A/N: Hello m'dears… we have come to the end. Hopefully, you have enjoyed the ride as much as I have!

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Epilogue.

The sky was beginning to lighten in the east. False dawn, but the real deal would appear soon enough. Batman activated the comlink built into his cowl.

"Alfred."

"Yes, Master Bruce?" The butler's voice said less than a second later.

"Did Raya and Damian make it back to the Manor safely?"

"Yes, sir, they did."

"And is Raya still at the Manor?" he drawled. "Or is the Manor missing two occupants?"

"Oh, Master Richard and Miss Raya are together." There was a suspicious note of humor in Alfred's voice. "But they are not at the Manor, I'm afraid."

His eyes narrowed into thin slits. "And where exactly are they?" he grumbled. He should have known that his eldest two would sneak off at the first chance they got. It had been that way when they'd been kids. Why should he expect them to do anything less now that they were adults?

"They," the butler said. "Along with Master Damian are waiting for you in the back of the limousine."

Beneath his cowl, his eyebrows shot up. "The limousine?" he questioned faintly. "Why are they waiting for me in the back of the limousine?"

"Miss Raya thought it best for Batman to be picked up in Bruce Wayne's limousine to avoid any suspicion about why Batman was flying his plane over Wayne Manor."

His lips kicked up at the corners. Leave it to his imp to think of something like that. "And where is Bruce Wayne's limousine going to be picking Batman up at?"

"On the access road east of the freeway," was the reply.

"I'll be there in ten minutes."


This was her fault, he thought peevishly. If his beloved would not have fought him, if she would have just cleaved to him (as all women should), then none of this would have happened. This was not how this night was supposed to have ended! It wasn't! He was supposed to have won! He was supposed to have defeated Batman! He was supposed to have gotten rid of the other Bat-brats (Nightwing most especially). He was supposed to have his intended swear her fealty to him by handing over Inceptive (and her lush body) to him. He should be rejoicing in his coup, not wandering the empty streets in the early morning light and wondering how his carefully crafted plans had gone so awry.

Right now, he should be pouring over Dr. Berkeley's research notes, analyzing his data and seeing just why it was that his own concoction had met with failure time and time again. Batman and his winged brat would be secured in one of his neural pods, waiting to be given a dose of the new serum that he and his beloved would have created together. It had been the perfect plan. Capture Batman and Robin, trade them for the behavioral agent and his beloved and then dose them both with his toxin.

Yet something had gone wrong. His plan had come completely apart. And because of it, he now found himself wandering the streets of the city that was supposed to be, at that very moment, quaking with fear. While he was wandering he realized he had a bit of a problem: where exactly was he? His beloved's move had completely disoriented him. He had to do something, anything, though, and so he chose to continue walking. And while he walked, he planned his vengeance upon the woman who'd so cruelly used him. Oh, he'd have his revenge, he guaranteed it. He'd make the little twit pay for her betrayal. How dare she spurn his affection! Just who did she think she was?

The Scarecrow didn't know how long he walked, or where he was even walking to. He stood still, in the shadows created by a train trestle, his senses alive and tingling. Where to go? He certainly could not return to Berkeley Hall. The Hall would be crawling with police activity at that time. That had been his original destination once he had his intended and Inceptive in his grasp. He could return to Arkham. The majority of the asylum had been damaged in the clown's takeover. Most of it was unusable. The morgue, however, was still accessible. It was an idea. But how to get there without being seen by any number of the police roaming the city, or by Batman himself, could prove to be especially difficult. So where else could he go?

Suddenly he felt a shift deep with himself. Felt Jonathan Crane struggling to rise to the surface. He felt that simpering, sniveling, spineless side of himself swell within him, trying to oust him, to seize control of him. As if he was going to allow that to happen! He had things to do, and plans to make! But then he heard that refined little voice say, "use her lab."

Yes, Scarecrow thought. Use her lab. Like most doctors of their profession, Dr. Kean had a small laboratory that Gotham University had given to her for purposes of psychological research. Yes, it was perfect. Brilliant even! Nobody would think to look for him in her lab. They wouldn't believe that he'd dare return to the very place where he'd begun his own career so many years ago. He cackled, long and low, and was about to turn in the direction he presumed the university was in when a car pulled up at the curb beside him. Scarecrow turned to gaze at the black luxury vehicle, mildly curious about who could be inside. The back right passenger side window lowered.

"Dr. Crane, I presume?" a deep, cultured voice asked from the darkness of the car's interior.

No! he wanted to scream. Not Dr. Crane! Scarecrow! But was he? he suddenly wondered. Was he the Scarecrow? Or was he Dr. Jonathan Crane? No, he was neither one, actually. He was both Jonathan Crane and the Scarecrow at that moment. However, there was a matter of professionalism at stake here. He reached up and pulled off the burlap mask, officially becoming Dr. Crane.

"Yes, I am Dr. Crane," he replied politely. "Is there something that I can do for you?"

"Why, yes," the man said pleasantly. "There is something that you can do for me, Dr. Crane. In fact," he continued in that genial tone, "only you can do this for me."

"And what is it that you need me to do for you?" Crane inquired.

"If you will step into my vehicle, I shall tell you exactly what it is that I need you to do for me."

The door opened and the doctor saw a hand that was long and elegant retract back into the dark interior. Crane looked at the vehicle, silently considering his options. Staying out here increased the possibility of either the cops or Batman catching up with him. Climbing into the vehicle and listening to whatever this man had to say was his only viable option. Still, there was a certain element of propriety which had been overlooked, one that Crane felt it was necessary to correct before he could agree to any business dealings with this man.

