disclaimer: i do not own batman, only my character charlie.
authors note: well it certainly had been a while.. anyways i was watching the dark knight today and i was like, holy shit, i have all these ppl reviewing my work and i'm not updating.. not very cool. So I got inspired and I know how the story is going to end.. so sit back and enjoy the ride..
----------------{2 Years Later}------------------
Ah, Metropolis. A state-of-the-art mind-blowing feat. The skyscrapers still intimidated Charlie, though. She stood in the window of her small apartment, enjoying expensive cigarettes and strong coffee. Seventeen years old, Charlie had not seen her father, the Joker, in two long years. Oh, it had hurt at first. She had cried and sobbed alone, nearly died under the weight of the guilt and grief. After she had escaped Wayne's watchful eye she had fled the city almost immediately. She remembered the day very vividly-- leaving the hotel washroom and exiting into the early morning, the air reeking of pollution and lost souls. As she stood outside there, hands shoved in her pockets, she knew. Knew very clearly that if she did not leave, she was going to die. Either by another's hand, but most likely her own, she was going to die.
So, she had panhandled for several hours, earning enough to get a subway ticket straight to Metropolis. She thought of her father everyday. Living on the streets for several months, she got into a homeless shelter and landed a job as a waitress at a small, quiet cafe in the calmest part of Metropolis. She stayed out of crime and did not affiliate with criminals. She watched her father's saga from the papers. After she had gone missing he had disappeared from his Arkham cell, leaving a trail of blood and carnage. Gotham suffered terribly. The joke wasn't funny anymore. She missed him. Oh Lord, she missed him. For a long time, it felt like a part of her was missing.
She clung to his memories, their experiences together, but eventually... his voice faded from her mind, replaced by a voice on the radio, or the TV. Eventually, his face faded as well. Now she only knew a mere shadow of the father she once had, and everytime her mind wondered to her past, her heart panged bitterly and she dropped the thoughts quickly. She turned from the window, looking over at her small, but comfortably established apartment. She lived in Slunty Springs Apartment Cp, a weird name but whatever, you can't have everything. God, had it been hard hiding from Wayne. A few times, she thought he almost had her-- but she drastically changed her appearance, the best she could.
What was once shoulder-length, chestnut brown hair had been dyed black, and stretched down her back, and she kept its natural wave. She had taken up tanning on the beach, and she had grown quite dark. She had dropped her baggy, hand-me-down clothes and traded them for tighter, more prettier clothes, but still keeping to her violet-black colour scheme. It was one of the subconscious ways she kept tightly to her father. She had lost her gangly teenage awkwardness in the last year, and in her last few months of adolescence she had become stronger, slender, powerful-- her muscles filled out and she had the same wiry, sly frame as her father. She was the spitting image of him--without the make-up.
She walked over to her bed, untying her bath-robe. Time for work. It was seven-thirty in the morning. Her clothes were cleaned and pressed. She worked at Hypnotized, an extremely wealthy restaurant that was prestigious and almost religious to dine at, she had discovered. If she tried to give a shit, she could rack up over one hundred dollars in tips alone, in one night. Her pay was steady, and it kept food in her fridge, cigarettes in her purse, and nice clothes on her back. Even if the roof leaked sometimes, and the shower faucet sometimes spat shit instead of water-- it was managable. And she experienced true real happiness, and independence, for the first time in her mostly miserable life.
She got into the knee-length black pencil skirt, the cream-coloured blouse and black feminine vest, braiding her hair in the mirror, letting it hang over her left shoulder. She did her makeup, grabbed her purse and bounced out the door, in a good mood this morning. She had slept good despite her neighbor's new 'friend'-- they had first drank what must have been a vat of whiskey, and they were literally screaming. But she had slept through it, and she awoke refreshed. She was a loner in Metropolis, but like it was any different in Gotham. She thrived on the independence. She did not even mind it when she saw young couples kissing in the park, or friends walking up the street together, laughing and sparkling in the sun.
Charlie stepped out onto the sidewalk, her heels clicking pleasantly. Summer was always beautiful here. The streets were packed, and she blended in perfectly with the other civilians. She didn't mind being shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers. She hopped to the curb and flagged down a yellow taxi, and as soon as one pulled into the curb she jumped into the back. "Where ya going, honey?" an aging Italian man was behind the wheel.
