With Jack unconscious and bleeding, the ride to her house felt terribly long. For most of the ride, she was fighting the grey haze that crept into the edges of her vision. Passing out would be the worst thing that could happen right now. She couldn't trust these men to look out for anybody but themselves.

As they finally turned down the long road out to her house, she was hit with a burst of adrenaline. She sat up straight, looking out at the road ahead of them until they could see the large contemporary house in the distance. She realized she needed to think about what to do. She had snapped out of the sleepy state and was thinking clearly now. She had an idea.

"That's it right there."

"You live out here, in the middle of nowhere?" asked the driver.

"It's better out here," she said. "Now listen, guys. When we get there, I have a spare key hidden inside the bunny statue in my yard. You can go inside and in my basement, I have a ton of beer and a TV. You can relax while I take care of your boss. Randy and you," she turned to the other guy who had helped pull Jack out of the car, whose name she still didn't know. "You bring Jack upstairs to my guest room. Okay?" She looked around at everyone's faces. Randy and the other man nodded in agreement. The four she had promised beer to all looked at each other, smiling.

"Alright," said the driver. "Sounds good."

"Good." she said, relaxing a little. She looked down at Jack's face. She lifted the towel off his head, but quickly pressed it back to the wound as fresh blood still streamed from the gash. Once they got him inside, she could get a closer look at how deep it was and do her best to treat it.

They drove up the gravel driveway and parked. The four men, in a hurry to get their free beer, got out of the SUV and practically ran, finding the spare key and filing into the house.

"Guys, I have to go in there right now. take him upstairs." Eva said, opening the door and running inside leaving the two to carry their boss out of the car.

She had just gotten inside when she watched the four goons enter the basement door that was under her stairs. She stood silently at the top of the basement stairs, watching the men pile into the room, not seeing her behind them. She grabbed the basement door and slammed it shut, locking the four locks she had installed on it. The men started yelling, complaining that there was no beer, and shouting curse words.

She took a step back as someone tried the doorknob and then started banging on the door when they realized it was locked. She held the gun firmly in her hand as she listened to them kick the door. She was glad it was thick, sturdy oak otherwise they would have easily broken it open already with the first kick.

She heard the other two goons enter the house, each holding opposite ends of their boss. She looked at them and pointed in the direction of the stairs. "It's the first room on the right."

As they took him up the stairs, she turned back to the basement door. The men were quiet now, which concerned her a little bit. She waited, listening, wondering what they were doing. She made the decision to leave them alone, hoping they wouldn't manage to break down the door. She ran up the stairs and down the hall to the doorway of the guest room.

Her eyes fell upon Jack who was now laid in the bed, so still and lifeless compared to his usual theatrical, animated self. She had a flashback to the horrible dream she had this morning. Her throat ached and tears welled up in her eyes, reliving the horrible feelings she had tried to push out of her mind today.

The goons turned to her, waiting for her to say something. She saw them look at her, and she tried to quickly wipe the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand but they could see clearly that she was crying. She spoke, her voice shaking. "I just locked the other guys in the basement... they're pretty angry because I lied about there being beer."

"You locked them in your basement?" asked Randy, his brows raised in disbelief.

She shrugged. "I don't know how else to manage them all, Randy. I just need you to help me keep everyone else under control until your boss wakes up. I will pay both of you. I'll pay you however much he normally pays you."

They looked at each other and shrugged. "Okay. We'll do whatever you want, as long as there's money in it for us." he smirked. Eva nodded, pleased that she had help.

"What's your name?" she asked, looking at the other guy.

"Benny." he said. She nodded, wiping another tear from her eye. "Okay. Cool,"

She sniffled. She felt so vulnerable and silly right now when she was trying hard to be intimidating and authoritative. Here she was, all 88 pounds of her, holding a gun she didn't know how to use in her trembling hands, crying in front of large men who worked for a criminal mastermind who could easily turn on her if they chose to. The idea was overwhelming, but she was doing this for Jack. She would do anything for Jack.

