XXIV - An Alcoholic Walks into a Bar
""I was not a lovable child, and I'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. Draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs." - Gillian Flynn, Dark Places
•••
Bullock's office was silent as he, Jim and Lucius watched the security video footage play over again for the third time.
"I don't understand." Jim breathed out. Arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the black and white footage.
The picture was grainy with horizontal lines running through the image on the screen; but still clear enough for them to see what happened.
Picking the remote up from the edge of the acting captain's desk, Jim pressed rewind and stepped closer to the TV Lucius had wheeled into the office to show the them footage.
"Right there-" Jim spoke aloud, but he wasn't talking to anyone in the room, "Something happened right there…"
Bullock and Lucius watched the pixels on the screen in the image of Jerome removing the handcuffs from Bird.
They could see him hand her something in a bag, they assumed was his severed face, and then Bird walked over and got into the van with Jerome and Dwight.
Jim started to rewind the footage again but Bullock stopped him, "Sorry buddy, it doesn't matter how many times you watch the movie -the ending isn't going to change."
Dropping the remote back to the desk, Jim let out a sigh.
Like every bit of air had been squeezed from his lungs. Frame shrinking down by at least an inch.
It didn't make sense.
According to Lee, Jerome had taken Bird hostage at gun point.
He'd kept a weapon on her up to the very moment he'd released the cuffs.
Why?
Why would she willingly walk away with him?
Jim closed his eyes, massaged his forehead with his index and middle fingers.
It felt like his skull could crack open at any moment.
Scalding lava behind bone ready to seep out.
"I don't like it either." Bullock sympathized, "But we need to face the facts here. Bird's gone to the dark side."
When Jim shot him a look intense enough it could have turned him to ash, Bullock held his arms out to the sides, "Hey, I said I don't like it either."
"We don't have the facts." Jim argued, pointing towards the TV, "We have no idea what happened there."
"I'm just saying. He was unarmed… if she wanted to, she could have taken him." Bullock reasoned.
"That may be…" Lucius cautiously said, "But it does seem very premature to assume she left with Jerome entirely of her own free will."
Jim nodded in agreement and Bullock bit down on the inside of his cheek.
He'd known Bird for years and his opinion of her had changed hundreds of times over that stretch of time.
He'd seen her as a victim and a criminal. Broken -and other times ruthless.
Her actions were almost always self-serving, but to a few her loyalty was absolute and she'd lay her life down for them without a second thought.
There were times he'd viewed her as… not necessarily a friend, but an ally.
Stranger even, were the times he'd felt protective over her.
And he hadn't forgotten she'd been his savior in a few life or death situations.
But he couldn't let that cloud his judgement, not when he was acting captain and had an entire police force he was in charge of keeping safe.
The one thing there was no doubt about was that Bird was lethal.
•••
Dwight cringed from the sound as Jerome started to staple his own face back on.
Another squish of the flesh being pushed together, the crunch of the staple gun, which was surely causing metal to scrap against bone -and the noises Jerome kept making with each new staple added in an attempt to reattach his face.
A mostly painful sound?
Dwight couldn't tell for sure, but the other thing he was very aware of was Bird moving closer to him.
Taking advantage of Jerome being distracted, she moved in.
"Hello."
Bird smiled at him.
Dwight stood in place side-eyeing her, as he nervously greeted, "Hi…Bird…"
She glanced over at Jerome who had his back to them now, spinning around as he continued the excruciating process of putting his face back on his body.
"Do you have a phone on you?" She questioned.
"No…" He answered, swallowing hard as she stepped even closer, "The police took it."
When he refused to fully look at her and kept his body angled towards the direction where Jerome was, Bird stepped in his way to block his view.
"So what's next?" Her brows raised at just how nervous he was and she found herself wondering how he ended up being the leader of the cult, "Is your group planning on going after anyone else in particular?"
"I, uh…" He shifted on his feet. Another cringe with a loud crack of a staple that sent Jerome doubling over in pain, "I don't know what you're-"
"Really?" Bird laughed, "This morning you sent two of your second rate men to try and kidnap me."
"Sorry." Dwight shifted again. His eyes darting around. Very rodent like.
"You should be." Bird still had a smile on her face but it was one of the most unfriendly expressions he'd ever encountered, "It was insulting. You really thought they'd get the best of me?"
