A/N: Hello m'dears… I hope the week has been a good one to you!

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Down in the Batcave, Bruce was seated at the Batcomputer and relaxing (if one wanted to call it that) after an evening that had seen him called out to study a crime scene in the Diamond District that he and Gordon both knew was a message from Crane. Bruce rest his chin on his upturned fist as he considered the facts he'd gathered at the scene. He sensed more than saw the second chair being pulled closer to the computer and knew Dick was looking at the same series of facts he was and coming up with the very same answers.

"How exactly is Crane administering this new toxin of his?"

Bruce noticed how Dick asked the question calmly enough. Yet there was a bite beneath his tone that the older man recognized as the rise of a reckless and dangerous mood. He angled his head to look over at his son. Dick's face showed nothing, but Bruce knew that he was like a volcano waiting to erupt on the inside.

Things are not so easy now that she's your girlfriend, are they, chum? he asked the younger man silently. It's not easy to separate the professional from the personal, to disassociate yourself from the situation and do what had to be done. That was where he and Dick Grayson differed, though. He would sacrifice everything in order to bring Crane to justice. Dick, on the other hand, would weigh out his options and minimize the risks.

Bruce had learned a long time ago that there was good and there was evil, and that the line between them could be almost impossible to find. Does one good deed make me a hero? he found himself wondering. Or am I to blame for all this misery that has impacted so many lives?

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Raya's came back to reply how "the answers to those questions were not easy ones to give. They're supposed to be simple. But you know in our lives, that simple answers are never simple."

"Thinkin' the better question ta ask here is if Kit has anything in her case notes about how Crane is dosing his victims?" he heard Jason say in a muffled tone. He glanced over and saw he was pulling the top of his armor over his head. Raya once had pointed out to him he and Jason Todd were the same underneath it all. He hadn't believed her, naturally. Since the night where she'd managed to not so subtly manipulate a reunion between him and his recklessly impulsive son, he'd come to see just how very right his imp was.

Many of the problems which stood between them remained between them because of how similar they were personality-wise. It continued to amaze him about how well Raya was able to see beneath the masks he and Jason wore. And she has become quite adept at handling us both, he admitted with a slight smirk. He touched a few buttons on the keyboard and brought Raya's notes (which she'd not bothered to safe code) up on the screen.

"According to what Raya has written in her notes, Crane is administering his new toxin via an injection."

"An injection?" Barbara Gordon's curiosity crackled over the comm. "Well, that's not unusual."

"Nah," Jason snarked. "It's the freak's preferred method for gassing his victims."

"Nobody can say that Crane is unpredictable about how he chooses to administer his toxin," Barb said dryly. "His research methods are as engrained in him as our training is in us."

"Is the freak deliverin' his injection while his victims are awake and conscious, though?" Jason asked. "Or is he knockin' 'em out and then gassing 'em?"

"They are awake and conscious when he delivers the injection," Bruce replied.

"This toxin of his..." Dick said slowly. "It's not on the same level as the other toxins that Crane has used in the past. It's different..."

"What do you mean by different?" Barb queried. "How is this toxin different from the others?"

"Well," Dick paused; sighed. "When Crane administers a dose of toxin, it always induces an automatic fear response."

"Well, I know that, Adult Wonder," Barb teased. "I've been gassed by Crane a tie or two. What is the point that you are trying to make?"

Dick didn't smile, but Bruce noticed how his face softened at her teasing. "My point is that his new toxin doesn't produce the same automatic reactions that his old one used to produce. They aren't automatic."

"Well, what's different about this toxin that it is producing such a different response?"

Jason snorted. "How about his new toxin is delivered straight into the central nervous system through a tube inserted at the top of the victim's spinal cord?" He felt three pairs of eyes all turn upon him. "What?" he demanded. "I'm not a complete imbecile..."

"Not saying you are, Jas," Dick said with a slight smile. "Just amazed that Raya has told you so much about Crane's new toxin is all."

Jason scoffed and folded his arms across his chest before shooting his older brother a look. "Ya realize that there was a time, long before I screwed everything between us up, that Kit would ta talk ta me about things like this, right?"

"Yes, I do," Dick replied, nodding. "And since she was being so chatty way back when, did she happen to tell you about what this new toxin does? How it works?"

"'Fraid not," was Jason's response. He kicked his booted feet up onto a metal container. "Ya might wanna check with either the kid or Timbo about that. And if'n it was me," he added with a smirk, "I'd check with the kid. Anybody likely ta know about all this is him."

