Bruce drove the tank into the parking garage of the Gotham News building. He contemplated plowing the tank right through the wall and into Dent. That would end the situation quickly. He glanced at the small television on his console. Dent had Gordon right next to him. He scratched that plan. Instead he pulled it as close to the door as he could. He turned and looked at Tanya. The woman had been eerily silent the whole ride. He imagined that this all was a lot to process for her. She had just been kidnapped, escaped, watched the man she loved get captured, fought off Quinzel and now this. Not to mention she was pregnant, hormonal, and probably unsure of whether her fight had harmed the baby. And even if they did make it out of this, she would be raising a child with no hope of its father being around. He felt for her; he really did. But now was not the time to dwell on the future. If they didn't act now, there would be no future for them.

"Tanya," he addressed her, but dropped the "Batman growl" he so often used in costume. She looked up at him, obviously startled out of some private musing.

"Yes?" to her credit, her voice didn't waver or crack. She was a tough woman.

"I'm going to get out here. I need you to get to the cameras and turn them off while I distract Dent. Can you do that?" He knew that in her condition, this was asking a lot. But whatever went down in there, the citizens certainly didn't need to see it. Tanya understood this. She nodded.

"Yeah. Should be easy enough. I need to get to the control room though, so I can shut it all down."

"Alright." Bruce leaned down and began fiddling with some controls. "When I get out, the tank will take you there. Get out and turn it off. Then come right back here. No pit stops. Wait for me inside of the tank." he instructed. Tanya again nodded.

"Good luck," she offered. It seemed an odd thing to say. They were all going need more than luck; they were going to need a miracle. But Bruce swallowed and nodded.

"You too," a lot went unsaid, but somehow the pair knew that the other was thanking them for being there the past few months. Bruce gave her one last look and she graced him with a small, albeit weak, smile. He flipped the hatch open and in seconds he was out and Tanya was alone. Almost immediately after Batman vacated the premise, the tank launched into action. It rolled forward without Tanya touching anything, heading for the back of the studio. Within a few seconds it was there and the hatch slid open. Tanya hopped out and quickly made her way toward her destination. The control room overlooked the newsroom studio. It sat up near the ceiling, accessible only by one elevator. Tanya hurried toward it, praying no one would hear the elevator as it made its accent to the second floor. She snuck down the hall and to the door.

Thankfully the control room was devoid of anyone's presence. Tanya opened the heavy soundproof doors and crept in. She heard the door hiss and click behind her. She turned and threw the lock. The computers and monitors blinked with a cheerful familiarity. It had been a long time since she had last been here. It was surreal, how a year ago her biggest worry had been editing a news package on time to be live at five. Now she was in a world of worry. She quelled these thoughts and rushed forward, her fingers flickering over the buttons easily. In a minute she had cut off the broadcasting signal. She left the camera's running though. The lights would all still be on as though Dent was broadcasting, thereby not arousing his suspicions. She watched the monitors, seeing Bruce sprint into the room. She knew that she needed to get back to the tank, but she hesitated. In the tank she would be blind, having no idea what was going on. But here, she could watch. The door was locked, the glass was thick enough and tinted so it would shield her. And she could listen and watch what was going on.

She sat down. Her mind was made up. She reached under the desk, pulled out thick headphones and slammed them over her ears. Instantly, the sounds of the main news room filled her ears. Bruce was talking.

"Let him go Dent. We've already been through this."

"Yes but you cheated. The coin was tails. But you cheated!" Dent sounded hysterical. Gordon spoke up next.

"Dent, you're not this kind of man. Let it go. It was no one's fault."

"You're wrong! It's always someone's fault. It was this whole damn city! But you thwarted that plan too. And now someone has to pay!"

"What about all the people you killed?" Bruce roared. "They were innocent!"

"No one is innocent!" Dent yelled back. "And I will pay for my sins. We all will. But not yet. Not until--"

"Not until I get here?" Jack's voice announced his presence before he stepped in front of the camera. Tanya's heart skipped a beat. He had clearly escaped police custody. It didn't surprise her; he was an expert at it after all. She was just happy to see him alive and mostly well. His face was bruised, his clothing torn, but he was standing erect and proud, looking at Dent with a disdain that was unmatched.

"You showed up," Dent smirked, "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Let the commissioner go. This is between you and me." Jack took a few more calculated steps toward Dent.

"It's between all of us." Dent argued.

"No," Jack had his persuasive voice going full force. It was the same voice he used when he had first approached Dent in the hospital. "It's between the two of us. I tried to kill you; I set up the plan of action that killed Rachel," Dent and Bruce both visibly tensed at this, "I tore this city apart; I pushed you into insanity; I created this, all of it. It's between you and me." Gordon looked floored at Jack's words. They were spoken with a regretful sincerity that couldn't be denied. Tanya leaned closer to the monitor to watch.

