The faint smell of running water woke Terry. Almost immediately, the pain radiating outwards from his chest returned, and he could not help but groan sharply. He opened his eyes slowly, to be greeted by an expensive-looking hotel room, replete with gorgeous artificial flowers and state-of-the-art adaptive lighting. He had no time to collect his thoughts before the door to the shower room swung open, and Curaré walked in. Upon seeing him, she bowed her head gently, before walking over to the sleek desk adjacent to the door. She grabbed the complementary holo-pad and started writing.

"Where am I?" Terry said, half to himself, before looking to his right and seeing a large window. The buildings outside gave no clues; they were typical skyscrapers. Suddenly, Terry was startled by the bed dipping on his left. He looked around, to see Curaré sitting on the edge of the bed, attempting to pass the holo-pad to him.

"Thanks" he simply said, as he took the pad.

"This is a hotel in North Gotham. I have seen to your wounds to the best of my ability. There will be some discomfort, but your condition is stable. I will explain everything when I have taken you home. Please tell me the address."

The situation was beyond bizarre. Terry had no idea how to begin, and so fumbled out a confused attempt as best he could.

"Look, I'm glad you did what you did back there, but I can't just tell you where I live. I'm the batman, and-"

Before he could finish, Terry felt a distinct sinking feeling in his gut as he realised that his chest was no longer in costume. His hand raced to his face, to find that his mask had been removed too. Great. An already terrible situation was now even worse.

It did not take Curaré long to deduce the reason for Terry's newfound grimace. She held her hand out flat again, and gestured for Terry to hand the pad back to her. When he did, she began writing once more.

"I am not your enemy. Your identity will be kept secret. I insist that you let me take you home. It would be dangerous and difficult to travel alone in your state."

Terry read the words with mild relief. At least she wasn't planning on blackmailing him or something. But he was still at a loss as to what to do now. There was no way he could take her to his real home and potentially put his family in danger. But maybe… maybe he could take her to the batcave. The old man was away and the batcave's defence systems meant that he could at least trap her in there if the worst came to the worst. At this point, what other option did he have? Hobble several miles home in the early hours of the morning?

Terry sighed, before resigning himself to the only option "We need to get to the Wayne estate. Y'know where that is?"

Curaré took the pad, and wrote

"We can hire a car, I have the credits"

As soon as she had handed the pad to Terry, she stood up, and walked to the desk, before opening the top draw. From it, she produced a newly bought pair of jeans and a T-shirt, which she tossed onto Terry's lap.

"Your rescue service comes with free clothes? Talk about over the top" Terry half joked. Unsurprisingly, it elicited nothing from Curaré but a blank stare, followed by her leaving the room to let him change.

"Guess I shouldn't give up the day- erm… night job?" He said to himself before getting dressed as quickly as his injury would allow. When he was finished, he went through to the adjacent room, to find Curaré facing the window, with the hotel phone in her hand.

He had opened the door almost silently, but her perfectly honed senses easily recognised his entry. She spun around, and held her arm out straight.

"Oh, you want me to make the call?" Terry offered. Curaré simply nodded, before he came forward and took the phone. He could not help but sit down on one of the chairs as soon as he had done so - his stomach was already aching just from moving from room to room.

He was just about to hit the call button when he hesitated, and asked his companion a question

"Why do you never talk?"

Curaré gave him a piercing stare. It was so deep and impenetrable that he was almost unnerved. An uncomfortably long pause followed, before she said one simple word.

"pain"

The way she spoke made it clear that she was indeed in pain. It sounded as though speaking just one syllable took a great deal of effort and discomfort. Nevertheless, her voice was that of a normal human woman, albeit strained. Terry had been half-expecting some alien sound from this lady with blue skin. Ironically, the very normality of her voice was jarring, and very humanising - in a way, Terry had never thought of this mute, seemingly sociopathic assassin as a person. But here she was - capable of saving his life, caring for his wellbeing, and being in pain.

"I'm sorry-" Terry started, before realising how generic and meaningless his response probably sounded

"What I mean is I won't ask you to talk again… I'm sorry it hurts you"

Curaré simply nodded, before finally breaking her stare and instead turning to gaze out of the window.

It didn't take long for the sleek, neon-covered vehicle to stop outside. Luckily for Terry, the room was equipped with a fast-boarding docking station for hover-cars, allowing him only a short walk down an extendable tunnel which connected to the door of the transport. With Curaré to lean on, it was a lot less painful than he had feared. The drive home was uneventful - after all, there's very little smalltalk to be had when one of you doesn't speak. Nevertheless, with the speed of modern cars, they were at the Wayne estate in no time.