A/N: Well, that was just insane. I still cannot get over the feedback from the last chapter...you guys are seriously the best thing in the world! I can't describe how lucky I feel to have such incredibly sweet and thoughtful readers like you, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get this update out to you. I certainly hope it's worth the wait. :) Thank you so much ClaireReno, Marie Phantom, AlyssaRuin, Guest, NightmareDesire, Firerosemon, dead, SwingingOnAStar, twinbuster2, RachelLynnexx, Guest, Plain Jane Jones, IvorySea, dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE, safire08, Christineoftheopera, KatieBees, Alya Tinuviel, mysterygirl123, The Walkin Gal, Lost Time Traveler, labyrinthloverxxm, Mad Hatter Massacre, InTheShadowOfSignificance, Horror's Bride, cypris88, Guest, weirdgirl312, Guest, Zafrinel, emmanon, sharpestsatire, icantfindacreativeusername, Asiamazing, pickuplinesfromhell, frodowagins13, bip23, ellenmae, scipio96, Nasha, TheGlasglowGrin, xHisahana, Gaibriel Minuit Noire, RediscoveredPokeyHoles, Guest, kittykat6625, Wow, Guest, Prunes, NotProcrastinating, highonbooks, Anna10473, Guest, squirrelgirl890, itsjustanotherbrickinthewall, keeley, Bloody-Asphode11, avaflowers, XxCupcakeAssassinxX, WhatsGoingOn, cretaceous, Guest, MrsServSnape, planetoffire, grlvct, YourGust, Guest, Lupe C, MaggieMcCartney, Lyanna Star, Fragile Dream, Inkaholic4U, EmilyEverlasting, Suki Fictionist, grumpypirate, Guest, SleepySiren, Voldemort, Guest, boom, Jen, Guest, Pancakes, Guest, Norvin, ChristineDaae-ThePrincess, Oh Eurydice, storybook thumb, heart-of-moonlight, silt, Darling-Little-Moon, YoursAnnie, Guestie, Yuki Hikari, Hauarie, AureliaMarie, Kichigal17, WinchesterDixonBros, Guest, P0tions, l0velylexx, OoNakuoO, PirateFaye, Guest, Guest, Charlotte, Kira michi, AAHHH, Childlike Empress, cherryyvanillaaa, , Guest, Sigrid Martell, aela, Ketaria, AkariWolfPrincess, darkfae13x13, Guest, Guest, ChelseaNicoleRoss, Guest, derAngerdromAntic, BubbleHearts, Blackveinedalpha, amandamarrs52, Guest, Logical Fallacy, Nobody, luxbandit, scribbles207, JSblackWidow, Guest, Charlotte, sakurarules4eternity, DianneBaquiran, Guest, Guest, jacknapier1994, Daydreamer003, Beth Hoff, Turtle Kid the Woolgatherer, Lauren1255, Guest, Paige, zazanga, Stinker126, Guest, EnsnaredDare, gReYesT sKiEs, XCeriseX, Aly Goode, Guest, Guest, Floetry, Lind, Bloody Kirai, EllE, Alice, and Eemmah. Enjoy the update!
Remnant
Chapter 14
/
There came a point, deep in the darkness, where I realized I was conscious, but I couldn't open my eyes. I laid there, on something firm and uncomfortable, taking in cold, stale, and musty air - and somewhere, though it may have been in the back of my mind, I heard voices, all deep and firm and reverberating like the voices of wraiths inside my head. I knew, before I was finally able to open my eyes into the darkness, that wherever I was, it was not Matt and Amy's, and they were most certainly far away.
