If life is a story, than it should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. But the life of something as large and as old as Gotham City, is too long, too winding, changing too often to ever really end.
Selina Kyle looked out from atop one of the tallest buildings still standing after the devastation that The Joker had wrought on the city. Though it hadn’t just been the Joker, she realized, but Ra’s Ah Guhl as well. Maybe even more so. Alfred had filled her in on everything after the small service. She had been surprised that the English Butler had asked her to attend, but was also honored. She just wished there had been more time…
Donning her mask, Catwoman leapt off the building and into the smoky night air. Dust and ash still hung over the city like a cloud of mourning. She grabbed onto a flag pole and swung her body around it twice before propelling herself off and onto the dark street below. She not only landed gracefully, but without so much as a click of a heel. The street was deserted, save for a few unsavory men who were coming out of the jewelry shop that she had been casing for over a week; a week before Gotham City came tumbling down, that was.
“Oh boys, you don’t really think you’re going to take everything that I’ve had my eyes on for over a month now, do you?”
They jumped, turning towards the sound of her voice, all of them holding cloth bags that were bulging from their take.
“Hey, isn’t that the cat broad?” One of them chuckled.
“Yeah, little alley cat has lost her way.”
“And her marbles,” the third one chimed in, giving the three of them a good laugh.
The first guy heard the crack before he actually felt it, the horrible stinging sensation in his hand. He looked down to see that his black glove had been torn open and a rather large gash was beginning to seep blood.
“Why you little…”
He didn’t have time to finish the words; there was another snap as a deep cut appeared across his right cheek, and this time he felt it first. He dropped his bag and cried out in pain, reaching for his injured face.
The other two snarled at Catwoman as they advanced, but she immediately did several cartwheels, ending up between them. When she stopped, she was in a crouching position out of range of their fists, giving her enough time to swing her left leg out and trip the one to her right. As he fell, she snatched the bag out of his hand, bringing it around and catching the guy on her left in the side of the face with it. He fell back, stunned.
The first man swore and ran toward her, but Catwoman was still holding the bag. His head snapped to the left as she gave it a whack, and she gave him no time to recover before bringing the bag down on top of his head. She finished him off with a kick that shattered his nose and dropped him.
Catwoman turned to the other two, both still stumbling around, but now the cockiness had left them, replaced with eyes full of fear. She smiled seductively, reached for her whip, and motioned with her index finger to approach. The last bag fell fast onto the street as they took off running.
“Amateurs,” She chuckled as she gathered all three bags, stepping right on the chest of the one that lay there unconscious.
Digging through the bags, she retrieved several very expensive pieces and then tossed the rest back through the shattered window. This had been all she had wanted.
She heard sirens in the distance, but knew they were not coming in her direction. Even under martial law, there was too much chaos for anyone to focus on a petty jewel heist. Easy pickings, she thought.
As she walked down the street, she nearly stumbled over a homeless woman lying next to a mailbox. The woman was dozing, but jerked awake when Selina’s boot grazed her nearly shredded shoe.
“Getta way,” she practically barked, her dull lifeless eyes staring straight at the leather clad figure.
“Sorry, sister.” Catwoman mumbled as she walked by. She had gone several feet before she stopped.
Damn him, she said to herself as the vision of his face appeared in the front of her mind.
Damn him all to hell!Selina turned with a frustrated sigh, walking back to the old woman. The bag lady looked up at her warily, pushing her body as far against the mailbox as she could.
“Oh stop that,” Catwoman said gently, but with a motherly sternness in her voice. “I’m not here to harm you. Believe me, you have nothing I want. Here, take these. Consider them a donation, in lieu of flowers.”
The elderly woman sat stunned as the diamond necklace and earrings fell into her lap. Her jaw actually fell open as the woman with the whip stood up, gave her a pained-looking smile, then took off down an alley.
Catwoman left empty handed, grabbing the bottom of a fire escape, climbing up it and back towards the roof. Not tonight, she thought to herself. It just didn’t feel right.
