Chapter 13: Unlucky

Nightwing P.O.V.

At long last, Nightwing finally collapsed on the couch. Nervous breakdowns had never been pretty, and Kelly had been screaming bloody murder for nearly ten whole minutes. Eventually, after pattering out, she began hyperventilating. After attempting to calm her down, a quick raid in to the kitchen pantry allowed him to find some sleeping pills. She was finally fitfully yet sound asleep. Needing to attempt to keep a clean conscience, Nightwing informed Oracle that he intended to keep her safe for just one more night. In the morning, in all likelihood, she would be on the first bus out of Gotham.

"Hey, Oracle, you still awake?" he spoke into the communicator. "Finally. I'm getting hungry. This had better be important, Dick," Barbara groused. She typically got irritable when she hadn't had anything to eat, so Nightwing figured he'd get this out of the way quickly. "Kelly's done. She has to go home," he said bluntly. There was a brief pause over the line. "… I figured it would end this way. Well, nothing we can do about it now. I don't envy her therapist, in any case," Oracle stated.

"No kidding. What's her exit strategy, Barb?" Nightwing asked. He listened as Oracles fingers ran over her console for a brief moment, before she finally answered, "Well, we could try and go for the Daily Planet, but we haven't gotten any word from Vicki about the transfer," she reiterated. Nightwing leaned his head back on the couch. Morning was soon going to break, and he really needed to take a nap.

Kelly P.O.V.

Her stupid alarm had been droning for five minutes when she finally found the snooze button. Thank you Saturday, she thought to herself. Dragging herself out of bed, she yawned. She was thirsty, and needed to check to see if she needed to shop.

As she walked down her stairway, she saw Kenny had evidently just arrived home, and had just thrown his EMS jacket on the couch. She yawned, "Hey, Kenny. We still have any milk?" He looked up at her. "Oh, yeah. I just brought a gallon home with me." She smiled, and before she walked past him gave him a peck on the cheek.

She arrived at Metropolis for the last six months, and had been establishing herself at KTPN. Two months later, she met Kenny when she joined some of her co-workers during happy hour. He had just gotten out of a rough relationship, and was a little hesitant to get back into the pool, but they'd hit things off, and had been living together for the past month.

The flat they had rented was in the nice part of town, and was a forty-minute drive from downtown Metropolis. Though fairly pricy, they both were making rent. Kelly was working as a reporter, and was working on several assignments and gaining the attention of the station owners. Kenny was still going to school, looking to earn a medical doctorate, and was working part-time as an EMS for credit. Though they had all the money they could need, they hadn't been able to spend as much time together as they wanted to.

Kelly re-entered the room carrying two full glasses. She handed one to Kenny, and sat herself next to him. "So, what's on the itinerary for today?" she asked. "Well, hopefully I'll pass out before I forget how to breathe. I've been awake for almost forty hours, Kay, you know that?" he said as he glanced over at her. Kelly took a swig, "well, there's a nice warm bed upstairs, if you're interested." "Oh, and you aren't going to join me?" Kenny grinned. Kelly smiled, "Maybe later. I need to head out soon to talk to a source."

Kenny just groaned as he fell back on the couch. "Again with the "source?" Couldn't you just wait for that, what's-her-face, Lane woman to make her inevitable documentary on Intergang? You're a newbie, I don't think you're eligible for Pulitzers when you were passing out by a fountain in your underwear this time last year," he said. Kelly started to blush. "I wasn't… I never should have told you about that," she groused. Kenny just shrugged. "Furthermore, I don't want you getting in any serious trouble. Intergang aren't a bunch of clowns who flash colors or tag convenience stores. These are hardcore syndicate members, and if they think you are going to impede them in any way, shape, or form…" he broke off.

Kelly was an ambitious social climber, and when her mind was set on a goal, she could not change her mind. "Oh, stop Kenny. I am a member of the press. It is my duty to look after the community," she said, proudly. "So it doesn't have anything to do with paying back your loans so I don't have to pay the entire rent?" Kenny asked. Wanting to end this conversation on a good note, she only responded with "Good night, Kenny," as she kissed him again, this time on the lips. She ducked into the closet, changing out of her t-shirt into something a little more presentable. "Hey, Kelly! Could you come out here?" Kenny yelled. "Just a moment, Ken, I'll be out so…" Kelly lost her voice when she re-entered the living room, just in time to see Silva put a bullet into Kenny's head.

She woke up with a jolt, her face buried into the pillow. She looked up, realized she was in a completely different room, and remembered what happened last night. She buried her head back into the pillow, gripping it tightly as she begged whatever could be listening to wake her up again. Willing herself to move, she exited her room to find that Nightwing had left her apartment. Neither pleased nor upset by this recent development, she finally brought herself to take off her dress, take a long overdue shower, and then get ready for… what? What was she supposed to do?

Silva P.O.V.

