So, hello again! Yes I know it's been a long long long time since I've updated. And I'm sorry. I just lost my inspiration to keep writing. But I feel obligated to finish this fic. So I will. Chapter five, here we come!
Note: I own nothing of the Batman franchise, that is DC's job. (Along with the amazing Mr. Christopher Nolan.) I only own Nicolette, my plot line, and the other characters I've created.
ON WITH THE SHOW!
NICOLETTE ANDERSON
The night quickly turned to an early dawn. It was cold today and threatening to rain. Nicolette sat in her living room, watching the heavy rain clouds condense and move across the city skyline. She has awoken around seven this morning, happy to have a class at noon instead of ten. She'd be able to work out later in the morning and have some much-needed relaxation time to herself.
So she sat, snuggled up on the couch, reading the paper. Nicolette wasn't exactly looking forward to any articles that might appear in today's edition. The front page though, wasn't prattling about Bruce Wayne, her, or any other trivial matter. More bodies. Discovered just the night before. Nicolette kept reading.
Gotham: A Time of Terror Pt II? Last night five more charred bodies were found, this time fresh, in a blood-filled alleyway in the Narrows. In the past three days alone seven victims have been found- two of them identified. The newest victims are said to range from the ages of twenty to twenty-five, ethnicities varying. Whether or not this was a planned attack is not known and the GPD is working around the clock to try to stop this madness now.
Is this the work of a serial killer? Another insanity-driven man like The Joker? God only knows. What's going on Gotham?
Nicolette looked over the article twice, along with the accompanying photographs. It was a horror, an atrocity. I still can't believe Lucy's gone… and Krysten and Lucy. Where are they? Outside, the storm finally broke, unleashing a downpour of rain. In the distance she could see flashes and streaks of blue and white lightning. The thunder that followed shook the whole room.
"If this keeps up I'm going to have to cancel my class." Nicolette said aloud. And keep up it did.
Four hours later the condition was only worse. Somewhere around ten o'clock the wind picked up and the rain was joined by hail.
"The weather seems to follow the mood of Gotham." She mused. Nicolette was still in loungewear, laying on her plush carpet reading. The newspaper sat, crinkled up, on the couch where she had left it once she read the article after her and Bruce's 'love.' The phone was to her right; she had called in to cancel her class for the day, thankful the college office agreed with her call. Even if they hadn't, the weather was so bad she wouldn't be able to make it there.
Nicolette had even called Barb, who assured her that there would still be rehearsal that afternoon. Even though she wasn't particularly thrilled about that, Nicolette looked at the bright side. It's rare when I have this much time to myself.
BRUCE WAYNE
Alfred let Bruce sleep in today. After the early morning surprise of seeing a grime-covered and frayed Bruce, Alfred figured he could use a good rest. It was about noon when Alfred finally walked into Bruce's room. The man was still asleep, tangled in the bed sheets like a restless child. Outside, the thunder pierce the constant rhythm of the rain.
"Master Wayne." Alfred called his name as he pulled open the heavy, black-out curtains. The rain was pouring so hard it sounded like bullets against the glass.
"Hnn-Alfred? Bruce sat up groggily, wincing as the room lit up due to a flash of lightning.
"It is noon sir, and I've prepared a lunch. Come down to eat." Alfred felt bad ordering him around, but Bruce needed someone to remind him to eat.
"Alright I'll be there in a moment." Bruce slunk back against his pillows, quietly watching the storm outside. It fit his mood at the moment: angry, volatile, and dreary. He was glad Alfred has let him sleep so long. He probably would've ended up sulking anyhow. Bruce eventually got up and slugged through his push-ups and down to the kitchen. Whatever Alfred had made smelled good, but Bruce didn't feel like eating.
"You're going to eat Master Wayne, whether you want to or not." Bruce smiled; Alfred could always read him. Bruce stared at the plate of homemade food that Alfred had just placed in front of him. There was a loaded silence in the kitchen and Bruce knew that he needed to speak soon.
"Last night was… horrifying. Even for the Batman." He took a bite of food to stall time.
"Care to explain what happened Master Wayne? The papers aren't very well informed I'm afraid." Bruce started speaking, relaying every detail, every word, that he heard last night. Alfred listened, his face stoical. Bruce's tale lasted at least half an hour, and by the end of it he seemed mentally drained.
"Somehow I need to talk to Lucy." He muttered, taking a sip of juice. "She's an inside source. She knows more, much more, than I heard last night. I know it."
"I'll look into it for you Sir. Now finish your meal and take a hot bath. Those bruises must be aching by now." Bruce nodded. In all honestly, he was feeling rather sore.
"Polo's a rough sport." He grinned half-heartedly. It was their little inside joke.
"Extremely Sir." Alfred walked away, down to the cave. Bruce, his mind a million miles away, snapped open the paper only to find himself grimace. As he read the front page, his face became very grave.
