Alfred Pennyworth had seen a lot in his life. Working with Batman had it's advantages and disadvantages, and seeing all the horrible outcomes were certainly in the latter category. He thought he had seen it all: murder victims killed in common ways or otherwise, strange motivations of crimes. He'd even saw some of the most bizarre and truly insane crimes, from mutant plant men to those ghastly fish. True he had his own adventures to tell, from the time when those comedians were brainwashed, to when he was kidnapped by Red Claw and his worse experience was with Poison Ivy but he had never expected to come across anything like this.

He looked at what was inside the crate and yet he could hardly believe it. Inside was the Joker. Well not really; he knew better than that, but the resemblance was uncanny. The child lowered his arms and looked back at him. The child's eyes were wide, but he couldn't read any expression in them. They were glazed over, as if he was looking at something beyond himself, that only he could see. His face...it was painful to look at it. Alfred had seen so many twisted faces from the Joker's murdered victims. The ones that were lucky enough to survive those attacks had permanent facial nerve damage. The child's face was twisted and distorted in such a painful expression of 'joy'. The skin was just as white, the hair just as dark emerald green with red ruby lips...but that laugh. That laugh was more...sick. There wasn't any other way of describing it. The child finally focused on him, and tried to huddle further within the box. Alfred lowered the flashlight beam and said:

"Here now my lad," he said gently, as if he was coaxing a injured animal, "don't be alarmed." The child only breathed harder.

"I'm terribly sorry that I hit you," he said, "and I need to make sure that you are unharmed. Won't you come out so I can see if you are alright?" The child didn't move. He wasn't going to give up though, there was not a chance in all the world that he would leave this child alone.

"Come now," he said backing away, "I mean you no harm. I'll give you plenty of room to come out." He stood patiently still, waiting for the child to make the next move.

J.J. didn't know what to do. He sat there looking at Alfred. This was bad. This was really bad. This was the next worse case scenario that could have happened. Alfred would want to take him to either the hospital or to the police, he wasn't stupid. However, Alfred would stand there all night if he had to. What choices did he have? Perhaps, when they got in the car, and they drove a little ways away he'd jump out. He could also get out of the crate and try to make his escape. There wasn't much choice. He slowly got out of the crate and looked up at Alfred. He expected to see disgust or pity on Alfred's face, but he looked just as stern and proper as usual.

"There's a good lad." said Alfred and walked closer and...blocked his escape out of the alley. Great, just great. Alfred gently placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and looked him over. He didn't seemed hurt from the accident, but feeling his shoulders he could tell that he was terribly thin. He took a closer look at the boy's face and neck. It was hard to tell with that large grin and the black circles around his eyes to see if he was thin, but his neck was so thin that he could see the small muscles underneath the white skin.

"There now," he said taking his hands off the boy, he didn't want to frighten him away, "you seem to be well in order. You look like you could stand a decent meal however, I'd like to take you someplace safe and we can see if we can get you something to eat."

'Stranger danger,' popped inside his head, and he could feel another laugh building up. He fought it though, it was bad enough that Alfred was looking at him as he was. He chocked it back down and took a step back.

"It will be alright," Alfred said to him, placing a gentle hand behind him and slowly pushed him toward the street, "I promise you that." J.J. looked up at him. He could push Alfred away and make a break for it...but that would just make Alfred tell Batman all the quicker. He didn't want to hurt Alfred either. Alfred was the closest thing to a grandpa he ever had, and there was no way he could hurt Alfred. That's why he couldn't tell him who he was...or rather, who he had been. He felt himself start to walk. He looked down and indeed he was walking. It was still strange, not being fully in control anymore. He looked around the street to see where he was, now that he wasn't in a panic. He didn't recognize the street and he hadn't been hear earlier. At least his belongings were safe for the moment. Alfred opened the car and stood there waiting for him to crawl inside. He looked up at Alfred again, mulling the idea of running away again but Alfred looked down at him with a reassuring smile. He sighed and slowly got inside the car.

