A/N: My sincerest apologies for having taken this long to update. I lost my inspiration to write for some time. Am now trying to get it back. Do bear with me as I attempt to regain my footing.

Comments and feedback: Greatly appreciated. Thank you!

Full Circle
Chapter Seven:

It had been months since the incident with the taser, and Shea hoped that her surrogate parents would have forgotten that and allowed her more freedom outside of home. To all appearances, they seemed to have to.

Hadn't taken her too long to heal up, she decided. Tasers weren't meant to kill. Or, well, at least that particular one wasn't. Her aching head had stopped trying to murder her after a day or two, and, in revenge, she'd spent part of her vacation writing up her own codes to counter what she had encountered in the CRAY's maze.

The train station was not that crowded mid-morning. She'd chosen a good time to start on her journey to Wayne Manor, and had made sure that John and Alvia knew full well what she was doing. Those two had begged out of the whole exploration thing after she'd been hospitalized.

Wusses.

Well, Alvia was a spunky girl, but she stood by John too much. Ah well. They could miss out on a whole load of interesting things for all they know.

Shea smirked as she boarded the northbound train. She'd see this whole adventure through to the end, whatever it was.

Arkam Asylum was a dark place, a horrible place, filled with inmates who should have been killed simply for their committed crimes. No one should ever be used to that place.

But he had been in and out of there as a frequent visitor, to threaten, to demand information, that he'd been desensitized. At times, he wondered if he didn't belong in there himself.

Why does he do this, night after night?

His parents had long ceased to exist. But whether by the blade, by a gun, or by natural death, everyone will die eventually, courtesy of some random decision of some unknown powers.

This wouldn't be the education his parents would have given him.

He grunted slightly, rising from his crouch to leave his chosen spot for the time he'd used to make sure Arkam was functioning safely.

He understood a lot of minds, had studied them to such an intense degree he knew their owners better than they themselves did. But he didn't understand himself.

"Those who conquer others are strong. But those who conquer themselves are powerful."

Confucius.

If what that longtime-dead man said was right, maybe why he continued being Batman was because his enemies knew and understood him better than he was willing to admit, and they were merely playing him as a game of their own twisted minds.

The air smelled a little bit more moist than she remembered, and she hoped that the dampness wouldn't destroy important things before she found out what they all were.

"Hello, CRAY."

Shea settled herself and got to work instantly. She'd come prepared with food and drinks and even a sleeping bag this time.

Connecting her laptop to the CRAY, and running her maze-breaker program, she allowed herself to continue exploring from where her accident had occurred. The belt lay in the same place she'd dropped it, sprawled unceremoniously.

She nudged it carefully with her shoe, but decided to ignore it, and turned her attention to the suits.

The one in the first case was dark grey, almost slate, emblazoned with a black bat insignia on its chest. Shea poked it. Rubberish. Way too big for her.

The next three were too loud-colored to hold her interest. Bright red, green, yellow, black. Felt like some pale imitation of the Robin Hood legend.

The evidently-feminine costume caught her attention. Black, with bright yellow gloves and boots, and a yellow bat over its chest. Didn't seem too bad a style to her. Better than the flamboyance of the other three suits.

Risking things again, Shea opened the glass case, carefully not touching anything else. She lifted the suit out warily, holding it out at half-arm's length.

Slight beeping tones reached her from the CRAY, announcing its success.

"Woot."

Programs auto-ran on the CRAY, and one caught her attention. It seemed like a description of all the equipment she'd seen on the suits in the glass cases.

"One time electrical charge," she murmured, reading the blueprints, then crossing the cave to nudge the fallen belt with her shoe again. "You better be right, CRAY."

Her fear lessened as she flicked opened a compartment and reached inside with her fingers, and nothing assaulted her. She pulled out a bat-shaped piece of metal that felt sharp at its edges.

Returning to the CRAY, she searched and found a description for that object.

Batarang: basic. Used like a shuriken.

"Cool."