AN: I tried to get rid of her before, but Batman had to be a busybody. No matter. She's dead now. It's only fair, really-she left me for dead, after all. Call it an eye for an eye.

Jasmine Scarthing-Let's make this educational, shall we? Have safe sex, or you could end up with a psychotic child that comes to kill you!

Estelle Lumene-Have a few other murders behind you first...oh. You're not killing them, are you. I have no idea. Perhaps some anxiety medication? I can prescribe that.

Just-Me-and-My-Brain-I've altered things a bit for Nolan's version. It amazes me. First I was a ginger, then I looked like...um... David Tennant. Mm. Yes. Him. And now I have a shrieking fanbase.

The men grab her off the street one evening-her last night in Gotham.

She's shoved into a small room. It's poorly lit, but she can see that she's not alone. A man in a scarecrow mask is standing in front of her, looking at a picture on the wall behind her.

"Hi."

"Jonathan…"

"No. Scarecrow."

Scarecrow? Is there a difference between the two?

She says nothing and the masked man closes the distance between them, keeping just out of her reach.

"Jonny-boy isn't here right now. You get me instead."

"I…"

"I should just break your neck." he says easily. "But that's too quick for my liking. Besides, I'm just here to chat. Jon would be so upset if I robbed him of his revenge."

"Revenge?" She steps back. He steps forward and soon enough, her back is against the doorknob. "Who are…"

He cocks his head.

"How are you related, I wonder?" He chuckles. "Never mind. I'll put him on now. Play nicely. Or I'll come back." He brushes his hand across her throat and she shudders.

The man steps back and pulls the mask off.

"Hello, Mother."

"Jonathan."

"I see you met Scarecrow."

"I…"

"You had some questions the last time we met." He doesn't sound particularly interested. "Can you remember them, or is that too much mental effort?"

"Why?" She swallows. "Why did you come after me?"

He shrugs and turns away from her, tossing the mask onto the desk against the far wall.

"You left me with her. You should know. Next."

All the questions she wanted to ask him-why did he do things like this? what did she do to him?-leave and she closes her eyes, trying not to cry.

"He said next." a voice growls. A hand grabs her throat and squeezes hard enough to make her cough. Then she's free, wheezing and feeling bruises forming. "Sorry about him. He's a little…overprotective."

"I don't know." she whimpers. "I'm sorry, Jonathan, I just…"

She tries to hug him, hoping that will get through to him that she's sorry, and he pushes her off. She falls back, the doorknob jamming against her spine.

"If that's all you wanted, I have a question of my own." She looks up at him. He looks exhausted now, but his eyes are cold. She can't see the boy from the photograph anymore.

He kneels beside her and for a moment she thinks he'll help her up. But no, he only forces her head back and inserts a needle into her neck.

"What do you fear, Mother? What boogey man hides under your bed?"

"Oh, god…"

"Go ahead. Ask God to help you." A cruel smirk flickers across his face. "He never helped me." He pats her cheek and stands up as the room begins to twist around him. "Happy Mother's Day."

A snake slithers out of the wall and curls around her forearm. Then she begins to scream.

THE END