A very big light has left our world today. :( Rest In Peace, Robin Williams. Rest In Peace, Genie. Fighting the depression day after day, year after year, is a special kind of hell, but you did anyway, Mr. Williams, and you were so brave to do that for so long! Thank you for the wonderful memories you've given us, the works of art you left behind — a large and important piece of our childhoods.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews, 4S and Jim. They meant a lot to me. 4S, nothing too scary, just have some long-term migraine stuff. Staring at the computer or TV for too long tends to make them worse. Didn't mean to worry you, my friend. Jim, two reviews, thank you so much! :) Thank you for the word choice catch on Ch 13 (how does "defeated" sound instead?). Sadly, no more Crane until the Epilogue. True, he probably wouldn't want to join Rā's mad plot to wipe out humanity. I think he and Ivy are mirror images for each other - both ecoterrorists and supreme misanthropes, sexist to an extent (Poison Ivy against men, Rā's against women), and both love the color green… Alas, they could have been perfect for each other, if they didn't clash so much...

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Redemption, Restitution, & Resurrection

-Chapter Eighteen: THE QUEST, Part One-

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Zsasz sat up in the overly small bathtub. Red water rolled off his shoulders, and he sighed contentedly.

The water was piping hot from the old furnace he had used to heat it. Luckily there were coals down here, in spite of the muck and grime. And there was even a convenient pulley to draw water out of the moat below. He didn't want to think about how clean the water was. Surely the heat would have killed anything unsavory. And while the water itself was icy blue, it was surrounded by tubes of green liquid running up long metal braces, lest the roof come tumbling down.

"Ahhhh…" he leaned his head back and smiled.

For once, it wasn't the blood of the piggies that was covering him. It was his own.

168 marks. His glorious work was one-third complete; he had managed to re-scar himself on his chest, arms, shoulders, back — though that one was difficult. He wasn't finished, no, not yet. But he needed to give his body time to heal. It wouldn't do to pass out again.

He chewed a piece of stale bread thoughtfully as he looked in the dusty mirror.

He had regained some weight this past week. Before he was emaciated, practically skeletal. But now there was a healthy flush in his cheeks. He grinned. A wicked smile full of malice. And a world, unsuspecting, waiting just for him...

The green light from below bounced off the walls and his wet skin. In the dimness, it made it look as though he were covered with black blood.

A young boy, falling before his knife- The cries of a mother-

Zsasz shuddered, and his stomach lurched.

"Not tonight," he whispered before holding up his knife once more. He paused. The wounds on his forehead had not fully healed. He had been treating them with Neosporin, as per usual when he received a mark he didn't care for. Once again, he thought of Danielle and her baseball bat, and in response, his head wounds pulsed again. She really had grown, hadn't she? Same fire, different magnitude.

He grinned and raised the knife again resolutely. No sense in waiting. When he saw her next, he intended to look his best.

Three slashes later (for he had already created the one on the day of the Gotham Square Massacre), and the tally on his forehead was restored. Blood dripped into his eyes and down his lips. Instinctively, he licked.

"Hahaha… Hahahahahaa!" What started as a low laugh burst forth in vigor, and with the salty taste tainting his palate, Victor Zsasz felt ever closer to being whole.

It was well into Monday evening when he called her again. Bathed, wearing a warm hoodie to conceal his marks, he had strolled at his leisure to one of his favorite phone booths. It was in a rough neighborhood, of course. One where the police even hated to venture. There were residents all around. There were also pickpockets, thieves, probably even small-time criminals. He kept his eyes open as he dialed the now-familiar number.

"Hello?"

He closed his eyes and smiled at the sound of her voice. "Good evening, my Alive Girl."

After a second, she replied, "Hello, Zsasz."

"I just had to call you to ask how your dear friends are doing," his voice was sly. "By any chance, are they still in the hospital?"

He expected her to freak out, to show her famous temper. "They're fine, Zsasz. How are you doing this evening?"

"I- what?" The question caught him off-guard, and he stared at the phone incredulously. "Why- why did you ask me that?" She should be worrying over the fates of her precious piggies!

"I just want to know how you're doing."

