I went from one hospital to another. The police had been tipped off about my whereabouts by a note left outside police headquarters. Apparently it was written with my blood. I was rushed to the newly built Gotham Central and put in intensive care, regaining consciousness a few days later.
John was always by my side, stricken with guilt, upset with himself for putting me in a situation I wasn't ready for. Beyond that, what I sensed in him was an indescribable hatred towards the Joker. Without me having to say anything, John knew what had happened. The Joker's white makeup had been smeared all over my face. Red on my lips.
"Do you remember anything?" He asked, holding my hand.
I shook my head. "It's all a blur" I lied.
Apparently there was no sign of my batsuit… the Joker must have taken it with him. He wasn't ready yet to let everyone in on our little secret yet…
Days into my recovery I finally asked John about Halloween night. He relayed that a handful of policemen were killed at the Asylum. The remaining GCPD apprehended a good number of patients… but many were still loose in the city. He was working overtime as Nightwing.
About a week after the incident, I was taken out of ICU and put in a private hospital room to recover. My wounds were healing well and my thoughts were back towards finding my father.
On that day, John had visited for the afternoon, but had some business to attend to at the manor. He had brought me a few books to read and some sketch paper.
"I'll come back in a few hours. Try to sleep." he said, squeezing my hand. He got up to draw the shades and turn down the lights. Once finished, he kissed my forehead and closed the door behind him.
Since Halloween night, something had changed within me. I thought my sanity would recover along with my wounds, but I continued to feel over stimulated, crawling with excess energy. The Joker's kiss planted something within me that was there to stay. I had never experienced apathy and I craved the numbness that accompanied it.
I sat up in bed. I knew I couldn't go back to the manor after I recovered. I had put John, Alfred and the boys in danger. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy their presence… I just knew that from here on out I had to take care of things on my own. John would never understand my feelings for the Joker and my plans for my father. For him, killing was crossing the boundary into a criminal, dirty existence. It was the ultimate sin. For me, it was the only reason for my continued existence.
I heard a knock on the door.
"Ms. Falcone?"
As the door slowly opened, a gray haired man with a thick mustache to match peered into the room. It was Commissioner James Gordon. Jim for short.
"Oh, hello commissioner, please come in."
"Hello Ms. Falcone. I heard you were recovering well. I'm happy to hear that. If you don't mind, I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions."
I nodded as he pulled up a chair next to my bedside, adjusting himself on the seat and taking out a small notebook from the inner pocket of his jacket. He clicked his pen once.
"I know this is probably a lot for you, Ms. Falcone, but we want to make sure we find the Joker as soon as possible. You may hold some valuable information on his current whereabouts."
"What makes you think I know any of that?" I said defensively. His demeanor instantly shifted.
"Well, Ms. Falcone… first off, where were you on Halloween night?"
I realized very quickly that I was being interrogated. Had John known about this? Why wouldn't he have warned me? I cursed inwardly, knowing I had to cough out some answers quickly.
"Well…" I began. He was looking intently at me. "I was in the narrows getting some more of my stuff from my old apartment… I went alone because I didn't want to bother John- he was working. When I was leaving the Narrows, a bunch of cars came flying by and one crashed just around the corner. That was when I saw my father leaving a van…"
Gordon was scribbling things down furiously.
"I… ran after him and he attacked me."
"Why did you run after him?"
"Because I wanted revenge… he- had my mother murdered when I was a teenager…"
Gordon was silent, lowering his pen and paper.
"I'm so sorry Lucy… I had no idea."
"No one does… and there's no evidence to back it up. He will probably never pay for what he did."
There was silence between us as I stared down at my hands. So far, I was telling partial truths. Now I had to think of some good lies.
"He stabbed me and left me to bleed out on the ground… I'm not sure how I ended up with the Joker. Maybe he was trying to use me as bait? I don't remember much after that… I had lost a lot of blood…"
"You're saying you don't remember him making… physical contact with you?"
I teared up, doing my best to act as uncomfortable as possible. I didn't want the commissioner catching on to any of my mixed feelings about the Joker.
"I'm sorry Ms. Falcone… I won't press you any further… my apologies."
He seemed satisfied with my answers for now and stood up from his seat.
"Thank you for your time. I know this must be very hard for you… and I promise we will get him. One way or another. And if you remember anything-"
"I'll let you know" I finished for him.
He nodded and pocketed his notebook. Saying goodbye, he closed the hospital door. I sat in silence.
Maybe John didn't trust me. Did he assume that I would have sensed the Commissioner's interrogation coming? He could have just told me. It was unlike him to keep things from me… but I couldn't blame him for his suspicions. Things between us had changed since Halloween.
