(One Week Later)
John Blake was adamant Bruce Wayne was still alive. After discovering the bat cave, he realized this was only the beginning. Eventually someone would be needed again to take his place. Since Batman had saved the city from the League of Shadows, John had retired from the police force. Lately, he had been focusing much of his time on transforming Wayne Manor into a school for orphan boys. In fact, Alfred had moved back into Wayne Manor to assist John.
As an orphan himself, John wanted to give back to the Wayne foundation that funded his schooling as a child. It gave him a sense of satisfaction to know that he could help hundreds of boys receive clean clothing, good food, and a safe environment for learning.
Back in the city, Commissioner Gordon had reorganized the police force and done his best to clean up the political sphere. It had been a year since the bomb had exploded miles off the coast of the city and Gotham's crime rates had dropped to an all time low… Everything was settling, improving and the economy was making progress.
Up until a few days ago.
Before it was even made public, John received the call from the commissioner. His heart sank.
"He escaped?"
"Details aren't clear yet. We're still working on the crime scene,
but he had connections on the inside."
There was a silence on both ends.
"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."
"I will. Stay safe, protect the boys."
The conversation was short, but John knew what was coming next. His renovations of the batcave had been an intuitive move and a smart one. However, he never expected to be putting on the suit so soon. And he knew he wouldn't be a hero. Batman hadn't been a hero. He had been the malleable force that balanced chaos and justice. He sacrificed himself for the city. Of all things, John knew for certain he was willing to do that too.
When the Joker's escape from Arkham finally made the news, the newest Mayor did all he could to assure the public that the situation was under control. But the people protested for Batman, for their masked crusader, to return. Their trust in the police was shaky at best.
Ultimately the news ignited a resurgence of crime and brutality. Menacing red graffiti smiles appeared throughout the city.
As the days passed at the charter school, John did his best to hide his concerns around the boys. During school days he would survey the grounds, check up on staff, work on schedules, file reports and catch up on the news. Lately his only reprieve was enjoying walks on the beach. He would trace the outskirts of Wayne manor, immersing himself in the solitude. Since the Joker's escape, he had become more and more focused on improving the bat cave and training for an imminent confrontation.
On one particular gray morning, John watched seagulls dancing playfully over the incoming waves. The tide was higher than usual due to the nearing full moon. As he picked up a pebble along the shore, preparing to throw it into the tumbling waves, he suddenly froze. Off in the distance he saw a small woman washed up on the far side of the beach, clutching a piece of driftwood. The rock dropped back onto the sand as he ran towards her.
I'm not sure how I managed to survive my trip from the harbor, to the open ocean, to the shore. The past two weeks had been a nightmare. I remember coughing up a lot of water. Palms pressing on my chest, lips on mine. If I hadn't hung onto that piece of driftwood and forced myself to stay conscious in the frigid waters, I knew I wouldn't have made it. My wound was still bleeding despite the makeshift tourniquet.
After emptying my lungs onto the sand, I looked up at my rescuer. A very attractive man. Muscular, slicked back brown hair, deep brown eyes. If there had been more blood in my body I would have blushed profusely. However, as soon as I had regained consciousness I was swept off my feet and carried towards a giant Mansion. He quickly led me in through a balcony entrance. In seconds, he yelled for an older man to collect some medical supplies for me.
"We need to get you to the hospital," the younger man said.
"Please, no.." I managed, shaking my head. "It's not safe."
He looked closely at me, assessing my state. I certainly looked like I could be a little crazy. Since my encounter with the Joker, I had cut my long brown hair, bleached it haphazardly, dyed it a pastel shade of pink. I didn't want anyone to know who I was anymore. I didn't want to be a Falcone. I wanted to be a nobody.
"What's your name?" He asked, crouching by my side. "My name is John. John Blake. I work here at the Wayne Charter School for Orphaned Boys. I promise you, you're safe here. You don't have to worry about anything happening to you."
I hesitated at first, but I knew the only way to avoid the hospital would be to get his attention.
"Lucy," I responded. "Lucy Falcone."
The story I recalled for John did not include meeting the Joker. I wasn't sure if I was terrified of the Joker finding out or worried about losing my safety net.