"What am I going to do!" He whispered, his head handing. Bruce could almost picture Rachel lecturing him, not afraid to tell him exactly what she was thinking. I miss that about her.
"I'll figure this out for Rachel, for Harvey." Bruce closed his eyes, grief overcoming him. No matter what he knew, he would always feel responsible for their death, both of them. Bruce sat like this for a while, his head down-shoulders slumped. Inside he felt the most vulnerable he had in months. It was only when he heard steps approaching that he sat back up and unfolded the newspaper once more.
The second page story wasn't too much of a shock. A full page spread filled with pictures and blurbs about Nicolette and himself. He sighed scanning the page. Some of the things he read were actually interesting. Nicolette grew up in Gotham and her parents were notable in the University scene. Definitely a well-brought up child with money. There was a quote from a Ms. Barbara Matthews, the head of the Gotham Ballet Company, but it didn't reveal much about Nicolette. Another blurb was taken from a waiter in the café that they had been to yesterday. 'It seemed as if Mr. Wayne was indifferent. He left a few minutes after they arrived, though his departure was quite rapid.'
"The media seems to think that you've broke up with Miss Anderson." Alfred remarked airly. Bruce frowned, seeing a picture of her confused face after he fled.
"It's hard to break up with someone you're not officially dating." Bruce offered up a small grin. "I've asked her to dinner on Friday." "It's nice to hear sir." Alfred looked at Bruce who was, again, perusing the article. "She's very pretty." He said, nonchalantly.
"Yes… she is…" Bruce replied offhandedly. He was still further investigating the news spread.
"But you don't just like her for her looks, right Master Wayne?"
"No of course not. She's extremely intelligent. Almost like…" He forbid himself to compare the two, out loud at least. Bruce looked at the picture again. She really is gorgeous. Her teeth were straight and her lips looked soft and pink. Everything about her just screams 'delicate' but in reality she's not at all. And her eyes. Bruce was entranced by them, even on the page. But as Bruce has said, it wasn't just her looks. He loved her wittiness, her sharpness of tongue, the way she treated him like a normal human being…
"Yes, different indeed." He murmured again.
KRYSTEN HALLOWELL
It's warm. Very warm. Too warm. Krysten sat in a dark room with four other girls. It was silent. No tears, no screaming, no chit chat to pass the aching hours. They were all past that phase. Now they were waiting, each one of them shivering despite the heat, their eyes wide and dilated from the drugs. In their heads the words the man had repeated over and over and over taunted them viciously. 'This life is tainted. You are ready to be born anew. Embrace the fire.'
They heard it everyday. Now they just sat, waiting to see who would crack next. At one point, the room was full, the girls crowding the space. Now there were only five. Five teenagers riddled on drugs and cult propaganda. They were told that once they'd embrace their 'fate,' they could leave the room and be treated as queens. Whatever that meant. Krysten wanted to leave the room. She barely remembered her name, let alone her life.
Standing up, she found herself yelling the words they had told her.
"My life is tainted! I am ready to be born anew! I embrace the fire!" The other girls only looked at her, their brains too muddled to care. Two men entered the room, not two minutes later, all dressed in red. They took Krysten by her arms, blindfolded her, and led her away. They walked for what seemed like eons, until they eventually stopped The blindfold was removed and a large, warm room lay before Krysten's eyes.
The floors were made of a dark grey stone, possibly slate. Around her the walls looked like old bricks painted over to be a dark maroon red. Along the back wall a row of girls sat, cloaked in red. Directly in front of her a tall man was standing.
"Welcome, daughter. You've seen the light, joined the enlightened. Soon enough, your new life will begin." His hood fell, revealing a white, deeply scarred face. Deep brown eyes squinted back at her. "The Phoenix welcomes you." A red robe was then placed around her and Krysten was directed to the back of the room. She sat down next to the last girl in line. Krysten looked sideways at her, only to realize that the girl was looking back at her.
"Wha-" Krysten was trying to put together a sentence, but her riddled brain wasn't allowing it. The other girls eyes grew wide, two large bloodshot orbs.
"Quiet." She mouthed. The tall group of hooded men advanced towards them. The leading man held a tray that was laden with brass cups. They started with Krysten.
"Drink." She was ordered and took a cup from them. The liquid inside smelled slightly medicinal, chalky, but also was reeking of liquor. Without a thought Krysten downed the drink, just as the others did. It went down slowly, the smell clogging her nose and the chalk-like residue sticking to her throat. Krysten's eyes felt heavy and her head even more jumbled than it had been before. She slumped back against the wall, her hands shaking.
It was warm. Much, much too warm.
NICOLETTE ANDERSON.
