All I know

Is heroes comes and villains go

Just give the lunatic a chance

And all I know

Is something out is something old

I'll never win, I'm just a man

But I don't care

-Black John by Stone Sour

The car came to a stop, the crunching of rock and gravel filling the air. The car door flung open and Zatanna climbed out, a small device in hand. Looking down at it, the device indicated that this was where Bruce was, a blue dot hovering over the city grid. Looking around, the dark-haired woman didn't know what to expect.

It was as if a smoky shroud had covered the city. The sky was blocked out and you couldn't see past a block down the street in either direction. It created a lonely, desolate feeling, as if this place hadn't known the touch of life in decades. She could barely make out the silhouette of a fire escape on the furthest building she could see.

Zatanna didn't like this place; everything was so...quiet. The only sound she could hear was her own breath and it was starting to disturb her. Turning her attention to the building in front of her car, she found it was fallen apart. She had no idea what the place used to be, except that it had been large. Part of its face was gone, a pile of debris just barely noticeable through a hole in the building. On one end of the building was what looked like some sort of tower or maybe a skyscraper. At least it had been; all that was left was what one could only call a half-finished structure.

Of course, the one thing that really caught the dark-haired woman's eye was the scorch marks. Obviously there had been a fire here and that was why this place was in ruin. Making sure her locator device was correct, Zatanna sucked in what was most likely a polluted breath of air and walked up to the building.

Finding a wide open doorway, its former steel door crumpled to either side of the entrance, Zatanna stepped through it and found a debris covered area, large piles of rock and pieces of cement scattered about the place. There was no ceiling and what used to be the backside of the building was gone, revealing more of the bleak sights of the city. There was a pile of rubble off to her left, right next to the destroyed tower thing; to her right was a still-standing portion of a wall.

Walking forward, Zatanna soon found herself heading towards the tower. All the while, a sinking feeling filled her stomach. A place like this didn't really scream SURVIVORS, which is what she was looking for. The longer she was here, the more she felt that something bad had happened to Bruce—why else would he still be in such a distraught-looking place? All sorts of scenarios filled her head, none of which she liked.

That's when she found it. Lying on the ground just in front of the large pile of debris was some sort of charred object. Standing over it, Zatanna tried to make sense of it. It was definitely burned and if she wasn't mistaken...melted? Kneeling down, she stared at it, trying to figure it out what exactly it was. It could've been anything at this point, you know, before it was dropped in a fire.

Glancing to her locator device, Zatanna pressed on a button to zoom in on her location. She did this once, twice, three times before she was practically right on top of her present location. A frown appeared on her face. If this thing was right, then this mystery object was where the locator chip of Bruce's was; this had to have been part of his bat suit at one time. Considering it was disregarded like this, Bruce must've ditched it at some point for whatever reason. So that meant he wasn't here. A feeling of relief welled up in the dark-haired woman. Bruce wasn't in this dump, thank God. That only left her the problem of finding him again. She could deal with that at the moment since it was better than the alternative.

Letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, Zatanna slowly stood up. Alright, where did she go now? If only there was some way to get in contact with the man, like a phone or a communicator…

Zatanna felt like slapping herself. Why hadn't she had brought one of the communication headsets from the cave? That could've helped in all of this. Ugh, now wasn't the time to cry over spilled milk, she had to—

That when she saw it: movement in the corner of her eye. Jerking her head, Zatanna saw it again and the sight of it caused her heart to drop. Not too far away, something black was flapping in the wind.

Before she knew it, the dark-haired woman was running as fast as she could. Legs pounding, heart beating, Zatanna was soon grabbing ahold of what she knew was a cape. Pulling on it as hard as she could, she heard rubble shift and rattle against other pieces until she successfully freed the cape.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips as Zatanna pulled the cloth up towards her until she reached an end. Hands clutching tightly, she stared in horror at half of the Bat mask, its edges singed by fire, its eye socket empty of its lifeless white lens. Jerking her head down, she stared at the ground, hoping against hope that this was just a piece, that there was a body, a still-living one preferably, where she had yanked out the cape. All she saw though, was the same ruined ground buried in rubble.

Whatever strength she had been running on abandoned the woman as her legs went limp and she dropped onto her knees. Trails of tears poured from her eyes as she frantically began to dig, shoving aside pieces of concrete in a desperate attempt to delve deeper into the ground. This wasn't right, it couldn't be right. He had to be alive! Yet, no matter how deep she dug, she found nothing, not even a charred bone. Sobs began seeping out of her mouth as the world around Zatanna began distant, realization dawning on her of her worst fears.

