A/N

Hey all I'm back with another looooong awaited chapter. Sorry it's been so long I'm just super busy with stuff and quite sick, but I have every intention to to finish this fic, along with Your Greatest Passion. It'll take time but we'll get there. I have ideas for different chapters but just need gaps filling and the motivation to write these up properly.

A huge thank you to everyone who's stuck with this fic and for all the kind reviews and messages I've received. I always read these even if I'm not uploading and they always make me smile. Reviews are great motivators so thanks!

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy reading and if you have a minute to leave a quick review, I would really appreciate it. They really do help!

Enjoy and stay safe x

Jerome had waited 5 days for Lacey to make contact. He knew she was resourceful and had contacts in high places, so finding out where he was hiding would have been no problem for her. But the days passed by and still no word from her. Not even a sighting of her.

Knowing Lacey as well as he did, Jerome knew that she wouldn't have simply ignored his 'message.'

Killing Hannah had been exactly that: a message.

He wanted Lacey to come to her senses and reunite with him. He wanted that darkness to return, for Lacey to admit that her new life was just an act and return to his side like the loyal companion she had once been. Jerome missed his ally and lover more than he would've ever admitted – that was why he was running out of patience.

It had gotten to the point where Jerome was having Tetch hypnotise strangers and have them frequently check Hannah's apartment block as well as Lacey's old apartment in search of her. They'd even checked Barbara and Tabitha's club, just in case. But they never returned with news of a sighting. Lacey Monroe had successfully vanished.

But the hunt just made Jerome want her more.

"What're you doing?" Lacey asked, casually strolling into Jeremiah's office-of-sorts. He jumped slightly upon her entrance, despite his attempt to mask this.

"Just a few tweaks to the cell." Jeremiah replied, shifting his glasses up his nose, hardly making eye contact with the dark-haired girl.

Although Jeremiah had welcomed Lacey into the labyrinth, he was still somewhat anxious around her because of several reasons: her past as an unhinged Arkham inmate being a main one. Jeremiah enjoyed the company though, even if he was still getting used to Lacey. She was like Hannah in many ways, but also so very different. Whilst Hannah had been soft-spoken, Lacey was more rough around the edges and not afraid to boldly state her opinion regardless of how harsh it might have sounded. Still, it was nice to have a part of Hannah with him, to care for her sister just like she undoubtedly would've wanted.

"You work too much. I'm sure everything's ready for him." Lacey perched herself on the edge of Jeremiah's desk, casually swinging her legs in an almost childlike way. She was wearing a blue sweater, one of many articles of clothing that he'd let her borrow, knowing that it was too risky for Lacey to leave once she'd entered the labyrinth. Jeremiah remarked that the clothes he let her borrow seemed huge on her shorter frame, but in a cute sort of way.

"But I mean, I already said if it's too much trouble keeping him here then I'm happy to just kill him." Jeremiah's perception of Lacey as being 'cute' instantly went away at that statement. He stared at her, wide-eyed, unsure of how serious she was being. "What? You know I would."

Yeah, she was serious.

Jeremiah cleared his throat. "I think we'll just stick to the original plan."

Lacey shrugged, "suit yourself. I still don't get why you want him alive." She said aloud, standing up and pacing over to where the front page article of Hannah's murder hung on the wall. It had acted as a daily reminder for both of them, a reminder that something needed to be done about Jerome before someone else paid the price. A reminder of what they've both lost.

"I know he's your brother but he doesn't deserve to live. Not after what he did."

Jeremiah set his work down and faced Lacey directly for the first time since she entered the room. "Hannah wouldn't want us to do that. Neither would my mother."

"You say that like you were in close contact with them up until he killed them…" Lacey scoffed, before she realised what she'd said. Jeremiah looked hurt and turned his back to Lacey, to resume working on the computer without a word.

Lacey sighed and paced back over to the desk. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm still getting used to being around people that aren't criminals or trying to hurt me – or both." She threw him an apologetic smile. "Being a bitch is kind of second-nature to me, but I promise I'll work on it."

"It's alright. I suppose I'm still getting used to being around people again."

"What about Ecco? She's always hanging around, right?"

