"Yes, thank you. I'll be fine from here." Bruce assured the nurse. She had been falling over herself to help him ever since she realized who he was, but after a lifetime, he was adept at handling it.

She nodded several times smiling nervously and shut the door. Bruce dropped the fake smile.

The room was the same one he'd seen on the security feed.

Terry was at school and Mary, at work, so it was just Matt and himself. Matt McGinnis was tucked into the bed with a mask over his face and a machine breathing for him. His chart was up on the wall-screen along with his vitals. Bruce already had all of that information from his hacking the night before. The doctors had received his alert and were putting things into motion. Bruce wasn't sure if it would be enough.

Bruce remembered mentioning the meta-plague to Terry, but the boy couldn't possibly understand the enormity of it. Heroes and villains and civilians alike falling in the streets and being rushed to overcrowded hospitals. Without the antidote, anyone with the metagene had been susceptible, and with regular humans, as carriers, there had been no possibility of containment.

He had to be sure.

The reemergence of the metagene in the general population could have triggered a backlash if the virus had mutated or lain dormant. The spores could have just been attacking a weakness the virus was bringing up to the surface.

Bruce had quietly run dozens of tests on Terry, establishing a baseline. It had been the key to returning his humanity after the slicer incident. After Matt had gotten involved, he'd started to build a profile for the younger boy as well.

Bruce moved to sit on the edge of the bed and reached for the boy's hand. Matt squeezed back, his grip was weak but intentional. Bruce glanced up. Matt was awake.

Well, that was a good sign overall even if it did make things less convenient.

Matt lifted a hand weakly, tapping at the breathing mask. Bruce leaned forward and adjusted it so he could talk.

"Hi."

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"You're not surprised I'm here?" He made it a question even though Bruce was certain he was right.

Matt shrugged, "Sooner or later." He had to pause to gulp in a few breaths. "What's got me?"

"There are spores in your lungs. The doctors aren't sure how you came into contact with them yet or why they seem to be affecting you so strongly." Bruce paused, "You're not the only case."

"Is it... an attack? Terry?"

"Your brother is fine. He hasn't shown any of the symptoms." He gripped his cane, planted it firmly, and met Matt's eyes. "Have you been doing anything I should know about?"

Matt smiled weakly. "Like reading Terry's books? Or going to his dojo?"

"Something I wasn't already aware of."

Matt tried to shrug, but it was more of a twitch. "Don't think so. Only the regular sneaking around."

Bruce huffed but settled back. "I know what you're training for."

Matt's eyes flew open from where they'd started to droop. "Terry?"

"Has been very distracted."

"Good, don't tell him yet. He'll be pissed."

"Yes, he will. He has every right to be." Bruce let his voice drop into the old gravely register. "But he's not the one you should be worried about."

"I can do it." Matt whispered through the breathing mask He was fading again. Bruce knew there wasn't much point in having this conversation right now. It would either be forgotten or pushed aside once the boy was back on his feet. He shook his head.

"I need to take a blood sample, then you can get some more sleep."

Matt offered his arm. Bruce took a set of vials from an inner pocket, disinfected a spot at the curve of his elbow, and filled two.

Matt pressed a hand against the vein. "I'm gonna be okay right?" His voice sounded younger than it had the whole conversation. In that moment, he looked even younger than he was and Bruce felt every one of his years hang heavy on his frame.

"Your brother and I are going to make sure of it." Bruce reached forward, brushing his fingers over Matt's dark hair. The boy nodded and let his eyes close.

It had been a long time since Bruce had tried to comfort a child. Seeing Matt like this, terrified and trusting, brought back so many memories. He'd had so much, and lost so much. If he couldn't save this boy, no one would blame him except himself. Maybe Terry.

He'd pushed them all away for a reason.

He would make sure Matt go better, but after that they were done. He would cut off the boy's access to the cave and its systems. He wasn't going to let yet another child follow his path into the dark.

Brian could feel the rose from three blocks and two levels away. Feel wasn't quite right; it was like the sun on his skin, no pressure, but there all the same. He could feel other things too; little things, green things. Since the guy had died, he'd been felt more then he'd thought possible. If he stood still for too long, moss started growing around his shoes.

The rose would help. It had to help. Why else would he be able to feel it so strongly?

The domed park was sparsely populated in the middle of a weekday. Nannies with strollers and homeschooled kids gathered around the play structure. The field was empty though, so he cut across it, looping around the bathrooms at a run. He hit the guy as he was turning the corner and started to fall. He caught his balance. The greenhouse was in sight.

"Sorry." He called out, pushing off the ground.

The guy caught his arm and Brian really looked at him for the first time. His heart sank. He was younger then Brian had first thought, a highschooler maybe, and he had a bright red seven spray-painted on his shirt.

"Not good enough dreg. How you gonna make it up to me?"

Brian tugged, twisting his arm, trying to get away.

"Hey what you got, Brick?"

Slag it! There were more of them. Brian's eyes danced over the short blond woman and a black guy with white lines tattooed on his arms.

"This twip just bumped into me. Gonna teach him some manners." Brick yanked on Brian's arm again. Brian started to lose his footing, then leaned into it. The kick connected with Brick's leg. He let go in surprise.

