Disclaimer: All characters in this are owned by DC, and no matter how much I pretend I own them myself, and illusion will always be just that, and illusion.

Chapter 1

In Gotham City, no one is untouchable. It doesn't matter who you are or what you do; you are not untouchable. Untouchable, in Gotham City, is an illusion created by politicians and drug lords out of bribes, money trails, and drugs. And no matter how real it may seem, an illusion will never be anything more than just an illusion. So no matter how much people try, in Gotham City, no one is untouchable.

---

Carmine Falcone—as he often stated--hated Gotham City. It wasn't just one particular thing he hated about the city; it was everything: the smell of the air, the people, the fact that every time you left your home, you would be putting your life in danger. He hated how every time the sun would set it would make the sky as red as blood. But most of all, Carmine hated his family, or rather, his family's business. For this reason Carmine wanted to leave Gotham forever, and no one was going to stop him. All Carmine needed to do was fix some last minute arrangements and he would be off with his family to Metropolis. Forever gone.

---

Falcone weddings are almost always big events, not just for the Falcones but for everyone in Gotham City. So it was no surprise that Carla Falcone and Felice Viti's wedding was on everyone's lips 3 days before the actual ceremony. Everyone from the mob bosses of Gotham to the lowly gangs knew of it, every detail from the decorations to the very popular guests to how many of the Falcones' men would be on guard. Vincent Falcone always did like to brag.

And it was also no surprise that his enemies would use this to their advantage. Somewhere in a back alley in East End, two dark figures converged to a nearby flaming pile of garbage. The night was dark and the Gotham clouds covered the face of the moon. Around the two figure, rats scurried about like shadow creatures known only by the lost. Their faces were lit up by the flame's soft glow, making the shadows on their faces make them more intimidating like faceless monsters in the darkness.

Salvatore Maroni spoke first in his hushed voice. "Pops wants you to take out someone," he said as he passed a brown envelop to the other man.

Luca "Toots" Mareli took the envelop and carefully began to take out the things inside: a snub-nose revolver, an invitation to the Falcone-Viti wedding, and a picture of his target.

"You sure this is the target?' he asked almost in disbelief as he showed the picture back to his employer.

"This ain't no time to develop a conscience Mareli. If we can do anything to hurt those damn Falcones, we should do it."

"I know, but she's done nothing to us."

"Just do it Mareli. Not like we're not paying you," he said with authority. He handed the photo back to Luca. "Do it Luca or you'll regret it."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, flashing red and blue lights came into the alley and a police car drove in from the corner of the street.

"Cops" Luca said obviously worried.

"Just go, I'll take care of this."

Luca Mareli didn't even bother to disagree. He didn't want to. He just wanted out of there. Without a second thought, he ran into the adjacent alley and disappeared into Gotham's embrace.

"A little late to be out, isn't it Mr. Maroni?" Two men came from within the police cruiser. One of them was a fat bearded man, and the other was a thin man with glasses and a brown mustache.

"I'm not a kid. I don't have a curfew, Flass" he said addressing the larger man.

"Course you are, Maroni. You're just 18 after all. Now, what would your father say of Gotham's finest if we just let kids like you run around at night.

"He'd say, you were cowards," he quipped.

Up to this point, the other man had stayed silent, just watching the two men's verbal jousting.

"Why you" said Flass as he pulled his 9MM on Maroni. It was then that the other police officer stepped in. He quickly knocked the gun out of Flass' hands.

"That's enough out of both of you! Just go home son."

"And you are?" Maroni asked.

Before the man could even open his mouth Flass answered the question. "Gordon. My new partner."

Salvatore began to circle Jim Gordon. His eyes set to study every detail of the man. "It seems GCPD still has righteous men in its force" he said then he leaned in closer to Gordon's face. "I don't like righteous men, Mr. Gordon, so in the future, I suggest you stay out of my way."

Gordon kept a straight face. "Only if you don't do anything illegal, kid. Now, please head on home. I'm sure your father is worried about you."

Maroni smiled. Sal looked into Gordon's eyes and Gordon looked into his. "I'll be seeing you around, Mr. Gordon." He turned and went on his way.

Flass picked up his weapon from the ground before entering the police car. Gordon followed shortly after.

