Author's Note: This chapter feeds directly off of the previous one, so if you have not read the last posted chapter, I suggest reading or re-reading it before you start this one! Also, the song for this chapter is 'Every Breath You Take' by Chase Holfelder (Major to Minor). Look for it on YouTube and listen because it really does fit this chapter so perfectly. So without further ado, let's start this back up with a bang, shall we? The First Responder…continued.
…..
"Leila?"
She froze, her mouth agape with both surprise and dread as Matt began walking slowly toward her, rounding the back of his Jeep. His blue eyes were narrowed on the red tail lights of the black van, watching as they disappeared around the corner of the garage to the left. For one foolish moment, Leila wondered if she should attempt to hide the large, bulky medical kit behind her back, like a child caught stealing a cookie. His gaze shifted to her, his carefully groomed eyebrows arching as he glanced down her figure and up again to her face. She finally managed to find her tongue.
"Matt!" she exclaimed with a highly forced, almost mechanical smile. She struggled to keep her voice light and nonchalant with what she could only hope sounded like excitement at the sudden appearance of her colleague and friend. "What are you doing here?"
Ignoring her question, Matt's eyes once again strayed to the exit of the garage. He motioned toward the street behind her, where he had seen the van driving away moments before. "What was that all about?" he asked, foregoing any attempt to hide the suspicion in his question. "Who were you talking to?"
Leila felt her stomach drop and settle somewhere around her ankles as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. What could she say? She had been caught virtually red-handed. How was she going to lie her way out of this one? Clearing her throat in an effort to seem completely undeterred by his inquiry, she nodded her head in the direction of the opening of the garage.
"Oh, them?" she asked superfluously, simply giving herself more time to scramble for an explanation. "They were just...asking for direct-" Her heart nearly stopped beating when he interrupted.
"Leila," Matt began flatly, his eyebrows relaxing atop his eyes as his expression fell from concern to impatience. "Stop lying to me, please. You have a medical kit with you. I saw you get out of that van." There was a long pause. Leila's mouth opened to reply but something, some very small sense of intuition told her to remain quiet, wait for Matt to continue. She closed her mouth. A moment later, a tiny smirk cracked his stony complexion. "Look, if that was your boyfriend, you can just tell me. I already know you're dating someone, remember?"
The wave of relief that flooded throughout her was so overwhelming, Leila felt as though she could faint. Exhaling heavily through her mouth, her shoulders relaxed and she laughed quietly, hanging her head awkwardly as she shifted the heavy bag from her left to her right hand.
"Yeah," she replied, shaking her head. "I forgot you knew about him." Her stomach churned with disgust; having to call the Joker her 'boyfriend' was almost as insulting as when anyone referred to her as 'Doctor'.
"What's with the med kit though?" Matt asked with what now appeared to be honest concern, pointing at the bag at her side with one finger. "Is he sick or injured?"
Hoping to continue playing the whole situation off as nothing serious, she rolled her eyes, fanning her hand impatiently. "No, he's fine," she explained. "He's kind of a drama queen and automatically assumes he's dying if he so much as catches a cold. I was just putting on a show and assuring him that he'd be better in a few days." At least I'm not lying about that part...she thought miserably. "His friends were just dropping me off." She continued, suddenly realizing that Matt still hadn't explained why he was there in the first place. "What are you doing here?"
Almost as quickly as he had appeared a few minutes ago, a very sheepish expression overtook his entire body. He played it off with ease however, his eyebrows furrowing, his shoulders shrugging. "Oh, ya know, I was just in the neighborhood...thought I'd drop by. I saw your car so I figured you were home."
"Well, you had perfect timing then," she answered with a laugh. "Another minute or two earlier or later and you would've walked up six flights of stairs for nothing." A second, rather obnoxious chuckle escaped her; she hoped Matt was picking up on her somewhat conspicuous hint that she'd really rather be alone for the remainder of the evening.
Across from her, at the back of her gold Camry, Matt nodded, letting out a quiet laugh of his own as he glanced down to flick a random piece of debris from the trunk of her car. "Yeah, good thing, right?" he asked, his voice sounding distant and somewhat distracted.
Normally, Leila would have conceded and invited him upstairs to watch a movie or hang out for a while, but after the night she had just encountered, from the abrupt argument with her parents to the surprising, unwelcome visit from the sick Joker, all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed with Murphy and go to sleep; Matt's seemingly hurt feelings be damned for all she cared. Yet still, the more tender side of her innermost personality won out and she motioned to him, taking a step closer.
