Authors: Jag, Shawn(GF)
Rating: This is a hard R. There is language, there is an extreme amount of violence. There is the hint of some sexual violence and there is a lot of psychological drama. This is not for the weak of constitution nor necessarily those who have just eaten lunch. Enjoy.
He rubbed his eyes and sighed dramatically. Leaning back he stretched his back, wincing at the loud pops it made as he contorted his lean frame. He drew his jacket tighter around his body and moved through the alley, eyes going rapidly from side to side. He'd made this trip at least six dozen times but it never ceased to scare the shit out of him.
Yeah, Dudley Hayward definitely figured that he needed to get himself a car. And soon. This whole walking home from work through the nasty back alleys of New Gotham was greatly over-rated. And actually rather stupid.
He fingered his keys in his pocket. One of them was a little sharper than the others. His girlfriend had insisted upon it. She figured that he could jab someone in the eye with it if they tried to mug him. He rather guessed that he'd probably just panic and freak out.
And still get mugged in the process.
Keychain and all.
He walked through the alley behind the Pasty Shack on third street, huddling himself close and moving very quickly. It was very late at night and quite cold. The rain had stopped for a bit but the sky promised that it would be back. He considered getting another job that would get him home at decent hours but that was a pipedream really. Not at all realistic.
He put his foot down and felt it crunch against something. He looked down and saw an empty bottle of what had once been Coke. It had been a long time since he'd seen it in the glass form. He picked up the bottle and turned it over in hands, momentarily considering bring it home as some kind of trophy.
Then he laughed. "Yeah, she'll love that."
No, actually she'd hate it. She strongly disliked his packrat tendencies and did everything she could actively do to discourage them. Yeah, best not to walk into that fight.
He looked at the bottle once more and then tossed it towards a dumpster that was a few feet away. It spun in the air and then crashed down, thumping heavily against something. Dudley cocked his head to the side, confused. That sound hadn't been right. It had been...well...off.
A voice in his head screamed at him to walk away. It was freaking New Gotham and nothing was exactly right in the city. Things were bizarre and everyone knew it and accepted it. Most kept walking.
But that sound had been so weird...
He crossed over to the dumpster and leaned up, peering in. He moved his hand over a black plastic bag and pushed it to the side so that he could see what the bottle had hit.
"Oh shit," he cursed as he looked into the dumpster. His eyes widened and his pulse quickened. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry. He bent forward again to confirm what he'd seen.
Yeah, he'd actually seen a body.
A real fucking body.
He didn't know whether to shriek or jump. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. He fingered the cell in his hip pocket, knowing that he should call it in.
And he would. In a moment. Right now he wanted to look at the body uninterrupted. He'd never seen one before. Not even at a funeral. They had always been closed-casket.
He slid over the side of the dumpster and jumped down into it. He was mildly aware of the stench of it but the smell of blood was stronger. He pushed several bags away and bent down over the body, reaching a hand down to check for a pulse he didn't expect to find.
When his hand slid against the dark skin of the man's throat, he gasped. "Fuck me, you're alive," he whispered.
His fascination with the dead forgotten, he reached under the man's body and lifted him up against him, using his weight to support him. He jerked up hard, grunting at the effort. With all the strength in him, he pulled the two of them out of the dumpster and onto the dirty hard floor of the alley.
A light from a nearby lamp illuminated the victim just a bit but enough to show the massive wound on the mans' chest. Dudley yanked his jacket off and pressed it against the gory hole, marveling that the man wasn't dead. He had to have lost a ton of blood.
He yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. A few seconds passed and then someone came on the line. "Hi, yes, uh, I found a body. Where? The alley behind the Pasty Shack on 3rd Street...."
He slipped his hand into the man's jacket, searching for ID. He felt the heavy form of a wallet on the left side and yanked at it. Opening it his eyes went even wider. "Uh, ma'am?" he stammered. "The guy I found, I think he's a cop. Yeah, a cop. Uh, his ID says Detective Jesse Reese. Yes ma'am. Yes...of course. My name? Dudley. Dudley Hayward." There was a beat and then he said softly. "No, I'm not going anywhere."
*****
She crossed her legs and leaned casually against the plush red sofa in her office. She flicked her eyes up to take in the elegant little domain that she had scrapped together at the last moment. It wasn't fantastic but it would certainly do. She slipped her long manicured nails between the pages of the New Gotham Reporter. She smiled when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in."
