19. Listen With Your Heart

The next day, I was woken up every four hours for pain meds, vital signs, etc. Each time I was dragged from my slumber and brought back into reality was horribly sobering. I would be reacquainted with the previous day's antics—the gun shot, the glass wounds, the Joker. I wouldn't eat anything the nurses brought me. I just wasn't hungry, which wasn't like me at all. I'm always hungry and ready to eat anything.

It wasn't until sundown, when I had been awake for a couple of hours that I began getting antsy in my bed—that, and I had to pee (damn catheters), so I slowly crawled out of bed and made my way into the bathroom. Luckily, I was finally able to pee on my own.

On my way back to my bed, I stopped and looked out the window. I wondered where the Joker was and if he even remembered where I had gone. I felt the familiar pit beginning to form inside my stomach as my heart sank deeper and deeper into my abdomen. I crawled back into bed and closed my eyes, hoping I'd fall asleep.

"Giada…Giada?" a low voice grumbled in the darkness of the hospital room. The sun had set hours ago and all was dark and silent in the hospital. Only the beeping from the machines could be heard—and the voice that had said my name. My eyes flew open. I had been asleep.

"Who's there?" I asked as my voice cracked. I hadn't really spoken all day.

"Giada, I'm having you transferred to another hospital," the voice said. I squinted my eyes and made out the tall black figure in the corner of the room. It wasn't the Joker. My heart sank. It was the bat.

"Why are you having me leave this hospital?" I asked, trying to sit up in the bed.

"The Joker's looking for you, Giada. He'll find you here and no doubt blow up the hospital for the mere sake you were here for too long without him," Batman explained.

"That's ridiculous. If you move me to someplace else, he'll find out I was here and blow it up anyway for the mere fact he's angry I'm no longer here. It's really a no-win situation," I responded.

"It's too late. The arrangements are already made to send you elsewhere for treatment," Batman stated.

"You can't just have me sent somewhere else without my consent," I replied with a small chuckle in disbelief.

"No, but your health care proxy can," the Batman responded.

"What? You contacted my mother?" I asked, incredulously, "I don't want to be transferred from here. What if I want the Joker to come for me?"

"It's too dangerous here for you, Giada. The Joker's a mad dog and he's somehow managed to poison your mind—but there's still hope—but if you get out of here," Batman further explained.

"I don't want to get out of here—I…I can't leave without the Joker," I took in a deep breath, "I love him," I said finally.

"And that is unfortunate for me to hear. You do know the Joker will never love you in return—he's a man not capable of love or feeling emotion for any other,"

"That's a lie and you know it. You saw him last night in the ally with Harvey and the gun and everything—he was genuinely upset that Harvey wanted to kill me," I replied.

"That's what he wanted you and Harvey to think. He wanted Harvey to think he could feel what Harvey felt, but it's not true—the Joker can't feel anything but his desire to construct chaos and anarchy in this city," Batman stated firmly.

"I won't have it. I know otherwise—I know he can care for me—even if it takes a lifetime. I know he can learn how to feel emotions again. He was a person once, too, Batman—he was once capable of feeling and loving—even if he never feels anything for anyone else—I know he can feel things for me," I said, wanting to cry. I knew it had to be true. I just wasn't going to accept any other truth, even if it were the real truth.

"It's too late to change things here—but elsewhere…you'll be better off—away from this place," Batman reiterated.

"Running away from something is never the answer, especially if I don't want to run away in the first place," I responded, finally wiping away an inevitable tear.

"You're not running away—I'm sending you away for your own good. We are all ready to do good and I know you have more than the ability to do good—you are good Giada, but the Joker has made his way into your mind to make you believe he cares for you and in that way, he has set you on a path to destruction," Batman said.

I just remained in the bed, trying to force the tears away, but they kept falling despite my efforts. "I won't go," I said finally.

"It's too late for that, Giada. Have a safe trip," the Batman said as he approached me. Before I could say or do anything, I was being injected by some kind of sedative which more or less caused me to remember nothing from than point forward.

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I awoke the following morning in a hospital—but not the same hospital that I was sedated in the night before.

