Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the Potterverse and also nothing of the Batman-verse.
Imaginary Friend
Without Magic
She was groggy. Her vision swam when she managed to force her eyes open. She knew she was lying down on her side, because the world seemed to be at a strange angle when she finally managed to blink the sleep away from her eyes. She was attempting to move around, to push an elbow beneath herself to rise higher when she heard just a few scattered phrases.
"This wasn't the deal. What the hell did you …"
"Stay, where are you going? We're not there yet. Not there yet."
She opened her eyes wider and the darkness seemed to recede, and she saw more clearly. The back door of the truck was open just a little bit – it was bright outside. The Joker was pushing another masked guy back in the van. Then he saw her.
"Sleeping beauty already awake, tsk, tsk," he grinned, pausing. Still forcing the door closed with one hand, he reached inside his jacket with another drawing out a capsule of some sort. "No prince here yet, go back to sleep," he pulled the cap off and threw the thing inside. It smoked.
Intellectually she knew she had to move. She knew what she should do – she should jump for the capsule, throw it in Joker's face, smash her elbow in the other clown's nose, and force her way out of the van, kill them all with Avada Kedavra, burn them...
She had to escape. She couldn't move her body. All her limbs felt foreign. She didn't think she was paralysed, she felt them, but she could hardly move. She could hardly think, she felt slow and thick, and drowsy. When she breathed in all she could smell was the stench of smoke. She knew the specific smell but couldn't guess at the moment.
"No, let me out!" The guy in with her pushed at the door.
She fell back into unconsciousness at the sound of a muffled gunshot.
BBRBW
"Bruce, you have to sleep sometime," Alfred said with a note of exasperation in his tone when the lift had lowered him in the underground lair. His steps were soft, but still echoed in the mostly empty space.
Bruce never lifted his eyes from the screens. His gaze darted forward and backward, occasionally, he typed a new search parameter hitting the keyboard furiously, but... No results. He heard Alfred approaching, but when he spoke it was as if he hadn't heard a word of what the older man had said, "There's nothing, Alfred. Nothing." He sighed heavily and moved his attention to another monitor. "How can there be nothing?"
"Master Wayne," Alfred laid a comforting hand on Bruce's shoulder.
Bruce nearly jumped. He'd been aware that Alfred was here and at the same time he hadn't been. He felt shaken awake though Alfred had barely touched him. "Alfred," his lips couldn't even stretch to a pretend smile in greeting.
"You have to rest, Master Wayne," Alfred repeated gently.
"It's been two days, Alfred," he said his expression tight and pained. "There's nothing on the police scanners, nothing in the news, nothing, but the fact that they're looking for her too," his shoulders were slumped. "There's nothing that I can find. I don't..."
"You're exhausted."
Bruce opened his mouth to protest, but Alfred had raised him. Alfred knew. Even the corners of his mouth slumped down. "I can't stop," he admitted.
"You have to, Master Bruce," Alfred said softly. "Even if you do find her now, you will be no help at all until you have rested. Right now, a good breeze could keel you over."
Bruce managed half a smile at that. "I've been to the mob. I've put a search through the footage of every CCTV camera in the city. I've …"
"You've done all you can for now," Alfred assured him, remembering that first night when Miss Black had gone missing. Bruce hadn't returned until morning, his whole body a myriad of fresh bruises. He'd said he'd been hunting, but Alfred knew exactly what Bruce had meant. And it still had yielded no results. Nobody knew where Joker was so nobody knew where Bellatrix was.
"It's still too little."
"But it is not too late, I'm sure of it," Alfred countered.
"How can you know?" Bruce asked, his gaze dark and boring into Alfred.
There were a hundred platitudes he could give him, but Alfred settled for the truth. "Because we would know if it was otherwise. Joker wouldn't hesitate to broadcast it in some manner."
Bruce knew that. He had known that, but it still felt more real to hear Alfred say it too. A moment of relief was so dizzying it almost made him sick. She may not be dead. The moment passed and the next thought didn't make him feel any better. It still had been over two days. A lot can happen in two days. Bruce felt the relief evaporating, leaving him only with a sick feeling deep in his stomach.
BBRBW
To be honest, Joker had mostly forgotten about his guest. He had dumped her in a windowless room under constant surveillance, but the woman hadn't stirred for more than a day and it was no fun. He supposed he had over-judged the potency of the gas he had used, but then again, he hadn't really thought about it when he'd gassed her. He'd wanted her out for a while and during that while he had trifled with some other spur of the moment projects.
Now though he was getting reports that his little prisoner was awake, so he was skipping all the way to the monitoring room. The past day had been a bit dull. Though he had been amused for a moment while listening about Batman's rampage, but even that joy had died down, after all – he got the account second hand, but for it to last, he liked to enjoy such attentions himself.
He almost danced in his modest security centre and grabbed a microphone so he could speak to his new pet. "Welcome to my humble abode, Beauty," he sniggered at the end. She was the Beauty; Batman was the Beast.
He watched as she whirled around in the centre of the bright, empty room pinpointing cameras. "Let me out," she demanded without any attempt at banter. Joker was a bit disappointed. He had been forced to wait quite a while for this conversation.
"But you just came here," he whined. "No, no, no. I don't think so."
"I will get out and when I do..."
"Threats just don't look good on you," he interrupted her. "And you're not getting out, but do smile pretty for the cameras, I am recording."
He watched as she moved closer to one of the four cameras, rising on her toes to see closer, but even then, the camera was far out of her reach. "I was hoping Batsy would come for you – he's such an eager boy for that, but I think I might have thrown him for a loop. He can't seem to find this place. It's a bit of a disappointment, to be honest," Joker confessed dropping into a chair and stretching luxuriously.
"How very sad," it was a blatant lie.
Joker smacked his lips. "You lie badly. But it's okay. I think the viewers will more sympathise if you seem more like a good damsel in distress than a rude one."
"Damsel in distress?" her tone was incredulous.
"Of course, my dear," Joker tapped her figure on the screen. "You're going to die there."
She looked over her shoulder, staring straight into the camera in the third corner near the door. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
Joker pressed a big, funny looking red button on a remote and from the vents the room Bellatrix was in started to fill with white gas. His scarred face twisted, his always smiling face was pouting. He had thought she'd be more fun. She had seemed to have more fight in her back at the penthouse.
But, oh well. He had a promise to fulfil and she had to die. Every day until Batman comes forth and unmasks himself someone will die.
BBRBW
Bruce hadn't been sleeping long when Alfred woke him. Waking was a relief. Whatever sleep he had managed to have had been plagued by nightmares that he didn't remember once his heart stopped racing. He rose from the couch and heard his joints pop as he stretched walking towards the monitors. He hadn't left the underground garage space where the Tumbler was parked.
It was on every news channel. "All of you think that you are so safe because Batman is protecting you. Because the Bat is patrolling the streets with Gotham's finest. All of you believe what you're told, because the most heroic story is always the most printed one, but ooooh, I'm going to educate you, Gotham."
Up until now all there was to be seen was an empty, windowless room with whitewashed walls, bright lights and nothing in it at all. And now heavy, white doors that seemed to blend in with the walls opened and a person was dragged in and dropped in the centre of the room. "I'll fast forward, it's boring for a while."
Nothing seemed to change for a while even though the picture was grainy and shaky as it was forwarded and then the person in the film stood up, paced, seemed to be talking, but the film was moving fast, all the movements where jerky, up until white gas started pouring into room and filled it by half. "Now, we're live," Joker commented. "You see, Gotham. Not everybody gets to be saved. Batman had the chance to save this Beauty and he failed. He's not a man of his word. But I am. I promised you that somebody would die and here she dies."
