Paralyzer [Gotham]

13

I frowned at my calender, apparently doing so long enough to attract Victor's attention. "What's up with you?" he hummed, speaking in my ear. Now that he had nothing else to do, he had fallen into domestic habits, I dare say it worked for him.

"It's my nephew's birthday. Though, the last time I saw him I kinda spat in his cereal," I sighed, leaning back into his chest.

"Really?" he chuckled darkly. I shook my head and tried to fight the roll of my eyes, though I wouldn't put it past the mood I'd been stuck in.

"He was acting out, the kid's barely seventeen and he was drinking harder than I do. God knows what else. I gave him a reality check and it wasn't the nicest of deliveries." I felt him shrug, laying my head against his neck. "I don't know if I should get him anything."

"Don't. Sounds like this kid has some apologizing to do before he gets anything from you." He kissed my head and moved away. "I need to get out, I've got cabin fever." An idea rang across my mind and I hard a hard time keeping a smile from my lips.

"Get a bag together, then," I encouraged. "Bring the big gun." Victor turned to me with wide eyes, excitement dancing just behind them. He moved around the house with a new kick to his step, collecting his things as I called my father and cleared it with him.

[]

I gave him the short version of my mom's vendetta against my father, leaving out the bit where she'd turned parts of his family against him. "My dad gave us a savings account we couldn't touch until we'd graduated high school. Andrew spent his getting in deep with the mob, I sent myself to medical school," I explained, turning on the various light switches of the gun range. "After that, he still had the money to support his five other kids."

Victor gave a low whistle as he studied the extended hallway of a room. "Daddy really got around." I chuckled and sat on the back table, nodding out to the range.

"He brought Andrew here to teach him how to shoot, my guess is he found out what my brother was doing. Knock your socks off." Victor grinned and set down his bag of guns behind me, meeting my lips still with a wide smile. I held my hand to the side of his head as I matched his movements, leaning forward when he pulled away to start pulling guns out of the bag.

I shook my head but leaned back again and watched him load a clean target board, flicking a switch and sending it down the line as he pulled out the pistols at his sides. As soon as the loud machine stilled he began firing, wasting no time at all. He fired several guns and switched out the board once or twice, his accuracy near startling, before nodding me forward, holding up the gun he'd knicked off of Barbara.

I rolled my eyes but stood before the small table he'd loaded with magazines both full and empty, relaxing as he positioned me to hold the gun properly. Once he'd rested it against my shoulder he left the heavy thing to my hands, holding some above my hand on the grip and pulling back the handle sticking out of the chamber. I watched a bullet get pushed forward and took a deep breath, adjusting my grip and taking aim on the empty target board across the room.

Victor taught me to use several of the guns before going back to shooting by himself, letting out all his pent up aggression in his only available outlet. Without work, he'd been stressed, and as much as it irked me to say, he was usually calmer after a murder or two. This was helping, but it didn't fix his underlying issue, even I could see that.

After a few hours, he set the guns down and righted his shoulders, a tense and yet somehow pleasant air about him. I offered him a soft smile when he turned my way, taking a deep breath when he rested his forehead on mine. "Feeling better?"

"A little," he hummed, his eyes closing as I wrapped my hands around his neck. "Thanks."

"No problem," I chuckled. "You took care of me, it's only fair I do the same for you." My smile grew as he pressed his head into mine, closing my eyes as I relaxed under his hands. "It's the best thing I can offer, other than a list of people you could off."

"Could you?" I laughed and shook my head, even if I wanted to, I didn't know anyone who needed to die.

"I could help you with literally anything else," I offered with a soft giggle. "I'm sure someone will need your expretise somewhere down the line." His fingers smoothed across my stomach and I took a deep breath, the feeling of his hand laying flat against my skin oddly calming. I didn't say anything as he stayed there a moment, eventually sliding his fingers over my side.

"I knew you were still in there, good doctor." He didn't really gloat much initially, taking the moment to soak in the praise.

"Thanks for helping me back." I smiled when he pressed forward, meeting my lips and almost a bit greedy about it. To be fair, we hadn't really been close like this since the cure wiped through me and if there were something I could do for him, I would. I pressed my chest to his as he pulled my hips closer, not even concerning myself with his shirt. But when my hand slipped around his back, he pressed against it, pulling away slightly as his hands left me.

He surprised me as he went for the buttons of his own shirt, kissing a trail down my neck when I turned my attention to his hands. I smiled but waited for him to pull the fabric back from his shoulders to run my hands over his skin. Once he got his hands free he held mine by the wrist, pulling his head up with a dark look. "Oh come on," I sighed, curling my legs behind his. "Why else would you--"

Victor quickly shut me up, catching my lips and taking a moment before sliding his hands up my arms. He let me feel him out again, at least until he pulled my shirt over my head. Resting his head on mine, I realized he was taking a second to adjust, resting my hand on the tallies below the bullet scar but otherwise waiting for him. "Most doctors would want me to stop something like this," he breathed. I opened my eyes and looked over his torso and arms, even his freshest ones had scarred over by now, recognizing that he'd been feening for something physical, whether it be another body dropped or contact with mine.

I grabbed his chin with one hand, leaving the other on his chest. "I told you, I'm not a shrink. I'm not going to change you, not unless you start crossing some lines." His lips twitched up, a good sign but not nearly enough humor to offset the current balance. "It's like I said, I like who you are now, and I can accept most of what you have to throw at me." I ran my thumb over the curl to his lips, encouraging it to grow. "Plus, if I were one, I wouldn't be half as professional as you. This may be a breakthrough, but by the books it's a little more than a little unethical."

That pulled a laugh fron him and I was able to relax a bit further, running my fingers along his seperated tallies. "Screw the books." There was something about being denied to even view them back when it was just the one arm, to have to essentially force him to show me by the time it had spread across his chest, down the other arm, and both of his hands, to finally having him deliver the permission and learning that there were even a few healed over scars on his legs that made it all the more exciting. As of late, Victor had been my favorite learning topic.