Honey, I laugh when it sinks in
A pillar I am of pride
Scarcely can speak for my thinking
What you'd do to me tonight
Now that the evening is slowing
Now that the end is in sight
Honey, it's easier knowing
What you'd do to me tonight
Dinner and Diatribes / / Hozier
The air at the dinner table was thick, with the annoyance I had for the man sitting across from me at the table, and he seemed determined to ignore it.
I continued to glare at him, ignoring the meal beneath me, despite my mouth watering at the smell. Suddenly, my stomach growled loudly, and Crane looked up at me, and his eyebrow raised.
I wasn't so confident in him not killing me that I didn't heed the warning, lifting my fork I dug into the plate of steak and potatoes, upset, but also thankful to be eating, finally.
"Harley, I do wish you would be reasonable," he sighed, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin and shaking his head. "I only want to help you, to make your life better."
"I want to go home, John."
"Stop saying that!" His arms swept the table, clearing the food and making a mess.
I crossed my arms and sat back, "Wonderful, John, wonderful." I shook my head and stood up. "Mind your goddamned temper when you speak to me." I pointed at him.
"Excuse me-"
"You're excused!" I shouted, "Goddamn it John, you're being ridiculous. You left me."
I stepped around the table, and shoved him, shoving my finger in his face.
"You were the one who said you didn't want me, You were the one who left the university so you wouldn't have to see my face anymore. You're the one who never called-" my voice broke against my will and my lip quivered.
"Fuck," I cursed, spinning on my heel, and covering my suddenly watering eyes with the heels of my palms.
"And I regretted it more every day since," he said, stepping closer. "Harley, I made a mistake, my heart never stopped beating for you," I felt his hands softly caress my forearms.
On instinct, I spun on my heels, and my hand came up to slap him before I recognized what I was doing.
His face whipped to the side when the slap connected with a resounding clap.
My eyes widened as I stepped back, when he looked back up there was anger in his eyes.
He took one step forward and I scrambled back, running for the bedroom, as I felt his hand grip my arm I spun and kicked him low in the legs, before ripping my arm out of his grip and running for the room.
only to be stopped short as his hand gripped my ankle, causing me to land flat on my face, leaving what I was sure would be bruises tomorrow. If we survive until then, moron.
I used my other foot to kick down, angling for his nose, and hitting it with a satisfying crack, causing him to release his grip on my leg.
I scrambled again down the hallway, this time making it into the room, slamming the door behind me, holding it closed, as I felt his shoulder slam against it.
One of his hits was harder than the others, throwing me off the door, which promptly swung open, knocking me off balance and into the floor, where Scarecrow straddled me, throwing my pushing hands off of him, pinning them down on either side of me.
Then he sat there on my chest, staring down at me, blood from his busted nose leaking down onto my face, both of us breathing heavily.
A switch in his eyes mirrored my own emotions, and suddenly his lips crashed down onto mine. I reciprocated, and while the logical part of my brain fought to regain control of my id and I gave into the lust that had been plaguing me from the moment I saw him standing in the hallway outside my apartment.
"This isn't me giving in-" I gasped breathlessly pulling away to breathe.
"What is it then?" He gasped back with a smirk.
"Saying goodbye," I whispered, leaning back in before he could voice the response already on his lips. A sound like he wanted to argue came from his throat but was silenced as my hands opened his belt and pants.
He pulled off my garish sweater dress and began kissing my chest, with no small amount of desperation, his tongue traced my scar, and his mouth continued to wander, until I could wait no longer, and my greedy hands found his sexy, lush hair and dragged him up on top of me, freeing his cock to fill me up like no one else ever has.
My head fell back, a guttural groan escaping as he moved his hips, my legs wrapping around him, taking his ear between my teeth, before whispering to him.
"Fuck me like you won't ever touch me again."
His movements became erratic, as though I would disappear from underneath him at any moment, hands firmly on my body, following every curse and contour he could find, as though he was memorizing every inch of me.
"I don't know if I can keep living without you now," He whispered, tears in his eyes.
"You have to, we both have to," I said, with a conviction in my voice that I was surprised to find I agreed with, and as I pulled him down to my mouth again, I realized he tasted like goodbye.
