A/N: And now the second-to-last chapter is finally finished. I'm not going to lie, the jumpiness of this chapter and the fact that my brain kept blanking on me as I was writing this really has gotten on my every last nerve. I suppose it does help that I've been writing this while stressed out and I finished it last night, when I was in an utterly furious mood and acting like a complete terror. There are moments that feel bland in here where they shouldn't, if you ask me, and I feel like the constant jumping takes away from some of the emotion I was trying to convey in this chapter. Still, I did manage to hit all the plot points I wanted to with this chapter. I am not totally satisfied still, so chances are high that at a later point in the future, I will come back and revise this chapter and hopefully touch up those areas that I feel don't have as much impact as they should. As a near-ending and the falling action for this story, it's weak and I find it very unsatisfactory and slightly rushed at moments. If I ever make a major revision of any chapters of this fanfiction, this one and the few before it are all probably going to see the most adjustments.
Chapter 29: And A Chemical Bath
[Lance's POV:]
"Batsy, you weren't supposed to join this party."
I tensed, watching the back of Batman's cowl. I had anticipated he would indeed show up, but the fact he had gotten here sooner than I thought was surprising. Come to think of it, why was he here and the police weren't? My brain supplied an answer almost immediately; assuming the police hadn't thought Eva's message was a false alarm, the rest of the city was still going to Hell, and the GCPD were probably busy prioritizing that. But how had Batman—?
"I tracked you here, not that it was hard. You used this same television studio when you took Detective Tankinson hostage." Batman replied coldly. "Now, let Miss Harker go."
I watched the madman's expression change, twisting into a cruel smile, before he promptly turned to his henchmen, who held Jeanette between them.
"Well, boys? You heard Batsy!"
"NO!" I shouted, breaking away from my two friends and charging forward. "Jeanette!"
Time slowed, just for an instant. The chair flew, something smashed against the surface of the bubbling chemicals, I registered terror in the depths of brown eyes, and then Jeanette splashed into the pool, waves of the chemical crashing over the sides.
"JEANETTE!" I screamed. The surface of the chemical sparked, briefly turning bright lavender, and suddenly its noxious fumes were replaced by a heavy, flowery aroma.
"Ahh, see there boys?" I heard the Joker saying as I ran toward the stage. "So much better with an audience! Wouldn't you agree, Batsy?"
The sounds of blows fell; a fight had started. Somewhere behind me, I could hear Rook and Eva getting ready to join in.
"The bat's got the clown." Eva growled, her voice inhumanly feral. "You take the big one, and I've got the ugly one."
"Which is which, wolf-girl?!" Rook roared at her.
I couldn't afford to keep listening, or to look back. I hopped onto the stage and had to pick my way to the pool to avoid coming into contact with the mess of chemicals. I still had no idea what it was, or what it was doing to Jeanette…assuming she would live through this! My mind was starting to go numb, and I felt like the rest of me was sort of operating automatically. There wasn't the slightest clue in my mind as to what I was doing, but I tore off my suit jacket, partially wrapping my right hand in one of the sleeves, and I flung it over the chemical.
"Jeanette? Jeanette!" I yelled, and desperate hope took up residence in me that she would somehow get free of the ropes tying her to the chair and grab onto my suit jacket. It was beginning to sizzle, slowly turning the black of something burnt, and the sounds of fighting grew louder around me. The rest of the world fell away as I watched and waited, my anxiety spiking. Seconds ticked past like eternities flashing by me as I waited for a sign.
Come on, Jeanette, come on! I thought. You survived two other encounters with the Joker. You were willing to take up with a super-villain to help free me from Dorian's controlling god-complex game. Come on, Jeanette… come on…
Something tugged at the other end of my jacket, and then a hand briefly surfaced, clutching the ruined fabric before pulling it under.
My heart leaped into my throat, and I started to pull. The fabric went taut, and a weight dragged with it. I backed up, pulling the rest of the jacket to as close to the edge of the pool as I could, and, with a ragged gasp that nearly made me jump out of my skin, Jeanette surfaced, clutching the edge of the pool wildly.
"Jeanette!" I nearly sobbed, relief flooding me. She heaved her weight over the side and tumbled to the floor, her burned clothes squishing and sopping wet as she coughed up mouthfuls of chemical.
