Happy holidays and Happy New Year 2020 to all of you!!
Warning: Sex
Deranged murderer Jerome Valeska fell onto his own death.
Gothamites were never safe anyway. I hate myself. I was starting to feel it: losing hope. It was like a splash of icy water on my body. I finally get it. Gotham will never be cured. It will rot, driving the people here mad. I contemplated to move out of this city, either to my parents' place or Hassan's or find another new place. Hassan is almost finish with his studies. He still has about a month left. Perhaps we could move out after his studies.
I threw the newspaper, not wanting to read anymore. The people that Kyle had sent were apprehended by the officers and sent to jail yesterday. But we still have officers waiting outside the hospital room, since the protective custody is still active. Officer Ralli visited last night, for statements and informing me that they would still need to seal my old apartment for crime scene investigation. For the murder of Kyle, it was written as self-defense, but he said that I might be called back again.
Malik and Mrs. Wellers were safe. Thankfully, she was watching the news and saw that I was taken by Kyle. Then, she packed up Malik's essential before rushing down to report to the officers who were guarding them. They agreed that the GCPD was a safe place to stay for a while. So they were there until Kyle's men were captured and then, the officers escorted them to the hospital to see me and my husband. I broke down crying when they visit last night, hugging both very tightly, repeating my gratefulness to Mrs. Weller for protecting my child. They returned back to Mrs. Wellers' apartment, still guarded by the police.
I yawned and stretched my body on the couch. Since Hassan had special privilege in Gotham General, the doctor put him in a very nice hospital room. I would have mistaken the place as a hotel suite. The place was comfortable. The couch too. But I couldn't get a blink of sleep even though I was exhausted. The room was more private as well; I could perform my prayers without people peeking over the window or door curiously.
I did it, my inner-self dejectedly said. I shot Kyle in the head and he died. I took a life.
It was self-defense, as Officer Ralli said, I reminded myself. Kyle was about to kill Hassan in front of me. I shook as I remembered pulling the trigger. My first kill and hopefully my last.
A presence sat next to me and I almost jumped in surprise. "You should stay on bed," I mumbled without looking at him. "Doctor said you can go today, maybe before evening comes. Go rest."
"I think you're the one who should be resting," he commented, palming my cheek and turning my face towards his. "Wifey, sleep." He patted his thighs, not verbally asking me to lay my head on his lap. I scoffed and shook my head at him worrying about me. It was his life that was threatened, not mine. But I slid down and did it anyway, because I knew he would insist. His fingers ran on my head over my headscarf, massaging lightly. "Close your eyes." And I did, focusing on the gentle touches. Then I felt two fingers put pressure at the spot between my brows. "And relax." I must have furrowed my eyebrows unknowingly. After a while of relaxing massages, gradually I feel into deep slumber.
"Sarah. Honey, wake up."
Someone was shaking my shoulder, rousing me up. I swatted the person away and turned my back towards the person.
"Sarah, wake up. It's almost time to go home. You haven't done your Asr prayer because you sleep in. And I know you'll be mad at me for not waking you up," Hassan's voice continued.
Oh, right. My prayer. Rubbing eyes, I sat up and smacked my lips. "What time is it?"
"Almost 5pm. Malik is here."
I immediately opened my eyes when Hassan said that. Mrs. Weller was sitting across at the other couch, holding Malik in her arm. He was sleeping soundly. And a smile reached my lips at the sight of him. "You snore like a man, Girl," Mrs. Wellers dissed.
"That's the last thing that I should be worried about," I rolled my eyes. Snoring is normal. I stood up and stretched my whole body before dragging my feet to the toilet to do my ablution for my prayer. In less than ten minutes, I had finished my prayer and then we went home in Mrs. Weller's car. Hassan sat at the shot gun while Malik and I at the back. I was spending my time cooing my baby boy and humming some random tunes for him.
Once we reached home, we rested on our bed. Malik was sleeping soundly in the nursery. "You okay?" Hassan whispered. I bit the inside of my cheek at his question, and I didn't look at him. "Sarah…"
"We'll leave Gotham after your studies," I disdainfully said. I knew I was being harsh but I can't help but feeling responsible for all of the things that happened to us. If Mrs. Weller did not have a quick sense, Kyle would get his hands on Malik, and he might die. Now, Hassan is hurt because of her.
