Just Paint Your Face

I walked along the streets of Gotham, with nothing but a plain grey knitted floppy hat to tame the mane that was my hair. I walked along, humming, amused that the people passing me couldn't seem to grasp the fact that the woman they all started calling "Poison Ivy" was right in their midsts.

I even passed my apartment. I had a strong urge to just go back and check if he'd forgotten anything, but I knew he hadn't.

The clown was much, much smarter than he liked to play. And that's what made him so dangerous. He wasn't particularly strong, didn't have all the fancy gadgets. But he had a charisma, a special way of thinking, moving, speaking that struck people with a kind of fear that paralyzed. In a way, this sheer willpower of his made even someone like me seem like a gardener rather than a hybrid freakshow.

The media seemed to enjoy portraying me as something a little more. I stared at a television glaring from the window of an old barber shop, replaying footage of the vines. Over and over and over again.

I smirked.

"...May...?"

I turned suddenly, my heart beating fast.

"Rachel." She must've seen the worry lines outlined on my face. She had to know. Just had to. She was the D.A. Assistant.

But Harvey hadn't noticed either, so there was still a chance.

Rachel suddenly reached out and touched my arm, as if to make sure I was still alive.

"Harvey told me about how you just walked out, acting all funny. Are you sick? Is something wrong? I mean... are you going to work now or something?"

"I'm just stressed Rachel, it's nothing."

"No, May. It's not just nothing. It's something. And I sense it's something bad. Last night I called... Jack picked up."

My eyes widened, "What... what did he say?"

"He told me you weren't feeling very well and he was there taking care of you. He said not to worry and hung up.... But he was weird, May. You should've heard his voice. He sounded like... like... God, May. I'm so confused."

I bit my lip hard.

Her grey eyes bore into my own.

"May.. you know. You know. You have to tell me. I don't care, whatever it is. I just need to know. As your friend. This isn't Rachel talking anymore. It's just Ray... Please, May. Please..."

Her eyes were filled with worry, on the verge of tears. I remembered all those late nights of studying together, going out for tea and coffee, with her complaining how I needed to get out more. How I'd roll my eyes and tell her to get out at night and see how men really acted.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't lie. I wouldn't. I glanced at my watch. I had one hour before Jeannie's lunch. One hour to gossip with my friend. One hour to leave my life fully behind.

"Come with me." I said quietly, walking back towards my apartment. I knew they wouldn't be there anymore. That's how the cops usually worked at first. They acted concerned at first, assessing the threat. If for a few days it was quiet, they moved on. I still had the grace period on my side.

I had the keys in my purse, but I didn't need them. The door was unlocked. My apartment was totally ransacked. I wasn't sure if The Joker had messed things up as his idea of a joke or if the cops had turned it upside down looking for clues. Either way, Rachel gasped.

"I-I don't understand."

"Sit down, Rachel." I breathed. Rachel sat on what was now my old sofa, her eyes scanning the room warily.

"You know what I noticed, living here for five years, Ray?"

She sat silent, staring up at me, suddenly surprised by my thoughtful tone.

I continued, sitting atop my dining room table, directly facing my old friend, "...Everyone here...everyone wears a disguise."

"May... what...?"

"You do. You hide the fact that you still love Bruce behind your relationship with Harvey..."

"But...!"

"...And you may love him. That's all very well. But you still love Bruce, Rachel. Harvey hides his insecurities about his job and your relationship behind tan skin and a white smile. And those are just the less obvious ones. There's Batman. He has a mask. There's The Joker, with the paint all over his face..."

"May..?" Her voice was worried by the affectionate tone in my voice as I said his name.

"Do you know how handsome he is, Rachel? No, you don't. Nobody does. Nobody really looks at him. He's got a square face... the nicest lips... even if he did cut them up. And his eyes, Ray. They show every bit of sorrow, every bit of hate, every bit of madness, every bit of genius that's ever been held in this world."

"May... No. No, no, no. You can't be... He can't be..."

"I have a mask too, Rachel. I have a side in me that's mad. It's been there my whole life, you see? Just growing, festering... watered and fed by lies and men and a constant routine of mediocrity." I threw off my cap as the ivy on my arm slowly crawled out to reveal itself.

Rachel let out a surprised and frightened cry.

"But now, now I feel alive. I live in truth with a man who understands everything. I'm living the way I've been trying to live my whole life. And I'm powerful, Rachel. I'm really Ivy, I'm Ivy real. You'd better believe it, I'm a great big deal." I smiled, but Rachel was crying.

"You always were the crier, Ray. Can't you be happy for me for once?"

"He made you this, May. You're not this. You're not IVY."

"I was always this. He made me realize. May's gone."

"She's in there. Dig her out!" Rachel was shouting, "Dig her out before it's too late! Oh, oh. But it's too late..."

I shook my head and walked towards the door.

"Don't kill him, please!"

"Now look who's the crazy one." I turned.

"Batman. Don't do it. Talk him out of it. Do something, May. Please, May! I love him... I love him so much..."

I blinked. I'd never seen her so distraught.

"Done." I said.

She looked up, shocked.

"Rachel... this never happened. I skipped town. I was afraid."

She nodded, wiping her eyes. They looked like storm clouds. I smiled.

"Goodbye, Ray."

"May..."

I picked up my hat and placed it on my head, walked out and down the stairs quickly, before the tears could come.

I watched the kids pour out of the building, as if some kind of fire was flowing through it. Many began walking to the fast food chains scattered around the area, so I figured taking Jeannie off campus for the rest of the day would be smooth. I cursed silently as she walked out trailing behind that blonde.

"He didn't do anything to you? Not even a knick? A bruise, maybe?"

"Nothing. Not a hair on my head fell out that night."

"Then how come a bunch of people aren't coming in and out alive?"

"I told you, just seeing him is enough to make you never want to go back. When he walks in, he fills the room with something black that makes your muscles tense."

"What about her?"

"She's beautiful. Like a supermodel," Jeannie was gesturing wildly, I was reminded of him for a moment, "Her hair is like blood and her skin is like snow. When she walks in, everything's spring and winter at the same time. She's crazy, crazier than him. They're like Bonnie and Clyde. They do what they want, when they want, and they don't need to prove a thing to the world." She smiled widely, vacantly.

She was crazy, as crazy as me. It was no wonder no one believed her. The blonde stared at her a few moments, trying to process her. She then walked away, leaving Jeannie there in the middle of the pavement.

"Jeannie." I called softly and she looked up, her brown eyes blinking.

"May!" She ran up smiling.

"Shh..." I said, "You're coming with me today."

"But my Dad..." Her eyes lit with fear.

"I told you, I'd take care of it. We'll take care of it." I shut my eyes and a Daisy was between us once again. She smiled and picked it up.

"You're Daisy now." I said. She looked back at the girl, now laughing.

"Would you rather stay with her?" I asked, "Either way, as long as your away from that man."

She shook her head, "She says I'm as mad as a balloon, anyway."

"Good." I smiled warmly.

A large black van screeched close to us on the pavement. I jumped, suddenly hit by the paranoia that it could be the swat team. Rachel hadn't kept her promise after all.

The dark driver's seat window opened just a crack.

"You got her?" I heard his voice say simply and I breathed outwardly once more.

"Yes."

"Get in the back."

Anywhere else, a young girl and a 'supermodel' woman crawling into the back of a black van would've been out of the ordinary.

But in a city like Gotham, where vigilantes had an opinion poll and kids treated outlaws as fashion, no one noticed and no one saw.