Torch opened the door and stepped in. He frowned down at the drying blood on his white shirt. "I'm back."
"All done then?"
He nodded. "Dumped him in a trash behind the Pasty Shack. Someone should find him when they take the trash out in the morning." He put a bag down on the table. "Picked up a few pasties too."
"Excellent," Harley grinned, standing up. She walked over to Torch and ran her fingers into his hair. He smiled at her, more humoring her than anything else. She glanced into the bag and sniffed the air. "Smells wonderful but they'll have to wait for later."
"Right," he agreed. Then he frowned. "What about the girl? What are we going to do with her?"
"What am I going to do with here," she corrected. "She's my play-toy."
"Uh huh," he admitted. "What are you going to do with her then?"
She shrugged nonchalantly. She crossed away from Torch and moved over to her desk. She picked up a paperweight and turned it over in her palm. "Tomorrow we'll move her to the special bedroom I had built for her. We need to keep working on building the...gang...you know I don't really like that word..."
"I'm sorry," Torch said with a chuckle. "Would you prefer another word?"
"I'm sure I would," Harley agreed. "Find me one."
"Will do," he drawled. "Got a question for you, I mean, why don't you just hypnotize Kyle and send her to get that other bitch you want. I mean, wouldn't that just be easier?"
Harley nodded. "Easier, yes." She dropped her head down and looked at him with an exasperated expression. "But fitfully uncreative. Boring. Unworthy of me. Besides, we've done it before and the great Barbara Gordon would see it coming from a mile away. No honey, I want to play with them both. Play and enjoy my revenge."
"Hey, it's your show," Torch said easily. He glanced around the room.
"Yes it is and don't forget that," she snapped. Then she smiled. "Anyways, you did good."
"Thanks," he muttered. "Hey, what about that weird thing of yours...the one that bit Kyle...what the hell is that all about?"
Harley sighed. "Oh he's just a failed experiment by a pathetic lab. They botched everything. Including my precious baby." She sighed dramatically, her shoulders slumping as she thought about the genetically altered child that they had created for him. The child that Helena Kyle had stolen and made her own.
"Do I want to know?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Alushe was their last experiment for me." She smiled. "Before I fired them all. Now that was fun."
"And what exactly is his point?"
"He's a human dirty needle. When he feeds, he replaces the blood he takes with what he already has which is diseased and damaged. He infects his victim. I've seen some wonderfully horrible results. I can't wait to see what his blood does to her."
"I bet," Torch mused as he watched Harley circle back over to him. She slid her arm into hers.
"Enough of that though," she said with a laugh. "It's all coming along so well but there is so much to be done and so little time."
*****
"Miss Barbara?" he said from the doorway, his voice soft. He watched her carefully, his features drawn tight with worry. Her sleep was so troubled these days that it almost made him sick to pull her away from what appeared to be a dreamless few hours of rest.
She turned in her bed, burrowing her face into her pillows. Her fingers crept into the folds of her blankets but she remained silent. He crossed over to her and dropped a hand to her shoulder, giving her a very slight shake.
"Alfred?" she mumbled, sitting up and blinking. She slid her palms down to the mattress, pressing them flat to give her support and balance. She turned to her digital clock and blinked as she gazed at the bright red numbers. "Four?"
"I'm afraid so," he said with a nod. "Something has just come up that I think you should see."
"Of course," she said with a dry humorless laugh. She cocked her head to side. "Any chance that all of last night was just a really bad dream and Helena is sound asleep upstairs?"
"Were it so," Alfred replied, shaking his head. He helped her out of the bed and into the chair. He was the only person she would ever allow to help her in that manner which wasn't lost on him. It actually rather touched him.
They ascended from her personal apartment to the command center in silence, her mind whirling with the possibilities. When she moved in front of her computers, her heart viciously slammed up against her ribcage.
"Oh no," she gasped.
Her hand trembling she bent forward and pressed a key. The screen flashed and the audio of the 911 call that had been received played over the speakers.
"The guy I found, I think he's a cop."
"A cop sir?"
"Yeah, a cop."
"Sir, what does his ID say? Whose name is on it?"
"Uh, his ID says Detective Jesse Reese."
Barbara turned her chair and looked up at Alfred. "Tell me this isn't happening."
"I took the liberty of calling the hospital and inquiring about my grandson. I was told that he was in surgery," Alfred said softly.
"Grandson?" Barbara cracked. "You a Hawke?"
"Oh heavens no," he drolled. "Didn't you know I was raised in the hood?"
