A/N: This is an introduction to a character but not the beginning of the story. It's a backstory, so to speak. Dreams and flashbacks will reference back to this introduction and flesh it out further. The beginning of the story will commence about five years after the events in this chapter.

To be so lucky...it was the thought that crossed her mind. She had gone to New York for a couple of weeks. She hadn't been there in over ten years. She couldn't believe her luck. A free trip she won for answering a radio stations phone call and saying the right phrase. She hadn't been too happy that she would go alone. She had to leave her family behind. But it was only for a week. A reprieve that was very much needed. Away from the stresses of her life. However, all that seemed so unimportant at the moment.

If she should be so lucky...to survive a plane crash just hours away from where she lived. She was on her way back. Before she boarded, she felt like she could go back to her life with the emotional and mental strength necessary to face what was to come. But now she wondered whether or not she would even get the chance to fix all the problems she'd left behind.

The passengers were scared. She could feel the nervous energy surrounding her. Two older men sat on either side of her. They both sat stock still as plane jerked up and down. The flight attendant said it would all be okay. It was only turbulence. But the men beside her gripped their armrests pushing their shoulders towards her. They could feel exactly what was happening just like she could. They were losing altitude. And it was happening fast.

She looked at one of the men and then the other. She'd been nervous when she realized she would be sitting between the two men who were twice as wide as she was. They hadn't even smiled in her direction when they first saw her. They'd actually frowned at her. They didn't want to be seated next to her any more than she wanted to sit between them. She hadn't been able to use the armrest the entire flight. Any movement she made, she would accidentally bump into one or the other. They were crowding her. But they actually made her feel relaxed. Because without them knowing, their attitudes made her forget about sexual deviants and she actually closed her eyes after a minute into their flight. When she relaxed they seemed to do so as well. But with the threat of a crash looming over them, she decided to forget about any hostility they'd directed towards her before and reached out to take hold of their hands. They ignored the action or simply didn't acknowledge that she was giving them courage. Because she needed any courage they could offer. And what better way to do so than to borrow some from your fellow man.

The act of hand-holding might seem trivial. But it holds so much power over the human mind. It makes us feel loved when our significant other takes our hand. It makes us feel safe when our parents take hold of our hand as we cross the street when we're young. It makes us feel strong when our friend grips our hand when we're about to make a huge decision. It gives us peace of mind when the nurse takes our hand before surgery and tells us everything will be okay. And it reminds us that we are not alone when a stranger grips our hand as the plane we are in begins to fall to the face of the earth. A single touch can do so much good. It could lead to a hug when a boy saves everyone while gently easing the plane onto the ground saving the passengers from certain death. Except that wasn't quite right…

Superman didn't exist.

She looked at the people who were hugging her. A couple who was sitting beside her on a plane that didn't look anything like the men she'd been sitting next to. She looked around and saw people cheering. But she couldn't hear. The woman who had just released her took her hand. When she looked at their joined hands, she realized that hers was not right. It was wrinkly and covered in liver spots. She looked up at the woman.

The woman was smiling at her and saying rather loudly, "Grandma, it's alright now. That super boy saved us!"

Super...boy?

She felt her heartbeat quicken.

She turned to look out of the door that was now open and she saw Superman. He was hovering in the air. But he was not the cape-wearing Superman. It was a teenager wearing jeans and a t-shirt. But she would recognize that face anywhere. It was Clark Kent. A very young Clark Kent.

Her heart began to hammer in her chest.

From her peripheral, she saw a flight attendant press a button next to the open hatch leading out and an inflatable ramp appeared. Down below was a field of corn.

No way! This wasn't real!

A knot of fear formed in her throat.

She felt her breath start to feel labored. Her vision was darkening around the edges.

"Grandma!"

And she was consumed in a void of darkness.

She was suddenly aware but confused about where she was. The curtains were drawn. The furniture was antique mahogany but in wonderful condition. Almost like new. It was meant to feel warm but there was a coldness to the atmosphere that she couldn't explain.

"I see you're awake," said a male voice from the doorway. "My name is Bruce Wayne and this is my home. You were brought here for your own safety and are recovering from heart surgery. How are you feeling?"