"But, hey, what are you doing tomorrow?" she asked, hoping her offer would soften her rejection. "We could go see a movie or get lunch or something?"
A characteristically charming smile met Matt's face as he arched one eyebrow. "I'm working tomorrow," he answered. "We both are. We work together, remember?"
Rolling her eyes, Leila laughed, shaking her head as she smacked the heel of her hand against her forehead lightly. "Duh, of course," she answered, internally kicking herself. It seemed her brain was cognitively telling her that it had had enough human interaction for one day. "Well, then...I guess I'll see you at work tomorrow?" she asked a moment later, watching as Matt began to turn away from her to walk back to his car.
He nodded, waving one hand over his shoulder.
"Yep!" he called, his voice echoing in the garage. "Have a good night."
Not bothering with a goodbye, Leila turned on her heel and walked straight toward the entrance to the stairs, listening as the sound of Matt's car engine echoed in the garage behind her. However, after ascending only a few steps, another sound, a more hated, familiar noise began ringing shrilly in the tall concrete stairwell; a sound originating from the left cup of her bra. Hastily, Leila dropped the heavy medical bag and began fumbling in her shirt for the device. She answered without hesitation but was not allowed a chance to give a greeting before a deep, raspy, clowny voice met her ears.
"Hm..." The Joker hummed. Chills washed over her body as she let her back come to rest heavily against the gray, cement wall behind her. "Matt Park...I think I'll add him to the list." Her heart sank, brown eyes sliding shut as hot tears gathered along the lower lashes. "Have a good night, Doc."
Click.
With the thought of a freshly painted target hanging on her friend's back, it went without saying that Leila did not sleep very well the previous night. She had tossed and turned for well over two hours, wishing she had invited Matt upstairs, regretting her selfish desire to be alone and how she had somewhat rudely excused him when he had gone out of his way to come visit her. Sometime around midnight, she had even picked up her phone and highlighted his number to call him and invite him to come back, but she had talked herself out of it, figuring that he was either already asleep or otherwise at his girlfriend's house. Either way, it would not do well for her name to be showing up on his caller ID in the middle of the night. Eventually, she had fallen into a fitful slumber and woken at around seven the following morning, feeling exhausted and no more at peace than she had felt after the phone call from the Joker.
She had always figured that, were she to go to the police or attempt to 'quit', he would target everyone she cared about- her parents, Matt and Jay, even her cat. But he had never actually confirmed his knowledge of her co-worker's names. However, now, he had done exactly that. Leila felt stupid for so many reasons, she wasn't quite sure where to start. Of course the Joker knew her co-worker's names. He had likely already driven past their houses, learned their families' names, where Jay's kids went to school. The thought of this made Leila feel physically sick with dread. Of course the Joker would know what Matt and Jay looked like; he had been at that apartment when she and her team had shown up to assist the man he had thrown over the balcony. She could also guess with almost complete certainty that he had followed them on some of their calls, keeping an eye on her, watching for any sign of mutiny or deceit.
As she drove to work, her eyes glanced down at her lap, to the velcro pocket of her uniform pants, where that infernal phone lay silent against the side of her leg. She wondered vaguely if the device contained a microphone, so he could hear her every word, even when a call was not active. She sighed, shaking her head distractedly; it would not come as a surprise if it were true. How could she have been so stupid to threaten the Joker's life?! As much as she had wanted to pretend that there would be no lasting repercussions, or that he might simply laugh it off, his phone call the previous night proved to her that no good deed, however forced it may be, goes unpunished.
As per the usual routine, Leila pulled into the parking lot of Station House fourteen, parking her car between a dark blue jeep and a huge silver pick-up truck. Upon getting out and closing her door, her eyes glanced over to Matt's vehicle as she slung her bag over her shoulder; she had to admit, it came as a relief to see that he had arrived safely to work. Not that she had expected the Joker to make any attempts on his life...yet.
The sun beat down on her relentlessly as she crossed the parking lot toward the firehouse and she squinted beneath it, straining her eyes for movement under the cool, shaded docking bay. For only a brief moment, a mere second in time, a thrill of panic seized her, conjuring up a horrific image of her colleagues, her good friends, dead on the floor of the bay, the Joker standing in a huge pool of their blood, awaiting her with a crimson, dripping knife in hand. She shook her head however, casting the paranoia away and blinking hard as she passed from under the hot sun into the shadow of the covered docking bay. At first, her vision was darker than usual, dimmed by the sharp transition from sunlight to shade, though she could make out the large white and red ambulance, emblazoned with the fire department's emblem. From behind it, a young man appeared, distracted and looking down at an unopened box of blue latex gloves.
