JULY PROMPT

[Jenna Wright]

I promised myself this time that I wouldn't stay up late to finish this one........ That failed. (It's 4:33 at the time of this edit) Btw, hate the ending but love the beginning.
(that was almost a My Chem reference)

Name: Crow
Characters: (In order of appearance) John Blake (mentioned), Amelia Blake (mentioned), Matthew Reid (mentioned), Vapour (mentioned - not by name), Harley Quinn (mentioned), Joker (mentioned), Unnamed mayor, Dylan Carrero, Ryan Morgan, Jane Reid (not by name), Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson (mentioned as Nightwing), Tim Drake (mentioned as Red Robin), Barbara Gordon (mentioned as Batgirl), Harvey Dent/Two-Face (mentioned), The Avengers (mentioned), Justice League (mentioned), X-Men (mentioned), Michael Smith, James Wayne, Alyss Blake.
Words: 2944 words (according to Write or Die)
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-words hurt more than anything but silence breaks the heart
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Universes were stacked against each other, tightly packed into the possibility space wherein every new life and every death brought about a new world. A world where someone wasn't born in that time or where someone hadn't died. A world where someone had never been born or someone had never made that one choice which had turned their lives upside down. For example, in one universe, John Blake had come back from the dead to find his wife had moved on in the belief that he would never come back while in another he had never died. In another universe, he hadn't been born yet while in yet another he had been born hundreds of years ago in England and had grown up to invade what is now known as America, bringing about the enslavement of the people who had lived peacefully in 'America' for thousands of years and becoming the face of colonisation. In the mirroring universe to that one, the invading hadn't gone as planned and the native 'Americans' had killed John Blake along with the rest of the invading body in defence and those who hadn't been killed had been sent back to England with the bodies or had been enslaved - as they had been planning to do to the people they had been trying to invade - because they had been stupid or greedy enough to even attempt such a thing.

But beside a universe where John Blake died in Amelia Blake's arms, causing her to become suicidal and depressed and thus also causing her to attract the attention of Matthew Reid, who was worried as to her health, which caused the pair to meet and also caused Amelia Blake to have support in the form of a friend who became more than a friend as time moved on and Amelia moved on and many things happened in a short space of time and age increased slowly through all of this. Beside this universe where currently a certain doctor was mentally, subconsciously, fighting a shadow without too much luck with winning, there was another world. There was a world that mirrored this universe. Another world which was stacked against the one in which loved ones had died and time had moved on. A world where Harleen Quinzel had not accepted the button. A world where Joker had actually died, instead of merely biding his time until he decided his grand return would be most welcome or unwelcome. A world where Harley Quinn was the greatest threat against peace in Gotham City. A world where explosions were constant and half of the city had been blown to Hell and back.

The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane was no longer an impressive silhouette on the skyline. It was now a pile of rubble and bodies that hadn't been pulled out yet. Bodies of doctors, of patients, of guards, of staff, of visitors... None had left the ruined building. All had died - there had been no survivors - but none had physically left the building. Rescue teams hadn't been able to get close enough to remove the rotting, decaying shells that had, at one point, been living, breathing humans. Harley Quinn's bombs had kept everyone far enough away that the asylum had been left to rot under its own insanity plagued walls that had collapsed. Some people had suggested going to Bruce Wayne for help, for ways of getting to the dead, but all ideas had been shot down by the mayor.

"We cannot afford to go near the asylum." The mayor said clearly, cameras flashing at him as he stood upon a podium, preaching to his audience about money and about the future. An orange haired woman stood with her hand raised. He nodded to her, obviously not interested in what she had to say, and she lowered her hand before standing on her chair.

"Why don't we get the rich in this city to help? There were innocent people in that asylum! They deserve a proper burial!"

Cheers followed this from the people around the woman and she remained stood. Next to her, a well built man stood.

"Family members, friends... Don't they deserve closure?" He demanded, and once again cheers and applauding broke out amongst the assembled group. "We deserve more!" The man said loudly. The woman stood on the chair next to his nodded along with her arms crossed.

"Bury the dead and let people deal with it! The city will tear itself apart with anger and grief otherwise." Another woman - a red haired woman - called out. The mayor, obviously now uncomfortable with what they were saying, shook his head.

