Chapter 22: Deep Reaches, Far Hands (Part 1)

Quick shoutout to @High Simp of Mephala and @Dave. Your support is extremely appreciated! 

Author's note at the end of the chapter.

Hope you enjoy it!

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Date: August 18, 2008

Location: Upper Northeast Edge Outskirts of Gotham City, New Jersey, Wayne Manor

Time: 11:04 P.M.

"This is CNN's Anderson Cooper bringing you the latest world news. Recently, there was an incident in Gotham involving multiple heroes, things going downhill when dozens of blo-"

*CLICK*

"This once again brings up a huge topic that people have avoided since heroes became more apparent in our lives! How can we continue to put our trust in them if stuff like this keeps happening? Not to mention… why haven't any countermeasures been employed yet? I mean, the reason behind that one time when Superman went bonkers is still undisclosed for God's sake! When are we going to-"

*CLICK*

"You know, watching the stuff being broadcasted on TV, the only thing I could think about was whether that Wayne guy was lucky or not. I mean, he was declared legally dead a few years ago, then all of a sudden he's back in the land of the living, then you see him kidnapped again. All that ran through my mind was 'Damn, he might actually kick the bucket this time.' Then yo- "

*CLICK*

" *PSH* Please. It was so cool. Experiencing that little light leaving me near the end was wicked! People just don't know what they're talking about. I think this goes to show how awesome Wildcard can be. Think about it… the guy practically served the world's greatest superhero roster on a table! He's got a lot going on for him whe-"

*CLICK*

"This is Vicki Vale, bringing you the latest news live from Gotham Now!" a confident woman stood with a miniature microphone in her hand, an intelligent, shrewd look in her eyes as she peered into the camera. "A few days ago, in a huge turn of events, one of our city's beloved heroes turned on the people, aching the hearts of thousands while simultaneously racking up millions in damages!"

"As of yet, the Justice League hasn't answered most of our questions nor given notice for when they will hold a conference to do so. Instead, they've released a statement informing the public that the events weren't the fault of Wildcard, but the result of a major clash against an unknown terrorist cell that managed to sneak into Gotham."

"Standing now a little away from the very same streets where the tragedy took place are some of the district's residents, people unable to return to their demolished homes as they share their opinions with us."

Vicki combed a few strands of hair back as she faced a blurred-out image of a man dressed in a Superman logo t-shirt, bringing the microphone to his lips. "Sir. Can you tell us your thoughts?"

"I've only got three things to say to that *^*%&#@ who's definitely watching with a smile somewhere out there!" the man raged, spittle flying into the camera. "KISS MY-"

*CLICK*

Bruce pressed a button on his keyboard that finally shut down all ongoing news reports, causing silence to descend onto the Batcave.

"People are really getting worked up." Selina sighed as she leaned on the panel beside him, sticking out a mug. "You'd think they'd be more focused on fixing things first before looking for blame."

Bruce glanced at her as he took the cup and placed it on the side in utter dismissal. "We both know that two days isn't nearly enough time for the people to lick their wounds."

Yes. It's been two days since the major showdown that went down in the city. Two days since reconstruction began after a sizeable donation from Wayne Enterprises. Two days since every major tabloid and news channel started fanning the flames on the age-old topic of how superheroes should be held accountable for their misdeeds. Two days since the public divide has formed and shown signs of widening for time to come.

Two days since Bruce's longtime friend and sons have remained unconscious.

Riddler's actions had stirred up the viper's pit, and Ben added the extra bait to put them in a frenzy. Although the media was at war deciding whether or not Ben was responsible, they didn't have any concrete evidence to pin the blame on him. The black gas had chewed through most cameras in its indiscriminate dissemination, and the government satellites safe in orbit couldn't penetrate the smog clouds.

But the people wouldn't rest till someone was held accountable for the death toll…

Miraculously, although there were deaths, none were directly because of Ben. Many civilians were injured, some critically, but those that died weren't his fault. Most of the deaths were at Miller Harbor, some sailors having died in the explosion, while the other deaths were from the stampedes that occurred due to the bomb threat Riddler had caused. The horrors revolving around his debut months earlier had yet to dissipate, so it made sense for the people to panic.

But there were still people perishing every second in the emergency room now... all of their ghosts waiting to haunt Ben's conscience when he woke up.

"Hey!" Selina shouted in annoyance when she witnessed his actions. She straightened the bits of her wrinkled black nightdress peeking out of the robe worn over it. "A little more thanks would be appreciated since if it wasn't for me, you'd have burned this place down by now."

Ignoring her, Bruce's mind turned empty, unable to form a coherent thought. This had been going on for the last two days. Whenever he got deep into work, his mind would rewire itself, his every waning attempt to concentrate on other matters suddenly steering him into thinking something relating to his family.

Since everyone was out of order, Bruce had no one to help him take care of the manor and monitor all the residents. He was busy trying to quell the surging rate of crime in light of the chaos stirred up by the League of Assassins and the short time his son lost his reasoning.

Since she was also worried for everyone and wanted to lay low and avoid possible heat from the GCPD who wanted to question her views on the events leading up to the giant clash, Selina volunteered to take the gentleman's place in return for a couple of days of residency in the manor alongside her sister who was slightly traumatized.

Alfred was also in the clear now with law enforcement. They were given quite the scare when he managed to give them the slip at the hospital. They were ready to begin a manhunt for him before Gordon ordered them to stand down and declared the butler innocent.

"How is our new guest?" Bruce properly faced her.

"I'm great, thanks for asking." Selina's face soured at his lack of regard for her before she dropped all pretenses when she noticed Bruce's slightly clenched fist. "...No change. Other than the few times she's gone to bathe or eat, she hasn't left Ben's side. "

After David escaped, Bruce was planning to interrogate the unknown girl before Selina intervened, explaining how she helped them out. Deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, and listening to Ben's former words, he also allowed her to stay in the manor. They tried getting her to open up to them, but other than the one time she had held off David, she hadn't made another peep.

Bruce silently rose as he made his way to the med-bay. Putting his hand on a glass pod, Ben's body could be seen lying on a bed, his face neutral as he slept.

Out of the entirety of his injured family, the one most expected to be in the worst condition was relatively alright. ESAMAL had been keeping a constant eye on Ben ever since his mind shut down, but what annoyed Bruce was that he couldn't get any physical samples. Every time he tried drawing material from his son, it would vanish at random points in time. Like with the blood that disappeared before.

