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Mile Deep Hollow	By : LadyEvelette Category: DC Verse Movies > The Dark Knight Views: 738 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of its affiliated characters and I make no profit from this piece of fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Musician Meets Joker
- 2-Friends
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- 2
Bullets soared above her head whizzing chaotically and Bonnie curled tighter into herself. One of them skimmed her flesh, leaving a burning trail of displaced skin and muscle but her soft cries were dulled by the roar of the firefight. In a fit of brazen boldness, one hand moved away from her head to fumble blindly for her cane. The moment her fingers curled around it, she tucked it against her body feeling obscenely better despite its utter uselessness as a proper defense. The courage faded quickly after that and despite the nearly overwhelming urge to flee, she knew better. She was blind, even if she got to her feet and managed to avoid the spray of bullets, the adrenaline had dulled the rest of her senses and she no longer had any concept of where she was or which direction she was facing.
Minutes that felt like hours dragged by but finally the deafening roar of gunfire stopped and the world fell silent save for a dull ringing that reverberated through her skull. Bonnie didn't move and she continued to repress the natural urge to flee by tightening and relaxing her grip on her cane. She didn't want to draw attention, she wasn't apart of this and the last thing she wanted was some trigger happy fool unloading a barrel into her just because she moved first. There was no indication of what side stood victorious and Bonnie really wasn't keen on either, it was best to just stay down.
Muted footsteps, distorted by the ringing in her ears, informed her that someone was moving closer and the realization squashed any meager hope she had about being left alone. Tentatively she pushed herself up, not wanting to be in such a vulnerable position, but never got the chance, two hands ensnared her upper arms and Bonnie flinched. They belonged to two different people, she could feel the vast size difference but it hardly mattered. The twin grips were an iron shackle that locked in place and hauled her up like she weighed nothing. Bonnie didn't fight. Fighting only ever made it worse. The creaking slide of a van door informed her that it probably wasn't the cops and Bonnie closed her eyes reflexively as she was passed off and pulled into the vehicle. She was dumped on an old bench seat that was worn and smelled of dust. Fearing for her health, she didn't bother fumbling for the rotting seat belt and instead gripped her cane tightly.
"Hey, Dove. You still with me?" The voice was sharp and hard, but edged with curiosity and even though it took her a second to place it, once she did a wave of relief washed over her. It didn't show in the stiffness of her posture but it softened her eyes and the anxious lines of her face. She shifted and shuddered, shaking slightly fro the rush of the adrenaline.
"Penguin?" She wheezed slightly, trying to get her heart rate to settle back into a somewhat manageable rhythm. The irony that she would feel safer in a sketchy van with one of Gotham's most notorious than the police wasn't lost to her. Bonnie was pulled away from her thoughts when she felt the tip of what she presumed was his umbrella prod at her arm, just below the fresh wound. She grimaced as the action caused the pain to bite through the adrenaline and she heard Penguin click his tongue in displeasure
"Uncouth, inbred mongrels." Oswald huffed, shuffled around and snapped his fingers. Instantly, she heard someone else move and gentle fingers began assessing the damage. Bonnie's jerk reaction was to pull away but she'd worked for The Penguin long enough to know his people were professionals, so she sat still and endured in silence as the unknown employee began treating the wound.
"I wouldn't disagree, but I left Gotham's elite hours ago, those were just the cops." A wry, clever smile tugged at her mouth and Penguin chortled a laugh and tapped her foot with the tip of his umbrella.
"Quite right my dear, how very uncultured of me. Forgive my lack of wit." The drawl came heavy and thick, equally coated in sarcasm and despite her discomfort, Bonnie flashed him a smile. For the most part, Penguin was fair but harsh. He expected perfection. Give it to him and he'd take care of you, fuck him over... and you'd wind up in a worse way than when you started and while Bonnie wasn't a criminal, she wasn't exactly a saint either. She did what she needed to do to survive and that involved playing her music for the people who would pay her enough to live. Penguin offered her just that. The Iceberg Lounge was her home. The banquets and fundraisers that hired her were lovely but they didn't come near often enough to pay her rent or to put food in her belly.