The door closed behind him and he looked around inside. He hadn't been in this particular car before. This was an older car, much older. He expected the seats to be upholstered with leather, but instead were linen. The pattern on them reminded him of an old lady's curtains, or wallpaper. Alfred had climbed inside the drivers side of the car. He recalled what the car looked like...a Rolls Royce? Maybe it was one of the old Rolls Royce that was in Bruce's collection. What was it called again, the Phantom or something like that? The car muttered back to life and he could feel that they were in motion. He looked into the drivers compartment and saw that Alfred wasn't looking at him. He reached for the door handle and pulled on it. Locked. He tried the other door, and again locked. How was that possible in this car? He didn't think that older cars had locks on them. He sunk into the seat, hugging himself again. He was trapped now, Alfred was taking him either to the hospital or to the police station and there wasn't anything he could do to prevent it.

Alfred looked into the rear view mirror and saw the boy curled up in the seat and rocking slightly back and forth. He was obviously scared. Alfred put his eyes back onto the road. What to do with the boy? He could take him to the police, but he felt that would only make things worse at the moment. There would be plenty of time for the police. Perhaps the hospital, the boy was thin, and who knew what was still racing in his system. That could cause a rise out of the boy though, he was nervous enough with him as it was. Alfred thought long and hard, and decided where the best place to take the boy to was.

Montoya looked up at the old asylum, left to rot when the city built the new high-security complex. It had seemed to be a better building. It had less escapes than the old Arkham did, much less. The building had been put on a man-made island in the middle of a lake deep within the mountains. Out of sight and out of mind. This one had been a revolving door. As soon as one super criminal was put it, was just as soon as they escaped. She felt so uneased, looking up at it, as if it still had lunatics inside...perhaps it did. Her thoughts were sidetracked when she heard Bullock loudly eating his sandwich. She looked over at him with slight disgust, after all these years working with him she was still not use to his eating habits.

"When's backup arriving?" he asked with food still in his mouth.

"Gordon said that he would get it to us as fast as he could," she said.

"This is nuts," he said wiping his greased covered hands onto his coat, "why would the Joker pick this of all places as a hideout?"

"That's probably it right there," she said looking back up at the ruined place, "who would want to come back here?" Bullock was about to say something when he saw a light out of the corner of his eye. The familiar red and blue flashing was coming down the road.

"Finally," he said getting out of the car, "took those knuckleheads long enough." Montoya got out of the car as well, but was surprised to see only one police car approaching. The car stopped right next to theirs, the driver stepping out.

"Commissioner," asked Bullock shocked, "what are you doing here? I thought you were sendin' us backup."

"I have," he said walking up to them with his hands in his pockets, "I've called in..."

"Don't tell me,' Bullock said already annoyed, "you called your pet freak?"

"Batman has had more experience with the Joker in the field that any of us combined," Gordon said looking hard at him, "and is still alive to say so." Bullock folded his arms in protest.

"Are you sure that this is the smartest thing to do right now Jim," he said looking hard at him, "with Robin missin' and all? What if the freak goes to far, crosses the line? He's always been a few bats short of a belfry if you ask me." Gordon looked at him.

"I really don't know. We'll worry about that if and when, but right now," he said looking hard at his two detectives, "I need you two focused. If the Joker and Harley Quinn are in there, who knows what they've set up in there."

"Yes sir but," Montoya said cautiously, "why are you here, sir?" Gordon looked at her.

"I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly." he said and turned away. 'He's worried about Batman going to far,' she realized, 'it's not just Bullock.' She looked down the road and could hear more vehicles approaching. The Batmobile in all of it's glory zoomed toward them, followed by two motorcycles. It had been a long time since she had seen Nightwing, but she was glad to see him. Batgirl was the second motorcyclist. She removed her helmet and looked at the police officers. She looked tired, she and Nightwing. It wasn't their faces that gave it away, but their body language. Their movements were slow and sluggish for them. The didn't hop immediately off their bikes and run toward them like usual, but they got off them like normal people and walked up to them. It was strange. Batman didn't jump out of the car, it seemed that he was doing something inside. Soon though, the car's hood slid back and reviled the Dark Knight. He jumped out and marched over to them.

