WARNING! This story features SUICIDE as a central theme and should not be read if this sort of thing disturbs you. I am not condoning the act with this writing, nor am I condemning it, I'm just using this story to explore why Alicia 'Threw herself out a window'. I remind you, if you do not want to read angst and suicide, DO NOT under any circumstances read this. If you ignore this warning and read it anyway, I don't want to hear any belly aching about not liking the content when I warned you well in advance, capiche?

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The Gotham city skyline stood silhouetted against the clouds, cutting sharp angles in the first rays of dawn that were peaking over the horizon.

Alicia Cromwell stood on the terrace of the late Carl Grissom's penthouse apartment staring at that rising sun, knowing that it would be the last her eyes would ever see.

She was trembling in the cool morning air, one hand wrapped around her midsection holding a plaster drama mask, and the other near her face, holding a cigarette which was had burned down and was mostly ash.

She had reached her decision last night as she watched Jack slaughter one of his faithful henchmen, tearing his Adam's apple right out of his throat with his bare hands, his eerie laughter echoing off the walls as he did so.

Alicia shivered suddenly and forced down the bile that was trying to rise up in her throat at revisiting the gruesome memory. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a sob that was trying desperately to escape her lips.

A tear trickled down her cheek, the burning hot trail it left on her acid marred flesh reminding her of just what she came out here to do.

Alicia was a smart woman, let no one tell you any different. No matter the front of a blonde bimbo she put on for the world, she was far more intelligent than anyone ever could have imagined. She was a woman who would have done well in chess, had you been the sort to ask her to play, since she planned out every move she made well in advance. She thought of the future all the time, it consumed her every waking moment, and she was always planning for every eventuality.

That's why she became involved with Jack Napier in the first place. It's not that she wasn't happy with Grissom (or at least, the closest to happy that someone like her could ever hope for) but she recognized the signs that Grissom was losing his hold on his men...that Jack was gaining more and more loyalty.

She knew a changing of the guard when she saw one.

So she did what any halfway intelligent woman in her position would've done: she decided to get in on the ground floor of the new regime.

She allowed Jack to think he was seducing her to his side, when really all she wanted was to be on his side.

She didn't love him, no more than he loved her...not really. He only wanted her because she belonged to Grissom...and she only wanted him because he was her ticket to a continued life in the lap of luxury. They were using each other...a victimless crime, really. No one was supposed to get hurt.

But it hadn't worked out that way...

Carl was dead, shot through the chest God only knows how many times by his formerly loyal right hand man...and now...

Now her own time was drawing to a close. She knew it. She could sense it in the way Jack- No, in the way Joker looked at her. When he had brought her to the museum to meet that Vale woman, she saw the way he looked at her...that animalistic coveting in his gaze. Like a man thirsting for water that was just out of his grasp.

He had looked at her that way once...but not anymore...

He didn't need her now...he had something else to occupy his time. Someone else.

It was only a matter of time before he decided that he didn't need her anymore and then he would kill her.

Would it be gruesome like the way he'd done that henchman last night?

Or would it be quick, like the shots to Carl's chest?

She pictured herself, lying on the floor of the penthouse foyer, a pool of her own blood blossoming beneath her.

Never mind. It didn't matter either way. She didn't want to find out what Jack would do.

She would rather take things into her own hands than let that lunatic decide her fate.

Alicia's eyes slid shut as she stepped closer to the railing and laid her hands on it.

How did things go so wrong? She thought she had planned for every possible outcome...

She figured the worst that would happen if Carl found out was that he'd have Jack killed...and that was no skin off her back. Oh, if Grissom wasn't in a generous and forgiving mood, maybe she'd have ended up with a bloody nose and a split lip...but that she could take.

She hadn't planned on Jack coming back from the dead...coming back...changed.

Jack Napier had never been right in the head, but he had taken leave of the realm of sanity completely now and she would never be free of him.

Not even if she ran...

He had made certain that she would never be able to hide from him by marking her with the acid. Branding her as his possession.

Alicia's lips parted as she opened her eyes, looking out on her fair city.

Another step closer to the railing...just one more...just lean foreword a few more inches and then gravity would take over and she'd be rid of Jack Napier forever.

She gripped the railing tighter, dropping the plaster mask and hearing it shatter on the ground near her feet in the process.

Someone inside the penthouse must've heard it...she could make out the sounds of henchmen shuffling around inside, trying to ascertain the source of the sound.

They'd find her out here and try to stop her.

Try to keep her from being free.

Now or never, now or never, now or never...

She leaned foreword and let go of the railing.

And in the moments she was in the air, in the silence of the city morning, she was free for those precious few seconds before she hit the pavement twenty stories below.

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A/N:Amazing the things that pop into your head when you rewatch the original Batman film. I sat through it again today (squeeing throughout most of it as usual...alright, lets be honest, all of it) and I started feeling like the Alicia character didn't get as much development as she deserved, so I plopped down and wrote this. Hope you enjoyed it and if not...chock it up to me being a misunderstood artist or...something like...deep XP

I've taken creative license and given Alicia a last name even though the films credits didn't give her one. Neither did the original script, apparently. Poor underdeveloped creature.