"Liberty! Where are you?"

Great, he was home, she thought, and he didn't sound happy. "I'm in the lounge, Dad."

"Pack your things."

"What?! Why?!"

"I've had enough of you, since your mother left you've done nothing but mope around, and you're 18 now, you shouldn't be living at home."

Libby's dad hadn't always been such a bastard; he used to be kind, and loving, doting on his wife and daughter, and helping out her twin brother Robbie with all his school projects. Robbie had disappeared a couple of weeks ago; just days after their mother had walked out on them, saying she was returning home to England. She didn't like Gotham city at all.

"FINE!" she screamed, storming off upstairs. Why couldn't they have stayed in England? Then her mother would never have left and they'd be a happy family, not a broken one.

Dragging her suitcase out of the closet, she wondered how everything was going to fit in. How 5 years of memories could be crammed in to such an inadequately sized bag. She'd just have to pack the necessities: underwear, jeans, tops and hoodies. Plus her only pair of trainers and her toiletries obviously. It didn't take long, and within half an hour Libby was bumping her suitcase down the stairs, leaving it by the door. She took her keys from the hook, and wiggled the door key off of the ring, dropping it on to the carpet before wrenching the door open angrily and slamming it shut behind her.

Where could she go? she wondered as she shoved the bag in to the back of her little red Peugeot 207, her 18th birthday present. She didn't really know anyone in Gotham, at least no one she could stay with for an indefinite amount of time. Libby decided on driving out to one of the motels on the outskirts of the city. She knew this was where the mobs hung out, but the rooms would be cheap and she couldn't afford to dig too deep in to her savings. She plugged her iPod in to the adaptor and put it on shuffle, then turned on the ignition and set off. Maybe Robbie would contact her. Sure, his phone number was no longer available, but that didn't mean he couldn't choose to phone her.

It was 8 o'clock in the evening, dark and Libby was starting to get angsty. She still hadn't found a place to stay. All of the motels she'd tried had been full, and she was having to inquire at seedier and seedier ones. Finally, a flickering neon sign told her that the Sunshine Motel had vacancies. She pulled in to the car park, turned off the engine and removed her iPod, shoving it in to her pocket. Locking the car, she went inside to get a room, deciding that she'd come back for the suitcase.

"Hi, can I get a room for a week please?" she asked the male receptionist, who gave her the once over before demanding that she pay cash up front. Begrudgingly she agreed, shoving $150 in to his hand and turning back round, muttering something about going to get her suitcase from her car.

As she was nearing her car, she saw a figure slumped against the boot, where she needed to get to. The figure was male, and pretty well built from what she could tell, but there was also a puddle of something that looking suspiciously like blood pooling around him. Once she'd edged a bit nearer, she saw he appeared to be clutching his side tightly.

"Are you alright?" His head jerked up, eyes wide and curious, turning to fear as they started to focus. "It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you." She reassured him, wondering why he'd look so scared of a 5ft3 girl. "Let me see your side."

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." The voice didn't come from the man she was now crouching down beside, but instead from her left, where she'd just come from. A hand wound its way in to her hair and yanked her upright, pulling her head backwards and exposing her throat. A cold knife edge was pressed against the bare skin, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to warn her not to try anything.

"What's your name." The menacing voice again, this time right in her ear, but her head was pulled back too far to see his face. He wasn't asking a question, he was demanding an answer.

"Libby."

"Your full name."

"Liberty Blackburn." The hand in her hair shifted slightly.

"Ok, Liberty, normally you'd end up like this poor guy here, but –"

"I didn't see anything," she blurted out. "He was just leaning against my car when I came out to get my stuff. Honestly."

"Don't interrupt me again. That was your only warning. Now as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, I'm going to give you a choice. You can die. Here and now. Or you can come with us so we make sure you don't go crying to the police. Not that they'd do anything anyway, not now the Batman's gone."

Libby didn't want to die. Not now. Not like this. Her mind was made up. But she didn't know if she'd come to regret the choice she'd made. "I'll go with you."

"Good girl," he said patronisingly, and the hand in her hair released her, but the knife stayed on her neck. Her arms were grabbed and pulled behind her, then handcuffed together, the cold metal biting in to her bare wrists and she shuddered, wishing she'd worn a jumper. A blindfold was pulled over her eyes and the world went black. Someone gripped her upper arm like a vice and steered her towards an unknown destination before lifting her up in to the back of what she assumed was a van. The engine rumbled in to life and the floor started vibrating, before the driver pulled off. She felt more scared than she had ever before, but she told herself most of it came from not being able to see. She could feel two men on either side of her, their bodies warm and solid, stopping her from falling as they went around corners too fast.

It was an uncomfortable journey for her, as she couldn't lean back properly due to her bound arms, but luckily it was short and she guessed they'd just gone to a warehouse a few blocks from the motel. When the engine was turned off, and the doors opened, she heard water lapping against stone, telling her they were by the river. She was guided inside a building, and down several flights of stairs. This was not a good sign. Nothing good ever came from being in a basement. She heard a light being switched on but saw nothing through the blindfold. Her guider led her to a chair and forced her to sit down, then took off her handcuffs. She breathed a premature sigh of relief, until realising that her arms were being tied to the chair. Shit. This definitely wasn't good.

