CHAPTER 12

In the days and weeks following the "radio incident", as he had come to think of it, Jonathan Crane kept a close eye on his wife.

On some levels he was reassured. Katie was fairly calm and rational now. There had been no repeat of the scene on the terrace. She wasn't spending her days in bed anymore, and she wasn't sneaking into his office for amphetamines. She was refusing all medication, actually, even her regular antidepressants and tranquilizers. She said she needed her mind clear.

But the familiar lethargy and depression had been replaced by paranoia. She had become obsessed with the idea that Jack Napier had returned. She wouldn't leave the house, and she would barely let Lily out of her sight. In the month since the incident she had left the house only once, for the birth of Lexi's son. Once little Eric Thaddeus Marshall had arrived safely into the world, she had returned straight home, and there she had been ever since. She had never gone out much, but she had made the occasional visit to Wayne Manor or to the Marshalls'. These sorties stopped entirely now. If Alfred or Lexi wanted to see Katie or Lily, they came to the Cranes' house to do it. And they did; Alfred almost every day, and Lexi as much as she could. It was especially hard for Lexi, recovering from childbirth and caring for a newborn, but she still managed to come at least once or twice a week. She was worried about Katie. They all were. They hadn't seen her in this state in…well, a long time. No one wanted to reflect on when that time had been.

At least Lily was happy. Katie was spending every waking moment with her. And she was trying her hardest to maintain a normal façade around her, so the little girl was unaware that anything was wrong. All she knew was that her mother was with her all the time, her constant playmate, and she was on cloud nine. The only downside was that her mommy didn't want to go anywhere, and she didn't want Lily to go anywhere either. But Lily didn't mind so much. She missed going to Wayne Manor and swimming in the pool, and she missed her outings with Mrs. Travers to the zoo and the library, but it was worth it to have her mother's undivided attention. Mommy, unlike most other grownups, was fun. She would get right down and play with Lily just like she was a kid herself. It was almost like having a sister.

For her part, Katie felt like she was reliving her childhood whenever she was with her daughter. Thoughts of Jack still lurked in her mind, haunting most of her waking moments and all of her sleeping ones. The nightmares had increased in force and frequency, and Jonathan was sleeping in the guest room most nights. She knew he thought she was losing her mind, but he was being patient so far, letting things rock along as they were.

Although Jack was constantly on her mind, while she was with Lily she managed to hold those thoughts at bay. Truth be told, Katie enjoyed this time with Lily even more than Lily did. She felt safe, somehow, with her daughter, as they played dolls in the playroom or as they snuggled on her bed reading. Lily adored being read to, and Katie was sure the day wasn't long in coming before the little girl was reading for herself. It wasn't so preposterous. Everyone said she was advanced for her age, even Jonathan, who should know. Katie herself had read at four. She vaguely remembered sitting on the kitchen floor reading Goodnight Moon to her mother, and receiving a pat on the head and a distracted "That's good, honey, but quiet down a little. I don't want to wake your daddy."

She thought of her childhood a lot these days. It surprised her to realize that her early years had been a lot like Jack's. There was never enough money. They moved from shabby apartment to shabby apartment as her father bounced from job to job. Thomas Wayne had offered to send money countless times, she had learned later, but James Wayne had refused. "I don't need your damn crumbs," he had told his brother. Her father had been an alcoholic, she knew now. He was an unpredictable drunk; when he was in his cups he might hug you or backhand you. Her mother had always seemed so tired, so old and beaten down. Katie was stunned when it occurred to her that Tracy Wayne had been only a few years older than she was now. Living with an abusive alcoholic husband had aged her considerably. Tracy rarely drank herself, but when she did she had a temper that put her husband's in the shade. It had been that temper that ended their lives.

Yes, there were some uncanny similarities. Katie wondered what she would have been like if her parents hadn't died, if she had grown up with them. Would she have been like Jack—so ruthlessly determined to get out of that life, so hell-bent on revenge on those who wronged him that it eventually shattered his mind? Maybe not. It seemed to her now that the darkness in Jack was a thing of the blood, and would have come out no matter what his upbringing had been. That frightened her, for she was no stranger to the darkness of the mind herself. She supposed it had always been in her, just as it had in Jack, and it had been Jack who called it forth. It was a different sort of darkness, one that turned itself inward instead of outward, but just as destructive in its own way. She had battled it for years, but what if the day came when she couldn't fight it any longer? What if the darkness just swallowed her one day? What would become of her then? What would become of Lily?

She wouldn't let herself think about the worst possibility of all: what if Lily had inherited the darkness? Ridiculous, her rational mind argued. Lily was a happy child, always smiling, affectionate. But still, she wasn't much more than a baby now. The darkness could come later. And when—if—it did, what form would it take? Would Lily inherit her mother's despair…or her (probable) father's madness?

Katie wouldn't let herself dwell on these thoughts. She concentrated instead on the reasons Lily wouldn't develop the darkness: her stable, privileged upbringing (for she believed that upbringing did play a role in it to some extent). Her sunny nature. Her empathy and compassion for others—young as she was, she had already grasped the concept that others had feelings just as she did. Yes, the odds were that Lily would be just fine.

She hoped.

--

Katie and Lily were playing dress-up on the day of the next death.

"Mrs. Crane," Emma said from the doorway of the playroom, "you have a phone call."

Katie was busy adjusting her wide-brimmed straw hat bedecked with fake roses. She and Lily were preparing for a tea party. "Who is it, Emma?" she said without turning around. She figured it was Lexi, calling to ask a question about infant care or to tell her something remarkable baby Eric had done. The other day she had called with the exciting news that Eric was kicking his legs and blowing spit bubbles. Katie smiled indulgently, preparing to be amazed at the baby's latest accomplishments. She knew she'd been the same way.

