Disclaimer: See the first chapter.

Background: See the first chapter.

Summary: Is Ra's Al Ghul immortal? Are his methods supernatural? When the return of the League of Shadows in Gotham coincides with the appearance of an obscure female foe chasing both Batman and Bruce Wayne, the dark question unravels: Is Ra's truly dead…?

Villain's View of a Hero #10
FACING THE DEMONS

The smell of the dirty seawater below burned in his nose as he squad on the edge of the jetty. A flash of memory brought back the small stab of panic as the car had been pushed dangerously close to the edge months before, during the chase that had ended in its temporary demise. Like a small number of times before, Bruce had surfaced behind the mask to show an emotion; at that time, it had been fear.

He seldom thought on the possibility of his own death. He had seen people die around him, mourned the deaths of his parents and had, on rare occasions, wished for the deaths of others, of his enemies. But it was as if the image of the Batman made him feel immortal. It was as if, when he saw the surprise and fear in the enemy's eyes, he felt... powerful. And that idea shocked him to his core. The idea of feeling powerful by the fears of others... Wasn't that what his enemies did?

"Master Bruce..."

He blinked slowly, wondering if he had imagined the small sound in his ear.

"Master Bruce?"

The voice had been more insisting this time, and Batman took form again in the mask, remembering his surroundings. "What is it, Alfred...?"

"Finally. I have been trying to reach you for the past five minutes. Is everything all right, sir?"

The ice around his heart wrapped tighter and clamped down. He rose and retraced his steps along the jetty to the landing, climbing into the seat of the Batpod. "Everything's fine," he said definitively, closing the former subject firmly, locking it away in the cavern of his memories.

The wig was a passionate red – smooth and slightly curly, waving down her spine to mid-back. It was much more of an eye-catcher compared to the casually straight-haired blonde wig, which was only about shoulder length. The wigs were Gray's own idea. The different identities she took on hadn't been reported to the League, but rather – she felt – would be more effective if it all remained secret.

As she drew a soft brush through the red strands, she paused while staring at her reflection. She put the wig back in place and walked to the glass wall, looking down at the busy streets of Gotham, eyeing a certain route to navigate between the buildings. Gray had taken to wandering that very route in the early evening, before she was to meet with Gordon in the office to finish up for the day. Though the first personal greeting with the Dark Knight had gone far from according to plan, she had made up her mind to remain close to the lieutenant inside the police, in chance it might prove useful later on. But it was not enough, she knew now. Progress was made too slowly that way.

This was why her original plan with the blonde cop had taken a twist and spread to other paths. While the position in the police would act as a way to try to gain the trust of Batman, the red wig she had acquired was to be used for a more alluring type to try to attract Bruce. And while that card was waiting yet to be played, she had conjured a new idea – a new character... namely herself.

Her eyes wandered around the parts of the street that were reflected in the empty shop windows, and a small sigh left her parted lips. Just beyond came the deafening noise of one of the larger shopping streets of Gotham City that had yet to fall apart. Why had this evening's stroll taken her here? It didn't matter, seeing as the growing hunger in her stomach called for a club sandwich.

The hot day had turned to a cool evening, and she pulled her coat a bit closer around her neck. She noticed the rain of the previous night had stained the streets with puddles, which had not quite dried in the sun, and stepped cautiously into the curb repeatedly to avoid wet toes. And apart from puddles, she had to sidestep couples passing her on the sidewalk.

Soon enough she stood on the corner of the main street where late night shops were still open and beckoned with their cozy gleam. Gray moved steadily in the direction of a snack bar where she was sure to find something to satiate her hunger.

Her eyes were aimed only on her destination, so as she did not notice the man coming very narrowly close in her direction, he bumped into her as he passed, and something small and round was pressed into her right hand. He was gone quickly, and Gray was too slow to turn around to see him. She loosened her fingers, which had closed around the object in reflex, and in the palm of her hand lay but a small blue flower with a piece of paper wrapped around the stem. Taking a quick glance around her, she slipped the flower into her pocket and continued toward the bar.