It was nearly impossible to see the figure in the room as the white gas rose filling the space. "Now, Gotham, I want Batman to come out and reveal himself or who knows whose daughter will be next. You have … Another day." Tape suddenly cut short.
Bruce was pale, holding with one hand to the desk to keep standing. Every screen switched to a different news studio with their people commenting on the footage, but blood was roaring in his ears, he didn't hear a thing. "Bellatrix..."
"You don't know that," Alfred protested.
Bruce nearly gave himself a whiplash as he turned his head to glare at Alfred. "I know. I know. It was her."
Alfred couldn't in good conscience say that it meant nothing – that there still might be hope. He wasn't one for false comfort. He moved towards Bruce, intending to grasp his shoulder, show support in some way, "I'm so sorry, Master Wayne."
Without looking Bruce hit a few keystrokes and muted the recorded video that had been broadcasted on every channel and played it again on his numerous monitors. He stepped out of Alfred's way not wanting to be comforted. "That happened," his expression was hard, his gaze pinned to the screen. "While I was sleeping," his tone full of self-loathing.
BBRBW
When the room started to fill with gas, she covered her mouth with her hand. When it was half full, she dropped to the floor and in the cover of the gas drew her wand and performed the Bubblehead charm. She laid on the floor calmly waiting for the whole room to fill so that the cameras would be covered. She couldn't perform magic where they recorded, though, she guessed there was a good chance that the one charm she had already done had screwed with the tape.
Once the air was thick and white in the room - she rose to her feet and from memory sent a Reducto to each camera in the room destroying them. Then she blew up the door that held her prisoner. The door exploded outwards with noise and sharp wooden shards digging into the walls of the hallway.
Her hair was a mess and her dress was ripped – the overdress was unsalvageable, tiny pearls still clung between the folds of clothing sometimes slipping free and falling to the ground. She tentatively reached for her neck. She could feel the weight of the pearls around her neck, but it was good to touch them and know them to be whole as well.
'Now then,' she grinned feeling a bit drunk on power and success. She was free to go. She was free to destroy them all and take her revenge. The fools thought they had captured the damsel in distress, but she felt giddy at how she was going to prove them so very, very wrong. She could be the Beast of the story.
They had taken her and luck had shined upon them, she hadn't been accustomed to their crude tactics, she had been curbed by the fact that they were muggles and the Statute of Secrecy, but now she was going to kill them all.
She sashayed out of her cell. Her head was clear, her wand was in her hand, her steps were long and sure, and the heels of her shoes clicked ominously against the floor. She didn't waste time. She AK'ed the first two clowns that she met and moved on without a second thought though a few minutes later when the exaltation settled a bit and she realized that some deception might be in order.
After all it was entirely plausible that while she was on her killing spree some wretch might escape nonetheless and she hadn't lain on that cold concrete floor for half an hour pretending to be dead just so rumour could spread of her fantastic escape by herself. Such a good thing that a prospective saviour was already at the top of her mind.
She tried conjuring an illusion of him while in an empty hallway making her way up towards exit, but it failed – didn't seem tangible enough and on short notice she couldn't do better. That made her angry, because Muggles could achieve the same thing with smoke and mirrors more convincingly, but then perhaps she didn't need a man, she just needed the symbol. She conjured several flocks of bats and sent them roaming the halls ahead of her. The next clown she killed she took his jacket and transfigured it into a black, hooded cloak and covered herself with it to help with the masquerade.
According to the old emergency exit maps posted along walls - this was an abandoned storehouse near the river, and she was in the basement. She moved up and killed every clown she met, destroyed every camera she saw. None of the men she killed died easily, they all tried to shoot her or rush at her with a knife or their combat trained bodies, but none ever got within few feet of her. Avada Kedavra silenced everyone easily.
The spell wasn't easy normally, but it felt easy on her lips today. Hate wasn't as much what drove it – Crucio was for that, for killing the sense of its rightness was important. The knowledge, the complete certainty that you knew what you were doing and that you meant to do it. Bellatrix was riding a wave of righteous rage. She was the hunter and they were her prey. She was the Minotaur, and this was her maze.
After an empty hallway where she met no one and a staircase where she once again encountered no one, and then finding the entire main floor of the storehouse empty – she stopped. Curved metal ceiling hovered high above her and her caution eclipsed her anger. Something didn't feel right. Joker should be running at her.
She wanted to kill all these clowns to rid herself and Bruce of them, but she also needed to get to the security room and destroy the footage. She was sure that most of the mechanics had gone haywire after all the curses that she had already thrown around, but she needed to be completely sure. Magic couldn't be exposed – whoever had seen it was marked for death and any other evidence was to be destroyed.
So far Bellatrix had been balancing on a fine line of anonymity through the blank diplomatic pass she had issued for herself for legal magical entry into USA, but besides border crossing (and Merlin, she had received official complaint to Minister's office after Sirius' blood oath Apparition) – she had other secrets to keep. Bruce knew of Wizarding World. Alfred. Lucius. She had smuggled dragon-hide into the country. She couldn't afford the attention that would be brought down on Gotham should magic be exposed here.
She had to give up the immediate hunt for her captor.
The monitor room was empty when she got there. All but one camera screen was black. It was the outside security camera showing the Joker at the very edge of it quite a way away from this factory. He smiled, waved, and pressed a ridiculous red button.
Bellatrix had just a moment before the whole building went up in flames.
BBRBW
Alfred didn't know what to do. This was a rare occurrence. There were a hundred things he might do, but none of them appealed to him. What he wanted was for there to be any words that he might say to Bruce to give him some consolation, some manner of peace.
He had raised the boy. He had cared for him since the day he was born, and Alfred loved him as a child of his own. It broke him to watch Bruce throw himself at this city only to be spit out more broken and damaged every time. Come to think of it – he hated this city. This city that took so much and never gave back. This city that managed to destroy every Wayne and those that they cared for. Alfred had seen too many Waynes swallowed by Gotham – Bruce's grandparents and their brothers and sisters, Bruce's parents, Alfred didn't want to live to see Bruce end up in a patch of grass on the manor grounds as well. Bruce was the last Wayne.
And Gotham was merciless. Alfred sat in Bruce's chair and watched the Joker's video. He wanted to unsee what he had seen. To look and to be able to tell Bruce that it wasn't Miss Black that died in that room. Of all the people in Gotham, Joker had managed to take the one that mattered most and strike where it could kill.
"Alfred," Bellatrix spoke, her voice loud and sharp as the crack of a whip.
Alfred rose to his feet almost automatically to turn and look upon a ghost. Because he thought she was a ghost in the first moment of surprise. Her face was drawn and tired, but with mental and physical strength failing, he still saw steel shining through. Her exquisite dress was ripped in places and looked almost like a rag. Her hair was a mess and she looked like she was hardly standing with hands placed at hips holding herself up just because she was Bellatrix Black. She looked real.
He walked up to her and hugged her without really saying a word.
"Alfred," her tone showed her confusion, but a bit awkwardly she did hug him back. She hadn't thought that the man had warmed up to her that much, but it was good to know that he didn't think her an interloper in his and Bruce's lives. "Alfred, I was at the penthouse, but no one was there. I'm looking for Bruce."
He released her, but still stayed at an arm's length. "And he's been looking for you, Miss Black. You've been gone two days and we've thought you dead."
"What?!" It took a moment to try and make sense of that. "Why would you think that?"
