Again, I own nothing except the plot. Enjoy!
"How did you know?" Mom asks.
"He blew up a hospital like two days ago," I shrug. "It was one of the top headlines on Google News."
"You read the news?" My mom is surprised, and I don't blame her. I usually avoid it, unless it's celebrity news, but after all that's happened, I decided that I should be a little more aware of what's going on elsewhere, instead of just this Rosewood bubble I live in.
"Not really, I just happened to see it on the front page," I answer her.
"But going back to what I was saying, yes, he was the Joker," she continues. "When I came to Rosewood I had absolutely nothing. Then Tom came along, while I was about six months pregnant with you, and we hit it off. We married shortly after you were born, and he adopted you, hence your name: Hanna Lindsey Marin."
I nod, processing what my mom just told me. I guess it explains a lot, like why I don't really look like him and why I have a temper sometimes. It's weird, though, not calling Tom "Dad" anymore. And after her story about the Joker, this may sound really crazy, but I kinda want to meet him. He might be a murdering psychopath, but he's still my dad, and I want to get to know him. If he loved my mom as much as my mom says he did, I don't think he'll hurt me. And I bet, deep down, underneath all that ridiculous make-up and greasy hair, there's still some kindness left in him. There has to be.
"Mom," I break the silence.
"Yes, sweetie?"
"What if I told you…I wanted to meet the Joker?"
My mom doesn't like the idea of this; I can tell from her face. "Honey, it's not that I don't want you to meet him, it's just, there's no knowing what he'd do to you. I'm not sure where his mind is nowadays. He's in his own little world."
"Think about it," I say, suddenly excited. "I need a break from Rosewood; a change of environment. A summer in Gotham City? This is perfect, Mom!"
"So you want another psycho in your life?" my mom raises her eyebrows.
"Maybe he just needs a little love," I suggest. Whoa, did I just say that a murdering psychopath needs love? "I bet Jack – the guy you fell in love with – is still in there, somewhere."
"I don't know," she shakes her head. "I watched him go insane before my very eyes. I wish I could say I know him, but I don't. Not anymore."
"Please, Mom?"
She hesitates before placing her hand on mine. "Are you sure about this, Hanna?"
"Yes," I insist. "I'm positive."
She sighs. "You're seventeen, and in a year you'll be graduating high school. I trust that you're old enough to make this decision. If this is something you feel you should do, I won't stop you."
"Thank you, Mom!" I hug her, thanking her.
"But on one condition," she holds up her right index finger.
"Sure," I agree.
"You have to call me every day so that I know my baby girl is safe," she placed her hands on my shoulders.
"Aw, Mom!" I roll my eyes.
"This is the Joker we're talking about here," she reminds me. "Seventeen years ago, I might have trusted him, but I don't know how he is now." She pauses. "Pack your Louis Vuitton suitcase."
"You'll take me?" I light up.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," she smiles.
An hour and a half later, we're crossing the Robert Kane Memorial Bridge in our black Mercedes SUV. "Mom, where am I going to stay?" I ask.
"Your grandmother's," she simply answers. "You'll get to see where I grew up." She gives me a tight smile.
"I thought you said it's sketch," I raise my eyebrows.
"During the day it's…decent," she tells me. "But whatever you do, don't walk around alone at night. Not in the area where I grew up, anyway."
"Yeah definitely," I agree. "I'll just call a taxi if I end up spending the day at the mall, or something."
"Be careful about that," she warned. "The crime lords use taxis as a way to catch their next victims."
"Is there anywhere safe in this city?" I ask.
"Of course," she nods. "There's the nicer part of town, in the southern part of Gotham, where Wayne Enterprises is. I didn't spend a whole lot of time there myself, but there are lots of shopping areas around there, which I'm sure you're more than interested in."
"You know me too well," I giggle slightly.
She finally pulls up to a run-down looking brick building and parks her car at the curb. "Got everything?" she asks, gesturing to my 2 Louis Vuitton suitcases, plus my backpack filled with my cosmetics and bath stuff.
"I think so," I nod. "Are you going to come in?"
My mom turns. "Yes, I think I will."
She and I stand at the deep red door as I ring the doorbell.
About a minute later, a short, brunette sixty-year-old (give or take a few years) lady about my height answers the door.
"Can I help you?" she asks us.
"Mom, don't tell me you don't remember," my mom says.
The lady's blue eyes widen in shock. "Oh, Ashley!" she gives my mom a big hug. I grab my mom's keys, roll up the windows, and lock the car before following them in.
The old lady turns to me. "And who might this beautiful young lady be?"
"Mom," my mom gestures to me. "Meet Hanna Lindsey Marin, your granddaughter."
The old lady turns to me. "You look just like your mother," her eyes begin tearing up. "So beautiful."
"Thanks…" I smile politely, not sure what to call him.
"Call me Grammy," she says, as though she read my thoughts.
"Grammy," I repeat with an assuring nod.
"So what brings you back, after all these years?" she asks us, as she brings us some hot tea and scones. "You never told me you were pregnant, Ash," she adds, giving my mom a slight disapproving look.
"I was scared," my mom explains. "Especially with who the father is…or was."
Grammy suddenly looks up, realizing who my mom is referring to. "It can't be."
"That's why we came," my mom says, when I couldn't find the right words to say. "Hanna wants to know more about him."
Grammy looks away, and I could tell she wants to cry. "He was practically my son," she says quietly. "Such a quiet boy. But very polite, and nice too. To think he did that to his own father…it broke my heart. Now…he's a master of chaos." She shakes her head, and I can see a single tear going down his cheek.
"Mom says he lived next door to you guys?" I ask.
"Yes, yes, he did," she confirms.
"Does anyone still live there?"
She shakes her head. "Not since…the incident." I guess that's what they call it.
"Could I…take a look?" I ask hopefully.
"No," Grammy almost yells. "I won't lose you the way I almost lost your mother."
"I said I was sorry," I hear my mom's voice break.
"Sorry doesn't cut it," Grammy says, shaking her head vigorously. "Do you have any idea what went through my head all this time? I thought I lost my only daughter!"
"If you were a pregnant teenager with a child whose father was a murdering psychopath, what would you have done?" my mom thunders back. "What would you have done, Mom?"
"Enough," she stops my mom before she can yell at her more. "I'm just…I'm just so happy to see you." She sobs before hugging us both. "And I can't wait to get to know you better, Hanna."
"You too," I smile. "Grammy."
"I better get going," Mom says, checking her watch. "Remember everything I told you, okay? I'm only a phone call away, you know that."
"I know. I love you," I give her one last hug before she leaves.
"Take care," she says, "and good luck."
Thoughts?