Hi everyone. Firstly I just want to say a huge, huge thank you to all of those who have given me such an amazing amount of support over these last chapters. Even if I get told about errors or if its praise I'm truly grateful that you have given this story your time. And I hope you know that I'm not just saying that. I'm also so sorry that I haven't responded personally to all the reviews. I have given special mentions below this chapter and if your name isn't there then please consider yourself included. I know you have all been really patient and I'm so sorry that this has taken so long. I have been sent away an awful lot for work, working long hours and it's really taken its toll. And of course you know that I don't want to write something quickly and its rubbish. So my apologies. Hopefully work will calm down and I can release more.

Ok enjoy and love you guys! Let me know what you think.

Children of the Narrows

The silence of the cave was almost engulfing. Sometimes when he sat down here it seemed as though time itself had frozen. And like the craggy rocks that surrounded him, he sat as rigid as stone. Lacing his fingers together, Bruce Wayne pressed them to his mouth, letting out a deep breath. It was cold down here, his breath fogged before his eyes.

Above he heard the rattling of the cage travelling downwards and raising his eyebrows, he glanced at his clock that was flashing on a screen above his computer in vivid green. Footsteps were making their way carefully towards him and he heard the older man clear his throat behind him.

"Its early Alfred," Bruce swung in his chair and nodded to the clock that read ten minutes past seven in the morning. "I take it the papers came?"

The older man shivered against the steely cold of the cave, a long forgotten dwelling that lay deep within the foundations of the old Wayne Manor. He placed this morning's 'Gotham Tribune' in Bruce's outstretched hand. He noticed that his young master hadn't bothered to change after his night's exploits. Bruce's hair was damp and stuck to his neck with sweat. He was still dressed in the Kevlar suit, but without the intimidating mask.

Bruce's eyes narrowed as he stared down at the paper. He pressed his lips together and let out a huff through his nose. In bold black print, the morning headline was screaming up at him. All it read was 'Joker Sighting' but it was enough to make Bruce's nerves raw.

"It's the story on the radio that worried me sir," Alfred tilted his head, when his master said nothing. "It seems that your Miss Kyle's Art Gallery was robbed last night."

Bruce crunched the paper up in his fist. He swallowed and stared up at the older man. Bruce had heard the robbery called in over the police radio the previous night. The thought that he had missed it, that he had driven away from her had almost choked him.

"I heard," he said at last, his voice distant. "Something isn't right Alfred. It says that witnesses saw a man fitting the Joker's description in the same area that the robbery occurred. The GCPD found a van parked nearby that they think belonged to him. Then at almost five in the morning a woman was woken up by the sound of her car alarm going off. She said that she saw the man who took her car and identified him as the Joker."

In the quietness of the cave, Alfred swallowed. "So you went to look I take it?"

Bruce lifted his shoulders in a sigh. "He was gone. I drove by and saw Selina's broken door. I can't believe that I drove away and left her. She must have walked right into it."

Alfred's eyes widened. "But she's alright, sir?"

Bruce gripped the arms of the chair with his gloved fingers. "I'm going over there as soon as it's a reasonable hour. Something just doesn't feel right about this. Is it a coincidence that he just happened to be in the area?"

He rubbed his eyes, barely noticing that his old butler suddenly appeared much greyer than normal. But then all Bruce had thought about in the last twenty four hours was Selina Kyle.

"Sir," Alfred edged closer and took a seat before the vast computer desk. Since the rebuild Bruce had added a few extra technical gadgets. From this secluded position, he was pretty much wired in to Gotham City. Bruce had access to police reports as well as their communication system. He was also able to get hold of any intelligence and footage that he required.

"What is it?" Bruce looked up at him, drumming his fingers lightly on the arm of the chair. "You look guilty about something."

Alfred leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He had wanted to spare his master this. He had hoped that it wouldn't have had to come out this way. Bruce had seemed a different man since losing Rachel and having Selina around, even for one night had temporarily lifted the perpetual gloom that held his eyes. Now Alfred feared he was going to take him right back down to what he had been before, an emotionless vigilante.

"You've met Miss Kyle before," Alfred began tentatively and watched as Bruce raised his eyebrows in surprise. To the older man's dismay, Bruce's face broke into a grin.

"I don't think so. I think I would remember a woman like her."

"Would you though?" Alfred shook his head, wearily. "When I think back to those dark months after you first lost your parents, I don't think you can remember much very clearly. You never met her as she is now. You met her as a child."

Bruce's brow knitted together and he looked away. "When?"

"Your mother was a patron to a children's home in the narrows. A few months after she died the whole place burned to the ground, rather mysteriously I might add. The children were housed here very temporarily and your Miss Kyle was one of them."

Bruce lifted his eyes to the older ones that were watching intently for his reaction. He cleared his throat, bringing his fist to his lips. Memory was desperately trying to grapple its hold on him. He remembered pieces, jagged shards of his past. There was so much he'd lost after the death of his parents and so much he'd chosen to forget. He remembered their funeral at the cathedral in the city and then the car journey to bring them home to be buried within the grounds.