"Babe, look at me."
Timidly, I set my eyes to his. "It is for the best of all of us to move out." I persisted. He placed his hand to my hair, caressing tenderly.
"Maybe," he answered. Maybe? Other places are far safer than here. Anywhere but here. "But what if it's a bad thing to move out?" he shrugged, earning a glare from me. "I mean, things are terrible here but I thought you would like it to change for better. It is a very big dream, but shouldn't we keep on dreaming or nothing will change. Everything's gonna be okay."
That is total bullshit. Everything's gonna be okay? Really? "You're dancing with the truth, buttercup," I bitterly snickered.
"Aren't we all? Let's not worry about whether we're gonna stay here or not. I just hope you continue do good things to others; giving them hope, like you always did."
But the thing is I don't see hope anymore. I gulped and said, "If things go sideways…"
"If things go sideways," he cut off. "We have each other." I let out a tired laugh because usually I would be the one who was overoptimistic. "You were trying to save me. That's why you have to shoot him."
"I know. I don't feel bad about that," I lied."No more threats for us now."
"No, you felt something. You're worried if you have to take more people's life to protect us," he briefed, clearly understood me. But I don't want to listen to any of that so I made an attempt to get up. "Listen," he uttered. I stopped my movement. "Don't be too hard on yourself. Share your pain and happiness with me. That way we can strengthen our bond."
He's not wrong. He's not. Everything here is just a mess. A huge fucking mess.
Then, I broke down again like yesterday but at the moment everything just spilled out. Everything just crumbled in straightaway. The hypnosis, Dinah, the rape, the pregnancy, my first kill. I wept and wept against Hassan's shoulder as he pulled me closer to him, caressing me tenderly.
"I a-asked the precinct to find out about Kyle's parents because I want to apologize for t-taking their son's life but he was an orphan with no family since he was e-eight and he was never adopted. To whom should I apologized?" I cried, hiccupping once in a while.
"You need to ask for your own forgiveness. Forgive yourself," he whispered against my hair.
"You know what Bullock said to me? Suck it up, tomorrow's another day. That's his a-advice. He's right. I can't change the past. I just have to l-live with it."
He moved to look at me. "Together. We live with it together. You're not alone."
Hassan kissed my cheeks tenderly before focusing on my lips. I returned the treatment, pulling him closer to me. Moving on top on him, I poured everything in the kiss and it turned passionate. Warm sparks tingled at the places that he touched.
We began to undress each others, running our fingers to each other's skin, recalling every touches that we know would be pleasurable. This would be our first love making after I gave birth to Malik. Our movements were soft and unhurried. And I loved it though I have to be careful with his suture.
He moaned when I flicked his nipple with my finger. Loving the sound, I did it again, running my lips against his jaws and neck. His hands caressed my hips and bottom, kneading them. I could hear my heartbeat drumming so quick and loud. Both of us were breathing heavily. I moved my pelvis against his. Even though my underwear and his boxers prevented our skin to touch but the friction was very arousing.
I sighed, grinding our crotches again, harder.
Grunting, he turned us over with him on top of me. I was about to ask about his wound but I didn't because of his actions afterwards. My head pressed against the pillow and my body arched as he enclosed his mouth on my nipple. I was a moaning mess when he kept on giving his attention on my breasts. After a while, I pushed him away because I was worried.
"Your stomach…" I breathed harshly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm more than okay." He kissed my lips again. I moaned when he slightly bit my lip. "Right where I'm supposed to be."
Deliberately, I slithered down, leaving trails of kisses down to his chest then I slid off his boxers and my underwear. The sight of his hard length made me shudder in anticipation. Biting my lip, I took hold of his shaft in my hand.
"Ah... " he hissed while I rub it gently, guiding it towards my opening.
"Please," I whined. "I want you."
He pushed inside, earning a whimper from me. I loved the way he looked. His lips were slightly parted and a strangled noise came out of his throat while his eyes were focused at our connecting cores. I tilted his face towards mine to kiss him deeply. Pulling away, I lifted my hips at the same time, wanting him to move.
He moved, slowly and sensually. We marked each other skin with kisses. It was beautiful. We were caressing each other, loving each other.
My body was on fire.
