** trigger warning - expect some violence, cursing and gore **
(One Week Later)
After discovering the bat cave, John Blake was adamant that Bruce Wayne was still alive. Now that vigilantism was just as much a part of Gotham as the criminals themselves, John knew Batman would have to come back to defend his city. With the explosion of self made criminals with extraordinarily dark and dangerous ways of creating havoc, this was only the beginning of a new wave of crime.
However, since Bruce Wayne's disappearance, John had retired from the police force. Commissioner Gordon had reorganized the police force and done his best to clean up the political sphere. It had been a year since the bomb had exploded miles off the coast of the city and Gotham's crime rates had dropped to an all time low… Everything was settling, improving and the economy was making progress.
Left with the deed to Wayne Manor, John had focused much of his time and attention on transforming the property into a school for orphan boys. To his surprise, Alfred offered to move back in to assist as well.
As an orphan himself, John wanted to give back and continue to support the Wayne foundation that funded his schooling as a child. It gave him a sense of satisfaction to know that he could help hundreds of boys receive clean clothing, good food, and a safe environment for learning.
Life was looking up. Until a few days ago.
John received a call from the commissioner before the information was made public.
"He escaped?" His heart sank.
"Details aren't clear yet. We're still working on the crime scene, but he had connections on the inside."
For a moment, there was a strained silence on both ends.
"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help."
"Protect the boys. Just wanted to keep you in the loop - stay safe."
The conversation was short, but John knew what was coming next. His renovations of the batcave had been an intuitive move on his part. But he never expected to become the next Gotham vigilante this soon.
He wouldn't be anything short of Batman. He knew there was no competition, and no need for any. What he could be was malleable; a force above the law that could make sacrifices for the city. Even the biggest of sacrifices, if need be. John was certainly willing to do that, as he had put his life on the line for the city many times before as an officer.
When the Joker's escape from Arkham was finally made public, the newest Mayor did what he could to assure the public that the situation was under control. But, of course, the people protested for Batman. They yearned for their masked crusader to return. Despite the resilience of Commissioner Gordon, public trust in the police was shaky at best.. Sure the police could handle organized crime, now. But what about this new class of criminals? The crazy kind?
Some men just want to watch the world burn.
As the days passed at the charter school, John did his best to hide his concerns from the students and staff. During the day he would survey the grounds, check up on students, work on schedules, file reports and keep an eye on the news. At night he would train.
His only reprieve was his early morning walk on the beach. He would trace the outskirts of Wayne manor, immersing himself in solitude, connecting with the natural flow of the waves rolling in and out.
On one particular gray morning, John found himself watching a pack of seagulls circling loudly over the incoming waves. At first he found this quite odd as he watched the birds dip closer to a piece of driftwood close to the shoreline. It wasn't like seagulls to be looking for food along the shore during a high tide… Unless something dead had washed ashore.
Keeping an eye on the birds as the driftwood crashed onto the beach, he thought he saw something small detach from behind it. His heart lurched as he heard a small cry.
As the seagulls scattered in surprise, John sprinted towards the wreckage to find a young woman clinging to life.
I'm not sure how I managed to survive my trip from the harbor, to the open ocean, to the shores of Wayne Manor. I remember coughing up a lot of water. Palms pressing on my chest, lips on mine. If I hadn't hung onto that piece of driftwood and forced myself to stay conscious in those frigid waters, I knew I wouldn't have made it. My gunshot wound was still bleeding despite my makeshift tourniquet.
After emptying water from my lungs onto the sand, I looked up at my rescuer.
He was a very attractive man in his early 30's. Muscular, slick brown hair, deep brown eyes. If there hadn't been so little blood in my body I would have been blushing profusely. As soon as I was breathing normally, I vaguely remember him carrying me into the manor through a back entrance. He was yelling for an older man to fetch a first aid kit.
"Hey, you doing ok? What's your name? We need to get you to the hospital." The young man's voice was firm but gentle.
"Please, no.." I managed, shaking my head. "I-It's not safe… for me."
After laying me on an expensive looking couch somewhere within the manor, he inspected me closely. I assumed he was assessing my mental state. Since my encounter with the Joker, I had cut my long brown hair, bleached it haphazardly, dyed it a pastel shade of pink. I didn't want anyone to know who I was anymore. I didn't want to be seen as a Falcone. I wanted to be a nobody. I probably looked like nobody… that, or all kinds of crazy.
"What's your name?" He asked softly, crouching by my side. At first I didn't answer. He slowly criss-crossed his legs, meeting me at eye level. "My name is John... John Blake. You're at the Wayne Charter School For Boys. I promise you're safe here. You don't have to worry about anything happening to you. But please… tell me your name."
I hesitated, but I knew the only way to avoid going to the hospital would be to get his attention… and to keep it.
"Lucy," I responded. "Lucy Falcone.. The daughter of the former mob boss, Carmine Falcone."