"The funeral...she was there," Bruce's eyes widened, the vision of a little blonde girl appearing before him. "I gave her that rose!"

He leaned forward suddenly as Alfred nodded his encouragement. Bruce was on his feet. He began to pace back and forth, his cape still swinging around his ankles.

He stopped. "She was here."

The older man sighed. "That is correct, sir."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Bruce suddenly turned on the older man, his face taught with confusion.

"I wasn't sure. At least I wasn't until you brought her here. I suspected something when I met her at your fundraiser. What are you thinking Sir?"

Bruce had halted his relentless pacing and stood still, his eyes transfixed on the darkness that swelled up around him. He remembered something else. He brought his fingers to his lip. A vision of a young girl in scruffy clothes sitting at his mother's dressing table, playing with her things appeared before him. He had confronted the girl and then out of a nowhere a boy had appeared to defend her. A boy with an odd face. Bruce flinched at the memory. The boy had hit him and he'd ended up on the floor with a bleeding nose.

Bruce collapsed in the chair. "He was here," he breathed.

Alfred frowned. "Who was here? Master Bruce?"

"The Joker...he was in this house!"

Alfred's face whitened and his back tensed. "When?"

Bruce shook his head. "Years ago. He was here, with Selina."

Bruce swung his chair around to his console and his fingers began to move furiously across the keyboard. Over his shoulder, the butler peered through his old eyes. Bruce seemed to be looking through old archives but his speed was too quick for him to pick anything up.

"This is a passenger manifesto," Bruce explained for the older man's benefit. "It lists all the names of the people that were on the ferry the night the Joker was captured. Selina told me outside the courthouse that her brother was on that ferry and that was the reason that she was there."

"There's a lot of names there sir," Alfred chewed his lower lip.

"But none of them are a Kyle," Bruce flicked through the list. "Unless she changed her name?"

Alfred folded his arms against the cold that had suddenly sunk further into his old bones.

"You think she's working with him?" he prompted after a long period of silence while Bruce just stared at the screen. Alfred could see the hope in his eyes. Bruce was willing the name 'Kyle' to appear on the list. Finally he swung away from the screen, the hope in his eyes slightly deflated.

"I don't know...she can't be. Can she?"

Alfred shook his head. "I don't think that's the answer to this puzzle sir. The Joker is a one man band. He works alone. Think clearly sir...how can you be sure he was here?"

Bruce allowed himself to smile, but it was more of a grimace. It was a smile to his own stupidity. At his own blindness.

"I remember that face," he said at last. "I remember covering for him. Their nurse came looking for them and I covered for them both. Then..."

"He was taken away," Alfred finished the story, quickly catching up. "I remember the police coming and taking a boy away and I remember it nearly broke that little girl's heart. She cried for days and then, she ran away. Her and another little girl. We thought that they must have left on a delivery van."

Bruce shook his damp head. "Is this even possible? That the man who killed Rachel...my enemy...was here the whole time? That I knew him before."

"Stranger things have happened Sir," the old butler mused. "But one thing I'm sure of is that she isn't working with him. I just don't believe it."

"She's lied to me," Bruce breathed. "I asked her about her life and she's lied to my face. Without any hesitation. In the courthouse...she wasn't there for Rachel or her brother...she was there to see him!"

"Maybe her reasons are different than the conclusions you're jumping to Master Bruce? Maybe she is the one who can help you understand this enigma of a man?" Alfred said gently. "She could help you."

"They're connected," Bruce shook his head. "They grew up together. She knows him better than anybody. All this time the police have wasted researching this man and have come up with nothing. She could tell us who he really is."

Bruce sat back in his chair. He knew what it meant to grow up with someone and share a childhood bond. He knew what it meant to be so close to another person that you could tell what they were thinking by their facial expressions or a flick of their eyes. And he knew what it was to lose that first real love, that lifelong friend. The wound Rachel's death had left was still a gaping hole in his chest. The Joker had seen to that.

"I like Selina, Alfred," he admitted. "I really like her. Is it wrong to feel like that...so soon?"

He suddenly felt like a teenager telling his father about having a crush on the most popular girl in school. A blush crossed his cheekbones and Alfred laughed fondly, reaching for his knee and patting it lightly.

"With all due respect Master Wayne," he began gently. "Rachel was never really yours, not for a long time anyway. Whatever hope you had went away the day you became the Bat. You had different ideas on the way to heal this city. You may have been playmates but you grew into very different adults and more often than not we cling onto those memories. And that could very well be the same with your Selina and the Joker?"

Bruce exhaled and looked at the clock above the console. It was nearly eight in the morning. He rose out of his seat and flexed his shoulders.

"You think it's too early to go?" he asked Alfred who looked up at him fondly. He shook his head.

"I'd have a shower though first," he warned seriously, his face breaking into a mocking smile. Bruce's features cracked into a grin before heading off to the cage. Behind him Alfred followed, his step a little lighter than it had been before.