He should've followed up on that…

A bit desperate to get anything that could prove useful in figuring out more, Bruce called over the rapidly recovered Superman to examine Ben with his many different scopes of vision. After agreeing, the Man of Steel got on with it before dawning a horrified expression at the time.

"There are microscopic pores, or tears, scattered all over his cells." Clark had explained with worry. "I'm not seeing anything harmful about them, but they're disturbing to look at. Also, I can't get a good look at his genes. There's some kind of casing surrounding his DNA strands, like a black plaster."

Nothing was ever easy…

Thinking back on that moment, Bruce suddenly stated, "You knew." 

Selina looked at him and surprise and confusion as he clarified. "Ben's condition. You knew. But for how long?"

The problem with the effects of the contract is that it couldn't hold up against the most observant of people. The first time Bruce drew blood from his son, Selina was by his side as a witness. Since facial expressions can also give away information, the contract would prevent facial movements from occurring in the first place so that the secrets it was sworn to protect would remain safe.

Unfortunately, that was also a telling sign in and of itself. Even if the contract hadn't gone into effect, and Selina had tried to fake her reaction, Bruce would've noticed it in a heartbeat. Surprise was one of the hardest reactions for people to fake.

"He told me to keep it a secret." she sat down on one of the chairs. "He didn't want to run it by you because he knew you'd run more tests on him."

"Running tests is how I determine the cause of his condition and appease it if necessary." Bruce argued.

"Bruce…" she seethed at him in incredulity. "He's had people 'running tests' on him for most of his life."

Bruce paused at that, unable to form any response. Ben didn't need to do anything to hide his feelings on certain matters. The side effects of his powers did that for him. As such, nobody would know what was on his mind unless he gave them a clue. Bruce just thought that Ben was made of tougher stuff. That his son had managed to move on from the past when he still couldn't.

He was being proven wrong way too often lately.

"Bruce." Selina quietly walked beside him, grabbing his hand. "It's not your fau-"

"It is my fault." he vetoed, gently removing her fingers as he faced her with a dark look.

Selina's expression shifted in annoyance. Why couldn't he understand that she was also suffering like him? Not only did she have to watch everyone's listless forms every day, she also had to watch as Bruce refused to rest for even a moment, pushing himself more than usual as he ran to and from the Hall of Justice, Shadowcrest Manor, GCPD, Dr. Thompkin's Clinic…

It was made worse when she knew that she couldn't help him. Sure, Batman always runs himself ragged, but recently it seemed like things were going in overdrive. 

Selina walked up with him to the cave's elevator entrance, addressing him as they were waiting for it to arrive.

"It's getting late and I wanted to spend some time with Maggie before hitting the hay." she explained, as the elevator doors finally opened. "You know where to find me if you need anything."

Bruce silently nodded as he entered the lift, inputting the button for his destination.

"Can you at least promise me that you won't go out tonight?" Selina crossed her arms.

The doors had only just begun closing when Bruce looked into Selina's eyes with that same determined glint he had when she first met him. A glint, having never faded with time, but sharpened instead.

"I can't."

As the doors finally shut and the machine's hydraulics let out muffled whirs, Selina lingered by them for just a bit longer.

"I know." she whispered to herself, turning on her heels as she tightened the robe to stave off the cave's cold, damp air.

"I just had to try."

...

A man covered in clean, cool brown sheets was saddled to a bed, high-tech monitors and medical apparatus' hooked up to him as his chest peacefully rose and fell in rhythm.

Fortunately for the Doberman lying beside the man's feet, the bed was large enough to fit his size as he did his best to follow the pace of his breath.

It's been days since Bruce transferred his family into their bedrooms at the manor, wanting to make use of his company's top-of-the-line medical devices, bio treatments, and newly made pharmaceutical drugs to give them the greatest chance at a perfect, speedy recovery.

The biggest hurdle was getting Alfred transferred over from Gotham General since Dr. Thompkins, who was at his side at the time, was stubborn in giving permission.

Back when Thomas and Martha had died, when Dr. Thompking and Alfred had shared guardianship over Bruce, the years they spent together had led to some… romantic interests blooming. Although it was unknown if that still stood now, the woman still cared greatly for the age-old butler.

Apparently, nobody had informed Dr. Thompkins of the man's injured state, her longtime connection with Alfred causing her to feel shaken on his behalf and wish to oversee his treatment personally at the hospital, refusing to leave his side. Understanding where the woman was coming from, Bruce tried his best to be patient and reach a compromise.

Thankfully, due to their mutual wish to see everyone back on their feet as quickly as possible, Dr. Thompkins was persuaded to move him back to the manor.

Except… she only allowed it on the condition that she be permitted to stay and continue overseeing his treatment. The police were adamant about keeping her clinic closed down for a few more days to canvas the scene, so she didn't have any other place to spend her time.

Unfortunately, even with all of Bruce's help, someone else wasn't having any of it.

*SMACK*

"How dare you walk in here!"

Julia's open palm was widely outstretched in the air while the other shook at her side. The chair she was sitting on earlier was pushed far behind her when she rose, a trail of rug marks left in its journey.

Bruce stood before her with his head turned to the side, a red handprint on his cheek as he silently endured the woman's bottled-up anger.

Sensing the coming disturbance beforehand, Brutus perked up as he growled lowly in warning at the duo, informing them to watch their volume.

Also having suffered in recent events, the familiars needed a healing process too. While Kenzo was the only exception to having not been injured and Brutus had managed to get back into tip-top condition, Wyle was suffering the worst. 

It was like he had PTSD. There would be random moments when he would start shivering, unable to get himself under control. Bruce believed it was due to the orb he was trapped in. Since it couldn't be dispelled, and the heroes were too spent to assist at the time, the Jackalope was forced to stay inside it for a few more hours before it naturally vanished.

Yet, regardless of their experiences, the familiars had mostly foregone caring for their health in exchange for helping others, their empathy shining brightly. Bruce noticed how they tried their best to support everyone by acting as extra cute and loveable as possible. They also tried to rotate between who to spend time with, but it was hard for them to break their preferences. Wyle was usually curled up beside Ben, Kenzo with Dick, and Brutus with Alfred.

"Take your cage-fight out of here." the room's second occupant, Dr. Thompkins, scolded them. "Why can't anyone in this house understand what rest means?" she grumbled to herself.

