The news broadcast in this chapter is taken exactly from the movie; but never fear, our story will vary from the actual movie itself. For now, certain parts of the movie are somewhat crucial to replicate to a certain degree. However, at Gordon's car scene, one must keep in mind that Bruce was NOT there to intercept the car collision...he was elsewhere.

Oh, and as for updating, I will not update unless I receive reviews!!

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Chapter II: Colliding

Bruce had been expecting, after the unexpected (and, in his own opinion, short) visit from Gordon that he wouldn't see the man again for a little while. He was right, in a way, but was quite taken aback when he received a phone call from the Commissioner.

"Master Bruce, phone for you," came the voice of the familiar man who'd looked after Bruce for almost all of his young life.

Frowning slightly as he finished doing the buttons on one of his cufflinks, Bruce took the phone. It was going to be his first day back at "work" after the incident; Alfred had seemed incredibly enthusiastic about the decision, but Bruce himself was more or less uncaring.

"Hello?" he said, focussing his attentions on the electronic device now in his hand.

"Have you seen the television?" The voice was low, urgent, and unmistakably belonged to Gordon. Bruce's frown went deeper before he replied; he would've been pleased at receiving such a phone call, were it not for the tone of voice with which it was delivered.

"No, what channel?"

"Gotham News."

Alfred had already picked up on the mood that had come down on the room, and when Bruce gestured towards the TV, it was as if they were sharing the same brain. In a fluid movement most people wouldn't expect of the older man, he flicked the television on. It was, for the most part, kept on the Gotham City News anyways, so no further pressing of buttons was needed.

The first thing that caught Bruce's eye was the headline on the bottom of the screen; "The True Identity of Batman Revealed". The next thing he caught was the man sitting (rather nervously) in the chair beside the anchor; it was one of his employees...the little rat faced man who did number crunching for Fox. Reese was it?

A caller was asking the man if he thought he knew better than Dent and the Commissioner; Bruce tuned out and spoke into the phone once more. "Where are you, Gordon?"

"Taking the men down to round up the mob by the docks, but its been put on delay thanks to the broadcast."

"It's not a problem...even if he says it's me, I've already been taken in as the Batman; it's been proven I'm NOT the Batman..."

There was a pause of Gordon's side, before he replied, "Still. Raising suspicion on you again isn't good...and what if he comes up with a random civilian, or worse yet, someone like Dent..."

Bruce twitched slightly; he hadn't considered that possibility. However, he was spared having to reply when a new caller came onto the line.

"Who is this?" The anchorman was asking, and Bruce knew, he just knew. Gordon let out a quiet hiss under his breath, and Bruce knew he knew too.

"I haaaad a vision," the voice growled, and Bruce's skin crawled. "Of a world without Batman. The mob ground out a little profit and the police shut them down one block at a time...and it was sooo....boring. I've had a change of heart. I don't want Mr. Reese spoiling everything, but why should I have all the fun? Let's give someone else a chance! If Coleman Reese isn't dead in sixty minutes then I blow up a hospital."

"Fuck," Gordon cursed at the other end, before saying, "I should go."

"Wait, Gordon, let me help."

"The Batman can't come out in broad daylight, you should know that. Stay home."

After this, Bruce heard a click, and he was left gripping the phone between his fingers, his gaze steely. Alfred, who'd been standing by his side, asked, "Will you be going out then, sir?"

"Yes," Bruce growled. "I want you to look up all of Gordon's men, checking hospital admissions."

"Will you be taking the Batmobile, sir?"

"During the middle of the day? Not very subtle, Alfred."

"The Lamborghini then?....much more subtle..."

The elevator slide downwards, and Bruce was struck with a thought. Pressing the intercom button, he said, "Alfred?"

"Yes sir?" came the response through the speakers.

"I need you to hack into the police records for today..."

"Sir?"

"Check where they were headed, precisely, on the docks."

"Yes, Master Wayne." The speaker cut out at that point, and Bruce was sure Alfred was already typing away. Buttoning his suit once, Bruce stepped out of the elevator confidently when the doors slid open, hurrying over to the slick sports car.

