When we arrived back, I had a lot on my mind. Why was the Joker keeping his hideout in that apartment in the narrows? Did he trust me enough to not reveal its whereabouts? Also, John was teetering between being a loving support and an overprotective friend. The freedom I had felt the first few weeks of my arrival was slowly fading as I was his let-me-fix-you characteristics seeping out from under his facade.

The silver lining of course, was the retrieval of my mother's necklace. Strangely, I rarely took it out of its bag, let alone did I wear it around my neck. I wasn't sure what triggered me to wear it. Like my memories, I had wanted to keep it tucked away. The visibility of the necklace, like my half-finished paintings in my room, was perhaps the guilt seeping out of my subconscious and into my physical reality. Funny how the mind words.

Walking beside John as we made our way to the garage, he could sense something was on my mind as well.

"You know, if you ever want to talk about anything, I'm always here for you," he said. I couldn't tell if his cheeks were cold or if he was blushing. Despite his lingering overbearing qualities I appreciated his care and empathy. Never in my life had a man treated me like John. It was new... scary. It was what normal was supposed to feel like.

"It's not really my thing to bring up the past. I try to avoid talking about it as much as possible," I said, looking down at my worn out shows. My whole wardrobe needed revamping, to be honest.

Parking the bike, he took off his helmet and placed it on the seat.

"Sooner or later you'll have to confront it. Remember what I said about never having to do this all by yourself. You have friends now."

I smiled and nodded. He went in for a hug before I could register it. His grip was strong but gentle and he stroked my hair gently. The newness of this intimacy made me want to run away. Connection meant eventual loss. More pain.

I remembered how Joker had brushed my hair behind my ear.

"I think I'm going to organize what I've managed to salvage from my old apartment tonight and head to bed early" is said as we locked up the garage, the golden hour was upon us. The sunset brushed the ground with an orange glow.

"Well, thanks for today," he said, " it's nice having you here".

We stared at each other, smiling. He leaned in to kiss me, but the moment was broken as thousands of bats flew skyward from the caves beyond the grounds. I felt numb.


I sighed as I opened the door to my room.

'What was I doing?' I needed to be with my own thoughts instead of battling a vigilante and a criminal for the sanity in my head. I threw my bag on the ground and fell forward onto my bed. It was only 5 oclock but I was exhausted. After inspecting my necklace for a few seconds, I found myself drifting into a deep sleep.

*I was on the edge of a tower surrounded by water. I could feel the wind pushing me side to side, threatening to throw me off. Holding my forearm up to my face, I realized I was wearing black, protective armor. Was I batman? As I was inspecting myself further, the earth shook. The tower was beginning to burn and combust, sinking slowly into the sea. Just as soon as I realized I needed to jump, two figures materialized in front of me. I stayed on the tower as it sank, unable to make up my mind, unable to move. I decided death to be a better option.

I sat up sweating. My heart was racing. I stood up and went to the bathroom for a glass of water. This was all too much. The more I thought I was running away from everything, the more I was becoming swallowed by the thicket of my worries. Finishing the glass, I walked back into my room, glancing at the clock. It was only 10:30 but I felt like I got a night's worth of sleep. Sitting down on my bed again and turning on the bedside light, I thought about today's events.

Then it hit me.

"John..." I whispered.

The jewelry store the Joker's henchmen were planning to rob tonight. Would this be his first night putting on the mask? I stood up and ran to my bag, pulling out a black sweater, some old sneakers and my handgun. There was no way I was going to miss this. If he needed help, at least I could put my training in the mob to good use.

Creeping downstairs, I knew the garage was locked. Luckily I had remembered the passcode John had punched in earlier today. A few people were still up, cleaning, organizing, preparing for the next week of schooling. Saying a quick hello, I innocently made my way to the kitchen, handgun hidden at the back of my jeans. Punching in the numbers to the side door, I made my way inside.

It was pitch black but I dared not to turn on the lights. Using my phone's flashlight, I tracked down John's bike.

Of course it was gone.