Two eyes peered from behind the mask, staring into Silva as if he was some kind of judge. No, Black Mask a judge? More like an executioner. Looking back, Silva really should have prepared himself for running into someone who he had pissed off. Working for the Joker tended to have that effect, professionally. Still, it was just his luck to run into the one person who hated him more then probably anyone else. Batman beat him to a pulp, Gordon locked him up, but Silva was the man who ruined him.

They had stared at each other for nearly two whole minutes. The rest of the crew was starting to get nervous. O'Doyle cautiously approached his new employer. "Eh, Boss? Are you alright?" he asked. As if a switch were activated, Black Mask immediately snatched a pistol from his belt and pointed it directly at Silva. The rest of the men started to shout and panic as he leveled the gun towards Silva's head.

"And here I was thinking I could wait for the Joker to stick a knife in the back of your neck. Should have realized that would've been asking too much," he snarled. Silva just stared down the barrel. "It's been a while, Sionis," Silva replied. "Shut the hell up!" snarled Black Mask. O'Doyle cautiously entered Black Mask's line of sight. "Uh, Boss? I can vouch for this guy. He's cool," he said. Black Mask promptly wheeled on his sub-commander. "COOL?! Do you have any idea what this guy has done?!" he screamed. "Nothing we haven't all done… right?" O'Doyle asked.

Silva put a hand on O'Doyle's shoulder, indicating that he stand out of his way. He walked up to Black Mask, and looked his other former boss directly in the eye. "If you wanted me dead, you could have just left me to get killed by those pigs. Yet you ordered O'Doyle to save me. Why?" Hector asked. Black Mask slowly lowered his pistol, then began to chuckle. "Well, for starters, I wanted to personally witness some of my old handiwork," he laughed, mirthlessly. Silva prevented himself from slugging him across the jaw. "Why else?" Hector asked. "Because of this sweet little dish," Black Mask answered, picking up a file. A photograph peeked out of the top, and Silva instantly recognized the brown bangs.

"Stop! She's done, finished!" Silva yelled, panicking. Black Mask looked at Hector, before laughing. "Why do you care about her? We both need to see the Joker dead before we make any moves. Right now, we aren't in any position to move in the open, but if we can make the GCPD focus entirely on dismantling the rest of those traitors, it's good bye Gotham for good," the crime lord cheered. "So why her? I can just write a note and mail it to Gordon's address," Hector pleaded. "Oh, not just that. I also need insurance to make absolute sure that when we leave Gotham-" "A HOSTAGE?! She almost got killed last night, we don't need to have a hostage!" Silva begged. "This isn't the Joker's crew, Silva. You aren't commanding this operation any more! Last time I trusted you with something, you…" Black Mask went silent, and then promptly slammed the barrel of his gun right up against Silva's temple.

Clutching his head, Silva looked up to see O'Doyle had wrapped Black Mask in a full nelson. Getting back on his feet, Hector glared at his former boss. They both stared at each other with what could only be described as the deepest level of hatred. The kind that could only be described as a burning, endless desire to see something utterly annihilated from this plane of existence. These two men hated each other, and nothing in this lifetime would ever come close to reconciling that.

"You're lucky I'm looking to fry another fish, Silva," snarled Black Mask. O'Doyle hesitantly released him. Brushing off his suit, the crime boss looked at Silva. "One last interview, whether either of you like it or not. I provide the place, I demand set the terms, and I decide when either of you get to leave," he stated, making it abundantly clear that there would be no argument. "Oh? And how do you intend get past the Bat and his lackeys? Or the cops, for that matter? Hell, even Catwoman is looking out after her, so if you want to go after her, you're going to have to fight half of Gotham while you're at it," Hector snarled.

Black Mask just stared at him. Despite the mask that had been burned onto his face, Hector had learned how to tell when his ex-boss was smiling. "Oh, I've already thought of a way to get the GCPD's attention, don't you worry. I'm not the only one banking on having the Joker die. Come this afternoon, I'm going to treat Gotham to some fireworks…"

Nightwing P.O.V.

It had been a busy afternoon. After a quick powernap in his bunk at the clock tower, Nightwing had to co-ordinate with Bruce, Alfred, and Tim. After closing in on some of the last vestiges of the Joker's gang. Though his financial information was largely a mystery, Bruce had promised that, all things considered, he would dismantle that entire sector himself, without any further need or risk to further traumatize Kelly. Bruce seemed to regret letting Vicki and Bullock pressure him into bringing in an outsider, and didn't seem like he would eagerly rush in to allow civilians to put themselves in harms way on his behalf again.