"As you know," Gordon said to the three costumed crime fighters, "we have reason to believe that the Joker and Harley Quinn are hiding out inside the old Arkham building." Batgirl looked toward the building on the hill.

"Seems appropriate somehow." she said. Batman looked at the building as well. He was killing two birds with one stone. He hadn't even considered looking for Robin in this forgotten place. He was kicking himself for doing so. It was probably the first place he should have looked. If they found Robin here, that would be victory enough. If all they found was the Joker and Quinn, it would only give him something to take his frustration out on.

"We'll go in the front," Batman said looking at Jim, "you three wait here until we drag those maniacs out."

"Not this time," Gordon said flatly, "this time we all go in together."

"I know what we're up against," Batman said coldly, "you'll just get in our way."

"I insist we go in together." Jim said just as cold looking hard at Batman. The four were dumbfound, they had never seen this before. Gordon had always trusted Batman and Batman always treated Jim with respect. The two leaned in closer to each other.

"Let me handle this." Batman whispered threateningly.

"I will, but not alone," Jim whispered back, "I don't want you out of my site. You're on edge, and I don't want to have to arrest you if you do anything more illegal than usual. Let me help." Nightwing was the only one at the right angle to read their lips. 'Jim's worried,' he thought, 'probably a good thing he's here.' Batman continued to glare down at Gordon, but then backed away.

"Fine. We'll all go in, but you three stay in the back while we'll go in front." He walked past them and headed up the road toward Arkham. The five others followed quietly behind for a bit, when Bullock looked over at Nightwing.

"Any luck finding the kid?"

"Not yet." Nightwing said quietly.

"We've searched everywhere in Gotham," Batgirl said, "this is the last place we haven't checked. Batman's...upset with himself for not thinking about it sooner."

"That's why we're here," Gordon said, "I could tell he was upset when I told him. I knew he may try something, especially if we find Robin here." Nightwing and Batgirl looked down, but Bullock said to him,

"Don't worry Commish," he said pulling out his gun, "I'll keep a close eye on him." Gordon slowly nodded. He never thought that he would have to keep a eye on his old friend. He had bent the rules for him. Looked away from other laws to allow him to continue to operate in Gotham, but if Batman crossed the line...he'd have no choice but to arrest him. If something did happen tonight to have that happen, it would be his last thing he would do as Commissioner and he would retire in shame. They approached the old large doors to Arkham, surprisingly they were in great condition. Batman didn't miss a beat and kicked the doors open and they all continued inside.

What to do, what to do? He didn't know how to get out of this. He looked up and saw that Alfred was talking on a cell phone. He tried to listen to the conversation, but it was muffled.

'He must be talking to Gordon, or the staff at the hospital.' he thought. Panic started to settle in, he didn't want all those doctors or police looking at him and laughing at him. Without thinking he tried to desperately open the door. When it wouldn't he started to slam the door with his body. Alfred took notice of this and switched on the two-way speaker.

"I know it's been a long drive," he said calmly "but we're nearly there, and please do stop tearing at the side paneling of the door," he said as he watched the child rip desperately at the linen interior, "it is the original interior, after all." J.J. stopped tearing at the door and sunk down onto the car's floor and held the sides of his head in desperation.

'I should have run,' he thought, 'I should have run. Why didn't I run? This is so stupid. Why did I get into the car? Why was I running in the first place, why can't I control myself anymore? Why, why, why...' he stopped thinking when he felt his head slam into the door of the car. He pulled back and looked around and felt his head.

