XX.

5 years later.

Grace looked at her wristwatch, huffed and puffed in annoyance and lay her head in the window of the bus where she was. She stare and appreciated how some men, in the neighboring seat, watched her in a stalking manner. She felt the chills run through her body, pretended not to have noticed them and waited for the road to end soon.

She spotted her stop, got up quickly from the seat and went down, feeling those piercing glances. The bus drove away and she adjusted her coat and walked to her destination. The redhead glanced at the streets, despite all these years, Gotham City had become a hell on earth. From the incidents in which the city burned; thus baptized by the media, the flames could not be extinguished. What the Joker had accomplished left a people marked who, under his ideals, followed his word as faithful devotees.

At an accelerated pace the redhead arrived at her destination, the preschool of the city. She entered the garden and when she looked at one of the teachers she greeted her with a big smile.

"Mrs. Davis!"

"Hello Miss Ellis," she replied. "I come for my child."

"Sure ma'am, come in, Artie is waiting for you. Today he got two little stars." Grace outlined a wonderful smile. "Two little stars?"

"Yes! One for his drawings and one for good behavior."

The two entered the building and walking down the hall, the need to see his son emerged. She listened to the laughter and the happy shrieks of the children, hastened her steps and, upon arriving at the classroom, distinguished in the window his little son playing with his classmates. The class teacher attended to several children when she noticed her workmate and her companion.

"Hi, good morning, Mrs. Davis."

"Good morning, Miss Kyle." Miss Ellis said goodbye and resumed her work. Miss Kyle approached Grace and called Artie, who quickly turned around and with a big smile, looked at his mother. "Mommy!"

The little boy got up from his chair and ran to hug his mother. Grace knelt down, spread her arms and wrapped her son in a warm hug, kissed her chestnut and wavy hair and the joy emanated from her son made her withering day shine.

"Mommy!" He called as he raised his head, brought his little finger to his forehead and saw the two decals of little stars. His eyes, of a light grayish color, emerged an unsurpassed glow. "Look, two little stars."

"Yes Artie, Miss Ellis told me. You behaved very well today," she said full of pride. "Yeah! I also drew and my drawings liked Miss Kyle."

"Oh my love, I want to see what you drew. Go for them and your backpack, okay?"

The little one quickly affirmed, turned around and ran for his things. Grace stood up, shook her skirt and looked at the teacher, who maintained a tender smile.

"Thank you for today, Miss."

"Don't thank me Mrs. Davis. Artie is a very good boy."

The little boy arrived, he carried his small backpack in his hand and in the other his drawings, he handed his mother the papers and she looked it sideways as she put his winter clothes on. Artie kept talking about what he had done today in kindergarten, Grace raised the closure of her jacket, put his hat on then the scarf and finally the gloves and she smiled at the adventures her son was telling her.

"Say goodbye to Miss Kyle."

"See you on Monday, Miss!" He exclaimed as he said goodbye with his hand. "See you on Monday, Artie. And remember to bring your favorite toy to share it."

"Yes!"

Grace said goodbye to the teacher and they both left the building to go to the bus stop. Once they were both walking, the redhead held her son's hand firmly and he was jumping happily while singing a song that had been taught in class. Arriving at the corner, Artie suddenly stopped his happy moment when he noticed several people wearing clown masks adorning their faces. The little one began to shake and Grace noticed it. She felt the fear harboring her, despite the years, those masks were still existing. Artie began to tremble and an expression for crying came up, Grace bent down, carried her son and leaned his head between her shoulder and neck.

"My love, nothing happens. They are not real clowns."

She heard Artie's sobs and certain people in that group looked at the redhead and her son. Feeling the frivolous glances, Grace appreciated how the traffic light had changed and walked quickly to get to the bus stop; Artie was afraid of clowns, and every time they ran into those kinds of people, he cried to see those masks or their painted faces.

They arrived at the bus stop and the bus arrived at the moment. Grace thanked and got on, took a seat in mediation and began to comfort Artie to control. The boy carved his eyes, which were painted red by his tears, Grace smiled and attached her nose to his to rub them amusedly. Artie smiled and Grace remembered the drawings, opened the sheets and looked at everything he had done. She began to ask how he had decided to color a lion, a house and other things and Artie was entertained all the way telling her the realization of his drawings.

They arrived at home. Grace had moved to apartments far from the metropolis, almost outside the city, when Artie was born. For more security. The place was a little smaller than where she used to live, but for her and her son it was perfect. Artie threw her backpack on the couch, began to take off all her winter clothes and Grace put her coat aside.

"Mommy, will we go to the zoo tomorrow?"

"Sure honey, I had already promised you. And you deserve it more for behaving well in kindergarten."

"Hurray!" He exclaimed happily as he sat on the couch. Grace smiled warmly. "I want to see the lions! And your mommy?"

"I want to see the bears," she said as she sat beside him. "Me too!" The little boy pounced on his mother and hugged her. Grace did not avoid smiling and also hugged him. Artie was her adoration and her reason for living.

