Devil's Playground • Gotham Fanfiction •

XXIV - An Alcoholic Walks into a Bar

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Dwight cringed from the sound as Jerome started to staple his own face back on.

Another squish of the flesh being pushed together, the crunch of the staple gun, which was surely causing metal to scrap against bone -and the noises Jerome kept making with each new staple added in an attempt to reattach his face.

A mostly painful sound?
Dwight couldn't tell for sure, but the other thing he was very aware of was Bird moving closer to him.

Taking advantage of Jerome being distracted, she moved in.

"Hello."
Bird smiled at him.

Dwight stood in place side-eyeing her, as he nervously greeted, "Hi...Bird..."

She glanced over at Jerome who had his back to them now, spinning around as he continued the excruciating process of putting his face back on his body.

"Do you have a phone on you?" She questioned.

"No..." He answered, swallowing hard as she stepped even closer, "The police took it."

When he refused to fully look at her and kept his body angled towards the direction where Jerome was, Bird stepped in his way to block his view.

"So what's next?" Her brows raised at just how nervous he was and she found herself wondering how he ended up being the leader of the cult, "Is your group planning on going after anyone else in particular?"

"I, uh..." He shifted on his feet. Another cringe with a loud crack of a staple that sent Jerome doubling over in pain, "I don't know what you're-"

"Really?" Bird laughed, "This morning you sent two of your second rate men to try and kidnap me."

"Sorry." Dwight shifted again. His eyes darting around. Very rodent like.

"You should be." Bird still had a smile on her face but it was one of the most unfriendly expressions he'd ever encountered, "It was insulting. You really thought they'd get the best of me?"

"You're dead, Dwight." Bird stated with a flippant single shoulder shrug, "Jerome told me so on the way to the news station. Think about it-" She breathed, "I'm your best chance at making it out of here alive. Jerome likes me -and you're nothing to him."

Her voice lowered, "One more chance to be honest. Who else was the cult planning on going after?"

Dwight looked past Bird to where Jerome was.
It was a mistake cutting off his face. I
n fact, it was near instant regret.

But at the time he didn't think the resurrection had worked and he'd promised everyone they'd see Jerome's face in person.

"Not so much individual people." Dwight admitted, "More like locations... City Hall... GCPD..."

"What about Bruce Wayne?" She pushed.

"No-"

"If you're lying to me-" She started to threaten, but he cut her off with a whisper-yell, "We all had different jobs. Mine was to bring Jerome back. I don't know if they're going after your brother."

"Hey!" Jerome yelled, startling them both, "What are you crazy kids whispering about?"

Before either of them could answer, Jerome swished his hand through the air.
An eraser wiping a chalkboard clean.

"How does it look?" Jerome questioned, turning his head slowly from side-to-side.

"Good..." Dwight sounded like the breath he was letting out was painful, prickling his airways. Thorns lodging into tissue. "Good... looks... good."