I barely knew how to sit on a motorcycle, let alone ride one, but I needed to find a means of transportation that would be quick and stealthy. I ran around looking for something small and came across a honda hornet… probably one of Alfred's. This will do… I hoped he would forgive my use of it.

The keys were in the ignition, but I walked the bike to the garage door. Time was ticking, but I didn't want to look suspicious. Opening the garage door as silently as I could, I crept out towards the main entrance. It was a perfectly clear evening.

As soon as I was out of the gates I turned on the ignition. Stroking the stone on my mother's necklace for luck, I hoped I could help me get there in one piece. Mounting the bike with a little bit of a wobble, I was off. Slow at first, but I eventually picked up speed. In minutes the city was in eyeshot.


John was crouching on the rooftops overlooking 23rd and 4th. Lucius had done a wonderful job upgrading Bruce's last Batsuit. Xray and night vision were already coming in handy as he stalked a group of thugs approaching the store from the back alley. They had the street secure from all sides as the store owner came out to lock up the shop unknowingly.

The owner of the store was a small italian man with white curly hair and small spectacles. It looked like he had been doing the same things over and over for decades. How he delicately locked it up, John could tell it was his pride and joy. He didn't have to wait long for the thugs to approach him.

"Hands up, pal and back away from the doors" one of the thugs said with a crowbar in his hands. "I don't want to get my clothes dirty tonight."

The old man withdrew a gun from his belt and stood his ground.

"Come any closer and I'll shoot" he said horsley, pistol shaking in his hands. When the thugs moved towards him, he fired a bullet. It grazed the leader's arms and he stifled a yell as he held his bleeding shoulder. Thugs quickly tackled him to the ground. The poor man never had a chance.

Go time, John thought. Swooping down from the top of the building, John took out the men around the perimeter quietly. The old man lay dazed on the ground as the man who spoke before picked up the gun from the ground. He cocked it and pointed it at the store owner.

"I warned you, gramps." The old man braced himself. The gun fired but missed as a bat shuriken knocked the gun out of his hand. Yelping, John took him out and disabling him with a punch to the gut. Luckily it was a small group, he thought, otherwise this could have gotten messy.

"It's the Bat!" One of them screamed, swinging a crowbar. John easily forged his attack, side stepping him as he ran into one of his fellow accomplices. After only a few moments, he had taken out all 6 of them.

There was a brief silence as all the men lay grunting on the ground. He walked over to the store owner, helping him up. Still dazed, he rubbed his head and gasped at the red eyes staring back at him.

"Batman?" he whispered. "Is that really you?"

"Nightwing" John responded in a low register. A name to honor the legend.

Sirens sounded, red and blue lights approaching the store. The man turned quickly to look in their direction. Sighing in relief, he turned to thank Nightwing for saving him and his store.

He had vanished into the night.


I had watched the whole thing from a side alley as John made his way to another city block. I was astonished at his level of skill. He must have been training intensely for months.

I held onto my bike and watched as the cops pulled up around the building, circling the injured thugs, handcuffing them and throwing them into police cars. I could already hear the store owner wildly describing his savior. The next Batman. Pushing my bike away, I decided to head back to the Mansion. He didn't need any help after all. He was well prepared.

I got to the end of the alleyway and before I could mount my bike, a man appeared in front of me, blocking the exit.

"Been lookin' for you" he said, in a cockney British accent. As he walked forward, my eyes widened as I realized he was the same man who had been staring at me from behind the bars at the police department.

"Who are you?" I asked, backing up with my bike.

"A messenger." He was empty handed and didn't advance towards me.

"What do you want?" I asked, about to pull my own pistol from its holster.

"He wants you to meet him at the docks tomorrow. Midnight. He has what you're looking for. "

"What could I possibly want?"

"A way out, darlin' "

"Who are you working for? What if I refuse?"

"I wouldn't if I were you." he said, spitting what must have been tobacco onto the ground beside him. "Midnight. Don't be late." he said, putting his hands in his pockets. He strolled out of the alleyway, disappearing behind the corner of a brick apartment building.

