There had been only one other time in her life where she had felt this helpless, where horrid people had held her down and mutilated her. Her arm was gone and her powers were useless. And worst of all, there was nothing she could do as she watched the other victim—a paramedic, judging by her uniform—rise to her feet as per that monster's orders. Two soldiers took the paramedic and dragged her past Jocelyn.

She tried to turn her head to watch them, but heard the monster speak up. "Keep your head forward." He motioned a soldier over, and one appeared with a silver handgun. "Now here's the thing. I've got here a relatively weak gun. Low caliber, minimal kick, that kind of deal." He turned the gun to the side and nonchalantly inspected it. The soldiers stopped and held the paramedic directly behind Jocelyn. "Wouldn't be strong enough to make any exit wounds. So that means…" He raised the gun and pointed it directly at Jocelyn. "… You choose who dies, hero."

Jocelyn stared into the barrel of the gun, every muscle in her body tense. The choices ran through her head. The monster knew the Specter, knew how she could choose to save herself. But she couldn't do it, and he knew that too. On top of that, trying to cloak or any attempt to defy her captors would lead to an outcome that Jocelyn wasn't sure of, but she doubt it would be good.

"If you kill me, you'll have at least two very pissed off hunters on your trail," Jocelyn warned. "One of them is a little more loose on morals than the other. Are you sure you want to gamble on those odds?"

The monster's composure didn't change. "If Batman survived GCPD, he's going after Scarecrow and the Commissioner, not you. And if you're referring to that robot, it's gone. Along with that traitor."

No… She refused to believe him. And yet those words caused an icy grip to squeeze her heart and send dread coursing through her body. A lump rose to her throat. "Verlix is—?"

Her voice ended abruptly. For some reason, she felt the quick, sharp strike in her abdomen long before she heard the crackling bang. There was no pain, only a searing hot sensation in her stomach. The muscles around the wound were uncontrollably tense. She struggled to draw in breath.

Another sharp punch hit her. She could barely register where. There was still no pain. Her legs buckled underneath her, and she collapsed. The moment she hit the ground, her abdomen felt as though it had caught on fire. The burning was unbearable, but she could hardly move.

"For God's sake!" she heard the muffled voice of the paramedic cry out. Jocelyn felt so cold. Something warm was pooling against her arm. She slid her hand over to her side, using her numb, trembling fingers to unlatch something small from her belt. It was the only thing that could save her. But the last of her strength ebbed away, and her hand fell limply to the ground.

"Don't worry. Your turn's coming up." She could hardly keep her eyes open. Her vision was all but black anyway.

The last thing she remembered was hearing another gunshot. But this one sounded comforting for some reason…

Even when he managed to remain undetected while unlatching the vent screen, he still couldn't leave the duct without being spotted. That meant no good angles on Mortuge, and there were too many soldiers in the room to confront. The sniper rifle, made from combining his two handguns, rested uselessly against his leg.

But Jason had stalled for too long. Staying cautious had cost him. He heard the gunshot and felt his stomach drop. His eyes flew to Jocelyn. Her body was rigid, and there was a tiny red dot in her stomach. Jason nearly cried out.

And even before the initial shock wore off, she was shot again. This one took the last of her strength away. When she fell, Jason felt something familiar. The crushing, devastating feeling that told him that he failed. That he hadn't been strong enough.

And that made him furious.

At that moment, all caution, all wariness, disappeared. In a frenzy of red, Jason snatched up the sniper rifle and took aim. The second he focused his rifle, he squeezed the trigger. One of the soldiers holding the paramedic dropped like a brick. Immediately, the room exploded with alarm.

Jason emerged from the vent. A few soldiers spotted him. Before they could fire, Jason pressed the switch of a tiny device in his palm. A large explosion of smoke enveloped him. Flashes of light lit up the room and bullets flew into the smoke, but he was already gone.

A red figure emerged behind one soldier. The noise alerted the soldier, who turned around. Jason raised his rifle and bashed the butt of the weapon into the soldier's throat. When another one noticed him, Jason quickly repositioned his rifle and put a bullet through the man's skull.

He was grossly outnumbered, but cover and confusion were his allies. Jason threw the smoke device up into the air and unloaded two rounds into it. A shrill, thunder-like crack split the air as bolts of electricity and curls of smoke rippled through the air.

Even as the room quickly became enshrouded in gray, Jason could still see with his mask. Every soldier was easy pickings. And he didn't plan on leaving even one alive, not after what they did to her. He didn't care if he had once considered himself on their side. Batman saw them was criminals, but they were even lower than that. They were scum, and now they were up against someone who wasn't afraid to sink to their level.

Finally, there was only one left. One last pest to take care of. He had managed to survive this long, but that was only because Jason allowed it. Not anymore.

Even when he emerged from the smoke, Mortuge seemed to already know he was there. It was impressive, but it wasn't enough. Mortuge whirled around, knife flying towards the red mask. A hand shot out and caught the wrist in a steely grip. Jason's foot whipped out and kicked Mortuge's knee in, forcing him down in a kneel.

