You & I

Chapter Eleven:

Fight

No sleep, no chance, no need
Forget about it
One life, live free, big dreams
We're all about 'em

You're finding it, take it, take it in, it's all here
You and me, no one else, nothing else but us right now

- You & I - Crystal Fighters

'-So hang onto your hats, folks, 'cause you ain't seen nothin' yet!'

Television You surged back onto your feet with what had become your signature laugh and shoved the cop hat securely back onto your ginger head. Behind you, my blood splattered periwinkle blue dress swished around my knees as I stepped back with you and laughed so loudly that it almost melded in with yours. When had I started laughing like that?

When did I begin to sound like you?

Cop Killer. I cringed away from the voice as Galavan turned off the television and began congratulating the remaining Maniax on our victory. Commissioner Essen was dead. What we had done was unforgivable in the eyes of society, yet I could not help but feel proud. Despite the carnage we had created, I had still maintained some method to my madness. I didn't kill that cop.

And yet, you can feel your control slipping. You're becoming more like him. You're becoming as demented as he is, Madeline.

Physically shaking my head, I caught the curious gaze of Barbara. As she cocked her brow, I threw her a nasty glare and turned to stare at the back of your head. Your arms were thrown out in front of you, still donned in that now filthy cop uniform. Helzinger stood stock still to the left of me, slightly scruffy and bloody from his fight with Barbara's cop ex-fiance, Jim Gordon.

Pointless drama.

I wanted to drag you away from them. I wanted to leave that God damn building and run into the night with you. Could we not make our own chaos? Why did we need the sneaky and scheming Galavan, who I was so entirely sure had some ulterior motive.

Why hadn't I known? Why hadn't I done something?

Tabitha and Barbara exited the room with a few sarcastic comments thrown Galavan's way and a snide remark on you being an out of control toddler. I could see the way your shoulders stiffened and how your head slowly turned in time with them swaggering from the large, high ceiling room. Only four of you remain. You sure you're gonna get our of this alive? You gotta be tougher, Mads. True. So very true. Both Dobkins and Greenwood were worm food, the latter of whom was stronger than I would ever be.

Did you ever think that? Did you ever think I would live past every encounter? Did you care?

I could still feel the adrenaline from the speedy exit from the police station burning in my veins. Is this why you loved what Galavan was allowing us to do so much? I could understand. Since the moment I had met you in Arkham I had began to understand the utter thrill that came with living a life so dangerously. Killing, when needed and when deserved, gave one such a rush.

Would the day come when I could and would kill like you?

The terror seized at me suddenly. How had I changed to drastically in such a short amount of time? My crazy had always been so firmly under my control, but the fire in my body and the voice in my head told a story of control being lost. Even with my infliction of Impulse Control Disorder, I maintained a control over exactly what impulse I would follow. I had always been so fucking aware of what kind of impulses I had.

But that, in the past couple of months, had vanished.

The thought was both exciting and terrifying, so much so that I turned sharply on my heel and followed Tabitha and Barbara in their exit from the room. In that moment, I heard Galavan mention a surprise he had for you.

I marched firmly toward the room that we shared and threw myself onto the bed, drawing the covers close to me and curling beneath them. Sleep. You need sleep. In reply, I had begged the voice to just shut the fuck up. I couldn't hear my own thoughts. Or was that lilting, odd voice my new thought process? The voice that warned me of thing and sounded like a less crazy version of you.

My stomach clenched yet again.

How did you accept the mad with open arms? How did you sneak into my life and become such a part of me? I was terrified. Terrified that I would become like you, and that perhaps I would lose you because of it. It was a weakness that I didn't need; I had spent so long in Arkham mastering the art of not caring and you had ruined that so spectacularly.

I hated you for it.

I loved you for it.

What would happen if I threw myself from the window? It would stop. These desperate, clawing feelings would cease and I would no longer be under your spell. The anger and the love would just stop. But then who would you have? I couldn't leave you - not yet. The empty vastness of death was something so terrifying yet so welcoming.

You're going mad, Madeline.

'Wasn't I already?' I murmured, face pressed against the softness of the mattress.

The voice did not reply.

I was standing from the bed before I even knew what was happening, mortified to find that my cheeks were wet and that you (of course you fucking were) were entering the room. I was breathing hard, my feet bare and the blue dress crinkled around my knees. You paused upon seeing me, your eyes hard and gaze trained on my flushed face and heaving chest.