"You know Helena would kill you if she ever heard you say that,"
Barbara laughed. Then she paused and frowned. "Or drop dead in shock."
"Then I would imagine I'll have to remember that one," he smiled, his eyes kind and sparkling. He moved next to her. "Master Reese is still alive..."
"And my suspicions are confirmed, Harley had him the entire time." She shook her head. "God, she had him and we did nothing about it." She looked back at the screen. When she spoke again her voice cracked hard. "He was stabbed, Alfred, just like Wade."
"Miss Barbara..."
"Now look, I'm not some psycho crazed lunatic like Harley but if my whole gig is revenge and I want to really hurt Helena, and you know, that woman probably knows her mind better than most..."
"Miss Barbara..."
"And I know she's guilty over Wade, you know what I'd do? I'd kill Reese right in front of her, in the exact same way..."
He squeezed her shoulder. "You don't know that right now and you mustn't concentrate on that." He pointed at the screen. "What does that mean?"
She took her glasses off and looked at the screen. "It's the inventory of what was found on him. The lab collected what appeared to be a scrap from a cotton shirt with blood on it. It was located in his breast pocket. Tests are planned for the morning." She turned back to Alfred. "I need that sample or at least part of the DNA on it."
"Should I wake Miss Dinah?"
Barbara snorted. "Yeah that'd be stealthy. She can limp away from the security guards."
"Then perhaps..."
"Don't even say it. I'm not sending you skulking underground."
He shrugged. "Always wanted to know what it would be like to steal into a lab under cover of night. Perhaps I could get my own leather overcoat."
"That's two," Barbara laughed. "One more and we might have to start keeping a collection for her."
"Indeed. All right then, who did you have in mind. Surely not you."
"Yeah, you remember the part about Dinah not being stealthy because of her crutches?" He nodded. "Well my chair works even better."
"Ah self-depreciation."
"Try truth," she laughed. He turned back towards the switchboard and dialed a number. A few rings sounded and then a very sleepy voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Gibson?"
"Oracle?"
"Yes, great that we're acquainted. I need your help."
There was a sound like blankets being moved and then footsteps. "What's up?"
"I need you to do me a favor."
"Anything for you. Do I need to pick up the beautiful Huntress from a party and take care of her overnight?"
Barbara paused. She looked back at Alfred with a look of bemusement. He just shrugged. "Uh no."
"Oh," he replied between yawns. "Then what then?"
"I need evidence from the forensics lab downtown," she said, her tone a bit cautious. Gibson was one of Helena's oldest friends and he had helped them out on many an occasion but still, this was definitely new. She had never asked him to run a solo mission.
"Why don't you just send Helena? She loves breaking and entering."
Barbara laughed, this time fully, in spite of the situation. She shook her head and then said softly. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"I...I just can't..."
She heard movement and then the phone being adjusted. "What do you mean you can't?" Gibson demanded. "Is she all right?"
Barbara closed her eyes for a beat and blew out air. "No, no Gibson she's not."
"What happened? Who hurt her?"
"Look, Harley has her and we don't have a lot of time so right now I need you not to ask me a thousand really unimportant questions and I need you to work with me for once. You're Helena's best friend and right now I need you to act like it."
There was a beat and then very softly he said, "Okay."
She winced a bit, realizing that she had stung him. It was his natural state to be inquisitive and curious and the questions he had asked were no different than those that anyone else logically would have.
"Gibson..."
"Tell me what you need," he said abruptly.
She shook her head and silently cursed at herself. She would have to deal with that later. Wonderful, one more things to have regrets about.
"You remember Helena's boyfriend?"
"Detective Reese?"
"Yes. Harley got him and she hurt him."
"Oh God..."
"In his jacket there was a scrap of cloth...I'm not sure what, but it had blood on it. I need that sample. I can't think of any other reason for it to be in his pocket unless...."
"Unless the infamously sinister Harley Quinn left it for you to find," Gibson finished for her.
"Right. Yes."
"The forensics lab downtown?"
"Yes. It's listed as being in Box 32-H."
"I'm on it," he said simply.
"Are you sure you can do this?" she asked, her voice soft. She was starting to have second thoughts about sending the typically bumbling bartender into such a covert situation.
"I'll get the evidence. I assume you want me to bring it to the Clocktower?"
"Yes. Gibson..."
"I'll be there shortly," he said. There was a pause and then he hung up the phone.
