The Allure of a Pair of Handcuffs (and other things that guarantee Jerome's cooperation)

"Y'know, your brother is kind of an asshole." Bruce mumbled to Jeremiah as he bit at his restraints. Luckily, it seemed as though Jerome was in a rush when he tied them, as the knots of cloth began to come undone rather easily.

Jeremiah looked at him in bewilderment. "You're just now coming to that conclusion. Jeez, you took a long time to deliberate on that one. It's not like he's got any redeeming qualities to change your mind."

"I mean...he's charismatic. And occasionally, his jokes hit home."

"Sure. And he murders people. That's sort of a trump card, don't you think?" Jeremiah's voice was no longer trembling with fear. It was shaking with poorly veiled anger.

Bruce realized he needed to backtrack quickly. "Yes, that uh...that's definitely a big 'no-no' factor deciding on my list of decent human beings."

Jeremiah looked relieved. "It's good to know you're making a list," he laughed. "C'mon, I'm sure the GCPD are hunting him with bloodhounds by now. We'd better go see if they need our help." Bruce nodded and turned to jump off of the stage, not bothering with the stairs. His foot slipped, and he went careening off the side, only to be caught by a cold hand that pulled him up and steadied him. Jeremiah was looking into his eyes curiously. "Are you alright?" Bruce nodded once more, this time simply short of breath.

"Thank you," Bruce finally got out, breathing heavily.

"Between my brother and I, it's almost as if you can't stand on your own." Jeremiah laughed his light, soft, chirping laugh again, and clung even more tightly to Bruce's hand. "Let's go, fainting Frank. We have a police captain to find."

...

After about twenty minutes of wandering the city, the pair heard shouts coming from the rooftop above them, as well as the occasional maniacal laugh. They exchanged a look.

"That must be Jim and Jerome," Bruce speculated, already gripping the metal rungs of the ladder that lead to the roof of the twelve-story building.

"Wait! What if Jerome tries to kill Jim? I don't want you getting in the middle of that, it's too dangerous." Jeremiah's hand was once again over his, this time stopping him from climbing the ladder. He looked at Bruce with his trademark fear in his eyes, but this time it was clear he was scared Bruce's sake, not his own.

For some reason, Jeremiah's touch didn't send the same sparks of heat and electricity that Jerome's did. Instead it was cool and calming, and it seemed to help Bruce think more clearly, instead of turn him into a blushing, blubbering mess. "I spoke with Jerome a few times before he came to look for you. Killing Jim, although always a desirable outcome for him, isn't his goal for tonight. He wants Jim to kill him. A-And I can't stand by and watch that happen." Jeremiah was staring at him in disbelief, withdrawing his hand.

"I don't understand. Wouldn't James Gordon killing him be the best outcome? He's a menace to society and he's murdered more people than I'd wish to count. Why are you all of a sudden so goddamn concerned about his well-being? It's not like he's ever done you any favors. All he does is hurt and threaten you. And yet somehow you're jumping to his rescue now?" Jeremiah was panting slightly, his infuriated words tumbling out.

Bruce took the opportunity to grab the next rung. "I just don't want to see Jim diminished to his level, which is exactly what your brother wants. So no, I'm not here to defend him, I'm here to save Jim from himself." Did Bruce truly mean that? He honestly wasn't sure what was pulling him towards the rooftop. All he knew was that the actions he made here and now would determine his future in full. So, he kept climbing, leaving an aggravated and gaping Jeremiah at the bottom of the ladder.

As soon as he reached the last rung, Bruce heard Jim shout at Jerome to take his hand. Lifting himself onto the roof, Bruce was greeted by a shocking sight. There was the police captain, reaching off of the edge of the building, looking more uncertain of himself than Bruce had ever seen. He again heard Jim exclaim, "Jerome, you don't have to do this. Just grab my hand. I don't want you to get hurt, or worse."

And stepping over to where the detective stood was a scene that made Bruce's heart drop. Jerome was dangling from a metal rod jutting out a few feet below the rooftop, laughing. The sound sent chills down his spine. He couldn't stop himself. Running to the last few feet to the edge, he cried out "Jerome! What the hell are you doing?"