'That poor boy.' thought Alfred. He had watched that wretched child rock back and forth on floor of the car while slamming his head into the side of the door, laughing all the while. The child appeared to realize what he had been doing and stopped. He was glad he made that phone call in advance. He looked ahead and pressed a button on the console of the car. It suddenly got darker inside the car. J.J. stood back up and looked out the windows. It looked like they had pulled into a cave, then he felt the familiar dips and turns. It couldn't be. There was now way that he would bring him here. Then the light came back and he looked out the window on the other side of the car. It was true: Alfred had brought him to the cave. He couldn't believe it. He was feeling a weird mix of pure joy and absolute terror. He so wished that he could see the cave one last time...he had a fleeting feeling that he had wished that several times while with the Joker. He felt the car come to a stop, and could see that Alfred was getting out of the car. Alfred came around to the door that J.J. had destroyed and opened it up, looking at the damages. He didn't say anything about it though, he was convinced it was an accident. The boy had stayed where he sat, looking at him.

"Come on out young man," he said calmly but full of command, "I promise that nothing will happen here." Of course he knew that, but he didn't want to face Bruce and the others. He listened, he didn't hear anything. Sure he could hear the water and the bats and the dripping stalactites, but no sounds of keyboard clicking or the gymnastic equipment in use or even the training course. He slowly came out of the car and looked around. There was nobody around. They were out. He sighed in relief. He felt Alfred grab his hand and started to lead him toward the medical bay of the cave. He'd been here a couple of times before, Alfred was the one who usually patched everybody up, unless it was more serious than that. He looked at the medical equipment. It was clean and in order. It felt weird to see it clean. Flashes of dirty scalpels and needles flashed in his mind, along with other memories. He tired to look at something else, but that just seemed to trigger another memory that danced horribly in his eyes. He held onto Alfred's hand with both of his, his only anchor in reality and he wasn't about to let it go. He felt the grip tighten on his own hand and he looked up, only to see the Joker looking down at him with a wicked grin.

"Ready to play 'Operation' again son, you know it's my favorite game." he said cruelly. It wasn't real, he tried to convince himself that it wasn't real and he buried his face into what he assumed was the Alfred's side. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the laughter. It echoed horribly inside the cave and in his head. He felt himself being shook by the shoulders and he opened his eyes. Alfred had dropped down on one knee and had been shaking him to get his attention. J.J didn't look at him, he was too busy looking for the Joker, perhaps he had imagined shooting him after all and had come for his revenge. The laughter was still echoing inside the cave, causing the bats to fly around.

"You need to stop this at once," Alfred was saying to him very sternly, "you need to get yourself under control." He looked at Alfred and realized that it wasn't the Joker laughing, but himself. He tried to slow himself, it was fairly easy this time because he was short of breath. He didn't stop entirely, just to the point it was soft chuckling. He looked down, absolutely humiliated. It really was the worst thing. He had no control over it. He couldn't even look Alfred in the face after that. He felt himself being lifted up and placed onto something. He looked down and saw that Alfred had brought the stretcher to him and was wheeling him toward the medical bay.

"There we are now," he said still as prim and proper, as if nothing had happened, "now you just rest here for now. I've something to attend to for the moment, but I'll still be here and will be back to check on you." he walked over to the curtain and pulled it closed, concealing him behind it. He felt better now that he was hidden.

'That was so embarrassing,' he thought to himself, 'he must think I'm a freak...even though I am one.' He listened and could hear Alfred typing on a keyboard. There was no way sneaking around him right now. He laid down on the stretcher. It was better to wait. Who knew when Batman would be back. Sometimes he would be gone for days on end. When Alfred left him alone, he would sneak out. He sat there in the darkness; for the first time in a long time he started to feel safe. He did know nothing bad would happen here, nothing ever had. He wasn't even laughing anymore. He had to work on that, he couldn't go around forever laughing like that. He heard something. It sounded like someone was entering the cave. He sat up and heard Alfred get up to greet whoever it was.

"It's so good of you to come on such short notice Doctor." Alfred said.

'Doctor?' he thought. His question was quickly answered.

"I know it's bad when you call me personally Alfred," Dr. Leslie Thompkins said in her usual business-like manner, "but you could have told me what it was. Honestly Alfred, you're becoming more and more like him. Always rushing and never getting into the facts."

"I'm terribly sorry," he said, "but this I felt was a very delicate situation. I didn't want to upset the boy."

