Sequel: Phobia ›
Phobia.
Nine.
I was groggy when I woke, my lower back stiff. I leant back, eager for it to crack when I suddenly realised where I was.
The sharpness in my back was caused by a hard hip bone, an arm swung lightly over me, hand almost reaching my own hip. I froze, I could feel his body behind me now, his ribs rising and lowering gently, his breathing even, relaxed.
I rubbed my lips hard together, trying to control my breathing.
I had obviously fallen asleep against him.
You trusted him.
Relax, breathe, remove yourself from the situation without freaking out.
It was hardly unwanted physical contact, remember that.
Unsurprisingly physical contact was something else I struggled with, on my very long list of fucked up issues.
But that wasn’t what this was, this was someone you spent half the time wanting to touch you. I felt my face flush at the thoughts that rushed behind my eyes, practically feeling him pressed against me, not that the real him had any idea, his breathing still deep.
It wasn’t like I had never been with someone. But it was more something that felt like it had to be done in the situation, was a right of passage I needed to achieve.
Unsurprisingly I had always had sex for the wrong reason.
And with the wrong people.
He shuffled and I inhaled sharply.
Fucking stupid, to one minute feel the need to tear myself away from him, and then to imagine his teeth grazing my neck. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the skin which touched against him tingle, between my legs ache.
Fucking freak.
He mumbled slightly and the hand resting on my stomach twitched, fingers leaving a trail of tingling skin as they curled up into a fist. He moved again, the arm dragging back to his body, allowing me easily to sit up, no longer leaning on him. Instead I stared at the wall as he woke up, hearing his yawn and the joints in his knees click as he straightened his legs.
“Shit.” He murmured, “Sorry, I didn’t expect to fall asleep.”
“It’s fine,” I said quietly, half of me truthful, the other half still wanting to run back to my apartment.
If it hadn’t been half burnt by Jonathon that being said.
“I only just woke up,” I said, rubbing under my eyes quickly, feeling the dried specks of mascara, my hands moving to my birds nest of hair. He stood, staggering slightly to the television and turning it off, the blue screen had been staring at us all night.
“You want something to drink?” He asked and I nodded, finally turning to him.
“Water please.” He yawned, holding up a weary thumbs up as I left him to dash to the bathroom quickly, using the toilet and washing my face, trying to scrub away the leftover make-up with a wettened tissue, the effect half working.
My reflection was still slightly flushed, making my normally deathly pale skin look far more alive and youthful than usual. I ran my fingers through my curls, they felt greasy and were falling in clumps. I glanced at the shower, I doubted he would mind but...
“Blake,” I called, sticking my head out of the bathroom door, him appearing around the corner from his kitchen quickly, “Do you mind if I have a shower?” He practically scoffed.
“Course not.” He retracted his head quickly and I ran my tongue over my lips, pulling the door tightly shut behind me, feeling uneasy at the lack of a lock.
Taking yet another deep breath I scolded myself.
“You really need to sort your head out Keira,” I muttered to myself, starting to undress.
___________________________
For the second time in a couple of days I was staring at Bruce Wayne’s manor, today, with the chill in the air, the sun pale, it looked even more stunning than usual.
Each sharp corner conjured strange shaped shadows over the long walls and high windows. I pulled my eyes away from it, noticing Blake watching me from the driver’s side of the car, I asked him what was up and he just smiled slightly, shrugging before leaving the car.
I as usual trailed after him to the doorway, noticing a plastic coated envelope shoved in the corner, “Blake,” I said, stopping him before he nodded, alerting him to the thing I was reaching for.
It held our names in neat cursive that I ran my fingers lightly over, meeting his eyes as I opened it. “I think Bruce Wayne is keeping tabs on us,” He said shortly, mouth agape at the bundle of notes within. “Or Batman is...” I trailed off, unable to keep the grin off of my face. He glanced up at the high windows, his hard features softening slightly.
“Let’s head back,”
“Are you sure? I thought you wanted too...”
“Nah, we’re good. Let’s find somewhere quiet to buy you some clothes.” I searched his face, but it became closed off and I shrugged, accepting his words and for once leading him to his small car.
“The best places are probably downtown,” I sighed, “More busy, so hopefully less chance of us standing out.” He clicked his tongue.
“I see your point, but I’d rather not jeopardize everything, the problem is it is such a public area, we don’t know who exactly we’re trying to avoid.”
