#but I have precariously brought a trash can to be by my bedside in case

[1-ufo]

I am feeling so ill right now? Like headache and dizzy and nauseous

[experimentalmadness]

Visitation

More Harvey Dent and OC nonsense featuring my trash-fire of a character, Jacky Ripley. This is still set prior to any villain shenanigans on Harvey’s part, but only just. Jacky tries to sneak into the hospital to see him after the attack, but things go...wrong.

No real warnings, but a content check that an unstable character does refer to herself in less than great mental health terms.

---

It was late. It was raining—as usual. And she was making stupid choices on purpose.

The hospital looked like something out of a nightmare. Stark, backlit with a glowing fluorescent from the ER  driveway. Jacky was soaked through her jeans and sweater. Her hair was plastered to her face even with the hoodie up.

Cop cars littered the parking lot, lights flaring without sirens making it look like even more surreal.

Jacky couldn’t feel her feet, couldn’t feel her legs. Didn’t really notice as she approached the building. She couldn’t go inside. That clarity kept her grounded in only mild stupidity instead of outright suicidal idiocy. Scaling a building at 1am in the rain was not her favorite task, but she had done it countless times before for work.

She’d have to mount the ledges and sidle along the entire circumference.

She couldn’t ask which room he was in.

Miri told her she shouldn’t go. Couldn’t go.

Gilda had left ten messages on her phone since last week.

Jacky, I know I can’t ask…

Jacky, he would want….

Jacky, please answer….

Jacky rushed over to the bushes to vomit. Hands and knees, stomach cramping so hard and so sudden her back arched in pain. Her throat burned, her eyes watered. It tasted like the bottle of whiskey she had downed in earnest. Funny, she didn’t feel drunk. She felt more sober than she had in her entire life.

Climbing the hospital felt even more impossible now with her limbs shaking every which way. She could barely see through the rain. Just as she was psyching herself up to make the first jump even thought she’d probably miss, fall, and break even bone in her stupid body; she was hoisted off the ground by one leg. With a grunt that gave way to a dull scream, Jacky went flying upwards through the rain, shooting straight up to the roof. She bobbed precariously over the edge of the building, headfirst. Her first thought was this was certainly odd, the second was that if she died right now it would be quick.

“I’m surprised it took this long for Moroni to send someone to finish the job,” a grating voice growled at her in the darkness.

“I...who…?” she couldn’t see through the rain and shadow, and being held upside down certainly did not help. “I don’t work for Moroni.”

Something pushed her, causing her to spin round, facing the skylights. “Falcone then.” A shadow moved past the lights, and the voice spoke with authority. Whoever it was it knew her old boss. Age-old reflex made her anxious until Jacky remembered everyone in Gotham knew her boss now, and knew exactly who she really was. Three months out of prison was not long enough for people to forget the Ripper case.

But whoever this was, was no cop.

Jacky had an inkling. It did not comfort her.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

“The string of dismemberments at Flannigan’s begs to differ.”

How did he know about that? No one should know about that for the next five hours by her own calculations. She kept her mouth shut. He had no proof. Moroni’s men deserved it. She’d killed her career and put a price on her head in the same stroke, and she’d do it again. Jacky felt wild in a way she knew wasn’t the whiskey. She kept the crazy all shut in, but tonight it just had to come out. She’d made it hurt. She’d done it special; crazy only came out when Falcone wanted a message sent. This one was the first time she’d done a message all of her own.

“I wanted to see Harvey.” Crazy went right back into its box as she heard his name out of her own mouth, desperate, raspy, pathetic.

“Why?” The Batman jerked on the line keeping her suspended.

Because if she hadn’t told Harvey to stay away from her after her release from Blackgate she’d have known how in deep he was in going after Moroni. Because if she hadn’t bought into Harvey convincing her she still had a chance, that she could be a better woman, she wouldn’t have stopped working for Falcone and she could have heard about the hit. Because if she hadn’t lied in the first place she’d be a normal woman inside the hospital taking care of her friend. Because if she just had minded her own business the first day that stupid man had come into her shop she wouldn’t be here right now….

“I just wanna know how he is.”

“That line might have worked on the nurses, it won’t on me.”

“It’s the only line I got.”

Jacky was exhausted. She swung out and back from the roof to the abyss, her head going numb from being upside down so long. That was it then. Her grand plan to sneak into Harvey’s room, no muss no fuss, and back out was a bust. Batman didn’t make a move to haul in the line. She was sure he was going to drop her off in one of the cop cars below and tell the others to arrest her on trespassing, and hell, why not add murder to the list of offenses. No sense in being coy now.

“Is he dying?” Saying the fear out loud made her stomach cramp up again.

Silence from the Batman. He still thought she worked for Falcone. He still thought this was some play for ulterior information. He wasn’t going to believe her and he was right! He shouldn’t. She’d spent so much time lying and playing innocent shop girl no one should believe her ever again. And here was a fitting punishment. For the first time Jacky struggled on the line. The drop of crazy made her dizzy. It was only to be used for Miri’s sake, for the family, for money when she could make it work for them. “If he’s dying I just wanted to see him before...you don’t have to trust me. You can arrest me. I just need to know. Tell me...TELL ME, OR I’LL…”

“Or you’ll do what, Jacqueline?”