"Hypnotized, the restaurant. Baltimore and Gertrude avenue, if you don't mind."
"Not at all." he kicked the car into drive and they pulled into the steady stream of jacket. The route was fast and simple and clean, and five minutes later she handed the cabby a ten dollar bill and told him to keep the change. "Thank you sweetheart!" he said happily, tucking it into his safe box at the base of the gear stick. Charlie pulled open the door and entered the restaurant, smiling at Trixie, the other waitress and the closest thing she had you could call a friend here, and to Mark, the owner.
"Mornin', doll." Mark said, hanging Charlie her apron. The high-class restaurant was half full with mostly elderly, well-dressed or in widowy dressing. A few tourists sat in booths by the windows, reading the Metropolis Times under the mellow lighting. The checkered floor was spotless and squeaked when you walked across it; not a speck of dust to be seen. The air was fragmented with ginger and other earthly herbs. Charlie loved this place. Adored it, even. She could spend her whole life here.
She walked into the back to put her purse away, and the first thing she was the paper sitting on the employee's coffee-break table. What she saw on the headline made her blood run cold.
JOKER ON THE RAMPAGE-- GOTHAM IN A PANIC!
Where is Batman? Where is Joker's offspring?
Gotham was placed in a state of panic early last night, after an unscheduled broadcast that was limited only to the people of Gotham City. The Joker, Gotham's most dangerous and infamous terrorist, arrived on the scene of the ruins of Gotham County Orphanage, which was never repaired due to death-threats from said clown. He had been holding a young girl, approximately 17 years old, hostage for at least eighteen hours. She appeared badly injured. "It was quite a disturbing sight," Long-time crime fighting veteran Commisioner Jim Gordon comments, looking weary from a long search and stake-out, only to prove that the Joker had foiled them once again, re-appearing in a location at least ten miles away.
He only had one request. From an unnamed source we recovered his demands: "If my darling daughter is not returned to me within forty-eight hours of this broadcast, I am going to blow up the entire subway system of Gotham city. You should all know that I will always find a way to laugh... and if by then she has not been returned to me, I will start to murder every single teenaged female in Gotham in the most... TERRIFIC ways. Toodles!"
Bruce Wayne, previous guardian of the Joker's only child, has reluctantly released a picture of Charlie, the only name she had went by. No other family, friend or persons besides Wayne and the Joker have a clear idea of who she is. A picture of her is beneath:
And there, Charlie saw with a sickening lurch, was her picture. Back when she was fifteen. It must have been taken by a photographer when she wasn't looking-- her face turned slightly to the left, eyes wide and afraid, hunched over and uncomfortable. Wayne's hand was on her shoulder. He was leading her to the car. A wave of vertigo dropped over her and her hands began to shake. She forced herself to continue.
If anyone has any information on her whereabouts, please contact Gotham MCU at 1-353-556-3454. The FBI, CIA and both the Gotham and Metropolitan police--
Charlie was out the door.
--------------------
Sitting on the train, Charlie was a ball of nerves. She had only ran to her apartment to change fast, had flushed the key down the toilet and burned all of her records-- ID, papers, lease forms, everything. Charlotte Cooper ceased to exist. Charlie pulled out whatever money was left in her account, and hopped on the first train to Gotham, sitting in the back alone, staring out the window. Her excellent mood had faded. Now she was terrified. Why was he doing this? Couldn't he just come look for her himself?! Why was he drawing her back to him? Why was she even returning? She knew-- better then anyone-- that the Joker was a man of his word. He had not heard what happened to his hostage, but she was sure it was not pleasant.
People were going to die, unless she returned. Her hands twitched nervously in her lap, her fingers twisting and twining together. She felt like she was going to cry. All the guilt, shame and fear she had buried suddenly rose up like a tidal wave, threatening to collapse her frail state of mind. She had worked so fucking hard to get here, to accomplish her own job, earn a living, raise herself, all by herself-- and now she was being dragged back to the one man who had ruined it all.
And still-- she wanted to go back. She missed him. She loved him. He was her father.
Always.
Two hours later, she was getting off at Gotham Central Train station. She stood for a moment, taking in the old scent, the old surroundings. It was like stepping back in time. She hefted her purse higher up her shoulder, and slowly let her hair down, letting it fall down her back. The knot it had been in was making her head hurt. She needed to think.
There was only one place where he could be. Only one.
She started walking towards Gotham central street.
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