Story [TDK] ~ 20 Dark Nights~ TDK AU Drabbles (almost) UDC3; Week 9: Colourized

Title: 20 Dark Nights
Author: MsLanna
Characters: canon cast of TDK, OC 'she'
Genre: Drabbles, AU
Notes: Each set of Drabbles is its own AU. They do not make one overall story, but take a new view at another 'what if' each week.



Week 1: No joking



1. Angry

"But I know what he looks like without the paint! Tell him that!" She almost screamed at the custodian.

"I did, we have been through this how often now? He's not going to change his mind," he replied wearily.

Her fist clenched at her sides. Always the same answer, always; days, weeks, months. And even though she did know already! She should give it up, should have done so ages ago; but she couldn't.

Arkham was no place to be, rightfully so or not. And who did he think he was, anyway? Just another bad joke, just another quixotic quest.



2. Curious

"Is that all?" She asked quietly. "Is that really all?"

"So he says. You can never be sure with him, can you now?" The custodian shrugged.

She shook her head. "No." Her hands unclenched as she took a deep breath. "Tell him then, that I can't see."

"But why - hey! What -, where did you get that? Somebody stop her - Oh. My. God! Griese, go and get some bandages! And disinfectant! Oh Lord."

"So, she can't see?" The other voice sounded mildly curious.

"By God, no. She can't see anything now anymore."

"So, what is his answer now?"



3. Happy

"Hi."

No answer, just the sound of his ticks; the teeth clicking, the tongue licking over the lips.

"So, how do I look?"

"Okay."

"I'll take your word for it." She smiled, reaching fro the bandages over her eyes.

More silence engulfed them. Stretching between the silent noises.

"Why are you here?"

"You remember what you said about dogs chasing cars? Well, at least, I chose one I can never get." She shrugged. "I mean, I wouldn't know what to do if -, I mean, I don't know what to do now, I don't even know what to say? .



4. Sad

"I prepared a practical joke. It's difficult to find one that work through bullet-proof glass, kinda a magic trick but -" she shrugged, "my hand-eye-coordination is not what is was."

Swallowing a gasp, she wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. It came off wet and sticky.

"I don't know. It just feels - right. Nobody is as alone as he thinks.

"I think," she added to softly for him to hear. Which left only one thing.

"So, will you see me again?" She knew that the answer could justify everything. It would be all that mattered.


5. Content

"Yes."

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!!!

 

Wow, creepy!!

 

Thanks NYCitygurl.
There'll be more canon cast around from now on. Promise.

Note: Since the original prompts of the UDC3 didn't work for this, I just took week 1 again. (The reason this doesn't count as an entry in the UDC...)

---

[b][u]Week 2: Red Understanding[/u][/b]


[u]1. Happy[/u]

"Wow, I mean - wow." She stared at the couple in front of her noticing that they had not been that happy for quite a while. Still, this had been predictable right from the day of the funeral. Rachel Dawes had found a strong arm to lean on then.

"Congratulations, Rachel!" she embraced the woman. "You deserve all the happiness of the world."

Stepping back she took in the man at Rachel's side. It seemed strange to see him in a normal kind of suit for a change.

"I have no words, Mr. Wayne. I am so happy for you!"





[u]2. Sad[/u]

She could never for get his grin. It waited for her, stared at her from a blank wall. A face she knew. Almost a face.
- Ash and blood -
Memento of somebody who had crashed one hundred storeys into his death laughing. Sometimes it was just not a good idea to keep a switchblade in the tip of your boot.

She had spent a lot of time staring at it. The trick - the trick was not to cry.
It worked okay.

And she had taken the liberty to add the motto herself.
- bright red lipstick -

[i]Why So Sad?[/i]




[u]3. Curious[/u]

It was curious how everything seemed to fall into place so easily after his death. As if he'd been the mismatched part in the puzzle. Of course that was not true.

Without Harvey Dent none of all that would have happened. The city followed its martyr faithfully. The White Knight smiled down at you everywhere; the new and shiny face of Gotham. Criminals were arrested, corrupt officers found out; one lawsuit chased the next. The air was full of possibilities and a bright future.

