Good evening folks! Here's what everyone has been waiting for - BRAND SPANKING NEW CHAPTERS OF HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO! It's been a LOOOONNNNGGGG time coming, I know! Thank you everyone for your patience! We're getting there, I promise! ;) Hope you enjoy the newest edition! Be sure to favorite and add the story to your alerts, so you can be the first to read the newest post. As always, hope you submit your reviews! I love to hear from you guys! Until the next chapter, happy reading! - trs0010
Chapter XII: Keep Holding On
Blake checked his watch: 7:02 a.m. It felt later, much later, but he was only functionally on adrenaline at this point and the day had only just begun.
The night before was filled with a fitful attempt at sleep. He spent most of the evening staring at the ceiling. His mind raced, always finding its way back to the detective trapped underground. More than once Blake shot up and sat on the edge of the bed, debating on taking off in the middle of the night to begin searching, but he thought better of it.
The dark was Bane's forte. Blake needed the daylight if he had any chance of finding Cassidy. He would be stumbling around lost like a fool, backtracking his moves and likely losing himself in the labyrinth underneath Gotham, so he waited.
The rare moments he did close his eyes for rest, he tossed and turned, waking up in a sweat. Cassidy plagued his dreams, calling out to him for help. He watched fall under the rock hundreds of times in his mind. Blake wasn't enough to save her.
Blake couldn't decide what was worse – the nightmares or laying awake thinking of every single scenario of what happened to Cassidy Williams.
He couldn't stop himself from checking his phone throughout the night. Every vibration or buzz made his heart stop. Blake was disappointed every time. Cassidy's name never lit up his phone. His text messages went unread. His voicemails, unanswered, but he kept calling.
He was driving himself crazy. Maybe he was already crazy. He had spent years on the force. He had come to expect the worst because he had seen the vilest part of humanity. Blake knew the longer he went without hearing from Cassidy, he should be preparing for a funeral, not a reunion, but he couldn't give up hoping.
Hope was all he had left. Hope that Cassidy Williams was too damn stubborn to go out that way. It wasn't the dramatics suited for her.
At the first rays of the sun shone on the city, Blake fled his apartment armed with a flashlight, his schematics of the sewers and blind ambition.
Foley had touched base with the majority of the units trapped in the center hub, all exits blocked by tons of rock and concrete. Cassidy was not among then, leaving just two options – she either escaped into one of the many sewers that poured into the hub and was lost in the darkness or during the chaos, Cassidy was crushed by the falling debris.
Blake couldn't let that thought enter his mind.
As a one-man unit, he could only do so much. He had to be especially careful as being a member of Gotham's finest put a walking target on his back for Bane and his followers.
Blake entered one manhole at a time, walking as far as he could until the wall of debris met him. He searched through the scattered rocks that he could move aside for any signs of a body, but every time he came up in vain. Nobody in the debris. No Cassidy stumbling her way through the dark.
His relief for the latter was only short lived as the fear of nothing overtook him.
Blake spent hours underground with no sign of her, which brought him to checking his watch that early morning. He gazed up at the massive steel building in front of him. It had been a welcoming sight as of late, but now he was going to enter Cassidy's building for the first time without her waiting for him on the top floor.
There was something he needed to do until he found her.
He took a deep breath to steady himself before he entered the lobby and descended up the stairwell, making the long journey to the 24th floor. He couldn't wait for an elevator. Confined in the small space only reminded him of Cassidy trapped underground.
As he reached closer and closer to the top floor, he began to dig around in his pocket for his keys. Cassidy had given him a spare key the night before her disappearance. She had joked it was in case something ever happened. Maybe she had known more than she let on.
It was poetic irony honestly. Blake had spent the last five years chipping away at the steel trap that contained Cassidy's heart. The moment he finally made progress, and the inklings of a future were growing, the world took her away from him. He scoffed to himself. It was only fitting.
As he entered the top floor, the world became solemn as if no one else existed in the city but Blake. He trudged down the hallway to her door. He stuck the key in the lock, resting his head against the wood before turning the key.
