Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Batman or "The Dark Knight". I believe that DC Comics does.

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Mist shrouds the shoulders of grey tombstones in the distance of Ledell Cemetery. Gray clouds blanket out the sun's light and tears dribble out of the eyes of Ilia Rendell's loved ones. Their eyes are empty, drained from the emotional pain of finally saying goodbye.

Farewell Ilia Rendell.

It was just two and a half weeks ago the Joker took her life viciously. Sometimes when I am alone in the dark, I cannot help but wonder what her final moments were like. I can almost hear her last breaths sometimes. I can almost see her hands reaching out for his purple coat in a desperate attempt at redemption from the devil.

Murderer.

I walk up to the podium that is placed in front of the somber crowd. Eyes of sadness follow me delicately and mist over with pain. When I reach the podium, I project my weary voice to commence my final farewell, my eulogy, to my beloved friend Ilia Rendell.

"Many years ago," I say, "I was in the playground at my old elementary school. It was my very first day of school. I was alone; I think we all were at that age. We were just discovering ourselves, just finding out who we truly wanted to be, finding people who wanted to have a destiny that was akin. That is the definition of a friend, someone who shares a piece of their destiny with you."

I pause, feeling the wind run through my hair and tickle my scalp. I glance around at the people who are looking at me expectantly to continue. They all appear forlorn with tears brimming or have already broken and spilled over. I know why everyone here this evening looks this way and they have a right to.

One man.

One knife.

One night.

Red, black and white.

It all happened.

The Joker has killed a part of everyone that is here this evening on Friday the 21st.

Even a part of me, Eva Duren.

In a way, he has murdered more than just one soul.

In the front row of the seated crowd, there sits Ilia's direct family. On the right Ilia's mother, Jillian, sits with a dazed look on her ageing face. In the middle sits her father, Richard, who is a large man, but even he seems to be broken into shattered little pieces. Last but not least, on the left side, sits Ilia's older brother, Damien, who is looking at me with a heartbreakingly sincere expression.

"Ilia Rendell was one of those people that you would meet, and realize that not only are they going to share a piece of their destiny with you, but that they are a part of it. Sometimes, we like to think we know where we will end up, that we can predict what is going to happen, but we can't. What we can to, is find people who will walk side by side with us until we are lost in the maze that we call life. When we are lost, they are there to help us find our way back out again. Those people we call friends, sisters, brothers, mothers and fathers. In our darkest hours we cry out to them and call them heroes and saviors. In return they say they did it because they love us. That is exactly what Ilia Rendell did; she walked with us through the maze of life. From the day I met her on that playground, I decided that I would walk with her if she would walk with me. Walking through that maze can be terrifying, especially if you are walking alone."

As soon as I finish my speech, people get up, pay their respects to Ilia's grave and leave Ledell Cemetery. I soon remember that I am to call Lucas Marks to come and pick me up. I pull out my cell phone and punch in Lucas's digits. I have to call him because Gordon wants me to get a ride from him after this is over. Gordon was kind enough to drop me off.

As soon as I am done making the call to Lucas, I search the graveyard with my eyes to see who is still here. I glance around and see that even Ilia's parents are leaving, but not Damien. Damien crouched by Ilia's tombstone, running the ends of his long fingers over the groves on the grave. He turns his dark haired head to the side to look at me with his light blue-green eyes.

He stands up and reaches to his full height of about six feet. The dark charcoal coat that he is wearing matches the dark furrows in his brows. He tucks his hands in his pockets and approaches me.

"Hi Eva," he says not looking at me.

"Hi Damien," it has been so long since I have talked to him face to face. He has changed so much, in demeanor and looks.

"So, how's life?" he ask me trying to be casual.

I look around the graveyard that is covered in a blanket of fog.

"I, it's um, alright. And what about you, how is Wayne Enterprises?"

"Good, good, it's doing well. I was um, promoted to a member of the board. The pay is really nice and I am enjoying it."

"Well, that's good to hear. So anything new?" I ask, feeling the conversation changing, the tension is slipping away.

"God, it's been so long since I've seen you," he states randomly, staring directly into my brown eyes.

