Seeing the Sights

A Batman/Vertigo fanfic by Brian Doyle

If Vertigo type themes disturb you, avoid this story.

I don't own any of the main characters of this story, but I promise to put them back when I've finished with them, possibly a little traumatised, but not really harmed, so please don't sue.

This story is set about seven years ago, DCU time...

- - - -

The Sleepover Motel, between Bludhaven and Gotham

The man took a swig from his bottle of imported beer, wiped his knife clean on the pillow and lay back more comfortably on the bed.

At length he addressed the figure lying next to him in a conversational tone.

"Did you know there's actually a world out there where they actually _worship_ eyes? No of course you didn't know that Nicky, but I thought I'd share it with you. I've never been there myself, but I used to work for a guy who'd been there and he told me about it. Ekron it's called, sounds like it should be in Ohio, but it's not, it somewhere out past the Pleiades. He told me they worship a Sapphire Eye and a Ruby Eye and they whisper about an Emerald Eye that's been missing for thousands of years. Some say it's gone walkabout... which is a strange mental image isn't it?"

He finished what he was eating and looked over again "But I'm boring you aren't I Nicky? Sorry, I do tend to go on sometimes, but you're such a good listener."

The beds other occupant remained motionless, his wrists and ankles still tied to the bedposts, but it wouldn't have made much difference if they weren't.

"Now, now! Let's be big about this. No tears. I won't have that."

It might have been tears that ran down the motionless figure's face, but only if tears were crimson.

"I really do think it's time to go our separate ways. Don't get me wrong Nicky, it was fun and you've shown me all sorts of things but to be totally honest, and honesty is important in any relationship, it's nothing I haven't seen a hundred times before. A shame really, I'd hoped you might be different. Besides, look at you, you hog the bed!"

With a chuckle and a farewell wave, the man turned away from the body. He paused only to check himself in the mirror and put on his sunglasses. As he checked his hair, someone of the right age might have appreciated his quick impersonation of Arthur "The Fonz" Fonzarelli from the opening titles of Happy Days, but no one was watching him, he'd made sure of that himself. He stepped out of the motel room, stretched and breathed in the night air around him.

"Gotham." he said aloud, as if reaching a decision, "I haven't been there in years. They think they know the terrors of the night because of the lunatics in that asylum? I think it's about time I reminded them what a _real_ nightmare is like."

Whistling cheerily, yet quietly so as not to wake those in neighbouring rooms, the Corinthian walked over to his car. Not a soul saw him drive away.