Welcome back everyone! This is the last chapter of the main story (there will be a short epilogue) so CONGRATULATIONS you have made it to the end. I understand that this is coming out waaaaaaay after chapter nine so if you've comeback after all this time to finish out this adventure you have my sincerest gratitude. I hope this is worth at least some of the wait :)

And as always... I do not own Young Justice

Chapter 11: It's a Long Story

POV: Dick

Renegade couldn't believe how easy this was turning out to be. He'd had no trouble following Batman straight to this isolated building, and when he'd arrived he didn't even have to fight, Bruce was already nicely gift wrapped for him.

He smiled though he was almost disappointed at the lack of a challenge.

Almost.

Bruce had been focusing on something on the other side of the room when Renegade showed up, but he had his full attention now.

"Well Batman, I've been waiting a long time for this," he purred as he took his time making his way toward his trapped prey.

"As have I Renegade," sounded a familiar, male voice from somewhere above him.

Renegade's head snapped up, his relaxed posture dissolving in seconds as he tensed into a defensive position.

"Who's there?" he growled.

'And where have I heard that voice before?' he thought.

"Honestly," the voice sighed, "am I really that forgettable?"

Renegade heard footsteps clanking heavily against a metal floor, seconds later the face that haunted his nightmares emerged from the shadows above him and came to the railing of the catwalk.

"Hello again, Renegade. I was so sad when you left Arkham without even saying goodbye. Most impolite I might add."

Renegade didn't relax, everything about that voice, this man, set him on edge. Unfortunately, he still couldn't figure out why. Something about lightning?

He watched the man study him for a few seconds while Renegade tried to gather his severely fragmented memories into something coherent.

"Fine, seems my electroshock was a little too thorough," the man grumbled, seemingly very put out that whatever dramatic reunion he had planned was being ruined by his own skill. "Take off your belt Renegade."

Renegade's left hand twitched, without thinking he hurried to obey and unclipped the belt from his waist, letting it fall to the floor.

The change was instantaneous.

Dick's eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings once again for the first time.

'A warehouse? Why is it always a warehouse?' he wondered.

"Dick?"

Dick's head snapped to the side, where he was relieved to see Batman seemingly unharmed, but his unease returned when he took in the way he was bound.

"Batman? What's going on here?" he tried to keep his voice as steady as his mentors, but wasn't sure how well he succeeded.

He started to approach the chair so he could untie him but another noise, a groan, made him freeze in his tracks.

"Wally?!" he practically shouted.

His friend was restrained just like Batman, except for the thick metal band holding his head still. An unsettling sense of deja vu came over him as he took in the redhead's bonds, and he suddenly felt a very strong urge to remove that headband.

Abandoning Batman for the time being he ran over to his friend's side and reached for the velcro fastenings.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Dick froze.

That voice. He knew that voice.

"W-who's there?" he called, his hands inches from Wally's head.

"A friend," the voice practically purred from somewhere behind him. "It's nice to see you again Richard."

Dick's confusion was compounded by the strange sense of familiarity the voice triggered in the back of his mind. It was so familiar yet… distorted in some way, like a person you'd only ever spoken to over the phone was speaking to you in person for the first time.

"Do I know you?" he spoke up again, getting more uncomfortable by the second.

"I'll admit you got here a lot faster than I expected you would" the voice continued, ignoring his question.

"Here? Where-" Dick started to ask but the voice cut him off.

"It's a shame all our hard work didn't lead to more fruitful results, but 'sometimes a cigar is just a cigar' as Freud was so fond of saying," the voice continued to drone.

"What are you-"

"How is the voice Richard? Does it still bother you as much as it used to?"

Dick was silent. The voice? How could this person know about that, the only people he'd told were Bruce, Alfred, and-

"Strange?" he whispered.

"There you go Richard. It's always nice to receive visits from my former patients. However, I can't have anyone unexpectedly leaving before treatment is completed this time."

He threw a pointed glare at Batman.

"So I rigged that machine to administer the treatment should any attempt to remove the subject be made, and once it's begun there's no stopping it until treatment is completed."