Once taking a seat, she sat still as the waiter walked to the kitchen with her order. Checking that no one was looking, she reached for the flower again and pulled it out of her pocket, holding it out of sight while untangling the small note. Her stomach clenched in shock at the words scribbled down delicately:

He wants to see you.

Gray glanced up with a small jolt of her heart when the doorbell chimed. A man entered. He gave the cafe a sweeping look, taking all things in notice. She couldn't help but feeling like he studied her in the brief second his eyes captured her table. But he paid her no further attention as he moved to the far end of the bar. Curiously, Gray looked to a man sitting on a barstool closer to her. Had he just looked at her as well?

It's just paranoia, she told herself. She'd been spending too much time with suspicious kinds of people; been on edge for too long.

But staying on the paranoid side, she scanned the cafe. There were a couple of men scattered over the place. When she turned her head toward another, she felt like the previous was looking at her, and vice versa. It wasn't until she turned around 180 that she caught two men playing cards staring at her, as they averted their eyes too late.

"Overwhelming, isn't it?"

Gray jumped and turned in her seat, suddenly facing the one person she would never have expected to see. Not now. But there he was.

"...That haunting feeling of watchful eyes?" he continued.

"Al Ghul—"

"You may call me Ra's," he said in a low voice, undetectable outside the conversation between the two, "but not here. You must refer to me only as Ducard."

Gray gulped and inspected her hands, thinking of what to say. "What are you doing here?" she said slowly, breaking the words into pieces.

He gave her a brief smile. "You know I have retired... I just thought I would stop by and see how my favorite student is getting along."

She frowned at the cryptic words; soon she understood that he would not speak openly in public. She was no actress, but she knew what he hinted at and played along. "Let's have some tea at my place."

"...And as of before this morning there had been no warning of the Chairman's leave from—" With a discordant sound Gray turned off the TV when she moved past it on her way to the kitchen, having forgotten to do so when she left. She removed the water kettle from the electric pad and stood on her toes to snatch two teacups from the glass cabinet above. Pouring the hot water, she simultaneously fished tea bags from the top drawer and dropped them into the cups.

Gray felt unaccustomedly unnerved by her master's presence, as he seemed to hover around, lingering at certain places to investigate her personal touches to the apartment. Meanwhile, as the tea bags were soaking, she closed the blind of the kitchen window and nearly ran to pull the large, heavy drapes over the glass wall in the living room.

"Interesting idea..."

Gray caught herself in a startled step before she could drop the fine china she had just brought out from the kitchen. Glancing down at the couple of drops that spilled from the tea, she looked up again and froze at the sight.

"I haven't been informed about this," said Ra's Al Ghul upon lifting one of the wigs off its stand. He put it back down with a trace of humor in his eyes, and lifted an eyebrow in her direction. "Perhaps, now that I have come so far this way, you may at least serve to indulge me in your plan?"

Gray gulped again and shook herself mentally, striding steadily toward the coffee table in the sitting area where she put down the two cups before she would spill the rest of the tea. She glanced at him over her shoulder, and then took a seat as he indicated for her to do. As calmly as she could, she began to tell him about the personas she had been using – and would be using – against Wayne, explaining carefully what she intended, revealing only so much as she dared.

All the while she failed to notice that Ra's had remained standing, watching her intensely as she spoke. "Your plan is a scheme that may span over months at a time," he said when she finished. "Time we don't have. But, I will grant you the one chance. If you believe you can succeed the act of these theatrical events within a year's course, then I encourage haste in your actions. I am a patient man, Vanessa, but my patience is wearing thin. I have waited a long time for justice to be done... don't force me to wait much longer."

Gray didn't even correct his use of her first name – the name she loathed so much. She was so surprised and relieved he had accepted her terms that she sat motionlessly on the spot, with her teacup in hand, openly staring at him. "That's it? You're not angry that I have kept my plans from you?" Her father would have been.

Ra's looked at her strangely with an off-center smile. His eyebrows climbed a notch in a questioning expression, and he sighed as he finally sat down in a leather armchair to the left of the couch upon which Gray was seated. "Is it... punishment you seek?" he asked slowly. "A berating of actions, teaching you to never run astray from my commands? I am not a cruel man, Vanessa. However, I am not imperturbable either. I expect only of you to do as directed from now on... And it would be wise for you not to think that I would be as understanding in any other case."

