Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins

"Vanessa, I really don't think this is a good idea," Jim said in earnest, as they stood in her front yard. "Barbara and I would be happy to have you, if you want to stay somewhere else for awhile."

"I appreciate the concern, but sooner or later – I'll have to face this."

"I'm just worried about you, Vanessa. Crane is still out there; it's not safe."

"He won't come here. If he even managed to get out of the asylum alive, he's long gone by now. Sticking around Gotham, or coming after me would be crazy."

"He is crazy, Vanessa; don't forget that," Jim warned.

"Not that kind of crazy. He's gone; I'm sure of it."

Jim looked down at the ground, choosing his next words carefully.

"There's something else," he said. "When you open that door, you have to be prepared for what you're going to find."

"I know, but whether I go in now, or two weeks from now won't make a difference; things won't miraculously go away."

"Okay, but I'm going in with you, whether you want me to or not," he insisted.

She smiled at him warmly as she opened the front door and stepped inside. Vanessa's jaw dropped; her home was…spotless. Not a single item was out of place. She and Jim went upstairs and found the rest of the house to be equally as clean. It was like nothing had ever happened. Even the bedding in the master bedroom was new. For a moment, Vanessa wondered if she was in the right house.

"Who did this?" she asked, not expecting an answer.

Utterly speechless, they returned to the kitchen where she found the refrigerator and pantry had been fully stocked with her favorite foods.

Vanessa looked at Jim, who was now reading through an envelope that had been left on the kitchen table.

"It looks like you have a new home security system as well. I think we just missed the installers," he said.

"I don't get it; why would someone go to all this trouble?" she asked.

"I guess you have a secret admirer; the good kind this time," he said as he handed her another small envelope with her name written on it. "Read this, and I'll get the system armed."

She opened the envelope slowly and unfolded the letter inside:

Vanessa,

I know what it's like to lose the people you love the most in this world. I only hope to provide you with a small amount of comfort and safety during this difficult time.

Best Wishes,

B

"Who the heck is B?" she wondered.

"It's all set, Vanessa," Jim yelled from the hallway. "If somebody tries to get in, we're going to know about it. This is amazing; crime scene clean-up services like this cost about $250 an hour, and this security system is top-of-the-line."

"So now do you feel more comfortable leaving me by myself?" she asked.

"No; I still plan to drive by your house at least every ten minutes, call you constantly, and drop by unexpectedly to make sure you're alright," he only half-joked.

"Thanks, dad," she said with a smile.

Since they had met in the asylum face-to-face, he had gradually become like a surrogate father to her. After the riots, when they had moved her back to Gotham General, he had stopped in at least once a day to visit. When they released her from the hospital, he had insisted on bringing her home.

"Keep this system armed at all times, Vanessa; no exceptions. If you see even the slightest indication that Crane is around, or if he tries to contact you in any way, I want you to call the police immediately. I'd rather have a dozen false alarms then have that maniac get near you again."

"Believe me, if I see him again, you'll be the first to know. Now will you get out of here? Go home and see your family; I'll be fine."

"Okay, okay I'll go, but I will be checking on you soon."

Vanessa gave him a kiss on the cheek before he left. It truly warmed her heart to have a man like him in her life. Thank God not every soul in Gotham was lost. She thumbed through the owner's manual of her new security system; apparently, there was another control panel in the upstairs hallway that she had passed by without noticing.

My powers of observation are as keen as ever!

That control panel had a panic button; if she pressed it, a silent alarm would summon the police. She prayed she would never need to make use of it.

The house was quiet now; the gentle humming of the refrigerator was the only sound. Her hands started shaking – grief and anxiety were beginning to take hold. How was she going to spend her first night alone in this house? It didn't seem possible.

Vanessa turned on the television for distraction and immediately regretted doing so. Jonathan's picture filled the screen; she felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach. Would it always be like this? She hoped not. Her only consolation was that everyone else knew what he looked like, whether they wanted to or not. There was no way he could show his face now without being recognized.

She turned the television off, deciding she had more pressing matters to attend to. She grabbed her car keys and stepped into the garage. Something flew straight at her face when she stepped through the door, and she screamed in terror; a million thoughts rushed through her mind in that instant. How could she have been so stupid? She should have gone to Jim's house or at least had him check every inch of her home before she let him leave. Jonathan had been waiting, waiting for her to be alone until he made his move. She slowly pulled her hands away from her eyes, afraid of what she was going to see. A chipmunk scurried by her feet and ran face first into the garage door, trying to get out. Well, this rodent wasn't as frightening as Jonathan Crane, but she yelled again in shock as she raised the door.

"Shoo, get out of here! You're nothing but a mouse with a fluffy god damned tail," she yelled.

When her heart rate returned to normal, she got in the car and backed out of the driveway. Driving for the first time in three months was a wonderful experience. Funny how we take these simple things for granted. If nothing else, her experience had given her a new appreciation of life. She stopped by a local flower shop, and picked up two bouquets before heading to the cemetery.

"Hey you," she said as she approached her husbands grave. "Sorry it took me so long to get here. I got a bit held up, but you probably knew that already."

Being here, seeing his grave, was more reality than she could handle right now. Maybe it had been a bad idea to come here so soon. She felt guilty; guilty that she had survived and he had not, guilty that she had been with another man, and guilty that it had taken her so long to visit him. These things had been beyond her control – for the most part. Nevertheless, Vanessa began to ache inside.