It was a sad truth, but true nevertheless:
The people believed it, and so it happened.




[u]4. Angry[/u]

Sometimes she understood his desire perfectly. When the red haze descended, blanking out everything but the urge to hurt somebody - anybody - because she hurt; see the world burn, because she burned and no ocean could drown the fire.

She let go; with odds like these, there was no danger that she'd beat one of them to a pulp.

"Enough," his voice and his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

The red haze lifted a little, she nodded at the batman.

If only he would allow her to fight without armour. It would have been over long ago already.




[u]5. Content[/u]

Knives and lint, that had been it. Knives and lint.
For somebody who liked to see the world burn, the lack of matches or even a lighter was surprising. By now the content of his pockets had moved into an nondescript brown box, waiting to be picked up by friends or relatives. They put it in the hindmost corner.

Not that there were any. People like that just didn't get along.

Nobody would ever come to pick up that box, of course, Commissioner Gordon was not worried about that. He didn't want anybody to get that kind of ideas again.

 

Very dark and cool.

 

This is so much fun. Incredible. Thanks to brodiew for these wonderful prompts. Unexpected fun, they were for sure!

NYCitygurl - I love dark! Dark any mysterious - with a bit of laughter.


Note: I might not have gotten the fact that some of the prompts are fixed expression. Or maybe even all of them? I have no idea. Please excuse the foreign speaker.

---

[b][u]Week 3: Another Kind of Plan [/u] [/b]




[u]1. On the Fly [/u]

Now that was a new one. She threw herself flat to the ground as the he winged shape passed by overhead. Flying vigilantes; this would be an interesting city to own. The shape swooped down and took out the sentries in one beautifully swift move.

She watched in fascination. That one man took out her whole entourage. Guns, knives, nothing seemed to stop him. She grinned. One challenge at a time. She'd get to him once she got the underworld under her control. There was a time and place for everything.

All she needed was the right kind of ally.





[u]2. "Sink or Swim,"[/u]

she told him smiling and patted his back; and his glare had been priceless. Maybe the head of the Falcone crime family did not take well to being bested. Well, he wouldn't have to get used to it.

"Don't worry," she said, leaning on his walking stick. "I will know how to fill your place perfectly."

They had lowered him then, but with his hands tied behind his back and his feet encased in cement, she didn't think he'd do well swimming. Examining her nails she turned, facing the painted man.

"So," she linked her arm to his," what next?"




[u]3. Rock the Boat [/u]

"Brilliant move," she flopped down in her chair. "An unbalanced vigilante, a scared police department, and a disfigured lawyer. I have to hand it to you; the city is in uproar."

He didn't answer immediately, and she contented herself with watching his several ticks play out.

"You have [i]no [/i] idea what is going on here," he finally said.

Getting up she ambled over, taking up a challenging pose in front of him. "Then tell me all about it. Starting with how you got this charming smile of yours." She tilted her head, smiling cheerfully. "That must be quite a story."




[u]4. Get Over It [/u]

It was not that his plans didn't work out. The real [i]problem [/i] was that his plans were nothing near as helpful to hers as she had expected. Resignedly, she watched the batman take out swat teams until those realised who the hostages were, and who were the takers. Fortunately, none of her people. It was quite a spectacle.

Finally he reached the Joker, but to her disappointment did not kill him. What had the world come to when guardians of good and order did refrain from killing agents of chaos? Putting down the binoculars, she made for the nearest rooftop.


[u]5. Under the Gun[/u]

If you didn't do it all yourself. She sighed, as she knocked out the sniper, catching his weapon before it could drop. It looked as if that Joker guy was not as useful as planned. It seemed that nobody was, actually.

Flat on her belly she aimed for the rope. What didn't break you, made you stronger; and that batman was badly annoying already. The way he kept taking out people, she'd have her hands full enough.

She pulled the trigger.

His laughter followed by a wet thud and the worried shouts of the police accompanied her into the night.

 

And I thought I know you already, Mel! But you are one of those friends who presents more and more surprises under the surface the longer I know you.