They both climbed into the creaky elevator and waited as it travelled upwards, through the catacombs below the vast manor above them. In the half light of the cave, Alfred stared at his master's stony profile intently.

"Tread carefully Sir," he warned suddenly and Bruce turned to look at him. "Something tells me she'll give you what you want. I think she could bring you the Joker or at least help you understand him. But you mustn't push her."

Bruce barely heard his warning over his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He dashed out of the elevator and up the stone stairway in the hallway as soon as it was stationed. After a quick shave and a brisk shower he was hurrying into his clothes. Speeding away from Wayne Manor and leaving a trail of dust in his wake, his thoughts were preoccupied.

He thought of the Joker and wondered at his connection with Selina. He wondered if Selina would be willing to give him up so easily. But Bruce's thoughts didn't dwell on that for long. His mind strayed to the moment in his car when she'd kissed him back and how for the first time in years, he remembered what it was like to be young. He had liked the feeling and recognised the beginning of an addiction beginning to form.

/

When Selina stepped into the wreck that was once her thriving business that morning, she bit on her lip, desperate not to cry. She was exhausted and drained. She didn't know how not to cry anymore. Holly poked her head around the store room door, her face also pale and grey.

"Morning," she uttered before signalling that she was on the phone. Selina nodded folding her arms and closing the door behind her. A cold blast of air caught her by surprise, making her shiver inwardly. Closing her eyes she saw Elliot dragging his injured leg behind him as he disappeared through that door the previous night.

Selina jumped, forced out of her daydream as her shoe crunched across broken glass. She looked down as Holly came jogging across the floor. She flipped the cell phone shut and tossed it on the desk that Selina was leaning against. Holly looked up into the face of her friend and quickly averted her eyes. But Selina had been quick enough to read her expression.

"How bad is it?" Selina wailed, her fingers gently lifting to touch the swollen skin beneath her eye. She had a graze on her forehead, a swollen jaw, a bruised collar bone and a black eye. And that was only from last night. She was still suffering from the injuries inflicted upon her, courtesy of Benito and Rene Falcone.

Holly stood with her hands on her hips. "Its...well you look a bit beaten but don't worry. You're still hot!"

Selina tried to smile but it made her cheek pinch. "How are you?"

Holly's face fell slightly after her joke. Her grey circles and pale face said it all but Selina wanted her to talk to her. Years of pushing away friendship and now she craved it more than ever. Holly held up her hands, her eyes watery.

"I'm busy. This is good, because that means I don't have to think too much about how I nearly died last night! The insurance company is arranging for someone to come and fix the door. And I've called up all your customers to explain why they're orders are going to be delayed."

Selina raised her eyebrows. It wasn't even eight thirty in the morning. She reached out to fold Holly in a hug but to her dismay the smaller, dark haired girl side stepped her.

"I'm sorry Selina," she explained. "I just...I don't know what to think."

Her heart sinking, Selina sagged back on the desk top, her bottom lip aching from where she'd chewed it so hard. Holly gave her a sad smile and patted her shoulder.

"At least your here, I guess," Selina said out loud. "This means you haven't abandoned me."

Holly narrowed her eyes at the thought. "I would never do that!"

Selina almost laughed. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you had fled and never come back. You saw some things last night and it must be...well... confusing."

Holly folded her arms and let out a puff of air. "Well there are a few things you never mentioned. Like the fact that the Joker somehow happens to be a childhood friend of yours? Oh and the fact that he pushed me out of the way and took a bullet for me. Still reeling a bit from that one..."

Selina rolled her eyes. "You're not alone there. I can explain most of it though...if you want to hear it?"

Holly took her friend's hand, which was cold to the touch. Selina had come downstairs in a thin long sleeve shirt and pressed grey trousers. She was shivering and her lips looked blue. Holly shrugged out of her light pink cardigan and wrapped it around her friend's shoulders, pushing Selina's blonde pony tail out of the way.

"I do want to hear it. But not today. Today is work and I have a lot to do!"

Selina folded her arms, grateful for the sudden warmth of the cardigan. "What will I do?"

Holly turned away, gathering some stray papers that were in a messy pile on the top of the desk. She neatly stacked them into the draw below.

"Well you can help here?" she said just as the sound of a very large engine came roaring down the road. Both women stopped and watched as the silver Porsche pulled up at the kerb outside the gallery. The door flew open and Bruce Wayne climbed out of the driver's side. Holly's eyebrows shot up and Selina groaned inwardly.

"Or not," Holly finished her sentence and Selina choked back a giggle despite of herself. Bruce hurried towards the gallery, his eyes widening in horror as he looked at the missing glass door. He was wearing a neat, pressed blue shirt and tailored pants. His hair was still slightly damp and a red streak crossed the top of his nose and cheeks.