She was ready to concede that it might have been a few days - she hadn't been able to keep track of time, but to assume that she was dead… Why would they do that? She had intentionally tried to fake her death once and that had failed, so why would someone believe her dead when she actually didn't want or orchestrate that? She felt an oncoming headache and absent-mindedly recalled a phrase about being careful what one wishes for.
Alfred showed her the video. And looked at her questioningly.
"Yes," she replied to the unvoiced question. "He did say that he was filming." She hadn't thought that the clown would air the footage as well. She hoped that the video was were all the recording ended or there would be bigger problems. "Where's Bruce?"
"He found where you were being held albeit too late. He's there at the moment. It seems that the building is burning down."
Bellatrix nodded. She had known the warehouse was about to explode when she had Apparated out. "Thank you, Alfred." She managed a smile for him. "I best not tarry anymore."
Then she Apparated away.
BBRBW
Batman stood on the roof of an abandoned storage unit by the river. Just below him was the wreckage where another one just like this one had stood. Firemen weren't battling the flames, they just contained them and waited them out. They were all just spectators and he was the only one that knew what he was looking at.
He'd analysed Joker's video through every programme he had and there wasn't much, there wasn't anything but that room, but after measuring every parameter in the room and dismissing all non-commercial and usable buildings in Gotham the search had narrowed to a whole patch of identically built warehouses in the late seventies. The incomplete database of Gotham City Building and Planning department couldn't give him a more precise answer than that, but according to the plans – the room fit by size, by placement of the vents the fact that the walls were concrete, meaning, guessing that it was underground.
When he heard that there was a storage unit burning, he knew which one of the two dozen was the one he needed.
He stood on the roof still as a statue. He already knew what the firemen would find after searching the building. The warehouse was her fiery grave. It would be at least two more days before the news caught of this.
"Bruce."
He shuddered. He was imagining things now. He gazed at the flames below thinking how he thought he had heard her voice speak to him through the wind.
Bellatrix snapped her jaws closed audibly. Unbelievable! She had spoken clear as day and the man hadn't even turned to look at her.
The roof was curved and walking it wasn't easy, but at the moment her vision almost tunnelled leaving him the only centre and the only way. She almost flew to him, knocking him on the shoulder though she doubted he felt much through Batman's armour. She grasped him by shoulder, wanting to turn him to her, force him to look at her, but in that moment, she lost her balance on the roof in her high heel shoes and slipped.
Before she could fall, he caught her. His arms tightened around her as he finally realized what he was seeing, who he was holding. "I.." his voice seemed lost; his embrace became tighter.
She smiled. Relieved and happy – the emotion sapped all her remaining strength. It was silly how her heart felt like fluttering in her chest. She had killed many men today and never once she had felt anything less than completely sure, but Bruce, being with him made her feel things that she wasn't even sure existed.
Being with him was surreal. She felt safe though the notion was ridiculous, she could take care of herself. She felt peaceful and happy, not content, but genuinely happy, and she felt like a firecracker. Like every nerve ending was on fire and it didn't hurt, it just made her want to laugh, to press herself against him and never let go.
"Silly man," she said softly tracing the lines of his mouth, the only part of him that wasn't in armour. "I'm not that easy to kill."
"I thought... The video, it wasn't you?" his gruff Batman voice sounded even rougher than usual.
"It was me," she said nodding her head, cupping his face in her palms. "But I'm a witch, Bruce," she said as if reminding him. "I'm okay," she pulled him closer for a kiss.
His mask was cold and solid against her face, but his lips were warm and greedy. He crushed her closer and didn't let go until she drew away for a breath and even then, he didn't let her go, his face hidden in the crook of her neck.
"You were away for two days, Bellatrix," his whisper was rough, and his hot breath tickled a bit. "I couldn't find you and I didn't..."
She'd rub his back, but chances were that he wouldn't feel a thing through the armour, so she just clung to him and let him cling to her. "It's alright, it's over, I'm okay," she couldn't remember the last time she had comforted anyone. The last time she had wanted to make someone feel better, the last time it had been so important. "I was a bit out of it for a while and then I just waited for my best chance. Joker escaped me, though."
"I don't care about the clown."
"You should," she countered. "He'll come after you again."
Bruce straightened, but did not release her. He didn't want to talk about Joker. "How did you find me here?" He wanted to go home with her. He wanted to lock the bedroom doors behind them and leave the rest of the world on the other side.
Her gaze narrowed. She recognized a clumsy attempt at diversion when she saw one. "Alfred," she answered shortly. With adrenaline dying down in her system the inevitable pangs of hunger made her a bit cross. Also, she felt herself sagging more and more in his arms – it had been days since she'd drank, eaten, and she had spent quite a lot of magical energy on a killing spree.
"Let's go home," he suggested softly. His gloved hand ghosted over the pearls around her neck. She was alive and well. He finally felt allowed to be tired. He was exhausted and wrung out after the last couple of days, but finally he was at peace.
"Yes. Let's," she grasped him close and Apparated. The conversation about Joker wasn't over, but she could let it rest for a while just like they needed to rest and reconnect. It had been a long few days.
BBRBW
Bellatrix looked at the camera, her whole being tense and visibly agitated, her dark eyes misty as if she was holding back tears, but with the way she was clutching Bruce's hand, him sitting beside her, she seemed utterly sincere. "I would like to thank Batman from the bottom of my heart. He saved me. He brought me home," she shared a look with Bruce when she mentioned home.
"Miss Rosier, I know this must be very hard for you. Can you share some details of your terrible ordeal with us?" the morning talk-show host on Gotham's most popular TV channel asked.
Bellatrix was conscious that the show was being filmed live and afterwards gossip magazines and busybodies will print and reprint this whole interview. After all, it was why she had wanted to do this. "I don't remember much to be honest. It all happened so fast and I was unconscious for the most of it. They drugged me with something putting me to sleep. I woke for sure only in that terrible room. Batman saved me when I already thought I had no hope."
Bruce kept his expression solemn trying hard not to laugh. Bellatrix was an excellent actress. Her palm was clasped in his hand as if she held on to him for support. Their joined hands were resting on his knee for all the cameras and people to see.
"We've heard accounts that you tried to stand up to the masked robbers when they were at Mr. Wayne's party," the host prompted. She was a middle-aged woman with rich, curly blond hair and easy manner. It wasn't hard to see why she was such a popular media person.
"I know it was foolish," Bellatrix admitted with an abashed smile, moving her arm to draw the attention that she was still holding to Bruce. He squeezed her fingers back. "But...," she lightly touched the pearls around her neck with her other hand. "It seemed so important at the moment. I didn't think."
Bruce decided that it was time for him to join this spectacle more actively, "Sweetheart, no jewels are as precious to me as you," he said in a low voice his whole body half turned towards her.
A single theatrical tear slid down her cheek after she blinked and bit her tongue to keep her composure.
"Batman has my eternal gratitude as well," Bruce continued never moving his gaze from her. "For bringing you back to me."
The host smiled benevolently. With such sugary sweet admissions this morning's show would be this week's number one, if not the whole month's considering the people involved. "Thank you so much Miss Rosier and Mister Wayne for joining us this morning."
"Thank you," Bellatrix thanked inly. "It's very important that people of Gotham know that Batman is protecting us and we're," she threw a sweet look at Bruce and almost absent-mindedly and discreetly rubbed her lower tummy, but not so much that the cameras or the host wouldn't notice, "safe," she finished with a straight smile at the camera.
