Levity

Light was starting to filter in from the front of the van and we were lit dimly. I was still clutching the slightly damp rag in one hand, my face stiff. Wade had helped me clean off the blood but it was too late for the cold water to have much effect on the swelling. “How long do you need to keep me out of the way?”

He shrugged with a yawn. He was being quiet, unusual for him with his big old motor mouth. Especially since we were alone and far from Jack, well as far from Jack as I seemed to be allowed.

“Why...why are you here Wade? Why did you come back?”

“Come back?” This time he snorts, and twists to stare at me again. “Where do you think I could have gone Elle?” I almost flinch at the use of my nickname, it’s practically forbidden and I see us both recall the last time he’d called me it. He runs his hand over his jawline as if to wipe the memory, and the act, away. “I helped him get out.”

I feel my brow furrow, “I didn’t realise you were that loyal.” It sounds like an insult, and maybe to a degree it is. Wade was Jack’s closest ally, I got that. I couldn’t help but get that and somehow Wade had been the one to survive his turn and everything since fairly unscathed. He would have been a criminal anyway, he was a criminal anyway but Wade has this edge, this sense about him.

He wasn’t a bad man, he was a murderer, a thief, but he wasn’t a bad man. I know I had to be insane to think that. “You helped Nigma and Crane get out as well?” The words drip with venom.

“That wasn’t the original plan.” He admitted, shuffling slightly. I was uncomfortable too, my knees almost felt stuck so I pushed myself up stiffly and staggered around the small space. When I next speak I have my back purposefully to him. “Why?” There’s an early morning taste in my mouth now and my tongue feels a little fuzzy. When Wade doesn’t answer I spin regretfully, knowing my question is all but treason. “Why didn’t you just leave him in there?”

“Why did you decide to come and hunt him down?”

Wade is one of the only people I am used to be completely honest with, “I wish I knew.” He’s about to reply, and from the look on his face I know it’s news I don’t want to hear but he’s cut off when the cheap phone in his pocket vibrates loudly. He sighs but pulls it out, quickly checking the name before flipping it open.

I can hear a murmur but the words are indistinguishable and I tense my jaw, trying to decipher the looks flickering over Wade’s face. “Alright, yup.” He answers every few seconds before clicking the device shut. “Come on.”

“Come on what?” He rolls his eyes, leaning to place his arm around me.

“Come on let’s get you home.” I can’t even question him in time, again my mind is a flurry of possibilities. One stands out more than anything, especially with a mention of home. “Whose home? My home? My apartment?”

“No shit.” We don’t use the van, Wade flicks up the hood on his jacket and double checks my face again. No-one will question a black eye around here, but there’s still that fear of me being recognised so Wade, arm still around my shoulder, purposely points me away from any stragglers making their way home after a long night. There were plenty of women with tears in their eyes to match mine. I hated the Narrows with a passion. “No-one’s hurt Liam have they?”

He blows air harshly from his mouth, “As far as I’m aware Jac-“ He corrects himself automatically, “J doesn’t know about your little police-boy…”

“He’s not…”

“Keep it that way. You need to distance yourself from-“

“You think I don’t know that?” I spit, trying and failing to separate myself from him. “I have spent the last year trying…”

“Trying to what?” He manoeuvres us into a deep doorway. “No seriously Eleanor, what have you been trying so hard to do?” I’m not given any chance to reply, “Not move on surely. If you were trying to move on you wouldn’t have spent the year up Bruce Wayne’s ass. You wouldn’t still be living in Gotham. So don’t give me that utter shit that you’ve been trying to separate yourself from this, from us.” I don’t even try to defend myself, I just feel my eyes fill with spiteful tears, my body aching with tiredness, my still bare feet sore. “You’ve been waiting for him. Don’t fucking deny it!”

His voice had grown harder throughout his reprimand, and each single syllable was fair. I could never fight what he was saying because it was true. Utterly and completely true, my life was warped around a killer who hated me. We were all killers. There was a pause, it could have been before an apology which was a stature of Wade’s personality. It could have been more cruel words but I wasn’t going to wait for them and I kicked hard at the one place I knew I would hurt enough for him to let me go and as he doubled over I took my chance, weaving under his arm and out onto the alley. My feet were screaming and a mixture of the pain and the fear of causing a scene and drawing attention kept me walking so that within a few minutes Wade caught up with me; he kept his distance.

“What’s your plan now then?”

“Go away.”

“Oh sweetheart that hurts.” He rested his hand over his broad chest. Typically his sarcasm and wit was something I enjoyed but now I wanted nothing more than to shut his mouth in any way necessary. “Just leave me alone Wade.”

