Telltale Bats
Nothing about being undercover was comfortable. Her every move went against every grain, every fiber of her being. She expected it, dreaded it, but feeling it first hand rather than in theory was far beyond what she was prepared for.
It was supposed to be more simple, to an extent. Get in, set the trap, and get out. That had not worked, the trap sprung without a prize, leaving her without options. Maybe it failed because they had not really known who or what sort of criminals they were dealing with. They all went in mostly blind, or at least, Brooklyn had been mostly in the dark.
Batwoman courted death, and Brooklyn Wayne did as well, but not quite like this. She had expected to die more than once on her mission, waiting for the gun in her face to explode right along with the temper of the person holding the weapon. Though, in all honesty, something inside her really did take comfort in that razor hiding in her pocket.
She would never admit it, never, particularly with how strained their overall friendship was after Harvey's descent into insanity, but Selina had been right. Brooke should not have been there.
There were too many times she considered giving up, walking out and never walking back in. She wanted to, so badly, but she knew better. Regardless of how tentatively they allowed her in, she was in, and as it was with any criminal enterprise, once in there were limited ways out. Being as well known as she was she could not very well hide from them. Not that she would run, but it helped with her resolve to know she couldn't.
Either she put them all away or she made sure they never found out she was a spy. Preferably they never would know, but logically she found that slim possibility less than plausible. As she supposed going in, there would ultimately be no way out. Ever. Even if they were put away, she would never be free, not really.
Whatever the outcome, a shadow would follow her likely forever. Either branded a criminal that got away because of her money, or as a snitching spy. This job would be a one-time thing either way. No one would trust her real face again, not really.
The likelihood of catching all these people as well as the followers, such as Bane's, was alarmingly slim. The more she knew the more she realized the odds were not in her favor. One or more of them would escape the initial capture the way Harley had, leaving them free and motivated to hunt her.
There was a high possibility her real face would need to go into hiding and she would likely need to take anyone close to her along. What would happen to the company? Well, that was hard to say. Riddler already bombed them once. She already had a plan in motion, things were in the works to prevent occasions like that, security and protection. Would it be enough? Unfortunately, she would not know until it was tested.
It was possible her company, her workers, none of them, would ever be safe again. It should have ended with Riddler's death, part of her expected it to, at least until Amanda Waller dropped her request in the form of a threat to her identity; which at this point, was becoming a moot point.
She wasn't one to leave a job unfinished anyway though, and the job wasn't finished. The longer it matched on the more she knew she had to sink the ship any way possible. The bigger the canon, the bigger holes in the ship, the faster it would sink. The trick was sinking it without drowning herself.
Brooke pulled into a parking spot a decent amount of distance away from the location. Plausible deniability was always good to keep in mind in case something happened. With a sharp twist of the keys, she killed the engine.
Seeing Riddler's body in that box had not made her sorry for his death. That bubbling miasma of hate had not cooled with his death. Watching him die stirred not one shred of pity or remorse, but it gave her no satisfaction either. A dark, secret part of her wondered if she would have felt something if there had been a second body inside if Waller died too. She did not care to examine that thought closely.
"Brookie?" John's quiet inquiry so close to her ear forced her to suppress a jump.
All her attention turned to the man leaning around her seat, chin resting on the leather back. Selina did not wait before she slammed her passenger side door and swayed herself away to take inventory of the surrounding area. Catwoman might not always use her best manners but she could read a situation rather well. She knew about distance particularly well; distance from dangerous situations, but she knew how to distance herself from people most of all. They were alike in some ways, the typical emotional separation being a large similarity; Catwoman kept people away to protect herself and Brooke kept people away for their own good, probably hers too. Regardless, she was thankful, very thankful to have the privacy for whatever he said to her.