She sat up slowly as she remembered everything that had happened to her since that day that Superman had saved her from a plane crash. The day she had died as an old woman. But her death was due to the shock of being in a universe she didn't belong. And the ninety-four-year-old body she had been thrust into couldn't take the emotional strain. After which, she woke in a funeral home in Gotham City and had been in the city ever since. As a matter of fact, every single time she died, she came back younger. She touched her face. It was softer than she thought it'd be.

"I died, didn't I?" she said seeing the thinner hands before her.

She plucked at the clothes she was wearing. It was some sort of shapeless nightdress that was given to patients in clinics. She looked up to see Bruce Wayne studying her with a small frown marring his features.

"You lost consciousness for a few minutes," he said and stepped into the room.

"Someone must have revived me. But, I did die," she said stubbornly. "There is no other explanation for this."

"For what exactly?" Bruce said now standing near the foot of the bed.

She looked towards the doorway when she heard footsteps and saw an older man walking in with a tray in his hands.

"Hello, Miss. I thought you might be hungry," said the older man with an accent she couldn't quite place. British?

"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry," she said just as her stomach growled rather loudly.

"I beg to differ," said the older man as he set down the tray. "Some tea and a little broth should do you some good."

"Tea, huh?" she said and smiled at him. "That does sound good. Thank you, Alfred."

The two men looked at her in surprise because she already knew Alfred's name. But they easily schooled their features and decided not to comment on that for the moment.

"And what shall I call you, miss?" Alfred said.

"Oh," she said after she swallowed her first bit of broth. "I...I don't remember."

"Amnesia?" said Alfred.

Bruce closed his eyes. He felt more than compassion towards the young woman. It was a sense of responsibility. The young woman's sister had died in his arms just before she'd begged him to find the young woman so that he could help her. The sister had been paying for the young woman's medical treatment ever since their parents died. But after an accident, she couldn't remember her sister's name. Or where her sister lived. Even so, she had saved money to give to her sister. And she gave Batman everything she had so that he could, in turn, use it to help her sister. She had neglected her own well being and paid the price. During the time the young woman was on her own, CPS had taken her into custody. The foster parents didn't keep up with the young woman's health care needs until it was almost too late. The young woman almost died but had received an emergency heart transplant that saved her life. By the time Bruce found the young woman, doctors were trying to revive her.

The young woman was alive and well in his home. But her memory may have...

"Uh, no," she said after some thought and shook her head. "I remember everything since I got here. Since Super…well, he wasn't quite a man yet. He saved me—er, us—the passengers, from a plane crash..."

She didn't finish what she was saying. She closed her eyes and a tear escaped her eye. She'd been through so much. She wiped her face angrily. She wouldn't cry. Not now that she finally had an audience with Bruce Wayne.

"Superman?" said Alfred curiously.

"When was this?" said Bruce. He knew her entire history. From what he understood, she'd never even left Gotham. Or been on a plane for that matter.

"I think he saved me a very long time ago," she said quickly and busied herself with the bowl of broth. She drank it all without pause.

"Slow down, Miss," Alfred said taking hold of her wrist trying to bring the bowl down.

"Sorry," she said after she'd emptied the contents and wiped her mouth. "I'm hungrier than I thought."

"Perhaps you'd prefer something more substantial?"

"No, no. I couldn't impose. This was just right," she said with a small smile after she burped and looked at Bruce who was studying her intently.

"You remember Superman saving you but not your name or your manners? He must've made quite the impression," Alfred said removing the bowl from her hands and setting it aside. He handed her the teacup.

"I suppose," she said as she stared at the tea. "It feels like it happened ten lifetimes ago, anyway."

"Other than your name, is there any other detail you may have forgotten?"

"Uh, I guess I wouldn't remember something I forgot," she said cheekily. Alfred raised his eyebrow at her. She gave him an apologetic look. "I just know that I don't remember my real name. I've been going by Hailey Thomas."

"Hailey Thomas?" said Alfred with some curiosity.

"Hailey Thomas," Bruce said and tilted his head a little. "That name sounds familiar."

"Well, it should," Hailey said quickly and almost angrily. "I've been trying to make an appointment to see you. But it's not easy to convince the receptionist at Wayne Enterprises to fit me in sooner than three months."