I giggle a little and he smirks and asks, "Yeah, so?"

I've missed him too.

"I missed you to Damien."

He throws his arms open wide and reaches over to embrace me in a bear hug.

If Ilia were here, she would laugh.

Damien is just like an older brother to me.

He hums deeply as he pulls me against his large chest which causes me to laugh aloud. He tickles me playfully and I squirm in his grasp.

He soon lets go and places me at arm's length with his large hands positioned on my shoulders. He looks my face over with his sea green eyes. I look at his face and I realize how much he looks like Ilia. His high cheekbones and tan skin remind me of her. I broken smile twitches onto my face and tears taunt my eyes, threatening to spill over. I laugh and the dam of tears breaks. Damien gets a bewildered look on his face and I see his eyes start to become glossy.

"I'm sorry," I feel my happiness turning over to sadness, "you just remind me so much of Ilia. I'm sorry. I should go."

He smiles softly at me, "Come on, I'll walk you out."

I nod and lean against him in a plutonic way as we leave Ledell Cemetery.

We are soon standing in the parking lot and Damien still holds me tight by his side. The cold air is nipping at the tip of my pointed nose.

Lucas has not arrived yet.

"So Bruce Wayne is holding a fundraiser for Harvey Dent tomorrow and I was invited. He said I could bring a date; do you want to go with me? Well, it wouldn't really be a date, you know? Because that would be, well, you know…"

"Yeah, I get it Damien, I'll just be the fill in," I say sarcastically and giggle before continuing, "But, yeah, I'll go."

"Alright great!" he exclaims, over embellishing on how excited he really is.

"Okay, calm down," I say.

He laughs.

"You know Eva, I've missed you."

I know, Damien.

I smile at him.

"So, where's your car?"

"It's in the shop."

"So, do you need a ride home or are you just going to stand here?"

I have not told him that Lucas is on his way to pick me up.

Jesus, I feel like I am a teenager again with this whole hitching rides thing.

"Oh, thanks Damien, but I can't. A friend of mine is coming to come pick me up."

See, the truth is, is that Lucas and I are a little more than friends. I have been seeing him for the past two weeks at much as I can. I wouldn't consider us that stupid label of boyfriend and girlfriend; I like the going steady term better. Gordon only allows me to see Lucas because he trusts Lucas. Other than that, I am very isolated in my bunker of a hotel room that I rent out under the name of Jessica Rawlins. I do not have set hours, but Gordon sends me information on the Joker via e-mail. I check into the GPD regularly, but not enough to cause too much attention. So far, the Joker has not taken his beef with me public; every night I cry myself to sleep out of fear, except when I am with Lucas. Things are definitely different when I am with Lucas in the dark.

"So, I'll pick you up tomorrow night like about six thirty, seven-ish?" Damien questions.

I think fast.

As much as I like Damien, Gordon will never allow me to go if another person needs to know where I live.

"How about I meet you there? That would be much easier for me."

Damien's face twists into a fake perplexed look and places his palm on his chest, "Do I offend?"

"No, God no! Damien, you are such a smartass!"

Damien throws his hands up and cries out, "Touché!"

I nudge him in the ribs.

"I think it would be a good idea if we exchanged numbers."

"Why, yes Eva it would be," Damien mocks.

I roll my eyes and smile.

While we are exchanging numbers I see Lucas's Audi turning in the parking lot.

Time to go.

The Audi reaches us and Lucas rolls down the window.

"Hey Eva," Lucas grins.

"Hey. Alright Damien, I'll see you around?"

"Yeah uh," Damien says with a smug yet suggestive smile on his olive face, "I'll see you around."

I hop into the passenger seat of Lucas's automobile and let out a sigh. We drive off back into Gotham; the sun still shows no sign of poking through the clouds as the darkness of night begins to fall on Gotham.

"How's your day?" I mumble the question to Lucas.

"Good. How are you feeling?"

"I'm, um, I'm surviving." I half joke.

"Hm," Lucas grunts, rapping his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel, "Who was that? That man you were standing with?"

