Narration: …until he bursts into tears.

Jim: Barbara…I thought I’d lost you, too…your mother…

Robin: I know, Dad…it’s over…

Jim: Mrs. Gregory?

Robin: The witch is dead.

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Narration: Enough.

Robin tackles the Joker over the pier.

Jim: BARBARA!

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Robin slams the Joker throw the window onto the pier.

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Robin throws a batarang through the fire.

Robin: Hold on, Bruce…

Narration: For a brief moment, Barbara feels the presence of the man who wore this costume - Richard Graustark…Dick Grayson…Robin.

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Robin stands in a shattered window, holding a smoking weapon.

Narration: The fire races through the warehouse, devouring the ancient wood like a starving dog -

Joker: You’ll rot in hell for this!

Robin: Just as long as we share a room!

Narration: The flames surround Bruce on his impromptu pyre - from excruciating cold to lethal heat in a matter of minutes.

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A close-up of Robin’s face, grim and determined.

Robin: Payback.

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Alfred: Miss Barbara - ye Gods!

Barbara is dressed as Robin.

Robin: Don’t start, Alfred - I’m a big girl.

Alfred: But Miss Barbara -

Robin: Do I sound like I’m kidding here?

Alfred: No -

Robin: Then get the hell out of my way before I kill you, too.

Narration: “Kill you, too…” For the first time in his thirty odd years in the United States…he began to question ever leaving England.

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Narration: But the question remains…

Barbara walks through the manor in a black sports bra and pants, holding a pair of scissors.

Narration: …does his daughter…

Barbara stops in front of a mirror, and begins cutting her hair.

Barbara: No one else dies for me -

Narration: …know herself?

Barbara, her hair now cut in Dick’s style, holds up Robin’s jacket.

Barbara: No one.

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Bruce: You’re up early.

Alfred: No…I haven’t been to bed yet either.

He and Barbara are in the kitchen. Barbara is sitting at the table.

Alfred: I’ve been trying to get her to eat something, Master Bruce.

Barbara: And I keep telling him he’s not my mother and I’m not hungry.

Bruce: Come on, Barbara -

Bruce puts his arms around her.

Bruce:  - you’re among friends here…there’s no reason to bring the war home.

Barbara: Is that so…?

She steps away from them.

Barbara: Well, from now on the war’s over for me.

Bruce: What’s that supposed to mean?

Barbara: It means I’m hanging up my costume until I get past whatever’s eating its way out of my brain. You can go on as Batman - but I need you to move out of here.

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Barbara recognises the mayor’s wife as Bianca, and Jim has to hold her back from striking her.

Jim: Barbara - please!

Barbara: Psychotic murdering bitch!

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