Here's Your Letter
Chapter 4
A/N: Okay, this fic is about to get pretty serious. All Dana-lovers flee right now. There are a lot of flashbacks from "Dead Man's Hand", "Once Burned", and "King's Ransom" in this chapter and the next so try and jog your memories for them so you won't get confused. Which reminds me…I don't own this franchise (unfortunately) or Blink 182's "Here's Your Letter". I forgot to disclaim it. Heh. Silly Kyo. Sorry for the long absence, but I hope to make up for it in this chapter. There's a lot of heavy stuff going on soon so the rating may change, but probably not. Rated for language and violence.
Kyoko
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By now, it was well into the night and Terry had dragged himself home, not having to go on patrol because Bruce gave him the night off. It was supposed to be "The Special Night". It had been special, alright.
Numbly, he stumbled into the condo, tossing the keys in the answering machine's general direction and collapsing on the couch with a miserable groan.
How had he gotten mixed up in this again? How had this "magical" night become such a regretful disaster?
He dragged a pillow over his face and sighed into it with frustration, his eyes closing and giving into accursed memories.
Cut the skin to the bone
Fall asleep all alone
Hear your voice in the dark.
Lose myself in your eyes
Choke my voice
Say goodnight
As the world falls apart…
"There's an old saying, 'Once burned, twice shy'. Is that what you're feeling now?"
"No. But you did burn me. Bad."
"I don't suppose an apology would put everything back to the way it was before."
"Melanie…things've changed…"
"How? Are you saying you aren't attracted to me any more?"
The moonlight had cascaded down on her golden hair, the shadows accenting the gentle curves of her face and mouth and accentuating her slender, beautiful body.
"No, I'm not sayin' that." He paused to drink in her appearance.
"Not at all."
A long sigh escaped him. He could almost see it like it was yesterday: the feel of her soft, warm body in his arms, the tender touch of her lips against his, that pleading look in her jewel-like eyes. Maybe it had been the wrong decision but now…he didn't know.
I can't let this kill me
Let go
I need some more time to fix this…
Remembering what time it was, Terry rolled over onto his side and lazily groped around for the phone to call Dana and let her know he was home. The proposal would have to wait. For now.
His hand brushed a folded piece of paper and he suddenly pushed up on his arms, bringing it in front of his face. It was a note with his name on it in Dana's handwriting. Feeling his stomach sink to his shoes, he slowly unfolded it and read the contents.
Terry,
I love you. You're the sweetest, most noble and thoughtful man I've ever been with. We've been together for so long now that it feels like I've known you my whole life. And it's because of that that I have to say I'm leaving. It's nothing you did. It's what you didn't do. I understand your burden as Batman and I wish I could be more supportive of you, but I can't wait any longer. We've been together for so many years and yet our relationship has barely gone anywhere. I hope you find it in yourself to forgive me, but I've met someone else. I'm moving to Japan with him tonight. By the time you get this, I'll be in the air. I will never forget you or what we had. Please take care of yourself. I hope you find what you're looking for someday.
Dana
He'd lost her for the last time.
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She hated this place.
It wasn't because of its appearance because the restaurant was gorgeous and the food was delectable. The atmosphere was pleasant and well lighted; the building was two-stories and could comfortably fit forty-seven tables on the first floor and a further twenty upstairs. He was the reason she hated this place.
That stupid grey door was in front of her now, the one with the black letters reading "Manager", and she could feel the nervous clutch of fear in her abdomen. The dreadful notion that she could never be free of them made her posture slump and her throat tighten. But she squared her shoulders and adopted a cold, defiant expression as she grabbed the doorknob and turned it.
As usual, the room was dark and narrow with white walls, shrouded in cigarette smoke enough that she coughed. It was empty except for a bland charcoal couch at the back and two round tables where his usual gang of idiots had gathered, whistling at her as she walked past them. The loathsome scum was sandwiched between an Asian beauty and a Swedish model, a fat cigar held loosely between his thumb and forefinger. Melanie clenched her hands and spoke.
"I'm here. What d'you want?"
He took a drag on the cigar slowly, deliberately, and glared up at her with his dead, doll-like eyes.
"Evening, Melanie. How's it going?"
Her eyes narrowed icily. She wasn't in the mood for playing games.
"You know damn well 'how it's going'? What did you call me for—I already paid you this month."
He paid her no attention for a moment, handing his cigar to the blonde on his left. She smiled seductively and took a pull, blowing out the smoke in a ring and watching Melanie with taunting eyes. Finally, he spoke to her.
"A couple of my boys said they paid you a visit earlier tonight."
Internally, Melanie winced. "Yeah. So?"
"All six of them are in the hospital. Any idea why?" Those black, predatory eyes bored into hers like a lion watching a gazelle that had seen the hunger in its eyes.
"They crossed the line. Someone had to put them straight, Zack." She lied with a perfectly straight face.