I ran towards the exit, but he had vanished. Little did I know at the time, John had been listening from the rooftops above us.

I was rattled making my way back to Wayne Manor, trying my best to get home safely. Who was trying to help me now? I knew I shouldn't have been out. This is what I got for snooping back into the narrows..

Putting the bike back where I found it, I placed the helmet on it and silently made my way back up to my room. Collapsing again on my bed, I covered my face. I thought about the dream I had before leaving for the narrow. Was jumping off the tower significant in some way? Should I be accepting help from John, the Joker... from whoever I was to meet tomorrow night? The last thing I wanted was to get caught in a crossfire. There must be another way out of this. I so badly wanted to pack up my bags and run.


The next day I went down for coffee late in the morning. Alfred had already gone out for his regular sunday golfing excursion but he left some toast and coffee on the table. I heated up the coffee with a piece of toast in my mouth.

"Good morning" I heard his voice from behind me. John was already dressed and carrying tools in from the garage. I froze. I had to act as if I hadn't seen Nightwing last night . I had to don a mask around him as well. Smiling, I turned to meet his gaze.

"Good morning to you. What are you up to?"

"Just making some modifications to my bike. How did you sleep?"

"I slept well… woke up a few times, but I got some sleep." Putting the tools down on the table, he also grabbed a piece of toast.

"How do you feel about some combat training today? Kids are off on a field trip and we have the ground to ourselves" he said, smirking. I gulped some toast down, noticing how dry my mouth was. I thought about how quickly he moved last night. How he took out all those men on his own. It was incredible. Lessons from Batman's protege? Why not?

"Sure, why not."

"Great. How about I meet you in front in an hour? I have to make a few adjustments to the bird."

Of course he did... I thought.

"Take your time," I said, watching him pour a cup of coffee. "We have all day."

That's what I was afraid of.


In an hour I was on the lawn in sweats and my sneakers. A windy, clear day, but the cold was tolerable. He was sitting in the grass, stretching when I walked towards him.

"Sit down and stretch, we're going to be doing a lot of moving today."

"Right," I said, sitting next to him and stretching out my legs. For being out of practice I was still incredibly flexible and I was happy about that.

"How is your arm feeling?" he said, inquiring around my bullet wound. To be honest I had forgotten about it. It was beginning to scar over and most days it wasn't sore anymore.

"Thanks to you its getting back to 100%"

He smiled standing and offering me a hand.

"All right. Now. Face me." He said, turning me towards him. "Show me your fighting stance." I did so. "Okay, just what I thought. Your posture is too defensive. You need to loosen up so you can move with more versatility. He took my hands and moved them forward.

My gift kicked in as he adjusted my hands. This time it was less memory driven and more of an instinctive knowing. I felt connected to him. It made me nervous to know more and more about how this man felt about me. In my mind, I was always on that tower from my dreams, debating whether or not to stay or jump into his arms.

"Now," he said. "I'm going to throw a few kicks and punches and I want to see how you handle yourself. Just so I can see what you can do. Are you ok with that?" I nodded.

"Bring it on," I said, smirking.

"That's more like it!" he said, taking his stance.

At first he went easy on me. It was kid's play and I parried his moves. We moved around the lawn, breaking a sweat.

I knew there was something different about this, because the more contact we made, the more I could predict his every move. After a while, he realized that he had to step up his game. The more advanced his techniques got, the better I defended. We were both sweating, making our way from the lawn into the side gardens.

"Jesus, Lucy!" he said between breaths, "you been holding out on me this whole time?"

"I told you I could take care of myself."

"Let's see less defense and a bit more offense."

I smirked.

Stone lions and pillared balconies divided flower gardens and ponds as we thought into the thicket of the garden. I couldn't believe I was keeping up with him.

You're safest with me. I jumped, a disembodied voice jolted through my body like an electric shock.

John threw a debilitating punch into my chest, knocking the wind out of my lungs. I fell to the ground, holding my gut. He threw himself down to pin me, but I rolled to his right. Standing to run, he quickly grabbed my ankle and I fell to the ground with a thud. I grunted as he pulled me towards him.