“
Damn you, Bruce!” She yelled out loud as she cleared the roof and began running.
*****
“Wow, he’s really gone,” Bullock stated at the small group sitting in one of the many meeting rooms of City Hall.
“He died the way he would have wanted to,” Crispus Allen said. “He died saving his city.”
There was a loud bang as a fist landed on the meeting room table. The small group of officers and detectives jumped at Commissioner Gordon’s sudden outburst.
“It wasn’t his city!” He exclaimed. “It’s our city.”
It’s my city. It always was… since I took this position, and he helped bring it to its knees. The sudden thought shamed him, and the looks from his people didn’t help matters.
Detective Montoya broke the uncomfortable silence, “With all due respect, Sir, the city belonged to us and to him, and to everyone else that works everyday to make it a better place.”
God I could use a drink, Gordon thought as he took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes wearily. “I know, Detective… I know. And it’s up to us to see that Gotham rises again, for her people’s sake.”
“… And for
him” Renee added softly, saying what the Commissioner was thinking.
“So, whatta we do next, boss?” Bullock asked.
That was the question that had been eating away at James Gordon since the last of the ninjas had disappeared. He gazed out the window, noting the huge pile of rubble at the end of the street. His eyes roamed around the immediate area, and the huge amounts of blood that had been spilled during the battle to protect City Hall.
“Harvey Dent,” he said. “We go after Harvey, and then Black Mask.”
Deputy Commissioner Sarah Essen had been sitting quietly during their meeting. She cleared her throat to get their attention. “And what about The Joker?”
Everyone shifted uneasily, glancing at their shoes or the wall, anywhere but at each other.
Jim couldn’t blame them. Of all the lunatics that Gotham seemed to house, The Joker was the one that everyone feared, and up until a now, was the one that everyone let Batman take care of without any complaints. But those days were gone now.
“I’m not sure Joker is even in town anymore. When he does something this big, usually he skips town for a while. Lets things cool off before he comes back for another round.”
“You think he split then?” Detective Allen asked his superior.
Gordon nodded. “I do. If he hasn’t, we’ll hear from him soon. Even though Joker’s the most dangerous one out there, the other two are more immediate dangers. They’ll probably try to use this destruction as leverage, and without…
him to keep them in line, it’s up to us to bring them in.”
“Where do you want us to start?” Bullock asked.
“Start with the usual haunts, see what you can dig up. We focus on them one at a time. We start with Harvey. Tell every officer that he is to be taken in alive and relatively unharmed. He may have done it for his own selfish reasons, but he still helped us save this city, and we owe him that much.”
All except Bullock nodded in agreement and walked out quietly. Commissioner Gordon watched them leave.
Damn you! Damn you for leaving us this mess!*****
The door to the opulent apartment opened. A small man in his mid-thirties entered, rather timidly. The four men gathered around the table stared at him, causing him to swallow hard. Even with the good news he had for them, these men still made him nervous. They had been the cream of the crop, and a few of them had actually been dead, but here they were, as if it had never happened.
“It better be good,” Carmine Falcone growled at him.
“It is. Our source in the department says that it’s official; both Batman and Ra’s Ah Ghul fell to their deaths during the storm. They’re gone.”
Rupert Thorne and Boss Maroni slapped each other on the back while a wheelchair bound Penguin squawked with glee.
“Are they saying who Batman was?” Falcone asked.
“No, they ain’t got no idea. Both bodies were washed away.”
The long cigarette holder drooped in Penguin’s mouth. “No bodies? Then they are not dead, you imbecile.”
“But, they found Batman’s cowl and cape on top of the damn. Nobody could have survived that fall, and with everythin’ that’s been going on in the city, no way Batman would be alive and not doin’ somethin’ to help.”
Momentary silence as they considered that.
“He’s got a point,” Maroni said, looking at Carmine.
“Yeah, on the top of his head.”
