Wasteland • Gotham Fanfiction •

XXXII: Don't Say I Didn't Warn You

"Doubt is an uncomfortable condition, but certainty is a ridiculous one." - Voltaire

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Butch looked from all the hospital machinery down to Tabitha's face.

Reaching out, he trailed a hand down the side of her face, sadness filling his heart at how off-color her skin appeared.

She'd lost a lot of blood and spent the last several hours in surgery.

Somehow she'd managed to pull through, but now she was in a coma and when Butch had asked when she'd wake up -he'd been told it wasn't a matter of when, it was more a matter of if.

If she'd wake up at all.

"Why'd you have to go and be brave, huh?" He asked, his fingertips trailing over the familiar feel of her skin and the soft hair on her arm as he moved to hold onto her hand, "I just got used to you being around. Partners, right?"

The doctor had told him that talking to her could increase the likelihood of her waking up.

Give her something to hold onto and find her way back.

Only he was at a loss of what to say.

"How..." His voice shook, "How am I supposed to keep people in line now, huh? I don't think I can do this without you."

Tears welled up in his eyes, "You're one of the only people in the world who looks me in the eye when they talk to me, you know that? You laugh at my jokes. You actually like the way I look. I didn't think I'd ever feel like this again."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I... I..." He grew too choked up to talk anymore.

Tears started to run down his cheeks and he lowered his head, resting it on her shoulder as his tears started to soak into the hospital gown they'd dressed her in.

"Well don't stop now. I was just getting misty."

Jerking his head up, Butch wiped his face and glared at Oswald who'd been silently standing in the room for several minutes now. "What are you doing here?"

"Paying my respects." Oswald smiled, displaying the bouquet of flowers he'd picked up in the gift shop on his way up to the room.

Hobbling over to the foot of Tabitha's bed, he laid the flowers down on the table and commented, "She's looked better. I must say..."

"You will not hurt her." Butch spoke in a domineering tone.

He wasn't about to let anything else happen to the woman who'd made him feel alive again.

"Why would I do that?" Oswald questioned, feigning a look of wonder before going, "Oh, I know! Could it be because she shot Bird and nearly killed her, or hmm, because she stabbed my mother in the back!"

Butch drew his gun at Oswald's outburst.

He'd always been unpredictable.

While he was working under Oswald, he'd seen him flip and beat his own employees to within an inch of their lives for delivering him bad news on several occasions.

Aiming the gun right between the shorter man's eyes, Butch threatened, "If you touch her-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Bird called out as she walked into the room. Her eyes narrowing at Butch as she saw the weapon he had within a few inches of her best friend's face, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Bird!" Oswald called out, "There you are."

Up until just a few moments prior, he'd believed she'd been right behind him, but apparently something had side tracked her on the way from the gift shop up to the fourth floor of the hospital.