BBRBW
"Bella," Bruce said as a way of starting conversation as they climbed into the Lamborghini at the front entrance of the studio where a small crowd had already gathered. "Is there something I don't know?"
She put the seatbelt on procrastinating a bit. "What do you mean?" she asked thinking of the whole mess with her sisters and Lucius Malfoy back in Britain.
"Was it just a trick for the media or …" he started the car, driving off. "Are you pregnant?" It was hard enough to get the question out; he wasn't sure what to think of it much less what to feel.
Bellatrix laughed. "I'm glad that you caught on, I hope many others do too."
It was probably wrong to feel disappointed. "What do you mean?" he asked when he felt more like asking – why did you do it?
"Well, I wanted this interview to draw attention away from the mystery of how I escaped, but I added that to draw attention from Batman as well. The less they think on how it's possible the better," she explained sliding lower in her seat. "The common bored person will be much more happy picking and pointing at photoshopped pictures of me showing that I have a baby bump and picking out our children's names or wedding dates than using logic to find the way out of the puzzle box that is the rest of that fiasco."
There was a pause of stretched silence as she waited for him to say something before continuing. "I'd rather be asked ten thousand times whether I'm pregnant or not in public than be accosted with questions whether Batman is sexy up close and what I think of him or who he might be. This way there's less room for slip up."
Bruce smirked. "You think Batman's sexy?"
But now that the theme had been brought up, he found it hard to stop thinking about it. A baby. He swallowed hard throwing a short look sideways at Bella. Would he ever get to have a child with her? Would she want to? At this moment he painfully realized that – he would want to.
BBRBW
Narcissa swayed lightly lulling Draco into sleep. She had fed him just a short time ago, and she had waited until he burped, and she'd swaddled him in new cotton diaper before dressing him, and now she tried to remember the words of a lullaby that her mother had sung to her. She did everything to concentrate on her boy so that she wouldn't have to look at her sister.
"Narcissa... Please," Andromeda begged.
Narcissa tried to ignore her. She hummed tonelessly, swaying, every once in a while, smiling at her child and correcting the blanket she had wrapped around Draco. She didn't want to be here – in this room with Andromeda. She had avoided the part of the house where Lucius kept her. To be honest – Narcissa had simply kept to her own bedroom and the adjoined room that was Draco's nursery, but today her husband had asked her to wait on him in the living room and here she was. She and Andromeda.
"Cissy..."
"What?!" Narcissa snapped angrily almost waking Draco. She had caught a quick look at Andromeda, but she didn't want to look more, she turned away to stare at the fireplace instead.
"Cissy, please, you have to help me," Andromeda pressed her advantage. She had despaired when Narcissa steadily ignored her, but now that she had managed to get one word out of her sister, she knew she could get more.
"Help you?"
"Cissy, I beg you... I'm afraid. Please, help me," Andromeda slid from the couch to the floor on her knees.
Narcissa whirled around the soft material of her gown swishing around her legs. "What exactly do you want from me?" she hissed, finally taking a good look at her elder sister. Andromeda's long hair was tangled and dirty, her eyes were red rimmed from crying and her face was pale. Otherwise Andy looked whole and still very much pregnant.
"Help me," Andromeda repeated her plea. "Please, Cissy. I want to go home."
Of course. Why shouldn't her sister ask the moon from the sky while she was at it? "I can't help you," Narcissa replied. "I won't," she added, her eyes hard.
"Narcissa," the name was a broken cry on Andromeda's lips. "Please! There is no one else I can ask."
Narcissa gritted her teeth. She would not apologize. "That's a shame."
"How can you say that? You're my sister!" Andy became nearly hysterical. "They're going to hurt my baby! Your precious husband – he will hurt me, me, and your niece, are you really going to just watch and let it happen? You're my sister, Narcissa, please! I know that you have never had a great love for me, but for our mom and our dad, please..."
Narcissa became angry at that. "You little fool!" she spat clutching her son to her chest. "You don't have to repeat it – I know you are my sister," anger seemed to suddenly seep out of her leaving her harrowed, but kinder. "And I do love you. You and Bellatrix, and even Father, but it is you all who just don't understand. You are all wrong. Wrong about Lucius, wrong about our whole world. And you must admit – you've been bad," she finished with a significant look at her sister's belly.
"Are you even listening to yourself?" Andromeda asked incredulously. "I married a man that I love, and I bear his child what on earth is wrong with that?"
"Theodore is a mudblood," Narcissa replied calmly.
"There's no more mud in his blood than in ours. It is rubbish, Narcissa. The whole idea about blood purity – it's obscene and ridiculous."
Narcissa sighed. "You do that child more evil than good by bringing it into this world."
"How can you say that?"
"Because it's true," Lucius spoke softly entering the room. "You are from a pure and noble line and you've soiled the gifts of your ancestors by contorting with that halfwit and to add insult to injury you are bearing that abomination."
Narcissa beamed when she saw her husband. Andromeda shrunk back against the couch as much as she could. Malfoy hadn't raised a hand to her nor his men, but she was terrified of him. She still had nightmares of the first night she had been here, she had woken upon a stone desk or an altar, she'd seen drawings on the floor and hooded men chanting. Andromeda remembered blood flowing from her wrists and her child kicking and kicking and kicking inside her. She remembered pain as if she was being ripped apart and despair as she thought she was losing her baby. Most of all she remembered the smell of cypress. Death. Mourning. Sorrow. Sometimes she thought that it had been just a dream, sometimes – when she looked in Malfoy's hard, pale face she knew that it had truly happened.
"My child is not an abomination! If there's one in this room, it's you," Andy spat.
Lucius smiled; his pale lips drawn tight. "No, my dear. You're the one who has shamed her family. I do wonder whether Lady Black's sisterly love to you has got something to do with her blindness towards how utterly disgusting your so-called marriage to that half-muggle is."
"Theodore is a wizard," Andromeda had her hands over her stomach as if protecting her child, but she was no Narcissa, she wouldn't sit and listen to that demented man insulting her family.
"He is an accident," Lucius countered. "As is your child, but that's one mistake I've corrected, you will see in time that you also share the punishment, but considering you went freely into this situation and union, it is only fitting you suffer for it as well."
"What do you mean?" Andromeda demanded, her voice trembling. "What have you done to me? What have you done to my child?"
"Nothing reversible and something utterly necessary," Lucius replied softly moving over to his wife. He laid a hand across Narcissa's shoulders and kissed her lightly on the brow. "You will be the first lesson to this world."
"Narcissa!" Andy appealed to her sister.
Safe in her husband's arms Narcissa watched Andy dispassionately. She saw nothing wrong with her sister. It didn't look like a hair on her head had been harmed, and if she was to suffer a punishment, then considering the crime, Narcissa thought it utterly deserved. "You want my help, my advice now when you never listened to me before did you?" Narcissa demanded.
"Cissy..."
"I told you, I told you what you should do. I told you to abandon that boy and marry well. I told you what was expected of us. I told you how our world works. I did all that I was supposed to do and look at me – not even Bellatrix can touch me."
"Bellatrix agreed, she gave me her blessing...," Andromeda protested.
"Lady Black perhaps is not fit to be the Head of House Black, but as magic contracts go unfortunately that can't be helped as long as she lives. She has been away from our world for far too long. Her lenience does not excuse your behaviour."
"I don't need your pardon," Andromeda snapped, awkwardly rising to her feet.
"Alas, there you are mistaken," Lucius said pleasantly.
Draco yawned loudly in Narcissa's arms, opening his blue eyes, waking up. Lucius smiled at his pure-blooded son. "You can go back to your rooms, dearest," he kissed his wife's temple. "You've done wonderfully."