The visit from the commissioner was the sign I needed to get going as soon as possible. If I was under surveillance now, I knew I'd continue to be watched after I left the hospital. I needed to get out of her, despite how it would affect my standing with the commissioner… and with John.
Placing my bare feet on the cold linoleum floor, I walked delicately over to the windows, opening the blinds. Looking downward, I was 5 floors up. No fire escapes this time. And I definitely couldn't brave the cold in a flimsy hospital gown and no socks or shoes.
There was another knock on the door. Now what.
A petite nurse entered my room, pushing a cart with a tray of food.
"Oh, miss, you're up! How are you feeling? I brought dinner and just need to take your vitals."
"Oh, right. Of course," I said, walking over and sitting on the bed.
Looking her over, a terrible idea popped into my head. She was just my size.
Before long she was taking my pulse and writing down a few notes while beginning to make small talk.
"You know, with all that crazy stuff that's going on in Gotham right now, it sure is nice to know that there's another batman out there helping out."
The comment caught me off guard.
"You… you think so?"
"Oh yeah totally! I mean, I feel like the bad guys have a reason to be scared again. The police just don't cut it these days… they don't have that edge like Batman does…well, did… yanno? Or now this new guy… Nightwing."
"I suppose you're right."
"What do you think, Miss?"
I thought about it for a moment. Sure, what John was doing was noble. It wasn't that I disliked it, but I also didn't feel like I could be him. He had put me in a position that asked me to do a lot more than I was comfortable with.
"I- I think whoever he is… he's got a good heart. I just hope it doesn't backfire on him."
"Backfire?"
"Yeah… everyone has a weakness-"
"Well we are all human" she said, putting her supplies away.
Not the Joker. I thought. There was nothing human about him.
As she was stuffing her things back into the cart, I made a quick. As she was bending over, I quietly slipped down from my bed and slammed her head into the cart. She never saw it coming. Out like a light.
I quickly undressed her, switched my hospital gown with her medical scrubs and placed her in the bed. I figured she'd wake up anywhere between a few minutes to an hour. I had to sneak out before anyone noticed.
Opening the door, I quickly made my way to the end of the hallway and down 5 flights of stairs past a few unsuspecting nurses and visitors. Opening a side exit, a few nurses and doctors were on their smoke break as I walked past them nonchalantly. None of them seemed to care who I was or where I was going.
Luckily the scrubs I had stolen had a ten dollar bill and some change crumbled in the back pocket with a food receipt. I walked briskly across the street to a local pharmacy. With the money I bought some scissors and hair dye.
Here we go again with the hair dye.
Carrying my bag of purchased goods, I knew I had to get away from the center of Gotham. Eventually the hospital would find the unconscious nurse… or she would awaken in my hospital bed dazed and confused. Nightwing and the police wouldn't be far behind. My only shot for privacy was the Narrows.
Gotham seemed like a big city, but everything was fairly close together, and I had just enough money left for a bus ticket. I'd run back to my old apt to grab what was left of my wardrobe and figure out what to do next.
Stepping onto the bus, I got a few looks as I was far from properly dressed for this weather. Sitting down in an empty set of seats near the back of the bus, I glanced at my reflection in the window. Wind blown faded pink hair, gaunt, and paler than usual… I could have looked better.
After a few stops, a man came to sit down next to me.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked. I shook my head. He was an older black gentleman carrying a briefcase and a cane. I hoped to god he wouldn't try and spark a conversation.
"Lose your coat?"
Here we go.
"I forgot it at the office, I had an emergency at home…"
"Oh I'm sorry… I didn't mean to pry…" he said, staring down at his briefcase, looking genuinely empathetic. There was a time when I would have felt the same way as him.
The rest of the bus ride was silent. Finally, the man stood up to leave a few stops before mine. He hesitated at first, but then took off a scarf that was wrapped around him.
"Here, take this. My wife told me to get a new one anyways. You need it more than I do."
I was speechless.
Handing me the scarf, I couldn't protest. It was freezing.
"Thank you-" I said softly. I felt a tinge of sadness in my voice.
He nodded and walked towards the front of the bus, stepping off to pay the driver and walk towards wherever he called home.
I gulped down the urge to cry. Why did this sudden act of kindness break my heart? I really hadn't had a moment since Halloween to feel… anything.
When my stop came, I ran out as soon as I had paid the driver. Sprinting up the abandoned stairs of the building and into my old apartment, I slammed the door behind me. Sliding down against it, I let myself cry uncontrollably.
I did my best to clean myself up in the bathroom. My side hurt terribly, but luckily none of the stitches had come undone. There wasn't any hot water nor heat in the building, so I cut and dyed my hair in the cold.