"Hey, Jay?" Matt called, but must have sensed someone approaching as he turned his head in Leila's direction, his eyebrows raised. They relaxed a moment later as a smile curled his lips upward. "Oh, hey, Lei-"
Before he could finish his greeting, Leila found herself hurtling toward him, throwing her arms around his neck, her heavy bag slipping from her shoulder and causing both of them to jerk awkwardly to the side as the strap caught in the crook of her elbow. In her mind's eye, she could see the confused expression forming on his face as he patted her gingerly on the back with the box of gloves.
"Thank you so much for coming to see me last night," she breathed, closing her eyes as she tightened her grip on his neck and shoulders.
"Uh... no problem...?" he replied. She felt his head shift. He was obviously giving Jay a very confused look.
Leila stepped back, grinning halfheartedly as she replaced her bag on the top of her shoulder. "I'm so sorry I didn't invite you up to hang out," she continued. "I was just so-"
"-Tired?" Matt finished for her, giving her an understanding wink. Leila's stomach churned at the thought of him imagining her with this supposed 'boyfriend'. He went on, waving the box of gloves dismissively. "It's fine. I should have called before I stopped by all unexpected like that."
Leila could not help agreeing with that idea. It would be a very bad thing indeed for Matt to show up unannounced while the Joker was at her house for one of his own special 'visits'. Fortunately, a crackle of static sounded from the radio on the metal supply table, preventing her from having to give a response.
"Compound fracture, young male, location 10567 east Livingston street..." said a male voice through the speaker.
Jay sighed as he picked up the radio and clipped it to the pocket of his navy blue cargo pants. "That's the skate park," he said with a heavy roll of his eyes, jingling the keys to the ambulance. "How much you guys wanna bet he tells us that he 'usually lands that trick every time'?"
Matt raised his hand, still containing the box of gloves. "I got ten down. Double or nothing says he asks if we can bring his board to the hospital with us." Leila laughed, tossing her bag quickly inside the door to the station house while Jay climbed into the driver's seat.
"You're on!"
Work that day was surprisingly fun. Matt won the bet about the skater, as the dreadlocked teenage boy insisted that he always landed that trick every time, before promptly begging Leila to 'please grab my board, dude, please.' He had moaned and groaned the entire way to the hospital, despite the fact that he had been started on a low dose morphine drip, and Matt and Leila struggled with difficulty not to laugh at his dramatics. They deposited him in the emergency room where his smelly, sweaty group of skating friends were waiting, all eagerly taking pictures of his exposed tibia while the patient posed with his middle finger up. It seemed only then had the morphine taken effect as his whining had subsided immediately at the sight of his buddies. The team left him to the care of the emergency physicians and took their leave, laughing and joking as they headed back to the station house.
The ambulance bounced into the bay, reversed into place and came to a stop in its usual spot, the powerful diesel engine rumbling faintly as Matt and Leila jumped down from the back cabin. Jay opened the driver's door, still laughing and shaking his head at Matt's statement that he wished he could've posed with the skater for those photos, since the Instagram fame was undoubtedly inevitable.
"Yeah, that wouldn't have been weird at all, Matt," Leila was commenting sarcastically as they stepped into the cool air conditioning of Station House fourteen. "-you asking a bunch of teenage boys if you could be in their pictures."
Matt threw up his hands, still powdery with latex between his fingers where he had sweat. "Hey, for all they know, I'm the guy that saved that kid's life! I'm surprised they didn't ask me to be in their pics." He had just pulled back a chair at the break room table when the radio on Jay's pocket gave off a short crackle. Matt groaned, looking longingly down at his potential resting spot as they listened to the calm male voice on the other end of the call.
"Male victim, possible myocardial infarction, early thirties, located at-"
The team was already back in the bay and loading themselves into the ambulance by the time the 911 dispatcher finished reading the address, but as the truck lurched forward, Leila frowned over at Matt, who had pulled out his phone and was fervently typing a text message. At the rate his fingers were moving and the way his forehead was furrowed, it seemed this particular text was of great importance so she kept her thoughts to herself. Instead, she let her eyes drift to the small window above him, watching the buildings blur by and noting privately that for a man in his early thirties, unless morbidly obese or with a pre-existing cardiac condition, a heart attack seemed fairly uncommon. Something about it seemed off, but Leila figured they would be there soon to help him, regardless of the cause or his age.
