Author's Note: I just wanted to say a huge thank you to all my reviewers and the people who put me on their alert list/favorite story lists! You are my biggest inspiration and the ones that bring Amy and Lynnlee to life for me! Thank you, thank you and oh, yeah, thank you!
The Space Between
Chapter Seven: Found Out
Amy laid awake in the master bedroom and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. Jon had taken the spare room next to hers, offering the larger room to her as a mixed peace offering and thank you gesture. Every time she had made eye contact with him these last few hours, she could see nothing but guilt in his face. He was blaming himself for effectively ruining her life along with his. He had even tried to talk her into going back to California , get on with her life and forget about him and the city.
But for all his guilt, she only felt double the emotion. If she had come out here with him, like he had asked her to before he left California, or at least called him more or emailed, something that kept them in contact more, this whole disaster could have been avoided. Before he boarded that plane for Gotham they had never spent more than forty-eight hours apart from each other. She had missed him terribly for that first week but her college roommate, Lina, had filled the following weeks with shopping, lunches, museums and outdoor concerts. Soon, Amy grew comfortable in her independence from Jon and she thought he had done the same. She couldn't have been more wrong.
Something creaked towards the front of the apartment and Amy quickly disentangled herself from the sheets. It was either Jon, a burglar or just the floorboards settling. Secretly, she hoped it was a burglar as she pulled the Louisville slugger, that the previous resident had left, from the closet. She wanted to beat the crap out of someone in an effort to release some of the pent up emotions from the previous few days. She slipped out into the hallway, found Jon's door to be closed and raised the bat as she continued down the hallway.
The living room looked empty but shadows hid many of the corners. Keeping the bat firmly gripped in one hand, she flipped the light switch closest to her. Nothing. Thankfully, the curtains weren't pulled on the main windows of the room and even though Amy started across the expansive space, she used the darkened glass as a mirror to what was behind her. The briefest ripple of black appeared near her shoulder and she swung around with every ounce of strength she had. A satisfying smack reverberated around the room but the shape merely stumbled, muttering a curse. She raised the bat again, only to find it had snapped in half.
"For having a sprained wrist, you sure can hit with a lot of force."
Amy dropped the bat and backed away from the hoarse voice, blocking the
Batman's path to the hallway. "What do you want?"
"To talk. Same as before."
He sounded winded and Amy took personal pride in that. "What are you waiting for then?"
"For you to be unarmed."
"Consider it payback for the wrist."
"How's your brother?"
Amy bit her lip. "Don't you know already? You've managed to break into our 'safe house' so surely you must have watched us."
"You haven't been here that long. Besides, you said you understand him better than anyone else. I want your opinion on him."
I want your opinion, well, she'd give it to him. "I think his condition is your fault."
"My fault?"
Actually, she didn't really believe it. It just felt good to cast the blame on someone else. "Yes. I believe you got overzealous in your delivering of justice that you drove him over the edge. Think about it, seeing a grown adult male dressed like a bat is enough to cause anyone to doubt their sanity, me included. Have you ever been evaluated?"
"Back to your brother and how developing a fear toxin and testing it on human subjects is my fault."
Amy crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "The dose of toxin that you hit him with was a concentrated dose. In short, you broke him mentally by overloading his brain with the drug and threatening him."
"He had just used the same concentration on ADA Dawes. So what do you want from me? An apology?"
She felt tears stinging the back of her eyes. "His nightmares are of you! All of them! Every time he closes his eyes, it's you chocking, threatening and killing him." She hadn't realized what she was doing until the throbbing came back in her wrist. Her sight had been blinded by tears and she was punching and hitting anything solid that was in front of her. She didn't know or understand why he allowed her to take out her frustration on him but he did until she collapsed in an exhausted heap on the floor. She took comfort that when she did finally lose control, it was with a man decked out in armor and not her defenseless brother.
"I understand why you're upset," he was saying, "but your brother is reaping the consequences of his actions."
Amy wiped the tears from her face and pushed back the ones that still threatened to fall. "I know."
"Do you have a handle on him?"
Amy nodded tiredly. "For now. I assume you'll be watching for the moment when I don't so you can swoop in and save the day again."
"You assume correctly."
Amy felt the floorboards shift underneath her and realized he was leaving. "Wait-"
"I don't want him to know I was here."
Amy snorted. "No worries there. I gave him enough sleeping pills to choke a small horse. I want to know how did you find us?"
"It's my city. I know everything that goes on in it."
"I don't doubt it." Amy looked up and found that he was gone. He had asked if she had a handle on Jon but she was more worried about keeping in control of herself at the moment. She had to keep it together for Jon's sake but that didn't make it any easier when she felt her life and mind slipping away from her piece by piece.