“Well I’m used to avoiding everyone, so it should be fine, if you’d rather drop me somewhere and I can sort it...”
“Yourself?” I nodded, watching as he started the car and began to circle the patch of grass at the front of the house, “I thought we had established you couldn’t keep doing everything alone?”
I opened my mouth to retort but let it shut softly.
As usual he was right.
_______________________________
You could see the lights from the apartment. The sky filled with spotlights, helicopters loud, sirens blaring. The TV was on behind me, and I kept switching from staring out at the window blankly staring at it. Blake had been on call, gone out to an attack on the stock exchange.
The cameras on the police helicopters had shown the three motorcycles followed by police cars, red and blue flashing. But then, the lights in one of the many dual carriageway tunnels had gone off, and I had leant in, the reporter in the helicopter questioning, radios in police cruisers sounding.
And then he had erupted from the tunnel, and the chase had changed.
From the motorbikes to Batman.
Batman was truly back.
I had watched the chase with tense breathing, he couldn't get caught. Not now, not the first time he came back in years.
“Okay then,” I muttered exhaling deeply a few minutes later, watching the levitating vehicle lift, zooming fast and far from the cars and helicopters. “Impressive Mr Wayne."
Blake wasn’t back until the early hours of the morning, his eyes wide with adrenalin and excitement. “He’s come back.”
“I saw that,” I smiled at him, his excitement infectious. The smile drooped, “But that also means that he knows something is coming.” This didn’t seem to phase him, instead he pulled off his jacket, chucking it next to me on the sofa.
“I made food,” I said, following him with my eyes, them trailing their way down his toned back.
“You did?”
I snorted, “Don’t sound so shocked, I can cook somethings.”
“What did you do?”
“Spaghetti.” He let out a deep chuckle, “Okay, it’s edible so shut up.” He pulled a face, obviously happy at my seemingly carefree afternoon, checking the bowl in the fridge and sniffing it over dramatically causing me to roll my eyes and turn back to the TV, the news still showing looped video of the chase.
“You’ve been different the last couple of days,” He said, sitting down heavily next to me, and beginning to shovel the food into his mouth. I glanced at him, “In what way?”
“You’re less...”
“Weird?” I offered, trying not to beam at his insinuation that perhaps there was some hope for my mental well-being after all. “With me.” He said definitively. “When you said you trusted me you meant it. You mean it.” I tilted my head slightly to the side.
“I did.” He nodded, swallowing.
“You’re not as fucked up as you think, and I think believing it was making you worse.” I bit my lower lip, to a degree I believed that statement.
But he wasn’t in my head.
My conscience wasn't even my own voice.
I just smiled, leaning back against the couch, pulling the blanket I had placed on it gently around my chilled shoulders. We had been shopping earlier in the day, going against my plan of downtown and heading out into the industrial area, stopping at one of the large superstores.
I had mainly brought basics, nothing too standout, or expensive.
Jeans, tank tops, jumpers, a few dresses, tights, slippers.
Underwear was desperately needed.
And we still had a large wad of money left, which after a bicker in the car Blake had reluctantly accepted as his. He placed the bowl down on the small table, his feet joining tit heavily.
“You think we should head back up to Wayne’s?” I shrugged.
“He knew we would once at least, but if he’s...out now, we don’t know what he’s dealing with.”
“Well we can assume it’s Bane.”
“You think earlier was linked with Bane? They overrode the system in the stock exchange?” He frowned, rubbing a hand over his face, suddenly looking tired.
“Just keep an eye out with Wayne,” I offered, “If you want to go back, go back...since you’ve put me back on house arrest.”
“You’re not on house arrest. I just think...know, it’s more safe for you here than going around like we have been, that was stupid of us.”
“Nothing bad happened.” He shot me a look that silenced my weak argument. "Today..."
“Fine.” I retorted, pulling myself up to get a drink of water, fighting back a yawn.
Again I turned to catch him watching me, he chuckled slightly, turning back to the muted television. “I think you need to go to bed,” I joked, keeping my tone light, “The adrenalin's gone to your head.”
He groaned, stretching back so his shirt lifted slightly, revealing his lower stomach and those sharp hip bones, the tiredness finally striking him.
I felt a flurry of butterflies in my stomach before I cursed at myself as usual. “Keira.” I turned, realising I must have missed his speaking as my inner monologue turned scornful of my desires.