"You're dead, Dwight." Bird stated with a flippant single shoulder shrug, "Jerome told me so on the way to the news station. Think about it-" She breathed, "I'm your best chance at making it out of here alive. Jerome likes me -and you're nothing to him."
Her voice lowered, "One more chance to be honest. Who else was the cult planning on going after?"
Dwight looked past Bird to where Jerome was.
It was a mistake cutting off his face. I
n fact, it was near instant regret.
But at the time he didn't think the resurrection had worked and he'd promised everyone they'd see Jerome's face in person.
"Not so much individual people." Dwight admitted, "More like locations… City Hall… GCPD…"
"What about Bruce Wayne?" She pushed.
"No-"
"If you're lying to me-" She started to threaten, but he cut her off with a whisper-yell, "We all had different jobs. Mine was to bring Jerome back. I don't know if they're going after your brother."
"Hey!" Jerome yelled, startling them both, "What are you crazy kids whispering about?"
Before either of them could answer, Jerome swished his hand through the air.
An eraser wiping a chalkboard clean.
"How does it look?" Jerome questioned, turning his head slowly from side-to-side.
"Good…" Dwight sounded like the breath he was letting out was painful, prickling his airways. Thorns lodging into tissue. "Good… looks… good."
Jerome's demeanor grew more serious as she stepped up closer to the man who'd severed his face and asked, "You wouldn't lie to me, right? Dwight?"
"No." He laughed, "It looks really good."
A desperate sound from a dead man walking.
"Bird?" Jerome jerked his head to the side to look at her.
"It doesn't look good." She flatly admitted.
Motioning between them she added, "Between you're inability to cut in straight lines and you're shoddy stapling… your face isn't exactly on straight."
"Ha!" Jerome doubled forward with a laugh that hit him out of nowhere before doing his best to raise his brows and questioning, "But I'm making it work, right?"
"Eh." Bird played along, "I guess I've seen worse."
A gravely laugh trailed in the air behind him as Jerome walked away from where they were standing and started to pick up a metal chair off the floor of the power plant.
Bird rubbed her hands over her face.
She hadn't gotten much out of Dwight, other than they were going to attack the police station and she was no closer to knowing if they were going after Bruce.
Without a phone or any other means of contacting the outside world, all she could do was hope that both Jim and Bruce were safe -and play along with Jerome's games for a while longer.
After all, if he was tied up in her than maybe he wouldn't want to go after her little brother.
Dwight shifted his stance again, growing even more uncomfortable the the second.
He wasn't sure what Bird was up to, but he didn't trust she'd actually look out for him.
She was clearly working her own angle.
"You're not mad are you?" He finally asked.
"What could I possibly be mad about?" Jerome questioned as he walked back over towards him.
"The whole… cutting off your face…"
"Ah!" Jerome glanced up at the ceiling with a rather thoughtful expression, "No, buddy, you brought me back from the dead."
He picked up the heavy news camera they'd lugged into the building with them and shoved it into Dwight's arms, knocking the wind right out of him.
"What's a cut off face between friends?" Jerome slapped him on the shoulder.
"I guess that's right." Dwight agreed.
Starting to feel a bit of the dread fade.
"You guessed right." Jerome mumbled under his breath as he stared down at the cables that could be attached to the camera and wondered how it would need set up to broadcast live to all of Gotham City.
Noticing a grenade that had ended up the floor, Jerome picked it up and dropped it rather carelessly on the top of a metal rolling cart they'd used to bring the explosives into the building.
"Uh…" Dwight stammered, "What are we doing?"
"You'll see." Jerome replied with a laugh as he nodded for Dwight to follow him with the camera and yelled over his shoulder to Bird, "Hey gorgeous, bring that cart."
Bird did as she was told and followed along behind them as she dragged the metal cart with her.
She wasn't entirely sure of Jerome's plan either, but it appeared to be heading in the way of a city wide blackout if they ignited the dynamite inside of the power plant.
•••
"Does that look right?" Jerome asked Bird as he attached another cable to the back of the news camera.
"How am I supposed to know?" Bird tossed her arms out to the side.
"You were just crying in the car about some TV interview gone wrong-"
"I wasn't crying." Bird asserted, eyes narrowed, "And I'm used to being in front of the camera; not behind it."
Jerome stood up and eyed her.
Smiling with a wink as he agreed, "In front of it is exactly where you should be."
Dwight looked between them as he continued to duct tape sticks of dynamite together like he'd been instructed to do.
