A/N: IT'S HERE! SOUND THE TRUMPETS BANG THE DRUMS THE LONG OVERDUE SEQUEL TO "A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS" IS FINALLY HERE! Ok, now that we've got that out of the way, I want to tell you how things are going to work. The vigilantes currently at play in Gotham are Black Canary (Dinah Lance), Flamebird (Bette Kane), Huntress (Helena Bertinelli), Batgirl (Jenna Dawes (my OC) and occasionally Barbara Gordon (who only fills in for Jenna due to not having finished her training or high school), and Batman (reborn as Robin John Blake).

Also, there are a few recastings of characters: I originally had Britt Robertson as Bette Kane and Kaya Scodelario as Helena Bertinelli, but I've decided to change the actors. Amanda Seyfried will now portray Bette Kane, Mila Kunis will be Helena Bertinelli, Emma Stone will be Barbara Gordon, and Evan Rachel Wood will be Dinah Lance. There will be plenty of new characters and some characters who were introduced in "A Series of Unfortunate Events".

A word of warning, if you have not read "A Series of Unfortunate Events," I'll try to fill in the blanks, but it might make it easier to understand if you read it. There are going to be around thirty chapters in this story, give or take a few, including 7 chapters that are going to take place in between the first and second chapters of the trilogy. Those seven chapters are going to feature several villains in Batman's Rogues Gallery that were not in the movies and I could not fit into the trilogy, but I wanted to try my hand at Nolanizing them. Anyway, sit back, relax, enjoy the story, and please fell free to follow, favorite, and/or review!

Batman Reborn

"I win again," a man with black hair in his thirties declared as he collected up the fake money from his son, who was grinning broadly in spite of his defeat.

"You're really good at this dad!" the boy exclaimed and his father's smile faltered ever so slightly.

"In games sure. I don't have much talent with these things in real life I'm afraid," the man admitted. He looked at the game and shook his head. "Hey, do you think we could watch a movie now?" The boy smiled.

"Sure! I'll get the popcorn ready." The kid shot off like a rocket and soon the sounds and smells of buttered popcorn popping filled the small apartment. However, a loud knocking interrupted the duo's entertainment.

"Blake! Open up!" a gruff voice shouted and the father stiffened.

"Robin, go hide," he murmured to his son.

"Dad–"

"Now!" Blake ordered and his son, reluctantly, got into the kitchen cabinet, peeking at his father through the crack. The door suddenly burst open and several men with guns entered and surrounded the older man.

"Where's our money Blake?" the leader asked. He was a rather large man, with thin black hair that was somewhat receding.

"Look, Zucco, I'll get it to you, I just need a little more–"

"Time? We already gave you time and lots of it," Zucco stated, cocking his gun and aiming it at the man.

"Please, guys, we can work out deal, can't we just ta–" BANG! The little boy hiding in the cupboard jumped as the sharp crack of a gunshot echoed throughout the apartment, the noise of a body falling to the ground coming right after. The men quickly shuffled out of the apartment, blood now spreading over the white tile floor of the kitchen, while a boy named Robin trembled in the darkness, innocence lost.

Decades later, an adult Robin John Blake's opened his eyes, waking up from the memory he would never forget. He got out of the bed and made his way to the kitchen for coffee, knowing he wouldn't be sleeping again tonight. While he set about getting his morning energy, a voice interrupted his work.

"Bad dream?" the voice inquired and John Blake turned to see Jenna Dawes leaning in the doorway, in a black nightgown.

"No. Memory," John said and Jenna nodded in understanding.

"One of the main reasons I never sleep." John chuckled as Jenna moved into the kitchen.

"That and you're a vigilante by night, an assistant DA by day, and a girlfriend in between," he pointed out. Jenna smiled.

"That too," she admitted and kissed him on the lips. It had been eighteen months since their kiss in the Batcave and since then, they'd trained, fought (side by side and with each other), made up, and (since one month ago) lived together.

"What time is it?" John asked when they broke the kiss. Jenna checked her watch.

"6:48."

"Ugh," John groaned. "Why can't we sleep in on Saturday mornings like normal people?" Jenna chuckled.

"John, we're many things but normal… we act normal and we were normal as children. But other than that, it's a cover. And when you think about it normality itself is somewhat of an illusion." John gave her a look.

"Can't we leave the philosophy for after I've had my coffee?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

Two elevator doors opened and John and Jenna entered their private basement training facility, dressed in black training jumpsuits. "Where are they? They should've been here by now," John asked himself as he walked into the darkened basement. Jenna didn't reply, but followed him, noticing that some of the armor cases were raised from the floor. Drawing her kendo sword from her belt, Jenna blocked an attack from behind just as someone clad in black swung their own stick.