It wasn't until this lonely walk that Blake felt that she might be gone. The laughter and moments they shared over the last week stripped away. He knew once he opened the door, the ghost of her was waiting on the other side of the door., and Blake wasn't sure he was ready for that.
Blake gathered up the courage he had and opened the door. He quickly heard the scurrying of padded feet as Cassidy's golden retriever hurried to the door expecting his owner. That's why Blake was here. Someone had to look after the pup until he brought Cassidy home.
"Hey big guy," Blake called as he knelt to the dog's level, scratching him behind the ear. "Let's get you out of here."
Blake went around the dark, quiet apartment gathering the necessity he needed to care for the dog, placing them all on the dining room table. He stopped outside Cassidy's bedroom.
It was the one room in the apartment he had never been inside. He paused as the guilt of entering without Cassidy's permission built before Blake shook it off. He needed something to tote his new treasures and Cassidy's closet was his best bet.
Blake made a beeline to the closet, finding an empty backpack in the back corner hidden underneath a stack of sweaters. He had every intent of leaving straight away, but he couldn't.
He trudged to the bed, sinking into a sitting position on the edge. Blake was defeated. He needed one moment to let it all out. Blake knew Cassidy, wherever she was, wouldn't want him to give up. She'd want him to move on and to keep fighting, but he needed one second to let his frustrations out.
He slammed his fist against the bedside table, letting out an anguished scream. He jarred the drawer loose with the force of impact, freezing Blake.
The drawer was relatively empty. The biggest component it housed was Cassidy's personal sidearm. Something else caught Blake's attention, though. It was a long, black jewelry case.
Blake carefully removed it from the drawer, flipping open the heavy lid. Inside was a golden chain with a playing card charm – the Queen of Hearts. A note sign from Jack tucked safely inside.
The Joker.
It took everything inside of Blake to not crumble the note up and throw the necklace in the trash, but Cassidy had finally trusted him enough to give him a key. He wasn't going to throw that away because of petty jealousy.
As Blake returned the case to its place inside the drawer, another item met his line of sight. A small, smile crossed his lips as he picked up the worn photo.
It was the same photo of he and Cassidy that Blake kept in his squad car. He had no clue that Cassidy had a copy, let alone kept it beside her bed. By the looks of the worn corners, it was well used.
Blake's shoulders slump as he cradled the photo carefully. It was as if she knew that he needed to see it. That he needed a spark to jump back into the fire.
Cassidy's golden retriever, Hudson, silently jumped on the bed. He lowered his head onto Blake's lap with a quiet sigh. The detective gently stroked his head.
"I miss her too," Blake assured him. "I promise you, bud, I'll bring her home."
He pulled his phone out and dialed the number that he had committed to memory by this point. It went straight to voicemail.
Gordon hadn't taken his eyes off the television screen. Bane had called for a press conference, and reluctant news crews were awaiting his arrival. The jinglingly of keys at the doorway stole his attention away.
John Blake entered the apartment, a backpack thrown over his shoulder, with a giant golden dog. He wasn't the same hotshot detective that visited Gordon while he was in the hospital.
"Make yourself at home, kid," Blake announced to the dog.
Dark circles were under his eyes. His hair was disheveled. He was exhausted and defeated. He was hurting, and there was no word from Cassidy. Blake was taking it harder than anyone.
Blake had ventured out before dawn engulfed the city to search for her. Gordon wanted to join, but he was still recovering from his encounter with Bane. He wasn't up to strength and would have only slowed Blake down. Speed was their only ally.
"Who is this?" Gordon called as Blake let the dog off the leash.
"Hudson," Blake answered, his voice sounding as exhausted as he looked. "He's Cassidy's dog."
"No word." Gordon didn't pose it as a question. Blake just nodded his head and continued to the kitchen with a determined look on his face.
Gordon returned to the television as three camouflage Tumblers rolled onto the screen to join the news crews outside of Blackgate Prison. The newscasters on duty looked even more apprehensive as the large, masked form of Bane appeared from the top of the tumbler. He made his way in front of his armed convoy.
