Author's Note: Been forever since I updated and I'm sorry for that, but please enjoy this chapter!

342 Lacrosse Lane didn't look like the lair of an evil super villain. As I approached the street the house was on, I couldn't see anything wrong with it—nothing screamed that it was the home of the new Poison Ivy.

"Mr. Wayne," I muttered into the com-link. "I don't see anything that indicates she's here."

"Check inside," He ordered. "Look for anything out of the ordinary."

"On it," I mumbled as I snuck around to the back door. With a batarang ready, I glanced into the window. There were no signs that anyone had been home for a few years. A lot of the furniture was covered with white sheets and I could see dust gathered on certain spots on the floor. "No signs of people here."

"Go in," He ordered. "And be careful!"

"Aren't I always?" I asked him sarcastically as I slowly pushed open the door. A sickening creak filled the dark room and I braced myself for something scary to appear.

Nothing did.

Relaxing a little, I slipped the batarang into my pocket and surveyed the room. The air was muggy and filled my airway with dust. Stifling a cough, I forced myself to take a few deep breaths and check the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and as I took a few steps towards an old wooden table, I saw a note addressed to Batman. I cautiously picked it up and opened it.

Batman,

Bet you never expected this turn of events, did you? Poor Pamela Isley—killed by her own grandchild! Well, Batman, to be fair, she was only doing what I trained her to do—kill. I groomed her to rule this city and give voices to all the plants and by doing so, signed by own death certificate. I am going to die tonight of poison—a poison that I taught her how to make and she expanded on—and I thought I would write to you one last time. Because, let's face it, you'll be smart enough to figure out I was involved and then come here.

But she's gone. She's left me to die and she's fled to God knows where. I know, not very helpful, but let's face it, I was your enemy once. As I spend my final moments writing to you though, I can give you access to my lab. Touch the painting by mantle piece and enter the code "Grey Gardens Never Die" and you'll be able to gain access. There, you should be able to equip yourself with something to stop her.

Batman, I wonder, if even you can stop her. I was her own flesh and blood and I couldn't, so what makes you think you can?

Nevertheless, I wish you good luck. Bring her down for me, alright? And as she falls, tell her Granny says hello.

Shakily, I put the letter back and walked over to the painting of a woman with vibrant red hair frocking in a field full of crimson roses. Her green eyes seemed to pierce mine and I felt a twinge of sadness well up in me. Pamela Isley—the old Poison Ivy—I had to believe she was in that field looking as happy as the woman in the picture. Sure, she was evil, but I think in her final moments, she finally understood the wrongs she had committed. Lifting the picture, I entered the code into the computer and watched as the wall beside me lifted to reveal a staircase.

Walking down, I gasped at what I saw. For there, on the computer screen was my name with a countdown.

12 hours till death.

She had known I was coming and had left a message for me. Only 12 hours to live and she expected me to run away now, but I wouldn't.

I couldn't stop until I got Terry back.

That was all that mattered—getting Terry back and kicking Ivy's butt!

Author's Note: As always, review! And I'll explain why Dana only has 12 hours to live in the next chapter. Until then!