Disclaimer: Any unknown names? Yeah, those are mine

Decay

By Miss Katonic

In the distance he could hear the rumbling of the midnight train. More closely located were the constant screechings of the bats that frequented the attic. And the children.

A spot of blood beaded at the man's cheek as his razor slipped. Cursing, he dabbed at the spot only to watch more bloom from the nick. Above him he heard a dry sob. Another curse rolled off his tongue, and he tightened his grip on the razor, and continued to shave the stubble from his face.

It had been days since she'd died, but the children refused to stop crying. Especially the boy. The little bastard wasn't even his but now he was supposed to take care of him.

Another sob from the attic met the man's ears.

Oh, he'd take care of him.

Swearing, he wiped his face with a dry towel and stormed up the squeaky stairs. Each step screeched like the bats above as he ascended and flung open the door.

The sobbing instantly ceased. The man ignored the closer of the two beds, and approached the boy's.

"She's gone!" he roared, irritated by both the bats flurrying around his head and the whimpering boy. He clamped one hand on the boy's scrawny neck and with the other, still holding the razor, brought it to the boy's trembling lips. Along both sides of his cheeks was a curved path of dried blood, clotted from the night before.

"I muh . . . miss her," the boy stuttered, his eyes wide as he stared at the blade.

"You're a child," the man spat. "You're supposed to play. Laugh. Smile. So again I ask you: why so serious?"

The boy shrieked as he drew the blade across the already-cut skin. Blood flowed easily down his cheeks, and the child tried to wriggle away from the man, but he held tight to the boy's throat.

"If I hear you crying again tomorrow night," the man threatened, bending down close to the boy, "I'll open those sores up again. Do you want that?"

The boy shook his head vigorously, drawing up one hand to his mouth to staunch the blood.

"Good," was all the man said, turning away. He airily swatted away a few of the bats that continuously circuited the room and headed for the door, but already he could hear the boy beginning to whimper again. The man knew he'd be back tomorrow night, carving that smile right back into the child's face.

Chapter One

Welcome to Gotham

"Commissioner Gordon?"

The man addressed looked up from the paper he'd been reading to survey the secretary before him. He raised his eyebrows as a silent, "Well?" and waited. The secretary glanced at her watch. "There's a woman here to see you."

"What's her name?"

"She failed to give me a real one." The secretary sniffed, and concluded, "and gave me only 'Sorora.'"

"Make sure she's been through security, then send her in," Gordon ordered wearily, laying down his paper. The day had been wrapping up so pleasantly--not a stone to catch in the cogs until this. Several minutes passed until Gordon began to wonder (and hope) whether the woman had left.

"Miss Sorora, Commissioner," the secretary said drily, reappearing at his door, and leaving as swiftly as she'd come.

The woman--Sorora, presumably--entered the office. She appeared to be on the early end of her thirties and kept her dark blonde hair pulled tightly back. Her clothes looked as if they'd been just pressed in the lobby, and the heels she wore added a good four inches to her considerable height. Her face was pleasant, but solemn and perfectly creaseless, as if she had never experienced emotion before.

"How may I help you?" Gordon inquired gently. Sorora sat down stiffly at the chair across from him and folded her hands on the desk..

"I've been sent from the Reeves Precinct," she began crisply.

"Welcome to Gotham."

Sorora ignored his greeting and pulled out a resume. "As you can see, my credentials are excellent." Her tone was not boastful, but matter-of-fact.

"Chief Detective, huh?" Gordon muttered, glancing at the paper. "How is old Clark doing these days? I thought he was chief."

"He died several months ago," Sorora responded tonelessly. "About the same time I was promoted, in fact. Funny how the world works."

"Funny." Gordon agreed, unamused. He brought his eyes from the resume back to the woman. "And why were you sent here? I didn't receive any memo about your arrival."

"It's all below boards, Commissioner. Surely in light of recent actions in this city you can understand why. I didn't even know I was coming to Gotham until this morning."

Something like a growl crept up Gordon's throat, and the woman cracked a forced smile.

"Come, now, Commissioner. You of all people know that not every cop can be trusted. If it were discovered I was here, things would not end prettily."

"If you don't mind me asking, Miss Sorora, what makes you so special?" Irritation was growing in Gordon's mind as he looked across the table at this calm woman.

Sorora sighed patiently, and tucked her resume back into her briefcase.

"Some of my best connections," she began softly, "could not be on a silly resume. I assure you my help in your case to catch the Joker will prove vital. You see, Commissioner, he is my brother."