XI.

Light & Plastic

"So you haven't seen her?"

John asked quizzically the old homeless man who lay sprawled out before him, underneath the underpass marinating in booze and what had to be mostly his own urine. He curled his nose as his pen hovered over his notepad. Raising his eyebrows, John pressed snappishly,

"Well?"

"Eh?" The vagrant hiccupped uncomprehendingly, his moustache twitching.

Sighing, John flipped his notepad closed and nodded,

"Thank you for your time." He snapped sarcastically as the man nodded and saluted him with his drink.

"You're very welcome, officer. Any time."

John shook his head and stalked back over to his squad car. He was worried, more worried than he'd even allowed his own self to believe. Lily had been missing for over a month now; John was frightened that he'd need to start searching morgues.

He'd looked everywhere on a rotation almost. The hostels, bus stations, underpasses, half-way houses, alleyways, garages and burnt-out buildings that Lily was known to haunt. Nothing. John had to hand it to Lily, when she disappeared; she always did it right. For a girl with no means, she certainly knew how to vanish into thin air; in theory, that's probably why she was able to drop off the map so easily; no one really cared what she got up to.

When that thought struck him; John felt a pang of guilt. He should have stayed with her at Gotham General, he beat himself up. He should have made sure; he should have known that Lil was only going along to the hospital to keep him happy and the minute his back was turned; she'd be off, refusing any help. He shook his head and gripped the wheel of his car and thought furiously; as he always did when it came to Lily, why was she so dead-set against relying on anybody? She was homeless, penniless and sick; she needed people.

She'd needed him and he'd left that night. John sighed and pressed his head against the wheel. What had he done? He was so anxious that he'd get a call through his radio and it'd be the mort guys telling him that a body had been found matching her description and that he needed to come down to the morgue and identify her. She had looked so grey, so very ill and so sickly when he'd left her; she was scared too, terrified of the tubes and everything and John had ran out. Abandoned her. Like he always did.

No.

John thought heavily, his head jerking up from the wheel. Gripping it, he slammed his foot down and ripped back the clutch, he wasn't going to think like this anymore, he was driving himself mad thinking about how he'd failed Lily. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it as he pulled out of the underpass and back onto the road. Glancing over, his eyes fell on a map of Gotham sprawled out on the passenger seat; all the sewers entrances and exits were marked in red marker. John frowned; he just had to make sense of all...this. What had that slippery weasel, Daggett been up to? John had no idea, but it involved his construction workers and the sewers; he'd managed to pull massive grants to get the whole network renovated. That coupled with what the Commissioner said he saw down below made John shudder.

At least Batman was back on the scene now, John consoled himself. They needed the Bat more than ever now. If what lurked beneath really did lurk, then the people of Gotham would need Bruce Wayne before the end. John still couldn't believe that Bruce Wayne was Batman, but it made sense. To himself at any rate. He could identify with the millionaire orphan more so than he could with the subdued vigilante; although, John did wish he had more wiggle-room in his job, more-so-like a vigilante. He understood why Bruce did what he did.

He just hoped that they'd be able to work this mess out before Gotham was to fall victim to Bane and his plans. Whatever they may be. His mind wandered as he was driving back, always back, like it always did, to Lily. John clicked his tongue as he turned a loose corner and his own frown deepened,

"I'll find you, Lil...No frets."

He nodded slightly, then with a saddened sigh; turned in at one of the local hospitals. He had to know if she'd been handed in anywhere. Dead or alive.


Lily breathed a sigh of relief when Barsad strode past her and didn't stop. The others around the place were beginning to get a little snippy about his speaking to her; but in Lily's defence, she never instigated it. She couldn't stand him. Turning, she felt the eyes of one of the workers on her; she shivered, they had been talking about her. She'd heard them say things about her pertaining to Bane. They were all just as baffled as she was as to why she was given special preference by the big boss man and his second-in-command. Lily ignored their stares and hushed hisses. She just concentrated on the ceiling most of the time.

She hung over the side of the railing that overlooked the huge aqueduct that fed into the main outflow; it was like a massive man-made waterfall. Lily always gazed past that up to the dark yawning ceiling which the surface presumably ebbed above. Lily couldn't wait to get out of this damp, mossy hell below. Whilst she was leaning over daydreaming, ignoring everyone else around her and unwilling to do any work; she felt a hand grip her coat at the shoulder and pull her back. She started and made a weak attempt to punch her attacker – her strength was not fully regained, so it was a feeble attempt at defence indeed.

The girl stopped short anyway when she saw that it was Barsad. His hawkish face was hard and unsmiling;

"Get back. Go to your room."

His tone cut through her initial annoyance at his rough-housing. Shaking her head uncomprehendingly, she garbled,

"Bars-hey, what?!"

He gripped her closer, his features lost their angry edge and he whispered urgently,

"I'm telling you. Now. Go back to your room."

She had heard that urgency before. Lily stared dumbly, blankly up at him. She had definitely heard that ring in someone's tone before, but where she could not quite fathom. Nodding slowly, Barsad bobbed his head along with her and peered down into the complex furtively. It was then that Lily realised that the place was strangely quiet, it was almost ethereal. Barsad gnashed his teeth and glanced up,

"Too late..." He sighed.

Lily followed his eyes upwards; she was momentarily blinded by the floodlights that shone above. The strain on her neck, pressing against her throat as she looked up made her cough. She stifled it as she beheld two figures alone on one of the catwalks. She gasped and felt Barsad's grip on her loosen as they watched a titanic show down begin; the Batman and Bane were both atop that suspended walkway.

"What's happening, Barsad?" Lily whispered her voice barely above the rushing water.

When he didn't answer, she looked to him and heard grunting coming from the catwalk. It took every ounce of self-restraint not to turn back. She watched as Barsad grinned and eyed her briefly,

"History, souris. A great chapter of Gotham's history."

Lily frowned and shook her head mute and Barsad nodded past her and she turned back just in time to see the Batman be thrown off the catwalk by a gigantean Bane. Lily gasped when the Dark Knight struck a vat and then bounced from that and slammed down onto the wet floor she watched the big man, Bane; scuttle down a chain -amazingly nimble - to join the Bat on the ground.

"He's dead." Barsad commented behind her.

Without realising it, Lily was nodding along vacantly.

"I suppose he is."

She uttered quietly as she observed Bane prowl around the Bat; their showdown far from over.