Once again, she pushed her paranoia away, but not without noticing that this increasingly familiar feeling was beginning to spread from her other 'job' to her normal one, even her personal life, pervading her thoughts and actions like a virus. How many times had she taken a different stairwell up to her apartment, simply because she thought he might be lurking, waiting for her in the one she normally took? How many nights had she dreaded coming home from work, afraid that she might find Murphy dead on the floor or worse, the Joker sitting on her couch, waiting for her? She had glanced randomly in the rearview mirror of her car to check that she wasn't being followed so frequently, she did not even notice it had become a habit. Leila shook her head as she slid her hands into a tight pair of blue latex gloves. She could not let her mind be overtaken by the Joker. True, he had violated her life and her sense of safety. She was still recovering slowly from the violation of her body, but she could not let him violate her mind. He would not win that part of her; it was truly all she had left.
After only a few minutes of dashing through red lights, sirens blaring at top volume, the ambulance came to an abrupt stop at the curb before a rather nice brownstone apartment. As she climbed down, bearing her kit and assisting with the stretcher, Leila spared a quick glance at the building, tilting her head all the way back to see that this one home was three full stories tall. As she did so, her eyes caught movement in one of the top windows; a mere flicker. A curtain had been closed abruptly. At the moment, she paid this no mind but made a mental note to ask their patient if there was anyone else in his home…assuming of course that he was still conscious and breathing.
It was almost always Jay who banged on the door to a locked home, as he had the largest fist and deepest voice, all the better for shouting 'GOTHAM CITY FIRE DEPARTMENT'. For whatever reason, Leila loved when he got the chance to do this; it filled her such adrenaline and a surging sense of pride in her career that she was always tempted to add a loud 'YEAH!'. However, this particular instance, after Jay had performed his routine to perfection, there was no harried woman opening the door, no man clutching his chest, panting for air. Nothing but a dull, ringing silence emanated from the apartment. After trying the handle to find it locked, Jay turned his head, glancing down at Leila and back at Matt as they stood there on the steps, looking like a group of spectacularly early trick-or-treaters.
Matt shrugged. "Should we call the police?" he asked, but had hardly gotten his question out of his mouth before Jay shook his head, took one step back, turned and slammed his entire body, shoulder first, against the door. It swung open inward, Jay staggering forward with it, the deadbolt and the wood surrounding it splintered into a thousand jagged, sharp edges. "Or you could do that…"
"If he lives, he can send the bill for the repairs to the department," Jay remarked distractedly as he took the stairs before them two at a time. Leila followed, impressed by her older co-workers urgency but understanding the reason for it; Jay's father had died of a massive heart attack only a year prior.
One by one, the team searched the many rooms, not wasting time to marvel at the expensive works of art hanging on the walls or the immaculately clean surfaces. Leila had just stumbled into what appeared to be a spare, guest bedroom on the second floor when a shout from Jay down the hall pulled her away, to run toward the direction of his voice. Her heart was racing. She felt so alive, so at home with this sort of situation, that for just a moment, one insane second, she felt like letting out a laugh of happiness. This laugh was withheld as she turned a corner into a bedroom, where a relatively young man, still clad in pajamas and an expensive-looking bathrobe was lying flat on the floor, his hand clutching his upper chest, where his left shoulder met his body.
He was gasping for air, using his other hand to gesture at his neck, clearly to indicate that he was having trouble breathing. Leila knelt opposite Jay, nodding her head to show him that she understood. "Sir, you're having a heart attack. We're going to get you on this platform then take you straight to the hospital," she explained, using her hands on his opposite side to roll him toward her so Jay could slide the plastic stretcher beneath him. Once flat on his back, Leila smiled as serenely and warmly as she could at the man, gripping his wrist as he continued to motion to his neck. "You're going to be fine, I promise, but I really need you to relax and try to breathe as best you can, okay?" She watched the man for a moment, but when he continued to frantically point at his neck, mouthing wordlessly, she shook her head, looking to Jay. "We've gotta get him out of here now. He's gonna arrest if he keeps this up."
A mere two minutes later, the now heavily laden stretcher was strapped down and locked into place in the ambulance and they were bouncing along at a high rate of speed, the sirens once again blaring, cars slowing and moving out of their way. The moment the man had been pushed into the cabin, Matt pressed a mask of oxygen to his face, covering his nose and mouth and sliding the green strap behind his head.
