Levity

He's played his hand perfectly. Set into motion the stir of paranoia, the twisting of jealousy deep in my gut. Wade would have mentioned that name for this very purpose. To pit me against them both, to make things difficult. This Doctor could be no-one, simply a name he recognises and wants to taunt me with. He's mad at me, but would he do this? I'm not sure, which only makes everything worse.

I swallow it down, for that evening and all of the next day. Jack plots, takes phone calls on the same crappy cell that Wade had done previously. I try to cling on to names, make sense of who is who and what their intentions are. At one point, when Jack huffs and sits on the bed, it's Crane on the phone. I can hear his tone through the buzzing.

I move away with my throat thick, Jack notices with the point of one brow but says nothing. Eventually, he seems finished and tosses the phone across the mattress. “Get ready.” He orders blankly, “It's time for you to be useful.”

“Useful?” The word is repeated back at me in an increasingly frantic fashion so I do as I'm told. Put on a finally dry dress and slap on some make-up. I look the most myself I have here. At least, the myself I had tried to be for the last year. “Where are we going?” I finally ask, ready and fighting the urge to pick at my nails. I bite my lip, and instinctively my hand lifts to my mouth. He slaps it away and I keep it pinned to my side as he rummages around.

Finally, he seems satisfied and looks oddly normal. His hair is pulled up into a messy bun, highlighting his cheekbones more than ever. He looks good. I don't deny myself that thought. He mumbles for me to come on, although he moves a chunk of my hair back over my collarbone in a delicate manner. I follow, as ever and find the rest of his 'crew' ready and waiting.

“You know where you're going?” Jack barks at Louis who nods, letting his eyes drag over me. The hair on both arms prickle. Jack doesn't seem to notice anything, Louis grabs his gear and heads out with one of the others. Wade is checking a pistol and slots it into the waistband of his jeans.

“You're with Wade.” Comes the instruction. I'm half tempted to query this, but at this point that almost seems too good to be true. Ten minutes later I'm outside, Wade wordlessly passing me his jacket when I'm shivering. “Thanks.” I allow, shrugging into it, grateful for the barrier against the chill wind. “What are we doing?”

“He didn't tell you?” I lift a brow, although my stomach pinches.

“He doesn't tell me a lot of things,” I answer swiftly. I haven't been keeping track of where we're walking and we keep at it for at least another half hour, Wade oddly silent. Eventually, he grabs my hand gently and pulls me to a stop. “You need to make a call.” Confusion must flood my face, he sighs, nudging me towards the payphone. “Jack wants you to call Bruce,” his lip curls, “call him, act upset, let him track the call.”

“But that's...”

“Exactly what you wanted to do anyway.” He leans against the plastic walling separating us from a bus stop. He grins, although it doesn't look believable. “Slight change to that genius plan though.” He pulls out a cell phone, yet another one I don't recognise and dialls quickly. The speaker is quiet and Wade gives nothing away, responding in grunts.

“Diall Bruce.” He demands, voice unusually cold. I do as he says, recalling Bruce's penthouse number from somewhere far back in my brain. It rings a few times, and Wade snatches it out of my hand, listening to the tone. He forces it into my grasp and I can hear Alfred, sounding exhausted, wondering who had this private number. I slam the phone down instantly. “Why does he want me to call Bruce?”

“For fuck sake Eleanor.”

“I'm not doing it, I'm not helping him anymore.” His lips purse, as if he's dealing with a spoiled toddler having a tantrum. “I'm not betraying Bruce again.”

“Again being the primary word. You had no problem doing it before!” The words lift and a woman waiting for the bus glances worriedly over. “I'm not doing it.” He's too slow and I slip away, not bothering to run, there's no real option of me getting away but I keep a few steps ahead for a block. “Fine.” He snags the jacket, forcing me to a halt. “Don't do it. How do you think that will go down?”

“I don't care.” I all but spit, my insides still turning violently. “I meant what I said...”

