Aftershock (1/1)

====Arkham. Ground Zero====

 

"Selina! Selina! I've got you!" Bruce fires a hook into a nearby support beam as he rushes to grab her, narrowly avoids falling debris as the floor beneath them collapses. With one hand tightly wrapped around her waist, he keeps his other hand on his grapnel gun, it's rope now the only thing keeping them from falling into the chasms below. "Batwing's en-route," he assures her. "We just... need to hang on."

 

"Well it's not like I can do much else right now," she hisses. "What the hell was that?!"

Bruce bows his head. "It was... It means Walker failed, it means- We did."

 

"No, no that, that-!" she exclaims pointing below them. Something very fast, and very powerful is searching the Belfry.

 

At last hearing them, the black blur stops circling the tower and speeds towards them, grabbing Bruce by his throat and leaving Selina to wrestle with the tether. Zod scowls, as he scans his vitals with his eyes. He runs his hand across Bruce's body. Armour. How disappointing.

"Hmph. Bane talks a lot about you. In fact... He takes great pride in being the only man who *broke* you... Well, *one* of the only men to break you," Zod grasps Bruce's ribcage, and with one slight motion, three of them snap in his hand. For the first time in years, Bruce screams.

"Now... We have more important matters to deal with."

 

"W-we? Who's we?"

 

=====Day Two=====

 

-The Justice League have returned from a mission in deep space to aid with the evacuation and recovery of inmates caught in the catastrophic attack-

 

-allegedly perpetrated by Gotham's elite and most influential-

 

-Mayor Grange surrendered to the GCPD after a stand-off in Chin-

 

-What I'm witnessing... It's awful, Tom, just awful-

 

-The official list of missing inmates has risen to 1367. Jonathan Crane, Harvey Dent, Charles Brown-

 

-I'm told The Wayne Foundation has pledged itself to-

 

-Alex Sartorius, Julian Day, Henry Ross-

 

-Riots, as escaped inmates have spread onto-

 

-Victor Fries, Waylon Jones, Kirk Langstrom-

 

-What seems to be General Zod was seen in the Belfry just moments before it fell-

 

-Awful-

 

-Massacre-

 

-Carnage-

 

- And Walker, Drury Walker still missing. Recent reports indicate that-

 

It started with the earthquake, but that wasn't the tremors alone that killed them. They were only the catalyst for what came next. The vibrations shook loose the Belfry's foundations, and all of it's one hundred floors. The Iceberg Lounge, Sionis Industries, Elliot Heights, all flattened, along with anyone who stayed behind. It took two days for the dust cloud to dissipate. Two days before anyone could even see the bodies.

 

=====Day Three=====

 

The last thing Charles Brown saw before he hit the ground was Sionis' black, skull-like face and his piercing red eyes staring back at him as he let go of his hand and threw him off the wall. The last thing he heard was his cackle, his sadistic, monstrous laugh. And the last thing he felt? Pain. Always pain.

 

"No, please!"

 

Someone else is here, calling out for help. Their screams echoes throughout the catacombs, then, the single, decisive stroke of a sword hitting bone is heard, and finally... Silence. Another inmate dead.

 

...

 

Chuck gets to his feet, slowly... That's four fractured ribs. "Hello? Anyone there-?"

 

The figure is clad in black, two pointed ears adorn it's masked face. It's yellow eyes gleam in the darkness.

 

"Batman?" Chuck asks.

 

No, not Batman, Batman doesn't carry a sword, and nor, now looking at the bodies on the ground, does he kill. "Who are you?"

 

The figure doesn't speak, it doesn't compromise. It has only one mission, to kill the survivors, and it won't be halted by anyone or anything, let alone a Kite-Man. It draws its' sword one more time, and then- BANG.

 

The figure falls down dead, and the gunman emerges from the shadows, pocketing his silver dollar.

 

"Dent, what- what was that thing-?"

 

Two-Face growls, then, picking up the body's sword, decapitates it. "A Talon." He removes the creature's belt and attaches it to his waist. "They're looking for survivors."

 

"Survivors? These are the things Penguin mentioned?"

 

Dent nods. "Correct. Undead nightmares that know only what they're told. Completely loyal to their masters. You've seen them before."

 

The Kabuki assassins... The Yakuza must've given those to Penguin to help fight against the Owls. And we killed them. The only things that might've posed a challenge...

 

"But why the hell would they-?"

 

"Doesn't matter... We just need to get to the surface. You still got a kite back there?"

 

"Yeah, but it's out of fuel."

 

Two-Face snorts. "What kind of kite needs fuel?"

 

===GCPD Holding Cells===

 

Before Arkham Asylum, and before Arkham City, it took years for the Gotham PD to develop a proper strategy for handling costumed criminals. When the first ones started popping up, the cops simply threw them in the drunk tank and called it a day. Not a sound strategy for those with powers- In one instance, Polka Dot Man simply teleported away in seconds- but, for the most part it worked, especially in the case of the lower tiers, the felons that were eventually branded C-Listers.

Chuck Brown started his career by crashing through a window, and into a cocktail party hosted by J Devlin Davenport and stealing a pearl necklace belonging to his girlfriend, or one of them at least. At the time, he had no reason to think that The Batman would take the theft so personally. It was his mistake.

