"Hell-o, Andy."

I tried to respond but my voice wouldn't come and I sat silently, entranced by the soft static hum coming from the other end of the phone.

"Andyyy…" He called to me from the other side of the line, interrupting my fleeting moment of peace.

"I'm here." I choked out, finally.

"Theeeere she is," He purred, and I cringed.

"Gonna need you to patch me in now, dollface."

"Um…" I hesitated and looked around at the controls lit up before me and mentally rehearsed the sequence of events. When I went to reach toward the panel in front of me, I had to pry my hands, which clung like claws, off of the arms of the chair. I flexed my cramping fingers.

"Okay…" my voice still shook. "I've got it. Just wait until after the beep." I instructed and found myself pausing for half a second when he didn't speak. "I'm hanging up now."

"Oh oh oh oh, one more thing Andy…"

My twitching finger hesitated over the glowing button.

"You and I, we aren't quite finished yet."

My face fell.

"What do you mean?" Despite my hopeless tenor, I noticed a familiar feeling bourgeoning in my chest.

"You and I have a lot of fun together, I'm not sure I'm ready to let you off the ride."

My hands trembled and I let out a few shuddering breaths, but I said nothing in response.

"I'll see ya in a bit."

When I motioned to speak and prod him further, the door to the room flung open and in walked Rick. In what felt like light speed, my hand slammed onto the button that passed the Joker's call through to the soundstage, now unmediated. Without hesitation, I flung off my headset and slid from my seat, slinking around the nearest corner and behind a few monitors. I watched from behind my barrier as Rick rushed over to the controls, but not toward me. As he approached the desk, he glanced around the room expectedly and I dipped down further when his line of sight nearly met mine. My heartbeat thrashed wildly against the cage that is my chest and as I moved to peer from the side of a monitor, I stopped.

"Who is this?" I heard Mike Engel ask and my head snapped up toward the monitor in front of me.

An abrupt hush fell over the room and his unnerving voice split through the eerie silence.

"I had a vision of a world without Batman…"

I felt my whole body go numb, but I knew I didn't have time to stick around and listen to the Joker's speech. I knew I had to leave now, or never.

Pushing through near crippling anxiety, I peered around the side of the nearest monitor. Rick stood before me, his eyes were wide and fixed on one of several glowing screens, his mouth agape in shock or horror, or both. My eyes danced feverishly around the room and I quickly noted much of the same on the faces of the others. Taking advantage of the distraction, I carefully slithered behind the monitors and stole away toward the door as inconspicuously as possible, his voice burning in my ears as I went.

I heard nothing and somehow everything as I sprinted down the winding dark corridors. People passed me by in a blur, their faces lost in my flashing peripherals. I had to leave. I had to get the fuck out of there before they knew I had anything to do with it. I also knew the Joker wouldn't be particularly happy with me if he knew I had stuck around for questioning.

As I burst through the hallway doors and into the threshold of the lobby, I came to a halt.

Did I just hear-

Everything around me exploded like a bomb and I was suddenly caught in a frenzy of screaming, crying people. Most people went racing for the doors out of GCN, but some, worryingly, rushed in the direction of the soundstage.

The words that had caused such havoc resonated from the speakers all around me, and the frozen, shocked face of Mr. Reece stared back at me from the TV screens that seemed to line every inch of the GCN lobby.

"If Coleman Reece isn't dead in 60 minutes, then I blow up a hospital."

I stood, disoriented amid the chaos as his threat echoed in my mind.

Blow up…a hospital.

My eyes began to well with tears before I could even think to try and stop myself and I felt sick to my stomach, a sickness that now seemed to have reached a crescendo. My legs trembled and I slumped to the ground, my eyes fixated on the tile floor before me. People jostled me roughly as they flew passed toward the doors, but I barely noticed. Instead, I sat motionless, held down by the weight of a heart heavy with shame and regret.

I was complicit-complicit in the murder of possibly hundreds, but at minimum, the death of Mr. Reece. What was I supposed to do?