Selina pushed herself off the desk, her legs a little numb as he stepped carefully towards her over the broken glass. His eyes went to the purple bruise under her left eye. When he was close enough, he reached and linked his fingers around her slim neck, the pad of his thumb tracing across the mark, so vivid against her pale skin.

His brow drew together. "I shouldn't have left you."

Her breath caught in her throat and she touched his hand. "I'm fine. No broken bones."

"But your face...did he do...anything...," he appeared to be struggling with words and Selina shook her head, saving him the embarrassment.

"No. Bruce really, I'm Ok." She swept her hand across the mess and disarray that once was her sophisticated business. "Just some serious damage that's all."

He caught himself staring and pulled his hand away, shoving them safely in his pockets. Whenever he was around her he had an incredible urge to be touching her in some way. He looked around the disarray that was formerly a neat, very polished art gallery. There was still glass everywhere and in the corner, propped up against the wall was a wrecked canvas print, a large boot print straight through the centre of it. His eyes roamed back and forth and that was when he saw the blood splattered across the white tiled floor. There was a bloody handprint on the door to the stairway behind her.

"I shot the intruder," Selina hadn't meant it to come out so coldly. "I got him in the leg and he ran away before the police got here."

Bruce looked at her and realised how practised it was. Lying came as second nature to her and he felt an odd pinch in his chest. He had no idea as to why she was lying, but he knew it was true. When she turned her green eyes up to him however, he sank a little, his heart speeding up as she wandered closer, her arms tightly folded.

"Thanks for coming over Bruce," she said, her eyes a little watery. "I guess we'll have to arrange for our lunch another time?"

Just then he smiled abruptly, his eyes creasing at the corners. "Well I noticed a park across the street. Why don't we have a walk? It might do you good to get out of here for a while?"

Selina's heart lifted a little at his suggestion. She peered down the gallery for Holly who had suddenly made herself scarce, but she could still hear her tidying in the storeroom.

"That Ok?" she called and Holly poked her head around the door.

"Fine!" she chirped and Selina hid a smile. Outside it was sunny and fresh, a mild day for Gotham despite of the rain they'd been having. Still a little chilly, she rubbed her arms as she walked shoulder to shoulder with Bruce. He darted a look in her direction and she avoided his gaze.

She felt strange and awkward, like a teenager on a date. It didn't matter that they'd shared a kiss the previous evening. It felt like a million years ago. Her thoughts were preoccupied and lost. She had thought of Bruce, but she had been plagued with dreams of Jack. He was out there somewhere and she was worried. But she had to ask herself why the hell was she worried about him?

Silently, they walked to the park, entering through the large iron gates. They passed a coffee vendor but Selina shook her head when he offered to buy her one.

"Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?" he asked, urging her to sit beside her on a bench near the fountain. It was where she had sat with Jonah only a short while back. Selina sat down next to him and he folded his arm around her. She didn't pull away, liking the fact that he was warm and solid and strong.

"Of course you didn't. Why would you think that?" she laughed, staring at his profile.

"I was a bit forward last night. I can be like that sometimes. It's the curse of having people around you all day that do anything you ask when you tell them to."

Selina chuckled at that. She snuggled closer and breathed in the firey smell of his aftershave. His fingers strolled casually up to the back of her neck and began twirling through her ponytail. She began to relax against him. He was winding his fingers through her hair as though he'd done that every day of his life. She was suddenly struck by a memory. That was something that Jack had always done. Even in childhood, he'd had a thing about playing with her hair. She stiffened, her lips parted but when Bruce looked down she said nothing.

"It must have been awful," he sympathised and she exhaled softly. "Did you get a good look at him?"

Her head was swimming and she couldn't see straight through her lies. "It was dark. I think I could pick him out if I had to."

"Did he take anything?" Bruce probed and Selina began to fidget, suddenly uncomfortable.

"We haven't really checked...maybe. Bruce..." she sat up straight and he stared at her through hooded eyes. "I don't really want to talk about it now. I'm sorry."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked and she bit her lip hard. He read her expression.

She saw the disappointed expression cross through his eyes and she felt her heart wrench. She didn't want to be alone. She wanted nothing more than to be with him. Selina felt an odd pull in her chest every time she looked at him and she wanted nothing more than this wonderful, safe feeling to continue. But her head felt like cotton wool. She couldn't think clearly.

He bit his lip. "I did do something wrong."

She shook her head and realised that wasn't going to convince him. He closed his eyes as she kissed him, winding her fingers around his shirt collar and tugging him closer. He responded quickly, feverishly, his arm straying down her back resting on her hip bone. When she finally pulled away, she kissed his face, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

"I'm just tired," she whispered. "It really isn't you."

Bruce conceded and let his hand slip back to his side. "I'll walk you back."

It seemed absurd that they had only been in the park for moments and now they were leaving. As Selina stood he caught her hand and pulled her back against him. His arms wound around her small waist and he kissed her greedily, making her feet tingle and her knees weaken. When she was holding onto his shirt for support, he let her go and she realised that he'd lifted her almost out of her shoes.

