Disclaimer: I do not own any Batman Begins/Dark Knight characters. All other characters are mine.
The second that Cat entered the party, several strangers with dripping diamond necklaces and crisp suits glided over to her.
"Miss Morgan," An elderly gentleman with a snowy beard shook her hand vigorously. "So good to meet you, I'm sure that as 'Mr Wayne's lovely girl', you would convince him of the benefits of our corporation. You see, our trust fund is of a whole new creation- "
"Ah, Mr Labowski, I see you found my girlfriend."
Bruce stepped between the two of them, taking Mr Labowski's arm in a firm grip and shaking it professionally.
Bruce directed a subtly nod at Cat, she smiled gratefully and took this rescue as an opportunity to turn and run for the buffet table.
After a few salt and pepper shrimp skewers, the party suddenly didn't seem so horrible.
She was halfway through a 'grilled scallop wrapped in Spanish ham', when a woman in a pretty green gown walked over.
"Hi, Caterina?"
Her mouth was full, so she smiled awkwardly and attempted to recognise the girl in front of her.
"Oh, I'm Rachel."
Cat swallowed quickly, dropping the friendly facade. Rachel was prettier than Cat would've liked. Her mouse-brown hair was tied up in an elegant 'side ponytail'. Her eyes, of course, were blue and rimmed with dark lashes.
"Bruce has told me so much about you." Cat lied, smiling falsely. For some reason this remark made Rachel's own smile waver.
"Then I hope this isn't awkward."
Cat frowned, perplexed.
"W-why would it be awkward?" She asked, laughing nervously.
Rachel shrugged a shoulder and crossed her arms, obviously uncomfortable.
"It's just that with Bruce and I dating for a while- oh don't worry I've moved completely." She attempted to reassure her when Cat's face darkened and her lips pursed. "I'm dating Harvey."
Rachel nodded to a handsome man in the middle of the crowded room. "And hey, if Bruce ever hurts you come to me, I'll straighten him out."
The smile meant that Rachel was reassuring her, attempting to form some sort of friendly bond.
But Bruce reassured her that Rachel was just an 'old friend', why would he lie if it truly was over between them?
Cat grabbed a second glass of champagne and downed it remarkably quickly. When she looked up to face Rachel again, another person was at her side and smiling down at Cat; Harvey Dent, with his perfect blonde hair and kind grey eyes.
"Mr Dent," Cat was genuinely happy to be meeting him and was, this time, the enthusiastic one to shake his hand. "All that work you did with the case, you locked up Salvatore Maroni, not to mention 549 felonies, and the way it passed as 'conspiracy' is just…"
She trailed off, realising that her babble would be too quick to be understood in any shape or form.
"Hey, I'm just doing my part for the city." Dent responded with a charming smile and he slipped an arm around Rachel's waist. "Protecting the things I love isn't work…it's a privilege."
Rachel was smiling at him with wistful eyes and Cat realised, rather unexpectedly, that she had never looked so hopelessly in love, so impossibly infatuated, as Rachel was in that moment, not even with Bruce.
"Excuse me for a moment." Cat turned around again and tried to escape, but there were so many people, so many crowding bodies and loud conversations. It was thrashing about inside her, the scream to get out.
To breathe.
To find somewhere quiet.
To be alone.
It rose up her throat and down again like a vomit of insecurity. Cat elbowed her way through the crowd, the bathroom being her target for release. The glass of champagne was clutched so tightly between her fingers, her knuckles were white, her mind was racing and something was pushing against her throat.
Then it all stopped.
As if someone had pressed the mute button, the blaring party was nothing more than a muffled hum.
The edges of her vision were oddly blurred and dark, like she was viewing everything from below water. Her breathing pattern steadied, and she managed to turn back to the party, her mind wonderfully numb.
Cat was aware, vaguely, of someone calling her name. It was low and quiet, like the breeze, and didn't even cause her to blink.
Instead she was distracted by a man a few feet in front of her. He had his head bowed, his hands in his suit pockets. Around him, party goers were laughing and drinking the night away but the man simply stood.