The story I recalled for John did not include meeting the Joker. I wasn't sure if I was terrified of the Joker finding out or worried about losing my safety net.
I told John that I had been hiding out from the mob, running away from my past. I didn't want to be a part of that lifestyle anymore. I didn't want to end up dead or in Arkham like my father. My streak of luck ran out the night before, when I hoped to meet some of my old friends at a local bar. Exchanging money for a fake ID, I was hoping they would be able to smuggle me out of the city. Protection from the Joker or not, Gotham was the worst place I could be. I couldn't stay.
I had made my way to The Lucky Dog using back alleys, weaving in and out of the shadows. I knew the area well, and I knew it was a comfortable distance away from where the mob liked to do business. Opening the well worn red doors, it was darker and dingier than I had remembered it being. Multi-colored lights were pulsing to loud dance music as a younger crowd packed a makeshift dance floor. Instant anxiety. I took a deep breath and made my way towards our old meeting spot.
They were there alright.
Derek and Skylar embraced me with warm hugs. Derek and Sky had dated back in the day and despite not working out, had remained very close friends. Both of them worked in the service industry from what I remembered and had some friends with black market connections. We chatted lightly for a bit before I asked them about the ID. They asked about the money and I assured them I had it. They showed me the ID and after I was satisfied, I led them out a side door to make the deal in private.
That was when I started to tell John about a censored version of the night's events:
Sky and Derek had tipped off the mob about my whereabouts, who offered them much more money than I ever could have ever managed. When we went to do the transaction outside of the bar, that's when some of my father's men showed up and tried to take me.
I did my best to fight them off, eventually breaking free. They chased me through back alleys and over fences until I couldn't run anymore. I ended up at the peers of Gotham harbor. I had no choice but to jump into the freezing waters in hopes I could swim away.
Luckily I was able to make it to a piece of driftwood and hide behind it until they were satisfied I was not coming back up for air. Unfortunately I had been hit in the shoulder by a stray bullet as they were firing into the water. Wrapping my wet scarf around my wound as a tourniquet, I drifted as far as I could away from the center of the city, towards a far off lighthouse. I barely made it out alive.
I felt the slightest bit guilty about hiding all the details. His eyes were so warm and empathetic. He was relieved to see me alive.
But what really happened would have set off a lot of red flags.
"By the way, I love the new look, Lucy, " Skylar said smiling, pulling a cigarette from her pack. "Pink looks good on you."
I rolled my eyes and smiled. "Thanks Sky. I wish it was a fashion statement not an identity crisis." She lit the cigarette and eyed Derek who was busy eyeing some scantily dressed girls twerking on the dancefloor. "Follow me," I said, "we can make the exchange outside. This place is giving me PTSD from high school…" We stood from our seats, heading for a side entrance.
As Skylar and Derek followed me outside into a back alleyway, I was relieved at the amount of space, fresh air and silence there was in comparison to the club.
I heard a gun cock from behind me. My heart sank.
"I'm sorry Lucy, money is tight right now. They offered us way more…" Derek had said. It almost sounded apologetic, though it was beyond forgiveness.
Black Buicks blocked the exit to the alley. I saw a few familiar faces emerging from the cars.
"Gigs up, Lucille." Said one of them in a heavy city accent. I shook my head. I knew what would happen if they took me back. Death would be better.
Derek grabbed onto my arms before I had a chance to run. I struggled to free myself without much success. That's when I heard a machine gun fire in the distance. There was a lot of screaming as a few onlookers ran from the club. The men around me looked as startled as I did.
Quickly, men in clown masks emerged from behind the parked Buicks, firing violently into the sky.
"It's the Joker!" I heard one of them yell. Caught off guard, the mobsters hid behind whatever they could find as the two groups exchanged gunfire. Catching Derek off guard, I slipped my hand away from his and punched him square in the nose. Cursing, he held his nose while using his other hand to deliver a swift elbow to my chest, releasing all the air from my lungs. Barely catching myself from falling, I aimed to kick him in the shins but missed the area entirely, my foot landing instead between his legs. As Derek keeled over, Skylar tried her best to block me from entering back into the club. I shoved her against the door, hard. Banging her head against heavy metal, she fell dazed to the ground.
I made my way back inside, holding my bruised chest as I weaved through the panicked crowd, searching for another way out. I hid under an abandoned table just in time to see a path forming through the remaining club goers.
"Ohhh Luucccyyyyyy…" sang a voice from the parting sea of drunken panic.
Machine gun in hand, there he was.
I froze in place.
Before I could form an escape plan, his thugs grabbed my arms from under the table and dragged me towards him.
He held out a free glove, the other with the trigger still on his machine gun, beckoning me to take it.
"Why are you doing this?" I yelled as his thugs pushed me towards him.
"I'm a man of my word, dollface. Didn't think I'd let someone else sell you to the mob, did ya?"