“Sorry, what?”
“You go through and have the bed,” he half demanded, his eyes already beginning to droop, “I’m going to get up early to check on Wayne.”
“Batman,” I chipped in, smiling as his own tired one grew. “You have the bed Blake, you’ve been out all night.”
I was getting used to this sharing, and being in close proximity with someone..to a degree
Maybe it was just because it was him.
He shook his head, letting out another loud yawn, “No, that’s rude, you’re a guest.”
“You’re more stuck with me than me being a guest.”
“You’re stupid.” He murmured into his arm, dragging himself painfully up, and joining me in the small kitchen area, cornering me between the appliances and the bar, the couch and rest of the apartment blocked by his positioning.
“I’ll add that to my list,” I added cuttingly, starting to run hot water into the sink, his words offending me slightly.
I heard him sigh, suddenly awake. “You know that’s not what I meant. And you know I think very different.” I kept my eyes on the bubbles forming, resting one hand lightly on the lather. I clicked my tongue.
“No offense but I’m not overly bothered on your opinion of me.”
I could practically feel his eyebrow raising, “Is that so?” I nodded stubbornly, wincing as the too hot water started to make my skin tingle and prickle. “I don’t believe that for a second.” His hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling my arm towards him. He moved so my hand was in his, the other gently rubbing the hot water and suds off, the small movement far more than comforting, causing the butterflies to churn.
“I’ll wash up.” I shook my head at his offer, still feeling agitated.
“I can do it, I’m not completely useless.” The bitch was back, biting in the back of my head, part of me already regretting my words.
“I’m not saying that.” I rolled my eyes,
“You sound like a fucking shrink.” I could see his harden, I was pushing too much.
The bitch was doing what she always did.
“Well, you need a fucking shrink.” His voice was curt, ridiculously hurtful for such a short and true statement. I felt my eyes water. The mix of hard and soft, the instruction. His face morphed into Jonathon before my eyes and I tore my arms from him, suddenly desperate to leave somewhere I actually felt safe.
To hide, to run as I always did.
Find some hole to hide in, to not care, to just wait until I could sink into oblivion.
I was halfway down the door when I heard a noise I hadn’t in the five days since I had met Jon Blake.
My crappy cell-phone was ringing.
And only one person had that number.
Gordon was ringing me
“You worry me.” I said shortly, facing the opposite way to Blake, my anger diminished slightly at him but my pace still racing. He was straight to business.
“You have any leads on Bane?”
“Blake’s got a bunch of maps but we don’t know where in the sewer.” I heard him sigh.
“I heard about your apartment, fire on your street, put it together. I'm glad you're with Blake. What leads are there on that?”
“They’re saying it was an accidental fire, they...whoever did it had someone I know there and...”
“It’s been dropped pretty much.” Blake popped in, my speaker loud so Gordon’s words floated around the tense apartment.
“The stock market attack... you reckon it was him?” We both did. “But it was nice to have him back wasn’t it. Batman.”
Batman.
_____________
Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tock
Blake was out.
And I was confused
_____________
I had woken early as usual, having finally given up and accepted the bed, the atmosphere still tense as he had made a make-shift bed on the cough. I found him on a laptop I wasn’t aware he had, eyes scanning down the website for the paper. As usual the news was on a low volume in the background.
“They scammed Wayne.” He said shortly, showing me the screen.
Wayne doubles down- and loses
I had glared at the screen vanishing quickly to put on my glasses, thankful was ever that I always kept that in my bag. He passed me the laptop silently, and I pretended that the fact he was only in his boxers wasn’t at all distracting.
The way as he stretched when the skin moved over his ribs, his hips protruding slightly, leading towards a half formed six pack. I tore my eyes away, skimming through the article.
I didn’t know much about stocks.
I didn’t know much about anything.
I had swallowed my pride and spoken; “I’m going to assume this is bad, but I’m a bit...”
“Wayne’s completely broke. I think this was what happened yesterday, someone did this to ruin him.” I nodded, Blake reappearing, slipping on his uniform.
“In that case I’d head to Wayne tower rather than his house, if his company is broke they’ll be having an emergency meeting.” He nodded, tying his shoelaces, my eyes finding it very hard to divert from his bent over form.