"Come home with me," he asked, his eyes dark as he stared down at her. A flush crept up her neck from nowhere and she smiled, reaching to push the hair out of his eyes.

"It's very tempting," she answered and saw that look of disappointment once again appear in his eyes. "But I can't leave Holly to clear up the mess. I will take a rain check however."

He pouted, his eyes serious. "Maybe I won't ask again. Maybe it's a onetime offer?"

He was clearly teasing and Selina folded her arms, letting out a real sincere laugh. She shook her head and tugged his shirt playfully.

"Sorry...I forgot that Bruce Wayne is used to getting his way!" she joked and his features softened into a wide smile. "I'm sure you can amuse yourself with one of your hired girls?"

He laughed at that, revealing his even, white teeth. Selina's heart did a little back flip. It seemed that the more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. She let him pull her into his side, his arm firmly tucked around her waist as he walked her back to the gallery. In the foyer, Holly was sweeping up broken glass, her face half hidden by her mane of hair as she worked. Bruce hugged Selina tightly and told her to be careful before he kissed her forehead and ducked back into his own car.

The two women didn't speak very much for the remainder of the afternoon. It wasn't because there was an atmosphere. It was just that both were so preoccupied, their thoughts turbulent and erratic. Both seemed happy to work in relative silence. Selina thought about Bruce and how she had lied to him, her stomach lurching with guilt.

When the sun had moved behind a heavy veil of cloud and it began to get dark, Holly called it a night. Selina watched her leave, feeling so alone and exhausted at the same time. Would they ever have the same relationship again? Selina hoped that Holly would give her the chance to explain. Locking the inner door behind her, Selina's stride was purposeful as she would her way up the narrow set of stairs. Once she locked her apartment door behind her she hurried into the bedroom.

She gathered up all the stained, bloody bed linen and bundled them into her arms before dumping them in the drum of the washer. Closing her eyes, she shut out the images of the previous night. In the pile of laundry she spied a faint green shirt with an octagonal print. She pulled it out of the drum quickly, gathering it up in her trembling hands. It was musky and stained with blood. Selina sighed, realising she was now building up quite a collection of Jack's clothing.

She discarded it, leaving it strewn across the kitchen table before she wandered into her messy bedroom, kicking off her heels as she went. Taking a deep breath, she flung open the wardrobe door and reached in, pulling out one of her brand new suits that had been specially made. She held it to her chest, not really sure of what she was going to do. Silently, she slipped out of her day clothes. She pulled her blonde hair up into a tight knot at the back of her head. Wriggling into the tight suit, she zipped it up to her neck and then pulled the mask over her face.

Kneeling beside her bed she pulled out her weapon chest, clipping a couple of fighting daggers onto her belt. Peering out of the window, she decided that it now looked dark enough for travel, especially if she kept to the roof tops. The heels of her boots clicked on the metal fire escape as she wound out of the window, heading up instead of down into the alley below. The breeze was cool on her skin, making her shiver slightly as she darted nimbly up the rickety stair well, breathing hard as she pulled herself over the edge of the roof. It took her a long time to reach the narrows. Gotham was quiet tonight and she realised how much she loved to look at it from above. Up here it was silent and you couldn't hear the ugliness going on below. Tracking across the rooftops, she spied the magnificent Wayne Towers, twinkling at her in the distance. Her thoughts immediately turned to Bruce and she swallowed. She didn't want to think about him right now.

Finally she dropped into an alley way, the smell of stale alcohol filling her nose and she wrinkled it in distaste. Keeping her back to the wall she edged past a narrow doorway and from inside she could hear the dull throb of music. Narrowing her eyes, she was struck with a memory, especially at seeing the overflowing dumpster right near the door. This was where she had hidden with Suzie all those years ago. Sadness overwhelmed her and she struggled to breath. Holding onto the wall, she closed her eyes.

Just get a grip, it was years ago. She told herself sternly. Pushing away from the wall, Selina began to run, her feet light as she moved. It was as if her body knew instinctively where she was, her muscles reacting to her surroundings. She seemed to just know exactly where to turn and what side streets to take. All of a sudden the side street turned onto a main road and Selina held her breath as she rounded the corner.

She stood before the ruins of Humberside Children's home. Her calves slightly aching from the journey, she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, her hands hanging limply at her sides as she stared up at the charred remains of the place she had once called home. It was amazing that almost twenty years had passed and Gotham City Council had chosen to ignore the derelict building. Rather than tearing it down and demolishing the wreckage, the council had put up wire fencing around the perimeter with a big faded sign nailed loosely to it. The sign read 'Danger! Building in Progress' in bold but worn red print. Selina wondered at how long that sign had hung there. It was now slightly graphitised with crude pictures and curse words.

