Paralyzer [Gotham]

18

Andrew's vitals had been growing stronger everyday since Falcone stepped in and offered his assistance. I kept music playing softly in the room, to stimulate his auditory systems and hopefully rouse him into wakefulness. As it was his favorite music, I was trying to see if it would be similar enough to talking to him. But, so far nothing, other than his recovery nothing changed.

I had just barely heard it over the music, but I could hear the door close; quietly, as if someone didn't want to be heard. Trying to keep my breath from shaking, I took practiced hands and filled a syringe with a sedative, something the don had supplied me with despite my opposite need for it. However, I guess it did come in handy now.

I was slow as I stood from the chair at Andrew's side, holding a hand over my mouth to stiffle my breath as I walked to the doorway. Leaning against the wall beside it, I took a deep breath and raised the syringe in my clenched fist, rolling off the wall and ready to put whatever intuder into a nap.

I stopped when the intruder had his hands raised in defense, looking like a human skeleton with skin. "I'm one of the good guys," he assured, eying my makeshift weapon.

"Oh really?" I scoffed. His only response was a wink so I kept my fist raised, slowly taking in the blood that was trailing down one side of his neck. "I don't exactly make house calls, what are you doing here?"

"Who's the stiff?" he asked, taking a step forward as he peered over my shoulder. I took a step back and shut the door, adjusting my grip around the syringe. He chuckled with a soft shrug, "The boss told me where to find you. I was nearby, had an accident." My eyes dropped back to the wound on his neck, by all means it wasn't lethal, but it was clear this is what he meant.

"Don Falcone sent you?" I breathed, still unsettled by his appearence in my house.

"He did, more or less," he nodded. "My name is Victor Zsasz." I trailed my eyes over his dark, wide ones a moment before slowly lowering my fist.

"Lucian," I greeted warily. "What was the nature of your accident?" Pushing my panic aside, I forced my brain into medical mode, eyes glued to his neck as I stepped forward.

"Someone got a little trigger happy, nearly took my fingers off." I scoffed and shook my head, studying as much of it as I could since the view was obscured a bit by his blood.

"I'd say you got lucky then," I commented, moving to get what I'd need from the hall closet. "Had the bullet grazed any place else or any deeper, you would've bled out in minutes." Antiseptic wipes, band-aid, antibiotic cream. I was checking everything off in my head when I turned around, jumping when I found Zsasz had followed closely behind me. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack before I can help you?" I breathed. "One more scare and I might think the don sent you here for other reasons."

"He wouldn't have any reason to...would he?" I gave him a pointed look and moved into the dining room, preping the wipes as he walked over to join me, hardly making any noise.

"Unless those chickens are putting him in worse moods, I don't think he would," I sighed, having him turn his head as I cleaned the area.

"No, he loves those birds." I gave a short breath of relief and moved carefully around the edge of his graze, seeing just how close that bullet came to taking his life as his pulse beat just below the surface. "Gives him a sense of normalcy." There was a smile to my lips as I prepped the band-aid, carefully alligning it with his wound.

"Then that means my idea worked," I chuckled. "He needed the distraction from all this. Everyone does." After smoothing it down and catching the way he scanned over my feautures, I took a step back with a small breath, looking him over and finding no other obvious signs of injury. "Anything else I can do?"

Zsasz shook his head and walked away, picking up his coat off the back of my couch. "No thank you?" I tacked on, eyebrows raised curiously.

"Does the stiff give you one?" he asked, sliding his arms into his coat and leaving without an answer, not that I would give him one. When the door shut I shivered, getting full body creeps from him. After a second I went and checked on Andrew, though I doubted anything had happened, and nothing did. He still laid there, the beeping of his moniter falling in time with the beats of his music.

Releasing a deep breath, I slouched against his doorframe, wondering what I'd gotten myself into trying to save my brother. "One more thing." I jumped and shut the door again as Zsasz reentered my house, a large man in tow. "I just need to make sure he checks out." I took a slow breath and motioned him to the couch, taking even slower breaths as I prepared myself.

"What happened to him?" I asked curiously, topically finding nothing wrong with him. His attitude was even fair.

"He spent a couple weeks in my basement," Zsasz informed, chuckling to himself. I watched my patient for a moment, noticing the way he fidgeted with his collar. I stepped forward and slowly raised my hands, catching the way he held a subtle nervousness about all this. With a sympathetic frown, I pulled back his suit collar, finding deep, fresh scarring there; most likely electrical burns.

"How do you feel, big guy?" I asked softly, deciding the abrasions would heal on their own and turning to the V shaped scar on his forehead. I could tell it was fresh by the red, irritated, and swollen skin around it.

"Just fine, miss." My lips pulled into a flat, sympathetic smile, taking his pulse and shaking my head.

"Unless you did something worse than using shock collars on him, I think he'll be just fine," I informed, stepping back and allowing him to take the man he'd dragged in.

"Thanks," he mumbled quickly, leaving my place just as fast. Folding my arms over my chest, I shook my head and moved to the kitchen, washing my hands before starting dinner.