Thank you to those who fav and alert. I really appreciate the interest in this story.
Italics are flashbacks.
I don't own Batman
Chapter 4
Screw the rules. Jason had waited patiently or as patiently as he could but he was at his limits. How long was she going to pretend? It didn't happen every day, but every time Jason would come back from a long trip there they were. Cuts, bruises, signs of what Jason could only described as a fight or at least that's what Jason hopped it was. He had seen her move, seen the way she carried herself when she thought no one was looking. Whether she was a pro or not was still unclear but she knew enough to defend herself.
Jason grew tired of it; he knew full well that there were just something's that you can't talk about. Was this it? Was this the one thing she couldn't talk about? Well screw it. Jason had had enough of herself inflicting damage. Caring about her safety wasn't the entire reason for it. Actually Jason didn't really have a reason for it, perhaps that's what was really pissing him off. Did he really care if she got hurt, was it curiosity, or was it a reminder of his own broken self?
It didn't matter how she did it, hell at this point Jason didn't really care about why. All he wanted was for it to stop.
He waited on the roof top of her building. He hadn't been to their midnight snack get togethers in over two weeks. The first week had been business the other week was just making sure his timing was right. Jason could see her off in the distance making her way home. As she came closer and closer the jacket she wore made it difficult to see any injuries. So he waited, she would come to him in no time. If there was one thing he knew about Evelyn was that she was predictable. Don't get the wrong idea her thought process and emotional standing were as stable as his but her routine was like clockwork. She should have considered a career in the train industry.
Right on cue Evelyn walked through the door watering can and all. She walked from plant to plant; Jason was amazed that they were still up here. Aside from the crappy living environment Gotham provided, the fact that they hadn't been stole or broken by now was just odd. Taking a closer look Jason could see them, bandages so nicely wrapped it looked like Christmas and from the looks of it they needed to be changed. Evelyn finished her work and headed back down, once she entered the apartment Evelyn headed straight for the bathroom. Pulling out her first aid kit she began to remove the blood stained bandages.
The strain at work must have caused them to bleed again. Double shifts could be a real pain; especially when none of your coworkers do their share. Cleaning her wounds Jason could clearly see the size, the angle and the depth of each cut. Without a doubt these cuts were made with the knife he had found underneath the floor boards. Rewrapping a fresh bandage around her upper arm Evelyn began to unbutton her shirt. Watching just outside the doorframe Jason held his breath afraid to make a sound. Was he really afraid? What was there to be afraid of anyway? The lack of food when she kicked him out or perhaps the lack of human contact.
Evelyn continued to unbutton her overly flowered shit and as each button revealed more and more of her skin, Jason became sick. It wasn't the fact that each new button exposed her scarred flesh, it was more the extent of the damage that made his knuckles ghastly white. Her scares were everywhere, matching the Jackson Polllock on her neck. Jason's eyes traveled across her upper chest, surveying the damage. It was obvious that whoever had done this had taken their time each cut placed with a thought in mind; a thought Jason didn't want to know. Following no particular scar he saw it; the new scares Evelyn had created herself. Even with the bandages Jason could tell that all her new scares connected with the old. Was she doing this on purpose? If so to what end?
He could hear her nightmares sometimes, after their midnight snacks Evelyn would say her goodbyes and practically jumped on her bed. Sometimes it would happen within minutes other times it took hours, but each and every night she would wake up with a fright. At first Jason ignored it simply pretending he hadn't heard anything. But soon after his own nightmares began as well, he blamed her for them. It was an irrational accusation but it made him feel better, if only just a little.
One night he heard her wake painting desperately trying to catch her breath. Evelyn got out of bed hoping that a drink of water would calm her nerves. When she went back she was surprised to find Jason lying on her bed. He hadn't gotten under the covers heck he still had his boots on with one hand resting underneath his head. Without a word she climbed back into bed and followed his example. Staring at the ceiling didn't help, it seemed even with the extra security his presence brought she still couldn't sleep.
Jason moved his free hand to find hers, turning it over he began to tap.
Tap tap tap stop tap tap stop tap tap….
Jason had never really found a use for morse code, sure there was the occasional professional necessities but with his people skills it didn't come up often. Jason wasn't particularly surprised that Evelyn knew morse code if anything he expected it. Another way to talk without saying a word was right up her alley.
Tap tap stop tap stop tap tap tap…..
He continued to tell her stories. Events that she could either accept really happened or simply believe Jason had an over active imagination. It didn't really matter to him.
It happened often if it wasn't one it was the other. Jason's nightmares were less frequent and he would never ask for her help. He would simply lie awake staring at the walls, although she always had a way of knowing. Evelyn would come and sit down on the couch with her back to his. They never said a word which wasn't all that uncommon. Moving her hand she found his and it began again, this time however it was she how told the story.
Tap tap tap stop tap tap stop tap tap stop…..
Her stories were always so confusing, they had no real begging and the endings were never what he imagined. What did he expect from the mind of a five year old? Even if her stories held no real continuity he appreciated the thought. It even brought him back to his childhood; so far back he had completely forgotten what it felt like.
How it felt to have no real worries, to be free of reality.
To have a friend.