“Still…” Thorne started.
“Alright, alright,” Falcone relented. “We go on the assumption that he’s dead. We knew he couldn’t last forever, anyways. So the first thing we do is reclaim our territories. It’s going to take some doing, and we’ll probably have to lay low for a while, until the damn government gets out of our yard. But we start making plans. This time we do it right. We get rid of the two freaks and then we run this town together. That way we don’t screw it up… like last time.”
Boss Maroni nodded, “Agreed, four houses, four
families. Still, it makes sense that one family heads this up. Question is, which one of us do the rest trust enough to keep things fair and even like.”
The room grew quiet as they looked at each other, sizing the others up. Finally Penguin piped up. “Well, I do believe that since I was the only one to manage not to die and have to be brought back to life by that dreadful Ghul fellow, it would make me the most logical candidate.”
They all looked at him before breaking into laughter. Thorne slapped Cobblepot on the leg. “Sure, yeah, you’re the one we trust the most. You sided with the bat during this whole thing. You’re lucky we invited you.”
“Hell, you’re lucky you’re still alive,” Maroni chimed in.
“Well… most of you.” Falcone belted out, and they all broke into another round of
laughter, while Oswald Cobblepot smiled. He’d let them get their digs in. Poor crippled Penguin. Couldn’t fly, you know. Yes, he’d just give it some time, he thought as he continued to wiggle his toes in his expensive and rather comfortable shoes.
*****
Wayne Manor stood silent. Only two lights were on, and they were both coming from the small kitchen that the team had always used.
They sat around the small handcrafted table that Martha Wayne had found years ago in a Bavarian shop on her honeymoon. It had sentimental value to Alfred, and he had made sure that the wood was well maintained.
Dick, Tim, and Alfred sat around the table, cups of tea in their hands. The three of them had talked well into the night, wondering if they would ever sleep again. Finally, without even a goodnight, Dick got up and left the room.
“Should we…?”
Alfred shook his head, cutting off Tim’s question. Nodding with understanding, the young man also got up, placing his hand on Alfred’s shoulder for a moment before he, too, retired.
Alone, Alfred sat at the antique table for a while, brushing his fingers against the wood. Lost in his memories. Finally he stood up and collected the three cups, carrying them to the sink.
One began to slip from his grasp. He grabbed for it, losing hold of the second one and watching the two of them fall to the floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces. He stared at the mess, seeing it for what it was. He slowly opened up his other hand, allowing the final cup to slide away from him and join the other two.
Was I wrong? Should I have spent all those years playing more the role of a parent then a servant? Would you still be with us if I had…?He stopped in mid-thought. He couldn’t finish it. He suddenly found himself exhausted. too tired to even retire to his own room. Instead, he walked through the broken china, hearing it crunch under his shoes, and sat back down at the table. He lay his head down and quietly wept, until sleep took over.
*****
Gordon and Bullock had been roaming the city in their car for nearly eight hours before the call came in. Dent had been spotted in Crime Alley, of all places. A bordello. Room two twenty-two. He had hired a pair of twins. Bullock rolled his eyes at the news.
“Surround the area, keep one at the front and one at the back. I want everyone else at least two blocks away. Be ready to move in, but do
nothing until I get there.”
He released the microphone and placed it back, noting Harvey’s stare.
“What?” Gordon asked, irritably.
“You’re going in after him, yourself, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
Jim refused to look at him, focusing on the road as he pressed down on the accelerator. “When Harvey Dent came to Gotham City, he was full of life, full of the confidence in the justice system that only the young and naïve can have…”
“… Or anyone who’s never lived in Gotham,” Bullock mumbled.
“I was the one to introduce him to Batman. I believed in Harvey Dent. For a while I thought that the three of us were going to finally do what no one else could— remove crime completely from this city. The three of us were going to be unbeatable.”
“Like that candy bar, Three Musketeers?”