"Good morning Miss DiMahco," the nurse greeted me when she noticed I was awake, "I was just going to wake you up for meds,"

You've got to be kidding me, I thought to myself. I knew that accent anywhere—'DiMarco' to 'DiMahco'. I was home. I was in Boston.

"Where am I?" I asked, pretending to sound drowsy so I could figure out which hospital I was in.

"You're at Beth Israel—in Boston," she answered.

"Oh wow," I responded. Beth Israel Deaconess in Boston—a well renowned hospital in the area—along with the many other hospitals. I knew I was in a good place, but not in the city I wanted to be in. That was something I never thought I'd feel: not wanting to be in Boston. I could only imagine what the Joker would do once he found out I wasn't even in the state of Illinois anymore. I was sure he'd burn the entire state to the ground. Batman undoubtedly set himself up for a battle—using me as the bait to lure the Joker. The Joker would surely blame Batman for my disappearance, and when he figured it out, he would challenge Batman to their fiercest battle yet.

My questions flew through my brain: would the Joker come for me when he realized where I was now located? Now that I was home, where would I live? Would I have to go back home and live with my mother? Should I go back to Gotham against Batman's wishes and fight him myself to show the Joker that I was still on his side? Should I just get a job here and forget the crazy life I lived in Gotham City for the short amount of time I was there? What of Bruce Wayne, my ex-employer? Would he take me back if I went back to Gotham?

My head spun as the questions kept whirling through my mind. Maybe I felt like I was spinning because of the pain medication. The oxycodon was definitely just administered to me and I was definitely feeling it. Damn it! I hate those pain meds!

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A couple of days later, I was on the phone with my mother. She urged me to come home, as Italian mothers often do. She told me she knew I'd be coming home soon from Gotham anyway and that I belonged home in Boston and not so far away in some place like Gotham. All I could do was shake my head knowing that this was all contrary to what she'd told me what I informed her of my job position with Bruce Wayne. Oh well. There was nothing else I could do. I couldn't leave for Gotham now that my mother knew I was back in Boston—especially since she now knew I was in the hospital because of a gunshot wound. She'd never let me leave Boston again!

The next day, the surgeon gave me the O.K. to go home. I was discharged from the hospital and my mother picked me up that afternoon. She was overjoyed to see me and I was excited to see her too, but I couldn't get the Joker out of my head.

"Oh Giada, what's wrong?" my mother asked me once we got home. I was sitting at the kitchen table with my head resting on my hand.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. I'm fine," I replied.

"I know that's a lie. I'm your mother—I know when things are wrong," she replied as she sat next to me.

"I was just in the hospital, mom! You can't expect me to be all happy," I said with a small chuckle.

"I know that, but something just doesn't seem right with you—ever since we talked on the phone. You just seem…different," she replied.

"Well, I'm sad to have left Gotham. It wasn't something I chose for myself," I stated truthfully, avoiding all things alluding to the Joker and Batman making me leave.

"Well you were shot! I'd hope that after something like that you'd leave eventually!" my mother exclaimed.

"Yeah,"

"And all of those Joker killings! I'm telling you Giada, that city is a mess. It's best you got out while you could," my mother stated, "I was worried sick when the psychopath threatened to blow up those ferry boats with all of those innocent people," My heart jumped. She had heard of the Joker. Oh lord.

"Yeah, me too," I lied, trying to avoid that conversation.

"Oh Giada, I haven't seen you act like this since…since…Joey Ciarlone broke up with you! You're not in love are you?" she asked. Fuck it! She knows everything! She's the Joker too! What is it with these people knowing me better than I know myself?!

"Well, there was this guy in Gotham," I answered truthfully.

"Were you dating?" she asked.

"I don't know—I guess maybe. But I was really into him and I was never really quite sure about how he felt for me. Well, in any case, he didn't know I was flown back here and I'm just wondering where he is and if he even knows I'm gone,"

"Well, can you call him?"

I hadn't thought of that—I could call the Joker. No I couldn't. He didn't have a phone in his apartment and I wasn't sure of the cell phone he carried around with him. I had no way of contacting him.

"Well, listen with your heart, Giada. It will never steer your wrong," my mother said finally as she rubbed my back and then left the room.

"Sometimes I fear it already has," I said softly to myself.