"Ah. Yes… don't stop," I moaned, beginning to move my hips faster. I squirmed as I felt a familiar feeling coming in my stomach, grinding my hips eagerly. "Ah."
"I want to feel you come, Sarah."
His grunts against my ear made me more aroused. I clenched my eyes tightly as I let my climax took over. My hand gripped Hassan's upper arm harshly when I came, toes curling and back arched off the bed. I faintly heard his compliments about me but I was too occupied with the intense pleasure to hear the full sentence. A while later Hassan came undone, moaning my name in my ear. I shuddered when he pulled out, while engaging me in a lazy kiss.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I whispered after giving a peek to his dressing. I was relieved to know that there wasn't any blot of blood.
"Told you I'm fine," he responded, lying next to me, pulling the covers over us, hugging me closer. I returned the gesture and let slumber pulled me in.
The next day, Hassan insisted on coming to his campus since he only has morning lessons. I can't help but feel concern since he's still healing. So before I drove him to Gotham University I called some of his friends about his conditions and requested them to keep an eye on him.
"Don't overdo yourself. Call me if you're in pain," I nitpicked, slowing down to parking space.
"Love you too, babe. Assalamualaikum." He placed a chaste kiss on my lips. I responded his prayer. Shutting the car door, he waved at me and Malik, who was sitting at the back, as I drove away towards my old apartment.
There will be so many things to do today. I hired a moving company to move out my belongings. I don't think I could stay there anymore with Kyle's prints everywhere in the house. When I arrived at my old apartment, the trucks were already there. I hoped Mrs. Weller showed them the way.
Carrying Malik in a baby carrier strapped on my front, I walked into my flat, overhearing Mrs. Weller's voice, telling them which furniture to take. "Hey," I greeted. I already saw a few boxes lying on the floor. My book shelves were empty already – all books and jig-saw puzzle were in the boxes. There were still some pastries and desserts in the pastry shelf and fridge. "Everything good?"
"Yup. I placed stickers on your stuffs," replied Mrs. Weller, placing her hands on both sides of her hips, watching two men lifting my bookshelf. "Careful with that," she nagged to them.
"The pastries are still new. Let's just give some to the workers and you can take the rest."
Grabbing some paper bags, I put in random breads in mix so that the workers could get different kinds of them.
"So, no more Sarah Bakes?" she asked.
I glanced at the paper bags, reflectively looking at the print on it. Cursive pattern of Sarah Bakes was on the paper bag with my phone number on it. I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.
"No more Sarah Bakes. But don't worry. I'll always visit you, Mrs. Weller."
"Why you would want to see this old hag again?" she snapped.
Malik stirred and whined for a second. I suppressed a laugh and bounced my body to lull him sleep again.
"See? Even baby Malik is sad. He wants to see you too," I smiled. She grunted and stepped away, probably trying to yell at the workers over nothing to hide her embarrassment.
My brows went up when I listened to the newscaster in the radio. I got curious so I grabbed the TV remote and switched the TV on, looking for a news channel. When I got where I want, I turned up the volume. Five banks were robbed in one night? I don't know if I should be impressed or not. They showed some photos of the crime scenes and how the robbers get in and out without getting caught.
Nygma, I thought and I shook my head. Why would he need the money for? His brain is fixed already. Jim and Bullock must have figured it out that it was Nygma's work but finding evidence would be very difficult.
It had been two days after Hassan's release from the hospital. He was healing well. But I was still stress because of shooting Kyle, so I called Mai at noon to book a spar at 8pm. I glanced at the clock on the wall. I have about an hour and a half so I cleaned up the mess on the coffee table. So many colorful papers lying around with colorful pen markers. I was on the process of making a scrapbook of Malik – from the ultrasound picture until the present. The scrapbook is for the photos of his first year. Once he reached one year old, I would make a new one.
Once my Isha prayer is done, I exited the building with baby Malik, driving towards Mai's gym. It was closer with Hassan's apartment, so I reached the place in no time. Ever since I brought Malik with me, Mai never greet me with a kick or a punch, since I was holding him in my arms and it made me feel reassured. Getting hurt as a greeting is definitely not the option I would want.
Mai and I warmed up together before starting the battle. About ten minutes after we start, I already have some lip cuts and bruises at my left thigh. "What had happened?" she queried, avoiding my round kick.
"Why?" I didn't stop and kept on attacking her.