“Something like that, I guess; but, that belief… that… determination… took a great deal from me. My wife and my son are gone, and so is a friend, no matter what his faults were.”
“So you need to save Dent? Some kind of personal mission, maybe?”
“Maybe…”
“I ain’t sure you’re thinking clearly. If I was you, I’d hang back on this one and let the rest of us take care of it.”
“Well you’re not, and I’m not. Harvey’s coming in alive, and I’m going to see to that.”
Bullock said nothing as the car careened towards Crime Alley.
*****
“That was nice,” Harvey Dent said. “And nasty,” He added.
Two ladies lay in the room, one on the bed with her hands tied and mouth gagged. She was bleeding from her nose, her right eye swelling up already. There was fear in her eyes, and she whimpered every once in a while. The other twin lay next to her sister, sipping on champagne and basking in the warm afterglow.
“What you smiling about, sweetheart?” he asked the one while taking a sip from her drink.
“Just glad that I got the good flip.”
Two-Face chuckled as he put his suit jacket back on, staring out the window. “Yeah, but you know she gets paid a lot more.”
“Sometimes it ain’t about the money, honey.”
He chuckled again, stopping when something caught his eye. It was a small movement from across the street, a side alley. It the dull street light hadn’t caught something shiny for a split second, he would have missed it entirely. Tilting his head a bit, he watched closely until he saw another small movement. He was sure… he’d been made.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“What’s wrong, sugar?”
“Nuttin but trouble,” He grumbled, his voice altering. He tossed several hundred dollars on the bed. “Don’t untie her until I’m gone, and stay in this room for a while. There’s a whole lotta bad about to come down.”
He pulled his gun out, checking the clip, then grabbed his cell phone and hit a number. It picked up before the first ring was over. “Get the boys down here now. We’ve got incoming!” He shut the phone off, nodded to the sisters, and left the room.
“Come on… Jimmy boy… come and get me!”
*****
Gordon and Bullock parked two blocks away, jogging down the streets, their open trenchcoats flapping behind them. When they reached the block they wanted, Gordon motioned for Bullock to stand down. He did so grudgingly.
“This is Gordon,” He spoke into his hand held unit. “Start bringing the men in, but slowly and quietly. If S.W.A.T. is here, tell them to take positions on this street, either side of the building, and three at the rear. Nobody goes in until I give the order. Radio silence from here on out.”
He ignored Harvey’s disapproving look and slowly made his way down the rest of the street, making sure to stay close against the walls of the building, trying desperately to stay away from the line of site from the brothel.
His eyes roamed the streets, finally seeing the officer in the alley across from him. Why wasn’t he back farther? Damn! Stupid rookie! Nothing he could do about it now, though.
He made his way to the old apartment building that had been made into a whorehouse, and as he crossed the narrow alley from the building next to his goal, the voice came from the darkness.
“Now this is how you hide in an alley, Jimmy boy.”
Gordon froze. Dent was waiting for him… that wasn’t good. His eyes darted to the rooftops on natural instinct, and he cursed himself for looking.
“Harvey, you need to come with me now, before this gets out of hand.” He turned slowly, making sure his gun was low, but his finger remained on the trigger.
Two-Face belted out a hearty laugh, “Out of hand? You’re kidding me, right? This entire city is ruined. The government has locked us down, and you don’t think things are out of hand yet? Love to know what
your definition is.”
“I don’t want to see this end with you getting hurt. Lower your weapon and let me take you back to Arkham, that’s all I want.”
“Don’t want me to get hurt?” He said, his voice beginning to rise. “Oh yeah, we wouldn’t want that to happen, would we? Guess what, old friend, it’s a little too late for that.”
Jim heard the shots from down the block, then the squealing of tires as two cars roared down the deserted street. There was a hail of bullets, several of them barely missing him, and he dove to the ground, coming up on one knee to fire at the first car. His aim was true and the one bullet went through the driver’s side window. James Gordon took off running as the driver slumped over the wheel, and the car went over the curb and smashed into a street light.
