Sorry this took so long. It's nothing exciting-just the final chapter/epilogue of Vol. 2. School is time consuming. I feel bad, though. I might put up other stuff because I've neglected this for so long.

Anyway-enjoy, people

I don't really believe that Cobblepot's death was an accident. Neither does Bruce. But so far no questions have been asked, no charges pressed. His house proved to be full of drugs, illicit goods, and dirty money from all over. People are kind of horrified that he was supposed to be mayor, and are happy that he's gone. His things are being auctioned off, and the money is going to homeless shelters and soup kitchens around the city. Grange is mayor again, and the city is getting back on track.

I was thinking of approaching Tana about what actually happened, but I let it slide after Bruce had finally worked her gloves off and we saw the burns that had been left there. She went to Fox to get her own pair made—her own designs and handiwork, that only she could control. She's also getting her suit modified to better fit her name. "Spider", she wants to be called. I was surprised at how plain it was, how unimaginative. I mean, your hero name is kind of a big deal.

"I'm not a creative person," she said to Bruce and me, as we ate breakfast the morning after the ordeal. "I just think it fits."

And as per our previous arrangement, Tana and I are now sitting in the sky garden, staring up at the orange-lit clouds above us and the streets below. At first I'd been planning on taking her during the day, while it's open, when Bruce and I might visit. She'd scoffed at me, and said, "Where's the fun in that?"

The sky is dark, and the trees surrounding us glow with the buttery light from the buildings and streetlamps. Tana is sitting in a birch next to me, eyes closed, one leg dangling, letting a breeze rock the slender trunk. I'm lying on my stomach in a patch of lush grass, watching a bug crawl up a long stalk. But my favorite part is the smell of it, so much sweeter than the smell of smoke and blacktop. I roll onto my back and look up at Tana above. "Are you sure 'Spider' is the way to go?"

"Yeah. It's not pretentious, like the people who put 'Man' or 'Woman' after their names. But it's not something particularly creative or classy because that's for people who are cool and artsy and stuff like that. I'm not."

"And how does it 'fit'?"

"Spiders are good luck in many countries. And as Omen, I was exactly the opposite. But the thing about spiders is that so many people hate them. Some people know their worth, and others run at the sight of them. That's who I want to be." Her eyes are open now, the blue biotic one taking a moment to turn back to silver and white. "I don't want everyone to fear me. But I want my enemies to fear me. I want to be good luck to those who need it, and bad luck to those who deserve it." She pauses for a flicker of a moment before continuing. "And then there's this."

I catch the thing that she's just flung at me, and hold it up. It's hard to see in the dim light, but when I put it against the glowing clouds, I can see that it's some kind of clear stone, maybe amber. It's got a spider suspended in the middle of it, stuck in the attitude of rearing to attack. "Where'd you get this?"

"I think from my mom. It's the only thing she left with me besides my blankets."

"It's nice." I turn it over, looking at it for a couple more seconds, before tossing it back up to her. "It's Jackson's birthday in a few days. Are you going to get him anything?"

"Do I seem like a person who knows how to pick out birthday gifts?"

"Ah. Never been to a birthday party then?"

The look she throws me is irritated, but also exasperated, in more of an affectionate way than hostile. I smile. "Well, everybody's gotta start somewhere."

Epilogue

Barbara was the one to close the door, after Bruce, Dick, and Tana had left. Jackson was lying on the couch, comatose after too much cake. Barbara surveyed him as she unplugged the game system. "So, you happy now?"

"Yeah," he groaned.

"Tana's definitely growing on me, though I still wonder why Bruce feels the need to adopt so many kids."

"Not… married?"

"You know what I mean." Barbara poured herself another glass of soda and sat on Jackson's legs. He was too weak to protest. "They look so much like the Bat-team, it's not even funny."

"Disproven—hundreds of times, Barbara."

"Yeah. Can you imagine what it would be like, though, to be a part of that? To help the Batman, going around the city at night, taking out bad guys? It would make you feel like… such a part of something, to know that you've helped to save the city and everybody in it." Barbara drained her glass and stood up, taking a few experimental swings at nothing. "Do you think I'd have the chops to do it?"

"Bleargheararagh," said Jackson.

"Don't puke on the carpet, dude. Both our dads will get pissed, and this time, yours isn't a mile away like he usually is." Barbara jerked a thumb at the guest bedroom, where Alfred was spending the night. "But really, do you think I could help Batman?" Without waiting for an answer, Barbara continued. "There's something else. Did you notice anything weird about Tana's right eye?"

"No…"

"I could've sworn that she had a speck of blue in her iris, last time. Nothing really noticeable, but I know I saw it. Maybe she didn't even know she had it, she's not the type for looking in the mirror. It wasn't there today. It was perfectly grey."

"Trick… of light?"

"I'm trusting my photographic memory, Jackson. It was there, and now it's not." Taking the soda into the kitchen to put it in the fridge, she kept talking, calling into the living room behind her. "It's like she… hmm…" Barbara was hit with an idea. Not completely solid, but worth looking into. "Hey, Jackson—"

When she walked back in, he was snoring, and she shook her head before covering him with a blanket. "Bruce Wayne is the Batman," she said softly, ruffling her friend's hair. "And I'm going to prove it to you."