"You're better."
I almost cornered her to the wall but she ran up on it vertically and flipped backwards, right over me, so she was now standing behind me. She wrapped an arm around my neck, strangling me slightly. I struggled but she was already locked in place.
"How am I better?" I grunted, thinking that I'm losing. Then, I bend my body, causing Mai to move forward and smacked her down to the floor. Suddenly, I recalled the time when I shot Kyle, pulling the trigger in slow motion. And then, my fist connected to Mai's nose. I stopped and stared at her with large eyes. A trickle of blood gradually flowed down her nostrils.
She jerked away and jumped, kicking my stomach with both her feet. I flew to the back and laid down on the floor on my back. I laughed and then grunted at the pain after her kick. "I did it! I punched you!" I loudly croaked.
"But you were distracted after that. Don't be too proud on yourself. You haven't beat me," she scolded, wiping the blood under the nose with the back of her hand.
"But it's a progress!"
"A slow one. Painfully slow one."
I sat up and slowly stood up from the floor, giggling softly in happiness. "Whatever, but here I come!" I said, as I charged my body towards her.
Reaching home, I smell a very nice aroma of cooking. Hassan is home early, I thought. I wondered what he was making. I winced a bit as I set Malik down in his cradle, before approaching my husband in the kitchen. I took off my instant hijab and hung it at the back of a dining chair. He was making those fancy soda float and I noticed pizza was baking in the oven. He must have arrived home a few hours ago, because he always makes his own pizza from scratch.
When he turned around to greet me, his face quickly turned appalled. "Babe, honey… Astaghfirullah… Are you sure you were just sparring? You looked like you just fought off a mob," he fussed and grimaced as he inspected my battered face. "This is not a good example for Malik. You brought him with you."
"Oh, don't worry. Malik was facing the wall and I put on some of his favorite music for him," I reasoned after giving him a dismissal wave.
"Of course you did." He rolled his eyes. "But how am I supposed to give you a welcome kiss?"
I raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You can kiss other parts," I suggested.
"I wouldn't refuse that." With a knowing smile, he pulled me closer and brought his head to my neck. Thank God, I had showered at the gym already. But suddenly, Malik cried loudly, gaining our attention.
"Yes, Your Highness. I'll feed you in a sec," I called to Malik, who was probably looking at us. I knew he cannot see us yet with his baby eyes but sometimes I feel like he can. Or maybe my baby is a genius. But then, all parents think their own child is a genius.
Hassan pulled his head back and pouted. "But I need attention, too."
I laughed and patted his cheek. "Go back to your cooking. We'll have time for us later."
A couple days later
"Give it up," I immediately said after Lee picked up the phone. I was lying on the couch, waiting for Hassan to get ready. He took more time to spruce up, especially styling his hair. "A man is his hair," he always told me.
She paused for a second before spoke up. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Oh, really? I thought. She sounded like she certainly knew what I was talking about. I had made a call to Bullock regarding the bank robbery that took place nights ago and he had informed me that there was a high possibility that Lee was in it too.
"That shit you've been doing with Nygma," I said sharply.
"Sex?"
"What? No!" I hollered. I could hear humor in her voice. "Lee, I'm being serious. That feat you and Nygma pulled. Gotham Savings and Loan? Ring a bell?"
"No one was hurt."
"Yeah, that's what you think. Not all people who use those banks stink. There must be innocent people who got affected. Can you imagine how they must feel knowing their money was gone? All their hardwork savings?" I tried to elicit guilt from her.
"Not worse like the people in the Narrows," she harshly responded. "They don't have enough food, can't pay medical bills, debts, clothes, and children can't go to school. But no one care about the Narrows. I have to protect my people."
"There are other ways. Yes, they are slow but they are the right ways… Give it up, Lee," I pleaded. "I'm begging you. And to be honest, I don't think it's right for you to be with him." At first, the thought of them together was adorable, but the ego at the moment is Riddler and it's not safe for her to be with him. I literally recoiled at the image of them together. It was like me together with Oswald. Now, that is an image that I prayed would never happen.
"Not all are like you. Not all are like us. We care for these people and we tried our best to give them things that they deserve; things that they have the right to have, like all the other people have."
