I don't own anything recognizable
I walked into the Monitor womb, still numb. Seeing Batman so hurt...So human...Had shaken me to my very core. I was impermeable, invulnerable to all but Kryptonite, but he was Batman. Smoke, mirrors, and lies – and when you least expected it, an iron fist. I stood in the sunlight, and took everything villains had to throw at me. Batman didn't have to – Batman planned, and made sure his enemies never got close enough to him to touch him. He shouldn't be in the infirmary, with J'onn picking pieces of warehouse out of his innards. I should have been the one inside that warehouse, I should have known it was a trap...
I was deep in thought as I sat at the keyboard. My hands moved on autopilot, entering the start codes, initiating the monitoring algorithms, moving the envelope out of the way of the left side of the keyboard...
Wait. Envelope?
I reached over and picked it up. It was heavier than it first appeared, and I had a sudden, nasty suspicion. Nothing except paper showed up when I x-rayed it, however, so I took a closer look at the envelope itself. It was high-quality, but not ostentatiously so. I flipped it over, and saw my name – both of them – on the front. I frowned, and carefully eased it open.
Nothing happened.
I reached in and pulled out the fine piece of card stock. Embossed on it was a greeting, a few simple instructions, and a caution. I scanned them quickly, then read it over again, more slowly. I straightened, and tightened my fingers on the letter. I was down in the bay warming up the Javelin before I could second-guess myself. I couldn't afford for this to be fake.
Batman couldn't afford it.