Author's Note: This is it folks...last chapter!

Chapter Sixteen: The Space Between

He knew he was shying away from Amy which was why he made sure she was asleep whenever he looked in on her. Alfred had already spoken his concerns, saying that Amy wanted to see him, needed to see him. But no, Bruce found it easier to hide behind Batman's duties and his grief over Rachel's loss. So as was his custom now, he opened the door to Amy's room around two o'clock in the morning and planned to sit there for an hour or so before getting some sleep himself.

"Hey."

He jumped at the sound of her voice, startled she was awake. Not the mention the oxygen mask gave her the same rasp her brother had behind the scarecrow mask. "You're up."

Her blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "You don't sound happy about that."

He fell into the chair next to her bed. "No, actually, uh-"

"It's okay. I figured your visits were always planned around my sleeping so you didn't have to talk. I'll let you off the hook if you want to go to bed." Her eyes crinkled at the corners. "You showed up when I was awake, requirement met."

He couldn't help but give her a weary smile. "How are you feeling?"

Her eyes seemed to dim slightly, like she was trying to convince herself she was fine but eventually gave up. "Lousy." She laughed shortly, having it come out as a buzzed static. "You're the first person that I've been that honest with. Alfred said you're not doing too well either."

Bruce didn't say anything. In truth, the first few days he was dealing with Rachel's death, he found he couldn't stand the sight of Amy, that he actually hated her for living. But time started the healing process once more and his compassion towards the sane Crane sibling returned. "I'm alright."

Amy held out her arm towards him, the one that had an IV connected to it with a painkiller to help with her breathing. "What some IV?"

"No, I'm good." It got a laugh out of him and he realized it had been a long time since he had done that. It felt good.

"Sorry," Amy said. "Jon said I've been interesting on pain killers. Apparently I've been asking interesting questions."

"Alfred's told me a couple of them." He grinned. "His particular favorite was when you asked him if the word 'peaches' tasted fuzzy to him too."

Amy's eyes rolled to the ceiling. "Jon didn't tell me about that one. He told me about the day when I was associating words with colors. Apparently, family is blue and Batman is red."

"Red? Not black?"

Amy raised her hands in an "I don't know" gesture and they both laughed. It really had been way too long since he had genuinely laughed and the dark mood that surrounded him started to lift. He had realized that it was all about to go downhill from there, he would have kept laughing with her.

Lynnlee knew it was unfair and wrong but she did it anyway. She came in the back of Wayne Manor, packed her clothes, took her violin and left again. She didn't trust herself to say good bye to anyone, most of all Jon. He was too aware, almost super aware when it came to her and she didn't want him to know that she was pregnant. She knew he would insist on taking care of her properly, marriage, home, everything. But she couldn't get that image of the far away look in his eyes whenever that alter ego, Scarecrow, showed up. What would happen to her and their child when Scarecrow decided to make an appearance?

Guilt pulled at her from every side. He had never treated her harshly or became physically rough with her, but she had seen news footage, heard stories of what he had been like under the rule of that personality. So many accounts from those who worked at Arkham that had given interviews after the gassing of the Narrows had claimed that Dr. Crane would have been the last person they would have thought would be responsible. He was good at hiding that terrible streak that ran through him. She thought she could be the one to save him from that but now with an innocent, defenseless child entering the picture, she just couldn't risk it.

She didn't want to put Amy in a difficult spot either. Amy would most likely put two and two together but Lynnlee hoped that she would keep this to herself. She had a feeling that if Jon did find out, he wouldn't hesitate to look for her. The fear of who would find her, Scarecrow or Jon, plagued her mind and would most likely have her spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.

She hocked her violin, getting enough money to get into Canada and find a small apartment. She would have to call her parents and soon. Uncle Al might have already alerted them to her disappearance and she didn't want to cause any of them unnecessary worry. She briefly wondered if her uncle would tell her parents about Jon and the possible reason for her leaving. Well, that was a bridge she would cross when she had to. Right now, she needed to concentrate on crossing the border and disappearing.

