Chapter 15: Aftermath

When Arthur rolled off me finally, he lit a cigarette almost instantaneously. The heavy sigh that escaped him blew out a large bouquet of thick gray smoke.

I wanted to sink into the floor, to cease to exist, but of course I wasn't allowed that courtesy; propping the white stick between his lips Arthur hooked his hands under my armpits and hauled me into a sitting position in his lap, squashing me tight between his thighs. It felt so horribly unfair that I was naked while he was fully clothed, with only an open fly and disheveled underwear to hint that he'd been at all exposed. I felt it really illustrated the dynamic between us: me, completely vulnerable and trapped, him, entirely in control. A shiver ran down my spine as his slowly deflating hardness pressed into my tailbone. Arthur wrapped his arms around my shoulders and rested his chin over my shoulder, cuddling me as if we were lovers.

"Here."

He had taken the cigarette out of his mouth and was holding it in front of me, the end propped between his thumb and forefinger.

I took it.

God, why did it feel so calming just to suck on this stupid thing? I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke swirl and vanish into the air in front of me. I was relieved he didn't try to take it back; concentrating on puffing in and out was the only thing keeping me out of the moment, and I didn't want to be in the moment. But of course, Arthur had to bring me back to reality.

"Mia."

Shut up. Leave me alone.

"Mia." His hand cupped my face and dragged it towards him. He was looking at me, staring into my soul with his intensely green eyes, laughing at me with his stupid fake red smile.

"Mia..." His thumb traced circles on my cheek. "I think I'm in love with you."

Was this all just a fucked up dream? I prayed I'd wake up soon.

I swallowed, and when I spoke my voice was high and broken. "Arthur... I... I don't think you know what love is." I made no effort to exhale the next cloud of smoke away from his face. "I-If you're in love with someone you don't... you don't hurt them."

Arthur's hands moved to the side of my torso and he physically turned me towards him. He cradled my head purposefully, holding my face just centimeters from his own.

"Mia... I would never do anything to hurt you."

He seemed so sincere that I almost believed him, despite still feeling the sting of where he'd hit me and cut my face just the previous day.

"I'm going to take care of you forever Mia. I love you." His arms wrapped around me once more and positively crushed me into his chest, my cheek jammed up against his collarbone. The last stub of the cigarette fell to the floor next to us, forgotten.

My tears made light sloshing sounds as they hit my bare chest and rolled down the gap in my cleavage. "Arthur I don't... I don't want this..." I sobbed. "I-I don't want you to love me..."

"Shhh Mia. It'a okay to admit you need me." He stroked my hair rhythmically. "Who else do you have in your life Mia? No siblings... your parents are gone... your husband is dead. You haven't even been reported missing yet."

I hiccuped with grief.

"But it's okay. You have me now. You don't need anyone else."

He was right; I had nobody. I'd pushed any friends I'd had away in my miserable state of mourning and I didn't have any family to speak of. Was it true I hadn't been reported missing? They didn't even care that I didn't show up for work?

Another sob shook my frame and my eyes screamed in protest as I rubbed them raw.

"Shhh, shuush sweetheart. It'll be alright." Arthur soothed. "I'm here."

Warm breaths struck my neck as he buried his head into my shoulder and he sucked in air as if he was trying to inhale my entire being. I felt the bridge of his nose brush my earlobe, his chin skirt across my collarbone, his lips caress my throat. His mouth pressed down, kissing tenderly, and I whimpered in surprise when his tongue ran along my flesh. I pushed feebly against him but his arms were wrapped around me like a cage and he continued to enshrine himself in my hair. I felt a rush of air as he opened his mouth and suddenly he had suctioned onto my neck and was sucking with an unparalleled determination.

"Ungh... mmm..." A moan escaped me; not because it was painful, exactly, but because that area between my ear and collarbone was just so damn sensitive that I felt like I was melting beneath him. It sent ripples of shivers down my spine and reddened my cheeks.

"A-Arthur..."

I tugged at his hair, my fingers delving into his scalp harder and harder until he must've felt some kind of pain - but if he did he totally ignored it, and didn't relent.

"Arthur d-" My sentence was truncated with a cry. The sensation of teeth sinking into my skin tore the noise from me. He bit down, breaking skin and drawing blood. I was crumbling onto the floor yet he followed.

"Ungh- Arthur... stop..." Those two words seemed to be the only thing I could say anymore. Arthur, stop. Just stop.

When he pulled away he paused momentarily about a foot away to admire his handiwork. From the smirk that spread across his face I knew he'd left a mark. His mark.

"You are mine, Mia. My Mi-mi."

I wasn't sure how much time had passed when Arthur finally stood up. He shifted me suddenly, though surprisingly gently, before readjusting his pants and buttoning up his fly. Whatever he needed to do, I apparently wasn't privy to it; he left the room without another word.

The second I was positive he was in the kitchen I ran to the bathroom, bolting the door behind me. My dirty clothes were still strewn about the floor and I began to hurriedly put them back on, no longer concerned about their lack of cleanliness. I felt like my old clothes gave me some kind of protection - what had just happened didn't happen until they were off. I wanted to go back. Go back to before he'd taken everything from me. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I pulled on my shirt and I couldn't help but stop and stare at the glowing purple splotch that embellished the side of my throat, spreading out from the neck of my blouse. I gingerly fingered the surface and shivered; it was like a constant reminder of his presence. My face wasn't doing much better; my lip had had time to swell and a blueish bruise was blossoming above my eye. A sticky scab had formed where his knife had sliced into my cheek. My whole body ached; it was like I could still feel his fingers curling into my thighs and I knew my lower body would be peppered with marks the next morning.