"Ouch," she said as she turned to Alfred.
"He'll understand," Alfred said with a smile. "Now I'm going to get you some tea while we wait for Master Gibson to return. I rather suspect that just as it was a long evening, it's going to such a morning."
She sighed. "You're probably right."
*****
A drop of water crashed to the floor, echoing through her eardrums. It sounded like thunder in a tunnel. She swallowed hard, her throat dry and parched. She turned her head towards the wall.
She had tried for several hours to fall asleep, knowing instinctively that she would need all the rest she could get. She had no real understanding of the situation she was in aside from the fact that it was definitely very dire.
Her attempts at sleep however had all been in vain.
Something was definitely wrong.
She heard a strong scratching sound on the wall and turned her head towards it. She blinked, annoyed by the glasses that were cutting off her vision. She heard the noise again and frowned, wondering what it was.
She moved her foot to straighten it and the metal cuff jingled, sounding like a damn orchestra in her ears. She winced at the pain of it, wondering why her hearing had suddenly become so super-sensitive.
She shifted her body and gasped as her arm slapped against the cold metal of the bed. She shuddered violently, a wave of pain kicking up through her. Her skin felt electric.
Yeah, something was really wrong.
And it had something to do with that weird thing that had bitten her.
She cocked her head to the side, feeling the tightness of her neck. The wound on her throat was still very raw and wet. She couldn't tell if it was oozing blood but it sure felt like it. That creature, Harley had called him Alushe, had taken a huge bite out of her flesh.
He had been like a slobbering, smelly, drunk vampire.
Only not quite.
His teeth hadn't been terribly pointy which had just made the oral invasion all the more violent and gruesome. He had ripped at her flesh, tearing it away so that he could lap at the blood.
And he had given something back.
She had smelled when he had been over it. It has been like death and decay and maybe even something worse. He had done something to her. Something she couldn't even begin to comprehend.
Something that was just starting.
She blinked and closed her eyes tight, searching for that elusive bit of rest that she sensed would be so vital to her mental health in the long run. Harley was trying to break her down which meant she had to be stronger than even,
Exhaustion didn't tend to help in that regards.
Nor did the soaring emotions rushing through her.
She shook her head, desperate not to think about it.
"Doesn't work like that," she muttered to herself, her voice cracking. Idly she wondered if there was a camera in the room. A stray mischievous thought ripped through her mind but her anger quickly overwhelmed her.
Harley had murdered Reese.
Just like she had Wade.
Well then it was getting to be a good thing that Dinah had all of the love life of a nun right out of the convent. Helena frowned. That was a thought she didn't quite want to explore. And yet knew she was at length at some point or another.
She squeezed her hands tight, turning them into fists. The emotion whipped up through her, almost blinding her with rage. Three nights ago she had been lying in Reese's arms, enjoying his touch.
And now because of her feelings for him, he was dead.
Wade had died because of her betrayal and now Reese because of her love.
And the worst part of it was, she had known better. She had warned herself about getting involved, about falling for him. She had known that it would be dangerous. And then he had managed to convince her to give it a try; he had promised her that it would take a lot to get him out of her life.
Yeah, just a knife through the ribs.
And one more person she loved lost.
Which left only Barbara and Dinah now.
And that meant that no matter what Harley did to her, she had to protect them.
No matter what.
She swallowed hard, appalled that she could hear the sound so clearly. She fidgeted, her skin feeling like it was crawling and in fact moving. It wasn't of course but that hardly mattered.
Everything felt so wrong.
So sick and diseased.
She wondered if she was dying.
She shook her head.
She knew better.
Harley had no intention of killing her anytime soon.
She pressed her eyelids closed and whispered softly into the air, "Hey Oracle, any chance you're there?" She paused. "No, didn't think so. That's okay." She laughed. "I guess now we really have something in common, huh?"
She stopped, amazed by her own words. It wasn't like her to have what felt like a nervous breakdown. She bit down hard on her lip to stop her words, her mind racing in circles.
That thing had done something to her.
Harley was trying to break her.
She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead into the darkness of the glasses. She heard the drops of water crashing heavily against the floor and the thing on wall roughly hacking away at the rocky surface. Madness really.
Or all in a days work.
In any case, Harley was going to have to wait awhile for her ultimate revenge, whatever the hell that may be.
Because neither Helena Kyle nor the Huntress had any intention of breaking anytime soon.
For better or worse.
"Yeah Oracle," she whispered low and under her breath. "I'm still here."