Deciding the camera was probably hooked up as well as it was going to be, Jerome instructed Dwight to take a seat in the chair he'd positioned in front of the camera.
He so without protest -until Jerome started to tape the attached dynamite sticks to Dwight's chest.
It was then that all loyalty and admiration he'd held for his idol gave way to sheer panic.
Bird had been right; Jerome never planned on letting him live.
A brief struggle ensued between them before everything went black for Dwight.
With a huff of air, Jerome looked up to see Bird drop a piece of metal pipping to the floor.
It took his mind a few seconds to catch up and it wasn't until he saw the dark blood starting to roll down the side of the other man's face that he realized Bird had whacked Dwight in the head.
Jerome tilted his head back, bared his throat as he laughed.
The sound roaring out of him like a separate entity that filled up every open space around them; taking on a life of it's own.
Inescapable.
"I'm impressed." Jerome finally spoke, "Surprised -but impressed."
"He tried to have me kidnapped." Bird's forehead creased in left over anger from that morning, "…And the guys he sent after me were amateurs."
"That's just insulting." Jerome agreed; his tone of voice showed it was a compliment.
"That's what I said!" She nodded.
"Come on." Jerome motioned for her to help him get Dwight up off the floor and into the chair.
With a groan as they lifted his dead weight from the floor, Bird said through gritted teeth, "I'd be more help if you'd let me in whatever it is your planning."
Leaning down, Jerome picked up the officer's cap that had been knocked off his head in the stuggle with Dwight and then placed it atop the other man's head.
"We're gonna blow this place up." Jerome held his arms out to the side, like what he was saying earned a dramatic response, "Sky high!"
But Bird just stared back at him, blinked a few times and then questioned, "And then?"
"You'll see." He smiled as wide as his stretched out and patched on flesh would allow and admitted, "I don't trust you."
"I just helped you-" She pointed to Dwight's unconscious body as a reminder.
"Yeah." Jerome glanced up from where he was busy trying to tape the makeshift explosive vest to Dwight's body, "Thanks for that-"
He didn't get to finish his sentence, Bird cut him off, the annoyance she felt shone though in both her tone of her voice and the scowl on her face.
She might as well have stomped her foot down in a childlike protest as she pointed out, "I could have just as easily have knocked you out too -I've had multiple opportunities to kill you even and-"
Clearly, she was used to getting her way.
"Which means…." Jerome's voice was raspy, his head cocked to the side, "Either you're not as immune to my charms are you pretend to be -or you're plotting something too."
She opened her mouth to argue but failed to have anything at the ready.
"Ha…ha…ha…" He drew out the laugh one syllable at a time.
"You held me hostage at gun point." Bird tried to recover, "Not like I saw that coming, considering you've been dead… what plan could I have?"
He didn't answer.
In truth, he had no idea what she was planning -but then again he wasn't sure of his own plans at this point.
All he really knew was that after the power was cut to the city, he needed to find his way to the carnival Dwight had told them about in the car ride to the power plant.
After all, how could he miss a celebration thrown in his honor?
"Come on, sunshine." He walked up and booped Bird on the nose with his finger, "Be a doll and grab that camera for me. We're about to go live!"
•••
Dropping his hat on the desk, Bullock leaned back as far as the chair would allow and blew out a heavy sigh as he watched Jim play the footage back again for what felt like the millionth time.
"Look, Jim-"
He started.
"Don't." Jim didn't even turn back around to look at him, "Just don't. She didn't go willingly, okay?"
"We watching the same thing here?" Bullock asked, "Look-"
He started again.
"No, you look." Jim paused the video and finally turned back to face him, "I know Bird, okay? I know her! And she was under some of duress or… I don't know."
Another flare of rage shot through him -or maybe it was fear; the longer Bird was missing the more the two emotions melded together.
Either way it came out as red hot anger when he took a few steps towards the desk and said, "She's saved your life more than once, remember?"
Bullock didn't get a chance to respond before Jim demanded to know, "Why are you so quick to turn on her now?"
"You know her in different ways than I do." Bullock held his hands up n surrender, "Sure. I'll give ya that. But I've known her longer. Hell, I remember once as a teenager she broke her own hand to slip out handcuffs to keep from getting arrested!"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Jim yelled.
Arms tossed to the sides is exasperation.
Bullock motioned to the TV set, silently asking if they were watching the same video or not.
She had time to get away.