But then you flashed a grin and I breathed a deep breath out. 'Why the tears, beautiful?' You slammed the door shut behind you, so hard that the walls seemed to shake. I flinched and rolled my eyes and wiped away the salty tears with my palm. My mother would always say that tears were pointless and made your eyes needlessly puffy. You sauntered toward me and paused, face a blank slate. 'Huh?'

I shrugged. 'I don't know. Panicked. And don't laugh,' I scolded, eyes narrowing when the tell tale signs of his amusement began showing on your face. 'I'm going crazy - crazier. You're like a fucking infection, you know'. I reached forward and pinched one of the buttons of your pale blue cop shirt. The plastic was cold against my fingertips.

You caught my hand and laughed, mouth stretched and eyes wide. 'Oh, beautiful, you sure know how to woo a guy!' Lacing you fingers with mine, you tugged me against you and wrapped your other arm around my waist. 'We ain't crazy, are we? We're enlightened. Doesn't that sound a whole lot better? You're becoming more enlightened-'

'I know-'

'Now,' you snapped, dropping my hand and tugging my chin up to look at you. 'Don't interrupt. Say, didn't I see you shoot at that cop who shot at you?' I blinked up at him. 'Beaut-i-ful. You're gonna drive me mad with all this frown-ing. Smile, won't ya?' I complied and you kissed me, fingers brushing from my chin to my cheekbone. It was odd, sometimes, to think of you as someone who even enjoyed the act of kissing.

You pulled away with grin and crinkled eyes, but I tugged you back suddenly, not realising just how much I had needed to feel your lips against mine. This was the kind of impulse that I could understand and comply with. You. My biggest impulse of all. You huffed a little when my mouth met yours again and our noses bumped and my heart hammered in my chest. I kissed your furiously, planting both hands on your cheeks and your jaw, feeling as much of you as I could.

I love you. I love you. I love you. The thought was in my own voice and it ran through my head like a mantra. It was only when I realised we had stopped kissing and your grip on my waist tightened to an almost painful pressure that I realised your blank stare was trained on my face. You mouth was pressed into a tight line and the look upon your face was unreadable.

It was only when you crashed your lips against mine with such vigour that I was nearly lifted from my feet that I realised I had said the words out loud.

Had it been the first time you had heard them directed at you? Would you have killed me for asking you? The answer to both was probably. I couldn't imagine that your whore of a mother had ever gifted you with those words.

You moved to my neck, your hot breath casting warmth and moisture across the expanse of my exposed collar bones. The sight of you in the uniform made my stomach clench and my cheeks flush, even as I began tugging at your belt. I wanted you. I wanted you so badly in that moment that I thought I might come then and there. 'I need you inside of me,' I had breathed, so taken aback my the impulse that my knees felt weak.

The words were like a trigger to you. You tore yourself away from my neck and grinned viciously, eyes nearly black and lips wet with spit. I stuttered at the sight of you, nearly laughing in your face when I realised that you fucking enjoyed dirty talk. Pleased with the fact that the gripping panic and terror had left my system with your arrival, I revelled in the happiness and contentedness that seemed a sudden part of me.

Abandoning the thick belt, I felt you roughly through the uniform black trousers and bit my lip, drawing myself closer to your height. 'I just really, really want you to fuck me, Jerome'. I squeezed and your head lolled back as you groaned. The sight had heat pooling into my belly. You were so human it hurt. At a loss for any other words, I instead kissed the underside of your jaw and let got of you. 'What did Galavan want-'

You snorted and clenched the hem of my dressed, fingers tapping their way up my steadily fattening thighs. That didn't, of course, stop Barbara's snarky comments about my tininess. 'Beautiful, don't make me fucking kill you'.

What worried me was the seriousness of your words.

I grinned and kissed you, nipping lightly at your bottom lip. As unaccustomed as I was to physical intimacy, I was beginning to understand what you enjoyed. Roughness. Biting. Scratching. Knowing when you would accept affectionate touches was something I was beginning to understand. I huffed and drew away from you. 'You're being oddly quiet'.

You grinned wolfishly. 'Can't a guy enjoy being felt up? No?' You tutted. 'Such a spoil sport'. You hands drew further and further up until you were pushing against my core through my underwear. I shuddered and gripped your arm. You pushed against me, voice hoarse and rough and so like the on that you used with Essen. 'So wet for me, huh?'