/ / / / /
"Scarecrow. Where is he?" The Batman asked the man, dangling from the edge of the building, as he screamed and begged for his life.
"Penthouse over in midtown last I heard, has some dame locked up, the old McCarlton Building, that's all I know, I Swear!"
The man, a career criminal who had run with Crane in the past, was left on the roof, restrained and waiting for the police, who had been informed of his whereabouts the moment the Bat found him.
He made his way to midtown, he became very nervous for what scene he would arrive to.
/ / / /
Meanwhile, Harley slept, bruises developing from her fall, blood from his nose and bites he had left decorating her body made her look a bit gruesome in the darkly lit room. She looked so small and delicate, wrapped in her nightgown and blankets, that it left him with no small amount of guilt for blemishing her pale skin.
Crane sat in the chair on the opposite side of the room, watching her sleep. This isn't the end. I can still fix this.
He sighed, lowering his head into his hands. Maybe I should leave her alone, she means what she says.
He nearly shook under the weight of the idea of walking away from her again.
We can wait for her, maybe in time...
Crane leaned back in the chair, eyes screwed shut.
To wait any longer sounded like torment, but at the same time, he knew at least in part that she was right.
They had both changed, there was something markedly different about her now, something so cold it burned. Her fire, her passion, her spirit was still there, burning blue but strong, behind this layer of separation she was keeping between herself and everyone else.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the next room, Crane heard "ITS THE BAT!" More than once.
He sighed. Shit. She was still sleeping, but he walked over, to wake her.
"Harley, Harley?" Her eyes opened suddenly, clear and ready.
"What's happening?" She whispered, matching his tone.
"The Batman is here, and going to enter this room at any moment. There is no escape for me." For now, Crane thought, already musing about his next escape.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, standing, and straightening her nightgown.
"Dear," He said with no amount of hesitation. "I'd rather not cause you any trouble with the law..."
Harley paused, taking in what he was saying, clearly understanding that even with the bruising, it wasn't convincing enough for a good kidnapping victim.
"Shit, this is gonna hurt, isn't it?" She winced. "Fuck," she sighed.
"Do what you have to, John."
His fist connected before she could understand it was coming towards her.
It bloodied her lip and nose, but it wasn't enough. "You hit like my mom, John. Put your fuckin' back into it." She smirked.
The second hit was much harder, knocking her off her feet, blacking her eye, and very possibly breaking her nose.
"AGAIN." She commanded, short of breath but not wanting any doubts.
"Fuck," Crane whimpered, before lifting her up into a kneeling position, and slamming another hit into her cheek, and then a kick to her torso, attempting to hold back so as to not seriously injure her, but also knowing that he needed to injure her enough that no one could suspect her of being a willing participant in this.
As his foot connected with her stomach, the Bat quite literally burst through the door, leaving shards of the thing around him on the floor.
A moment passed, He seemed almost horrified at the scene he walked into, the scantily clad woman, crying on the floor as Crane was obviously beating her senseless.
His fist connected with Crane's jaw, dropping him instantaneously.
Then he focused on the woman on the ground, bleeding, crying and in pain.
"Took you long enough," She smirked weakly, her voice breathless "I was starting to think you'd just let me die, and after I did all that work defending you..." She passed out.
Batman restrained the Scarecrow, before dropping a line to Gordon to let him know where to find what.
Then he lifted the young woman in his arms and carried her out of the apartment.
How could I ever think- Bruce nearly choked at the thought. I was so busy researching her that I let her get hurt.
Bruce climbed into the tumbler, calling the Christian Hospital in midtown, informing them to be ready for a kidnapping victim in a matter of minutes, then he took his time, carefully placing Harley's unconscious body across the passenger seat.
Then he called Alfred.
"Alfred, I need you to ready a room in the penthouse."
"Right away sir, are you expecting someone?"
"Not tonight, but once Harley is out of the Hospital she will need a place to stay, while her apartment is still considered a crime scene."
"Ah, yes, Master Bruce, I will prepare a room."
/ / / / /
When I opened my eyes, I was surprised, though not unpleasantly to find myself in the hospital. My left eye was nearly swollen shut, my nose was quite pained, and there was a sharp pain in my left side, where his shoe had connected, whenever I took too deep a breath the pain escalated,
An IV in my arm, with two bags of fluid attached, the room was empty, so I reached for the call button, waiting for a nurse, to see what had happened.