A low, dry chuckle escaped him as he exhaled another stream of smoke.
"You're good for a woman, Mel, but not that good. Who helped you?"
"No one." Zack glanced to his right at one of his grinning associates. Melanie suddenly found herself on her butt with a sharp, crackling pain shooting across her left cheekbone.
"Don't make this hard on yourself, Mel. Just tell me who helped you and you can go home." Zack sighed boredly. She only shook her head and pushed to her feet, wintry eyes cold and defiant.
"No one helped me." She repeated. A fist buried itself in her stomach, crushing the air from her lungs and dropping her to her knees, gasping for breath.
"Lying bitch," the offender snarled. Melanie clutched her abdomen until the pain lessened and made herself stand again. Zack's dead eyes remained the same but the smirk was gone from his face.
"Last time I'm gonna ask you nicely. Who was it?"
She spat at his feet contemptuously. "Your mom."
The second man lashed out at her again but she dodged and thrust the palm of her hand upward into his nose, effectively breaking it and causing him to crumple to the floor in pain. The remaining men bristled and surrounded her, cracking their knuckles and grinning cruelly.
Zack stood slowly and pushed past the moaning thug on the floor, locking his eyes with Melanie's.
"Well…looks like somebody grew some balls overnight," he mused, handing his cigar to the Asian girl behind him. The stench of the smoke swarmed Melanie's senses but she stood firm and glared at him fearlessly. He cradled her injured cheek, examining the bruise beginning to rise on her pale skin and clucked his tongue.
"You should get some ice on that, babe. Wouldn't want to scare the fish away on your next shift." He leaned over her face as if to kiss her and whispered,
"But I have an idea of who could replace you…and she's a lot more…lively."
Her eyes widened in horror, but only for a second, then fury overtook her face.
"Leave Emily out of this, you bastard—"
"Then tell me who the hell put half my crew in the hospital or I'll make sure that every Joker at Gotham University gets a taste of little miss Walker."
Rage welled up in her chest and burst as she swiped at him wildly, trying to scratch his eyes out with her nails, only to have her arms grabbed by one of the bravest of the group of Jokerz. The others warily stepped back to avoid joining their bleeding friend on the floor. She struggled in the large man's grip, all the desperate anger she had for the manipulative Joker leader stark on pale face. Zack never batted an eyelash.
"What's more important, Mel? The welfare of some stranger or your own daughter?"
It wasn't his cruelly conversational voice that made her stop struggling; it was the vivid picture of Emily Walker's face in her mind. The only person left in the world that hadn't hurt her. Emily, whose eyes warmed her broken heart because they reminded her of…
Melanie sighed and there was a sob in it, her head bowing in shame, and closed her eyes, whispering,
"McGinnis. His name is Terry McGinnis."
Zack frowned. "The billionaire?" A sneer curled on her lips.
"You're lying…"
Her head jerked up and the anger returned.
"No, I'm not. He and I used to date when we were teenagers."
Zack's eyes widened, then seemed to freeze over and the lifeless look in them made her shudder.
"So he's…" A dry chuckle escaped him. "That makes it all the more meaningful. Irony is an interesting concept, isn't it?"
His words dawned on her and numbed her too the bone. What had she done?
"No, don't do this, please! I'll do anything!" she pleaded, all the toughness crashing down into helplessness. Zack took the cigar back from the Asian girl, ignoring Melanie's cries, and blew a long breath of smoke in her face. She coughed harshly, then swayed as she suddenly became light-headed. A warm numb fizzled down her body and her vision swam, colors bleeding together until a thick grey sucked her down into unconsciousness.
Zack jerked his head towards the motionless woman held between the big Joker's hands.
"Get her outta here. We've got work to do."
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"I thought I gave you the night off," the ancient legend known as Bruce Wayne questioned mildly as he watched his son exit the changing room with the Batsuit on. Terry's face was too expressionless in the pale cave light: the old man knew something was wrong.
"You did. But I thought it'd be best to do one quick sweep."
"No such thing," Bruce remarked, easing down into his favorite chair with the help of his cane.
"I take it your date didn't go as planned?"
Terry pulled the cowl over his face, striding for the batmobile.
"Something like that. And if you say 'I told you so', I am going to switch your pills with Tic-Tacs."
The top of the vehicle slid open.
"I'm sorry."
Terry froze. It was the first time he had ever heard Bruce Wayne apologize in his life. He almost turned to look at the old man, just to see if his face matched the soft sincerity his voice had held. A brief sigh escaped his lips.
"Me too."
The shuttle door shut once he jumped inside and the sleek, black hover car blasted out of the cave's exit.
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Next chapter coming soon! Max, drugs, lies, memories, and epiphanies. And don't forget to review or my fics from the Graveyard of Discontinuation will crawl out of their tombs and eat your brains. :D Ha.