2- Don't let him in, you'll have to kick him out again.
Three hard pounds on her door makes her look up from her book. She stands from her nest in the large chair and makes her way to the door, leaving her crochet blanket on the cushion. Another three knocks, more urgent. She knows that knock.
"Johnathan?" she asks softly once she reaches the door and she hears a grunt. Immediately her heart speeds up, something is wrong, he always announces himself. She opens the door and he stands there, holding his bleeding arm, mask shoved under his bleeding arm, gloves still on.
"Fucking hell come on." she pulls him into her home, locking the door behind them without a second thought.
"Shirt off, sit." she runs to the bathroom to grab her first aid kit, glimpsing the grey sweats and black tank top she has on in her floor length door mirror. She almost stops herself to fix her hair. She doesn't.
She pauses in the doorway; he's facing her in the chair, his eyes a dark blue. "Scarecrow." she says softly. Her heart and mind run in tandem wanting to fix everything, but she forces the thoughts back. 'No you dumb bitch'.
"Ma Belle." his accent is heavy and makes her head swim, makes her wonder why she stopped talking to them if nothing else. Scarecrow and Jonathan had been her voice of reason, her confidants, Scarecrow especially. She could bitch to him and he would always keep quiet, even from Jonathan if she asked.
"Is Johnathan hurt that badly that you're who I see first?" she asks, a spike of panic setting in her heart.
"Easy mon cher, we will be fine." his accent falls off his tongue and is like velvet to her ears. She breathes a sigh of relief and makes her way to the table.
"Let me see." she says softly, beating down the longing in her bones to just curl into his lap as she crosses one leg over the other.
He puts his arm on the table and she grimaces as she begins cleaning it. He had discarded his coat and gloves on the free chair across from her. 'J's chair.'
"Batarang?" she asks as she cleans the hole in his arm, trying to distract herself. He nods as he puts the mask that was in his other hand onto the table. She can feel his eyes watching her and she internally groans.
"There you go." she says after she's done stitching him up and the wound is wrapped. "You know I hate it when you analyze me." She says quietly.
"Thank you No-" she cuts him off, her name in his mouth isn't something she can handle. She can't handle the way his tongue rolls her name, that southern twang one of her greatest weaknesses.
"Nobody. are you nobody too?" she gives a small smile, eyes misting, and it takes everything in her to not make coffee and sit on the couch with him to talk the night away, watch Dateline, or read quietly. It hits her how much she missed him. How lonely her home is without the chaos of them.
"You're not a nobody." his accent is replaced by Johnathan's smooth voice, her heart skips a beat. 'This isn't fair.'
"I am as far as everyone is concerned." she swipes a piece of hair behind her ear, not meeting his eyes, finding the microwave on her counter suddenly intriguing.
"I like it short." he comments and she can see the cogs turning in his head, trying to break down her reactions, new style, mannerisms, everything to see a change, the change she claims she made.
"I hate it when you do that." she mutters again, knowing it wasn't Jonathan she had said it to before and he smirks.
"I know you do, you know I can't help it. You look good." she can hear the accusation hanging in the air, can see him tense. She can see the storm rolling into his eyes, just waiting for a reason to unleash a torrent onto her.
"I've stopped talking to them too Johnny." she sees his shoulders drop just a bit and she sighs, running her fingers through her hair in frustration wishing for once since accepting her own decision and agreement that shit never hit the fan, that it didn't have to be this way.
"It's to much for me to deal with. J called me 17 times! I answered the 18th call, he's been texting non-stop. I asked for time, I told him Harley had to go. I doubt it will happen." she lets her shoulders drop and she sighs in exhaustion, in defeat.
"Come back to me, to us." the merge of the two personalities always takes her by surprise, Jonathan's smooth voice mixing with Scarecrow's southern almost growl.
"I can't. It wouldn't be fair, to them or me. Bye boys." she leans up and kisses both cheeks and retreats to her bedroom, leaving Johnny to let himself out. She slowly walks to her bed and curls up hugging her pillow tight, tears streaming down her face and she screams silently in agony, wishing with every fiber of her being she could keep him.