**Note** If you haven't read "The Day Will Rise" it is strongly recommended that you do that first. This is the sequel to that.
I wake up in a dark room. Was I really awake? Never could tell anymore. I get out of the bed I'm in and walk down the hall that adjoins with the room I am in. Purple. That's the color of the hallway. Never really liked purple. Haven't ever been a fan of it. I walk farther and farther down the hallway until I see him. The man who murdered my mother. I see him laughing to himself. Laughing at what? Laughing at me? My anger grows and I charge him. He tries to shoot me, but his gun is out of ammo. I shoulder-check him to the ground. He once again starts laughing that annoying laugh. I dive on top of him, punching his face as hard as I can. He is just laughing. Why is he laughing? I start slamming his head against the ground until I hear a snapping coming from him. Then, I start laughing.
"Master Kameron." The butler, Alfred Pennyworth says to me as I awake, "Are you alright, sir?"
"Just fine, you stupid bloody Brit." I say in a Scottish accent. I find myself doing this more and more. Insulting people. I always insult the butler in this accent. I really have turned into such a jerk, but I don't care. Nothing matters. Not my friends, not my team, not my girlfriend, not even my brother. Nothing matters until I've killed that stupid clown. The man, nay, the monster who murdered my mother.
"Master Kameron," The Butler scolded, "Language, please!"
"Oh you want language?" I say in my Scottish accent, "Well why don't you go fu-"
He covers my mouth. The Butler had decided to touch me. I decide to go flat. No emotion, no voice, no caring.
"My lord, Master Kameron!" The Butler yells in frustration as he storms from the room, "You are impossible."
Once he's gone, I lie back into bed, and dream of killing that Clown.
—Danny—
I woke up on a fire escape, my side aching. My mind flashed back to how I got here. A bomb, set by the Penguin's men, went off behind a door I was about to enter. It was blown off it's hinges, and sent flying into me. I smashed through the window, and fell onto the fire escape.
I slowly hoisted myself up with my bat. I was surprised to see Robin standing on the railing of the fire escape.
"Poor little Dayhound," Robin said, laughing, "need a little birdie to help the poor doggy up?"
"Shut up Robin." I said to him, flipping him off. He just laughed at me, then grappled up to the roof. I took another moment to get my senses back, then jumped back through the window.
The room that had been blown up was now on fire, but not severely, so it wouldn't burn the building down. I charged through the room and burst through the door on the other side. I heard a machine gun go off, and hit the floor, narrowly avoiding a shower of bullets. I crushed a smoke bomb on my belt before the shooter could fire again. I leapt off the wall to my left, landing on top of the man with the machine gun. There were two more men in the room, but they jumped out of the window, and started heading down the fire escape. I considered chasing them, but there was a greater concern. They had just finished setting bomb that would blow up the whole building and all the surrounding ones, all of which were filled with people, not to mention Batman, Batgirl, and Robin were fighting with thugs on the roof.
I ran over to the bomb and started to disarm it. I used my utility knife to open the console, then cut a few green wires. The timer was still counting down. I was running out of time. In a frenzy, I punched the main circuit. To my relief, the timer stopped. I exhaled loudly.
"Phew..." I heard a girl's voice say from behind me, "was worried you weren't gonna get that there."
I spun around and was met by a pair of bright purple eyes. She smiled at me with scarlet lips and pearly white teeth. She moved her wild, shoulder-length, red hair out of her eyes. Overall, she was pretty hot. I didn't let her know that though.
"Who are you?" I asked in a gravelly voice.
"I'm the Joker's daughter, but you can call me Duela." She said, holding out her hand. I opened my mouth to speak, but had no idea what to say. Was this girl really the Joker's daughter? As far as I knew, the Joker had only had a girlfriend for two years.
"So, are ya gonna tell me your name, or are we just gonna make out?" She said, getting closer. I, for whatever reason, decided to take a less serious approach. It may have been my costume, or it may have been Duela.
"Sorry babe," I said in my gravelly voice, pushing her away, "not on the first date."
"Does that mean I'll get a second?" She said, wrapping her arms around me and getting in close.
"We'll see." I answered as I pushed her away.
She then brandished a knife. My utility knife. My three-inch long, razor sharp, thin-enough-to-fit-through-finger-bones utility knife. She slashed for my throat, but I through up an arm to block it.
"You're good." She said, winking.
"Could say the same about you." I replied, more seriously than before. I will admit, during this fight I did have to keep reminding myself that I had a girlfriend and that this woman was trying to kill me. Of course, I don't think she was really trying to kill me, because she was telegraphing all of her moves. Even an untrained person would be able to make some moves secretly.
Eventually, she was backed up to the window.
"Well, thanks for the dance, cutie," she said, jumping out the window, "but I gotta run."
I ran to the window she had jumped from and looked out. She was no where to be seen. The trail had run cold. I headed up to the roof, where Batman was supposed to be. Of course, he was no where to be seen. They had ditched me again. In frustration, I made my way back to my car, and from there, to the Batcave.
When I arrived, I found Barbara and Dick sparring and Bruce, at the Batcomputer.
"Gee guys," I said sarcastically as I got out of my car, "thanks for waiting for me."
None of the others said anything. I went up to the Batcomputer and leaned up against it.
"Met a girl today. Claimed to be the Joker's Daughter." I said as I got up to Bruce. He took his attention off the screen and stared at me for a second.
"Impossible." He said, turning back to the screen. He was staring at a recreated digital crime scene. A triple homocide. Probably the reason they had ditched me.
"Why's that?" I asked after a second.
"Because," Batman said, not turning from the screen, "The Joker only has a son. And he's five years old."
"What?"
"Before the Joker was the Joker, he was a normal person. He had a son."
"How do you know that? Do you know who he is?"
Instead of answering me, he waved me off, telling me that he was done answering my questions.