"Why do you think that she'd have told Damian about what Crane's new formula is capable of instead of Dick?" Barb asked curiously. "She's closer to Dick."

Jason glanced at the former Batgirl. Even over a computer screen he could read the concern and the worry in those hazel blue eyes. "'Cause Kit tends ta keep things related ta her family close ta her chest. She'd only entrust something like this to the member most likely ta burn Gotham ta the grounds if'n Crane snagged a member of the family."

Barb's lips curved. "Gee, no clue where she mighta picked that particularly bad habit up from."

Bruce ignored that pointed jab and tapped a few keys on the keyboard. "According to Raya's notes," he said, shooting a warning look at Dick when he snickered. "Crane's new toxin doesn't manifest itself in the conscious mind or cause an immediate fear response in its victims. Hrm," he murmured as his eyes scanned the screen. "It seems that this new toxin manifests itself in the unconscious mind."

"Which forces them ta relieve past traumas or deep-seeded fears." Jason drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "Victims are left cognitively susceptible ta the persuasions made on the part of the toxin's administrator. Who in this case," he needlessly pointed out, "Is Dr. Crane."

"My God," Barbara breathed out. "That would potentially leave whomever is in his control at his complete mercy."

Dick ran his hands over his face. "Crane would literally be able to plant whatever fear triggers he wanted in the mind of the toxin's recipient and be able to stand back and watch as they literally were scared to death."

"She was most concerned with Crane getting his syringe-tipped fingers into Bruce," Jason said, stifling a yawn with his hand. He felt Bruce's eyes upon him and cocked his head to the side to look at him. "What? It shocks ya that she's almost as obsessed with keeping ya safe as ya are about keepin' her safe?" He snorted. "Kit's more like the two of us than ya might think she is, Bruce."

"I know she is, Jason," Bruce said quietly. Too quietly. "I know she is."

Dick felt his blood run cold as the events of the last few months finally clicked into place. Her paranoia, her going to Arkham to see Crane, the Museum incident, the level of secrecy about Inceptive. It all made total sense finally.

"She knew what Crane would do if the formula ever fell into his hands. She knew he'd go after Batman. She knew he'd use Inceptive to bring Batman to his knees." He turned haunted eyes upon his parent and former partner (as well as mentor.). "That's why she's done her best to bury Inceptive," he said in a voice that was barely above a rasp. "It's why she's gone out of her way to keep his focus on her. It was to keep it off you."

"And ya thought Kit had lost a step?" Jason snorted a laugh. "Sounds ta me like she's been a step ahead of Crane this entire time."

"And made him desperate," Dick tossed back at him.

"Yup." Jason nodded and flashed his simmering brother a smirk. "She played his game. Only Kit was playin' for something more important than Crane was: her family."

Dick swore, long and quite impressively in Jason's opinion. "She better be thankful that Conner has her stashed some place safe right now," he growled. "I'm half tempted to wring her neck for this."

"Aw, why are ya so surprised, Dickie boy? It totally sounds like Kit being Kit ta me," Jason chortled. His amusement got him a black look from Dick, who's jaw ticked and a warning look from Bruce. He ignored both. Truth was truth in his mind. "C'mon, how often have ya seen her sacrifice everything in order ta protect the city and her family?" His eyes glowed with his amusement. "No clue where she mighta got that particularly annoying habit from, for the record."

Bruce ignored Jason and that particularly pointed comment. He knew where she'd gotten her bad habit of sacrificing herself for everybody from. He didn't need his son to point it out to him. Instead, he focused his gaze upon Dick. He knew what Dick was thinking; feeling at that moment. He was feeling it too. Most of his anger was aimed at the central cause of the conflict: Crane. But there was also a healthy dose of it for Raya, herself. His imp had been keeping things close to the vest that they needed to know so that they could bring Crane to his knees. A niggling voice in the back of his head (one that sounded suspiciously like Dick's, in fact) whispered to him about how he "couldn't scold her" for the very same things that he, himself "was guilty of."

"What I want to know," he heard Barbara say. "Is why the test subjects Crane has been using to test his toxin have all died." He glanced over at the computer monitor in time to see her face screw up with her disgust. "And what exactly they died from."

Bruce tapped a few keys. "From what I can see, Crane's toxin only barely resembles the original Agent that Dr. Berkeley synthesized. There are a number of chemical changes that Crane has made that appear to have strongly enhanced the instability of the original serum. Raya makes multiples references to a missing enzyme that stabilizes the neural compound.