Narcissa frowned not understanding. Had this whole spectacle been the only reason Lucius wanted her down here? Surely, he wouldn't do that to her. He knew she wanted nothing to do with her birth Family. "But why did you want me here?"
"I'm sorry, my love, your sister is gravely ill with those insipid ideals about muggles and I thought that meeting you would help her. I'm sorry that that is not the case."
Narcissa stared at her husband's remorseful face and she believed him, still. "You knew I didn't want anything to do with her or the rest of them."
Andromeda stared unbelieving. Her sisters' words hurt, especially, as it looked like they weren't even meant for her ears. Narcissa talked to Lucius as if Andy wasn't even in the room anymore. It reminded Andromeda how she had sometimes acted similarly as a child – drawing Bellatrix's attention solely to herself.
"I apologize, my Lady," Lucius said courteous as ever. "I only thought to help your poor sister. Her mind is ill with these strange thoughts. I had a vain hope I could bring her to reason and ease the wounds you bear from the estrangement to you Family."
Narcissa managed a small smile at the explanation. "I know you only mean well."
She loved her husband, but more than that she needed him. He had been the only person in a very long time who had given all his attention to her. He was the man who had provided her with a home and a Family; a Family where she was wanted and needed. He never raised his voice much less hands to her. He never said an unkind word. And she was a good wife to him.
She always did as he asked, and she rarely questioned him, after all, why should she? He had looked at the least boisterous of Black sisters, he had looked at all of them and he had chosen her. Her and not Bellatrix – the Lady Black, the Minister, the prodigy of the Family and Priestess of Dark Magic, and not Andromeda who was beautiful and funny, and lively where to all that Narcissa was sometimes shy and restrained, and tended to blend in not stand out.
"Go," he urged softly. "I'll join you in a moment."
Narcissa left the living room without another look at her sister. Once the doors had closed Lucius' grin became more manic. "There went your last and only hope."
"You've poisoned her mind," Andy snarled so vehemently that she managed to spit on the floor.
"I most certainly did not!" Lucius protested drawing his wand. "Though I did twist it a little. And I daresay it wasn't hard."
"What are you doing?" Andromeda stepped back trying to increase the distance between them. She swayed, bumping into the coffee table before retreating further.
"What I said," he said sneering. "I'll make an example of you. It's high time I reminded all those morons out there that I'm not sitting idly."
"No..."
"Stupefy," he said, and Andromeda dropped to the floor. He stood over her fallen body and looked at his own reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his collar before moving his attention back to Andromeda. "It would probably have hurt less if you'd just stayed on the couch. Idiot."
"McNair!" he called. A moment later a pale slip of a wizard rushed into the room. "I think it's time we sent Lady Black a birthday present, wouldn't you agree?"
McNair looked at the unconscious woman and a red, bloody grin spread across his face.
BBRBW
After dinner it was quiet in the penthouse. Bruce was away on his evening patrol, stalking Gotham city, while Bellatrix and Alfred played a game of chess. It was a calm ordinary evening, one that seemed to herald an endless row of similar ones and Bella found that she didn't mind - especially since Alfred was a rather vicious player and each victory was hard won.
It was the soft cling of the elevator that disturbed them. Bellatrix rose to her feet going to greet Bruce, an unconscious smile already lighting up her face. She was surprised that he was back so early, but undoubtedly glad. However, the person she ran into when she rounded the corner was Rachel. "The security downstairs let me in. They know me," she explained without being asked. "Can we talk for a moment?"
Alfred was already looming around the corner so instead of commenting the future career of the guardsmen on the ground floor Bella grit her teeth and nodded her acquiescent. "Let's move closer to the balcony. Gotham is divine at night from this height."
Rachel greeted Alfred politely as she passed him and then both women moved to a quieter corner. Rachel dropped into an armchair without waiting for a specific invitation. "We have to talk," her tone was just shy of hostile.
"Enlighten me," Bellatrix said sitting down with more grace. She took in all of Rachel's appearance. The other woman was in her work clothes – a classic black costume, her hair done up leaving the overall impression of a professional, career government employee, and she had obviously come at a time she had expected Bruce to be out. Bellatrix found that she was looking forward to this conversation.
"I know what you did to me," Rachel came out straight.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," Bella watched Rachel lazily through half-hooded, cautious eyes leaning back in her armchair comfortably. She guessed well enough that the memory of that unfortunate afternoon all those years ago had finally resurfaced.
"I think you do," Rachel leaned forward, her presence forceful and strong.
"If that were the truth then I would wonder whether it's courage or idiocy that makes you confront me."
"Friendship," Rachel said empathetically, her whole body moving to accentuate that one word.
"You and I have never been friends, Miss Dawes," Bellatrix commented almost gently. She had known Rachel almost as long as she had known Bruce – there was a difference by one day, and yet she had never warmed up to Rachel. Bella wondered whether her dislike of Rachel wasn't similar in its roots to her general indifference for Narcissa.
"I meant Bruce," Rachel said. She reigned from her armchair like a queen – both elbows on the armrests, poised as a rattlesnake ready to strike.
Bellatrix crossed one leg over the other completely composed and almost cavalier. "Then that's how they're now calling it."
"What are you talking about?" Rachel demanded feeling as she did in court when she suspected that a witness was trying to skirt around the truth.
"I was under the general impression that friends stand up for friends, and that they don't ditch them, because of public pressure or persona," Bella spoke easy, airily as if recounting an entry from Wikipedia. "Generally, I kind of thought that being friends meant caring for the other person rather than wanting to possess them, because they would be such a shiny, powerful toy," her gaze was hard, pining Rachel in her seat. "Not to mention that I was under the assumption that friends don't make promises only to break them a day later with another guy, but I must have been mistaken. The whole thing about placing your friend's well-being over your own, must be overrated, right, Rachel?"
Rachel felt heat rising in her face and just knew that she had blushed. She hated it. She had nothing to blush over. And how did the woman know this much? Had Bruce told her something? "It's not what you think, and I don't have to explain myself to you."
"You most certainly don't," Bellatrix agreed graciously. Her tone was sweet and polite, but her eyes were boring into Rachel as a pair of drills. "You're a free woman, unless of course you've accepted Harvey Dent's proposal?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business," Rachel replied sharply, wondering whether Bellatrix had her followed.
"By association," Bellatrix's smile was venomous. "As long as you have something to do with Bruce you will have to deal with me as well, but rest assured, you shall never hurt him again like you've done in the past."
"I've never hurt Bruce!" Rachel protested heatedly. She opened her mouth to say something more, but Bellatrix beat her to that.
"You broke his heart. Twice. Never again," her tone was merciless. If there were things that she would never be able to forgive – that were slights against those she considered hers.
"I've never! I don't know..."
"Exactly. You didn't even notice," Bellatrix stopped glaring at Rachel. And she stopped using Legilimency to prey for surface thoughts.
Rachel's eyes flamed along with her blood pressure. "You may think that you're protecting him. You may imagine that you are exactly what he wants or needs, but that doesn't change who you are. You're a monster."
"Please, do continue," Bella gestured with her hand. "There are so many more adjectives after all. I'm what? An abnormality? Barbarian? A beast? A demon or devil? Horror come to live. A fiend and a freak. Savage. Perhaps a villain and that would make you the damsel in distress? Would you like that?"
"You try to make light of it, but it doesn't change anything. You erased my memories."
