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Once the gunshot rang out, chaos ensued. Jeremiah gasped, hand over his aching ribs. He tilted his head back, glasses slightly askew, and saw Jerome scrambling across the stage holding a bleeding shoulder. Jeremiah blinked slowly, hearing the crowd that had gathered for his brother’s show screaming and running. His cheek throbbed from where Jerome’s fist had made contact.
Jeremiah groaned softly, turning over to get his knees under him to attempt to get up. As he got to his knees, Jeremiah’s eyes briefly met Jerome’s. He didn’t feel fear or disgust.
He left me with our depressed, alcoholic mother.
Jeremiah watched as Jerome ran off, phone to his ear. He also saw Gordon follow his brother, gun drawn. Jeremiah actually felt fear for his twin. Would Jim actually kill Jerome? It wouldn’t surprise him.
With a grunt of pain, Jeremiah pushed to his feet and stumbled his way off the stage. Bruce had been too busy to even notice Jeremiah leaving, which was good luck on his part.
Pushing through the crowd, Jeremiah headed in the same direction that Jerome and Gordon had taken off in. Panicked crowds shoved by Jerome, jarring his shoulder. Looking up, Jeremiah’s eyes widened when he saw the huge blimp fly overhead.
Oh, Jerome, what were you planning?
This was elaborate for his brother. Jerome’s planning skills had improved. There were still major flaws that burned holes in the plan that would ultimately lead to the plan's failure but Jeremiah had to give it to his brother. He was rather impressed.
“Mr. Valeska, we have to get you to safety,” an officer in a GCPD uniform touched Jeremiah’s arm, a sense of urgency in his tone.
Acting on instinct, Jeremiah’s fist shot out and collided with the cop’s cheek, who let out a shout of surprise. Before he could recover, however, Jeremiah slammed his elbow down hard and the cop crumpled in a heap.
“Need to borrow this,” Jeremiah pulled out the officer’s service weapon and continued on. He winced, breathing out a hard breath as his ribs jolted with pain. He glanced up again, seeing that the blimp steadily approached the square where everyone had gathered.
He saw Gordon disappear into a building and Jeremiah jogged to catch up, trying to ignore the pain in his body. He should let Gordon kil Jerome. Jerome had killed their mother - - their father. Jerome was a monster.
If Jerome was a monster, then what did that make him? He’d left his brother with their abusive mother and uncle. Jerome had never hurt him, it had all been a lie to get himself away from the circus so he could achieve his full potential.
Unfortunately, Jerome had to be sacrificed in order for Jeremiah to achieve greatness. But, now, Jeremiah had the chance to save his brother.
Rolling his eyes at all the stairs he had to climb, Jeremiah glanced up when he heard movement above him. He was close. Letting out a determined breath, Jeremiah started to take the stairs two at a time.
Once he made it to the roof, Jeremiah paused at the sight of Jerome walking along the edge, a phone in one hand, opened, and his other hand pressed against his bleeding shoulder. Red stained the white coat and Jerome looked pale. He’d lost too much blood. Jeremiah swallowed thickly, his eyes flickering up to the sky. He frowned softly at the sight of the blimp seeming to make a turn towards the river.
“Drop the payload, Cap,” Jerome called out and Jeremiah jumped at the sound of a gunshot ringing out. The phone clattered against the roof as Gordon shot Jerome’s hand, making his brother drop the device.
“It’s over Jerome,” Gordon called out, his gun steadily aimed at his brother and Jeremiah’s heart skipped a beat. “No one else has to die. C’mon off the edge.”
Jerome let out a low, slow laugh and he looked up, seeing as the blimp diverted from its planned course. His feet crossed one over the other and Jeremiah thought for a moment Jerome was going to fall, but his twin planted both feet on the edge of the roof.
“Going to take me back to Arkham, Jimbo?” Jerome asked, tilting his head mockingly, “just so I could escape again? Gotta admit, I always do love a challenge.”
Gordon took a step closer to Jerome and he gestured to Jerome to step off the ledge with his fingers. “Well, I’ll just have to make sure to up your security then.”
Jeremiah finally made his presence known, the safety of the gun releasing making an audible click. “No one is going to Arkham, Gordon.” Jeremiah’s aim was steady, unwavering, as he pointed the gun directly at Jim.
“Jeremiah?” Gordon sounded genuinely surprised, and Jeremiah couldn’t blame him. He was honestly shocking himself.