There's also repeated mentions of things like plugging in incorrectly and inadequate port delivery overloading the CNS and causing a neural meltdown. Even a small dose has been shown to cause irreparable damage to the CNS." Bruce continued scrolling through the notes. But he sat forward when he realized that there was a crucial piece of the puzzle that been left out of her notes—the most important piece in fact. "Hang on," he said suddenly. "Raya's notes aren't complete. Crane's formula is detailed here but Dr. Berkeley's compound..."

"Remains a carefully guarded secret," Alfred said in a soft but firm voice. Three pairs of eyes shot towards where the butler had silently approached the cave's main grotto, a silver serving tray balanced between his hands. "And it will remain a very carefully guarded secret until Miss Raya returns and grants me her permission to hand over the books she trusted to me."

Bruce's body jerked, and then stiffened. But when he turned to look at the butler his face was calm. "She entrusted Dr. Berkeley's formula to you, Alfred?"

"She put into my care all of Dr. Berkeley's research notes," Alfred said. "Yes."

"Why, Alfred?"

"Miss Raya has always been aware of how dangerous it would be if someone like the Scarecrow got his hands upon Dr. Berkeley's formula. It was a lesson," Bruce as well as Dick and the others heard the veiled chord of disgust which flickered beneath Alfred's normally neutral tone. "That she learned the night Dr. Crane chased her into an alley and threatened to harm a little boy unless she not only agreed to go with him, but give him Inceptive as well."

Bruce, as well as Dick (and to a lesser extent Barbara and Jason) could remember that disastrous night without having to try. The night Gotham became the City of Fear. Feverish images danced across their visions in a disgusting swirl of optic overload. High pitched wails of utter terror shattering the night, the desperately uttered pleas of the damned, and the cold, cold cackle of the man who was enjoying the chaos he'd caused. It was only with a legendary strength of will that they both pushed the images and emotions aside so they could focus upon solving the problem that was in front of them.

"Raya knew her father hired Crane to deal with her. She knew Berkeley had told Crane about her having her grandfather's notes in her possession."

"Yes, sir."

"And she knew that if the Scarecrow ever got his hands upon her grandfather's formula that he would not only be able to drown Gotham in the river of fear he has always wanted to flood it in," Bruce breathed out. "But that he'd be able to neurologically control each and every man, woman and child who'd receive a dose of the agent."

"She knew Gotham would be virtual prisoners of their fears," Barbara added in a somber tone. "She knew we'd be trapped in a never ending state of flight-or-fight."

"So she entrusted the books ta the one person that Crane wouldn't think would have them." Jason shot a smile at the butler. "I keep sayin' that this world needs more Alfred's in it. Everybody should have them an Alfred."

"I think one of me is more than enough for this world, Master Jason," Alfred replied with a slight nod. But Jason could see the twinkle of pleasure and humor that shimmered in the older gentleman's eyes.

"But..." Dick began only to trail off as he attempted to gather his scattered thoughts together. "How'd she know Berkeley was working with Crane?"

"She's always known Crane was working with her father, Dick," Barb said softly. "She began suspecting it after Crane cornered her in Dr. Berkeley's lab a week before he unleashed his fear mist upon the city."

"What?" Bruce growled. His face, from what little of it Jason could see in the monitor's glossy reflection, could have been carved from volcanic rock. "Why was this never mentioned to me?"

"She asked us to say nothing to you, Bruce," Barb said apologetically. "And we didn't because of how dark and desperate the times were back then."

"If I had known..."

"And that is exactly why Miss Raya had to leave." Alfred sighed, the sound signifying that he was finally, finally letting go of a burden that had been resting heavy on his heart and soul for all these years. "She already had been witness to the brutal lengths that the Scarecrow and her father would go in order to get their hands upon her. She saw what lengths her father would go to punish her when he shot Master Richard. She knew he could kill one or the both of you. And she feared that. She feared losing you-all of you," he declared as his gaze lifted to stare at the woman who was in one corner of the flatscreen, "to either a madman's bullet, or a fatal dose of fear toxin. So she chose to leave you."

"It wasn't her call..." Bruce rasped.

"Master Bruce, you are only seeing one end to the story. You are not able to stop and consider how letting the girl go was in her best interest."

"How was this in her best interest?"

"Batman could not be around her twenty-four hours a day and she deserved more than life inside a gilded cage."

"I would have protected her." Bruce's voice snapped like a cat-o-nine tail. Yet Alfred did not so much as flinch as the crack of it laid over his head. "I would have stopped Crane and her father before they could have hurt either us, or her."

"Bruce," Barb spoke up now. "Can't you see that this was the only way she could finally start healing from all the wounds that her father, and this city inflicted upon her?"

