Talon stared down at the sticky note in his hand:

Shopping List:

Choc. cereal
Green apples
Bread
Granola bars
Ask Dami if he wants more gogurts

What?

Talon didn't know if he should be more confused or horrified. He had woken up to find this and a pen sitting on his kitchen counter. The last thing he remembered was an enormous headache and the failed Star Labs plan. He wasn't sure if this blue post-it note was even his handwriting, it was sloppy and written fast but for some reason, he just could not think of another plausible reason for it to be here. It was just a shopping list and the pen was even still next to it? When was it written? Why? Was it him? Who was Dami?

Talon checked the date and was frustrated to see that 3 days and 4 hours had gone by. This had happened after most headaches and seeing as how he rarely had to eat, he could sleep for much longer if his body demanded it, he just didn't like that something as trivial as a headache could put him out of commission. So far nothing had gone wrong by using this Bludhaven apartment as his pseudo base on operations, but he was really asking for something to happen by sleeping for 3 straight days.

He clenched his fist before realizing he crumpled the shopping list. He tried to smooth it out on the counter before biting his lip and deciding this was probably best placed on his second wall.

He walked over to the living room where one large window took up a majority of the run-down brick wall. There might have been a small TV in here in the past….He wasn't sure where that assumption came from though.

He smoothed the sticky note against the crumbling brick wall before looking over the others. There were others of other colors, mostly different shades and sizes of blue though. He found that the color was comforting, maybe familiar. Most of these were written during his blackouts, he assumed. Some were written after dreams or nightmares in a desperate attempt; although if he were honest most of the time he couldn't find it in himself to write anything after most nightmares due to his rage or panic attacks.

He had googled calming techniques…..he didn't want to try yoga, no matter how flexible he seemed to be.

He wasn't sure if this was the best wall to put the shopping list on, compared to walls #1,3, or 4 but the scribbled 'Dami' made him think it might be short for Damian, and there were at least 97 mentions of Damian on other notes and dreams, not to mention Jay, Jaybird, Timmy, and Alfy.

His bedroom was reserved for wall 4 material: the Court of Owls, the only experience he could remember the most accurately. Wall 1 in the hallway was meant for anything he could remember from Robin or Nightwing and Wall 3 in the kitchen was meant for those blurry memories and skills he found himself falling into from his time with his master. Maybe it was Nightwing's master, although he was almost certain that would be Batman and Batman wasn't his master so it just couldn't cyclically be true. Plus, he heard that Batman was against killing and he knew that the orange, black, and blue figure from his dreams was very anti-hero, to the point of encouraging violence.

"My good boy. My strong blue bird" A firm gloved hand wrapped itself around his throat from behind; slowly tightening over his adams apple until he had no choice but to stumble back to retain oxygen. He hit a firm, plated chest before a calloused ungloved hand ran itself over his forehead and into his hair, nailing dragging along his scalp in a way that made his eyelids flutter in pleasure and made his stomach heat and drop into his pelvic region. The fingers tightened before tugging firmly, pulling his head flush against the solar bone of the figure behind him.

His skin started to overheat and his knees weren't sure if they wanted to wobble or lock up. Behind him, he heard a breathy chuckle and somehow knew there was a smirk accompanying those breaths.

"Don't worry, tonight was rough but necessary. You've come so far, my good boy. My good bird. Tomorrow we'll-"

The memory cut off as a car horn down the street started to go off. He shook his head slightly to reorient himself in the moment. Not master, Damian, no orange, blue.

He found that most memories had a bird name or figure in them, which was the very first clue that all the walls he was remembering might've been connected, 3-4 years ago. Talon was a runaway bird from his Owl masters, Batman seemed to collect birds, and his maybe-master called him various birds: pretty bird, blue bird, and so many more.

Talon sometimes wondered if there would ever be an end to these mystery memories or if he had some sort of maladaptive mental disorder that made him dream up things he real, he convinced himself they could be true or relevant to him. Nothing had changed for the last 5 years, and it might continue for the next 5 still coming.

His training under the court and grandmaster was very rigorous. They told him he could handle it because he was the chosen Gray Son but even he had to admit that all the hits to the head, lack of oxygen to the brain, and various deaths might've given him brain damage; unfortunately.

He had seen a total of 10 court assassins since his escape. He had been lucky to always see and never been seen but nonetheless, he was aware that they were still active in Gotham and looking for him. He hadn't seen the Grandmaster since his escape 3 years ago, nor had he seen the current Talon, Lincoln, but thought that his staying in Bludhaven and his new haircut might've helped him stay away from their attention. He ran a hand over his head, on the right side with his tattoo. It depicted a small Celtic-styled owl clawing its way into a small bird's stomach. Both their wings were open to their full wingspan with thin fine lines and Gaelic knots interwoven through the feathers. He had briefly looked up small birds online at the Gotham library one time and couldn't help but admit that for some reason, the small bird might be a robin. After more searching, he had found a sub-species called the Siberian blue robin and had decided that was the bird from his tattoo and memory.