Emma's answer caught her by surprise. "It's a gentleman. He wouldn't give me his name, but he said it was urgent he talk to you."

"Probably a damn telemarketer," Katie sighed. She turned to Lily. "Mommy will be right back. Emma, will you stay with her?" She didn't like to leave Lily alone, even for a few seconds. You just never knew what might happen.

In the living room she lifted the phone from the receiver. "This is Katie," she said, crisply and a little impatiently.

"Katie, Katie, Katie Wayne," rasped a voice in her ear. "Or Katie Crane I hear it is now. How've you been, sweet cheeks?"

Katie's heart began to pound. "Who is this?" she managed to ask. But she already knew, even before he answered.

"You mean you don't remember me?" The voice that had haunted her nightmares sounded hurt, but she could hear the laughter underneath. "Why, Katie, I'm hurt! We had so much, hm, fun together! More fun than you've ever had with the Scarecrow, I'll bet. Tell me, how's he doing? And how's that be-yoo-tee-ful little girl of yours?"

Katie's blood turned to ice water. Her vision swam. She grabbed the phone table for support; she was sure she was going to faint. Oh God, he was back. And he knew about Lily. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled croak.

"Cat got your tongue?"Jack—Joker—whatever the hell he was calling himself these days giggled. "Well, Katie-did, I'd love to chat awhile and reminisce about old times, but I have to get to the purpose of my call. Y'see, I've got an old friend of ours here, and he's just dying to speak with you?" The giggle skidded into that maniacal laugh she remembered so well. "Alex, say hello."

"Katie!" She wouldn't have known him if she hadn't heard the name. Alex Martinez's voice was as crazed and high-pitched as Jack's, but Katie could tell it was from fear.

"Alex!" she gasped. "Alex, oh my God, are you all right? Where are you? What's going on?"

"Katie, you've got to get away!" Alex screamed. "You've got to get out of Gotham! You've got to hide somewhere! Jack—he's crazy! He's completely fucking insane! You wouldn't believe what he looks like now—"

She heard Jack in the background. "I'm not insane. No, I'm no-t. You're definitely gonna die for that little remark, hombre."

"He's going to kill me, Katie!" shrieked her old friend. "He's going to kill us all! He says he's going to take out everyone who ever knew him as Jack Napier! He—oh, Christ, he already got his parents! His own fucking parents! He showed me pictures! Oh, Jesus—" He began to sob.

"Ah, ta-ta-ta-ta," Jack was back on the line. "You'll have to excuse Alex, he's getting a little—emotional here. I'd tell you not to believe a word he says, but you see, it's true. E-ver-y bi-t. I am fixing to kill our old buddy Alex, and then I am coming for all of our other old pals—Darren, Lexi, Thad, even dear old Alfred."

Katie struggled against a wave of nausea. "No," she whispered. "You can't do this."

"Oh, but I can," he gleefully informed her. "And I am. And I will. But don't worry, Katie-did. I'm saving you and your cute little family for last. You'll get to watch ev-ery-one you care about bite the dust before it's your turn—unless, of course, they manage to catch me first. But I wouldn't coun-t on that."

Katie was gripping the table so hard her knuckles were white. Her heart was slamming against her ribcage. Any minute she expected it to burst right through her chest. She kind of hoped it would. Maybe if she was gone, he would leave her family alone.

"Oh, and Katie?" Jack sing-songed. "Alex was wrong about one thing. There's no point in hiding. You can't get away. I have ways of finding you. I will al-ways find you." She heard a scuffle, then Alex's ragged breathing again. "Say good-bye, Alex."

"KATIE! KATIE, BE CAREFUL! YOU'VE GOT TO WARN EVERY—"

There was a deafening noise. She knew it was a gunshot. She slid to the floor and began to retch into the Persian carpet, the receiver still clasped in her hand.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, Katie-did," Jack growled. "You can go out and try to warn everyone if you want. See where it gets you. Word on the street is you're not much more than a raving lunatic yourself these days. But maybe they'll believe you—not that it'll do 'em any good-uh."

"Jack," she moaned, her stomach still roiling. "Jack, please—"

"I told you," he snapped, and there was anger in his voice for the first time, "Jack is dead!" And with that the line went dead.

Mercifully, Katie lost consciousness then. She didn't hear Emma calling for her. She didn't hear Emma's shriek when she found her. She didn't hear any of the commotion that followed. When she awoke, she was in her own darkened bedroom, her husband at her side.

She bolted upright. "Jonathan!" she gasped.

He had a hold of her in an instant. "Shhh," he soothed. "Hush now, Katie. It's going to be all right." In the dim light she saw the gleam of the needle.

"NO!" she shrieked, struggling against him. "No, damn you—no—no—"

She fought as hard as she could, but she was still weak, and he was stronger than he looked. She let out a wail as she felt the needle pierce her skin.

Within seconds she had lapsed back into unconsciousness. Jonathan gazed down at his wife. His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. "Oh, Katie," he said sadly.

Then he went to call Arkham.

A/N: I'm baaack! I didn't think the writer's block would ever lift…but I knew if it did, it would be when TDK finally came out on DVD. Happily, that turned out to be the case. I'm a little rusty, so this chapter is kind of short and not quite what I wanted it to be—but hey, it's here! I'm pretty sure I know where it's going now. I want to give a shout-out to Sakura. and, I believe, ImmatureEvil (I lost the email but I'm pretty sure that's who it was) for the suggestions. Well, I have a family Christmas gathering tomorrow so I'd better get on to bed, but don't worry, I'll update again soon. Methinks I'm on a roll again.