The dark gave way to low, ghostly light spilling in between the cracks of the boards on the nearby window, but my eyesight was too cloudy to see clearly. I laid there, closing my eyes and opening them until they were able to adjust, just the slightest, to my surroundings. It was an empty room, with beaten up walls and a dark, dirty carpet. As I pulled my drool-stained cheek up, I found I was lying on an old, crappy sofa in a sad state of disrepair. I could barely keep my hundred-pound head up for I sensed that any motion too fast would make me sick, so I closed my eyes and eased myself up into a seated position, allowing my feet to touch the floor and my hands to sit idle in my lap. I took in several deep breaths and gave my head some time to settle down.
What happened?
The last thing I could remember was talking to Matt on the phone in the hospital...the hospital that was being evacuated, where Amy was supposed to be and wasn't. Her empty room and talking to Matt in her empty room while staring out the window at the havoc down below, yes, I remembered it all.
And Jack. Of course, and Jack.
His hands on me, his mouth on mine. Suddenly I recognized that the strange taste lingering inside my mouth was greasepaint. I opened my eyes, relieved to find they were no longer as blurry as they were, and I pulled the sleeve of my shirt down over my hand and wiped my mouth, trying to make sure there was no remnant of the clown's face on mine, though it was too difficult to determine in the darkness. I thought of my cellphone, but upon patting the pockets of my jacket, I remembered sadly that Jack had smashed it on the floor in Amy's hospital room.
I had to find out where I was. Where was I, and what was I doing there? Jack was the last thing I remembered; surely Jack wasn't too far away.
I used the arm of the couch to hoist myself up and as leverage for a moment until my knees started shaking. A sharp pain coursed through my left side, though brushing my hand down, I couldn't feel anything except concentrated pain above my hip. Even upon opening my jacket and lifting my shirt to investigate, it was far too dark to get a clear look.
In the corner stood a door with light spilling in from the bottom, and I took slow, steady steps towards it, reaching for the far wall once I was close enough. I was met with the possibility that the door was locked, or been blocked with something to keep me inside, but as I set my hand down upon the knob, it turned and the door swung open into a dark, narrow hallway. Surely this meant he didn't mean to keep me locked up.
I looked down the length of the hall but it seemed to open into nothing, only uninviting darkness, and on the way on the opposite wall stood one other door pulled closed; I shut my eyes to concentrate on what to do, whether to navigate out of wherever I was, or try to find someone, as the voices were clearer and closer. Even though I couldn't recognize any of them, I could make out the distinction between a least a few of them, all male. They would give me answers, I don't know how, but I'd make sure they'd give me answers.
I skimmed the wall with my hand for balance, taking in my surroundings; based on the dirty carpet, the dark colour on the walls, and the odd light fixtures, I guessed that it was some sort of tiny apartment, smaller than the one I had in the Narrows, though that was difficult to assess at that point. I had to stop and let my eyes rest, as they stung from the low light, and I had to give my feet a break for fear of tripping over them. I leaned back against the wall and pressed my hand over my eyes, feeling a wave of nausea hit me but I pressed my lips together, trying to stave it off; I was sure the last thing my body needed at that point was to throw up.
After a moment it seemed to pass, and I pressed a hand to my stomach idly as I took in a few deep breaths, opening my eyes and looking down the length of the hall; it truly did seem to go on forever, like there was no end in sight; it made the blood throb in my temples, but once my feet seemed grounded enough, I pushed myself up off the wall and continued my trek.
I looked at the door on the other side of the hall as I slowly made my way past it; as far as I could tell, there was no sound coming from behind it, so it seemed of little significance…
Until I was past it, and I felt a chill roll up my spine.
I stopped, holding my hand firm against the wall to make sure I wouldn't go toppling over. I held my breath to listen, but there was no sound: no voices, no nothing. I looked over my shoulder at the door, at the brown paint peeling away, at the almost broken brass doorknob; there was nothing special about it, nothing at all, but the more I stared at it, the more I felt inclined to go towards it, to open the door and see what was inside. Something behind it wanted my attention.