She looked John over for a moment, him in his bedraggled glory; sleeves unevenly folded, shirttails parting untucked, not quite matching color shoes, too bright orange of the flower, and now those sunglasses. If she were to be perfectly honest, a lot of things about John drove her suppressed OCD tendencies up the wall. They made him look off balance and the whole picture made him stand out in any crowd. The longer he was with the Pact the more it showed clearly in visual form how it unbalanced him. Everything about the man was essentially advertised outwardly in his actions and in his appearance. He slipped a little farther every day even if he had been unbalanced to start with.
Brooke gripped the wheel a little harder before she found her voice, "Yeah, John?"
"I couldn't help noticing... you've been pretty quiet on the drive over, quieter. Withdrawn, even. And... you didn't answer the first two times I tried to talk to you."
"Sorry, I'm... " he curled his finger absently around a strand of her hair, distracting her in the same way his eyes drew her focus, complicating her ability to decide what to offer him in response, "distracted, I guess. Thinking."
"Is it the kitty? Is she bothering you? I mean, I didn't say anything but I could tell you two... seem to know each other and-"
"No." She cut him off, desperate to sway him off that line of thought, but fervent denials would be suspicious, she needed to divert him instead. "It's Riddler, actually."
He wound that strand of hair all the way up to the hair band, "Riddler? Why? Because of his body?" He gave her hair a tiny, playful little tug, "That's perfectly natural! That would have given anyone the creeps. Nothing to be ashamed of, Buddy!"
"It's not that." She felt the need to stop him there before he took her down that path any further, "Riddler was dangerous, he killed people for his own twisted amusement. I know neither of us was fond of him. He attacked Wayne Tower, almost getting me killed while he did kill my friend. He was conniving and vicious."
John seemed to misinterpret the direction she was taking the conversation because he let go of her hair in order to give her potentially the most awkward hug around the chair she had ever received, "It's ok! He's gone now, it's all over! He's dead as it gets. I am sorry about your friend, but Riddler got what was coming to him for that... You don't have to worry about it now."
She reached up and squeezed his bicep in something of a returned gesture, not exactly a hug, but it was close enough, "I'm not so sure we're clear though, John. He might be dead but I've got a feeling he has... more waiting. Traps he's still managing to pull the strings on. I don't know what he was doing but I don't think he was anywhere close to finished." She had his attention so now was as good an opening as she was going to get to warn him to be careful, "I've already lost people close to me because of this case, I don't want it to happen again. Promise me you'll be careful, very careful, from now on! Don't take any risks. Please, John?"
His eyes grew wide and round, his arms dropped away in a jitter, "Oh, Brookie! You-you... I... no, yeah, sure! I-I mean, of course! Everything is going to be fine! You'll see! I'll be caution personified!"
"Thank you, John." She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. It did not pass her notice the way he shivered at the contact but she decided it was best if she did not ask why. The answer could be something she did not care to hear. Pushing it all out of her mind, she threw the car door open and went after Catwoman.
The three of them searched the area, though Brooke did have to step off to the side when Waller called. Deep down she was fairly sure that was another item to add to the list of things that might get her killed in the near future. Keeping in contact was just as dangerous as dropping off the radar. Either way, it might end badly for her and it was bound to get her caught. If not for the thief, she might have been caught by John himself. At least she had someone else on the inside now that knew enough of what was happening to know how to keep other people away from her.
For her part, Selina neither seemed to like or dislike John, exactly. Though the same was not fully true for John, he did not care for their black cat even though he was as polite to her as she was to him. Brooke had to wonder if it wasn't partly her fault, if he might not like the other woman just fine without her. There was tension between the women even though they pretended not to know each other. Brooke had not fully forgiven her for abandoning Harvey when he was so in love with her and needed her support. Supposedly she had honest feelings for him, though she occasionally denied it, she felt something for her former mark.
It probably would not have saved him from his own madness anyway. Selina might have ended up as dead as anyone else too close to an explosion. Things were past help and she knew she projected a bit of undue responsibility at the thief's feet because of her own guilt over the failure. There was plenty of guilt to go around and they both knew it.
