^^Jenson in my head <3

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Louis stood at the kitchen counter, his shoulders hunched as he leaned over the list of names spread out in front of him. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into his face as he traced the lines of notes and scribbles.

Behind him, the soft creak of floorboards signalled Harry's arrival. Louis didn't turn around. He could feel Harry's presence before he heard his voice.

"Roman Havelock," Harry said, his tone light, teasing. "The doctor with all the dirty little secrets. What do you know about him?"

Louis stiffened slightly but didn't look up. "What's it to you?" he replied, his voice clipped. He hated the way Harry's presence seemed to fill the room.

"It's my list, remember?" Harry said, stepping closer. "I like to know who I'm dealing with," Harry's lips curved into a smirk as he moved behind Louis, leaning over him just enough to make the younger man bristle.

Louis sighed. "You already know who he is."

Harry chuckled softly, hands settling on the counter either side of Louis, pressing him in. His presence felt overpowering.  "I want to hear it from you, sweetheart. You've got the floor."

Louis focused on the list in front of him, trying to ignore the way Harry's presence loomed over him. "He's a black market doctor. He changes people's appearances entirely. Faces, fingerprints, you name it."

Harry leaned in even closer, his lips just a breath away from Louis' ear. "And he does this for... fun?" Harry's voice was low, tinged with curiosity, but still light, like he was enjoying making Louis uncomfortable.

Louis' breath hitched. "He does it for money. People pay him to give them new lives, new faces—usually after some crime. And sometimes, when he's feeling generous, he'll sell them new organs, too."

"That's one way to make a living," Harry kept himself pressed against Louis. "So why can't we just track him down then? If he's selling organs, he's got clients. He's got a network."

"He doesn't just mess with the appearance of his clients. He-"

Then, without warning, Harry's hands settled on Louis' shoulders.

Louis flinched at the contact, his head snapping up. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

Harry's grip didn't loosen. Instead, his fingers pressed lightly into the tense muscles of Louis' shoulders, kneading softly. "Helping you relax," he said. "Anyone ever tell you you're real tight?"

Louis shifted uncomfortably under Harry's touch, his ears burning. "I don't need your help," he muttered, his voice unsteady.

Harry leaned closer, his breath brushing against Louis' ear. "Oh, but you do," he murmured, his fingers trailing up to the base of Louis' neck. "This," he pressed gently, "is stress. And this," his hands moved back to Louis' shoulders, pressing softly, "is me being helpful."

Louis swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything other than the warmth of Harry's hands or the way his voice sent a shiver down his spine.

"Tell me more about Havelock," Harry muttered casually.

"Get off," Louis huffed, but the words came out weaker than he intended.

Harry chuckled, the sound low and amused. "Make up your mind, sweetheart. You want me to stop, or is this working?"

"It's not working," Louis snapped, finally twisting out of Harry's grasp.

He turned to face him, his cheeks flushed with irritation. Harry still kept him caged against the counter, looking down at him with an amused smile.

Eventually, Harry raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk firmly in place. "Fine," he drawled. "Have it your way. Back to brooding at the counter it is," he took a step back.

Louis exhaled sharply, turning back to the list. "That's all I know about him," he said reluctantly. "When he's not swapping livers, he's changing people's faces, erasing their identities."

Harry arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "A surgeon who doubles as a magician. Neat trick."

Louis scoffed, shaking his head. "It's not a trick. It's a business. He makes killers disappear, gives them new lives."

"Efficient," Harry mused. "So why hasn't anyone put him down for good?"

Louis hesitated, his fingers tightening around the paper. "Someone did. Once."

Harry tilted his head. "Batman?"

Louis stiffened again. "Yeah."

Harry's grin widened, his tone turning almost taunting. "Should I grab you a Bat-phone, sweetheart? Call in the cavalry?"

Louis scowled, glancing over his shoulder. "If only I had Batman's number," he bit out sarcastically. "We might actually get something done."

Harry laughed, stepping closer again. "Don't get pouty, Robin. We don't need him. Just you and me, right?" he tilted his head again, his eyes glinting. "Besides, doesn't it feel better doing it yourself?"

"It's not about how it feels," Louis muttered, his voice tight. "It's about getting it done."

Harry's amusement only deepened. "And yet, here you are, wishing for a hero in a cape to swoop in and save the day."

Louis whipped around, his glare sharp. "You think this is funny?"

"I think you're funny," Harry replied easily. "All that anger bottled up inside you... it's hot."

Louis pushed away from the counter. "I'm not doing this with you."