Tiring of the game, Bellatrix admitted the fact to see how Rachel would react. "And quite a feat that was, considering I was only a projection of myself at the time."
For a moment Rachel was stupefied, shocked into silence by the admission, but she twined her fingers together and composed herself quickly. "Why did you do it?" she asked softly.
"To be honest? Because you annoyed me."
"You're lying," Rachel responded immediately without blinking and without second guessing her instinct.
"You presume a lot," Bellatrix noted, but in a way, she was pleased. Rachel was clever. This would be far more tedious otherwise. It didn't mean that Bella suddenly acquired a soft spot for the girl, though.
"No, I just spend most of my days putting criminals behind bars and I know a lie when I see one. You lie well, but it was a lie nonetheless," Rachel explained the fight in her settling down.
Bellatrix smiled lightly but didn't comment. Outside the sky was pitch black, but lights were on all over the city making it seem a city of fireflies.
"I won't ask. You will just tell me another lie if pressed," Rachel observed a moment later.
Bella nodded in agreement, "True enough." There was no reason for her to explain why hadn't wanted Bruce to know that other people could see her at the time. There was no reason to explain anything at all – it was between her and Bruce, and she had already told him.
"Where does that leave us?" Rachel asked. To be honest as she was riding up in the elevator Rachel had been half certain that once she confronted Bellatrix the woman would attack her.
"You tell me," if Rachel was going to be a problem Bellatrix was going to Obliviate her again and do it properly this time. She was well aware that Bruce probably wouldn't be happy with her if she did it and he found out about it, but a) who's to say that he would find out about it and b) if Rachel would persist on being a headache then, well, there was quite no other way short of feeding her to the fish in the bay, and that would make Bruce even more disagreeable. If he found out. Bellatrix smiled wolfishly.
"Despite what you think, I really do wish only the best for Bruce. I know I've made mistakes with him, but... I have many excuses and none at the same time. I care for him. A lot. I don't want to see him hurt by you. Or anyone else for that matter," Rachel said honestly. "I don't want to see anyone hurt by you. Your manner is easy enough, but you're dangerous. I know what you did to me."
"Let me ask you one question," when Rachel nodded her agreement, Bellatrix continued, "When you came here tonight – why did you come? What was your objective?"
Rachel thought for a moment. "I wanted to confront you. To tell you that I know what you are and see how you would defend yourself."
"And, how did I?" Bellatrix asked genuinely curious.
"You didn't, but I think I can live with it." Rachel paused. "I will be watching you, though, and I don't care what you think you can do and what you actually can do – I will not see you drag Bruce down to your level. He's a good man. He deserves the best."
"He has me."
BBRBW
The penthouse was quiet and the clock stroke midnight. Bellatrix stretched as she rose from her chair. She was the only person in the penthouse. Bruce had called Alfred a few hours ago – complaining, among other things, that after all they'd been through, he still didn't have Bella's phone number, and saying that he'd be late this night.
Apparently, Joker had murdered two men tonight and threatened the Mayor. Bellatrix found that she really didn't care about that, but Bruce was acting as if land was burning under his feet, her hero. This time she just checked that Bruce wasn't about to go somewhere where people might try to kill him – he assured her that he had tests to run down at the Tumbler testing garage, and when Alfred left to join him, Bellatrix calmly sat down in the office she had taken from Bruce and set about doing her own paperwork.
Or rather she had tried to do paperwork – for two whole hours until it was midnight when she decided to drop it all. She wasn't worried, per se. She wondered if this was how Bruce had felt when she'd been missing. There was a feeling of unease coiled like a nest of black, slimy snakes at the pit of her stomach.
She tried to rationalize it as she was getting ready for bed. She knew he could take care of himself. She had seen him handle himself in a fight. She knew he was smart. She knew he was able. Hell, tonight he wasn't even doing anything dangerous, but running tests with Alfred. No matter what she told herself the knot of anxiety did not loosen.
She climbed into the bed thinking that she had to find a way to deal with this – to get rid of this feeling, because the problem, uncharacteristically, was with her. Bruce wouldn't stop being Batman and she wouldn't ask. It would be like him asking her to stop doing magic. She just had to get herself in check. Worrying, after all, had never done anyone any good.
Despite all her self-assurances, she still slept more easily once Bruce joined her at about three in the morning.
An hour later they were awakened by a loud noise like the crack of a whip.
"What?!" Bruce sat up going from asleep to awake in a matter of seconds. He froze, though, when he saw what was hovering at the foot of their bed. Bellatrix was slower to wake and when she dragged herself up, holding on Bruce's shoulder and saw the intruder - she huffed and wanted nothing more than to drop back into the mattress.
"Fawkes," Bellatrix pronounced the name as if it had a foul taste in her mouth.
"Bella, that's ..." Bruce felt like a child who was at a carnival for the first time and desired to point at everything shiny with his finger. He restrained himself, though.
"A flaming chicken, yes," Bellatrix agreed before addressing the bird itself, "What do you have, Fawkes?"
The bird chirped a thrilling melody that wiped away Bellatrix's sleepiness, but not tiredness. "What do you have for me, Fawkes?" she repeated, because the bird wouldn't have visited on his own, he had a message and it probably wasn't good news. She just wished that this bad news had arrived at a more humane hour.
"It's beautiful," Bruce said wonderingly when Fawkes flew closer to drop a letter in Bella's lap. He reached to touch the bird and Fawkes let him, stretching wings and obviously pleased to be admired.
"It's a phoenix," Bella told him absent-mindedly, reaching backwards to switch on the lights so that she could read this mail of utmost importance at four in the morning, according to the watch on the night-stand.
"A phoenix? Those are real?" Bruce asked glancing at her while Fawkes had moved closer to the man, enjoying his attention.
"As are unicorns, dragons and a whole lot of other beasts, didn't I tell you already?" she asked breaking the seal on the letter. The seal was Minister's. The letter was from Sirius. It seemed that Dumbledore wasn't the only one who used this 'precious, magical miracle' as a post owl.
"Yes, but to see one, it's … Amazing. How did it find us? I thought nobody knows where you are?"
"He," Bellatrix corrected. "The chicken is a he. Name's Fawkes. And phoenixes are the only birds that can find you anywhere if they know you and if they want to. Fortunately, they are very, extremely rare birds," Bella explained unfolding the letter. Her teasing smile was all teeth as she looked at Fawkes, "I wonder why."
Fawkes chirped, flapping his wings and disappeared with a loud, fiery crack smouldering the blanket on Bella's side. Bruce chuckled. "I don't think he likes you very much."
"I'm an acquired taste. He has none," she quipped before turning her attention to the letter.
"What is it?" he asked about the letter, leaning in closer, drawing one arm around her to pull her closer.
Bella told him as she read, "It's from my cousin. … My sister's been found," she left out the part where Sirius had written that they'd found Andromeda tied to a statue in the middle of Diagon Alley. "She seems alright, but she's at Saint Mango's currently. It's a wizarding hospital, remember?" Hysterical and demanding that the Healers force start her labour. "She's close to her due date so the baby should be born soon." She's getting her way and the child will be born within the next day. She insists Malfoy has done something to it. But the Healers can't find anything.
Bruce grinned. "That's fantastic news. Worth to be woken up for."
Bellatrix wasn't quite so pleased and didn't hurry to agree. "I'm missing something," she said utterly convinced about it.
"Why do you think so?"
"Because this is too simple. Too clean. Too... harmless. There's something that I'm not seeing yet, some kind of ulterior motive or plan that Lucius has and I'm not seeing and I fear I won't until it hits me like a ton of bricks like everyone else."
