just_muse_me : Face Your Demons : Eye of the Storm
Duela Dent
Batman
761 words
There was one thing Duela Dent wanted more than anything else in the world. Above everything, she wanted to hate Jonathan Crane. She wanted to want him dead, wanted to scream at him until she was hoarse. She wanted to want to put a bullet in his head, wanted to want to watch him bleed out. She'd hated him just yesterday... or maybe it was the day before. But today, for some reason...
She considered the possible reasons. She ruled out affection. He'd destroyed everything she loved. He'd torn her family apart, torn her apart. She felt no affection for him. Pity was out of the question. He regretted nothing, asked for no pity, and she had none to give to him. The answer, she decided, had nothing to do with him. It was all her.
She was finally accepting what he'd done. she was coming to terms with who and what she was. She was the daughter of Jonathan Crane and Nadine Dent.
Duela knew it would take her longer to accept her mother. She pitied the woman, had seen the terror and the desperation and the hopelessness in her eyes when... he had been gone. When her father had been gone. She could still call him that. He'd let her still call him that. Surely he would. She was still... his little girl, wasn't she? He still cared. He'd said he still cared. But could he ever look at her the same way again?
She was still surprised that, for as long as he and her mother had talked last night, she hadn't heard shouting. She was even more surprised she hadn't heard a gunshot. It scared her slightly, but Duela knew she'd have forgiven him if he'd shot her mother. He'd been wronged. So, so badly wronged... it would have been fair for him to shoot an unfaithful wife.
Duela rolled over in her bed, glaring at the wallpaper of the room. Today, she would leave this awful house. She would go with her mother and her father. They'd never be free of Jonathan Crane, they all knew that. Her mother needed him too much, and her father... somehow, her father had accepted that. Duela couldn't understand how.
But today they'd leave.
She'd set her parents up in her penthouse, make sure they had everything taken care of. By now, the cleaning crew she'd hired should have gotten the place back to its usual immaculate state. The new couch should have arrived, along with the television and the bathroom mirror. And a new coffee table. Everything that had been damaged in her father's rage had been fixed. She'd give them the master bedroom now. What use did she have for it? The secondary room they had been staying in would do fine for her.
But she wouldn't stay there right away. She'd see them settled in and then go off on her own for a bit. Take a little vacation, not far from Gotham, just... far enough to let her breathe.
She wouldn't take Dick. Duela knew that. She wouldn't ever speak to him again if she could help it. He deserved so much more. The daughter of Harvey Dent might have been worthy of him, but the daughter of Jonathan Crane? No. If she continued to see him, he deserved the truth, and she couldn't tell him that. She'd write him out of her life. The pain that idea caused her would fade in time. She was sure of it.
She'd... make something of all this. Duela wasn't sure what Gotham held for her now. Joker's Daughter was... Well, what was she? Was she done? Or was she just getting started? Perhaps she'd keep the costume, just a little longer. Get a little more money, get a little more stress relief. Get a little more time with the Bat.
He couldn't judge her. He had no right. He was a vigilante, obsessed with criminals. They were quite the pair. Whatever hurt leaving Dick left her with, she'd make the Bat feel ten-fold. He'd suffer as she knew she'd suffer. If she couldn't be happy, she'd make his life that much worse, even if none of it was his fault. Someone had to pay. She couldn't blame her father. She couldn't hold it against her mother. Even Crane managed to escape her wrath in the cold light of day. That left only the Bat.
Duela pulled herself up from the bed and headed for the attached bathroom. She needed a shower. Then...
Then she'd get out of this place.
Batman
761 words
There was one thing Duela Dent wanted more than anything else in the world. Above everything, she wanted to hate Jonathan Crane. She wanted to want him dead, wanted to scream at him until she was hoarse. She wanted to want to put a bullet in his head, wanted to want to watch him bleed out. She'd hated him just yesterday... or maybe it was the day before. But today, for some reason...
She considered the possible reasons. She ruled out affection. He'd destroyed everything she loved. He'd torn her family apart, torn her apart. She felt no affection for him. Pity was out of the question. He regretted nothing, asked for no pity, and she had none to give to him. The answer, she decided, had nothing to do with him. It was all her.
She was finally accepting what he'd done. she was coming to terms with who and what she was. She was the daughter of Jonathan Crane and Nadine Dent.
Duela knew it would take her longer to accept her mother. She pitied the woman, had seen the terror and the desperation and the hopelessness in her eyes when... he had been gone. When her father had been gone. She could still call him that. He'd let her still call him that. Surely he would. She was still... his little girl, wasn't she? He still cared. He'd said he still cared. But could he ever look at her the same way again?
She was still surprised that, for as long as he and her mother had talked last night, she hadn't heard shouting. She was even more surprised she hadn't heard a gunshot. It scared her slightly, but Duela knew she'd have forgiven him if he'd shot her mother. He'd been wronged. So, so badly wronged... it would have been fair for him to shoot an unfaithful wife.
Duela rolled over in her bed, glaring at the wallpaper of the room. Today, she would leave this awful house. She would go with her mother and her father. They'd never be free of Jonathan Crane, they all knew that. Her mother needed him too much, and her father... somehow, her father had accepted that. Duela couldn't understand how.
But today they'd leave.
She'd set her parents up in her penthouse, make sure they had everything taken care of. By now, the cleaning crew she'd hired should have gotten the place back to its usual immaculate state. The new couch should have arrived, along with the television and the bathroom mirror. And a new coffee table. Everything that had been damaged in her father's rage had been fixed. She'd give them the master bedroom now. What use did she have for it? The secondary room they had been staying in would do fine for her.
But she wouldn't stay there right away. She'd see them settled in and then go off on her own for a bit. Take a little vacation, not far from Gotham, just... far enough to let her breathe.
She wouldn't take Dick. Duela knew that. She wouldn't ever speak to him again if she could help it. He deserved so much more. The daughter of Harvey Dent might have been worthy of him, but the daughter of Jonathan Crane? No. If she continued to see him, he deserved the truth, and she couldn't tell him that. She'd write him out of her life. The pain that idea caused her would fade in time. She was sure of it.
She'd... make something of all this. Duela wasn't sure what Gotham held for her now. Joker's Daughter was... Well, what was she? Was she done? Or was she just getting started? Perhaps she'd keep the costume, just a little longer. Get a little more money, get a little more stress relief. Get a little more time with the Bat.
He couldn't judge her. He had no right. He was a vigilante, obsessed with criminals. They were quite the pair. Whatever hurt leaving Dick left her with, she'd make the Bat feel ten-fold. He'd suffer as she knew she'd suffer. If she couldn't be happy, she'd make his life that much worse, even if none of it was his fault. Someone had to pay. She couldn't blame her father. She couldn't hold it against her mother. Even Crane managed to escape her wrath in the cold light of day. That left only the Bat.
Duela pulled herself up from the bed and headed for the attached bathroom. She needed a shower. Then...
Then she'd get out of this place.