"Please, there's really no reason for this."
"You're absolutely right, y/n!" Jerome laughed, pointing his index finger as a gun at you, "That's the thrill of it; there really is no reason for me to do this."
"Then let me go. You just said so yourself - you don't need to do this,"
Jerome grinned, opening his mouth to begin talking, until Greenwood began his descent down the marble steps in the bank.
"The cops are on their way," He informed the ginger.
"Excellent."
You looked out to the glass doors in front of you, hopelessly searching for any signs of flashing red and blue lights. You subtly struggled against the restraints on your wrists, but it was no use.
"Get comfortable," Jerome said, prodding your shoulder with the muzzle of his gun. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a black box with a red button. A detonator. "It's gonna get a lot hotter in here later on." Jerome stated, glancing fascinatingly at the crates of explosives.
You gulped, repeating the action you had performed so many times that night. Your nails were creating crescents in your palm as you balled them into firm fists, your heart thudding in your chest. I'm never working the night shift again. You thought. You know what? I'm quitting. Sorry, Sarah.
Jerome pulled back his sleeve, revealing his pale wrist and a shiny watch wrapped around it. "Just a couple more minutes, now." He announced. Greenwood gave a hoot of joy. Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead like hot needles.
"What are we waiting for?"
"The go-ahead."
"From who?"
"I can't tell you that." Jerome answered. "Obviously."
You pushed further. "Am I going to die tonight?"
Jerome tilted his head, with pursed lips. "You ask a lot of questions."
You bit your lower lip. This guy was impossible to negotiate with. He had no drive, no motivation. As far as you could tell, Jerome did this purely for the fun of it. And that scared you.
You could hear distant sirens, growing ever closer. Shit, do they know about all these explosives? You thought frantically. What will the radius of the explosions be? How many people are gonna get hurt?
You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself.
"Don't go falling asleep on me now, y/n." Jerome said, kneeling down in front of you. He was grinning.
You didn't find this funny.
You leaned to the right. You looked through the glass windows - at the marble steps. The police should be here any minute now. They'd help you.
Jerome frowned, then spun around to look at what you were staring at. "There's no one where, by the way."
"I know." You answered.
Jerome rose, then waved behind you. "Greenwood! Go secure the station outback."
Your eyebrows furrowed. What were they planning here? Well, you knew that - they were gonna blow up the bank - but what is the station?
"A'ight." Greenwood replied, and you heard his footsteps leave the room.
"Finally," Jerome breathed. "Some alone time." He crouched down in front of you. "That guy is weird."
"Look who's talking." You replied.
Jerome grinned, almost reluctantly. "That was pretty funny. I feel proud."
Maybe it was overwhelmingness, the intensity and fear coursing through your body, but you actually had to stop yourself from smiling. You scolded yourself internally.
The sirens had gotten louder.
As if on cue, several police cars zoomed onto the street outside the bank - right in front of you. The bank became splashed in red and blue lights, as officers piled out there doors and examined the situation.
They could see you - you were certain - but could they see the explosives? If they came in here, Jerome would surely blow the whole thing up.
How were you getting out of this?
Questions, questions. None of them you knew the answer to.
Jerome was behind you, hidden in the darkness. You peered up at the single light above you: a small spotlight on your seat.
Your heart raced in your chest. All of a sudden, there was a loud bang. You heard the familiar, "GCPD! Step away from the girl!"
You tried to twist to see what was happening. Your hands just wouldn't budge.
Jerome stepped into your view, just at the side of you. He made sure to stay away from the glass doors. Smart. You watched him carefully.
"I'd stay back, Jimbo." Suddenly, several lights flickered on in the room, revealing the crates of explosives. He wiggled the detonator in his hand. "Wouldn't want me to accidentally trip, or something."
"You don't have to do this, Jerome."
"I've already heard that once tonight. It didn't stop me the first time, and it won't stop me the second!"
"Jerome, this is suicide."
The ginger shrugged. He looked to his side, at the detonator.
"Robert Greenwood has already been detained. You can join him - and nobody has to get hurt." Jim Gordon informed him. His voice was calm, steady.
Jerome grinned a wide, gruesome smile. Just witnessing the movement in his face made you shiver. "Oh no, not Greenwood!" He cried, holding a dramatic hand to his face. "What a shame."
Jerome was slowly making his way towards the double doors to the right of him. He took a large step backwards, his finger resting on the trigger.
"Jerome, don't move!"
Jerome continued, slowly, He kept his arm outstretched, so Gordon could see what was at stake here. "I think I'm gettin' a cramp," Jerome confessed, shaking his arm about theatrically. You held your breath.
He carried on with his gradual escape.
"Stay where you are. A lot of lives are gonna be lost if this place goes up, Jim." Jerome warned, his voice cold. "All those officers out there. You could probably name them all. Probably got kids, some of 'em. Think o' the kids."
"Your life would be lost too." Jim reminded the crazed youth. "You don't want that. Don't forget that."
Jerome cocked his head to the side. "And the poor hostage over here." He brought the attention to you, and you averted your gaze. Jerome waggled his fingers at you enthusiastically.
Jim hesitated.
Jerome was already by the door, the detonator still firmly grasped in his palm. He gave a dramatic bow. "Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen." He gave a two fingered salute to an invisible audience. Jerome looked to you, his grin still wide. "It's been fun, but I'd really best get going." With a wink, he flew out the door.
You heard something unclasping. "Evacuate and secure the perimeter. Valeska is on the run, but he can still detonate the explosives at any time." You heard the rush of feet, and then rough hands were untying your own from behind your back.
"Thank you," you choked, your own relief overwhelming you.
"Quick," Jim ordered, heaving from the seat. You both ran to the double doors, and were met with the cold night air.
*****
The sound of sirens and maniacal laughter were just a memory of the past - but now you were met with several determined reporters trying to ask you questions about what happened with the infamous Jerome Valeska.
"Where were you taken from?"
"What happened in there?"
"Why did he choose you?"
You had no idea how to answer that last one.
"We found this in a dumpster." Jim Gordon informed you, coming to stand beside you on the ambulance.
A warm blanket was draped across your shoulders, although it was doing nothing to unsettle the cold you felt in your bones. Several nurses had assessed you, and you were fit to go until Jim Gordon talked to you. So you had waited.
Jim presented a small black box in his hand. You frowned. "Why would Jerome just dump the detonator in the trash?"
"It's not real."
"What?"
"It's fake." Jim clarified. "A toy."
You gulped. Why would Jerome go through all that trouble to not even finish with his plan? You looked to Jim. "What about the explosives?"
"They were real - but there was nothing to connect them to a detonator. We don't think Jerome intended to even blow the bank up."
You pursed your lips. You knew better than to question Jerome Valeska, now. Perhaps his only real intent was to get rid of Greenwood. Well, he'd succeeded.
You were kinda happy about that. (Which was pretty fucked up, because you weren't supposed to root for the guy who pretended he was gonna blow you into smithereens. Usually.)
"We were wondering if you knew what his plan was."
You shook your head. "No, he didn't tell me anything. He just said he would blow up the bank."
But he didn't. And the fact that he never even intended to was worrying.
*****
shady's back,,,
anyways this is super short bc i felt bad for not updating in 84 yrs so.. well here u go. its the holidays and im rly bored so im gonna try and write some chapters for this and maybe my other work manical ;-)
super sorry for going AWOL lmao