The Bat and the Cat patched things up, creating what amounted to a truce, particularly since she kept her secrets from the very beginning. Brooke had not been sure, there had been a moment when the coffin opened and the other woman prowled in, that she thought she was finished; cover blown. For a split second that shock registered behind red tinted goggles but it smoothed over without a ripple.
She trusted the thief, she really did, considering she had never given her up. According to her, girls in masks had to stick together. It helped that they mutually knew each other's alter ego, so betrayal could go both ways. Though, the more she talked about Riddler, the more Brooke suspected there could have been a relationship between them of some nature or other. She couldn't decide how to take that or what that would ultimately mean.
There were times when being right was a pain. At times she wished being pessimistic didn't mean she had a higher chance of being proven correct. Though she had hoped never to hear Riddler's voice again, neither had John, judging by the way he jerked back and made a face. The spitting tesla coils were proof enough of how much Riddler would not give up, even from the grave.
She hated the sound of the old man's laugh. It reminded her of something she couldn't place but knew she didn't like. Maybe it just seemed too much like the patented evil laugh every child that ever watched a Disney movie knew meant bad things.
One foot in the grave, he said. The video projection had no idea how accurate that was on too many fronts. His own death included. It was rather morbid.
She talked of redemption with Catwoman but a big part of her couldn't hold onto it above lip service in this case. Given some time to sort out her feelings and then maybe she could see it again. Once thinking of Lucious didn't burn a hole through her insides, maybe then.
"Alright, I'll go down and check it out." Brooke readied her toe to press the red button again and summon what they assumed to be an elevator but could just as well have been a pit of deadly spikes or something right out of Tomb Raider.
"Wait, you're not going by yourself." Catwoman crossed her arms under her ample chest, "No offense, but this is more my department than yours. I do this for a living, remember?"
"Why don't we all just go?" John cocked a brow at her suspiciously.
"Because someone has to stay up here to keep a lookout in case something happens." Catwoman countered simply, but Brooke was getting the impressing she wanted to talk. It wouldn't really be so easy to steal information away from Harley if John were around either, so there was that too. Of the two, Catwoman was probably the better choice.
"Then you stand guard, cat lady, while we go check it out." John insisted, that irritation leaking into his voice.
"It's dangerous, John. No way to know how many more traps he set down there. We'll just go down first to make sure it's safe." Brooke cut across anything Catwoman had been about to say.
That look of adoring wonder swept over his face like a lightning strike, "Brooke, you...you care about me that much? And here I thought I was losing you to her."
Brooke felt something like a slap, a good or bad feeling, she couldn't decide which. That poor, affection-starved man! Did he have anyone to watch over him? He just wanted someone to care, and why shouldn't he? It wasn't his fault he was drastically on the awkward and socially devastating side.
Maybe his dislike of Catwoman had something to do with jealousy as much as the rift between the women.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I care about you? We're best friends, nothing could possibly change that. You couldn't lose me if you tried." If the side-eyed look from Catwoman was any indication, she should be more careful what she let her mouth say. "Friends watch out for each other," she finished a bit lamely.
It was just the right thing to say in John's book though, it seemed because if he was glowing before, he was a strobe light now, "Right! Absolutely right! I mean... obviously. You just... be careful down there! Try not to die till I get there! Or, you know, after that either." He laughed the way he sometimes had in Arkham, bordering on creepy and too excited, which made her wonder what that meant. She would love to develop a guidebook on all the various meaning behind his different laughs. It would probably be entirely enlightening.
So much for trust and friends, she supposed. Perhaps she should have learned her lesson by now about such things. Amazing how she could be both an incurable pessimist and optimist at the same time. Things were bound to go bad when the Bat and the Cat worked together. Those involved in a truce through history tended to learn that it only lasted so long before the unknown time limit simply ran out on one or more parties. A thief was still a thief at the end of the day, she decided as she cradled reinjured ribs and tried to stand up from the base of the staircase. That fight had been going so well until Selina managed to turn the tables on her and throw her down an entirely too long set of metal steps. That move had not been anticipated. Metal stairs, yeah, it would be.