Through his ear piece, he heard Sarah give the order, “Move in! All units move in now!”
Just in time, he thought to himself. There was a reason he picked her as his deputy, and these moments reminded him that he had made the right choice.
Even with the gunfire all around him, he took a second to peek around the corner of the alley, before making his move. Dent was gone, just like he figured, but he hadn’t gone far, and he wasn’t getting away.
The Commissioner sprinted down the alley after him while the sound of more gunfire began to fade behind him. He kept his gun up, making sure that he was at the ready.
The alley made a sharp right to the back of the building and he made another quick peek around the corner. The alley was apparently empty, but he knew that it was impossible for Harvey to have made it all the way to the other end. There wouldn’t have been enough time. No, he was still very close. He examined the long, dank area, noting that there were no trash bins, or anything to actually hide behind. No recessed doorways, either. That could only mean one thing.
“Commissioner, what’s your twenty?” The voice of Harvey Bullock entered his earpiece. He could hear the tension in the voice, and knew that his friend was trying to find him. He couldn’t let him, though. This was between Dent and Gordon.
“Point of no return,” he replied and pulled out his earpiece, letting it fall to the ground. Dent had gone back inside the brothel. Probably heading for the roof— which hardly ever seemed like a good plan, but made the most likely chance for escape, if Harvey could make the jumps over the next few buildings.
“Damn,” he muttered as he kicked in the door, pointing his gun to his right and then his left. He heard the faint falling of footsteps climbing the emergency staircase, and he took off after them.
Four, five, six, seven, eight; he didn’t realize he had been mentally counting the floors until he reached the top. He stopped at the half opened door to catch his breath for just a second. The lock had been broken, which explained the loud banging sound when he had reached the sixth floor. Gordon was closing in.
He tumbled to the ground as he entered the rooftop, coming up with his gun, but Harvey Dent was not waiting for him; he was already on the next roof over and still running.
Jim took off, making a giant leap when he got to the edge of the bordello. He hit the neighboring roof hard, rolling with the fall and then coming up quickly. Two-Face was right ahead of him. Less then ten feet now.
Harvey must have heard him, because when he got to the edge of the next building he stopped, swung around suddenly, and fired a shot off. The Commissioner had no time to react. Luckily, the bullet whizzed by his head, barely missing him.
To Harvey’s surprise, Gordon didn’t slow down at all, but continued to run after him full tilt. Harvey let out a guttural roar of defiance, taking better aim as he began to squeeze the trigger.
“Don’t do it, Apollo!” Gordon cried out.
Apollo… the name struck him like a physical blow and Harvey hesitated just long enough. James Gordon braced himself as he barreled into his once trusted friend, grabbing him by the waist as he pushed off with his legs and sent them both hurtling through the air. Jim felt the gun drop from his grasp, falling the eight stories beneath them, as their bodies seemed to hang in mid-air between the two buildings.
Had it just been him, Gordon would have made the jump easily, but he was now carrying the weight of a nearly two hundred pound man. Together,, they cleared the small cavern, but struck the side of the roof. Jim’s reflexes kicked in and he grabbed the edge with one hand as he held Harvey with the other.
“Apollo…” was all Harvey said, whispering it to himself. His hand reached up and touched the scarred portion of his face.
“Little help here, Harvey!” Gordon shouted.
This seemed to break Dent out of his trance, and he looked down for a second before climbing up the building, using the old jutted bricks for small footholds. He was able to toss his gun over the edge and then pull himself away from the danger.
Jim dangled on the side, his feet slipping, but moving more easily now that the extra weight was gone. Then he felt a hand grab his wrist, and he looked up to see the half that still looked like Harvey Dent, staring down at him. He began to pull Gordon up.
When Jim made it to the roof, he collapsed, gasping for air. His closed eyes opened when he felt the cold metal of the gun jammed into his forehead.
