"Yeah, I think so." Quiet, very quiet, and the words were coming hard. "I remember flying with them. The tightrope. Remember falling asleep curled up against an elephant." His voice softened with fondness, at that.

He moved, for the first time since remembering ... that, to run a hand back through his hair. "Somebody frayed a rope before a show. No safety net. In Gotham. That's how I stayed there, I think. It... seems like it was a long time ago."

He couldn't say it was all right, because right now, it wasn't.

By the time the car stopped, he'd recovered some of his color, though not quite the smile. He stepped out of the car, rolling his shoulders a bit.

"Right. Coffee. Sorry for... dumping this out." He wasn't quite lost to memory enough to miss Hartley's reactions. "It all just hit me when I thought of circus and trapeze..."