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Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?	By : JustMeAgain Category: zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] > Batman (All Movies) > Batman (All Movies) Views: 1631 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from DC comics, the Batman franchise (comics or Nolan-verse), I don't own The Crow or any of the songs mentioned in this story. The only tihing I own is the original character. I make no money from any of this.

Chapter List
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~~~~~ 2009 ~~~~~
On the afternoon of the thirtieth, Devil’s Night, I met up with Leon and Gob again. There was a snag with the guns. Leon knew another guy who could provide, but it was going to cost more. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the money. Even if I burned through the fifty grand I had plenty more in the bank. "Leon, if you are dicking me around..."
"No, ma’am, Boss Lady. Gun runners spook easy. It’s self-preservation. I get you yo’ guns. Gob will stay here wit’ you. Insurance." Leon offered. We’d met at Rossi’s Delicatessen this time instead of the old polo grounds. Gob’s hair covered his face, as usual, and he picked at a scab on one of his long arms.
"Fine. We’ll wait here." I agreed. Leon could tell I was angry. He didn’t wait around. "I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I’m ordering the spaghetti and meatballs. You should have some, too. You’ll need your energy for tonight." I wanted to make it sound like it was part of the mission. I didn’t want him to refuse the food.
"Sure." He shrugged. Relief flooded through me. I was painfully curious about Gob, but I didn’t want to make him nervous.
"You can call me Rebecca if you’d like. Is Gob your real name?"
"Is Rebecca yours?" He countered suspiciously. The waitress came over to take our order.
"It is, but it’s not what J..." I almost called him Jack, "... the Joker calls me."
"What’s the Boss call you?"
"Scarlet." I smiled as I imagined the sound of Jack’s voice calling me by the nickname.
"Boss started calling me Goblin. He said I’m a nasty little monster... it got shortened to Gob." The kid smiled for the first time, and it reminded me of Jack.
"Have you known him long?"
"He caught me breaking into a doughnut shop across the street from a police precinct. He said I had balls. He let me help him poison the ingredients for the doughnuts. He kinda took me in. That was three years ago. How did you meet him?" The waitress returned with our food, and Gob went at it ravenously. I motioned for the waitress to keep the food coming.
"I’ve known him since we were about your age. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years."
"What was he like back then?" He asked around a mouthful of garlic bread. I thought for a moment.
"Like a force of nature."
"You were his girlfriend?" Gob had opened up with the arrival of the food. I took advantage of it.
"Yeah, I was. Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Don’t have much time for girls. Once the Boss is back things will be easier."
"How?"
"He’ll make sure we have a place to stay. There’ll be money for food, we’ll get to do jobs again..." As I watched Gob inhale the spaghetti I imagined Jack looking after the kid. I could just see him showing Gob the proper way to slice a throat without getting your clothes bloody.
"We’ll get him back, and, god forbid, if it falls through we’ll try again. Either way, you’re welcome to stay with me."
"I don’t need no fucking babysitter. I’m fourteen." He smirked. The spaghetti sauce on his face made him look about seven years old.
"I didn’t say you did. If things go south, I’ll need your help. It’ll be easier to keep you close at hand." I played it off.
"Yeah, well... you live alone?"
"Yes."
"I figure the Boss will want someone keeping an eye on his old lady... uh, no offense."
"I’m thirty-two, Gob. When I was fourteen it seemed ancient to me, too."
"So the Boss is the same age as you?"
"Pretty much."
"Does he have a real name? I mean, I’m not stupid enough to use it..." I debated telling the kid the truth. I wanted him to trust me, and Jack was a fairly common first name. I decided it couldn’t do much harm.
"His first name is Jack. If he wants you to know his last name he can tell you. How about some dessert."
**********
There was shuffling outside of his cell. He felt a coil of excitement spring loose in his guts. The Joker couldn’t remember how long he’d been tied to the cot, but he only remembered an orderly coming in once to pour some of the chalky goo down his throat. In his bouts of semi-wakefulness he’d been working on his bonds. He’d worked one hand free, and he intended on tearing out the orderly’s Adam’s apple. The locks on his cell door were disengaging. He tested his fingers to prepare for the attack, but they weren’t cooperating. He gritted his teeth and tried again. "Fuck." He groaned. The cell door rattled open, and he thought he must have fallen back to sleep. Standing above him and working furiously on the straps restraining him was Scarlet. She wore her purple velvet dress, the one from Friday the thirteenth, and the black and white striped gloves. "Sc... Scarlet?" His voice didn’t want to cooperate any more than his fingers, but it was at least effectual. She turned to him and gave him a wide smile.
"We’re getting you out of here." She told him.
"Can’t move." He forced the words out. Worry furrowed her brow, and he could see the fine lines around her eyes. Her hair was shorter, too. This was Scarlet, but she was no memory. She was flesh and hair, blood and bone, and she was breaking him out.
"Leon, you’re gonna have to carry him. I’ll take out anyone who gets in the way."
"Move." Leon muscled her aside. "Hey, Boss. Don’t worry, Gob’s getting your stuff. Can you hold a knife?" When he didn’t respond except to roll his eyes, Leon pressed a switchblade into his hand and curled his fingers around it. He already felt better.
**********
Everything had gone exceptionally well. Leon had gotten the guns. Sergei and Trina had called to say they were ready for my signal. We had two different boosted cars we could escape to, and Leon had even arranged to have a friend with a boat ready to pick us up if we couldn’t get to either vehicle. While Leon had tracked down his buddy with the boat, I’d taken Gob back to my house to finish getting ready. He’d gone over the blueprints for Arkham while I changed into my old dress. I wanted to make sure Jack remembered me, and I hoped the outfit jogged his memory. My boobs weren’t quite as perky as they had been when I was seventeen, but the dress still fit. When I wasn’t so busy breaking people out of asylums for the criminally insane I actually made an effort to work out. As a result my thirty-two year old legs looked pretty damned good still. I laced the cherry red combat boots onto my feet, applied my makeup and slipped on my gloves. When I’d come downstairs Gob had whistled at me. "Nice dress."
"It’s older than you." I smirked back.
"Yeah, but now I see why the Boss liked you enough to call you his girl. He says girlfriends are too needy and time-consuming." Gob explained.
"So he doesn’t have a girlfriend?" I felt extraordinarily foolish, but I asked anyway.
"Nah, he says if you get horny that’s what your hand’s for. I asked him what if you get bored with your hand, and he said that’s why we got two hands, to keep it interesting." Gob snickered then seemed to consider something. "He did say it was cheaper to hire a whore for a blow job than it was to have a girlfriend, so maybe he’s done that." I wanted to laugh, but some motherly instinct I hadn’t realized I’d retained balked at the idea of a fourteen year old getting that kind of advice.
"It all depends on who the girlfriend is, Gob." I said as we prepared to leave.
"Obviously. Who wouldn’t want a hot girlfriend who lives in a mansion." Gob replied, looking around the interior of my brownstone.
"This isn’t a mansion, not when you grow up in the Palisades." I replied as we got in the Prius headed toward the old polo grounds.
"I take back what I said earlier about needing a babysitter. You an’ the Boss can adopt me. Hell, I’ll even take out the trash." He smirked.
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Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?