Daughter of the Dark Knight

Hours later, we left St. Swithin's home, and we drove away in an uncomfortable silence.

"You think I'm pretty?" I asked, awkwardly. A chuckle came from John, and my cheeks turned a deep red, and I moved my hair, to cover my blushing cheeks.

"Sure I do..."

I giggled, sheepishly, before I finally said, "Thank you..."
We drove in silence, until we reached a bar, and we both stepped out, and someone vaguely familiar waltzed out of the bar, right into the both of us.

"There's a man in there-he's bleeding!" She exclaimed, extremely panicked.

"It's okay, Miss. It's okay." John reassured her, as he helped her down onto the tailgate of a nearby SWAT truck, before we both headed the bar, with our guns drawn.
As we entered the bar, I heard a moaning sound. It sounded like a person! There, near a tipped over barstool, lay the Congressman.

"We've got the Congressman - bullet to the leg, but he's okay." I heard John report into the radio.
I tried my best to wrap up the wound, but the Congressman kept squirming at every attempt I made to wrap it.

"Stay still..." I coaxed, as I still tried to wrap it. Just then, I heard gunshots come from behind the bar. I stood up, and I left my jacket with the Congressman, to use as a pillow. John and I walked out of the bar, and into the alley, and I saw cops surrounding a manhole

"Where's the DWP guy?" A cop shouted.

"They went down there?" John asked.

"And Gordon took SWAT in after them." Foley said, shaking his head.

"Why would you let him down there?" I shouted, angrily, as I clenched my hands into fists. Just then, I felt John grab me, and push me to the ground. The gravel scratched my arms badly. I was just about to yell at John, but then, I saw a fireball burst out of the manhole. I scrambled up, and I ran near the manhole. I would've gotten closer, if Foley, didn't grab my arms, and hold me back, with my arms pinned behind my back.

"Let go!" I said, as I fought against Foley.

"Come on, we gotta get down there-" John said, as he pushed through.

"That was a gas explosion, kid-" one of the cops said.

"Gas? This is a sewer!" John exclaimed.

"No one goes in there till we know what's down there." Foley insisted.

"My uncle is down there! Are you just going to let him die!?" I exclaimed.

"Somebody get the hothead, and Ms. Wayne out of here. And get me a DWP guy!" Foley ordered, as he let me go, and I hit the ground, palms first. My palms smashed off of the concrete. John leaned forward, grabbed my hands, and he pulled me up, before we both ran for his patrol car.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Water Treatment Plant..." John answered, before he turned to look at me.

"You alright?" He gestured towards my palms.

"I'm alright..." I lied, but a single tear streamed down my cheek, and I used the back of my hand to wipe it away, while a quiet sniffle escaped me.

"We'll find him, Jordyn...It's gonna be alright..." He said, reassuringly.

"I hope so. He's basically the only family I've got left." I said, sadly. Just then, I felt the warmth of John's hand encase my cold, bloody one. I looked over at him, and I smiled.
Minutes later, we reached the Water Treatment Facility, and we both climbed out, and walked over to the catchment basin. There, against the cold water, lay a body, with water covering it. I jumped down, and despite the numbness throughout my body, and the raging water that continuously swept me off of my feet, I managed to pull up Gordon. I handed him to John, who pulled him up onto the concrete. He was alive. Just. John hoisted him up, and I pulled myself up, cuts everywhere, my dark hair plastered to my face, my tank top plastered to my skin. After we lugged my uncle into the car, I sat down in the front seat, shivering. John shrugged off his dirty jacket, and he wrapped it around my shoulders. I nodded him my thanks, as I slipped my arms through the sleeves.

After we had dropped my uncle off at the hospital, we drove to Wayne Manor. Alfred opened the door

"I need to see Bruce Wayne." John insisted.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne doesn't take unscheduled calls. Even from police officers." Alfred replied.

"What about for his daughter?" I said, my teeth chattering. Alfred looked at me, before he replied.

"For you, I think he would make an exception Ms. Wayne."
I smiled, my teeth chattering ever still. Moments later, both John and I were sitting inside Bruce's study. John was drumming his leg. He was obviously nervous. I smiled, and I slipped my hand through his own.

"Calm down John..." I smiled.

"Easy for you to say..." He replied, with a wink, and he tucked his hand to his side, with mine encased in it, just as Bruce entered the study.

"What can I do for you, officers?" Bruce asked, coolly.

"Commissioner Gordon's been shot." John answered.

"I'm sorry to hear that -" Wayne apologized, and I noticed that he looked directly at me, when he said that.

"He chased a gunman down into the sewers. When I pulled him out he was babbling about an underground army. A masked man called 'Bane'." I explained.

"Shouldn't you be telling this to your superior officers?" Wayne asked.

"I did. One of them asked if he saw any giant alligators down there. He needs you. He needs the Batman." John answered.

"If Commissioner Gordon thinks I'm the Batman he must be in a bad way..." Bruce said, with an off tone in his voice.

"He doesn't know or care who you are." John said, before a sad, off look overcame his brown eyes.

"But we've met before. When I was a kid. At the orphanage. See, my mom died when I was small. Car accident, I don't really remember it. But a couple of years later my dad was shot over a gambling debt. I remember that just fine." John said, before he turned to look at Bruce.

"Not a lot of people who know what it feels like, do they? To be angry. In your bones. People understand, foster parents understand. For a while. Then they expect the angry kid to do what he knows he can never do. To move on. To forget."
Bruce just started at John.

"So they stopped understanding and sent the angry kid to a boys' home - St. Swithin's. Used to be funded by the Wayne Foundation. See, I figured it out too late. You have to hide the anger. Practice smiling in the mirror. Like putting on a mask. You showed up one day in a cool car, pretty girl on your arm. We were so excited - Bruce Wayne, billionaire orphan. We made up stories about you. Legends. The other boys' stories were just that. But when I saw you I knew who you really were... I'd seen that look on your face. Same one I taught myself." John continued, as he got up to leave. Bruce looked lost in thought.

"I don't know why you took the fall or Dent's murder, but I'm still a believer in the Batman. Even if you're not."

"Why did you say your boys' home used to be funded by the Wayne Foundation?"

"Because the money stopped. Might be time to get some fresh air and start paying attention to the details. Some of those details might need your help." John answered, as we both stood up. I nodded my goodbye to Bruce, as I followed John out of the study.