"Sir?" Matt was asking of the man to get his attention as he continued to struggle. "We're going to give you an injection of nitroglycerin to help with the chest pain but we need you to stop struggling and calm-"
At that moment, a loud, shrill ringing filled the ambulance. Leila froze at the familiar noise, her hands stilling completely as her gaze darted from the bottle of nitroglycerin and the syringe she was filling, to Matt, whose eyes were wide with an expression she could not decipher. Her own heart began to beat wildly against the inside of her chest as she hastily pulled open the cargo pocket of her pants, bottle of nitro in one hand, the other fumbling for her 'work' phone. Unknown was calling. For a split-second, she considered thrusting the syringe into her own vein. Her thumb hit the green button without hesitation and she brought it to her ear, forcefully ignoring Matt's whispered 'what the hell are you doing?!'
"Kinda busy right now," she said loudly into the speaker of the phone, hoping to be heard over the sound of not only the sirens, the diesel engine but also Matt's hushed, frantic whispers.
"Kill him."
This was the only reply she received. Eyebrows furrowing, she balanced the small phone between her ear and shoulder as she continued to fill the syringe in her hands. "Sorry, what?" she asked, unsure if she had really just heard the Joker tell her to kill somebody. Perhaps he had dialed the wrong number?
"Hawkin, get OFF the phone, what are you doing?" Matt's whispers were increasing in volume as the man on their stretcher lost consciousness. There was now a metal scope in his mouth and down his throat, opening it wide for Matt to insert a tube directly into his trachea. Leila ignored him for the time being, struggling to focus on what the Joker was saying.
His voice was deep and raspy, the same as it had been the night before but he spoke clearly, more loudly this time. "The man on the stretcher in front of you is named Thomas Shepherd," he stated. Leila glanced automatically at the man's front pocket for any sign of a wallet, though of course he was in pajamas. "He's probably about to go into cardiac arrest, due to an uh…accidental overdose of cocaine," His words were laced with laughter. Leila suddenly understood why he had been motioning at his neck. Her gaze shifted there; very clearly, she could see a bruise forming around a small puncture wound on the side. The hair stood up along her arms and she gritted her teeth in hatred. The random movement she had seen in the window earlier flashed in her memory.
"Leila!" Matt was practically shouting now as alarm bells on the vitals monitor began to go off simultaneously. Cardiac arrest. The Joker was still speaking, Leila was still frozen, her hands in midair with the bottle and syringe, Matt was pumping steadily on a bag, forcing oxygen into Thomas' lungs. He was staring at her with huge, wide eyes.
"I want you to kill him," the Joker stated into the phone, his voice barren of all clowniness, only cold and callous, firm and unwavering. "Y'see, you threatened my life last night…bragged about how 'easy´ it would be to kill me," he paused to let out a derisive laugh. "One tiny air bubble, right? One wrong dose?" Leila closed her eyes, feeling her stomach drop to somewhere behind her navel as she finally came to an understanding, even before he spoke his next words.
"If it's so easy, prove. it." he spat. "Kill Thomas Shepherd or I'll kill you."
"Leila, are you kidding me?!" Matt finally shouted at the top of his voice.
DING DING DING DING DING
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP….
Thomas' heart had stopped.
"Leila, get the paddles! LEILA!"
"Time to make a move, Doc," the Joker concluded. "His life or yours?" There was a pause. "Oh, and if Thomas leaves that ambulance alive, you can bring Missster Park along with you." Click.
Leila let the phone fall carelessly to the floor of the ambulance as she stared at the side of her patient's unconscious face. The needle in her hand was completely useless at this point, as was any other medication in the cabin. There was only one thing that could save this man's life; the defibrillator paddles Matt was holding out toward her with one hand, his other hand still occupied by pumping the oxygen bag. But did Leila want to take them from him? Did she really value her own life at a higher price than this innocent man? Could she stand the disposal of another human being, directly due to her careless and selfish decision to get involved with the Joker for money? Could she really live with herself if she allowed Thomas to die so she could live? And Matt…if Thomas lived, her close friend and colleague was dead. They both were. Matt shook the paddles at her, practically screaming as he urged her to take them.
In a selfless, yet insane move, Leila finally took the paddles, deciding that she would rather die than live with the guilt of killing an innocent patient, when she had sworn, taken an oath to perform her job to the greatest of her ability. Willfully allowing a young man to die under her care was simply not in that range. Determination and a bizarre, strong energy swelled inside of her as she rubbed the greased paddles together, the sound of the growing electric charge filling her with heated courage. A moment later, she pressed one paddle to the upper right half of his chest, the other to the left side, against his ribs.
"CLEAR!"