Bruce rubbed her shoulders. "You're too tense."
"You're not saying that I'm wrong, though," she said quietly, relaxing to his touch.
"No, I'm not," he agreed. He brushed her hair aside, massaging her shoulders and back. "You'll have to go to her."
"I know," Bella sighed as he kneaded a tense muscle, surrendering to his warm touch. "But not now. In a few hours."
BBRBW
When Bellatrix arrived at Saint Mango's reception area most of those who weren't staff started pointing fingers and whispering. Apparently, they had believed that she had died. There went that down the drain – Bellatrix mentally affixed a point to Lucius for this before heading for the receptionist.
She was pleased to see Aurors outside her sister's room though at this point they were of small use. Bellatrix was ready to bet that whatever Lucius had had in mind – he had already done and all they were left with was to discover what that was, and Bella didn't like that in the least. She had not forgotten about Carrow and his sudden Metamorphmagus talent. She could only dread and guess which from a number of ways Malfoy had used to steal the power from Andromeda's baby.
When she entered the room with the white Healer's coat over her clothes, she found it light and spacey and Andromeda hard at labour. Ted was holding her hand. An apprentice Healer was wiping her brow and a Healer was couching her through contractions, but there was no one else here.
Knowing Andy, Bellatrix had expected that the room would be stacked with people. Friends and relatives, likewise. Even Sirius or the Potters weren't here, and she knew that her sister had grown close to them. Especially Lily since Andy's magic was Light. She went and took her sister's other hand in her own.
Andromeda was sweating and panting from exertion. She was red in face but determined. She saw Bellatrix but didn't have the breath to greet her – she did clasp her sister's hand with an iron hold and didn't let go. Andromeda threw a short, panicked look at her elder sister before squeezing her hand tighter and screaming in pain.
Bellatrix watched her sister for a long while, murmuring sweet nothings to her along with Ted before she finally realized what it was that seemed so profoundly missing. It wasn't the lack of people or things. It was something entirely else. There was not a single trace of joy in Andy's face, only grim resolve.
It was hours later when the baby had been born when all became perfectly clear. Bellatrix had suspected, she had feared that it might turn out to be something like this, but still she didn't feel half as prepared when the final medical verdict confirmed that. She was slumped in an uncomfortable chair by Andy's bed.
Andromeda was wrecked. She didn't have it in her to cry any more, but she still shook lightly as if weeping though no tears fell. Ted looked lost, unsure how to comfort his wife, if there was anything that could comfort her.
Bellatrix reached forward, grasping her sister's hand where it lay limply by her side. "Andy," she spoke softly.
Andromeda didn't turn her gaze from her happy, cheerful baby in the crib by her bed. She looked at the child and she felt as if she was being ripped apart. Everything was gone. All her plans. All her hopes. All her life and that of her child.
"Andromeda," Bellatrix put some command in her tone.
Andy finally turned her head to look at her sister. "There's nothing you can say, Bella. Nothing. He said I would be punished. Me and the baby. But, Merlin, I never thought..."
"I'll get him, Andy," Bellatrix swore. "I'll kill him."
Andromeda's features twisted as if she wanted to cry out loud, but she couldn't. "It won't change anything, Bella. It won't. He took her birth right. And he took mine. He said we'd be a lesson, an example... Merlin... How could he have done this? How? How does such magic exist?" Her breaths became shorter and more rapid as she got more agitated. "And Narcissa?! How could she let this happen to me? How could she just stand by and watch? What did I ever do to her? What... What did I ever do to deserve this?" She crumpled forward half wheezing, half crying.
Bellatrix moved to the edge of the bed, pulling Andromeda into her arms, hushing her, calming her. She took a short look at Ted, but the man looked lost, staring blankly at his child, mulling some deep thoughts over and again. Bella would have thought that he'd have easier time accepting this considering he came from a muggle family. "It's not your fault," she placated Andy. "It's not. It happened and you'll have to live with it. You and the baby and it is awful, but I'll take skin strip by strip off Malfoy's back before I kill him, I swear."
Andromeda clutched at Bellatrix as is she was her lifeline. "What am I going to do? What am I going to do?"
"You're going to live," Bellatrix replied, perhaps a bit harshly. "You're going to live, and the baby is going to live and that's the only thing that matters right now."
"How can you say that?" Andy asked pulling back. Tears finally flowed over her cheeks. "Are we even sisters anymore?"
Bellatrix dried her sister's tears with the edge of her blanket. "Of course, we are sisters, silly. Nothing can change that. Not even Lucius Malfoy. Especially, not him."
Andromeda nodded, tearfully, finally regaining some composure. Her hands trembled, though and as she sneaked another look at her child, she bit her lip until it bled.
Bellatrix let her sister hold on to her hand, to draw strength from her. Bella had thought she'd hated Voldemort, but what she now felt for Malfoy eclipsed that. Voldemort had taken years from her life – directing her as a puppet master behind the screen, but Malfoy had destroyed the life of her sister for forever.
After the Healer had finished with tests on the mother and the new-born when the baby had been born – Bellatrix had known which ritual Malfoy had used. He had left Andy barren – unable to bear another child ever again and empty of magic. The baby was emptied as a battery as well, and what Bella knew, but didn't have the heart to tell her sister yet was that if her child had any offspring – none of them, nor their grandchildren or their grandchildren would ever be magical. Malfoy had taken their magic effectively erasing Andy's branch of the family – snubbing it in the root.
"How will I ever tell Father?" Andy whispered, her voice trembling. For the first time in years she addressed their father formally in her speech. "How will... Everyone will know. What will happen? I'm a witch, that's what I am, I've always been a witch. A Black. Who am I now? Bella..."
Bellatrix stayed at her sister's side for many hours afterwards.
BBRBW
When she Apparated she didn't think of the penthouse or the Tumbler's garage. She thought of home, she thought of Bruce. Bellatrix was exhausted and with everything else stripped away; he was the centre that remained.
She didn't do such blind Apparitions often in her adult life, but she needed him now, just his presence. If she stopped to think about it, she probably wouldn't look kindly at her own need and dependence, but that is why she didn't pause, and made the more complex Apparition to be with him rather than Apparate all around Gotham city to look for him later.
Bella liked to think that she was more – just more than a witch or simply human being. She had had to think like that to be able to stand up to Voldemort, to withstand the yearning of unclaimed birth right, but Voldemort was gone now, and she had taken the Waters. She had thought that such a feeling would never come again, but here it was. It was maddening.
The first thing in her line of sight was Bruce. A soft smile settled in her face as peaceful feeling came over her. Then she took in the rest of it. It was a small room, probably an apartment. Unfurnished and in dire need of cosmetic renovations. She counted at least five undressed, blinded, and gagged men tied to a buttress. Interesting.
Bruce turned around, sensing that something had changed, but at first he didn't see her. Bellatrix cancelled the Chameleon spell and grinned at him. At first, he smiled back, instinctively, but then he put a finger to his lips before pointing to the other men in the room. Silence, he meant. She had never gotten into the habit of rolling her eyes, but at times like these the urge was almost unquenchable.
She went to him by the window and cast a privacy charm. "We can speak now."
He nodded absent-mindedly not doubting her word. He carefully peered in the spyglass. "How's your sister?"
"Not good," Bella replied succinctly. "But she's alive and healthy, I'll tell you the rest later... What are you doing?"
No sooner had she asked the question when a timer - that on closer reflection would have been a close lookalike of a timer from a microwave – pinged, the curtain rose and shots rang out. There was no time to think at all.
