Batman: The Promise

Chapter 4: Blood Less

Christmas was approaching fast. He'd spent the night after Falcone's murder patrolling quietly, silently brooding over the skyline of a snow-kissed Gotham. These were quiet times. The city was truly becoming the crimeless pinnacle he'd wanted, almost wanted. Any small time crooks showing up were dealt justice swiftly by the GCPD task force before he could even get close to them. That stung a little but his hopes for crime to happen were quashed when he'd think back to the chaos of before-the broken bones, the nights lost to pain, and the days waking up feeling like he'd drank his weight in tequila. Horrors would come, he was sure of it. The Joker wasn't dead. There was still plenty to be done before the end was firmly in sight, but the days of silence were frequent, and ever-present.

He'd managed to track Harley pretty easily the night after. She had slinked away from the Gotham Funland and ended up back at one of her dummy apartments under the name of Jennifer Napier. It had flagged up on his Batcomputer and the small camera he'd placed in there had recorded her entrance. She'd stumbled in with her two hyenas, held her side, and promptly fallen asleep on the red, leather couch in the lounge. When he'd checked the camera later in the night she still hadn't moved. The gunshot. It wasn't like she could walk into a hospital and get a checkup. The wound was serious, and she'd need medical attention immediately or sepsis could have begun. He'd prepped a small medical-kit and decided to go and check on her. He told himself it was his duty to make sure she was okay. He didn't want to acknowledge any other thoughts about her as he sped off in the Batmobile.

It was a few minutes after three when he pulled himself up towards her balcony with his Batclaw and jumped the railing. The glass windows of it gave way to the lounge, while the other side was her bedroom. She'd stumbled from the couch to the bed by the time he'd reached her. Her two hyenas slept soundly on the bed with her but he'd noticed fresh blood on the floor and the white sheets of the bed had begun to change to a darker, crimson color. He opened the balcony door which, to his surprise, was unlocked and stepped inside. The two hyenas jumped up and began growling.

He'd fought them before and they were vicious. He just needed to make sure she was okay. The one on the left moved to him while the one of the right stayed close to Harley who seemed weak. Batman watched as the hyena lunged at him. He caught it and span away. It landed against the wall with a yelping thud. The second one jumped for him but stopped as a voice weakly rang out.

"Stop," he heard Harley yell.

He looked at her. The left side of her suit was soaked in blood. She seemed dizzy. Her head bobbed and she slumped back down with a gasp. "Bats-" She fell into the sheets. She needed medical attention, and she wasn't going to get it with a care-package. The hyena behind him didn't growl but the look on his face was akin to a prison guard watching the most volatile guy in the courtyard. Don't do anything stupid, Batman.

He moved to Harley and put his fingers to her neck. "Low," he whispered. She felt light in his arms as he scooped her up. He watched the two hyenas moved around him, making sure he didn't hurt her. "I'm not going to do anything," he said to them as he moved backwards, back out towards the balcony. They edged closer to him but he was already over the railing and plummeting down with Harley in his arms. He held her tightly as he flew through the air. His cape extended and he landed softly on the street. The Batmobile wasn't far from here. Harley groaned in his arms. He needed to get her back to the Batcave. She'd lost a lot of blood. Why didn't I go after her when she ran? She'd have been safer.

By the time he'd gotten back to the Batcave Harley was unresponsive. He wiped at the paint on her face and couldn't tell her real skin apart. He carried her out of the passenger side and over towards the same medical table Alfred had helped him onto a hundred times before. He'd had emergency blood stored in refrigeration units, and from her file he could tell what blood type she was. Once he'd set up the blood-transfusion unit, he set about in administering pain medication, and finally stitching up the wound. The old patches fell to the floor with the old bandages. He watched her squirm as she flit in and out of consciousness. "Bat-"