"We cannot borrow from the rich!"

"Because of your pride?" The red haired woman spat, now standing. "This is ridiculous! Your over-inflated ego isn't helping anyone." She stated, pointing at him. "This is your mess."

"Exactly! Your mess and the innocent people of Gotham are paying for it!" The orange haired woman was back on her feet. "Maybe we should make you pay for it." She suggested before looking around for support. The others around her cheered and a dark haired man walked to the mayor before talking in his ear. Everyone hushed as Bruce Wayne took the place of the mayor.

"Arkham Asylum is a death trap-"

"It always has been!"

"Please, let me finish Ms Carrero." He smiled gently at her before the smile dropped. "Arkham Asylum is a death trap because of Harley Quinn. I agree, we should give the dead a proper burial, but it's not practical until Ms Quinn is caught." He paused for a moment while looking around at the silent crowd. Dylan was shaking her head while sitting with her arms crossed.

"That would be a lot easier if Harley Quinn hadn't blown up the GCPD." She stated loudly as though merely commenting on the news. Bruce nodded along.

"That is true, which is why we need to reach out to those who can help." He said, his voice rising above mumbles and whispers as people began to realise who he was talking about.

"Harley Quinn is above them! Don't you watch the news, Mister Wayne?" The red haired woman was back on her feet, her arms crossed over her corset-clad ribs before she leaned forward and placed her hands on the back of the chair in front of her, her red hair hanging from its resting place on her shoulder. "Nightwing is dead. Red Robin is missing. Even Batgirl's disappeared! Who else do we rely on? Oracle? Batman? Do we start reaching out to some of the criminals?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. Dylan laughed in her seat.

"That would be cheerful." The young woman commented. "'Hi Two-Face, sorry for putting you in Arkham so many times but do you want to help us catch Harley Quinn?'" She said loudly to laughter from the people in the audience. Even Bruce gave a small laugh and rubbed at an itch on his nose while shaking his head.

"That's a bad idea." He stated while still smiling a little. "But I'm talking about others. Not criminals, I would never suggest such a thing, but people with money! Maybe we could reach out to heroes."

"Yeah, I'm sure the Avengers would love to take the time out of their busy schedule to come and save a failing city." Dylan blurted out sarcastically. A small number of the crowd laughed while others shook their heads, possibly thinking the same thing.

"There are many groups - it's not just the Avengers. There are the Avengers, but there's also the Justice League, the X-Men..." He trailed off, his gaze moving over the crowd. Many were shaking their heads, though another dark haired man caught Bruce's attention.

"How would we get hold of them? An X-signal? A special phone? Maybe we could do it via e-mail..." The Irishman suggested mockingly. Bruce shifted where he was stood, familiar with the shorter male. The mayor shook his head and moved to take back over the talking.

"We are not involving more people in costumes. This is impractical." The mayor stated bluntly. "End of story."

Weeks had passed since then and the Irishman had stirred up quite a bit of a rebellion towards the mayor and Bruce Wayne. He had taken on a theatrical but realistic role in Gotham's business world. He was Wayne Enterprises' main competitor without much trying on his part and was growing in Gotham's unstable, criminal underworld too. He wasn't trying to be the leader there, though. Harley Quinn knew what she was doing and the dark haired man wasn't planning on stealing her crown, so to speak. He didn't want her money. He didn't want her crown. He was rather hoping to team up with her, actually, and help her burn the city down. His hopes and plans were being kept exceedingly hush-hush, though, as he worked his way up the ladder of Gotham City. Rebellions started somewhere, and Michael was pleased to be the one starting it, even if it wouldn't last too long.

Staring at James Wayne with distaste, the theatrical Irishman raised an eyebrow. James shifted ever so slightly in his seat, though said nothing. When it became obvious that the other male would not be talking, Mister Smith sat up properly and leaned on the table between them, his dark gaze remaining on the younger male unblinkingly.

"What do you want, Mister Wayne?" The elder male asked after a moment of silence, continuing to watch the other man as he looked at Michael. His light blue eyes held a hint of annoyance and anger at the other man, though he said nothing regarding any annoyance or anger that he felt and instead shifted ever so slightly in his seat.