Brian stumbled again. Someone was cursing. He saw the greenhouse and it was like the clouds parting on a rainy day. He ran for it.

They were faster.

Brian slapped a hand against the glass, and one of them slammed into him. They spun him by the shoulders and shoved him up against the door. The black guy bent down and sneered at him.

"Think you can just hurt my friend like that and run?"

Brian hunched his shoulders. He knew what was coming and he couldn't stop it. Nothing ever stopped it.

The fist connected with a starburst of pain. Brian gasped. His vision whited out. There was a ringing sound like glass breaking, and the guy dropped him. He fell to his knees. His vision was still fuzzy but he could see the green of the grass, perfectly maintained here in the upper levels even in the dead of winter.

"What the kriff?"

Brian sucked in a breath and dared a look upward. They should have been kicking him by now; instead, they were staring at something over his shoulder. This time the crunch of breaking glass was clear and accompanied by the sound of twisting metal.

Green.

Leaves had broken through the glass. Vines were curling around the doorframe and twisting it. They were reaching out with thorn and root.

Brian reached up and touched the edge of a leaf as it turned to the sun. He felt it. Felt his own fingers tracing over the stem as if it was his skin. Felt the push of fast growth and stretch that was so good but couldn't possibly be sustained. Felt the rush of pain as something sparked at the edge of the new growth and pushed back.

"No." he snarled as he turned. The blond had her hands out and they were glowing, yellow sparks falling from her fingers.

"It's the twip. He's feeding the weeds somehow." She called. The other two were behind her, fear being overtaken by anger on their faces.

She was right.

Brian didn't know how or why but she was right. The plants were his, the rose was his, and he was theirs. They were alive and he was alive and these dregs weren't going to push him around, not anymore.

"This weed has thorns," he whispered and pushed.

The vines answered his call and shot forward. A hundred tendrils adding seasons worth of growth in seconds. Green overcame his vision until he couldn't see anything but the twisting leaves. His roses fought for a few more minutes, then the grass felt running feet.

He let out a breath.

The rose was there; a presence even over the green all around him. In the back of his mind, he heard a low feminin voice whisper - well done.

The next time Matt woke up, it was Terry sitting in the visitor chair. He had his datapad out and was biting his lip at whatever was on the screen. The beeping of the machines picked up a notch and his brother looked up.

"Matty hey. how are you feeling?" Terry reached out, stroking a hand over Matt's hair, and adjusting the mask so he could talk.

"Thirsty?" His throat made the work a rasp.

Terry found a water bottle and gave him the straw. Matt closed his eyes as he drank and tried to fix where he was in his mind. He had to be Terry's little brother. He had to be afraid and confused which he was. He just couldn't show the determination under it.

"What happened?" Matt asked.

Terry hesitated, taking the water bottle back. "You're gonna be okay." He said instead of answering the question. "Mr. Wayne knows some great doctors and they're going to get you feeling better real soon."

Matt licked his lips. He didn't want to hide. He didn't want Terry to hide from him. It hurt. Sure being a secret had helped before, but Mr. Wayne had to have safeguards in place by now. It would be so easy to open his mouth and say something.

He took a breath and it hurt, like hundreds of paper cuts in his lungs. He coughed, then couldn't stop; desperately trying to suck in air between the wracking spasms. He reached up, but the mask wasn't working. Then Terry was there twisting a knob and fitting the mask back over Matt's mouth and nose. The oxygen was laced with something cool. After a few gasps it kicked in and he was able to take a deep breath.

Matt turned to his brother, meaning to thank him. Terry was looking down at his hands, a hard expression on his face. There was a spattering of red mist over his fingers. A chill went through Matt. Was it really so bad, that he was coughing up blood? What did that mean? It had to be bad, right?

There was a knock on the door, then a nurse entered before either of them could respond.

"Hello, looks like we had a spike in our vitals just now. I'm just going to make sure everything fine." She barely glanced at them, bustling over the machines and checking the readouts.

Matt caught Terry's gaze and made big worried puppy dog eyes. It wasn't as much of an act as he would have liked.

Terry cleared his throat and glanced at the nurse. "My brother's going to be okay, right?"

"Hmm, What?" the nurse glanced at Terry with a distracted smile. "Oh, yes, I wouldn't worry too much. He's in excellent hands and we caught it much earlier than the other cases that are coming in. He's got very good chances."

She didn't seem to notice how Terry stiffened but Matt did.

"Well, looks like a false alarm. Try not to speak too much. It'll put more stress on your lungs and throat." The nurse turned and gave them a nod, "Try using a tablet if you need to say something longer." They nodded. She didn't wait to see if there was anything else they needed, just busted out of the room.

Terry hadn't relaxed. Matt squeezed his hand. Terry squeezed back and tried to smile, but it was easy to see it was fake.

It was almost a relief when Terry's phone buzzed. He answered it without looking, and after a minute of silence, cursed.

"I'll be there." Terry hung up and turned to Matt. "I've got to go, but I'm going to call Max and have her look in on you and Mom said she's going to come by as soon as she's off work. Why don't you get some sleep in the meantime?" This time the smile was more distracted then forced.

Matt nodded. The city needed Batman more than he needed his brother.