Adult-FanFiction.org : Comics

She's Not a Saint	By : AsylumWritings Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 489 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman/DC Comics, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
I stretched my arms over my head, yawning. It was the start of yet another long, boring day, and I was not excited for it. I got lost in my thoughts for a few minutes, wondering how to waste the next sixteen hours until I could sleep again. The sound of the lock on my door clicking open distracted me, and I turned to find Ed walking in. I clasped my hands behind me, feeling really guilty for hurting him.
“I’m sorry for knocking you out.” I bit my cheek. “But I had to try once.”
He shook his head, a small smile on his face. “I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t tried. But you didn’t actually knock me unconscious. Just dazed me for a little while.”
“I’ll have to try harder next time, I guess.” I hesitated. “Am I allowed to get something to eat? Or do I have to wait for someone to bring it to me?”
“Come on, but you can walk in front of me. I don’t need another headache.” He gestured for me to leave the room.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” I asked quietly, as I passed him. “I wouldn’t try the same thing twice.”
He sighed, falling into step slightly behind me. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done something that isn’t particularly intelligent.”
I rolled my eyes, not interested in engaging in a discussion about my intelligence again. I just wanted to get something to eat and then go back to my room, without getting myself into any more trouble.
“Are you going to tell him?” He asked, watching me.
“What I saw?” I poured hot water into the mug for coffee, stirring it gently with a spoon. “I don’t know. Will he let me go if I do?”
He didn’t reply, which gave me the answer.
“Well, if giving over the answer isn’t going to do anything, then I think I’ll hold onto the information for now.” I took a sip, leaning against the bench. “Or, in your highly intelligent opinion, is he likely to kill me if I keep withholding it?”
“If he was going to kill you, he probably would have by now.” He replied.
“That’s… not particularly reassuring, but thanks, I guess.” I held my mug close to my chest, even though it was a little too warm. “If you would please escort me back to my room now, that would be great.”
This time it was his turn to roll his eyes. “After you.”
He paced back and forth across his lab. Things with her were not moving at the pace he wanted them to. He needed answers, and now was the time to get them. Even if that meant having to force them out of her. She just kept fighting him, and he didn’t understand why he kept pushing back against her. He thought she would realise that he was trying to help her, trying to cure her of her fear. But she wasn’t listening anymore. So he would have to go with the only idea he had left.
Resolved to get the information out of her any way he could, he headed out to her room. Unlocking her door, he was surprised when she didn’t notice him at all.
I sat in the armchair, reading a book of Edgar Allan Poe’s poems. It honestly didn’t surprise me that Jonathan owned it, because it seemed to fit into his whole gloomy aesthetic. I wasn’t about to judge though, because I was just thankful he let me out of the room long enough to get something to read. I was so engrossed in what I was reading, that I didn’t notice when my door opened.
“And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.”
I looked up as I heard his voice, hesitating when I felt my heart pounding. Whether it was fear or something else, I didn’t know, but I really hoped it was fear. The other reasons for it were not what I wanted to deal with right then.
“What do you want?” I asked, closing the book and putting it aside. I stood up, trying to convince myself that I was fine.
“I want to know what you saw.” He walked over, stopping less than a foot away from me.
I shook my head. “No. You’re the last person I would ever tell.”
He suddenly grabbed me by the arm, dragging me over to the mirror. “Look at yourself, and tell me what you see.”
“Let go of me!” I fought against him, scratching at his arm, but he held firm.
“Look!” He demanded.
“Fuck no.” I pressed my foot against the wall pushing back until we fell to the ground.
My head hit the ground, dazing me slightly but I managed to crawl away. I didn’t get very far before he was suddenly on my back, yanking my arm behind me so hard that I thought it would pop out of place.
“What are you so afraid of?” He asked, calmly.
“Get off me!” I cried, trying to ignore the pain shooting through my shoulder. “Please.”
“Answer the question, and I’ll let you go.”
I rested my cheek on the floor, tears rolling along my skin. “I… I’m terrified of being the victim of my father’s infamy again.”
He climbed off me, sitting down on the floor. “What did you see? What happened to you?”
I curled up into a ball, not turning to look at him. “It wasn’t long after my brothers were killed in a shoot out with Roman Sionis’s men. I was barely fourteen, just a child.”
I felt his hand touch my arm, but I flinched away. I really didn’t want to be touched, not with what I was about to tell him.
“Papa was… overbearing, and he refused to let me go anywhere without a bodyguard. I was followed 24 hours a day, and it was exhausting. I eventually managed to convince him to let me walk to and from school and hockey practice. I’d been doing that since I was ten, and I was excited to finally get some freedom back.” I sat up, turning to face him and leaning back against the bed. “One day… Only one single day did I manage to do the walk successfully.”
Avoiding his gaze, I quietly wiped tears off my cheeks. I could already feel the terror again, but I pushed through it, just trying to get the memories out. Now that I’d started talking, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be able to stop, so I tried to get as comfortable as possible.
“The second day, I was walking home from practice. It was getting dark, and I was taking one of the alternate routes. Papa insisted that I randomly alternate routes so that only people he trusted would know where I was expected to be. But someone must have talked, because halfway to the meeting point, I was suddenly grabbed and dragged into an alley.”
I hesitated, feeling my chest tighten in panic. Taking a breath, I tried to get myself under control. Jonathan was watching me patiently, his hands gently clasped in his lap. He seemed so cold and clinical, right when I could have used even just the tiniest amount of warmth.
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I continued. “There was nothing I could really do to stop them hurting me. I knew how to protect myself, but I was a small teenager, and they were big men. So all I could do as they beat me was just curl into a ball and hope it stopped. But I guess Roman told them they could do whatever they wanted to me, because it got worse after that.”
I was shaking by this point, and I flexed my fingers, trying to stop it. “One of them… I can still remember his face, he ripped my shirt off, and carved Roman’s initials into my lower back. Then he… he… he raped me, while the others watched. When he was done, they left me there to die. I don’t know how long I was lying on the cold ground, but I know that it was dark and raining by the time Zucco came and found me.”
“And you relived this attack when I drugged you?” He asked, finally saying something.
“Yes. But…” I bit my lip, fighting against my tears. “It wasn’t right. It was all distorted, like the ground didn’t make any sense, and they didn’t have faces. They were just these blank, man-shaped creatures.”
I could barely see through the tears, so I didn’t realise he’d gotten closer until I felt him touch my face and wipe them away. Looking up into his blue eyes, I found myself calming down.
“I can help.” He whispered, holding out a hand to me. “But you have to let me in.”
I nodded, taking it and standing up. My head began to spin, and my legs gave out from under me, but he wrapped an arm around my waist, catching me before I fell.
“I’m… so tired.” I wiped my eyes, still really unsteady. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”
He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, helping me onto the bed. There was more I wanted to say, but I basically fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.
He lay on the bed beside her, watching as she slept. She looked calmer now, and he figured she would sleep better with at least a little of the weight off her shoulders. But he wasn’t calm now. After listening to her story, he could feel the fear of that fourteen year old girl inside her.
As she curled up against him, he was surprised by the fact that he liked holding her. He could smell the soft cinnamon and coffee scent of the shampoo she insisted he buy, and he gently ran his fingers through her hair, so he could smell more of it.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, fairly certain she couldn’t hear him. “I’m sorry for putting you through this.”
- 11
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

She's Not a Saint