*****
Rating: This is a hard R. There is language, there is an extreme amount of violence. There is the hint of some sexual violence and there is a lot of psychological drama. This is not for the weak of constitution nor necessarily those who have just eaten lunch. Enjoy.
He rubbed his eyes and sighed dramatically. Leaning back he stretched his back, wincing at the loud pops it made as he contorted his lean frame. He drew his jacket tighter around his body and moved through the alley, eyes going rapidly from side to side. He'd made this trip at least six dozen times but it never ceased to scare the shit out of him.
Yeah, Dudley Hayward definitely figured that he needed to get himself a car. And soon. This whole walking home from work through the nasty back alleys of New Gotham was greatly over-rated. And actually rather stupid.
He fingered his keys in his pocket. One of them was a little sharper than the others. His girlfriend had insisted upon it. She figured that he could jab someone in the eye with it if they tried to mug him. He rather guessed that he'd probably just panic and freak out.
And still get mugged in the process.
Keychain and all.
He walked through the alley behind the Pasty Shack on third street, huddling himself close and moving very quickly. It was very late at night and quite cold. The rain had stopped for a bit but the sky promised that it would be back. He considered getting another job that would get him home at decent hours but that was a pipedream really. Not at all realistic.
He put his foot down and felt it crunch against something. He looked down and saw an empty bottle of what had once been Coke. It had been a long time since he'd seen it in the glass form. He picked up the bottle and turned it over in hands, momentarily considering bring it home as some kind of trophy.
Then he laughed. "Yeah, she'll love that."
No, actually she'd hate it. She strongly disliked his packrat tendencies and did everything she could actively do to discourage them. Yeah, best not to walk into that fight.
He looked at the bottle once more and then tossed it towards a dumpster that was a few feet away. It spun in the air and then crashed down, thumping heavily against something. Dudley cocked his head to the side, confused. That sound hadn't been right. It had been...well...off.
A voice in his head screamed at him to walk away. It was freaking New Gotham and nothing was exactly right in the city. Things were bizarre and everyone knew it and accepted it. Most kept walking.
But that sound had been so weird...
He crossed over to the dumpster and leaned up, peering in. He moved his hand over a black plastic bag and pushed it to the side so that he could see what the bottle had hit.
"Oh shit," he cursed as he looked into the dumpster. His eyes widened and his pulse quickened. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry. He bent forward again to confirm what he'd seen.
Yeah, he'd actually seen a body.
A real fucking body.
He didn't know whether to shriek or jump. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. He fingered the cell in his hip pocket, knowing that he should call it in.
And he would. In a moment. Right now he wanted to look at the body uninterrupted. He'd never seen one before. Not even at a funeral. They had always been closed-casket.
He slid over the side of the dumpster and jumped down into it. He was mildly aware of the stench of it but the smell of blood was stronger. He pushed several bags away and bent down over the body, reaching a hand down to check for a pulse he didn't expect to find.
When his hand slid against the dark skin of the man's throat, he gasped. "Fuck me, you're alive," he whispered.
His fascination with the dead forgotten, he reached under the man's body and lifted him up against him, using his weight to support him. He jerked up hard, grunting at the effort. With all the strength in him, he pulled the two of them out of the dumpster and onto the dirty hard floor of the alley.
A light from a nearby lamp illuminated the victim just a bit but enough to show the massive wound on the mans' chest. Dudley yanked his jacket off and pressed it against the gory hole, marveling that the man wasn't dead. He had to have lost a ton of blood.
He yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. A few seconds passed and then someone came on the line. "Hi, yes, uh, I found a body. Where? The alley behind the Pasty Shack on 3rd Street...."
He slipped his hand into the man's jacket, searching for ID. He felt the heavy form of a wallet on the left side and yanked at it. Opening it his eyes went even wider. "Uh, ma'am?" he stammered. "The guy I found, I think he's a cop. Yeah, a cop. Uh, his ID says Detective Jesse Reese. Yes ma'am. Yes...of course. My name? Dudley. Dudley Hayward." There was a beat and then he said softly. "No, I'm not going anywhere."
*****
She crossed her legs and leaned casually against the plush red sofa in her office. She flicked her eyes up to take in the elegant little domain that she had scrapped together at the last moment. It wasn't fantastic but it would certainly do. She slipped her long manicured nails between the pages of the New Gotham Reporter. She smiled when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in."
Torch opened the door and stepped in. He frowned down at the drying blood on his white shirt. "I'm back."
