If you can guess all the reference I used in this chapter you are a real Batman fan. Awesome :)

Italics is morse code talk. And ... are pauses in the conversation. Its slightly choppy but remember Evelyn's ability to tell stories. Again feedback would be nice.

I don't own Batman.


Chapter 5

Walking into the bathroom Jason didn't bother hiding his presence. He wanted her to know he was there, to know that he knew everything. Finally spotting him Evelyn did nothing, a slight look of shock on her face but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Standing right in front of her Jason didn't look into her eyes instead his eyes were transfixed on her scars.

Finally lifting his gaze Jason found her eyes, searching as if waiting for his criticizing. He didn't provide her with one instead he held her gaze with his own. A challenge perhaps, neither showed any sins of wavering. The so called challenge continued on, a useful distraction that Jason used to trace the lines of her scars with his finger tips. Once Evelyn felt his cold hand on her skin her eyes grew slightly wide but she never looked away.

Jason continued to guide his fingers down traveling the path of her attacker. From her neck all the way down to her waist and further still. Jason's touch was light, gentle as if he were touching glass. He appeared so calm as if this was nothing; however the tone of his voice proved differently.

"Start talking."

Words so simple and so direct, there would be no silent answer he would not allow it. Not bothering to button up her shirt Evelyn toke his hand into her own and guided Jason out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Sitting down on the edge of the bed she allowed herself to fall back staring up at the ceiling. Not wanting to disturb her train of thought Jason did the same, he could handle a little more waiting. Only a little.

Just like all the other nights, nights filled with nightmares of the past. Evelyn found his hand gently running her fingers down his open palm, she began.

"Father was working, he always worked. Protecting the city, defending the helpless. He's my hero. Not everyone liked father, Davis always said he was one of the few good cops left. Maybe that's why he killed him. He was too good….

Just like any other night, he came home late. I would always try to stay up and wait for him but I never could. He came home, babysitter left and it was just me and him. Mom was in heaven, that's what father always said…. He came in to check on me and I always knew he was there when he kissed the top of my head….

There was a knock at the door and then I heard a loud bang. Woke me up completely, running into the living room I saw him on the floor. Blood soaking into the carpet all around him. I didn't move, they called it shock. I should have moved, might have seen him coming.

I didn't see father anymore all I saw was the knife in my face. He waved it around, said things I can't really remember. Something about making art until someone dies, homicidal artist. Things I don't want to remember….

What I do remember is pain and this wet feeling. I think it was the blood. I closed my eyes I didn't want to see, I didn't want to hear. My father shouted words he told me never to use…..

Then a new sound came another shout or a scream but his time it wasn't father. I think it was his, he was fighting with someone. It was dark or maybe he was dark….

All I remember was that the pain didn't continued going down. Soon everything was quiet, I felt someone holding me. But it was different this time, I knew I was safe. I could feel the wind on my face, I think I was flying….

The next time I opened my eyes I was staring at a white ceiling. Nurses and doctors came rushing in asking questions I didn't want to answer and couldn't. I haven't been able to speak a word since that night, something about my vocal cords. That didn't really bother me. What changed everything was father went to heaven too…."

Jason couldn't believe or rather didn't want to think of such things happening to Evelyn. He knew all too well what a pathetic pile of evil death-worshiping garbage was capable of, he had experience it personally. To think she had gone through such an ordeal and still be so calm. Jason couldn't really say the same, once he done everything in his power to seek revenge, unsuccessfully but not without perks.

He could see it in her eyes that far away look, that same look he always had when thinking about his past. He didn't want her to relive it; it had probably taking a lot out of her just to tell him what happened. Seeing it happen again was something he didn't want her to remember.

"Who's Davis?"

Turning to look him in the eye, Evelyn was again in the present thinking of the question as if it was a complicated math problem that would need thorough analysis.

"Davis was my godfather. After everything was done with they needed someone to take care of me. I didn't have anyone else so Davis took me in. He and father worked together, he would always come home and tell me stories…..

A few months after he took me home, Davis got a promotion and we left Gotham….

Living in Alaska was different everything was so much colder but it was quiet. Davis gave me everything, but they didn't stop."

"They?"

"The whispers….

They started in Gotham the nurses thought I couldn't hear them. Then the other kids always whispered. No one ever spoke to me directly, they all wanted to know but no one ever asked. Davis always got mad when he would hear them. It happened everywhere the school, the grocery store, even at the doctor's office. He always started yelling at someone, saying 'if you got something to say speak up'. I always thought it was funny; Davis just wasn't mean enough to pull it off. But everyone else seemed to think he was scary.

Davis was too good too…."

"Too good?"

"The good ones always go fist. Mother was first, then father, and finally Davis….

Just because it was a small town didn't mean there wasn't crime. It just wasn't as big as Gotham. He left that morning just like every morning, kissed the top of my head. Always saw me as a little girl I guess, I never really complained. It was nice….

I got a call a little after lunch, took a while to get through it…. Attempted bank robbery. Davis was always playing hero, always climbing tress saving cats, helping the little old ladies cross the street. Always the hero….

He saved 20 people that day. They had a ceremony or something, lots of people gave speeches. He wouldn't have liked it; he never liked getting attention…."

Every one she cared about was gone, killed in some final act of heroism. Jason could relate in some ways, his parents were dead and all the people he cared about or at least the people that at one time cared about him were gone. He had pushed them away, those relationships were broken and it didn't seem like they were going to be rebuilt anytime soon.

"Why did you come back?"

It was a simple question really; Gotham had been the source of so much pain. Why would she willingly come back to this misery?

"I don't want to be afraid anymore."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Gotham, I thought if I could come back here make things like they were before….

Maybe I wouldn't be so afraid. It hasn't worked. I still have nightmares, I still see my father lying on the floor bleeding to death and I still see that horrible smile…."

"…..smile?"

"I hate clowns….."

It all clicked into place, Jason didn't need any more explanations. Holding her hand tight, Jason hoped it provided some reassurance that he was there, that he understood. Jason left her on that bed, her mind clouded by nightmares, the source of which Jason now knew and one he was more than willing to erase.