That is awesome stuff... you did capture the dark mood of this subject so well... and the madness underneath it.

 

Thank you Azure.
The dark and mad aspects are kinda fun. I like the whole atmosphere going on in TDK.

Ah yes, it is an SW challenge. Curse the SW-specific prompts. So here are last weeks promts - again. I hope it doesn't keep happening so often...

---

[u][b]Week 4: Double Agent[/b][/u]



[u]1. On The Fly[/u]

His pulse hammered in his ears as he shot through the street canyons of Gotham. [i]Too slow.[/i] The second ticked away. The cityscape rushed by but the throbbing pulse in his ears seemed to stand still. He was too slow.

[i]Not far, avenue X, hurry up, just a little longer.[/i] He shot up the street like a black shadow, perceiving nothing but the slowly dwindling distance. Even his racing pulse seemed to be frozen in time. The Cicero loomed up in front of him.

He arrived just in time to see the house go up in a ball of fire.




[u]2. Sink Or Swim[/u]

"Of course, you don't have to take the offer," he smiled. "There are always - alternatives."

Sure as hell there were, but somehow she doubted she would like them. The Family could hardly approach her and then [i]hope [/i] she didn't tell; they would make sure of it.

Bracing herself she nodded. "Got me there. I'm in."

"It won't be much work," the henchman assured. "Just a snippet of information here and there. I'm sure Gordon won't even notice." His grin betrayed the complete opposite of his words.

[i]Sure won't,[/i] she thought bitterly. [i]But then, who said you just bought me?[/i]




[u]3. Rock The Boat[/u]

Rachel Dawes was a heavy woman if you had to carry her all alone. The woman panted up the stairs, flopping the unconscious form down on the couch. 48 hours, that should be enough. Putting a bottle of water and a mobile on the table she left, locking the door behind her.

Dent didn't deserve that, she had decided. It might just cost her her head, but if he managed to clean up Gotham in the next two days - and being the Batman, whatever could stop him?

All she had to do now, was get back an duty inconspicuously.



[u]4. Get Over It[/u]

He was not the Batman. Dent was not the Batman. And now he was dead.

She looked at her cuffed hands. There was nothing she could do about that, not now. There was nobody who could prove that she had indeed played double agent on Maroni, not yet. And it did not matter much anymore anyway.

They had only told her half the truth and she had only secured half the stake. Putting her head into her hands she swore under her breath.

"Well, well, you have been a naughty girl." A knife cut into the lock off her cuffs.




[u]5. Under the Gun[/u]

"So," the face of the Joker loomed over her, "where have you put my prize, hmmm?"

She swallowed, but if she told him, everything - everything - would have been in vain. She simply shook her head.

"That doesn't matter much." He laid the blade flat against her face. "Because I already have her back." A painful line found its way from her eye downwards.

"Do you know, why I use a knife??"

She closed her eyes and waited for it to stop. As eternities go, it was a short one, short and red-hot. But it did end - finally.

 

Week 5: In Joy and Sorrow



1. Wood

"I am sorry." She knelt at the grave, staring at the ground. "It's all my fault, I know, but I swear, he will not win."

The wooden cross offered no reply, no support, no consolation. She knew that there was just a small chance for her to ever see the final gravestone. But it didn't matter. He had taken his secret with him. And she would not give it up either.

Just this once, she would use it - to get rid of the Joker.

"I know my chances," she chuckled sadly, playing with the upturned soil. "See you soon."




2. Metal

Knives - how she hated them. And he was full of them. Carefully she circled the Joker, feeling awkward in her disguise that was made to fit a bigger man. "Let's get this over with!" Of course, her voice was nothing like the original's.

"So, how many of you are there?" he laughed. For a man facing a duel, he was rather unconcerned.

She pulled him close at his shirt. "Enough!" she snarled.

A knife bounced of the black armour and suddenly she realised that the suit had no means on it to kill. She would need - a knife.