Selina shook her shoulders, tensing slightly at a noise from behind her, further down the street. She darted a look over her shoulder and saw a raggedy homeless man in an overcoat stumbling towards her. Selina slipped into the darkness, able to squeeze her small frame through the gap in the wire fencing. Dropping to her knees, she held her breath as the drunk passed her by, not seeing her there in the shadows. Continuing on, she got up and walked through the fallen crumbled debris, kicking clumps of concrete out of her path.

When she had returned to Gotham, it was on one of her trips through the narrows that she came upon Humberside. The sight of the old building, still part standing, alone and empty had ripped through her soul. She thought she had forgotten her childhood there. But it was surprising at how the memories had returned. She remembered the smell of crayons and the dusty piles of books in the day room. She remembered at how the walls of the hallway were littered with their haphazard artwork, used to cover the cracks and peeling paint. She remembered Mrs. Wayne, reading to them on the dried grass of the lawn and Jonah yelling at them to get into their beds.

It was upon seeing her old home that she had found the perfect hiding spot. On that first night, with the stars shining down on her like watchful eyes, Selina had explored the old ruin, amazed at how much of the building was still intact, especially the kitchen area. It was there that she had found the remains of an old trap door. It had been padlocked, but the lock was long ago broken off, probably by someone looking for a dry place to sleep. Selina had wrenched the door back and found a set of metal stairs that lead down under the ground. During the childhood, she remembered Jonah's trips to the basement, but they had never been permitted to go down there. She had long forgotten that it even existed until that night.

Selina had realised then that she had to find somewhere to hide all the money that she had stolen from the Falcone's. If she kept it in the apartment then it would be very hard to cover it up if someone broke in, like Elliot had managed to. For now she needed somewhere forgotten and lost and the damp, dusty underbelly of her old home seemed the perfect place. Not even the most corrupt of Gotham's Police force ventured this far into the narrows anymore, especially since all those patients escaped from Arkham two years back. Not even the Bat could hunt down every low life that had forced their way out of that place. They curled into the dark, like Selina, an expert at disappearing. This place bred crime and people like her and the Joker. They were children of the narrows and knew how to survive; it was the first thing that you learnt.

Making sure that she was alone, Selina kicked away the compacted dirt that she had used to conceal the entrance of the door. Digging her gloved fingers through the soil she sought out the metal ring, gritting her teeth as she curled her hand around it, heaving the door open, leaving a trail of dirt to fly into the air. She darted inside, her heels clanging on the narrow metal steps. Carefully she travelled further in, pulling the door shut over her head. Inside the basement, the air was thick with dust, clogging up her nostrils. Selina unclipped her flashlight, letting the fine beam of light flick around the dark, musty space.

There were old barrels piled high in the far left corner. And in the right were a heap of dampened cardboard boxes, full of old blankets and bed linen, rat infested and eaten. On her first visit, Selina had inspected the place and found nothing of worth. To the right of the boxes was an ancient oven, probably put down here for storage after the building was renovated back in the thirties, long before it had ever been taken over by Rene Falcone. Kneeling before the oven, Selina reached and pulled down the handle.

The smell of old, stale oil made her gag but it was quickly gone and she breathed a sigh of relief at the sight that lay before her. She quickly counted up the small white money sacks, estimating that she had over six million dollars stashed down here. Selina sank back on her haunches and hung her head. She really didn't know why she had been so desperate to get here tonight.

She fell to her bottom, staring dismally at the fortune that sat before her. She felt depression and sadness creeping into her bones like a cold winter. What had it all been for? She thought that she had all the ideas, that she had everything worked out. But now she questioned why she had ever come home at all. The costume she wore clung to her like a skin and she had that awful, deep feeling that this was just part of her now. Like Batman, like the Joker, this was the other half of her soul. The Cat was who she was and she was wearing Selina like a disguise.

Selina realised that she had lost sight of what she truly wanted and right now, she suspected that what or rather who she wanted was in Wayne Manor, about to go out on a date with another woman. Sighing, she covered her eyes with her hands, forcing down the knot that was building in her throat. Then there was Jack. Exhaling softly, Selina thought that things never turn out the way you expected them to. She had told Alfred Pennyworth that she was looking for something, that she was lost and had come home to Gotham to find something. Maybe Jack was part of the reason that she had come home? On some level, maybe she had never really stopped looking for him? And now she had found him again, perhaps it was meant to be. Almost chuckling at herself, Selina knew she couldn't sit here all night, analysing her life and her choices.

Climbing to her feet, suddenly weary she headed for the metal steps, happy and content that for now her fortune hadn't been ransacked by squatters, not that she really cared anymore if it all suddenly went up in smoke. It had never been about the money.

Skipping up the steps, Selina used her shoulder to push against the door. Huffing loudly it clanged as it crashed open on the other side and she winced as the sound broke through the silence of the streets beyond. Poking her head out of the trap, she peered through the dark and then used her forearms to push herself out. She quickly replaced the door, kicking the dirt over it.

She jogged through the debris, winding her body through the hole in the metal fence. When she was back in the alley, she looked back at the old building, her heart swelling in her chest. An idea popped into the head but left as quickly as it came as Selina jogged through the alley, keen to get back to the gallery. She suddenly wanted to be on her sofa, chatting with Holly and she hoped her best friend would come if she called.