“So we have Bane, the sewers, the stock exchange bust, Wayne and somehow my brother.” I spoke softly, trying to connect the dots. “She..." I swallowed, letting yet another thing go, "Selina said Bane was linked with Jonathon...we can assume it was him yesterday like you said.”
“Somehow Bane links to destroying Wayne enterprises...” he concluded, already having thought through my words and taking no notice of my reveal of her name, “But we don’t know why or how.”
“You don’t watch much TV do you?” I’d asked, confusing him enough to cause him to turn and look at me, I clicked my fingers as I thought, “All those crappy crime shows, something like this – causing Wayne to go bust... the only people who would get something from this...well a decent amount would be opposition or someone on the inside.”
“Someone who works there.”
“Higher, someone who wants to run it, or destroy it and rebuild it in there name.” He seemed convinced but I backtracked slightly, not wanting to be wrong and make a fool of myself, “At least that’s what CSI:Metropolis has taught me.”
“Ring Gordon, tell him what you think.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing the gel to force a chunk up awkwardly, “Try and link any names from the sewers, or anyone who did particularly well in the stock crash yesterday to Wayne...see what we can get.”
“On your laptop? I don’t know how much of that information will be available.” He shrugged, slipping his coat on and turning to go. “I’ll give it my best shot”. I turned, rushing to a draw and pulling out a wad of cash that Bruce had left us.
“If you do see him, might want to give him this,” He nodded and I stopped him again, “And you’ve got hair...” I gestured to his head, his brow furrowing, but allowing me enough time to tentatively smooth the section of hair. The gesture was slow, his eyes moving so they held mine.
“Thank you,” he said, although I barely heard his words, just noticing his mouth moving as I finally forced myself to look away from him.
“I’ll see you later,” I stumbled over my words, feeling my skin flush as I forced myself to stare at the television until the door closed behind me. Finally allowing me to let out a shaky breath, my pulse racing, I was too hot.
I ran my fingers through my knotty hair, about to swear at myself when I heard footsteps making their way back towards the flat.
Panic instantly set in, my eyes scanning around the room for something to defend myself with when the key landed in the lock.
It was Blake, “What are you doing...I thought you were...” One hand grabbed my upper arm, the other reaching around the back of my head and pulling it towards him, making my lips meet his.
I gasped into his mouth.
The sharpness in my back was caused by a hard hip bone, an arm swung lightly over me, hand almost reaching my own hip. I froze, I could feel his body behind me now, his ribs rising and lowering gently, his breathing even, relaxed.
I rubbed my lips hard together, trying to control my breathing.
I had obviously fallen asleep against him.
You trusted him.
Relax, breathe, remove yourself from the situation without freaking out.
It was hardly unwanted physical contact, remember that.
Unsurprisingly physical contact was something else I struggled with, on my very long list of fucked up issues.
But that wasn’t what this was, this was someone you spent half the time wanting to touch you. I felt my face flush at the thoughts that rushed behind my eyes, practically feeling him pressed against me, not that the real him had any idea, his breathing still deep.
It wasn’t like I had never been with someone. But it was more something that felt like it had to be done in the situation, was a right of passage I needed to achieve.
Unsurprisingly I had always had sex for the wrong reason.
And with the wrong people.
He shuffled and I inhaled sharply.
Fucking stupid, to one minute feel the need to tear myself away from him, and then to imagine his teeth grazing my neck. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the skin which touched against him tingle, between my legs ache.
Fucking freak.
He mumbled slightly and the hand resting on my stomach twitched, fingers leaving a trail of tingling skin as they curled up into a fist. He moved again, the arm dragging back to his body, allowing me easily to sit up, no longer leaning on him. Instead I stared at the wall as he woke up, hearing his yawn and the joints in his knees click as he straightened his legs.
“Shit.” He murmured, “Sorry, I didn’t expect to fall asleep.”
“It’s fine,” I said quietly, half of me truthful, the other half still wanting to run back to my apartment.
If it hadn’t been half burnt by Jonathon that being said.
“I only just woke up,” I said, rubbing under my eyes quickly, feeling the dried specks of mascara, my hands moving to my birds nest of hair. He stood, staggering slightly to the television and turning it off, the blue screen had been staring at us all night.
“You want something to drink?” He asked and I nodded, finally turning to him.