She thought it odd, until finally he began to turn.
Slowly.
Dreadfully slowly.
The eyes struck her first, coal-black and smudged with inky paint.
Her breath caught in her throat and she choked on it, while the man's red-smeared mouth stretched itself into a demonic grin.
"It's him!" She tried to shout, but the words, much like her own breath, were caught between her chest and her mouth.
"It's…." Cat dropped the glass she didn't know she was carrying and wondered why the guests were all looking at her rather than the psychopathic murderer that was now doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down his eyes and diluting the chalky paint.
"Someone has to stop him."
She tried to pull against the force that was holding her near the bathroom, it was clutching at her arm and yelling at her loudly. "Someone has to- "
"CAT!"
She was roughly pulled to the ground, slipping on her heels and landing painfully on her behind. The room slowly re-entered focus. A crescent of bystanders had formed in front of the bathroom, the entire party was staring at her with shocked and appalled expressions.
The Joker was no longer among the crowd, and Cat slowly began to realize that he was never there to begin with.
"Caterina?" Bruce was kneeling beside her, a hand on her arm and face of concern.
"I-I'm okay." Her voice shook, "I just…my brother."
She felt an intense wave of guilt while using her own brother's death to excuse her fit, but Bruce was convinced and he released her arm.
"Don't worry everyone," He turned to the now gossiping crowd. "She just got a bit overwhelmed, show them a smile sweetheart."
And she did, a small, pathetic excuse for a smile.
"I think I need some sleep." Cat turned back to Bruce once the majority of the observers had departed. "Mind if I bow out?"
"Go ahead." And he kissed her gently on the forehead.
She didn't sleep.
In the 2 hours that passed she didn't even change or take off her makeup. As soon as she met the bed, she collapsed into the sheets and buried her face in the fluffiest pillow she could find.
It was just a nervous breakdown, or a panic attack. This kind of thing happened frequently after Ashton's suicide, she saw him at the train station, bumped into him at the library, but why did it resurface now?
And why with him? Cat couldn't understand why this madman had such an influence over her.
"I must be going crazy."
And she wasn't sure if the shotgun blast she heard at that moment was real or not.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."
Cat peered around the edge of the hall to see what had caused all the guests to fall silent.
Guarding the hall and blocking Cat's view, where a large number of heavily armed thugs in clown masks. They were roughly pacing amongst the people and brandishing shotguns.
"We are tonight's entertainment."
A head of dishevelled green-stained hair passed by the guard in front of Cat, and she tried not to scream.
"I just have one question: Where is Harvey Dent?"
The party guests remained silent, causing Joker to swing his shotgun into their faces and try to threaten the answer out of them.
Cat should've turned and locked herself in the bedroom, they hadn't seen her and she could easily slip out of sight.
She drew her ankle quietly out of her heel and was grateful for the sound reduction of her tights. The heels were held tightly in her arms, she was careful careful not to drop them and alert the men to her presence.
Cat turned, and took her first few steps back up the hall. In fact, she would've made it all the way to the bedroom had she not heard Rachel's voice rise above the hushed murmurs.
"Stop." Rachel stepped ahead of the crowd, her arms crossed and her jaw clenched defiantly.
"What the hell are you doing?" Cat whispered, eyes wide.
The Joker turned from Mr Labowski, who he had been threatening, and faced her with a bemused smile. "Well, hello beautiful."
She felt an odd twinge in her stomach as Joker flirted with Rachel, circling her slowly and recounting a dreadful story about his wife.
It wasn't until he held the sharp blade against her cheek that Cat finally found her feet.
She could've burst into the center of the circle with objections, like Rachel had, but that didn't do a lot of good for her.
Cat slowly picked up a butter knife from a nearby food table and held it against her palm.
The circle of criminals seemed unbreakable, but after completing a full round undetected, she saw that near the elevator there was a small unnoticeable gap.
Did she think she could stop them all?
No, of course not.