"She was sixteen," he bit out. "She needed to be home with the family that loved her. She didn't need to be living out on the streets as a runaway."

"What if she wasn't living on the streets as a runaway?" A strange expression came over the butler's face, as if he was weighing out his words and the consequences that they carried. "What if she was living somewhere where she was safe? Where she was well cared for?"

At first Bruce didn't see any point in speculating. Raya had run away and been living on the streets until a man by the name of Sama Lao took her in. And yet there was something in what Alfred was saying that had a tingling sensation beginning at the back of his mind, whispering to him that there was more to this story than was being said. Why would Alfred be asking him if he'd feel differently if he knew that Raya had not been living among the desperate and desolate, but with people who'd cared for her? He brooded upon that for a few moments. Then realization struck home. Alfred, as well as Barbara (and Gordon he suspected now) had known where she was.

"You knew," he said softly. "You knew where she was. The whole time she was gone, you knew where she was."

"Not the whole time, no," Alfred denied with a shake of his head. "I did not learn of Miss Raya's whereabouts until a few months after she left."

"You and Gordon helped her to leave," he accused. "You encouraged her to leave, in fact."

"We did, yes," the butler said with a nod. "And I don't regret my part in it."

"Why?" he wanted to shout the word at his longtime friend and companion. "Why did you help her leave?"

How could you? he silently accused the older man. How could you be part of this?

"Bruce," Barbara spoke gently now. "We knew that Raya was going to die if she remained here in Gotham."

Bruce wasn't sure what he was feeling at that moment. Emotions pumped through him faster than any drug. He was edgy, every nerve ending scrapped absolutely raw. It felt like his entire system was simply waiting to implode. They helped her leave, he thought, his head swimming dizzily. They all helped her to leave me. Suddenly suspicious, he cast a look at Dick and saw by the guilt-driven sorrow upon his face that Raya had had four helpers (not three) aide her in her escape. He ignored two of them for the moment and focused again upon Alfred (the ones who's betrayal hurt most of all.). "Why didn't you tell me that you knew where she was? That she was safe?"

That she was okay?

"You would only have gone after her." Alfred dropped a hand down upon Bruce's shoulder, squeezed it gently. "And you would have brought her home no matter what the consequences were. For her," he said softly; firmly. "Or for you."

The hell of it was he knew that Alfred was right. He would have gone after her and he would have brought her back to Gotham. And he would not have stopped to consider the consequences. He was about to say as much when the sound of a phone vibrating snagged his attention. It managed to grab Dick's attention as well. He quickly reached into the pocket of his sweats and pulled out Raya's cellphone (which she'd left at the Manor before taking off to help Tim.). He checked the caller ID, silently praying the number would be Conner's. It wasn't.

"Who the hell would be calling Raya from a blocked number?" he asked curiously. He was about to answer, but Bruce grabbed the phone and answered it for him.

"What do you want, Joker?"

His heart stopped when he heard a voice like a little girl's stutter, "Bb-Man?"

"Quinn," he rasped.

Only it wasn't Quinn now who answered. He heard the Joker's low, throaty laugh a second before he heard, "Well, look who it is. I haven't heard from you..." he trailed off. Then there was a "Hm," followed by the Joker saying, "Well, how how long has it been since I have heard from you? Three months? Four?" He paused again, clearly relishing having Bruce at his mercy. "Let's see, there was the incident at City Hall followed by the asylum, our little pay-per-view party, oh, yes! Four months and not a word! Not even a little note of apology for leaving me there to die! I'm hurt!"

"You injected yourself with the Titan. You deserved exactly what you got."

"Did I?" He cackled. "Oh, you're right, I did! Too bad I didn't succumb to the Titan'a poison as the others did."

"What do you want, Joker?" Bruce gritted.

"Why, I want you to put that adorable little brat of yours on the phone. Got a message for the little scamp."

"No."

"No? Aw, you really should be much nicer to me, Bats," the Joker uttered in a voice that reminded Bruce of a petulant child. "Fine! If I can't give the little darling my message personally, then I'll give it to you. And I expect you to repeat what I say exactly as I say it! Got it?"

Bruce felt the last vestiges of his patience unraveling quickly. "Get on with it."

"Oh, my darling," the Joker purred. "I do suggest that you hurry up. The clock is ticking and my patience is running out." He paused. Then his voice dropped to a moist hiss. "You don't want me to go get out the crowbar, do ya?"

Bruce's control snapped as the Joker let loose a high pitched gurgle of laughter. "I'll stop you..." he snarled a second before the line went died.