Nightwing: Heartless

Part 57: Captive V

Well, they didn't want her to die from infection. Every day her wounds were cleaned, until most had healed and the 'J' had scabbed over. Willa's heart sank when she was sure it would scar. She would die branded by the Joker. Other than her cut treatments, her days were quiet. The Shadow brought her food and water, never spoke to her, then left. It was as close to a vacation she could expect. But the nightmare came back.

It was the Joker that opened the door. Willa cowered as he slunk in, grinning like a madman, something in his hand. He probably came to carve the rest of her up, she had seen enough of his victims to know it was his favorite way to kill.

"Sh," he bent down as she tried to press herself into the wall and disappear, "it's alright." He gently took her wrist and pulled it out, exposing her arm, "we've been working on a little concoction for a while now. Your boyfriend's been more than a pain the ass about delaying it."And then he pressed a syringe into her arm.

Her vision tunnelled until she could only see the flower on his lapel, and then everything went red. The burning started in her arm then travelled. She was being burned from the inside out.

She couldn't get away. She couldn't see past the pain. When she was on fire she rolled but it was no use. She screamed like she never had before. Maybe if she screamed the pain would float out of her mouth.... it was too much...

Her vision slowly returned as the pain faded to a dull thud, the drug working its way out of her system. Tears stained her face but she didn't remember crying.

This was how Deathstroke found her. He looked at her with something like pity. He also wrinkled his nose at the smell. "Are you ready to talk?" She couldn't speak. Her throat was too swollen. Deathstroke chuckled, "I'll have to tell Joker how well his new serum worked."

That's right, Willa thought, he injected me with something. Was the pain really all in her head? She flexed her fingers and toes, still attached to her body. But the pain was real, her mind and body screamed with it. "What..." it came out a rasp, barely audible.

"A combination of Joker, Scarecrow, and some less stable elements. You're the first that lived through it."

Yay me, Willa thought dryly. Well, her sense of humor hadn't been tortured out of her. A laugh bubbled in her chest. How could she find anything funny? Maybe she had lost her mind. A smile cracked her lips and she did laugh. An ugly sound.

"Sh...tell me what I want to know or I'll give you another dose."

Willa hiccupped a sob, "no Please."

**

No one talked to her anymore, not even Deathstroke. Willa's only grace was that she suspected he had given up the hope she knew anything about Nightwing.

When the familiar young Shadow walked through her cell door she noticed the difference in routine but she didn't react. He pulled her up, practically carrying her. He paused before stepping over the doorway. Willa could feel his muscles tense as he scooped her legs up, now fully carrying her. It was a small gift, someone taking her weight, but she turned her head into his neck and closed her eyes anyway. His arms around her were the most comfortable thing she had laid on in ages and the feel of someone wrapped around her, even in a faux protection, felt so good. She could pretend he was someone else holding her.

Willa stayed in the daydream as long as she could, curling into the Shadow's arms through the halls until he stopped walking and gently set her down, another kindness. But then he was gone, his warmth retreating.

"So you're the girl my puddin' can't shut up about," a shrill voice broke her out of her reverie. Willa had to blink a few times to get used to the yellow light and then to focus her eyes on Harley Quinn. The clown princess stood over her, hands on hips, bottom lip out. "Well, whatcha gotta say for yourself?"

Willa just looked around slowly. Deathstroke slightly behind her, Harley Quinn in front, the Joker behind her and... Catwoman behind him? She shrugged mentally, maybe she would pull her nails out. She didn't make eye contact with any of them, she knew her place, a crumpled heap on the floor, being humiliated by a human harlequin.

"Hm?" Harley pressed and bent at the waist to get in Willa's face. When Willa didn't answer, Harley spun on a toe like a dancer but brought her foot down across Willa's face, sending her sprawling. "Doesn't look like much," Harley muttered as Joker wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"She's nothing compared to you, Harley."

Willa coughed, but stayed on the ground. What was the point of sitting up?

"What do you say, Harley? Recognize her?" Deathstroke picked Willa up and carried her to the couch. He sat her down on his lap and despite herself, Willa turned into him, trying to find refuge from this hell. He stroked her hair.

The rest of the villains must have followed because Harley's voice came from the couch opposite. "I'm pretty sure. Hard to tell from all the bruises and blood. A little bag of bones."

"What about you, Catwoman?" Deathstroke asked, holding Willa almost protectively.

Willa turned her head to peek out with her good eye. Catwoman watched her with... sympathy? Willa seized it, trying to cry for help silently,

"Couldn't say. I was downstairs with Batman when some girl helped Nightwing," Catwoman answered.

But that wasn't right, Catwoman did me. She talked to me, Willa thought. Why was she lying?
Deathstroke gently lifted Willa's chin so she looked at him. "I always knew you were lying to me, sweetheart." Deathstroke pulled her up by her hair and threw her back to the young Shadow to go back to her cell.

Instead of just tossing her in, the Shadow set her down, back to the wall. Willa dropped her head, fighting to stay awake. He lingered his hands, weighing something in his mind, then took one of her hands and picked out pieces of glass. Willa hissed but didn't try to fight as her hand started bleeding. He did it to her other hand and both her arms wiping them down with clean water before leaving.