I hate waking up like this.

I'm tied to a chair, my arms by my sides and held tight against the metal with tape. The room is clean, clinical, brightly lit.

I shake my head, trying to wake up quicker. I need to get out of here. Again. The door in front of me clicks open to reveal the man from before, the man who showed me pictures of my family.

"Good, you're awake." I glare at him. "This isn't how I wanted it to happen, Harleen. We could have done good work together."
"What, playing judge, jury and executioner for all of Gotham? Sure, great work." I growl. He sighs in disappointment.
"If only you could see things from my perspective. Your new friends are destroying this great city."
"It's not so great."
"You don't believe that." His voice oozes condescension. "You chose to stay while your parents left."
"I'm here to finish this."
"And not for any other reason?" I know exactly what he's suggesting. My head drops, eye contact breaking; I can't let him read my mind. "You're a lost cause, Harleen. That's what you are. But luckily -" He turns to the door as another man brings in a camera on a heavy stand "- there are other uses for you."

"What are you going to do?" There's no fear in my voice – but my heart is starting to race. This can't be good.
"You aren't worth much in the grand scheme of things. But Jerome Valeska is." As he's speaking a trolley is rolled in, carrying surgical equipment. "And he will come looking for you. That much is sure."

I scoff. "You're an idiot. Jerome doesn't actually care about me. I'm just a toy to him." I don't believe the words, not anymore. But he doesn't know that.

The man frowns, his polished demeanour wavering. Our eyes are locked. Two steely glares, trying to judge what the other is thinking. "That's a shame. I had hoped it wouldn't have to come to this." He reaches behind him and pulls a gun out from his belt. I straighten up at the sight of it. "But if Jerome won't come, as you say, then we have no use for you." He points the gun at my forehead, right between my eyes. "A necessary evil." The safety clicks off. His finger rests against the trigger. My heart thuds in my ears.

"Wait!" He cocks his head at me. But he doesn't fire. "You're right. Jerome will come for me." He lowers the gun, smiling smugly.
"Wonderful-"

"Jerome will come for me and he will make every one of you regret touching a hair on my head." I lean forward, straining against the tape, and the man backs off a few steps. "You've really fucked up now. You're as good as dead." I'm almost proud of the outburst.
"You may be right. But we are well defended here. And you know Jerome better than anyone; you know how his emotions rule him. He'll be reckless."
"You're underestimating him."
"You're underestimating what we plan to do." He sheds his jacket and rolls his sleeves up. "We want him here. And we want him to suffer." His fingers dance over the scalpels lined up on the tray. I'm not so bold anymore. "Imagine how upset he'll be when he sees his precious Harleen being disfigured in the same way he was. Of course, you're alive, so it will hurt a bit more."

"You wouldn't…" They can't. They can't do that.

"But we will." A switch is flicked and a red light appears on the camera. "Say hello to Gotham." I watch him in horror as he steps in front of me. "This is a message for Jerome Valeska, and everyone who calls themselves his ally – turn yourself in, or this innocent girl will suffer. And to prove that we are not bluffing, or lying…" He steps away and picks up one of the scalpels.
"You're more insane than him." I bend backwards trying to get away but it's hopeless.
"I'm saner than anyone else in this city. Now, this will sting." He forces my head back with his free hand and leans over me. I stare at the camera, pleading for someone to rescue me, and grit my teeth as the scalpel slides under my skin.

In some ways, it's not as bad as what Jerome did. It's less savage, more controlled. But it's as though I can feel every nerve being broken and pulled apart. And it's slow going – he started at my cheekbone and still hasn't reached my chin. I refuse to scream. I won't give him the pleasure.

An alarm blares. His hand jolts and I hiss at the movement.
"I will be… back in a moment." He drops the scalpel and moves away, wiping his hands as he slips out of the door.

For once I'm hoping it's Jerome. I'm almost praying that he's here to rescue me. Not that I need rescuing.

The tape around my wrists has gotten slacker. I groan, twisting my right hand. The loose joint pops easily so I can slip my hand out. I free the other one and stand woozily. I guess with everything that's happened I've lost more blood. I stumble to the door, but he's already coming back. I can hear him speaking to someone. I hurry backwards and grab the biggest scalpel I can before I sit back down, holding my arms at my side. The door opens again. His back is turned as he comes in.
"I'm afraid we will need to hurry this up; it seems as though our plan has worked a little too well-"

When he turns I sink the scalpel into his neck. His eyes widen and he gasps for breath, a trickle of blood already spilling from the corner of his mouth. I pull it out and slash at his throat. Blood sprays over me and he falls to the floor. I follow him down and stab his chest again and again. I know he won't survive. I know there's no point continuing. But I want him to suffer. The look of fear in his eyes almost makes me laugh. He deserves this. And then it's gone.