Obviously, she should have taken John after all.
"Sorry, Brooke, but I'm taking Harley's laptop for myself. And I'm finishing this my way." And there she went. Not sorry at all.
Fine, be that way! See if she helped that woman ever again!
Crawling to her feet slowly, feeling every one of those impacts plus the ghosts of those that had gone before and were not yet healed, and she suddenly cared a lot less about that laptop. In a few minutes, she would care a lot more, once her body was not on fire with too many aches and pains. Even her head and neck hurt, her teeth hurt too actually, but her ribs and spine were particularly loud about the complaints.
"Go drown in the river," Brooke muttered, not even loud enough for John to hear.
It was interesting though, she noticed distantly in the part of her mind most likely housing the Bat, that Selina clearly did not see John as a threat. She merely pushed him out of her way while running and she openly spoke of her intent. Did she not expect John to run to Harley about it or did she think she could get around Harley and the others either way? A third option was the Cat having an expectation of Brooke being able to convince him to keep quiet. No matter the reason, Catwoman saw no danger in John Doe. Brooklyn Wayne knew better, had seen his more dangerous side. Things had just become much more complicated. Though maybe she could convince John not to tell anyone. He had kept quiet before, protected Tiffany for Harley's eyes because Brooke asked. Not that she was feeling overly charitable toward Catwoman at the moment but it might still be better if no one heard about this.
"Easy... here." With one hand on her shoulder and one in the lower portion of her back, John fixed her posture back into a real standing position.
Brooke was not sure she fully felt gratitude with the way lightning shot through every injury, "Ffffffffuuu..."
"Fudge?" John asked, snaking his arm under hers.
"Yeah, that." Brooke huffed past gritted teeth. She kind of just wanted to roll around on the floor for a while, with less rolling and more sprawling uselessly.
"You gonna live, Buddy?"
No, she didn't really care to; "Probably," she said instead.
She would have been better if he had not spent his time taking pictures or a video, whichever it was. There were moments she could punch him. Actually, she just wanted to punch anyone at the moment just to share the misery. That too would pass once she gathered herself. She could handle a little fall. Shake it off, she reminded herself. It was only pain.
"Good, 'cause I think you and I need to have a talk." She must have looked further pained because she felt his fingers begin to rub comforting circles on her shoulder blade.
"I don't think it's exactly what you think." She tried, hoping to talk her way out of a potentially bad situation.
"You and Catwoman were going to steal the laptop but something changed down there and she doublecrossed you."
"That's... one interpretation."
"Is it wrong?" His voice got low and knowing, eyes sharper because he knew he was right and dared her to lie to his face.
She didn't. She found she had no desire to lie to him and silence was probably best. He had a way of making her want to be honest with him, to be real and genuine when she was with him. To an extent, he knew her better than most people did. She let him get close without realizing it until it was already done. Maybe it had been because she was drugged when she first met him or maybe it was because something in him called to something in her.
With a sigh, she pushed his hands away to clearly indicate that she was fine standing on her own. Just because it hurt was no reason for her to lean on him indefinitely. There had been worse done to her on many occasions, though she normally had Kevlar working on her side. Still, she felt that metal skin the same as if it had been there, hiding under the surface and it demanded to see better from her. The Bat did not allow pain to slow her down and she never would. The pain was nothing more than the brain alerting her she was injured; she was aware she was damaged, and therefore she could disregard the warnings. She could not afford weakness, not in this case.
"Let's go somewhere else." He tugged on her hand and she followed easily.
It was a strange feeling that came over her, like she wanted to curl into him and never come out. She wanted to follow him regardless of where he intended to take her. Foolishness, really. She was a grown woman, independent, and the only person she needed was Alfred. She did not need John any more than she needed anyone else. It was residual feelings of loss since Oz, Harvey, and Fox, nothing more. No use going soft now.