Julia turned to look at the Cerberus and doctor before she walked out of the room, Bruce turning to follow her a moment later.

"What happened?" Julia clenched her teeth as she closed the door behind Bruce. "Did you finally decide to grow a pair after avoiding a visit the past few days?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes at her unfair, and untrue, accusation. "I was here yesterday. I only came now cause I was making sure tha-"

"You shouldn't be making sure of anything except caring for your, very, VERY, injured family!" she shouted.

A growl from behind the door showed that the Cerberus was still listening in, once more warning them to take their spat farther away. Taking the hint before Dr. Thompkins could back up the dog too, the duo silently walked down the halls towards the library as Julia took the chance to calm herself.

"Don't you feel anything when you see them lying there, unable to care for themselves?" she asked.

Bruce walked up to a table in the center of the study, a large life-sized holographic model of Gotham placed upon it. "I know that they'll recover. Alfred was a soldier first. I've never hidden the danger of working for me from him."

"And what about the other two?" Julia leaned on the other side of the projector opposite the man.

"They're stronger than me." he responded simply, clicking a few points on a pad that highlighted certain areas on the model. They were meant to correlate with the damaged locations around Gotham.

Unfortunately, Bruce wasn't paying enough attention to realize that he had spoken incorrectly.

"They're kids fighting against freaks of nature!" Julia banged on the setup, the hologram momentarily glitching. "They can't be anything else but 'strong' if they don't want to get their organs eaten inside out or trapped two feet under a pile of rubble!"

"And don't give me that crap about him being a soldier first." she stomped back around the projector, slapping away Bruce's hand when he still refused to look at her. "Even soldiers need to retire someday!"

"Enough." Bruce coldly spoke in a low tone. "Alfred knew what he was getting himself into when he decided to stay by my side."

Julia was flabbergasted, her tone turning bitter. 

"How could a father, filled with so much love for his son, ever let his boy go to war all alone…"

As Bruce remained mute, Julia's tone progressively worsened. "He chose you. That's it, it's just another fact. He left me all those years ago and chose you instead. I was ready to leave dammit! But when I saw how responsible he felt for you…"

She paused, taking a deep breath. "From what little I've seen, I can tell that he can't stomach the idea of leaving you alone. I've barely known you for a week, and I can already tell that if he left you alone, you'd lock yourself up inside that damn cave for the rest of your life."

"You played with that feeling. That sense of responsibility he felt. Don't lie to me and say that you didn't know he would do his best to live up to your every expectation while putting aside his own. Heck, those two boys are trying to do the exact same thing!" one finger pointed outside the library as another poked Bruce's chest.

"I know I can't change his mind. Nothing I say will get through to him. And since I still don't want any part in this madness, I'll be gone by the time he gets better." Julia zipped up her brown jacket as she turned to walk out of the study.

"But I want you to remember…"

"Every injury they bear since the day they joined you, inside or out, mental or physical… all of them are your fault."

Julia closed the doors behind her in a surprisingly gentle manner, the moonlight streaming through the windows being the only thing that remained to accompany Bruce as his mind slowed to a crawl.

Looking over the projection of Gotham before him like he'd done so many times before, a hollowness assaulted him.

The eternal city in his heart… didn't seem so eternal anymore.

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Date: August 18, 2008

Location: Central Gotham City, New Jersey, Gotham Proper (Upper), Gotham General Hospital

Time: 11:48 P.M.

Gotham General. A hospital well known for its neurosurgery department thanks to the late Thomas Wayne who uplifted its reputation during his tenure there.

There was only one word to describe the traffic moving in and out of the place currently…

Packed.

The intensive care units, the trauma department, infection control… every department was packed.

People with varying injuries were wailing on the beds, chairs in the waiting room, and stretchers laid on the ground… 

The hospital's staff was working overtime, doing their best to save just one more life.

And unaware of all the woes taking place below him, another man was nose-deep in dealing with his share of troubles upstairs in a private room…

"I know Mr. Mayor. Yes, it's unacceptable that we have to deal with this in the first place, but I can't send my men out on a wild goose chase. I'm sure you remember how we tried capturing Batman once before. Need I remind you of the outcome?" 

A lot of muffled yelling and ranting could be heard coming out from the phone as James Gordon yanked it away from his head. "No Mr. Mayo-" he was cut off for a bit. "I meant no, as in yes, I understand. I'll have my best men looking out for this when a chance is provided. You see I'm a bit preoccupied with recove-"

More yelling interrupted James as he decided it was better for the phone not to go back beside his ringing ear.

"Yes sir. I'll call you back whe-"

*RING RING RING*

"Speak of the devil…" James muttered as he looked back at the screen to check out the incoming caller ID. "That's one of those good men calling me right now sir. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

A bit more mumbling was heard on the other side.

"Yes, Mr. Mayor. Have a good night."

With exhaustion hanging over his entire being, James finally hung up the call with a foul sigh, letting the phone ring for a bit as he just stared at it.

In the GCPD, it's hard for officers to earn a vacation, what with everything in this damned place constantly going to hell and the force being understaffed all the time. So, it's obvious how bad things are for him, the police commissioner.

Even when he was wounded and supposed to be resting, no one else could run things on his behalf for too long.

Rubbing his heavy brows, James composed himself as he finally answered the call.

"Hey Harv. Anything I need to-"

Without warning, the phone was plucked out from James' hands as he looked up, meeting the scowling face of a young girl dressed in a school uniform.

"You have got to be kidding!"

Before James could even get a word in, the girl was already talking on his phone instead.

"Hey Uncle Harvey, Dad's going to have to call you back. He's busy getting talked down by your favorite niece." 

The girl hung up the phone before any voices of objection could start as she threw it back onto James' lap.

"Babs..." James looked down at his cell before looking back up at the red-haired girl. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I wonder why." she sarcastically remarked as she waved between the door and her dad. "You were so into it that you didn't even realize you were disturbing the peace."

Looking out through the part of the entrance left ajar, James caught a brief glimpse of annoyance on the faces of the few nurses and doctors present on the floor. However, noticing his stare, they quickly disappeared as they avoided his gaze, scrambling off who knows where as he was left to grumble at his daughter's strictness.

Barbara Gordon was a straight-A student who grew up alongside Gotham's number-one cop, always doing her best to follow in her dad's footsteps. Of course, that doesn't include any of the parts involving being landed in the hospital…

"It's not my fault everyone finds me so irresistible." James jested at his daughter's nonplussed look. "Not a lot of bites left for them to share."