"Behind you stands a symbol of oppression – Blackgate Prison," his muffled voiced called over the silent crowd that gathered before him. "Where a thousand men have languished for years under the Dent Act. Under the name of this…"
Bane procured a photo of Harvey Dent. He was dashing in his suit with his charming smile. Back in the days when he was the champion of Gotham as district attorney, locking up the wretches of villains that called the city home.
"Harvey Dent," Bane continued. "Held up to you, and over you, as a shining example of justice and good."
Gordon straightened up as Bane spoke of Harvey Dent. He subconsciously leaned towards the television screen. Blake paid very little mind to Bane's threats. He was dead set on his next mission.
He emptied the backpack he took from Cassidy's closest, setting up Hudson for his new extended stay at his apartment before gathering up supplies for the next move.
"We're gonna keep moving you, till we can get you in front of a camera," Blake called. "I'll keep Hudson here until we find Cass. Once we have you settled in a new location, I'm heading back down to search."
Gordon didn't hear Blake's game plan. The commissioner was engulfed with Bane as he watched the masked villain light the photo of Harvey Dent on fire with a lighter.
"But they supplied you a false idol," Bane boomed. "A straw man to placate, to stop you tearing down this corrupt city and rebuilding it the way it should have been rebuilt generations ago."
The television cameras caught a faint roar from those encased inside of Blackgate. Bane dropped the burning photo as the ashes of Harvey Dent scattered amongst the ground.
"Let me tell you the truth about Harvey Dent in the words of Gotham's Police Commissioner James Gordon…"
Bane finally piped Blake's attention as he left the kitchen and gravitated towards the television. Gordon grew more and more uneasy as Bane continued.
The huge man retrieved a stack of papers from his pocket, unfolding them carefully. It was the pages from Gordon's undelivered speech. The commissioner knew what was coming next.
"The truth about Harvey Dent is simple in only one regard," Bane recited. "It has been hidden for too long. After his devastating injuries, Harvey's mind had recovered no better than his mutilated face. He was a broken, dangerous man, not the crusader for justice that I, James Gordon, have portrayed him to be for the last eight years."
Blake was stunned as the words poured out of Bane's mouth. Gordon did not say a word, powerless of what was coming next.
"Harvey's rage was indiscriminate," Bane continued dramatically. "Psychopathic. He held my family at gunpoint and then fell to his death in a struggle over my son's life. The Batman did not murder Harvey Dent. He saved my boy then took the blame for Harvey's appalling crimes, so that I could, to my shame, build a lie around this fallen idol."
Gordon lowered his face into his hands. The secret that he had kept for eight years was finally out. He could almost feel the collective, stunned silence that fell on Gotham.
"I praised the mad man who tried to murder my own child. The things we did in Harvey's name brought desperately needed security to our streets, but I can no longer live with my life. It is time to trust the people of Gotham with the truth, and it is time for me to resign."
As Bane concluded, he folded the speech back up before raising it in the air for all to see. "Do you accept this man's resignation?"
The once stunned crowd began to swirl as a resounded chant of "Yes!" began.
"Do you accept the resignation of all the liars? All the corrupt?"
The chants grew louder and more passionate.
Blake finally turned away from the screen, his attention now on Gordon, who had not turned away from the screen.
"These men, locked up in Blackgate for eight years, denied parole under the Dent Act based on a lie?" he asked in disbelief.
Gordon was one of the few good guys the city had left. Blake's belief in the system shaken to its core.
"A lie to keep a city from burning to the ground," Gordon explained. "Gotham needed a hero. Someone to believe in –"
"Not as much as it does now," Blake spat back. "But you betrayed everything you stood for."
"There's a point, far out there, when the structures fail you," Gordon defended his actions as he finally turned away from the screen to look at the young detective he had taken under his wing. "When the rules aren't weapons anymore, they're shackles, letting the bad get ahead. Maybe one day you'll have such a moment of crisis. And in that moment, I hope you have a friend like I did to plunge their hands into the filth so you can keep yours clean."
"Your hands look pretty filthy to me, Commissioner." Blake turned away, returning to the kitchen table and his packing, leaving Gordon only to stare at his back.
"I have that type of friend," Blake continued, not turning around. "I'll be damned if I let her rot in the sewers because of the mess you made."