Then something happened. Selina heard the air slice in two as if something had been shot in her direction. She didn't look down at her ankle until she felt a tugging sensation. Wide eyed she stared at the hook that had looped around her boot but by then it was too late. Air whooshed past her as she was unceremoniously yanked backwards until she was flat on her back. Smacking her head on the concrete, she groaned, blinking upwards, where she could see a large figure moving around in the metal stairwells of the apartments above.

Realisation dawned and she opened her mouth to curse, but without warning, the hook on her boot tightened and she was flying upwards, through the alley and through hung out bed linen and damp clothing. Rain began to trickle from the night sky as she whirred up, her arms scrambling around frantically. She saw lights from the apartments and the soft hue from television sets as she whizzed by, her lungs straining in her chest, blood pumping in her head.

An arm encased in black Kevlar reached out and grabbed her ankle. Selina gasped as the Bat unhooked her boot and she cried out as she slipped out of his grasp. He caught her under the arms, the pain from her side slicing through her, hot as fire as he turned her to face him. Selina was directly level with his black eyes. He appeared to have no problem holding her there suspended in the air with her legs dangling.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" she yelled, helpless as he pulled her closer. To her surprise, he actually grinned, revealing white, even teeth. The rain began to come down in sheets, running down both their faces, making their black clothing glint in the low light around them.

"Gotcha," he said.

/

Rene Falcone was nearing sixty years old and she knew that her prognosis wasn't good. She hated that she had gotten so old and so quickly. And now it seemed that she was going to end her days looking like a corpse, when this was supposed to be her time to shine. She was the head of the Falcone family, indeed the last one left. What had it all been for if she was going to die so soon?

Rene hadn't left Gotham General. They had pumped the rotten, foul water of the east river out of her body, but the affect of near drowning had worn out her lungs. And upon investigation, the doctor had revealed that they had found a 'shadow'. In short Rene was dying, but thanks to the Cat and the Joker, it was much faster than she had hoped for.

The sound that came from her mouth was a low, rumbling wheeze, as though she were pulling air from her very soul. Lying quiet and still in the starchy, sterile bed, surrounded by cards and flowers, Rene wondered at if she actually deserved this. During her employ with Carmine, she had heard many of her victims plead for 'God' to help them. He hadn't given a shit then. And they nearly always ended up in pieces, bagged up and then burned. Rene wondered if she would suffer the same fate.

What was most irritating was that the weasel that she had hired to take care of the Cat had completely vanished off the radar, so she couldn't even be sure that the money that belonged to her family would ever be found.

Pain swelled up in her chest and she struggled to breath. Dimly she recalled that the nurse was supposed to be here now with her pain medication. Her eyes watering, she pressed her panic button firmly. Rene didn't like the idea of dying in here. She hoped that Anthony would come soon and take her home; at least she could finish off her time in her own bed, without being watched by ghouls all day. Her door swung open and relief flooded her as a male orderly dressed in clean blue scrubs, came in wheeling a large metal cart.

Rene narrowed her grey eyebrows at him. He had his back to her and was whistling a tune, rather out of time but she vaguely recalled the old war time song.

"Where's the nurse?" she barked. "I was supposed to get my pain meds two hours ago."

The orderly turned to face her as he wheeled the cart up to her bedside. His ratty blonde hair was tied back in a pony tail at the nape of his neck. There was something strange about his face, she noticed almost instantly. His eyes were heavily shadowed and red rimmed and if she wasn't mistaken, it almost looked as though he had recently been wearing black eye makeup. Rene snorted and wondered if he were some cross dresser. But it wasn't just that. Either side of his mouth, were deep, jagged lacerations, slightly waxy and pale, skin pink.

For some reason, as he came a little closer, giving her a sly wink, her stomach jerked, her legs weakening.

He leaned near to her, carelessly scraping a chair across the floor, his eyes dark and intent as he sat down upon it, leaning his elbows against his knees. She saw a bloodied bandage around his upper arm and all at once her breathing became shallower.

"I need the nurse," she whispered. He ran a tongue along a set of very yellowed teeth and she recoiled. He flexed his brows upwards, his eyes far off to the distance as he took her plastic cup from her bedside cabinet, rolling it around in his large hands.

"Ah...nurse is unavailable right now. It's just you and me...but don't worry. You're in excellent hands."

His voice was oddly familiar and although Rene suspected that this was the Joker, there was something more unsettling, more disturbing pressing on her. She remembered a boy long ago who she had cared for at the children's home. One day that boy had confronted her and nearly terrified her to death.

"Who...who are you?" she swallowed, despite the pain in her throat. He grinned, revealing those teeth again, his eyes darting from side to side.

"Perhaps you recognise my face?" suddenly he lunged forward, so close that Rene had nowhere to go but further back into her pillow. His fingers dug painfully into her thin upper arms.

