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The Penguin and the Raven	By : AsylumWritings Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 500 -:- 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
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I can remember
The first time that we met
The feelings you gave to me - I'll never forget
I knew from that moment
When our love first began
We'd last till the end of time forever
Lost Love, Judas Priest
I paced back and forth along the walkway, looking out over the warehouse. They were late, and I was getting worried. I knew Oz wouldn’t want me calling, so I was basically being powered by anxiety and fear. My desire for vengeance was absolutely outweighed by my love for Oz, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.
An hour after they were due to arrive, I saw a couple of the men running to the doors, pulling them open. A car and a van came speeding in, skidding to a halt. I started to walk down the stairs, then began to run when I saw Oz almost tumbled out of the car. Butch climbed out, helping him up.
“What happened?” I asked, seeing blood spreading over Oz’s waist.
“He took a bullet, right as we were getting away.” Butch told me.
“Okay, bring him into the office.”
I followed Butch as he carried Oz, gently placing him down on the table. He looked over at me, concerned. I was sure he could tell that I was faking confidence to hide my fear. This was not a situation I was ready for, but I had to deal with it or Oz could die.
“I’ve got this. Go deal with the others.” I said, opening one of the cupboards and pulling out the medical kit.
“I’ll be back soon.” He left the room.
I looked down at Oz, cutting open his shirt. He was barely conscious, and when his eyes caught mine, I saw that they were glassy and dull.
“Bee?” He whispered, fading back out.
“Yeah, it’s me. You’re going to be fine.” I squeezed his hand, hoping he heard me as I got to work.
Pulling the shirt out of the way, I could see that it was nowhere near as bad as it looked. The bullet had gone right through, but right near the edge of his waist. It was bleeding a lot, and would need stitches, but I didn’t think it would need an actual doctor.
I cleaned the wound, making sure that there was nothing in it. As I began to stitch him up, I could feel my heart pounding. The last time I’d had to stitch someone up was halfway through my relationship with Slade.
“Is it bad?” I heard Butch ask from behind me.
“I don’t think so. Can you help me get him on his side?” I waited until he did, then began to stitch the entry wound on his back. “I don’t think it hit anything important, but we’ll have to keep an eye on him.”
I quietened down, focusing on each stitch as I tied them. It was hard to concentrate on this generally, but it was even harder when it was someone I cared about. It felt like it took forever, but finally I was tying the final stitch. I cleaned the last of the blood up, placed bandages over both wounds, then gestured to Butch to put him down.
“I can keep an eye on him if you want to go home and clean up.” Butch said, patting my shoulder.
“What about everything else?”
“Everything else is dealt with for now. Go.” He was forceful.
I nodded, taken aback, and I turned to leave the room.
He was pretty sure that he’d been shot, but he wasn’t certain. All he knew was that he was hovering somewhere outside of consciousness. The only thing that seemed to be keeping him from slipping away was the pain in his side. And the voice… He could hear her singing. He listened to her, using the song to claw his way back to reality.

I sat on the couch with my drink, watching Oz. He’d been out for a few hours, and I was getting worried. This was my fault. Without me, he wouldn’t have been there. Lost in my thoughts, I began to sing to myself. I needed something to focus on, and music was my best option.
Devour me and fill my heart with courage
Give me wings and camouflage the scar
Rip out my lungs and kill my fever
Bring me back to the alluring grounds of love
He stirred at the sound of my voice, but didn’t resurface. I stood up, walking over and taking his hand.
“Oz?” I whispered. “Come on, wake up.”
When he didn’t react, I hesitated. He’d heard my singing somehow, and I wondered if continuing would help bring him out. Running my fingers through his hair, I began to sing again.
Will you tell me – See you soon in a while
When my eyes fade please give me your smile
And even dark nights are ending in dawn
You'll have time to cry when I'm gone
As I finished, he stirred again, but this time slowly opened his eyes. He tried to sit up, but I pressed my hand against his chest, stopping him.
“Don’t try to sit up. You need to rest.”
“Did I get shot?” He asked, looking around.
“You did.” I squeezed his hand. “I stitched you up, and you’ve been unconscious for a few hours.”
He sat up, pushing my hands away when I tried to stop him again. There wasn’t much I could do to stop him, but it hurt that he didn’t listen to me.
“You’re going to tear back open if you keep moving.”
“I’ll be fine.” He slid off the table, standing unsteadily.
“Come on, I’ll get you home.” I helped him out to the car, asking Butch to drive us to the hotel.