"So you admit it's all your fault?" Dent questioned triumphantly.

"Oh, it's your fault too Dent," Jack advanced again. "You're the one holding the gun."

"You made me this way!" Dent shouted in an accusatory tone.

Jack laughed, a bitter, throaty sound. "Didn't have to try to hard did I? I did more to him," he jerked his head in Batman's direction. "Then I ever did to you. Sure, I killed your girl. But you broke. You could have just killed me in that hospital and have been done with it. You chose to be like this. I didn't force you. You made a choice."

"We all did." Batman's gravely tone interrupted. "We all did what we thought was right. You, me, Gordon."

"But this," Jack butted in, "is not right. And you know it."

"What would you know about right?" Dent snarled at Jack.

"I know I've done a lot more wrong than right. But at least I can own up to it."

"You took everything from me!" Dent yelled, spittle flying from his mouth. Gordon, still trapped with a gun to his head, winced.

"I did." Jack agreed easily. "This is between you and me. Let Gordon go." Jack's voice was forceful but imploring. Dent looked conflicted.

"Let him go," Batman spoke up. "You're not this Dent. You're not a murderer. You've done enough. We've all done enough. It's time to end this." Dent was sweating, his eyes flitting quickly from face to face. It was like the world stood deadly still. The quiet was almost suffocating.

"Alright," Dent consented minutes later. "But what's fair is fair." he reached into his pocket and pulled out his coin. Bruce felt like his world was experiencing some sick déjà vu. He watched Dent flip the coin, his other arm tight on Gordon. He looked at the result, but kept it to himself. Without warning Dent fired the gun straight up at the control room. Tanya saw him raise is gun just in time to throw herself flat at the ground, yanking the headphones with her. She hit the ground hard, the thick glass shattering after one, two, three bullets ricocheted into it, knocking the sharp pieces across the technology. Sparks and smoke sprayed up.

"Tanya Heathrow!" Dent's voice rang out loud and clear. He was calling her out. Somehow he knew she had been up there. She heard a scuffle over the din around her, then Gordon's grunt of pain. "Tanya!" Dent cried her name out again. "Get down here or I'll kill them all!" Jack was swearing and yelling, trying to get at the man with the gun. Bruce grabbed him, holding him back. Bruce had no doubt that Dent would indeed kill them all, leaving no one between him and Tanya.

"Wait," he growled at Jack. "Just wait for the right moment." Jack stopped struggling quiet so hard, but Bruce didn't relinquish his hold on him. Jack's eyes were trained at the control room. He could see smoke billowing out of it. A million fears raced through his mind. What if Tanya was hurt? He struggled again, but this time in the opposite direction. Bruce's grip tightened again. "Look," he instructed.

Jack did as he was told. He glanced in the direction of the elevator. All four men's eyes trained on the numbered display above the elevator doors. The number two was no longer illuminated. In seconds, floor one lit up and a bell rang. Even under the din of the control room, even through the heavy, panting breaths of all present, Jack heard that bell ring as loudly as ever. To him it sounded like a warning bell. His heart dropped. The doors slid open and revealed Tanya. She was standing up tall and straight, but her eyes held an intense fear. She glanced at him for a moment, her look saying a thousand words at once. Jack reached out for her but she stood just out of arm's length.

"I'm here. Now let Gordon go." She kept her voice steady. Dent smiled.

"Tanya, no--" Gordon tried to protest but Dent shoved him forward and hit him in the head with the but of the gun. Gordon slumped unceremoniously to the ground, unconscious. The commissioner was down for the count.

"You took everything from me." Dent was talking directly to Jack. "Everything I loved. I'm returning the favor." It all happened in a moment. Dent raised the gun, this time at Tanya. Jack was running straight for her. Bruce had let him go and was lunging at Dent. The gun went off before Tanya could even react.

Tanya screamed; Dent disappeared behind Jack, then Bruce. She hit the ground, Jack on top of her. Blood drenched her shirt and splashed up into her face and hair. The gun went off a second time. Tanya couldn't see. It was all red, all pain, all screams of horror and sounds of anguish. Jack's weight was crushing her, suffocating her. She flipped them over. Jack's head hit the ground, his mouth was open, taking labored shallow breaths. Tanya looked down, horrified to see a hole in his chest just below the heart. The bullet had ripped through his back and into him. The bullet that was meant for her. He had taken it.

Oh God. She looked over her shoulder in panic, desperately searching for Bruce. He was bent over someone else. Dent was down too. She turned back to Jack. Blood pooled around him, growing steadily. She was kneeling in it, it was on her clothes, her hands, everywhere. Jack's blood. It was warm. She grabbed his hand, tears distorting the pained image of his face.

"Jack," her voice was raw. The tears bubbled over and spilled freely down her face, dripping onto the prone form of her lover. Jack's eyes found hers. Despite the severity of his situation, they were still filled with that warm light that shone only for her.