She heard the person's footsteps as they walked away and up the stairs, leaving her alone for at least an hour. She concentrated on breathing in and out slowly, trying to calm herself, until she heard more footsteps coming down the stairs. There were lots more people entering the room, moving to stand in front of her. Libby heard one step forward to remove the blindfold, and she distinctly heard a gasp from one of the men towards the back of the crowd gathered in front of her, but she was too busy blinking to stop her eyes hurting from the bright light flooding in to them.

"Libby?" a male voice asked. A voice she knew and loved.

"Robbie? Why am I here?"

"I don't recall telling either of you you could talk." It was the voice again, coming from behind her. How had she not noticed his footsteps? You could cut the silence with any one of the knifes she was sure these men had on their persons. "You're all dismissed except Cal."

"But –"

"Get. Out." The voice interrupted Robbie before he could protest. Now that Libby's eyes were adjusted to the light, she could see him shooting worried glances at her until he moved out of her peripheral vision and she heard the door close. Leaving her alone with two men she definitely didn't trust. The one in front of her, Cal, was built like a gladiator, his biceps bulging out of his t-shirt and she shuddered at the thought of getting in his way. It took her a while to realise the two men were talking over her, and she stopped thinking to listen.

"But she looks like she could be fun, boss."

"True, but I really need to settle this debt. He's not going to wait any longer. Go call him now."

Cal left, leaving just her and the owner of the voice. Libby kept her head down as the voice walked off to the side of the room and picked something up. A chair. He placed it front of her and sat down.

"Look at me." Again, he was commanding her. She kept her head lowered, until a stinging sensation went through her cheek and her head snapped to the right and an indignant look appeared on her face. He laughed, a cruel sound, as she dragged her eyes up to his. They were dark blue, so dark they looked black, like empty pits that stretched on and on. This was a man whom to fear, for if eyes are the window to the soul, then his had been bolted shut for years and his soul had perished. But Libby has a foreboding feeling that whoever Cal had left to phone would be even worse.

"Who are you?" Her head snapped the other way as he backhanded her. She tasted blood, and spat it on to the floor beside her. Pain was evident in her eyes, but there was a spark of defiance there also.

"Don't speak unless invited to. But I will tell you that my name is Cole, and I'm one of the relatively unheard of mob bosses." Cole. It suited him, she thought, thinking of his fathomless eyes. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him and resting his hands on the back of his head. Libby would have found him attractive if he hadn't had her tied to a chair and appeared to be giving her to some guy. His position was relaxed, carefree and he had a macabre smile assembled on his face, giving him a self-satisfied expression. The door banged open, and she heard Cal call out from the doorway that 'he' was coming down to inspect the goods to see if they were worthy enough to settle the debt.

"Good." Cal seemed to be hanging around by the door, waiting for something. Cole eventually snapped out "what?"

"Do you want me to get her ready?" Libby could practically hear the smirk as he said it, and her face must have registered some kind of expression, because Cole grinned evilly, and shook his head no. A grunt of disappointment and then the door swung shut. Cole rose, and flicked a knife out of his pocket. Libby visibly flinched but he just chuckled and sliced through the ropes binding her to the chair.

"Stand." She did not. A hand jerked her up by the scruff of her t-shirt, and the chair was kicked away. "Now strip."

"What?!? No fucking way." She had spun around by this point and was full on glaring in to Cole's eyes.

"Yes fucking way," he growled, bringing the flick knife up to her throat, "either you take them off or I cut them off. And I won't be too bothered about whether I get you with the knife as well."

Libby wasn't an idiot, and she knew it would be better not to risk infection by getting cut up by some sadistic freak, so she took a step back and turned around.

"Uh uh." He grabbed her arm and spun her back round before settling down in his chair. "I want to enjoy the show."

She glowered at him, but yanked her top over her head throwing it down on the ground, then undid her jeans and pushed them down.

"And the rest," he smirked. Here she refused. There was no way in hell that she was going to remove her underwear in front of this creep. It was bad enough that she'd chose to wear a thong today. Luckily, or unluckily, she was saved this by the door being thrown open. Cole's attention diverted, she snatched up her clothes and used them to cover herself whilst backing in to a corner.

"Coooooooooooole, I have to say, I was thrilled your little henchman called me up, saying you wanted to settle our debt. It's about time too, if I'm honest. I was starting to think you might be trying to be funny. And we both know who's the funnier person out of us two. So where's our little settlement?"

Cole turned around to grab Libby, smarting when he saw her in the corner to the left of the door, baring his teeth aggressively when she didn't come over. What did he think she was, stupid? She recognised that greasy green mop of hair, and there was no chance that she was going anywhere near that man willingly. Unfortunately, the Joker followed Cole's gaze, and his face broke in to a wide grin that didn't reach his cold eyes.

"Liberty, come over here right now," Cole growled, but she was stuck to the spot, unable to move even if she wanted to. The Joker was staring at her predatorily, and she was frozen like prey. Cole strode over to her, clearly pissed off, and grabbed her arm so tightly that she cried out in pain as he dragged her back over before snatching away her t-shirt and jeans from her clutches. She snatched at them, but he chucked them away, out of her reach. Now she was standing there in her bra and very revealing underwear, shivering with cold or fear, she wasn't sure which. Libby tried to keep her face deadpan, devoid of all emotion, but she knew the fear was showing in her eyes.

"You know what, Cole? I think you've got yourself a deal." His words sent shivers down Libby's spine as she raised her eyes to meet the most feared man in Gotham's.