Deciding that, for once, I wanted to outshine you I nodded and wrapped my arms around your neck and ground myself against your hand. You fingers continued to move outside the confines of my underwear. 'Remember that time in the cafeteria at Arkham when you touched me? I was wet for you then. Had to go back to my room - I came three times just thinking about what I wanted you to do to me-'

You pushed past my underwear with a hiss and a wicked grin, fingers finding that bundle of nerves and causing me to stutter for breath. The moan I gave was perhaps a little over done, but I was enjoying this sudden gain of power far too much. You were you in that moment. The insane, grinning and broken down version of you. Would you allow anyone else to dominate you like you were allowing me to in that moment?

Just for now, before any other plan Galavan cooked up, I wanted it to be just the two of us.

Your fingers curled and beckoned inside of me and I panted against your chest, arms still wrapped securely around your neck. In return, you whispered things to me. 'Who owns you, huh, beautiful? Who owns every piece of you'. You. You. You. I was yours and you were mine, and it was only when I was wrapped up so entirely in your being that I understand your need to watch the world burn. My freak out earlier was like the product of you not reminding me what exactly it felt like to be with you.

But then the drug would wear off and I would suddenly realise how much you had corrupted my already corrupted mind.

I bit your neck and licked, grinding myself against your hand and feeling the tightening, building, swirling...I stopped you with a sharp bite to your neck and a tug at your hand. It was only when I shook my head that I realised you had loosened the tight bun of my hair so that my curls swept around my face. Looking into your dark eyes and impatient stare, I said, quite breathlessly, 'I want to come with you inside me'.

That did it.

You started on your belt buckle as I stepped away from you, your fingers lazily dancing over the leather and metal with a dark sneer masking your pale face. I watched you like a hawk, skin hot and an aching want throbbing between my legs. As you kicked off your shoes and undid the blue shirt, I took yet another step away from you. 'Tell me how much you want to fuck me,' I requested, staring you stark in the face.

You snorted. 'Mads, Mads, Mads'. You pushed forward for me, an almost angry twitch sharpening your features. I started back again and you only stopped when a grin lifted my cheeks. 'You are bad,' you hissed. The paleness of your chest shined in the dwindling sunlight that filtered through the window, the hair starting from your bellybutton and ended at the entrance of you jeans so dark against your skin.

Control. I wanted to control you. I wanted you to praise me. I was desperate for it.

Eyes still trained on you, I reached beneath the dress and tugged my underwear off. The black garment fell to the floor soundlessly and I kicked it away, instead curling my fingers around my dress. Your patience snapped, just as I know it would. There was a moment of fear as you stalked toward me and grabbed my wrists roughly, sure enough leaving red marks in response.

You were wild after that. You threw me onto the bed and climbed on top of me, legs pinning my own to the mattress as you attacked every inch of my neck. You moved constantly, biting and scratching and squeezing and punishing me for defying you in that moment. I like to think that had it been anyone else, you would have killed them for less.

When you were inside me, the only sounds were the that of your groans and my gasps. The world ceased to exist when you moved inside me, and to my horror and your delight I told you this.

You told me you knew.

You lay next to me after, arms spread and fingernails scratching lightly against my shoulders. I peered up at you, idly wondering if this was the most relaxed I had seen you conscious. And yet, I could see the way in which your eyes flitted about the room, as if you were following each crazy thought as it swooped through your mind. You were never relaxed; never calm. You were chaotic. So much so that I cannot even begin to fathom what was happening inside your head.

'Galavan found my good ol' pa,' you said finally, fingertips pressing hard into my shoulder at the last word. 'He's my reward. Gonna plant the whole thing on him. Frame the poor old fellow'. You clucked your tongue and flicked your gaze down to me as I shifted onto my stomach, my green eyes meeting your blue. 'He's never gonna see me coming!' You laughed out your laugh, putting everything you had into the maniacal sound, only stopping when I blinked back at you. 'He's blind,' you deadpanned.

'Oh'. I snorted, noting the way in which the corners of your mouth twitched and your eyes narrowed as you looked down at me. 'When did you last see him?' I questioned, thinking of my own dad.

