Happy Holidays!

Chapter 8

Nothing else could convince me that I was finished. There would be no more testing, and there would certainly be no more afternoon surprises. Never again would I put myself in that sad situation, one where I would have to use a kitchen appliance in order to save my life. I cried freely over the Scarecrow, hoping I wouldn't wake him up. God, he would be so pissed.

I had to take a minute to sit down. The tears burning down my cheeks as I seethed through gritted teeth. I was too stupid, repeating my mistakes over and over again. Memories came back as I tried to smack some sense back into my head. It wouldn't work. All I could think about was my tendency to over indulge myself in curiosity and fantasy. I pay dearly every single time.

With a final snivel, I headed to my bedroom and searched through my drawers for some handcuffs. Yes, they were the kind of handcuffs used for 'fun'. Needless to say, I didn't even take them out of the package since Jo gave them to me as a gag birthday gift. Fluffy pink and silver pair of bastards they were, shining in the middle drawer like a fresh hooker. I freed them from the packaging and slipped the keys in my bra.

He was still laying there on the kitchen floor. Peaceful, but somehow he didn't seem harmless. I dragged him, realizing he must have weighed more than he looked. Maybe he had some hidden muscle packed away, I wondered. Obviously, he over powered you in your own kitchen.

I managed to get him on my bed after a minute, and immediately cuffed his wrists around a part of the cherry headboard. A smirk appeared on my face as I kindly covered him with the ever so feminine rose comforter; baby blue and golden leaves all over. The ivory pillows contrasted with the red mess streaming from his forehead, causing me to head back to the kitchen and grab a few towels. Maybe you shouldn't let him sleep, Mira. He could have a concussion.

"Concussion my ass." I said. "He can sleep and never wake back up."

I sat beside him and pressed on the wound, soaking up most of the blood. He wasn't bleeding any worse than normal. Head wounds tend to have a lot of blood, and the same can be said with fingers. No, I wasn't too concerned.

After getting his head taken care of, I took off his shoes and set them in my closet. Then, I grabbed another clean rag and soaked it in some cold water for his forehead. I was being too kind to him, but it didn't change how I felt. Once it turned dark, I'd just drug him up and drag him back out to Arkham.

There was a bang, followed by the ringing of the door bell. I panicked, wondering who the fuck was there instead of just going out to see. Obviously it wasn't Jo; she usually walked in on me sitting on the toilet.

"Be good." I whispered, pulling the blanket up to his nose. I grabbed an old green jacket from the closet and zipped it to my neck before darting to the front door. The ringing continued.

I didn't need to look through the peep hole. Blue and red lights shimmered as I passed my window, briefly catching a glimpse of the two officers in uniform. They waited patiently in the frigid air as my heart jumped to my throat. If they want Crane, just give him to them Mira. Make up a story, you can do that.

Flurries danced through my house as soon as I opened the door. It seemed that the storm was getting bad, so I kindly invited them in. "Sorry, I didn't know the weather was getting this bad. Do you want something warm to drink?" I asked coolly, trying to remain calm.

"Coffee would be nice if you have some." The female officer said. She was a pretty tall gal, with round grey eyes. It was kind of hard to take my eyes off of her as she sat down next to her partner. As I measured out the coffee in the kitchen, I thought about how she looked like an Amazonian woman. It was comical seeing her sit next to the officer. He was a good five inches shorter than her, and definitely more plain looking.

"It's brewing." I told them as I walked back in. "Can I help you with something?"

"I apologize for barging in, ma'm. It was too cold out there." The woman laughed and gave a wide smile. "I hope we have the right apartment, we were looking for a Mira Thorne."

The two held up their badges to verify. "My name is Rosemary Flannagan. This is my partner, Lucas Edwards."

I cleared my throat. "Yes. Mira, I'm Mira."

"You're not in trouble, miss." The officer Edwards spoke up, his voice was a little deeper than I would have expected. "We just have some questions to ask you."

I nodded to them before hearing a beep from the kitchen. "One moment," I told them and searched around for some cups. My kitchen was disorganized, but I managed to find my favorite penguin mug set. Sure, they could use them for now.

The two shifted on the love seat as I handed over the fresh warmth. They looked uncomfortable, and I hoped to God it was only because my house was a mess. The black coffee table had bills scattered all over the place, and the red recliner housed a pile of jackets and scarves. My heart raced when I saw that Crane's suitcase was still on the matching ottoman! Clumsily, I moved it over next to the recliner and plopped down on the short cushion.

"What is your relation to Josephine Preston?"