Harry blocked his path, his tone softening but his eyes still glinting with mischief. "Come on, Robin. Don't run away just when we're making progress."

Louis crossed his arms, his voice sharp. "What progress? You think we're going to waltz into Havelock's clinic and find him sitting there with a scalpel in one hand and a face mask in the other?"

"Maybe not," Harry admitted with a shrug. "But it's a start."

Louis stared him down for a moment, his frustration warring with Harry's unnerving calmness. Finally, he let out a sharp breath, brushing past him toward the door.

"Fine," Louis said curtly. "Let's go."

Harry's grin widened as he followed. "See? That wasn't so hard."

***

Louis moved with purpose, his eyes scanning the shadows ahead.

"Remind me again why we're traipsing through this sewer?" Harry drawled, his voice light but tinged with his usual sardonic edge. "Roman's got a head start. We don't have time for sightseeing."

"It's not a sewer," Louis shot back, his tone clipped. "And it's this way."

Harry fell in step behind him, adjusting the collar of his jacket against the relentless rain. "You sure you don't need a map, Robin?" he teased.

Before Louis could retort, a scream cut through the storm—a sharp, desperate sound that sent a jolt through his chest. He froze, listening as another scream followed moments later, faint but clear.

"Oh, no," Harry said flatly from behind him. "Don't even think about it."

Louis' head whipped toward the direction of the sound.

Harry scoffed. "No way," he warned. His hair was slicked back from the rain and his eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Havelock's out there, probably two steps ahead, and you want to play good Samaritan?"

Louis didn't wait. He darted toward the scream, boots splashing through puddles

"Unbelievable," Harry muttered, trailing after him at a leisurely pace.

The scene in the alley was bleak. A woman was backed against a graffiti-stained wall, her purse clutched to her chest as two men closed in.

"Come on, doll, hand it over nice and easy," one of the men growled. A glint of metal in his hand caught the faint light—a knife, worn but deadly.

The other was rifling through her pockets, pulling out coins and scraps of paper with an impatient sneer.

"Help!" she gasped, her voice breaking with fear.

The man with the knife turned as Louis approached, his expression twisting into a scowl. "Turn around, kid," he growled, taking a step forward. "This ain't your business."

Louis didn't hesitate. His fist shot out, landing squarely against the man's jaw. The knife clattered to the ground as the man stumbled back, clutching his face with a curse.

The second man lunged, swinging a broken bottle. Louis ducked, his movements sharp and fluid. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisting it until the bottle dropped. A swift kick to the knee sent the mugger sprawling.

"Nice moves," Harry commented from the mouth of the alley, leaning casually against the wall. "Very heroic."

Louis ignored him, turning to face the first man, who was back on his feet and charging with a roar. Louis sidestepped the attack, slamming his elbow into the man's ribs before sweeping his legs out from under him. The man hit the ground with a grunt, rolling onto his side and clutching his stomach.

The woman trembled, her back still pressed to the wall. Louis approached her cautiously, keeping his voice low and steady. "It's okay," he said gently. "You're safe now."

Her wide eyes flitted between Louis and the crumpled men on the ground. "Th-thank you," she whispered, clutching her purse tighter.

Louis gave a small nod. "Go home. Be careful."

She hesitated but darted off as soon as he stepped aside.

Harry watched her leave, his smirk fading for a brief moment. He looked back at Louis, his expression unreadable. "Safe?" he echoed, his tone quieter now. "She's not safe. Not in this city. Never will be."

Louis turned to face him, his shoulders tense. "She's alive, isn't she?"

Harry's lips twitched into a cold smile. "For now. But Gotham doesn't let anyone walk away clean. You saved her tonight, but tomorrow?" he shrugged, the gesture careless. "Someone else will take what she's got. Or worse."

Louis stepped closer, his eyes flashing. "So what? I should've just let them hurt her? Done nothing?"

Harry tilted his head, his smirk widening. "You keep throwing yourself at this city like it's worth saving. Like the people in it are worth saving. Tell me, Robin," he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping, "what's so special about her? Or any of them?"

"She's innocent," Louis said firmly.

Harry laughed, the sound low and almost bitter. "Innocent? You think anyone in this city is innocent?" he gestured around them, at the graffiti, the trash, the darkness that swallowed every corner. "This place chews people up, makes them into something ugly. Even her."

Louis squared his shoulders, his voice unwavering. "That doesn't mean I get to stop trying. Doesn't mean I just get to give up."

For a moment, Harry said nothing, his gaze locked on Louis. The rain dripped from his hair, trailing down his face as his smirk faded. "You're exhausting, you know that?" he said finally.