"Nice try Bette," Jenna told her attacker.

"Damn it!" the assailant cried and relaxed her stance, removing her cowl to reveal bird like blue eyes and blonde hair. "How do you do that?"

"I'm Batgirl remember, sneaking up on me might as well be equivalent to attempted suicide. Oh, and that goes for you guys too!" Jenna called out into the shadows and three more young women emerged from the shadows, taking off their cowls to reveal one blonde, one ginger, and a brunette. Jenna nodded. "Alright. Now that we're all here, are you all ready to begin?"

"Are you?" Dinah Lance challenged and Jenna smiled.

Jenna's first session teaching all the people gathered had nerve racking for her to say the least. Sure, she'd faced Scarecrow, the Joker, and Bane, but these people were her allies and while she was the one leading them, she wanted to make sure they understood what she had to do because of her authority, and what they would have to give to be a part of this. Because of this, she found herself standing in front of her allies and partners, dressed in all black, waiting for her to speak.

"You have all chosen to become what you are for different reasons. Some for justice." Jenna glanced at John. "Some for self fulfillment." Her gaze moved to Barbara, Bette, and Dinah. "And some to prevent others from feeling the pain you once felt." She stared for a moment at Helena. "But whatever your reasons, you have come to me for help, guidance, and training; All of which I can provide you… but for a cost. If you are to defend Gotham City, you cannot do it half-heartedly. You must give yourself to Gotham City entirely: body, mind, and soul. If you are to fight the innumerable masses, then you must become unstoppable, which means that no amount of torture, pain, or sorrow will ever break you. If you do not believe you can handle this, leave now and no one will think any less of you. But know this: stay and there is no turning back. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good."

And so she began instruction. Minding surroundings, deception and theatricality, taking on enemies that numbered far greater than your own, invisibility through patience and agility, balance, weapons, distractions, control of emotions, everything that Ra's al Ghul had taught the original Batman, who had in turn taught Jenna, though Jenna used altered methods in order to make death a less likely possibility, often substituting thin ice for rotting floor boards of Gotham's abandoned buildings. And Jenna couldn't help but think that she must be doing something right, because they'd all improved drastically since they'd begun, herself included. Which led to Jenna currently observing Dinah and Helena fighting on the mats, biting her lip as she made notes. She's a lot like me when I was younger, she remembered. When I was younger and didn't know how to control my anger. She frowned.

"Helena, you're wasting too much energy. At this rate Dinah will wear you out before you knock her down." Helena nodded and waited for Dinah to make her move. The blonde girl lunged, and Helena sidestepped, causing Black Canary to almost tumble over. "You're telegraphing Dinah. You have to center yourself." They both turned on her at that, incredulous.

"Who's side are you on?" they cried.

"Neither. I'm helping you both," she stated, but sighed and turned to watch Barbara and Bette practice with dummies when Dinah and Helena responded with glares they usually reserved for criminals. The blue-eyed blonde athlete was currently pummeling a punching bag, as Jenna moved toward her to give suggestions. "Bette, you need to use more than your kick boxing. The more forms you know, the better off you'll be," she advised. Bette nodded and went back to her practice. Jenna turned to watch Barbara who was currently practicing dodging shots in the closed off area using remote controlled guns that shot rubber bullets. The energetic red head punched and kicked and dodged the nearby guns and threw batarangs at the ones just out of reach. She straightened up once she'd stopped the last gun, looking at her surrogate sister expectantly as she checked the timer. "Three minutes and forty three seconds. Not bad." Barbara smiled. "For a dead girl." The smile slipped off.

"But I was quicker this time!" she exclaimed.

"Yes. You were. But dead is dead, whether in training or reality," Jenna pointed out. She reset the controls. "Again." Barbara slouched over to the starting point, sticking her tongue out at Jenna once the brunette's back was turned. The leader of the vigilantes took notice but did not respond, and instead looked toward the one who had improved the most out of anyone. John Blake was currently demolishing six different dummies at once, combining his fists, kicks, and batarangs to knock all of them down. Jenna nodded as the last dummy hit the floor at her feet.

"John, your execution needs more finesse. Brute force will only get you so far." John slumped and shook his head.

"Was the Batman this hard on you?" he panted.

"Oh no, he was much, much worse. Then again, compared to who trained him, he was teaching preschool," she said. The computer beeped and Jenna went over to check what it was. The others soon followed.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Bette inquired, surveying the map of Gotham on Jenna's computer screen, covered in pinpoints.

"People have been going missing over the past week, and were found either died of heart failure or raving mad in the streets. Crane's the prime suspect."

"How do you know?" Helena questioned.

"It matches his MO. Plus I took blood samples from the ones still living and the chemical found in their blood is similar to his fear toxin."