"I normally stay in here on my own. Ecco just reports back to me and manages my life as Xander Wilde. I prefer my own company; it's easier that way."

"You must get lonely though."

"Aside from Hannah, I've never had anyone to call a friend. You get used to the quiet after a while."

"I get that." Lacey said calmy. "Before Arkham I was always alone. Nobody liked me – not even at elementary school. I was always the weird kid on her own in the playground. Never invited to parties, never part of any games – only the ones at my expense." Lacey met Jeremiah's gaze. "There's only so many times someone can call you a freak before you snap, you know?"

"If it's any consolation, I don't think you're a freak." Jeremiah spoke sagely now. "You were given an unfair hand in life."

"Thanks…but of course it doesn't excuse everything I've done." A pause. "I'm sorry for the part I played in killing your dad by the way."

"Not as sorry as I am for the part I played in Hannah's death."

"What do you mean?"

"I could've done more to stop this from happening. I could've kept her safe down here."

"Jeremiah, you don't actually blame yourself do you?"

"I didn't do enough. I was never there when she needed me."

"You said you knew what Hannah wouldn't want us doing so you should know that she wouldn't want you to blame yourself. She was so headstrong that she probably wouldn't have listened to you anyway." Lacey smiled sadly. "She never listened to anyone, just her own instincts."

Despite her only memories of Hannah being from the past months, having gained them over such a short space of time, Lacey couldn't help but feel lucky to have such positive memories to turn to. "When I was with Hannah, I just felt safe, you know? It was like we'd grown up together after all. She was my big sister immediately. She…" Lacey stopped, feeling herself grow overwhelmed as a wave of emotion overcame her. Lacey hadn't cried since she found Hannah's body. As soon as the police and the coroner arrived, she became emotionless. Ever since that night, she had been numb to everything. She was mourning, of course, but silently. Lacey had wondered why she hadn't felt the urge to break down in the days after Hannah's murder, but now that it was happening, she would've done anything to stop it.

All she could do was run back to her living quarters. She wanted to be alone when the anger and unimaginable sorrow overcame her. She didn't want to be around Jeremiah, who she hardly knew, who looked so much like her sister's murderer. And her own ex.

As soon as she slammed the door of her room, Lacey screamed. She screamed so loud her throat burned as tears stung her eyes. She threw things, smashed things, all while swearing and shouting and Never had she felt such agonising pain.

She hated Jerome for taking her sister; she hated the justice system for wrongly committing her mother; she hated Gotham City for hailing her father as a successful business and family man – seeing their family through rosy-coloured spectacles instead of for the disgusting sham it really was.

She hated her life. She hated herself for everything she'd done. And she hated herself for still loving Jerome.

An hour after Lacey's outburst of emotion, a knock on the door followed Jeremiah's gentle voice called to her from the other side of the door. "Hey, are you alright?"

Lacey was now lying on her back on the bed, staring intensely at the ceiling. Too lost in her own thoughts, she decided to ignore him.

He knocked again. "Lacey?"

Sensing that he was going to be persistent, Lacey opened the door. As soon as she opened the door, revealing her shaken form, Jeremiah didn't know what to say. He could tell from the dark smudges around her eyes that she'd been crying as well as screaming at the top of her lungs. Jeremiah had never been good at being a shoulder to cry on, even before he isolated himself in his labyrinth, but he could tell that Lacey needed the company.

In an attempt to avoid her eyes, Jeremiah bent down to pick up the tray he'd left on the floor while he knocked on the door. "Um, I brought you some tea. I…I thought it might help."

Lacey stared baffled at him for a moment. Here Jeremiah was, in a secret underground bunker with Arkham's youngest female inmate, who had just spent the last hour having a breakdown, and he thought that bringing her tea was a priority. For all Jeremiah knew, she could've hit her breaking point and have gone on a rampage, destroying his hideout and murdering him. But instead, he'd taken the chance to bring her a hot drink.

Lacey couldn't help but smile though: it was kind of cute.

"Come in." She nodded behind her and held the door open for him.

