Edward sat on the bed, his hands on his knees, bracing himself not to break out in violent sobs. Bolton's words still hung in the air, like a poisonous gas eager to choke the life out of him. He felt a drop of liquid slide down his face and seep into the now torn parts of his pants. He couldn't bring himself to see if it was blood or his tears.
He was losing hope; all of it was just vanishing. They were out there searching for Harvey, for his last hope of survival. His last hope of happiness and his last hope of an untainted life.
Now they were going to hunt it down and destroy it between their dirty fingers. No one is going to help him, no one is going to come and save him from another beating. He was stuck there, the inevitable pain he will have to go through everyday just like this one for the rest of his life.
He could still feel the anger in him when Bolton opened the door so casually. And with that same sense of casualty he grabbed the back of Edward's head slamming, his fist elbow deep into his stomach.
He fell to his knees, Bolton's fist full of hair still gripped painfully. Going down was his first mistake; Lyell had him just where he wanted.
He then repeatedly brought his face to the wood with so much force; he could make out the dent in the wood created by his skull.
Just when he thought his body would be fair on him and let him pass out into blissful numbness, he was picked back up onto his feet, the ripping of his hair from his scalp going unnoticed to him.
His nose was broken, his jaw was definitely dislocated, and he is going have some nasty bruises on his face, his lip was thankfully the only think untouched.
However the white searing pain roaring through his body was nothing compared to the knife like words Lyell spit.
We found your fucking friends. Lets see how good they are to you when their in my hands, when I break their necks like the fucking twigs they are. Hell, I might even put on a private show just for you. Or maybe if your lucky enough, I would let you give them a go. Huh? Do you want to kill your friends to save your own fucking life, or better yet, not to have to go through every little thing I have planned for you. Oh my sweet little Kitten, I have so much planned for you. My sweet little Kitten…
Edward couldn't help the disgusted gag like noise escape from his throat. That little noise made the pain so much worst, he curled up into a small ball on the bed, letting out those horrible sobs that stung his heart more than his throat.
Joker is going to die, Jonathan is going to die, I'm probably going to die, and Harvey's going to die.
Regret filled him more than his pain, it was actually a bittersweet distraction from the feeling of his body breaking with every little movement he made. Regret of not killing Bolton. Regret of sleeping with Bolton. Regret of trusting Bolton. Regret of leaving Harvey that night. Regret of not kissing Harvey that night. Regret of not telling Harvey how he felt that night.
His mind wandered to places he didn't want to go, but he knew that it was for the best. He had to let it move away from everything. He let it go back to his childhood.
His father's cold fists and equally cold words. It may not have been the best way to take his mind off of Harvey, but it was familiar. In the end he knew he made it out okay, he left home, his father died, he was a respected villain of Gotham City.
Yes it was nice thinking of his not-so-child-like childhood. Because he knew, that in the end of that time in his life, he was happy.
But now…now he didn't know if he would be lucky a second time, he didn't know if he could find a car and hot wire it, he didn't hear his mother and father fighting, he didn't feel the feeling of freedom when he drove away from that dreaded house.
All he felt right now was a new source of hopelessness. One that he feared he would never escape from.
Danny entered the hideout, the story of how he had gotten out alive from the rouges painted in his mind. How he had single handedly 'killed' each and every one of them.
He could do this. Lying to Bolton is going to be a piece of cake. He really hoped that he wasn't saying that to comfort the twisted knot in his stomach.
When did the doors of his office look so big?
He shook his head realizing that he was just feeling nervous and the last thing he needed right now was to be nervous. He looked up and down his ripped up clothes, the few cuts he gave himself with a broken piece of glass would make the story look more genuine.
Right?
With a calming breath…or two, he walked into the room.
Bolton was pacing on the floor, apparently deep in thought about something, his head looked up to meet Danny's soft brown eyes. Then he continued his pacing, Danny took this as the go ahead to start the story.
"We were ambushed when we got to the docks…" He paused watching to see any reaction from his boss. He could say he was worried that he wasn't the least bit surprised.
"…Kyle and Francis were killed, but I-I shot them all sir." His heart stopped when Bolton stopped. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.
The dark eyes seemed to bore into his head more than his own eyes. " How could you kill them all single handedly?" Bolton stood more straight staring right at him. Danny shifted on his feet, feeling his nerves take over his mind.
"Well, I got one good shot at Crane, while the other two were handling Francis and Kyle. C-Crane went down to the ground, and I saw Joker heading to me so I shot him once he was in my line of sight…" Danny paused for a short moment looking at Bolton up and down, using the pure force of will to keep them on Bolton and not the ground.
"…Dent killed Kyle and Francis right there, but before he had a chance to even turn on me I shot him in his back." Danny steadied himself for what was about to come.
Instead of screaming and gunshots filling the air, the same chilling laugh that filled the room that morning did.
Danny stiffened visibly as Bolton stepped closer to him, he placed a strong hand on Danny's shoulder, laughing so hard that tears were leaking out. As his loud chortling calmed Bolton found the voice to speak.
"You...I knew you were a good pick out of all of them….you are something else kid. Good job, boy." The hand on his shoulder patted him with pride. Danny gave Lyell a stern and confident look.
"It was no problem Sir." Danny still was uneasy; his boss was really off his wagon today. It was…odd.
To Danny's sickness he never realized how heavy Bolton's hands were, that once they were off his shoulder he actually had to stretch as if he's been lifting weights.
"Good, now go take more pain pills to Nygma. Also fix up his Jaw again and whatever else is messed up." He waved him off not giving him any detail as to why he would need to check up on Edward again.
He could feel something stab him in the chest, he had to force himself not to sprint out of the room.