"With charm like yours, how couldn't I forgive you?" Bonnie joked but didn't take it any further. She respected Penguin and prickling his pride was an excellent way to turn his pleasant mood foul so she supplemented the good-natured banter with business to change the subject. "I've been working on a new set and I'd like to play it for you when you've got the time? It's a bit more upbeat, fusing old school jazz with ragtime. If you like it, perhaps we can test it on the regulars to ensure it fits the motif?" Everything was a question, never a suggestion, never a command. If he told her no, she accepted and moved on to creating something else. She had ideas and he generally trusted her enough to listen, but Penguin always got the final say with no fuss from her. He was the boss and she respected that. It was arguably why she was still employed and in his good graces. She knew exactly where she stood on the food chain and never tried to rise above that rung simply because she'd been on it awhile.
"Hmm..." The man hummed and Bonnie let out a soft whine as a needle suddenly pierced her flesh and her wound was slowly sutured shut. She silenced herself quickly though. She was lucky enough that Penguin had deemed her worthy of patching up and she wouldn't repay that rare kindness by complaining about a bit of discomfort. "Would Ella Fitzgerald still be gracing your set?" The unspoken threat in those words could have made lesser plebeians quiver but Bonnie had to take a minute to fight through the pain before she could even consider the question. She reached out, aiming to set a hand on Penguin's sleeve. It was more to distract herself than anything else and she'd done such gestures before when he sat with her at the piano. She took a deep breath to steady her thoughts. He was asking about business and she would focus.
"Always. I would never disgrace the Iceberg by neglecting the Queen of Jazz herself. There's a fair amount of her material sprinkled in." A knowing smile, because she'd learned what Oswald liked and she custom built her sets not only to suit the Iceberg Lounge but also to suit her boss. Another hum, this time of approval and she could hear him shuffling about.
"Excellent. I'll listen Thursday at noon... if he brings you back by then." There was an amused darkness to those words and Bonnie's heart skipped a beat. She knew very much who HE was and she wasn't all that sure she liked the sound of going somewhere for an unforeseen amount of time. Even still, she hid it, attempting to sit poised even as the medic continued to dress her wound.
"Brings me back?" Tentative, unsure, the question fell from her tongue with poise but not without mild concern. Penguin chuckled, his demeanor becoming far more sinister. Bonnie was grateful she didn't have to endure this side of him often.
"The Joker, dear Dove, he's the one who told me all about the little escapade orchestrated by the police, he's also the one who hired me to ensure you lived and they didn't." Sadistic, the words dripped with an unadulterated pleasure that made her flinch. Penguin chuckled at the display and for once she didn't chastise herself over a display of weakness. Bonnie didn't like the notion of death or the coppery tang of blood. It took her right back to the day she lost her eyes. A violent shudder slithered down her spine and she turned her head. "That's not to say I wouldn't have come. You're worth much more to me alive than dead... and I know quite a few patrons who would miss your dulcet tones." Penguin drawled and she could feel his black eyes boring into her, hunting for the nerve. She swallowed harshly. "But I do so love indulging the chink in Joker's armor. Enamored. He just can't seem to leave you alone eh?" The words were meant to chill her and to a degree, they succeeded.
"Me? It must be my snarky charm, my lovely eyes and my choice of designer clothes." The words were meant to be a rumbling jest, but they came out shaky. She tried too hard to hide her discomfort and Oswald most assuredly didn't miss it. He chuckled softly but didn't reply and Bonnie settled in, frowning when the car rumbled to a stop. There was no noise except... the ocean? She swore she could hear waves and that coupled with the salt in the air confirmed it. She listened as the various doors opened and shut before meekly following.
The cold air sunk into the torn seams of her dress and she wrapped her arms around herself, cane tapping quietly against the wooden planks to her right. The docks then. What in the hell was she doing at the docks?
"She's damaged." A cold, toneless voice echoed some distance away and Bonnie jumped and got the keen sense that she was little more than livestock being appraised.
"And she's fixed." Penguin sneered. "I can't control the idiocy of Gotham's finest."
"J won't be pleased." Same tone, same flat response and Bonnie began to feel more and more uneasy. Perhaps she should have taken her chances in prison.
"The Joker is welcome to come fetch his own play things next time. Give me my money or I take her back with me. Either way, I win. He's lucky I'm willing to give her a few 'sick days' to help her get over her traumatic experience." Penguin was not one to be intimidated and Bonnie was beginning to feel like an observer who didn't belong. There was another bout of silence and then the sound of something sliding across the wood. Her heart pounded as the sound of a zipper filled her ears and then Penguin chuckled. "Nice doing business with you boys. Tell your boss not to tarnish her pretty face, hmm?" Retreating footsteps moved back towards the van while new, foreign gaits headed towards her.