I told John that I had been hiding out from the mob, running away from my past. I didn't want to be a part of that lifestyle anymore. I didn't want to end up dead or in Arkham like my father. My streak of luck ran out the night before, when I hoped to meet some of my old friends at a local club. Exchanging money for a fake ID, I was hoping they would be able to smuggle me out of the city. Protection or not, Gotham was the worst place I could be. I couldn't stay in the city.
I had made my way to The Lucky Dog using back alleys, weaving in and out of the shadows. I knew the area well, and I knew it was a comfortable distance away from where the mob liked to do business. Opening the red doors, it was a darker and dingier than I had remembered it. Multi-colored lights were pulsing to loud dance music as a younger crowd packed the dancefloor. Instant anxiety. I took a deep breath and made my way towards the meeting spot.
They were there alright.
My friends from high school, Derek and Skylar, embraced me with a warm welcoming hug. They had dated back in the day and despite not working out, had remained very close friends. Both of them worked in the biomedical field from what I remembered, but had friends of friends with black market connections. We talked for a bit and eventually asked them about the ID. They inquired about the money I promised and I told them I had it stashed outside. As long as I knew they had what I needed I'd lead them to the stash. They showed me the ID and after I was satisfied, I led them out a side door.
That was when I started to tell John about a distorted, edited version of the night's events:
Whoever had been tipped off about my whereabouts had offered Skylar and Derek much more money than I ever could have given them. I did my best to flee the scene, fighting off some of the men who came to collect me. When they eventually started shooting, I ran. I ran until I couldn't run anymore. To the peers of Gotham harbor. I had no choice but to jump into the freezing bay in hopes I could swim to safety.
Luckily I was able to make it to a piece of stray driftwood and hide behind it until they were satisfied that I was not coming up for air. Unfortunately I had been hit in the shoulder by a stray bullet as they were firing into the water. Wrapping my wet scarf around my wound as a tourniquet, I drifted as far as I could away from the center of the city, towards a far off lighthouse. I barely made it out alive.
I felt the slightest bit guilty about hiding all the details. His eyes were so warm and empathetic. He was relieved to see me alive.
But what really happened would probably have set off a lot of alarms in this man's head…
"By the way, I love the new look, Lucy, " Skylar said smiling, pulling a cigarette from her pack. "Pink looks good on you."
I rolled my eyes and smiled. "Thanks Skylar. I wish it was a fashion statement not an identity crisis." She lit the cigarette and eyed Derek who was busy eyeing some scantily dressed girls twerking on the dancefloor. "Follow me," I said "we can make the exchange outside. This place is giving me PTSD from high school…" We stood from our seats, heading for a side entrance. The music had been far too loud. Making deals around wasted college students felt dirtier than the transaction needed to be.
As Skylar and Derek followed me outside into a back alleyway, I was relieved at the amount of space, fresh air and silence there was in comparison to the club.
But It was short lived.
Walking in front of them had been my first mistake, as I heard a gun cock from behind me.
"I'm sorry Luce, money is tight right now. Stop running from your past…" Derek had said. It almost sounded apologetic, though it was beyond forgiveness.
Black buicks pulled had blocked the entrance to the alley. I saw a few familiar faces emerging from the cars.
"Gigs up, Lucille." Said one of them in a heavy city accent. I shook my head. I knew what would happen if they took me back. Death would be better.
Derek grabbed onto my arms before I had a chance to run. I struggled to free myself without much success. That's when I heard machine gun fire in the distance. There was a lot of screaming as a few onlookers ran from the club.
Men in clown masks emerged from behind the Buicks, firing violently into the group of mobsters.
"It's the Joker!" I heard one of them yelp. Men hid behind cars for cover and the glass windows of cars began to shatter as the two groups exchanged gunfire. I caught Derek off guard, releasing my hand from his, using my free hand to punch him square in the nose. Derek retaliated by punching me in the gut, releasing the air from my lungs. I caught myself from falling and went for a knee to his balls. That worked well enough. Skylar did her best to block me from heading back into the club but I shoved her against the door, hard. She fell to the ground with a thud.
I made my way back inside, hoping to find another way out. Pushing through crowds of people. I heard more gunshots firing from the front of the club. As I crouched down and made my way between figures, the crowd began to part.
Machine gun in hand, there he was.
