16 Works in 514A & Bruce Wayne
Listing Works
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Summary
514A comes to visit to apologize, but things go a little differently
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,092
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 158
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Summary
As Five was busy examining his knuckles to make sure there was no damage he couldn’t feel, Lucy came outside and lit a cigarette. She was as elegant and composed as ever, her dark skin radiant in the sliver of moonlight that reached the alley. She sighed and turned to Five.
“I’m about to ask a favor, Mx. Monroe,” she said. “I expect you to refuse, because it’s not in your contract. But this patron has me at wits’ end.”
“The one who just got out of Arkham?” Five asked hesitantly.
“The one who just escaped from Arkham,” Lucy corrected.
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Bruce scowled at [Jerome], as brazen as ever. “Whoever you are, you’re pretending to be Jerome.”
“Did somebody hit you over the head before I came along?” Jerome asked, almost worried.
“Why?” Bruce asked, his scowl fading. Now, he just looked confused—but, oddly, not scared.
“Not only are you under the impression I’m not me,” Jerome said, “but also that you’re not you.”
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Summary
Jerome gets bored and decides to make a group chat with Gotham's worst villains.
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Bruce realized he’d been skirting the edge of anxious hysteria ever since he’d regained consciousness. He studied the state of Jeremiah’s hair, glasses, and clothes a second time. The dishevelment indicated distress, possibly even a struggle.
Even worse, Bruce remembered coughing. His throat felt raw, like he’d been shouting.
“I don’t think the gas knocked us out immediately,” he admitted with trepidation.
“Oh,” Jeremiah said, tilting his head as if perplexed at Bruce’s words. “It didn’t.”
Series
- Part 3 of Disintegration
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Two shots later, there was absolute, eerie silence in the diner. The jukebox had run out.
Jerome uncurled himself, flopping flat on his back. He dragged in several harsh breaths, wincing at the scorching sting that still consumed his tongue, lower lip, neck, and chest. His burns had to be second degree at least.
The intruder was standing over him, head tilted. They still had the gun in their hand and…huh. Didn’t even seem fazed by what they’d just done.
“Spoil my fun, why doncha,” Jerome choked, struggling to sit up. “I was gonna do that myself.”
“They would’ve killed you before you had the chance,” said the intruder. “You’re welcome.”
Series
- Part 2 of Disintegration
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“Whatever the hell this is about, it had better be good,” [Valerie] said. “Can’t we go talk in the park?”
Bruce shoved his hands in his pockets as they strolled across the plaza. “Yes, but it’s urgent.”
Valerie gazed a short distance ahead, her restless eyes tracking shadows. “Jerome’s alive, isn’t he?”
“I’m afraid so,” Bruce admitted. “It’s why the casket was empty. That’s not the only thing.”
Series
- Part 11 of Playing for Keeps
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He doesn’t even realise that the moon has risen high in the sky, casting its silvery light over the land, until the sound of footsteps approaching makes him twitch, head jerking around to find Thomas bathed in pale moonlight. He blinks, once; the action mirrored by the other teen. “What are you doing out here?” he says; voice coming out slightly raspy, and he considers the fact that he may be somewhat dehydrated.
Thomas shrugs; the motion suddenly, painfully reminiscent of his father. Perhaps that’s why, when Thomas says, “You’ve been gone for hours. Alfred was worried about you. I...was also worried about you,” he laughs; high and sharp.
“You have no reason to be,” he says; and then, perhaps unkindly, “you’re not my father.”
Series
- Part 2 of ravenverse
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“Five had what you might call too much excitement for one morning,” Jerome said, producing the cufflink out of thin air. “Anybody recognize this?”
“Sure do,” [Ecco] said, knocking back what was left of her whiskey. “I took those off your dead ass after kickin’ you out of the coffin. Mostly for shits an’ giggles, but also in case J wanted some kinda trophy.” She huffed apologetically. “I regret it now that I know ya. Happy?”
Ivy thwapped [Ecco]’s arm with a stack of napkins. “Jeez, genius, what do you think?”
“Eh, what’s a plundered grave between future friends,” Jerome said, resting one elbow against the bar. “Only trouble is, the other one wasn’t—” he drew the satin bag from his pocket and slapped it on the bar “—in here.”
[Ecco] instantly dumped out the bag and picked through the tangled chains and rings, frowning.
“Who the fuck broke a couple of these?” she asked, shaking the chains at Jerome. “I liked ’em!”
Jerome sighed, feigning regret. “I liked my cufflinks, but this why we can’t have nice things.”
Series
- Part 7 of Configured Stars
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“Who’s there?” [Bruce] asked, hopefully loud enough for the perpetrator to hear him and respond.
“That was fun while it lasted,” Jeremiah sighed dramatically, pulling the covers over his head.
“I guess Barbara wasn’t lying the night you two got us into this mess, was she? Get dressed!”
