The Gotham City Police Department slapped handcuffs on Irish gangster Joel Ryan, six accomplices, a too-familiar gigantic hitman, and a teenage boy that night. Each one of the lower ranking thieves hissed insults and anger toward the young man that had betrayed them, but all were rebutted by Joel Ryan's snaps of, "Shut your mouths, that's still my son you're talking about!"

"I—I don't know if you keep an antidote or anything," the young George Ryan said as officer Renee Montoya led him toward one of the police cruisers. "But the girl—she's my cousin—she was given whatever that stuff is Bane takes. She might still be poisoned."

"An ambulance is on the way," Montoya said. "I'd worry about yourself right now, if I were you."

Inside the cathedral, an exhausted but recovering Cassandra laid in one of the pews as Commissioner Gordon went over the details with Monsignor Ryan. When the priest noted Batman had just disappeared, Gordon grunted and remarked that sometimes happened.

"Three vans worth of gold and old artifacts out back, a fourth one was empty. Do you know if that should be everything stolen from you?"

"I wouldn't know for sure," Monsignor Ryan said. "I was kept locked in my office during the robbery. If the ringleader wasn't my brother, I believe they may have disposed of me altogether."

Commissioner Gordon nodded. "Do you have an itemized list?"

"Someone from the diocese does, I'm sure the bishop will send them here soon," the priest said. "Thank you for all of your help tonight, sir."

From the looks of things, you should thank Batman, if you encounter him again." The commissioner handed over a card. "We'll be in touch for more details, try to get a good night sleep and enjoy the holiday."

"I'll be joining my niece to the hospital as soon as I can, but thank you."

Gordon nodded and knelt for a moment to pet the head of little Snowball at his side before he headed out. Monsignor Ryan stepped into his office to grab his coat hanging on the back of his chair. As he did so, the door slammed shut behind him. The priest jumped and turned. Batman, still exhausted but imposing as ever, stood opposite him.

"I'm—I'm sorry. Sorry that I look scared," he said. "You've done much good for us tonight, I—I just wasn't expecting you, and—"

"I was here a few nights ago," Batman said. "The girl showed me the underground room."

"… Oh?" Monsignor Ryan's voice was sheepish.

"I asked her if she knew how those criminals knew the treasure was underneath the church. She didn't react with any self-assurance, as if she knew something she wasn't telling me. And from what I've now overheard, the leader of the operation is your brother." The dark knight stood up straight, towered over the priest, and approached him as if sizing him up. "If you want me to believe all of that was a coincidence, you're going to need a lot more confidence than she had."

The priest hesitated as he looked upon the mighty figure before him. A few lies crossed his mind in rapid fire. But he chose not to use any of them. "… They are just things down there, Batman."

"What are you talking about?"

"The bishop and the Vatican can insist that they are something more. The hairs and fingers of saints must be preserved and made precious. For some reason it is our duty to protect chalices made of gold and diamonds," he scoffed. "As if Christ said, 'This is my blood,' in a cup worth thousands of dollars." His timidness faded away as he looked Batman in his eyes. "How many stomachs could we fill, with these—these so-called treasures? How many more people could we save if we just dropped this needless decorum?"

Batman's glare softened. Of all the responses he'd anticipated, he wasn't prepared for that one.

"I'd have done anything to sell off everything in that basement to the highest bidder legitimately, but the church would never hear of it. My brother gave me a connection to organized crime, and the counter from the diocese only makes rare appearances. I intended to sell off small treasures little by little and disseminate the money to worthy causes when I was able. I don't expect you to understand, but I'm just a man trying to do whatever I can." Father Ryan let out a long exhale. "Cassandra offered to help me, but I was the one who accepted that help. She is so powerful but—" he shook his head. "The poor girl is still just a child. She just wanted to put that horrible power of hers to some worthy cause. Whatever you intend to do to me, I suppose will be what I deserve."

The two men stood in silence for what seemed like forever. At last, Batman said, "Is there anyone else who knows about the underground room?"

"It won't matter, the bishop will surely insist the treasures be moved to a different location. One that hasn't been compromised."

"Then I see no reason to pursue this," Batman said. "You made some very foolish deals, monsignor, but I do think you were onto something good." He stepped away from the door. "Go, be with your niece."