John and Alfred offered to host me as I recovered from my ordeal, and I was very appreciative of it. As the days went on, I adjusted to life inside Wayne Manor. My shoulder was healing quite well despite the trauma and I spent much of my time exploring the grounds. When I wasn't roaming, I helped out in the kitchen, worked with the cleaning staff and dedicated a few of my more lively paintings to the charter school. The manor could feel dark at times, and I thought adding some color would do the whole compound some good.

John and Alfred were busy most days. Recently John had been working to keep Wayne enterprises up and running. He worked closely with Lucious Fox, who I had always wanted to meet. A genius and a genuinely nice guy, he worked on technological advancements for Gotham's security systems. As for Alfred, he was usually on errands or playing golf. For someone of his age, he was impressively active.

John had inquired further about my family. I decided it wasn't necessary to tell him the details of my past. Most of the memories brought up horrible images I'd worked so hard to suppress. Running from the mob because I was the daughter of the ex boss was convincing enough. I just wanted to enjoy a moment of peace with my new acquaintances. It was a nice feeling appreciated and safe.

Moments when I wasn't immersed in busywork, I thought a lot about my encounters with the Joker. Why was he helping me and why was I letting him? It wasn't like me to trust someone like him. Though he sure had gone out of his way for me.

The flashback I had of his childhood was not what I had expected it to be. Our childhoods were scarily similar. His mother was kind like mine, she called him Jackie. At home I was always Lucy. My mother never called me by my full name, Lucille. To our fathers I was Lucille and he was Jack, and both of our mothers had been killed in a similar fashion. I shook away the memories. Not now. I was happy.

One night I let myself be consumed again by my question. I found myself researching his history in Gotham, trying to piece together his story; where he grew up and who he was beforehand. Everything led to dead ends and more questions. It was like the memories I experienced were completely separate from reality of who he was now. I wanted access to the in between. It was truly becoming an obsession.

Around 10:30 I heard a knock at my door. I could hear the rumbles of thunder in the distance as a predicted nor'easter rolled in from the south. I placed my phone on the bed and got up to open my door. John stood in the doorway, a beer in each hand. He was smiling that devilishly handsome smile. Immediately flustered, all I could do was let out a bewildered laugh.

"May I come in?" He asked politely with that smirk on his face.

"Oh uh… of course" I mumbled, opening the door as he walked in. "This is your house" I added.

"This was Bruce Wayne's house. Now it's a school.. And yes, I also live here. But as long as you wish to stay, this is your room." He sat on a couch near my painting and threw me a beer.

"Anyways, I wanted to toast to your speedy recovery and to thank you for all the work you've been putting in around here." He said, cracking his beer. He held it up in a gesture of cheers. I cracked mine and we both took a sip.

"It's the least I can do, John. You saved my life and offered me a place to stay in this beautiful mansion. I wish I could help with more-"

"You've done more than enough!" he interjected. I went over and set on the couch next to him. As the storms rolled in we watched some of the lightning flash as the window pains threatened to burst open from the gusts of wind. He looked towards one of my unfinished paintings.

"Abstract?" He asked.

"Yes" I said, laughing. I sat next to him.

This particular series was darker than the rest. I could tell my paintings were taking on my inward feelings of guilt and secrecy eating at me. Each day the burden of keeping secrets felt heavier and heavier. We lingered on the painting for a few moments.

"Listen.." he said, breaking the silence, "I also wanted to tell you something". He said, leaning over to place his elbows on his thighs, the beer hanging in between his legs. I could see his biceps through his light blue button down.

"You don't have to run from your past, Lucy." He said, turning his head to meet mine. The comment was straightforward.

"What else is there for me to do? It's not like I can take them on all by myself." I said, leaning back.

"No, you can't do it by yourself, this is true." he said. "When I joined the police force, I wanted to tackle it all on my own. Everyone seemed to lag behind my instincts. I had this intuition that pushed me to want to do more than police the streets. Then I met Batman" he said, taking another sip of his beer.

"You met him?" I said excitedly as he grinned. This was something I had not expected.

"He taught me that this city needs to work together. It seemed like he worked alone but he didn't. He had friends in high places, helping him. Secretly supporting him the best ways they could. By working together, we realize we aren't alone. We find strength in each other… the strength to make real changes happen."

"I'm not following"

"Well, here's my proposal. If you decide to stay in Gotham… decide to stay here… I think we could make a good team."

I sat motionless for a few seconds, thunder rumbling in the distance.

"You're asking me to stay here so I can help you to take down the mob? Are you feeling ok?" I said. But John wasn't smiling. He was serious about this. "Why." I whispered.

"If you keep running, you'll never know what it feels like to be free of fear. It's a horrible way to live. Why let something control you when I… when you have the resources you need to help put these men behind bars." John said, putting his hand on mine.

Not again, I thought. Not now.

His touch triggered it.

A flash of John's memories went through my body.

Then it all made sense.