Still on her knees, she shifted away, turning her back on the hole she had made and coming to a complete stop when she saw the cape. Grabbing it, she pulled it onto her lap, her hands clutching tightly at the fabric. A torrent of tears poured from her eyes as her breathing picked up, mournful gasps choking her as she wept. Staring down, the only thing she could see was the empty, damaged cowl and her thoughts lingered on just what that meant.

"You two check the next street, I'll take this block," Gordon ordered, watching two of his unis nod and jog in the other direction.

Though late, the night was still young even though the horizon was starting to lighten up. Dawn was coming and with it a welcomed reprieve.

Hell was not a good word to describe how things were looked. It was as if the city was falling apart, blanketed in an unrelenting fog to hide Gotham's marred face. Gordon was reluctant to say they were handling things well. Managing, that was a good word to describe their efforts. Managing. Managing to evacuate as many people as they could to safety, managing to block off as many sections of the city as possible, managing to try and keep the fires from spreading no matter how futile it may have seemed.

But it was not over yet. There was unfinished business left. The fires for the most part were either under control or were smoldering. That just left the search for survivors, be they alive, injured, or dead.

That was Gordon's job for the time being. Turning his sights on a destroyed building, he gave a sigh as he made his way to it. Seeing that an entire wall was gone, he had no problem entering it, seeing piles of rubble all over the place. "Hello!" he called out, "is anyone in here? Shout if you can hear me!"

The commissioner waited a few moments before he called out the same message. All the while, he walked between the debris, eyes searching for anything that could be taken for human. So far nothing, which wasn't unusual. He had done this many times already, much to his distaste; yet it had to be done. The commissioner was going to be thorough about this; he wasn't going to give a cursory glance and be on his way. That was a disservice to his station and it was his job.

"Anyone? Hello?" he shouted again and waited once more for a reply. Feeling like he wasn't going to get anything, Gordon let out another sigh. It seemed this place was empty—

Wait, what was that?

Freezing, Gordon focused on his hearing, straining to pick up what he thought was a voice. It took him several seconds and a brief moment where he thought he was just hearing things, but then he heard it: soft crying. Head snapping left and right and left again, Gordon took a couple steps forward until he stood at the base of a small pile. Damn it, he couldn't see anything with all this rubble here. He needed to get on higher ground if he was going to find the source of the crying.

Climbing the pile in front of him, Gordon soon reached the top and didn't have to bother looking around. A small ways away from the debris he stood on was a young woman kneeling on the ground, looking down at something dark in her hands. "Hey!" he shouted at her as he began the descend down. He would've ran but the shifting pieces of concrete was proving to be more difficult than he had expected, forcing him to keep his pace much slower than he wanted. "Hey, are you okay!" he yelled at her, receiving no response from her.

Reaching the bottom, kicking smaller pieces of rock and rubble as he did, Gordon finally picked up his pace and hurriedly jogged to the woman. "Miss, answer me, are you okay?"

Finally, the woman looked up at him. For a moment, Gordon thought he recognized her, but was having a little trouble trying to figure out her name. It took him longer than he wished but soon her name popped in his head. This was the woman from the Jezebel Theater, that magician Zatanna. What the hell was she doing here? Hadn't she and her act fled town days ago?

However, those thoughts were pushed aside when he took in her state. Despite what went down during the night, the magician didn't look any worse for wear. It was definitely suspicious. Yet, her tear-stained face was what drew his attention. Red eyes looked back at him in what he could best describe as despair.

And then the commissioner dropped his own eyes to what she was holding, now that she wasn't hovering over it. It looked like some black piece of cloth and there was some sort of...of...mask on it.

The longer he stared at it, more details popped at him. While half of it was gone, possibly burned away, it did have a horn protruding from one side and there was an eyehole in it. In fact, the cloth looked more and more like a cape to him…

Oh...oh God, no. Was that…?

"Is that…" he trailed off as he pointed at the cape.

The magician dropped her head down before nodding in response. That caused her body to shudder and she began crying again.

The full weight of that admission knocked the wind out of Gordon. Even after everything, he never thought this wound happen. That cape and ruined masked belonged to the Batman. Energy draining out of him, the commissioner could only find himself staring at Zatanna and the mask, absent thought or reason.

It just...how could...why had…

Gordon swallowed deeply and painfully. He had nothing. Nothing to say, nothing to think. Just what did someone do in a situation like this? Maybe a more rational mind would've tried to console the woman, but Gordon found himself unable to.