"Similar, why not identical?" Dinah

"He's probably improved it by now. He has been working on it for over a decade," Jenna pointed out, motioning to the analysis of the toxin he used ten years ago to the new compound found in the victim's blood.

"Point taken. So what's the plan?" John asked. Jenna grinned.

"You'll see."

A man with a mustache and a single scar running down the side of his face stood on a street corner, lighting up a cigarette. He was a typical, average Joe. Nobody important. So imagine his surprise when a white van pulled up in front of him and a man with a gun grabbed him and pulled him inside.

"Hey, hey, what the hell are ya–" he shouted but was cut off by a cloud of gas in his face. He immediately started coughing, before sliding into unconsciousness.

"Done," the goon in the back said, pulling a gasmask away form his face. The man in front nodded.

"Back to the boss then," he stated and turned the car toward the Narrows.

The man who had picked up earlier was unceremoniously thrown into a cell in the ruins of old Arkham Asylum. He got up and tried to get through the door but it was closed on him before he could make it out. "Please Doctor Crane, you don't have to do this!" he shouted through the metal. A man in a ragged suit and burlap mask moved toward the door.

"The good doctor's not here right now. You'll have to deal with scarecrow today," he said before pressing button outside the door. The room flooded with gas, and the man inside began coughing, before screaming and thrashing in fear.

"AH! AH! THEY'RE ALL OVER ME! GET 'EM OFF! AH!"

"Fear of small creatures of some sort. Most likely bugs or arachnids," Scarecrow took notice.

"AH! WHERE ARE THEY COMIN' FROM? WHERE'S THE WEB?"

"Arachnophobia." Scarecrow sighed to himself. "Note to self: attempt to search more interesting patients with more intriguing and creative phobias for further study." He went over to the next cell and looked in on a man who looked like he was turning blue from lack of oxygen. "Mr. Winters. What's wrong? What do you see?" Scarecrow inquired.

"CAN'T BREATHE, CAN'T SWIM, CAN'T GET OUT!"

"Ah yes. Hydrophobia," he commented, looking through his notes. "I guess considering your sister drowned as a girl, you would be afraid of the water." He moved toward the next cell but was interrupted by the lights going off.

"Sir, the power's out," a thug said, clambering downstairs.

"I'm aware. Go check the breaker." The thug nodded and headed off, Crane checking his weaponized gas emitter. "Looks as though the Bats or the Birds are here. They're early for their appointment but no matter. I'm sure I can squeeze them in." The Scarecrow quietly moved into his makeshift office and hid behind the corner, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He heard the sound of shouts, gunfire, and then silence. Footsteps soon echoed up the hall, and the sound of the fans activating followed (Scarecrow almost growled at that), as did the sound of the doors opening. The footsteps came closer, the door creaked open, and Scarecrow lunged only to have his wrist caught, get thrown against the wall, and fall to the ground. When his vision straightened out, the Batgirl was standing over him, foot on his wrist as she disabled his gas canisters. "It doesn't matter if you put me away. I'll get out eventually. I always do. And I'll go right back to experimenting as always too," he smirked as the Batgirl roughly unmasked and handcuffed him. She hesitated ever so slightly but the Scarecrow noticed. "How does it make you feel, to know that your work will never truly end, and that there will always be people like me to plague the dreams of your precious city's citizens? Does it make you depressed? Worried? Afraid?" She didn't reply anything, but moved toward his desk, surveyed the numerable papers, chemicals, and materials, before dumping it all to the floor. The former psychiatrist's smirk melted and his jaw almost dropped.

"What are you doing?" Scarecrow cried, struggling against his bonds.

"Making a bonfire," the Batgirl said, taking a Bunsen burner and holding it over

"That is my entire life's work!" he shouted. The Batgirl turned to him.

"Well, well Doctor Crane. Would that be anxiety I'm detecting? Possibly nervousness? Or even, dare I say it… fear?" The Scarecrow glared at the Batgirl in a way that likely would've made most men cower and whimper in fear. Batgirl didn't bat an eyelash. She just glared back. "Gotham isn't how it used to be, Doctor. Get used to it." With that Batgirl turned and left the Doctor handcuffed and fuming. She went down the hall and entered the cell of the man who had been grabbed off the street earlier that night.

"I'm glad that antidote worked," a disguised John Blake said, taking off the fake mustache and scar makeup.

"So am I," Batgirl muttered, handing him a ski mask to cover his face with until he could get his mask and suit from the Batmobile. "Are all the patients safe?" He nodded.

"Yeah. I gave them the antidote and a sedative. They should wake up soon when the police arrive." She nodded.

"Time to go then." With that, the two vigilantes vanished into the night.