Dick was confused and disoriented. Everything was dark, and the mist that enveloped him made it seem even more eerie. At first he thought he was in the Batcave--after all that is where the car was programmed to take him--but nothing looked familiar. The last thing he remembered was the pain... and the look of fear in Tim's eyes. Now every thing was gone; no car, no pain, and no Tim. He scanned the shadows for some sign of Tim, but it was just too dark.

"Ti....uh Robin," he whispered with no luck. He called out just a little louder, but still got no response. Dick was beginning to worry. He attempted to activate the communicator in his suit, but everything seemed to have malfunctioned. Then he noticed movement within the shadows. A bright light filtered through, and the shadow moved within the light. It was a shadow he recognized, and one he was really happy to see. "Robin, where are we and how did we get here?"

Dick was looking around and finding it hard to break thought the fog. His confusion grew with his effort; something wasn't right. As he turned to confront his comrade, it suddenly became all too clear. The Robin that stood before him wasn't Tim Drake, but Jason Todd.

"~Hello, Nightwing, it's been a while. ~" Jason smiled as he stepped out of the shadows. Dick stumbled backwards; his legs suddenly felt like Jell-O. Fear shadowed his eyes. Jason caught his predecessor as Dick's legs finally gave out. "~Whoa, big guy, ~" Jason grimaced, "~ don't give up the ghost so soon. No one said you've died... yet. ~" He almost giggled as he eased his brother to the ground.

"Yet?" Dick paused, starting the motion to get up, "I don't understand? Where are we, and what's so funny?" Grayson gave up his motion, and lay back on the ground placing his hands over his eyes. He wished that he could close them so that when he opened them again he would awaken from a bad dream.

"~What do you remember?~" The spirit urged.

Grayson thought about it for a few minutes before he replied, "I remember ... My snitch 'Dondi' telling me there was suppose to be a big cargo of drugs coming in at the pier tonight. I remember breaking a date with Clancy again. And I remember being ambushed..."

The one time Boy Wonder slowly slid his hand down to the place where the bullet had entered his body, as he finally reached total recall. "Oh, God... no wait... you said I wasn't dead ... but you are... right? I mean you are Jason, right? Is this heaven? It's brighter in the Batcave. Oh man. This is giving me a headache. Wait, can you get a headache in heaven?"

"~Hey Grayson, chill man. Let me explain,~" Jason watched the leader of the Titans rub his temples trying to make sense of the situation. "~I guess you can say we're in limbo. Everyone here has choices to make. Some of us can't go back, and are not ready to go forward. Others like you are not ready to go forward, but are not ready to go back either."

Dick sat quietly with questions reeling through his head, but one haunted him most of all. "This doesn't make a lot of sense. What happened to me, happened only moments ago, but you've been... uh... gone a couple of years."

"~Really? Seems like yesterday, ~" the specter quipped.

"I don't understand, Jason. Are we given a choice, and if we are...Why do you stay?"

Taking on a serious demeanor the specter pointed out. "~ Actually you were injured hours ago, big bro. For those who are on this side there is no sense of time. As for myself...it's like I said--we all have a choice, and I will go when I am good and ready. ~" He smiled ever so slightly as a tear slid down his face "~ In my selfishness I hurt someone who trusted and cared for me. Someone who, in his own way, showed me love and respect and I shattered his trust and in the process got myself and my mother killed.~"

"Jason... that's not true!"

"~Look! You don't know! You weren't there! You were never there. ~" Jason regretted his outburst as he watched Dick's eyes filled with despair. "~ But I also know now it wasn't your fault. And I'm sorry. I know you didn't originally care for me, or the fact that I would wear the red and green, but it's like you said--you had moved on~." Jason stared down at the costume he cherished. "~I'm just sorry that I dishonored the trust that came with it. It wasn't until after I was caught... by the Joker, that I began to understand, but it proved to be too late. ~"

"No, Jason...you're wrong. I was the one who screwed up. I was wrong for allowing my own selfish emotions to block my ability to do what I knew was right. Like you said, I was never there. No one believes you...."

"~In this world, it only matters what I believe...~"

Bruce met the limo in the garage. He gently lifted Barbara from the car and requested that Alfred take her chair to the guestroom. When she started to object that she wasn't going to be carried everywhere she may need to go, he quickly quailed her objections by reminding her that he had a wheelchair in the cave, a memento of his first encounter with Bane.

"I'm sorry Bruce," she whispered.

He rewarded her with a small half-smile, and continued down the secret stairwell. "Barbara, what's going on? When you called you said you thought Dick was in trouble. How did you know?"

She pulled a file from her lap as he set her down in the chair at the bottom of the stairs. She opened the file as she said, "I made hard copies while I was waiting for Alfred. There's a disk as well. Dick's made a pretty powerful enemy; as you can see the price on his head keeps going up." She pointed to a figure in the file. "The mook on top is Mick Carmody, one of Blockbuster's men. Seems he's trying to stake claim to the prize." As she spoke, she wheeled herself to the med lab. Her first glance at the normally vital body that lay in front of them frightened her. He secured her in the chair, and activated the elevation mechanism, which lifted the chair to a standing height, so that she could see over the chaos of wires and tubes. She swept her hand softly across his cheek, fighting back the tears that eventually began to fall. "How is he?" She whispered.

"There had been no change since he was brought in."

She let her hand fall lightly across his chest. It was warm, but it didn't rise and fall with his breath, she could not feel the gentle thumping of his heart, and his abdomen wrapped in gauze showed little to no blood. There was no visible sign of life. Yet the board above him continued to beep.

Leslie walked up beside her and gave a report, "There was damage to the intestinal track and internal bleeding. Alfred and I had to do surgery to repair it. The bullet exited out his back, but it missed his spine, if just barely. I don't understand fully what is happening to him; right now, he doesn't respond to anything, so I can't tell to what extent the damages are to his body. If it were not for this med board above his head, I would have been preparing for a funeral." The hint of tears glassed over her eyes as she turned and pressed her hand against Bruce's cheek. "You two have gone to great extremes to make me doubt my abilities as a medical professional. I have seen you both heal from injuries in days that would have kept a normal man bedridden for months, but this tops it. I have treated what I could find, but I can't verify that we have found everything. Because his heart isn't pumping --at least not normally--and his internal systems have slowed down so drastically, I can't even tell if he's stabilized, or if anything I have done has done any good. He could still have internal bleeding. I wish I could do more, but I just don't know what." Bruce gathered the elderly woman who had done so much for him in his life into his arms as she cried. He never realized how much stress his career of choice had put on the person who had become his surrogate mother.

Tim lay quietly in the bed; sleep wasn't coming as quickly as the anger in his gut or the rogue tear that strayed down his face. The whole incident played and replayed itself in his mind until he wanted to scream. Nightwing never had a chance, for whatever insane thing might have taken him out that night had sealed the crimefighter's fate, and maybe even his. He should have made his appearance more quickly; he should have taken out more of the gang members; he should have warned Nightwing of the gunman on the rooftop. If Dick died, everything he worked so hard for would die with him. If he lived, by the time he's strong enough to return, if he is ever strong enough to return, everything will have reverted back the way it was when he first moved there. Maybe worse. Because they will have known that they brought down Nightwing, so they will no longer fear him. Such is the rule of the jungle they lived in. That is why Bruce chose Jean-Paul to take his place to become Batman after Bane defeated him once; to maintain the fear of retribution for the wrongs done to the good of Gotham. And that is what has to be done in Bludhaven. He had to make amends. Just as he decided what he had to do, the door opened, and Alfred peered in.

"Its ok, Alfie, I'm awake." Tim yelped as the butler entered the room, "What's wrong? Is Dick all right?"

"There has been no change in Master Dick," the elder man grimaced.. "I can only pray that it is a good thing. Master Bruce asked me to check on you. He was afraid you would not be able to rest. Shall get Doctor Thompkins to give you a sedative?"

"No! I'm fine. I'm just not tired. In fact, I've gotta go talk to Bruce," he admitted as he swung his legs out of bed. "I am sorry, young sir, but Master Bruce is not here. He has gone to Master Richard's apartment."

"Then that's were I'm heading," Tim announced as he bounded out of bed and passed Alfred as he left the bedroom.

Alfred chased the hurried youth out to the hall. "May I suggest sir that you dress before you do, so that you might not catch your death of cold."

Tim looked down realizing he was standing in the hallway in his Scooby-Doo boxer shorts and little else.

Tim turned to reenter the bedroom. Alfred mumbled supposedly to himself, " I guess I will have to dump this hot cup of cocoa," as they passed in the hall.

Tim, still blushing with the realization that he nearly went out in his underwear, had not even noticed the tray the butler was carrying, nor how hungry he had been all this time. The smell of the homemade cookies made his mouth water. "No need, Alf. I'll drink it while I get dressed, and I am kind of hungry."

"If you would like I could bring you a light meal. It would take only a moment to prepare."

"No, this will be fine." Tim said as he sipped from the steaming cup of cocoa. He sat the cup on the dresser and slipped into his jeans, stopping only to take another drink. The cup was nearly empty before he realized something was wrong. His legs were feeling like rubber and his thoughts were fuzzy--but not so fuzzy that he didn't figure out what his problem was. Alfred had put a sedative in the cocoa. The elderly man caught him as his knees finally buckled.

"Why?" He whispered, as he weakly pushed the man away, his eyes etched with betrayal.

"Forgive me, Master Tim," Alfred begged, "Master Bruce was afraid you would not be able to sleep, as well as predicted your desire to follow him to Bludhaven. It was at his request that I put the sedative in your cocoa." The last words fell on deaf ears. Tim had already fallen asleep. Alfred tucked the covers around the boy and cleaned the mess from the floor where the drink and china mug had fallen from his hands. Checking again on Tim he whispered, "I am sorry, my boy, but this time I believe Master Bruce is right. And at least by morning you will be rested enough to face whatever the day may bring, including your contempt for me." A shadow fell across the room as he quietly shut the door.

Dick wandered aimlessly among the shadows, his mind a whirlpool of memories. Both real and dreamt memories that kept him off-balance. Nothing made sense; nothing seemed real; yet everything was all too real. "Jason?"

"~Yes? ~" The spirit replied.

"Have we talked like this before? I mean since... uh... well since you... umm."

Jason laughed; he'd never known Dick Grayson to be flustered. " ~Kicked the bucket~" he teased, "~ Bit the big one. Or my personal favorite bought the farm? ~" It wasn't easy, but when he realized Dick wasn't laughing, he wiped the smile off his face and cleared his throat.

"~ Oh lighten up, Grayson, it's dreary enough around here. ~" Dick still didn't laugh. "~Okay, to answer your question, yes, you are what they call a sleepwalker, in the spiritual sense. Kind of like Shirley McLaine but without the *novel* approach."

"Yeah right," Dick grunted, "Next your gonna tell me Dionne Warwick really has the Psychic Connection."

"~You know, Grayson,~" Jason chastised "~ For someone who has worked with 'little green men,' flown in space craft, fought alongside mer-people, almost married a Princess from another planet, and is currently holding a conversation with a kid who's been dead as you say for few years, you sure have a closed mind ~"

A smile finally cracked through, and Dick found himself laughing. "I'm sorry," he giggled, "I guess I never thought of it in that context before."

"~Actually, you have opened the barriers between life and death a couple of times. Once when you were Robin you crossed too far during meditation and nearly didn't get back. Of course it wasn't me who helped you get home since I hadn't even been born yet. Geesh, you're practically a legend here too. Then there were other times during near-death experiences and when you slept, but most are not able to remember these times because of the vale of forgetfulness. ~"

"When do I go back?" The elder boy worried. "Can I go back? What are we suppose to do now?"

Jason looked down at his feet "~Dick the world you know may have been drastically changed. Yes, there is a way for you to get home, but it isn't easy, nor is it a guarantee,~" he waved his hand in the fog. Suddenly it cleared, and Dick found that he recognized where he was--the Batcave's infirmary. "Barbara? Leslie? What are you doing here?" He queried, but there was no response.

"~They can't hear you.~" Jason informed him as he pointed to the bed. Leslie and Barbara sat on either side of a body--his body to be precise. Both women appeared to have been crying.

*Oh God I hate to see Babs cry.* he thought aloud.

"~There is likely to be a lot more tears in her life and yours in days to come. Still not everyone is given a second chance~."

"Wait a minute didn't I see this in an old Christmas movie?" Dick mocked in disbelief. "Let me guess-you're the ghost of Christmas present?"

"~You say that like it's a bad thing~" Jason returned frowning "~ I guess I can also be called the ghost of Christmas past and future as well.~" Then with a wave of his hand he and Dick were standing in a bright light. As the glare eased, they were at beautiful bridge that crossed over a golden stream which looked like fire as it flowed innocently between Dick and the other shore. He listened as the fog began to lift on the other side of the water. He swore he heard the familiar sound of circus music. Then as the air cleared even more and they quickly moved inside the giant tent. Rings of lights shown down on the ringmaster as he announced the next act. "Ladies and gentlemen, the flying Graysons..."

High above them, costumed in the glories of gold and white, his mother and father acknowledged the crowd. He watched silently as a great pull of grief seemed to drag at him. Their performance was awe-inspiring. They seemed to be oblivious to him or to his guide as they flew undaunted by the memories of a different life.

"Mom... Dad..." he whispered as he started to cross the bridge.

Jason took the youngest Grayson by the arm and pulled him back. "~ Dick wait a minute.~" The one-time Robin said, "~ Unlike some of us, you were given a unique opportunity. You can cross over. But if you do, you won't be able to come back~."

Tears shined in the older boy's eyes as he watched his parents perform. For a moment it looked as if his mother were staring back. *Do they see me?* he wondered.

"~ They can't see you. ~" Jason replied as if he heard Dick's thoughts, "And right now if they did, they would not recognize you."

"~ They watched over you once for a long time. They refused to cross over. Then you became Bruce's ward, and they worried even more. Although they know Bruce would never hurt you intentionally, it was still a great cause of concern on their side. Then one day you changed--matured--and they realized you no longer needed them. You had Bruce, Batman and Alfred. Not to mention a very pretty babysitter that they really liked a lot. So they crossed over, unknowingly leaving behind all things that would bring them sorrow, including your memory. ~"

These words seemed to shatter everything Dick had convinced himself was the way of death. He had hoped that they missed him as much as he missed them. Again, Jason answered him as if the words had been spoken out loud. "~ They do seem happy, Dick.~"

Dick agreed as he wiped the moisture away from his face and tried to mask his pain with a smile. But it wasn't working. "Yeah, I guess they do," he sobbed.

"~ Dick they will remember one day. You're one of the lucky ones, man. Their love for you went deep into the soul, but you had grown to be a strong and good person. There was nothing more worry about anymore because you had found someone to help you become a man. But one day when you too cross over, they will know and love you as always~." Jason turned away trying to hide his own rough tears--he wasn't so lucky. "~Just understand, there is no sorrow on the other side. They don't know you are missing in their lives right now, but it doesn't mean they don't still love you. You need only cross over to know that love again. The choice is yours. Do you cross over? ~"

"No!" Startling them both, a third voice interrupted their conversation through the fog. Suddenly the vision vanished.

Dick felt a minute of confusion; he recognized the voice and bolted in the direction of the sounds. Praying he was wrong. But as the fog began to lift he found himself face to face with the third Robin, "Tim."

"~ Tim ... Drake? ~" The spirit questioned. "~ Man, talk about birds of a feather ~."

"I don't know what this dude is trying to feed you, but you have to come back! We need you. Bruce needs you." He insisted then, almost as if someone had dragged the truth from him, "I need you."

Dick seemed to be afraid of what he was seeing as he slowly reached out in the boy's direction and quickly pulled away before they touched. "How? Oh God, Jason, please tell me this is an illusion." Unlike the other Robins, Tim didn't seem to have a solid quality to him.

"~ Well, in a way it is. ~" Jason admitted.

"Is not," Tim objected. "I'm real, at least I think I am."

"~ That's true too ~." Jason muttered. Both man and boy turned to the specter. "~ Like I told you before it's not unusual for some souls to cross over in their sleep. They are tethered to their bodies by a lifeline. When he awakens he'll be pulled back safe and sound. ~"

Tim stood confused and scared as he faced the two ex-Robins. His thoughts were as transparent as his physical form. "~ Don't worry, Tim. What you are experiencing, ~" Todd continued to explain, "~ Is a dream-state. You have reached a state of unconsciousness so deep that your soul has wandered away from its body. I guess your concern for Dick's safety must have brought you here. ~"

Dick wasn't so quick to believe what he hearing--or seeing for that matter. "Is that right? Are you asleep, Tim?"

"I like THAT theory more than the alternative," the youngest Robin admitted. "I don't think this has ever happened before. Must have been caused by Alf's cocoa," he recalled. "Can you believe it, he slipped me a mickey."

"But you're ok?" Dick questioned.

"Oh, just peachy. My best friend is hanging on to life by a thread, I've been drugged--and get this--the BUTLER DID IT. And if that wasn't exciting enough, while I wait to wake up, I'm hanging out with the dead and near-dead. Oh yeah, I'm fine thanks for asking." Tim paused to give the specter a menacing glare in what he thought was an underhanded attempt to play on Dick's emotions.

"Look man, I know you miss your parents. I miss my mom, too," Tim explained, never taking his gaze off Jason, "but there are others who care about you too. Others who are alive and love you. Like Babs."

"~ Hey wannabe, ~" Jason mumbled, "~ Did HE teach you that glare or have you just been hanging out with the Bats too long?" Tim was already on edge, so that Jason's taunt sparked physical violence in Tim.

Dick easily blocked a punch that Drake took at his predecessor. "Cool it both of you!" he yelped having to step between the ruckusing youths. "You guys are acting like kids." Holding them at arms length of either side of him till they stopped struggling. Then he smiled. "Oh yeah...that's right ... you ARE kids." He laughed as he tried to walk away. He was thwarted as both boys popped him on the back of the head before he could take his first step, and the war was on.

Eventually all three of the boys stopped tussling, everyone sitting, and staring at each other. Nobody was really sure what just happened. Jason decided that since he had the upper hand, maybe now would be a good time to explain their predicament. "Tim, I wasn't trying to talk Dick in to crossing over." Jason Todd began to explain. "The choice was given to him, because he's allowed to choose. I guess you could say he earned it. But more importantly the alternative will not be easy."

"What do you mean? You said all he has to do is wake up and his tether will pull him back." Tim objected, "Come on man, wake up."

"~ No ... I said all YOU had to do was wake up for him its not that easy. Dick was dying...~," Todd explained, "~... his soul had already begun to cross over to the other side when he invoked the Tibetan technique that stopped him from completing the journey. It's as if he threw a lifeline to prevent himself from falling. ~"

"Force of habit, I guess." Dick smirked.

"~ Unfortunately, it created a problem or two. Now there are two lines that hold you to this world. One, a spiritual tether, protects you from the demons of this realm that will keep your soul from returning back to your body. But it is too weak to support your life alone. ~" he paused hold his hands apart as if they were pulling something in two separate directions "~ The second, the life line if you will, now holds you to your body and can lead you back, but not while your spiritual tether is still attached. This is were it gets a bit sticky... if the spiritual line breaks AND your body and soul survive the separation, it will leave your soul vulnerable to the spirits and tormented souls that haunt this realm. Some will know you and you will know them, some only want to help, but others will have but one goal, to see you suffer as deeply and painfully as they do. ~"

"So what are trying to say? That he's some kind a prize in a tug a war and if the wrong line breaks it will kill him, and if the right one breaks something else will kill him?"

Dick walked away from the conversation. To him, the solution was clear. "I have to sever the spiritual line."

"No!" Tim screamed, "YOU'LL DIE!"

"Like you said if the wrong one breaks I can't control the out come. At least the this way I have a fighting chance."

"And if both lines break? Or the wrong one breaks?" The boy wonder countered.

"Then I guess I die."

"~Not necessarily. ~" Jason insisted. Both Dick and Tim turned to meet his eyes. "~Your body can survive the separation from the Spirit. Even if both life tethers break, your body-your heart, lungs, and brain--can function without the soul, although the longer you are separated, the harder it will be to return. ~"

"Then what do I do? Click my heels three times and say, "There's no place like home. There's no place like home?"" Dick asked.

"~ Dorothy's return home was a picnic compared to what you face.~" Jason antagonized. "~ The demons you will face are angry, but one will be harder to defeat than all the other combined--yourself. If you lose faith in yourself, Dick Grayson, and your ability to know the difference between good and evil, and right and wrong, you will defeat yourself. So if you choose to go, you will have to fight, as you have never fought before. Remember, the loss of this fight will mean the lost of your very soul. ~"

"Uh oh," Tim whispered, "Something's happening." Dick turned to see Tim appear to fade in and out of view.

"~ It's okay Tim. ~' Jason explained, " ~ You are about to return home. ~"

"No! I got to help Dick. I want to stay. Please, I can help."

Dick smiled. He too was afraid, but he would not risk Tim. Even if there were a way to stop Tim's return. "Tim, Alfred once said that there was an uncanny connection between the two of us. That it was as if our souls were connected. Maybe he is right after all; you seem to always be there for me. Maybe that is why you were there the day my parents were killed. It could be the reason you were at the pier, and the reason you're here now. If it's true maybe you can help."