So all he did was bow his head, hanging it in sorrow.

It had been a week since the night the Joker destroyed Gotham. Some news sources were trying to call it the Night of Fire, but so far no one had picked up on it. What should've been a steady stream of headlines for weeks as being treated more like a wake. There wasn't any energy, or motivation. Really, the last several days had been a blur.

And now a crowd was gathered in Sheldon Park. Everyone from city politicians, community leaders, corporate bigwigs, and the media were here. That included Vicki Vale.

The redhead had managed to score a spot in front so she was witness to the entire ceremony. Interim Mayor Grange had organized a memorial service for all the people that had lost their lives during the Joker Attacks. The exact number wasn't known at the moment as rescue teams were still recovering bodies—there really wasn't much hope for new survivors now. Currently the procession circled Grange and a few of her aides and security guards.

At the Mayor's feet was a bronze plaque emblazoned with some words meant to honor the fallen. Vicki couldn't read the words from where she stood due to the angle, but she was sure it was something befitting.

Of course, no one was completely fooled by what this was. Though much was made to eulogize all of the dead, this was really a service for the Batman.

A veritable shock had hit the city when news of the city's vigilante's death was revealed. Multiple witnesses had described a scene where Gordon and some unknown women wept over the vigilante's burnt cowl. No pictures of it existed, but for once the redhead felt that was perhaps for the best. Sometimes there were moments that were wholly private and shouldn't be presented to the public at large.

Letting her eyes wandered about the crowd, the redhead observed the other gatherers. Across from her she spotted many police officers, along with Commissioner Gordon and his daughter—who looked very devastated, she was quick to note—Lieutenant Essen and Sergeant Bullock. Each of them showed their grief, even Bullock who had taken the time to clean himself up and look presentable for once. There were a few other officers, none of which Vicki was familiar with, but she'd make sure to identify them later.

A ways away from the police congregation stood some business leaders, particularly the Wayne Board of Directors—what was left of them anyways. While some had been saved, others had perished in the bombings that had rocked the city. From whom she could see, Brian Jennings and Lauren Granger were here, two of the few saved. There was also Lucius Fox, but inconspicuously Bruce Wayne was not in attendance. There had been an announcement earlier in the week from the company about Wayne leaving the city, citing his grief at the loss of his late butler, Alfred Pennyworth. Currently the billionaire was out of country somewhere and was keeping a low profile.

Speaking of low profiles, there weren't many cameras recording the ceremony. You would think that an event like this would have all sorts of coverage, but apparently the service was keeping that circus away. There were a couple cameras filming everything, but that was it. Apparently Gordon and Grange had managed to find a way to keep the media at bay; it was also possible that some respect was being shown as well. Regardless, Vicki felt that this was for the best as well.

And while the redhead could put names to a lot of the civil servants present, there was also a lot of regular people here, which was surprising to her. Usually these things were for VIPs, so to speak, but the number of normal people was astounding.

"And though we mourn the loss of our fellow Gothamites, our mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, we must push on," Grange was saying, giving her speech. She had been at this for awhile and the redhead fell under the impression the mayor was about to wrap everything up. "Now is not the time to allow the progress made to be washed away. A return to the senseless killings that soaked our streets, not only during this rampage of a madman, but of the old days when crime bosses controlled everything and everyone, is the last thing any of the fallen would wish for. We have an opportunity to continue the improvements the city has been blessed with and it would be a tragedy if we were to let this opportunity slip through our fingers."

It was a nice speech, Vicki supposed, and it was scheduled to be the last one in what was a lot of eulogies. Faintly, she wondered just how genuine this Grange lady was, if she actually believed the words she was saying.

Unfortunately, not everything was hunky-dory. While Vicki did enjoy her place in the procession, it was slightly dampened by the presence of Lois Lane. The dark-haired woman stood next to her and looked just as grief-stricken as the rest of the procession. It made sense in a way since it had been Lane who coined the Batman moniker.

But Vicki couldn't find it in herself to let her dislike for the woman completely cloud her feelings on the matter. For once, they could find a truce if only for a day. Some things were just bigger than them and the Batman was one of them. At the very least, people were starting to use the vigilante's latest title more often, much to Vicki's joy.

The Dark Knight.

Gotham was in shambles, no question about it. It was going to take some time for the city to recover from the horrible things the Joker had done to it, but eventually things would get better. If there was any consolation to all of this, it was that the Joker had perished in the fires—may his soul rot forever in Hell. For now the city and its people needed to recover and get back on their feet.

They would just have to do that without Zatanna Zatara.

