Devil's Playground • Gotham Fanfiction •

XV - She's On the Loose

"There is nothing more dangerous, nothing more powerful, nothing more necessary and essential for survival than the lies we tell ourselves." - Megan Miranda, All the Missing Girls

•••

The beep signaling to begin the start of the voicemail sounded in Bird's ear.
Pulling in a deep breath she began, "Jim, hey, it's me..."

Her voice trailed off and she internally cringed.
Clearly, he'd know it was her. Not only from her voice but her name and number showing up on the screen.

She at first was thankful the call had went to voicemail and he hadn't answered, but now she was thinking talking to him might be better. If he was there waiting for her to explain she'd have blurted it all out instead of this message full of awkwardness.

"I, just..." She cleared her throat, "I'm going to be away for a little while. Probably just a day or so. It's not a big deal-"

Bird's eyes closed, she could have face-palmed.
That was the same phrase they both said to one another during the fight the night before.
The fact that both had felt the need to say that was a clear sign the exact opposite was true.

A laugh came out before she could bite it back. She melted down further into the driver's seat of her car.
If it sounded that unhinged to her own ears she could only imagine to Jim it would sound like she was erratically cackling.

As if the last traces of sanity she possessed had broken apart.

"I'm fine." She promised. Holding her breath until the urge to keep laughing was gone, "I mainly just didn't want you to worry or flash back to the last time I left, because this is different... even though now I realize bringing that up probably doesn't make it sound very believable, but I just need to get away for a day or so. I'll be back soon. Promise."

Oh god, she stared up at the roof of the car in disbelief. Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse she found a way to make it just that.

She clasped the phone shut. Abruptly ending the message and trying to end the torture.

Just as fast, she opened the flip phone back up realizing she probably should have reiterated that she did love him, but it was too late now.
And she couldn't risk trying to call him again. He was at work and probably too busy to answer but if she called again he might think something was wrong and pick up, then she'd be forced to try and explain further.

At this point the more she tried to explain anything the worse it got.

Leaning her head back against the leather headrest in the car, she pulled in a deep breath.

When the alarms had went off that morning it had felt far too early and a long time coming all at once.

Neither of them had done much sleeping.

Bird had been tossing and turning, replaying the entire disaster of a night the prior evening had turned into over and over in her mind.
Forcing herself to not try and explain anything further.

It seemed like the more she said, the more she inadvertently hurt him.

Jim had spend the majority of the time staring up at the ceiling.

It wasn't just the disagreement with Bird weighing so heavily on him. I
t was also, maybe even more so, how he'd heard Maxwell Symon say it was Barnes who'd thrown him through the wall.

He didn't have the first clue in how to approach this situation.
A few times, when he'd felt the bed move from Bird's restlessness he'd almost asked her if she thought it was possible, but he stopped himself.