She could have probably gotten out of those cuffs if she'd wanted to.
"That it doesn't add up, Jim." Bullock rose to his feet, "You're not the only one wracking your brain here trying to figure this out. And yeah, I may not know her the same way you do… but buddy, come on. You've told me how many times that she's not been the same since Mario?"
"Didn't want to bring it up!" Bullock loudly defended before Jim could respond, "But no one knows where her head is at right now. We still don't know what she said or did to make Falcone leave town! And I'm not convinced she's playing a full deck half the time, if you know what I mean."
He spun a finger out to the side of his head for effect.
He given her the nickname crazy eyes for a reason, after all.
"She's not crazy." Jim firmly defended.
Bird had been one of the only people who'd stood by him through everything.
Even when he'd given up on himself, she hadn't -and he wasn't about to give up on her either.
"I know her." He repeated it like a mantra.
"And she's got some kind of plan or-"
"Okay." Bullock nodded trying to bring the angst of their conversation down a few notches, approach it from a logical standpoint since it was clear Jim was leading with emotion at this point.
"Jerome is certifiable, he just wants chaos. No point in trying to figure out his motivations." Bullock dismissed, "But if we can get inside of Bird's head then maybe we can figure out part of what's going on, yeah?"
Not having the strength in him to keep fighting with his friend over this, Jim blew out a breath and nodded.
"Good." Bullock was relieved, "So what drives Bird?"
"Loyalty." Jim responded without a second thought.
Bird was one of the most loyal people he'd ever known.
Some might it was to a fault. One that that nearly gotten her killed on more than one occasion.
"Sure." Bullock agreed, "Firstly, I'd have went with personal gain… but we can start with yours."
"You need to see this." Lucius said as he walked back into the captain's office at the GCPD and turned the TV set on.
Jim and Bullock exchanged looks as they waited for the screen to come to life.
"As has been reported; channel 9′s van was stolen this evening. We are now getting video from the thief, which we will play in hopes it leads to his apprehension." The female reporter's voice echoed and leaked out of the room into the rest of the building.
Luring more officers towards the noise as they started to gather outside of the door to catch the news footage.
The screen went blank and then flashed to a loading screen the news network used.
Audio came through before the visual feed.
"Testing. Testing." Jerome's voice sounded through the speaker.
"Call Channel 9 and tell them to stop broadcasting this now!" Bullock shouted.
Dwight's news broadcast earlier in the night already had the city spiraling.
Once his followers heard from Jerome directly it would be a complete game changer and he knew it.
The image on the screen finally loaded, the corner of Jerome's now deformed mouth came into view. The skin stretched and stapled back together from where Dwight had removed it earlier that day.
"Am I live?" Jerome's voice was scratchy, rough around the edges. Thanks to his manner of death. A knife through the throat will do that, "Am I on air? Can you hear me?"
He spoke into the camera that he was still standing way too close to. The screen only showing parts of his face in an unflattering close-up.
"Ah, screw it." He exclaimed before stepping back to widen the scope of view for the viewers he could only hope were able to see the live feed.
"Hi." He smiled, the muscle movement pulling on all the staples and stretching his skin from around his eyes, "Some of you may know that I died."
Jerome stepped back a little further allowing more of the room to come into focus for the audience, "Take it from me." He let out a heavy breath, "Death... is dull."
He paused with a thoughtful look before stepping to the side and looking over his shoulder with a wink, "Am I right, beautiful?"
"Holy..." Bullock's voice trailed off and his eyes cut from the TV screen over to where Jim was standing beside him.
Jim's mouth was open, like he needed to take a breath but the air had been sucked from the room. His arms that had been crossed over his chest dropped down at his sides.
With a view of the room they could now see who Jerome had been talking too; a face visible behind his shoulder -they could see Bird.
No weapon on her.
No restraints.
"He must be keeping her there by force?" Lucius offered to the room.
Jim didn't say anything, he couldn't.
But it was nice to know someone else was in Bird's corner with him.
You see any chains?
Bullock wanted to ask, but he held his silence.
Jerome's voice faded into the background for Jim as he stared at Bird.
Trying to read the expression on her face or her body language. Any sign or signal she might give.
The picture was grainy, sepia tones washed out most of her features from the bad lighting of the room they were in.
Jerome walked around in the camera frame, but Bird stood in place.
Her eyes kept darting over to where Dwight was just starting to wake up with panic setting in that he'd bitten off way more than he'd be able to chew.