"Hmm."

"I'm sorry that I never make them," she said sheepishly. "I just never know what day it is when I come back. And when I finally make it to Wayne Enterprises, it's only to find out that I have already missed my appointment. All I can do is set another one."

"Come back from where?"

"Oh, um," Hailey said and looked away.

Bruce and Alfred looked at one another. They wanted to press for answers but thought it was best to be patient. Especially because of her health condition. She had just undergone a heart transplant. And she almost died due to complications. But the young intern who was in charge of her care didn't give up until the young girl's heart began to beat again. It was a long ten minutes. The heart surgeon tried to stop the intern from continuing CPR but he wouldn't listen to anyone.

Bruce had feared he was too late when he arrived on the scene. But with his own insistence, the doctor allowed the intern to continue. The surgeon apologized for not having stopped the intern sooner. The surgeon didn't think the girl's mind would recover from the ordeal. Bruce decided he'd keep an eye on her from his home once she no longer needed to be hooked up to all the machines. She'd been out of it for a few days at the hospital. Almost catatonic. This was the first time she was talking. Bruce thought the change of atmosphere had something to do with it. But he began to have an inkling that something else may be the reason for the change due to what Hailey was saying.

"This is so weird," she said quietly, almost to herself, as she gestured to her body. She stood up from the bed to get a better look. "How old would you say I am?"

"I thought it wasn't polite to guess a lady's age," a younger voice said from the doorway. He looked over at Bruce. "I heard you all talking. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all—"

"Dick Grayson?" Hailey said looking at him in awe.

"Do we know each other?" Dick asked curiously.

"No," Hailey said with a small shake and smiled at him. "You're so much better looking in real life than in pictures."

"Oh, well," Dick said with a small crooked smile. He wasn't often in the papers but when he was he'd be standing next to Bruce for certain Wayne Entreprises events. They were usually black and white. Or bright colored print. Not exactly flattering. "Thanks?"

Hailey simply smiled wider. But when she did, Bruce felt a twinge of familiarity deep down. That smile was eerily familiar. Bruce had known the girl's sister. Briefly. But even sisters didn't behave so similarly.

"How are you feeling? You're in better spirits than I thought you would be considering," Dick said as he walked up to her. But Bruce took hold of his arm before he could pass him up.

"Huh? Is something wrong?"

"Who are you?" Bruce said looking directly at the young woman. His voice was suddenly stern. No longer the friendly tone he'd been using before.

She looked at him in alarm and flinched back.

"Hey, now, it's okay," Dick said with his arms outstretched to her as if he could catch her. He looked over at Bruce with some concern before looking back at the young woman. "We're not going to hurt you."

"No. I know," Hailey said and reached her hand back towards the nightstand for something solid to hold on to. She knocked over the dishes and they shattered on the floor. She realized what she did and in her haste to clean up her mess, she stepped on the broken pieces with her bare feet. "Ow, fuck."

Dick removed Bruce's hold on him and rushed over to the girl. He scooped her up before she could hurt herself any more than she already had. He placed her on the bed and lifted her foot to examine the damage.

"I'll get the first aid kit," said Alfred.

Dick was carefully removing the pieces that had embedded into the sole of her foot.

She hissed at the pain and looked over at Bruce who was still watching her with calculating eyes.

"I'm sorry," Hailey told him sincerely. "But I can't answer your question."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know how to answer it without being sent to a looney bin," Hailey said and hissed again.

"Sorry, almost done," said Dick just as Alfred returned with the first-aid kit and took over.

"What do you mean?" Bruce said ignoring the other two.

Hailey shook her head. "I don't think you'll believe me. I still don't believe it myself."

"It's always best to start at the beginning," offered Alfred while he cleaned her cuts with rubbing alcohol. She gritted her teeth and hissed once more. "You have a high tolerance for pain. Most young women your age would be screaming and crying right about now"

"Yeah, well, pain," Hailey said and looked down at her lap. "It comes with the territory."

"Hey, we can help you. You don't need to worry about that anymore," Dick said trying to offer her some solace.

