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Louis perched on the edge of the bed, his back to the door, keeping one ear trained on the hall. His fingers tightened around the slim communicator in his hand. 

"Liam," Louis whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Here," Liam replied almost immediately, his voice steady but quiet. "You good?"

"Yeah," Louis said quickly, his eyes darting to the door, fixating on the handle as if he expected it to turn at any moment. "For now."

"You haven't been caught using this, right?" Liam asked.

"Not yet," Louis exhaled slowly. "I'm careful. He doesn't know."

"Good," Liam said, his calm confidence a stark contrast to Louis' nerves. "What've you got for me?"

"The list is done," Louis murmured, glancing at the door again. "But I don't know what his next move is. I'm going to have to talk to him, see if I can figure it out."

"Smart," Liam said simply. "Once you know, we can make a plan."

 Louis sighed. "He's not gonna just sit still."

"No, he wouldn't," Liam agreed simply. "Do you think he's planning something bigger?"

Louis hesitated, the weight of it heavy on his chest. "Probably. I'm going to feel him out—see what I can learn."

"Good." There was a brief pause. "But don't push too hard. If he even sniffs that something's up-"

"I know," Louis interrupted softly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll be careful, I promise."

Another pause, shorter this time, before Liam said, "And after you find out?"

Louis leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I'll come home—"

"No," Liam cut him off firmly. "That's too risky. We'll meet somewhere else."

Louis glanced toward the window, his voice barely audible. "Where?"

"I'll send you a location before dark," Liam promised.

Louis nodded to himself, muttering, "Okay."

There was a pause, Liam's measured breathing the only sound through the line. Then his voice came, softer this time. "You're doing good, Louis."

Louis swallowed hard, his fingers curling tightly around the comm. "You sure? Sometimes it feels like I'm making it up as I go."

"You are," there was a faint smirk in Liam's voice. "But so far, it's working."

Louis let out a dry laugh, relaxing slightly.

"As long as you stay smart," Liam continued, "you'll be fine. And you'll get out when it's time."

"Yeah," Louis echoed, though the weight in his voice lingered.

"I'll see you tonight," Liam said simply, steady as ever.

Louis nodded, even though the words felt heavier than usual. "Tonight." He ended the call and tucked the communicator away, his heart still thudding in his chest as he glanced at the door one last time.

Taking a sharp breath, he stood and headed out to find Harry.

The kitchen was bright, slashes of morning light breaking through the blinds, illuminating the ever-present tension between them. Harry sat at the counter, effortlessly slicing into an apple with a sharp knife as if the weight of Gotham weren't lingering in the room like a spectre. Louis lingered by the doorway for a moment. 

Harry spoke first, his voice casual. "The brooding's a bit much, don't you think?"

Louis stiffened. "You'll survive," he muttered, stepping into the room.

Harry raised an eyebrow, biting into a piece of apple. "Barely," he shot back, licking the juice off his fingers. "Tell me—do you make all your teammates miserable, or is it just me?"

Louis glared at him, deadpan. "My other teammates don't kidnap me. I think that helps."

Harry smirked. "Touché." He took another bite. "I'm in a good mood this morning, sweetheart. Try not to ruin it."

Louis huffed, folding his arms. "Why? You find another person to add to the list?"

"Quite the opposite," Harry replied, leaning casually against the counter. "I hear you handled our dear Dr Havelock all on your own."

Louis looked up at him, startled by the sudden shift.

"Oh, yes," Harry said, almost lazily. "Thanks for that, sweetheart. Clean work. The dear doctor won't be bothering us anymore," he added, a faint gleam in his eye. "But next time, you wait for me." His voice dropped, low and deliberate. "Understand?"

Louis met his gaze, his jaw tightening. "The list is done. What now?"

Harry tilted his head, the corner of his mouth tugging up into an amused grin. "What now?" he repeated, chuckling softly. "Why the rush? Don't tell me you're not having fun."

Louis scoffed, his tone cutting. "I'm not—"

"Spare me," Harry cut him off. "You fight better than anyone I've seen. You think faster. You plan better. And I know you love the rush."

Louis bristled, he needed to shift the topic, fast. "The police are after me," he said sharply. "I'm officially Gotham's most wanted, thanks to you."

Harry seemed unbothered, shrugging lightly. "So?"

Louis' eyes widened. "So? That doesn't bother you at all?"

"Why would it?" Harry replied easily. "They can't touch you. Not while you're with me."

"It's not just the police," Louis pressed, exasperated. "It's the criminals too. Anyone who thinks getting to me is a way to get to you. You don't understand—"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," Harry interrupted, his tone flippant. "Let them come."

Louis threw his hands up. "You don't get it!" his voice cracked slightly before he caught himself, glaring at Harry. "I have a target on my back because of you."

Harry huffed out a laugh before his eyes became more serious. "I won't let anyone touch you," he said firmly. His green eyes locked on Louis, unwavering. "Stop worrying that pretty little head of yours. You're safe with me."

