Phobia.

I was awoken by two things, the sound of Anna retching in my small bathroom, where the grime could never be scrubbed from the walls and my phone. I grumbled, pushing myself up and wincing at the knot in my back, sleeping on my small sofa was never a good idea. My head was heavy, and I glared at the time on the screen as I answered,

“Morning.” I muttered, rubbing my eyes, a black streaking on the side of my hand as I pulled it away and stumbled across the room for my glasses, “Do you have to ring so early?” he chuckled lowly, and I could imagine him running an aging hand through his greying hair.

“I went out last night, asked a guy I know deals most stuff and he said he wouldn’t dare touch ‘that shit...’” I lowered my voice to imitate him, the running of the shower letting me know that Anna wouldn’t hear me, “Which means that it is definitely out there.” The bare wooden boards were cold on my feet, my old pyjama bottoms frayed where they were far too long, threads catching on the splinters.

He sighed, “I’ll make sure I have people keeping an eye out. Talking of which, I spoke to the mayor today, told me as little as I could to still get you a meeting so you’re in.”

“You tell him who I am?” I could almost feel him shaking his head,

“Nothing to compromise you. You’re still as off the grid as you want to be...although...” I cut him off, un-eager to hear his talk of me getting back into the world. I wanted to stay as disconnected from most of it as possible, “What time?” He dropped it and I could hear him searching through papers that no doubt cluttered his desk.

“Half eleven. I’ve arranged a ride with an officer from that supermarket round the block from you just after eleven.” I nodded to myself, tongue running over my dry lips. “What do I say?” I was nervous, every-time I saw him I was. He knew, he had gotten it out of me the first time I had visited him that it was me.

But he never seemed angry, if anything he was proud I have broken away from under his control, had tried to be my own person.

Because without him defining me I was nothing.

I shook the thought from my head, waiting for Gordons’ reply as I continued to walk around my apartment, moving stuff lightly from where it had moved from its appointed space.

“Anything you find out is valuable.” Was Gordon’s only advice, because he knew... knew how hard it was to talk to my brother, intellectually he could spin circles around anyone, make you believe anything, force his idea in your head.

And I had always been his favourite person to practise on.

“I’ll try my best..” I paused, my teeth now digging into my lip slightly, “Any luck with the Congressman?” I changed the subject, by now sitting on my unmade bed, hand rummaging through my bedside draw for a make-up wipe of some kind. “No luck yet, but it’s far more likely he’s somewhere with another woman,” I mumbled my agreement, “Well, if I hear anything I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks...I need to go, I have a meeting, make sure you’re at the supermarket by eleven for Officer Blake.”

My hand tightened around my phone, “Blake? Seriously Gordon... did you know he followed me last night?” Gordon sounded more amused than shocked and I frowned.

“He’s very on the ball isn’t he.” It was a statement rather than question. I scoffed. “Don’t go getting favourites now Commissioner. I’m sure he’s nothing special.”

Of course, at this point I had simply no idea how special he truly was.

Anna had left shortly afterwards, thanking me for letting her stay as I simply smiled, not trusting myself to speak, it would only end in an argument.

It was ten forty-five and I was debating leaving my apartment, not keen on what my meeting with Jonathon could ensue and not eager to meet the police officer who in the last twenty-four hours seemed far too interested in me. My fingers tapped against the wood of my small dining table, each hit stinging the raw skin from where I had torn off shreds of nail and skin during the morning.

My notebook lay in front of me, pulled from the lowest draw of my bedside cabinet, the pencil was worn, although a pack of identical ones lay somewhere in one of the boxes piled in one corner.
I had been in this flat for close to two years and still hadn’t fully unpacked...and one of those boxes held a lot of memories I never wanted to uncover.

I took a large gulp of water, forcing myself to my feet.

I needed to go, this was important. Another sigh as I pulled on my blazer, slipping quietly out of my apartment and shutting the door behind me, checking it was locked although it was...as always.

Paranoia truly had gripped me.

The supermarket was only around the corner, but the short walk I wanted to last for as long as possible was over in less than five minutes, my stomach in knots as I noticed the police car, the knots bundling even more when I noticed the figure leaning against it. He nodded slightly at me when he saw me, his eyes as intense as ever and his brow slightly furrowed as we both climbed into the car.