"Good," Louis shot back. He turned and started down the alley, his footsteps splashing through the puddles. "Let's go."

Harry lingered for a moment, his green eyes narrowing as he watched Louis disappear into the rain.

Then he chuckled softly, shaking his head as he followed. "You'll see it one day," he murmured, his voice almost lost to the rain.

***

The docks were eerily quiet, the scent of saltwater and oil thick in the air. Louis and Harry moved silently, their footsteps muffled against the damp ground. The abandoned clinic stood ahead, its broken windows casting jagged shadows across the ground.

"This the place?" Harry murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Louis nodded, his gaze scanning the building. "It was. Let's move."

Inside, the clinic was a mess of overturned furniture and scattered medical supplies. Louis' stomach turned at the sight of bloodstained bandages and broken syringes littering the floor.

"Looks like we missed the party," Harry remarked, kicking a toppled chair aside. "Shame. I was hoping to meet our good doctor."

Louis moved to a desk in the corner, sifting through the papers left behind.

"What're we hoping to find, Robin?" Harry's tone was casual, but there was a curious edge to it. "A signed confession? Maybe a handy map with a big red X?"

Louis ignored him, focusing on a clipboard wedged under a stack of old files. The pages were smeared, but there was enough left to piece together.

"Havelock wasn't here long," Louis said quietly. "He packed up. Took what he needed and left."

Most of the papers were useless—prescriptions, supply lists—but one caught his eye. A list of names and addresses, most of them crossed out.

Harry wandered over to a metal cabinet, yanking it open with a sharp tug. It was empty except for a pile of medical gloves and some stained rags. "Efficient, I'll give him that. Almost like he doesn't want to be found."

"Havelock's patients," Louis muttered, his fingers tracing the page. "These are criminals he's been treating."

Harry looked over his shoulder, peering at the paper. "Anyone we know?"

Louis shook his head. "He's taken everything useful," he muttered. "He's gone."

Harry leaned against the desk, watching Louis with lazy interest. "Well maybe if you didn't go off playing hero," he teased. "Didn't Batman bag this guy once? How'd he catch him?"

Louis stiffened but didn't look up. "I don't want to talk about it."

Harry smirked, sensing the tension. He stepped closer, his fingers brushing a discarded vial on the table. "Oh, come on, Robin. Don't tell me you're too proud to share war stories."

Louis ignored him, continuing to shuffle through old tatters of paper, notes, and receipts. He paused, reading one receipt in particular.

Harry played with some of the equipment on the tables. "The trail's cold, then? Guess it's time to move on."

Louis hesitated, eyes still scanning the receipt. "This is for a butcher's shop in the Narrows."

Harry took the receipt, his eyes scanning it. "A butcher's shop," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Havelock's buying meat now?"

"No, he's selling meat," Louis corrected.

Harry laughed. "Guess he's downgraded his business. What's next? Vegetables?" he handed the receipt back to Louis.

"You don't get it. It's brilliant," Louis replied, his voice edged with reluctant admiration. "Nobody questions a butcher shop. Blood, bodies, strange deliveries—it's all part of the image. Perfect disguise."

"You think he's selling... human meat?" Harry asked, head tilted as he looked at Louis.

Louis nodded. "That's exactly what I think."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Harry asked, his smirk sharp. "Let's go meat shopping."

Louis was already leading the way.

***

The rain had slowed to a fine mist by the time Louis turned down the dimly lit street. Gotham's grime clung to every surface—the wet asphalt glistening under flickering streetlights, the faint hum of the city rising and falling in the distance. It was quieter here, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the haze.

Harry was perched somewhere above, watching from the rooftops. "Smells like a place that sells crime by the pound," his voice came through Louis' earpiece.

Louis ignored him, glancing at the butcher's faded sign just barely visible a block ahead. His eyes scanned the street, the boarded-up windows, the shadows shifting in alleys.

"Come on, are you scared?"

Louis bit back the frustration, sticking to the shadows as he made his way to the right street. "Shut up."

As he approached the alleyway, he caught sight of someone familiar—someone who shouldn't have been there.

Jenson Marks.

The last time Louis had seen him, they'd exchanged flirtatious words at a bar. A quick escape from the chaos of Gotham, a game between two people who weren't supposed to be looking for anything serious. Yet now, here he was, walking with purpose, his eyes scanning the street.

Louis moved forward, staying hidden in the shadows as he stepped closer to Jenson.

"Wrong way, Robin," Harry scolded through his earpiece "Where are you off to? Don't leave me hanging. It's so boring up here.".

