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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
- 15
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I dragged a chair up to the desk and sat down, watching Ed as he worked on whatever it was he was building now. There was something familiar about it, but I couldn’t work out what it reminded me of yet.
“Have you spoken to him yet?” He asked, not looking up from his work.
“No, not yet.” I sighed.
He turned the metal frame, looking it over. “It’s been two days. If you’re just going to keep avoiding him, why did you come back?”
I bit my lip, hesitating. “I just pulled another piece of glass out of my leg this morning. Maybe I need a couple more days, alright? I don’t need your judgement right now.”
He turned to face me, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I’m not judging you, just looking out for you.”
“Sorry. Thank you.” I suddenly realised why his work looked so familiar. “You’re making a bomb? Why does it look kinda like the ones Penguin uses?”
“Good eye!” He commented. “I’m trying to counterfeit one of his bombs.”
I stood up, walking over to look at it. “Well you’ll have better luck passing it off as one of his if you remember to put a tilt fuse in it.”
He looked up at me in surprise. “A tilt fuse?”
“That’s why his bombs are so volatile and random.” I pointed right at the centre of the penguin-shaped frame. “He puts a mercury tilt switch, right there. Then he sets them to walk increasingly erratically, until they blow.”
“That’s… incredibly helpful. Thank you.”
I sighed. “Do you really still think I’m just a pretty face? After all this?”
“No. But I didn’t think you knew this much about bombs.”
Sitting back down in the chair, I picked up one of the nearby electronics textbooks and began to read. “When I was sixteen, I insisted Papa let me learn something about the business. I’d been taking apart electronics since I was a kid, so when I asked, he sent me to work with Tony Zucco, who taught me everything he knew about wiring and making a bomb.”
“I didn’t know that.” He said quietly, as he stripped a wire.
“There’s a lot about me that you don’t know.” Turning, I sat with my legs over the arm of the chair and my back to the door. “My life has probably been pretty interesting, by average standards.”
We settled back into a comfortable silence, and I tried not to think about the talk I knew I needed to have with Jonathan. The scratches on my skin no longer hurt, even the deeper cuts on my hand and neck, but I was still hurting inside. That fearlessness I’d felt apparently applied to everything except whatever I was dealing with right now. I was freaked out, and I had no idea how to deal with it.
“If you want my opinion…” Ed began.
“I don’t.”
“You should go talk to him. I won’t pretend to know exactly what’s going on between the two of you, but I do know that you both seem… more stable, since you’ve gotten close.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll talk to him soon. Just let me take the time I need.”
Before he could reply, I got up and left the room. I was annoyed that he was questioning me, when I just needed another day or two. As I walked down the corridor, I wondered if I did actually need that time, or if maybe I was just avoiding the conversation because I was scared that I might lose Jonathan after all this.
I stopped at his office door, hugging the book to my chest. Every part of me said I should knock, but I was still hesitating. After a moment, I kept walking.
He heard her pause outside his office, and wondered if she would come in. There was so much he wanted to tell her, even if he didn’t tell her the worst of it, but she was avoiding him. And that hurt him more than he was willing to admit. More than he could understand.
He knew he’d hurt her, and he hoped he could fix it, but it was getting harder and harder to hold Scarecrow back. He couldn’t even silence the voice anymore, and that did scare him.
Why did you hold me back? Scarecrow asked, indignantly. I could have scared her even more.
“You were going to kill her.” He replied, resting his elbows on the desk.
That would have solved a lot of our problems.
“No, it would have made you a lot more unmanageable.” He rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. “Now be quiet, I’m trying to think.”
If you don’t have this conversation now, you’ll keep avoiding it. I told myself as I dropped the book on my bed. It was true, but I also knew that I wasn’t ready, and probably never would be.
I took a few deep breaths, then headed back to Jonathan’s office. This wasn’t going to be easy, but I wanted him back.
Knocking on the door, I waited patiently for him to let me in. I couldn’t shake the anxiety, but I knew it would get worse if I just kept ignoring it.
“Come in, Lili.”
My heart skipped a beat at the sound of his soft voice. I could tell it was really him, and I was thankful I wouldn’t have to deal with anything extra.
Stepping inside, I hesitated when I saw him standing by the window, looking out. He looked exhausted, like he’d slept even less than usual. I was worried for him, but I didn’t know how to help.
“I’m sorry.” He spoke quietly, not turning to look at me yet. “There’s a lot about my past that I can’t tell you yet.”
I sighed, wrapping my arms around myself. “I came back because you promised to tell me about your past. But if things aren’t going to change, and if you’re not willing to talk, then I’m leaving. I know that wasn’t you the other night, but I can’t pretend like I can deal with this when I don’t even know what this is.”
He didn’t reply for a second, and I turned to leave. Before I could take a step, I felt his hand on my shoulder.
“Wait.” He gently pulled me back to the desk, sitting down in the chair. “Just give me a second, please.”
I nodded, sitting on the wood in front of him. “I’m not asking for your life story right now. Just give me something so I know that all of this is worth it.”
“I was the kid everyone avoided in high school, the one that everyone thought was weird, and bullied.” He gently pulled my knees apart so that he could slide his chair closer. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he rested his head against my stomach. “There was only one person who was ever even remotely nice to me. Her name was Sherry.”
I softly ran my fingers through his hair, listening to his story. I was fairly sure he was telling me a story that wasn’t hugely important, but I was just thankful he was telling me something about his past.
“I was a kid looking for even the smallest amount of approval, so when she was sweet, I assumed she was interested in me.” He gently ran his fingers up and down my spine. “It was stupid of me, but I asked her out.”
“She rejected you?”
He sat back a little, looking up at me. “It was worse than that. She humiliated me.”
I bit my lip, unsure what to say. I didn’t want to interrupt him, but I was hurting for him.
“It made me angrier than I had ever been, especially when I found out that she was dating the quarterback, Bo Griggs.” He took his gaze from mine, almost like he was embarrassed or he thought I would judge him. “I wanted to make her afraid, just like I was every day. The night of the prom, I stole my grandmother’s gun. I waited by the road for them to approach. Then I stepped in front of their car and aimed the gun at them. I only meant to scare them, but they drove off the road and crashed. Sherry was killed instantly, and Bo was paralysed from the waist down.”
“Did you enjoy it?” I asked, remembering when he’d asked the same question of me.
He chuckled quietly, recognising what I was doing. He was still avoiding my gaze, staring down at my hands. “I did. Very much so.”
“Look at me, Jon.” I whispered, reaching out and touching his cheek.
He did as he was told, his bright blue eyes searching mine. I leaned over, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“Thank you.” I picked up his glasses from the desk, placing them on his nose. “I know this probably isn’t easy to talk about. Will you tell me what happened the other night?”
“Scarecrow…” He replied, so quietly I wasn’t sure I’d even heard it. “I don’t remember a time before he was inside my head. I’m sorry that he hurt you.”
I shook my head. “I can handle him, as long as I know what I need to look out for. If I can work out a way to get you back each time without having to cut my neck open, that would be great.”
He sighed. “I used to have him under control. I haven’t heard his voice in my head for months.”
Before I could reply, he took hold of my arm, and gently pulled a piece of glass out of my skin. I flinched, whimpering in pain.
“Sorry.” He said, an upset look on his face. “I wish I’d stopped him before he hurt you.”
“Shh…” I took hold of his hand. “I don’t want you to apologise anymore.”
- 15
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She's Not a Saint