"All done then?"
He nodded. "Dumped him in a trash behind the Pasty Shack. Someone should find him when they take the trash out in the morning." He put a bag down on the table. "Picked up a few pasties too."
"Excellent," Harley grinned, standing up. She walked over to Torch and ran her fingers into his hair. He smiled at her, more humoring her than anything else. She glanced into the bag and sniffed the air. "Smells wonderful but they'll have to wait for later."
"Right," he agreed. Then he frowned. "What about the girl? What are we going to do with her?"
"What am I going to do with here," she corrected. "She's my play-toy."
"Uh huh," he admitted. "What are you going to do with her then?"
She shrugged nonchalantly. She crossed away from Torch and moved over to her desk. She picked up a paperweight and turned it over in her palm. "Tomorrow we'll move her to the special bedroom I had built for her. We need to keep working on building the...gang...you know I don't really like that word..."
"I'm sorry," Torch said with a chuckle. "Would you prefer another word?"
"I'm sure I would," Harley agreed. "Find me one."
"Will do," he drawled. "Got a question for you, I mean, why don't you just hypnotize Kyle and send her to get that other bitch you want. I mean, wouldn't that just be easier?"
Harley nodded. "Easier, yes." She dropped her head down and looked at him with an exasperated expression. "But fitfully uncreative. Boring. Unworthy of me. Besides, we've done it before and the great Barbara Gordon would see it coming from a mile away. No honey, I want to play with them both. Play and enjoy my revenge."
"Hey, it's your show," Torch said easily. He glanced around the room.
"Yes it is and don't forget that," she snapped. Then she smiled. "Anyways, you did good."
"Thanks," he muttered. "Hey, what about that weird thing of yours...the one that bit Kyle...what the hell is that all about?"
Harley sighed. "Oh he's just a failed experiment by a pathetic lab. They botched everything. Including my precious baby." She sighed dramatically, her shoulders slumping as she thought about the genetically altered child that they had created for him. The child that Helena Kyle had stolen and made her own.
"Do I want to know?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Alushe was their last experiment for me." She smiled. "Before I fired them all. Now that was fun."
"And what exactly is his point?"
"He's a human dirty needle. When he feeds, he replaces the blood he takes with what he already has which is diseased and damaged. He infects his victim. I've seen some wonderfully horrible results. I can't wait to see what his blood does to her."
"I bet," Torch mused as he watched Harley circle back over to him. She slid her arm into hers.
"Enough of that though," she said with a laugh. "It's all coming along so well but there is so much to be done and so little time."
*****
"Miss Barbara?" he said from the doorway, his voice soft. He watched her carefully, his features drawn tight with worry. Her sleep was so troubled these days that it almost made him sick to pull her away from what appeared to be a dreamless few hours of rest.
She turned in her bed, burrowing her face into her pillows. Her fingers crept into the folds of her blankets but she remained silent. He crossed over to her and dropped a hand to her shoulder, giving her a very slight shake.
"Alfred?" she mumbled, sitting up and blinking. She slid her palms down to the mattress, pressing them flat to give her support and balance. She turned to her digital clock and blinked as she gazed at the bright red numbers. "Four?"
"I'm afraid so," he said with a nod. "Something has just come up that I think you should see."
"Of course," she said with a dry humorless laugh. She cocked her head to side. "Any chance that all of last night was just a really bad dream and Helena is sound asleep upstairs?"
"Were it so," Alfred replied, shaking his head. He helped her out of the bed and into the chair. He was the only person she would ever allow to help her in that manner which wasn't lost on him. It actually rather touched him.
They ascended from her personal apartment to the command center in silence, her mind whirling with the possibilities. When she moved in front of her computers, her heart viciously slammed up against her ribcage.
"Oh no," she gasped.
Her hand trembling she bent forward and pressed a key. The screen flashed and the audio of the 911 call that had been received played over the speakers.
"The guy I found, I think he's a cop."
"A cop sir?"
"Yeah, a cop."
"Sir, what does his ID say? Whose name is on it?"
"Uh, his ID says Detective Jesse Reese."
Barbara turned her chair and looked up at Alfred. "Tell me this isn't happening."
"I took the liberty of calling the hospital and inquiring about my grandson. I was told that he was in surgery," Alfred said softly.
"Grandson?" Barbara cracked. "You a Hawke?"
"Oh heavens no," he drolled. "Didn't you know I was raised in the hood?"