Jerome laughed, scarred lips pulled into a wide grin. “Oh, oh! This is good!” Jerome hopped off the ledge and the safety of Gordon’s weapon released, still aimed at Jerome.
“You don’t want to do this, Jeremiah,” Gordon called out to him, though his eyes were still on Jerome. “Shooting a cop is a pretty serious offense. You don’t want to end up like your brother, do you?”
Jeremiah’s jaw ticked and his eyes flickered to Jerome, who watched the scene unfolding with an amused smile. “You’re not taking him to Arkham. He’s staying with me.”
“I can’t just let him go, Jeremiah. You know that,” Gordon tried to appease to Jeremiah’s logic but it was far too late for that.
“I know,” Jeremiah’s lips twitched with a hint of a smile before he pulled the trigger. The shot hit Gordon in the leg and the Captain went down. Before Gordon could let out a shot, Jeremiah lurched forward to kick the gun from his hand.
Jeremiah could hear his brother laughing as he brought the butt of his own gun down to Gordon’s temple, knocking him unconscious. Jeremiah hurried over to Jerome and said, “look, I know you want to kill me but unless you want to end up behind bars, come with me.”
“Whatever you say, little bro,” Jerome nodded and he took a step closer to Jeremiah but his knee buckled, sending him down to the ground. Jeremiah caught his brother before he made contact with the hard roof. Jerome was bleeding out and he needed help, fast.
Wrapping Jerome’s arm around his shoulder, Jeremiah started to help his brother off the roof. The blood from Jerome’s wound on his hand dripped onto Jeremiah’s coat, staining the fine fabric. Pulling out his phone with his free hand, Jeremiah hit one and dialed. Before Ecco could go on her concerned tyrade, Jeremiah cut her off, “Ecco, meet us at the safe house. Get medical supplies. We’re going dark for a few days.”
“We?” Ecco snapped, “Jeremiah, what happened with - -“
“I’ll answer everything when we get there. Please, just do as I ask,” Jeremiah flipped the phone shut before stuffing the device back into his pocket.
“Is that your little girlfriend with the mean right hook?” Jerome asked, his words slurring together a bit. Jeremiah readjusted his brother so he could better support him as they made their way down the flights of stairs.
“She isn’t my girlfriend, she’s my assistant,” Jeremiah instantly said, a flush gracing pale cheeks.
Jerome chuckled softly, his head falling forwards as he struggled to keep conscious, “does she know that?”
“Hush,” Jeremiah hissed as they made it to the bottom of the stairs. He had to figure out how to get them safely out of the area. Jerome didn’t exactly blend in well with the crowd.
“Whatta’ya gonna do now, brother?” Jerome asked, sensing Jeremiah’s dilemma. He let out a low, slow laugh, his warm breath running down Jeremiah’s cheek and neck. “Got yourself in a bit of a pickle didn’t ya? Savin’ your dear big brother.”
“Shut up,” Jeremiah growled into Jerome’s ear , his eyes scanning the chaos going on in the main square. They didn’t have a lot of time before someone recognized Jerome and saw Jeremiah helping him. Then, they’d both be locked up in Arkham.
Jerome groaned softly before he snatched the gun from Jeremiah’s hand. Jeremiah cried out softly in shock, making a grab for the weapon, not entirely convinced that Jerome wouldn’t put a bullet in his temple despite Jeremiah saving him. However, before Jeremiah could get the gun back, Jerome pulled the trigger and Jeremiah jolted a bit in shock and his eyes latched onto someone who had been trying to get into their car collapsing to the ground in a heap.
“There ya go, brother, got us a ride,” Jerome grinned weakly as Jeremiah grabbed the gun back.
Jeremiah made his way around the car, grimacing at the body on the pavement with a bullet wound in his chest, blood staining the man’s shirt. Jerome leaned against the side of the car, bleeding hand pressed against his bleeding shoulder, he watched as Jeremiah crouched down and quickly yanked the keys out of the man’s hand and he unlocked the car before helping Jerome into the back seat.
Getting behind the wheel, Jeremiah drove away from the square, his fingers clutching the steering wheel tightly. He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw his brother sprawled across the backseat, trying to keep pressure on his shoulder wound but with the injury to his hand made it difficult.
“Relax, Miah,” Jerome called out, their eyes meeting briefly in the mirror before Jeremiah snapped his gaze back to the road.
“Don’t know how I could possibly relax,” Jeremiah snapped, “I don’t even know why I helped you. I should’ve let Gordon take you to Arkham.”
