Disclaimer:I do not own Gotham or its characters.
10
Renee's place has always been her place of refuge.
When she wanted to hide from the world, she went there. When she wanted to hide from Jim, she went there.
But Jason taught her that she didn't need to hide anymore.
Barbara looks at Renee's ID and smiles a little sadly. She should have no more ties with cops.
The elevator door opens with a soft ding and she walks down the hallway, passing almost identical doors on both sides. She comes to Renee's apartment and gives the door a purposeful knock.
The door opens just a small crack.
Barbara tilts her head to look through the space curiously. The door wasn't shut properly. She gently pushes the door open and steps into the apartment, unsure. "Renee?"
Without warning a strong arm wraps around her neck from behind her. It pulls her up against a solid body and tightens around her windpipe, strangling her. She gasps out a small squeal and a hand clamps down on her mouth. Barbara lashes out in panic, her hands blindly clawing at her attacker.
Then her attacker releases her and spins her around. "You. Why're you here?" He hisses.
Barbara recoils from the man, but she freezes as soon as she sees his face. The man has a black mask that covers the lower half of his face, but she'd recognize him anywhere.
Barbara opens her mouth a few times, breathing hard, her head full of questions that she dares not ask. Why is he wearing a mask? What is he doing here?
The entire situation screams menace.
And the most important question of all: Where is Renee?
With a lump lodged tight in her throat, Barbara turns her head to scan the apartment.
Jason turns her face back to him, his gloved fingers under her chin unrelenting. "Why are you here?"
"I…Renee forgot her ID at the gallery." Barbara holds the ID up for him to see.
Jason turns his eyes to the ID card, then back to her face. "You came here, you knocked on the door, but no one answered, then you left." He pauses. "Send the cop a text to tell her that you tried to drop off her ID but she wasn't home."
He lets go of her. "Go now."
Just like that. He expects her to ask no questions and dutifully obey him. But she can't.
Barbara's breaths come out in small pants as her eyes follow Jason around the apartment, her feet rooted to the floor. She watches his movements, her heart pounding like a drum roll out of control.
And she can only gasp in horror when Jason walks behind the sofa and hauls a body up by the arm.
Renee slumps in Jason's grip, unconscious, with dark glossy hair draping over her face. Jason grabs the telephone receiver beside the couch and swiftly wraps its cord around her neck.
"No! No," Barbara cries, alarmed. She moves towards them, but stops in her tracks at Jason's threatening stare. "Why?"
"You know why."
Because they kissed? "I swear there's nothing between us!"
Jason loops the telephone cord around Renee's neck one more time. "This is what I could've done to you. Now get out."
"Sh-she's a cop!"
Jason pulls the cord tight, his muscles taut with strain.
"No!" Barbara chokes.
Many people have failed her in her life, even Renee. But she did try to care for her; she did try to harbor her from all the harshness in the world. She doesn't deserve this. Not her…
Barbara watches helplessly as Jason crushes the life out of Renee, whose body remains limp and defenseless against his assault. Barbara cannot breathe, she cannot even blink. It's like Jason is strangling her as well.
Then she catches something shiny out of the corner of her eye.
Just a few feet away from her lies a black and shiny object.
Renee's gun.
Barbara scrambles over and does the unthinkable.
She picks up the gun and points it at her boyfriend shakily. "Jason…please…let go."
Jason eyes her gun and says slowly, "She is that important to you."
"It's not like that!" Barbara counters indignantly.
"Do you even know how to use that?" Jason's eyes are amused, so sure of himself, and Barbara can imagine a smirk beneath his mask.
And he is right, she has never used a gun before.
She holds the gun tight with both her hands, her hands clammy and numb. "Please…" she pleads, on the verge of tears.
"It's now or never," Jason says, his arms unyielding, his eyes mocking. "How long do you think it'll take before her brain's dead?" He gives the cord another forceful pull.
Not long. The clock in her head ticks, amplifying the pounding of her heart. It is distracting.
"Please…don't…"
"Just to be safe, maybe I'll just break her neck." He frees one hand and grabs Renee's throat sadistically, obviously enjoying Barbara's distress.
BANG .
The gun recoils and Barbara falls back. One glance at Jason and her eyes widen in terror. "No…no, oh God."
Renee lies on the floor, unharmed. Beside her, Jason is clutching his arm and grunting in pain; blood gushes out from his gunshot wound.
Barbara crawls over quickly, her face paper white and concerned. That was only supposed to scare him! "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
He slaps her across the face hard and she falls on the floor, his blood staining her face. "Treacherous bitch," he says through gritted teeth. How. Dare…
Barbara whimpers, tasting blood from where her teeth cut the inside of her mouth. Her cheek burns and her eyes water. She blinks her tears away and scoots back to him. "Here." She takes off her scarf.