Matt took his hands away from the oxygen bag, holding them up and removing all contact with the stretcher. Thomas' body jolted slightly with the current and both Leila and Matt's eyes flew to the monitor. The EKG line gave one spike but remained flat, that terrible single, drawn-out beep continuing to ring through the ambulance, singing the song of death. Thomas still had no heartbeat. Rubbing the paddles together a second time, Leila's own heart was beating so fast, she felt it could explode. What if she was too late? What if the Joker had stalled her on the phone just long enough to where he knew she would not be able to revive her patient? At least I can say I tried, she thought hastily. That, and I won't have to die…
"Charging to one-fifty, going again. CLEAR!" she said loudly, glancing over quickly to be sure Matt was not in contact with the stretcher or their patient.
Again, the paddles sent a strong current of electricity straight into the man's chest, and again, the paramedics' eyes zoomed to the screen above them, waiting with bated breath. Then finally…
Beep…beep…beep…beep…
Leila had saved his life. But as she looked over at Matt, continuing to pump oxygen while he felt the man's pulse at his neck, his forehead dripping with sweat, she felt a horrible lump form in her throat as though she had swallowed a large rock. Yes, Thomas had lived, but the people who had saved him were dead.
The wheels of the ambulance had barely come to a stop outside the entrance to the emergency room when the back doors were flung open and Jay, along with a team of hospital staff were revealed to Leila and Matt, all of them rushing forward to seize the back end of the stretcher. Matt helped them lower it to the ground but Leila did not move, her limp hands still clutching the handles of the paddles between her knees. Her eyes stared unfocused at one single fluff of gauze on the small counter across from her, her mind filled with nothing but blank static. Vaguely, she could hear Matt telling the ER doctor what had happened during the drive.
"He flat-lined for about twenty seconds," he was saying. Unless she was mistaken, Leila could detect a note of disdain in his voice directed toward her. She deserved it. All of it. "We gave him a jump but he was still unresponsive, so we went again and he came back. Pulse was weak and thready, but his T-waves were at normal intervals so-"
Leila tuned out again, her stomach churning as she tried to feel something, anything beyond crushing guilt. So great was this emotion that the fear of what the Joker would do to her and Matt was far beyond her reach. A man had almost died under her care. No, she thought, a man technically had died under her care and she had just sat there, stuck between two impossible decisions, unable to make a choice on whether she wanted to die or kill a patient. The defibrillator had been her saving grace, but also her executioner, the signature on her death warrant.
It was true, the Joker had made plenty of threats on her life in the past but this one felt real. The tone in his voice, the malice and evil dripping from every word, even the way he had said 'Kill him or I'll kill you' had sounded different, more intent, more certain. It had not been a threat; it had been a promise. Leila's heartbeat had slowed since Thomas had been revived and the energy and adrenaline had ebbed away from her body. Her pulse was now slow, one hard, solid thump after another within her chest, as though reminding her, with every beat, every second, that her life was drawing nearer to an end. She closed her eyes, letting the paddles fall from her hands onto the floor of the ambulance with a clatter.
A moment later, she jumped with a gasp when the back of the truck depressed under the weight of someone climbing in. Looking over, she saw that it was Matt and she let her gaze fall away from him upon noting the expression on his face. He looked confused and angry. Rightfully so, Leila thought dismally.
With a heavy thud, he landed in the jump seat across from her and let his arms toss slightly before they landed on his legs with a heavy plop. He shook his head, opening his mouth before closing it again, his eyes bouncing all over the cabin, shrugging his shoulders as if struggling to find a place to begin.
"Leila," he finally said her name somewhat loudly, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyebrows were raised. "What the hell?" She remained silent as he went on. "I mean, I know I'm on my phone a lot when we're a work but have I ever taken a call in the middle of an emergency? Ever?" He quickly glanced at the open back doors of the ambulance. "Who even was that?" he asked sharply, but only a second later, shook his head, closing his eyes and holding up both hands. "No, ya know what? It doesn't matter. It's none of my business." Leila watched him take a deep breath and exhale through his mouth, though irritation still lingered on his face. It seemed some of the adrenaline was leaving him as well but the anger festered on. She couldn't blame him.
When she finally spoke, her voice was raspy and hoarse. For what reason, she could not be sure. "Matt, I'm sorry," she said softly. "I don't know why I answered that call or even really what happened to make me freeze up like I did, I just-" She broke off, looking away, out to the street through the ambulance doors, as she struggled to ignore the burning, itching sensation building in her eyes. Across from her, Matt was silent.
After a few long, horribly drawn-out moments, where he had clearly been debating what to say, he spoke. "Look, Leila, if that was your boyfriend calling you and holding you up on the phone, keeping you from helping that guy stay alive, then I don't know how I feel about him and the effect he's having on you," He said all this very quickly, as though hoping to get it all out while they were alone. Leila felt a numb sense of gratefulness toward him for his discretion. Matt continued. "I mean, you're just different lately." Nausea at these words swelled inside her. She wished he would stop talking. "The Leila I've worked with for the past year and a half would never have answered a call in the middle of an emergency. You normally don't even bring your phone with you when we get called out!"