“Because,” Jerome shifted, a wince crossing his features, “deep down in that black little heart of yours you actually love your big bro. Maybe you actually feel a bit guilty for leavin’ me with our whore of a mother and abusive uncle.” Jeremiah’s jaw ticked but he didn't say anything to that claim. Jerome laughed as he fully laid down, “yeah, that’s what I thought.”
The drive to the house didn’t take long and the two brothers didn’t talk to one another the rest of the trip. Jeremiah felt grateful for his extensive planning. He had a property he’d secured in a different name so it couldn’t be traced to him and it was fully stocked at all times so he and Jerome could lay low for some time.
Jeremiah parked the car, he’d have Ecco take care of it once he got Jerome inside, and got out. He opened the backseat door and grabbed Jerome’s uninjured hand. He pulled Jerome up, his twin groaned softly in pain but Jeremiah didn’t let that stop him.
“Alright, come on,” Jeremiah said, wrapping Jerome’s arm around his shoulder once more. Jerome could barely stand and Jeremiah glanced in the backseat, his eyes lingering on the amount of blood that had pooled on the leather. Jerome’s feet dragged with every step they took and his head rested against Jeremiah’s shoulder and it brought back memories of their childhood. How Jeremiah would get Jerome back to their trailer after their uncle had been particularly rough with him and his twin would barely be conscious, trying to crack jokes to keep Jeremiah from being too scared.
And, Jeremiah left Jerome with that monster.
As soon as they made it into the house Ecco was there, demanding answers. Jeremiah silenced her, lifting his hand, “Ecco, please. I need that car in the driveway disposed of. Now. We can’t have a stolen vehicle,” belonging to a dead man, Jeremiah didn’t add, “in the driveway.”
Ecco frowned, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Jerome slumped against Jeremiah’s side. “Fine. But, when I get back, I want answers.”
Jeremiah agreed with a nod, “yes, of course.” She slipped past them both and exited out the front door.
“She’s got the hots for you, brother,” Jerome chuckled, not lifting his head from Jeremiah’s shoulder.
Rolling his eyes, Jeremiah started guiding his brother towards the master suite with the connected bathroom. Only Jerome would tease him about his relationship with Ecco while he himself bled out. Jeremiah got his twin on the bed and immediately started to shed layers of clothes. Jerome hissed as Jeremiah had to peel off the yellow button down shirt off the bullet wound on his shoulder. Jeremiah mumbled an apology as he had to do the same to the wound on Jerome’s arm.
After a quick glance at the injury on Jerome’s arm, Jeremiah said, “well, that looks like a graze, no bullet to dig out.” His eyes shifted to the more serious injury and he frowned softly.
He moved swiftly around the house as he got the needed supplies to take care of Jerome’s wounds.
“Didn’t know you were a doctor, brother,” Jerome murmured, his eyes barely open, but his lips were still pulled into a weak smile.
“I’m not, but I’ve read a few books,” Jeremiah replied and he glanced at Jerome’s face as his twin let out an amused snort. “Now, don’t move.”
After nearly an hour, Jeremiah finally secured the bandage over Jerome’s shoulder. His brother had done well, though it didn’t surprise Jeremiah at how well Jerome handled the pain of him removing the bullet and cleaning the wounds. All his life Jerome had been exposed to pain. A few bullet wounds were nothing compared to what he had been through as a child.
While Jerome slept, Jeremiah cleaned up the mess and changed the sheets on the bed - - having to maneuver Jerome to do so, to give Jerome the most sterile environment possible. By the time he was finished with that Jeremiah was exhausted and covered with blood. He decided to take a shower and change into fresh clothes.
He checked on his brother once more, seeing that Jerome hadn’t hardly moved, Jeremiah went back downstairs to make himself some food. Halfway through making himself a meal, Jeremiah glanced up when he heard the front door open and close, the beep of the security system coming back on a comforting sound to him. There was only a moment that passed before Ecco walked into the kitchen, her eyes boring into him.
Jeremiah let out a sigh, shifting from foot to foot as he frowned softly. “I know you have questions . . .”
“Why?” Ecco cut right to the most crucial - - confusing question. Why indeed?
Why had Jeremiah risked everything he’d built for his brother? Why hadn’t he let Gordon shoot Jerome or take him to Arkham? His brother was insane after all - - and had, less than three hours before, secured a bomb around Jeremiah and Bruce’s neck, had beaten him. There was no doubt that Jerome would try and kill Jeremiah again . . . right?