Jon woke up the next morning, or at least he thought it was the morning, with a dull headache. It was the first time in a very long time that he had managed to make it through a night without waking up screaming. He probably would have felt rested if it wasn't for the hangover-like throbbing in his head. Just how many sleeping pills did Amy give him? Not that he could blame her, he was more than willing to medicate himself into oblivion if it meant giving her some peace. God knew she deserved more than what he was putting her through.
Grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, clothes he was not accustomed to wearing, Jon half stumbled out of the bedroom to search for Amy. However it wasn't Amy that he found sitting on the leather couch in the living room watching Dr. Phil of all things. The idea that the reddish-brown haired woman taking up residence in the living room may be a hallucination didn't seem out of the realm of possibility. The only thing that threw doubt in his mind was the fact that thick, wavy hair and a slim, well dressed figure wasn't exactly frightening. The fact that she seemed so tuned in to Dr. Phil was what was scary. He cleared his throat and shut his eyes at the pain that ripped through his head.
"Oh, you must be Jonathan."
She sounded British. Interesting. He braced himself as he opened his eyes, expecting her face to be distorted in some way but it wasn't. In fact, she was quite beautiful and looking at him expectantly. Oh, right, introductions. "Yes, I am. Is Amy…"
"She had to run out to the store, she won't be long." She stepped towards him and offered her hand. "I'm Lynnlee, by the way. I live across the hall."
"The muscian."
She smiled even brighter, if that was possible. "Yes. I hope it doesn't bother you that I'm here."
He shook his head and then realized the mistake too late. Bright spots exploded behind his eyelids and it felt like the room tilted. He was dimly aware of someone pulling and pushing him until he practically fell onto the couch. There was a click and Dr. Phil's "Get real" speech ended abruptly. "Thank you."
"Can I get you anything? Water, juice-"
"Vicodin."
She laughed nervously.
"Water will be fine."
It didn't take her but a few heartbeats before the cold glass was pressed into his hand. He swallowed a few mouthfuls before sitting up and opening his eyes. Lynnlee was holding out three white pills to him.
"Amy told me to give you these when you woke up. It's just ibproferin but she thought it would be enough to knock out the headache."
It wouldn't take the pain away but it would hurt Amy's feelings if he didn't take it. Mustering a smile, he took the pills from Lynnlee and swallowed them. Lynnlee looked a little anxious as she sat down next to him on the couch and he didn't blame her. She probably had seen the news and he wondered why Amy even allowed her in the apartment. He was surprised the cops hadn't busted down the door yet. He should probably just go back to bed and let her return to the psychobabble of Dr. Phil.
"Amy was really worried about you. That's why she asked if I could sit here while she ran out for some food," Lynnlee said, breaking into his thoughts.
Curious to know just what Amy had said to this woman, he continued with the conversation. "Worried about what?"
"You've been sleeping for two days now."
Two days? How many pills did Amy give him? No wonder his head felt like it was going to explode. "She was never good with the dosage of medication."
Lynnlee laughed lightly. "Yes, she said that was your speciality, not hers."
"What else did she say?"
"That she's worried about you. She said you're brilliant with a cheeky sense of humor and if you started to psychoanalyze me, I had permission to beat you with a pillow."
"That sounds like Amy."
"And I will tell you what I told her the first day we met. I trust my gut feeling more than what other people say. Neither one of you are setting off instinct meters so whatever you did couldn't have been that bad."
Gut feelings and instinct meters. She spoke in a very articulate, though flippant, manner and it intrigued him. He followed instinct too but only when it could be backed up by solid facts and research. She could follow instinct until it lead her into the darkest parts of the Narrows but it wouldn't save her before she realized her instinct was wrong that day. He was a death trap to her and to Amy.
An unfamiliar rise of anger towards his sister surprised him. Why did she have to draw another casualty into this mess that he created? He was trying to figure out ways to get Amy out of it when she goes and invites another stranger to "babysit" him. It was frustrating, aggrevating and most of all, humiliating.
"Are you okay?"
He looked up at Lynnlee's worried green eyes and tried to relax. "I'm fine."
"You looked really angry."
He sighed. "I am. My sister should have known better than to get someone else involved in our…situation."
"Well, I do have a say in it myself. I could have refused. She warned me you were unwell and could be quite disagreeable when you were one hundred percent."
Unwell, that was putting it mildly. Amy always did have a flare for words.
"Besides," Lynnlee continued, "I like Amy. She can be quite funny and it's always nice to have another girl to talk to. And I'd like to get to know you too."
Jon stared down at his distorted reflection in the water glass. He had been so completely wrapped up in the development of the toxin, re-creating his image to fit the work he was doing in Gotham and then, of course, his melt down with the Batman. He had lost track of himself somewhere along the way and he needed to backtrack though the events to find what exactly had sent him spinning out of control. Yes, he'd like to get to know himself too. But until then, all Lynnlee and Amy would see would be a shell of what he used to be. At least for Lynnlee, it would be enough.
For now.