The deep blue coloring and unassuming white puffiness of the creature's chest drew him in, in a way that he couldn't resist. He could only barely make out the tattoo because, around his 3rd year on the run, he had woken in a frenzy. He had broken half the apartment, most of the furniture, and clawed through his own forearms. With blood dripping everywhere, he was unable to block out the voices, most of all had been that of RedHood's and a figure in black and orange. Batman's voice interjected every now and then while a young boy with raven dark hair and bright viridian eyes had screamed at him? For him?

He grabbed a combat knife and started cutting his clothes and couch. He was desperate to release this pent-up helplessness and anger and started cutting his hair as well, watching soft greasy locks fall onto the kitchen counter and moldy hardwood floor. He had turned the blade and started shearing his head above his right ear when he blacked out again.

He had woken up to find that his frantic haircut had been corrected somehow and had been turned into a moderate mohawk. The sides were buzzed just an inch or 2 above his ears leaving the top in a shaggy mullet style. It was when he was examining his body that he saw the bottom part of a claw piecing a little bird stamped into his head, shaving more and more until he was able to see the Owl.

The other side of his head, the left wrought his attention while he still stared aimlessly at wall # 2. He trailed his hand over that side, feeling the strange line and disformity. It was about a 3-inch cut that had healed poorly across his scalp, between his neck and ear. It was one of the strongest niggling questions he had in his mind for the past year or 2. He had this even while he was with the Court, he could always feel it beneath his hairline.

He forced himself to drag his gaze away from the wall and Damian's name. He looked at the apartment before sighing and throwing on his one stolen hoodie. He had snagged it off a vendor stool in Gotham at an outdoor mall during closing hours. He refused to acknowledge the fact that the back had all 4 of the Bat birds' designs and the front had the yellow bat symbol stamped on. He still liked it and left it at that.

He pulled on some black cargo pants over his body suit and tightened the laces of his boots before heading for the bedroom window. The front door has been locked and bolted but the windows were easy enough to jimmy open when he first found this place. He needed to think about his next game plan and being out and about always helped clear his head, despite what you may think. Jumping and flipping over rooftops, attempting quadruple flips, and back bending over fire escapes helped focus his mind.

He started running and didn't stop, not even when he accidentally entered Gotham's city limit and not even when 3 figures dressed in black with bright glinting gloves started slinking after him.

Jason watched Bruce grab a cup of coffee from Alfred before heading down to the cave. He did his best to avoid eye contact and keep his gaze cool and cold. He did not have the energy to fight with the old man after yesterday's revelations but he still wanted him to hurt. How dare he and Dickie keep news this big from him, from all of them! Never mind that he was lying to Dick about himself too.

After about 10 minutes, Jason rose and made his way down to the cave with everyone else, making his entrance appear as if he worked on his own time and wasn't hyper fixating on his brothers and dad's movements to make sure he appeared aloof and made them react to his timeline, not theirs. Especially not Bruce's.

Bruce had sent the remaining vial back to Ollie in Star City, requesting information it, and form him to send a copy of the formula to Barry in Central so that they could have 2 sets of eyes on it.

Ollie got back to Bruce quickly, reporting that they had modified Dr. Freeze's cryo gun formula into an injectable liquid and gas after various reports of break-ins. Police had reported that these attackers did not respond well to Dr. Freeze's gun in 1 incident and so they had been easily modified to a gas and liquid in case attacks continued. They lessened severely after this but the formula was kept on hand in case. Ollie and Brry both confirmed it shouldn't hurt normal people, despite what the presumed metas had shown, but would send over 2-3 dozen vials for handgun shots and injections and bombs for smoke gas and escapes.

"It may not be needed" Bruce had told them before being shut down. "Please Bruce, I know we can't just waltz into Gotham, but if you are looking into weapons against these metas, then you are already to the point of needing a functioning alternative for the field". Bruce said nothing but told them to have them delivered to Lucious at the Wayne development center.

Bruce watched all his sons suit up before nodding and informing Damian that he and Oracle would be on stand-by and back up over comms tonight.

Damian grumbled but didn't fight much. They all seemed reluctant to engage with Bruce in anything the past 24 hours.

Bruce nodded to RedHood and RedRobin, leading them out into the night for patrol.