"Boy, what boy," she asked, "it's not one of the others? Is it Robin," she asked eagerly, "did you finally found him?" Alfred sighed.

"Unfortunately that search goes on," he said; J.J. saw his hand grab the curtain, "however, I did bump into this lad instead." Alfred opened the curtain. J.J. looked at Dr. Thompkins. He saw her expression change from calm curiosity to masked shock. He could even hear her gasp. He looked away. Was it really that bad? He wanted to sink into the earth. He felt like a sideshow freak. He remembered when he had to get stitches on his leg and she had patched him up in this very spot. She kept a calm, firm voice. It wasn't too warm of a voice, but he still could feel that she had been worried. She walked up to him and held his chin in her hand and made him look up at her.

"Where did you find him?" she asked Alfred, her voice in that familiar calm tone.

"Near Seventh Street," Alfred said, "about five blocks away from Park Row. I was on my way back home from grocery shopping"

'Really, that far?' he thought to himself. At least he knew where to go now.

"How did you find him," she asked turning toward Alfred.

"It's as I told you," he said sadly, "I literally bumped into him with the Phantom. I was worried that I had hit a dog at first, but then I saw him. I wasn't going very fast and he seems to not be in any pain." She turned and looked at him.

"Are you in any pain," she asked him, "if you are can you show me where?" He looked at her and shook his head.

"I'm afraid that the lad does not speak." Alfred said to her. She nodded to him and turned on the lights in the bay. The lights were bright and illuminated everything. She turned back to him and said:

"I'm going to have to make sure that you're not hurt inside. I need you to take off your shirt and vest. Is that Ok?" He looked at her, but didn't make a move to take them off.

"It's easier for me to look and feel without your shirt on," she said gently, "I need them off. Don't worry, we'll give them back." It was strange, she was talking more and more gently with him. As if she was talking to a very small child. It annoyed him. He looked down and started to unbutton his vest. When he got it done, he felt his coat being taken off of him. He looked up and saw that Alfred had taken it. He then felt Lesley take his vest off and undo his bow tie. Now he was getting mad, he could do this himself. He didn't need their help. He went to push her away when he felt Alfred try to lift his shirt over his head. He raised his arms so that it would just be done and over with. The two adults looked down at the boy's scarred body. It truly was a sad sight to see. The boy's ribs were visible, and his shoulder blades stuck out so badly; so many scars.

"Alright," Lesley said, "I need you to lie down so I can feel your insides." He looked at her, and did as he was told, but he still felt uneasy. He didn't feel good there and he didn't want her hurting him. She put latex free gloves on and started to feel around his ribs, gently pushing on them.

"His ribs seem to be fine," she said to him, "I don't feel any broken ones." She started to move down and she pressed firmly down, feeling all around. He tried not to laugh, he didn't want to do it now but every time she pressed down it felt like it would just burst out. It just tickled so badly that it sort of hurt and it hurt so badly that it tickled. That was funny.

"I don't feel any pockets of fluid," she said, "I don't feel much of anything. I don't think he's had much to eat lately. It's obvious that he's malnourished," she felt lower down and pressed firmly again, "I think he's at the beginning stages of Kwashiokor. A blood test will tell us that." she gave one last push down and he couldn't stop it, it just popped out. The laugh came out like a bark, causing her to jump and take a step back. He sat up and covered his mouth. This time it wasn't his fault, she'd pushed it out. She composed herself quickly and looked at Alfred.

"I'd like to run some blood tests. I want to find out what's going on inside, this maybe just a new strain of Joker Venom we have on our hands."

"Very good, doctor." Alfred said and turned to prepare the necessary equipment. Leslie turned back to J.J. and looked at him. She had seen more than one case of child neglect, some of them weren't intentional but most of them where not. They were always hard to work on. She looked at him, he was awfully thin.

"Alright now," she said to him, "jump down and we'll see how much you weigh." He adjusted his suspenders and did as he was told. He remembered when Barbra thought she had gained weight and would constantly check it almost every day. He changed the scale so it read ten pounds too much...she nearly killed him when she found out. He stepped on the scale and watched Lesley move the weights around. She didn't say anything, but wrote down the weight in her clipboard, along with other notes.