"I want you gone." James stated, his voice full of demand as his eyes flicking between red and blue, his changing gaze remaining locked onto the other man. Michael raised an eyebrow as though interested in what James could possibly say next, leaning back in his chair while reaching for a cup on the desk between the two of him, his little finger brushing on the rim of the saucer as he picked up the cup securely and took a sip. James, realising that the other man was expecting more, sat up a little, leaning forward. "Disappear."

"From the world or from your world? This isn't your kingdom, little boy." Michael stated as he put the cup down, not watching James until after he'd put the cup back down. James shook his head, looking somehow angrier than before. Michael smiled coldly, sitting comfortably while watching James. "Harley Quinn doesn't want me gone."

"Joker did."

Michael nodded with a small laugh, seemingly fond of the memories of Joker wanting or trying to kill him and maybe he was a little fond of the memories. The memories of the clown trying to kill him. There were many reasons for him not to be fond of the memories, and yet he was regardless. James shook his head, obviously disgusted with apparent fondness Michael had for the Clown Prince of Crime. Standing, James looked at Michael without blinking as the other man took another sip of tea.

"Disappear, Michael, otherwise I'll make you."

Leaving the threat hanging heavy in the air, James made his way to the door as Michael hid his amused expression behind his cup, not looking at James as he left the room and shut the door loudly behind him, not quite slamming it but certainly not shutting it like most people would. The Irishman smirked as he put his cup down on his saucer and slicked back his already perfect hair smugly, obviously thinking about the American's threat. The Clown Prince had never out-right threatened Michael, and now this boy - this wolf - was. The human couldn't help laughing softly at the very idea...

---

Alyss shook her head, unable to believe - or perhaps unwilling to believe - that her husband had done what he had just told her he'd done. Looking at him, she considered speaking for a moment before she shook her head wordlessly and paced in front of him.

"He's my employer."

"He's an idiot." James snarled, obviously irritated with the topic of conversation. His wife shook her head again, seemingly deciding what to say or, at the very least, how to word it.

"He may be an idiot," She began, not actually believing what she was saying for a second as she didn't consider her boss to be an idiot. "but he's powerful and he's an assassin." She stated, looking at the man in front of her now. "Did you forget that?" She asked, looking at him expectantly. When he didn't answer, Alyss shook her head. "Idiot." She hissed about her husband, who looked rather offended and glared at her.

"What?"

Turning on him, the brunette wore an expression of disbelief crossed with annoyance.

"He is going to kill you."

"He didn't even consider it." James replied dismissively. "You seem to think he knows how to hide things. He doesn't. He's stupid and you're not much better." He said harshly. Alyss stepped forward and slapped James hard across the face, her anger now obvious.

"You, James Wayne, are an ignorant moron." She snarled, her voice shaking with anger. "And when you die, I don't know whether or not I'll be dancing on your grave."

"Make sure it's to good music," James began, standing up and moving towards the door. "everything you listen to is crap." He finished simply as he walked through the door and outside to the world beyond while Alyss resisted the urge to throw something heavy at his back.

---

Storming down the street, James kept his eyes ahead of him as they turned from blue to red and back again repeatedly. The change was quick each time, barely staying on one colour for long enough for it to register on anyone else's mind, probably. He shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping his gaze ahead. Not even when there was a noise near-by. His hands tightened into fists in his pockets, though he knew they wouldn't get a chance to do much if someone tried to attack him.

A figure came out of the shadows ahead of him and James raised an eyebrow as he realised who it was and smirked. He didn't stop walking, though noticed as he drew closer to the other person that they didn't seem to be planning on moving either. He didn't mind. That would give him a reason to rip them apart, after all.

Despite the shadows and ever so slight light, James noticed a smirk on the figure's features. His lips pulled into a snarl as he stopped walking, his hands leaving his pockets. The figure began to move forward, drawing closer to the American and making James increasingly uneasy as he heard the thoughts.

Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill.

James took a step back, now certainly unsettled. Trying to shake the feeling away, he stepped forward again and stood as tall as he could.

"What are you doing here?" James asked, cursing his voice momentarily for sounding uncertain for a second. The smirk on the figure grew after the boy's words and he became aware that the figure had heard the uncertainty.