I snorted. "Josephine? You're asking about Jo, oh my god did she steal a toothbrush or something?" I laughed, knowing they were probably mistaken or coming in for some stupid charge. Someone probably stole her identity, and they just happen to show up after I knocked out the Scarecrow. I immediately felt better, knowing I'd save myself the unreasonable guilt of handing him over. Then, I remembered how Jo didn't text me back.

"Really though, she is my best friend. I'm sure whatever she did will get cleared up."

They exchanged worried looks. I shrugged it off, thinking maybe it was a little serious. Just a little serious.

"I apologize, miss. Josephine was found dead in her apartment. It looks like she committed suicide sometime this morning."

"Sure." I laughed, speaking instead of reacting. "Sure, I know that's not true. She wouldn't have done that."

It's more than a little serious.

"Mira, we identified the victim as Josephine Pre-"

"Her name is Jo! Her fucking name is Jo, and she's not a victim. I will call her right now and she is going to apologize for not texting me back, and then we'll have sushi or something." I clenched my fists, glaring into Flannagan's face. I ran back to the kitchen and searched for my cell, then punched in the numbers on the touch screen and waited.

"She's going to answer me." I said. Their faces softened; like watching an injured animal. It kept ringing, and ringing.

"Hey it's Jo! You know what to do and when to do it!"

There was a beep. "Hey, it's Mira. You owe me a lunch date." My voice tapered off into a thin chirp.

Officer Edwards stood up, tightening his jaw as he threw his coat back on. "Mira, I think we need to give you some time to grieve." He handed me a card, my phone still pressed to my ear. I didn't acknowledge it, so he set it on the ottoman. "We'll be in touch."

He left without another word. Flannagan stayed behind for a moment, lightly patting my shoulder and smiling. "Is there someone that can be here with you so you're not alone?"

"Yeah." I told her. "I've got someone."

She smiled and thanked me for the coffee before heading out the door like Edwards. My feet were glued to the spot, staring deeply into the eggshell colored walls. It was a boring color, almost like nothing, absolutely nothing. My hands didn't move, and the phone was attached to my ear.

The police were gone, and so was the sun. I was frozen just like the white hell that was raging outside. I threw off the jacket once I remembered that I could move. Then, I threw the phone at the door. There was no satisfaction in that, so I screamed. The screaming made my throat weak, but I didn't achieve the pain I ached for.

My fist hit the wall a few times, and I shattered a heavy glass from the cabinet. Shards went everywhere all over the linoleum, big pieces and tiny ones too. I hit the floor, next to the scattered pieces, staring at them in a strange trance of peace.

Everything was so blurry and so dizzy to me, but god those pieces of glass looked so pretty on the floor. They weren't cold like snowflakes, but they shined just as well. Would the shards melt in my hands like the snow too? Would they disappear within me? I reached my hand out. I wanted to see.

"Be good." A voice said.

I didn't just ignore the voice; I physically couldn't react to it. The hands I felt were different than the ones from earlier, even though I knew they were exactly the same. No, I didn't wonder how the Doctor became free; because I couldn't think. All I did was feel everything shooting toward me.

He lifted me like a toddler, putting his hands beneath my armpits and getting me back on my feet. My knees buckled and released, but he got me right back up and set me on the kitchen counter like before.

"Damn cheap handcuffs, Mira." He smiled grim. No reaction; he could have cut me in half with a saw and I wouldn't have disapproved.

I didn't protest when he threw my body over his shoulder and carried me back to the bedroom. Still, he wasn't kind when he clumsily dropped me onto the bed and threw the covers over my face. I did push them over, and saw him look out the window. He looked so pretty in the light. Pretty isn't the word to use.

"Are you going back to Arkham?" I asked, not recognizing my own voice.

"Not in this." He responded, still looking dreamily out the window.

"I'm sorry about your head, Doctor Crane. The Scarecro-"

"You did what you needed to." He snapped. "Now go to sleep, you sound pathetic."

The words stung, and the tears rolled down my face without any signs of stopping. I hurt so badly, and for some fucked up reason, I just wanted Crane to like me; Maybe just enough to provide a slight comfort in the night.

"You can sleep here tonight." I mumbled. "It doesn't matter to me."

He ignored me, still staring out the window. I wondered if Crane liked watching the snow like I watched the glass. "I'm asking you to stay with me." I pressed, a little more assertive. "Please."

Crane slowly looked over before rolling his eyes. I watched him take off his jacket and fish for a hanger in the closet. Pulling out a few, he hung his jacket, button down, and even his pants before sauntering over in a pair of boxers. It was odd, seeing him out of the majority of his clothes. The man had a lean figure with a fair layer of muscle. He ran a hand through his messy locks, giving a sigh and sneaking under the blanket.

"I hope you weren't intending to cuddle." He scolded, keeping his body on the opposite side of the bed.

"No. I just want to be broken for the night.