"Don't joke about that." Barbara clenched her hands at the side of her hips.

Gordon paused whatever he was about to say, obediently leaning back in his bed.

It was routine by now for Barbara to get calls about her dad possibly being dead or injured enough that he'd been sent for recovery. It was also routine for her to go pack up her stuff from the house and stay by his side to care for him wherever he was admitted.

Every unceasing call from work, every routing visit and check-in from the doctor, all was viewed by Barbara beside James' hospital bed as she finished up her scraps of homework and read her books. 

It got harder for her every time.

"You're right. I'm sorry, it was insensitive." James conceded. "You know it's hard to fix up my night habits. No rest for the wicked I tell ya."

"I'm used to it." Barbara sighed as she moved over beside James' bed to hold his hand. "Can you at least TRY to go back to sleep? The faster you listen to what they tell you to do, the faster we can go home."

James glanced back at his the palm intertwined with his. 

"Fine." he slowly agreed. "How about you grab me a late-night snack first?"

"Alright…" Barbara glanced at him suspiciously as she stood up. "But if I see you on the phone one more tim-"

"I got it." he cut her off. "Trust me. Just let me fill up my belly before I take a nap."

As Barbara finally closed the door behind her, James looked around for a bit before he reached out his hand to the chair opposite hers, rummaging through his coat and retrieving a smooth, gray tobacco pipe.

"Smoking isn't allowed in here."

"#&(*#@#&$@!!" James cursed in complete shock as he turned back to his side, coming face to face with one of his oldest friends. "Oh it's just you." he breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought Babs snuck back in."

The white slits on Bruce's cowl remained impassive. "She's just discovered that the cafeteria was empty and went to get you something from nearby."

"Damn voyeur…" James muttered as he waved Bruce off. 

Placing his pipe down the desk to free his hand, he tried gently leaving his bed without disturbing the wires connected to him. After succeeding, he turned to the room's open window and tried to pick it back up, his fingers brushing against thin air.

"Like I said…" James turned to find Bruce dangling it in his hand. "Not allowed."

"Cut me some slack..." James groaned as he gave up, helplessly plopping himself back down onto the bed and making himself comfortable once more. "Between me being confined in here and having a hawk circling me twenty-four-seven, I haven't gotten a chance to take a single puff."

Folks wouldn't last long in Gotham if they didn't have something to take away their attention from most of their difficulties. For Jim, it was smoking. Even though he knew it was unhealthy, it helped pass the time and get his mind off the bigger issues.

Besides, as dark as it sounded, dying of lung failure or some other disease would be more of a blessing compared to some of the deaths he'd witnessed.

Death wasn't scary compared to how you went out…

"I can't catch a break." James complained, pointing at the phone beside him. "You know, the mayor wants to put out an arrest warrant for you again."

"And…" he picked up a nearby paper crumpled up beside him, unfurling it to show a billing statement. "I just lost months' worth of salary with this one hospital visit. What do I pay insurance for if they're not even going to do anything?" he ranted in annoyance.

"...Did you clock in for work at the time of the incident?" Bruce asked.

"What kind of question is that?" James looked at him weirdly. He was the commissioner, he was always clocked in.

"Congratulations." Bruce's tone was monotone. "You can file for a work injury."

James opened his mouth, quickly closing it right after.

It wasn't the first time he had heard the Dark Knight tell a joke, but it usually left him unable to retort.

"Yeah…" Jim sighed. "But I'm not going to do that. That'll be taking out of everyone's paycheck."

Bruce took the lull that settled after that statement to map out the place.

Although fancy, the private room wasn't too lavish. The floor was made up of beautiful wood furnishing alongside the small cabinet propped up on the wall. A green cushioned chair on white acrylic frames was found on each side of the bed, the same with the two desks each holding a vase that was taking care of some flowers.

Finding nothing of importance in the room's design, Bruce became more focused on the books strewn all about and the messily opened suitcase in the corner filled with clothes. Bruce went on to recognize more than eight famous authors.

'Fitzgerald, Twain, Tolstoy, Austen…'

"Poor Bab's been bored out of her mind stuck here with me." James commented when he noticed Bruce looking around. "She reads through them like a Niffler spotting gold before getting bored with them right after."

Bruce merely looked back at the man in silence.

"...She recently read some Harry Potter to me." James coughed.

Bruce gave a simple hum of acknowledgment. "Jim. I came here to-"

"One sec." James interrupted, picking up the remote beside him as the top of his bed steadily elevated itself. "My back's been acting up with all this lying around."

Bruce patiently waited for him to finish before he continued.

"I came here to-"

"Real quick." James sneakily picked up his phone. "You wanna tell me how all those bombs were detonated in Miller Harbor?"

"...Joker gathered the-"

"Alright. Joker was responsible." James typed as he mumbled, not needing to hear another word. "...And sent. Thanks a lot, one more problem solved. Now I can argue for more time to be added to his sentence in Arkham."

Bruce stood still for a moment, examining the man for any more possible interruptions. "I came here to-"

"Let me stop you right there." James became serious, wiping his glasses down using his hospital gown. "Usually you'd tell me what you wanted right after you show up. Not to mention, rarely do you start things off with a joke. This obviously isn't a work visit, and I don't need to hear any of the crappy nonsense about to spew out of your mouth to know what this is about."

Bruce remained silent, waiting to see where this went.

"You're in doubt again… trying to find another reason to convince yourself that what you're doing isn't pointless."

James has seen a lot of this in his line of work, even before becoming commissioner. Back in Chicago when he was in the Marine Corps, so many of his comrades used to constantly question themselves about whether they were making a difference. He was already watching his friends get their brains shot out even before he moved back to Gotham.

The world just had an odd way of making people think about whether or not they were worth something…

"You know…" James picked up a cup of water and took a sip. "Your heart's not nearly as cold as you pretend it is."

The continued silence made the commissioner chuckle. Any form of denial would just be an admission.

"I know we're not true partners." James acquiesced, giving Bruce a raised brow that dared him to dispute that. "I've come to terms with the fact that there may not be a day where you'll fully tell me your plans. That there won't be a time where you won't just vanish mid-sentence."

"I know we have our differences. Like how I was always against you bringing Robin and Wildcard into this never-ending nightmare."