She composed herself, clearing her throat. "Benny. Will you go downstairs and make sure the others don't break the basement door and kill us?"

"Yes, ma'am." He walked past her and down the stairs, leaving her alone with Randy and Jack.

"Randy?" She said, her voice still a bit unsteady.

"Yeah?"

"Get the dark blue duffel bag out of the hall closet."

As he went to retrieve the bag, Eva fastened the gun into the holster under her shirt and walked over to Jack's unconscious body.

She slowly got down to her knees, kneeling beside him to look at him, watch his chest rise and fall. She held his hand that lay limply by his side between her two hands, the warmth reminding her that he was alive despite how still he was. Still, worry was etched on her face. She couldn't take him to the hospital. Not only was she unsure of the quality of care such a criminal would receive in Gotham, but she also knew that he would be thrown straight into Arkham Asylum the moment he woke up. She wouldn't let that happen to him.

Randy returned with the black bag, carrying it on his shoulder. He brought it over to where she sat, setting it on the floor next to her.

"I just need to wash my hands really quick. Just stay right here." She stood up and ran to the bathroom, washing her hands twice. She took a clean washcloth from the drawer and wet it before she returned to the room.

She walked up to Randy and handed him the cloth. "Hold that for a sec."

She crouched down and dug through the bag, pulling out gauze, bandages, and streri-strips and putting them on the bed. She stood up and took the wet cloth from the goon before she crawled up on the bed by Jack, leaning over him as she very slowly peeled the towel away from his wound. She looked at it closely. She was relieved to see that it wasn't nearly as deep as it seemed, and it wasn't bleeding like it was before.

"This isn't as bad as I thought. But he definitely has a concussion."

Randy walked over to see, curious to see what she was going to do. "So, what do ya do with that? Wrap it up with bandages?"

She sighed, thinking. "I think I should try to close it first," she said as she began unwrapping the strips.

The Joker's goon continued to watch as she gently taped the laceration shut, surprised at how small and clean it looked now that it was closed. She placed square gauze over it, then took a roll of gauze and wrapped it around his head a couple times to secure the gauze pad.

When she was done, she turned to Randy. "Does it look alright?"

"Yeah. It's interesting how you taped it closed like that. Thought you'd have to sew 'em up."

She looked at him like he was ridiculous, but smiled. "I'm no doctor. If I tried to suture him, I'd do more damage."

Randy smiled back at her. "Well, you did good for not being a doctor," he looked at the little gash that was above her eyebrow where her head hit the back of the seats, streams of blood had run down her face to her jaw and were now dried with a strand of her hair stuck to it. "gonna clean yourself up now?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused. Then she remembered hitting her head on the back of the seat. "Oh, do I have a bruise?" she asked, reaching up and feeling her forehead.

"No, you're bleeding." He said, stepping toward her. He picked up the washcloth from the bed. She realized what he was doing, and grabbed his arm as he raised it, attempting to wipe away the blood on her face. She glared at him as she shoved his arm away. "Don't touch me! I can take care of myself!" She snapped.

Randy looked shocked at her sudden reaction, but dropped the rag, holding his hands up. "Alright, I'm sorry. I was just trying to help." He turned and walked over to the chair in the corner, sitting down. He kept his gaze on the floor. She watched him, feeling guilty, but also wondering why such a big, burly dude who worked under the Joker had been so easily embarrassed.

"Sorry, I just don't like to be touched." She whispered. Randy looked up at her briefly before looking away again. "It's cool. I understand. I'm sorry."

She shook off the pang of guilt and turned her attention back to the Joker. She realized she hadn't checked anywhere else on his body for injuries. She untied his tie and unbuttoned his green vest and then his blue hexagon shirt, opening it to reveal his torso. Her small fingers pressed around gently on his ribs, checking to see if any were broken. She was relieved that none were. She looked down at his legs. They seemed fine, and she didn't want to remove his pants. It would be humiliating for anybody, especially someone as powerful as the Joker, to awake both injured and disrobed.