"That's easy for you to say," Hailey told him. "But I'm sure even Batman would agree with me when I say that pain and suffering is just an unavoidable part of life." She turned to look at Bruce when she said that. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Hhn," Bruce said looking at her curiously.

"We need to talk," Hailey told him.

"Yes, we do," Bruce said and looked at Alfred. "Leave it, for now, Alfred."

"Very well, sir," Alfred said putting down the bandages he was about to place on her foot. "Miss Thomas."

"Thank you, Alfred," Hailey told him sincerely.

"You're welcome, Miss Thomas," he said and walked out the door.

"Dick, if you don't mind."

"But," he said. He looked at the girl then back at Bruce. "I can help, Bruce."

"You wouldn't understand, Dick," Hailey said in a placating tone while looking at her hands.

"Right," Dick said with a little too much bite but he wasn't angry just frustrated. Even this stranger was sending him away, it wasn't just Bruce who didn't think he could be of any assistance. He'd been feeling that way as of late whenever Bruce pushed him away. But that had nothing to do with the young woman. And he turned away in resignation.

She looked up and gave him a sympathetic smile that he didn't see.

"Honestly, he's the only one who could, boy wonder."

Dick froze. Had he just heard what he thought he heard? He spun around to look at her.

"Wha—?"

"Dick," Bruce said placing a hand on his shoulder. "Give us a moment. I'll fill you in later."

They both looked at Hailey and she nodded. She wouldn't mind if Dick knew. But there were a few things she had to say to Batman alone. Especially after what had happened between them before she died the last time.

Once they were alone, Bruce turned to look at her expectantly.

"I don't know much about what is happening to me. I just know where it began. Honestly, if I could, I'd go right back to where I came from and I wouldn't have taken that flight."

"The flight you mentioned that Superman saved you from."

"Yes, but..." Hailey said and sighed.

She told Bruce what she remembered about the flight. How she was going back home to her family from New York. But that during the incident something odd had happened. It was as if she was switched from her world to theirs. The one where Batman and Superman existed. She told him that they were nothing but fiction in her own world. But that she didn't know how the switch took place. One moment she was in her thirty-year-old body and the next, she was an old grandma. A very young Superman had saved her and the other passengers. However, she died anyway and came back to life in a Gotham City funeral home. She knew that she was in a younger body but was still an old woman. She told him that every time she died she was younger when she came back to life. She had no way of knowing how much time had passed between the time she died and the time she came back, but when she did, it was always in a different part of Gotham and in a different body. In each life, she tried to learn as much as she could about the city hoping to cross paths with Batman. It just never panned out. Especially since he wasn't around in the beginning, her first few lives in Gotham. Until very recently. She knew he would be the only one who would believe her. But when she finally got the chance to talk to him, she died before she could tell him what was happening to her.

They stayed quiet for a moment. Bruce taking in everything she'd said. And Hailey hoping he'd believe her.

"You mentioned before that you made appointments to meet with me. Why would you look for me specifically?"

"I didn't know who else to turn to," Hailey said and blew out a strained breath. "You're not only rich and powerful but also a humanitarian. You care about the people in Gotham. Otherwise, you wouldn't go out of your way to have so many charities all over town. Besides, who else would actually listen to me without deciding right away that I was crazy? I can only imagine someone like you has seen a thing or two and maybe...you could help me stop whatever is happening to me? Or at the very least you could help me, I don't know, endure this nightmare? Because seriously, how old am I going to be the next time I come back? And when will I finally stay dead?"

"You want to die," Bruce said matter-of-factly.

"And you wouldn't?!" Though what he'd said was in a monotone voice, she heard the judgment that was implied. "You think it's fun to be in a completely different world than where I'm supposed to be! Away from a family I don't remember! Away from a child whose face I can no longer picture! Or worse yet, having to keep coming back to life just to suffer again and again! And each time remembering just enough experiences from the host's mind to drive me insane! I've been tortured enough!"

"Enough, Hailey," Bruce said sternly. She was getting too worked up and her health couldn't take the strain.

She took a breath and then started to sob.