"Oh! You're awake!" The oddly bright-eyed nurse said, peeking into the room, "I had thought it was that tall handsome fellow who's been in to see you so much." She stepped into the room, an older woman, southern if I had to bet, with red hair and light blue scrubs decorated with Pooh Bear in various stages of enjoying a tub of Honey.
I froze. "Who exactly, do you mean?"
She seemed to realize what I was worried about and began working overtime to assure me that Crane was already safely tucked back into Arkham.
Crane. I was surprised to feel a note of finality to our meeting, as though the story for us had concluded, and I was free to live my life now. Crazy what closure can do for a girl.
"How bad is it?" I asked, and the Nurse winced. "I should really let the Doctor-"
"I am a doctor, and I've worked around enough nurses to know that you know better than he does."
She smirked and shrugged. "The Doctors are very busy people." In a way of defending them before reaching out and taking my hand, a look of kindness on the older woman's face.
"Bad. Not as bad as it could have been, but bad. He broke your nose, which we reset, and fractured your orbital bone, that's why there's so much swelling, your cheek and lip were split pretty badly, but we don't think there should be any scarring, and he cracked two ribs."
"Yes, I could tell the ribs as soon as I woke up,"
"I'll get you more pain medicine, you've been through enough, don't need no more trouble."
I smiled at her, feeling the bandage on my cheekbone rub uncomfortably against the injury beneath.
"I also want to warn you..." she paused.
"Yes?" I said when it seemed she didn't want to continue.
"We found evidence of... sexual trauma."
I took a breath and nodded. Immediately I began thinking of my father's execution, something that was always a good source of tears if I needed them quickly and without question.
"Yes- I- I believe I remember that part."
"The police will be coming back soon, Jim Gordan has been waiting specifically to speak to you. They want-"
"I don't want a rape kit performed on me," I said suddenly. Tears fell like rain as I looked into the woman's eyes. "I don't want anyone looking at me, I don't want anyone seeing... what difference does it make, he's already in Arkham?" I covered my face. "Please," I whispered. "Don't let them make me."
Her arm came around my shoulders and I felt tears hit my side as she held me. "Oh, honey, I won't. I'll throw the whole damn police force out of here, believe me, you are gonna be okay."
I almost felt bad lying to the woman, but I hadn't lied, exactly- just let her believe something that wasn't true- the lying would come later.
/ / / /
"I told you, I would let you talk to her, but I'm not gonna let you pressure that baby into doing anything she doesn't wanna do. Hasn't she been through enough of that?" The nurse said with a disgusted look at Gordon.
Something about the situation didn't feel right to him, even though Dr. Quinzel's story was perfectly reasonable. Crane had an inappropriate attraction to her in college that she kept quiet about it because she was frightened for her own prospects if she were to anger a man as powerful as him, and felt it was too late to come forward once his crimes broke. He had abducted her, to try to strong-arm her into a sexual relationship with him, and when she refused his luxury and asked to go home, he snapped.
All of this is completely reasonable, and the evidence is lined up with it. But it was missing something. A point in the pile that he hadn't seen yet. He didn't want to believe the woman was lying, her tearful story was very convincing, and the nurse had bought every word, hook, line, and sinker. But something about it made Gordon suspicious. He shook his head, thinking that maybe all the late nights were driving him crazy.
/ / / /
Waking up in this hospital was becoming annoying. Every time I opened my eyes new bouquets of flowers were placed around the room. Flowers from people I hadn't spoken to in years. From Sorority sisters, high school friends, news organizations, and the police. Everyone in the world wanted me to know they were thinking of me, and they wanted me to remember it by shoving a million floral smells directly under my nose less than 48 hours after a traumatic head injury.
Fucking assholes.
I sucked my teeth, releasing with a thunk, as I noticed the new bouquet of bright red roses, sitting front and center on the table by my bed. Even from where I lay, I could read the name.
-Bruce Wayne
"Jesus H Christ" I groaned, pushing the table full of flowers weakly away.
"So, roses were a bad choice, then?" A voice startled me, from the other side of the room.