“Water please.” He yawned, holding up a weary thumbs up as I left him to dash to the bathroom quickly, using the toilet and washing my face, trying to scrub away the leftover make-up with a wettened tissue, the effect half working.
My reflection was still slightly flushed, making my normally deathly pale skin look far more alive and youthful than usual. I ran my fingers through my curls, they felt greasy and were falling in clumps. I glanced at the shower, I doubted he would mind but...
“Blake,” I called, sticking my head out of the bathroom door, him appearing around the corner from his kitchen quickly, “Do you mind if I have a shower?” He practically scoffed.
“Course not.” He retracted his head quickly and I ran my tongue over my lips, pulling the door tightly shut behind me, feeling uneasy at the lack of a lock.
Taking yet another deep breath I scolded myself.
“You really need to sort your head out Keira,” I muttered to myself, starting to undress.
___________________________
For the second time in a couple of days I was staring at Bruce Wayne’s manor, today, with the chill in the air, the sun pale, it looked even more stunning than usual.
Each sharp corner conjured strange shaped shadows over the long walls and high windows. I pulled my eyes away from it, noticing Blake watching me from the driver’s side of the car, I asked him what was up and he just smiled slightly, shrugging before leaving the car.
I as usual trailed after him to the doorway, noticing a plastic coated envelope shoved in the corner, “Blake,” I said, stopping him before he nodded, alerting him to the thing I was reaching for.
It held our names in neat cursive that I ran my fingers lightly over, meeting his eyes as I opened it. “I think Bruce Wayne is keeping tabs on us,” He said shortly, mouth agape at the bundle of notes within. “Or Batman is...” I trailed off, unable to keep the grin off of my face. He glanced up at the high windows, his hard features softening slightly.
“Let’s head back,”
“Are you sure? I thought you wanted too...”
“Nah, we’re good. Let’s find somewhere quiet to buy you some clothes.” I searched his face, but it became closed off and I shrugged, accepting his words and for once leading him to his small car.
“The best places are probably downtown,” I sighed, “More busy, so hopefully less chance of us standing out.” He clicked his tongue.
“I see your point, but I’d rather not jeopardize everything, the problem is it is such a public area, we don’t know who exactly we’re trying to avoid.”
“Well I’m used to avoiding everyone, so it should be fine, if you’d rather drop me somewhere and I can sort it...”
“Yourself?” I nodded, watching as he started the car and began to circle the patch of grass at the front of the house, “I thought we had established you couldn’t keep doing everything alone?”
I opened my mouth to retort but let it shut softly.
As usual he was right.
_______________________________
You could see the lights from the apartment. The sky filled with spotlights, helicopters loud, sirens blaring. The TV was on behind me, and I kept switching from staring out at the window blankly staring at it. Blake had been on call, gone out to an attack on the stock exchange.
The cameras on the police helicopters had shown the three motorcycles followed by police cars, red and blue flashing. But then, the lights in one of the many dual carriageway tunnels had gone off, and I had leant in, the reporter in the helicopter questioning, radios in police cruisers sounding.
And then he had erupted from the tunnel, and the chase had changed.
From the motorbikes to Batman.
Batman was truly back.
I had watched the chase with tense breathing, he couldn't get caught. Not now, not the first time he came back in years.
“Okay then,” I muttered exhaling deeply a few minutes later, watching the levitating vehicle lift, zooming fast and far from the cars and helicopters. “Impressive Mr Wayne."
Blake wasn’t back until the early hours of the morning, his eyes wide with adrenalin and excitement. “He’s come back.”
“I saw that,” I smiled at him, his excitement infectious. The smile drooped, “But that also means that he knows something is coming.” This didn’t seem to phase him, instead he pulled off his jacket, chucking it next to me on the sofa.
“I made food,” I said, following him with my eyes, them trailing their way down his toned back.
“You did?”
I snorted, “Don’t sound so shocked, I can cook somethings.”
“What did you do?”
“Spaghetti.” He let out a deep chuckle, “Okay, it’s edible so shut up.” He pulled a face, obviously happy at my seemingly carefree afternoon, checking the bowl in the fridge and sniffing it over dramatically causing me to roll my eyes and turn back to the TV, the news still showing looped video of the chase.
“You’ve been different the last couple of days,” He said, sitting down heavily next to me, and beginning to shovel the food into his mouth. I glanced at him, “In what way?”
“You’re less...”