"What do you think I'm doing here, Wolf?"

"Getting close to getting your ass kicked." James answered, trying to sound like he could do it. The laugher in the figure's head made him want to run, though. Made him want to run in the opposite direction and pray that he could survive. The figure drew closer. The thoughts grew louder. The laughter became more unsettling. James' gaze turned to the dark pits that had to be eyes and he saw... Nothing. Cold, dark abysses stared back. The darkness began to swallow him. Began to drown him. Within moments, pain tore through his throat. More injuries came after, each one providing its own agony. Each one drawing more blood. Each one getting him closer to the desired point...

---

The sun rose over Gotham city, illuminating the sky with an orange glow that seemed to touch everything. Turning over in bed, Alyss opened her eyes and found herself looking at an empty bed. She sat up and got out of bed, thinking that James would be in the living room of their somewhat small flat. Walking into the living room, though, she found it empty. After a small search around their flat, Alyss found herself panicking. She knew he had been angry, but he wouldn't just leave... Or, she didn't think he would, though those thoughts were being questioned with each passing second.

Half an hour passed. Then an hour. Then two hours.

As the hours passed, Alyss waited in the living room, alternating between pacing and sitting on the sofa nervously. She was sure he would come back, though was also certain he wasn't out of choice. The silence slowly began to bore into her skull, twisting through her mind as she considered the idea that maybe he had left. That maybe the argument the night before had caused him to leave her. The idea was breaking her heart, though not once did she consider that what she'd said - that what she'd warned him of - could possibly be true. Her thoughts were too busy with the idea that he had chosen to leave her. That he had decided things were too much. Eventually, her thoughts dropped onto the idea that he had gone to kill her employer. Standing, Alyss shook her head and moved to exit the flat, deciding to find out which of the two had been left standing, if that was the case...

[Kaveh Andari]

Name: Silence
Characters: Veronica Shatter, Michael Smith, Jenna Wright, Silas Mortimer, Dylan Carerro, John Blake, Hadley Jones, Matthew Reid, Amelia Blake, James Wayne, Vapour.
Words: 2157 words
Warning: Contains harsh language, violence and sadness.

--

Dark Side

Sometimes, something happens that shakes the universe to it's core and sometimes these 'somethings' cause cracks to appear in the fine line dividing one universe from the next. When James Wayne lost control and succeeded in blowing up the whole of Gotham, everything changed. The world as we knew it fell away, replaced by a sick new reality. The universe we all know is no more, those people all dead and gone - except for one. Arkham Asylum staff member, Matthew Reid was sucked into a new reality, one where the woman he cared deeply for was Gotham's deadliest foe.

But somehow he knows that this Anastasia Odette Leroux is Amelia Raven Blake, the woman who staggered into his life and swept away with his heart.

However, he's never seen the full extent of her dark side...

But, is this dark side really hers?

---

Lounging on the sofa in her (somewhat) boyfriend's flat, Veronica Shatter rolled her eyes at the screen of the TV. "We gonna get that little blonde bitch outta the way?" She called into the kitchen, leaning her head back to peer towards the location of her short Irish boyfriend, the whole rest of the flat upside down.

The short male chuckled, shrugging as he turned to glance at her, in a bright pink apron - it was Wednesday - which caused Veronica to laugh, throwing her head forward for a moment, giggling to herself before somehow managing to compose herself and glancing back at him. "The evil witch doesn't matter, dear," he smirked a bit, walking over and handing her a cup of tea.

Roni shifted, taking the mug and crossing her arms across the back of the sofa, setting her chin down and looking up at him with a somewhat amused smile as she took a sip from the tea. For a moment there was a small little silence and then she turned, setting down the bug and sitting up, pulling Michael Smith closer by his tie. "You doing anything at the moment?" She whispered seductively, winking.

"Actually I'm cooking, dear."

She rolled her eyes, "Your cooking can wait." She slid her hands up his arms to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"It's going to burn."

She sat back, pouting a bit. "Fine, go save your food," she muttered, turning her back to him and sinking into the sofa again.

Michael turned and casually walked away, fixing his tie as he went, not hearing when Veronica muttered, "Un-affectionate asshole."

