Hello! I am back after 5 years! Wow! I just sat here and read my old batman story. I went through the reviews and everything. While I was rereading my story I really got into it and I hated the ending I wrote and was like, "WTF Melissa." So I started a sequel. I don't know if any of the old readers even use this website anymore. It would be a shame if them didn't... and they would see my addition. :( I have kind of forgotten the fanfiction lingo...so have mercy on me. SINCE THE IS A SEQUEL, I recommend reading the first story. s/4458572/1/Front-Page-Headline-Does-Gotham-Know-Batman
There is the link you are interested!
Please let me know what you think! I am trying to incorporate the recent Batman Rises movie. Thanks for reading!
It had been 8 years since that day. When Bruce had left me on that rooftop to watch below as the smoke cleared and Gotham police rushed onto the scene. I will never forget how long I screamed from the top of the building, my throat burning. The people were like ants, franticly trying to save the anthill. I hadn't been able to help him. Ryan had just lain there slowly dying. I couldn't do anything about it. But he could have. Batman. Bruce. Whoever the hell he was.
I began to understand what he had meant when he warned me about creating a monster. He had been speaking about himself. The torment he suffered with his double life. The stress of it taking its toll on him every day, and every night. He hadn't wanted to wish this upon me. But I hadn't listened. I should have. But it was too late by then. The damaged had been done. No matter how much I think about that day, the facts will never change. Bruce had to leave. Batman would have been taken down at the scene. As the cops surrounded the Iceberg nightclub, he had no other option but to flee. Maybe he thought the police would find Ryan. Maybe he just didn't care. But that didn't make sense. I knew Bruce, the man under the mask. And even Batman knew that leaving Ryan there was wrong. He might as well have killed him, and that was against his code.
I never did see Bruce after that. After the incident, I had stayed in my house for quite some time. I thought about things a lot and tried to understand them. I needed to get my life back on track. I felt anger towards Bruce. It wasn't until a month later that I had taken time to visit his penthouse. But it was empty. No body was home. Not Bruce, and no Alfred. Wayne Enterprises was controlled and managed by hired people, and Bruce Wayne was a ghost. The Wayne Manor was gated off with limited access. Bruce did not want to be found. After no attempt from him to contact me, I decided it was time to move on. I needed to move on.
Ryan's funeral had taken place a few days after his death at the Iceberg nightclub. Few attended including his mother and father. I stood back and watched the scene. Giving my confused thanks from a distance. I had got my wish to have him dead. But I regretted it. It did not end the way I had wanted it to, as I had never imagined him winning my forgiveness, how ever small the amount was.
I usually though about the past while I scanned through fluff pieces that my reporter's wrote for me. I had taken over Ryan's Job as editor of the Gotham newspaper. My desk was messy like his was when I had first walked into his office 10 years ago. He had been right. The clutter did happen. I wonder where we would have been a decade later. Married? Kids? Nice house? But instead I had fucked it up, and he was 6 feet under ground. As for marriage, that hasn't happened yet. No kids either. I had gone back to focusing on my career, the way it should have always been.
There was a knock on my office door. I peered up from the story on the boy stuck in the vending machine. "Come in," I hollered.
"Hello," the officer greeted me. "Your father sent me here."
"Oh, hello…" I replied quizzically. "What did he need?"
"He wanted me to bring you these papers," he said politely as he handed me a folder.
I opened it up and quickly skimmed through the pages. There were detailed reports on criminals who were currently loose in Gotham. I had kept the crime section alive in the news paper and expand it to be as long as it needed to be to insure that Gotham citizens knew every wanted criminal. I smiled as I looked up from the files.
"Thank you very much, Officer…" I paused, realizing I hadn't caught his name.
He smiled. "Officer Blake miss."
"Very nice to meet you," I chimed, shaking his hand. "I'm Morgan." I placed the files on my desk in front of me. "Thank you for the files, and I will have these names in tomorrows paper! Tell me father thank you for me."
We shook hands again before he said goodbye and left my office. I had never seen him before and rendered that he must be a rookie. Though I hadn't been around the police station very often lately due to my schedule.
I opened the file folder again. Most of the criminals were thieves and drunken gamblers desperate for a buzz or shitty odds to bet on. After the Joker, all the criminals never compared. I sighed and picked up the phone.
"Could you please come to my office," I said into the receiver. I hung up and waited for my office door to open. "Come in," I called.
"You wanted to see me Miss?" asked my intern as she stood awkwardly in my doorway.
I looked up at her from the files. I laughed. "I'm don't bite. You can come closer."
She quickly shuffled towards my desk and halted a foot from the corner. I picked up the file folder the Office Blake had delivered to me from my father. She took it from me and opened it.
"I need those picked scanned and ready for print. I also want you to do the crime column for me this week. There's not much in there, just type up the facts and submit it to me by 4 o'clock." I nodded at her, "okay?"
I saw the shock and joy flash across her freckled face. She nodded brisk fully and thanked me as she left me office. I smiled as I watched her practically skip down the hall. That was an important section to write for in a city like Gotham. I just didn't have the time this week, and the criminals weren't too important.
I looked at the clock and it read 1'o clock. Seems like a good time to take my lunch. Just as I had set aside my stack of papers I had to finish editing, my phone rang.
"Oh for Christ sake," I muttered under my breath as I picked it up. "Hello, Morgan Hilroy Editor of Gotham Heights Newspaper, how may I help you?"
"Darling!" Rang the voice on the other end of the line. "How's my beautiful daughter?"
"Daddy?" I exclaimed. "What makes you call?"
"Well as you know I have an event to go to tonight," I have completely forgot, "and that's why I sent Officer Blake over with the files." He cleared his throat. "I wanted to see if you wanted to come with me to the event? Write a story on it?"
I tossed the idea around in my head. I could go for a nice evening or dressing up and free food. "Sure, where is it?" I asked him.
He hesitated. "You see…honey…that's the problem."
"What's the problem?" I questioned him.
"It's at Wayne Manor," he said.
