A/N Hello, for those of you who have not read any of my work before this is a sequel to 'The Girl in Question', which is part of a trilogy. It may help the story if you read the first two, but if you decide not to then I hope you still enjoy this! For those who have already read the first two, just to point out a couple of things, this is the last story, so I'm hoping it will be a lot darker than the first two. Not to get all 'Lost' on you, but a couple of the chapters will be like flashbacks, so that we can find out what Amelia and Jack got up to on their travels and how they got to this point. I really hope you all like it and it would be nice to hear your thoughts! xxx

I do not own any D.C Characters, Just Amelia.

Sea of Cards

When Amelia woke up, she could feel the ground moving beneath her body. The sky above her was black and threatening rain, cold water like ice splashed onto her bare feet making her wince. She sat up, sickness lurching up inside her, her hands clinging to the sides of the bright yellow life raft. The evening dress she had slipped on, only it seemed moments ago, clung like skin to her damp body, her pale feet blue with cold.

Her hand rushed to her mouth and unable to prevent it, she flung her torso over the side of the boat and vomited the dark water below, swimming before her eyes.

Her mind whirring she fell back inside the lonely raft, the terror of her situation engulfing her and she began to sob wildly, her breathing erratic and shallow.

Where the hell was Jack?

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think but everything was so black before her eyes. She remembered their stateroom. She remembered fastening her earrings before the mirror, her reflection beaming back at her. Her cheeks were pink, a healthy glow radiating from her body. She remembered Jack appearing in the mirror behind her….

Amelia's eyes flew open and she sat up, trying to ignoring the constant bobbing of the raft on the open water, that nauseating feeling creeping up her throat making her wanting to vomit again.

His face in the mirror…it had been the last thing she'd seen.

His painted face. It had been a whole year since she'd seen that sight. His twisted smile, that look in his black eyes. He hadn't looked at her that way for a long time.

Amelia peered over the top of the raft, her eyes roaming the black open water swelling around her. The sky above cracked in two, an electric bolt shooting through the darkness and she gasped, huddling into the corner. Rain from above began to hammer her body and she moaned, pulling her knees up to her chest for comfort.

Her terror got the better of her and she sobbed into the wet fabric of her dress, questions whirling around her head.

What had happened to the ship? Where was she? Where were the other passengers?

Where was Jack?

She cried until she couldn't see straight and waited. The night seemed to stretch into eternity and it felt like the raft was being lifted up by unseen hands and forced through the water with the strength of a tornado. Waves tore at the flimsy vessel, drenching her through. Amelia gripped the inside of the raft, her body exhausted but her fear kept her awake, clinging on to the boat for dear life.

Finally the first light of morning came and with it came the queasy feeling that Amelia had become all too familiar with during the night. With what little strength she possessed, she lifted her body and retched over the side of the boat, nothing but clear liquid from lack of food. She stared down at the dark water and saw the card floating there, almost as if it were waiting for her.

It was a Joker card. Tentatively she plunged her hand into the freezing water and pulled it out. Then she sat up and looked around her.

There were cards all around her. Hundreds of them, floating, bobbing on the gentle waves, their wicked grins leering up at her as if they were laughing at her.

You let your guard down; you let him in, now look what he did to you….

"No," Amelia said aloud, her voice lost and empty on the open water. She scurried around the raft, looking over the sides of the boat for any sign that she might not be the only one left alive.

There was nothing, nothing except the raft, her lonely voice and the laughing cards.

She covered her eyes. "Jack…why?" she moaned.

Her thoughts clearer than the previous night, she tried desperately to think what had happened.

She remembered putting on the evening dress, the one he had bought for her in Prague. She remembered him fastening the necklace around her throat, his fingers lingering there gently. She had chosen that moment.

"I've got something to tell you…."

Amelia fell back against the side of the raft, wondering how she would ever get out of this. She was completely and utterly alone, her hand touching the gentle swell of her stomach she swallowed back her tears.

She had thought at first he'd seemed pleased, but then nearly a whole year together and she still couldn't read his expressions.

He had disappeared for an hour leaving her to sit there and worry, until finally she had decided to carry on getting ready for dinner.

Then he had appeared in the mirror behind her.

"Now I have something to tell you…." he'd said.

Without thinking Amelia let her hand stray to the back of her head and felt the painful swelling there, dried blood peeling away in her fingers, matted into her blonde hair. Last night, too busy on keeping inside the raft she hadn't noticed the pain there.

Her face grey, she remembered what he had said and the familiar laugh in his voice.

