Brooke looked up into the eyes of the villains. They had finally won, she knew. She almost laughed when she thought of the shock people would get when they took of her mask. Who would've guessed that Batman was really Batgirl?
Two years ago Brooke Wayne had come back from the dead. Really she'd just been on an extended "world tour" for seven years. So at twenty-six years of age, she would die. When she came back she saw the horrible state that her beloved Gotham City was in and quickly devised a plan to help save the city her parents had worked so hard to, in all honesty, take care of.
Originally she was Batgirl, but when people started to assume that she was in fact Batman (of course a woman couldn't do this kind of work, it simply did not happen), well who was she to correct them? Besides, no one would ever suspect "poor little orphan Brooke" to be the fearless masked hero of Gotham City. It wasn't her fault that it was easier to stay protected with her armor looking like this. Besides, the whole point was to apprehend the villains. Not seduce them with overly large breasts and an outfit that was painted on.
The first time she'd gone out she hadn't spoken. Simply caught a guy and gave him to the police to deal with, so when the headlines the next morning reported her as "Mysterious Batman Apprehends Potential Rapist" she had a voice disguiser made. And so Batman was formed.
The Joker laughed his maniacal high pitched laugh as the Scarecrow and the Penguin jerked the armor of her suit around. It was a stupid mistake, but she supposed that was how all the great leaders of the world fell. Stupid Mistakes. She'd tripped over a loose rope and because of the pulled knee she'd gotten doing exercises the night before, which should have been fine, it had taken her a second longer to get up. But the Joker only needed that one second. So now here she was, on her knees in front of the Joker with nearly all of Gotham City watching live anxiously- one of the Joker's sick jokes. She winced as she was kicked in the side by the Riddler and sprawled to the floor. The Joker laughed louder.
She probably could have gotten away at first. But a thought stopped her right as she was about to elbow one of the captors in the groin. Why should she? Why should she try to fight anymore? What purpose did it have? What did she ever get in return from the people she helped- even when she wasn't playing hero in the night? A simple thank you? Rarely. An Award (not that she wanted one)? Never (of course they would probably have to know who she was to give it to her).
Maybe it would be better if she died. Evil physcopaths would stop coming after Gotham just to get her. She could see her parents. Her parents- it'd been a while since she thought about them. She remembered why she started Batman in the first place- for her parents. For their memory.
But it was too late now. Apparently even villains learn from their mistakes. So now here she was. Surrounded by all the people who hated her with a passion. Some might even say an obsession. The Joker had his knife with him. He'd always been her main nemesis. It was only fitting he got the honors of killing her.
"Now, let's see who's really behind that mask." He laughed. Two-Face, or Harvey Dent, stepped on the upper half of her torso; pushing her down as she tried to get up. This caused them all to laugh. But Brook really didn't care anymore. She was too tired. Physically, mentally. She just wanted it all to end now.
None the less, she still flinched as her old friend (before he became a malicious murder that is) pulled up her head by the neck. The Joker kneeled down in front of her and smirked. He leaned in closed to her ear and whispered hoarsely,
"I told you I'd be your down fall." And then he ripped the head of her costume- mask and all-off, and her brunette hair to tumble down onto her shoulders.
She heard a few gasps of shock and she was sure that there were many more around the city of Gotham. Slowly she looked up at the Joker who was no longer laughing. His permanent smile turned in a half frown. She looked up and around at all those who were gathered there. None of them were smiling now.
She supposed it was funny as she looked at the faces of her captors that they were all male. She was glad that they would know they'd been beaten by her before she died. That they would be disgraced in the upmost way- cause let's face it, girls weren't superheroes. Especially rich girls. It just wasn't done.
She saw the faces of The Penguin, The Riddler, The Scarecrow, The Joker, and many, many others- mostly random gang members she'd put away and mobsters. She stared each of them in the eye. She was afraid, yes, but not of death. You couldn't be afraid of death in her "work"; she was instead scared of leaving the city unprotected. She was sure that Gordon could take care of it for now, but pretty soon another physcopath would rise up. And that is why she left a list of potential people- actual men this time- who she thought were up for the job.
