Multiplicity

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

Five minutes is all it takes. She wanders out into the hallway in search of coffee. When she returns, her midnight patient is gone. The bed is empty. The sheets are twisted and forgotten. The IV dangles, dripping its contents out onto the floor. She stands there in the doorway, staring in disbelief.

Her sleep deprived brain struggles to comprehend the facts. When she left, the Joker was unconscious. His tortured and mutilated body would not have permitted him to move with the speed needed to leave the surgical suite. Someone must have helped him. Or someone must have taken him.

There's only one person she knows who can move that fast.

Another sensation begins to build right along side the acid burn in her stomach. It's a knot. Pure, unadulterated anger. He brought her a patient to care for, regardless of her feelings. He brought her the man who killed Alfred. He expected she do everything possible to save the Joker. He removed that patient without her permission. From her clinic.

Twenty minutes later, she once again lets herself into the Manor. She bypasses the house and makes a beeline for the cave. There isn't an ounce of fear amidst the rage.

Comments

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

For a shockingly long moment, his words make sense. What does she have left?

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

The dummy in the case speaks up from nearby. "Look, it's simple arithematic! Ya use food to stay alive, but ya give nothin' back! The food you eat could save someone else's life. Am I right, Dummy, or am I right?" He casts his gaze towards the Scarecrow.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

And the Scarecrow is now the man who attempted to mug her the other day, his neck crushed. He holds a wooden dummy of Alfred in his hands, holes riddling it where the Joker shot the real man. Termites crawl in and out of these holes.

The man speaks, stuttering as he trembles and coughs blood, his body showing clear signs of withdrawal. "Y...yeah, man. If you'd just g...given me the money, I... I would have gotten a...way. The Batman never would h...have hurt me. If you just g...give up, it makes it b...better for everyone."

He makes the Alfred dummy speak, and sawdust dribbles from its mouth as it talks in a faux-British accent, the best the junkie can fake.

"Oi, Leslie! D...do you know wh...why I died? Not because the Joker sh...shot me... but because of your hands. You can't hold them steady, can you? Trembling hands... y...you were too inept to save a man's l...life. To inept to save my life."

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

She glances down at her hands and as if on cue, they begin to shake. "No," she protests. Her hands are the tools of her trade. Without a steady pair, she isn't long for the profession.

What if her hands did shake as she tried to save Alfred's life? Could she be partially responsible for his death? She forces her memory for an answer. There's no recollection beyond her own remorse.

The anger returns. She lashes out, swiping the puppet for its master's grasp. The riddled wood flies and hits the cavern floor. It shatters into a multitude of pieces. The termites flee as if rats from a sinking ship.

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, that's right! Just like that, ya dumb bimbo! Your hands shook, and shattered the butler to pieces!"

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

The mugger is Bane now, his drug tubes infected and burrowing through him as she watches. "There is but one solution, senorita. Accept it."

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

She jerks her head towards the miniature gangster. Her expression is harsh and unforgiving. "I did everything I could! There wasn't enough time!"

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

"You did everything... but save his life. But keep your hands steady." Killer Croc is in the place of Bane now, his skin flaking and peeling in bloody clumps.

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

"Face it... you haven't improved anything. You've only made things worse... when you're effective at all."

Zsasz now, all his tally marks open and bleeding.

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

Her fists curl reflexively. "I can't save them all! No one can!"

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

"Can you save any of them? Any of the people you really care about?"

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

"You couldn't save Spoiler."

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

"You couldn't save Jason."

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

"You couldn't save Alfred."

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

"And you couldn't save Bruce."

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

The bile rises from her stomach and she nearly chokes on the anguish. The unrelenting voices fill her head. You couldn't save them... You couldn't... Save them, Leslie. Save them.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

They're shifting too quickly now, mixing from one to another.

"You couldn't save them..."
"Leslie..."
"...couldn't save..."

An image of the Penguin. An image of the Riddler. An image of Ra's al Ghul. They come faster and faster, a kalidoscope of criminals and madmen.

"One way out, Leslie..."
"Give in..."
"...useless woman..."

A blur of unrecognizeable faces, thugs and crimelords, costumed madmen and sociopaths.

"Surrender..."

The cacophony of voices raises to a fever pitch, into a maddening chant...

"Surrender..." "...(useless)..." "Give up..." "...can't save anyone..." "Leslie..."

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

She throws her hands over her ears and cries out in a sound that embodies every last ounce of her soul felt misery.

"NO!!!"

It bounces off the walls of the cave and echoes into eternity.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

The cave is empty.

The cage holds a corpse, its bleach-white skin and green hair stained with spatters of crimson blood.