Unaware that someone was in the room, the costumed crusader spun on his heel, planted his feet and prepared for action, but his body simply could not tolerate that sort of movement.  He allowed the nurse to escort him back unto the bed with a bit of incredulity in his posture because he was naturally opposed to the idea of anyone aiding him, but complied anyhow.  The youth painted a sad image as he crawled unto the bed: he resembled more an 80-year-old man with arthritis than an individual of his age.<br/><br/>"... Where am I?" he finally asked.   "What happened to me?  How long have I been out?"  All truly valid questions; New York City betrayed no answers behind the glass window panes.<br/>