The storm hadn't really lightened, but Nicolette knew that she needed to try to get to rehearsal, as Barb hadn't called to cancel. She left her building quietly, a heavy coat wrapped around her body. Nicolette's umbrella hung limply at her side; the wind was far too strong to even attempt opening it. Nicolette ran down her street, shielding her face as best she could against the occasional hail pellet.
Thankfully, the trains were still operational. Once she reached the station she gladly climbed into the cold, but dry interior. It was almost empty. Nicolette settled in a seat near the door, cautiously watched the only other passenger, who was trying to discreetly watch her. Another flash and a peal of lightning and the man jumped to his feet.
"Don't touch me." Nicolette warned, springing to her feet as well. Muggings in Gotham were almost commonplace as of late, but you never knew how far things were going to go. Nicolette left her bags by the seat as she backed up.
"Come without a struggle. No harm will be brought upon you if you comply. You should be honored." Nicolette kept her distance. The man's eyes were practically glazed over and he spoke in a coo-like whisper. When will this train stop? Nicolette thought in a panic. Her heart was beating in her chest. I'm a good fighter, but not against a 6'6' man that's probably twice my weight. In an enclosed space.
"What are you talking about?" She questioned, trying to bide herself some time.
"It's an honor to be chosen. You'll have a new life." Nicolette tried to avoid his dead-looking eyes, by glancing out the window. The station was approaching. The man followed her glance, realized that his time was almost up, and made a lunge for Nicolette, who merely dodged him and made a punch for his ribs.
"If you haven't gotten the idea, I'm obviously not interested." Nicolette used her palm to smash his nose, but he was able to corner her and land a solid punch near her temple. Nicolette fell, rapidly blacking out as the blood trickled from her temple. The man fled, knocking past several drenched businessmen waiting on the platform.
"Someone call 911!" A man yelled, entering the train and seeing Nicolette. A frenzy of activity erupted as another person went to signal the shutting down of the train. It took a full seven minutes for the ambulance to arrive, due to the horrid conditions outside. The paramedics rushed up to the terminal, carrying a portable stretcher with them. Once they loaded Nicolette up and placed a towel over her face, they rushed off heading towards the newly rebuilt, Gotham General.
30 MINUTES LATER…
Nicolette found herself in a bright room, the overhead fluorescents too bright for her eyes. Her head throbbed and she wasn't thinking quite straight. Looking around, Nicolette surveyed her surroundings.
She was able to declare her location to Gotham General, that was pretty obvious. The room was nice and small. The walls were a new, freshly painted white. Nicolette heard bustle in the hall outside her closed door. Next to the bed was the usual: heart monitor, I.V. drip, the works. Nicolette put a hand gingerly to her left temple and was shocked to feel the smooth ridges of stitches.
That sonnvabitch must've gotten me pretty well. The area around the stitches felt swollen and tender.
"Miss, please refrain from irritating your wound." A nurse walked into the room, carrying a clipboard with her. Nicolette lowered her hand in silence. "It's good that you're up. Your parents are here to see you."
"Really?" Jeez, it was just a cut. Nicolette laid her head back, already dreading this oncoming altercation.
"If you don't feel up to visitors we don't have to allow them entry." The nurse checked the stitches, sprayed some kind of antibiotic on the area, and then stepped back again.
"No it's alright. They can come in." A minute or two later, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson entered the room. Nicolette's father, Terry, was tall and still had a head full of grey hair upon is head. He was well dressed in a sport coat and black trousers. His glasses were perched upon his nose as he skeptically surveyed the room. Nicolette's mother, Pamela, stood at a medium height. Her hair was graying, but still held the same color of blonde that Nicolette had. She was dressed in a maroon blazer and black jeans. Her face held an air of wisdom, yet still managed to be snotty.
"Dear, what in the world happened?" Pamela sat by the bed, making sure her knees were crossed and her hands were positioned daintily in her lap.
"It's really not a big deal Mother. A man tried to jump me on the train." "Well he obviously did." Her mother examined the slight head wound with distaste.
"He didn't take anything of mine. He got in a lucky punch is all. I defended myself."
"I don't like you taking the train. I told you we would get you a car if need be." Terry finally spoke up.
"Dad, really, it's not a big deal. Much worse has happened in Gotham before." Her dad didn't reply, but sat back with a scowl.
"Where were you going anyway? This weather is simply dreadful." Nicolette felt the urge to roll her eyes. Her parents probably never felt a drop of rain, seeing as they had dedicated drivers and footmen.
"Rehearsals."
"I don't understand why you're doing this Nicci. I told you there's plenty of opportunities for you at the Uni. You could stop all this running around, get out of that dreadful community college and-"
"Mother. You know why I do what I do. Please, drop my career choices alright? I have a splitting headache and I really don't feel like doing this now." Pamela shut up after that.