Bruce stood there looking at her with sympathetic eyes. He knew it was best to stay silent. Sometimes it was all anyone could do to help someone else in this type of situation. Because any words of solace he could offer would fall short here. He could tell she had been through a lot. But there was no way he could say he understood what she'd gone through. Even though she'd said that he was the only one who could. It simply wasn't possible. Hearing her cry though, it was painful for him. He took a step closer to her wanting to reach out to place a hand on her shoulder at the very least. But before he could, she slapped herself using both hands on either side of her face.

"Stop it!" Hailey said to herself. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself!"

Bruce looked on in alarm and then he finally did come close enough where he could reach a hand towards her. But instead of touching her, he sat beside her quietly. She wanted to regain her own composure. This young woman, whoever she was, was very strong.

She took a deep breath and wiped her face.

"Sorry that you had to see that," Hailey said in a soft voice and averting her eyes.

"You may not have realized this yet, but you are strong," Bruce told her. She scoffed. But he placed a hand over hers and only then noticed how small it was. "You are."

His touch offered her some comfort. But it also made her feel guilty.

"You won't think that after I tell you everything I've done."

Bruce looked at her and nodded.

"Maybe you're right," he said but then gripped her hand a little tighter to make her look at him. "But then again, you could be wrong."

"I may be projecting," she said with a crooked smile. "But I think you'll want to send me away anyway."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Bruce told her and she nodded. "I do have to admit that I've never heard of anything like this before. But that doesn't mean I won't try to help you."

"You just need to hear it all."

"Yes."

"I can't remember all the details. But I'll tell you what I can."

He nodded at her. But then he stood up and walked to the door.

"Why don't you get a little more rest. I'll come back to see you later," Bruce said.

"Yes, of course," Hailey said and held out her hand.

"What is it?"

"If you give me a recording device," she said with a sad smile. "It'll make things easier."

"For you?"

"For the both of us," she said and looked at her lap. "Believe me, it won't just be hard for me to say. It will be hard for you to listen and not want to…"

"Alright," Bruce said and threw a small device he had in his pocket to her.

He had already been recording what she'd said but not with the device he gave her. The entire room was monitored. And he was only giving her some space so that he could investigate what she'd said so far. She sounded sincere but that didn't mean she wasn't lying. She was very intelligent. And she could be working for someone else. He couldn't help think that he'd been bamboozled into bringing her into his home. He had to play things safe. Make her think she had his trust. At least, a little of it. Because she already knew that he was wary of her. But that was okay. He could work with that. It was Dick that he had to convince to be careful of her. He already knew that Alfred would keep a healthy distance from her.

"But get some rest first," he told her.

She shook her head.

"I better not. I don't know how long it will take for me to forget my former lives. I already forgot the original. I only remember the plane and why I was on it. That I had a family and a child to return to. But I don't remember my name or any other details about my life. Not even my child's name or gender. And every life I've lived since I got here, doesn't last very long."

Bruce nodded but didn't say anything. He simply walked out. When he went through the hallway, he saw Dick standing there with his arms crossed.

"How much did you hear?" Bruce asked him.

"Just enough to make me more curious," Dick said and looked at the door Bruce had come out of. "Is she dangerous?"

"To us?" Bruce said and shook his head. "I don't know yet. To herself? I believe she is."

"Do you believe her?"

"I think she believes what she says," Bruce said and began to walk away.

"But she said she comes back to life? How does that work?" Dick said walking fast enough to keep pace with Bruce.

"I don't know," Bruce said and opened the clock doorway to head into the cave. "But there is something that I can confirm."

"What is that?"

"I've met her before," Bruce said and looked at back at Dick as they made their way downstairs. "While she was in a different body."

Dick looked at him questionably. But didn't comment.

Bruce began to listen to the recording of what she'd told them when she woke up. He looked through Metropolis newspaper archives for any stories related to a plane incident and Superman. He couldn't find what Hailey had mentioned. But then he decided to look further back near Smallville. And he found what he was looking for. In a rural county, a journalist posted a story similar to what Hailey had mentioned. It included a photo of a couple who was distraught over a ninety-four-year-old woman who was being taken by a paramedic. The older woman hadn't sustained any injuries during the plane incident. Her health had taken a turn for the worse when she saw the mysterious superhuman teenager who had saved them from their imminent death.