"Oh," I sense jealously boiling underneath his youthful skin and I am careful as I reply, "That was Ilia's older Brother. He just a friend, I promise. He asked me to go to a fundraiser for Harvey Dent tomorrow, I said I'd go."

"Where?"

"Bruce Wayne's Penthouse. Please don't be mad," I beg slightly, I guess I am just trying to avoid his bullshit. Sometimes Lucas can get a little bit of a control freak and I think he does it because he knows that my life was at jeopardy a few weeks ago. I am starting to believe that what Ilia had said about the Joker was true.

"He's a nobody, he's got no connections."

I have been doing some research on him and interestingly enough, he has hit up a couple more banks since I was first assigned the case. Evidence is hard to scrounge out but I think, give or take a few months, we will have him behind bars in no time.

"So it's not a date," Lucas states more than he questions.

"No, it's not a date; I'm just going with him to visit. He like my other brother Lucas, so don't worry."

"I'm not worried," he says quickly, "I'm not."

There is an uncomfortable pause.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask.

"No. No, I'm not. I'm happy for you that you met up with an," he swallows, "old friend."

"Okay," I whisper.

"We are going to have to get you a dress, aren't we?" Lucas says, now grinning.

"It's okay, I have the white one that I ca-"

"No Eva," Lucas interrupts, "No, if you are going to be amongst Gotham's finest, then we're going to have to get you something special."

"Really Lucas, it's fine."

We come to a red light and he turns to face me temporarily.

"Come on," he looks at me with his intelligent brown eyes. I watch them slide over my body and he places a hand on my leg that is closest to him, "Let me make you happy."

I smile at him and touch his hand.

"Lucas, a dress doesn't define me," I blink slowly as I say this.

"No, but I want you to feel like the most beautiful woman there."

I sigh.

He is just so sweet, how can I say no?

"Okay."

"Okay," he confirms.

The light turns green and he says to me, "Your place or mine?"

"Mine."

Lucas nods and turns to the right to go to the hotel that I am staying at.

We soon arrive there.

"Do you want me to walk you up?"

"I'm fine, thanks though."

"Okay. Take care, Eva. I'll be by here tomorrow at about eleven to take you out to find a dress."

"Alright, thank you."

He nods, "Sure thing."

I climb out and soon find myself in my nice room.

I turn on the news just to see if anything has happened that I don't know about.

Nope.

Same old same old.

I sigh, grab some clothes, and walk over to the bathroom.

I need a shower.

As I walk over though, the voice on the T.V. catches my attention.

"What you are about to witness may be disturbing. Viewer discretion is advised."

There on the screen is a man bound to a steel chair. His black hair is matted to his forehead and his head lolls forward. He has a badge attached to his blue shirt that anyone down at the GPD could recognize anywhere.

A Gotham police officer badge.

The video looks like it was shot on a cam quarter.

"Tell them your name," the cameraman's voice says. I feel my blood freeze in my fearful veins. My stomach twists into an anxiety knot for I recognize that voice.

The Joker.

I watch in horror as the man manages to sputter, "Alex."

"Tell them what you do? Are you the bread winner, Alex?"

Alex whimpers, "I am an officer at the GPD. Please..."

A purple sleeved arm and purple gloved hand comes into the picture and strokes the side of Alex's pale face.

"Shh shh shh…" The Joker coos and then he cuffs the man once on each side of the face. "Now," the Joker's hand continues to cuff at the Alex's face, "As an officer, I am sure that you would be delighted to tell us how you feel about the Batman. Do you think he has made Gotham a better place?"

"He's a emblem that gave my family and Gotham hope. He gave us a reason not to be afraid of scum like you."

Oh god.

His family.

Murderer.

"Oh you do Alex, you really do. But you know what; I'll make you a deal. Like a-uh collateral. Do you know an Eva Duren? Do you know where I might find her, hmm? We have some, uh, unfinished business."

My heart just about stops.

Shit.

Alex shakes his head from side to side slowly and mouths something, "Bastard."

