The elevator chimed softly as it reached the penthouse floor, but the moment the doors slid open, the atmosphere shifted. Dust hung in the air like smoke from a battlefield. Glass crunched faintly beneath Nolan's boots as he stepped into the wreckage that used to be his sanctuary.
Marnie LaSalle stood by the broken window with a clipboard in one hand and a flashlight in the other, even though it was midmorning. Two men in hard hats were kneeling by a structural beam, talking in hushed tones.
"Morning," Marnie said without looking up. "Or what's left of it."
Nolan gave a faint, dry chuckle and scanned the damage marks gouged across the drywall, shattered tile near the bar, and a long fissure in the ceiling where something, or someone, had been thrown. He ran a hand through his hair.
"What's the verdict?" he asked.
One of the construction guys stood, wiping his hands. "Well, for starters, the outer pane of the window's toast. We'll need a full frame replacement. That beam near the balcony's bent we think it got slammed into. Wall studs in the northeast corner are splintered."
"And the ceiling," Marnie added, flipping her clipboard. "We'll need to cut out the damaged section, replace it, then patch and paint. Honestly, it looks like someone dropped a truck in here."
Nolan exhaled slowly and folded his arms. "Yeah… I guess some thugs thought it was a good opportunity to rob the place while we were still mid-renovation. Didn't realize I lived up here."
That got a reaction. The men exchanged glances. Marnie looked up from her notes.
"They broke in?" she asked.
"Yeah," Nolan said evenly. "Middle of the night. Kicked the balcony door off its hinges. I woke up to footsteps in the hall. We fought. I managed to drive them off, but… you can see the aftermath."
One of the men muttered, "Looks more like they brought a wrecking ball."
Marnie didn't say anything for a beat. Then, slowly, she nodded. "We'll patch it up. I'd say… two weeks minimum. Maybe three if sourcing the window takes longer. You sure you're alright?"
Nolan gave her a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Fine. Just tired."
She didn't push. "Alright. I'll get the crew organized. Might want to stay in one of the lower suites for a bit, just until we get the glass sealed."
"I'll think about it."
Marnie turned back to the clipboard, issuing instructions to the workers. Nolan stood there for another moment, staring at the ruin of his penthouse, then turned and walked away, silent, composed, but already calculating how much this would cost him, how many pesky questions he could afford to leave unanswered.
He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby, jaw tight, eyes distant.
***
Nolan stepped out of the hotel lobby into the crisp evening air, the city lights casting long shadows across the pavement. He hailed a cab and directed the driver toward the outskirts of Gotham's industrial district, where the remnants of the homeless encampment still lingered amidst the ruins of the recent battle.
As the cab pulled up near the makeshift camp, Nolan stepped out, his eyes scanning the area for familiar faces. He spotted Darius "Dime" Holtz tending to a small fire, his posture tense as if he was ready for someone to start shooting, ironically everyone in Gotham was ready for such an event. Eddie "Gums" Ortega leaned against a wall, his weathered face etched with fatigue.
Nolan approached them, his footsteps crunching softly on the debris-strewn ground.
"Dime," Nolan greeted, his voice low.
Dime looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly before recognition dawned. "Nolan. Didn't expect to see you here."
"I heard about the attack," Nolan said, glancing around at the damaged camp. "I came to see how everyone was holding up."
Brick let out a bitter laugh. "Holding up? We're barely standing. They came in the dead of night, guns blazing. Thought we'd be easy pickings."
Gums nodded, his gaze distant. "They underestimated us. We fought back. Lost some good people, but we held our ground."
Nolan's jaw tightened. "Black Mask's men?"
Dime confirmed with a nod. "Krillface led the charge. Bastard's dead now. Took a bullet between the eyes. Greta's checking on Regina she got hit pretty bad don't know if doc will be able to patch things up."
"And the others?" Nolan inquired.
"Scattered," Brick said. "Some ran, some died. But they'll be back. They always come back."
Nolan looked at each of them, the weight of their losses evident. "I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do…"
Dime placed a cigarette in between his lips, "Help us kill them, I fucking lied before I don't want to be homeless I want to walk the streets one day knowing black mask can't do shit to me!"
The fire crackled between them, a flickering reminder of all that had been lost. Dime sat motionless, arms resting on his knees, blood dried along his temple. His eyes weren't on anything—they just stared into the smoke, like he was trying to see through time itself.
Nolan stepped away from the others. Quiet. Measured. He moved around the fire and stopped in front of Dime, the weight of grief and fury thick in the air between them.
"Dime," he said, voice low.
No response. No blink. Just breathing.
So Nolan crouched. Reached out. His hand slid to the back of Dime's head gentle but firm and he leaned in until their foreheads pressed together.
Nolan closed his eyes, took a slow breath.
"I swear to you," he whispered, "we will win this war, Dime."
The words fell like iron.
"You will have your revenge. For Regina and everyone else that was lost."
Dime's breath caught just slightly but he didn't speak.
"We are not going to let them do this to us again. Not now. Not ever."
Nolan's hand held him there, steady, grounded.
"I don't care how many we have to bury to get there. I don't care how long it takes. But we will make Gotham feel this. Feel us."
He drew closer still.
"We are not vermin. We are not ghosts. We are not to be messed with anymore."
His voice cracked, just slightly only enough for Dime to feel how real it was.
"I swear that to you. On everything I have left. We will win."
Dime finally moved. Just a fraction. But his hand came up and grabbed Nolan's wrist.
Tight.
They stayed there two brothers forged by the same fire, same loss, same fury. For a moment, there was no war. Just a vow, unspoken and immortal.
***
Nolan looked out of the window of one of his newly renovated rooms a drink in hand as he gazed out into the night, "I'm surprised Batman didn't come back." He said aloud after taking a small sip
"Enough about that, you surprised me today Nolan." Quentin said off to the side
"Yeah me too that shit was mettle. It was like you were a mob boss." Kieran laughed as he did a Italian accent
Nolan shook his head, "I meant every word I said, I don't know about you guys but I'm feeling my path more clearly than ever right now."
"I've never seen this side of you."
"Neither have I."
"Well then, I guess we are going to explore this side of myself together."