to say it. As far as he was concerned, This was nothing more then some trap Bruce had set, In order to get him out in the open, Away from the public. As no matter how badly Bruce wanted him off this planet, He would not dare enact a plan of attack, As long as their was even the slightest chance of collateral damage. And either would anyone he might be working with.

"Supes…Think about it. We both rose from the dead. We both lost a piece of ourselves at some point in time. We both lost the respect of that judgmental prick. And we both agree that locking people away forever, Isn't the best course of action. Especially when forever, In this world, Is over before the rice is done cooking."

"Your smart, Jason. I will give you that. Being trained by him, It'd be impossible for you not to be. But you are wearing his costume. And in order for you to do that, You must also be doing things his way. As there is very little chance he would allow you to do anything otherwise."

Smiling, The now mid-30's man looked toward the computer screen behind him, and nodded toward it. Saying, with a chuckle as a prefix "…who said I have his permission?"