The Last Smile

I stare at the celling, counting the grubby panels that are in need of a good wash and imagine that I am outside, gazing at the stars and letting the snow flakes fall onto my face, cooling my skin. For I am too hot. Although the Steel Mil is our new home, and a bloody good one at that (since it is easy to guard and far enough away from the other gangs to avoid too much confrontation), it is still operational, which means that the steam produced heats the place up so much it feels like Africa.

I take a deep breath. I really need to get some shut eye, hell we both do, its been weeks since we got a decent sleep but the heat in the room basically makes it impossible, not to mention the incessant beeping. I look across at the person lying next to me, sound asleep. How can they sleep through that noise? Suddenly I feel panic begin to rise in my chest. What if the beeping wakes them up, they need all the sleep they can get and I feel anxious at the thought of them being woken by a stupid beeping machine.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It is beginning to really piss me off. I look at the annoying machine, glaring at it and hoping it would burst into flames, but it doesn't. It just beeps.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The god damn thing is mocking me. I send it another death glare as my trepidation rises.

I take another deep breath trying to calm myself, but it doesn't work. Perhaps I should just turn it off. I look across at it - there doesn't seem to be an off switch, so I reach down to the side of the bed and pull out the first thing I find.

A hammer.

How ironic, I think, as I raise it above my head. But the person next to me begins to stir. Oh no, I think and put down the hammer as quickly and as quietly as I can, before lying very still. It works, the person stops moving and carries on sleeping.

I breath a sigh of relief. That was close.

I bring my hand up to my face and rub my eyes. I'm so tired. I glance across at the sleeping form next to me, wishing I could fall asleep just as easily. But I can't - my thoughts are constantly moving and I have things to think about. Things I can't bother the other person with.

Well maybe this once.

I look across at them again. They look so peaceful. They're skin is so white and although they're lips are chapped and sore, I still find them loverly. I raise my hand out to touch them when a voice inside my head screams No! I pause. Why? At that moment I realize how I am about to do something terrible, like lifting the lid off Pandora's box. But I can't help it, I untangle myself from all the wires which are hooked up to the beeping machine and in one swoop, I am spooning them from behind with my arm around their thin waist and my head resting on their shoulder as I breath in the sent of them.

I feel their body stiffen in my arms (this is something I very rarely do), but their hand comes and rests on top of mine as a sign of acceptance.

Obviously someones isn't as asleep as I thought.

I take a steady breath, god this could go so wrong. You'll regret it, a little sing song voice in my head warns, but I ignore it and whisper in their ear, I'm afraid.

I feel them rub their thumb across my knuckles, Of what? They ask.

Of what is going to happen. I tighten my grip on their waist and they shift uncomfortably. We haven't laid like this in a long time - we never were particularly affectionate, but our relationship was one of a kind and it somehow worked for us.

And I know that there isn't long left for us to just be us.

And as I feel the rough skin under my fingers, I realize how much we have both changed since the events of Arkham Asylum.

Well, not me. I'll always be the same.

But to feel peeling, rotten skin flaking away under my hands, rather than the soft smoothness that I am used to makes me so angry.

I made her this way.