Any hope that Amy had of having her brother's return to her was lost completely when Lynnlee left. The first night, all he did was pace. The second, he sat stoned faced at the window. The third, he retreated completely. Amy was still bed bound with oxygen mask and IV painkillers and fluids but she doubted he would talk to her. It was sadly for the best as he would want an explanation and even though Lynnlee never confirmed her pregnancy with Amy, she was certain that was behind the flight. It didn't come as complete shock when Alfred came into her room on the six day, saying that Jon was gone too.

Amy begged Bruce to go look for him, drag him back to Arkham if necessary but Batman had other problems on his hands at the moment. The police were still hunting him for the death of their fellow officers and Harvey Dent but he did promise to look for Jon when he could. The day the IVs were unhooked and the oxygen mask removed, Bruce came into the room and turned the TV on for her. Jonathan Crane had been found bound and propped up against the front gate of Arkham.

She kept a calendar that no one knew about, even Bruce. She counted down nine months, trying to silently follow Lynnlee's pregnancy. On the possible due date of her niece or nephew, Amy left Wayne Manor and went back to California. It had to be the most difficult thing she ever had done. Not only was she leaving friends and yes, a man she had come to love, but she was also admitting defeat when it came to her brother.

"Are you sure about this?" Bruce had asked her over the breakfast table that morning. She didn't answer so he continued. "Just stay for a few months more, see what comes of it."

It was such a tempting offer and she needed to remind herself why she was leaving. "They say there's a thin line between insanity and genius. I used to think that my brother resided in that space between, right on the line, where he had surpassed genius but never reached insanity." She shook her head. "But that wasn't true."

"I don't think anyone can survive on that line. You're either on one side or the other."

"You do it," she stated simple. "That is where Batman exists. That is where he lives, breathes and fights. That is why he is and always will be Gotham's hero. Because he can exist in that space between."

And those had been the final words spoken between them before Amy climbed into the back of the town car that took her to the airport. Alfred didn't say anything but he had made his thoughts known the day before. He didn't want her to leave either. She had replaced the void Lynnlee had left with her abrupt departure. Before she walked into the airport, she handed him a card with all her contact information on it and then she was gone.

When she reached California, she tried to shake the dust of Gotham from her feet but she couldn't. Too much had happened, things that left scars and happy memories. She had lost her brother to his own notions but she had gained friends. Bruce emailed her at least every other day and called once week. Alfred called as well, mostly to see if she had heard anything from Lynnlee, which she hadn't.

Her best friend Lina seemed to take special interest in her once she returned. Lina was the only one that Amy told the whole story to of what happened in Gotham. Well, not the whole story, she kept Bruce's identity as Batman to herself. It felt relieving having someone else bear the burden of her brother's insanity and a lost niece or nephew that she would never know.

It took a while, but Amy's life pre-Gotham came slowly back. The only disturbances to it were the random news announcements that Jon had broken out of Arkham, would cause chaos for a while before ending up back in the institution again. She had to give Jon props for finding so many ways out of the gothic fortress and Bruce credit for his never ending patience with putting Jon right back in there once more. But as time wore time, the shock of it all wore off and it was just another flashy media story that Amy turned off before going to spend time with whatever child the court had appointed her to assess for the day.

Three Years Later…

Bruce's cell phone rang, startling him awake. He was sitting in the back of the town car, on his way home from Wayne Enterprises and he had fallen asleep, which was no surprise. He pulled out the incessantly ringing phone and pressed the call button.

"Bruce."

"Hey, Bruce. It's Amy."

"Amy," he grinned widely despite the wispy, breathless sound to her voice. Her lungs never recovered fully from the drug inhalation. "I didn't think you would call until this weekend?"

"Something's come up." She sounded odd, like she had been crying. "I need to see you and Alfred."

"Sure. When would you like to come?"

"I'm already in Gotham, actually. Whenever you have a chance."

Warning bells went off in his mind. "Alfred and I are on our way home right now. You can come straight there then."

"Alright. I'll see you soon then."

"Okay." Bruce hit the end button and frowned at the phone.