“Didn’t want you to die that way, Jimmy boy; we get to do this our way. That Apollo bit was a low blow, by the way.”
“You were one of us. You were one of the good guys.” It was all Jim could think to say.
“Until it was all taken from me,” Dent hissed as he brought his face within an inch of Gordon’s. “This city tried to destroy me, but I beat it! I’m better off now than I ever was.”
Anger flowed through the Commissioner and he felt the adrenaline kick in. He came up with a head-butt, also sweeping his arm around to knock the gun away from Dent. Harvey fell back, stunned, and Jim gave him no time to recover.
He tackled him, pinning the villain to the ground, smashing him in the face with his fist. “You destroyed yourself, you arrogant fool. Maybe if you hadn’t been so self absorbed, you would have realized you were married to Maroni’s daughter!”
Another punch to the face. “Maybe you’d still be the man you should be!”
Two more quick punches in rapid succession. “We were a team! A team! We were going to take this city back together! All three of us! But you let it eat you away… you let it destroy you! Now you’re gone, you son of a bitch! You’re gone!”
Two-Face barely heard the raving as he began to slip into unconsciousness. The last thing he would remembering seeing was Harvey Bullock grabbing Gordon’s arm and stopping him from landing another blow.
“That’s enough, Commissioner.” Bullock said.
James Gordon looked up at him, his face contorted into a mask of fury. Then he released it, and all the energy he had, left his body. He rolled off of Dent and lay beside him, breathing heavy.
“Get away from me,” he snapped as Bullock approached him. He stood up on his own as several of his men came through the door to the roof, weapons drawn.
“Get him out of here,” Gordon barked as he pointed at the grotesque-looking maniac that used to be his friend.
“How about a ride home?” Harvey offered after a moment.
“Alright… but no conversation.”
“Didn’t plan on it,” Bullock said, pulling a half smoked cigar out of his coat pocket and shoving it into this mouth. He followed the Commissioner through the door and down the steps.
*****
The newspapers all had the same variation of the same headline the next day:
Two-Face captured by The Commissioner!In his office, Jim was reading one of the articles, feeling no pride in it at all, when his personal line rang. Very few people had that number, so he answered it warily, expecting it to be his daughter, who he hadn’t heard from in a while. The voice that came through the other end made him catch his breath.
It was the man who always hid his voice, the one who had always aided Batman. Jim had only talked to him a couple of times, but the fake American accent was just off enough that he knew exactly who it was.
“How are you?” The voice asked.
“Tired.” Came Gordon’s reply.
“Understandable. He considered you one of his closest friends… as close as he could allow, of course. He would have been proud of your achievement last night.”
“Think so?”
“Yes, I am positive. I wish you well, Commissioner. Until we speak again.”
“Why would we need to speak again?” Jim asked.
“One never knows…”
The line went dead. As Jim hung it up, pondering what the cryptic message meant, he began to shake. Batman was really gone, and as angry as he still was about the mess he had left behind, Jim knew he was always going to miss his allies, his friends.
There was a knock at the door before a young man in uniform walked in, setting his daily mail on the desk. He nodded without saying a word and left the office, closing the door behind him.
James Gordon went through the mail, finding a rather thick manila envelope. He opened it up and looked over the papers, before placing them back down on the desk. The title page was self explanatory:
Final Judgment of DivorceHe sighed heavily, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. When he replaced them, he found that he was staring at the pictures on his desk. The picture of his now ex-wife and their son, the picture of him shaking hands with the Mayor the night he become Commissioner of Gotham City, and finally the picture of him and a good looking Harvey Dent. It had been taken soon after the first time Harvey had met Batman. The two of them were on the roof, arms around each others shoulders, big grins on their faces, the bat-signal clearly visible behind them. He picked up the picture up and slammed it into the trash can.
“All for one and one for all. Bullshit.”
He turned his chair around and stared at the remains of the city. It was going to be a long road home, he thought, wearily.
The end[/b]