The sound of her full name gave her pause. Batman finally lowered her to the roof, cutting the cable and letting her fall in a shivering heap. She pulled herself to her feet, balling her cold hands into fists. “I’ll make it hurt.” Now that, assuredly, was the whiskey talking.

But it was going to hurt. She hoped it did. She deserved it.

Jacky winced when, instead of a punch, a hand descended on her shoulder. The strength of the grip was frightening. It rooted her in place, but offered no violence. “He’s not dying, Jacquline.”

“Oh, that’s good,” was all she managed before she burst into tears.

The hand on her shoulder was all that prevented her from giving way and sinking to the floor. Harvey wasn’t going to die. Things could still be okay. She’d be going back to Blackgate, but that was where she belonged anyway, no point in running from it. She could write to him in prison, but she wouldn’t. Because she was a coward in her core.

“S-sorry. Thank you. You can arrest me now,” she sniffed, straightening, looking up directly into the masked eyes of the Batman.

“Come with me.”

The hand never moved from her shoulder as she was shoved along. Batman booted open the roof access hatch and forced her down into the stairwell. Everything echoed inside. The rain falling off her clothes, her skin, plinking onto the metal stairs. The thick boots the Batman was wearing in lock step with her own, softer, sneakered tred. And he never said another word, just marched her down flight after flight. Around and around.

Back to prison. Miri would be so upset. She had forgiven her once, Jacky doubted she would a second time. She had tried to be a good sister, the little double act she had between their shared bakery and her night errands for Falcone had only been for her sake. But this city beat most people down eventually and Jacky knew at some point the killing hadn’t really ever been just a paycheck had it?

At least Gotham hadn’t claimed Harvey. It had tried. He’d still show them. That was enough to live with. She hoped Gilda would be alright. Maybe she could sneak one quick phone call to at least tell her how sorry she was she had stayed away. The DA and his wife shouldn’t be seen in the company of a convicted killer. She had just been trying to help. She’d only ever just wanted to help.

The white light of the hospital blinded Jacky for a moment, but Batman kept her moving. Nurses and doctors parted in quiet shock as they made their way through. No one was going to argue with the Batman, especially not when he was holding a perp. The brand of killers he brought in were on another level far beyond her. Maybe she should feel flattered. Mostly she just felt tired.

They stopped at a door, that grip tightening to levels that made Jacky grind her teeth. “If you try to make a break for the window,” he growled. “You’ll be caught before you hit the ground.”

“What?”

He opened the door, shoving her inside, releasing her. She could feel him still in the darkened room. This was not an arrest. There were no cops in here. Just the steady beep of a heart monitor and…

“Harvey?”

For a man who always made life feel so much larger than it actually was it was so much harder to see him lying in the small hospital bed than Jacky had anticipated. She waited for some trick from the Batman, turning back to face him. He only stood in the shadows, watching. She allowed herself to move towards the bed.

Gauze and mesh covered the left half of his face, his neck, and his arm. She knew the extent of the attack from the news. There would be scars. And that was the best news ever, because scars meant he’d be alive.

She jumped when he shifted on the bed. Jacky hadn’t counted on him being awake. She didn’t want him to see her! She backed up into the dark. “Jacky?”

His voice was not his own. Maybe the acid had damaged his vocal chords.

Caught, she stood in limbo between the bedside and the door. “Hey.”

“How did...you get...in?”

“Light breaking and entering. I...I didn’t mean to disturb you. I know I shouldn’t have come, but…” If she cried again, warning or no warning, she was going to throw herself out that window.

“Shut up,” he snapped, grabbing her hand. “I’m glad to...see...you.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I don’t think I can stay long, my escort won’t let me,” she gestured back to the moving shadows behind her. “But you’re gonna heal up fine.” This was the part where she was supposed to say she was grateful he wasn’t dying, or dead. Where she said because he was the most important friend in her life and losing him was unfathomable. But she didn’t.

“Doctors...won’t let me see. It’s...not good...is it?”

“Think how intimidating you’re gonna look in court. You’ll win by default.”

A gurgling, raspy, laugh was her only reward. “Think you can...stay?” His hand gripped her tighter and Jacky almost wanted to tear herself in half.

“Don’t think my escort is gonna let me, Harv. I...I did something bad tonight. I’ll probably be back in Blackgate by the time you get out of here. And I’m sorry. I let you down.” She could feel him staring at her. His one good eye, searching hers, that grip pulling her closer.

“What did you do?”

The grip on her hand turned into a claw, nails digging into flesh so hard it hurt. He didn’t sound angry, and she didn’t stop him. “Got some of Moroni’s guys. It was worse than what you brought me up for. I’m sorry, Harvey, but they deserved it. I only wanted—”

“Payback.”

The pain medication was what made him sound so cold. Just the drugs making him a little confused.  Even in the dark she could see the outline of a smile that was and was not his.

“Jacky, we always knew...there was a reason...we liked you.”