You scoffed and waved a hand. 'Uh, uh, uh. Don't ask boring questions, Mads! Ask how I'm gonna kill him, won't ya? I was thinking a knife - or maybe a plastic bag over the ol' noggin, what d'you think?' I frowned and your expression darkened. The arm wrapped around my torso tightened. 'Why the long face, Mads?'

I shrugged and lowered my chin onto your chest. 'Why is Galavan giving you him - what's he asked for now, Jerome?'

You tuttered and tittered. 'Questions, questions, questions! Galavan wants us to do in young Bruce Wayne, if you've got to know,Mads. Got some charity magic show for all the elites of Gotham Society,' you drawled, taking on a posh accent. 'And then-' You jerked, free hand reach round to grasp dramatically at your own throat. After a second of pretending to choke, you stilled and stared down at me. 'No more Bruce'.

'No more Bruce,' I repeated. No method, just murder. How do you know that? Galavan doesn't seem like the type to kill a child for shit and gigs. This means something. He's using you all. You're better than that. You and Jerome are better than that, Madeline. It was only upon the tightening of your jaw and the darkening of your eyes that I realised the words had fallen from my lips.

The hand that had been gripping my throat was suddenly gripping my hair as your pushed forward, throwing me into a sitting position with you. I yelped and smacked at you, ignoring your sudden laughter at my action. 'Jerome, stop!'

'We're better than that?' You repeated, teeth gleaming as you grinned. You drew your nose close to my neck and sniffed, pulling me so that I was straddling your thighs. 'Mads, Mads, Mads. Be smart, won't you?' The grip on my hair tightened and I glowered, ignoring the pain. 'This is my show - not Galavan's. If you wanna change the world, you gotta start somewhere, ain't ya? Don't be the Judas of this operation, will you?' You drew away from my neck and nudged my chin with your nose. 'Maaaaaads?'

I pushed angrily against your chest. 'I would never betray you, you stupid boy-'

You yanked hard at my hair and growled, the smile on your face wider and more terrifying. It was only expected that the situation was making you grow hard against me. 'Rudeness isn't tolerated, Mads-'

I cut you off angrily, tired of you growing angry at the oddest of times. 'After this, after Wayne, I wan't to leave. This will be enough for people to know who you are, Jerome! We can make the world burn without Galavan and his deranged sister-'

You kissed me and I pushed you away, a furious glare on my face. 'No,' I snapped clambering off of you. 'You were a dick. I'm not fucking you now'. I climbed from the bed, only to trip when your form crashed solidly into mine and pressed me painfully against the wall. I gasped in pain at the feel of the cold, hard wall on my naked form. The rage bubbled inside of me, mad and red. No one hurts you. No one. I clawed at you, ordering you away from me.

'Why so rude?'

I spluttered and glared up at you, pushing away the freckled arm that pressed against my throat. 'I don't have to fuck you every time your dick gets hard, Jerome,' I pointed out angrily. 'I'm fucking happy you're getting to top your dad, okay? Is that what you wanna hear? Obviously the other stuff I said was not welcome. Go kill him. God knows I can't judge you on that-'

'I want you there'.

I paused and frowned at you. 'What?'

You nodded, eyes blazing. 'Yeah. Oh, yeah. I want you to watch. Maybe then we can go find your dad, huh?'

I glowered. 'I killed my mum for my dad. That seems a little counterproductive'.

You gave me a considering look. 'Fair enough,' you clipped out, and pushed yourself away from me. I huffed and crossed my arms, suddenly feeling very naked in front of you. 'You're right. Don't look so surprised Mads. It's known to happen, ya know'. You cackled. 'We should give Gotham a taste of what chaos is. Ha! Leave Galavan and wreck Gotham without his lead. Oh, yes, yes, yes! You're a genius, Mads!'

I huffed. 'I know'. He listens to you. He'll leave. You both can leave an you can create a method to the chaos, or you can fall into the fire with him. Either way, you will not be under anyone's rule but his and your own. If he fights you on it, fight him back. He will never rule you so entirely. You have to leave Galavan.

I told the voice to shut up.

I should have fought him more.

Long time no see! It's been so hard waiting this story out just to see if and how Jerome would come back, and he is! I have a pretty solid idea of what I want from Madeline and him. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, considering what is to come I wanted a lot of Jerome/Mads, 'cause I have a feeling you're all gonna miss that in coming chapters. Anyway, review and thank you to everyone who stuck with this story! My tumblr is qarlgrimes.