Sniffing hard, she hastily wiped away the faint tear trails on her cheeks with the heels of her hands, shaking her head as she regained her composure. "Matt," she began imploringly. "I'm sorry, I really am. It won't happen again, I promise," she said, knowing perfectly well that she truly meant that. It was highly likely that the ride back to the station house would be the last time she ever set foot in that ambulance…at least while her heart was still beating. She went on when Matt remained stony-faced, glaring resolutely out at the darkening street beyond the ambulance doors. "Look, you can be mad at me all you want. I deserve it, I know I do. But please, don't tell Jay? Or Mitchell? Please?"
Again, Matt gave a 'tsk' as he took his arm away, rolling his eyes. "Of course I'm not gonna tell Jay or Mitchell. Dude is still alive after cardiac arrest and subsequent defibrillation. That's all they need to know." His glare shifted over to her quickly before moving away again. "Just don't ever let that happen again. Seriously."
Another fresh bout of tears threatened to overtake her, but she fought them, nodding her promise in lieu of an audible reply. However, another loud noise from the open doors of the ambulance caused her to jump in surprise a second time. It was Jay with the stretcher, bearing that characteristic, teasing grin as he leaned forward, his hands on the metal floor of the cabin.
"So y'all two turds just thought you'd have a nice little rest while I dealt with the doctors in there?" he asked, glancing back and forth between the two paramedics. Leila opened her mouth to give more apologies but Matt was leaning back further in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest and his ankles together in front of him.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "We just brought a dude back from the dead," he said with every ounce of pride he contained. "All you did was drive, fatty, so yeah, we were takin' a break."
At this, Leila laughed as a wildly out of place sense of calm overcame her. It was like the plug in a bathtub had been pulled and the fear, anxiety and dread of her fate was draining away like dirty water. While Jay and Matt bickered, pulling the stretcher back into the ambulance, Leila listened, grinning all the while and feeling more love for her team than ever before. Sure, Matt may still have been annoyed with her, but at least he was putting up a front for Jay, to play it off as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
The sun had long since gone down by the time the ambulance was backing into place in the bay, but the team still had a whole two hours left on their shift. However, their previous call had been so strenuous that none of them felt very much like cleaning anything yet, so they traipsed into the station house, sighing under the cool air conditioning as they took seats at the long break room table. Matt immediately pulled out his phone and began furiously typing again, Jay plucked a magazine from the scattered stack on a nearby shelf and Leila took a deep breath, placing her hand subtly over the silent, deadly phone in her cargo pocket.
She had made peace with her fate during the drive back, deciding that she would use whatever energy and strength she had to fight the Joker tooth and nail, as she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would be waiting for her at her apartment. If he was going to kill her, she was going to do everything she could to take him with her, not only to end the life of the man who had ruined hers, but to protect Matt from meeting the same end.
As she sat there, staring at the table and chewing on her bottom lip contemplatively, she began to formulate a plan on how to defend herself, what she could find to arm herself with as a weapon. She could rush inside her apartment, straight to the kitchen, wrench open a drawer and grab her largest knife. But no, the Joker would be too quick for that, no matter how fast she moved. And what if he was in the garage, waiting for her arrival, just as he had been all those nights ago when she had missed a call from him? A burst of brilliance struck her as she remembered the medical kit in the trunk of her car. Were there scalpels in there? She had never thought to check. She knew there were syringes and medications in there, but what sort of lethal cocktail could she inject him with? It was highly likely he had the good sense not to supply her with any sort of fast-acting sedative but she would check nonetheless. As for the scalpels…
"Guys, I think I left my phone in the truck, I'll be-"
Her words were cut off as a somewhat familiar, heart-breaking sound was heard, muffled and faint through the door leading out to the bay; a baby crying. Matt dropped his phone onto the table with a thud, groaning while Jay looked up from his magazine with a downcast look on his face. Leila sighed, closing her eyes.
"Ah, man…" Matt said sorrowfully, shaking his head. "I hate it when people do this. Breaks my heart…" He stood up, wiping his hands on the front his uniform shirt. "I'll go get the poor thing. Jay will you call PCS?" Across the table, Jay nodded, pulling out his own phone but Leila quickly stood, figuring that this would be her best chance to sneak into the ambulance for that scalpel she so desperately needed.
"I'll come with you," she said to Matt, following him out of the break room and into the bay.