Louis didn't know why he was following Jenson—maybe it was the lingering curiosity, maybe something else. Either way, he couldn't ignore it. He had to see what he was doing here.

As he rounded the corner, Jenson turned around and spotted him instantly. He stopped in his tracks, his lips curling into a half-smile. "Luke?"

Harry's voice cut in sharply, catching Louis off guard. "Oh," he chuckled. "What's this, then? Found your little friend again?"

Louis swallowed, blinking back at him. "Hi."

Jenson smiled at Louis, stepping closer. "So you finally found me, huh?"

"I thought you'd be gone by now," Louis replied, smiling back as he closed the distance.

"Come on, Robin. Focus. You're supposed to be tracking Roman, not chatting up criminals. Your boyfriend can wait." The words dripped with sarcasm, though there was an edge to them that was hard to ignore.

Jenson nodded. "This place has its pull," he muttered. "I'm leaving tonight," he added. "Chicago."

"Chicago?" Louis repeated.

"You been before?" Jenson asked and Louis shook his head. "Got some friends down there who can help me with a fresh start."

"Skeletons?" Louis asked and Jenson huffed out a laugh.

"Skeletons," he repeated. "Told you I don't do bedtime stories, didn't I?"

Louis felt flustered when Jenson smiled at him again. "So you're really leaving, huh?"

"Now or never," Jenson replied. "Glad I bumped into you first, though."

Louis tilted his head. "Why's that?" There was something in the way Jenson looked at him, something teasing, something raw, but Louis could barely keep his thoughts straight.

Before Jenson could respond, Harry's voice came through Louis' earpiece, this time louder and more mocking. "Oh, look at you two, playing 'civilians.' Getting all cosy, are we? Cute."

Jenson's smile deepened. "Because, if it's the last time we're seeing each other, might as well make it count."

Louis let out a sharp breath as Jenson reached out to touch his face, his fingers cupping Louis' cheek. It felt strange, this moment. The chemistry, the pull, but also the sense that something was slipping through his fingers.

Louis closed his eyes but just as they leaned in, the air shifted.

"Didn't Batman teach you any better?"

Louis' eyes snapped open and he pulled away from Jenson abruptly. His stomach twisted and his body stiffened at Harry's words.

Harry stood a few feet away in the alley, eyes blazing with a dangerous rage.

"What are you doing here?" Louis muttered under his breath, but his voice carried.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry continued, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he sauntered closer. "Did I interrupt something?" the words were followed by a soft laugh, one that made Louis' jaw tighten in frustration. "You're seriously letting him go? Just like that? Aren't you supposed to catch the bad guys?"

Jenson took a step back at the sight of Harry, his eyes going wary. "You with him?" he asked, voice tinged with confusion as he glanced at Louis.

Louis' chest tightened and he shook his head. "No! This isn't what you think."

Harry grinned. "I own him," he corrected, eyes on Jenson. "Your little boyfriend and I made a deal."

Jenson took another step back, clearly recognising the danger in Harry's presence. He raised his hands, a half-smile still on his lips. "I'm not looking for trouble, mate. I'm just trying to get out of here."

Louis' eyes flickered to Jenson, then to Harry. The tension in the air thickened, something dark and heavy hanging between them. Louis stepped between them.

"Leave," he told Harry firmly.

"What's worth saving, Louis?" Harry continued, his voice suddenly quiet, taunting. "Do you think he's worth saving? For one night of fun? You really think this guy deserves another shot?"

Louis didn't have time to answer before Harry was moving past him, pushing Jenson against the wall with a sudden and brutal force. His hand grabbed Jenson's collar, and Louis felt the air crackle with violence.

"You think you can just waltz around here? You think we don't know who you are?" Harry's voice dropped to a low, lethal growl. "You're not leaving Gotham. Not tonight."

Louis felt a rush of panic, instinctively stepping forward, his hand reaching out to stop Harry. "No, don't—" Louis grabbed Harry's shoulder but he was shoved away. "Stop it!"

Harry's gaze flicked to Louis, his expression suddenly hard. "You want to stop me?" he leaned closer to Jenson, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he kept his gaze fixed on Louis. "I'm sorry, did you want to be the hero? Because that's not how this works. You don't get to play nice, sweetheart."

Jenson's eyes went wide, confusion and panic mixing. "What the hell, man? I'm done. I'm leaving. I'm done with Gotham!" his voice cracked. "I don't want any trouble!"

"You should've thought of that sooner," Harry sneered, tightening his grip on Jenson's collar. "This city doesn't forget."