“And how many times have I heard that before?” His voice lifts, poison in his imitation, “I mean it Jack, I haven't touched anything. I mean it, I'm not letting you into the building Wade.” He keeps going, each more spiteful, each painful memory of my failure digging deeper. ”How about,” he's holding a handful of the fabric so tightly it's straining. “When you meant it few months ago? That sure didn't fucking stick did it, you hopped back into bed with him the minute he'd have you. You talk shit Elle, everything you say never fucking follows through, does it? You'll help him, you can't stop yourself! Why do you think he didn't bother getting you when they broke from Blackgate? He knew you'd come begging for him, that you wouldn't be able to help yourself. You're a...” He flings his free arm aside, grasping for the word, “you're a leech Elle. What are you, what are you without him, really?” The fire is gone from his words when he finishes, all that anger dissipated.

I am as empty as the stumbled apology that follows. Numb. “You're not...” He's released me now, given me the possibility of running from his words. My eyes don't water, I treasure that much. “You're not supposed to...” What was I trying to say? You're not supposed to say things like that, think things like that?

You shouldn't be able to see me for what I really am.

I'd always lived with the view that Wade saw a very rose-tinted version of me. That maybe, just maybe, he thought I was better than I was. I'm as much mistaken here as I appear to be in most things. At least Wade is silent, he keeps crossing and uncrossing his arms, unsure how much to look at me. He feels bad, there, we've cracked it. Killing five buses worth of people don't do it but knowing he has unveiled his true opinion of me does.

I laugh, surprising myself as much as him. It's short, derisive and there's nothing really there. His eyebrows shoot up, hold still halfway up his forehead. I cover my mouth to hold the laughter down. “I'm still not doing it.” The words spill, his face tightening further. “And Jack can do whatever the fuck he likes in retaliation. Who fucking cares?”

It feels like an era passes. “I care.”

“Well, you're just stupid then aren't you?” He gapes, goldfish. "You've just given a whole list of reasons why you shouldn't." As his mouth opens I cut him off, "I don't care. I really don't Wade, we'll just go back. I'll let Jack know we've let him down." The shrug is all for show, "Maybe he'll carve us up a little, it's not like he hasn't threatened to plenty of times." In the midst of my madness I'm moving again, Wade scurrying behind me. My voice is uncomfortably loud. "Maybe I will ring Bruce, leech off him a little. Even better, what if I fucked him? Get the full set then! Jack would be so proud of us." He keeps saying my name and I'm more than aware of a number of looks aimed our way. Wade reaches level, and steers me down an alleyway, somewhere more private. There's one more blow I can strike as he leans against the wall, lines deep in his forehead. "I could tell him," I let it sink in, "About us. Are there bonus points for going above and beyond the full set?"

There's a second where he genuinely looks like he wants to hit me square in the face. I can hurt his feelings just as much as he can mine. "That's it, isn't it? If I'm a leech how much better are you? I wouldn't have to go begging after him in you hadn't let him out!"

He retracts as if I've slapped him. I make myself stop pacing, my heart is pounding, pulse racing up one side of my neck. Wade is staring through me, it's the only way to describe it. He's paused, I am not present in this moment.

A particularly strong gust of wind travels past the high buildings and shoots down the narrow space, I huddle further into his jacket. It's sobering and allows my heartbeat to slow. Along with that calm comes the rest, a prickle over my flesh, of embarrassment, shame. I want to cry now, feel my throat clogging.

“Let's get some food.” His voice comes out of nowhere, breaking through the ringing in my ears. A smile seems almost natural, and he rests a hand on my lower back until I'm steady on my feet. He leads us into a small cafe, a cute looking place and sits down in a booth, inviting me to mimic him. I do so, instantly thankful for the warmth. A young girl comes over, must be barely sixteen and passes us some menus, rambling on about what specials they are offering. Wade is much better at pretending to listen than I am.

Why has he brought me in here? Suddenly acting under the pretence that everything is fine. I stand by it, I mean it, regardless of what Wade thinks. My fingers are picking hard at the skin around my thumbnail. I will not willingly aid Jack. Regardless of what punishment ensues.

It will destroy the last few days. I ignore that dark thought, the one that pushes me back into bed beside him, the one that craves his touch, no matter the cause, no matter the circumstances.

The waitress is gone, and Wade pushes the second menu towards me. “I don't have any money.” I croaked, clearing my throat. “My treat.” He says blandly, scanning over the options. When the girl returns, her hair slightly neater I note, I'm no closer to having picked anything. I'm not hungry, too het up to eat, and sitting still is an effort. He looks at me, reads this, and orders for both of us, putting on a wide smile that makes the girl blush. I hate her a little just then.