Rinsing the dye out from what was left of my hair, I stared at the woman in the mirror. My beautiful hair was gone. The black pixie cut made my already pale face look ghostly. I had changed so much over just a few months. I barely recognized the face staring back at me.
Rummaging through my old room, I searched for any remaining makeup. From now on, I really had to blend - look semi decent. I also had to leave this apartment… as soon as possible.
The adrenaline I felt at the hospital had worn off after my long cry, and I was feeling somewhat human again.
Applying some old lipstick and eyeliner, I reached under my bed to retrieve the clothes I'd originally ran away in. I had purposefully left them behind, hoping to never look at them again. However, as luck had it, I hadn't thrown them away. And no one had stolen them.
Pulling out the fitted black dress and fur coat I had stuffed underneath my bed in a bag, the memories of the night I fled the mob came flooding back…
. . . . . . .
I was staring out the window of a black Cadillac, waiting for my cue to exit the car. We were idling outside a ritzy set of apartment buildings in the historic district of Gotham.
The leaves on the trees were beginning to turn. It wasn't sweltering today like it had been in early August. Flaunting this fur coat, I was grateful for that.
Today's assignment wasn't out of the ordinary. Anyone who owed the mob money and didn't pay got a house call of sorts. So here I was, playing femme fatale, to lure another unsuspecting man out of their safe havens and into the slaughterhouse.
Today's job was with a few guys I barely knew; one older Italian gentleman in the driver's seat and two younger rookies in the back. They would be taking down today's target.
"Lookin good as always, Lucy," said a man from the radio. He was one of the men closest to my father. A sleazeball... and of course one of my father's favorites. The improper comment meant that the other half of the team could see us. It meant we were in position and ready to move in.
I looked at the Italian man in the driver's seat who gave me a nod.
"Let's make this quick, we'll be right behind yah" he said in a raspy, italian-american accent. I nodded back and swiftly opened the car door.
The dress and coat I was wearing were a gift from the man waiting for me behind these set of doors. Tonight I would be the arm candy of a wealthy, foreign stock trader who had swindled a fair amount of money from the mob through the black market. From what I knew, he was blissfully unaware of the events that were to take place tonight .
Walking up the cobblestone steps, I adjusted the shoulder strap of my purse and repinned a strand of my long blonde hair that had fallen out of my updo. Then I buzzed in. A receptionist with a Chinese accent picked up the phone.
"Residence of Mr. Hu"
"Hello, I'm Michelle Clark - I'm here to see-"
"Yes just one moment Ms. Clark" she said curtly, as if she was expecting me.
After a few seconds, I heard the doors unlock. A large, muscular man greeted me at the door. I knew the drill. I handed him my purse and coat for inspection and he patted me down gently for any weapons. The asian bodyguards, I had noticed, were always very respectful of their clients' women.
After he was satisfied, he nodded and led me into a grand waiting room. Marble floors, rococo decor and beautiful pieces of china that must have been centuries old.
"Wait here, Ms. Clahk" the man said in broken English. I bowed my head in thanks.
Sitting down in a handcrafted, wooden chair by the door, I stared down in silence at my gloved arms. Another routine, another rouge. So far this wig wasn't too itchy.
Not long after being seated, I heard a pitter patter of little feet scuffling in from a door that had been left ajar. Slowly from behind the doorway, one pigtail followed by a set of two curious, glimmering, almond eyes, peeked into the hallway. A tiny girl, probably no more than three, walked curiously over towards me.
I was caught off guard. She was so joyful and full of life. Giggling, she went straight for my fur jacket.
"xiǎo māo" she said in a squeaky voice, petting my black fur coat like a cat.
I couldn't help but lose myself for a moment in her innocence.
"Bùshì xiǎo māo, shì pí dàyī" I said back, smiling, in my broken Mandarin.
"Liling, Nǐ zài nǎlǐ?" A voice came from the open door. Out walked my date. For a 30 something year old businessman, Yìchén Hu was quite attractive. I had met him once before at an auction. My "chance" encounter with him obviously made a good impression, because here I was.
"Liling!" he said in an English accent, "please come and finish your dinner". It was a firm, but kind, request.
"Bàba! Hǎo ba!" She ran over to him, hugging his leg briefly and disappearing back behind the door.
"I apologize," Hu said to me, gleaming at my outfit. "My daughter is very curious."
I shook my head and smiled, "No apologies necessary. I was the same when I was her age."
He smiled and held out his hand. I obliged, lending him my gloved hand. He kissed it gently.
"You look very beautiful this evening, Ms. Clark."
"Michelle… please. And thank you Mr. Hu."