Louis' heart pounded in his chest. "Don't—"

"Shut up, Robin," Harry cut him off. "You had your chance to stop him, but you couldn't resist. Couldn't resist letting him go."

Jenson gritted his teeth, trying to twist away from Harry. "I'm leaving," he insisted. "Let me go, I'm done causing trouble. I swear!"

Louis went to lunge at Harry but Harry pulled a gun and pressed it to Jenson's throat.

"No!" Louis exclaimed. "Don't do this," he pleaded, eyes wide. "Don't- not like this."

Harry just grinned at him. "Begging for your boyfriend, sweetheart? That's cute," he said. "Bet you wish you'd kissed him now."

Louis swallowed, shaking his head wildly. "Let him go," he stepped closer and Harry pressed the gun tighter against Jenson's throat. "Harry, please."

Harry softened, just for a moment as he looked at Louis, his head tilting as he eyed him. Then Louis' eyes flickered to glance at Jenson, still struggling in Harry's grip and The Joker's face hardened again, his eyes going cold.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Harry said. "But I told you, I'm not playing by your rules."

The sound of the gun ringing out reverberated through Louis' chest. Jenson's body went limp, blood beginning to seep from the wound.

"No!" Louis choked out, lunging forward.

Harry was already stepping away, letting Jenson's body drop to the floor in a limp heap. Louis' hands went to the wound on his neck, pressing firmly. The blood poured through his fingers, warm and sticky as it oozed from the wound.

"Bit late for that," Harry commented nonchalantly.

Louis shook his head, fingers trembling. "No no no," he muttered, eyes welling up with tears.

Harry leaned against the wall, watching Louis with a raised brow. "Shame about Chicago," he tutted. "I heard the flights are expensive."

Louis looked up at Harry, eyes wild with fury. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he strained, voice tight. "Why would you-" he could hardly manage the words.

Blood soaked the pavement beneath him, spreading like a dark stain across the alleyway. Louis' hands trembled as he let go of Jenson. Blood trickled down his wrists as he stood up, eyes still on Jenson's lifeless body.

Harry was watching him, cool and collected. "I did you a favour, Robin. You shouldn't have let him walk free in the first place."

Louis' eyes burned with anger, but it wasn't just anger—it was betrayal. Betrayal by someone he thought he could trust if only a little.

"You killed him. You didn't even give him a chance!" Louis was shouting now, voice cracking.

"Oh, come on, sweetheart," Harry mocked, stepping closer. "Don't tell me you're upset about him. You think someone like that was worth your time? Worth saving? He was a criminal. A liar, a thief. What exactly were you trying to save? Your broken little heart?"

"Fuck you!" Louis spat.

"Don't pout, sweetheart," Harry teased.

Louis shook his head, suddenly backing away from Harry. "You're sick."

Harry watched him curiously, stepping closer when Louis stepped away. "Oh, come on," he replied. "You want a criminal to play hero with? You have me."

"Get away from me," Louis hissed, moving away when Harry came closer.

The Joker's expression changed, brows furrowing as Louis increased the distance between them. "Come here, Robin."

Louis swallowed, taking another step back. "No."

"No?" Harry mused, lips twitching for a moment before Louis took another step backwards and Harry's eyes narrowed. "And where do you think you're going?"

Louis scowled at him. "You're mistaken if you think I'm going anywhere with you," he spat.

"Robin," Harry warned.

Louis turned suddenly, making a sprint down the alleyway and bolting away from Harry as fast as he could. He turned a corner, racing through the dark streets of Gotham.

Harry's footsteps sounded after him, quick and heavy as his boots hit the wet concrete.

"Robin!" Harry roared as Louis stole away "Don't make me chase you, sweetheart," he shouted after Louis. "You know that I'll catch you."

Louis didn't stop. His legs burned with effort, but he pushed himself harder, faster, trying to outrun the chaos in his chest. He was mad—at Harry, at himself, at Gotham—but mostly, he was mad at the way this was all spinning out of control.

As he rounded a corner, his breath coming in ragged gasps, Louis felt a familiar presence behind him, closing the distance. Harry's laughter followed him, cutting through the night air, an all-too-familiar sound.

Louis didn't look back, but he could feel Harry's eyes on him as he bolted again. He didn't want to know what Harry would do if he caught him. He forced himself to keep a punishing pace, sprinting into the distance.

Harry's footsteps faded behind him as Louis entered a familiar part of town. He looked around, finally slowing down as he crossed a road he knew all too well.

He was going home.

Oh...

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