Disclaimer: I do not own Gotham.
Warning: Violence (a little...?), nonconsenusal use of whips.
3
Three – Third time's the charm
Jason was a very cautious person, hence all the locks and shackles and cameras. Because who he was now, the life that he'd created for himself, the true love that he'd spent years looking for…he couldn't let any of that fall apart.
But he knew when to reward good behaviour as well, and Barbara had been nothing but good. She'd started sleeping normal again, and she'd blossomed. She seemed happy to see him, her smile was radiant and she listened so well…
So he gave her what all women needed: surprise gifts, special date nights, and to a certain extent, freedom. He let her go to the police station to make a statement for her parents' murder, at the same time to clarify that she had been simply out of the city to find inspirations for her art gallery. He'd produced a witness for her, all that so she could roam around Gotham without police at her tail.
But freedom was only an illusion. The more leniency he gave her on the surface, the more control he needed to ensure that she belonged to him. Tracking devices, listening bugs…anything to make certain that if she dared make a move to run, he'd be there to catch her.
Jason was a very cautious person, but he was only human after all. He'd considered many possibilities, but he'd never counted on his own body failing him.
He was sick.
"Jason, are you okay?" He heard Barbara ask, then a cool hand touched his forehead. "You're having a fever."
Then the cool hand touched his neck, and he shivered and pushed the hand away. He covered his head with the quilt and rolled over to continue to sleep.
Barbara blinked and assessed her situation. He really was sick…if there was ever the best time to escape it would be right now.
Her feet itched to turn and walk away, to break down the door and simply walk out and be free. But she knew Jason would never stop until he tracked her down. If she wanted to be truly free, there was only one way.
She'd have to kill him while he was vulnerable.
She tentatively poked Jason's shoulder through the blanket, and he did not respond. She stood there, indecisive. Should she get a knife from the kitchen? Bludgeon him with the paper weight? Strangle him with his own belt?
Suddenly Jason stirred, and she jumped. She watched in alarm as Jason popped his head out from under the blanket—his hair disheveled, giving him a more boyish look—and looked at her with tired eyes. She tried not to look guilty, her heart pounding like a hundred banging drums in her chest.
"Barbara," he rasped, then he caught Barbara by the wrist and yanked her onto the bed with him, earning a startled gasp from her. He pulled her back against his front and held her there, his arm wrapped around her torso and his hand rested on the curve of her breast.
"Jason?" Barbara whispered, "Jason?"
She rolled her eyes when there was no response. He'd apparently drifted back to sleep.
She tried to squirm out of his embrace, but he was so damned strong. She was debating whether she should turn around and strangle him when Jason slipped a hand under her shirt and found her round bosom, his lips pressing wet kisses down the curve of her neck.
Barbara's breath caught in her throat instantly. This was not a good time to do this with him! His body was so hot, she thought the heat would melt her. "Wait, Jason…" But he wasn't really listening, he wasn't really there, though his lower body seemed to be grinding against her with a mind of its own.
"Jeez Jason!" Barbara flipped their bodies over and pushed him down on the bed. He groaned as his head plopped down onto the pillow with a thud.
He clutched his head painfully. "Hurts…"
Then he was out again. If this was not a sign, she didn't know what was.
Barbara took a deep breath, then she picked up his belt off the floor swiftly and looped it around his neck, her hands shaking as she pulled it tight.
As soon as the belt came into contact with his throat Jason broke into a violent fit of coughing, and Barbara let go of the belt with a jolt. Teetering on the brink of sleep Jason caught her hand in his and mumbled, "Barbara…"
With her heart beating like a wild horse Barbara tried to pull her hand back.
"You're the one…" he murmured, delirious.
Uncontrollable resentment swelled in her chest like venom, and she grasped Jason's wrist, struggling to free herself from him. "Why me? Why me?"
Jason furrowed his brows, but he did not loosen his grip. "I love you…"
"Shut up," she hissed, "you don't even know what that means."
"It means…" he mumbled something indistinctly and Barbara had to lean close to his lips to hear him.
Jason finally let go of her and fell back into a slumber. Barbara backed away from him immediately and clutched her wrist, where a bruise was already slowly forming.
She swallowed hard and looked at him with unsettled eyes, her heart disquieted.
All you have to do is grab a knife and stab him, a voice in her head urged, he is in no shape to defend himself.
She eventually whirled around and fled to the living room.
