I'm sorry to say that this will be another relatively boring chapter :[ I hope you get as much out of it as you can and will sit tight until the excitement gets here--it's getting here soon, promise, with special appearances :] Happy reading, you crazies.

Disclaimer: Honestly, who reads these disclaimers? You all must know Batman isn't mine--cuz if it was, I wouldn't need to be on , would I?

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Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat.

I saw him many times after our encounter in Outlaw Field. In my dreams, that is. Almost every night after that meeting, I saw him after I'd drifted into sleep. On that account, sleeping had become my favorite pastime, and I did much of it. It had gotten to a point where if I wasn't at the high school, teaching, I was at home, asleep. If the only way to be with Jonathan was in my dreams, then I was determined to sleep for the rest of all time.

I slept so much that I was totally oblivious to what was going in the city around me, like Harvey Dent, the new DA, sweeping the streets clean of all those criminals at once; the Joker murdering Commissioner Loeb and several other innocents; the death of Rachel Dawes. I wasn't even aware that the Scarecrow had escaped from Arkham Asylum again until one of my students mentioned it before class one day. Actually, I didn't even know that he'd been sent back…

It wasn't until Hollis's car accident that I really woke up. It happened the same day Miss Dawes died; she was driving home from work when some maniac collided with her. Her Passat was completely ruined, but I didn't care about the car--she was in a critical condition. So critical that they had her on life support at the hospital; severe brain damage. There was nothing that they could do for her. She was only alive because that machine allowed her to be.

Whether it was a day or a week later that the Joker destroyed the hospital, I don't remember. All I remember was the ultimatum he gave Gotham on the news: either Coleman Reese got killed, or Gotham General was going to explode. Well, Reese lived, but everyone managed to get out of the hospital safely before the Joker blew it to smithereens--everyone including my poor cousin. They couldn't get her out unless they pulled the plug on her. She died before they even got her on one of the buses.

My cousin, Hollis, the only person left in the world that I knew loved me, the only piece of flesh and blood that I had left of my beloved father, died. Alone. Despite the hundreds of people around her.

I called the school and told them I needed some time off. They gladly let me have it. I made arrangements for a funeral. I called Hollis's boyfriend and my Uncle Steve. All of her friends that I found the numbers to in her phone. I told them all the news, listening to all of them cry and telling them it was okay (it wasn't). I cleaned her room and put every one of her belongings in boxes, except for the few things I wanted to keep. I took the teddy bear off of her dresser and laid it in my bed. I slept with it that night as I had the TV on, set to Grey's Anatomy, her favorite show. I pretended she was watching it in the living room.

We held the funeral a few days later. During those few days, Harvey Dent had died. No one was sure how or why. The Batman was on the run. Everyone said that he killed those people (I didn't believe that). And they tried putting the Joker in Arkham, but couldn't hold him. He escaped within twelve hours. No one was really surprised.

A lot of people showed up to say their last goodbyes to my cousin--most of them being her friends, but a few of my colleagues showed up to give me moral support: my fellow teachers in the arts department. Mr. Silvers, the other theater teacher, the choir and band directors Miss Newman and Mr. Church, and Mr. Skye, the visual arts teacher. All of them older; all of them having been to several funerals. None of them knew that before this one, the only other funeral I had attended was my own father's.

I didn't give a speech inside the church; I didn't want to. I didn't want to talk to all these people, most of which I didn't particularly care for, especially the majority of Hollis's friends. There was one girl, however, named Sara, that I liked a lot; the only one in the group that was able to handle a funeral sober and the one that Hollis was closest to. She talked at the altar. She said beautiful, wonderful things about my cousin; things I didn't know before, or that I did, and I had just forgotten. I stopped paying attention to most of what Sara said after she mentioned the Joker being responsible for Hollis's death and the deaths of so many others. I gazed out one of the windows and wondered if that clown had ever felt any kind of remorse for the things he'd done.

I had trouble looking at her body in the casket. She was a gorgeous woman, even in death. Her blonde hair was still shiny, fair skin was still clear and pretty, lips still full and pink, hands still clean and soft, but she was cold. So very cold. How strange for a person who had been so warm-hearted.