I was exhausted as he pinned me. We were both sweating profusely despite the autumn air.

"Never turn your back on the enemy" he said in between breaths. My hands were pinned by his and I knew what was coming next. His lips embraced mine as he pressed himself against me. It lasted for a few seconds and he pulled away. I was dazed, light headed. Equally from the workout and from the kiss.

"I'm- sorry.." he said, letting me go from under him. "I shouldn't have…"

This time it was my turn to kiss him. After a few moments we pulled away. He looked at me in awe.

"I thought I could help train you… but maybe you could teach me a thing to two," he said, helping me up.

"I told you I could take care of myself" I smirked.

Just as we were walking back we saw Alfred's Mercedes pulling into the driveway. We both waved as he slowed down.

"Out for a Sunday run?" he asked, assessing our state.

"Actually, Lucy just kicked my ass." I jabbed him and laughed.

"Lunch?" Alfred asked cheerfully.

"Lunch!" John and I said in unison.


With all of today's activity I had completely forgotten about leaving for the docks later that night. I checked the news to see if there was any criminal activity happening around the city. It seemed calm. Sundays were mob holidays. When I was younger, I spent Sunday mornings at church and dinner with the extended "family" at upscale Italian restaurants.

John said he had some errands to run before school started back up the next morning and I decided I was going to finish some paintings and head to bed early again. I explained the day had tired me out. He seemed to believe me and managed to sneak in another kiss before I went upstairs to prepare for my night out.

I had a few hours to prepare. What could I bring to defend myself that wouldn't cause alarm? I was just going to have to depend on my new fighting abilities... If I still even had them.

I had to be hyper vigilant tonight. As I walked down to the garage, I realized John's bike was already gone. It was 11:30 as I pushed the bike to the end of the driveway. Looking back at the Mansion, I could help but to think about Bruce Wayne, the legacy he had left. I wonder what he'd be doing in a situation like this. Maybe John was right. I didn't have to run from my past, I could confront it.

As I sped into the city towards the docks, I decided tonight, whatever happened, I wouldn't let them use me like I knew they would. The mob, the joker, whoever was there waiting for me. I'd find a way to fight back. Take back my power.

The docks were just as grimy and depressing as I remembered them. I hoped this time around I wouldn't end up in the water.

I took off my helmet and parked the bike near an old boathouse. The place was a ghost town. Nothing but the noise of far away cars and the sloshing of waves against the rotting piers. I looked at my watch, it was almost midnight. I shivered and rubbed my hands together. I was definitely in need of a warmer jacket and some gloves.

"Ah, very good. Right on time," said an unfamiliar voice from the shadows.

Walking towards me was a man dressed in a black tuxedo, fitted with a bowtie, a top hat and a cane. Walking towards me with an awkward type of limp, three men followed behind him with machine guns. As he walked closer, I could see he was a man in his late 30's. Quite pale with a crooked nose and deep sunken eyes. Tall and Lanky. I took a step backwards, ready to fight them off.

"No need to be worried, Ms. Falcone." He said, motioning his men to stand off. "Just for security's sake."

I held my breath as he walked closer to me, stopping a few feet away.

"Let me introduce myself," he said, taking off his battered top hat. "My name is Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot. Or as my colleagues like to call me, Penguin."

I had heard that name before. Cobblepot.

"I've invited you here to propose a deal, you see."

Invited was an interesting word choice. My adrenaline pushed aside the feeling of extreme cold. I felt warm with an inner rage, readying myself to fight back.

"I know that name..."

Penguin adjusted his hat.

"I know about your predicament , Ms. Falcone. In fact, I know it very well. Things have changed quite a bit since you've been gone," he said brushing something off of his jacket. I couldn't wrap my head around how this weirdo could have landed the opportunity to become a head honcho. Things weren't quite adding up.

"Your father ran a powerful organization. Then Marconi. But as they say... all good things must come to an end. And from the ashes the Phoenix is reborn..."