A voice helpfully surfaced in her mind, 'Friends have the easiest access to stab you in the back'. Right, there was that, and Harley wasn't wrong.
Cafe Triste. Outside seating, cozy enough, clean, and well planned out as far as the aesthetic arrangement. It felt like being somewhere else, somewhere unconnected to Gotham or the problems therein, which she supposed was likely intentional. She felt fairly comfortable there even if there were a few random patrons scattered around the tables in the vicinity. While she would be surprised if at least a few of them did not recognize her she also did not expect them to pay more than cursory attention to her. Brooke dated with more than slight regularity; most people said she would go with anyone that asked, so even John would not earn her more than a very slight raised brow from the public at large. It did not matter so long as no hungry, crazed paparazzi jumped out of some random shrubbery to plaster their faces all over the front page of a million tabloids. She could not really say she expected that to happen so she could assume they were safe for the time being unless Harley came looking for them.
John had quite a monster of a drink in his hands, all sugar and caffeine swirled together under a mountain of whip cream. Though she had no idea what he ordered she believed it was some kind of frappuccino concoction. Alfred would kill her if she drank something like that and then he would force tea down her throat until he deemed her adequately redeemed. It looked like a sugary death waiting to happen in her opinion, though part of her almost thought it looked good. Maybe in a drastically smaller size. For her part, she stuck to a very ordinary espresso. All the kick of caffeine without the intensity of the sugar.
"So, John, about earlier..." Brooke ventured tentatively.
John eyed her from around his drink, "I suppose you want to tell me you weren't plotting with her, you two didn't cook something up behind the scenes... to steal from Harley?"
Brooke sighed, tipping her head back a bit, "...No." She finally said, "I wasn't going to say that."
"By all means then... enlighten me." He set the coffee mixture down and leaned forward, fingers linked under his chin.
"There isn't much to tell, really. Both Catwoman and I wanted to see what was on the laptop and Harley's got no intention of parting with it. So, yes, the plan was to steal it."
"And the little kitten decided not to play by the rules, huh?" John grinned, clearly amused.
"It looks that way." She conceded.
"Can't trust anyone these days, am I right?"
Brooke cocked her head to one side, "Aren't you going to ask me why I want it?" Now, why would she ask him that?
He pursed his lips and shrugged, "No. You have your reasons, obviously, but the reasons don't really come into play. Not when you're stealing from Harley."
She listened to his ramble about theft, which people he thought he could steal from, about the new prospect being "enticing" for its parameter outside his self-drawn lines. He was more tense than usual, wound into a tight cord that seemed nearly ready to snap if pressured wrong. She did not want to be the cause of that, so she sat very quietly and let him work through it.
He was something close to angry with her, like he had been when he showed her his discovery of the tracking device. Admittedly, that had been a foolish choice, one made out of nothing more than desperation. He forgave her though, rather easily. Perhaps she could sway him to forgiveness again.
She decided it was time after he began tossing out annoyed semi threats about telling Harley, "I'm sorry, John, I should have just told you. I just... didn't know if you..."
That put a pause on his new topic, his attention was with her.
"You've done a lot for me recently, John. I didn't want to involve you in another thing. I know... how you feel about Harley... and I didn't want to put you in the position where you would have to pick a side. I thought if I didn't involve you things would be easier, safer, for you and I wouldn't be asking you to lie to her again. "
He grew quiet, even his body stilled, the mental wheels clearly running, "I can see that..." A little of that slyness came back to his eyes as his voice lowered, "And I bet you weren't sure which way I'd go this time either, right?"
He wasn't anyone's fool, she wouldn't treat him like one, "No, I didn't. I didn't want to force you to either way, but now I don't have much choice but to ask you not to tell her about this."
His shoulders sank a bit and his eyes lowered, "I don't know, Brooke... I'm torn here."
"I know, I didn't want to do that to you. I understand why you're angry with me for keeping it secret, but I thought it would make things easier. You..." for some reason she couldn't say love, "feel loyalty to Harley, and I understand that too. But we're friends... right?"