The realization that Bird was right, that Jerome wouldn't ever forgive him for cutting off his face.
That he was going to die that night.
Using a magicians trick, Jerome acted liked he pulled a lighter from behind Dwight's ear.
"Tonight, Gotham, in the darkness there are no rules. Tonight, Gotham, do want you want." Jerome said as he flipped the top of the metal lighter back and the flame danced to life.
With his free hand he picked up the extra long wick to the explosives he'd rigged and moved closer to the camera as he spoke, "Kill who you want… and when morning comes, you too shall be reborn!"
He lit the wick and dropped it to the ground with a laugh.
The sound grew more manic as he spun back and let the motions of the laugh take over his entire body.
Getting a wider shot of the room with Jerome's descent, Jim pulled his eyes away from Bird and tried to focus on the surroundings of the room,
Look for any signs to point to where they were.
Any identifying information.
He leaned in squinted to read a label on the far wall.
"The power plant across the river!" Jim realized as he turned and started for the door.
"You'll never make it in time. Go to the roof!" Bullock yelled after him, "Let me call for the chopper!"
Utilizing the few seconds she had while Jerome was distracted and figuring he'd take the liberty of taunting Dwight too before they had to make a run for it.
Bird moved in, her face taking up nearly the entire screen, eyes moving back and forth -searching.
Like if she looked in the lens deep enough she'd find something lost.
There was so much she wanted to say, she wanted to warn Bruce, but that point would be moot.
If the cult hadn't grabbed her little brother already then she didn't want to give them any ideas.
She didn't have much to go on, Dwight hadn't exactly been forthcoming with information and Jerome hadn't filled her in on their itinerary for the evening.
But there was one person she could warn, Dwight had told her the cult had been planning on attacking the police station, she could only imagine how intensified that would be now that the city saw Jerome was alive.
"Jim." She breathed in a shaky voice that reached his ears just as he'd gotten to the doorway.
He stopped so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet.
He turned around to see her move closer to the camera, her face was blurry from the close up that was only getting from her nose up.
"Jim!" Bird repeated, this time more urgency in her voice, "They're going to hit the GCPD. Be careful. They're coming for-"
Her eyes widened, words suddenly muffled as Jerome clasped a hand over her mouth and started to pull her away from the camera.
"We need a chopper to go, now!" Bullock yelled into the phone as Jim ran from the room.
He took the stairs to the roof access two at a time; heart racing wildly in his chest as he threw the door open and burst out onto the roof.
Within a mere matter of seconds the explosion from across the river shook the entire city.
Plumes of flames and smoke soared up into the air.
Jim's mind hadn't even fully processed the gravity of what he'd just seen when all of the lights started to go out.
A rolling blackout starting in the east. Section by section. Block by block the city life gave way to total darkness.
With the moon tucked away behind the clouds the only visible lights were from the cars still on the road and the burning building of the electrical plant.
"Oh my god…"
He finally exhaled.
•••
Bird moved her jaw, trying to ease the pressure her ears had taken from the explosion.
The only thing she could hear above the ringing was Jerome's cheers of excitement.
Hooting and hollering like a villain escaping on horseback in the Wild West.
Bird's eyes focused on the side-view mirror of the car they'd escaped the blast in; the flames growing smaller but no less brighter in the blackout as the drove further away.
She'd scrunched down in the passenger seat when the building went up.
The reverberation of the blast against the car felt like they'd been rear-ended by an 18 wheeler; like the road had turned to waves under the rolling tires.
The ringing in her ears slowly lessened but the pressure in the cab still felt off; dizzying.
She sat up further in her seat, hand smacking blindly against the door until she grasped the hand crank for the window and rolled it down to get some air.
The stench of electrical fire stung the inside of her nostrils; burrowed into the lining of her lungs.
Her body jerked forward with a violent coughing fit. Eyes watered. Her stomach jumped and she swallowed down bile in the back of her throat.
As her vision started to clear, she felt like she was waking up from one nightmare to find herself still locked in another.
It had only been several minutes since Jerome's message had been broadcast and already the city was spiraling into chaos.
People had taken to the streets brandishing weapons. Lighting cars on fire. Looting from storefronts.
"Where are we going?" She asked. Her voice raspy.
Swerving the car they were in to avoid a makeshift bonfire pile that was growing in the middle of the road, Jerome looked over at Bird.