3. Cloth

Beautiful, that was the only way to describe Rachel Dent in her wealth of white silk. And no matter how much of a cliché it was, her smile outshone everything. There was no trace that, maybe, once, there had been another man that had mattered in her life. And that he had died recently.

But it didn't matter now. Her decision had been set even before his death and such was the power of love; It could tide one through everything. With a sigh, the woman snuck away from the reception. At least happiness was still possible - for others.



4. Glass

This was not going well. Not at all. Once the Joker had realised that she had no weapon, there was no getting one from him. He was an unbearable tease, taking the blade to the suit repeatedly, even though it was useless, just to get it into her reach.

But she could not admit defeat - could not. She had to overcome him any way possible. The floor-length window loomed behind him. She took a run-up and crashed into him, using his body as a shield against the splintering glass. She chuckled when she realised how absurd that really was.



5. Stone

It's the last thing she saw, approaching with increasing velocity. But it was okay. She clung to his lapels, closing her eyes. At least, she wouldn't die alone; she'd never wanted to die alone. The laughter followed her into the confines of her head. Carefree, as if this was a really good joke. But then the joke was on her.

The suit could take a lot of damage, but this would be too much. Right?

-

There was a single yellow rose, wilted on a grave. Replaced in silence, for the joke had been on her. But so had the Joker.

 

Whatever. I will post all twenty weeks. Nothing can stop me.
<insert mad laughter here>




Week 6: Fairy Tale for One



1. Arm

Wasn't your life supposed to hang from a thread? She looked up and considered her situation. His arm looked strong enough to hold on forever. Better than a thread then, she decided.

"Hold on!" he commanded, his dark voice rasping in her ears.

She nodded, trying not to stare into his dark eyes. She knew those eyes, she was sure of that. And one day she would place them.

"Thank you." She allowed herself to lean against him for a moment. The suit was cold and hard, but it didn't matter. There would be a day?

"He went that way."



2. Leg

"Run!" he commanded.

And she did. As fast as she could, she spurted towards the stairs. Just as she reached them a machine gun went off behind her. She jumped down the first flight of stairs, then stopped catching her breath, and listening for sounds of pursuit. There were none.

It had been his voice, and if she had taken the time, she would certainly have seen his eyes, too. The pieces fell into place. Bruce Wayne. Only that he already loved another.

Her legs gave in and she sagged to the ground. So much for the day to come.



3. Antennae

Of course, it was illegal to tune into the phone net, but she couldn't help it. There was too much going on and nobody bothered to tell her anything. So she kept herself informed. You just had to know how to tweak the antennae to do as you pleased.

She heard it all.

She wished she hadn't.

But there was only one thing that could be done, and nobody around to do it. But for Gotham she could be a killer. For Bruce, she could.

Disconnecting her mobile from a nearby antenna, she made her way to Gotham General Hospital.




4. Claw

There was no way out. Her eyes darted from Harvey to the Joker and back, from the gun he held to the door, to the window. She hadn't expected to end up in the claws of death and insanity.

At least, she could now blame Harvey's death on the Joker. If she got out before the hospital blew up.

Dent was beyond saving, physically and mentally, and he had clawed at her when she had given him the injection. Probably believed it to be painkillers. He was right, too, in a way.

His pain would be over forever. She bolted.



5. Tail

So this was it.

She watched the burning sky wondering what would be next. Maybe no more Batman, he was not needed right now. A break, some peace. Maybe some mopping up where the police could not go, but that would be it.

She rested her head against his shoulder. "Will you miss it?"

"A bit," he conceded putting his arm around her. "You will have to offer me something as interesting as chasing criminals in the dead of night."

"I am considering it, Bruce," she grinned. "I am considering it."

They did watch the fireworks until the end, though.

 

This feels oddly like an ARG...and I mean that in the best way possible!

 

Scary but also sweet. I really like the last one

 

Argh! Replies! Just when I thought I'd get all of them drabbles onto one page...

Thanks for telling me what an ARG is, Penguinator. I only knew that other version so far (argh!). Glad you think I'm doing fine here.

NYCitygurl - They're just how I like my coffe: dark, sweet, intesne, and making my pulse race. Yeah, finally managed a kind of happy end for the last one.

