Bruce stood from his chair at the girl's bedside. Alfred was checking on her monitors opened the door. He listened to the beeping of the heart rate monitor. The rhythm was steady and even. As he stepped out of the room it became sharp and irregular.

He whirled around. Raven was thrashing about in her bed. Bruce ran over and held her down. She shrieked and screamed. And suddenly Richard was forcing her shoulders down to the bed. Bruce didn't have time to wonder how he'd gotten there.

Raven's eyes snapped open and she stared at the two men holding her down. "What's going on?" her voice was almost a whisper. Bruce looked at Alfred. The old man shook his head.

Richard was staring at Raven. Why was she asking that question? She knew very well what was going on. She was in Wayne Manor and she had been lying in bed for two days.

She sat up and frantically ran her hands down her back, Richard quirked and eyebrow at her. She looked around the room in a very confused manner.

She began muttering to herself. He could barely hear her. "It just happened. This isn't possible. I don't have a wound. And there's no bandaging." What wound? Did she need bandaging?

"Raven? What are you talking about?"

"The clown, he shot me! And you weren't you and then Bruce and the clown were fighting."

Alfred put the back of his hand to her forehead. "She doesn't have a fever."

"Hallucinogens?" Bruce asked.

"We tested her when she got here. Nothing showed up."

"Test her again; anything on the planet that she could have breathed in, swallowed, or been injected with."

Richard watched silently as his mentor and the butler took blood samples, pulled hairs and searched her entire body for needle tracks. Raven twitched impatiently every few minutes. An hour passed and Bruce and Alfred left to sift through their newly acquired samples. Raven was quiet until the door clicked shut.

"That wasn't a hallucination Richard." She whispered.

"Who knows? What about the clown? What did he look like?"

"Green hair, purple suit, his face was painted white."

"That sounds like the Joker."

"The Joker?"

"He's completely psychotic. We grab every once-in-a-while."

"You know what's weird?"

"Mmm."

"I feel like I've met you before. Bruce too, kinda like I've lived here."

"Impossible."

"Not completely. When I turned thirteen, I woke up on the streets wearing a white robe. I don't remember anything before that."

Richard sat down next to the bed, immediately interested in Raven's eyes. His eyes ached from their luminescence. So compelled was by here eyes he couldn't help but utter, "Violet."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. Do you remember your parents?"

Raven smirked, however curt he was with her…

"Kind of… I remember my mother. But my father didn't exist outside what she whispered about him to my grandmother. Is Bruce your father?"

"No. He adopted me after my parents were killed." He had started to withdraw from her. She wouldn't give up though.

The doorknob twisted and in stepped the large, entirely too imposing Bruce Wayne. Raven pushed herself from the bed. Richard watched as her small feet planted themselves on the floor.

"Your Angela's daughter, aren't you?"

A/N Cliffie. Ha. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. My friend AvatarRox1234 finally urged this out of me. Plus I'm sick today so it was easier to actually get to the computer without my brother here. Sorry, I slow. I promise I'll start the next chapter later tonight.