She looked dazed. Like she'd been hit over the head with a baseball bat.
"Now, why would I tell you that?" He paused.
"Bad, bad girl." He accused in a teasing voice.
It was clear now she'd been trying to get information to apparently pass on to the GCPD.
"Why'd you do that?" He pushed. Genuine curiosity.
Bird had made it very clear she didn't like cops. So why was she warning the police that the station was a target?
Then it hit him with impact of an air conditioner falling from a window several stories up.
She didn't warn the police force in general.
No, she only cared enough to warn a single person.
"I'll be damned!" He exclaimed with a loud laugh, "You and Jimbo, huh?"
Bird didn't say anything. Just crossed her arms and sank back into the seat further.
"I don't know why I'm so surprised." He continued to talk out loud, mostly to himself about how he remembered how protective Jim got over her in the past. Even when he'd used her to elicit a confession from him for murder.
Jerome remembered Bird trying to keep it a secret that Jim had been visiting her in Arkham too.
Yeah, he let out a little snort, Jim had showed it hand early on when it came to Bird.
"Wait a minute…" Jerome's voice trailed off. He shook his head, coming back to life was still slowing his ability to process thoughts as fast he could have pre-being-stabbed-in-the-neck.
"Lee said Jim killed her husband on their wedding night… you said Jim killed your brother…"
Bird stared forward, refusing to look over and give him any sort of reaction.
"Wow!" He yelled, slapping a hand down on the dash of the car, "You're all just keeping it in the family, huh?"
Another laugh roared out of him with such force it shook the car.
"I told you it was complicated."
Her voice was so quiet he couldn't hear her.
Spotting an all night corner store with a sign advertising a substantial amount of flavors for slushy drinks, Jerome swerved the car over onto the sidewalk and stomped on the breaks.
This time, with both hands free, Bird was at least able to brace for the impact.
"Sorry." Jerome tossed a half-hearted look her way before pointing to his head and reasoning, "Some things are still a bit rusty post-thaw."
He got out of the car and Bird hesitated before she also stepped out into the cool night air.
The corner store had already been looted.
Windows shattered. The small selection of more expensive items, like electronics were cleared out.
Even the monitors that had been hooked up for the security system were gone -wires left dangling from the corner mount where they sat.
An entire shelving unit of chips and other on the go snacks was knocked over.
Doors to the cooler section where the alcohol would have been were standing wide open; the section was empty.
A few feet inside of the doors a man's body lay motionless on the floor; face down in a puddle of his own blood.
Glancing around the now otherwise empty store, Bird stepped over the man's legs and watched as Jerome headed straight for the wall of slushy machines and surveyed the options.
"Hey." Jerome called over his shoulder, "What flavor are you thinking?"
Bird blinked and looked around the store again.
She'd always felt like she handled crazy well.
The city had already started to fall into utter chaos; the scene she was standing in felt surreal.
Like if she just reached out her hand far enough she could grasp onto a curtain to pull back; show this hadn't been real.
Her ability to adapt to any situation was something she'd prided herself off for as long as she could remember.
A trait that she was sure had helped keep her alive more than once.
But her brain felt foggy; motions suspended in a sticky syrup.
She thought about her last conversation with Alfred, how he'd expressed concern over the way she was handling, or in his words -not handling Mario's death.
How Alfred had said she wasn't acting like herself.
What a laughable sentiment that had been, she'd thought, along with wondering how exactly she was supposed to be acting in the aftermath.
Even though she hadn't known him long, she felt a connection with Mario. One she'd tried so hard to resist and fight.
She had been surprised with how hard his death hit her.
But it wasn't just losing a brother.
It was the fact that Jim had been the one who killed him.
That while she could logically reason and understand what had happened -on a deeper level she couldn't come to terms with it.
Then she'd lost Falcone too; he was still breathing, but she was well aware that the way they'd severed ties when she chose Jim's side, there was no coming back from that.
He was gone from her life for good.
Now she'd cut ties with her best friend as well, though Oswald hadn't seemed to grasp how serious she'd been.
Her eyes drifted to a newspaper display by the checkout counter; the Wayne Enterprise name gracing an article on the front page.
Bird didn't bother to see what the article was about, but it did make her think of her parents.
And of the nature vs nurture.
So often since learning who her birth parents were, she'd wondered how different she'd have turned out if it had been Falcone who raised her instead of the Waynes.