"You never ask me these kinds of questions." A jolt of paranoia crept in. "What are you playing at, woman?!"

For a moment he thought she might laugh, or even scoff at him, say something snarky — anything normal. But she spoke in a low, resigned tone instead.

"Maybe I just want to know... Maybe it's because I care."

Now he was completely bewildered. "What do you care about?" Was she admitting she… cared about him?

"What happened to you when you were Rā's prisoner?"

Oh no she didn't.

"...You have the audacity to…" he growled. "Do you pity me, Danielle? Is that why you're asking me, or are you trying to thrust the knife in a little deeper?"

"Zsasz, you've been off ever since you came back. Whatever happened to you… it was serious. Ignoring it isn't going to help you."

"What is there to tell? He experimented on me. He used me! Are you happy?!" he shrilled.

"Why would that make me happy…?" She sounded genuinely irritated. "It wouldn't be in my morals, let alone my job description, to be happy about someone being victimized. In fact, it's part of my job description to take it seriously when a person's been abused."

"So this is all just something you're doing in the name of your self-defense work? What, do you hope to reform me, force me to lay down my sacred mission, and set me on the path of 'good and righteousness' so that I won't kill anyone anymore?!"

"Yes."

"I knew it!"

"I hope you won't kill anyone anymore, starting with YOURSELF, Zsasz. You aren't healthy. I truly don't think you've been healthy since your parents died, have you? You've been in agony for so long… What if I want to help you just because I can't stand anyone being in so much pain?"

He didn't answer – he wondered where she was going with this.

"My main work is to help people overcome their traumas. It's to help people gain back their self-confidence and heal after someone robbed it from them! I recognize the signs of abuse, even if you don't recognize them in yourself. You're a victim... Victor. Rā's took something from you — your agency and your well-being — and made you into a victim! You need help. You need to heal."

"Don't you dare call me a victim!"

"It's the truth!" she stated vehemently. "Don't run from it, it doesn't make you weak-"

"I need to kill him!" His self-control suddenly snapped. "I need his mark!"

"I know you do," she tried to soothe him. "I know what he did to you is probably eating you up inside. I want to help you!"

"I don't need anyone's help!" He tore his forehead scabs in his frustration. Blood stained his fingers and dripped down his brow.

"You think you don't! You… you think you're all alone…" she muttered, "because for the last three years, you were alone. That must have been horrible. I can relate. I… you know, this is something I really struggle with. You put me through something very similar…" He scoffed; he remembered, of course. "You'd think I'd be happy you suffered too. But… but when I think of you going through this, anyone going through it… I get sick inside."

"So this is really just about assuaging your own feelings?"

"No-... No. You probably won't believe this. Why would you?" She took a deep breath. "For the longest time, I've wanted nothing more than to see you get better. Get to the point where your world isn't so dark anymore, and you don't hurt others to fill up your own emptiness. I'm... here for you, Zsasz, in spite of everything you've ever done to me. It's not just my self-defense teacher side coming out… It's always been personal between us, hasn't it? You are forever a part of my life, Victor Zsasz. And I am a permanent part of yours."

Nostalgia swept through him. He had said words with the same sentiment to her three years ago, after she had tried to kill him in the abandoned building. To hear her say them now… It made him unexpectedly warm inside.

"It must be hard, someone like you, who is used to feeling power over others… feeling so powerless over himself."

"It's not about power," he murmured. "It's never been about power. It's about doing what I'm capable of doing, and what I know needs to be done. Curing these victims of their meaningless lives-"

"It is about power! Why else would you scar yourself for each person?"

"To remember them! They must not be forgotten! None of them must be forgotten!" He sighed. "My dime is running out. I need to go soon."

"Of course. But there's something I need to clarify with you before you do."

"What is it?"

"Go after my friends again, and you won't ever hear from me again. Is that clear?"

His heart jolted. He tried to keep his voice calm. "Empty threats, Danielle?"