Drinks arrive before either of us speak, and I suddenly realise just how thirsty I am, taking the glass and finishing it quickly. I run my tongue over my lower lip, savouring the moisture. “I'm not tricking Bruce.” He wishes I hadn't mentioned it, but I keep going, “I'm not going to help him. You can tell him whatever you like, I tried to run away, you did your best and I refused... Whatever.”

“Because he's known for being cool-headed and reasonable.”

“It's you.” I remind him, “He wants you around.”

“As much as he wants you?” Wade counters, with no malice this time. He's sipping what smells like coffee much more civilly, studying me again. I can only imagine how frantic I look. “I'm sorry for...”

“I don't want to hear it.”

“You're going to.” He demands, no room for argument. I shrivel up a bit further into the padding. “I'm sorry for a lot of stuff Elle.” His adams apple bounces hard, “I...I'm sorry,” he swallows hard again.

“For what?”

“Being a dick.”

“That's very broad.” I play with the glass just to give me some way to avoid looking at him.

“I shouldn't have said that.” He starts, “I shouldn't have.... mentioned Dr Quinzel, or pulled that stunt with the phone in the apartment or the door or...”

“If I say I accept your apology will you shut up?” The corner of his lips dart upwards quickly. I take several shallow breaths and even smile as the waitress brings over two burgers. Wade doesn't dig into his as I had imagined but instead looks even less interested than I am. I make the first step, pick up a fry and shovel it into my mouth. It's hard to chew, and there's no taste to it. This prompts him and another few minutes pass in a still uneasy silence. I manage most of the fries, and start shredding a lettuce leaf as I search for words, “What are you going to tell Jack?”

“Dunno.” He takes a big bite, the grease on the meat shining under the yellowing lights. “Nothing.” He decides once the burger is gone. I echo the word, how could we get away with silence? “No reason he needs to know it didn't happen. It wasn't...” He glances, guilty, “I don't...think it's as important as he wanted me to think.”

I realise exactly why I had been placed out of the way. “He's moving, isn't he? We're not staying in the same building.” The lines across his forehead give me the answer. “So, what was me ringing Bruce going to achieve? You were obviously blocking the call so he couldn't track it.” If Wade is surprised I'd figured this out he hides it well, “There's a trap somewhere, right?” Silence, “He hasn't told you?”

“You done?” I shrug, popping another lukewarm fry into my mouth. Wade mumbles that he needs to respond to a call. “Is it him?”

“No.”

“But you're going to lie to him?” I push again, “Tell him I did what you asked?” He chucks a few notes on the table, “Can I trust you to stay here until I come back?”

“Can I trust you at all?” I retaliate, a little satisfied by the hurt that flickers.

“Stay here Elle. Practise your game face.” The minute I hear the door go I stand, straight to the counter. “Do you have a bathroom?” The girl nods, pointing somewhere in the back corner.

“Brilliant, thank you.” I shoot her what I hope is a dazzling smile, “You don't happen to have a phone I can borrow quickly do you? Mine's dead.”

“Why can't you ask your boyfriend?” She asks a little testily, eyes glued on Wade's form.

“He's not my boyfriend.” I answer, pushing hair behind my ear, “He's my cousin, and he's got loads of business at the moment so that phone won't be leaving his hand. Please, you'd be doing me a massive favour?”

She agrees, pulling one from under the till. I thank her, quickly dialling for Bruce's penthouse again and slipping into the small bathroom.

Alfred answers and I cut him off quickly, “It's Eleanor, I'm fine. No, no, honestly I'm fine. The Joker and Crane are working together, I don't know what about. Tell Bruce, but don't come for me. I think there's a set-up. We're moving today I think, I don't know where. Please, Alfred, I need to go. Just tell him, be careful. I can't... Bye, bye.”

The phone goes straight into my pocket and I flush the toilet for good measure, rinsing my hands and dabbing some water on my cheeks. I feel a little manic again and control my breathing as I slip out. Wade is waiting, chatting to the waitress. I slip the phone back onto the counter when he's turned around and follow him out onto the street once again.

I'm not sure if I have played exactly into his hands or not.