---

Her head was heavy against his chest, her breathing steady and her eyes peacefully closed. Silence lingered over the pair for a moment as he gently ran his fingers slowly through her blonde hair. A small smile flickered across his lips as he shifted a bit, returning his arm around her shoulder and rubbing it a bit before closing his eyelids over bright blue eyes. He was just surrendering to sleep when the cell phone on the nightstand went off with a loud, obnoxious ring, causing the S.H.E.I.L.D. agent to jolt upwards and his girlfriend to stir, eyelids flickering upon to reveal a somewhat irritated look.

"What the fuck, Silas?" she groaned.

Silas glanced apologetically at her, picking up the phone and answering. "Mortimer," he spoke tiredly into the phone, sitting up a little straighter, rubbing his temple to ward off the on coming headache.

"Guess what," the voice spoke into the phone, somewhat cheerfully.

Silas growled, "What the bloody hell was so important that you had to call me at five in the morning, Carrero?"

"We got her."

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf? We got her! We got Leroux!"

The British agent was fully awake now. "How?"

"Well, we haven't exactly caught her yet but...we've lured her right into a trap."

His hope fled. "Trap? Blondie's too smart to fall into a trap."

He heard her sigh on the other side. "You have no faith," she replied, "just get your lazy ass down here."

"Where exactly is here?"

"Town-square, idiot."

And the other line went dead.

Silas glanced at it for a moment before shaking his head and moving to get out of bed, being stopped by his girlfriend's hand on his arm.

"She's dangerous," murmured Jenna Wright.

"I know."

"You better fuckin' come home, Silas."

He offered a faint smile, kissing her lips gently. "I'll be home later, you won't even have time to miss me."

She gave him a tired and doubtful look.

"Promise."

She nodded faintly, pulling him down to kiss him passionately for a moment before pushing him back, turning her back on him and closing her eyes.

Silas watched her for a brief moment before rising and going to get ready. When he was done, he walked out into the garage, slipping into his car and backing out, heading towards the square where he was to meet Dylan Carrero and the rest of the team he was currently working with.

---

"Sh-She's not like this."

The doctor's words rang through John Blake's head as he went to meet Silas Mortimer at the caution tape.

"You gonna let me in on this brilliant plan?" asked the agent, irritably, slipping beneath the tape and falling into step with Blake.

John glanced at him, narrowing his eyes. "Commissioner's dead," he said and for a moment silence fell over the pair, the agent's face shocked and somewhat sad.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Who-"

"Commissioner!" a reporter tried to push their way towards Blake and Mortimer. "What does it feel like to be in the place James Gordon occupied for so long?"

Silas glanced up and his mouth nearly dropped. "Jones!?" He exclaimed in shock.

"Fucker," growled the female officer that fell into step beside them. "Someone give me a god damn gun so I can shoot his brains out."

"Right now might be a good time to shut up, Dylan," John muttered as Hadley fucking Jones gave a grin towards them.

"Can I smack that stupid smile off his face?"

"Dylan!"

"You know you'd like me to."

"Yes, I'd like you to but you can't."

"Dammit."

"Anyway," Silas broke in, his head pounding, "what's this plan?"

"The doctor," said Dylan.

The agent arched a brow.

"He keeps saying she's not like this."

"How the hell does he know?"

"Exactly."

"So what is he, like bait or something?"

Dylan paused. "You could say that."

Silas sighed, glancing over at where Matthew Reid was standing alone, looking as though he was going to flee at any moment. The agent sighed and moved to the doctor's side. "You think you can talk to her?"

Matthew glanced towards him, brown eyes sad and incredibly confused. "I-I think so..." he replied softly, his voice shaking a little. "I-I keep thinking this... this is some dream..." He murmured, as though talking to himself.

The British agent arched a brow, crossing his arms. "Why?" He demanded.

The doctor shrugged. "Nothing seems right."

---

Anastasia Odette Leroux was perched on a building, her eyes looking down upon the scene below her. Something twinged in her when her blue eyes, cold with hatred, fell upon the mangled body of Commissioner Gordon. She didn't know what she had felt when she shoved the knife up into his rib cage, tearing it out. The pain that surged through her at the sight of his blood on her hands had come from nowhere.

