Disclaimer:I do not own any Batman Begins/Dark Knight characters. All other characters are mine.
Thank you everyone who is still with me on this story, I know it's been a bit of a wait. It's been a mixture of homework and the flu from hell, but I'm super excited to bring you guys the last few chapters, hopefully, fairly close together.
Keep reading, and please leave reviews of any kind!
Stay Amazing! XOXOXO- Improbable Dreamer
Cat sprinted down the dark hallway, finally stopping in-between two of Joker's thugs. They nodded at her, large assault rifles at the ready, and she saw fear pass their eyes as the SWAT team clambered up the stairwell a few feet below them.
"Ready for hell boys?"
They nodded after a moment, before one of the men grabbed her arm rather unexpectedly.
"Miss Morgan."
The formality shocked her, and Cat tried to discern the identity of the round-faced man with tattoos creeping up his neck. He had a head of curly black hair and stood at least 6 feet, giving him a kind, if gruff, appearance. After a while she was barely able to name him as one of the men who administered her hourly beating when she was being tortured.
"Douglass?"
He nodded, fear shaking his voice.
"I just wanna say…sorry for all that crap…and for any other crap these men have ever done. You're alright, I mean you scare the shit out of me, but in an inspiring way, y'know? And if Joker, well you know he's the dangerous type, if he loses it or if he gets himself killed…I just wanna tell ya, I'd be happy to call you 'Boss'."
She smiled, genuinely flattered. Fear was an easy motivator, but respect was always the more vicious compeller. A respected person becomes a legend, a feared person becomes a threat.
"I'll hold you to that Douglass, and one day maybe you'll fight for me. Today, however, fight with me."
His grip on the gun tightened, his face a mask of inspired determination. His partner too seemed to stand a little taller at her words.
"Sure thing, Miss Morgan."
She nodded at them one final time, her jaw clenched and her eyes resolute, before marching down the corridor with her trade-mark whip swinging at her hips. The clinking sound of the chain echoed down the hall, and she watched in mesmerised interest as each of Joker's men straightened their stance and seemed to gain confidence or determination from the whip's echo. Cat felt pride twinge within her stomach, and finally she understood Joker's previous words.
I'm an idea.
She was a legend now, a symbol, the image of her whip was now recognised, a name she had built that would remain long after she did. She was Cat Morgan, serial killer, notorious criminal, she was more than just the sister of a boy who killed himself.
The last image that flashed in her mind, as she ran at an approaching cluster of SWAT members, was the gravestone from her toxin-induced visions.
'Beloved Sister'.
She would be more than that, she would be so much more than that.
Cat Morgan ripped through the policeman like a hot knife through butter, throwing their broken bodies to the ground and perfectly firing bullets through their right eyes. She rolled and ducked beneath flying bullets, and was pleasantly surprised to find out that the SWAT members were utter shit at hand-to-hand combat.
"Look out!"
Cat turned towards the warning, dropping a SWAT onto his back. Before she had time to react, a small figure was bounding towards her at lightening speeds, knocking her beside the fallen SWAT member. Cat stared at the ceiling in a daze, and after three seconds the hall shook with a violent demolition blast that sent shards of glass and plaster zipping around the room.
"Woo!" A husky voice cheered above her, and a hand was offered near Cat's arm. She took the invitation gratefully and hauled herself to her feet, looking around at the consequences of the blast. Six men had been caught in the bombs radius and were now scattered rather gruesomely around the corridor.
'Bomb appetite, bitches."
Cat finally turned on her heel to face her saviour, and found a surprising sight. The girl was in her early twenties, perhaps a year or two younger than Cat, she was short, curvy, and had a beautiful wholesomeness to her appearance. Her lipstick was matte and bright red, contrasting shockingly against her dark skin, and her chocolate-coloured hair was shoulder length and consisted of volumized curls.
"Thanks." Cat found her manners, smiling brightly at the girl, she smirked in response and stuck a match behind her ear.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, look we can snog later." And she knelt down with a second match, struck it on her brown hiking boots, and lit a fuse that snaked down the corridor.
"Matches? A bit behind times, aren't you?" Cat laughed in disbelief, watching the girl extinguish the match with her fingertips and stick it behind her ear again.
"What can I say?" She shrugged with another smirk, as the room opposite exploded in a flurry of orange flames, "I like big booms." She extended a hand laden with silver rings, and shook Cat's own hand sturdily. "The name's Cherry."