"Gordon?"

"Hm?"

"Don't ever get in my way again."

3 days later.

Carmine was ready to leave. He was packing a few more folds of shirt into his already packed suitcase. Just one more week and he'd be gone. He'd get away from the family, away from the crime, away from everything. All that needed to be done was go to his sisters wedding. Personally, Carmine never enjoyed weddings. He hated any type of family gathering, but Louisa (his wife) had insisted they go, and he had agreed. After all, it may have been the last time he was ever going to see any of his family members. The least he could do was show some respect before he was gone forever.

No one in the family liked the idea of Carmine leaving. He was always the bright one among the three siblings, and many thought it a shame that his smarts were not used in the "family business". His father, Vincent was, in fact, infuriated when Carmine had finally mustered up the courage to tell him that he was leaving with his family. His father had picked up a handgun and began shooting blindly in all directions. Two bodyguards were injured. Carmine's sister, Carla, however, didn't seem to care much about his departure. She was always the spoiled one, and as long as they were rich, she couldn't care less. Everyone seemed to dislike his plans to leave which is why he was surprised that his older brother, Antonio, was very understanding about it.

"I understand why you have to leave" he had said. His voice was always the type to move people. "And no matter what happens, you'll still be mi famiglia. You will always be my brother."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Carmine shouted into the hall. A man about the same height as Carmine came into the room. He came in his well tailored suit and dark glasses. He kept both hands in his pockets. He was obviously fidgeting with something in there.

"Milos come in," he said "I'm just packing the last of my stuff."

Milos Grappa came closer to Carmine, pulling his hand out of his pocket. "The wedding's in an hour. We better get there early."

Carmine zipped up his bag and fixed his tie. "Shall we go?" he asked as he looked at himself at the mirror, combing his hair back.

"Of course" Milos answered.

Milos led Carmine to the car parked right outside his house. As they came to the street, a ball shot past Carmine's face, nearly hitting his features.

Milos quickly shot his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small snub-nosed revolver. He aimed to the direction of the ball and had every intention of firing if Carmine had not stopped him.

"Milos, it's just a ball." He said as he handed the ball back to the boy who had thrown it. Milos lowered his weapon slowly, almost cautiously.

Milos was, in every sense of the word, a bodyguard. Even if he and Carmine had grown up together, he had never seen himself as more than just the bodyguard of Carmine. Carmine had always tried to fix that.

"You know I don't like weapons, Milos."

"I wouldn't be much of a bodyguard if I didn't have a weapon."

Carmine reached his hand out to Milos. "Give me the gun." He demanded as he insistently kept his palm open. Milos seemed to think of what to do first. He hesitantly pulled the gun out of his pocket.

"Give me the gun" Carmine repeated a darker voice, in his voce, in his father's voice. Finally Milos gave him the gun.

"Now for the last time Milos, you're my friend, not my bodyguard."

---

Luca "Toots" Mareli was, at best, jumpy. And he had every reason to be. He had never done anything like this before, nothing of this magnitude. So it was understandable that he was sweating like an assassin on his first big hit as he came under the big flower decorated arc at the entrance of the Falcone compound. After this he would be a made man, he kept telling himself. All he needed to do was stay calm. He saw the two heavily muscled men at the entrance, and for the first time in his life he found himself doing something he had not done ever. He was praying.

"Invitation" said the shaded bouncer with his hand outstretched.

Luca nervously gave his invitation to the man, trying desperately not to look suspicious. As he handed his invitation, it was swiftly taken from his hand. The guard looked at it suspiciously.

"Something wrong?"

The guard simply gave him a grunt them allowed him into the compound.

Luca let out a big sigh when he got inside and whispered to himself "That was close" Now the hard part.

---

Gotham cops are rarely ever worth anything, but Jim Gordon was different. He wasn't at all corrupt, and in Gotham City, that's saying something. Jim Gordon hated it when the bad guys got away. And a lot of that had been happening lately since he moved to Gotham. To his dismay, he had gotten used to it. But what he hated the most was when the good guys couldn't do anything to hurt the bad guys. And that was exactly what was happening. All the cops in Gotham knew that the Falcones were having a wedding, and it would attract all the big time mob bosses: the Maronis, the Vitis from Chicago, the Skeevers, and the Gazzo family from Metropolis. And yet, they did nothing. They were all probably on the Falcones' paycheck, and that included his very own partner, Detective Flass.

