My Ghost

seven

ray's point of view

"So, where'd you go, Ray?" Commissioner Gordon asks.

I lean back in the dining room chair, running my fingers through my unkempt hair. Gordon sits across the table from me, a cup of coffee in his hands. A notebook sits on the table between us.

"I didn't go anywhere," I tell him honestly. "I was walking the streets the one night before I was bashed over the head. The next thing I know, I'm tied to a chair in a room with the Joker."

Gordon nods, setting his coffee onto the table gently and picking up the notepad, jotting a few words down.

"And how did you escape?"

"Harley Quinn," I state simply. This part of the story I had concocted myself. I didn't dislike Harley, despite her attempt to kidnap me. The girl was just blinded by false love.

"What about Dr. Quinzel?" Gordon presses.

"I appealed to her emotions. I told her how I lost the love of my life... how I never found out how. She shared her own story of when she thought she had lost the Joker and understood my pain. She cut me loose and set me free the next day after the Joker slapped her around right in front of me."

"Why would she betray him if she loves him?" Gordon interrogates.

I shrug, looking down at the table. "Why wouldn't she? He hits her and abuses her mentally. She may finally be waking up."

"Where did you go when you went into hiding?" Gordon asks, shifting gears.

"Bludhaven," I answer. "I have a friend who lives there, he let me stay in his apartment."

"His name?"

"Andre Twist," I answer. "A good man." It was true, Andre was a close friend of mine. We had grown up in the same neighborhood outside the cities. When we both grew up we each chose a city and lost touch for a while, until we reconnected about five years ago. I haven't spoken to him much since, but every now and then we meet up for coffee at our favorite coffee shop.

Gordon jots the name down in his notebook. "Why did you decide to return on Christmas?"

"My mother and I always did love the dramatics," I joke, smiling at Gordon. "But Andre needed to leave, and I decided it was time for me to leave as well. I figured I should be safe by now. When I heard about the charity event... I had to make an appearance. I missed my father, I wanted nothing more than to hug him once again."

"Why'd you run away in the first place, then?"

"Because I needed some space. After the events with the Joker, I needed to be on my own, and I knew neither you nor my father would ever let that happen," I tell him.

Jim takes some more notes before setting the notepad down and taking a sip of his coffee.

"I just have one more question for you, Ray," the commissioner says.

"Ask away."

"Do you know the name Harvey Dent?"

I chuckle. "Who doesn't know Dent? He was a hero."

"What about Two-Face? Ever had a run-in with him?"

I shake my head, what was Gordon trying to get at? "No, I've never seen him. And, by the way, that's two questions."

"But you are aware that they are the same person?"

My eyebrows furrow and I nod. "Yes. I'm sorry, Commissioner, but where is this interview going?"

"What was the last contact you had with Mr. Dent?"

"I never had contact with him," I answer, slightly annoyed. "All I know about him is through the praise he's given by the GCPD."

"And you're positive?"

"Yes!" I exclaim. "I'm sorry, but this has nothing to do with what happened to me. You have enough information to burn up my death certificate so why don't you just do it already?"

Gordon rises from his seat, collecting his things and pushing his chair back into its place. "I'm sorry if I upset you, Ms. Hady. Your death certificate will be voided. I can show myself out."

I watch as Gordon exits the room, and I collapse back into the chair. What the hell was that all about? Had Bruce misinterpreted my message?

I roll my eyes at the thought of Bruce. If he had communicated his worries to Gordon then he probably revealed my identity, too. Why wouldn't he? He and Dick didn't trust me for some reason.

Was this what Jason felt like when he returned? When he came back from the dead and returned to his life?

But Jason didn't try to re-enter his old life. He was building a new one entirely, and he definitely changed. I was different, I was still the same.

"Ray?" I hear my father ask, and I look up, finding him standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "Everything alright?"

I nod, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. "Yeah, I'm okay."

I listen to his footsteps as he crosses the room to the island, pulling up a barstool and sitting next to me. "Are you alright talking about everything? It's going to be a recurring question for a while now," he asks gently.

"Yeah... I will be," I tell him, my voice low and unsure.

"Maybe it might help to see a therapist or something," he suggests. "I know... I know it helped me."

My eyes meet his and I can feel the guilt weighing on me. "You saw a therapist?"

He nods slowly. "After both of your deaths. I was still going when you came back."

"Dad," I start, tears welling in my eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you went through that."

"No, no honey don't be. This wasn't your fault, not in the slightest," he attempts to reassure me, but it only hurts more.

I begin to cry and my father pulls me in for a hug, holding me as I sob into his shoulder. This was my fault. I chose this. What if he found out? Would he ever forgive me?

Will I ever forgive me?

"I'm sorry I left you," I sob. "I'm so sorry. I was scared and selfish."

"Shhh," my father whispers, stroking my hair. "It's okay, baby. I forgave you a long time ago."

But how can he forgive me for things he has know understanding of? He can't. He has no idea the amount of things I have to be sorry for.

I pull away from him, wiping the tears from my eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too darling," he replies, reaching into his pocket and handing me a tissue. I smile slightly at him as I take it. I didn't deserve him, not at all.

"Do you want to go watch some movies in the parlor?" he asks. "My schedule is clear today, we can just sit on the couch while we watch A Christmas Story and Home Alone all day, like when you were little."

I smile at him."I would love to."

"I got the blankets!" he exclaims rushing out of the room, and I can't help but to laugh. "I've got the snacks!" I shout after him.

I rise from my seat at the table and walk into the adjacent kitchen. I grab a bag of popcorn out of the cabinet and pop it in the microwave before crossing the room to grab drinks from the refrigerator.

This was what I needed. Just one day to relax. One day to feel like everything's okay.