"My knight in shining armor." She croaked, smiling up at me, and it was then I realized what the chemical had done to her. Her skin was white. Not merely pale, but white, and her eyes were a blood-red with yellow pinprick pupils. Even as I watched, a bright shade of green began to spread out from the roots of her hair, hurriedly changing it like a mutating virus.
Joker hadn't been trying to kill her; he had intended to make her like him.
But why? What purpose does this serve?
"I look like rubbish, don't I?" She sniffled, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "Tell me the truth. Simply dreadful, aren't I?"
She glanced from me down to her hands and froze, her eyes going huge. I waited for her to start cackling wildly, or else to fly into a fury and attack me. But instead, a few tears spilled out of her eyes and she looked at me, utterly helpless in her despair.
"Th-thank you for not answering that." She said, beginning to hiccup. I reached for her, to embrace her and offer her comfort, but she held up a hand and shook her head. "I-I still h-have chemicals on me. I don't want you to get hurt. This substance, it…it burns."
She may have been a stubborn woman, but I am equally so a stubborn werewolf. I looked around, unsure what I was searching for but determined to find it either way. A glance showed that Eva had already knocked out Judy and was turning to help Rook with Punch. Batman and Joker appeared to be evenly matched and totally absorbed in fighting one another. For the moment, we were safe and unnoticed. I looked away again, and motion out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Someone was moving in the shadows, and despite the heavy smell of flowers and lingering fumes of chemical solution, my nose caught another scent coming from that direction. The scent was female, young and somewhat frightened. My ears caught a shuffling noise, and something was half-thrown, half-slid across the floor in our direction.
"A tarp blanket?" I murmured once I got a decent look at the object. It was old and gray, with a layer of dust on it; my guess was that at one point it was used as a prop of some sort for this station and whatever shows aired through this studio. Looking back up, my eyes adjusted and this time I could see the young woman, who was watching me expectantly and tilted her head towards Jeanette in a significant way. I gave the girl the barest of nods and seized the edge of the scratchy material, dragging it closer to us. Jeanette gave no indication she was in pain, but for some reason, I felt nervous and clumsy, and my hands shook as I moved to wrap the blanket around her. She raised no objection but wrapped it more tightly about herself and began to cry quietly. I had no idea what to do, and simply hugged her as tight as I could.
"Jeanette. Jeanette, it's alright. I'm here."
She cried more. A shout and a crash reached my ears; Punch was down now too, and the caped crusader and the clown prince of crime fought on. Footsteps approached the stage, accompanied by the wild, earthy scent of Eva, and Rook's own repulsive smell of being a vampire severely lacking in personal hygiene. He stayed back and kept an eye on the fight while Eva joined us, carefully treading to avoid getting any chemicals on her.
"Jeanette?" she asked, hovering uncertainly.
"Yes?" she replied through her sobs, which were beginning to ease a little. Lowering the blanket slightly to show her face, she looked up at Eva, who stared for a moment in shock before looking suddenly murderous.
"That bastard." She growled, crouching down and pulling Jeanette into a fierce hug. "I'm so sorry, Jen. He's sick."
"What—" Rook started to ask as he turned around, before leaping in shock. "WHOA!"
"Thanks," she muttered bitterly, "That makes me feel infinitely better."
"Listen to that!" Joker suddenly spoke up, drawing our attention. He was backing away from Batman rapidly, while gesturing in the direction of the stage, smiling nastily. "Music to my ears! I said this would be better with an audience, didn't I? What do you think, Batsy? Doesn't Miss Four-Eyes look much be—EEYAAAGH!"
Batman's swings drew closer and closer, and finally he landed a blow that sent Joker flying backward, knocking him senseless. My mouth fell agape; I thought that Robert and I had always been a decent hand at combat, but the dark knight moved like he would have been able to keep up with the speed of any supernatural creature. Silently, I prayed I never did anything to get on this man's blacklist.
"Listen!" Eva said sharply, going very still. "Sirens."
To my complete astonishment, she was right. I had been tuning out other sounds previously, but at the mention of them, I could hear the wail of several police sirens drawing closer and closer. In moments, the doors burst open and officers rushed in, cuffing the unconscious rogues. For some reason, I thought of the young woman who had thrown the blanket at us, but when I glanced back in the direction where I had seen her, she had vanished.
"Miss Harker." Batman's voice made me jump out of my skin and I whirled around. How had I not heard his approach? "I'm sorry."