"I think you've forgotten all about me. I think everyone has forgotten about me…and I'm not sure I like that. You can't deny what you are forever ballerina and I'm afraid…all good things come to an end,"

Amelia bit down on her lip, remembering seeing the gun too late. He'd hit her with it and she'd slipped into darkness. She brought her knees up protectively to her chest, hugging them to her and leaned her head on her arms, as if cradling the little life that was growing inside her.

How could he do this to her?

"I've got something to tell you Jack…I'm having a baby…"

She could hear the choked laughter of the Jokers floating nearby.

That'll teach you, silly girl. That'll teach you for running away, for abandoning your friends, for trusting a clown, for falling in love…

Amelia screamed into the emptiness of the ocean surrounding her, preying that somewhere, someone would hear her.

////

THE GOTHAM TRIBUNE

JOKER CONNECTED TO SUNKEN CRUISE LINER?

Yesterday more wrecked of the doomed Liner 'The Galaxy' was discovered washed up on a beach off the coast of Germany. A local walking his dog along the popular tourist beach, was shocked to discover clothing, suitcases and pieces of broken up furniture that is believed to come from the cruise liner. Also more unusually, washed all along the shore were hundreds of playing cards, all displaying the picture of the 'Joker', prompting rumours that the ship disaster is somehow linked to the homicidal criminal 'The Joker', a man who plagued Gotham over two years ago. Gothamites will remember how he held two ferries hostage, threatening to blow them up only a few years ago. The Joker escaped Arkham Asylum and has not been seen or heard from for over a year. Is this a warning that he will soon be returning to our shores?

German Police are still investigating the mysterious sinking, that claimed the lives of over two thousand passengers. They have not confirmed that the Joker may somehow be involved but Gotham will hold its breath, waiting for news.

Clara Olsen

////

A Hospital in Belgium

Eight days later

Bruce's footsteps on the polished floor echoed around him as he followed the young nurse down the hallway. His heart was thundering in his chest, his facial expression tight with worry.

It had been too much to hope for and he braced himself for another bitter disappointment. He thought back over the last eight days, since receiving word of the sinking, remembering the moment that Alfred had come to find him in the cave, his face white with shock.

Over the past year, Bruce had never really lost sight of Amelia. The fact that she had been with him, appalled him, made him almost venomous with rage that he managed to keep in check. But he knew that on some level, Amelia had to get this out of her system. She had to find out on her own that she was wrong about Jack Napier, but Bruce wasn't about to abandon her. He'd had various contacts keep a watch on them, what hotels they turned up in, what restaurants they ate at.

The man was evil, dangerous and unpredictable and now he had proven it solidly by blowing up the luxury liner that they had been staying on, its carcass lodged somewhere on the bottom on the Baltic Sea, along with nearly two thousand poor souls dragged down with it.

The thought of Amelia disappearing into the darkness along with it, sickened him.

Finally they reached the ward and the nurse nodded to the bed in the far corner by the window. Bruce swallowed as he approached the bed, his eyes fastening on the young woman laying there, her eyes closed against the sunlight.

A sob caught in his throat, relief washing over him but managed to prevent himself from running to the bed and taking her up in his arms.

She was blonde again, he noticed, her soft yellow hair spilling over the pillow and still as beautiful as she ever was, her dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she began to stir, almost sensing a presence by the bed.

When she opened her eyes and looked at him, he was shocked at the grey marks beneath them, her skin was pure white but then as the nurse had informed him, she had nearly perished from hypothermia, her body half starved, half frozen to death when a fishing trawler had discovered the small craft drifting off the coast of Amsterdam.

"Bruce," Amelia's voice choked stretching out her hand towards him, "Is that really you?"

Unable to stop himself any longer he was at her side and wrapped his arms around her tiny form. She sobbed and pressed her face into his sweater, the sight of him almost too much to take in. This was the meeting that she had been dreading for the last year, having to face Bruce again, after all she'd done to him, how much she'd hurt him, the thoughts had plagued her most nights.

"I'm so sorry," she wailed taking his handsome face in her hands, "I'm so sorry,"

He smiled, sniffing back emotional tears and kissed her cold face.

"We don't need to talk about that right now," he tried to hush her but she only gripped his wrists tighter.

"No, we do. I've been a monster to you Bruce. I lost my head; I fell for him and now look at what's happened! All those….poor people…"

She burst into tears and Bruce cradled her against him. He didn't care about the past. Unbelievably he didn't want to know about her year with the Joker. He didn't want to think about them together, him touching her, her laughing with him, because he knew that if he did then he could loose control.

He would never kill the Joker, because Bruce believed that the man, on some level could be saved. Amelia had fallen for that charm; he had played on her emotions and had somehow breached her defences.