She supposed she should feel betrayed but... it was just good business. Could she fault him for making what she presumed was thousands off a single act when it strengthened bonds between Gotham's underworld? She'd chosen to work for the Penguin, this was part of that. She had no one to blame but herself. The footsteps stopped in front of her and Bonnie trembled her grip on her cane tightening. As foolish as it was she was prepared to swing it and run if things turned violent. The not knowing what or who was coming at her was the worst. Something rustled, there was a whoosh of air and then a hard smack against the back of her skull. Bonnie briefly had time to realize she'd been struck before she slumped forward and spiraled into unconsciousness.
Her fingers tickled the ivory keys in a rolling, light melody. It was a slow night and her job wasn't to steal the spotlight, it was just to create a lovely backdrop for casual conversation. While she preferred to sing a set of her favorite old songs, these nights were equally fun. She could compose easy melodies or experiment with a slowed down version of ragtime and see what kind of mixed reactions she would get. Sometimes patrons wandered up with compliments or a request and sometimes she got hissed at. Music was malleable, equal parts successful experimentation and disaster. It was controlled chaos that could only be warped into a measure of tameness by a skilled hand but even then it was a finicky mistress. The night wound down and even once her boss called it quits and slowly rounded the patrons out the door, Bonnie kept playing, it wasn't until boots hit her stage that the small blonde finally stopped.
"Lost in the music again eh?" The old Italian chuckled and Bonnie flushed only slightly embarrassed as the older man came around the piano to join her on the bench. "My wife's the same way, only she isn't any good which makes living with her insufferable." The words were harsh, but Bonnie could hear the teasing lit in his voice. An indignant squawk echoed from the bar telling both of them that his wife had very much heard the insult and Burcelli roared with laughter. Bonnie put her hands up in mock surrender.
"Oh no, I'm not getting dragged into this one again. Fool me once-" Bonnie trailed off and this time both of them laughed at her expense.
"What's a matta' Bonnie, you don't want me to come up there and play sax with you?" Lucinda hollered from the bar and while Bonnie's mouth thinned, betraying her displeasure, she smiled sweetly all the same.
"Oh... anytime Lu." She murmured back, playing along even though she knew it was all a big tease. Thankfully Burcelli saved her.
"Hey love, we're not trying to run the business into the ground, you stay behind the bar and let Bonnie run the stage, yeah?" There was a bit more banter that trailed effortlessly between them before the jokes simmered down and Burcelli turned more serious eyes back to Bonnie.
"We're getting ready to close up shop... you gonna stay and play awhile longer?" The question may as well have been rhetorical and at the bright smile that spanned Bonnie's face, the old Italian just rolled his eyes. "Why do I even ask." He muttered and pressed a few scattered keys. Bonnie winced as he butchered the melody but didn't voice her displeasure. Music was an art and as much as she adored her boss, he couldn't play for shit.
"You ask on the off chance you ever get to lock up your own lounge again." Bonnie quipped, a wry smile tilting the edge of her mouth. Burcelli started laughing and reached over, ruffling her hair affectionately. Bonnie swatted him off. "Has Penguin still been ghosting around?" Curious, she'd only just become aware of the mobster but apparently, it was the wrong question to ask because the playfulness of the atmosphere swiftly turned sour.
"Bah, don't you worry your pretty little head, what's he gonna do, waddle towards ya?" Burcelli brushed away her concern but rose, pacing back across the stage. She'd heard the rumors, heard that Penguin owned this stretch of town and if something of interest caught his eye about this place... there was nothing anybody could do. That old world mob shit was something Bonnie had never seen but the very presence of the man sent a shiver rippling down her spine. How did anyone live like that?
"You worry too little Burcelli, but go on, get your wife home and buy her flowers... or maybe just a new mouthpiece for her sax." A wicked smile and the Italian huffed throwing up his arms even as his wife laughed and locked up the liquor.
"Women! Unspoken rules! Always fighting against me!" His voice trailed through the bar and Bonnie could hear him gathering his things. His wife consoled him but Bonnie just smiled and turned back to her piano. "We'll lock up behind, make sure you're safe. If it's too late just sleep in the lounge. Don't walk home from this shit hole after one yes?" There was concern in his voice, genuine in its delivery and Bonnie smiled.