I'm a murderer.

I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I had just felt trapped-like I didn't have any other choice. Corruption had terrified me into submission, and yet as I continued to try to convince myself of my faultlessness, I couldn't block from my mind the notion that rang louder than the shrieking from the crowds.

I'm a murderer.

And then I felt myself running. I didn't even remember standing up, but there I was, running through the lobby and bursting through the front glass doors, pushing passed the swarm of people that had begun feverishly gathering outside of GCN. Adrenaline surging, I forced my way through the horde and burst momentously into the free open air. As I ran, I passed the familiar, now tainted, coffee shop and Thai food place, and I didn't stop. I couldn't. My legs and my lungs burned agonizingly, but it felt right, like they should burn. I deserved it. I deserved more.

I'd left my jacket at GCN and the air was cold and it bit at my skin, but I didn't care. Sprinting down a crosswalk, I dodged oncoming traffic and continued. I didn't know what to do, or where I was going, and I couldn't think straight as I ran. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, my throat stung, and my chest heaved as I gasped desperately for air.

I couldn't tell how long I had been running when I rounded a random street corner and my body ultimately forced me to stop. My legs buckled feebly beneath me for the second time today and I knelt, defeated, on the sidewalk. My knees and hands stung against the cold cement and I coughed violently, my lungs feeling as though they could burst. Sweat dripped down the sides of my face and I felt its faint tickle as it slid down my back, beneath the looseness of my t-shirt. I shivered uncontrollably and lifted my hand to wipe away the hair that clung to my face and the sweat from my eyes.

After a moment of catching my breath, I surveyed my surroundings, finding myself in front of a semi-derelict bar. Peaking through the dirty, foggy window at eyelevel, I watched voyeuristically at the few patrons inside, all fixated on the TV that hung on the wall. To my dismay, but not my surprise, the chaos I had just left behind played out on the screen. I couldn't escape this horror show no matter how fast or far I seemed to run. I watched in horror when I could make out images of emergency personnel evacuating patients from the hospitals, escorting out people strapped to stretchers, those barely able to walk, mother's holding their newborn infants. I shook with anger, but despite my disgust, I couldn't look away.

My eyes were still fixed on the screen when the broadcasted images shifted abruptly. Instead of images of Gotham General in chaos, I could instead make out shaky camera shots of a terrified Coleman Reece and, to my disbelief…another familiar face. I squinted and shuffled myself closer to the grimy glass, trying to get a better look. Although blurred in movement, I could make out his dark, square framed glasses and thick moustache.

"Lieutenant Gordon." I whispered his name to myself.

I sat nearly in a trance as I recalled his empathetic manner and the subtle comfort he had offered me, a feeling I had yet to feel again since. The memory now seemed so distant, but as I watched him on the screen, escorting Coleman Reece through the threatening crowds, I knew exactly what I had to do. I had to tell him. I had to confess to what I had become involved in, no matter how coerced I may have felt.

I pushed myself up using the dirty windowsill and, leaning against the side of the old brick building, slid along the wall into the secluded space that formed the alleyway. I pulled my phone from my pocket and stared at the screen. My hands shook as I searched for his number in my phone, something I took the liberty of doing at some point in the early stages of my trauma. I took several deep breaths as a scrolled, trying to calm my nerves although recognizing it would likely show in my voice anyway. I delayed for a moment, silently thinking over my confession, what exactly I would say and how I would justify what I had done. My explanation seemed messy when I mulled it over, and I knew it was and that what I had done was nearly irrational, but it was the truth. Finally, I came to Gordon's name and just as my finger met the smoothness of the call button on the phone's screen, I felt an explosion in the back of my head and the already dim world around me suddenly went black.

(A/N: Sorry the chapter is so short! I just wanted to get an update out sooner rather than later. I hope you like it! Thanks so much to Anna10473, SpiritWolf, vanessaserrato, and kykyxstandler for your kind reviews.)