"Patricia Josefine Todd died at the age of 94," Dick read from a Gotham obituary that Bruce had uncovered. It was the same woman from the plane. She had been transported to Gotham where her daughter lived for funeral arrangements. "Was born October 11, 1908...survived by her children, Aprilyn Gallaugher, and Robert A. Todd; her beloved grandson, Willis Todd; nieces and nephew, Wanda Ohashi, Betty Gadd, June Bold, Darlene Paule, and Samuel Kidd; three sisters, Allis Emelie Fiucci, Ferne Marie Rosser and Winifred Beatrice Pennell; and sister-in-law, Emily Mae Kidd."

"Her sister, Allis, went missing for about a year," Bruce said as he magnified an article. "She was later found dead in a retirement home."

"According to initial police reports, she tried to save a woman who was about to be raped by an orderly," Dick said as he continued to read the report. "The alleged perpetrator was never convicted. The woman he tried to abuse couldn't testify during the trial. She had dementia. So her original statement was ignored. The orderly was adamant that he'd acted in self-defense. Allis wasn't even a resident of the retirement home. When her children found out what had happened and what the defense attorney told them, they decided not to press charges. The prosecution had no choice but to close the case."

"They were socialites. Far more concerned with hearsay than the need for justice."

"Look, Bruce," Dick said magnifying another news article. "Most of the women mentioned in Patricia's obituary have also gone missing after a death occurs in the family. It's believed to be some sort of family curse. A psychotic break that makes them forget who they are. Some of them were never found again. Police said they were looking into the incidents but the reporter said they chalked up the entire thing to mental illness."

"And it looks like the curse continued long after that article was printed," Bruce said. "The latest victim from Patricia's family is seventeen-year-old Yvette Paule."

"You mean the girl upstairs?"

"Yes. But according to her, her name is Hailey Thomas. Yvette died and Hailey's soul is using that body as its host."

"But how's that possible? Why does she believe she died?"

"Because she did. They both did," Bruce told him. "After her heart transplant, Yvette was clinically dead for ten minutes before she was revived. From what Hailey has said so far, it's possible that her soul enters a body only after the person who'd previously occupied it dies."

"If I'm following this line of thought correctly, Hailey died previously and was just an errant soul until Yvette died and she took over her body?"

"Yes. Yvette's sister Molly died three months prior to Yvette's death. I met Molly the night she died. That's why I said I'd met Hailey before. She was in Molly's body," Bruce said and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She told me she had a sister. But that she couldn't remember her name. That she was supposed to pay for her medical bills. And she gave me all the money she'd saved up. Told me to get it to her. It was her dying wish. By the time I found her sister, she'd almost died as well. But it seems I was too late to save her regardless."

Dick looked at Bruce sideways. He didn't want to say anything. But he had wondered why Bruce had taken such an interest in a dead prostitute. All Bruce had told him was that the girl took on that life so that she could pay for her sister's medical bills. And Bruce was dead set in finding her sister so that he could help her any way he could.

"That's why you've had me looking into her life. I was confused since it wasn't about a case. The girl died of heart failure, right?"

Bruce nodded but he had a guilty look on his face.

"That's not something you could've saved her from. Why're you beating yourself about it anyway? If you believe the girl upstairs, she's the same one. She's still alive."

Bruce realized right then that this had to be an act of magic or some other mystical feat. Bruce had no reason not to believe the girl upstairs. Someone was not only switching her soul from body to body but was also using the women in the Todd family tree to do so. Bruce quickly looked up more information on the women in the obituary. He found out that there were three females that were still alive from Patricia's bloodline. Angelina Kidd, Winona Bold, and Helena Gadd. All three of them currently lived in Gotham.

"Bruce, where are you going?" Dick asked when the man suddenly stood up and began to make his way upstairs.

"There's something I need Alfred to arrange. Meanwhile," Bruce said turning back to look at Dick. "I need you to keep an eye on Hailey."

Dick nodded but then sighed heavily. There was something that Bruce wasn't saying. And it had nothing to do with the girl upstairs. She had three living relatives. Three girls. And they were all younger than the girl upstairs. Would they all end up being taken over by Hailey?