Between Stripes

T W E N T Y E I G H T

I'd come to a conclusion. Jerome wasn't dead. This was just one of his grander performances. It was ridiculous that I'd not realised it yet. He was just faking it! I knew that deep down.

Oswald didn't seem to like to talk about it. Neither did Ed, but Ed didn't like to talk to me generally. Well, that was before they ditched me. Ozzie walked free from Arkham and I gave up noticing Ed, who didn't like me whatsoever.

People who did, somewhat, like to talk about it was (both) of the Dr Quinzels. However the younger one, good ol' Harls, talked to me on a more personal level. She was one of the few people I remembered.

Over the past year, things kinda mushed together. It was difficult to tell whether some memories were real or fake. A year of my life that was full of confusion.

A year of him. Him and his schemes. Him and his kisses. Him and his words. Him and his fears. Him. And I'd lost it all so quickly. God dammit, why couldn't he just come out from hiding? He must've realised that I'd soon understand. That I'd soon know what he was playing at.

Only Harley really understood what I was going through, and she didn't understand that much.

"Look Georgy, you've gotten past the hardest bit." she said with her eyebrows knit together and her cool palms resting atop my fists. "He'd be proud of you sweety, everyone would. I am, definitely."

"He is proud of me."

"What do you- Georgy, you do realise he's de-"

"He isn't." I looked up from the table and into her eyes. She swallowed and smiled a sympathetic smile which I knew was genuine, but it still pissed me off.

"Okay Georgy."

"He's alive and hiding. Gotta stay awake from the public eye, ya know?" I said, letting my gaze drift to the windows which were opaque and let in a white glow. Out there somewhere, was Jerome.

"And I promise you now, I'll get out of here and I'll find him."

The room was eerily quiet. The stainless room which I spent most of my time in. The room which heard nearly all of my screams. The room which witnessed most of my tantrums. Just one room. One room of many.

"Oh, I nearly forgot, I'll hunt down Galavan and kill him. Even if it means it's the last thing I'll do, I'll do it." I smiled.

"Georgy..." Harley said in a hushed voice. "Georgy, keep the death plans quiet. They'll set you back."

"I don't car-"

"That means you won't see Jerome."

"Okay. No more. Out loud anyway." I said with a sly smile which made Harley's mouth tighten into a straight line. 

***

Typically Arkham wasn't the number one place to find out news of Gotham, but in one particular case it was. And this case involved my dear Jerome.

"You hear about the new disease which is attacking Gotham in all sorts of places?" a guard, outside my cell, asked another.

"Yeah, there's like an entire group dedicated to him. It's super freaky dude." the other replied, he sounded disgusted by the idea.