Good Heavens. I can't believe it's been five months since I updated this. Well, this has been sitting on my flash drive since September and I just found it while working on other writing.
See first chapter for disclaimer.
This is dedicated to Acacia24 for being the first to review
Sonya was dead. Ambrose was hurt badly…but Sonya…her last living relative and sister was dead. Dr. Valencia could hardly believe it until the doctors at Gotham affirmed the fact. She was walking aimless around the crime sight for hours in disbelief. It felt as though the world had stopped, and she couldn't' do anything to help or aid anyone. According the detectives after the coroner had taken in her sister for an autopsy, the full force of the explosion caused both to be blown out the window. Ambrose landed in a canopy over a flower shop, and had it been any other circumstance, it could have been seen as humorous, but his fiancée was not as lucky. Her death came entirely too quickly with the cement.
Dr. Valencia had never felt this way, not since the death of their father only two years earlier, but that was easier to bear because of her sister. She still had Sonya. Not anymore…
The funeral was planned immediately after the autopsy. Dr. Valencia couldn't see anytime to waste and hurriedly hired a planner, choosing to sulk in her double basement and lab. There weren't that many funeral planners, so she had to do what she could. The only useful thing she felt she could do in the memory of her sister was to take in Ambrose. His condition was one that the doctors found interesting and piqued their curiosity. Apparently he had not broken anything. That was not the worst. His body was covered in burns from the fire. Dr. Valencia soon found that the skin graphs would take a while to come in, perhaps months, but in the mean while, the doctors had no choice but to stitch what they could and hand him off to her.
She was uneasy about the arrangement. She had never had anyone at her home with her, let alone live with her. Ambrose's condition also surprised her. He could move and walk still. His hands were somewhat functional, and his fingers were almost the only part of his body that had not been engrossed in flames. Altogether, he was a mess, physically and emotionally. And she was no different.
The funeral came only three days after the incident. Flowers both red and white aligned the coffin where Sonya's remains lay. Her sister decided to place them in an urn, but to bury her so that she may have a more permanent and important resting place with a headstone and grave. The procession awaited the minister's words as he held the bible and thanked everyone for coming.
No clouds were overhead as the scripture was read. Gray skies were all that the Almighty offered on Sonya's funeral. Sonya hadn't picked the scripture; she left that task up to Ambrose, whose trembling fingers poured over the pages in the dim lighting of her basement. How she had a bible, she didn't know. Most likely it came with the apartment, but nevertheless it came handy for once. Dr. Valencia didn't believe in a god, or at least since her mother died and she decided to devote her life to science. There was never a religious calling to her, and she never understood how others could believe such. On a day like this, she found it almost impossible.
When the minister finished, everyone in attendance threw in some token of affection for Sonya. They were mostly flowers, expensive ones. Most in attendance were attendees of the Christmas party only a week prior. Their guilt drew them out of society and into the dirt and gloom of the cemetery.
One by one, Dr. Valencia watched as roses and tulips were tossed into the grave atop an oak coffin. A wreath of white flowers lay over it, given to her graciously by the officers at GPD. She secretly appreciated it, only then she had accepted it with as a cold a face as she ever wore. She regretted it. It was nice to have someone care, but it couldn't erase the fact that her sister was dead.
When the guests began to file away, a gloved hand grasped hers. Ambrose had come to the funeral, dresses in his black garb, with a pitch black veil to shield his face from the cold wind and hearts around. She let him hold her hand, knowing he was the only one who understood her grievance. She peered up into the black abyss hiding his true face, knowing he was staring back at her with pain in his eyes.
She slipped out of his hand and turned to leave. The dead leaves crunched under her worn shoes as she stepped over the frozen ground. The frostbitten ground groaned with every step and she could feel her heart do the same as the walk became an ending trial to escape the death and evil that lie around.
Goldie…
A soft voice said from nowhere.
Goldie…
She turned to look behind her, but no one was there. Ambrose stopped beside her standing close. "Its nothing she said to him." Still unsure with herself, she held an arm to the street. "Go on without me. I'll be right there."
A low moan escaped from the remnants of his lips.
"Please, Ambrose…do it." Begrudgingly he turned to leave, doing so slowly.
The doctor walked back to her sister's grave. The chill of the burial ground sent shivers up her spine. The doctor was not one to easily spook. She felt the spirits around, the aching feeling that she was being watched. It spooked her and she was unsure of what to do. So, she stood there, watching the gravedigger toss the last mounds of dirt to seal off her sister's portal.
"Marigold…" Someone said from afar. She ignored the voices.
"Marigold…" It whispered, coming closer. Still, she didn't listen. The back hairs prickled and she braced herself.
"Marigold…" The voice was louder. She could almost feel warmth near her. She couldn't hallucinating because she was sure she felt a person right behind-
She whipped around to find Bruce Wayne.
"Do you always sneak up on people, or am I your only unfortunate prey?" She spat. She circled around to get away but heard his footsteps following. She mentally cursed herself for the previous foolishness she sunk into. Believing her sisters spirit was still here. She was ridiculous. It would be best to get out of the cold and in front of the fire in her apartment.
"Marigold…Dr. Valencia…I am so sorry. You must know it grieves me about what happened to your sister-"
"Leave me alone Wayne. I'm warning you." She said.
"I will, just let me tell you the news."
"News? Of my sister's apparent death, because I knew that Mr. Wayne, you'll have to come up with something else." She spat. She was in no mood to deal with the man responsible for her sister's death.
"The Joker commits these crimes everyday. That doesn't make them any less horrific. However, everything was done that could be done about the investigation-"
"Why? Why in Hell should I let you or believe you? You stink of aristocratic trash, Mr. Wayne. I know exactly what you are. You lie and deceive. You make yourself appear so proud and modest to the public. They fall in love with you. I didn't believe it for one second. Now, I have my proof. The real Bruce Wayne is a coward, and a madman got away with killing a beloved sister. Let it be known it was all your fault. Even Batman couldn't stop him, but at least he had the courage to try. He attempted to save her, which is more than I can hold you accounted for!"
She tried hard not to burst into tears. It was not in her nature to show much emotion around others, especially sadness. And especially not to Bruce Wayne.
Bruce stared at her, face full of grief and honesty. She couldn't believe it. He could play parts well…but I won't fall for it."
"I came here to tell you that your grant had been approved. The board had given you-"
"The board can go to hell. You don't think I know how that happened? It was a pity vote. It was a consolation prize for what happened. They feel responsible. They should. No amount of money will make me happy, Mr. Wayne. It can't bring my sister back." She looked away, hoping he would get the hint. He did.
His face was grim. "I'm sorry, doctor."
She ignored him, turning her back to him so he couldn't see the incoming tears. By this point the remembrance and pain was too much to bear.
"If it's any consolation, I know what its like to lose someone. You have every right to feel the way you do. See me if there's any day you feel you need to talk."
"Doubt it."
"Goodbye, Dr. Valencia."
He walked back to his limo, leaving Dr. Valencia to her tears and the fresh flakes raining down from above.