She hung up the call quickly before I could say anything. I let out a heavy sigh and leaned my arm on my face. A sneeze from Malik made me rose from the couch and marched to him. I looked at the clock. 9.02a.m. "You hungry, bud?" I asked, wiping his snot with a tissue and then threw it away. I lifted him up and returned to the couch, making myself comfortable before raising my shirt up to breastfeed him.
There was a little 'brunch' party for entrepreneurs and Hassan was invited. So here we are mingling with other people. The facilities in the building are very good; it has a nursery, so I left Malik at the third floor and then we went up to the twelfth floor for the brunch party. Hassan was happy meeting his business partners and colleagues. Today is his last day of school, he just need to finalized things with his supervisor before sending in his papers. So now is a good short rest before he go to campus later at 2pm.
Hassan introduced me to some of his friends. Some are weird, some are very nice and some are snobby. I could handle snobby because I have dealt with Oswald before. It's easy. However what I could not stand is food waste. They put food on their plate but they didn't finish it. They should have put little and then eat and if they are still hungry, they could take more food on their plate. Isn't it simple?
The talk I had with Lee this early morning really affects me. Homeless people dug up trash to eat. It irked me when waiters were cleaning up plates that were still half-filled with food. Scowling, I walked to the drink station and poured myself a glass of cold lemonade and drunk it all in one shot.
A presence appeared beside me – it was a man – and filled a glass of lemonade. "Thirsty?"
I nodded because the coldness of the drink numbed my head and tongue for an instant moment. Then, I turned to face him. He's young, brown hair nicely combed in place, and dressed in a really expensive tux, and he looked like a university student.
A plate of food in his hand caught my attention. "Are you going to finish that?" I asked in a harsh tone. I bit my tongue at my own tone. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. Forgive me for my tone."
"Apology accepted. Would you mind to join me?"
"No. Not at all." I looked around to look for an empty table and led him to it.
We sat down and talked. His name is Alexander Luthor and I could tell that he was a very ambitious man. We instantly have things to talk about since we're both born in Metropolis. He had found a solid business there at a very young age. He's 22, people. 22 years old. When I was 22, I still live with my parents and unemployed. He mentioned that he was in Gotham for a visit as he had heard many things about Gotham.
"The way Gotham is now is what I wouldn't want Metropolis to be," he remarked and I rose my brow, feeling slightly offended by the comment. I live in Gotham now and I considered it my sweet home. "You see, I have plans for Metropolis. It's going to be a City of Tomorrow'. Best city in the nation."
"That's very huge ambition, Mr. Luthor. I'm sure you can do it," I sweet-talked.
"Oh, I will. I know."
The vibe that the man was giving me was almost the same as Theo Galavan – charming and calculating. It was as if he was studying everyone's actions; not just mine.
"Are you here alone?" he questioned.
"No, I'm with my husband. He's the one with the big businesses," I lightly joked.
"Women. Always expecting men to feed them," he said. It was seemed as if he was getting along with my joke but that was not humorous at all to me.
"Excuse me?"
"Come on. It was a joke." He wiped his lips with his napkin. "If you think about it, women always depend on men, right?"
Biting my cheek, I forced a smile on my face. "I hope you have a great time in Gotham, Mr. Luthor." With that, I stood from my seat and stormed away from him.
I don't want to disturb Hassan socializing with his friends so I walked out to the lobby. A man at the counter caught my eyes, so I smiled at him kindly. I will not let a petty young Luthor ruined my day so I came down to the third floor and decided to play with Malik until the brunch party is over.
"I'm free!" Hassan exclaimed after coming home. 5.00p.m. I looked at the time. The discussion with his supervisor must have ended well.
"From what? Responsibilities? Nope. Your baby needs your story telling. He seems to be unsatisfied with mine. I mean all children likes it when I read them stories but not my own son. He really prefers yours." I was grumbling while munching some potato chips. Malik was having his tummy time on a mattress. He's almost three months old now.
"O beware, my wife, of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meet it feeds on," he suddenly replied Shakespeare-ly, earning a fit of laughs from me. Then he picked Malik up carefully and walked to the nursery room and closed the door. Shaking my head, I picked up the TV remote to increase the volume.
I don't hate Lex Luthor. For those who are a fan of him, I deeply apologize. I found out that in some versions of the comics, his behavior is about the same as how I wrote above. So I decided to go with it to add in with the story.