 

"Hey, I know you, right?"

 

Chuck shook his head. "Unlikely."

 

"No, wait, give me a minute, Charlie's dad right? I-"

 

The man stopped talking as the realisation dawned on him. "I'm so sorry"

 

Brown nodded, staring at his feet.

 

The man spoke again. "So, what'd they book you in for?"

 

Chuck smiled faintly. "Flying a kite."

 

The man laughed heartily. "Flying a- Oh, that's brilliant!"

 

"Sorry, who are you?"

 

"Oh, right. I'm Axel's dad. He was a friend of your- My name's Drury, but you, you can call me Moth."

 

Moth... Moth. Why did that ring a-?

 

"You're Killer Moth?!" Chuck exclaimed, blasting to his feet.

 

Drury grinned and his cheeks blushed a deep red. "I surely am!"

 

"Hell yeah! You're great, I saw you on the TV with that friend of yours, your sidekick-"

 

"Partner," The dark haired man beside them mumbled

 

"Gar, play nice. This guy's special, I can tell."

 

"Sure he is," Lynns said, standing up. "And I bet that con artist was special too."

 

"Hey, Zodiac ain't so bad," Drury called back. "He's just upset. He was so sure he could *actually* tell the future. 'Bet a lotta money. Lost a lotta money..."

 

"Oh, that's *all* it was?" Lynns replied sarcastically.

 

"I told you we'd get some top talent, didn't I say so?"

 

====Day Six====

 

"Is there anyone out there? This is Charles Brown, please respond. Please is there anyone out there? If you can hear this, my name is Charles Brown. We've salvaged this radio from the wreckage of Sionis Industries, along with two weeks worth of food, but we're trapped down here, and running out of air. If there's anyone left, anyone, please-"

 

"Turn that radio off. Ain't no one coming, not for us."

 

Chuck sighs. "You don't-"

 

"Yes, we do, Brown. You have to face facts. They don't have the resources or the time. And, if they did, well... well this is America. They certainly wouldn't waste them on Kite-Man, and they sure wouldn't bother to save *us*." He sits down, opening a tin of carrots, today's rations, up. "Not after what I've done," he murmurs, his voice shifting back to Dent's.

 

"I'm a murderer Charles; a killer, a thief... I've beaten children half to death! Children!" he exclaims, Two-Face's growl seeping through.

 

"But you don't have to be," Chuck pleads.

 

"And how did that work out for you?" Two-Face snarls. "60 feet underground, living off of peas and carrots, abandoned- Abandoned just like we were!"

 

"We didn't even have the scars then..." Harvey whispers. "But Bruce betrayed us... For our own protection he said... Hnh. Do we *look* like we were protected?!" He slumps his back against the wall. "Gilda... He cost us Gilda," he says, his voice softening.

 

"Who was she?" Chuck asks, his hand on his shoulder.

...

 

"No-one," Two-Face growls, reaching for his gun. "No one that matters."

 

====Day Twelve====

 

"Where are we going-?"

 

Harvey finishes stuffing a makeshift harness into his bag. "Maroni had a series of underground caches across Gotham, nearest one's a mile that way, lined with steel in case something like this ever happened. We can access the elevator shaft through there, take us back up to the surface."

 

"Yeah, but how do you- Oh."

 

"Yeah. That's why."

 

Chuck swallows, one hand in his pocket, gripping the dead Talon's blade. "Why didn't it ever-?" he stops talking halfway through his sentence, and goes back to tying his own ropes together.

 

Harvey sighs. "Why hasn't it healed? Or why aren't we dead from infection?

 

...

 

"The Maronis were always good with chemicals... Acid, that was their specialty. It hasn't healed, it *can't* heal, because it never *stopped* burning. Never stops hurting." He turns away as he pulls his coin out of his pocket. Two-Face's voice is back in his head again. "We should have killed him. He's a liability..."

 

"No," Harvey replies. "He stays with us."

 

"Your choice, Harvey... Your mistake"

 

Chuck stands in silence, watching Dent argue with himself, seemingly endlessly, until finally, Harvey turns around to face him. "Gilda... She was my wife."

 

===Butchinsky's. Four Days Later====

 

The door slams open as Rigger barges in.

 

"Closed for refurbishment, it said," Len mumbles.

 

"Where the hell were you?"

 

Len ignores him, continuing to sweep the ground. Rigger scowls, kicking the dustpan out of his hand, emptying it's contents everywhere. Dirt. The one thing that makes Fiasko squirm.

 

"Drury's gone Len, and Miranda, and Chancer and Mayo and... And Chuck. And where were you?!"

 

"Dusting," Fiasko frowns as he wipes his hands with a paper napkin. He walks past Rigger as he enters the bar, stocking it with spirits taken from the Iceberg Lounge.

 

"Do you even care?"

 

Len places a bottle of wine on the counter. He doesn't speak.

 

"Good people... Good people are dead, missing they say..." Rigger sits on a stool, wiping his eyes.

 

"Walker still might've made it back."

 

"That isn't good enough! It isn't-" Rigger covers his face in his hands, blowing his noise so loudly he doesn't even hear the door chime. "It ain't fair..."

 

"No, it isn't," a weary voice mutters. "A drink please, Len."

Done