---

[u][b]Week 7: Not so very different?[/b][/u]



[u]1. Door[/u]

Well, they're all locked here; locked and you don't get through them a lot. But that's okay, it's boring in here.

They should be used for great entrances or quick exits. Crashing a party with style and a roaring machine gun, that's good use of a door. Backing out of one, all eyes on you and having your life hanging from a thread - and theirs too. There is [i]drama [/i] in them. Make it show!

And they are always the last thing between somebody and his objective.

Like me and freedom right now. But we'll see about that soon enough?.




[u]2. Window[/u]

Such a bad choice of words indeed. Batman's just incredibly funny, and too stuck up to enjoy it any. Poor sucker. And how he threw himself after her. I'm still laughing.

Not that I expected him to throw himself after me that way, too. Let's face it, I'm not his girl. Yes, he did save me, but that's just because he's too screwed up to kill. And he was not half as chivalric as towards Rachel. It doesn't count, if you ask me.

But he was right about one thing; I think I love him. He's just so much fun.


[u]3. Roof[/u]

They're his and may he keep them. I am not that fond of heights, always so tempted to jump and see if I can fly. Oh well, he can. Funny, right?

I've always been more down to earth. You can easily lose it when you're not well grounded. He lost it for sure. It's cute, kinda; dressing up as a flying rat and beating up bad guys in the night. Sounds fun and makes me laugh; stranger things have happened. And as long as he was up there, I had pretty free hand down here.

There's a downside to everything.



[u]4. Walls[/u]

They are so confining in here. Walls, walls, walls, wherever you look. And nobody bothered to decorated them in any way. They don't let me, either. Okay, maybe they're scared of handing a pencil over to me, but there's other way to get colour to a wall. Of course, you have to be determined enough to break your own skin with your teeth. But I am [i]supposed [/i] to be mad, what's the difference?

So, no pictures for me, and they wiped away my attempts, too. Not even a tiny red spot left. It's boring me to death. Stupid, stupid walls.



[u]5. Floor[/u]

It approached so fast, I was sure I'd die. And it wasn't a pleasant sensation at all to be pulled back into the world of the living by my leg. I don't want to know what forces acted on it, but it did hurt like hell.

Batman, he just can't kill.

And he left me hanging there, [i]like [/i] a Christmas decoration. I like Christmas decorations, the glass is so thin and when it breaks -

Anyway, Arkahm. It's not so bad, if only - who was I fooling? Except everybody. The woman in the mirror sneered right back at me.

 

Creepy but also kinda sad.

 

It was supposed to be creepy, NYCitygurl. TDK has such a dark atmosphere, lightening it up seems almost like betrayal.


So here I am betraying my DK.
These have actually been spawned by the prompts, no squeezing an already existing idea into them.

---

[u][b]Week 8: Almost FuturePerfect[/b][/u]



[u]1. Chancellor [/u]

"He okayed it."

"You're joking."

"No, we're ready to go, and officially sweep the streets of Gotham clean." Harvey Dent placed a stack of document on her desk.

Eyeing it she asked, "you know that in old time the bringer of bead new was severely punished?"

"What do you have to threaten me with?" He raised an eyebrow.

In a mock-threatening gesture she raised her right hand.

"Been there already," he grinned, feeling the scar tissue in his left side. It still hurt from time to time when he stretched it too far, but that didn't happen very often nowadays.




[u]2. Queen [/u]

'Queen of Pain', that's what he called her, and though he meant it in a nice way, she winced at it each time. At least, he was by now joking about it.

She had done it unthinkingly, of course. Nothing in the world could have made her slap his burnt face consciously. There was murder in his eyes and she saw her own death approaching.

Then he snapped.

Placing his hand against the burnt side he had felt its ruined structure; it came off again bloody. As had her hand, and she couldn't remember ever having cried so hard before.




[u]3. Senator [/u]

"He's what?" she asked incredulously.

"Anthony Garcia is running for senator," Harvey confirmed. "Says that cleaning up in Gotham has prepared him for anything you could throw at him."