"They're all right there just waiting for us to arrest them," he said to the commissioner.

"Arrest them? We don't even have proof any of them being guilty of any allegations against them. Until they're proven guilty, we can't touch them."

Gordon stayed silent. He knew there was nothing else to say. All he did was look back at the commissioner.

"We can't touch them. You understand?" the commissioner said. His voice was almost a shout. "Any of them."

Gordon turned and left the room.

"Gordon! I'm warning you, Gordon. Don't touch any of them."

All eyes were set on him. It seemed no one in Gotham liked good cops. Not even the cops themselves. Gordon felt like there was no one to trust here. And there really wasn't. He was alone.

He put on his trench coat and left the office. He walked aimlessly through the Gotham streets. The neon lights and gothic architecture didn't exactly make the city the most welcoming place on earth. If anything, it made the people cower in fear. How can there be hope in the hearts of the people when the city itself seems to have lost all hope? He had been doing this a lot lately, just walking the littered Gotham streets with no idea where exactly he was going. It helped him clear his mind, helped him understand exactly what he was doing in Gotham. His aimless journey brought him to an old part of East End which meant it was older than old.

There was a church there. Its windows were covered with plywood, and the stone walls were covered with graffiti. These were signs of abandonment. He pushed the massive doors open, and it creaked when it swung. Inside, the floor was wet with rain and rat urine. The stained glass were smashed into oblivion, leaving behind headless saints and angels. Soft bluish moonlight crept into the church and spilled onto the aisle.

Jim carefully made his way to the cross, making sure he did not step on the pungent smelling liquids on the floor. He knelt down on one of the wooden benches. Looking up at the cross, he prayed.

It was a silent prayer, designed only for one to hear. The words were muffled in the darkness. All that could be distinguishable of it was that it was just a short prayer, no more than six lines, and it ended with, "Something needs to be done."

---

It was a hot night, even for June, one of the hottest Gotham had ever known. Many of the guests joked that years from now people would complain about how hot it was, but those who were present at the Viti-Falcone wedding would say that it wasn't nearly as hot as the night Felice Viti and Carla Falcone got married.

Somewhere at the back of the room, Carmine Falcone stood waiting. Beside him was his trusted friend and bodyguard Milos Grappa always there to play the part of the guardian if ever needed. Carmine scanned the entire room for the person he was looking for. No luck. She's probably late, he thought. Then, out of the crowd she finally came, Louisa, his wife. She gave him a smile with her crimson lips as she approached in her gorgeous dress. It waved in the hot June air.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," he said, pulling her towards him and giving her a kiss.

"Sorry, had to tuck in the kids first."

Behind them, Milos's eyes rolled inside his skull. Couples, he probably thought in an exasperated voice in his head.

Louisa saw this and laughed, and for some reason, Carmine felt like laughing as well. He shrugged. What are you gonna do? I love this woman and she loves me.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang from inside the mansion. Everyone turned to see what was going on. From somewhere inside the crowd, Carmine heard his father's voice. Signs of anger evidently lined them.

"What the hell was that!?" he asked no one in particular. And all the people did was give him a puzzled look.

But then, the anger in his voice faded, changed into something else, changed into fear.

"Vivian" he whispered under his breathe. He raced into the manor, not caring who he hit on the way. Carmine followed his father with Milos closely behind him.

"Stay here" he shouted back to his wife, and she nodded in response.

Through the marbled corridors they ran. All Carmine saw was his father in front of him. He could hardly catch up, and, at the moment, was surprised by how fast his father ran.

When Carmine got to his mother's bedroom, he stopped next to his father. His father stood silent and still. Tears balled up in his eyes, and with all his power, he tried to hold them back. They were joined by Milos, Antonio, and the other guards. All of them stopped as well.

"They're going to pay." He heard his father say. "They're going to pay."

Next time: Carmine and his family are forced to postpone their trip to Metropolis for Vivian Falcone's funeral. And with one Falcone dead, the Maronis want to finish the job.