Born to Fly

The Nightmare Princess - ✔

I spend the day talking myself up cliffs and down them once again. Will she care I'm alive? She could be overwhelmed with joy, but also struck with grief at my survival.

"What did she say?"

"She was asleep when I went by. Jim was there. Even if she was awake, I wouldn't be able to tell her."

"Why was Jim there while she's sleeping?"

Ed rolls his shoulders, releasing the tension from the day. "He was reading through some notebook. I asked him about it."

I've seen her writing in it once or twice at the safehouse. "Did you see what she wrote?"

"Jim read me a bit. It's nothing you want to know."

"Tell me."

"It was just a journal," he says, "filled with her thoughts and emotions about everything. Even you. If I was qualified, I'd diagnose her with major depressive disorder with extreme abandonment issues and somewhat of a savior complex. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find someone to murder. I had a very stressful day at work."

"Sure. Can you keep it quieter this time? The neighbors called earlier. They were worried you and I got into a bit of a skirmish."

"You got it."

I should leave her alone. We're too emotional for this. But I can't. I've been having trouble feeling human. Without her, I can't grasp what the word even means. I'll pay her a visit late in the evening while she's asleep. If I can just see her, I know I'll get the guidance I need.

S. GORDON.

Doctor Warrick peeps his head through the door. "Miss Gordon?"

"Yes?" I turn from my plants.

"I don't appreciate the way you spoke to me earlier, but I'm willing to put it behind me if you are."

I think it over. "Fine. I will speak to you."

While adjusting the sleeves of my blue pajamas, I sit back in the hospital bed. I'm so tired of this stupid place. I've been here for over a week and now I hear they want to keep me for a few more days.

"Where would you like to begin?" He leans against the chair and folds his hands in his lap. "I'm here to listen to you. Tell me about your life. I can't properly help you unless I know you, Miss Gordon."

"I suppose we could start at my dad's funeral. Everything really started that day. His funeral is where I met Falcone."

"Carmine Falcone, as in the criminal?"

"He was an old friend of my father's—"

A tall, dark-headed figure knocks and pokes in his head. I know the face, but how?

"May I come in?"

It's Harvey Dent. He's the one who brought me to the hospital after I fell.

"Please do," I say. "Thank you, Mr. Dent. I cannot possibly thank you enough for saving my life."

He gently shakes my hand. "It's the least I can do for Jim Gordon's sister. He cares about you quite a bit."

I smile. "I appreciate that."

"I don't want to intrude any further. I just thought I would stop by to see how you were recovering. I'd love to meet up with you one day, Sera."

"I would love that, Mr. D—"

"Please call me Harvey." The easy smile on his lips is content and bright. "Let's get in touch sometime."

He writes down his phone number. It only occurs to me that he might be asking me out on a date. I'm not ready to move on, but I pocket the number for when I am ready to live again.