A sigh slid through her lips as a faint breeze brushed her unique coppery hair into her face, for a moment hiding the coldness of her eyes from the world.

What was even stranger was that when her eyes fell upon a brown haired man standing at the edge of the scene her heart beat quickened. She didn't understand why, it didn't make sense, she'd never seen him before.

But she had; in a dream from long ago, when she dreamed of the future.

His fate was in her hands, but the question was, could she change the future?

---

"A-Amelia!?"

Amelia?

Why did that name cause her breath to catch?

"I-...It's Matthew..."

Matthew.

Why did that name cause her heart to skip?

She jumped from the building, landing with a cat like grace in front of him, causing him to jump in surprise. "What do you want?" she snarled, walking closer and pulling a knife from her belt.

His eyes widened a bit and he stepped back, putting his hands up. He couldn't get anything out he was stuttering so bad.

She laughed, throwing her head back and letting her laugh echo throughout the alley. "Cat got your tongue?" she smirked, leaping forward and shoving the knife into his rib cage, twisting it as she aimed it upwards towards his heart.

Shock fell across his features as his blood gushed out, staining her hands. Betrayal flickered through his eyes as she tore the knife out, stepping away from him, watching with cold blue eyes as he fell to a heap on the ground, bleeding out as she watched.

Black smoke slipped from her pores, pain erupting through her. She screamed, black streaming in long dark tendrils from her open mouth. She choked, coughing, tears springing to her eyes as pain raced through her body, taking over and pushing her into the darkness, welcoming and cold.

The world fell away, disintegrating into ash and silence, blood pooling around the still body of Matthew Spencer Reid, his eyes staring in shock up into the sky, the last few tormented gasps falling into the air.

A black shadowy form materialized beside the boy with the glowing red eyes. Together shadow and chaos had destroyed the world, building a make believe universe where a blonde angel was a coppery demon, and where a doctor's love wasn't enough to save the angel from darkness.

"Matthew!!!"

She screamed, she screamed and sobbed, pulling him into her lap and holding him against her chest, sobs racking her body. "Matthew, Matthew, please..." His blood was all over her hands, her heart shattering at the silence around them, the silence that slipped through his bloodied lips. Brushing it away with tender fingers, she kissed him, wanting to feel the gentleness of his kiss back, but there was nothing. Her eyes met his far away eyes of brown, her vision blurring as more tears poured from her blue eyes.

She'd never see him grin again, she'd never see his eyes twinkle again, and she'd never see his figure fading into the distance as he walked away; and it hurt. She'd never hear his voice again, she'd never hear his laugh again, and she'd never hear his firm hand knocking upon her door again; and it hurt. She'd never feel the his lips capture hers again, she'd never feel his hand knit tightly into hers again, and she'd never feel his fingers in her hair again; and it hurt. She'd never smell his skin against hers again, she'd never smell the clean scent of his shampoo again, and she'd never smell the dinner he'd make her again; and it hurt.

It hurt a hundred times worse that it was all her fault.

Her heart seemed to stop beating, suspended in a moment, a time when Matthew's laugh rang out through the house, a time when his lips gently captured hers, a time when his arms were forever around her and their fingers were forever laced. A time when their passion burned within the deepest depths of their souls, a time when there was no worrisome thoughts about the inevitable future, a time when they were content to just lay in the other's arms. A time when they weren't saying goodbye, a time when tears were too afraid of their happy attitudes to fall, and a time when they mended each other's breaking hearts.

But now, there would be no more laughing, no more joking, no more simple enjoying the other's presence. But now, there would be no more kissing, no more cuddling, no more hugging. But now, there would be no more hellos and goodbyes, no more good-nights and good morning, no more wishing for his arms around her in the dead of night and rejoicing when they once again fell around her.

Now there was only one final goodbye.

There would be no more phone calls, and no more text messages. No more just simply being their selves and just having fun. She would never get to tell him how much he really meant to her. She would never get to tell him how much of her he really held in his gentle grip; because he was gone, and he was never coming back; never. His death hit her with so much more force than John's had. Now, all Amelia Blake wanted to do was lie down, close her eyes and never open them again.

Now, there was just an endless supply of tears and pain.

And a soul breaking silence, hovering in the smokey air.