Bruce couldn’t believe Oswald had gone to the trouble of harassing them in person. He got out of bed, gathering their clothing from where they’d draped it over the room’s lone armchair the night before. Jeremiah made a pitiful noise when Bruce dropped his things on top of his head.
“If it was anyone else,” Bruce said, stumbling into his bottom layers, “I’d suggest taking our time. He’s going to hold us accountable for everything from the bridges to Jerome and Five.”
“Hold me accountable, you mean,” Jeremiah shot back, kicking off the covers. He moodily gathered his clothes off the floor, dressing at a slower pace. “I’m a dead man.”
Series
- Part 6 of Configured Stars
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When they approached the back entrance to Celestial Garden, the team standing guard didn’t know what to do. Jerome supposed that a dead man and a masked stranger with their guns out and hands in the air weren’t a common sight even in this hellscape.
“I told you,” Five repeated after about a minute of several guns being pointed at them. “Jeri knows me. I used to work at the Foxglove. And I shouldn’t have to explain Jerome.”
“Oh, but you should explain why he isn’t dead,” said a voice behind them. “Also, kid, I don’t know you. Just ’cause maybe I’ve seen you before doesn’t make us best friends.”
“Look, I already said this on TV the first time,” Jerome scoffed. “Being dead is the worst.”
“So you just…don’t stay dead?” Jeri asked, pushing back her balaclava. “Don’t look shocked. I came around from the front. No magic tricks here.”
Jerome patted himself down and shrugged. “I mean, seems that way. I feel pretty real to me.”
Series
- Part 5 of Configured Stars
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Summary
“Jerome, stop,” Bruce was saying, pinning him even harder. “You need to come down with us.”
Jeremiah put all of his weight into the endeavor, too. Jerome was trapped, but pleased to note that he’d split Jeremiah’s lip with one of his blows.
“It’s worth your while,” muttered Jeremiah, with a bored, aggravated affect. “Trust us.”
“Ha! As far as I can throw you!” Jerome raged, succumbing to bitter, terrible laughter.
They manhandled Jerome down the stairs. After two flights, it wasn’t worth fighting anymore. One foot in front of the other, ever downward.
Once they were out the back, into the alley behind the club, Bruce and Jeremiah released him.
The sedan was parked there, visibly damaged. Something had bashed the vehicle’s roof in.
Series
- Part 40 of Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed
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Summary
“Where were you the night we turned nine?” Jerome demanded, viciously bitter. “When he decided beating just on Mom wasn’t enough?”
Jeremiah swallowed, finally nervous, glance flicking down to the shard’s point. “Hiding.”
“Bingo,” Jerome said, grinning so wide it hurt. “You were always great at that, weren’t you?”
“That’s the night I decided I had to leave,” Jeremiah replied, unable to remain dispassionate.
“Yeah,” Jerome agreed. “A year later, you did. Would it have been so hard to take me along?”
Series
- Part 36 of Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed
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“Hey, if it isn’t everybody’s favorite limey,” Harvey said, rolling down the driver’s side window.
Jim leaned forward enough to peer outside with a frown. “Alfred,” he said. “Merry Christmas.”
“Same,” Alfred agreed, proffering the cups until each had taken one. “Mind if I join you?”
“You mean in the car?” Harvey asked, slurping his eggnog. “Whooo-eee. Nope.”
Once they’d grudgingly unlocked the vehicle, Alfred opened the back door and slid in.
“What brings you to this evening’s festivities?” Alfred asked, already knowing the answer.
“Personally?” Jim countered. “The lack of an invitation. Professionally? The entire guest list.”
Series
- Part 35 of Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed
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“You can’t bring that in,” Bruce said, nodding at the shotgun propped over Jerome’s shoulder.
“What?” Jerome asked, hoping his feigned bewilderment was convincing. “I brought it along in case shooting clay pigeons is on the agenda. Isn’t that what rich folks do?”
Alfred grasped the shotgun’s barrel and yanked it away from Jerome. “Not these ones, I’m afraid.”
“Five,” Bruce sighed, eyeing him warily up and down, “I don’t want to have to confiscate—”
“You’re a buzzkill,” Five said, but he drew the Ladysmith and pulled the knives from his boots.
Series
- Part 34 of Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed
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Summary
Abruptly, Jerome considered the full picture. Five, if he were wearing a mask and had his long, dark hair messily upswept like he did now, wouldn’t obviously be a young man. He wouldn’t be anything—except oddly beautiful, which was hard to accept.
“You’re staring,” Five said, with an edge of defensiveness. “I don’t like it when people stare.”
Jerome rolled his eyes, amused again. “That makes two of us, precious. I don’t let on, though.”
Five scowled more fiercely than Bruce did on his worst days. “Why do you keep calling me—”
“Because you’re adorable,” Jerome said. “You’re like, what, a hundred-and-thirty-pound killing machine with hair that’d make a Disney princess jealous? Look at yourself.”
Five just stared at him, briefly chewing his lower lip. “I don’t like to. I bet you don’t, either.”
Series
- Part 33 of Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed