Even while trapped within the realms of a few square metres, Jason could sense something is off.

The butler wears an expression of perpetual sorrow, hurrying back and forth as if being harried by something urgent. Dick's visits ceased to a mere few times, but his mood significantly improved - a few days ago he was still unwilling to leave, but now, he says to Jason: "I found a way - a way to help us!" And then vanishes.

Jason relaxes, finally able to have some time to himself. Yet at the same time, he senses emptiness. He scolds himself for feeling this way, determined that he was only mourning the loss of a communication to the outside world - and then scolds himself some more - What outside world? This is only an illusion.

According to the script, I died. Our teacher revived me using the Lazarus. I was the little prince's teacher - I know Talia. Ah, Talia. That wickedly brilliant woman. Dick looked like he'd been brainwashed - our teacher went back on his word - what does he want, exactly? But Dick looks like he's getting better. Hm. Batman got trapped in the Maze. I got beaten up for trying to save him. Why is it always me that's getting hurt? Our teacher has access to the Lazarus - Dick injected it into my body. That damned Lazarus...

Am I dead? Or am I still suffering in the Pit? Where am I?

Jason's mind rambles, unable to grope for an answer. But he'd expected this. He also has a method of dealing with his hallucinations - but he wants to save it as a last resort.

If this were reality, then...

Jason accepts the current circumstances, waiting for the other parts of his brain to stop tormenting him, to let him awaken.

Damian pulls open the metal door, revealing Jason stretched on the bed, his eyes staring at the blank ceiling. The man hasn't changed from his time at the League - he'd either space out or yell at empty air - or kill whomever he saw. Sometimes he'd be responsive to talk, but rarely. Damian treasured those rare moments when his teacher kept his sanity.

Jason does not move but for his lips: "You are my first guest for the past few days - except for that old butler."

Damian frowns as he strides over. He's not in the mood for banter. "I need information. The maze."

His father's condition is worrisome. Since his escape, he'd remained befuddled, plagued by paranoia even more than usual. He'd lock himself in his room, or researched the Court on his own. He'd forbid them all from interfering, keeping to the task alone.

But this is impossible. Batman needs help. Even without knowing the Court's history, Damian knows that Gotham has fallen into its hands.

The maze changed Batman.

Jason does not look at Damian, but the latter is certain he'd heard him.

"Tell me, what is the maze like?" Damian leans against the wall, defeated. "Since coming home, father has changed."

"He got out?" Jason is more interested at Batman's success in his escape. "On his own?"

"Yes." Damian lowers his head, thoughtful. "According to Pennyworth, he blew up the floor of the maze, leaving through the sewers."

"And then got back by himself?"

Damian does not answer, averting his eyes.

Jason sneers. The kid is still a terrible liar. He'd only refuse to answer questions he does not want to answer. From this, Jason deduces: "There's neither water nor food in the maze. Even if Batman could bear that, he'd be unable to come back alone. Someone helped him. But you don't want to tell me."

"Correct. My mother. She'd stayed in Gotham, helping the Court research serums for reviving Talons. I realized this as soon as I recognized the liquid from the back of those giants the other day." Damian droops his head. "The Talons were brought to life again and again because of the Lazarus. You were brought back because of the Lazarus... the League of Assassins have been working with the Court of Owls all these years, and yet I knew nothing of it!"

"Relax, kid. Instead of asking about the maze, which is a mere test at which your father is the only one to ever pass, you should be asking your mother why she's working against her lover - why is she helping those evil owls?" Jason sits up on the bed, a flicker of slyness seeping into his green eyes. "But to make things clear, Talia has always been this kind of person. Accept it. Your mom is evil. Haha."

Damian purses his lips, his eyebrows knotted into three deep creases. This is something no child would want to accept.

"How long has it been since you saw her?" Jason coaxes, his voice sickly sweet. "Or rather, how long has it been since she ditched you here? She abandoned you at last?"

The harsh words plunge into Damian's heart. Despite his resolve as a warrior, he's still at an age when children relied on their mothers. It is as Jason said. Since taking him to Bruce, his mother has not contacted him even once - as if she'd never had a child.

"No! She's only testing me! To see if I can wear the mantle!"

"Then why does she not visit you? Maybe she's too disappointed in you."

Damian's head snaps up. Wary creeps into his eyes. "You are saying these things on purpose. I'm not stupid."

Jason snickers. "But you took the bait. Go find her - and take me with you. I have things to ask her as well."

"I don't believe you. You don't remember me. And are hallucinating."

"Who said I'd forget you, little prince?" Jason tilts his chin at a determined angle. "I still remember how I kicked you into the pool while you were chomping on grapes. Our first meeting too, how romantic."

Damian stares at Jason when he called him "little prince", then his expression flitted between disbelief, anger, and embarrassment. He rushes over, yanking Jason by the collar. "You bastard! You lied to me! You told me you don't remember!" 

Jason rolled his eyes, mumbling. "You should respect your teacher." He nudges Damian away.

Taken by surprise, Damian falters a few steps.

"Get this off of me." Jason tries to move his arms, but only managed to wiggle within the straightjacket.

Damian narrows his eyes, still unwilling to fully believe Jason has recovered. "What if you lash out again?"

Jason relaxes upon hearing this. Looks like the kid has decided to go find Talia. That makes things easier.

"You should be glad I'm insane. If not, I'd ignore you."

"Why?"

"You think someone sane would talk to their hallucinations?"

"You think I'm a hallucination?"

"More accurately, I don't trust anything my eyes are seeing."

Talia's choice of residence is as glamorous as her visage: the presidential suite of the best hotel in Gotham. From the top, behind floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the entire city sprawls out beneath in a myriad of lights. The stars in Gotham exist not in its dreary skies, but on its streets.

Jason and Damian easily dodges the security, slithering into this impressive suite. Lights have been dimmed to the exact shade of comfort, highlighting the most magnificent aspects of the room. With every step he takes on the hand woven carpets, Jason felt as if he's throwing away one dollar.

Whistling, Jason flops onto the soft couch and opens a hidden fridge door, taking out a bottle of whisky. He gulps it down without ice. Damian shoots him a look of disgust before sitting down beside him. His face looks even tenser than usual. Jason feels tired just look at him.

"Relax, kid." Jason slides closer to Damian, patting his shoulder.  "Don't be nervous. Though your mom is a bad person, but she's a good- I mean... also a bad mom. Condolences."

Damian slaps his hand away. "Shut up."

"Don't get angry. It's not like you are the only kid with a bad mom. At least you have a good dad."

"I don't think Batman is a good father. He..." Damian trails off, mixed emotions lingering in the air.

"What about him, my child."

Talia glides down the stairs. Her evening gown is jewel-less, but undoubtedly expensive. Jason knows not about fashion, but he'd always thought her beautiful. But her perpetual look of superiority has always perplexed the penniless Jason.

"Hello, you wretched rich person." He greets her heartlessly. "I brought your son. He wants to ask you stuff."

Damian stares at his mother sliding towards him, his mouth open for a long moment before managing his words. "How have you been, mother."

Talia laughs, the sliver of mockery irritates even Jason.

"My child, did you only learn useless chatter from your father?" She sits across from them, crossing her long legs. "I'm very disappointed."

Damian's face reddens for but a moment. "Mother, I have something I want to ask."

"About the Court? I know their declaration of war towards Batman, and I know what you want to ask. Indeed, the League has always been an ally of the Court. Compared to Batman, the Court is much stronger. The League never needs to align itself with weaklings."

"Father is no weakling! He's stronger than anyone!"

Jason interjects: "That I admit. He'd escaped from the maze alone, and survived for this long."

Talia sneers. "But he's but one person. His students are either unwilling to take his mantle, or not yet mature enough." She glances at Damian, pointedly.

"What are you doing for the Court?"