"Well, yeah... but Harley is... Harley." Every time he said Harley's name with that nearly purred emphasis, something in her wanted to shake him. "Just thinking about her makes me feel like I'm floating." John mused.
Something about hearing that made extreme annoyance rise up in her. It took biting her own tongue you keep from rattling off facts about chemicals in the brain manufacturing that feeling so often described teenage, puppy love. She wanted to tell him those feelings weren't real and they faded as time passed because the brain got used to it. It was called infatuation. She didn't say it.
"She's the most intriguing creature to ever grace me with a demeaning insult." Somehow he said those words with a smile, made it sound positive, but she couldn't help the way it made her frown. "Which is great, don't- don't get me wrong. I - but - I want more, Brooke." He looked sad and it made her ball her fingers into fists. "Like you and that politician a few months back. The way you two looked at each other, always standing together on camera." He sipped loudly from his straw.
Brooke nearly swallowed her tongue.
"What was that like? I mean until he threw you in Arkham after you helped him in the election."
She managed to wrestle an indifferent mask on and casual shrug, "Not much to tell. We were just friends until... what happened."
"How about that guy that stole your company? You two obviously had something going, history. Anyone could see it while you two whispered off behind the scenes just before your speech and before you tried to rip his face off."
How in the-! His skill for finding weak points was uncanny. "Same story mostly, we grew up together, we were friends, but now he's just another criminal in Gotham. There was never anything between us, not with either one of them."
"Oh, you must be blind then, Brooke! I told you, I'm a watcher... and watching them with you, ahhh... not even just them, the way a lot of people look at you... they see something in you." He sighed wistfully, oblivious to the way she was crawling out of her skin, trying to focus her mind on anything, even just her coffee. "If only Harley saw me. Like really saw me."
"She sees you, John." Brooke found herself saying, "I know she does. She told me once how much potential you had, and she's right."
He sobered, focusing in on her even more, a hopeful note in his voice, "She did?"
Time to try to turn it around if at all possible, now that she'd jumped off a cliff, "Yeah, and I agreed. There is a lot more to you than you realize, but other people can see it, I see it. You're a good man, John, you really are. I'm proud to call you my friend... because I see that goodness in you. You need... maybe some direction, from the right places, but you could do anything. John, you're amazing, more than most anyone I've ever met. Maybe, after all this... you could come work with me."
John seemed to be holding his breath, and when he let it out, his smile was radiant, "Wow, Brooke! That's... I don't know what to say. That's a lot, so much, to take in!" His eyes narrowed suddenly, "You're not saying that just because of the laptop-"
"No, John. I meant every word. If you came to my office tomorrow I would sign a contract with you. I would want you on my team any day. I mean that sincerely."
He swallowed and looked at the table, "That-that's... quite an endorsement! And... Harley really said that?"
She might throw her cup at him if he brought that woman up one more time! She didn't trust herself not to say something unkind so she nodded instead.
"You still want that laptop though. Am I right?"
Brooke frowned and nodded, "Yeah, what does that have to do with it?"
"Well, I thought you could give me some advice about Harley... I know you say she sees my potential but...how to get her attention, get her to see me like I want her to, you know!" He looked exceedingly hopeful and endearing, that was the only thing keeping hot coffee out of his lap. "Since you're a woman of the world..." John paused, noticing the grimace on her face, his smile dropping into a nervous thing. "I mean to say... you've been around..."
It took some effort for Brooke not to grind her teeth but he clearly noticed since his smile fell entirely and turned to a tilt of distress. "That's not coming out right at all! I'm just trying to say that you have lots of experience..." the noise he made was the low frustrated growl so she knew she needed to step in.
Gently, she rested her hand on the top of his balled fist before he could bang it on the table. "I... yeah, I get it. It's-it's fine, John, I understand. "
He calmed, shoulders lowering from that tight wind, "Well, here is what I was thinking... we could come to an arrangement..."