"But now I realize that we're both men doing our best to make things better. That none of us are right one hundred percent of the time."

Bruce remained silent, unable to respond to the statement. He was still trying to figure out ways to deal with his mistakes, and it wasn't proving easy. He had thought about making a list of everyone he owed an apology to, but he would then have to hold off on going through with any reconciliation until he started with his son.

"...I always go back to the times when we first started out together." James' eyes became far-off. "That time I tried arresting you at the Ace Chemical Plant during the Red Hood Gang fiasco. Before we found any sort of common ground."

Silence.

"You know something surprising? I… hate this city." James admitted. "The crime and corruption and the filth and the subway and the crowds!"

"But… but I love it too. It's part of me, the way it's part of you."

James once more picked apart his coat, taking out his wallet and opening it to slide out a square piece of paper that he handed to Bruce. Unfolding it revealed it to be an old photo of the two shaking hands, taken privately when Bruce once agreed to get a cup of coffee with him.

"If Gotham dies, they might as well bury me with her." Bruce looked up to meet James' sincere eyes. "There've been a lot of regrets in my life, Batman. But there's one thing I won't ever regret -- that you and I fought in the same war."

A strange feeling came upon Bruce, one he couldn't make out with certainty.

"...It seems like becoming sentimental in old age is something none of us can avoid." Bruce turned to face the open window once more.

"Hey, I only look the part for the moment." James ignored the jab. "Babs brought up the idea of dying my hair to look red again and I'm going through with it the second I get out of here."

Speaking of the devil, the door opened as Barbara walked in with her head down, her hand stuffed inside a plastic bag. "I'm back. The cafeteria was packed and the vending machines were practically empty, so I had to quickly run to a convenience store to-"

She paused when she looked up, her eyes widening. "What's going on here?!"

"It's not what it looks like." James waved his hand as he turned to the side. "I was jus-"

No one was beside him.

"Really…" Barbara impatiently started tapping her foot, sternness written on her face as she threw the bag onto James' lap. "Cause it looks to me like you were trying to smoke in the hospital."

Startled at her words, James looked down to find that, at some point, his smoking pipe was within his grasp once again. The window remained open, the night's breeze serenely blowing the curtains.

"Son of a-"

On the rooftop opposite, Bruce watched as the father and daughter "played rough", smiles on their faces as they shared some hearty laughs.

Bruce would always be responsible for clearing away his doubts. He would never let anyone solve his problems for him, personal or not. But, some advice makes adjusting his priorities easier, even if he won't admit it.

Mistakes were what allowed him to change and improve. He made a lot of them when he first started crime-fighting, and he's managed to adapt since. Yes, it may seem like he's done his best to adjust to the new changes going on in the manor in the last two years, but he can now admit to himself that he hasn't truly, focused more on business instead of play.

Batman wasn't the only one who needed to grow, Bruce Wayne needed a chance too.

"What are you doing here?" Bruce suddenly asked.

Walking out from a nearby billboard ad, a figure dressed in white was glistening in the moonlight, their cape billowing upwards to grant glimpses of the two katanas sheathed underneath it.

"I saw the infamous Bruce Wayne struggling for his life on the news and just had to come and see the unbelievable sight for myself. You've lost your touch."

Bruce turned around, the reflection of his suit's cowl shining off the futuristic white helmet covering the figure's body. Black lines ran parallel in the helmet's center, highlighting the neon blue lenses shining spectrally.

"Khoa." Bruce's hands slowly retreated behind his cape. "You broke our agreement."

"And I'm about to do so much more if you don't give a reasonable explanation as to why I shouldn't. After all, this city deserves a cleansing, and I seem to be the only one willing to provide it."

"Khoa" leaned over the edge of the building, watching the sirens going off into the distance.

"Also… call me Ghost-Maker."

------------------

Date: August 19, 2008

Location: New York City, New York, Central Park

Time: 3:02 A.M.

Crickets chirping, mice scurrying, hawks observing…

Central Park was a beautifully sculpted land of nature crowded with people in the late morning…

"Get out of here ya nasty bugger!"

…and infested with wanderers at night.

Grating his baton side to side on the metal bike rack, a tall, lanky man kept urging a woman dressed in torn apparel to leave. With no small amount of panic, she grabbed a few things before running off.

"Finally!" the man celebrated a bit. "Little outie finally realized her place."

"You said it, some of these bums still can't get it through their thick skulls." another rotund man agreed from beside him.

After the sun went down, officers were forced to scour the park to kick out the many homeless people who were trying to find a nice cozy place to sleep for the night. Alas, due to the area's vast territory, many hiding places also exist where some stragglers can stay out of sight till the gates close.

Yet, the pair of officers didn't seem bothered by that, the two going to sit on a nearby bench by a dry fountain. "Not a lot of stragglers out today." the rotund man took out a sandwich from a brown paper bag.

"How are you still hungry?" the tall man pulled out his phone and asked in disbelief. "Was the box of donuts not enough?"

"It's a long night." The rotund man savored the smell of ham and Swiss cheese as he took a bite. "What are you trying to do?" he asked between munches.

"My wife texted me that G. Gordon Godfrey was calling out the Justice League live earlier. I wanted to watch the playback."

The rotund man lost interest and continued gorging on his meal, the tall lanky man soon growing bored as he waited for the buffering dotted circle to finish up. "I should've saved up for a LexCorp phone instead…" he mumbled.

Looking up from his phone to survey the area, the tall officer was taken aback when his gaze landed on one of the walls.

The bench the duo were sitting on was in front of a fountain. On the other side of the ceramic and cast stone structure, the tall lanky man could make out the figure of a man curled up on the wide top of the wall, no doubt snoozing away.

Being nudged by his partner, the rotund man quickly licked his fingers and threw away the brown bag before catching up to the tall man. "Hey!" the tall man tried calling out to the figure. 

No response greeted him.

Taking out his flashlight, the tall man shined it down. "Hey buddy! I'm talking… to… you…"

The two men froze, faces turning white at what they witnessed. While they couldn't make out the figure's features due to the multiple bland cloaks wrapping them up like a burrito, it was the blood sliding down the wall and forming a sizeable puddle when it met the ground that scared the officers stiff.

"Hands in the air!" pulling out his gun, the tall man screamed at the figure, knees shaking. His partner followed him only a moment later, fear hidden in his eyes.

