We Were Born Sick • Gotham Fanfiction •

XXXIV: Sweet Dreams

Nothing defines humans better than their willingness to do irrational things in the pursuit of phenomenally unlikely payoffs" - Scott Adams

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The French doors opened to the room Falcone was sitting in and he raised his head to see Victor Zsasz walking in with Bird slung over his shoulder.

Coming to a breathless stop in front of his boss, he leaned forward to set her down and then roughly grabbed her arm to turn Bird around to face the crime boss, as she struggled to keep her balance with the ropes binding her ankles together. With a scowl she was still stubbornly trying to get the ropes off her wrists that Victor had tied her up with.

Falcone looked them both over, both of them looked entirely exhausted –bruised, bloody and dripping wet. He'd been wondering for well over an hour what was taking his number one gun so long to return to the mansion from his mission.

"I think we can untie her." Falcone said, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Boss!" Victor huffed, shaking his head back forth as he attempted to straighten his clothes out that were profusely dripping down on the carpet, as he argued, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"If she tries to run she won't even make it to the gate." Falcone pointed out.

Pulling a knife from his pocket, Victor extended the blade and moved to stand in front of Bird as he stared her down and she met his stare with an unwavering look of her own –back to pretending like his very presence didn't instill fear into her core.

After jumping into Gotham River after her, there had been a violent struggle in the water before he'd finally gotten her subdued landing a powerful blow to the side of her head, where she then appeared to have fallen unconscious and sank motionless back beneath the water and he had to dive down to bring her back to the surface.

After which he'd cursed the entire swim he had to make back to the dock, struggling to keep his own head above the waves while making sure Bird didn't go back under either. It wasn't until he'd fought to get her motionless body up on the dock and started to heave himself up from the freezing waves that it became undeniably clear that she'd only been pretending to be knocked out –when she raised up and kicked him square in the forehead knocking him back down in the water before scrambling back to her feet to flee from him again.

He'd managed to catch up with her a few minutes later where the struggle turned into a knock-down-drag-out fight between them, where she'd continued to surprise him with both her strength and will.
But he'd eventually overpowered her and was able to get her legs and wrists bound where she could no longer escape him –though she never gave up trying.

A grin spread over his lips as he stared at her, his teeth stained from blood as he stood just inches in front of her.
Refusing to let him intimidate her, Bird just kept her gaze locked on him and smiled back as she reminded him of what he'd been told to do, "The ropes."

The smile on his lips grew and he knelt down, cutting the ropes on her ankles before raising back and freeing her wrists.

"Thank you, young man." Falcone said as he stood up and laid a hand on Victor's shoulder before instructing him to leave them.

Once he was alone in the room with Bird, Falcone looked her over as he observed, "It looks like you put up quite a fight, my dear."

"Can't blame a girl for trying." She replied, staring straight ahead and not looking at the Don.

"Seems like a wasted effort though, doesn't it? I asked Victor to bring you here because we have some things to talk about." Falcone said.

"Yes, well, I was woken up this morning with Victor Zsasz at the foot of the bed staring me down, frankly I had no idea what was going to happen." Rubbing her hands over her face and raking back her still wet hair, Bird sighed, "Desperate times call for desperate measures, sir."