Cat opened her mouth to introduce herself, but was interrupted yet again by a shout behind her shoulder.
"Miss Morgan!"
Douglass came sprinting down the corridor, his rifle bouncing humourously in his muscular arms. His tall figure paused between the two girls, glancing at Cat with a sort of protective-worry.
"What's all this 'Miss' shit?" Cherry grinned, popping a lump of pink bubblegum between her teeth.
"And what are you supposed to be? 'Asian James Bond'?" She continued to smirk as Douglass stared daggers down at her, despite the substantial height difference, Cherry was in no way intimidated.
"Want me to shoot her, Miss Morgan?" He hissed, distrust filling his expression. His right eye was red and bruising around the edges, a deep cut ran from his ear to the bottom of his jaw.
Cat felt an overwhelming swell of affection for him and smiled at Douglass gratefully, before surely shaking her head.
"Thanks, but it seems like we might need her."
At her words, Cherry raised her eyebrows at him mockingly, blowing a large pink bubble and smacking it with her lips.
"'Till next time, Sugar." She snarled, before winking at Cat and turning on her heel. "Bomb voyage, bitches."
Cat laughed airily, shaking her head and watching Cherry's retreating strut. She turned back to Douglass, who was also watching the 'demolitions-expert' walk down the hall.
"I can still hit her from here, just say the word."
Cat smiled at him, and noticed a number of bracelets peaking from below his coat sleeves. There were a number of colourful bands, including some in support of different foundations and causes. She frowned, quizzically, trying to assess the reason behind a criminal having a moral value; and then again, it was hard to judge, given her own situation.
"Patrol this hall for me." Cat decided to leave the questions for later, and was fairly conscious that no matter what, Douglass had to survive this firefight. She would do anything to keep him alive.
'Sweetheart.'
A voice crackled from her walkie-talkie, Cat jumped at the noise and had forgotten, in all the chaos, that she was awaiting orders.
"I'm here."
'Our favourite flying rodent is on his way.'
Joker's voice sounded odd and faraway. echoing as if he was shouting into a chasm. From the other end, she could also discern the sirens and general noises of traffic, as well as gusts of violent wind.
"Everything okay?"
'Oh absolutely,' His enthusiasm sounded slightly forced. 'Just hanging around. Take care of the Batman and I'll come and pick you up personally, I promise.'
"S-sure." Cat stammered, mildly alarmed by the lack of surety in Joker's reassurance. "I'll contact you in a bit." She flicked over her wrist to check the time, and noted that her watch revealed that it was well past midnight.
"What happened with the boats?"
He laughed curtly, and yet sounded oddly disheartened. 'I guess we both underestimated Batman, don't worry, we'll both be fine.'
She swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat, and Cat felt a trickle of dread run down her back like ice water. It was all unravelling, far too quickly and unpredictably. Cat lowered the device and chewed her lip in nervous thought.
'W-wait.'
She brought the walkie-talkie up again, nervousness thrashing through her stomach like a storm; Joker almost sounded...afraid.
'I just…It's…'
Cat realised that she was holding her breath and quickly let out in a deep sigh to fight off the dizziness that threatened her.
'I want to…Y-you…' She heard him audibly sigh before continuing his train of thought.
'...Give him hell.'
Cat thought of something to say, anything that could measure up to the emotions that raged within her. Eventually, her messy thoughts faded into an ocean of white noise and she re-clipped her walkie-talkie to her belt, turning to the stairwell to her left.
"I'm…I'm going to the roof." Cat blinked reality back into her eyes, aware that Douglass was gazing at her with a face full of concern. "Patrol this hall…keep SWAT out of my way."
He opened his mouth to reply, rethought his remark, and closed it again without a word. Instead, he reached an arm over and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.
"Good luck, I'll be-"
He was cut off abruptly by a violent explosion behind them. A bullet blasted towards her and lodged itself in the wall of cement behind them. Douglass turned to their attacker with adrenaline-fueled speed. "Run, Miss Morgan, run!" He fired a series of rounds towards the three SWAT men and forward-rolled, ducking behind the corner cover of the hall.
Cat stumbled for a moment, turning to look at the bullet in the wall directly behind her. Its brass shell was coated in red. The white wall was splattered with blood, as if painted messily by a spray can.
She sighed deeply, as pain exploded from her hip.
"Fuck me."