"But that was us," she objected. "With the help of the batman-"

"I know, and so does he." Harvey was still smiling.

"Oh Harvey, you should take more credit for what you do," she scolded.

"I have all the credit I eve need," he said pointing at his scar tissue covered left. It was healing well, but it still looked raw and painfully new.

"I'll let him then," she gave in.




[u]4. Aide [/u]

She would not fool herself by trying to believe she was anything more than that. The Aide, the helping hand, the back-up. There was no doubt that even now he still hurt. But that was okay. She would be there. Nobody hurt forever, and he would be worth waiting for.

"Where would I be without you now?" he asked.

"In the same place but with a different aide?" she teased pointing a finger at him. "But don't you believe for a second I'd allow that to happen."

He chuckled and she savoured the rare moment without pain in his eyes.



[u]5. Guard [/u]

He was still there, silent, and vigilant, watching over the night from his hight vantage points. But he had become but invisible, connected to the city only by a few threads. And it worked.

The criminals were not simply afraid of the batman anymore, now they were scared because without his name ever falling, they ended up in custody.

She sipped on her glass looking from Bruce to Harvey. "Come on, we all know who's delivering those criminals to the police all bundled up."

"But he never claims credit for any of it."

"And that makes him a real hero."

 

I'm so proud I cold burst. Five songfics in five drabbles.

---

[u][b]Week 9: Colourized[/b][/u]



[u]1. Purple [/u]

[i]Start wearing purple wearing purple[/i]

And the overcoat felt strange under her fingers, and his face almost recognisable under the make up. Where had he gone to?

[i]Start wearing purple for me now[/i]

She still saw who he had been, and he remember well enough to pick up the dance where they left it. Did that matter?

[i]All you sanity and wits they will all vanish[/i]

Their past was just as real as many others, lost in the vortex of images.

[i]I promise[/i]

But how would either now be able to keep the promise?

[i]It's just a matter of time[/i]




[u]2. Orange [/u]

The morning sky burned brightly, sending its searing light through the window right at her. She closed her eyes.

[i]Catch your breath
And forget what happened last night [/i]

How could she? How dared she? Was it worth it?
But she had had to try, had been right to try. All could not be lost, could it?

There was movement behind her and unconsciously her hand went to her jaw. The thin line was still there, and it hurt, mentally more than it had ever cut her physically.

[i]You don't know my face
You don't know my name
Under the knife[/i]




[u]3. Green[/u]

The blotches still danced before here eyes, green, green, and green, because it was the com-plementary colour of what she had seen.

[i]And I can't get it out of my head,[/i]

If only there was a way to unsee it. If only she could get her old naiveté back, if only.

[i]No, I can't get it out of my head.[/i]

But there wasn't. And she knew that there was no way back to innocence. It had been an eye-opener, a decision, and one that was easy to keep under the green after-images.

[i]Now my old world is gone for dead[/i]




[u]4. Silver[/u]

It wasn't all bad. There had to be a bright side. If he was cared for - when she turned him in - there would be help; there would be hope.

[i]find a silver line[/i]

Even if she had to give up now, that didn't mean she had to give up forever, right? He would-n't agree, maybe not for a long time. Maybe he could never forgive. But he needed help. She knew, because she knew him.

[i]For any day that stings two better days it brings[/i]

That she had to believe. There had to be hope at the horizon.




[u]5.Copper[/u]

[i]No colours anymore I want them to turn black[/i]

There was no turning back. The Police Department loomed before her and she knew who to turn to. She had cut the painter, no past, no present - future? -

[i]Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts[/i]

How had it happened? How did it go so far? But Gordon would pick up that shard of her past, brush off the paint and - whatever it was that the police did to criminal maniacs. This was right. She had to, and still...

[i]I wanna see your face[/i]



[u]The Songs:[/u]

1: Start Wearing Purple - Gogol Bordello
2: Under the Knife - The Deep Eynde
3: Can't get it out of my Head - Electric Light Orchestra
4: Master of the Wind - Manowar
5: Paint It Black - The Rolling Stones