She reached the face of her ex-best friend and winced again. His eyes scared her. She saw many emotions flash through them. Shock. Pain. Hurt. Betrayal. Denial.
"Harv-" she tried. Right now he wasn't Two Face. At this moment he was Harvey Dent- Former DA, Gotham's own White Knight, and her old best friend.
"No." he cut her off.
"You don't-" she tried again but he just laughed. It was a cold laugh and it scared her.
"Understand? Tell me what I don't understand, Brooklyn?" he used her first name. "I think I understand that my own friend never told me she was masquerading around as a bat that saves people? I think I understand that you broke the promise that we made to tell each other everything! Well I think this is a big something! I think I understand that my best friend killed my fiancée, her other best friend!" his chest heaved angrily. Brooke was hurt by his accusations.
"Why didn't you save Rach? Huh? Why'd you choose to save me over her?! I know you were closer to her then me! Why'd you let her die?!" Harvey roared. No one else was in the room- or so it seemed. At hearing her once upon a time friend accuse her of killing her best friend she snapped. She didn't know at what point she had stood up, but suddenly she found herself on her feet, an inch away from Harvey.
"Who says I chose you!" Harvey, who'd been about to yell some more, stopped. "Who says I didn't choose Rachel?! How do you know it wasn't some sick joke?! I wanted to save her! It was as hard as hell to choose between my two best friends! And I came so close to choosing you! But I let my heart decide, and chose my best friend since childhood. The girl who'd been by my side through my whole life. Not you. I did choose Rachel! But when I got to the address, I found you, not my best friend!" she laughed bitterly.
"I guess it would have been better to choose you. If I'd chosen you, then I might not be here. I'd probably be at home with Rachel, crying with her over your dead body, because I know that Rachel wouldn't have become this- this monster!" she stopped to breath, her chest heaving and tears threatening to fall. But no, she refused to cry in front of them.
"Of course I was closer to Rachel! Why wouldn't I be?! For God's sake, I knew her since we were children! But you know, when I saw you sitting in that damn chair, and I heard Rachel, my best fucking friend, get blown up, I cried, yeah, but then I thought that maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was better that Gotham's White Knight had survived. I thought of the people of the city my parents worked so hard to build up, and I didn't think of myself. I thought of them and the good you could have done." She felt a wetness on her cheeks, she had failed to keep the tears in check and now they ran freely down her face. "I guess I was wrong." She whispered the last sentence.
For awhile there was silence, then:"Brooke, I didn't know." She looked up to his face, he looked sorry. But she knew it was only because he found out who the true Batman was. "I'm sorry." She just looked up at him (he being a good few inches taller than her) with sorrowful eyes. She knew they wouldn't- couldn't be friends ever again. She knew that there were still people who wanted to murder her in cold blood in the room and she knew she wouldn't be walking out of here alive.
"I know Harvey, I know." She whispered
She heard a laugh again, but this time it wasn't from Harvey. She turned slowly on her heel. The Joker threw his head back and laughed.
"Oh isn't this just precious? Looks like little Batboy is really little Batgirl! Looks he- or maybe I should say she- was playing a joke on us the whole time! And here I thought she didn't have a sense of humor! Hahaha! And look; now she's crying! Ohh! This day just keeps getting better and better!" He laughed. Slowly, the others joined in. Except Harvey. Both of them knew what this outcome would be. And he wanted no part in the killing of a friend, no matter how messed up their relationship was.
The Joker suddenly lunged towards her, grabbing her by her long hair and shoved her up to the camera.
"Look at your almighty hero now Gotham! A little girl! Are you really so weak that you would settle for a spoiled little rich girl?" he cackled evilly. Outside she could hear the police, but she knew it was to late.