We managed to get him up to the room. I let him go in, turning to talk to Butch.
“I’ll keep an eye on things back at the warehouse.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let me know if anything changes.”
“Will do.” I walked inside, finding Oz sitting on the couch.
He pat the cushion beside him, gesturing for me to sit down. When I did, he lay down with his head in my lap.
“What happened out there?” I asked, pulling my hair out of its bun.
“Maroni told them about you, and that we were likely going to try and grab him.” He shuffled, wincing a little. “There were more cops than we expected, and we had to take them down.”
“Do you need anything for the pain?”
“No. I’m just going to sleep here for a while.” He played with the tear in my jeans, closing his eyes.
Running my fingers along his arm, I listened to his breathing. I was tired too, and knew I was probably going to fall asleep too. Leaning my head back against the couch cushions, I slowly drifted off.
Opening his eyes, he could see that it was dark outside, so he’d slept through most of the day. He carefully rolled onto his back, ignoring the pain as he looked up at her. She was asleep, a soft, calm look on her face. He reached up to touch her cheek, smiling a little when she stirred, reacting to him.
He didn’t like having someone taking care of him, because it reminded him of his mother. But the way she was caring, without pushing too hard, it was nice.
When I woke up, Oz wasn’t with me, but I could hear the kettle boiling in the kitchen. Standing up, I turned to find him making coffee. He’d changed into clean clothes, but still looked a little grey.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, walking over and sitting on the bench.
“Sore, but I’ll live.” He poured one for me, handing it over. “Your stitch work is solid.”
“I’m a bit out of practice. It’s been a few years since I last stitched someone up.” I wrapped my hands around the mug, looking down at them.
“What’s wrong, love?” He softly touched my cheek.
“I was really worried about you. There was so much blood and I thought you wouldn’t wake up.”
He took the coffee from my hands, placing it down on the bench and wrapping his arms around me. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the beating of his heart.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He ruffled my hair. “You’ve seen my scars. I’ve been through far worse. It mostly just makes me pretty tired for a day, and I’ll be in pain for a while, but it’s not a big deal.”
I nodded, looking up at him. “As long as you be careful. I don’t think I can stitch anything bigger than a pistol shot.”
“I’ll do my best.” He kissed me gently. “Do you want something to eat?”
“I’ll cook.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, hearing his phone begin to ring. “You should get that. I’ll be back soon.”
Leaving him to the call, I headed down to the supermarket. By the time I got back, he was done, lying across the couch in the lounge. He was asleep, and I didn’t want to disturb him, so I put my headphones on and tried to cook as quietly as possible.
I didn’t realise how hungry I was until the steak hit the frying pan. The sizzle mixed with that frying smell made my stomach grumble, and I prayed internally for it to hurry up and cook. Pouring a drink, I watched the food as it cooked. I was feeling really impatient, and unconsciously began tapping my foot in time with my music.
As my song came to an end, I heard different footsteps and turned to find Oz walking over.
“How was your nap?” I asked, pouring a glass of wine.
“A little painful.” He wrapped his arms around me, looking over my shoulder. “Dinner smells good. How long until it’s ready?”
“Fifteen more minutes.”
“I’m going to go have a shower. Call out to me when it’s time to eat.” Pressing a kiss to my cheek, he headed to the bedroom.
I finished cooking the last part of dinner, setting the steak aside to rest. I was just serving up when he returned, pulling me close again.
“I’m trying to serve.” I laughed.
“You can keep serving while I’m here.” He kissed my neck.
“You’re in a very good mood for someone who just got shot.”
“I took the strongest painkillers we have before my nap. I’m feeling great.”
I handed him a plate of food, following him into the lounge. It was so strange to see someone injured seem awake and alert. For the first week after I’d been rescued, I could barely focus on anything.
I’d never really asked about his scars, but I wondered if that was why he seemed better already. His body had been in that situation so many times that it somehow wasn’t a big deal for him.
When we’d finished eating, he started to lie down again, but I stopped him.
“If you’re feeling tired, let’s go watch something in the bedroom. That way if you fall asleep, you won’t have to move.” I stood up, holding my hand out to him.
He took it, letting me help him. I could see that he was starting to fade as the painkillers wore off, and I knew it wouldn’t take long for him to fall asleep. So I lay down, wrapping my arms around him as he rested his head on my chest.
I turned the TV on, watching with the volume down as he fell asleep. I thought I was awake enough to stay up for a while, but I found myself drifting off not long after.
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The Penguin and the Raven