"What's that Alex?" the Joker's voice raises in question. He then turns the camera on himself. Red lips peel back to reveal discolored yellow teeth. His dark eyes look like pits leading into hell. His red painted scars bob up and down on his white cheeks as he speaks to the camera.

"You see this is how crazy Batman has made Gotham. You want order in Gotham, then Batman must take off his mask and turn himself in. Oh and as for Eva Duren, she must come out and quit playing hid and seek. Every day that Batman doesn't turn himself in and every day Eva Duren is still breathing without me by her side, then people will die. Starting tonight. I am a man of my word," The Joker then unleashes a sickening laugh. The cam quarter's video them becomes erratic and blurred in picture. Alex's screams make their way into small blips sound on the video's audio.

The newscaster then comes back on and I shut off the T.V. feeling petrified. My hands are trembling and I feel as if I am going to vomit.

Dent was right.

The Joker took this public.

I walk over to my bed and sit down. I then draw my knees up to my chest and snake my thin arms around them. Tears begin to flow down my washed out cheeks and I wretch, trying not to vomit. I cry for myself and for Alex; that man does not deserve his fate.

For what seems like an eternity I sit like this, enveloped in my own self pity.

All of that changes when my phone rings.

It is Gordon.

"Hello?"

"Eva," Gordon says, almost out of breath, "Are you at your-"

"Yes."

"You are not to leave without my permission, you got that? The Joker has recently sent in a video to press. I-"

"I know Lieutenant. I've seen it."

Gordon lets out a sigh that statics through the phone line.

"What do you want me to do Lieutenant?" I ask.

"I want you to stay put."

"Alright."

"I'll call you soon," Gordon says.

The phone call ends.

I sit there for a while, filled with rage or sadness, whichever one it is I cannot tell. I glance at the electric alarm clock that rest on the nightstand by my bed.

It is now eight thirty.

I walk over my window that overlooks Gotham city. The blinds to it are closed so I open them to reveal Gotham in its finest hours.

The hours of the night.

When the sun is asleep, that is when some of the greatest and most terrifying things come out to play.

I look up towards the dark clouded sky.

There is no moon tonight, nor does the insignia of our savior shine out. I wish to see the Batman again someday, just to say thank you. Maybe he is not human, maybe he is something more, something that will never be forgotten and will never be thanked by the people of Gotham. Yet one day, if one listens closely, there might be murmurs of his name, wisps of it in the night air of Gotham. A silent prayer to our angel is what we will all hear.

Someday.

But not tonight.

Tonight is when I need to speak with him. What the Joker wants is the Batman and me. I will not be able to live with myself if I do not do anything and let more people die instead of me. It already happened once, with my best friend and soon to be the second time with the man named Alex. Sometimes, I feel I have learned the hard way and then I realize that it probably was Ilia.

My greatest fear is that of death.

I fear the Joker because I fear death and to know that he wants to see me beg him, see me tremble and fall due to inflictions from him, is horrifying. However, the scariest factor is I do not even know why.

I look at the sky again and make my decision.

I leave the hotel room and make quickly for the parking lot.

Ilia's bike is in sight.

I reach it and tear to the GPD on it. When I arrive there, I try my best to climb quietly up the fire escape to the rooftop. Thankfully, I make it to the rooftop creating too much ruckus. I see that the special spotlight which casts the symbol into the sky is off. Slowly and nervously, I walk up to it and switch it on with a shaky small hand.

It beams into the sky in all of its glory.

A sigh of pride and apprehension shakes out of me. I do not really know if the Batman will show or not; all I can do is hope that he will.

Gordon is going to kill me.

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A/N: Okay, as you can probably all start to see, this story is going to entwine itself into "The Dark Knight". This is a character development and morality story. Please Review. I am wondering as a writer if you readers find this story entertaining or not. If it is moving to slow, tell me. If it is moving too fast, tell me. Let me know what you all think, feel and hopefully look forward to reading. Even constructive criticism is great! Thanks again for the millionth time to all of you who have taken the time to give feedback and thanks to all of you who take the time to read "City of the Fallen."

BTW: If you are a reader and don't have an account, I enabled the anonymous reviews thing-y! Yay for you!