"You know Helena would kill you if she ever heard you say that,"
Barbara laughed. Then she paused and frowned. "Or drop dead in shock."
"Then I would imagine I'll have to remember that one," he smiled, his eyes kind and sparkling. He moved next to her. "Master Reese is still alive..."
"And my suspicions are confirmed, Harley had him the entire time." She shook her head. "God, she had him and we did nothing about it." She looked back at the screen. When she spoke again her voice cracked hard. "He was stabbed, Alfred, just like Wade."
"Miss Barbara..."
"Now look, I'm not some psycho crazed lunatic like Harley but if my whole gig is revenge and I want to really hurt Helena, and you know, that woman probably knows her mind better than most..."
"Miss Barbara..."
"And I know she's guilty over Wade, you know what I'd do? I'd kill Reese right in front of her, in the exact same way..."
He squeezed her shoulder. "You don't know that right now and you mustn't concentrate on that." He pointed at the screen. "What does that mean?"
She took her glasses off and looked at the screen. "It's the inventory of what was found on him. The lab collected what appeared to be a scrap from a cotton shirt with blood on it. It was located in his breast pocket. Tests are planned for the morning." She turned back to Alfred. "I need that sample or at least part of the DNA on it."
"Should I wake Miss Dinah?"
Barbara snorted. "Yeah that'd be stealthy. She can limp away from the security guards."
"Then perhaps..."
"Don't even say it. I'm not sending you skulking underground."
He shrugged. "Always wanted to know what it would be like to steal into a lab under cover of night. Perhaps I could get my own leather overcoat."
"That's two," Barbara laughed. "One more and we might have to start keeping a collection for her."
"Indeed. All right then, who did you have in mind. Surely not you."
"Yeah, you remember the part about Dinah not being stealthy because of her crutches?" He nodded. "Well my chair works even better."
"Ah self-depreciation."
"Try truth," she laughed. He turned back towards the switchboard and dialed a number. A few rings sounded and then a very sleepy voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Gibson?"
"Oracle?"
"Yes, great that we're acquainted. I need your help."
There was a sound like blankets being moved and then footsteps. "What's up?"
"I need you to do me a favor."
"Anything for you. Do I need to pick up the beautiful Huntress from a party and take care of her overnight?"
Barbara paused. She looked back at Alfred with a look of bemusement. He just shrugged. "Uh no."
"Oh," he replied between yawns. "Then what then?"
"I need evidence from the forensics lab downtown," she said, her tone a bit cautious. Gibson was one of Helena's oldest friends and he had helped them out on many an occasion but still, this was definitely new. She had never asked him to run a solo mission.
"Why don't you just send Helena? She loves breaking and entering."
Barbara laughed, this time fully, in spite of the situation. She shook her head and then said softly. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"I...I just can't..."
She heard movement and then the phone being adjusted. "What do you mean you can't?" Gibson demanded. "Is she all right?"
Barbara closed her eyes for a beat and blew out air. "No, no Gibson she's not."
"What happened? Who hurt her?"
"Look, Harley has her and we don't have a lot of time so right now I need you not to ask me a thousand really unimportant questions and I need you to work with me for once. You're Helena's best friend and right now I need you to act like it."
There was a beat and then very softly he said, "Okay."
She winced a bit, realizing that she had stung him. It was his natural state to be inquisitive and curious and the questions he had asked were no different than those that anyone else logically would have.
"Gibson..."
"Tell me what you need," he said abruptly.
She shook her head and silently cursed at herself. She would have to deal with that later. Wonderful, one more things to have regrets about.
"You remember Helena's boyfriend?"
"Detective Reese?"
"Yes. Harley got him and she hurt him."
"Oh God..."
"In his jacket there was a scrap of cloth...I'm not sure what, but it had blood on it. I need that sample. I can't think of any other reason for it to be in his pocket unless...."
"Unless the infamously sinister Harley Quinn left it for you to find," Gibson finished for her.
"Right. Yes."
"The forensics lab downtown?"
"Yes. It's listed as being in Box 32-H."
"I'm on it," he said simply.
"Are you sure you can do this?" she asked, her voice soft. She was starting to have second thoughts about sending the typically bumbling bartender into such a covert situation.
"I'll get the evidence. I assume you want me to bring it to the Clocktower?"
"Yes. Gibson..."
"I'll be there shortly," he said. There was a pause and then he hung up the phone.
"Ouch," she said as she turned to Alfred.
