Epilogue Four

Three years later

The young teen lay sprawled out on the warehouse floor, blood pouring freely from his battered and broken body. At least three ribs had been fractured; one piercing his right lung, the other quickly filling with blood. His mask had been torn from his face, one eye swollen shut, but the need for secrecy had passed, his identity discovered long ago.

His assailant stood across the room, carefully taping packages of C4 across pillars, walls, and gas lines that ran throughout the complex; all the while a terrifying smile stretched across his lips. He'd waited years for this moment, and even if it wasn't the protégé he'd hoped for, the message would remain the same.

The Clown Prince carefully placed the detonator flat on the rickety wooden floor, leaving plenty of space between the plunger and his attaché case of horror, before walking back to his battered victim in a pouty huff. Honestly he was a bit vexed the youth hadn't begged for his life by now, but despite having tracked the teen for weeks, he obviously didn't know Jason Todd very well.

The Joker's heart filled with uncontrollable elation at the thought of the pain and anguish he was about to bestow, not to the young Robin, but to his master.

"This is going to hurt you a lot more than it's going to hurt me," the Joker howled, his thin ruby lips becoming a hideous smile.

Dramatically, the clown bent and stretched, knuckles and spine cracking, straightening his coat and tie before beginning his coup de grâce to the Dark Knight. He knew he needed to be careful; there had to be enough of the teen left to identity when his body was drug from the rubble; otherwise it was just another pointless death in a city famous for them. Where was the fun in that?

"Fuck you," Todd hissed in his delirium, gobs of congealed blood escaping with every struggling syllable. Even moments away from death, the teen would never give the clown the satisfaction of begging.

An inhuman cackle began to bubble up from deep within, a grotesque smile stretching across his face as he swung the crowbar back, preparing to beat the last breath from the Boy Wonder, when suddenly the iron implement slipped from his grip.

"Your lucky day kid," the Joker laughed manically, turning to look for the makeshift weapon that had slipped from his fingers. Searching around the room, it suddenly struck him he'd not heard it land.

The last thing the clown prince of crime saw before the iron bar smashed into his face was spiky red hair and a brilliant flash of lightning.

Wally West stood over the fallen villain, gently swinging the iron shaft into his hand. He knelt down next to the clown writhing on the floor, leaning over him as the Joker chuckled.

"You were right about one thing," the speedster whispered into his pale colored ear. "This is going to hurt."

xxx

"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne!"

The sea of paparazzi rushed the billionaire as he hurriedly entered Gotham Memorial, his security team quickly catching up and holding the swarm of reporters at bay.

"Is it true your son has been missing for over a week?"

"Mr. Wayne! Was there any kind of ransom note?"

"Sir, were the police involved with his rescue?"

"Mr. Wayne, is there any truth that the Joker was responsible for his abduction?"

Wayne ignored all inquiries, rushing to the front desk when suddenly Dr. Leslie Thompkins emerged from the examination room, meeting the billionaire halfway and swiftly escorting him away from the intrusive reporters.

"Leslie…"

"He was conscious when he arrived, but not very lucid. He has a grade three concussion, a fractured knee and tibia, several broken ribs, a collapsed lung, and number of deep lacerations."

"My God," Wayne replied with a cautious sigh. "Can I…see him?"

Thompkins nodded no. "He's still in surgery. They have him on a ventilator while the doctors' work on his lungs. The orthopedist will come in next and set the knee. It will be a few more hours before he's out, and I want to be clear; he's not out of the woods yet, but the MRI shows no major brain or nerve damage. The fact he was awake when he arrived is a good sign. It's still early, but the doctors believe his prognosis is good. It's just going to take time."

Bruce nodded, swallowing hard through the lump in his throat. A moment like this had always been his greatest fear. All things considered Dick and Barbara had been very lucky; too lucky. Perhaps it was finally time for the Batman to consider working alone again. It was one thing to put his own life at risk; something completely different when it involved someone else's; someone he cared about.

Wayne wrapped his arms around his old friend and squeezed tight. "Thank you Leslie."

"You can thank the ER staff, I'm just here as a concerned observer. Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you. I'm going to go back out to the waiting room. I shouldn't be given privileges other patients or their families don't receive. Just please let me know when I can go back."

"Bruce don't you worry, I'll bring you back here as soon as I can, even if I have dress you in scrubs and sneak you in myself. God knows it's not the first costume you've ever worn," she said with a wry smile.

Wayne nodded, turning back towards the waiting room before stopping and calling back to his longtime friend.

"Leslie, how did he get here?"

"Just some good samaritan off the street," she shrugged. "Said he found him near the warehouse district, and didn't think he should wait for an ambulance. He brought him in himself, probably saved his life."

"Is he still here?"