The two officers weren't high up in their task force, being relatively new on the job as they did their best to work their way up the ladder. They had just graduated from the academy and were only a few weeks into their patrol with their senior officers before they committed a major mistake pertaining to a criminal of interest, derailing months of planning going on in the department. Giving up on them then and there, their CO reassigned them to night patrol in Central Park. Since then, they've been working to regain the respect of their fellow associates.

They weren't given a chance to build up an immunity to sights like this.

As the figure roused from their slumber and stood up, the officer's eyes bulged. They strained their necks to look up at the… monster's… monumental stature. They still couldn't make out any other features, the veil of darkness over the center hood proving impenetrable.

An unknown amount of time later, the figure walked through a thicket of trees with a strange sway in their steps, a pair of bodies lying behind them. Although their steps remained largely quiet, some critters still fled at the sounds of rustling bushes.

*SNAP*

After almost tripping on thin air, the figure stumbled hard on a large pile of crisp twigs. Paying no mind and continuing, they came upon a large clearing where they paused to a surprising sight.

Sprawled upon a makeshift bed crafted from cardboard boxes and pillows made up of empty soup cans, dressed in what could only be amounted to rags, an old man shivered as he nodded in and out of sleep. His jeans had been worn down to the point where mere strips were hugging up to his knees, his feet only having socks to warm them while his cut-up t-shirt filled with holes left plenty of room for the frigid breeze to brush against his skin.

Clearly, life was especially harsh to him as opposed to those living through similar conditions.

The man was most likely responsible for scattering the branches earlier, creating a mundane alarm system to alert him if and when the police returned. Unfortunately, he was too delirious to have heard anything, his body remaining in the same shivering position as he mumbled in what could only be a nightmare-induced vision.

The top part of the figure's head moved as they seemingly scanned the old man from head to toe. Starting with the dandruff peppering his hair, to the rheum crusted down to the edge of his eyebags, and ending with the blisters on his heels.

As still and quiet as a statue, the figure stood overtop the man, like they were just another one of the trees that had taken firm root. Suddenly, they unclasped their outermost cloak, whipping it out a few times as if shaking off possible stains before they covered the man with it.

The figure continued moving deeper through the foliage, blood dripping as their gait slowly worsened. What previously started as a stable march turned into a pitiful amble, soon devolving into a shaky trudge that ended with short, lurching steps. 

After a long trek, a small, bridging stone arch appeared in their field of view. Soon, the figure rested its back on a hidden spot next to the small tunnel formed underneath the place, blood pooling around them once more.

"You look like you were put through a blender." a sudden voice startled the figure as they whipped their head around.

A red-haired man in a martial gi leaned on the wall of the small tunnel with a weird smile.

"What a conundrum you are. First, you knock out some officers. Then, you help a guy?" the man casually pondered as he rubbed his chin. "You sure know how to make people question your level of friendliness. Then again, not killing those two gives you major brownie points."

The figure looked at the man intensely for a moment. "Ri…chard…" a hoarse voice sounded from underneath the figure's hood.

The red-haired man's smile turned into a frown as he closely examined the figure from head to toe. "How do you know my name, 'friend'?"

Shakily pulling back the makeshift cowl covering their features, a polished, bronze, masculine face appeared in Richard's sight, two pairs of triple-fang-shaped marks running parallel from his bald head and the edges of his jaw.

Richard's eyes widened as he gasped. "You're… You're… yeah, I'm coming up blank." he deflated as he admitted.

The man went one step further. Tugging at his face, he grunted as it slowly peeled off like a banana peel. Roughly throwing it away, a darker face was revealed. Some signs of facial hair growth were also present as opposed to the previous mask's cleanness.

"...No way." Richard's surprise was real this time as his breathing slightly quickened. "Ben…?"

Ben Turner, the Bronze Tiger, hollowly laughed. "In the 'blended' flesh brother."

Quickly moving forward, Richard lugged the man over to a better position. Ben grunted in pain the whole way before sighing in relief as his back rested much more comfortably on a smooth tree trunk. 

"I can tell you've been up to a lot of things." Richard gave a critical eye to the grizzly wounds on his friend's body after having removed his remaining cloaks to provide comfort to the ground where he sat. 

Bits of Ben's shredded skin were hanging off a few claw-shaped gashes, some parts having already scabbed over while others remained relentless in squirting blood. "Before you fill me in on the adventures I missed… what happened to your beard?"

"Don't know." Ben was confused as he shakily patted his face. "Did I have a beard?"

Richard raised a brow at the question, not saying anything.

"But as for this…" Ben painfully chuckled as he motioned towards his wounds. "You wouldn't believe it…I managed to wrestle with some kind of man-shaped crocodile…"

"You mean like that Killer Croc guy in Gotham?" Richard's tone turned weird at that.

"Huh… I didn't know he was famous." Ben coughed with surprise in his tone. "I think it was him."

Richard grew more concerned by the minute, something not adding up. "You called him a low-life Bowser the first time you read about him in the newspaper…"

Ben's head lulled to the side a bit. "Since when did I read newspapers?"

Richard became solemn, keeping a finger on his friend's wrist to measure his pulse. "Tell me everything that you can recall."

Ben tried closing his eyes before Richard patted his cheek to interrupt. "Yeah… it's probably best you keep those eyelids open while you think."

"I only remember snippets…" Ben murmured, putting a hand to his head in pain. "I remember blood drenching my hands, and more blood drenching my hands, and more and more and more and more…

As Ben's voice turned darker and more frenzied, Richard clamped his mouth shut, waiting until he calmed down to slowly remove it. "Anything else other than that…" he carefully asked.

"It's all a bit fuzzy." Ben declared after some contemplation. "I think I'd need to see something to jog it. I've been moving on autopilot this whole time. I don't even remember why I was fighting that Yosh guy."

"Bowser." Richard corrected.

Ben either didn't hear or ignored Richard's correctness of his character referencing as he continued. 

"I remember falling into the water with him before some kind of light was dragged out from us. It put me back in control, and once my view brightened back up, I managed to escape from him while he was dazed."

"And then you thought to come here." Richard concluded.

"No." Ben's answer surprised Richard as his eyes turned far off, his head poised to look out the park in a certain direction. "I felt something. I think it was faint, but nice parts of my memory called me toward a certain place. Someplace really close. This wasn't my final destination."

Following his friend's gaze, Richard tried to imagine where his friend was trying to go, thinking about all the key locations situated near the way he was facing. Soon, his face turned unnatural when something came to mind.

