I got out of bed as quietly as I could, muffling my coughs in my pillow. It was time.

The office they kept the records in was kept locked most of the time but I knew a thing or two about picking locks. I wasn't professional but your average cheap padlock or doorknob gave out after ten minutes with the right tools. Unfortunately I only had a pocketknife I'd secreted from under the kitchen sink when it was my turn to do the dishes. It would do. Eventually.

I snuck slowly down the stairs, stopping twice to catch my breath and still muffling my coughs with the pillow. I didn't remember being quite this breathless before. It must have been the excitement. I crept slowly towards the office. Then I noticed the door was already ajar.

A stroke of luck?

No way. Maybe someone had broken in to steal the computer, in which case I was in deep trouble. Another coughing fit overcame me. I tried not to make a sound and cover it up with the pillow, but I couldn't. I felt weak from lack of oxygen.

No way. I thought. I'm not going to keep being this sick.

I stood up and walked into the office. I was ready to get shot or be stabbed or even be pleasantly surprised at its emptiness.

I didn't expect the door to close shut behind me.

I looked around in panic.

Shit.

"Smith?" growled a voice. I recognized it. It was far scarier in the dark.

I nodded, and then realized he probably couldn't see me now there was no light filtering through the door.

"Yeah?" I asked.

Please just let him be delivering my old clothes, I begged

"Why not Camdem?" he demanded

I gave a couple of coughs. Bugger. If I collapsed in front of him it'd be the same thing all over again.

"I – cough – can't use it. Cough. Not me anymore." I sounded like an old lady.

"Why?"

"Just can't."

"Tell me!"

I shivered. It was the man beating his wife all over again. It was the people yelling as they shaved off my hair.

"I can't," I croaked.

"You will."

I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't going to cry. I wasn't going to cry.

"Can't," I gasped

He glared at me. I could see his eyes glowing in the dark. I heard his footsteps come towards me.

I dropped on the floor. My eyes were tearing up. No! Wouldn't cry! No matter what!

I coughed until I was gasping. I couldn't breath again. I felt dizzy. I needed to calm down, to get my breathing under control.

I put my head in my hands and pretended I was with Steve and we were telling each other stories again, that we were feeling. Steve had just told me a dirty joke and I was laughing. I calmed down thinking of the laughter. That was the last time I'd laughed. It sounded like music.

Then it changed and it was the men dying in the hallway while I sat and listened. While they begged and pleaded for mercy and convulsed, I lay down and did nothing but curl up in a ball. Just like I was doing now. Acting all dramatic and useless.

I opened my eyes again.

There was a torch shining in my face. I couldn't see past it.

Not again. I groaned. I'd had enough of this. I reached up and tried to slap it away but someone caught my wrist.

They didn't let go.

"Why not Camdem?" asked the voice.

It was no less harsh than before, but I didn't let it bring up flashbacks this time.

"That's none of your business."

"It is. Where is Ben Camdem?" he demanded

He knew that much? How much of the truth did he know?

"Don't know. I ran off. Haven't seen him and my brother in over a year." I croaked.

I needed a glass of water.

"And your mother?"

I didn't want to talk about what happened to my mum. I stared at the hand holding my wrist. I was probably being dramatic again, but I swear I felt my wrist twinge.

He didn't get any nicer when I didn't answer him

"Your mother?" He demanded in a voice of quiet venom.

It was scarier that way. It reminded me of Him, but never mind who he is.

My eyes grew wet. No more drama. I thought to myself. Just get over it. My breathing had sped up again. I needed water or something to calm me down. I tried to struggle out of his grip. I couldn't of course. I needed water or something. My breathing was speeding up. I tried to slow it down. It wasn't working. It was like an asthma attack. I tried my best not to panic. I looked at the batman. He may have just sounded like Him, but he couldn't be all bad. Please don't let him be all bad.

"Help." I croaked.

He glared at me. My breathing got worse. I tried to cough but couldn't. There wasn't enough air. I was feeling dizzy again when I felt something jam into my mouth. It pumped air into me and I relaxed in relief.

I opened my eyes. He was looking at me. Not glaring, just looking. I sat for a few minutes. Its very uncomfortable being stared at by a crazy vigilante dressed as a bat and whom you know is smarter than you.

I wasn't stupid. I'd seen on the news how the bat supposedly developed the joker gas antidote. I believed it too. He wasn't just a brute; he was smart as well. And now he was staring at me. God knows what he was thinking.

When my breathing had slowed and my heart wasn't racing so much, I removed the thing from my mouth.

"Thanks." I croaked.

"You still didn't answer." He growled

"I can't talk about my mum." I looked him in the face. I wanted him to understand this. I didn't want to have to bring it up.

"You don't have to worry about her though." I whispered

I finally managed to take my wrist out of his grip. I crawled across to the computer.

He followed.

The computer was already turned on. In fact, it already had my file open. Batman must've opened it. He'd opened something else as well; it looked like the data history. I'd seen it before when my dad had been hacking.

So batman was a computer whiz and a chemistry/microbiology expert.

Great. I was way out of my league.

I looked at the data history. It was encoded, but I could pick out bits here and there. I recognized the word delete and I recognized my medical records file.

"They deleted my file?" I asked

Batman nodded.

"Too expensive to look after me, I guess." I coughed out a couple more times.

Damn my throat hurt. I needed water.

"I have a friend who might help you out." He said quietly.

I bit my tongue. I didn't want to meet anyone who had managed to become friends with the Bat. That batman had friends was surprising. But I didn't say that. I valued my skin too much. He could probably read it of my face anyway.

"Pack your stuff. They'll pick you up tomorrow."

I turned around and he was gone, but he'd left his breather thing on the desk. I guess he didn't want me dead or he wouldn't have left it.

I crawled back up the stairs to bed. It was a long time before I fell asleep.

The next day I woke up late. It was a good thing because I'd barely slept. I was going to pack up my stuff and move on with whoever came and collected me. Not like I had much to pack.

I got myself a plastic bag and packed my pajamas and my other pair of clothes. That was pretty much it, and technically they belonged to the children's home. I wasn't sure if I'd be allowed to keep them. The dorm room was empty except for me. I usually spent my day in bed anyway, so I didn't really know its other inhabitants. I didn't even have to say goodbye. There wasn't anything I was leaving behind but I couldn't help but be scared of where I was going.


Thankyou to Brittany Brown and Leighgion for reviewing.

The next chapter is the final chapter.

There may be a sequel or some one shots. let me know if you think i should post them.