"I didn't think I'd have to make a house call so soon, Luce." He shot bullets at the ceiling, people scattering left and right. I had no idea what to do as he walked towards me. I was frozen in place.
"Nice hairdo. Suits you better."
He held out his free gloved hand toward me, beckoning me to take it. I gulped. Seeing no other way out, I took it. Covered from all sides by his thugs, he led me outside. Shooting and skipping as he went. I bobbed behind him.
"Why are you doing this?" I yelled as he picked me up by the waste and threw me into a van. Without a word he winked shut the doors behind me. It was quiet for a few moments until I heard more gunshots. I tried to open the van doors but they were locked. I cursed. More shots. The van doors opened again but this time it was the mobster I had recognized. He pointed his gun at me.
"Time to g-" he fell to the ground as a rain of bullets ripped into his side. I wasn't sure what had come over me, but amidst the gunfire I made a run for it. I ran as fast as I could down a street that led to the docks. An abandoned harbor with little cover.
"Lucy!" Yelled a voice from behind me. Skylar emerged from the shadows, holding a gun. She was limping as she cocked the gun and pointed it towards me with a shaky hand. I hadn't realized how far I had backed away from her, as I felt my feet reach the end of the docks. The rotting wood was more slippery than I had imagined.
"What the fuck are you doing, Skylar?! Stop this! I thought we were friends?!"
"You're nothing but mob trash, Lucy. You always have been." she spat, pulling the trigger. I heard the bullet and a pressure on my arm as I stumbled backwards. But before I could register her brains scattered on the pavement, I was falling into the water. I could have sworn I was the Joker emerging from the alley with a machine gun.
As I fell into the ice cold water, I heard the muffled sound of gunshots as I drifted further away. The current quickly pulled me out of the harbor and into the bay.
I wanted to die then. I'd sink to the bottom of Gotham harbor and be forgotten. Was I truly nothing but mob trash? As I closed my eyes, feeling the urge to breathe in the frigid seawater.
At first I heard it softly in the distance. Then it grewer clearer and louder until I could finally register it. It was my mother's voice.
Swim, Lucy. Swim. Don't give up. Not now.
I let out the last precious breath of my air from my lungs but fought the urge to sink. Shocked, I did as I was told, pulling myself towards the surface. Miraculously there was a piece of driftwood floating nearby. Sobbing, I tied my scarf around the bullet wound like a tourniquet and swam towards the lighthouse in the distance.
John passed me a cup of herbal tea. It tasted terrible but he assured me it would help combat any infection.
"Thank you for saving me," I replied. Taking another sip of the warm tea. I was wrapped in a blanket feeling somewhat dazed. They had removed the bullet and bandaged my shoulder. It hadn't hit any major arteries, the older gentlemen assured me, and it should heal in time. His name was Alfred Pennyworth. Bruce Wayne's butler. I was inside Wayne manor. It felt surreal.
Derek screamed as he received another blow to the stomach. Tied up and raised to meet the eyes of his captors, tears ran down his face as he let out stifled sobs.
"Please! I've told you everything I know!" he whimpered.
The thugs surrounding the man in the dim lamp light were relentless. It was only when the sound of footsteps were heard did the beating stop. Derek's eyes widened, staring at the freshly applied makeup around the Joker's mangled face. The Joker skipped towards his hanging form and began to swing it back and forth playfully.
"Derek, Derek, Derek. Not a very nice way to treat your friends."
Swinging helplessly he moaned in pain. "Do you want to know how I got my scars? You see, my father didn't like when things were out of place in the house." The swinging lessened as the Joker pulled out a knife from his suit pocket.
"One rainy, boring day back when I was an innocent little boy, I decided to play with a jack in the box my father had on top of one of the shelves… it was an antique piece. He had been a clown in the circus, you see, before the drink got him."
The Joker stopped swinging his body, to hold his mouth open with the knife, humming the Jack-in-the-box song under his breath.
"When he came home from the bar and saw that it was missing… Do you know what he did?"
Derek was now crying uncontrollably as the Joker was wedging the knife further under one of his cheeks.
"He didn't like that. Not one bit. He said, 'son', holding the knife up to me just like this, 'why can't you make your own fun?' I hated my father, but he taught me one very important lesson…" with that he slashed the knife across Derek's cheeks, revealing the gaping insides of his mouth.
"Don't take other people's toys."