Dick honestly had no clue what to say. Feeling helpless, he slowly withdrew his hands from his still unconscious friend and backed away a few steps.

Strange smiled pleasantly at his actions. "Good boy," he purred and Dick felt a sick thrill of joy at the words.

Batman was being rather quiet he noted, internally he longed for the days when the two of them didn't need to speak to know what the other was thinking. As it is, he glanced over at Batman as discreetly as he could.

To anyone else it would look like the Dark Knight had begrudgingly accepted his fate and was sitting calmly in his chair, but Dick could see how his right wrist was bent at a slightly different angle than his left as well as the small movements of his fingers.

Dick had to struggle not to let any of his relief show on his face. Bruce had everything under control, all Dick had to do was keep Strange's attention off of him long enough for him to pick the lock.

"So you've got me here, wherever this is, what's next?"

(Bruce's P.O.V)

In a less life threatening situation, Batman might've stopped to contemplate the irony that the man who was smart enough to fool him into thinking his son was a serial killer for two years was also stupid enough to forget to take his gloves.

The one-sided conversation between Dick and Strange faded into the background as he focused on not drawing attention to himself while he picks the cuffs.

Good job Dick. Keep him talking. Just a little bit more and...

There was a small "click" as the pressure around his wrists lessened enough for him to slip his right hand out.

Casting a quick glance at Strange to make sure he wasn't looking - Dick had thankfully walked as far away from Bruce as he could without arousing suspicion causing Strange to turn his back - he reached down and swiftly picked the lock on his ankles as well.

Making sure Strange was still enthralled with listening to himself talk, he silently rose from the chair and made his way to Wally. Bruce knew without a doubt the first thing Strange would do if he caught sight of his escape was kill Wally. So as much as he wanted to make sure Dick was safe, Wally was his first priority.

Wally hadn't regained consciousness since they'd arrived, but a quick check of his vitals didn't reveal any evident damage, well apart from the obvious being infused with the mind of a serial killer. Remembering Strange's warning Bruce took a moment to locate the power controls on the chair and swiftly turned them off. With the danger of setting off the machine removed, he safely unlocked Wally restraints without much difficulty, though he struggled a bit with the head strap, and moved Wally gently from the chair to the floor. He started to sink back into the shadows, skirting around the corners of the room until he found a staircase up to the catwalk where Strange was STILL talking.

Two years.

Two torturous years Dick had languished in Arkham, and Bruce had languished in his own personal form of prison.

Two years.

Two years of their lives they could never get back.

And it was all thanks to this man. This evil, evil man. It was almost difficult for Bruce to wrap his mind around how one person could bring about such suffering and get away with it.

'But he didn't,' he thought, 'he almost did, but I'm here now. Dick's not alone this time. I'm here now and I'll be damned if I let this madman hurt him one more time.'

Batman swept silently over the top step of the stairs, just in time it seemed as Strange appeared to be coming to the end of his gloating.

He had been concentrating on remaining undetected for Over Strange's shoulder Bruce could make out Dick's face, eyes wide with horror as he listened to the full story of his transformation from the villain's perspective.

"So... the voices, they weren't, I mean you were..." Dick stumbled over his words, even though Bruce had explained everything he knew about what had happened to him, Dick was still understandably shocked at hearing the whole story directly from the vermin responsible.

"That's right Richard, you're not insane, you never were." Strange's back was turned, he didn't notice the dark shadow now looming directly behind him.

Not this way. He'd been forced to see the sick victory in Strange's eyes when he thought he'd won, and he wanted to see those same eyes overcome with defeat when it all fell apart.

"It has been fun my dear Richard, but I'm afraid you've all outlived your usefulness." With that, he held up a detonator he must've hidden in his lap coat.

That was as far as he got.

Before Strange had a chance to do anything more, Bruce slammed into him from behind with all his strength, causing the rusty railing to give and sending both of them toppling over the edge.

They hit the ground, still tangled, with a great thud. Strange lost his grip on the detonator and it skittered off a little ways away and Batman took a hard elbow to the chin as they both scrambled blindly for it.