However, both came to a stop as their eyes immediately found the driver's side door to the ambulance standing wide open, where, on the seat, the corner of a large shoe box was barely visible from where they were standing. Matt scoffed, motioning at the door.
"Jay forgot to lock it I guess," he mumbled, moving toward it, but Leila remained where she was, her heart suddenly pounding. Jay did not forget to lock the doors; she had watchedhim do it not five minutes earlier. Yet there was a baby crying in that box. It was positively bawling. Leila approached Matt's side and had just reached him when he lifted the lid.
"Poor little thing…" he was mumbling under his breath. "Probably some crackhead-"
Words utterly failed both of them as the lid of the box came away and the contents were revealed. Nestled inside the box, atop a baby's blanket was a small voice recorder, screaming with the sound of a baby crying and one huge metal tube, red, green and white wires attached from the top of the tube to a small timer. It read '26', then '25'...
It was a bomb.
Without a second's hesitation, Matt and Leila tore back into the station where they split ways, Leila into the break room, yelling to Jay "Get up! Someone put a bomb in the ambulance! Get out! NOW! RUN!" Down the hall, she could hear Matt banging on doors, shouting "There's a bomb in the bay! Everyone out! Bomb in the ambulance!" Panic such that Leila had never felt swelled inside her, her entire body shaking as she tore down the hall to help Matt find anyone else in the building. They were both screaming at the same time, their voices reverberating and bouncing off of each other, making their words indistinguishable. Several people belonging to the fire team were sprinting past them toward the exit and finally, Matt grabbed Leila's arm as she spun on the spot, checking for which doors had not been opened and checked for occupants.
"We gotta go! Come on!"
Leila had never run so fast in her entire life, her legs carrying her further than she thought was possible for a human stride. Her eyes were trained on the door to the bay before them as they ran, her footfall acting like the timer on the bomb. 'five…four…three…two-"
They were outside, sprinting past the ambulance and out into the parking lot where they could see the rest of the station house's employees gathered on the far side of the street. They had made it, they were going to be okay. Leila's eyes had just found Jay in the gathering crowd when the entire world exploded. She and Matt were suddenly thrown forward with the force of the blast, landing facedown, awkwardly splayed out on the asphalt, the heat against their backs strong enough to burn them, even through their thick uniforms. Her ears were ringing at such a deafeningly loud frequency, she could not even hear her own heartbeat. Was she dead?
Groaning in pain, she forced herself onto her side where she could see Matt struggling beside her, his eyes shut tight as his ears were undoubtedly screaming in pain as well. There was a gash along his upper arm, his uniform ripped and wet with blood. Leila reached out toward him, but winced as her cheek grazed the concrete beneath her. The air against it felt cool. She had obviously slid forward upon contact with the ground and was now bleeding from the rash of cuts on the right side of her face. With as much strength as she could muster, she pushed herself up while Matt did the same beside her, until both were standing tremulously. Matt stumbled upon rising but caught himself on her shoulder as his left ankle gave out. Both stared at the scene before them in absolute disbelief; it did not look real.
Like something from an action movie, the flaming wreckage of station house 14 stood before them, glowing bright, blazing like a torch in the inky, black night, the flames rising up, licking the stars. The ambulance was gone entirely but Leila could see bits of twisted metal and melted, warped plastic littering the parking lot around them. Glancing up, she could see a giant cloud of acrid smoke in the night sky, billowing above the fiery ruins like a decaying, black mushroom. Her hearing was beginning to return and voices, muffled but audible, were reaching her ears. She slowly turned on the spot, her head pounding hard enough to split clean in half, to see a huge crowd of onlookers, phones out, taking pictures and video of the aftermath. Her eyes once again searched for Jay or one of her other coworkers, while vaguely picking up the distant sound of sirens approaching. However, it was not Jay's face she found.
He was there.
Her gaze was drawn to him as if by force, lurking in the back of the crowd, leaned against the brick wall. She could clearly make out his black, glistening eyes, his unpainted scars quirked upward in a smirk, his plain black fedora pulled down low on his head to conceal his green hair. The Joker himself was there to observe his handiwork, standing unabashedly in the midst of the onlookers.
Leila stared into his eyes from across the street, unable to form a coherent thought, unable to move, to scream that he was there, alert someone, anyone to grab him, subdue him somehow. Her body ached from head to toe, Matt was losing blood beside her, but as she stood there trembling violently, the Joker's scars twitched in a grin, his left eye winked. With that, he was walking away calmly down the street, his back to the crowd, his hands tucked into his pockets.