"Alright, you can put back on your shirt if you want to," she said to him, "but leave the coat off for a moment. When you're done jump back up onto the stretcher and we'll get some samples from you." He nodded to show he understood her. She walked away to join up with Alfred.

"I have a feeling he may fight us on this," she said to him, "so I'm going to need you to hold him, if you have to." Alfred nodded in agreement.

"I have the same feeling," he said to her, "from what I've seen, he's not in complete control of himself."

J.J. watched them whisper to each other. Of course he knew what a blood test was and what was needed...he had them before in the past but for whatever reason, he was very nervous about it. They approached him, and he saw what was in Leslie hands was the needle for the test. Looking at it just made him feel so sick. He didn't want the test done anymore. He felt Alfred put his hands on his shoulders while Lesley put the latex strip around his arm. He started to hyperventilate, wanted to squirm away. He watched as Leslie washed his arm with alcohol. He tried to slip away, but Alfred took a firm grip around his waist. Alfred steadied his prepared arm, so he wouldn't jerk it away when she was ready.

"I need you to be brave now," she said looking at him, "just hold still and it will be over soon." It was pointless saying anything to him she saw. His eyes were looking a million miles away at nothing. She quickly inserted the needle and started filling the vials with blood. Even his blood looked wrong...it was dark and thick. She finished and removed the needle, trying to block out that horrible laughter. She had treated Joker Venom victims in the past and it was always hard to block out the laughter. She labeled the vials and put them down. She looked back and saw that Alfred was trying to talk him back to reality. His laughter soon quieted down and it seemed that he had 'come back' as it were.

"There now," she said to him, "was that so bad? Just a simple little blood withdraw." She put the vials into a centrifuge and turned it on. She was writing down more notes on her clipboard. J.J. was getting more nervous. She was going to take him to the hospital...he just knew it. Soon the centrifuge stopped spinning and she removed one of the vials. She walked over to a machine and inserted it into it. The machine started to feed information to the batcomputer. She typed in some commands and the computer started to analyze the blood.

"I'm processing the blood to find out what's in his system right now," she said turning back to Alfred, "I'd trust this computer to work faster than my own equipment. After we find out the new strain of Joker Venom is in him, we can administer an antidote. Then after he, uh, clears up I'll check him into the hospital." Alfred nodded.

"I also have the computer checking his DNA profile. If his blood is in any system, we'll know who he is."

'Uh-oh. That's not good.' He looked at the computer and sighed, there was nothing he could do about it now but just to wait and take the consequences. As they waited, she continued her examination; writing down his blood pressure, listening to his lungs. She took detailed notes, writing down everything that would be useful future references. The computer was whirling with the information it was getting and soon started beeping that it had finished processing the blood. It printed out the results. Leslie ripped off the page and looked at it, then looked at it harder.

"This can't be right." she said to herself. She took another vile and ran it through the machine again.

"What's wrong, doctor?" asked Alfred.

"I'm hoping it's a computer glitch," she said to Alfred, "but one thing is for sure, his DNA is too damaged right now to give a positive ID, or perhaps he's not in any computer system." J.J. sighed, his luck started to return to him. His blood must be too damaged right now...his DNA profile was definitely in the batcomputer's files. The computer finished again and reprinted the results. She looked at them again, and sighed. She walked over to them and said:

"I'm sorry, but there is no trace of any Joker Venom within him. There are traces of other chemicals, anesthetics, and even the Scarecrow's fear toxin...but no Joker Venom."

"Which means?" asked Alfred.

"I'm afraid," she said looking down at the boy and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, "that your condition might be permanent. I think the Joker must have used the same chemicals that turned him on this boy."