As I leaned over to give her one last look, I wished I could have looked in her eyes again, one last time. Before she'd be six feet under the ground. Her blue eyes had been the most beautiful I'd ever seen--well, second. Only to Jonathan.

I only went to the dinner afterward because my uncle insisted.

"I've gotta talk to you about something," he said sternly as he walked me to my car.

I said all right, noticing then that I had barely spoken a word in days.

I was on auto-pilot for most of the dinner. I indulged in the lasagna and the pastries, sitting quietly at the corner of one of the longer tables and nodding my head along with whatever Mr. Silvers was saying. Something about getting a substitute for me while I took my time recouping. I snapped out of my trance long enough to tell them that it was going to take quite a while for me to do that. He smiled sympathetically at me and patted my shoulder and I wished I could have smiled back. He was such a good man; I'd have been lost in my department without his help.

Uncle Steve wandered over to my table several minutes later.

"Can I steal my niece for a bit?" he asked charmingly, patting his beer belly.

Mr. Silvers nodded and helped me out of my chair and I followed my uncle to the other side of the room. He picked out a small table for two and pulled out my chair for me. He rested his elbows on the edge and looked at me with his dark orbs for eyes, reminding me hauntingly of my mother.

He even sounded like her when he spoke. "Rainy…first of all, I'm real sorry about Hollis."

"I know," I muttered quickly, but he went on with the condolences, making it even more painful.

"I know she was all you had left of your dad, and I still say to this day, your dad and his brother were good guys--and Hollis was just like her daddy--"

"I know she was."

"When your Uncle Fred died, and your dad took her in--"

"I know, Steve."

"--sweetest thing I ever seen anybody do. I mean, sure, it were his twin brother's only kid, so of course he took her in, but still--"

"I know, Uncle Steve," I said hotly, finally looking up at him. I wanted to cry again, but my eyes felt too dry for any more tears.

He looked at me somberly, extending his hand over the table and I let him take mine, feeling my mother's as he touched me.

"I sure am sorry, honey bunny."

I merely nodded. There was nothing to say, except for maybe the predictable "it's okay," but it wasn't okay, so I didn't say it. I figured I'd done enough lying.

"I'm especially sorry that I have to bring something up on you now, of all times."

I furrowed my brow, still clutching his hand. He didn't pull away as he trod on a new subject.

"Listen, I uh, I'm going on this trip in a couple o' days," he started guiltily, scratching at his thick neck with his free hand. "I'mma need some help over at the house. I'd ask Dora to do it, but she's uh--coming with me."

I rolled my eyes, wanting to smirk, but couldn't pull the muscles in my face to do it.

"So would you do me a big--big favor," he began, "and look after the horses while I'm gone? I know it's your time off, and I hate to ask, but there's--there's really nobody else…and the horses, they like you, and you can ride 'em around if ya want--"

"Sure, Uncle Steve," I told him, smiling as much as I could. "Of course I'll do it."

"Ya sure, honey bunny?" he asked, concerned, although his eyes got brighter. "I'll pay ya if ya feel that--"

"No, it's okay, you're family," I said, and realizing out loud, "the only--family I've really got left now. Don't worry about it."

"But--aw, honey, I want to--"

"I know, but it's fine. Really..."

"Ya totally sure about this? It's a whole two weeks I'll be gone--"

"It's fine," I said again. "It'll be good to get out there…"

"I still got the Internet up there, and the cable works good," he added. It was nice of him to remember how much time I spent online. "And I still got the dogs, so they'll keep ya safe, if you get worried."

I tried smiling again. "Thanks. I'll be fine. I really don't mind doing this for you."

He grinned madly and patted my head, tousling my hair.

"Thanks, sweetie. I really appreciate it--man…after all this time, I still can't get over how much you look like your mama."

I felt the color drain in my face as his hand left my locks. Noticing, he winked at me.

"But--you got your daddy's eyes."

I grinned genuinely for the first time in about a week and patted my uncle's hand. "Yeah…"

"Miss him, honey bunny?"

My eyes fell to the table.