Leaning closing, Jason hissed, "What's wrong, Lieutenant General? Weapon spent?" How he longed to mock the bastard and draw out his death, but he knew that she was running out of time. With a cold, inhuman disposition, Jason jammed the barrel of the gun against his forehead. "I've got a few bullets left. Here, let me share them with you." He pulled the trigger. It was over.

The cruel, emotionless presence that possessed him suddenly evaporated. Jason whirled around, feeling the dull pounding of his human heart in his throat.

The paramedic was bent over her, hands pressed firmly down on the bullet wounds. Jason hurried over. The paramedic looked up at him with a terrified expression. Understandable. She had seen him just appear and start shooting up the place.

"I'm here to help," Jason said, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. He crouched by Jocelyn's unconscious body. "How is she?"

"I… I can't believe he…" the paramedic stammered. She quickly cleared her head with a firm shake. "She's lost a lot of blood." It was pooled around their knees. "She's slipping. I don't know how much longer she has. Jesus, what's happened to this city?"

Her desperate remark struck a chord with Jason, but he refused to acknowledge it. "We're losing her?" he snapped. "No. No, no, no. I won't let that happen. I'm not going to let her fucking die!" He gripped Jocelyn's hand tightly. There was something in her palm. Jason took it and opened his hand, revealing a small cylinder. On the side of the cylinder was a silver plate. With a finger, he pushed the plate. A needle poked out from one end of the cylinder.

Jason realized what it was. Maybe there was something he could do after all.

He pushed the paramedic's hands away from Jocelyn's wounds. "What are you—?" the paramedic asked as Jason took the syringe and injected its contents close to the bullet wounds.

"What did you do?" the paramedic demanded.

"It's a clotting agent," Jason explained, pulling the needle out and tossing the empty container aside. He gingerly laid a hand over Jocelyn's bloody stomach.

The paramedic shook her head. "She's already lost so much. I don't know if that'll even make a difference."

"Don't you dare say that!" Jason roared. The paramedic flinched. "We need to take her someplace safe. Are there any working hospitals, medical stations, anything?"

The paramedic shook her head. "GCPD's the only thing we have left."

"Then that's where we're going." Jason rose to his feet and walked to a nearby corpse.

"How? It's a warzone out there!"

"We'll be fine." Jason threw the scavenged car key up and caught it in a tight fist. "I'll drive. You need to stay with her." He walked back to Jocelyn and picked her delicately off the ground. As he carried her out of Garrison Hall, he gazed at her face.

I caused this mess, he thought. But I'll make things right.

Throughout this entire hellish night, she had managed to keep her cool. But now she wanted to scream. Everything was going so wrong. First she had watched as Scarecrow took her father away, and now Tim was in danger too.

As much as Barbara cared for him, she knew how worried and guilty Bruce felt. She was terrified at the thought of what lengths he would go to save Tim. And like always, there was nothing she could do but sit and wait.

Closing her eyes, Barbara rested her hands on either side of the keyboard and took a deep breath. She couldn't think like this. She had to focus on the positive things. GCPD and everyone inside, including herself, were safe. The militia's grasp on the city was diminishing. Gotham was going to be saved. Batman would make sure of that.

Then why doesn't it feel like we're winning? Barbara opened her eyes. She turned her head and watched an officer apply new bandages onto his knife wound.

Suddenly, a loud voice startled her. Barbara jumped as she heard an officer yell out, "Identify yourself!"

"I said open the damn gate!" a voice barked back over the channel. The source of the signal was coming from the main shutter door. "I've got a severely wounded here! Open the gate!"

Barbara wheeled her chair around and rushed to surveillance desk. Officer Cash and another policeman were peering at the monitor. "Sir, that's one of the militia's SUVs," the policeman said. "We could send a squadron around and flank it."

"Who is that? What do they think they're doing?"

"What's going on?" Barbara demanded.

"Keep that gate shut, officer."

Barbara looked at the monitor. It showed security feed from outside the shutter door. An armored vehicle sat in front of the door. It was too difficult to see who was in the driver's seat.

"Barbara!" the voice pleaded. "You have to let me in! She's dying, Barb!"

Barbara's eyes widened. Both officers looked at her. "How does he—?"

"Let them in, Cash!" Barbara demanded.

"But—!"

"Do it!" She shot him a glare. Cash reached down and hit the switch. The shutter door began rising. When the door had barely raised enough to let the vehicle in, the car shot through.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Cash said as Barbara wheeled away. "Who is he?"

"And old friend," Barbara answered as she headed straight for the underground entrance.

Addendum: Apologies for the late update (though that's pretty much become the norm). These past two weeks have been stressful because we had a pretty bad bug infestation in our apartment. No worries; the problem has been handled.

Also, the end is coming! I'm serious! The next chapter will probably be the last. I'm not exactly sure how to end this story, so I'll probably take a few days to think about it (no, I don't plan out these stories. I get a basic gist, and then write as I go). If you've stuck with this since the first chapter, I want to let you know how much I appreciate your dedication! Now have a nice day!