"My word." gasped out Alfred. J.J. looked down...so, it couldn't be fixed. He would just have to dye his hair and ware makeup everyday...that's all. He had already accepted it awhile ago, so it wasn't such a blow, but still. To be told by a doctor was still harsh. Then again, she did say 'might be', so there was a slight chance that it could still be fixed. He looked back up at Leslie and she smiled back at him, putting on a brave face.

"He seems to be stable for now," she said reading the notes, "and I would like to take him and check him into the hospital, but I think he's had enough excitement for tonight. I'm sure Batman wouldn't mind a guest for awhile. If anyone can figure out anything about his condition, it's Batman." she said with a smile on her face.

"You're letting the boy stay here?" asked Alfred raising an eyebrow. This was most peculiar for her.

"I think he's more comfortable here for now, and this system is more high-tech than what the hospital has," she pointed to the paper, "He's extremely weak right now; after he calms down and recuperates here for a day or so then I'll feel more confident in moving him to the hospital. I'm honestly worried about him fighting about going to the hospital and then going into shock if I took him there now."

"Do you have any orders for me, doctor?" asked Alfred.

"Make sure that he eats something," she said to him, "but make sure it's mild and that he drinks plenty of fluids, and make sure he gets a good nights sleep. Tomorrow make sure he stays in bed and doesn't overdo things. If his condition changes at all, call me and I'll come. I'll return the day after tomorrow to pick him up and take him to the hospital, and I want to make sure that I check him it. I'd like to personally take care of this."

"Very well," Alfred said, "I'll do all as you've said. Thank you again for coming." Leslie gathered her belongings and then turned back to Alfred.

"Let me know when you find Robin," she said, "and I hope it won't be for a medical emergency."

"We will," Alfred said, "shall I see you to the door, Doctor?"

"It's alright Alfred," she said with a smile, "I know my way out. Good night to you both." J.J. quietly watched Leslie ascend the stairs. Something told him that he should just let them know; to stop them from worrying.

'No,' he thought slowly shaking his head 'it's better this way. They'll give up soon enough and they'll move on.' He watched her disappear, swinging his legs lazily as he did. As soon as she left, Alfred walked over to the batcomputer and started to type something, he couldn't tell what it was from his angle. Soon however, his curiosity was answered quickly.

"Oh dear," Alfred said reading the message, "It seems that Batman and the others won't be returning for quite some time. Apparently they're investigating a...uh, disturbance of some sort and shall be out of contact for some time." It clearly said in the message that they were looking for the Joker, but he did not want to sent the boy into a catatonic state.

'This is to perfect,' he thought, 'with Batman and Batgirl gone, I can sneak out of the cave when Alfred is asleep.' He chuckled at the thought, wanting to get back to his stuff at the old building and get out of town. It was going to be harder now that Batman would know about him...he was hoping to have at least a month ahead of him, but it was doable.

"Come along young man," Alfred said to him, "and we'll see to it that you have a proper meal." He didn't hesitate on that, that sounded too good right now. He followed Alfred closely, trying not to look like he knew where he was going. As soon as the exited the caves' hidden entrance behind the clock, he felt a lump form in his throat. He was home. He thought he'd never see it again, and yet here he was getting one last look at the place. He looked around, trying to burn the memory in. The study was always kept so clean. It always reminded him of a library. They walked down the hallway toward the kitchen and dinning hall, and he could already smell food cooking. Alfred had always made sure that there would be a warm meal waiting for them every night after fighting crime. They entered the dinning hall and he saw that the table was already set.

"I was hoping that they would be arriving shortly," Alfred said to him, "but as usual they'll have to settle for leftovers. I'm sure that this isn't too exotic for you I hope. Sit down and I'll fetch you a plate." Alfred disappeared inside the kitchen, leaving him alone. He went to sit down when he noticed that there were four plates set. Four, why four? There was Bruce, Barbra, Alfred...of course Dick. Dick must be in town as well. He looked at the extra spot.

'Alfred usually doesn't eat with us,' he thought, 'maybe he's set the extra one just in case they find Tim...or rather me.' He sat in his usual spot on the table and waited as patiently as he could. Soon Alfred came out with the plate and set it in front of him. It was a roast chicken dinner with real mashed potatoes with whole corn on the cob and green beans. He hated green beans but they looked great tonight.