"And how many times has this little rich girl stopped you, huh Joker?" she looked around the room, "All of you?" She said. She wouldn't go down without a fight. The Joker stopped laughing and threw her to the ground.
"Bitch," he spat at her and stepped back. "Let's see how well the little girl can handle her own medicine. Take it away boys." He stepped back to let the others have their 'moments'.
Brooke took a breath and out of the corner of her eye she felt a brief pang of hurt in her chest as she saw Harvey walk out the doors, but she knew he'd only get hurt or worse die, if he tried to help her.
She barley had any time to react before a knife came spinning at her through the air. She ducked out of the way, but not before it nicked her leg, causing a shallow cut to appear. She hissed sharply from the pain, glaring at The Riddler who'd thrown it. But she barely had time to recover before she was punched in the side.
Brooke got up and caught the kick coming her way. She tried her best, she really did, but there were so many of them. It was impossible to catch every kick, every punch, every knife thrown her way. And with each blow her stamina weakened. After half an hour someone finally caught her arms behind her back. She tried to struggle, weakly, but a sharp slap to her face caused her sink lowly to her knees. For a second time that night, Brooke Wayne found herself at the feet of an enemy.
Her hair had fallen out of the braid and now the long brunette curls fell down her shoulders; the layers framed her face and she weakly attempted to shake them out of her eyes. Her eyelids started to droop. There was so much pain and all a part of her wanted to do was slip into the inviting blackness. But the other part of her fought to hold on. She wouldn't die weak. She would fight till the end. She would face death with confidence, not cowardice.
She put on a face of defiance and lifted her head. The Joker laughed at her once more and walked in circles around her.
"I can see it in your eyes, Brooklyn Wayne. You want to die, don't you?" Her head was spinning and she couldn't concentrate on him when he was circling around her. He knelt down on a knee in front of her, a silver pocket knife open in front of him. He pressed the cool blade to her throat, very lightly though, almost like a feather touch.
"You want it all to be over, don't you? You're tired of fighting for a city that never thanks you, aren't you? I could end it all right now, Brooklyn." He pressed the knife harder to her throat and she flinched away instinctively. The Joker laughed again.
"You're going to die now, Brooklyn. You know it, I know it, we all know it. Tonight will be the night that the famous Batman comes to an end. And I will be the one to end him."
"You're wrong." She whispered hoarsely. "Batman will never end. He is a symbol of hope. And as long as there is hope there is Batman. As long as there are people who believe in the right you'll never win. As long as there is one person out there who refuses to give up, Batman won't vanish. His memory will live on; he'll become a legend that parents tell their children before they sleep. I may die, but Batman's memory won't." The Joker laughed.
"You really believe that? Are you so delusional that you think these people depend on you so much that you'll always be remembered? Ha!"
That darkness was closing in on her. She wanted so badly to fade away peacefully. It was like she could almost hear the voices of her lost parents calling her to them. She could practically smell the homemade cookies her mother was famous for and the rich smell of cigars that her father had smoked. She wanted to join her family.
"I'm going to kill you now little Brooklyn." The hot stench of his breath filled her ear. "And there is nothing you can do to stop it. This is how Gotham will remember her precious hero. Just a little girl playing dress up." He stood up and pulled a long knife out of his vest.
The irony that it was the very knife that he'd stabbed her with the very first time they'd battled was not lost on her. The Joker lunged forward with a mixture of malice, revenge, and almost regret.
In her last moments of life Brooke looked back over her life. She knew that her parents would have been proud of her, she certainly was of herself. As she slowly bled out, staring at the concrete ceiling, she allowed herself a small peaceful smile and let her mind think of happy memories, of sweeter times. Brooklyn Samantha Wayne died that night, a smile on her face, peaceful look in her eyes, and knowing that her story, her legacy would be one to last forever.
A/N Depressing I know, but I just couldn't get the stupid plot out of my head. I may or may not do a background story where it tells her life from Batman Begins till this, I don't really know. Maybe I'll do an epilogue too. Sorry if I made you cry or sad!