"Problem, Master Bruce?"

"I don't know. She didn't say."

They rode in silence the rest of the way and when Wayne Manor came into view, there was a car parked near the front door already. Alfred parked next to the unknown vehicle and they got out of the car. Amy was fiddling with something but when she saw them, she stumbled out of the car and Bruce felt like someone had bum rushed him. Amy's thick black hair was cut almost down to a buzz cut, dark circles ringed her blue eyes and she looked like she hadn't eaten for months. But that wasn't the worst of it…she wasn't smiling. In fact, large tears were rolling down her emaciated face.

"What's happened?" Bruce asked.

Amy worried her bottom lip before looking at Alfred. "I'm sorry."

"Lynnlee?" Alfred responded shortly and Amy slowly nodded.

"She, uh," Amy coughed to get her voice back and Bruce picked up an audible wheeze when she did so. "She had me listed as next of kin. She, uh, died in a car accident four months ago."

Bruce watched Alfred's face tense, fighting for control. "I see."

"There's something else," Amy said, reaching into the back seat of her car. When she straightened up again, she had a child, about three years old, in her arms and suddenly he knew why Lynnlee left the way she did. The child was unmistakably Crane's with his messy black hair and startling blue eyes. "I would like you to met Richard Grayson."

Bruce felt some of his shock lift when the three year old reached out to Alfred and eagerly settled into the older man's arms. Then, as if sensing the heavy mood, he shoved a toy fire engine in Alfred's face, proudly exclaiming what it was and eliciting a chuckle out of the butler as well as Bruce and Amy.

Bruce offered her a place to stay and she accepted it without hesitation. Alfred excused himself to get dinner started and walked off with Richard in his arms. Bruce helped Amy carry in her duffle bag and all the baby paraphernalia that apparently came with traveling with a three year old. They ate a relatively quiet dinner in the kitchen and when Alfred left to put the baby to sleep did Bruce start hammering Amy with questions.

"You knew about the baby, didn't you?"

Amy looked so tired, worn out beyond all human limitation. "I knew she thought she was pregnant. The day she left she was to find out for certain. I never heard from her again. Just about a month ago I received a call from a foster home in Montreal. Lynnlee listed me as next of kin because I was the only one who knew she may have been pregnant."

"Does your brother know?"

Amy shook her head. "No. And I don't intend to tell him. What's he up to now?"

Bruce dropped his napkin onto the table. "Last I heard, he broke out of Arkham with the Joker."

Amy sank back against her chair and shook her head.

"You went above and beyond the call of duty trying to reach him."

"It wasn't enough, Bruce."

"It never will be. He made his own decisions. Now, what's going on with you? You look terrible."

Amy sat up a little straighter. "I need you to take care of Richard. I can't do it."

"Why not?"

"I can't offer him the resources you can, Bruce. You have the money and connections to properly educate him and give him opportunities that Jon and I never had. Richard's brilliant. He has Jon's mind but Lynnlee's personality. He's a great kid and I wish I could take care of him."

"But?"

Amy sighed tiredly. "I have stage four lung cancer from the drug damage. I have weeks, if that."

An unfamiliar rise of anger filled his chest. "Why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"What for? So you could pour more money into treatment for me only to have it fail in the end? No, I'm done fighting now."

"So that's it? You drop off your nephew to your millionaire friend and drop dead?"

Finally, a spark lit up in her dull eyes. "Looks that way. What do you want me to do, Bruce? If I take Richard and die, the poor kid is going to be kicked around from foster home to foster home. Just like Jon and I were. I refuse to put him through that. But I'm too tired to fight anymore. I've spent my entire life fighting. Fighting to stay alive when murderers broke into my home when I was a child, fighting to keep my head above water when each foster home we went to was worse than the one before it. I've woken up staring down the barrel of a shot gun, taken care of children who were just a couple years younger than myself at the time and fought off just about every foster father that wanted something more from me. I'm tired, Bruce. I'm ready."