But she knew that their only hope was a masked vigilante who wasn't great on response time, if she could buy the Batman a few moments and save Rachel, then even the craziest plan would be effective.
With the knife's cool handle held securely against her palm, she closed her eyes, and dashed forwards into the centre of the crowd.
Cat was relying heavily on the fact that her outstretched arm would hit something vital, preferably a heart, and kept her eyes squeezed closed in fright.
There was impact, and she felt fabric brush against her wrist.
"My, my." The dreadful voice crooned from above her. "Little kitty found her claws."
Finally, Cat opened her eyes and was mildly disturbed by her own work. The ornate silver knife jutted out of Joker's arm, impaled to the hilt and dripping with blood.
"You must be crazy."
He wrenched the knife out of his arm without so much of a wince, dropped it to the floor with a clang, and advanced upon her. "Luckily, that's my type."
She tried to wriggle herself out of the sudden side hug he'd pulled her into, a hand clamped painfully to her waist.
"Unless you want more cutlery shoved in unpleasant places, I suggest you let me go." Cat snarled.
Joker laughed harshly, and brought his lips near her ear, an unwelcome flush met her cheeks as he began to sing softly. "Here's to the crazy ones, the round pegs in square holes. Here's to the misfits fighting the status quo."
He twirled her violently and left her vision blurry. "Here's to the victims who no longer have to weep."
Joker lifted a knife and waved it at her playfully, a wicked grin stretched over his rippling mouth.
"Here's to little kitty cat, her sanity's only skin deep."
He brandished the knife again, raising it above his head in preparation to land it in her chest, Cat closed her eyes.
"Killing an unarmed girl? Joker you've reached a new low."
Joker snapped his head to the left and had a second to acknowledge the dark figure, before Batman caught him with a heavy blow.
Cat jumped back into the crowd to avoid getting spun to the ground and kicked in the head, like Joker. Batman threw the knife across the room and advanced upon the thugs, who were now stepping forwards with shotguns raised.
The brawl was quick, Cat could barely discern why each of Joker's men were falling to the ground. Batman was sidestepping punches, cracking forearms, leaving the thugs out cold on the floor.
Finally, Batman threw the Joker to the glass screen doors and Cat let out a breath she didn't know she was holding onto.
Unfortunately, both Cat and the Batman let their guard down too soon and Joker held up a second knife to the throat of Rachel Dawes, who was white as a sheet.
"Drop the knife." Batman warned, his gruff voice on the razor edge of enraged.
Rachel shook her head quickly, but too late. The Joker took this challenge and blasted away the pane of glass next to him with his shotgun, the sound of falling glass and Cat's own ringing ears were all she could here while the two opposing forces conversed. Batman made some sort of muffled demand, and Joker's response was a quip and a cold laugh, before he threw Rachel off the ledge and onto the sloping roof below.
"No." Two clear shouts rang out in the silence, Batman didn't hesitate to run at the window and dive down after her.
More silence followed.
Joker leaned over the balcony and let out a bark of laughter before turning back to the penthouse.
"That was fun."
He was breathing hard, clearly exhilarated, and he wiped away the blood running down his sweaty white makeup.
A few thugs had come to and were picking themselves up, groaning and cursing.
"We can't just let him go!" Somehow the man had kept his clown mask on, while both arms were now twisted at odd angles.
"We need to kidnap the bitch." Another, lanky criminal piped up while holding a bullet hole in his arm tightly. But Joker didn't respond, he was staring straight at Cat.
"Little kitty."
His soft voice echoed around the room and he slowly walked up to her, unblinking.
Cat's knees were shaking so badly and her head still buzzing with the gunshots, that she didn't register the threat until Joker had a firm grip on her arm and a gun pressed against her temple.
"I'm in the market for adoption," His smile stretched across his horrid scarred lips. "You're my kitty now."
He nodded to someone behind her. Cat felt a painful pinch in her neck and could barely register a cold syringe against her skin, and the knowledge that Batman had abandoned her, before blackness seeped into her vision and blissful sleep pulled her under.