Nothing was said as he pulled off and my discomfort at the situation only grew until I tried to force some form of speech, “You get back okay last night?” he snorted lightly, turning his head once we reached a red light and catching my eye, “Really?” I shrugged, rolling my eyes at him.

“I was just making conversation.”

“You threatened me last night,” he said casually, popping his lips slightly “You know how much trouble you can get in for that?” he turned away from me as the light turned to green, the car weaving easily around other traffic, the police car as always making other drivers nervous. “I don’t appreciate being followed,” I said stiffly, although the guilt at how much of a bitch I was was beginning to grow, I sighed, “I didn’t mean anything by it clearly...But...how did you know where I lived?” He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes, taking a few minutes to answer, the old town streets blending into downtown streets.

“I didn’t follow you.”

“Then how exactly did you know where I was?” I saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel; the skin across his knuckles lightening as once again the car plunged into silence.

“Today isn’t a visitation day, and from what I hear Crane isn’t allowed many visitors.” His voice made me jump when he eventually spoke a good ten minutes later.

“Every inmate is allowed a certain amount of visits, whether they take them or not is another matter.” I replied, practically reciting the list of rules of Blackgate Prison.

“A lot of men in there don’t deserve that privilege.” He said lowly, and I made sure not to look at him, whatever reason he was getting wound up for I didn’t need to know.

“Well it’s a good thing you’re on this side away from them then.” I said curtly, my stomach turning more rapidly as each minute passed as we drew closer. My hands were twitching on my lap, fingers contracting and straightening practically of their own accord.

Eventually we pulled up outside, one of the guards opening the large doors so we could enter the courtyard, a mass of prisoners visible having their free time through the metal wire fences. I swallowed deeply, making sure I took a deep breath as I undid my seatbelt and pushed the door open.

“Who is he to you?...Not a boyfriend or..?” Blake asked quickly as I bent round to pick up my bag, a couple of guards beginning to head over to us to escort me. My presence was already attracting attention from some of the prisoners and their shouts were echoing off the bricked walls. I kept my eyes on his face for a couple of seconds, he looked concerned.

That wasn’t something I was used to and for once, I answered a question from someone completely honestly.

“He’s my brother.” Blake scanned over my face as I closed the door, and I knew he would notice the similarities. It was always the eyes, such a light blue, unusual.

Cold.

As much as I wanted to hide my surname, the same coldness must run in my veins.

“So, what exactly is so important you needed to talk to me so quickly?” he asked, his voice slow, smooth, eyes holding my own, the blue boring into blue.

I didn’t know how honest to be, too much honestly may make him want to play a game, grow defiant...try and hide it and he’ll easily end up getting it out of me. I never ever knew with Jonathon.

I sucked in one cheek, my teeth grating against the thin skin as I chose the former, “A guy mugged me the other day..”

“Did he hurt you?” he was quick to speak and his shoulders tensed, but as always with Jonathon you never knew how believable his reactions were. Either way I felt a flood of warmth and a few of the butterflies in my stomach dropped dead. “No, he just snatched my handbag.” I answered, lowering my eyes from him to the table, “But..that’s the problem, he was a druggy obviously but...” I forced myself to look at him again, his face gaunter than I had ever seen it, the impressive cheekbones cutting hard against his skin.

“I recognised the symptoms...he was coming down... from....your...stuff...” I trailed off, his eyes intense and making me feel wrong again, like everything I believed was bullshit. “My compound?” I nodded and he pursed his lips slightly nodding, before placing his hands flat on the table, long fingers pointed in my direction as he leant over, the handcuffs around them jingling as they hit on the small table.

“And you imagine of course that is my doing?” I narrowed my eyes, shuffling in the hard metal chair so my back was against the panels. “I wouldn’t be surprised. As far as I knew you never revealed the recipe to anyone.”

He chuckled. “As far as you knew?... And you say that assuming you actually knew anything Keira?” I felt my face grew hot; of course he was belittling me. I suppose it was the most entertainment he had in here.

“You don’t know anything.” He stated simply, pulling his bound hands back onto his lap, his head tilting slighting to one side, “I never believed you were so ignorant you were under the impression I had ever confided all truth with you.” I frowned, again sucking in one cheek. “That’s a bad habit,” he said, his voice much lighter, “It makes you look quite demented.” I stopped instantly, fighting the urge to roll my eyes or snap at him, to try and wipe the gentle smirk from his thin pale lips.