"I miss you," she sobbed.

She placed the flowers on his grave and sat there in silence for what seemed like ages. Finally, she rose to her feet.

"I've got to go, sweetheart. There's someone else here that I have to visit, but I'll be back soon" She paused for a moment, staring at the flowers she had just placed on his grave "I love you," she said softly.

As she walked through the cemetery, she noticed that the seasons were changing. Winter was giving way to spring; the days were getting longer and most of the snow had melted. A patch of it still covered Julie's grave marker; Vanessa bent down and brushed it away.

Julie Knauss

1970-2005

Vanessa placed the flowers just below the grave stone. That feeling of guilt returned. She couldn't help but feel responsible for Julie's death.

No, Jonathan did this, all of this.

A cold wind swept over her and she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth.

"You fought for me when I wasn't strong enough to fight for myself. I'll never forget you."

Vanessa was reticent in leaving; she somehow felt disrespectful for not staying longer, but it was getting dark now, and she wanted to get home before the sun set. Something about coming home to a dark house made her uneasy.

Thankfully, she made it home just before nightfall. She entered the house and punched the security code into the keypad, being sure to re-arm the system as she had promised Jim she would. She ate dinner in the living room, listening to music instead of watching television. After consuming far too much wine, she fell asleep on the couch. Her first night back at home passed without incident.

The next two weeks went by in much the same manner. At Jim's request, she had begun meeting with a therapist twice a week. Vanessa's only demand had been that the therapist be female. Things were going well, but the nights were tough. She'd taken to drinking three or four glasses of wine before bed, just so she could sleep through the night. All the typical noises of home – the house settling, the heat coming on - frightened her and kept her awake. Without the wine, she couldn't escape the anxiety and the feeling that she was being watched. It wasn't a solution, by any means, but it was all she could manage right now.

And so it was this night, as she lay in bed, legally drunk. That creeping sound was coming from the attic again; just like it did every night.

It's just the house settling. Calm down and go to sleep.

The phone jolted her awake the next morning. Vanessa looked at the clock and saw it was 11:30. With a raging hangover, she picked up the phone and groggily said,

"Hello?"

"Vanessa Martinez?"

"Yes?" she asked.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything; is now a good time to talk?" the voice inquired.

"That depends on what you want to talk about; you're not a reporter, are you?"

So many had been calling her lately that she knew it was just a matter of time before she'd have to change her number.

"I can assure you, I am not. My name is Lucius Fox; I'm CEO of Wayne Enterprises. My employer, Bruce Wayne, asked me to get in touch with you regarding a job opening in our IT Department."

B is for Bruce, isn't it? So, that's who had the house cleaned, the security system installed and paid the mortgage and utilities while I was in the asylum?

"Mr. Fox, forgive me; I don't understand. Why is Bruce Wayne so interested in me?" she asked.

"Vanessa, if we're going to work together, I must insist you call me Lucius," he said in a gentle tone. "Mr. Wayne is a man who admires courage, and you have a great deal of it. If you're going to straighten out our IT Department, believe me, you'll need it."

"Lucius, tell Mr. Wayne that I appreciate all he's done for me; really I do, but I'm hardly a charity case."

"Nor would he or I treat you as one; which is why I'm prepared to offer you less than what you were earning at Gotham University. You'll get no special treatment from me, Mrs. Martinez."

"Well; when you put it that way, who could refuse?" Vanessa asked.

"I'm glad to hear that you're open to the idea, but my intent is not to rush you. Take the week to think about it; if you're still interested, give me a call, and we can discuss a possible start date. How does that sound?"

Vanessa was choked up. Tears came to her eyes, this time caused by happiness.

"It sounds great…thank you, and thank Mr. Wayne, for everything," she said, unable to hide her elation.

"No; thank you, Vanessa. I'm confident you'll be a tremendous asset to Wayne Enterprises, and I look forward to speaking with you again soon."

They ended their conversation and Vanessa hung up the phone, feeling hope for the first time in months. Everything was going to be okay; she was going to put her life back together.

She walked into the bathroom and turned the shower on, letting the water get as hot as she could stand. After undressing, she stepped into the shower and let the warm water cascade over her body. She never thought she'd take so much pleasure in shaving her legs. She didn't even have access to a shower in the asylum, and there was no way they would let her have a razor. Vanessa couldn't help but wonder why Jonathan had been attracted to her in the first place; three months of not shaving left her feeling more like a yeti than a woman. The first time she had shaved her legs when she got home, she thought she would need a weed whacker instead of a disposable razor.

She could have stayed in that shower forever, lost in her own thoughts, but the prospect of a $200 heating bill forced her out.

Vanessa slipped her blue cotton bathrobe over her shoulders, and towel dried her hair. She felt invigorated and ready to face the day. She pulled some socks and underwear from the dresser and turned towards the walk-in closet for some fresh clothes.

When she opened the door, she was face-to-face with a madman.

Author's Note: Hello everyone, hope you're all doing well.

As always, thank you Not Human for your wonderful input. I think the flow of the story has vastly improved since you came along.

I'm sorry to say that my story is gradually coming to an end.  But we're going to have some wild times before it's all said and done.

Special thanks to all who read and review. You guys are the best!