Paralyzer [Gotham]

4

Butch paced my livingroom, thankfully not in the feverous tenor he'd had the first time he brought Tabitha to see me. "How're you doing?" I asked, gently unwrapping the gauze around her wrist.

"I can use my whip again," she sighed, tensing her fingers a moment to demonstrate her strength. She'd been doing a lot better than I expected her to, for having her hand completely severed from her body.

"That means the physical therapy is helping," I breathed, taking a moment to study her flesh. "I think we can take the staples out."

"Oh, thank god," she sighed. "You would not believe how itchy these things are." Butch really didn't have much to say, but when Tabitha whimpered as I pulled out the metal bits from her flesh, he stood at her shoulder, allowing him to squeeze his massive hand as a distraction. I liked their dynamic, no matter how subtle they tried to make it.

"Now, I wouldn't push yourself too hard," I advised, cleaning up the holes the staples left behind. "Your nerves are still rebuilding themselves, as I'm sure you can feel."

"Thanks, doc," Butch finally mumbled as they went on their way. They'd caught me up on a lot, like how Nygma - the man who'd chopped her hand off in the first place - had helped Barbara take control of Gotham, so now I worked for them. Gotham went through so many power shifts I hardly knew who I was working for most days.

I leaned back against the table with a deep breath, waiting a few minutes after they left. Like we were sneaking around our parents as teenagers did, Zsasz opened the door to Andrew's room and poked his head out. "Coast clear?" I nodded with a soft chuckle, pushing my hair back from my face. Victor didn't know what ground he held with them, didn't want any harsh feelings I guess, though I don't know why there would be any. Better to be safe than sorry. "You okay?" he mumbled, tucking some hair behimd my ear.

"I feel bloated," I sighed, just feeling funny throughout today in general. "I really want some chocolate." Victor chuckled and stood in front of me, squatting down and lifting my shirt up my stomach. "What're you doing?"I chuckled, sliding my fingers over his gloved ones to hold the shirt up for him.

"Shh," he advised, putting his cold hands aginst my stomach. I took a deep breath but complied; he usually only felt out my body like this after we'd slept together, his timing just striking me as odd. "I don't think you're bloated," he hummed after a long minute. His gaze flicked up to mine, finding conflict and wonder in his dark eyes. "I think you're knocked up."

"Wh-- Excuse me?" I spit out, wanting to take a step back but unable to since I practically sat on the table. "I'm what now?" Victor smirked, apparently humored by the situation.

"You're pregnant," he put simply.

"That's a load of malarkey! How would you even know?" I huffed and added, "I think I would know before you."

He flattened his hand against my stomach, fingers gently smoothing over my skin with a simple, "I can tell." He kept his hand there as he stood, and, feeling overwhelmed, I moved from his reach and walked to the kitchen, holding my head in my hands. Come to think of it, I was a little late, but I hardly paid attention to things like that. Maybe that's how I ended up with a baby in my belly.

"Sweet baby Jesus," I mumbled under my breath, my eyes unable to settle on one spot. I jumped at Victor's hand on my shoulder, taking a deep breath and trying to slow myself down.

"Hey, you alright up there?" he asked softly, unsure of how to deal with me.

"Uh, yeah," I eventually sighed. "I just... Kids never crossed my mind. Like ever." I took another deep breath, helping settle down my racing thoughts. "You're taking this extremely well."

"The thought of having a little me running around..." he chuckled, and I could just picture a single digit birthday gift from him being some type of weapon. "It's kind of exciting."

"I'm glad you're optimistic about this," I mirthlessly chuckled. "I'm kind of freaking out." Taking a deep breath himself, Victor took my face in both hands, making me look at him as he ran his thumbs over my cheeks.

"There's nothing to worry about," he informed gently. "I did that to you, least I could do is help." I hit his chest with a light laugh, taking hold of his wrists and closing my eyes. "We got this." I nodded, a tiny curl to my lips when he brought me a step closer and kissed my forehead. "First things first, you go get checked out by a doctor. Make sure we're not getting all worked up over nothing."

[]

Zsasz was right, he'd gone and knocked me up. I was about five weeks in, which made it all the more surprising that he'd been able to tell. I wasn't showing, my stomach hadn't visibly grown, it made me curious. He had insisted it would be better if he didn't go to any doctor appointments or baby-related activities unless it was at my place. I understood, people didn't need to know Gotham's notorious hitman was having a kid. That could put a target on our backs.

Honestly, I still wasn't sure how I felt about it. I was mostly terrified, I didn't know what a baby would mean; for Victor and I, for my place in Gotham's underworld, for my already chaotic day-to-day schedule. The fact that the voice had been steadily growing stronger and more insistant also worried me. It egged me on, coaxing me to take whatever I wanted, even just on a whim. I could no longer just push it from my mind, I had to ride through an entire mantra of the voice, sometimes there were even multiple of the same one, making it nearly incoherant.

These two new experiences were a bit to handle just seperately, I had no idea what the combined affect of the voice and pregnancy would be.