Jason takes her scarf and ties it around his injured arm tightly. Barbara steals a glance at his face and swallows hard. Beads of sweat break out across his forehead, and his eyes blaze with agony and extreme anger. Her hand itches to touch him, but she knows better. If he was angry with her before, now he is murderous.
She helps him stand up, then they hear the sirens of police cars.
"Fuck," Jason curses. "Roll up the rug and give it to me."
Barbara hurries to obey.
He takes the blood-stained rug and gives the area one last look. Then he strides towards the door, and Barbara moves to follow him.
"You stay," he orders harshly. "Stall them. Act shocked. Give me an hour before you tell them the truth. You found a man attacking your girlfriend and you shot him. Clean the blood on your face."
"Don't forget," he added, giving her a betrayed look, "if I fall, you fall."
Then he leaves the apartment, leaving Barbara abandoned and crying.
X X X
Barbara manages to sit through the entire time which she gives her witness statement, though her mind is as restless as the Gotham ocean. How is he? Did he find a doctor to take out the bullet? Did he make it home?
As soon as she is done she rushes back to Jason's apartment building. She punches the elevator button repeatedly, as if that would drive the elevator to run faster.
The elevator door opens with an annoying ding.
Barbara runs into the parking lot, her stilettos clicking against the concrete floor loudly. Her heels hurt her feet as she runs, but she does not slow down. She only comes to a halt when she finally sees the familiar black sedan.
She walks up to the car and places her hand on its hood, and relieved tears instantly spill down her cheeks.
The hood is still warm. Jason must have just gotten back. He is fine.
Barbara runs her hand over the shiny surface of the car longingly.
She can mouth off to him and get away with it. She can even kiss Renee and get away with it.
But there is no coming back from what she did today.
She can't stay.
X X X
"Where is she?" Jason asks, his voice strained with vexation.
She was last seen at the train terminal, but we don't know which train she boarded.
"Is there any way to find out?"
At this point it's impossible to be sure. She didn't use her credit cards, bank cards, didn't use her cellphone. She is running.
"Tell me something I don't know," he spits, losing patience.
I'm sorry Mr. L., we'll keep looking but we'll need more time.
Jason hangs up and throws his phone across the room. He gulps down a full glass of wine and hurls the glass through the room as well, and the sound of shattering glass fills the silent space.
"Barbara Kean, Barbara Kean, Barbara Kean…" He places his hands on his hips and paces around the room, muttering her name like some kind of magic. Like a spell. As though she will materialize at his command. His eyes are bloodshot and he looks tired, but underneath all that is a savage determination.
He had come back from the doctor and found his apartment empty. He searched every device—he had put a tracking device in her car, one in her phone, one in her wallet—with no results. Turned out she didn't take anything that could be bugged—purses, handbags, large coats…
Perhaps he has revealed too much of himself during their time together. She knowshim as much as he knows her.
She never went back to the gallery. Then he tried stalking Renee Montoya, James Gordon and even Leslie Thompkins…
The private detective was his last resort.
It seems she got scared after she shot him, and she ran.
And she should. Because she was right.
He will kill her. If he ever sees her again, he will kill her.
11
Three months later…
Barbara puts a cigarette in between her lips and pulls out a lighter. She clicks the lighter on, a spark comes up, yet no flame. She clicks again, still no flame.
Then someone holds out a lighter for her.
She dips her head and lights her cigarette, drawing the smoke deep in her lungs. She never used to smoke, still does not enjoy it. But it reminds her of someone worth remembering.
"Thanks," she says coolly, exhaling a puff of smoke.
The man sits down next to her, a bit too close. "Hi, name's Jason."
That catches Barbara's attention. She looks up at him, and refrains from scoffing in his face. "I'm not interested."
Jason is a very common name, she silently berates herself. It is ridiculous to get her hopes up every time she hears that name.
Her fingers start stroking her thigh unconsciously, where the name is carved into her skin.
She ran far, but she wonders if a part of her yearns to be found.
"Come on, at least let me buy you a drink," the man says, wrapping one arm around her shoulder.
Barbara drags in another intake of tobacco. "I don't want a drink."
"You came here for a good time, we can have a good time. Just let me show you," the man whispers in her ear and places a hand on her thigh, squeezing sensually.
"If you ever let anyone touch that beautiful body again..."
Barbara jumps up at his touch, and before she registers her actions she has picked up a beer bottle off the table and crashed it against the man's head.
The bar quiets down and all eyes are on her. Barbara sucks in a shaky breath, realizing what she has done.
The man on the floor groans in pain, his hand clutching his bleeding head. "What the fuck? She's crazy. She's crazy!"
Barbara looks around her, terrified, and his statement reflects in everyone's eyes.
She is crazy.
She drops the broken bottle and runs.
12
Gotham Daily Mail:
THE OGRE STRIKES AGAIN!
Author's note:
I have no clue what car Jason drives LOL I do know that it's black though.