Jeremiah would've been lying if he'd denied feeling any anxiety at being alone in a now-trashed room with a serial killer. He set the tray down on the bed and picked up the armchair that had been tossed on its side, moving it to its original place and position before taking a seat.

Lacey had climbed back onto the bed and was sat there with her legs crossed, staring pensively at the redhead. She could tell that Jeremiah felt unnerved by her strong gaze but she didn't want him to be worried by her. "Don't worry, I took all my anger out on the furniture…and the door…and the walls…" She let out a breathless laugh. "I'm done now. I'm not going to hurt you." A pause. "Sorry for scaring you."

"I can assure you, I'm not scared."

Lacey cocked her head to the side, throwing Jeremiah a knowing look. "You're a terrible liar; you're still shaking."

"Right, well, I…" Jeremiah stammered, trying to get his words out in a way that wouldn't offend Lacey.

"Hey, it's fine. To be honest, it's pretty daring of you to come back here. I am clinically insane after all." She gestured to the room with her arms as if to prove her instability.

"Your reaction is typical of anyone suffering with grief. It has nothing to do with your past." Jeremiah spoke calmly. "Your sister was killed mere days ago. You're allowed to be angry." Jeremiah was trying his best to be comforting, and Lacey appreciated that.

"When do you think it'll stop?" Lacey asked, almost desperately. "It hurts so fucking bad. I've never felt like this before, probably because I never felt like someone genuinely cared about me before. She did so much for me in such a short space of time – far more than the Monroes ever did – and I never got to make it up to her."

Jeremiah watched Lacey closely as she poured her heart out to him. For the first time he didn't see Lacey Monroe, the infamous Arkham escapee with at least a dozen victims to her name, he saw the girl that Hannah had done everything in her power to bring home. The girl who was clearly a victim herself.

So Jeremiah listened as Lacey told him about her life with the Monroes and recalled fond memories with Hannah. It was nice to hear stories of his dear friend, especially because they hadn't seen much of one another in recent years. It was also nice to see Lacey more at ease.

"Every time I think about the past I feel angry." Lacey exhaled deeply. "It makes me so mad to think about both everything I've done and everything that I had no control over. It sucks."

"You have every right to be angry." Jeremiah told her rationally. "Everything that has happened can be traced right back to the Monroes."

"I'm angry at the whole fucking city, Jeremiah." Lacey told him. "From the moment I was born, everything that's happened to me and Hannah and our mom has been fucking unfair, and nobody did anything to help. Gotham did nothing to help." Her tone grew darker. "I'd fucking love to see it burn to the ground to be honest." She paused. "With us safe down here of course. And my mom, of course."

Jeremiah cleared his throat. "You know, once Jerome's locked away, perhaps I can help you clear your mother's name. For you and for Hannah."

"You see yourself living in the real world again? I'm sure a lot has changed since you last went up to the surface." She smirked slightly. "I mean, it's a shit show. Crime rates are sky-high – ironic of me to point that out, I know – and most of the GCPD are bumbling idiots. The music's awful and don't even get me started on the fashion! You should see some of the outfits these new 'villains' rock up wearing – although they are an improvement on the ridiculous clothes you see those high society ladies wearing." Lacey burst out laughing and Jeremiah did too, possibly for the first time in a long time.

"I like your laugh." The suddenness of Jeremiah's comment caught Lacey off guard. Even Jeremiah himself was surprised at what he'd just blurted out.

Lacey was suspicious of the compliment. "What?"

"I-It's good to see you in better spirits." Jeremiah smiled quickly, but then changed the subject when he felt Lacey's puzzled gaze burning him up. "Here, I'll pour the two of us some tea."

"Thanks."

Lacey couldn't deny that she felt a strange sensation around Jeremiah, like she couldn't figure him out. He was calm, polite and a gentleman – all things that Jerome was not. He was also a huge ball of anxiety around her and Lacey couldn't quite tell if it was just his personality or if he was genuinely intimidated by her. Of course, Lacey wouldn't have blamed him for being cautious around her but she wanted him to trust her since they were about to embark on a dangerous task together. She needed to find a way to make Jeremiah less scared of her.

But Jeremiah wasn't scared of Lacey, not anymore.

He was just scared of potentially falling for her.