I know this is short and a long time in coming, but I just finished my first year of college so will hopefully have some time to finish this story up in the next month or so. Still working out the logistics of the next section of this story, but I decided not to keep you waiting any more so here is something to hold you over. Read and review! Thanks!

Sirens were going off throughout the city, a panic falling in response to the unexpected explosion across town. They could see the faint orange glow rising up over the skyline of Gotham through the huge windows. The explosion had happened over an hour ago, but the flames had yet to be taken under control. There must have been something to fuel it, meaning it would burn carelessly, furiously, and with intense heat until the last of the fuel was spent. The heat was so intense that the firefighters could not even get close to the burning building. The damage it left in its wake would be monumental to the structure it burned. Nothing would be salvageable. But the building was old, run-down and nearing the end of its time anyway. It had been from another era of Gotham. A much safer, idealist, and dream centered Gotham; a Gotham that still believed in the good of humanity. Perhaps that's why the Joker had chosen it as the place to remove another pillar of Gotham's past; Alfred Pennyworth.

Rachel had been over all of it in her mind, over and over, since the explosion first shook their world. Bruce stood at the bedroom window, watching the glow as it reflected in his eyes. Rachel lay in bed, watching him with sad and exhausted eyes. She felt responsible, after what the Joker had told her. She was the reason that two men had died now. Bruce was next on the list, and she didn't want to fail him this time. She couldn't. The loss had already been too great.

The Joker's face flashed through her mind every time she closed her eyes, and she still heard his horrendous laugh and the horrible smacking of his lips as he talked. But the most haunting, was his breath on her neck and the way his hands had greedily held her. She knew she had taken it too far and that doing so with Bruce listening had been cruel, but she hadn't known what else to do. What else could she possibly offer the Joker in exchange for Alfred? She hadn't even considered the fact that the Joker would find the bug on her, or what she would have done if he'd actually agreed to her terms. How far would she have let it gone?

She closed her eyes, remembering being a little girl and looking up into Alfred's face as he smiled down at her and offered her some small piece of wisdom; wisdom that she still held dear in her heart. She knew that Alfred would have never wanted her to give up herself to any man, especially not to save him, and especially not to the Joker. In such a desperate attempt to save him, she had almost done something that Alfred would have never forgiven himself for. He would have felt somehow responsible for such a horrible act, and would never have accepted the fact that saving him had been her only thought. She would never have regretted it, not if it had saved him. But it hadn't. None of it mattered now. Alfred was gone. In a split second, his life had ended in a blast that lit up the entire Gotham night.

If only it had been a horrible dream. If only her mind had gone on some crazy journey to a horrific place that she could only visit in the wildest of nightmares. If only she could open her eyes and everything be just as it should be. She took a deep breath, praying the most fervent of prayers, and then opened her eyes. Her heart broke all over again as she saw Bruce's form, standing at the window, staring at the ember flames. Sweat beaded up on his shirtless back, his hands held securely behind him, his feet shoulder width apart, as if a soldier at-ease. He didn't move, expect for the clenching and unclenching of his jaw.

Her heart broke for him. He had seen his parents die right in front of him as such a young and impressionable age, and that had forever changed everything about him. So much of the person he was today and the cause he fought for could be tied back to his parents' murders. Now, still suffering from that pain all of these years later, he had been forced to watch Alfred, the man who had raised him since his parents' death, die in an explosion. In both cases, she knew that he would always feel that he should have done something. He should have been more brave and courageous and fought to save his parents from the thief. And now, he had been unable to save Alfred too. Rachel would forever be telling him that in both cases there was nothing he could have done. It had been too late. Bruce would be forever haunted by doubts and guilt. That guilt is what pushed him to his obsession with making up for it by saving Gotham and making his parents and Alfred proud. Rachel hoped that one day she would be able to convince him that he didn't have to earn their love or admiration. He'd had it all along.

Now, seeing him so visibly fighting his pain and guilt, Rachel sat up, the cotton sheets swishing against her dark purple satin nightgown. He heard her, his head turning only slightly in her direction.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" His deep voice asked.

"Shouldn't we both?"

"Bats don't sleep at night."

She ran a hand over his back, his skin flinching at the contact. "But Bruce Wayne does."

"I can't. I can't go to sleep knowing that he's still out there."

"Bruce, there is always going to be a villain out there."

"But not him…I have to end him."

"Bruce..."

"I'm not sleeping until he's dead."

"Dead?" Rachel frowned. "Bruce, that's not the kind of justice you were searching for. You're supposed to turn him over to the authorities…let them handle him."

He turned on her, his eyes dark. "He doesn't deserve justice!"

"The justice isn't for him…it's for Gotham."

"The best thing for Gotham is for him to be obliterated from the face of this earth."

She put her hands on his shoulders. "Is that the best thing for Gotham, or is that the best thing for you?"

He looked at her questioningly.

"If you think that killing him is going to give you any sense of peace or retribution, you're wrong. Alfred wouldn't want that. Alfred would want you to follow the standards for Gotham you've been attempting to put back into place."

He sighed, closing his eyes tightly. "Bruce…please don't let your anger ruin everything you've worked for. If you do that…then Alfred's years by your side and his death will have been for nothing. We have to stick to our goals and hope and dreams for Gotham more than ever before. In this moment, you need to make a choice, Bruce. Use your anger to do the right thing. Let it give you the power you need to end this battle and be everything you were before… everything and so much more."

He was quiet for a minute, breathing hard. "How do you know…how do you know that doing the right thing is worth it. How do you know that it's right, if it feels so difficult and wrong?"

She felt the tears instantly spring to her eyes as she realized the answer to his question. "Because…I stayed with Harvey because I had made a promise to stay, despite the fact that more than anything I wanted to be back in your arms again. Because I stood on a stage in front of Gotham and told this city to keep fighting for the good we believe in, despite the fact that it feels so much easier to just give in and let the corruption reign. Because it's so easy to quit trying and just let life take its course, but we get out of bed every day anyway and dream of a better tomorrow…and because two hours ago, I was offering myself to a man who I hate more than I've ever hated anyone, in order to save Alfred. We don't do the right thing because it's easy. We don't do the right thing because it feels good every time, because sometimes it really hurts. We do the right thing because we're better than the wrong thing and we see something out there in the world that's good and bright and beautiful, and we want to share that something with the world."

Bruce stared at her, shaking his head to fight back the tears. Rachel reached for his face, rubbing her thumb across his cheek bone.

"Bruce…" She whispered. "Tell me you still can see it. Tell me you can still see the light out there somewhere."

He nodded, his fingers running across her barely grown belly. "I see it."

She smiled faintly. "Then fight for it with everything within you. And someday, we'll watch this child flourish in it."

"I can't do it without you, Rachel. You are the light in my life. Without you, I can't see it."

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tightly. With his heartbeat echoing in her ear, she promised to be by his side. "You're not going to do it alone. This is my battle too."

"Rachel…I want you to know something..."

"What?" She asked.

"If I have to kill him to protect you and the baby, I will."

"I know. I will too."

"So you agree that we will do what has to be done?"

"Yes, what has to be done."

He nodded, kissing the top of her head. "Okay."