"Yichen" He corrected, smiling.
I felt sorry for him. He was going to leave such a beautiful girl behind. It tugged on heartstrings.
As he put a summer coat over his expensive tuxedo, we headed back down the steps and into one of his private cars waiting for us outside. By that time our two cars had pulled away and were already heading towards the next location. Tonight we were to go to an Opera.
On the ride there we made small talk. He was a gentleman, not something you usually see among the wealthy in Gotham. I wondered why he had stolen from the mob in the first place… why would he get his hands dirty just to endanger his family? I kept thinking back to his daughter. How her life would never be the same.
My far away look gave me away.
"Is there anything bothering you?"
He was so genuine. I was trying my best to stay in character… I needed to stay focused.
I shook my head and smiled.
The plan was simple. As soon as we were settled into our balcony seats, I would distract his bodyguards long enough for one of our men to take a clean shot at Mr. Hu from the rafters. Hopefully, by then I would be retreating back to one of our getaway cars. Hopefully.
As we entered the Opera House and up the stairs, my anxiety about his daughter only got worse. I hadn't been in a situation like this where I had felt such empathy and attraction towards a potential target. I needed to find a moment to collect myself before the show began.
"I'm going to use the ladies room before the show" I said softly, meeting his eyes again and feeling that ping in my heart.
He nodded and offered a bodyguard. I graciously declined and told him I would meet him at our seats.
As soon as he and his men were out of sight, I walked into a side hallway and exhaled.
This was going to be harder than I thought. Did I even want to go through with this? Something was telling me to hold back.
Maybe it was pure luck that I had stepped into that particular hallway, because I noticed the two rookies from my car ride entering the opera house from a side entrance. They were in mid conversation as I slipped behind a niche housing one of the romanesque sculptures lining the hallway. They'd be wondering why I wasn't with Mr. Hu and I couldn't let them see how emotionally attached I had become.
"...I don't get why both of them have to go," said one to the other as they walked through the hallway.
"Bosses orders" said the other one curtly. The other one sighed as they turned a corner.
"Too bad… She's a cutie too."
My stomach dropped.
They were killing two birds with one stone.
I wasn't there to do the job… I was the job.
I could only assume that my father had given the order. I wish I could say I was shocked, but I figured he would want me dead eventually. Like my mother, I was a liability. Like my mother, I had the insight. Though he didn't know it for sure, it was clear that he didn't want to take any chances with me. To him, I was better off dead.
As soon as I knew they were long gone, I walked briskly down the hallway towards the main entrance. I'd have to make a run for it and plan my father's demise from afar.
Remembering Liling's smiling face as she hugged her father, I cursed., I couldn't abandon them. Stopping halfway down the grand staircase, I made up my mind… 'this last good deed, then I'm out'.
Turning, I made my way back up the stairs to our balcony seats. My heart pounded. I hoped I had enough time to warn Mr. Hu and get the hell out of there.
His two body guards at the door saw me coming and patted me down again, finally letting me back in.
"Ah, Michelle. I was beginning to wonder where-"
"We don't have much time," I interrupted, pulling him close to me. "The mob sent men here to kill you. They know about the stolen money and they want payment… in blood. You need to leave."
Hu's eyes widened and then eyed me curiously.
"You work for them…"
"Not anymore... Take care of your daughter. I don't want her to lose her parent…. like I lost mine."
Before I could turn to leave, he grabbed onto my arm.
"I should have you killed… but because of your kindness, I will spare your life. Tell me where the snipers are and I will escort you out-"
Suddenly shots began firing from a balcony on the other side of the concert hall. I ducked as his two bodyguards were instantly at our side, pulling us from the balcony and into the hallway. Screaming erupted around the opera house as they began to fire back at the hitmen.
As soon as Yi'chen and I were in the hallway, I realized his shoulder had been hit.
"You need to leave out the main entrance" I said, as I helped guide him towards the front staircase. "Lose yourself in the crowd. They won't shoot civilians" I said.
"Come with me" he grunted, holding his shoulder.
I shook my head.
"You weren't the only person they were planning to kill tonight. I need to disappear… I'm sorry I lied to you."
He smiled and handed me something from inside his jacket. A pistol.
"I hope we can meet again someday- under better circumstances. Good luck to you."
I nodded in thanks, taking the gun. Without looking back, I ran.
. . . . . . .
Holding the dress and coat in my hands, I thought back to Liling and Yi'chen. I hoped they were both safe. Somewhere, somehow.
As for me, I was picking up where I last left off.
But this time, I was no longer afraid. I had to finish what I had started. I had to carry out what I had longed to do since the night my mother died.
No matter what it took, I had to kill my father.