He acts as if I haven’t spoken, “So your plan is to what? Walk home barefoot half way across Gotham? That’s not the best plan I’ve ever heard, especially not if you intend on having any feet left. Although I’ guess if you leave now you should get to work on time.” I waved him away, struggling for some comeback and failing, my plan was little more than that.

“I’m fine thank you.” He smirked at my gritted teeth, drawing up closer to me. “Seriously Wade, go back to Jack.”

“Yeah, cause it will go down so well if I go back and tell him I just let you wander off.”

“Don’t tell him then.” We both know that’s not an option.

I draw to a stop at the edge of a road. I know full well I can’t really stroll the three odd miles home barefoot. Physically I could, although I’m sure I’ll need a trip to the hospital to remove whatever has wedged itself in the sole of my foot. But there’s too many chances of something happening now. I realise there’s no option but defeat.

“I need you to take me…”

“Home?” Wade perks up.

“That depends if home is safe. Maybe I should just leave Gotham…”

“Your apartment is fine. Your little buddy is fine, for now, I’ve told you.” He doesn’t mention my second sentence. We both know Jack would never allow it, or that he’d likely hunt me anyway. That could be best, it may anger him enough to just end it, end me. I doubted it would be quick, he had years of outrage and anger. The temptation has flared up multiple times throughout the last decade but I’ve never been able to go through with it. I was too much of a coward. I dig my nails deep into my dirty palms to keep me focused, “Just take me home Wade.”

He does and other than on the news I hear or see nothing of Wade or Jack for several days. They're nervous all over the city; several days free of Blackgate and the Joker has done nothing. Crane either, for that matter. The only hint of any of them were Nigma's riddles in his old workplace.

On the fifth day, I’m packing. Liam hasn’t brought any of the lies I’ve spouted and has been watching me like a hawk between his patrol shifts. Several small scale robberies and attacks were keeping him busy however and I was taking the opportunity. If I stayed here he was going to get hurt. That was a fact and it was not something I could stand to happen. I was wrong in so many ways but I refused to let him suffer.

It wasn’t like I had gathered much in the way of important possessions. I had loads of work clothes I had barely worn and I would be leaving them. I’d called Bruce the day after Wade left me at home with some excuse, apologised and assured him I was safe, that I was leaving Gotham to stay with imaginary family members. He seemed concerned but I’d handed my notice in further down the line of command and I was officially jobless. Free to mope around whilst my insides twisted with anxiety. I’d had enough of it and for once in my life I was following someone’s advice.

The fact that neither Jack nor Wade truly believed I was strong enough to leave could work in my favour.

I was going to New York, it wasn’t massively far away but it was another place for me to disappear. I’d get a good enough reference from Wayne Enterprises for some low ranking job somewhere. I hoped it would be far enough away for Jack just to leave me. I doubted it and a part of me knew it was a futile attempt. That dark part of me stung hard, taunting.

Without Jack I was nothing, had nothing; I was a shell, less than a shell.

I kept myself going though. I left a note for Liam, the number of a barely working mobile phone brought from a corner shop and I slipped on my jacket and backpack. I knew fair well that there was an undercover police office downstairs courtesy of Liam’s rightful paranoia. They weren’t hard to lose and within minutes I was dawdling at a bus stop, my deep inner pocket full of notes. I didn’t think anyone but Bruce would have the ability to track my card usage but I was being careful and had gotten a ridiculous amount of money out of the cash machine a couple of days ago to avoid leaving a trail for as long as possible.

Proud of myself I stepped back to allow an old woman on the bus ahead of me. I was certain I was being watched, from one side at least but I planned to get off the bus destined for the airport far earlier and instead slip onto another, maybe even changing more if I felt especially paranoid and heading to the smaller train station. All in all I was feeling pretty good when of course it had to go wrong.

Nothing happened to me directly but as the doors opened I saw the strained look on the drivers face, the sweat beading on his forehead. Then I saw the bag resting within his reach. Simple, a dufflebag with an odd little scribble on it in marker pen.

I should have yelled the instant I realised the bag held a bomb. I didn’t, I froze, I fell inside myself and let others mutter as they pushed past me and onto what would soon be a fireball.

“Miss?” It was the bus driver, or whoever was currently playing that role. He saw my eyes linger on the bag and allowed himself a small, albeit stressed smile. “We all have our parts to play.” Too late, as the doors were closing my mind and body finally clicked and I let out a yell.

The yell was smothered instantly by a hand.