Artie was watching television in what Grace was preparing the dinner. The little boy sang and played next to Sesame Street and, sometimes, the redhead watched him. Artie always a very cheerful child. While the meat and vegetables were fried, the doorbell rang and the chills invaded Grace. She pushed the pan away from the fire and took a small knife, which she hid in the bag of her apron. She walked nervously to the door and through the peephole she distinguished the old Mr. Kersh. She sighed with relief and removed the insurance.

"Mr. Kersh," she greeted with a gentle smile. "Glad to see you."

"How are you, my child? It had been a long time since I gave you a visit."

"All is pretty fine. Come in, I was just preparing dinner." The old man entered and Artie looked astonished at the visitor. "Grandpa!" He exclaimed as he got up from the ground. He ran to him and hugged him. "Oh, Artie! You grew faster, you almost knocked me out."

The little boy laughed and led his grandfather Bob to take a seat next to him on the couch. Grace left the knife in the kitchen and went to the living room to talk to Mr. Kersh for a moment, but it was impossible, Artie kept telling him about everything he had done. The old Mr. Kersh took a moment of calm to give the boy a gift, excited Artie took his gift and opened it with a lot of energy. The little boy finished unwrapping the gift and looked at a pack of cars.

"How do you say, Artie?" Grace said as she sat down. "Thanks Grandpa Bob!" He exclaimed with a big smile. "I'm glad you liked it, little one."

Artie approached her mother and asked her to open the package, she did it and handed the carts to her son, who happily prepared to play carts on the carpet in the middle of the living room. Grace and Mr. Kersh smiled and began to talk.

"How is everything, child?"

"Good, Mr. Kersh. You know, I am working, Artie in preschool. Everything is going normal. And how are you doing in the city?" The man sighed bitterly and she suspected it. "To say well is to deceive you. The city is bullshit since..." He stopped and looked awkwardly at the woman, "that."

"I know, it's similar here. Not as common as it will be there but it is." She sighed and rested her arm on the edge of the chair." Everywhere is a crap."

Grace bit her lower lip and looked at her son who kept playing. She began to slightly move one of his legs and Mr. Kersh sensed it.

"Do you want to know about him?" She stopped her trembling and placed her gaze on the man. "He's still locked up, isn't he?" Mr. Kersh nodded calmly. "I have nothing to know."

"I noticed you anxious ... Grace, my child ..."

"No, Mr. Kersh, I'm not anxious."

"I understand how you feel. My concern is the same as yours, otherwise it wouldn't have helped you move here. But I also understand that you share a very big bond with him."

"I know ... in the last five years, I've only been afraid. Afraid that one day he will find me and my son ... has you seen everything he has done in the city, hasn't you? I just want to believe he's still locked up. As I have always done ..."

"Three years ago they tried to get him out of the psychiatric, remember?" She nodded. "His followers keep insisting." Mr. Kersh sighed and put his hands on his knees. "I don't want to scare you, but they say he enters and leaves that place as if nothing, as if it were his house. But they are rumors ..." Grace remained serious and he looked at her boy. "Don't bother for this, Artie looks a lot like him."

"I know..."

"He also has your resemble, but his is more prevails," the redhead nodded softly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. After all, he is his son," she said seriously as she dropped her arm. She snorted and showed her best smile. "Are you staying for dinner with us?"

"If you wish so."

"Of course." She stood up and headed to finish dinner.

Dinner began, the conversations became calmer and focused on Artie, who loved to talk. And while dinner continued, outside the building where Grace live, there were two men guarding the place. They sat in the neighboring pavement and smoked quietly. Time passed and they watched as Mr. Kersh left the building, they waited for the man to walk away and they both looked at each other.

"Call the boss," one of them released. The other nodded and went to a public telephone.

It was bath time, Artie played with her new cars and other toys in the tub, and Grace was carving his hair and played with the foam to continue entertaining his child while singing his favorite lullaby:

"London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London Bridge is falling down. My fair lady."

After the bath, the redhead wrapped her son in a towel and they go to bed, she put his pajamas on and went to the room ready for bedtime. Artie lay on his bed and Grace handed his favorite stuffed animal for that time, one of a bunny. She took the book they would read tonight and the little boy settled into his mother's chest to look at the drawings in that book. Within fifteen minutes, Artie fell into the world of dreams and Grace accommodated him avoiding waking him.

Once his head was on the pillow, she put the book away and also got ready to sleep. She settled next to her son and hugged him. As she watched him she remembered what Mr. Kersh had mentioned to her, Artie was a vivid image of him. Maybe a little of her features combined with his, however, he represented his father a lot. Undoubtedly. She removed the hair that was in his son's face and he continued slept peacefully. Grace kissed his cheek and lay her forehead on the little head so she closed her eyes and Grace tried to rest. Since Artie was born, sleeping had stopped being pleasant for her. Grace had only lived between mortifications and fears because he would be reappeared.

A/N:

Thank you so much for reading. I will be deeply grateful with any comments, constructive criticism, opinions and / or suggestions :3