X X X
One day later…
"This is how you live with no fear! You fucking coward! You can't even handle a woman without tying her up? WHY DON'T YOU GO FUCK YOURSE—"
The door suddenly opened with a loud slam and Jason's furious face came into sight. He strode up to Barbara and put his hands on his hips, his eyes full of rage and vexation. "Go on, what were you saying?" His voice was still hoarse from the flu, but the chill in it was evident.
Barbara gulped, her mouth clamped shut. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she panted, and tears filled her fluttering eyes. She croaked, "I should have kil—"
Jason shot her a warning glare, and she stopped.
He paced away from her and took a deep breath, then he walked back in front of her. "When I saw the door broken down again, I thought I'd do anything, anything—" a touch of sadism flickered in his eyes, "—to make sure you'd never dare think of escaping again."
Barbara's eyes were wide and frightened. She recalled how Jason'd woken up a day later and discovered the broken door, then had chained her back up in his kill room, his expression merciless and his ears deaf to her explanations.
And she'd laughed at herself for being so horrendously stupid.
Jason cocked his head and looked into her eyes. "But you only broke the door down to let the doctor in, you weren't thinking of escaping."
"I thought you didn't believe me," Barbara said stiffly.
Jason glanced around the ceiling, then turned his eyes back to her. "Cameras. I looked at the videos and I saw some very interesting things."
Cameras. Of course. Barbara suddenly had difficulty pulling air into her lungs. She stared at him with trepidation.
"I saw you call the doctor, break the door open and let him in. I saw you take care of me, feed me and help me change my clothes…" he covered his mouth in a pensive manner, "that's after you tried to kill me with a belt."
Barbara blinked and a tear fell free.
"Is there anything you want to tell me?"
She shook her head rigidly, unspeaking.
"What did I say to you?"
"What?"
"I said something to you, then you decided to call the doctor. What did I say to you?" Jason asked. This woman was infuriating. She was the one, he was certain, but the way she kept going back and forth between resisting and submitting was driving him mad. He needed to know what she'd been thinking, changing from murdering him to taking care of him.
"You," Barbara gave a humorless laugh, "you don't remember." Good, so that he wouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing how pathetic she was.
Jason narrowed his eyes. He was still not feeling well, and his patience was running particularly low today. "Don't test me."
Barbara turned her head away, and the faint smirk on her lips was enough to push Jason over the edge.
He walked over to the front of the room and took a leather whip off of the wall. To be frank, a lot of the tools here were for instilling fear rather than actual use. He had never had to resort to torture, either the women were or weren't the one, and he kept or killed them.
Barbara was a different case. He knew she was the one. He'd seen it: her darkness, her pain, her struggle. She was the one who could understand him, who he could share everything with.
But he was so sick of her defiance.
Barbara's eyes went wide as Jason advanced on her with the whip. He pulled her dress up to her waist to expose her stomach and legs. "This isn't going to be pleasant," he warned, "last chance."
If eyes could kill, the glower on her face would be enough to kill him a thousand times over.
So he moved back and brought the whip down across her skin.
Barbara yelped as the whip hit her and left a searing pain on her thigh. She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes as Jason whipped her again and again, leaving red marks all over her. Sweat broke out across her body, and she cried out in pain when the whip lashed her sensitive waist.
Jason paused and looked at her. "Do you have an answer for me?"
Barbara breathed hard and gave him a dismissive glance. "You'd better kill me, because if you don't…I'll try to kill you again."
Jason tossed the whip onto the floor and went to get another whip. This one had metal chains on the end and was heavier. He had never used this thing, but he'd seen it being used in Fox Glove. It should go way beyond her pain tolerance.
This time he did not hold back.
The whip cracked through the air and landed on her side, and Barbara screamed. It was a splitting pain, like her skin was torn apart. She did not even have time to breathe when Jason hit her again.
"Are you crazy?!" She shrieked in agony, her body writhing.
Jason clicked his tongue in displeasure. "I get that a lot." Then he swung the whip again.
The whip struck her and she bit down on her lip, breaking into a sob. The pain was too much. Who—whoever had invented that tool was a monster! The whip seemed to slice into her and scorch her skin. "No…stop…"
Jason stopped and looked up at her, one hand on his hip, waiting.
Barbara panted and sniffled. "You…you said you loved me, alright?"
"That's it?" Jason asked.
She nodded.