Gray watched attentively as Ra's sipped at his tea, holding the round cup steadily in the palm of one hand as his eyes closed in a state of calm. "So... what are you really doing here?" she dared ask after many long moments of silence. "I know you didn't travel this far just to check up on me."

It took another moment before he opened his eyes. His pupils were dilated in the gloom of the closed drapes, making his intense blue eyes stand out, dark and radiant. The same ever-spying eyes were now set in an emotionless face, and the weather-tanned, careworn folds and wrinkles in his skin did not appear quite as harsh. He looked harmless in the relaxed position, seated in casual surroundings, dressed in a more everyday kind of sandy-colored suit. But she knew he wasn't.

She was startled out of her trance when he suddenly moved around, the new leather of the chair squeaking with the movement. He bent forward and placed the teacup on the saucer, glancing up at her as he did. Finally, he spoke. "I have dealings in London later this week."

"London," Gray mused, taken aback. "The US is quite a detour, then."

"I said 'later this week'," Ra's restated, "I have business in the States as well." But he wouldn't tell her. That much was clear. She didn't take offence, but knew it was a necessary feat. No one was to be trusted with too much.

When Ra's rose once finished with his tea, Gray followed him to the door. She noticed he leaned a little too heavily on his cane. Was it just an act, or was he really hurting? She couldn't be sure. There was no knowing for certain with this man. She knew he had taken certain lasting injuries after the last strike on Gotham, though she didn't know the facts.

Gray stopped short behind him when he paused in reaching for the doorknob. He turned toward her and paused again, looking into her eyes. With an unexpected movement, he slowly stepped closer toward her and brushed the back of his hand along her jaw line, just barely touching her skin. "I have faith in you," he said, smiling gently with hidden encouragement. "Don't disappoint me."

Had his whiskers always looked so soft? They portrayed coarseness – perhaps it was the gray coloring – but in the gentle light of the small hallway of the apartment, they looked silky to the touch. Gray wondered if she could... And no sooner than considering the idea was she startled by the alarming thought. The heat must really be getting to me, she concurred with herself embarrassedly, blaming the elements. Surely there was no other explanation.

But the birth of butterflies in the pit of her stomach tried to form a disagreement. It was from their midst she tore her answer: "I won't." But, when he smiled and left, the butterflies burst colorful wings and took flight. Was she betraying herself already?

Author's note: Hey guys, I'm sorry for the everlasting delay. Wow. The reasons are listed in a news post on my profile, so I won't delve into that. I hope this chapter made up for it, and chapter 11 is coming along in the writing process as well. My muse is back, for the moment. Judging by the approaching sequel of the movie, it will be getting worse – in a good way, heheh. I missed posting. It's been so heavy on my conscience, you have no idea. I love hearing from all of you!

Especially thanks:

Mimi: Grammatical mistakes? Do elaborate, I'm trying to do better, no matter how small they are! Hahah, so anyway, yeah... I know chapter 9 was very short cut, all-in-all. Not much to do about it now, though, that's just how it turned out. I hope this chapter made up on that, despite being half a year late, eheheheheh... Don't kill me?

SupportSeverusSnape: Thanks for all your reviews! I hope your friends might like it, too. And that you liked this chapter, perhaps? And, hopefully, you want to be loyal despite the past half year wait? I'll try to be more loyal by posting more, now that I can... And yes, I will support Severus!

wickafae: Well, here's your Dark Knight filler! Bet you didn't count on it coming out the day after you reviewed, did you? And I can honestly say I'm very flattered by your review, and very happy to be able to provide a new chapter so quickly... or, quickly in a sense, anyway... Speaking of The Dark Knight, you might be interested in the One-Shot Joker fic I wrote. If the movie turns on my Batsignal, I might even write a whole Joker series. Just remember... Go to the cinema like I will: With no expectations. If you have expectations, you mostly end up disappointed. But then, it's hard not to have expectations for the Joker... But, and this is coming from a longtime fan... Heath doesn't look to leave much for wanted! R.I.P.