A week had felt like an eternity. Between the loss of Bruce and Alfred, the young woman had been beyond devastated. She practically holed herself up in the manor after finding Bruce's remains.

And while she wanted nothing more than for the world to just stop and let her grieve, it was time to move on. As unfortunate as it was, life continued despite her wishes and that left many things to do. Remember those two men's words when she first discovered Bruce's identity, Zatanna had gone out of her way to make sure no one would suspect the sudden disappearance of Bruce Wayne and link it with Batman's death.

It turned out to be a simpler chore than she originally thought. A letter to one of the Wayne executives, the Fox guy, simply stating that Bruce was taking an absence in light of the death of Alfred had solved most of the dilemma. Fox had been very understanding and released a public notice of Bruce's departure.

To fulfill the deception further, one of the Wayne Enterprises' company jets had taken off for some island in the Caribbean. Zatanna had picked one at random and had everything arranged, including making sure the pilots were unaware that they didn't even have a passenger. Amazing what a few hundred dollars bought you when you bribed the stewardess.

That just left the Cave. The dark-haired woman had spent the better part of a day making sure all of the obvious entrances and other potential ones were sealed up, so that way no one could just randomly stumble in. Some of the work was done by the supercomputer, but more than she liked required some leg work by the magician.

Yet, there had been some other matters she had to attend to, namely with her troupe. A call to Jeff and Jane had Zatanna calling off the rest of the tour. Jeff hadn't been happy about that in the slightest, but Jane seemed to pick up that something wasn't right, bless her heart. The troupe was on an extended hiatus for the foreseeable future. While Zatanna didn't want to give up on her father's show, she just didn't have in her to perform. She needed time and that wasn't going to come on the road in front of hundreds of people. If there was one thing she wasn't, that was a half-assed performer. She gave all or nothing. Of course, business would be hurt for awhile considering all of the cancellations, but the dark-haired woman would worry about that at a later time.

With a sigh, Zatanna felt as if she had done all she could here. And really, what else was there left to do? Even now she was shutting down the supercomputer and all the other equipment.

Yet, with each task that was completed, the dark-haired woman felt it was another step she was taking away from her time here—all the good things, all the bad things. Despite how things ended, she still looked fondly on her chats with Alfred, her assistance in Gotham, and ultimately her time with Bruce. Out of everything, that was the hardest to walk away from.

But there wasn't going to be any more of those times, was there? That was something she was just coming to terms with and it still caused a sob to work its way up her throat and choke her.

Zatanna shook her head. She needed to leave before she found herself locking herself in the master bedroom again. Once she was out of the city and on her way back home, then she could wallow in pity.

Turning away from the supercomputer as its giant monitor went black, Zatanna walked towards the staircase. With every step her heart seemed to pound harder, her breathing more labored, her throat more choked. She swallowed multiple times as she felt her emotions try to overwhelm her again.

Eventually, she reached the steps and climb them, stopping where a set of light switches hung from the wall. Turning her head, Zatanna took in one more look at the cave, part of her hoping to see a dark silhouette standing amongst the platforms and equipment. Every time she had left the cave in the past couple of days she had done the same, hoping this was just Bruce laying low only to reveal himself alive, maybe hurt, maybe perfectly alright. Each time ended the same way, however, with an empty cave devoid of what made it what it was.

She stayed there, looking over her shoulder with the same disappointment she'd been feeling at all the other times she'd done this. She felt like saying something, anything to help close this chapter of her life and begin with the next.

So she did.

"Goodbye, Bruce," she said softly before she began flicking the switches down. First the training dojo was bathed in darkness, then the empty platform where the Batmobile should have been. Another switch darkened the medical bay, followed by the supercomputer. Finally, Zatanna reached the last switch, hesitating for a moment. There would be no going back after this one. Once it was off, she wouldn't be coming back.

She flicked if off.

Turning her back on the cave, Zatanna began walking up the stairs, and leaving only darkness behind.

And thus ends City of a Thousand Laughs. Thank you everyone that read, reviewed, and enjoyed this story. I'll admit, I'm disappointed with the response to this. I felt this was the best of the three stories so far and thus expected a better response. High expectations and all that. Oh well, it is what it is. This story was definitely fun to write and I'm glad I did write it.

Though while Batman may be dead, I do plan on continuing this universe, expanding it out into Justice League territory. The ground work has been set for some of the other heroes in the this story and The Sixth Move, so that should give anyone interested an idea who'll be in the League. The title for it is called Genesis and I hope to see y'all there.

Until next time,

ShadowMajin