Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with, nor do I own anything that belongs solely to the Batman universe created by the comics, movies, and cartoons. I do however, own Sally Galeson. The rag doll is all mine! Mwahahaha!
A/N: Okay, so, I've had a story idea bouncing around in my head. This story features a character that I've made up all by myself plus the Scarecrow and Harley Quinn and Catwoman but with my own little twists. I've taken bits and pieces of the original characters and then added some other things. Let me know if you like my story thus far, please :)! [takes place roughly 3-4 years after Batman Begins] Also, I want to take this time to inform you there will be femmeslash (and a teeny bit of slash) in future chapters. If that isn't your thing I suggest you don't read this story. M'kays, onwards!
Chapter One
It's kind of funny, really. Fate has a way of very subtly sinking her claws into you and turning your life on its head.
Sally Galeson had been just a kid when the Scarecrow struck terror into the heart of Gotham. She'd been thirteen going on fourteen and was only in town visiting (Great) Aunt Anna. She hadn't known that years from then the young (monster?) man riding a horse through Gotham would be her entire world.
She did, however, find herself walking towards him - only to be pulled and pushed around by the panicking bystanders. Sally wasn't sure then whey she had wanted to be near him; she'd simply been drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
Hayley Fitzpatrick had also been thirteen when the city of Gotham nearly ate itself alive. She was in her room crying; her stepmother's funeral had been that morning. She had loved her stepmother very much. Hayley's father was passed out (drunk) in the living room (still clutching his beer bottle). He didn't stir once throughout the whole ordeal. Hayley had barricaded the door to her room and hid in her closet.
After a while she grew curious and sat on the fire escape outside of her window. She stayed up all night watching the citizens of Gotham tear the city apart (reflecting her own mess of emotions). She found herself enjoying the mayhem; the chaos was kind of beautiful in a twisted way.
One year later, Sally had moved in with (Great) Aunt Anna because (her stupid mother had gone and messed everything up and) she had no where else to go. She'd been too busy grieving for the death of her baby brother to care much what the Joker did to Gotham. Sally hardly ever even left the apartment anyway; Aunt Anna had begun to home school her.
Meanwhile, Hayley was throwing herself into her sports with more vigor than necessary. She was constantly pushing herself beyond her limits. Hayley couldn't help but admire and respect the Joker. He knew how to shake things up. He didn't follow anybody's rules; heck, he didn't follow any rules. He didn't fear anyone; every one feared him. Hayley wished she could live like that.
Another year passed and Sally found herself settling in quite nicely. She had taken over her education and found herself advancing quickly. She did most of the chores and errands to help make things easier for Aunt Anna. Poor, old, Aunt Anna was a secretary and would only be eligible for retirement in a few years. The two of them barely made it by. Sally had been going grocery shopping (on her sixteenth birthday no less) when everything spiraled out of control. She hadn't seen the mugger until it was too late. She struggled and nearly got away; then she fell and smashed her head off of the alley wall and everything went black.
Sally woke up in an abandoned warehouse, bound but not gagged, and giggled over how cliché the whole thing was. Then the would-be-mugger kicked her stomach and knocked the wind out of her. While she gasped for breath, he trailed his hand from her wrists, up her arm and neck to her cheek. Sally shuddered and didn't find things so funny anymore. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and couldn't scream. He caressed her face and she whimpered. Then the building exploded.
About a month later Hayley had lied to her father. She had said she had an important track meet on Halloween when she was actually going to the school dance. She'd never been to one and had decided that she should go to the Halloween one. There would be hell to pay later, but she hoped the night would be worth it. She was going to the dance as a jester - a Harlequin Jester. The outfit was a skintight body suit that alternated red and black; complete with an eye mask and a jester's hat. Hayley had picked out black and red heeled boots for the night, to match her costume. She wore white face paint and black lipstick; she even found an old pair of black and red fingerless gloves.
She felt...empowered. It was exciting to finally be able to dress up for Halloween. She felt like a whole new person that night. It was almost like she was someone else; someone wild, dangerous, and out of control. She'd never felt so alive in her life. Of course, her father was passed out drunk when she got home, but he had known the next day that she had lied. He destroyed and threw away her costume; Hayley felt a black hatred she had never known before. She had wanted to tear into him for once, but... She was out of school for a week. A terrible stomach bug, she had explained (even though she had never been sick a day in her life) and knew better than to tell the truth at that point. No one could help her.
Two years later and Sally had already finished with high school and had been well into her online college courses. She had finally found a job to help pay for the apartment and let Aunt Anna cut back her hours. It hadn't been easy finding a job (because no one wants to hire a freak that'd scare away customers.) Sally wasn't like the other girls anymore; she was covered in scars.
Sally felt they made her beautiful, made her stand out, made her special. She had no problem with them, but the 'good' citizens of Gotham thought of her as a freak; and wasn't that a hoot-in-a-half? She was the freak when they practically worshiped a rodent inspired vigilante. Puh-lease. Of course, the only place to hire her was Arkham. She worked in the basement, filing and doing other menial tasks; most importantly she was kept out of sight (and out of mind).
Hayley was a senior in high school. She was taking gymnastics that year. It reminded her of the acrobatics class she took the one (and only) time she'd gone to summer camp. She had loved acrobatics. She didn't have many (any) real friends but usually had lunch with the girls from whatever sport she was doing. The gymnastics girls all had lunch outside. None of them would snub her intentionally but most of the conversation happened around her instead of including her. Hayley figured they were intimidated by her; she was a natural athlete and had already surpassed them in training.
Hayley never bothered to pay attention to the petty dramas of her team mates and instead would try to plan her future. Her father wanted her to go right into the workforce and live at home. Hayley, however, planned to get out of that apartment and as far away as possible. She half-thought of going to college for sports but really didn't want to go through more classes. She hated school.
Hayley would inevitably see her then; the lady with the scars. The lady (young girl really) always walked by the high school to the nearby cafe; she wore an Arkham ID badge (and who's bright idea was that? putting the asylum up the road from the high school?) Hayley longed to talk to her. She always walked with her head up and her shoulders back; as if she wasn't covered in scars that everyone would point at and whisper about.
Sally always took her lunch break at the cafe down the street (by the high school). She hated walking by the high school. The immature children (some of them her age actually...) would stare and whisper as if she couldn't see, as if she didn't know (because freaks aren't real people, right?) She hadn't felt like a child since before she'd moved here, but she tried to forget that. She couldn't bring herself to let others in and so she had no real friends. She'd been forced to grow up too fast, to shoulder responsibility at a young age, and learned that she couldn't trust others. The last she'd learned the hard way.
Hayley forced a smile, a chuckle, a laugh, anything to keep everyone off of her back. She had to keep their attention off of her and make them think she was a normal, average girl (with normal, average bruises. of course she couldn't actually feel pain because she didn't matter, right?) Sometimes her father would show up to her sporting events and would tell her exactly how terrible she was and how much she didn't matter and...
He'd had it rough growing up and then losing two wives, and getting stuck with such a screw up and his pain was the only pain that mattered. It didn't matter what sport she played, she'd never amount to anything, and she'd never be anybody.