Well, my reviews are dwindling. So I'm just gonna say here that I really like reviews, and it's kinda sad when I don't get many. I know that it's a long story. I'm sorry. But please review. =)

Sabre—I totally agree with you. I would hate telling people about someone they care about dying. I almost cried a few times in that movie! Don't worry about jetlag. The stuff sucks, and I had a wart once. I got it removed. ECK!!! I'm glad that you liked it.

Fairy Skull—Yeah. Bad Alfred! =) I'm so glad that you liked it. Sorry it took a while to update.

Hannah—I can't believe that it's only on my story. I guess I feel loved by the fate of music. =) Here's your next update.

Madelineex3—Yup, Alfred probably retaliated his vulnerability with feistiness. As I told Sabre, I would hate to tell someone that, and I don't know how Bruce is gonna react in this story. I'm glad that you like it, and I'll always try to keep up the good work.

OK, I don't have much to say. Enjoy!

When I reached MCU, I hit the breaks and slammed my foot down on the wet, slightly muddy concrete. I turned off the roar of the motorbike and pulled my helmet off. I sat it on the seat and stared at the fire crews putting out what was left of the flames. I saw a group of officers with their heads bowed together with, what looked like, the top officer's mouth moving in quiet prayer. That's when it hit me, like a ton of bricks, that the Joker was completely kicking the crap out of us, and the light at the end of our tunnel was quickly fading. I fell to the ground on my knees with my hands on the rough ground. I pulled my torso up and stared at the half skeletal building that I went to work in everyday, knowing that we had lost more men in this explosion.

I heard my dad call my name and the splashing of his shoes as he ran to me. He squatted down in front of me and cocked his head. "Alex, this isn't like you at all. What's up?"

I just shook my head. "How do you keep hope when something like this happens?"

Dad looked like he was searching himself as he answered me. "Because…" He sighed and thought a little bit more. "Because, Al, there is still a lot of good in this city, even in this police force."

"Enough good to stop the Joker?" I wondered hopelessly.

Dad looked completely calm. "Enough good to stop the Joker." He smiled gently. "C'mon," he said raising his hands into the air, nearly falling over, "we got Batman and Dent."

"Dad, think rationally," I hissed, exasperated. "If Dent makes it through this, he'll be shot mentally and emotionally. And, I hate to say this, but I don't think that we can trust Batman anymore."

"Alex, I thought that you trusted him with your life."

"I did, and it nearly got the Joker killed, not that that would be a bad thing, but that's not the point," I explained. "I trusted him to get the information from the Joker, but not nearly kill him. That mistake could've gotten me arrested as 'Accomplice to Murder.' You know that."

He nodded. "You had good intentions," he mumbled.

"Good intentions don't change what happened!" I exclaimed and received a glance from the group of officers.

Dad placed his hand on the side of my neck and rubbed his thumb against my cheek. "Then I guess it's just us, Sweetie." He smiled.

I smiled back and let out a little laugh.

He patted my cheek causing to contort my face. "Never gets old," he joked. He stood up and offered his hand for me to get up.

I stood up and dusted my hands off.

"You are aware of how you look right now, right?" Dad wondered.

"Yeah," I confirmed. "I look like crap."

Dad raised one eyebrow in a little bit of a shrug. "Go home, take a shower, and come back ready to pick up pieces and win this war." He smiled. "I love you, Al. Don't ever doubt that," Dad said softly.

"I don't; never have."

He turned away to walk back to MCU.

I grabbed my helmet. "Hey, Dad," I called after him.

He turned around.

"Love ya too." I smiled and pulled the helmet over my head and watched the man that I had looked up to for so long walk back to serving his city, family, and friends after faking his death and hearing about the death of his best friend. If Dad still saw hope for this forsaken place, then there must still be some out there. I straddled the bike and revved the engine before kicking out the kickstand and riding back to my small apartment.

Once I got home, I threw the keys onto the table beside the door and untied my shoes, kicking them off as I walked over to the fridge. I grabbed a beer and pulled my cell phone from my pocket and plugged it into the charger, assuming that it was dead, which it was. I flipped on the lights in my room and slowly moved to the bathroom. I flipped on the light, fan and heat light. I stripped down to my tank top and boyshorts before turning on the hot water from the shower. I grabbed my pants and shirt and carried them back into my room, dumping them into the laundry basket, along with a lot of other clothes that needed to be washed. Mental Note: go to Laundromat.