"New York University…" Richard muttered.

Ben perked up a bit at that as he nodded his head. "Yeah… I think that's it. I had flashes of us and another woman hanging out together… the peaceful times we spent training and learning." he dreamily murmured.

Richard closed his eyes and retreated into his mind, putting some serious thought into something. "Where did you say you've been all this time again?"

"With the League of Assassins of course."

Alert at the new voice interjecting, Richard shielded Ben behind him as he turned to face a nearby boulder. A woman wearing a red shirt tucked into black pants walked out from around the rock, her black, flowing hair creating a curtain over the scimitar strapped to the back of her trenchcoat.

"Wary of me, Dragon?" Lady Shiva raised a brow at Richard's defensive stance. "How amusing."

"I thought your voice was familiar, I just didn't want to assume." Richard played it off with a sigh as he settled back down. "So you're with the League now? Did you come here to join in on 'Pay Richard a surprise reunion day'? Or did you also have some sort of calli-"

"YOU TRAITOR!" a roar suddenly, came from behind Richard. Ben's eyes had turned bloodshot as he tried, and promptly failed, to get up. "IT'S CAUSE OF YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"I believe you're now aware of who I'm here for." Shiva dryly commented.

Shocked, Richard quickly did his best to hold Ben down when he tried crawling forward. He was surprisingly powerful considering his current condition. "Stay still. Your wounds can't be aggravated right now."

"You can thank her for that!" Ben shouted, trying to fight off Richard and weakly charge the woman. "She used me! She's responsible for all of this!"

Ben's tone started turning faint due to a mix of blood loss and horror drowning him. "You monster. How could you allow them to make me slaughter all those people? How could you let them make me constantly use 'that' over and over again…"

Richard was both shocked and lost by what he was hearing, unable to understand things anymore. "You guys are making me feel left out right now."

"Now I know why my memories are so wrong. It's because of this." hand strenuously reaching towards his belt buckle, Ben ripped off a tiger-shaped amulet and threw it at Shiva's feet. "I vaguely recall that it means something sacred to me, but I clearly remember what I lost every time I used it. Do YOU remember?!" he accusingly shouted at her.

Richard was stunned as he looked down at the object, unable to come to terms with things. 

The Tiger Amulet is a powerful talisman that allows one to transform into a primal tiger state. With every single use of the amulet, one would burn off tiny pieces of their soul, leading to unknown ramifications. 

Richard was starting to put the pieces together. The League of Assassins, the amulet, Ben's words…

Mind control. A stain on any man's conscience that's made worse for a martial master who does their best to uphold the code of honor.

And mixed with some of the amulets 'unknown ramifications' of the amulet… you might also get memory loss.

"Barney told me you were out on a mission for him…" Richard's face momentarily turned downtrodden.

"Should I know who that is?" Ben paused in his rage to ask.

"No. He's a fool that'll be dealt with later." Richard's face turned imposing. "Who else was involved?" he asked his friend.

"A man named Ojo created a new personality inside me while another named Sensei carried out Ra's bidding alongside her." Ben explained. "Sensei hid my identity through that mask. Now that I remember some things, I realize it's cause he knew you'd come looking for me if you figured out the truth."

He looked back at his hands in consternation as they shook. "I can't remember the faces of those they made me kill, but I remember all the blood. So much blood, so much blood somuchblood…"

Ben suddenly roared at Shiva once more. "IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

Not taking his words lying down, she heedlessly spoke. "Spare me the ungratefulness. You were already under the League's employ before I had arrived."

Richard raised a brow and smiled a bit. Although she didn't say anything else or show it, he knew her well enough by now to see that left unsaid was how she did her best to draw less attention to him whenever possible. Even though Ben didn't recognize her at the time, she must've figured out his true identity regardless.

Unfortunately, because of his fragile mental state was currently fragile, Ben didn't seem to hear her. Richard left him to rest as he payed close attention to the satchel loosely held in Shiva's hand, drops of blood seeping out from the bottom. "Please don't tell me that's a head in there."

"It's not."

Richard accepted her words easily, knowing that lying was beneath her.

"How about you tell me why you're with the League now. Have you given up on your goal of martial perfection? Cause let me tell you, if you didn't… you picked a weird direction to go in." he chidingly spoke.

Shiva denied him. "I was raised in the ways of creation, but you can't create without first destroying. The League is the perfect teacher for such a concept."

"I see now. So the answer was serving Ra's Al Ghul." Richard narrowed his eyes at her.

"You know very well I serve no Master and bow to only one." she looked at him in disdain. "I offered up my services in payment. The Demon's Head merely recognizes my talents and makes full use of them. Should he go against our established agreements, I would face him without a moment's hesitance."

"Liar!" Ben snapped out of his trance as he suddenly shouted. "You slept with one of his prized murderers! Gave birth to a daughter and left him to abuse her. Left ME, to abuse her!

"Daughter?" Like he learned the greatest secret in existence, Richard's face morphed into disbelief. "You have a daughter?"

Shiva said nothing, Ben's eyes tracing the lines on her face. "I don't know why you kept it a secret, but I could tell. Not only is she your spitting image, but your skill and elegance for combat reside within her."

"Who's the 'murderer'?" Richard asked.

Ben's face struggled as he put his hands on his head, repeating some syllables as he pushed through his memory. 

"Da… Da… David Cain."

A flash of rage tried to overtake Richard before he swallowed it down, bits of it still leaking out as his tone turned a little harsh when he spoke to Shiva. "Explain yourself."

"I will do no such thing. It's not your place to question my choices." Shiva responded equally harshly. "No knowledge of the situation and quick to judge? You've regressed in your ways."

"I've regressed in my ways? You're out there sleeping with your sister's killer while I have a student in Hub City asking me if I've gotten any word of his first master. What should I tell him now?"

Shiva's eyes flickered before she abruptly drew her scimitar and charged at him. 

Richard darted through the clearing as her slashes missed him, cutting out a few pieces from the boulder beside her and branches from the surrounding trees. Becoming fed up after a couple more moments, Richard slammed his palm into her abdomen as she accepted the blow, stepping back harm-free. 

"You already know it'll take more than that for us to have a worthy fight." he taunted.

Shiva looked between Ben, Richard, and the disturbed clearing. "I had come to find Bronze Tiger's whereabouts. I found him free of control and healed alongside the Dragon. I engaged the two in combat before I was forced to flee."