She looked up at him, blinking her red eyes, saying nothing for a long moment.
"It's not your fault." She replied finally. "You don't have to apologize."
He gave a small nod, then continued, "Please, go with Detectives Yin and Tankinson; they'll take you to the hospital. You'll get treatment."
Some part of me highly doubted any amount of treatment would remedy this for her, but I bit my lip. After all, how was I to know for certain? And in any case, if it was a comfort to Jeanette, then I would stand behind it. Getting to my feet, I squared my shoulders and exhaled, looking him in the eye.
"I shall accompany Miss Harker." I declared as stoutly as I could manage, ready to argue the point if he said I shouldn't. But far from telling me to back down, he nodded again.
"Please do, Mister Pendragon."
"Gotham P. D.!" A voice interrupted. Two detectives approached, both looking far worse for the wear. The woman looked ready to collapse at any second, but there was something fierce and resilient in her dark, almond-shaped eyes, and there was an air of authority about her in spite of her having to limp along, supported by her partner. "Detective Ellen Yin. This is Detective Cash Tankinson. You're safe now. It's all over."
The next day flew past in a hazy blur. Questioning didn't last long; the business that had been going on with the rest of the city blew over, and that was the greater concern of the G.C.P.D. As Rook has suspected, my sister and her friends had played a part in the chaos, and Guen herself had left me a message babbling about combatting some monster invasion, but I didn't wish to know any details about the matter. Ignorance is bliss, after all.
Being escorted by the police would have been uneventful, had not Joker come to his senses long enough to toss a few more insults our way. Jeanette didn't take it well at all, and chose to clock him over the head with my briefcase until he yelped and begged for mercy. My heart had swelled with pride at the sight, but shortly afterward, Detective Tankinson wouldn't drop the matter or shut up the entire way to Gotham General. Apparently he was intent on giving advice about how to best "combat the crazies."
I managed to pull a few strings at the hospital, and Jeanette was given a private room in a wing that was mostly devoid of other patients. She told me more than once, however, that she was of the opinion she wouldn't have been bothered either way, given her condition. She remained gloomy for the first part of the day, until Robert and Eva arrived bearing books they had brought up from the gift shop, and once Jeanette had one of them in her hands, she began to act more like herself again. I didn't leave her if I could avoid doing so, and thankfully we had little trouble in that regard.
Several samples of her skin tissue, hair fibers, and blood were taken, but the doctors doubted they would find any way of reverse-engineering the effects. They even consulted with some of the Arkham staff, but as the doctors at the asylum had all been baffled by Joker's "permaclown" condition, this gave me no comfort. Jeanette was, as far as I could tell, at least handling this with more grace than I, and merely asked not to be shown any mirrors for the time being.
That night came and went with little sleep. Jeanette tossed and turned fitfully all night, and I stayed awake to keep an eye on her. Thus understandably, it was puzzling when there came a knock on the door of the room.
"Visitors for Miss Harker." A nurse announced, before admitting two women into the room. I blinked blearily. Visitors? Jeanette wasn't even awake yet. Who were these women? I blinked again as they inched closer.
"Jen?" One of them said tentatively, causing her to Jeanette to stir. This younger woman was of average height and build, with light brown hair pulled back into an alligator clip and gray-blue eyes ready to spill over with tears. She also appeared to be in a work uniform and apron, and there was a smell of pie about her person. The other woman with her was middle-aged, with graying brown hair and dark brown eyes that were red and puffy with crying.
"Jeanette?" She sniffled, croaking a little.
She woke, blinking and yawning, and smiled at them.
"Hey, Mom. Hey, Michelle." She murmured.
The effect was immediate; the elder woman began to sob hysterically and threw herself forward, hugging Jeanette like she was never going to let her go. The younger woman, who could only be Michelle, rushed to Jeanette's other side, and the three of them began talking in low tones at a rapid-fire pace.
Far be it from me to remain and make things awkward. I thought as I rose from the chair I had been occupying and silently inched out, so they could have some space.
The halls beyond were rather quiet, but straining my ears past normal human hearing range allowed me to pick up noises from distant rooms and floors. I waited for them to calm down a little in Jeanette's room, for the conversation to get a little less hysteric, and focused instead on stretching out my lycanthian senses. Eva insisted that I practice, and right now was the perfect opportunity.
"Are you busy?"