“So you’re not involved?” I pressed again, and he smiled slightly, baring his still gleaming white teeth as he shrugged.

“How could I be doing it when I’m under lock and key 24/7?” he paused, popping his lips slightly, “And let’s not forget who put me here. It's interesting you decide in some ways to continue to delve into some sort of sibling relationship when you betrayed your only brother.” I couldn't deny the stab of guilt in my chest, he knew that.

“Well then lets not forget what you did.” I said meaningfully after a short stretch of silence, my fingers once again picking at one thumb, the blood beginning to seep from the edges of my nail. He smiled again, and this time he sat back, looking as relaxed as he could in that situation.

“Oh. I haven’t. And I’ve had a very long time thus far to think about it all properly, and....” He stopped himself suddenly and looked past me, nodding to one of the guards, who began to walk over towards us. His face became stone instantly and I felt his annoyance at his slip.

“Thus far?” I questioned, jumping upon it , his choice of words unusual, the harsh ending to his sentence, he had never given much indication of time before, of the idea of leaving. “I thought you had a life sentence Jonathon...what... were you going to say?!” He merely smirked, forcing confidence back on his face. The guard by now had moved to him, unchaining his ankles from the chair and pulling him upright.

“You can search for any meaning in my words that you wish Keira. I look forward to our next visit.”

“Time's up,” another guard barked, coming over and searching me quickly again, his hands dragging far too slowly up my sides for my liking.

“Done?” I spat as he moved away, spinning on my heel before he could retort and making my way out of the room and back down the grimy white hallways, my boots tapping rapidly against the marble as I continued to the main office where my bag lay, and more importantly the satellite phone within it.

I look forward to our next visit

Something was definitely fucking going on.
Now I really needed to talk to Gordon.

“He’s out on patrol at the moment I’m afraid, can I take a message?” I murmured a no, pressing the end call button on my phone and letting my arm drop by my side as I frowned, pulling my bag back over my shoulder and starting to walk down the path, quickly reaching the main road of Gotham, where the city hall stood tall.

I remember when Harvey’s office used to look out over 2nd Street.

I instantly felt sicker.

A light chill was in the air, and the breeze kept catching my hair, lifting it up in tendrils that stuck to the side of my face. I avoided eye contact with passers-by, a million thoughts running through my head surrounding Jonathon’s words, or at least the hints behind them. About how every time I saw him I doubted pretty much every decision I had made in my life. Doubted myself.

I stopped when I was by a small coffee shop and made a decision, heading a small table with a coffee on order and the phone in my hand, I dialled the same number as before, Gotham Police Station.

“Hello, sorry I called earlier, my name is...” I paused, using the first one that came to mind and rolling with it, “Anna Maroni,” I didn’t think they were likely to look into to, and it wasn’t like Anna would know, I listened to the man ramble on again, “No, No, I’m sorry... I was actually wondering if you could give me any information on John Blake. I’m a friend of a friend and I’m trying to get in contact with him.”

“I’m afraid I cannot give that kind of information out over the phone Miss Maroni, that being said he is currently on duty as it is so is unlikely to be reachable for a while,” I frowned, deciding on a different tactic,

“I’m trying to plan my friend’s birthday party and I really only need to speak to him for a minute but it needs to be this afternoon, is there any possibility you could give me the frequency to contact his via his patrol car, honestly you would be doing me a huge favour.” I finished with a little giggle, finding myself as usual playing up to the masculine desire to impress a woman.

“The best I can do is to pass on your number and radio him myself,” I grinned lightly to myself, mouthing the waitress a smile as she placed the hot chocolate in front of me.

“That would be wonderful, thank you so much...”

“Aaron,” He said lightly, and I repeated my thanks, relaying the number of the cell phone to him once I remembered and making sure I practically purred his name. I hung up whilst he was finished speaking, the beep as the line cut off practically music to my ears.

Officer Blake may have been a busybody, but, from earlier, I got the impression he kind of cared. And if I couldn’t get through to Gordon he was second best. He didn’t seem like he would be a dirty cop, and Gordon already seemed to like him.

For some reason that meant a lot to me.