"No. The nurse up at registration said he waited around long enough for the doctors to wheel Jason back, and took off right after."

Wayne's brow furrowed. "Did they get name?"

Leslie pulled out Jason's chart, scanning through the admission notes from the nurse on call. "It doesn't appear so. It was pretty hectic around here this afternoon."

"Did they at least get a description?"

Thompkins flipped back to the first page of intake notes. "It says here – white male, early twenties, around six feet tall, red hair..." she smirked at the nurse's next note, "lots of freckles. That's kind of an odd thing to put in there," the doctor chuckled. "Whoever he was, he's a real guardian angel."

Wayne sighed, nodding with a knowing smile. "He certainly is."

"I need to get back. I'll let you know something as soon as I can."

Moments later Dick Grayson burst through the door, a similar intrusive line of questions chasing behind him from the frenzied paparazzi.

"Fucking animals," Dick cursed, rushing to Bruce's side. "How is he?"

Wayne put a firm supportive hand on his partner's shoulder. "They think he's going to be fine."

"It was the Joker, wasn't it?" Dick growled.

Wayne nodded grimly.

"That son of bitch!" Dick cursed, lowering his voice as the staff around him looked up. "I'm going out there. He's mine Bruce, I swear to God…"

"Dick, calm down…."

Seeing the young detective's arrival through the glass, Dr. Thompkins walked back out to the duo, giving Grayson a much needed hug, as well as sharing an odd bit of news.

"I just want to let you two know things are about to get a little…busy. I just got word we're about to receive a flood of patients from Gotham General, Evidently the GCPD has put the entire hospital on lockdown. They're shipping everyone out to St Thomas, Mt. Sinai, and us except the most critical cases."

"What's happened? A bomb threat?"

"Not exactly, she replied curiously, "but a colleague of mine is saying someone brought the Joker in about an hour ago. From what she overheard, he's in critical but stable condition. Supposedly someone beat the holy hell out of him? I assume it wasn't one of you two huh?"

A smirk formed on Wayne's face, looking over at his curious partner.

"No, but I have a pretty good idea who."

xxx

"Recognize Kid Flash B-03"

Wally West stepped out of the faux phone booth, waiting as the blinding glow of the Zeta Tube faded behind him. It had been quite a day.

In the distance he heard the low deep foghorn of a barge making its way down the swath of the Mississippi River that split the sister cities.

Peering down the docks to make sure he was alone, he turned back to the broken down booth, forcing its door closed the best he could, grateful that even after all these years Barry Allen had somehow managed to keep his transport privileges active. He'd done enough long distance running to last a lifetime.

Wally's head ached, his jaw throbbed. He should have known the Joker wouldn't go down without a fight, and the element of surprise could only last so long.

Hell of a way to start his twentieth birthday.

Looking down at his watch, it was shortly after midnight. He had a chemical engineering paper due by 9:00 a.m. and of course he'd barely started it. It was going to be another one of those nights, but he'd suffered worse.

Both Dick and Bruce would no doubt have their suspicions about Jason's daring rescue, but by now they knew better than to ask. Some things were better left unsaid

As he made his way towards the riverfront, a chill ran down his spine; not from the frigid breeze blowing off the water, but the memory of every solid blow he'd landed being met with a blood spewing chuckle or cackle. It hadn't been easy; he'd caught a crowbar or two across the chin himself, and of course that fucking joy buzzer.

But in the end, the Joker just wasn't prepared to fight someone with speed, and even when the clown was clearly down, the speedster didn't let up until he was sure. Wally clearly remembered reading over the autopsy report all those years ago. He knew exactly what the clown had put Todd through, and there was no way he was giving the Joker a second chance, not with Jason, not with anybody.

He was about two miles from his shitty one room apartment off campus; a five second jaunt at best, but despite the pressing need to start his paper, the walk would do him some good, giving him time to come down from the rush and clear his head.

Twenty

His life was so much different from the last time he'd reached this milestone. Artemis had surprised him with (what else?) a surprise party at that steak place in Sausalito. His parents, the Allen's and Garrick's had all made the journey as families always do, and Wally still laughed at what his mother's reaction must have been when Barry coaxed her into the Zeta Tube.

Dick and the other's showed up after dinner, and they all gathered around the bar to sing the goofy birthday song and watch the sun set behind the Golden Gate. It was one of his fondest memories, now nothing more than a dream. It never happened, it never would.

This was the third birthday without his father, and despite the years it really hadn't gotten much easier. Time heals all wounds, unless you traveled backwards in it.

As Wally turned the corner towards the main thoroughfare, he caught sight of the marquee shining brightly over the Central City Performing Arts Center.

Coming Soon - One Night Only. The world famous Zataras: visionary illusionists and spellbinders. Tickets on sale now.