He couldn't really hate her for that.

Finally Amelia looked back up at him. "Help me sit," she said and Bruce pulled her into an upright position, fluffing the pillow beneath her head.

He pulled up a chair and took her hand, meeting her steady gaze.

"Can you remember anything that happened?" he asked, "The nurse said that you were half frozen to death!"

Amelia sighed deeply. "I remember talking to him in our cabin before it happened. I don't remember the explosion, just waking up in the raft,"

"How did you get in the raft?" Bruce asked, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. He noticed that she hadn't pulled away.

Amelia shrugged. "In the cabin…he said that he couldn't deny who he was any longer…" her eyes filled up with hurt tears again and Bruce forced away a pang of jealousy. The fact that the Joker could reduce a woman like Amelia West to tears made him seethe.

"Then he hit me and I must have passed out, then, nothing," she hastily wiped her eyes, noticing the pained expression on Bruce's face.

How could she ever begin to explain to Bruce that up until eight days ago, this last year had been one of the most giddy, delirious and amazing years of her entire life? She had been a contented, blissfully happy woman in love, cradling the secret that she was going to have his baby and it had literally been ripped out from under her feet.

She had been so wrong, he didn't love her. It was her worst nightmare and she had an awful, sickening feeling that this had all been a game from the beginning.

"So you think that he put you in the raft?" Bruce's voice broke her thoughts, "Why would he save you and murder thousands?"

"I don't know," she was tired now, "But we know what he's capable of…at least I do now,"

Bruce squeezed her hand. Her agony was written across her face, the torment she felt inside burned into her blue eyes.

Bruce wondered if he could ever make her happy, like Jack had.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and she laughed sadly.

"You're sorry? Bruce I've put you through hell!"

"I'm sorry that you had to go through this…but then maybe it was necessary. Now you know what he really is. Is there anything that happened between you that might have provoked this? Did he seem especially twitchy or edgy? Did he say anything before that night?"

Amelia shook her head. "No, he was normal…about as normal as he gets,"

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "But it just doesn't add up. You've been away together for a year, you're on a luxury boat, romantic you would assume…then he just decides to blow it up? Think Amelia, did anything happen that you can remember that might have tipped him over the edge?"

Amelia bit her lip, the inevitable piece of news that she'd been hiding, suddenly hurtling towards her at full pelt.

"I don't know how to say this…" she began, meeting his gentle eyes, knowing how much she'd already hurt him, "I'm pregnant Bruce….I told him the night he blew up the boat,"

Bruce's dark eyes widened and he swallowed. "Well that explains a few things," he muttered, "Your pregnant…well…God Amelia…"

Amelia covered her eyes. "You hate me don't you?"

Bruce pulled her hands away from her face, a smile curling on his mouth. "No, I really don't,"

"But everything I have done…." She wailed and he shook her hands, forcing her to look at him.

"Everything you have done has brought us here," he said firmly, "It was meant to be this way and now it makes what I have to do all the more clear,"

Amelia looked at him, a puzzled expression on her face.

"What do you have to do?" she asked, puzzled at the smile on his face.

"I have to marry you,"

Amelia choked out a laugh. "Marry me?" she spluttered, "Are you serious?"

"Deadly," he smiled, "I want to marry you Amelia and not because your having a baby. When I saw you asleep a few minutes ago I knew it then. I love you and I want to protect you for the rest of my life,"

Amelia's eyes welled up again. "But the baby, you would be its father?"

Bruce leaned closer, his face so soft, so gentle and Amelia swallowed. He pressed a kiss against her forehead, she closed her eyes.

"As far as I'm concerned, the baby is mine. You are mine, forever. If you'll have me?"

She opened her eyes and stared at him. She was so confused.

"There's so much to think about…" she whispered but Bruce shook his head.

"Actually there isn't," he said standing up, "All you have to do is say yes,"

She watched him peel his coat off the back off the chair. "You're going?"

He nodded. "Your exhausted and you need to think, but I'll be back tomorrow and then I hope you may have an answer for me,"

Her eyes followed him to the door; a sudden panic that he was leaving crept into her throat. She didn't want him to go! He was the only man who she ever had felt truly safe with.

"Bruce wait!" she called after him and he turned to her, "You could just forget this whole year ever happened? You're telling me that when you look at the child you won't see him? That you won't end up resenting us?"

His face grave, Bruce returned to her bedside, looking down at her sadly.