“Weird?” I offered, trying not to beam at his insinuation that perhaps there was some hope for my mental well-being after all. “With me.” He said definitively. “When you said you trusted me you meant it. You mean it.” I tilted my head slightly to the side.
“I did.” He nodded, swallowing.
“You’re not as fucked up as you think, and I think believing it was making you worse.” I bit my lower lip, to a degree I believed that statement.
But he wasn’t in my head.
My conscience wasn't even my own voice.
I just smiled, leaning back against the couch, pulling the blanket I had placed on it gently around my chilled shoulders. We had been shopping earlier in the day, going against my plan of downtown and heading out into the industrial area, stopping at one of the large superstores.
I had mainly brought basics, nothing too standout, or expensive.
Jeans, tank tops, jumpers, a few dresses, tights, slippers.
Underwear was desperately needed.
And we still had a large wad of money left, which after a bicker in the car Blake had reluctantly accepted as his. He placed the bowl down on the small table, his feet joining tit heavily.
“You think we should head back up to Wayne’s?” I shrugged.
“He knew we would once at least, but if he’s...out now, we don’t know what he’s dealing with.”
“Well we can assume it’s Bane.”
“You think earlier was linked with Bane? They overrode the system in the stock exchange?” He frowned, rubbing a hand over his face, suddenly looking tired.
“Just keep an eye out with Wayne,” I offered, “If you want to go back, go back...since you’ve put me back on house arrest.”
“You’re not on house arrest. I just think...know, it’s more safe for you here than going around like we have been, that was stupid of us.”
“Nothing bad happened.” He shot me a look that silenced my weak argument. "Today..."
“Fine.” I retorted, pulling myself up to get a drink of water, fighting back a yawn.
Again I turned to catch him watching me, he chuckled slightly, turning back to the muted television. “I think you need to go to bed,” I joked, keeping my tone light, “The adrenalin's gone to your head.”
He groaned, stretching back so his shirt lifted slightly, revealing his lower stomach and those sharp hip bones, the tiredness finally striking him.
I felt a flurry of butterflies in my stomach before I cursed at myself as usual. “Keira.” I turned, realising I must have missed his speaking as my inner monologue turned scornful of my desires.
“Sorry, what?”
“You go through and have the bed,” he half demanded, his eyes already beginning to droop, “I’m going to get up early to check on Wayne.”
“Batman,” I chipped in, smiling as his own tired one grew. “You have the bed Blake, you’ve been out all night.”
I was getting used to this sharing, and being in close proximity with someone..to a degree
Maybe it was just because it was him.
He shook his head, letting out another loud yawn, “No, that’s rude, you’re a guest.”
“You’re more stuck with me than me being a guest.”
“You’re stupid.” He murmured into his arm, dragging himself painfully up, and joining me in the small kitchen area, cornering me between the appliances and the bar, the couch and rest of the apartment blocked by his positioning.
“I’ll add that to my list,” I added cuttingly, starting to run hot water into the sink, his words offending me slightly.
I heard him sigh, suddenly awake. “You know that’s not what I meant. And you know I think very different.” I kept my eyes on the bubbles forming, resting one hand lightly on the lather. I clicked my tongue.
“No offense but I’m not overly bothered on your opinion of me.”
I could practically feel his eyebrow raising, “Is that so?” I nodded stubbornly, wincing as the too hot water started to make my skin tingle and prickle. “I don’t believe that for a second.” His hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling my arm towards him. He moved so my hand was in his, the other gently rubbing the hot water and suds off, the small movement far more than comforting, causing the butterflies to churn.
“I’ll wash up.” I shook my head at his offer, still feeling agitated.
“I can do it, I’m not completely useless.” The bitch was back, biting in the back of my head, part of me already regretting my words.
“I’m not saying that.” I rolled my eyes,
“You sound like a fucking shrink.” I could see his harden, I was pushing too much.
The bitch was doing what she always did.
“Well, you need a fucking shrink.” His voice was curt, ridiculously hurtful for such a short and true statement. I felt my eyes water. The mix of hard and soft, the instruction. His face morphed into Jonathon before my eyes and I tore my arms from him, suddenly desperate to leave somewhere I actually felt safe.
To hide, to run as I always did.
Find some hole to hide in, to not care, to just wait until I could sink into oblivion.
I was halfway down the door when I heard a noise I hadn’t in the five days since I had met Jon Blake.
