"Lucy"

I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to be conscious. Please, I thought, don't wake me up. Let me die.

"Lucy…"

"Leave me alone" I whispered in a raspy, dry voice.

I felt a delicate hand on my shoulder.

Opening my eyes slowly, I stared up in shock.

"...M-Mom?"

Her face was exactly as I remembered it; slender and pale with almond shaped eyes, sparkling like gold. Her long curly hair cascaded in locks down her back.

Tears formed behind my eyes.

"Am I dead?"

"No, sweetheart, you're not." she said, pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear.

"Why didn't you tell me… about my father?"

"There are some things I kept from you. Things that no one knew… not even Carmine. Things that I never wanted to tell you… to tell anyone." She wiped a few tears away from my cheek. "I needed to keep you safe."

"But I deserved to know-…" I said, forcing the words out before they were swallowed by sobs.

"Yes, you did baby, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

She leaned in to kiss my forehead, whispering an address into my ear:

"Santa Monica, California… PO Box 444… I love you, Lucy…"

"I miss you mom" I sobbed.

She vanished as quickly as she had appeared as I fell backwards.

Back into my body.

. . . .

I sat up quickly, startling everyone in the room.

Alfred had barely managed to save a tray of food he had been carrying to my bedside table. Lucious, who had dozed off in the corner of the room, immediately shot up. Beams of light were streaming into my guest bedroom at Wayne Manor.

"Lucy!" Alfred cried, placing the tray down quickly. John burst into the room as soon as he heard my name.

"Lucy!" he echoed, running to embrace me.

"I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry for all of this. Everything I've put you through-"

Letting me go, he looked into my eyes.

He looked tired, aged. Despite a minor headache and some dizziness, I felt clear headed and grounded… something I hadn't felt in quite some time.

"It's ok John. If it wasn't for you… I'd be in jail… or worse, dead."

Staring intensely into my eyes, a sense of relief washed over him. He embraced me again.

Behind Alfred and Lucious, I noticed Bruce Wayne standing idly in the doorway.

. . . . . . . . .

The physical and mental strain of the past two weeks had taken a toll on my body, mind and spirit. I had been out for a good 48 hours.

After a hearty breakfast, John filled me in on the last two days. Carmine Falcone was readmitted to the renovated Arkham Asylum. Although I could never forgive him for murdering my mother, John had been right, there was no coming back from murder- it would have destroyed me.

The Italian clubhouse was a burning pile of rubble. It had been a massacre that only heightened the Joker's infamy. My feelings towards him whiplashed between pure hatred and naive curiosity. He had taken my necklace… and I wanted it back.

Finally, Bruce Wayne was alive and well. After hearing the news about the Joker's return, he came out of hiding overseas. He was adamant John needed more training and agreed to do so under the pretense that John would follow his every rule and regulation. John gladly obliged.

Bruce made it clear to John, Alfred, Lucious and I that Batman would not be returning. If John's training was successful, he would be the next generation of the Batman.

. . . . . .

So after a few weeks back in the manor, I made the decision to leave Gotham for Santa Moncia. Whether it was a dream or an out of body experience, my mother had whispered very important words into my ear:

Santa Monica, California- PO box 444.

Every bone in my body told me to follow my gut. Whatever was in that mailbox was going to tell me about my real father.

So, on the first day of December, I made my way to the airport. I said my goodbyes to John, Bruce, Alfred and Lucious at the manor. Airport goodbyes weren't really my thing and I insisted on taking a taxi there.

Although John promised to call me often, I knew his feelings for me were holding him back from his training. I needed to draw some boundaries between him and I. My feelings around him were still unclear.

As I made my way past security, I took my backpack from the belt of the scanner. Slipping on my backpack and making my way to the gate, I was stopped by a security guard.

"Excuse me, miss…"

The man at the checkpoint handed me an unfamiliar envelope.

"This fell out of your bag…Your name is Lucy, right?"

I nodded, taking the envelope that was addressed to me.

Walking down the terminal, I stared blankly down at the letter. Written in red ink across the top of it was my first name.

The writing was rigid, violent and trailed by three dots. It looked as if it was deliberately stabbed onto the paper.

As I turned back around to look at the checkpoint guard, he had vanished. My heart sank. This letter didn't fall out of my bag. This was a delivery.

I made sure I was close enough to my terminal before I opened the letter. Out slipped a single polaroid photograph.

Analyzing the image, the camera flash had eliminated any detail in the background, as if taken in a very dim room. There was a gloved purple hand holding my mother's necklace.

Flipping the polaroid over, there was more red writing on the back.

"Miss you already. Come home soon. -J"

Of course he knew where I was, where I was going. He wanted me to know that he still had power over me… that he was still very much a part of my life.

I should have thrown out the envelope and picture… but it was the only thing I had left of my mother. Tucking it in my backpack, I gave the flight attendant my boarding pass.

As I walked down the aisle to my seat, I thought about a game my mother had taught me: how to read tarot cards. I felt like the Fool, the first card in the deck. It symbolized new beginnings, naivety, walking into the unknown and staying vigilant- lest you lose your way and fall. I pushed my bag under my seat, resisting the urge to look at the envelope once more.

As I peered out the window towards Gotham's skyline, I promised myself I wouldn't return until I had answers.