Crossroads

The air was bitter and frosty, as per usual, and even underneath her thick black coat Hayley couldn't stop her persistent shivering. She had lived in Gotham all her life, and yet she still wasn't accustomed to its extreme weather.

At least the sky had cleared. The Narrows was illuminated with a pale, watery glow; not the thick darkness that Hayley had been anticipating. She tucked away her flashlight, brow creasing as she tried to recognize one of the abandoned warehouses.

You know the place. Like fuck she did. They all seemed identical, especially in the gloom of downtown Gotham. With a frustrated sigh, she stalked further down the maze of alleyways, gripping tightly onto her messenger bag as if it was her lifeline. Which it kinda was, actually, considering both her phone and her gun were in there.

She had assumed that the Narrows would be brimming with nightlife, when in reality the only company she had was the occasional chirping of a cricket or the rustling of the wind as it pushed her hair away from her face.

No one was here. Not a single criminal. Not a single passer-by. Were the citizens of Gotham on strike? Obviously she hadn't gotten the memo.

What a wild fucking goose chase. Hayley clenched her jaw in annoyance, fingers twitching as they often did when she was angry.

"The name of the street would have been nice." She muttered under her breath, drawing her phone out of her bag and hastily scrolling through her contacts.

A rustle sounded somewhere to the right of her, and she immediately stiffened, the worst conclusion jumping to the forefront of her mind. Serial Killer. Scarecrow. The Joker. Sometimes her paranoia was useful - now was one of those times. Hayley slipped her phone into her bag, fingers brushing over the butt of her gun as she did so.

Another rustle, closer this time.

Just as she was about to pull the gun out, something hard and heavy connected harshly with the side of her head, making her reel backwards. Blinking rapidly, she brought her hand to her head. Hot blood seeped between her fingers. Her eyes narrowed and she parted her lips to shout, but then the object - was it a pipe? - met with her head again and her knees buckled.

The Narrows seemed even more nightmarish as her vision blurred and darkened.



The room was dark. There was a barley bag over her head; she could feel the rough, grainy material scratch against her cheek. But she didn't really need to see to know that it was dark. There was this stillness to the room that hinted at complete darkness, a feeling of suffocation as she rolled on her back and drowsily opened her eyes.

"Ugh." A small moan of pain escaped her lips. Her head was pounding, and now that she was fully awake she couldn't escape the excruciating pain. The wound had clotted, but obviously not long ago; she could feel warm blood, disgustingly sticky against her temple and cheek.

The intense pain seemed to sharpen her senses; and as her rational thinking kicked in, so did her panic.

"Fuck." She cursed, regaining her voice as the gravity of the situation set in.

They had done this, obviously. Whether that phone call had been a trap or they just got some sick satisfaction out of seeing her hurt, she didn't know. Probably both.

Thick rope was biting into her wrists and ankles, but, thankfully, she wasn't bound to anything. After a few seconds of struggle she was able to rip off the barley bag, taking a few strands of hair with it. Her face contacted cool air and her green eyes widened to see exactly what she had been anticipating - complete darkness.

God, she really shouldn't have come.

She hesitantly sat up, holding her breath at the scraping sound that she made against the concrete floor. Hayley couldn't hear anything outside of whatever box she had been locked in - but that didn't mean that they weren't there.

Her ears hadn't adjusted to the silence, and her eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkness, so her fingers were clumsy and blind as she searched for the knot binding her ankles. As soon as her legs were freed, she moved onto her hands - which required a lot more of a struggle. Her nails dug into the thick knot and when that didn't work, she tried to rip it apart with her teeth.

Hayley's hands were finally released, wrists burning dully as she stood up. Her fingers trailed lightly across the cool wall and the crappy white-wash crumbled under her touch.

"Which door is it?" The gruff voice was painfully close, and Hayley froze, fingers having just closed over the doorknob.

"Fucking idiot. It's this one. Maroni just told us." The doorknob shook and Hayley recoiled, hiding just to the right of the door with her back pressed against the wall. When the door opened, it would cover her. Hopefully.

"Girly, it's time to get up." The door slammed open and Hayley bit down on her lip as it smashed into her stomach.

Two bulky guards stormed in, the weak light from the corridor dimly illuminating the room - where there was no girl to be found.

"Where the fuck-" One of the men whipped round, just as Hayley darted out of her hiding place and into the corridor.

The warehouse was a maze of grey, sterile corridors, but the adrenaline that was buzzing in her veins seemed to be guiding her just fine.

The tapping of her boots echoed across the abandoned warehouse, followed closely by the heavy thumping of the guards. She had never been the fastest runner - her short legs and laziness might have had something to do with it - but she was narrowly outrunning the guards. It was taking her toll on her; after a few minutes of cat-and-mouse her throat and chest was burning, worsened with every ragged breath she took.

She needed to rest, but she couldn't stop. She was slowing down, why was she slowing down? Hayley could practically feel them breathing down her neck, and with a spark of desperation she rounded a corner, bursting into the nearest set of doors she could find.

Right into the chest of another guard.

He immediately grabbed her arms, and with a small cry of frustration Hayley began to struggle, landing a kick on his stomach and shoving him back a few steps. He recovered from the kick, but not quickly enough to stop her from clenching her fist and slamming it into his jaw, followed by another on his cheek.

Before she could land a third hit, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist, prying her away from the injured guard.

She was clearly outnumbered.

"Let me go!" She snarled, thrashing as he dragged her out of the room and into the hall. A hand clamped down on her mouth and she clamped down her teeth, the metallic taste of blood flooding her mouth.

"Jesus Christ." He removed his hand from her mouth, cussing at the stinging pain. "Like a fucking dog."

A pleasant shock of electricity jolted through her. She recognized that voice.

"...Sam?"

"Hayley?" He sounded pissed, and slightly sarcastic, but even with the barely-concealed annoyance her body was weak with relief.