"No. You-" she chuckled mirthlessly. "You have no idea just how much I mean this. It's something I've been thinking very seriously about, and yes, I know your mercy only extends up to a certain point. It's simple, really. If you were to go after my friends again, I wouldn't be able to speak to you. Iknow my limits, that's all. It won't matter if you torture me or kill me outright. Now... if that doesn't matter to you, then… well, it is what it is. Enjoy your solitude. If, on the other hand, you value our conversations and our connection as much as you say you do, then…"

"Even if I do value our conversations, why should I agree to your terms?"

"Leave my friends alone, and I promise you something… I will never ignore you. You will have my undivided attention." He sucked in his breath. "I will never leave you, Zsasz." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Does that sound like a deal?"

Finally, they were playing the same game. Good. There would be no rest from now on. For either of them.

One more sacrifice today, and everything would be in place.

Last night seemed so far away now...

She had done what she had to last night. And today, she would do what she had to again.

She unlocked her office. No crisp white note sitting on her desk. She breathed a sigh of relief; the nightmare really was over. Though one of her scarves was mysteriously lying on the floor… It smelled vaguely like cologne. Hmm.

She cleaned the mats. Filled out paperwork, including signed a notice of certification that the direct threat to her students was now behind bars and classes were safe to resume.

She waited for her students to arrive. When they did, she told them the good news. Their classes were finally safe again. When she saw the happiness on her students' faces, and the way they began hugging each other, she made a vow to herself then and there that they would never have to fear for their safety again. Not in her sanctuary. She would protect her classroom by whatever means necessary...

Her students had a different energy today. Lighter. More confident. The news had boosted their determination so much higher, and their teamwork too. She even heard Theodore telling them tales of their exploits on Friday night. They came over, wanting to congratulate her. Looking up to her. Despite her pride in them, she held them at arm's length.

No more picnics with her students. She would never know when Zsasz was watching or not. No more hugs or special displays of confidence. Any student she appeared to favor was a student she was potentially putting in danger. She knew this.

And yet, as she watched Theodore train, and the class wound down towards the end and the time that they would say goodbye… She felt a deep regret that she hadn't succeeded in making the world just a little bit safer. For him, for all of them.

She hugged Theodore one last time. He looked down at her, cheeks reddened and so very proud. He had graduated in a sense; and he was a survivor once again.

He agreed to the plan, surprisingly. Earlier, during class, he had confided in her that this was a good chance for him to escape his situation: unbeknownst to Danielle, her prized student had been getting attacked every single day on his way home from work, for the past several months. It was only because of the self-defense classes, he reassured her, that he had been able to avoid his bullies — but they had always been there waiting for him, even if they were unsuccessful. In fact, that time just a few weeks ago, when they'd broken his nose, had happened to be a fluke, an unlucky day — on his part. But the thugs hadn't been acting any differently than any other day.

Moving to a safehouse was freedom for him. Safety.

It broke Danielle's heart to know how badly her student had been getting treated, and that she hadn't known sooner — that now he had to leave his life behind because of some despicable bullies, only one of which was Zsasz. She felt a deep guilt to know she had failed him so many times.

Pushing away her distress, she smiled up at him for the last time. "Good luck, Theodore… and stay safe."

For once, he didn't stutter. "Thank you for everything, Miss Danielle."

She watched the bus pull away from the hospital curb and waved until the taillights faded.

There was a substitute at the lobby's front desk. Danielle felt another pang of guilt. She went up to the third floor and made her way to Mrs. Phillips' recovery room. When she got there, she saw that Cindy was already there, keeping a silent vigilance over the old woman. She looked up as Danielle entered.

"Any word about capturing him?"

"Not yet," Danielle said grimly. "Any word on Mrs. Phillips' condition?"

"Her blood pressure's still being monitored. Zsasz gave her a nasty scare. And I don't want you blaming yourself for that, even though I know it's too late and you're already doing it. For what it's worth, Mrs. Phillips wouldn't want you to, either."

Danielle bowed her head. Her best friend knew her too well. "Is Dante coming to pick you up?"

"Yes."

"Good. You let me know if anything happens. It shouldn't, but let me know."

Cindy gave her a side look. "You did something, didn't you? What did you do?"

"I made a deal with him. He leaves you guys alone, and I won't ignore him anymore. He agreed… providing I never speak to or see Theodore again. I put him on a bus to a safehouse a few minutes ago."