I grabbed my iHome with my iPod and walked back into the steamy bathroom. I put on some classic rock from the 60s and 70s, turned it up all the way, stripped down to the bare and stepped inside the shower. The hot water poured over my skin, washing all the dirt and grime away. I grabbed the shampoo and lathered it in my hair before rinsing it out. I sang to the music as I just stood in the warm water for a while. I eventually shut it off and grabbed a towel, wrapping its fluffiness around me. I left the music playing as I walked back to my room and grabbed a pair of briefs and jeans. I pulled them as I grabbed a sports bra and a plain olive t-shirt; then I put them on. I grabbed my badge and gun with holster from the cargo pants and clipped them onto the belt that I was currently wearing.

I shut off the music with a pout, but grabbed my earphones and stuffed the iPod into my pocket. I strode back into the kitchen and took a swig from the beer bottle and pulled the phone from the charger and turned it on. I stuffed in my pocket, but it beeped, letting me know that I had a voice message. I pressed the phone to my ear and listened to the message as I sipped away at my beer.

"Hey, Alex," Bruce said quietly. "It's me. Bruce." There was a sigh with a slight quiver. "I know that you all ready know this since you told Alfred, but Rachel is gone." There was an almost inaudible sob with a long pause. "I just needed someone to talk to about this; someone to vent to, someone other than Alfred. I'm sorry that I'm dumping this on you, but I couldn't think of anyone else." There was another pause and another sob. "Alex, I can't do this anymore. I just can't. I loved her, and… and she was gonna wait."

I closed my eyes, knowing that he had no idea about Harvey Dent asking her to marry him.

"It's all my fault. I brought this upon her." There was another pause. "Sorry, Al. I just had to talk to someone other than Alfred." He sighed heavily. "Talk to ya later." There was a click. Then the robotic lady came on. "End of message."

I hit 7 and stuffed it back in my pocket. I swallowed the last little bit of my beer and walked towards the door. I grabbed my leather jacket off the hook and pulled it on as I went back downstairs. I pulled my hair back into a low ponytail and walked out the door into the chilly air. The sky was beginning to turn orange, signaling dawn approaching the city of Gotham. I pulled my helmet over my head and lowered the sun visor and rode back to MCU with my iPod playing the song I left off on. The beginnings of morning rush hour were coming onto the streets. It amazed me that almost no one knew what had happened the night before. I finally made it to MCU and walked into the wreckage.

I climbed the staircase considering the fact that the elevator was completely destroyed. After four flights, I was at what was the floor my office was on. I opened the door and saw less mayhem than I thought there would be. There were singed papers on the ground that would be completely useless from this point on. I walked through the clutter, knowing that this would be one heck of a rebuild, but surprisingly, officers, detectives, and firemen were still joking around with one another. Dad was right; there was still good in this place. I stepped over a toppled filing cabinet and made it to my office. The glass was blown out thanks to the explosion. All the files on the Joker were scattered about, but still mildly usable for the future. Under a shard of glass, there was a picture poking out. The edges were black and jagged, but most of the picture was still there. I felt tears come into my eyes as I stuffed the picture of Martin and I into my back pocket.

"Mornin', Al," I heard Dad say from the doorway.

I smiled and wiped the tears away. "I think my office could use some renovations," I joked as I turned around.

Dad laughed. "Well, you could just get a new office." He winked at me.

I folded my arms. "What are you talking about?"

Dad's phone rang. "I'll tell you later." He answered his phone, "Gordon." There was a pause. "Of course. We'll be right over." He hung up and slipped the phone back into its case. "Dent's up and asking for us."

"That can't be good," I mumbled.

"My guess is, he's delirious," Dad said just a little louder than under his breath.

We both laughed and headed out the black SUV to head to the hospital. I leaned back in the seat and grabbed my iPod. I plugged it in so that music would play. Dad glanced over at me with a glint in his eye.

I sighed. "Dad, it's not gonna hurt anyone, and it lowers stress levels," I reasoned.

He turned back to the traffic jam that we were currently stuck in. I saw his tense shoulders begin to loosen up as the music continued to play through the speakers. I leaned my head on the headrest for a little while, letting the music give the SUV a somewhat relaxing atmosphere. After a few songs and hearing Dad humming along with one of them, I raised my head back up and looked over him. "Hey, Dad."

"Yeah?" he said as we finally pulled onto the road that lead to the hospital.