"Nicci, dear, there's a policeman that would like to talk to you, if you don't mind. He wanted us to precede him though, to see how you were feeling." "I'm fine. He can come in." Her parents quickly got up, leaving Nicolette to her own devices. Mostly, she just tried to ignore the pain that was now radiating from her head. Nowadays her parent's constant disapproval was usual; it barely scratched her shell anymore.
"Miss Anderson?" A voice came from the doorway. Nicolette immediately looked up and recognized Commissioner Gordon; she'd seen him on the television as well as the covers of the newspapers.
"Commissioner?"
"Gordon." He had a small smile on his face as he walked towards the bed and sat down in the small chair next to her.
"I hope you're doing well, considering the circumstances." He offered her his hand, which she accepted quickly. The Commissioner looked like a decent, hard-working man. His glasses covered the bags under his tired eyes, but Nicolette could tell he worked like a madman. He possessed a kind face though, which meant a great deal.
"I'm fine, really. It's just a scratch."
"Well I'm going to need to collect a report from you, just a few questions really. If you're a little muddled about exactly what happened, it's alright. You can always contact me later." Nicolette nodded in response.
"Could you give me a physical description of the man? Any distinct traits?"
"He was really tall. Nearing seven foot I'd say. So tall that when you saw him you'd immediately feel ant-sized. He was bald as well. Heavy, but in a muscular way. His eyes… they were almost dead-looking. Almost like he was drunk or on some sort of trip."
Gordon nodded and noted everything that she had said.
"That's good. Now, if you can give me a recount of the encounter, that would help a ton."
"I entered the train and sat near the exit. No one else was on board, except him. I noticed that he was watching me, so I put myself on guard. Eventually he just sprung up and I did as well. It all happened so fast. He started talking really strangely saying stuff like 'come with me, you won't be harmed.' Stuff like that." Nicolette paused as Gordon tried to catch up with her words.
"Anything else?"
"He told me something like 'I'll have a new life.' I know this sounds ridiculous… Then it just sort of broke into a fight. He managed to get a good punch at my head." She motioned to her temple and scowled.
"Thank you so much for your time. I wish you a speedy recovery. If you remember anything else, please call me." He handed her his card from the department. Gordon shook her hand again and began to leave, but stopped before he left the room. "Miss Anderson, I'm just passing out some friendly advice here… but watch yourself on these streets. Gotham hasn't been rid of it's scum just yet."
"Thanks for the tip. I've been keeping up on all the news." Gordon frowned, his eyes filling with sadness. He tapped the door frame, nodded at her, and departed.
"I guess things are worse that I thought." Nicolette whispered as her room was filled with silence once again. The rain was still pounding outside.
BRUCE WAYNE
The day inside had been sheer torture for Bruce. He wandered the halls of the manor, worked out, showered, avoided Alfred's constant naggings on him eating more, and sat in the cave. The rain hadn't let up any.
Maybe I could call…no… that would just be weird.
"You're Bruce Wayne. Man up." He told himself. The phone was in reach. "It's just a phone call." He dialed her number and waited for the ringing to end and her voice to respond.
"Hello?" It wasn't the voice he wanted though.
"Is Nicolette there?" He was slightly confused. "It's Bruce."
"Oh you." A sigh followed. "No, she's not here."
"Is this Marina?" He thought her voice sounded slightly Hispanic.
"Yes it is Bruce. What exactly is it that you needed?"
"I was just wanting to talk to Nicolette… do you know how I can get a hold of her?" This idea of his was slowly failing.
"I do, but she's not exactly up for taking leisure calls right now." Another sigh. "She's in the hospital. I'm getting some clothes for her." This was news to Bruce.
"Is she alright? What happened?"
"Some behemoth on the train tried to mug her I guess. She would've been fine, but he was able to get in a lucky punch… you know how well she fights." Marina laughed, but stopped fairly quickly. "But it's nothing serious. The doctors just want to observe her for a night, make sure she doesn't have a concussion y'know."
"Right. Well tell her I said to get better soon. We still have our date on Friday."
"Date! Since when! Oh my god. She is going to hear about this. Sorry Bruce, but I've really got to go." The line disconnected and Bruce was left with the dial tone.
"Women." He rolled his eyes and put the phone back on the hook. In his mind though, he was worrying about this mugging. Nicolette was a strong fighter, which meant that this man must've been huge and decent. What did Marina call him… a behemoth?
"What is going on in Gotham?" He murmured, directing his stare out the window. The rain was barraging the windows and the lightning was almost enough to light a whole room. Something was brewing out there. He could feel it.
There we go. Chapter five. I know it's not all that grand, but for leaving this piece alone for about two and a half months and then picking it up again... I thought it was ok. I added a little different point of view, which I enjoyed writing.
Please, review. If you review I'll be more motivated to sit here and write for you. I need to know someone still wants to read this.
-K