My crappy cell-phone was ringing.
And only one person had that number.
Gordon was ringing me
“You worry me.” I said shortly, facing the opposite way to Blake, my anger diminished slightly at him but my pace still racing. He was straight to business.
“You have any leads on Bane?”
“Blake’s got a bunch of maps but we don’t know where in the sewer.” I heard him sigh.
“I heard about your apartment, fire on your street, put it together. I'm glad you're with Blake. What leads are there on that?”
“They’re saying it was an accidental fire, they...whoever did it had someone I know there and...”
“It’s been dropped pretty much.” Blake popped in, my speaker loud so Gordon’s words floated around the tense apartment.
“The stock market attack... you reckon it was him?” We both did. “But it was nice to have him back wasn’t it. Batman.”
Batman.
_____________
Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tock
Blake was out.
And I was confused
_____________
I had woken early as usual, having finally given up and accepted the bed, the atmosphere still tense as he had made a make-shift bed on the cough. I found him on a laptop I wasn’t aware he had, eyes scanning down the website for the paper. As usual the news was on a low volume in the background.
“They scammed Wayne.” He said shortly, showing me the screen.
Wayne doubles down- and loses
I had glared at the screen vanishing quickly to put on my glasses, thankful was ever that I always kept that in my bag. He passed me the laptop silently, and I pretended that the fact he was only in his boxers wasn’t at all distracting.
The way as he stretched when the skin moved over his ribs, his hips protruding slightly, leading towards a half formed six pack. I tore my eyes away, skimming through the article.
I didn’t know much about stocks.
I didn’t know much about anything.
I had swallowed my pride and spoken; “I’m going to assume this is bad, but I’m a bit...”
“Wayne’s completely broke. I think this was what happened yesterday, someone did this to ruin him.” I nodded, Blake reappearing, slipping on his uniform.
“In that case I’d head to Wayne tower rather than his house, if his company is broke they’ll be having an emergency meeting.” He nodded, tying his shoelaces, my eyes finding it very hard to divert from his bent over form.
“So we have Bane, the sewers, the stock exchange bust, Wayne and somehow my brother.” I spoke softly, trying to connect the dots. “She..." I swallowed, letting yet another thing go, "Selina said Bane was linked with Jonathon...we can assume it was him yesterday like you said.”
“Somehow Bane links to destroying Wayne enterprises...” he concluded, already having thought through my words and taking no notice of my reveal of her name, “But we don’t know why or how.”
“You don’t watch much TV do you?” I’d asked, confusing him enough to cause him to turn and look at me, I clicked my fingers as I thought, “All those crappy crime shows, something like this – causing Wayne to go bust... the only people who would get something from this...well a decent amount would be opposition or someone on the inside.”
“Someone who works there.”
“Higher, someone who wants to run it, or destroy it and rebuild it in there name.” He seemed convinced but I backtracked slightly, not wanting to be wrong and make a fool of myself, “At least that’s what CSI:Metropolis has taught me.”
“Ring Gordon, tell him what you think.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing the gel to force a chunk up awkwardly, “Try and link any names from the sewers, or anyone who did particularly well in the stock crash yesterday to Wayne...see what we can get.”
“On your laptop? I don’t know how much of that information will be available.” He shrugged, slipping his coat on and turning to go. “I’ll give it my best shot”. I turned, rushing to a draw and pulling out a wad of cash that Bruce had left us.
“If you do see him, might want to give him this,” He nodded and I stopped him again, “And you’ve got hair...” I gestured to his head, his brow furrowing, but allowing me enough time to tentatively smooth the section of hair. The gesture was slow, his eyes moving so they held mine.
“Thank you,” he said, although I barely heard his words, just noticing his mouth moving as I finally forced myself to look away from him.
“I’ll see you later,” I stumbled over my words, feeling my skin flush as I forced myself to stare at the television until the door closed behind me. Finally allowing me to let out a shaky breath, my pulse racing, I was too hot.
I ran my fingers through my knotty hair, about to swear at myself when I heard footsteps making their way back towards the flat.
Panic instantly set in, my eyes scanning around the room for something to defend myself with when the key landed in the lock.
It was Blake, “What are you doing...I thought you were...” One hand grabbed my upper arm, the other reaching around the back of my head and pulling it towards him, making my lips meet his.
I gasped into his mouth.