I killed him.

"Boss, are you okay?" A voice outside the door. I grab the gun from the body and point it towards the guard. He's distracted by the pool of blood surrounding us. It makes it easy for me to fire two shots into his chest. He drops. I stand up, almost falling on the slick floor, and make my way out of the room.

"Jerome!?" I call out, but all I can hear is alarms, gunfire, shouting. I choose a random direction, towards the chaos, and begin to limp that way. I don't know for sure who's here, but I can't just wait. I can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins – it's the only thing that's keeping me going.

The closer I can get to the noise the more I can pick out individual voices.
"Where is she?!" Somehow, through everything else, I can hear Jerome.
"I'm here!" My voice cracks as I yell.

And there he is. From around the corner. He locks onto me and sprints faster. I hurry as fast as I can. Just as he reaches me my legs give out, but he catches me before I can fall to the floor.
"Took you long enough." I give a weak laugh before everything goes black.

Something is licking my neck. Something rough. Something that smells like –

"Puddin'?" The dog sitting on my chest barks excitedly at me then goes back to nuzzling. I lift a heavy arm and scratch behind her ears. Turning my head, I realise that I'm in my apartment, tucked into bed.

Was it all just a dream?

It's night outside. The lights of Gotham sparkle behind the windows. I manage to sit up, nudging Puddin' onto the other side of the bed.

Everything hurts.

"Lee?" Lee Thompkins is standing in the corner of the room looking across the city. At the sound of my voice, she turns.
"Thank goodness." She crosses to sit on the edge of the bed. "We weren't sure when you were going to wake up. Or if."
"It was that bad?"
"You've sustained a lot of trauma."
"What's new?" I laugh. "Why are you here?"
"Ed asked me to help. They didn't want to take you to a hospital."
"And when you say they-?"
"Jerome." She doesn't look happy about it.
"He's here?"
"I think so. People have been coming and going."
"What happened to… to everyone?" She stands back up and begins to pace.
"The people who took you? Let's just say they're not a threat anymore." She folds her arms over her chest and looks at me. "I did my best, with the-" She gestures to her jaw. "Luckily the cuts were clean, but they will scar." She hands me a mirror off of the dresser and I examine my reflection. As always, Lee's stitches are neat and orderly, but they take up a lot of my cheek. I shrug, handing it back.
"What's one more scar?"
"I'm going to go. If you need anything, I've left my number." I stand up and wrap her in a hug before she can protest.
"Thank you. For everything."
"Stay safe." I'm not sure if that's much of an option anymore. She leaves with a final smile and I'm on my own. I pick up Puddin' and hold her close. The warmth is comforting.

I hear the door open. In the window I see him.

Jerome.

For the first time, there's an awkward silence between us. I watch his reflection carefully.

"Cute dog."
"She is." I put her down on the floor. "So…"
"So…" We say it at the same time. He chuckles. "Ladies first."
"Thanks for, well, saving me."
"All in a days work." He shrugs, confidence reappearing. "So, you gonna join your family? Go skiing in your chalet?" There's a bitter edge to his teasing.
"It's a lodge. And no." I shake my head. "There's no going back now."
"Why not?" Now he's happy. Hopeful.
"I killed a person. Two, actually. You were right." The admission should make me feel awful. But whatever I feel is… more complicated than that.
"Told ya'." Smug bastard.
"No need to rub it in." He's smirking at me now. "If it wasn't for you, I would never have been there." I turn around to face him. His eyes are dark. Hungry. I recognise that look.
"And if it wasn't for me, you'd still be normal."
"Nah, you can't take all the responsibility for that." I grin. The skyline catches my eye and I move to stand beside the window: Gotham spread out before me. "There's no point running. It doesn't get me anywhere."
"I could have told you that."
I roll my eyes. "Nothing's the same. Nothing's certain anymore. Nothing, except…" Except Jerome. "No matter where I am, you're always one step behind me."
"I like to think I'm one step ahead." He shrugs. Always cocky. Always arrogant.
"Shut up." I snap at him. "I barely recognise myself. But I think I'm more "me" than I ever have been." All of the thoughts in my mind, every feeling, every question, every crisis, are spinning like a hurricane. I turn to look at him. "And I know what I want."

"And what do you want, Harleen?" Jerome stares at me with an intensity I could never have imagined.

"Everything."

I stride across the room and grab Jerome's shirt, pulling him down and kissing him. He doesn't even hesitate before pulling me even closer, our bodies pressed tight together. I lace my fingers through his hair, tugging at it, making sure this is real and he is there and this is happening. And it is. He is.

He pulls away from me, both of us breathing heavily.
"You're mine, Jerome Valeska," I smirk up at him.
"Works for me."

His lips capture mine, and everything else disappears.

Everything but him and me.

That's all we need.