I clasped a hand to my chest, Bruce Wayne himself sat in my hospital room.
"You've got some nerve-" I gasped. "Sneaking up on me after what happened!" I let out a weak laugh, leaning back. "Everyone else has been treating me like a wild animal. No eye contact, hands where I can see them, keeping their distance. It's like they think I'm gonna bite them." I laughed.
He smiled in a way that suggested he didn't want to. "Can't you take anything seriously, Harley?"
"I take plenty of stuff seriously, just not the stuff that counts," I reached for a pocket I didn't have in my hospital gown.
"Goddamn it," I grunted. "How do they expect me to deal with my PTSD without nicotine?"
"You know you can't smoke in the hospital."
"Yeah, Yeah," I said nodding and sitting up. "How much longer am I in for, warden?"
He scoffed. "You aren't in prison Harley,"
"Sure feels like it," I grumbled. "No cigarettes, no chocolate and everyone and my mother sent fucking flowers. Which is honestly fucking impressive because she ate a bullet years ago." I muttered, covering my eyes.
"I fucking hate flowers. The smell always gave me headaches. High school was hell, every single grease-faced loser with his first woody showed up at my mom's apartment with a handful of shitty wildflowers from the bodega around the corner, always smelling like shit, always making my fucking head pound. That's why Pam and I always did sleepovers at my place, too many fucking plants at her place."
Bruce laughed. "People sent flowers when my parents died, I asked Alfred to throw them away, as if I needed a new vase full of flowers on our tables reminding me about it. I mean, what I think it is, is that there must be some old wives tale about plants helping with healing, I mean, really what other explanation is there?"
"So why did you bring them?" I crooked a finger at the vase.
He seemed sheepish. "Uh- social pressures? Something something?"
"You're full of shit." I laughed. "God, Bruce, I haven't seen you in years. Why don't we ever hang out?" I snapped my fingers suddenly. "Oh! I remember! You went missing for more than half a decade, then when you showed back up, you never called!" I smiled at him. "Why is that, Brucie?"
He seemed to stumble over his words. "Honestly... I don't know." He shrugged. "I was so wasted for most of it I don't even remember." He gave me a winning smile, one I'm sure worked on most women.
My eyebrow quirked. "Fine, lie to me, keep your secrets." I sighed, finally. "God I gotta get out of here." I leaned back again, covering my eyes with my hands.
"I believe they want to release you today?"
"Really?" I sat up, swinging my legs off the bed, planting my feet.
"Whoa- !" His hands floated over my forearms. "I'm not sure if standing is a good idea yet."
I snorted, standing and walking to the restroom. "And don't look at my ass in this gown, Bruce!"
"I-" I didn't look back but knew he was blushing. "I would not do that."
"God, am I supposed to wear this out of here??" I said, realizing that my bloodied nightgown had been taken to evidence by the police.
"I had Alfred pack you some clothes to wear,"
"Your manservant?" I chuckled. "God you're fuckin' weird Bruce. Like, in a cool way, but still."
"Alfred is my Butler, but he's also a part of my family."
I snorted, "That's what all the rich pricks say."
I pulled a face, stepping out of the bathroom to face him. "Not saying that you're a rich prick, of course, I just-" I paused, collecting my thoughts. "Any chance you'll believe that remark wasn't me being a smart-ass but was actually leftover trauma from being abducted?"
"None." He smirked. "You forget I know you."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where are those clothes?"
"They may be a bit big, I didn't know your size and figured-"
"Thanks!" I grabbed the back, slipped back into the restroom, and closed the door.
The dress was long, around mid-calf, and black, with long sleeves and a high neck. Along with it was a pair of large black sunglasses, and a pair of black flats.
I slipped it all on, except the sunglasses, and slicked my hair back into a bun, before stepping out to see him.
"I look like the battered wife of a TV preacher," I said.
He choked on a laugh. "And I was going to say you look nice."
"With this shiner?" I pointed to my still-swollen eye. "I fuckin' doubt it." I slipped on the sunglasses. "So, which hotel do you recommend, and I swear to god if you name one you own it better come with a discount," I laughed.
"Well," he started, seeming hesitant. "About that."
AN: PLEASE REVIEW