I breathed deeply clearing my mind of any unwanted thoughts. "We'll make it through this." I smiled and looked in his eyes. There was some doubt there, but there was even less hope. I couldn't believe that it was me giving Dad hope.

He nodded and pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. We both got out of the car and walked into the foreboding Gotham General Hospital. Dad strode ahead of me to talk to the nurse, but my attention was caught by the news on the TV in the waiting room.

"We'll be live at five with the true identity of the Batman." I looked at my watch, which read 10:55. Why were they telling us about this now? Save it for the dang 5 o'clock news. I sighed and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

"Al," Dad called. He jerked his head in the direction of what I assumed was Dent's room. "C'mon." He walked off without me.

I jogged to catch up and walked into Dent's hospital room, which was a sea foam green and stark white. Dad stood silently by his side for a while, probably having no idea what to say. The window behind the bed let some sunlight seep in. There were a ton of machines, and most of them were hooked up to Dent, who lay silently in the bed looking off at the far wall so that we could only see the right side of his face. There were wrist restraints that held his arms in place. There was no way he would ever be serving Gotham again.

Dad had shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his brown coat. I saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed any nervousness left. "I'm sorry about Rachel," he said quietly.

Dent's face scrunched up, like he was about to cry.

I watched silently, breathing slow deep breaths. "The doctor says you're in agonizing pain, but you won't accept medication." I swallowed hard after getting a slight glare from Dad. "That you're refusing to accept skin graphs," I acknowledged, not hiding the concern in my voice. Yeah, the guy was a jerk, but he just lost his girlfriend, and maybe his fiancée. I knew what it was like to lose someone that close to me. Martin, I thought to myself with a sigh.

Dent decided to speak. "Remember that name…" he swallowed "…you all had for me… when I was at Internal Affairs? What was it, Gordon?"

"Harvey, I don't—" Dad began.

"Say it," Dent whispered, but getting no reply, "SAY IT!"

Dad flinched.

"Two Face," I said a little too quickly.

Dad elbowed me in the stomach and glared. "Harvey Two Face," Dad mumbled his knowledge.

I rolled my eyes at Dad. "You know I just said that," I whispered harshly to him.

Dad nudged me as Dent turned his head to look at us. His face was half black and red, completely burned. His jawbone was visible, along with the muscles in his mouth. The hair was gone, and his eyelid was too. Definitely fit his nickname, but it just made me trust him even less. Dad's jaw was visibly lower than it was earlier, and mine was clenched up against the roof of my mouth. I felt my hands turn into tight fists, but kept my composure, and my sarcasm, in check.

"Why should I hide who I am?" he growled.

"I… I know you tried to warn me. I'm sorry," Dad said as the nice cop. "I know Wuertz picked you up. Was he working for them?"

Dent sighed his annoyance.

Dad kept his calm. "Do you know who picked up Rachel?" Dad continued, but the only response we got from Dent was a sigh and a turned head.

"Dent!" I demanded with control. "We need to know which of our men we can trust."

Dent rolled his head back over part way. "Why would you listen to me now?"

I never did, I retorted in my head.

"I'm sorry, Harvey," Dad said genuinely.

Dent faced us again. "No, no you're not," he growled. "Not yet."

Dad walked out, leaving me behind for a second.

I leaned over Dent's bed. "Watch it, Dent," I hissed. "I can still whoop your ass if I need to." I smirked and patted his hand as I walked out. I ran into Dad as I walked out the door.

He was standing like a statue staring at someone. Maroni was that someone.

"This craziness," Maroni said slyly. "It's too much." He pursed his lips.

"Shoulda thought about that before ya let clown out of the box," I said snidely as I pushed past him, hitting his shoulder hard with mine. "C'mon, Dad." I heard Dad's footsteps behind me.

"You wan him?" Maroni negotiated.

Dad and I stopped dead and spun around slowly.

"I can tell ya where he'll be this afternoon," Maroni said. He sounded like this whole ordeal was his fault, which it was, but still. This was Sal Maroni, father of the mob, working with us. Either there was a catch, or he really wanted the Joker gone. I wasn't going with the latter at that point in time.

Okay, not the greatest suspense, but it's a decent ending, and I didn't feel like watching the entire movie again right now. Hope that you like it. PLEASE review! I beg of you. I really like them, and I know that there is a lot of people reading, so can you please review. Enough of my begging. Clicky the button. Until next time.