"Sure thing dad." She laughed and the words were followed by more huffing before she returned to her piano. The door clicked shut and she heard the telltale sign of a lock, her cue to start playing again.
For an hour or so, she stumbled through new songs, tried different variations of her current sets and made mental notes to try a few new things next weekend. The beginnings of sleepiness were beginning to catch up to her though and the small blonde opted to call it a night. She gathered up her things, shut off the lights, slipped out the back door and almost jumped out of her skin when fingers touched her sleeve.
"I'm sorry." A giggle that morphed into a harsh laugh. "I didn't mean to scare you." Wheezed through bits of laughter it only took her a second to place that timid voice.
"Arthur? What are you doing here so late? The Lounge closed over an hour ago and mic night isn't until Saturday." Bonnie frowned, arms folding over her chest to stave off the cold. Even if he'd seemed kind and relatively harmless yesterday, she was still uneasy about being accosted so late at night. A heavy silence followed her inquiry and she could hear Arthur fidgeting.
"I... err..." He tried and stuttered, stumbling over his words for a moment. "It was a long day at work and you said yesterday you needed a joke. I thought you might need another." The words were soft and carried a genuine quality that was hard to fake. Bonnie blinked, her expression softening slightly, she still didn't know how much she trusted this virtual stranger but something about him was just pure, like the malice in the world hadn't gotten to him yet.
"It's past midnight and you came all the way here to... tell me a joke?" Incredulous and more than a little curious she canted her head at him. Arthur nodded eagerly but quickly realized she couldn't see it and swallowed to find his voice.
"Yes." A simple affirmation with no further context. Bonnie bit her lip but couldn't stop the smile. She didn't like to categorize herself as naive but there was something about Arthur she just genuinely enjoyed. It was hard for her to find a reason to not trust him.
"Alright, let's hear a good one." Bonnie rumbled after a minute and this time the reply came fast.
"A blind man walks into a bar... and then the table and then the chair." There was a wry, cleverness to the words and Bonnie was sensing a theme. Blind jokes? Would she get a new one every time she saw him? The thought didn't make her sad, instead, she smiled and a light chuckle pulled from her chest.
"If I didn't know any better, I would say you think I'm graceless." Bonnie quipped, amusement coloring the words and while Arthur barked another ill-timed laugh, he vehemently shook his head.
"No, no, well, you did sprawl out across the bus face first when we met." The words were shockingly honest and Bonnie's brow shot up to her hairline. There was a beat of silence and then she found it was her turn to burst into untimely laughter.
"Touche." She rumbled once she settled back down and the silence that settled between them was oddly comfortable. Bonnie gnawed her bottom lip, debating for a moment and then settled on fuck it. "Would you...like to see the Lounge? Technically I'm not supposed to let anyone in after hours but I won't get in trouble and I did promise you a song." This was wild and foolish, she barely knew this man and yet... she couldn't bring herself to regret asking.
"If it won't get you in trouble, I would love too." Timid and shy again, his voice lost its confidence but Bonnie simply nodded, unlocked the door and once she felt him breeze inside, she followed. She took a moment to re-lock the door and flip on the lights, using her cane to glide between the booths and tables and back towards the stage.
"See? I didn't walk into the bar, the tables or the chairs." Bonnie quipped and was answered with a laugh... a real one this time, devoid of all his nervous anxiety. She paused to listen but opted not to call him out on it. "If you're thirsty you'll have to settle for soda or water. The liquor gets locked up at night but help yourself." Bonnie hummed. If her boss said anything she'd just tell him she got thirsty brainstorming and to put it on her tab. She wasn't so broke that she couldn't afford a soda.
She waited until Arthur got settled before taking her place behind the piano. She rolled her shoulders and was surprised to hear his shoes hit the stage. He didn't join her, instead, it sounded like he sat on the floor directly in front of the piano more like a child at an assembly. She had no idea what he looked like beyond the long slender fingers that had grasped her own on the bus but she hoped he was sitting cross-legged with a big smile pulled across his face. It would match the image of him she had in her head.
"Any requests?" She intoned and found herself growing accustomed to the silences between Arthur's replies.