Raising a brow at her words, Richard was speechless as he watched her start walking through the bridge's tunnel.

"The end of my journey is already within sight. I've realized what it is that I was missing." she spoke over her shoulder, turning to meet Richard's eyes. "Not only have I finally found what I love, but the day that it kills me draws nearer…"

"And I await it with bated breath."

Reaching the end of the tunnel, Shiva disappeared into the darkness, her voice echoing in Richard's mind. 

'What happened to you?' he wondered.

Lady Shiva was an abstruse woman for sure, her mind a puzzle to navigate and track since it seems to go down many contradictory directions. But Richard knew that was false. 

It was a well-thought-out charade. One that only needed to be slightly cracked to find the consistency revealed in her words and actions.

That consistency was missing today.

"I have to live with this shame for the rest of my life…" Richard ceased his thinking as he looked back to distraught Ben. "I remember whispers of a man who taught me the ways of gentleness. I've rewarded him with cruelty. I've cornered myself on the path of anger and death…"

Richard shook Ben when he saw him about to pass out, worried about his worsening health and discouraged mind. "I need you to stay with me. If you stay awake, I can remind you all about O-Sensei. I can also reshow you our dojo while I heal you there."

"Then…" Richard swore. "I'll do everything in my power to help you right this wrong."

Although Ben was already unconscious at the end of his words, Richard was unbothered as he gave him a piggyback ride. 

The moon hanging overhead, Richard faced the direction of New York University as multiple images flashed through his mind. A nostalgic smile crossed his face.

'Did you hear, Carolyn? You have a niece. One I'm now eager to meet.'

'And as doubtful as it seems… something tells me she has a soul as kind as yours.'

------------------

Date: August 18, 2008

Location: --/--/--

Time: Unknown / Around Night

"Dammit! I hate this place!"

Waving away the dragonfly buzzing in his face, a man sporting a blue beanie and wearing knee-high boots sloshed backward through muddy ground, carrying the front end of a large, unassuming black bag.

Carrying the other end of the bag as he steered the direction his blind partner needed to go was a second man wearing a Gotham Knight's jacket.

"Feeling's mutual. "Let's finish this up before some alligator pops up, or worse, Killer Croc."

Stepping over a particularly large patch of moss, the blue beanie man shivered in disgust. "Nah, that guy was sent packing a few days ago. It's why the boss was willing to make us come out here. What do you think this poor $*@)$# did to get offed?"

"You're out of your mind for even asking that." the Gotham Knight's jacket man hissed. "Do you wanna walk out with a bonus, or get iced and pecked to death?"

Shivering even more violently at the thought of forever shutting his eyes inside a frozen den, the blue beanie man shut his mouth. 

Oswald Cobblepot could be really generous with his employees when he wanted, but that side of him was barely noticeable when you think about the numerous enemies he's eliminated and fed to his killer penguins.

Gotham's underworld had been quiet for a while. Nobody was dying, nobody was trying to make a huge buck, and nobody was causing a commotion. Recently, everyone was content with trying to keep up with their normal operations without drawing the Bat's ire. 

But suddenly, calls started flooding the 'clean up' companies, requesting their services. The two guys were astounded when their boss told them that The Penguin himself was requesting their most discreet services, sending them off without delay.

Moving into deeper waters, the sound of frogs croaking was the two's only companion, the moon's light absent as they carefully waded through the darkness. They soon came upon rows of dead trees with long, thick, winding roots sticking out high up in the air. 

Standing upon a particularly large root like it was a bridge, the blue beanie man picked up a large stone before he threw it into the muddy waters below him, watching on till the ripples ceased and he lost any sight of its surface.

"What do you think?" the blue beanie man asked.

"It's perfect."

Carrying the bag one last time, they swung it a few times before launching it into the air. With a splash, the bag slowly sunk into the murky depths, vanishing from view.

"Good riddance!" the blue beanie man silently cheered.

The Gotham Knight's man was about to agree before his ear twitched. "Did you hear that?" he asked, warily trying to peer through the high stalks of cattail around them.

Taking a moment to listen, the blue beanie man soon dismissed his friend when he heard some hooting. "It's just some owls. Probably attracted by the splashing. Let's just get out of here."

Turning on his heels, the Gotham Knight's man hesitantly looked around for one last time before he followed his partner. 

"I could've sworn I heard groaning earlier…" he mumbled.

Calm was restored to the area after the two left, the nocturnal critters going on with their business as usual. But soon, the natural sound of the wilderness abruptly ceased.

Bubbles popped near the surface where the bag was thrown, a giant hand filled with writhing spores of fungus shooting out to grab onto the trunk where the two men had stood, squeezing it in half with its palm.

"... orn… on… Mond…"

Location: Outskirts of Downtown Gotham City, New Jersey, Slaughter Swamp

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Sorry for keeping you guys out of the loop and not updating for so long. I got blindsided by my college recently regarding med school applications, and I'm currently pulling my hair out. Usually, the application process wouldn't be relevant for so many more months, but when your school has its own health committee with connections to the top universities... things escalate fast.

My writing time has reached a standstill, and my focus is getting stuck on school again.

But fear not! Once again, for your reassurance, I haven't dropped this book. We're only just making progress, and I don't want to stop at the starting point.

It's just going to take some time till I can continue...

Which brings me to my current plan.

I'm going to be away from writing for one or two months (hopefully shorter) before I start back up. This will give me the much-needed time to finally go back and re-edit a few mistakes in earlier chapters while stocking up on more. We've pretty much reached the end of my stock, and I could use more for rainy days. I will also be brainstorming more ideas for later arcs and plot points with friends and just hanging out to relieve any lingering stress. 

And finally, most importantly, since I don't want you guys to continue paying your money for no reason, I've suspended the Patreon transactions until I start back up. I still have every cent you donated to me in the beginning in stock, and I'm determined to use it to find an editor to save myself some time. 

I will just be doing my best to make time to post the last two chapters for this mini reaction arc so that whenever I come back, we can get straight back into Ben's adventures. 

I ask you guys to send your wishes/prayers/blessings to me and all my endeavors while I do the same for you.

Thanks!

1) I like nice comments. They make me feel all fuzzy inside!

2) My power stone supply is dwindling... (Hint Hint, Wink Wink)

3) "Heathen! I demand you show me proof of a review!" - Some Guy