After a full afternoon, Robin had finally checked in on Vicki Vale's whereabouts. She had never left her apartment. Apparently, sometime after Kelly left, Vicki had a run-in with Catwoman, who promptly hog-tied her in her bedroom before leaving on "pressing matters." Vicki had been unharmed, not counting blows to her pride. Bruce, on the other hand, was continuing his investigations into Professor Strange and the TYGER mercenaries. Which left Nightwing himself to run patrols. He didn't mind taking care of the city by himself. Though he learned to work as a team, that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the various benefits that came with freedom. Perched on a rooftop overlooking Gotham National Bank, he decided that he should check up on Oracle again.

"Any calls I'm missing, Oracle," he spoke into his wrist. "I just got up here, give me a sec," Barbara answered. There was a brief pause. "OK, let me check in on my dad's line…oh… this is interesting…" she continued, her interest beginning to pert. "What's up?" Nightwing asked. "There seems to be some kind of disturbance outside the Iceberg Lounge," explained Oracle. "Apparently, our old friend got an eviction notice from the mayor's office, and was ordered to clear out. I know, your heart goes out to him," she added, sarcastically. Nightwing smiled. "And just when he was doing so well trying to go straight," he chuckled. "Apparently, he's making a huge deal about it outside the entrance to the club. A few officers are parked outside, and my -err- the commissioner is on his way," she relayed to him. Despite being an incredibly dangerous enemy over the years, the Penguin had managed to find ways to subvert the legal system and remain an upstanding citizen in the eyes of most Gothamites. While law enforcement and criminals recognized that he was Gotham City's premier arms dealer, the average citizen had come to look at him as a respectable business owner.

"Hang on… things are getting heated between the officer and Cobblepot… he's… OH NO!" she screamed. "What happened?" Nightwing yelled. "A bunch of Cobblepot's men burst through the door of the club and opened fire on the cops. They're reporting officers are down. Dick, you have to…" "I'm on it!" Nightwing cried as he leaped of the roof, landing near his parked motorcycle. Repaired of the damage from its last dynamic entry, the bike roared to life and took off, darting through the city streets.

Kelly P.O.V.

The note had read, Kelly, I have to leave for a while. I'll be back tonight to pick you up and take you out of the city. We'll talk with Vicki about that new job up north, and I have the plane ticket ready. Talk to you tonight. Kelly gave it a once over before she crumpled it up and threw it into the waste bin. She needed to make a break for it, tonight. Packing in everything she could fit into her suitcase, she called a cab, and had him drive all the way to the bus depot. A purchase of a one-way ticket to anywhere else later, and she found herself sitting on a bench, suitcase across from her, waiting for the delay to end so she could begin her new life away from anyone she knew here. The bus arrived behind schedule, but Kelly was just happy she finally was leaving this sick and twisted place.

Loading her suitcase in, she took a seat behind the driver, closed her eyes, and counted the moments towards when she would finally see the sign, "You are now leaving Gotham City." Sure enough, when she finally opened her eyes, the bus was on the outskirts of the city proper, and was soon going to enter the woods and cut that retched city from her line of sight forever. Once she got to Metropolis, she'd be able to finally get her head together and figure out what to do.

First things first, she was going to pay Kenny a visit. Maybe he finally woke up, and she could tell him… how sorry she was that it took her this long to visit, how she should have heeded his warning about Intergang, about how… she had no idea where to start. Next thing, she'd finally call her family back. It was inexcusable that she didn't try to get in contact with them for weeks, and she had so much to tell them. Finally she'd ask Eve about that flat outside Coast City. All these things she had been avoiding, all of it seemed so trivial next to the mess she was finally about to lea—

SMASH

A violent slam hit the bus directly. The drivers and passengers violently jolted against their seatbelts. Kelly almost hurled from the direct strain against her stomach. Feeling sick, she looked up, seeing the entryway of the bus broken in by what looked like a heavily reinforced van. The driver, slumped over the wheel, started to stir. The van backed away, and a man wearing a bulletproof vest, wool mask and wielding a sub-machinegun, kicked down the broken doors and entered the bus, briefly sweeping the crowd until his eyes fell on Kelly.

"Bout time we found you, kiddo. You still have work to do," he menaced. Kelly, her mind finally starting to settle, realized what was going on. "Please, please just let me go home," she begged. "Sorry, boss's orders," he replied flatly as she roughly grabbed her shoulder and tried to yank her out of her seat. Stopped by the buckle, he was unable to move her. Growling, he pointed the gun directly at her temple. "We. Are. Leaving," the man snarled.

Kelly was done. Glaring up at him, Kelly pressed her forehead against the barrel of the gun. Caught off guard, the man took a step back. Kelly, silently goading him to get it over with, unbuckled herself and stood up, staring him directly in the eyes. "Get it over with," she growled. The man gulped. "Sorry. I don't want to do this any more then you," he muttered apologetically, as he promptly smacked the butt of the weapon against her forehead.

And this ends my "I'm not dead" chapter. I know I took a long break, but don't worry. I intend to finish this before Arkham Knight arrives. I expect to wrap this up in another four, maybe five chapters.