Deathstroke and Kitty's conversation was inaudible to everyone except Batwoman, and Christopher lying in the bed was naturally no exception.
After jolting awake from the dream, he lay with his eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling. The body-monitoring equipment beside the bed occasionally emitted an electronic beep, at least proving that he had not slept himself to death again.
The hospital room he was in was nowhere near as terrifying as the nightmare. There were no venomous snakes or spiders, and everything was standard Arkham Asylum issue. Given that he was in a Vegetative State, he was not even wearing the orange prison uniform, but a zebra-striped patient's gown.
The room was unlit as well. There was no point in turning on the lights in a vegetative patient's room, so when Batwoman once again approached his bedside through the darkness, the man showed no reaction at all. Not even his eyes moved; only his chest heaved wildly.
"He might not be able to say anything, Batwoman." Deathstroke examined the patient's condition in reality and offered the Dark Knight a suggestion. "Take him out of Arkham and bring him to Harley's place in New York. Let Strangle read his mind."
After more than twenty years in a Vegetative State, his physical motor functions had probably deteriorated almost completely.
The ability to speak was, at its core, physical movement from a series of muscle groups—the vocal cords, mouth, cheeks, and so on—that altered the friction frequency of airflow.
In Christopher's condition, he would need at least a few days to recover before he could speak. Reading his memories directly would be much more convenient.
As for using Panacea or magical potions? Did those cost nothing? Even if the cost was low, they were still resources under their control. Naturally, a method