The usually collected hero and villain both seemed to lose it as they fought over the detonator. Both seeing red as they each reached for the tool that for one meant the death of their son, for the other the death of their labors. They had one thing in common though, neither one was willing to let the other one have it, and Bruce was coming dangerously close to crossing some lines to ensure that fact.

Unfortunately, one of Strange's flailing hands finally found purchase on one of Batman's ears. With surprising strength, the villain yanked the cowl hard enough to pull Bruce off of him, pulling the cowl off in the process.

If Bruce had been thinking clearly, he probably would've been concerned that his mask had just been removed so easily, he probably would've been calculating how many possible surveillance devices were in the building, and he defiantly would've been thinking of what adjustments Alfred will need to make to his cowl to prevent this in the future.

But he wasn't thinking clearly. He was too focused on the madman who, in the split second he was distracted, was now holding the detonator.

No.

No.

Something snapped inside Bruce's mind.

He didn't move, but he was on top of Strange.

He didn't open his mouth, but his voice was yelling.

He didn't attack Strange, but his fists were bloody.

And their was only one thought in his mind...

I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill this son of a bitch.

His fists continued to fly. He probably couldn't have stopped them even if he tried.

He didn't try.

He didn't want to.

He felt calm. Nothing like one would expect to feel while beating a man, a monster, to death.

He was calm.

He was beating someone to death.

And he was calm.

(Dick's P.O.V)

Dick was scared.

Plain and simple, he was scared.

He'd watched Bruce tackle Strange over the railing, watched the two struggle madly over the detonator, watched Strange yank off Batman's cowl, and now he was standing awkwardly over Wally waiting for his mentor to finish subduing Strange.

But Bruce wasn't stopping. Strange's face was practically unrecognizable, the floor underneath him was splattered with blood, but Bruce just kept on punching.

"B-Batman?" he called out tentatively, unsure of what he should call the man now that his face was exposed. He looked into his eyes, and it scared him.

Bruce almost never smiled, and his eyes naturally held a stoic, almost cold look to them. But this... this was more anger, more rage, more... hatred than he'd ever seen.

"Batman?" he tried again with a bit more volume. He was getting worried, Bruce was still reigning down blows, and he showed no signs of stopping. Was he trying to-

He's trying to kill him! He realized in a panic.

"B-Batman! Batman! BRUCE!" he shouted, starting to run over to his mentor's side.

"Bruce! Bruce STOP!" He grabbed a gloved fist, trying desperately to hold it back.

Bruce jerked around to face him, his eyes filled with nothing but black fury and Dick had to suppress his initial instinct to flinch away.

"Bruce that's enough! You're gonna kill him!" Dick pleaded, shaking the man as he did.

But it seemed Bruce was too far gone, "No Dick," he growled, every word dripping with venom, "for what he did, he deserves to die."

He tried to pull back for another strike, but Dick held firm.

"Bruce listen to yourself, you're not thinking straight," Dick shook him again for emphasis.

But Bruce's eyes didn't lose their dark determination.

"Goddamn it Bruce you're Batman! You're better than this, stronger than this! Don't... don't kill him Bruce. It's- I'm not worth it." He finished quietly, having run out of air during his little speech. He hadn't even meant to say that last part. He'd meant to say "he's" not worth it but somehow the word got mangled in his desperation.

When he overcame the brief shock of his freudian slip he looked up to find Bruce staring at him, and he saw his own surprise reflected in Bruce's eyes.

"Bruce?" he asked softly, the large room feeling all too quiet after so much noise. "Bruce are you-"

He was cut off by the feeling of strong arms on his shoulders, the intensity in Bruce's eyes forcing him to hold eye contact.

"Richard," he began, his voice firm "don't ever say you're not worth it. You mean more to me than you could ever know."

Dick couldn't do much more than nod shakily at his mentor's rare display of emotion, but Bruce seemed to know all the unspoken emotion and gratitude within the gesture.