Swallowing, I looked down to the end of the hallway, but with nothing to stop me or help me one way or another, I looked back to the door and shifted my feet around to go towards it. I kept my eyes on it the whole time, though there was nothing to indicate it meant me harm; on the contrary, it almost seemed to promise revelation of some kind. I stood in front of it and looked down at the doorknob, and once I touched it just lightly with the tips of my fingers, cold air waved up over my arms and legs.
And I could hear a voice inside. It made me snap to attention, for although it was muffled by the door, I recognized it…low and reverberating, like the rolling of distant thunder. I couldn't make out words, I could only hear him speak, and I didn't realize I'd been holding a breath in until I let it out in a gasp, having heard it again after so long, after so many years.
I opened the door quickly and let myself in, but after a few steps inside, my feet stopped abruptly.
Everything in the room…everything, was known to me.
The massive window stood against the far wall, slanted just slightly so that the rain made a lot of noise on the glass panes, and during the day it made for the greyest, gloomiest light the Narrows had to offer, and at night it was nothing but blackness, save for when the bar across the street turned on their neon sign, spilling green and blue in patterns across the room. Beneath the window sat the double bed, messed with thin blankets and crappy pillows, typically covered with mounds of clothing, and on the dresser against the nearby wall sat the little television, and ashtrays, and gun magazines. Next to the dresser stood the open door to the smallest, shittiest little bathroom in the free world. The carpet was old and stained, and the wallpaper was pulling away at the corners and so badly faded.
The smell of it made tears pinch my eyes. I knew this place.
It was empty; he was gone. I stretched out my fingers to let the cool air of the room guide me towards the bed; my mind ached to know if the sheets still smelled of him. The nightstand on his side was covered with an overflowing ashtray and the clock radio that didn't work after being knocked over too many times. I reached down with shaky fingers to touch the blankets on the mattress, or graze his clothing…
But I stopped, and pulled back my hand, because it occurred to me that it couldn't be real. I was seeing it, but it couldn't be real. I couldn't be back there again, not after everything that had happened…so why was I?
I squeezed my eyes closed and turned my back on the bed, trying to force it all out; I rubbed my face with my hands, smacking my cheeks. "Wake up…" I muttered to myself. No good could come of being back here, not after so long. Not after everything that had happened. He was dead. This place was dead. Who I was in this place was no longer there, she didn't exist, she ran when she was told to and never looked back, no matter how much it killed her inside.
Another wave of nausea hit me and I leaned over to throw up on the carpet, but all that came were dry heaves that burned my stomach. Looking over at the door to the bathroom I stood and went inside, gripping the sides of the sink and leaning down, coughing into the basin in case anything should make its way up, but all there was was dry heaves. The smell of whatever sat stained inside the drain made my stomach even more upset, so I tried the taps, finding that only the cold worked (as per usual) but I didn't hesitate to cup the water in my hands and fling it into my face. "Wake up…" I said as I let the water fill my hands, and I leaned over to push the water up into my face, my eyes, my hair, my ears…I had to get it out, I had to get it all out. It wasn't real, it wasn't there. I was dreaming, I was seeing things, whatever the situation was, it couldn't be there for me to see anymore. It had to get out of my head.
I raised my head to take in a breath and turn off the tap, chilled by the cold water on my face. And that was when I realized I wasn't alone; I don't know how he snuck up on me, but he was behind me, I could feel it…his presence stood at my back like a dark, shrouding shadow coming to take me away in the night, never to be seen again.
I heard the smack of his lips in his words. "Fixing your lip-stick?"
His light-hearted, sing-song tone was like a drill against my skull; I turned my head towards my shoulder, not able to look at him. Not yet. "What did you do?"
"Gave you a shot of brevital," he said, and then I did turn on him, aghast at what I'd just heard. His eyebrows raised as though he were surprised by my shocked reaction, and shocked I was. He then shrugged his shoulders. "You wouldn't have come if I didn't."