"He'll understand," Alfred said with a smile. "Now I'm going to get you some tea while we wait for Master Gibson to return. I rather suspect that just as it was a long evening, it's going to such a morning."
She sighed. "You're probably right."
*****
A drop of water crashed to the floor, echoing through her eardrums. It sounded like thunder in a tunnel. She swallowed hard, her throat dry and parched. She turned her head towards the wall.
She had tried for several hours to fall asleep, knowing instinctively that she would need all the rest she could get. She had no real understanding of the situation she was in aside from the fact that it was definitely very dire.
Her attempts at sleep however had all been in vain.
Something was definitely wrong.
She heard a strong scratching sound on the wall and turned her head towards it. She blinked, annoyed by the glasses that were cutting off her vision. She heard the noise again and frowned, wondering what it was.
She moved her foot to straighten it and the metal cuff jingled, sounding like a damn orchestra in her ears. She winced at the pain of it, wondering why her hearing had suddenly become so super-sensitive.
She shifted her body and gasped as her arm slapped against the cold metal of the bed. She shuddered violently, a wave of pain kicking up through her. Her skin felt electric.
Yeah, something was really wrong.
And it had something to do with that weird thing that had bitten her.
She cocked her head to the side, feeling the tightness of her neck. The wound on her throat was still very raw and wet. She couldn't tell if it was oozing blood but it sure felt like it. That creature, Harley had called him Alushe, had taken a huge bite out of her flesh.
He had been like a slobbering, smelly, drunk vampire.
Only not quite.
His teeth hadn't been terribly pointy which had just made the oral invasion all the more violent and gruesome. He had ripped at her flesh, tearing it away so that he could lap at the blood.
And he had given something back.
She had smelled when he had been over it. It has been like death and decay and maybe even something worse. He had done something to her. Something she couldn't even begin to comprehend.
Something that was just starting.
She blinked and closed her eyes tight, searching for that elusive bit of rest that she sensed would be so vital to her mental health in the long run. Harley was trying to break her down which meant she had to be stronger than even,
Exhaustion didn't tend to help in that regards.
Nor did the soaring emotions rushing through her.
She shook her head, desperate not to think about it.
"Doesn't work like that," she muttered to herself, her voice cracking. Idly she wondered if there was a camera in the room. A stray mischievous thought ripped through her mind but her anger quickly overwhelmed her.
Harley had murdered Reese.
Just like she had Wade.
Well then it was getting to be a good thing that Dinah had all of the love life of a nun right out of the convent. Helena frowned. That was a thought she didn't quite want to explore. And yet knew she was at length at some point or another.
She squeezed her hands tight, turning them into fists. The emotion whipped up through her, almost blinding her with rage. Three nights ago she had been lying in Reese's arms, enjoying his touch.
And now because of her feelings for him, he was dead.
Wade had died because of her betrayal and now Reese because of her love.
And the worst part of it was, she had known better. She had warned herself about getting involved, about falling for him. She had known that it would be dangerous. And then he had managed to convince her to give it a try; he had promised her that it would take a lot to get him out of her life.
Yeah, just a knife through the ribs.
And one more person she loved lost.
Which left only Barbara and Dinah now.
And that meant that no matter what Harley did to her, she had to protect them.
No matter what.
She swallowed hard, appalled that she could hear the sound so clearly. She fidgeted, her skin feeling like it was crawling and in fact moving. It wasn't of course but that hardly mattered.
Everything felt so wrong.
So sick and diseased.
She wondered if she was dying.
She shook her head.
She knew better.
Harley had no intention of killing her anytime soon.
She pressed her eyelids closed and whispered softly into the air, "Hey Oracle, any chance you're there?" She paused. "No, didn't think so. That's okay." She laughed. "I guess now we really have something in common, huh?"
She stopped, amazed by her own words. It wasn't like her to have what felt like a nervous breakdown. She bit down hard on her lip to stop her words, her mind racing in circles.
That thing had done something to her.
Harley was trying to break her.
She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead into the darkness of the glasses. She heard the drops of water crashing heavily against the floor and the thing on wall roughly hacking away at the rocky surface. Madness really.
Or all in a days work.
In any case, Harley was going to have to wait awhile for her ultimate revenge, whatever the hell that may be.
Because neither Helena Kyle nor the Huntress had any intention of breaking anytime soon.
For better or worse.
"Yeah Oracle," she whispered low and under her breath. "I'm still here."
*****