There was a darkness inside of her, one she was sure she'd been born with. Thomas and Martha Wayne had tried to drown that darkness out with love and light.
But despite their efforts, the shadow remained.
Even in the happiest of times, the lightest of moods - the monster was always there.
Fish had told her once that she'd have to stop bowing to both the sinner and the saint inside of her; that trying to play with both would get her killed.
Bird had felt that too. Felt too much if she was being honest.
There was a gnawing feeling in the back of her mind. The past nipping at her heels.
Reminding her of a time when she wouldn't have cared about the city falling apart like it currently was.
Of a time when she'd have even been amused -when she was amused by Jerome's antics.
She'd told herself she was there to head off any attack that could be brought on her brother.
That being on the inside would let her foil any plans to bring harm to Bruce; to stop any plans already set in motion.
It was true.
But she was also walking along the edge of a cliff she could tumble off of at any moment.
Tempting fate.
An alcoholic walking into a bar.
Self-sabotage was the term her parents loved to throw around in arguments with her.
For every ten steps she took forward; she slid back a few more.
How close could she walk teetering the edge of the darkness without letting herself get swallowed up in it?
"HA!"
Jerome's snort of a laugh pulled her from her thoughts.
Bird looked over to see Jerome was looking at a paper with a picture of Oswald on it, an article about Gotham's Mayor.
With a loud slurp from the large slushy Jerome had fixed; he laughed again.
What a strange time he'd woken up in.
He had a cult following.
A well known criminal had been voted in as Mayor of the city.
Bird was working in community outreach.
"Good for you!" He held the cup up in a toast, downed another icy drink, "You fooled everyone."
"What?"
Her face scrunched.
Eyes wandered to the back of the store to see the row of slushy machines all had their levers pulled down, a rainbow sea of icy flavored drinks spilling down the counter and onto the floor.
"Oh…" He breathed head tilting to the side, "Still trying to fool yourself too?"
The comment earned an eye roll from Bird, who knew exactly what he was referring to.
Their time in Arkham together. Her repeated attempts and insistence that she wasn't a bad person.
That she was no longer a killer.
No longer a monster.
••• Flashback •••
Jerome picked up a red marker from the metal table and got to work scribbling on the white page in front of him.
When the color wasn't dark enough to resemble blood, he took to stabbing the blunt tip into the paper.
Over and over. Forcing it to bleed out and soak into the grain.
When he heard a sigh across the table from him, he looked up to see Bird staring at him from under her brows,
"What?" He asked.
She didn't respond. Just got back to her own drawing.
It was art therapy day at Arkham, which this week was the orderlies passing out blank white papers and dumping boxes of colorful, nontoxic magic markers out for the inmates to share,
Bird had quickly snapped up the various purple shades of markers for herself and was now hard at work on a diagonal gradient of colors.
Light purple starting at the bottom left corner graduating up to the darkest purple she could find in the upper right corner.
Jerome watched her intently as she continued the coloring pattern.
Purple makers lined up in a neatly to the side in the order she needed them to finish her page.
Messy, dark brunette waves obscuring her face from him as she focused on making the lines as straight as possible.
To the other side of where she sat, there were three small bottles of water lined up perfectly straight.
Ever since she'd started coming out to be more with the general population of the asylum, he'd gotten more chances to observe her odd behaviors.
She was always lining things up in neat rows; nearly always in sets of three.
He'd moved an apple she had one day when she wasn't looking and it didn't even take her a whole second to notice the disturbance and correct it.
He'd also noticed her affinity for shiny things -and a possible obsession with glitter.
Leaning his head down he roughly ran his hands through his hair, fingers scraping at his scalp and watched as sparkly flecks fell to the dull silver table surface.
Jerome had suspected there were still traces left behind from when he'd made the mistake of sitting beside her days before when they let them have glitter for another art project day.
Jerome leaned his head down trying to see her face and catch her eye, but she didn't look up.
He knew that she knew he was watching her though. She always knew when she was being watched.
Bored with her ignoring him, Jerome picked up another marker and drew another crude stick figure on his paper.
A large knife protruding from the circle of a head and then got back to work stabbing the red marker into the page for a bloody looking effect,
Hearing a loud laugh, he looked over to see Barbara Kean had the other end of the table amused with another one of her stories.
Since she'd been admitted, she'd became the center of Richard Sionis' attention.
Something Bird was pleased with.
She was really sick of being told to brush her hair and try to look more presentable since by that man.