I was crying again. Silent, fat tears were running over the contours of my cheeks before being absorbed into the fabric of my shirt. My knees seemed to give way and I sank to the floor, leaning against the door for support until my temple came to rest against the floorboards. The sobs were starting to shake my whole body and I curled myself into a ball in an attempt to hold myself together.

I was no stranger to grief. It was all I'd really felt for two years. This didn't feel the same though: the sadness I'd felt from my husbands death was so deadening, like it had killed off all the nerves in my body and any ability to feel anything but despair. This was almost the other end of the spectrum; my body screamed with emotion and I felt like I was going to shatter into pieces from the force of it. Images of Arthur's face hovering above mine as he totally consumed me flashed repeated through my mind and I clutched my head as if trying to keep it in one piece.

More of my voice began to sneak into my sobs and I had to stuff my sleeve into my mouth to keep quiet; I didn't want Arthur to come and investigate the noise.

I lay still for a while, blinking slowly, allowing my tears to hit the floor in the same spot over and over.

"Mia."

That was my name. I stared at the underside of the toilet from my position on the floor as reality sunk in once more. Arthur was calling me.

Shit. What if I just ignored him? Would that just make things worse? Probably. I sat up, perking up my ears.

"Mi-mi. Come here."

His voice was a little muffled through the door but his orders were clear. I'd picked myself up off the floor and unbolted the door before I stopped. Shouldn't I just stay locked in the bathroom?

"Mia."

I detected irritation seeping into his voice and immediately obeyed out of fear.

"C-coming." At least if he wanted to talk to me in the kitchen we'd be as far away from the bedroom as possible.

He was at the kitchen table, tinkering again with that horribly suspicious device. I approached the table nervously.

"Here-" He grabbed my arm and dragged me unnecessarily towards the kitchen table so that I was uncomfortably wedged between him and a chair. "Help me with this. Hold these down." He pointed to two flat pieces of metal that sat flush with some tangled red and blue wiring.

I didn't move. I didn't really have any experience with these kind of things but if I wasn't mistaken... that was a-

"Don't worry, it's not a bomb." Arthur was watching my expression and seemed to know what I was thinking. He smirked. "It's just a detonator. Now hold these."

"N-no- I-" Detonator? I couldn't say I was surprised but what was it for? When was he going to use it? "I don't want to help you commit crimes! I-I shouldn't have helped you at the bank and I'm not going to help you now!"

Arthur's fingers wrapped around my wrists and jerked my arms over to the table. He placed my hands over the metal pieces and forced me to press down.

"There. Now don't move."

I shouldn't have obeyed but I did, watching worriedly as he fiddled with the wires.

"Don't think of what I'm doing as crimes Mi-mi. Think of it as part of Gotham's - uh - rehabilitation." He laughed.

"A-Arthur..." I swallowed. "The people who lived in this apartment- d-did... did you kill them?" I finally voiced the concern that had been plaguing me.

He looked up at me, studying my expression. I wondered if he was enjoying how much this was torturing me.

"Why do you ask sweetheart? Do you want them to be? Do you like this place? You want to stay here is that it?"

"N-No!" I squeaked and Arthur grinned at my distress. "N-No I- Arthur tell me. Did you kill them?"

The silence before he answered stretched out, long and painful, and I dreaded what I was going to hear.

"No." He said eventually. "They're on vacation. This was just a temporary set up I got at short notice." He looked up from the detonator again. "But if you want to stay, just say the word and-"

"No! No, no, no, that's fine, I-I don't want to stay." My fingers trembled, as did my voice. "P-Please don't kill them."

He smirked once more. "Alright, I'm done. Thanks for the help princess. This baby is ready to go!"

"W-what are you going to do with it?" I whispered. Why was I asking? Why did I want to know? The less I knew about his exploits the better.

"Hmm I don't want to ruin the surprise." He stood up. "I need to run an errand."

I recoiled as he bent his face towards me but he was quick to make sure his hands caught the back of my head. His mouth pressed down on mine and paused to savor the moment before pulling away.

"Don't miss me too much while I'm gone."

Don't worry, I won't.

It was just after he left that I spotted the empty bowl on the table - the pasta bowl. That wasn't mine. Every scrap was gone, just a hint of Parmesan shavings lining the bottom. So he had eaten it? Wait, why does it even matter? I tore my gaze away. Had he locked me in again? Maybe he'd forgotten? I shuffled over to the door but could already see the heavy padlock when I approached it. As if it was going to be that easy.

I yawned, and it was a backbreaking yawn; my joints creaked and groaned and my head spun with exhaustion. I just wanted to sleep. To crawl under the covers and fall unconscious and wake up back in my old life. I took a step towards the bedroom and stopped. Memories of pain and intimacy and vulnerability crippled me and I knew there was no way I could go back into that room. The room where he'd raped me.

Instead, I crawled onto the couch. I didn't dare take off my clothes, no, I was never taking these clothes off again. I lay awkwardly on the cushions, all bony limbs and aches and pains. Arthur's cruel words echoed through my head.

"Who else do you have in your life Mia? No siblings, your parents are gone, your husband is dead."

I had no-one. The only person in my life was a possessive, psychopathic clown.

"Your husband is dead."

I sat up straight, sweat beading on my forehead. The most important person in my life had been my husband. His death is what lead to me having nobody, to my life crashing down around me. How awfully convenient that was for Arthur. A bit too convenient maybe?

I felt sick. I dry heaved, unable to quell the urge to vomit at the thoughts spinning in my mind.

What if Arthur had orchestrated Ben's murder? He knew where I lived, Ben's name, his career - had he enlisted the services of that murderous brute to get my husband out of the way?

It had to be true.

Ben was dead because of Arthur.

Which had an even worse implication: Ben was dead because of me.