I screamed as he grabbed my arm and threw me over his shoulders with such ease that I felt like a sack of feathers.
"Okay boys, that'll do! Light it up!"
His loud bursts of high pitched laughter sent shockwaves through my body. I thought back to the memories that had flooded my head of his childhood. All the blood.
I could have sworn he was skipping as he made his way out of the club. I could smell gasoline as I heard the rusty hinges of a van's doors open. He stuffed me in quickly, winking as he shut the doors in my face.
I tried desperately to open the van doors, but they were locked from the outside. Cursing, I pounded on the doors hard. After a few moments they suddenly swung open. Assuming it was the Joker, I took a few steps backwards.
I was a familiar face, but not the Jokers. He pointed his gun at me.
"Time to go Luc-" Derek began, but was quickly shot down as a cascade of bullets ripped into his side. I let out an involuntary scream as his blood soaked my face. I made the split decision to run.
Through the chaos, I ran as fast as I could down a side street. Before long I could see the end of the road. I was met with the stench of rotting fish as I reached a fenced-in dock area. No boats, no cover. The Gotham Harbor. The end.
"Lucy!" Yelled a voice from behind me. I jumped as Skylar stubbled from the shadows, holding a gun. I could see blood dripping from her head as she aimed it at me with a shaky hand.
"What the fuck are you doing, Sky?! When did you get to be this way? I thought we were friends?!"
I felt my feet reach the end of the dock. The rotting wood was slippery and fragile.
"You're mob trash, Lucy. Dirty laundry." she spat, "Derek left me because of you, did you know that? I always pretended to like you, but you're just a stuck up slut. I don't care about the money anymore. I just want you out of my life, bitch!"
I saw her pull the trigger, but I heard way more gunfire than the one shot that I felt. As I felt the pressure of the bullet hitting my shoulder, I fell backwards into the icty water. The last image I registered was her brains splattered on the pavement as a man in a purple suit emerging from the alley behind her.
I heard the muffled sound of gunshots as I was swept under by a violent tide. The current quickly pulled me out of the harbor and into the bay.
Was I nothing but mob trash? As I closed my eyes, I felt the urge to gasp under the frigid seawater.
Swim, Lucy. Swim. Don't give up. Not now. I heard a soft voice whisper to me.
I let out the last precious breath of my air from my lungs but fought the urge to sink.
Swim, Lucy. Swim up, my darling daughter.
Grunting, I fought the current towards the surface. As I broke through the water, gasping for air and kicking hard to stay afloat. I managed to find a piece of driftwood floating nearby. Realizing I was shaking violently from shock and blood loss, I tied my scarf around the bullet wound like a tourniquet and began to weep uncontrollably.
…
After I was finished lying about last night's events, John passed me a cup of herbal tea. It tasted terrible but he assured me it would help combat any infection.
"Thank you for saving me," I ended. Taking another sip of the warm tea.
I wrapped the blanket tighter around me, feeling dazed. John had removed the bullet from my shoulder and bandaged it while the older gentlemen assured me it would heal in time. The older man's name, I came to find out, was Alfred. Alfred Pennyworth. Bruce Wayne's retired butler.
Derek screamed as he received another blow to the stomach.
"Please! I've told you everything I know!" he whimpered. Tied up and raised to meet the eyes of his captors, tears ran down his face as he let out stifled sobs. He should've been dead already, he thought, why did he have to endure this?
The thugs were relentless. It was only when the sound of footsteps were heard that the beating ceased. A face with freshly applied clown makeup skipped merrily towards him.
"Derek, Derek, Derek…. Not a very nice way to treat your friend Lucy…" The Joker said, surveying his hanging body only to begin swinging it back and forth playfully.
"Do you want to know how I got my scars?" the Joker sang, pushing Derek back and forth like he was on a swing set. "You see, my father didn't like things being out of place… I hated that about my father… aaaalways such a stickler for his possessionssss!" The swinging lessened as the Joker pulled out a knife from his suit pocket. Derek groaned as he felt it's point pierce his already shredded side.
"One rainy day, I decided I wanted to play with a tiny ship my father had built on one of his top shelves… you know, of those tacky antique pieces. He had been a navy guy in the war, he had liked boats, you see… before the DRINK got to him."
The Joker stopped swinging his body, to hold Derek's mouth open with the knife, humming the Jack-in-the-box song under his breath.
"When he came home from the bar and saw that it was missing… Do you know what he did?"
Derek was now shaking uncontrollably as the Joker was wedging the knife further inside one of his cheeks.
"He didn't like that. Not one bit. He said, 'son', holding the knife up to me just like this, 'why can't you make your own fun?' I hated my father, but he taught me one very important lesson…" with that he slashed the knife across Derek's cheeks, revealing the gaping insides of his mouth. "Trying to satisfy one's desires with possessions… is like putting out a fire with straw".