In that brief second, I already knew I knew too much.

"Hey, listen." He said, noticing my change in demeanor, "just think about it. It's an offer. I also have some good combat training under my belt from my days on the force, and I know it would help you feel less vulnerable to learn some new moves."

Trying to look less shell shocked, nodding and forcing myself to smile.

"I'll think about it" I said, finishing my beer as he finished his. He offered a hand to take my empty can and he stood up.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said, walking to the door. "How do you feel about motorcycles?" I laughed at the change of subject.

"I've never ridden one."

"Well, if you want. We could go for a ride sometime. You've been here for a week and I'm sure you're feeling pretty cooped up." My heart pounded at the thought of holding onto him.

"I'd… love that." I managed to choke out the words. I really hoped I wasn't blushing. He smiled and nodded.

"Great, maybe tomorrow night?"

I nodded, "sure… yes. That sounds great. I'll be free… obviously." I could have screamed, why was I so awkward around him?

"Sounds good," he said smiling, "have a good night, Lucy."

As soon as the door closed I collapsed to the floor.

"Holy shit." I whispered. I put my head in my hands and tried to figure out whether I was more excited about our bike ride or the fact that this was Batman's house. Bruce Wayne… Batman? John? The newest vigilante?

"Fuuuuck" I breathed, pressing my palms against my eyes.

As the storm rolled by, I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep that night.

After John had left, I sat on the floor for what seemed like hours. That beer had not helped calm my changed everything. Everything. How I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Between the Joker, the mob and Batman's protege. As I watched the windows rattle and the lightning flash, I realized my legs were falling asleep. I decided I needed to force myself to shower and get some sleep.

I spent a good amount of time imagining the warm water melting everything away, encompassing me in protection. Once I began yawning I knew I had an opportunity to unwind and drift off to sleep for a fews hours. I threw on the red silk pajamas Alfred had provided me upon my arrival. I was grateful for them. Walking over to my bed, I shut off the lights and started to pull down my sheets, eyelids heavy with sleep. A voice startled me.

"Still lucky as ever, Lucy."

I stared wide-eyed into the void. As my eyes adjusted, I spotted the Joker emerging from behind the balcony curtains. I thought about turning on the light, but wanted to hide my shaking form in the darkness. I was equally shocked and horrified.

"Miss me?" he said, walking towards the bed. I took a step away.

"How did you get in.." I said, astonished.

"A magician never reveals his tricks" he said, sitting down on the bed, and patting the space next to him, "it takes the fun out of things."

I said nothing and hesitantly sat down next to him. I was silent as I watched him. He was the same as I remembered. Disheveled hair, that distinctive smell I could only attribute to something explosive.

"You should have stayed in the van," he sang.

"It wasn't safe-"

"You're the safest with me" he growled, sucking on his scar. I could tell it was a recurring tick.

"Why are you helping me?"

"Full of questions, Luce," he said, putting his hands on his knees. "You know, you and I are very similar" he said softly, eying me in the darkness.

It was a strangely intimate moment. I wasn't sure if he was truly sensitive to my past or feigning empathy. How much did he know about me, anyways? Either way, I couldn't deny our similarities.

"I know what you do to people" I whispered, "In fact, I'm shocked you haven't killed me yet."

"Kill you?" he said, stifling a laugh. I felt goosebumps raise on my skin as he brushed my hair back behind my ear. It was such a soft gesture that caught me off guard. "Why would I want to kill you, Luce? Oh, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. I just want to set you free!"

Baiting me with nonsense.

"Listen" he said, turning me towards him on the bed, licking his lower lip. His grip was just as strong as I had remembered it. "I want you to know, I have no ill intentions with you… Ms. Falcone. In fact, I swang by to clear the air… so there are no hard feelings between us," he said, rolling down his sleeve to reveal the skin of his forearm. "Now. I know what you do and how you do it. A little birdie sang for me the other day. So, if you don't believe these are my pure intentions, I'll let you have another go," He readjusted himself on my bed in preparation for my decision.

I thought about it for a while. If I did, perhaps I could glimpse more of the Joker's past. I wasn't quite sure how my gift worked quite yet and I was still recovering from my encounter with John's memories.

On the other hand, I also wanted to believe he truly did want to help. I couldn't help feeling a connection between our pasts. Maybe he felt it too, a kinship? I wanted to be able to trust someone without the aid of my gift. To do things at my own pace.

This was all too much for one night.

After a few moments I lowered his hand without touching his skin.

"No… I believe you."

"That's my girl," he said, putting an arm around my shoulder.

I flinched, as it struck where the bullet had hit me. Releasing me, he stood abruptly, brushing off his pants and adjusting his suit. Taking a look around the room, he spun back to me as he made his way to the window.

"See you real soon," he sang in his raspy voice.

As the thicket of the storm rolled in and another burst of lightning filled the sky, he was gone. The following rumble of thunder would have made me jump if I wasn't already beside myself.