She lunged forward to cover Bruce while casting a shield charm, she knew it wouldn't hold for long if at all. Magical shields by nature were more designed to withstand electromagnetic (photonic) energy of spells and curses depending on the strength of the caster rather than the kinetic energy of Muggle weapons. To be fair, in no way her intention was to sacrifice herself, it would be utterly useless and idiotic for such an occasion as this, but she did intend to pull Bruce out of harm's way.
There must have been more than one sniper lying in wait with excellent firing view of this window. Her shield withstood several bullets, as she pulled Bruce to the ground with her. The fifth pierced through her shield and then her flesh. They fell to the ground and the last traces of the shield shimmered away along with the privacy charm she had cast before.
At first, she didn't feel pain. She was dazed. Then it started to burn. For some reason she recalled the night when she had sat in the Tumbler watching Batman battle the mobsters – the fire fight then. She had been sensibly afraid. Terrified. She grasped at her shoulder, almost choking as she laughed, because breath kept catching in her throat. If you're afraid of something, chances are there's a damn good reason. It was a thought she had had before. She was sure of it.
Merlin, it hurt enough to stop breath in her lungs. She had been hit with curses that had stunned her less. Her eyes rolled as if she could escape the pain by looking at something, anything else.
"Honey, baby," Bruce repeated one endearment after another as he tried to get her to focus her attention on him. "Darling," he tapped her cheek lightly, his voice soft and harried. He was half-covering her body with his own, but no one was firing any more. Likely because lying on the floor they were outside the line of sight of snipers. "Sweetie, you're going to be okay, you hear me?"
She tried to nod but ended up grimacing. However, her attention finally zoned in on Bruce.
Strong and nimble he pried her hand away from her shoulder to take a short look at the wound. "The bullet went through, that's good, that's okay," he murmured more to himself. "Come here, darling," he pulled her close, dragging them a few steps for the cover of the blinded windows. "No, don't talk, you're going to be okay, love," he shushed her when he saw that she was about to say something.
She didn't want to cry, but her eyes were wet. Her whole arm burned, and the pain spread to her side as well. She'd been hit with Crucio before, this pain should be nothing, but the shock of seeing her own blood pour forth and smear them both panicked her. She had never been afraid of blood. She had never seen this much. She almost didn't notice the whole litany of pet names Bruce had suddenly acquired for her.
He gathered her in his arms and rose to his feet smoothly. He knew there were ambulances downstairs, all he had to do was get mixed in the crowd, get to one and claim she was hurt during the shooting which wouldn't be that big a stretch of the truth. He heard her whimper softly as she was joggled in his arms. He didn't let the sound get to him. He couldn't. He had to get her to an ambulance first.
The injury wasn't life threatening; it was all he could think to calm himself. It wasn't. It wasn't. It wasn't. The thought barely helped at all.
BBRBW
"What is that?" Bruce asked suspiciously as the paramedic in the ambulance pressed a queer looking bottle to Bella's lips, making her drink, without even taking a proper look at her shoulder. "What the hell?" he rose as a tidal wave, grabbing the medic by his collar and pressing him into the cabinets.
Bella felt her mind clearing like sky after a storm – quickly and suddenly. Fire of a different kind spread through her veins and pain vanished as her flesh knit itself together. She winced and almost gagged. "That was the most foul-tasting potion I have had … Ever."
"Bellatrix...," his grip on the medic didn't slack as he looked at Bella wonderingly. He'd seen healing magic before, but he sure as hell hadn't expected to see it here and now. He didn't release the wizard, because he didn't trust him in the least.
"Mister Wayne, if you would please … release me? My only intention was to help," the man dressed as a paramedic said.
"Who are you?" Bruce demanded though he didn't try to choke the other man quite so much anymore. If there was one thing, he had learned about magical people from Bellatrix it was that they were just like ordinary men which meant that this one most certainly wasn't just a random good Samaritan.
"A Healer," the man replied at the same time Bellatrix said, "Wizard."
"It's both, most likely," Bellatrix supplied a moment later. "He didn't harm me. He really did heal me," she said poking at the hole in her blouse. Her clothes and skin were still stained with blood, but she was whole again underneath it all.
Bruce released the wizard, but still watched him for any wrong movement. "I wasn't aware of any wizards in Gotham."
"You wouldn't be," the man replied pleasantly even though Bruce had just almost smeared him against the cabinets.
"Neither was I," Bellatrix interjected.
"Yes, well... You weren't looking, were you?" the man asked straightening his clothes. "And to tell the truth there aren't very many of us."
Bella's gaze narrowed. "I'd say thank you, but you wouldn't be here at this time if you didn't want something."
"Astute," the wizard grinned widely showing crooked front teeth. "There is one small thing I'd like to discuss with you."
Bruce sat down, still watching the wizard warily. Blindly his hand found Bella's and squeezed lightly. She was okay. He held a sigh. She was okay. He clenched his other hand into a fist to stop his fingers from trembling.
"I have a job offer for you," the wizard finally said, drawing his hand through his light hair, almost unnerved, when nobody spoke for nearly a minute.
"Not interested," Bellatrix replied immediately, absent-mindedly stroking Bruce's fingers with her thumb where their hands were clasped.
The wizard had expected such an answer. "We know who you are."
If the other man's words were a threat, they were a very poor one. "Fascinating. I know who I am as well."
"You didn't even ask me what kind of job it is," the wizard countered.
"Because I'm not interested," Bellatrix faked a smile. "Didn't I already tell you that?"
"But you are, Lady Black. You most certainly are because you can't live without the Wizarding world. It's your world and you can't let it go. Otherwise would you Apparate back to Britain every other day?"
They may monitor how often she crossed the barrier, but that meant nothing. "Lucius Malfoy is a pesky, recurring problem."
"Malfoy is just a name. After him there will be others. Other problems and always a reason to return. Magic is in your blood," the wizard said passionately.
"I'm not contesting that," she addressed the last bit of his speech. "But you're forgetting that I'm the Lady of my House. My family is in Great Britain, what exactly is so surprising in the fact that I travel there?"
"The fact that you always return here," and the wizard looked at Bruce when he said that.
"Your meaning?" her tone was sharp and threatening, intent on drawing attention back to herself.
"We've been watching you," the man said softly looking back at her. "It looks as if you're here to stay."
"If I am, what's to say that I want anything to do with wizards here? Maybe I want to live peacefully like a muggle."
"We've been watching you."
"And?" Bellatrix didn't bother to hide the note of exasperation in her voice. Though at the back of her mind she wondered whether this was exactly what she had feared when she had escaped Joker's clutches.
The wizard sighed sensing that he was getting nowhere. He hadn't expected much more out of this first meeting, but it still rankled. "Very well. We will talk again."
"I doubt that."
"We will," the wizard assured her. "But for now, as a Healer I would suggest you rest for the rest of the day. It's been quite trying, hasn't it?"
Bellatrix felt almost uneasy. She wasn't sure whether the man implied more than he said. Had there been magic caught on camera? Did he know about the dragon-hide? Or worse… Was it possible that he knew about Andromeda already? Perhaps he was just fishing… Was he working for the government or was he from some independent group of random fanatics?
"Till we meet again. And by the way – my name is Daryn Hughes, Milady," the man bowed lightly before he disappeared into the crowd.
"What was that?" Bruce asked her - referring to the whole conversation.
Bellatrix stared at the spot she'd last seen the wizard. "I'm not sure," she answered cautiously. But the way things are going – it's unlikely to be anything good.