Looking down at the now barely recognizable face of Dr. Hugo Strange, Dick could feel the tension slowly seep out of his mentor's body. Any traces of his former rage were gone now, leaving only total exhaustion in its wake.

Fearing that Bruce would collapse if they stayed there much longer, Dick rose to his feet before offering a hand to his mentor.

"Come on Bruce, leave him to the police."

Although he could sense his unease at letting the madman out of his sight again, Bruce accepted his hand and wearily pulled himself to his feet as well.

On the way out Dick put in an anonymous call to Gordon about where to find Strange, as well as promising that Batman would be by soon to explain. While Dick was on the phone, Batman got the thankfully still unconscious Wally strapped into the passenger side of the Batmobile.

Once Wally was secured and they could hear police sirens approaching in the distance, Dick mounted his bike and followed the Batmobile back to the cave. Back home, he thought, and a light, free feeling rose in his chest.

Hope.

(Bruce's P.O.V)

Bruce had never felt so exhausted. Honestly, if Dick hadn't been there he probably would've just passed out in that warehouse.

Dick.

The boy was sitting in the med bay of the Batcave next to a resting Wally. Upon their return to the Batcave Bruce and Alfred had administered a stronger sedative to the sleeping redhead. With the help of what Strange told him, as well as the technology available in the cave the two were able to remove the chip from Wally's brain without much difficulty. Afterwards, Dick had assisted Alfred in bandaging Wally's head and ever since he'd refused to leave his friend's side despite both Bruce and Alfred's urges for him to rest.

Of course, under normal circumstances, today's fight wouldn't have drained him this much. But, Bruce had also just gotten off the phone with a positively enraged crimson-clad speedster who spent the last 24 hours fighting his way through intergalactic security to get back to Earth so he could "take care of his nephew and then personally fling Bruce into the speed force for hanging up on him like he did."

Needless to say between psychopaths, family members, and speedsters Bruce was ready to call it a day.

"WHERE IS HE?!" A scarlet blur yelled upon emerging from the elevator at the top of the stairs into the Batcave.

Make that very ready to call it a day.

"He's in the medical bay Flash, and please lower your voice," Bruce answered as he nodded to Alfred who had also come down, and was carrying a tray with three steaming mugs of coffee.

Bruce wasn't surprised when Barry didn't stop to say hello, and instead ran right to his nephew's side. Dick must've been really out of it because he jumped violently when the Flash appeared beside him. Bruce was too far away to hear their brief greeting but saw Dick rise and offer Barry the chair he had been in before coming over to Bruce and Alfred to get coffee.

"Thanks Alfred." He took one of the mugs, and enjoyed a long sip. "When's Leslie getting here?"

Bruce checked the time display on the computer. It was a little past 4 AM, about thirty minutes since he'd asked Alfred to call her.

"She just arrived at the gate. Shall I escort her down sir?" Alfred replied, turning to Bruce for confirmation.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, vainly trying to alleviate his headache for what felt like the hundredth time that night, "yes Alfred, thank you."

Alfred left with a nod and the cave was blissfully quiet for about three minutes until the butler returned with the aforementioned doctor carrying a large medical bag close behind.

"Bruce?" Leslie approached the exhausted father first only to be waved off.

"Thank you for coming Leslie, the boys are over there," he said indicating the huddled trio in the medical wing. "I'm fine really, just a slight headache," he added when she continued to stare at him with a disbelieving expression.

After a slight pause Leslie fished out a small pill bottle out of her bag and walked over to where the two speedsters and Dick were situated.

"Take two of those, they won't make you drowsy and they're stronger than over the counter headache medication," she called over her shoulder as she went.

Bruce would've smiled if he didn't feel so awful, so instead he nodded gratefully as he washed the pills down with some of Alfred's coffee. He sighed happily when he felt the medication start to ease his pounding skull almost immediately.

He stood up from his chair and took a moment to stretch his protesting back before walking over to join everyone else around Wally's bed.

(Dick's P.O.V)

Dick sensed more than heard Bruce come up behind him so he was prepared for the hand that appeared on his shoulder.