"You did the right thing with Theodore. Safety's Number One, you know that, heck that's your motto! Now as for the rest of that…" Any other best friend would have made wild assumptions and gone out of their mind with worry. Not Cindy. "I know you, girl, and I know you wouldn't make a deal with him without some sort of plan. So what is it?"

"Simple. I'll get close, get him to lower his guard, then either get him arrested or knock him out and drag him back to Arkham myself!"

"Good plan. Do you need any help?"

"Make sure you take good care of yourself, Mrs. Phillips, and Dante. That's how you can do the most. If I appear to be alone, Zsasz will get cocky. He'll make mistakes - leave an opening for me to exploit."

"You sure? Remember how he isolated you before, Dani. It nearly killed you."

"It won't. Back then, I thought I was alone. But now, I know I'm not." She put a hand on her best friend's shoulder. Cindy embraced her suddenly.

"After everything he's done to ruin your life, I'm amazed you didn't try to kill him."

"I did. Twice. It didn't hold either time, and it nearly cost me my sanity both times when I did it. Took me three years to even begin to live a normal life, and I couldn't have done it at all if it hadn't been for you." Danielle smiled gently at her. "I know my limits this time. I don't think I can do it again. I don't even know if it would last if I did do it. But I'm certainly not about to stand by while he hurts people either. Jail is pretty much a win-win situation, know what I mean?"

Cindy nodded. "If he approaches me, do I have 'permission' to take him out?"

"Permission? You don't need it. But I think I know what you're asking, and… I would never judge you, Cindy. I'd just be happy you're alive. And for doing what I couldn't."

Danielle left shortly after and Cindy stared after her, a terrible aching in her heart. Dani was her best friend, and nothing would ever change that. So why did it just feel like they had said goodbye, that they wouldn't be seeing each other for a long time? She shivered.

"I was awake, you know."

She looked in surprise down at Mrs. Phillips. The old woman wasn't wearing her glasses, but her face was as serious as always. "So she has endeavored to take him down all by herself."

"Makes sense," Cindy defended her best friend. "He's obsessed with her. She's got the best shot at stopping him without losing her life. And this is something she needs to do…"

"…For herself," Mrs. Phillips nodded knowingly. "Because for all her efforts to escape him, she is obsessed with him too."

Wednesday. The seedy Burnley district stank of garbage. The paper wavered between her index and third fingers. Where was this address anyway? She didn't recognize the street name.

And yet her footsteps never wavered.

Her old life was gone. As long as Zsasz was still on the loose, her old life would remain gone. And yet… she meant every word when she told him she would never ignore him. She never could. He was, as they had both said at one time or another, a permanent part of her life.

She rubbed the scar on the back of her neck. A memento from him. "I just hope I can reach him."

Her self-defense instincts were tingling as she turned down Morrison Street. Almost immediately, she crossed to the other side. A drug deal was going down halfway up the block. The puffy jackets could just be for them to keep warm, but knowing this neighborhood, there was a good chance they were packing heat. She didn't need to be around that.

She remembered the unsuccessful visit she'd made to the gun store a few years ago. What ever happened to the handsome man she'd met shopping in there? She wondered sometimes.

She gritted her teeth, searching for the alleyway the private investigator's office was on.

This was the perfect place for a private investigator to be working; a place where suspicious behavior blended right in with the norm. If they did it right, the investigator could have Zsasz's location in her hands within a matter of days. She shivered a little imagining what would happen if Zsasz were to catch this private investigator tailing him. After all, didn't the consummate stalker have some sort of anti-stalking contingency when he was on the receiving end?

Good thing she'd gone with someone cheap, according to the phone book anyway. If the PI charged extra for tailing escaped convicts, maybe she'd be able to afford it. Zsasz was more dangerous than the average person. She hoped the PI would be careful. Then again, she supposed that he or she would have to be in order to survive in Gotham of all places. He or she would have to be good.

Finally she reached the address. There were no ad signs, but there was a large distinctive question mark painted just above the doorway. Here goes nothing. She glanced both ways before entering the PI's office...

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