Jeremiah glanced at his assistant, the only person close enough to him to call her his friend. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, but he could tell that answer did not appease her. “I . . . something he said, while we were on the stage. About leaving him with our depressed, alcoholic mother . . . I did leave him, Ecco.”
“But, he’s insane. He tried to kill you,” she argued, shaking her head.
“And, I’m partially to blame,” Jeremiah finally admitted. He’d been shoving down his guilt for so long, since he’d heard of his mother’s brutal death and Jerome’s stunt with the Maniaxs.
“That’s not - -“
“But, it is,” Jeremiah turned to face her fully, meeting her eyes. “My mother and uncle, they hardly ever hurt me. They’d hurt him. Jerome . . . He may have always been a little unstable but he did love me. He never hurt me. Never held a knife to my throat or set by bed on fire. I left him in the hands of a monster so that I could succeed. I sacrificed him so that I could have a better life.”
Ecco was silent for a few moments as she processed everything her employer said. She could see the genuine guilt in Jeremiah’s eyes. Her boss hardly ever expressed emotion in any way. His tone usually lacked it and so did his features. She hated to see him upset. “So, what, you’re making up for lost time? He . . . He may try to kill you again.”
“Most likely,” Jeremiah conceded with a nod of his head. He turned back to his meal and asked, “want something to eat?”
**********
Jerome woke sometime in the night, his body sore and achy. He felt weak, the exhausted felt in his bones. He blinked slowly, trying to regain his senses. He was on a bed, a very soft, luxurious bed that definitely didn’t belong to any of his safe houses. He turned his head and saw a figure sitting in a chair next to the bed and suddenly the past events came back to him.
Jeremiah.
His little brother had saved him. Jeremiah had shot Gordon. He had taken him wherever here was. He had cleaned his wounds, patched him up. He had to admit, he never saw that coming.
Jerome let out a laugh, which jerked Jeremiah out of the light slumber he’d fallen into. The bedside light turned in and Jeremiah’s eyes were on Jerome.
“Hello, brother,” Jerome smiled, his skin still pale, eyes sunken in. “Have to admit. Thought this was all a dream.”
Jeremiah scoffed, rolling his eyes behind a pair of glasses. He got up from his chair and leaned over to check the bandages for signs of discharge. Jerome’s hand lifted to grip Jeremiah’s wrist. Their eyes met and a breath was shared between them both.
“I’ve missed you, Miah,” Jerome admitted and Jeremiah nodded.
“I know,” he said softly.
“Why?” Jerome didn’t release his hold on his brother.
Jeremiah knew it wasn’t the question he’d been asking himself or the question Ecco had asked him. No, Jerome asked something completely different. Why did you leave me?
“I couldn’t have the life I wanted in the circus,” Jeremiah whispered, swallowing thickly. “Mother would have never let me leave unless she thought I was in danger. Unfortunately, I had to use you to get out.” There was another pause and Jeremiah shook his head, “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth, Jerome. I shouldn’t have lied. I should’ve figured out another way.” A way to take you with me, hung between them.
“You should’ve,” Jerome’s voice was rough, deeper than it’d been before. The scar from the knife that Galavan had shoved into his throat almost shining in the low light. A slow smile spread across his face after a moment, “but, that’s in the past, right? You and me . . . Miah, we’re a pretty good team.”
That brought a low laugh from Jeremiah and his eyes searched Jerome’s face. “What? Not going to drive me mad?”
Jerome barked out a laugh, “oh, you’re already as mad as me, Miah. Or else you would’ve let Jimbo take me in or shoot me off that roof. Of course, I already knew that.” Jerome’s hand loosened from around Jeremiah’s wrist, his fingers moving down to trace over his brother’s fingers.
“What were you going to do with that blimp, Jerome?” Jeremiah found himself asking, keeping his gaze on Jerome’s face.
“I was going to make Gotham a madhouse,” Jerome answered honestly. He never lied to his brother. “I had Jonathan make some gas. Works like a charm, Miah. Shoulda seen it.”
Frowning softly, Jeremiah tilted his head a bit. Jerome was so focused on destruction. He never thought of the bigger picture. Jeremiah always did. Together, they could bring Gotham to its knees, they could destroy and rebuild a better Gotham. They were better together than separate, and Jeremiah hated that it took him this long to see it.
“You know what?” A smile slowly crept onto Jeremiah’s face. “You’re right, Jerome. We will make an excellent team.”
Jerome blinked, as if surprised by his twin’s words. “You want to take down Gotham?”
“I want to rebuild Gotham. And, you, my brother, are going to help me.”