"Whatever it is you want, I'm not interested." I said bluntly.

"I'm sure you're well aware of all the terrible things your father did. That's a lot of karmic debt to pay up."

"You can't put my father's actions on me" I spat, "I wasn't involved."

"That's exactly what your mother told me as well."

My eyes widened. I ran at him, but his thugs circled me with their guns.

"It was a monstrous thing to do, of course. She wasn't deserving of such a terrible death…"

I was livid as the thugs grabbed me.

"Why do you think everyone is chasing after you, Lucille? Did you assume that no one knew about the gifts your mother passed down to you? Your father was ignorant for passing up on the change to use her. To use you. Imagine what we could do together, Lucille."

"Fuck you, I'd rather die."

Cobblepot sighed, "I had a feeling you'd say that." With a snap of his fingers, one of his men threw a sack over my head. I struggled to free myself as I fought the urge to scream. My blood boiled with a rage I hadn't felt since my mother's death.

There was a scream from behind me and a sudden explosion from the industrial buildings parallel to the docks. The blast was immense as were all instantly knocked to the ground. I could feel the heat on my face from yards away as debris scattered around us. I quickly gained my composure, as I threw off the sack I stumbled up and ran towards my bike. Midway, I felt a bare hand on my shoulder. It was one of the Penguin's men. I placed my hand on his and my gift kicked in like clockwork...

Memories of a wife, his children, unpaid bills, deceit and lies.

A meth addict paying off his debts to the mob to protect his family.

A dead end life crippled by addiction.

In an instant, I knew his next moves and had him on the ground grunting. I was relieved to know my gift was coming in handy for me.

I reached my bike just in time to see it explode into flames. Taking a few steps back, I screamed in frustration. Someone had blown something incredibly explosive at it. A bazooka? John was going to kill me.

Two other men came running after me but were taken down by an array of gunfire. The Penguin who was well on his way towards me stopped abruptly in his tracks, looking towards the shooter.

There was only one man I knew who would pull a crazy stunt like this. The Joker was holding a machine gun up towards the Penguin, who was eyeing him curiously.

"Quite an entrance" the Penguin said.

The Joker, still holding his gun up at the Penguin, walked towards me.

"Just the beginning of the show-," he said, putting his arm around me and liking his scars, "just wait until act one, scene two."

"If you're here for Ms. Falcone, I can't let you take her. We had a deal. Right, Lucille?"

The Joker looked at me curiously.

"Did you shake on it?" the Joker asked.

"Well... no-" the Penguin began.

"Then it wasn't a deal," He adjusted his grip on me and began walking towards the exit to the docks.

"These things really need to be done in writing."

"I can't let you take her, Joker."

"You and what army, Top Hat"

"The name is Penguin."

More men who had been hiding around the boatyard began to encircle us

as the Joker let out a chilling laugh. He was thoroughly enjoying this.

"I just loooove organized crime. It's so… malleable." he said, pointing the gun at

my head. He again licked his lips.

"Ok. Listen, birdman. You shoot me, the girl dies, everyone loses. Right? No fun in that. Let's make this a little more exciting," he said, licking his lips. I hope I wasn't the punchline of his joke... "How about a game?"The lanky man shifted his weight and adjusted his bowtie.

"I'm not really in the mood -"

"Be a good sport, pigeon. How many jokers are there in a deck of cards? If you answer correctly, I'll let her go... comprende? "

"You can't be serious-"

"ANSWER THE QUESTION." The Joker growled deeply, forcing the gun to my temple. I began to squirm as his other arm wrapped tighter around me.

Nervously, the Penguin responded. "Uh… two? There's two?!" The Joker grinned.

One of the Penguins men began firing rounds at the remaining men surrounding us. The Joker whooped in fits of hysterical laughter. Organized crime was indeed quite malleable.

While the Penguin limped for cover, the remainder of his men took out the traitor.

During all the commotion the Joker yanked me through the fires and into a van waiting down the street. I didn't have time to protest as he pushed me in, shutting the doors behind us as we sped off.