"You help me with the laptop and I help you with Harley." She finished, taking in his huge smile and trying to gain that center Batwoman was so good at.
The edges of his laugh were darkening, "Basically, or along those lines. Tell me how you do it, how you draw them in like flies to honey."
She almost told him being rich went a long way but decided she did not want to get that idea planted in his mind or he might start robbing banks. "Well... I suppose you start by being yourself. You're special like I said before. You just need to emphasize your attributes, let them come out naturally."
He made a nearly disappointed face, but not quite, "So, be myself. I hear that a lot but... how can I be myself if I don't really know who that is yet? How did you know who you are, Brooke?"
She frowned, hesitating, "That's... a good question." She tended to only think of herself in terms of the Bat and how to keep her masks straight, but she could not say that, "I'm not sure anyone fully knows themselves, what they could be until they are tested in some way. Different things show us what we are capable of becoming or what we are deep down. Learning who you are is a process... People are always changing. I've done things recently that... I never thought I'd do, but here we are."
"I guess you're right. We're constantly evolving..." He started speaking in that way he had, an intense stage whisper that got deeper as he went along, "I can feel someone... a few layers deep. Pacing, like an animal in a cage. Just looking for something to start it..."
That sounded entirely ominous, particularly considering the crowd he was running with. Anything nurtured under them was... dangerous. John was better than that. "Maybe you don't think you know who you are yet, but I like you just the way you are. You don't have to change for anyone, John, just be who you are. That's more than enough for anyone. If they can't respect who you are, they aren't worth your friendship." She took another drink from her cup, letting the hot liquid glide down her now dry throat, "Like with us, John. You know me better than a lot of people. You've seen a lot of my flaws and you've seen the better parts of me, and you like me anyway. I like spending time with you because you let me be who I am. In my business, that's rare."
There was that little shy streak he had, "You-you like spending time with me?"
"Of course, John." She offered him a smile containing warmth she did not have to fake. "You know I do."
"I like spending time with you too!" There was that bubbly spirit of his, but then he hesitated again, "Do you think you'll like the other me?"
Oh, she hoped so, she really did, "Do you like him, John?"
He cocked his head, seeming taken back by the question, "I... don't know yet. Maybe."
"Well, for now, maybe stick with being yourself, being the nice guy you are until you figure it out. People appreciate kindness. Even Harley. Probably."
John's fist slammed on the table to punctuate his frustration, drawing instant attention from the others seated near them, "But how does that even work?!"
Brooke couldn't help looking around in return and she spits out the first thing that came to mind, her own voice lowered to encourage him to do the same, "Bond with her. Lend a hand with a problem she has. Listen to her if she wants to talk about anything with you or let her vent to you."
"I don't know, I have a tough time just talking to her!"
Brooke sighed, ready to offer up anything she learned over the years with no idea why. She did not want him to get any closer to Harley, quite the opposite. The farther away from those people John was, that better.
There was his endless enthusiasm again, "Ooh! I've got an idea! Let's play pretend."
Well, he had her there, "Uh-what?"
"You be Harley. You know, like kids pretend to be other people, or people practice speeches." He looked at her expectantly, crossing his arms like he was waiting for a show, "Say something Harley would say."
"Alright, I'll give it a try." Brooke swallowed, confused as to how she got herself into such a situation and even more confused when she found herself trying to go along with it, "Ugh. Bane is... such a loser."
"Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about him?"
Oh boy... "Snuff out his light!" No, no, this was probably taking things in the wrong direction, so she shook it off, "I don't know what she would say."
He laughed like it was a joke, "I'd kill for some front row seats to that!"
Please, don't, she thought. But she smiled awkwardly back at him. Then again, she wouldn't mind seeing that fight either. At least not on her morbid days.
"Okay, now say something...uh... date-like. Like we're out painting the town red." Please, not in blood, please! Because that was not the mental picture she needed.