He stood far closer to me than I would have allowed in any other state of mind; if I put out my arm I could run my fingers over the length of his toned forearm. He no longer wore the nurse's uniform and red wig, but donned the outfit he'd been wearing when we spoke at the police station, the custom-made pieces that fit him perfectly and emphasized his lanky, towering form. I leaned back against the sink, allowing it to press into the small of my back as the nausea continued to linger and the pain in my side throbbed with recognition. I fought the urge to nod my head in understanding; why was I not surprised, though it made me laugh to think he had to knock me out to get me to go with him. The man had a gun to my head in the hospital, he could have marched me off a cliff and I would have done it for fear of being shot.
"And the hospital…" I murmured, the memories of the gun and the nurse's outfit and the red wig all in association with the havoc, of being in Amy's empty room watching it all happen down on the street beneath her window.
Jack regarded me with a look that was both uninterested and unimpressed, and he put his hands together and made an exploding impression, complete with a half-assed explosion noise.
A firm shudder rolled through me. He did it. I had had no doubt in my mind that he would, no matter how playful he was being about it at that moment. He said he was going to do it, and he did. The rational part of my brain reminded me frantically that Matt and Amy had been downtown, far away from the hospital, and both the hospital staff and the police had emptied it and made sure there was no one left behind.
But that didn't stop the anger that sat in the middle of my chest at that moment, pulsing like red-hot palpitations. The claw of fury wrapped itself around my neck and inside my head; in any other situation, if I had my strength and my stamina, I would have launched myself at him with all the strength I had, putting out my hands to hit him, scratch him, punch him, whatever I could, whatever I could to make sure he couldn't do anything, couldn't hurt another single person.
Alas, I could not; it wasn't the time. But as I stared at him, into his warm chocolate brown eyes smothered in black makeup, I made him a promise, inside my head and out into the air. "I'm going to kill you."
He met my promise, after a moment of consideration, with a smile. A long, thickly-painted, scarred smile, but a genuine smile, laced with fondness, maybe even endearment…a smile that I knew once made him a beautiful man. I hated him for it because I knew he wasn't doing it to mock me; he didn't do it to be cute.
"I'm sure you will," he said in strange sincerity, nodding his head a little as though he agreed completely, the smile lingering for the sole purpose of making sure I saw it. It only made me angrier until his entire tone lightened up, and he stood up to attention and raised his eyebrows at me. "But not now, okay? We're running late, c'mon."
He motioned toward me with his glove hand and I looked at it in disdain; if he touched me, I was going to bite him. If he put a hand on me, whether forcefully or gently, I was going to lose my mind and go crazy. I shook my head, looking into his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
I was sure for a moment that he was going to lose his temper and grab me and make me go with him, but to my surprise he simply dropped his hand and leaned against the doorway, looking at me expectedly. "If you stay here, you'll miss the surprise."
Good. But I couldn't bring myself to say it.
"Surprise?" I whispered, and my voice was far shakier and concerned than I wanted.
"Yeah," he said, obviously not interested in elaborating, and then he thumbed the air over his shoulder. "And if we wanna get there in time, we gotta go now-"
I squeezed my eyes closed to stave off the building urge to punch him right in his stupid grease-painted face, and I raised my hands and held them up in order to shut him up for a second. "No, Jack," I said forcefully, and looked him directly in the eye. "Whatever it is you're planning, I'm not doing it, I won't be a part of it."
His eyebrows furrowed, but not in the dangerous way I'd seen in the past. He looked like a little kid expecting too much from his mother, and wasn't shy in the least about showing his disappointment. But it didn't take long for the darkness to come over his expression, and I could see by his body language that whatever he had planned, whatever this surprise was, it was too big and too important to be dismissed as I had just done. So he stood to attention, squaring his shoulders to me and he took a step inside the bathroom, past the threshold, until he was practically standing overtop of me, and I turned my head, not able to look him in the eye because I knew he was trying to intimidate me, and at that point I could have too easily been influenced in whatever way he saw fit.