He didn't want to admit it but he did agree with her. She had lived more in her life than most live in eighty years. Who was he to force medical treatment on her to keep her alive just because he didn't want to say good bye. "Fine," he relented. "I'll take Richard."

"Good." She nodded once and stood up. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go to bed now."

"Same room as before, if that's alright."

"Thank you," she responded, and quickly leaned down, giving him a peck on a cheek before she was gone.

"Master Bruce?"

Bruce tried to bury his head under the pillow. "Is it three already, Alfred?"

"No sir, I'm afraid not."

Bruce pulled himself out from underneath the covers and found the sun hadn't even risen yet. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty in the morning." Alfred paused. "I'm afraid it's Amy, sir."

Bruce sat up in the bed and swung his legs over the side. He felt tears stinging the back of his eyes. "Where is she?"

"In her bedroom."

Call it morbid curiosity or closure, Bruce found himself make his way down the hall and through the closed door. Amy was still in the bed, looking much as she had when she was recovering from the lung damage those years ago. Bruce sat down on the side of the bed, and picked up her hand, closing the ice cold fingers between his warm palms. He realized too late, once again, that he had loved her. Amy Crane, another casualty of Gotham's criminal underground.

"Did Aunt Amy go bye-bye?"

Bruce looked down to see Richard standing there, looking up at him with wide blue eyes…Jonathan's eyes. No, Amy's eyes. Bruce reached down and picked up the child, settling him on his leg.

"Yeah, Aunt Amy went away." He realized what it must have taken her, the self will and determination, to be able to make the trip from Montreal to Gotham with a three year old in tow. "She loved you very much, Richard."

He was still holding Richard when the coroner's office came and wrapped Amy's body up in the white sheet. As the gurney passed through the entrance way and out the door, Richard waved at it.

"Bye-bye, Aunt Amy."

Bruce found himself doing the same thing. "Bye, Amy."

It was completely by accident that he found out she had died. Of all people, it was the Joker, that not so insane clown of a character, that made the callous announcement.

"So sorry to hear about your sis, Doc."

He hadn't even realized she had been sick but wasn't surprised when he found out it was lung cancer. He ultimately had killed his sister. He drove Lynnlee away to god knows where and now Amy was gone permanently. He swiped newspapers, searching for her obituary, and found out when the funeral was. Thanks once again to Bruce Wayne, Amy's funeral was well done though small. He didn't dare step into the church for the service. With everything that he had done in his life he was certain God would strike him dead as soon as he passed over the threshold. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad fate.

He watched the burial from behind a tree. She was buried next to their mother, which was appropriate. He saw Wayne standing next to the gaping hole with Amy's best friend from California, Lina, actually Selina Kyle was her real name, next to him. But the shocking thing was seeing the child in Bruce's arms. That was the thing that hurt the most. The child was the only one who seemed to take notice of Jonathan's presence. He couldn't have been more than three years old. He knew Amy had loved Bruce but he hadn't known it had gone that far. And yet, there was Wayne holding the proof…Jonathan's own blue eyed nephew that looked so much like Amy it hurt to look at him.

"I hate funerals."

Jonathan turned bleary eyes to the man next to him. Joker had removed all the makeup from his face and the green dye had been washed from his light brown hair. The scars were still there on his face though. "I hate them too."

"That your kid?"

Jonathan shook his head. "No. My sister's."

"Hm. Well, this is really bringing me down. Come on, doc," Joker grabbed a hold of him and tugged him away from the funeral. "Let's go rob a bank, would that make you feel better? I'll even let you gas the guards, how's that?" The Joker let out a high pitched giggle. "You'll feel better after you have a few people screaming."

Jonathan yanked the burlap sack out of his suit pocket. It was his only friend now. Without Amy, he was no longer Jonathan Crane. He was only Scarecrow. He slipped the rough material over head and settled the re-breather over his mouth and nose.

I told you, you would be back, Jonny. Welcome back.

Well, it's been a fun and wild ride! I just want to say a huge thank you to all of my readers and reviewers! You guys are the reason this is finished! Thank you for your support, encouragement and time! *internet hugs all around*