He brought the whip down again cruelly, adding more force. The vicious whip dragged over her broken skin and Barbara's scream caught in her throat. She whimpered, having lost the energy to scream any more.
"That was for lying." Jason's face hardened, his jaw tense. He told her he loved her all the time, he doubted that'd been what changed her mind.
Barbara sobbed weakly as her tired body slumped forward. She saw Jason move again in the corner of her eye and flinched. "Please, no…" Her skin felt like it was ripping, from the side of her waist down to her thigh.
Everything was burning and hurting so much.
Jason considered her state. She was at her limits, both mentally and physically. Such a stubborn woman. He lifted her chin, forcing her to face him, and waited.
Tears kept rolling down Barbara's cheeks, her tearful blue eyes were the most beautiful thing Jason had ever seen. There were fear, fragility, and a sliver of yearning, and he felt a flash of possessiveness.
"You said, you loved me," she whispered almost inaudibly, "and that it meant you'd never abandon me."
Jason had no recollection of that. "And why couldn't you tell me that?"
"Because," Barbara huffed a teary laugh, "I wanted to believe it, and look where it got me."
"No," Jason said firmly. "What got you here is that you're so damned stubborn." He looked her up and down and exhaled exasperatedly, "Look at you, you're making this so hard for both of us." He brushed back her sweaty hair from her face and kissed her forehead, and Barbara started sobbing again. Was it really why? Was she simply too stubborn for her own good?
"This didn't need to happen," he chided, "but I wasn't going to tolerate your defiance anymore." He held her chin and looked into her eyes, serious. "Either you are mine or you are not. You can't stay here but keep pushing the boundaries. What's your choice?"
Barbara lowered her eyes and caught sight of the horrid weapon that Jason had just used on her. Small traces of blood had stained the metal, and dread filled her at once.
If she did not belong to Jason, then there would be only one place she belonged to. Out on the street, her body cold and lifeless. And there were so many things that Jason could do to her before death could relieve her…
"Yours," she whispered, misty-eyed, "I want to be yours, please."
Jason took her in his arms gently and murmured against her hair, "Good girl."
.
.
The comfort of the fluffy bed was much better than the cold dungeon, that was for sure. Barbara hissed in pain as Jason applied topical antibiotics on her wounds. Purple bruises had started to form around the whip lashes. Some would leave scars. Her face scrunched up at the stings.
Being a tad adventurous in bed she had always wanted to try erotic whipping, but now she shuddered at the thought of a whip.
"You okay?" Jason asked.
Barbara smiled nervously. "I was just thinking…I don't like whips."
Jason's lips twitched into a half-smile and he turned his attention back to her wounds. "Don't give me any reasons to use it and you'll never see it again."
Barbara nodded, and couldn't help but observe how thorough and gentle he was with treating her wounds. Like he actually cared about her well-being, and a question started tugging at her mind. "Jason?"
"Hmm?"
"Did you…enjoy it when you whipped me?"
"I wouldn't say so," he answered easily.
Barbara blinked. "Did it bother you then? That I was…in pain?" That you were hurting me?
Jason looked up at her with confused eyes, like the concept was foreign to him. "No. But under different circumstances I'd rather see you smile than see you cry."
Tears stung her eyes and she hooked a finger around Jason's finger. "Did you mean it then? What you said?"
Jason raised up to press a kiss on her forehead and said softly, "I was so sick I was practically dead meat, I don't think I could be lying."
She tugged at his hand. "You didn't answer me."
"Yes, I meant it," he kissed her on the lips, "I love you."
That's not good enough. Jim has told her he loved her a million times and look where he is now. By Leslie Thompkins' side. She tugged at his hand again. "What does that mean?"
"It means I'll never abandon you. Now let me finish my job," he murmured and went back to treat her wounds.
When Jason curled up in bed with her Barbara had to admit that feeling was probably better than being dead. Her entire body hurt when she tried to move, so she tugged at Jason's shirt instead so he'd move closer.
She pressed her face to his shoulder and sighed with relief.
She wondered how long this feeling would last.
Maybe it could last forever…until her stubbornness got the better of her and the battle would start again.
-End-
Author's note: Oh God poor Barbara I'm such a horrible person, I know...
I'm officially over Jason and Barbara…since you know…he's not exactly alive and kicking *palm to head* But I had so much fun writing about these two! Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed. I hope you enjoyed the read.