The image of father and daughter on the playbill made Wally smile. The two sorcerers had walked away from the game and never looked back. Life's too short; family too precious. If it ever came down to saving the world, the speedster had no doubt they'd be one of the first to step up. But until that day (one that would hopefully never come) they deserved a normal life as much as he did; and a worldwide tour had always been pretty much the norm for their family.

Dick had kept him updated on the League's pursuit of the Light. Lex Luthor had exhausted all his appeals and was finally awaiting sentencing, and for all things…racketeering.

Wally still chuckled at the thought. A man responsible for nearly conquering the world, felled by something as simple as the RICO act; it was just beyond karmic.

Of course it was still better than what had befallen Vandal Savage. An eternity stuck inside the helmet with Nabu made a potential thirty to forty year jail sentence seem like a vacation to the islands. As far as the speedster was concerned, it couldn't have happened to two more deserving men.

This seemed to be a constant theme for all of their associates.

The recently deposed Queen Bee was rotting away in a Bialyan prison cell, awaiting a trial that would never come. Sometimes being a cruel oppressive dictator could really come back to bite you in the ass.

The Brain was sitting in what was essentially an oversized Mason jar in the science wing of Supermax. Klarion was still banished to his home dimension, now with an immortal Dr. Fate patiently awaiting his return. Only Ra's al Ghul and Black Manta remained at large, but Nightwing had assured the speedster their days were numbered.

And to top it all off, the Reach were squarely on the Green Lantern's Corps radar, just waiting for them to break the ageless treaty they'd signed with the Guardians. Needless to say they would not be getting an invitation to Earth.

With the major players off the board, there would be no need for Tula's brave sacrifice, and no unearthed demon for her to fight. Choosing between Kaldur and Garth was a battle for another day.

All of this due to one college physics student from Central City. Not too shabby

Twenty minutes later, he arrived at his apartment yawning as he inserted his key into the lock, quietly opening the squeaky door as to not to wake his fellow neighbors though the paper thin walls of the duplex. It wasn't anywhere near as nice as the place he'd had in Palo Alto, but it would do.

He sat down at the table of his small cramped kitchen, opening his laptop and preparing to run the gauntlet between life science and applied mathematics, when he caught site of the object sitting on his counter.

One single cupcake; yellow cake, chocolate frosting, a waxen candle in the shape of the number twenty resting atop it. A Mary West special delivery.

Wally walked over to it, dipping his finder into the deep rich frosting.

God it was good

Breaking all laws of god and man, the speedster placed the cupcake in the refrigerator to save it for later. Stifling a yawn, he surrendered and closed his laptop, deciding a few hours' sleep wouldn't kill anyone. It was just one report, it's not like it was the end of the world.

He stripped off his clothes, grabbing a pair of shorts from the hamper, brushed his teeth and sat down on the edge of his bed.

A little over two years from now, in a future that no longer existed, he was taking his last breath, watching his hand fade into nothingness, regret and sadness filling his heart in its final moments. And then it would all start over again.

Darkness, Pain, Consciousness, Velocity, Prayers, Memories, Hope, Escape.

Was that now a life long since passed or one yet to live? Tomorrow never knows

There will always be a world to save. Artemis once told him. No truer words had ever spoken. If or when that time ever came, he'd face it head on, ready to stand with his friends if they needed him, ready to save the world one more time if need be, but until it was time to stop worrying about tomorrow and live for today.

Wally pulled up the covers, fluffed his pillow, and laid his exhausted body under the blankets for a few short hours respite. His eyes drifted closed, the sandman literally knocking at the door when the warm body lying next to him rolled over, a bare arm flopping over and wrapping around his torso.

"You ok?" the archer asked, her husky voice bathed in drowsiness.

"I'm fine babe, just a long day. Go back to sleep."

Artemis pulled him in closer, her human heating pad finally home and knocking the chill out of the cold apartment.

"It's after midnight, Happy Birthday babe," she yawned, kissing the back of his neck as she slowly drifted away. He knew the celebrations would begin tomorrow, but right now his biggest gift was lying in the bed next to him. Frankly, he couldn't ask for a more.

"Thanks babe," he smiled, his heavy eyes closing, contentment filling his soul. In the morning they'd read about Todd's dramatic rescue and the Joker's apprehension together; Artemis careful not to ask, Wally careful not to tell.

Tomorrow never knows.

xxx

Author's Note. This was undoubtedly one of my favorite chapters to write. My apologies in advance to any Batman or Red Hood diehards out there. My facts may be a little off, and a very popular character temporarily postponed from entering the Batfamily lore, but let's all assume things work out under less gruesome circumstances.

I have one, maybe two epilogues left to write. If you're digging them, maybe I'll do more. Tomorrow never knowsJ