"No. Just something that sounds beautiful." His tone was a bit breathless and Bonnie found herself taken aback. She'd offered to perform more for fun but he sounded genuinely excited. All her typical, snarky choices fell to the wayside instantly and she considered for a moment before she settled on a far more modern piece.
"Beautiful... come sit next to me then. It's a composition meant to be shared called Nuvole Bianche by Ludovico Einaudi. Have you ever heard it?" It had lyrics, but Bonnie wouldn't sing it. To her, it was much more beautiful without the vocals. She heard Arthur shuffle around for a moment and then the bench creaked as he sat next to her. Despite the proximity, he didn't touch her, not even the smallest brush and with how small the bench was, he must be going through pains to give her space. For some reason that broke her heart, how harshly had he been used to be so conscientious of the smallest, most unregistered touch? Bonnie slowly reached for his arm. Her fingers found the worn material of his shirt and slowly she looped her arm through his. She felt him tense so hard that his muscles trembled and she froze, wondering if she'd read him wrong. "Is this okay?" She whispered, her voice low as a few nervous bursts of laughter ripped from his chest.
"No, yes... no... I mean...ah" He stuttered blindly and she made to retract her arm when he tightened his elbow to his side, effectively trapping her. She sucked in a sharp breath. "Stay. Please." A whisper, so quiet and broken that Bonnie had to close her eyes against it. She was suddenly grateful that she was blind so that she wouldn't have to visualize his struggle. It took him a long minute to calm down and relax but finally she shifted closer so she could keep their arms locked while her fingers found the keys.
"I'll stay. Just listen, okay?" A fragile whisper and while he didn't respond, she felt the way he relaxed. Taking that as her cue, she began the song. The introduction was slow, elongated notes that spun a sound of darkness and depression. Arthur shifted, moving constantly as the low keys encircled them with the melancholic sound but he never jostled her arm. A few bursts of laughter teased the air but nothing that harshly disrupted the melody. About a minute in, the song broke, a soft pause, before she continued to press the ivory keys and the tone of the song began to morph.
Hope was introduced in a scattering of keys, a sense of whimsy and light instead of haunting despair and that feeling only grew as the song continued. Halfway through, Arthur began to laugh, a wheezing, broken sound that seemed to directly contradict the uplifting melody. As the positive annotation of the melody continued upward, Arthur laughed harder until she felt his forehead press against her shoulder and something wet soaked into her sleeve. He wasn't laughing, he was crying. The sweet, uplifting melody was meant to inspire and yet... his arm slipped from hers only to encircle her waist, pulling her closer as he began to wheeze and cough. Her own eyes, useless as they were, filled with heartbreak as his long, too skinny fingers clutched at her blouse with the desperation of a man long since broken. Bonnie kept playing, allowing the last few chords to die out before she slowly moved to embrace him back.
"Thank you." He wheezed, rocking gently now. "I needed that more than you needed my joke today.",He was still trying to make light of himself and Bonnie let out a teary chuckle and smoothed her fingers along a protruding spine in what she hoped was a soothing gesture. Just how thin was he?
"You're welcome." She murmured back and just held him. They stayed like that for a long time, saying a whole lot with no words at all, but finally, he let her go and Bonnie pulled back. "Arthur?" Bonnie intoned and waited for the preemptive moment for Arthur to speak.
"Yes?" Soft and low, a lost child.
"Come back tomorrow. You can sit next to me while I play my set." It was impulsive but Bonnie felt a bond with this man. Something precious, something she hadn't felt in a very long time. She fumbled for his hand and laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. "I'm still new to the city and... maybe we can be friends?" She wasn't the most socially adept person either but there was just something about him that she didn't want to walk away from. He squeezed her fingers back tightly, so tight it almost bordered on painful.
"I... would like that." Soft but filled with a rare hope, Arthur's voice was different and Bonnie smiled. They didn't speak anymore as she closed down the Lounge, but Arthur never let go of her hand. Down the street, up the rickety staircase of her apartment building and all the way to her door. He didn't let her go until she was inside and safe. Only then did he smile, only then did he step back so she could get ready for sleep. He glanced down at his hand, it was still warm and it smelled like her. Through the cheap walls, he could hear the soft tapping of her cane as she navigated her apartment. A friend, his first friend. Mama would be so happy.
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Mile Deep Hollow