I looked toward the first branch in the hall and found myself looking at the young woman from the other night. Under the florescent lighting and in her severe black attire, she looked startlingly pallid, with heavy-lidded green eyes and long, thick brown hair. She approached with slow, cautious steps and I went still, watching and waiting.
"No." I replied.
"How's Jeanette?" She asked, resting her hands in her pockets and shuffling her feet.
"She's alright for the moment," I answered her, "She's talking with a couple of visitors."
The girl nodded, probably more for herself than me.
"Alright. Okay. Then, can you do me a favor, Mister Pendragon? Can you please tell Jeanette that Xack says hi, and that she's sorry?"
I offered her a smile, feeling just a touch relieved.
"I shall, Miss Xack. Thank you."
She gave me another solemn nod, the faint ghost of a smile flickering across her features before she turned and walked out of sight. I half-considered following her just in case, but decided against it. My nerves were getting to me, and though she had been in the same television studio with Joker and his thuggish brutes, she had done what she could do to help, and my instincts said she wouldn't present a danger to Jeanette.
And of course, if there was one thing my friends went on about incessantly, it was learning to trust that sort of instinct.
"Lance? Lance!"
Jeanette was calling me faintly, but I could hear her clear as a whistle. I went back into the room with a steadying breath, preparing myself to meet her mother and sister.
"What are you doing here?"
I snapped to, feeling ashamed when I realized I had dozed off. I shook my head, looking from Jeanette's tense, bone-white face to where her crimson gaze was focused. A familiar scent of cleaning solutions, strong tea, and cats hit my nose as my eyes fell upon a tall figure walking into the room, leaning on a cane. For a second, I panicked. Dorian?! What in God's name upon the Earth was he doing here?
"I have come to see the damage for myself," he replied smoothly, without so much as a raised eyebrow at Jeanette's appearance, "But if you would prefer I leave…"
She said nothing but scowled at him, crossing her arms.
"To what end, Dorian?" I asked wearily, more than suspicious.
"To help, of course." He answered. "Have I heard correctly that you attempted to throw off the chemical solution that did this to you, my dear?"
"Yes. My sister gave me a bottle of body spray that was in my purse when I was kidnapped. I thought it could possibly prevent the stuff from killing me if I threw off the compound. And a fat lot of good that thinking did me, as you can tell. It was a snowball's chance in Hell, anyway." She replied.
"Perhaps not." Dorian hummed, tapping his cane against the floor and looking at her thoughtfully. "The possibility still exists that you could have kept this change from becoming permanent with that action. Another possibility exists that the condition may not be permanent for you; given that you are a woman and your body is regularly subject to hormonal changes that men won't experience, you may not have to stay this way."
"Do you think I want to?" She demanded hotly.
"Dorian, don't sell us false hopes." I cut in. "I have no patience for snake oil on this matter."
"I wasn't going to." He retorted reproachfully. "I think that I can reverse Jeanette's condition, given time and hard work."
My heart leaped in my chest.
"Can you?"
He snorted. "Would you trust anyone else to be able to do so?"
I narrowed my eyes at the same moment Jeanette said, "I don't trust you at all."
"Jeanette, you don't have to do this," I said, reaching out to touch her arm, "You can say no."
I felt Dorian's gaze flicker onto our contact. It was irritating, but I forced myself to ignore it. Jeanette and her decision were more important at the moment. She turned her eyes upon me, scarlet depths flickering uncertainly.
"How can you even look at me when I'm like this?"
"You're still you." I shot back somewhat indignantly. "A rose by any other name—"
"Would still smell as sweet." She finished before shaking her head. I drew in a breath, steadying myself and allowing the words to tumble out of my mouth before my mind completely registered what they were and stopped me.
"Jeanette, listen…whatever you may appear as, you remain yourself, and you are the single most incredible woman I've ever had the good fortune to meet. I do not care what you look like, and you do not have to go along with Dorian's idea. But if you do not wish to stay like this, you do not have to. The decision is yours, and I shall stand behind your decision entirely, whatever it may be."
Tears welled up in her eyes and slowly cut trails down her white cheeks. Warmth flooded my face as she gave my hand a squeeze, then turned to look at Dorian.
"I'll go along with this for now, but like I said, I don't trust you. And if I think you're going to pull something on either of us, I'll see to it you regret it. Are we clear?"
He smiled.
"Quite, my dear."