Cassidy groggily opened her eyes though she wasn't so sure that she did. It was pitch black. Even after blinking and adjusting to her new surroundings, she couldn't see her own hand in front of her face. She fumbled in the dark for her flashlight but came up empty handed.
It must have jarred from her grip during the commotion as the explosions went off.
Explosions.
Everything before the darkness came rushing back to Cassidy. Bane wanted them to flood the sewers, and they did. They played into his plan perfectly. How could they have been so stupid?
He rigged the sewers with explosions to trap them all underground. With those sworn to protect the city safely locked away in an underground prison, Bane was free to dish out his own brand of justice onto the city.
Cassidy feared what was going on above her.
A throbbing pain overtook her. She carefully touched the back of her head, hissing in pain as she did. When she pulled her hand back, she was meet with blood. It had mostly clotted. She had been out for some time, and Cassidy wouldn't be surprised if a concussion came along with the splitting wound.
Cassidy pulled herself up, her head spinning as she did. As he tried to move, the pain in her left ankle lurched her back to the ground. She reached down to inspect her foot. It didn't feel broken but sprained by likely the falling debris.
Cassidy knew she was in no shape whatsoever to attempt to move any of the rock to reach her fallen squad. Even if she was in top form, she doubted she could move the heaviest pieces.
"Foley," she called in a hoarse voice into her earpiece. It had survived the chaos. "It's Williams. Do you read?"
She was met with only static.
"Foley! Do you copy?"
Nothing.
"Shit," she muttered as she pulled the equipment off her head, tossing it aside.
Cassidy's last chance of reaching help was her cell. She dug it out of her pocket. The screen was cracked, damaged by her tumble into the sewer.
No service.
She should have known this was not going to be easy.
"You're on your own, Cass," she gritted as she stood back up on her injured leg. "Get it together."
Cassidy blindly felt her way to the side of the sewer wall and began to move the only way she could – forward. She wasn't sure how long she had been unconscious, but Cassidy knew she wouldn't survive underground long with no food, water and with the injuries she sustained.
The going would be slow as she was handicapped by the dark and her leg, but she had to keep moving until she could find one of the openings the squadrons used to infiltrate the sewers or a manhole to climb back up to Gotham's streets.
She had to keep moving through the pain at least for the chance to find service for her cell. She could call Blake. He was one of the few cops that didn't fall into Bane's trapped.
"You had to be a hero today," Cassidy muttered to herself through the pain shooting through her leg as she fumbled along in the dark.
A laugh sounded in the dark.
It wasn't close, but it echoed throughout the sewers, making it impossible for Cassidy to pinpoint the direction of the source. It was so faint that she thought her mind was playing tricks on her.
It wouldn't be the first time Cassidy had imagined sounds. That haunting laugh plagued her for years after her release from the Joker's grasps.
Cassidy would have brushed it off as nothing, but it sounded again. It was a bit louder this time, and Cassidy's heart froze as the psychotic sound reached her ears.
"No," she whispered to herself.
It couldn't be him. He was locked away in Arkham. Blake had assured her it would be impossible for him ever to hurt her again, but he had escaped Arkham once before. It wouldn't be a stretch for it to happen again.
With every uniform cop underground, Bane releasing the wretched of Gotham back onto the streets would only make sense. Arkham would be an easy target now, but still.
Even if he had escaped, how in the hell did he know she was down here alone in the dark?
"Hello?" Cassidy called, feeling braver than she should have been. The head injury took out her better judgment. "Is anyone there?"
The echo laugh flooded the sewers again as if that was the most hysterical thing ever said in the world.
"Jack?"
The laughter suddenly stopped. That frightened Cassidy more than hearing the shrill noise. She suddenly realized how vulnerable and alone she was.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she was watched. She had the feeling that she suddenly wasn't alone in the abyss. Whether her mind was playing tricks on her or not, she couldn't say, but she almost could see dark eyes lurking in the dark, stalking its prey.
"Hello?" she called again, the laughter returned, but this time, it didn't echo throughout the sewers. The dark, slow, mocking laughter came feet away from her.