"How's he doing?" Bruce's deep voice rumbled from behind him.

"He's just starting to come around," Dick responded not taking his eyes off his friend while the doctor checked his vitals. Bruce had given the redhead a mild sedative when they reached the cave to keep him quiet until his uncle could arrive.

"Good. And what about you?"

Dick mentally sighed at the question. He was worried about his friend, concerned for both of their futures, and above all else tired. No make that exhausted, but not the kind he'd been expecting.

He remembered this feeling from back in his Robin days, from when he and Batman, or he and the team, would spend weeks or months fighting an unseen foe, thwarting scheme after scheme before finally realizing the big picture. Then spend even more time planning and preparing to take down the whole operation once and for all. He remembered it from after those final battles, it would set in during the aftermath; once everyone's wounds had been attended to and things were beginning to quiet down.

It was exhaustion, but not the kind that came with a sense of helplessness or failure. It was the kind that came with a sense of finality, of calm.

"Wally?"

Barry's voice cut through Dick's musings and Dick looked down to see the redhead starting to stir, slightly squeezing his uncle's hand from where it was intertwined with his own beside him.

Wally's face began to contort slightly from its restful position and he groaned softly before his eyelids began to raise to reveal a pair of familiar bright green eyes.

"Ugh wha- where? U-uncle Barry?"

"Shhh," Uncle Barry soothed taking the water bottle Dr. Thompkins handed him and opening it to hold to his nephew's lips. While Wally gratefully took long sips of the proffered drink Barry took the opportunity to brush the teen's unruly red hair off his forehead, minding the halo of bandages wrapped snuggly around his head.

"Mmm-" Wally turned his head away to signal that he was done with the water.

"Uncle Barry where are we? What's going on?" His eyes were rapidly losing their sleep-induced haze and a sharp urgency was taking over.

Uncle Barry looked from his nephew to Dick who moved forward into Wally's line of sight. Upon noticing them Wally seemed both comforted and agitated.

"Hey Wally" Dick said softly, unable to help the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"Dick?" A hopeful look lit up Wally's face, his disorientation at the situation momentarily forgotten at the sight of his best friend out of Arkham and seemingly free. "How are you doing? Did your dad finally pull his head out of his ass and realize how stupid-"

Wally cut off as Bruce chose that moment to come forward as well.

"Umm... heh uh" Wally's face slowly colored to rival his hair under the weight of Bruce's gaze and he shot a pleading look at his uncle for help.

"What's the last thing you remember Kid?" Barry interjected, glancing over his own shoulder at Bruce with his own glare that threatened 'leave my kid alone or else.' Bruce, having witnessed first hand the terrifying force that was an overprotective Flash, wisely chose to stifle his (somewhat-unintentional) bat-glare.

"I... um... I remember going to Arkham to visit Dick and his... doctor? I think? Yeah, he told me that Dick was in some important treatment and he had something he wanted to ask me about, or something to show me, or... or maybe he needed my help? I- I don't really remember anything after that," he admitted looking up at his uncle and the bats. "Why? What happened?"

Barry took his nephew's hand in his own once again before turning to Bruce beside him. Bruce averted his gaze as he too tried to come up with exactly how to break the news.

Slowly Dick worked his way out of Bruce's hold and moved around to the other side of Wally's bed, sitting carefully at the foot of it. He ran a hand through his raven hair as he took a deep breath and smiled at his friend.

"Well, it's a long story, and I'm honestly not sure if it really has a good ending- or an ending at all really- but don't worry," he took a moment to gauge his friend's reaction. Wally's face was a mixture of emotions but the most prominent of which was a nervous apprehension that manifested itself in his tight nod and hesitant "go on."

Dick swallowed, glancing at his adopted father for support and taking comfort in his encouraging nod before continuing.

"Okay, well what do you know about a man named Hugo Strange?"

Fin

There will be a very short epilogue coming soon! Please leave a review letting me know what you thought of the ending if you have time. Thank you to all those who left comments, those are the best motivation in the world. See you soon!