Scars & Hearts: The Batman Fanfiction

Chapter Thirty-One

The sun would be rising soon, it was just a matter of time. 

Carmen stifled a yawn as she approached her boss, standing behind the bar, mixing a variety of clear alcoholic beverages into an oversized martini glass. Roman's alcohol tolerance was the thing of legends, no doubt. 

Carmen stood in front of the man, clearing her throat. The man looked up before digging into his pockets. "Ah, yes. Excellent work today, Carmella. Absolutely wonderful."

She didn't bother correcting him. She simply reached her hand out, and the crime boss slapped the money into her palm.

"This isn't what we agreed to." Carmen protested, looking at the sad pile of bills in her hand.

Roman shrugged. "Take it up with Zsasz."

She would be doing no such thing. 

Defeated, the songstress made her way through the club metal doors, into the alley.

It wasn't the first time Roman Sionis had screwed her over, nor would it likely be the last.

Some may have questioned why she still worked for the man, and to be frank, she wondered the same thing. Unfortunately, it was a steady gig, and beggars couldn't exactly be choosers. 

She'd always thought the phrase "hair raising" was exaggerated, but as she made her way down the unlit alleyway, she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle to life. It was nearly instinctive. As if her body could tell she was about to be somebody else's prey.

But who?

She looked behind her: nothing. 

She looked in front of her: nothing.

Then behind again, and there he was. 

Her mouth opened but before her throat could even build a scream, a gloved hand covered her mouth.

"Don't scream." he commanded. 

Carmen's heart raced as she took in the man- no, creature- in front of her.

The Batman. 

She nodded. 

The man removed his hand.

"I don't know anything," she huffed. "I just- I'm just a singer. Whatever Roman and Zsasz are doing, I don't know anything about it. I swear to you."

"This isn't about them." the Batman replied, gruffly. "I think you know something about somebody I'm looking for."

Carmen shook her head. "I don't know anything."

"You know something." He continued. "What do you know about the Palmero Brothers?"

Carmen blinked. "Those creeps?"

"So, you know who they are."

"Barely. He used to work for Roman a while back. They cut 'em off." She shrugged. "He was sweet talking."

"Saying?"

Carmen sighed. "Nothing much. Wanted to take me for a date, I said I was working, and he said he could give me a life where I 'didn't have to perform anymore.' or something like that." 

"That's it?" The Batman sounded disappointed.

Carmen shrugged. "He gave me his number."

That seemed to get the man's attention once more. "Still have it."

Carmen nodded, reaching into her dress's pocket (it was one of the reasons she favored the outfit so much), fishing out a piece of paper.

"Here ya go."

The gloved hand took the paper, looking down at the numbers, as if attempting to memorize them.

"Anything else I can help you with?" She asked.

The Batman shook his head, but then, as if a new thought had entered his mind, "How good is your acting?"

****

"If Roman finds out I'm helping the Batman," Carmen began.

"He won't," the Batman cut her off. "Just make the call. Tell him to meet you here."

Carmen looked between the payphone and the piece of paper she held clutched between her fingers.

"I don't even know what these guys did." Carmen said, shaking her head, ludicrously. How had she become entangled in this matter?

"They did something to somebody who...let's just say, doesn't deserve it." He paused. "And I promised I'd find her."

"Her?"

"Her."

Carmen recalled something she'd seen on the tv earlier that day. "Is it that doctor? Bruce Wayne's fiancée or whatever?"

If she'd been paying more attention, perhaps she would have seen the way the Batman's body tensed momentarily, but alas, she was still looking down at the paper, then back up at the vigilante.

"Yes." The Batman finally said. "If you help us find her, I can assure you that reward money is yours."

Carmen rolled her eyes. "You think I'm gonna help you for some money?" She snorted. Not everything had to do with money. She grabbed the payphone from off the hook, inserting the coins and dialing the number. "If I'm helping you, it's because that doctor seems like a good decent person; something Gotham's been lacking in."