"Amelia I think you know me well enough by now to realise that above all else in this world, I just want to protect you. I may not be the man who makes your stomach somersault when he kisses you or that you dream about when you're apart. I'm probably not the man who makes you laugh so hard you cry. But I am the man who will always keep you safe, who'll watch over you and put you and your baby before everyone else. I'm the better man,"

His words hung in the air even after he'd left the room. She lay back against the pillow, her mind whirring.

"I'm the better man…"

Amelia turned over in bed and closed her eyes, willing sleep to reach her. She gripped the starchy hospital sheets tighter with her fists.

A moment of weakness was all it would take to say yes. Could she forget all that had passed? Could she forget Jack, even though it was clear that he had forgotten about her? Memories of being stuck in the life raft floated back to her, being swung violently from side to side, her body wracked with cold and terror. She had thought that she was going to die that night, and the man she loved had put her there.

She just wanted to be safe. And now she had a baby to protect.

Amelia touched the swell of her stomach.

"Oh Jack…" she sobbed into the pillow.

Above all things now, she just wanted to be safe.

//////

GOTHAM TRIBUNE

PLAYBOY MILLIONAIRE WEDS GOTHAM'S PRINCESS

It was reported that billionaire Bruce Wayne, of Wayne Enterprises has married Gotham's favourite socialite Amelia West in a private ceremony at a church in Cortona, Italy. The pair have been linked in an on again, off again relationship for the past three years, finally putting an end to the rumours. The ceremony was held in the peaceful mountain village in Tuscany, with only two witnesses.

So now we'll see the quieter side to the former playboy, no more wild nights and long parties at the famous Wayne Manor. At the Gotham Tribune we want to wish the pair every happiness.

Carla Olsen

//////

Paris

A moment of weakness, the Joker mused, folding the newspaper back inside his overcoat. News of the infamous billionaire's secret wedding had reached European shores.

A moment of weakness was all it took to turn a ballerina into a princess. A spark of anger was all it took to turn a little boy into a painted freak. A moment of weakness was all that was required to transform a man in love to a scarred, insane clown, consumed by desperation.

Had to get off that boat, had to run away. Fire and water. Fire and water makes it all good again. Makes everything clean, a blank canvas to begin again.

I have to begin again.

He took the stairs to his hotel room, not wanting to be caught in an elevator. Fumbling for his keys in his pocket he unlocked the stiff door, a burning need in his throat. He headed to the bathroom and stared at the misshaped reflection there in the mirror.

Don't think about her face. Don't think about it. She's gone now, all gone, you're free.

His hands itched and he giggled taking up the tubes of face paint on the bathroom sink. Beginning with white, he smeared the paint over his skin, leaving sticky finger marks down his neck. The black was then rubbed carefully around his eyes, making sure that he went right up to the lashes. He rubbed the remains of the black ink on a white hotel towel, ignoring the note written in French from the housekeeper that had been left by the sink. He imagined that it said something about the amount of towels he'd ruined in this little Parisian Hotel. He thought that it must take a lot of detergent to get blood and paint out of laundry.

Finally to his crooked smile. He squeezed out the scarlet liquid onto his fingertips and trailed it over his lips.

Red lipstick. Red lips on his. Verona, Italy. She was wearing red lipstick and a black dress.

Stop, stop, stop!!

He ran his hands through his greasy, dull blonde hair, suddenly consumed with the need to yank it out by the roots. Pain was good; at least he could feel that.

Slowing his breathing, he straightened his tie. He looked good. Like his old self.

Leaving the bathroom he paced about the bedroom, surveying the chaos that he had created the night before. Last night he had robbed a small jewellery store in the Môn mart district of Paris and he knew it would not be long before the police caught up with him. His helpers, two young French men were quickly disposed of, their lifeless bodies littering the floor of the hotel room, the blood now dry and sticky on the carpet. He hadn't realised that he would miss this life so much. He had missed the kill.

She had stopped all that. A year spent living like a caged animal, trying to suppress his nature, all for her, all for her smile.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He would have to stop thinking about her sooner or later. But it was hard not to remember her, especially as he could still smell her perfume on some of his clothes. He tried not to remember her face, smiling up at him in the mirror.

"I've got something to tell you…"

The Joker shook his head, humming tunelessly to himself.

No, no. Its over, she's gone for now. I had to do it. I had to prove that I'm still me. I don't belong to anyone.

It was time to move on. It was time to forget Amelia West and all that she had meant to him.

Smiling to himself he kicked over one of the men, that leering grin cut into the younger man's face, staring up at him with dead eyes.

He would give Europe a try; make a name for himself here. Let the waters calm a little before making his move.

The Joker was back and he would wait for his moment. Then he would show Gotham and Amelia West what he was really made of.