"Yeah…Great man, he was…just--just make sure you make him happy up there with Jesus and all by keeping a look out for yourself, huh?"

I met his gaze and wrung my hands in my lap. "I am. I'm fine." God, I was so sick of that word.

"Really though, with all these maniacs running around Gotham," he started sternly, waving a finger at me, "you gotta be real careful. Okay? The only funeral I wanna go to after this one is my own. I don't wanna see your pretty face all cold and stony in a box, honey bunny."

Annoyed as I was by his overprotective nature, I couldn't help but giggle slightly at his humor.

"I mean it now, Rainy," he continued, chuckling at himself, but added seriously, "I really do mean it. Stay safe and keep yourself outta trouble. Stay away from them crazies--especially that clown--I don't wanna know what'd happen to ya if he got his hands on ya somehow, so watch ya step. Don't go looking for trouble, honey."

"I'll be fine," I told him honestly.

"Be careful who you mess with now, honey," he continued. "Ya never know who's tied with who these days…Ya--ya can meet someone great and then find out they're tangled up in some--crazy mess with somebody like that Joker. Never know who he's gonna pick on next. I wouldn't be surprised if he's got all the criminals in Gotham on his side…"

I swallowed hard, giving that idea so much thought that I didn't hear him plead with me again.

"You listenin' to me, Rain?"

"I'm sorry?" I snapped out of it quickly.

"I'm sayin'--be careful who you talk to. Watch what people do. Something looks funny--don't get caught up in it. Get it?"

"Of course I get it," I said, making sure I looked stern.

"I hope so," he said, leaning back in the chair. "I really hope ya do…"

"I'm a grown woman, Uncle Steve," I told him confidently. "I know how to take care of myself."

"You better." He winked again as he rose up from his seat. "Well--I'mma head on home and pack my things--you can drop by tomorrow at the earliest, but I should be gone by then. Horses won't really need tending to til the day after, so--"

"Yeah, okay," I said, also getting up. "I'll see you when you get back, then?"

"O' course," he said, pecking the top of my head. "Take care, honey bunny!"

I shook my head at his overuse of my childhood nickname and watched him take his leave, considering all that he'd said.

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He told me not to come looking for him. Ever. Whether or not he knew I wouldn't listen, I don't know. But Jonathan was a smart man--probably smart enough to know that most women won't change their minds, and that I had my mind made up even before he told me not to go after him, so I did. It's not like I promised I wouldn't, anyway.

A very distinct, gut feeling pierced me after talking with my uncle, a feeling about the Joker. Wouldn't be surprised if he's got all the criminals in Gotham on his side…My uncle's words echoed in my brain the entire ride back home. It made sense, perfect sense…The Joker and Jonathan both had their ties to the mob, so didn't that make them tied to one another? They could probably even be working together--at least, they would both be aware of what the other one was doing. I was sure all of Gotham's most wanted had some ideas of what the others were up to, so that they wouldn't get in each other's ways. Yes, it had made plenty of sense…

Going to find him probably wasn't the brightest of ideas, but I was one to follow my heart, and oddly enough, my heart was leading me to the Joker.

I took my Jetta home. I parked it in the driveway and went inside only to drop off my purse and hat and to grab an umbrella. I had a feeling it was going to start raining soon. I unlocked the window to my bedroom so that I would get back inside later--I didn't want to risk taking my keys with me when meeting the clown--and climbed out of it, landing after jumping only about three feet. Thank God my room was on the ground floor. I walked across my yard, cursing myself for keeping the heels on as they trudged through the dampening grass. I opened my umbrella after hearing the thunder clap above my head. I scurried over to the gate, tossed my umbrella over, and climbed over it, stumbling as I touched ground. I walked further and reached the alley, trying to remember which way led to the abandoned toy factory.

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A/N: Fun fact: Lorraine's uncle (Hollis's father) being named Fred and being Lorraine's father's twin is totally homage to Fred and George in the Harry Potter series. Wasn't sure how obvious that was and thought I'd point it out.

"Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat" translates into "fortune favors the brave." I'm sure you'll see why that phrase would apply in time, if you haven't already. :]