"I can, just ask," the youngest Robin begged.

"Then go back, stay safe, and take care of Barbara and Bruce. If I can, I will return. Maybe with you there I can find my way home like you always seem to find me. If not, then remember the good times. My dad once told me that as long as there are good memories, we live in happiness forever." Dick felt a tear run down his face as he watched Tim fade from sight.

"Be safe little brother," he whispered. "Be safe."

Tim awoke screaming Dick's name. The dream faded quickly in the afternoon light that now peeked through the drapes. He quickly fell from the bed, stumbling to the door as he fought against what was left of the sedative in his system. Bruce and Leslie both ran into the corridor in response to the commotion. Bruce grabbed the panicked boy, trying to calm his fears. "Tim! TIM!! Calm yourself! There's been no change since last night." Bruce insisted, struggling to keep the boy from tumbling down the stairs.

Leslie tried to make sense of the boys words to no avail."Timothy, if you don't calm down I will be forced to sedate you."

"Bruce,.. Leslie ...please help him.. He's in trouble ...please don't let him die."

"Okay, Tim, I was just heading downstairs to check on him anyway," Leslie confirmed.

Without warning, all the lights in the mansion began to blink on and off. Tim broke free from Bruce's grip and jumped the rail to the first floor and to the hidden entrance of the Batcave with Bruce close on his heels. They found Alfred and Barbara struggling to hold down Dick's seizing body. Leslie came of the elevator to the infirmary just in time to see the read outs on the medical board rise to normal and then fall to nothing. Bruce began CPR while Leslie dropped an endotracheal tube and fastened an air bag to it. Moments later Leslie recognized that his heart and lungs were finally working on their own, and the med board confirmed Leslie's recognition. He was still in trouble though. His heart was weak, his lungs were beginning to fail again, and his brain pattern showed that he was in coma. No, this fight was far from over. But these were readings she could understand, and for the first time since he was brought in, she felt like she had some control.

After the crisis had subsided, Bruce turned to Tim who was holding a hysterically crying Barbara. He kept repeating, "He's back. They got him back." Bruce worried about his surrogate daughter, for she been through a lot and seen that much more, and yet this was tearing her apart. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as Alfred injected her with a sedative. She still rocked herself back and forth, as she mumbled, "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me again. Please." Her words were almost a whisper.

Bruce asked, "Alfred what happened?"

"Miss Barbara noticed a fluctuation in the monitor's reading, but when I looked up everything was as it had always been. Then moments later, the readings fluxed again. Then all of the sudden the whole panel began to light up, and he began to seize. I am truly grateful that you and Doctor Thompkins arrived when you did."

"We responded as soon as we got your signal," Bruce responded.

"Forgive me, sir, but both myself and Miss Barbara were too busy to have gotten to the alarm."

Leslie walked up to the group as they tried to explain the power surge that probably saved Dick's life. "Tim, when we were upstairs you were sure Dick was in trouble. How did you know?"

"I'm not sure," he whispered lowering himself to the floor and clasping his head in his hands. "It all feels so strange, Leslie. It was like a bad nightmare. When I woke up, I was more scared than ever, but now I can't remember any of it."

"How is he?" Bruce asked.

Everyone looked back at the infirmary as she explained; "Right now he is in a coma, his heart is strong, and he's breathing with assistance, but the voluntary functions are beginning to shut down. The good news is I can at least understand and treat these readings." She sighed.

"But?" urged Bruce, who could see that there was more she was not saying.

"If there is marked improvement in the next couple of days of so, I would like to discuss his case with Doctor Chambers and Doctor Newman. Maybe even see about moving him to a hospital or at least upstairs."

The mention of her neuro-surgeon brought Barbara out of her funk, "Dr. Newman? Doctor Ben Newman?" Newman had been called on as a specialist in nerve repair to take over her case after the Joker's bullet had shattered her spine.

"Originally," Leslie nodded, "I had hoped that his lack of response to stimulus in the lower extremities had been because of the mental block he had put up, but it would appear that wasn't the case. He appears to have no feeling in his legs."

"Let's not panic," she calmly stated, hoping to keep everyone, especially Barbara, calm as well. "It could be temporary. After all, the bullet did get really close to his spine, and it may be reacting to the shock. But whatever the problem is, the sooner we locate it, the sooner we can treat it."