"Stop...stop it!" she choked. "My men..."

"Are having their dinner break right now...it seems that you're all alone Miss Falcone. Now it's been so long...you really don't recognise my face? You ought to...you did a piss poor job of stitching me up once."

Reality hit her and she stared up at him with wide, blank eyes. "You...you're him?"

He rolled his eyes. "Hmm. Bet you can't even remember my name can you? All those kids I don't suppose I blame you. But I kind of thought I would have stood out from the crowd?"

He seemed to be angry that she hadn't spoken his name. His body was tight with tension, his teeth grinding nosily inches from her face. A sweat breaking on her forehead she gasped and answered him.

"Jack. I remember you Jack."

He genuinely smiled, his scars reaching up to his cheekbones, like his face was cracking in half.

"There you go...I knew you couldn't have forgotten me. We go way back don't we? Perhaps you remember a little conversation we had...or a little disagreement we had one time?"

Rene stared wildly up at him. Her heart was hammering in her chest like a frightened, dying bird. Where was Anthony? Where was her protection? She realised he was referring to the memory that had come to her only moments ago.

"I don't understand...you said...it was so long ago."

The Joker shook his head mockingly, wagging a finger in her face. "Oh but Miss Falcone...a promise is a promise. And I always keep my word...well sometimes. But anyhow...here I am!"

Tears escaped under her black lashes. She felt utterly weak and feeble. She couldn't have fought him back even if she had wanted to. Her body was ruined and failing her. She watched with wide eyes as he reached behind him, taking a metal tray from the cart that he had wheeled in earlier. He clattered the tray on the cabinet, pushing her cards wishing her well aside. The tray was full of metal instruments, sharp and sterile. Her stomach lurched and she gripped his forearm.

"Please, why are you doing this?" she gasped and he yanked his arm away from under her.

"What's up doll?" he giggled. "Don't like what you see? I thought in your line of work you'd be used to it."

"But what has this got to do with what happened years ago?" her mind was racing. The Joker was gazing intently down at the tray, picking up each instrument and inspecting it closely, bringing it up to his eyes and then replacing it.

"Do you remember what I said to you that day?" he asked quietly and Rene spluttered.

"Yes...but..."

"What did I say?"

"I don't understand. What has this got to do with...Selina Kyle?"

"What did I say?" he asked again, a little less patient this time.

"She went missing years ago. We never found her...I don't understand..."

"What did I say?" The noise that came from him was more of a roar, more of a bellow than a question and the sound travelled through her bones, shaking the fragments of her soul. Too terrified to utter another sound, Rene choked as he withdrew, leaning back against the chair, his eyes nearly completely black.

"Well seeing as you've conveniently forgotten, let me remind you. I said that if you hurt Selina, that.. I would cut your face in half...like your brother did to me. Does that...uh...jog your memory?"

Weakly, Rene nodded, a sob escaping her thin, pale lips. Everything was suddenly, startlingly clear and she realised what a fool she had been. In the warehouse, that very night that Benito had died she had asked the 'Cat' if they had ever met before. And of course they had. The woman she had tortured had been the child that she had once cared for. Michael Kyle's only daughter. The family accountant's little girl. She had promised him that Selina would be given the small fortune when she turned eighteen years old, but of course Rene had ploughed it straight into the family business.

Only Jonah had known of her crime against Selina. No wonder the little bitch had targeted every bank they had money stashed in. It was almost laughable. Rene had come full circle. She was brought out of her daze by the light glinting off the sharp metal scalpel that was dancing before her eyes. Dimly she realised it was bloodied; she could see the scarlet dripping down the handle and onto the man's gloved hand. He had taken the time to put his gloves on.

She gasped and looked down at her arm. He had cut her, the flesh of her forearm sliced open. In her daze she hadn't even felt anything. Maybe she really was so ice cold that she had become like stone? She hoped so. The sting began and she winced and once again, panic began to rise.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered as he wiped the blood off on his clean uniform. "Why now?"

"Because you sent someone for her," he answered simply, never taking his gaze off the knife, mesmerised as the blood dribbled down the blade. "And you're a Falcone...you won't stop. You'll send another until you kill her. And I just can't allow that."

He dipped the knife again and she held her breath as he traced it along her thigh, the pain of her flesh slicing open too much to take. Going dizzy, she fell back, breathing deeply and she knew she would die soon.

"Selina and me...we'll we were children of the narrows. You..you and your family created what we became. And the thing about kids that come from the narrows...is they look out for each other. So you could say that this is kind of your fault."

He chuckled at that, suddenly leaning across the bed, his face so near that she almost couldn't breathe. Rene closed her eyes and told herself she wouldn't scream for him. She wouldn't give him that. However, she was lying to herself.

He lowered his voice to a whisper and she knew it would be the last thing she would ever hear.

"Now," he chuckled, tucking the scalpel inside the corner of her mouth so that all she could taste was blood and metal. "Let's put a smile on that face."

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