She got up and walked over to the end of the bed. She rolled up his pinstriped pants on both sides up to the knees. She took off his right shoe and peeled off his checkered multi-colored sock, feeling his ankle for anything broken.

When she began removing the shoe on his left foot, he groaned and moved his head, his face twisted into a grimace while he was still unconscious. She stopped. Something was wrong. To see what it was, she would have to remove his shoe. She looked to Randy, who was watching wearing a look of slight concern when he heard his boss's groan.

"Can you help me hold his leg still?" She asked. He quickly got up from the chair and walked over next to her, placing his hands on Joker's upper and lower leg. He looked at her, waiting for further instruction.

"It's going to hurt him to take his shoe off, but I have to. So just hold his leg still in case he moves." she spoke quietly, still feeling guilty for the way she acted minutes ago.

"Okay." He agreed.

She pulled the shoe the rest of the way off, Jack writhing and vocalizing his pain while he still remained unconscious. Once his shoe was off, she dropped it to the floor and removed his sock, revealing an ankle that was swollen and bruised. She got closer to get a better look at it.

It didn't appear to be broken. She could be wrong, but she thought it looked more like her own did when she had sprained her ankle years ago. She looked up at Randy, who was waiting to hear the diagnosis.

"I'm pretty sure it's sprained. It must have gotten caught in or under something when we crashed," She guessed. "I think we should maybe ice it and put a brace on it."

"Okay, what do you want me to do?"

Eva thought for a second, looking around the room. She spotted the spare pillow that wasn't under Jack's head. She went over and grabbed it. "Lift his leg really carefully so I can elevate it."

He did as she instructed, careful to not move his ankle in any way. She placed the pillow underneath and Randy carefully lowered Jack's leg onto it.

"Okay, can you go get the frozen peas out of my freezer and a towel out of the hall closet and bring them?"

"Sure." He turned and left the room, leaving Eva alone with Jack. She sat at the foot of the bed watching Jack breathe until the goon returned.

Randy walked in holding the peas and the towel. He had already wrapped the bag in the towel. She smiled. "You've done that before, huh?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I've had my share of busted lips and twisted ankles."

"Everyone who was a kid has. Not everyone knows that frozen veggies are the perfect ice pack." She said as she placed the peas gingerly to Jack's bruised ankle. "Is everything okay downstairs?"

"Yeah, but the guys aren't happy. Benny has been talking to them, I think he convinced them not to break down the door."

"Good. Now I need you to get out your phone. It has a memo feature, right?"

"Uhh, yeah?" He replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket and flipping it open.

"Let me see it."

He reluctantly handed it to her. She took it and opened the memo pad. She began typing up a shopping list:

Ankle stabilizer

Gauze

Bic razors

Air horn

She handed the phone back to him. He looked at his phone, reading the list before giving her a weird look. "Is this a shopping list?"

"Yeah. Will you go to CVS and get those things for me?"

"Well, you're paying me, right? Like I said I'll do whatever you want if I'm gettin' paid to do it."

"Of course. Let me get the cash and I'll give you the keys to my car."

She left the room and walked down the hall. In her room, she grabbed a one-hundred-dollar bill from the top drawer of her dresser, and the key to her car from her nightstand. She brought them to Randy.

"My car is in the garage downstairs. Oh, and you can keep whatever change is left."

"Damn, ya really are loaded, huh?"

She rolled her eyes. "I guess."

The goon put the money in his pocket. "Alright, be back soon." He said, walking out of the room.

As soon as he was out of the room, Eva shut the door. She turned to Jack, walking over and climbing in next to him in the king-sized bed. She curled up on her side facing him. She was exhausted and overwhelmed, and the dream she had last night still troubled her deeply.

She let the tears flow freely now that nobody was there to see. She blinked to clear them away so she could watch his chest rise and fall. It was the one thing that made everything feel okay. Knowing Jack was alive.

She placed her hand on his warm chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palm. She smiled peacefully.

With her hand still on his heart, she drifted off, finally succumbing to the fatigue that she had been fighting.