"I'm afraid we are at a bit of an impasse here, my good man," he said. "You see, you know who I am, but I am quite ignorant as to who you are…" he trailed off and smiled expectantly.

There was a slight sound which could have been a sigh before he heard the man say, "Strange," in a deep baritone. "Hugo Strange."

Crane frowned, dark brows drawing together over his sharp nose. "You would not happen to be Doctor Hugo Strange, now, would you?"

"Indeed, I am, Dr. Crane," Strange replied. "Now, please, get in."

Despite his momentary misgivings about climbing into a car with a man that had the reputation that Dr. Strange had, Crane did.

What other choice did he have?


Over in the Industrial District, the Joker was reveling in his success. He kicked up his heels and skipped through the ole Sionnis Mill, in the highest spirits he'd been since the failed night at Arkham all those (now forgotten) moons ago. He'd procured the Doc, gotten rid of ole Johnny boy, and reestablished how he was the Clown Prince of Crime. Plus, he'd reminded Batman about how he did not like being ignored (I mean really, who did?). Gotham as well as his Knight were his again to torment and torture! He spun in a wide circle, chortling with his glee.

The only thing that mighta made the Joker happier than he was at that moment, indeed, the only thing that could have made him happier than he was at that moment, was if he'd managed to have gotten his hands upon the Red Hood (and that adorable little minx, as well). Still need to teach those two scamps a lesson about messing with their Uncle Joker, he mused while he went gamboling into his private quarters. Ah, but there is always tomorrow, he told himself, a smile splitting his fractured lips. Oh, with Cransey now outta the way, Bats was sure to wanna play a game with him. And what better game is there for us to play than the ole stop me before I kill one of your winged brats one? he thought gleefully.

His shrill laugh rang throughout the Mill then. His goons, Mr. Hammer and Harley all stopped what they were doing to glance up at the Manager's office, uneasy about what was making the Harlequin of Hate giggle quite so hysterically. Each and every one of them hoped that the repercussions from his mirth were not going to fall down upon their heads once everything was all said and done.


Alfred turned into the Berkeley driveway late that morning and stopped by the gate.

"Go on up to the house, Alfred," Raya said.

"Well, where the house used to be," Dick drawled. "Nothing left but bits at this point, Rae."

Raya responded by making a soft sound low in her throat. Dick drew her head down onto his shoulder; she relented with a tiny sigh, her lips brushing his temple. His gaze met Bruce's. He saw exhaustion breaking through to haunt the older man's eyes and face. It had been a long, emotional night for all of them. The figure situated between he and Raya protested when Dick jostled him by accident, but was lulled back to sleep when Raya stroked her fingers over the back of his head. Dick hid a smile. Damian had been the one most out of sorts while she'd been gone. Their little bird had absolutely no liking for when his perfectly ordered chaos was disrupted. And he didn't mind letting any of them know about how he felt when his world was tossed completely upside down. Totally not like Bruce in that regard, Dick thought as he curled his arm around Raya. The remnants of the once grand Estate swelled into view, appearing even uglier in the morning sunlight then they had been in the semidarkness of early dawn. Nothing was left of the structure except for blackened timbers and the fragments of one of the columns that had once graced the front entrance. Most of the foundation was still intact, just buried beneath a mountain of ash and rubble. Jason, Raya and Tim were the first to leave the limo after Alfred pulled to a stop.

"Ya sure don't do anything half ass," Jason grumbled as he saw the devastation the petite woman had wrought. "Now do ya, Kit?"

Raya snorted. "Was I absent on the day that Bruce taught us to do something half ass?"

"Pretty sure that Bruce never taught us to do anything half ass," Tim retorted. "Not his style."

Jason shook his head. "Exactly how much explosive did ya use?" he asked her.

"Everything you had in your storage locker."

Jason sighed and mumbled something that sounded like, "shoulda changed the goddamn passcode," but otherwise didn't reply. Raya merely shot an amused look towards Tim. He stepped closer, draping an arm around her shoulders before asking, "How you feeling, Nix?"

How was she feeling? Exhausted, definitely. But what was she feeling emotionally? She didn't have a clue. There wasn't any one distinct emotion coursing through her at that moment. It would come later, she was sure. "I don't know," she told Tim finally. "I'm not at a point where it's hit me that it's over."

"Well, it's over for now."

"Yeah," she agreed on a long sigh. "I know."

"Crane'll be back," Jason added, "and he'll be twice as vicious after having his plans thwarted."

"We'll be ready for him."

Jason snorted. "That was a lame because we're a family speech, Kit."

"Jas?"

"Yeah?"

"Fuc…"

A hand clamped over Raya's mouth, effectively silencing what it was that she was going to say. "Language, imp."

Raya contented herself by shooting a dirty look in Jason's direction. He just smirked back at her before glancing again at the ruins of the house. "So, what are ya planning ta do with the property now?"

"I'm going to rebuild the house just as it was."

"Just as it was, Rae?" Dick asked as he joined the four figures. "You aren't going to make any changes or modifications to the house and its general layout?"

"Nope. Everything is gonna be the same." Then she glanced at him. "Why?"

"'Cause I'm thinking that now would be a good time to make some…" he paused; grinned. "Improvements."

Her lips twitched. "Like to the tunnels and caves that are below the property, you mean?"

"Uh-huh." He flashed a cheeky grin at her. "I mean, if you're gonna have a cave of your own, ya may as well make sure that it's built right."

"But honey," she teased. "All the cool toys are at your house."

Dick hooked a finger in her top and pulled her into his arms. "I knew you only liked me for my toys."

"But I love you because you're you."

Dick dropped a kiss to her lips. "Same as I love you."