Who's Joking? (Stylinson)

31: Interests of an Idealist

This one is... you'll see ;)

Very long update (4k) so enjoy :)

28/400

Rain streaked in uneven lines down the apartment window, each drop blurring the grey expanse of Gotham beyond. Louis stood still, watching the city churn below him. A taxi splashed through a puddle on the corner. Neon signs flickered in rhythm with the downpour. Somewhere, faint sirens wove through the city noise—a song as natural to Gotham as the hum of its lights.

His gaze drifted skyward instinctively, searching rooftops and shadows. He wasn't even sure what he was hoping to see. Batman wouldn't just appear because he wanted him to. But the thought stayed lodged in the back of his mind.

"Where are you?" Louis muttered to himself.

He hadn't spotted Batman once whilst out and he hadn't heard a drop of news about him since seeing him dragged away unconscious.

What would you do? The thought came, sharper than he'd intended. A bitter tug at the edge of his lips kept him silent. Liam always had a plan. Always knew what to say. He sighed and clenched his fists, retreating to the illusion of composure.

The door behind him swung open with its usual creak, breaking his trance.

"Catch."

The wet jacket slapped against him and Louis instinctively grabbed it as it hit his chest, cold and damp, stopping it just short of falling. He frowned, brushing droplets from his arm as he looked up to see Harry leaning in the doorway, droplets of rain clinging to his hair.

"Quick hands," Harry smirked, running a casual hand through his damp hair as he strode in.

Harry moved toward the small mirror mounted crookedly on the wall. He pulled loose the knot of his tie, his green eyes flickering with their constant amusement as he studied his reflection.

Louis went to fold the jacket over the back of the chair but his fingers brushed against something solid in the right pocket. Something small and metallic—smooth and unmistakable. A key.

He hesitated for half a second, glancing back to see if Harry had noticed, but the man was preoccupied, pulling off his tie and undoing the buttons to his shirt.

Louis swallowed and slung the jacket over a chair, glancing at him. "Where were you?"

"Busy," Harry answered, the word vague as usual. He finished up in the mirror and strolled further into the room. "Something for you, though," he added with a spark of interest.

Louis raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Your new friends. Or what's left of them." Harry slid into the chair by the table, propping his feet up as he leaned back. "Two of Junior's little soldiers managed to slip the net during our performance. Jax and O'Neil."

Louis frowned slightly, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter. The names were faintly familiar from Joker's endless lists of names and debts. "And they're just... out there?"

Harry's smirk sharpened. "For now. But don't give them too much credit. Their idea of hiding involves bars with dirt floors and stolen whiskey."

"Let me guess," Louis said flatly. "You're thinking the Narrows?"

Harry nodded, impressed. "Look are you," he gestured lazily at Louis. "We've got whispers. A couple of haunts that might suit their style. Not confirmed, but..."

"But you want to check it out," Louis finished. "And?"

"And you and I," Harry said, grinning now, "are going to track them down. Not a question of if—it's just a matter of where they feel like bleeding."