Chapter Text
The putrid smell of burnt hair filled every corner of the room like water, heavy and unescapable. One look at her lifeless eyes from beneath her hanging head and you'd know she was spent. Her mouth was hanging ajar, dry from the spasms of screaming and the dull ache that plagued her lungs as death—oh death—every second that passed made it look all the more tempting. Like a slice of heaven, or...
"Cherry Pie...," she managed to croak. "Oh...sweet, sweet...cherry pie."
Silence.
He didn't respond.
She didn't have the integrity to beg for her life anymore. In fact, she wasn't sure she could beg for much of anything anymore. Stars swam through her vision more sporadically then fish in a fishbowl and her stomach felt as if it were ready to empty for a third time, only making her dizzier and dizzier as time stretched on. Everything felt unbearably slow now, but the woman remained unbothered by this. With a mind as fried as her own, time became a nonexistent concept. She couldn't feel anything even if she wanted to; lips so numbed by electricity that drool had begun to dribble off the edge of her mouth into a forming puddle at her feet.
"Please...I just...I just want to go home..." she hoarsely cried as the sound of the machine slowly powering up again rang grievously through the air. The woman choked on another fit of sobs as she fearfully peered up beyond her frayed hair to see him turning the dial again; higher than before this time. Her face drained paler—if that was even possible. She already resembled a corpse: blood shot eyes and skin as white as a pair of well-brushed molars.
"Please, please, please," she began to frantically stammer, wishing she had the energy to cry in her final moments. "Please don't–"
The man looked down at her from beyond his ominous black goggles now with a sinister grin of pleasure. "Oh..." he mumbled, "but we're just getting started." he paused to lean in, his hot breath billowing across her face like fumes from an exhaust pipe. "Aren't we–"
"Sunny!"
Blinking out of a trance, the girl glanced around a few times before pulling out an earbud and turning to gaze up at the towering figure standing beside her. His face was unmistakable. Like a well-known painting, she'd recognize it anywhere.
"Well, well, well....Jim-goddamn-Gordon, is it?" she smiled before biting into the ham-sub sandwhich occupying her dominant hand. "Afternoon"
"Afternoon. Enjoying the show?" he sarcastically remarked before nodding his head towards the drug bust that was currently taking place across the street from the curbside she leisurely sat at. It was a loud commotion—cops and detectives littering the premise at every corner—shouting orders and commands in every direction. Ah! There was nothing like a little morning crime activity in Gotham to get the blood pumping.
"Always" the girl laughed before pulling a greasy, black strand of hair from her eyes. "Where's Harvey?"
"Ah you know him," Jim sighed in reply. "Shouting at the suspects."
"Classic Bullock," she smiled. "It never gets old"
"I wish it would sometimes," he chuckled in resent before leaning down to sit beside her. "How has retirement been?"
"Ohhhh, ya know," the girl shrugged before taking another bite of her sandwich. "Unpleasant. Bothersome. Boring. Ten-ten would rather be watching paint dry."
Jim smiled in sympathy. "I'm sorry about that, Sunny," he gravelly replied, gaining a look of surprise from her. Despite the girl's best efforts, it was obvious the tone in her voice was both tired and forlorn. There was no doubt she must've been losing sleep over the whole ordeal, Yet, here she sat. The seemingly same old Sunny; jokes and all.
"About what?"
"About Essen retiring you," he slowly replied. "I...I know it wasn't easy"
Sunny shrugged. "I don't think about it too often," she told him before readjusting the circular, black sunglasses sitting on her face. "It's not like I can do anything, so there's no worth in worrying"
"I know. It's just–" Jim paused to wipe the corners of his mouth with a frustrated sigh. "I know you didn't want to leave."
"You're right, I didn't," she repeated with pursed lips. "But like I said. No point in worrying about something you can't change"
"Well, you're braver than I," he admitted.
"Oh?"
"Last time I got put on parole, I wouldn't stop bitching about it until the commissioner gave me back my job" Jim grinned, watching as his friend restrained a giggle before keeling over, attempting not to choke on the food in her mouth.
"A goodamn comedian like always I see," Sunny smirked before slapping him heartily on the shoulder. "You always know how to make my Thursday's brighter, don't-cha?" she joked before the two of them suddenly turned to watch Detective Bullock strut towards them from the crime scene, a look of satisfaction painted on his old, smug face.
"Hello Sunny," he politely greeted her with a tip of his hat. "Jim, Charlie's going to have the two thugs sent back to the office for questioning so we can figure out where the other three ran off to. One of them is saying they're dead, but the other guy says they're not. Essen thinks they're trying to confuse us, but you know what I think," Harvey paused to point an accusing finger at him. "I think one of them knows something the other doesn't!"
"Sounds eventful" Sunny interjected.
"As eventful as retirement?"
"Oh, piss off, Bullock," she laughed as Jim had slapped his partner condemningly on the leg.
"C'mon Bullock. Be nice," he scolded, shaking his head in humorous disbelief.
"Fine, fine. I'm just kidding" Bullock argued in defense before turning back to Sunny with a friendlier expression. "You know I'm kidding right?"
"Always, Harvey," se smiled before wrapping her unused earbud around the back of her ear.
"You look well though"
"Thank you," she chirped before resting her free hand against her sunglasses. "Do you like them? The glasses? They're new!"
"Very Jon Lennon" Jim fondly commented before standing to his feet and watching as Charlie had finally exited the building, two other officers following close behind as they guided the arrested thugs towards the police cars. "Ah, well. That's our que i'm afraid" he told hee before reaching down into his pocket to retrieve a wad of crumbled newspapers clippings. "These are for you by the way"
"Jiiiiim" Sunny blithely groaned before reaching up and taking them between her slightly mayo-coated fingers. "Job offer clippings?"
"I'm just trying to look out for you, you know. I know you haven't had time to search for a new job since you've been so busy with all the-" Jim paused to wave his hands around, almost half expecting to catch the word mid-air. "Treatments"
"Oh yeah. I heard about that by the way!" Bullock cut in. "How's the therapy?"
"Both intriguing and seemingly useless, thank you!" Sunny smirked before concisely leafing through the assortment of clippings; tossing a few aside onto the cement while keeping others in hand. "Not bad," she commented before sticking the rest in her empty pocket.
"So you'll start searching then?" Jim prodded.
"I'll consider it," she finished with a frown. "Don't get your hopes up Gordon"
"I'm not, I'm not," he retorted, his arms raised to plead for innocence. "I'll see you later then Sunny"
"See ya, Sunny!" Bullock smiled her way as the two men turned to leave. "Take it easy!"
"Take it easy..." his voice rang; the tone resonating harshly in the back of her mind as the girl's head swayed side to side. Saliva dribbling from between her lips, unable to summon a sound or plea. "Take it easy.....you'll be fiiiine," he mockingly smiled as the machine began to power up again; full throttle. "It'll only hurt for a moment and then this'll ALLL be over!" He paused to sing before his bloodied gloves tightened the screws in her head. "Won't that be nice?"
The hum of the machine had suddenly overtaken his voice, but he refused to let his final comment go unheard.
"Won't that be nice, Sunny???"