I knew why he did it, but I didn't care; I meant what I said. I wasn't going with him. I wouldn't leave that bathroom. And if he had to do something drastic, so be it. I was done. I couldn't take it anymore.
"If you're going to kill me, just do it," I said, loud enough to only be heard between the two of us, but I knew he heard it. I could feel the air about him tense, and I knew my request surprised him. It was likely the last thing he was expecting to hear. But it only gave me the determination I needed. I looked right into his dark eyes, and if I had the strength or the courage I might have wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered it, from my lips into his, as demanding but as soft as his kiss had been. "Here," I said. "Right now."
In the silence that settled so heavily between us, I heard him pull in a breath; he was tempted. I could feel it in the heat radiating off his body, in the breath that left his lips and came tumbling down over my face, in the way his arms flexed and his fingers tightened in his gloves, like they were aching to wrap themselves around my throat and squeeze until they crushed all life out of me. He was so tempted…
But then it was gone. And a strange little chuckle left him, and he stepped away from me, out of my air, so much that my arms chilled from the absence of his heat, and I felt a weird throb of my heart as I watched him turn his back to me, stepping away into the other room before turning on me, shaking his head. "Still none too bright, are ya cupcake?" He said, placing his hands on his hips and giggling to himself as though he found the whole thing ludicrous. "Don't you think if I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it? I've had plenty of chances."
"Then why didn't you?" I snarled, the anger crawling up my throat from the pit of my stomach. "In the Narrows. You left me there to die-"
"Ah, ta ta ta ta," Jack said, his voice suddenly high and nasally, and he held up a finger to stop me right there, which I did, as the change of his tone threw me off enough to shut me up. He waggled his finger at me. "Let's not tell fibs here, gumdrop."
An exasperated growl left me as I put my hands to my face, resisting the urge to pull my hair out and scream at him. "Jack, please just answer me, don't do the Joker thing, please!"
It was as if I'd slapped him across the face; he froze, staring at me with his hands on his hips, but the look in his eyes was so taken aback it was as if he was wondering if he'd heard me correctly. He pressed his lips together in a firm line and his eyes began to turn, ever so slightly, from the playful chocolate brown to that dreaded murderous black. But I stood and waited for it, too angry and too exhausted to back down and submit to his tricks. I held my ground and waited, because I could see he was mulling it over inside his head, so much so that after a moment he nodded, and he swiped his scars with his tongue.
"You want an answer?" He said in a low, dark tone, and then he shrugged his shoulders. "You'd given up before you hit the ground. You left yourself there to die."
I stared at him as though he'd spit in my face. I left myself in that alley? Was he daft? Was he actually being fucking stupid? I felt my mouth fall open as I meant to let out an onslaught on him, but he didn't give me a chance.
"I was there," he said, almost yelling, and the power in his voice shook me and shut me up, silencing all anger inside my mind and lingering on my tongue. "I saw it, you chose to die there."
I opened my mouth to scoff and reprimand him, but it slowly dawned on me what he meant. Thinking back to that night, I remembered he urged me to get up, to walk it off, and when I didn't, he offered to help me and I pushed him away. But even if I pushed him away, surely he should have stayed because he knew I wasn't in my right mind; I was bleeding out, I was scared, I wasn't thinking clearly. The man scared me, of course I pushed him away, but he should have stayed, he should have stayed to make sure I made it through. And how dare he say it to me? How dare he tell me that I'd given up, that I'd resolved to bleed to death in that alley without his help? How dare he!
Jack broke the silence by giggling a little, but it was less in amusement than it was in audacity. "What, you wanna argue that? All right, go ahead," he said, opening the floor to me. "Go ahead, tell me I'm wrong. Tell me everything you had going was sooooooo worth living for, hmm? Your shit job as a maid. Your dead deadbeat battering beau that wasn't around to leave his scars on you, you loved it right? It was everything you ever wanted."
…
He raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for an answer.