The psychopath looked up at him, the laughter dying in his eyes. "Bruce? You aren't supposed to be here. You're supposed to be down on the ground...safe with my wretched mistake of a sibling. You're not supposed to see this part of the plan." The mania in his words slowed, and for the first time since Bruce had known him, Jerome truly looked worried. Chancing a glance at Jim, all he saw was confusion in the older man's eyes. Gently nudging the police captain aside, Bruce reached for the red-haired teenager below him.

"C'mon, Jerome. Stop hanging around."

And he laughed at Bruce's joke. A different laugh. Warmer, somehow more joyful. Jerome reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. That same electricity sparked in Bruce's skin again as he pulled Jerome to safety. A startled look from the other man told him that he felt it too. Either that, or he just wasn't used to someone saving his ass. The second Jerome's feet touched the concrete, Bruce withdrew his hand, embarrassed by what Jim might presume was happening between them. As he released his hand, Jerome trailed his fingertips along the inside of his palm, instantly dissolving Bruce into sputters.

"I um, so uh, w-what now?" Bruce asked stupidly, his mind not at all in the same place as it was just moments prior to that simple touch.

Jim reached for Jerome's wrists, unlatching a pair of gleaming metal handcuffs. "Well, Jerome Valeska, you're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an at-"

Jerome interrupted him saying, "Jimbo, I've done this a few times. I memorized my Miranda rights in third grade. Thanks though, captain. I really appreciate it. Plus, I've never been one to shy away from a pair of handcuffs, so no need to worry about me running away on ya." He winked at Bruce who just shook his head slightly, blushing and avoiding Jerome's blue-green eyes. He wasn't even sure what made him so susceptible to his charms, and yet Jerome never failed to embarrass him.

"Fantastic. I'm sure the court system will be thrilled to have you back in its circuit. Let's go." Jim started pushing Jerome back towards the ladder, Bruce following close behind.

As they reached the end of their descent down the metal rungs, Bruce heard Jeremiah quietly say to Jerome, "So that little goody-two-shoes saved your pathetic ass, huh? I hope you're fucking grateful. Just remember that I'm here to lend a shoulder to him when they put you on death row. I can't wait for your trial. Maybe they'll even let me testify. Wouldn't that be fun, brother?"

"Alright Jeremiah, that's enough." started Jim, cutting off what was certain to be a stinging retort from Jerome.

Jeremiah looked down pleasantly. "Just doing my civic duty, detective." He folded his hands and watched as the procession of three passed him, eventually leaving his post against the wall to follow behind them.

Police cruisers lined the street connecting to the alleyway that they emerged from. Many of Jerome's followers had already been apprehended, and were watching the arrest of their leader with wide eyes and jeering comments. Some of those eyes landed on Bruce, and he knew the faces those maniacs made at him would haunt him for a long time. Jeremiah paused in front of the backseat window of one of the cruisers, briefly conversing through the glass with the woman behind it. Seeming to feel Bruce's eyes on him, he straightened up and stared at the sixteen year old, daring him to ask what he'd been saying. Bruce only held his gaze for a moment, before turning his attention to Jim's car, where Jerome was now getting in to the backseat.

After making sure the teen was settled and not trying to tear holes in the upholstery, Jim looked at Bruce. "It's probably about time you head home. I'm sure Alfred's beside himself with worry at this point. Spare him the heart attack, please?"

He nodded his agreement, and said "Of course. Just one moment please, detective."

"Sure Bruce, I've got to finish giving a report to the other officers anyways. Just don't let this one pull anything tricky. He's a pain to track down." And with that, James Gordon stepped away from the car to go consult with his colleagues.

Rapping his knuckles against the window pulled Jerome's attention away from cutting smiley-faces into the seat with his nails. Even though he knew the boy couldn't hear him, Bruce whispered, "I'll be at your trial. I promise." And based on the nod he received, he thought Jerome must have read his lips. As Bruce turned away from the glass, movement from within caught his attention. Jerome was waving. The brunette looked at him questioningly, and Jerome jokingly blew him a kiss. At least, he thought it was a joke. With Jerome, he was never quite sure. Nonetheless, Bruce smiled and rolled his eyes a bit, finally pulling himself away from the cruiser and towards the direction of a nearby taxi. The only thing that dampened the spring in his step was the dirty look Jeremiah threw his way as he strode down the avenue.