But she still didn't stray far from Sionis' table.
Being in his group of people she got special privileges other inmates didn't -and protection from both other inmates and staff.
Something she probably could have bought for herself, but she was being good.
Playing by the rules and trying to keep her head down as much as possible.
Her lawyer kept assuring her it was only a matter of time before they got the ruling reversed and she would be free of that place.
Falling into boredom quickly again, Jerome started to reach a hand out to take one of the bottles of water Bird had collected.
With lightening fast speed she smacked his hand away before he got the chance.
With a hiss of pain he jerked his hand back, holding onto his reddened skin as he laughed, "How'd you do that? You weren't even looking."
"Having been attacked and left for dead in ally as a teenager makes a girl overly aware of her surroundings." Bird said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Pushing the cap onto the marker she'd last used, she finally looked up at him.
"Why are you trying to steal from me?"
"Well…" He breathed, dramatically tapping his chin with a finger as if he were deep in thought, "I guess growing up with a mother who neglected and beat the crap out of me… if I wanted anything for myself I had to steal it."
Bird picked up another marker but he didn't let up while he had her attention.
"Hey." He nodded towards the water bottles, "Why are you always lining things up like that?"
"Old habit." Bird offered with a half-shrug, "I spent the first years of my life in orphanages and foster homes. I didn't have anything of my own, so when I got a hold of something I liked… I'd line them up so I'd know if anything was missing or messed with."
"Ah!" He smiled wide, like she was telling a happy story and not a sad one, "Did they starve you? Is that why you're always sneaking food back to your room?"
Bird's eyes narrowed at him for pointing out another one of her habits that had returned from being under the stress of getting locked up in Arkham for a crime she didn't commit.
Little tics she thought she'd kicked a while back that just kept rearing their little heads now.
"Yes, actually." Her jaw tensed, "They starved all of us. Locks on the fridge and the cabinets and-"
"One time, I broke into the chuck wagon at the circus to steal a cookie." He paused at the memory, "A snickerdoodle."
Leaning in over the table some he continued, "My uncle caught me. Boiled my hand in a pot of chicken stock."
He spoke just as evenly as Bird when she discussed her own childhood traumas.
"Are we playing of a game of who's had it worse?"
Her head cocked to the side.
Jerome laughed. Looked down at his drawing and shook his head.
More red marker spots seeped into the page as he absentmindedly stabbed the paper again and again.
"Nah." He shook his head, "If I ever get out of here, I'm going to find him and kill him though. Boil him alive. Like a lobster."
He laughed
Bird didn't acknowledge the comment.
She was trying to be good and not encourage murder.
She was reformed after all, nonviolent and ready to move on to a normal life with Harvey Dent.
So, she didn't say it out loud; but she agreed it sounded like his uncle had it coming.
Jerome opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw Bird's shoulders tense up and she looked like she wanted to shrink down under the table out of view.
A turtle shrinking back into it's shell away from danger.
He started to ask what was wrong with her, but he got the answer when one of the guards walked by their table.
Pausing to stand a little too close to Bird as he leaned over the table and eyed her paper.
She didn't budge just held perfectly still until he finally walked away.
Once he was away from their table.
Bird picked up her purple shaded paper, the markers she'd collected and her bottles of water and silently walked over to sit down at the other end of the table, closer to where Richard Sionis was.
There it was, Jerome thought as he watched the guard continue to make his rounds around the room.
The main reason Bird had finally caved and joined them.
Drawing another stick figure on his own paper. Jerome hummed to himself as he looked from the guard to the replica on the paper he'd just drawn.
Picked up the red marker once again and let the crimson color bleed onto the page right over the guards face.
•••
A/N - Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry it's been so long since my last update.
This year has really been some shit, huh?
Anyways, I want to thank all of you who reached out to me either in reviews, messages or on my Tumblr to show there is still an interest in Bird's story!
I haven't abandoned this series by any means, just hella struggling to stay inspired and motivated.
I really hope you all liked the chapter. I am already working on chapter 25, so hopefully it will be up soon.
Thank you to: Shadow knight1121, xxXWolfsLullabyXxx, The-October-Revier, lette4127, Rasiel Hasu, LenoreMoreLenore, Adela, SmellYourScentForMiles, Littledot, Nott01 and to the Guests who reviewed chapter 23!
You all really have no idea how much getting feedback encourages me to keep going with this.
xx