But I couldn't give him one.
No…it wasn't true. It wasn't. I hadn't given up…not when things were starting to change. Not when I had a job…a job I hated, sure, and paid barely enough to keep me afloat, but it was a job! A real, paying job, something I could work at, something I could get better at, something that would allow me to hone my skills so I could move forward, go somewhere else, somewhere different, out of the Narrows and into the light.
And Eric…I missed him when I knew I shouldn't, yes, that was true. But I had been fine without him. I had…I had freedom again, even if all I did was sit inside my little apartment watching TV. I didn't have to tiptoe around how much I drank or how much I slept…in the middle of the night when I was woken up by thunder or by nightmares, I could cocoon myself in blankets for comfort instead of cuddling up and waking up sprawled across him with his arms around me. I missed him, yes of course I missed him, there were nights I cried myself to sleep or drank myself into a stupor because I missed him so much, but I didn't miss his abuse, and I didn't miss the way he changed into a different person when he joined Falcone's gang…and I was better off without him. Even if I didn't know it at the time.
I had prospects…I did. Things were getting better. Things were looking up. I had everything to live for. I didn't leave myself to die in that alley.
But the more I stared at Jack with his black eyes staring back at me, revealing the truth…but how would he know? He didn't know anything…except he did. He knew everything. And I couldn't deny that. He knew everything and he always would.
And I expected him to grin and rub it in my face, gloat and brag that I was wrong, and I was weak, and I was lucky to be there with him on our way to do whatever horrible thing he had planned next for Gotham because otherwise, really, where else would I be?
But he didn't. He didn't have to.
The intensity between us was broken as hurried footsteps made their way inside the room before they stopped abruptly, as though they saw Jack standing there and presumed he didn't want to be disturbed. But Jack didn't look to see who'd come to interrupt us; he kept his black eyes on me, watching to see my reaction.
"Boss?" Came the voice of a man - one of Jack's clowns, no doubt. "We've really gotta go."
Still Jack ignored him, wouldn't even acknowledge him, until finally I could hear the clown turn and leave the room, and once more we were alone. We sized each other up for only a moment more, it seemed, before Jack raised his eyebrows at me expectedly. "We good?"
I could have laughed at him. Seemed like nothing was ever going to be good again.
Jack took a step out of the doorway to the bathroom to allow me to leave, but I simply stood where I was, hugging myself for comfort. I thought about refusing to go with him, as I did earlier, but then who knew what he would do: drag me out by my arm or my hair, threaten Matt or Amy, or simply leave me there, in that unknown location, while he went on to do whatever terrorist act he had planned next, and even if I made it back home, back to Matt and Amy, with whatever story I could muster that they would buy about my disappearance from the hospital only a few minutes away from exploding…I'd be a fool to think he'd ever let me go. And even if he did, I'd know he would always be out there, watching me, lurking behind every corner, waiting to do whatever he was going to do next. I would never sleep, I would always be worried about Matt and Amy when they went out the door. I would never have peace of mind again.
He held out a hand dramatically, as if to say come on, and I didn't know what to do.
"What do you want from me, Jack?"
"I already told you," he said, his tone light-hearted as it had been when he came in. "It's a surprise."
I sighed a little, and resisted the urge to smile ironically; I went towards him, through the doorway, and I froze as I found we were standing in a strange, barren little room with disgusting green carpet and dark walls. No bed, no bedside tables, no dresser, no nothing, just dirty, forgotten emptiness. It wasn't the apartment I shared with Eric all those years ago, that tiny little shithole where there was once so much promise, where everything had gone so, so wrong.
And yet, strangely enough, the site of it didn't phase me. In fact, I found myself snorting a little, and shaking my head, and I looked up at Jack, who'd been staring down at me curiously.
"All right, Jack," I said. "Surprise me."
I turned and went towards the hall, with Jack following close behind; on the back of my head, I could feel his Chelsea smile.
/