Jason interrupts. "She brings them water from the Lazarus Pit. They replicate the sample with their own inferior serums, even though they have better means available." He looks at Talia.

She neither agrees nor denies - an obvious answer. But Damian is still confused - why make inferior serums when better ones are available.

As if reading Damian's thoughts, Jason says: "No one can survive the better serums. All the bodies they've experimented on have turned into disgusting puddles." He pauses, as if thinking of something funny. "Their only success turned crazy, haha!"

"But why? You are my mother. And you are father's...." Damian doesn't know how to address his parents' complicated relationship.

"His wife?" Talia smiles. "First of all, I never considered myself his wife. Though I do admire him, it does not mean I must be on his side. I only do what is best for me. You should learn this from me, my child."

Damian bites his lips. He lunges to his feet and storms out of the suite. Jason spies the look of disappointment on the child's face.

"You are too straightforward, Talia." Jason takes out a glass and pours the whisky, pushing it across the coffee table. "He's only a child."

"My child and that of Batman. This dictates that he'll never be an ordinary child." Talia narrows her eyes, turning her attention to Jason. Her look turns icy. "I knew he'd come find me, but I didn't expect you."

"Oh, is that so." Jason puts down the whisky. "Hi Talia, it's been a while. I have something to ask you too."

"What?"

"I think I'm trapped in my hallucinations again."

"Then why are you here?" Talia removes her jewellry, throwing the pieces around the room. Her perfect makeup becomes marred by a fatigue she'd not shown in front of Damian, instantly aging her by years. "It's illogical to seek advice from a hallucination."

"No matter which one I'm trapped in, you've always pointed me in the right direction. Isn't this strange? It's as if you are the embodiment of reason. I never thought I'd have an evil conscience."

"Cut the fluff. I'm not Damian."

"Fine.." Jason stretches. "I saw Dick. He's brainwashed. My teacher has gone against the deal between us - I'm angry. And then what happened. I think I got injured. So Dick got actual Lazarus Pit's water to give to me."

"So?"

"I can't tell whether what I'm seeing is real or not." Jason paws his hair. "I don't know what I should do now...."

"You have a way of discerning," Talia's lips curl in interest. "You told me once that you had a dream while in the Lazarus, one where you and your little lover left the Court, and then..."

It was Jason's first ever hallucination.

He didn't die on that mission. When he'd opened his eyes, he found himself in a cottage in the Caribbeans. Dick had looked at him with tiredness but elation. He told him he'd survived, and they'd taken the chance to escape.

It was an island cut off from the world. The native residents spoke a different language, and distrusted outsiders. But Dick always had the knack of winning people over. Within a few days, they'd offered them help, teaching them their language and their ways. Jason and Dick lived as they did, enjoying the primitive but free lifestyle.

If the dream had continued, then maybe Jason really had died, his bones and flesh corroded by the Lazarus, becoming one with its green waters.

But when Dick died protecting a child from pirates, the dream shattered, as if unable to proceed without its main character.

It was then that Jason realized that if Dick were to die, whether the dream was good or bad, the hallucination would vanish.

Jason rubs his temples, pained. "I can't kill Dick to confirm. What if it's real?... Then he'd really die."

"Then why do you not try to use another way of controlling your hallucinations?" Talia presses. "You've always been led by the nose by your hallucinations. Why do you not take control of them instead, to submit them to your will?"

"What?"

"If this were a dream, then you are its master. Why do you not take control of it? If this were reality, then even more so - because this is your fate." Talia says. "I've always admired you, Jason. Despite humble origins, you possess an indomitable will - I believe you have the ability to take control of yourself even better than my father did. I'm not your reason, Jason. You are."

The words light up something within Jason's muddled mind, a clarity on par with the parting of the Red Sea. Information connected, neurons snapping back into place.

Talia watches him, satisfied.

"What should I do first?"

"Didn't the Prosecutor want to meet with you?" She tantalizes him, her voice slithering like that of the snake of Eden. "Go."