"Hey Tanya. You ok?" he wheezed out. Tanya cried harder.

"Jack…" Tanya desperately searched for something to say. "You shouldn't have--"

Jack laughed. It was quiet. A small smile graced his lips. "Yeah I should have. I wasn't going to let you take that bullet."

"I have the vest on. I could have-"

"Tanya," Jack cut her off with surprising force. "He was aiming for your head." Tanya just nodded, the tears spilling faster now. She caressed his face gently, with loving care.

"Thank you." she leaned down and whispered. She squeezed his hand tighter and twisted her free hand in his hair, running her fingers through it the way she had every night they had spent together.

"Of course," Jack's voice was fading and his breathing was even more labored. Tanya could feel Bruce moving behind her, but she kept her eyes on Jack.

"You saved us. The baby and I." Jack smiled at the mention of the baby.

"Name it after me," Jack continued. "Even if it's a girl okay? Name her Jackie.." he was cut off by a series of powerful coughs. With each exhale, blood forth more forcefully. Tanya brought her hand up quickly to cover the hole.

"Okay Jack. Okay. Just hang in there. Try not to talk. We'll get you some help." she looked back quickly. "Bruce?" but Bruce was already there, kneeling next to her.

"Tanya. It's not going to help. He's bled too much."

"No." she protested in a calm voice. "No, we can save him." Bruce looked sadly at her.

"Tanya," Jack grabbed her hand again. "He's right. I'm dying baby."

"Jack no…" tears garbled her words.

"Hey," Jack brushed her hair back. "We all have to die at some point. I got to redeem myself this way." Tanya moved, straddling him and pressed her face to his.

"Jack, I'm so sorry." she cried in his ear.

"Don't be. You saved me. Now I get to save you," His voice was fading fast, but he clung to her hand like it was his lifeline.

"I told you; you already saved me." She kissed him, willing him to understand this final thing.

"I meant to ask--" he launched into another coughing fit, the force rocking his entire body brutally. "What did I save you from?" he whispered for her ears alone.

"From a life without love," she responded easily and kissed him, pouring everything she felt for him into it. When she pulled back, Jack was staring at her with a strange intensity. He smiled one last, genuine smile.

"You're going to be a great mom," he whispered into her hair. "I love you."

"I love you too, Jack. I love you so much. I always will." his body shuddered again. Tanya held him, silent tears coursing down her face. He held her back, his grip gradually weakening until his arms fell limply from her. Tanya let out a primal sound from deep inside. She clutched his body, but it was no use. It was cold, all his life ebbed out.

Jack was gone.

Tanya sobbed, running the tips of her fingers over his scars. Damn those scars. She kissed them, then his lips. For the first time, Jack didn't respond. Bruce was pulling her up now, away from the lifeless form.

"Tanya…" he muttered. But she just kept crying. She was shaking, her whole body heaving with the loss. "You have to calm down. For the baby…" Bruce rubbed her back. She knew he was right. With great difficulty, she calmed her breathing, but continued to cry.

"I'm sorry." a voice wheezed behind her. She spun quickly to see Dent. He was laying on the ground too, bleeding as freely as Jack had. He had shot himself in his attempts to shot Tanya. Ironically, the bullet had struck the side of his face that was scarred. He was laying on it, only his uninjured side exposed. His eyes were full of remorse. Tanya could hear sirens faintly in the background. "I didn't know you were pregnant. I'm sorry for everything." Dent's body shook. Tanya looked down at the monster that the Joker had created. He looked more man now then ever. Even more so than when he was the city's white knight. He was a man, collapsed and defeated under a pressure he could never handle. Tanya looked him straight in the eyes.

"I forgive you." she said evenly and sincerely. Dent seemed to smile for a second and then he too, was gone. Tanya looked at the two bodies, their blood mingled together. She prayed that Dent was sincere in his apology. Both men, ultimately, had been saved. She had won the game.

But Jack was gone. The battle was won, the war lost. She sobbed again, distraught, when something tickled her. She knew somehow, that it was the baby. It was just a flutter of motion, so delicate she might not have noticed. But it was there. Jack was there, inside of her.

"Tanya." Bruce grabbed her. He had Gordon over one shoulder and a tape in the other hand. Tanya knew it was from the camera. "We have to go."

Tears still flowing, Tanya nodded and took one last look at the prone form of the father of her unborn child.

And then the three of them were gone, leaving in their wake the shells of Jack, formerly the Joker and Harvey Dent, formerly Two-Face.

The game was over.

A/N: And that, my friends is the angst-ridden end. An epilogue is on it's way. I know that the ending was sad, and possibly unexpected, but I had planned it that way for a long time. It didn't seem right to take the character any further. Please, please, please drop a review and let me know what you thought of it, even if you are pissed. And thank you all for your continued support. The epilogue is on its way.