Sliding in, all but ignoring the luxurious leather interior, he revved the engine in preparation, and off he zipped, the tires squealing behind him. He didn't have much time, not much time at all.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Gordon was having his own share of leaping from vehicle to vehicle as they hustled their asses over to the news station to pick up Reese; after being shot at, they ducked into a police vehicle, one of Gordon's cops joining them.

Their tires let loose a snarl of their own before bursting away from the building and the angry mobs of people. Reese's eyes were darting every which way, and he was sweating profusely, and Gordon was happy to note that he didn't feel sympathetic towards the mousy man at all.

"What do we do now? Where are we going?" Gordon glanced over at Reese as the man stammered out the words, his expression carefully neutral as he turned and looked out the window.

Adjusting his glasses, the Commissioner frowned when he received a text message. Watch out. He read the rest of the message, including the names, and looked up in time to see the officer with him sweating just as hard as the man they were protecting, holding onto his gun as though it were a lifeline.

"It's Berg, isn't it?" he said, and the other man's head pulled up.

"Commissioner."

The reassuring smile that touched his lips was natural; after all, it was similar to the one he gave his children when they were having a bad dream, when they were full of indecision and confusion, even fear. "You okay, son?"

The officer chuckled slightly, no more than a release of air through his nostrils, really, before nodding shakily. Gordon paused then, opening his mouth slowly in preparation for the tricky, dangerous task he was about to partake in.

"I'm going to need your weapon."

"What?"

Not failing to see the gun lower, Gordon could feel Reese tense beside him.

"Why, because my wife's in the hospital?"

"Yeah, that'd be why," Gordon managed.

The next few seconds went by very slowly; they'd been stopped at a red light, and just as they were moving forwards, Gordon saw Berg's finger spasm slightly on the trigger, heard him say, "Mr. Rees-!" and he was already diving to the side, shoving Reese up against the window and throwing his arms up to protect himself.

Both fortunately and unfortunately, it was then that they were hit with incredible momentum by something on Reese's side; another vehicle, Gordon was sure. The metal door crumpled like paper, and Gordon could hear the vehicle they were in screech along the pavement til it hit a lamp post, around which it crumpled once more.

Gordon's head rammed up against something painfully; after all the damage he'd received to the head prior (and thanks to the Joker) he let out a howl of pain. His hands flew up to his temples, and he saw flecks of red all over his vision.

Looking down, he realized in his daze that the flecks of blood weren't of his own making; they were blood. Blinking, he had another realization; it was his own blood.

Berg's gun HAD gone off, and Gordon knew now that the bullet had hit him in the left shoulder; the impact had sent his blood flying off every which way, and it was now spattered here and there. But his blood wasn't the only blood, he soon discovered.

Looking up and blinking again, for his vision was streaked with black and white that he knew were caused by head injury, he saw the smashed remains of Berg's face. The man had been positioned just perfectly that when they'd hit the pole, his face had whipped into the window, shattering it.

Glass shards hung from the man's cheeks, his nose was bent at an odd position, his eyes half closed and his head bobbed about, only his limp neck holding it up. Blood literally gushed from him, and Gordon realized with vague horror that a very large shard of glass had sliced through the man's neck, clipping the artery.

It was then that he became conscious of the man practically underneath him. Reese had been slid underneath Gordon's legs at the impact, and was quivering. He was clutching his own head, but seemed more terrified than anything.

"C-C-Comm-missioner, are you- al-alright?" he stuttered uncontrollably over the words, his face white. Gordon opened his mouth to reply, and found himself quite unable to form a word, never mind a sentence.

"C-Commissioner?!" That was all Gordon really heard, as blood spattered about the back of the vehicle, as it made its way onto Reese's pale face, the staining contrast drawing his eye. Deep crimson all over pure white... how poetically pretty...

He heard voices in the distance, saw blurry people prying open the twisted metal, heard people shouting, screaming when they finally got to the three of them. His own head lolled, and the last thing he recalled was someone scooping him up into a stretcher. Blood...blood all around him...

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Sorry if that was a little dull (and short); it was unfortunately crucial to the plot. There will be more to come, however, so keep the reviews coming!