"Remember what Dr. Thompkins said," Alfred said to him, "eat slowly. I'm hoping that this isn't too rich for you." He nodded and took off his gloves and coat, he didn't want to get them dirty. He picked up his fork and as slowly as he could manage he started to eat. It was hard to go slow, he just wanted to forgo the fork and just use his hands. However with Alfred watching him, he tried his best to keep his manners. It was hard with shaking hands though. Soon, the food was gone even the green beans that he hated so badly.

"Alright now," Alfred said to him, "I'll wash this up later, but let's get you clean and put to bed." He didn't want to get clean and go to bed yet, he was still hungry. He knew he ate a large plate of food, but it just didn't feel like it was enough. He sighed and followed Alfred. He lead him to the guest's quarters. He wasn't really allowed inside this room, it was only for important guests so Alfred always made sure that nobody would come in and mess it up. Alfred went inside the bathroom and started to draw up a bath for him.

"I trust that you know how to bathe yourself, sir?" He angrily nodded and folded his arms. Of course he knew how to, how old did Alfred think he was?

"Very good," he said "I'll see if I can find you proper pajamas while you bathe. I'll check on you now and then to make sure that you are doing alright." and with that Alfred left the room and closed the door. He heard a locking sound. He couldn't believe it, he walked over to the door and tried to open it...locked. Alfred locked him inside. It made him feel nervous, he didn't know why but it did. He sighed and decided that he might as well get it over with. He undressed himself and as he did, he carefully and neatly folded his clothes. He felt like if he just left them in a pile something bad would happen. Probably the same thing that kept him wearing them. He entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He went up to the bathtub and felt the water. It was a little on the warm side, but it was good enough for now. He climbed in and sat in it for a moment. He took a washcloth and foamed it up and started to wash himself. He had forgotten how nice a warm bath felt. He washed as much of himself as he could, wishing that the white would wash away but it stayed right were it was. It was going to take a long time for him to get use to it...if he ever did. He was in the middle of washing his hair when he heard a knock on his door.

"I've left your clothes on the bed for you. I trust that you're washing everything now, I hope?" He sighed, wishing he could say 'go away'.

Soon he was done washing, he even washed his face and behind his ears. He got out and drained the tub. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself. It was very stiff and scratchy, obviously not used much. He exited the bathroom and saw his pajamas. No really, they were his. An older pair, ones that he had outgrown. He picked them up and looked at them. It seemed like they would fit him again now though. He finished drying off and put the pajamas on. His arms and legs were a little too long for them, but they still looked baggy on him. He didn't realize that he had lost so much weight. He looked around and noticed that his suit was gone. He started to panic, he had just left them here. He looked inside the drawers, hoping that Alfred had put them away. Nothing in the draws. He looked around, hoping to find them. He couldn't find them and if he lost them then he was going to die. He just knew it. He was in such a rush looking for them that he didn't even see Alfred standing there; he ran into him and looked up at him. He grabbed Alfred's own clothes and started to point at them, then to himself.

"If you're worried about your clothes, don't worry," he said to him calmly, "I've taken the liberty in washing them. However I suggest that you get some sleep." Alfred had calmly watch the boy go into a fit when he couldn't find the suit. It was a sad sight, he felt so badly for this child. His recovery was gong to be a long battle indeed. J.J. pointed at the bed with a questioning look.

'What, sleep here?'

"Yes, hop into bed and I'll turn out the lights for you." He sighed and did just that. He felt incredibly small in this bed. He didn't like the feel of the mattress, it was way too stiff for his liking. The light went out and Alfred closed the door and once again locked it. That put a major dent in his grand plan. First he couldn't leave without his clothes, and now he was locked inside the room. He was hoping to be inside the cave, and could escape when Alfred left him alone down there for the night. It was never easy. He laid down and looked up at the ceiling, trying to think and plan on what to do next, but soon his thoughts dulled into nothing as he fell asleep.

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