Fine, she could do it, tap into her inner fake date, "Hi John, I like long walks on the coast and boating. Do you like the ocean?" Teach him normal things.
It was more than a little startling when he grabbed her by the jacket from across the table, "WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME?!"
If people looked before, they were openly staring now. Even John noticed it that time and was appropriately chagrinned, at least to a point. He let go and calmly took his seat again.
"That's one way to get your message across." Brooke offered as offhandedly as she could considering she almost felt jittery now, "The-the direct approach. I see what you were doing there. That would clue her in right away."
"Really? I guess... I guess I'm just a natural lady killer." There were so many other ways to phrase that if only he used one of them.
"Okay, hit me. Another!"
If they were going to do this, she was going to go all out. She could imitate Harley's voice, she could get into character. "What was your favorite thing about Arkham, Puddin'?"
His face absolutely glowed, "Brooke, this is just UNCANNY! You sound just like her, it's amazing! I love it! You're so good at this!" He was looking at her with those happy eyes, but different from normal, "Okay, okay. Here we go... I enjoyed... the lights. They had a hum to them, felt like a blanket. Fuzzy, even. I miss that on the outside. It doesn't feel... as real here, you know? Out here, chaos seems to rule the day. It's loud and uneven. But you, Harley, you thrive on it. I could learn from that because I thrive on you... You're my light outside of Arkham."
It took a moment to process everything, every tiny piece of what he just drove home, "That's beautiful, John."
Brooke was very much not in the mood to play anymore. John needed so much help, probably more than she could give him alone. As safe as he clearly felt at Arkham, that was not really the place for him either. She needed to find him a place, one with humming lights and lots of calm. She could give him something like that, somewhere he could feel at home again. He was struggling on the outside and she had to wonder, as she often did, why they let him out when he was clearly not ready. She would need to find him some stability somewhere. The Pact was not giving him any of the things he really needed, they were exacerbating his problems. Maybe he never would fully be better, but he could be close, closer than he was now. She couldn't, just couldn't leave him like this, not to a world that did not understand him; not to Harley; not to the uncaring streets. More than ever she knew she had to save John if she possibly could. No matter what it took.
"'Harley?' I lobbed you a perfect pitch. You gonna swing or what?"
She missed everything he just said but she knew she could not slide back into Harley. Not without getting sick, though it was a little late for that. Part of her liked Harley but she cared about John more. He needed so much help! She was not up to pretending to be one of the problems in his life. It was too much.
She rubbed at her eyes and leaned her elbows on the table, "It's four in the morning, John. I'm incredibly tired. Can we, you know, pause this?"
He frowned a moment but nodded anyway, "Oh, oh, right, sure. We can finish this later."
"Look, I've got a penthouse near here. We would have the first three floors. You can have your pick of rooms. What do you say we just call it a night and sleep for an hour or two?"
"You mean, not going back to the station?"
"Just for a few hours. We can go back after we've slept. No one needs to know."
There was hesitation, distinctly, but she saw it the moment he decided. The nod was not even necessary, she already knew she had him. She wanted to get him into a place of his own, this was a start. Maybe she could lock him in until it was all over, until he was safe again. That was likely wishful thinking. Still, it was something to think about. Maybe not locking him in, but a proper plan to help him find and fit into a brand new life.
Note:I know, some of you are disappointed I didn't make it Catman, and honestly, I thought about it. The dynamic would have chanced a lot and it would have been interesting... but Selina is a really strong woman, she stands on her own. I tend to leave strong ladies as they are (or maybe my mind only enjoys flipping male characters? That could be) But I'm sorry if you're all disappointed with this aspect of the story. (Though, I play the friends card in game anyway so other than TT trying to get romance, it's not much different for me)
And I lied, I did end up including a lot of the date dialogue just because I adored it so much. After the end of this, things will change a lot because I decided. I know it's a game and fast paced but I like it slowed down where I can explore John and Brooke can try to do a lot more to help him. There was no signal that night in this version, nothing to take her away from him.