Louis exhaled sharply, his frustration rolling off him in waves. His gaze flicked down to the counter, avoiding Harry's eyes, a sulky pout tugging at his features.

Harry leaned closer, tilting his head to study Louis with faint amusement. "Come on," he teased, his voice dipping. "Admit it—you like the chaos. Just a little."

Louis stayed silent, refusing to look up.

Harry chuckled softly, the sound as infuriating as it was captivating. He turned back to his apple, taking another bite with exaggerated care.

"You've got nothing to worry about, sweetheart. Stick with me, and you'll be just fine."

Louis finally glanced up, his expression equal parts exasperated and guarded. "So what now?"

Harry leaned back against the counter, tossing the remnants of the fruit into the trash with a flick of his wrist. "Ah," he drawled. "Now, we solidify."

Louis frowned. "Solidify what?"

"Power," Harry said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He gestured vaguely toward the city skyline outside the window. "With the list handled, the last of the competition is out of the way. No distractions. Time to make sure everyone knows exactly who's in charge."

Louis crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the doorway. "Let me guess—you've got some big dramatic plan to 'send a message'?"

"You know me too well, sweetheart," The Joker said. "But this time, it's not about noise. It's about control. Influence. I have connections to renew, and strings to pull. A chessboard to set."

Louis stared at him, unimpressed. "So... more scheming."

"Scheming," Harry repeated with a mock gasp, placing a hand on his chest. "Such a crude word. Let's call it... restructuring."

Louis rolled his eyes. "Right. Sounds fun for you." He turned to leave the room, but Harry's voice stopped him cold.

"And for you," Harry called after him, his tone lilting, teasing.

Louis paused, shooting him a glare over his shoulder. "I can't wait for this to be over," he muttered before walking off.

Harry's smirk widened, his green eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "You'll come around, sweetheart."

***

The alley was cloaked in shadow, the dim yellow glow of a flickering streetlamp barely breaking through the thick darkness. Louis pulled his coat tighter around him, his breath clouding in the chilly air. The distant hum of the city felt unnervingly quiet here, enough so to emphasise the pounding of his heart. He couldn't help scanning his surroundings as he moved, hyper-aware of every sound and flicker of motion.

Batman was already there, waiting just as they'd planned. He emerged from the deeper shadows, his black gear blending into the night, though his posture was relaxed—at least on the surface.

"You made it," Liam said, his voice low but warm with relief.

"Don't sound so surprised," Louis muttered, stepping closer.

"I wouldn't put it past him to have eyes everywhere," Liam said cautiously, looking over Louis with a sharp, assessing gaze.

Louis offered a humourless laugh, shrugging lightly. "Oh, he does." He leaned against the wall, careful to keep himself half-concealed by the building's edge. His voice dropped. "He's got plans, Liam. Now that the list is done, he's consolidating power. Restructuring, as he puts it."

Liam's expression hardened. "Meaning?"

"Meaning he wants the whole city under his thumb." Louis crossed his arms, keeping his voice low and even. "No one left to challenge him, no loose ends. He's going after anyone who hasn't pledged loyalty or who dares to step out of line."

Liam exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. "He's shoring up control. That makes him even more dangerous."

Louis nodded. "I know. He's moving pieces like it's all a game of chess, and I have to play along, pretend I'm in it. If we want to take him down, we have to wait until—"

A sharp glint caught his eye—a flicker of movement above. Louis' head snapped up, his gaze darting toward the rooftop across the street.

"What is it?" Liam asked quickly, following his line of sight.

"Nothing," Louis said automatically, though his voice betrayed his doubt. He squinted into the dark, scanning the edges of the building for another sign.

"Louis," Liam pressed.

"There's someone up there," Louis hissed under his breath.

Liam stiffened, stepping slightly in front of him protectively, his hand moving to the concealed weapon at his side. "Are you sure?"

Above them, a billboard flickered, the advert fostering a red font. Louis deflated. 

"I—" Louis hesitated. "I don't know." His eyes scanned the rooftop again, but there was nothing there except the glow of the billboard.

"You're jumpy," Liam said gently, his hand dropping back to his side.

"You would be too," Louis shot back, his tone clipped. He leaned heavily against the wall, running a hand over his face. "I feel like I've got a target on my back. From everyone. Joker, the cops, every thug he's made an enemy of. It's a miracle I'm even here right now."

Liam's expression softened, though the tension in his shoulders didn't leave. "Louis, you're doing good. I know it doesn't feel like it, but this? Getting in close like this? You were right. It's the best way to take him down."

Louis let out a shaky breath. "It's just... hard. Watching him plan it all, acting like I'm part of it."

"You'll hold on," Liam said firmly. "You've got this."

"Do I?" Louis asked, his voice low, almost questioning himself. He shifted, glancing back up at the rooftops, still half-expecting to see that flash of red again.

"You do." Liam's voice left no room for argument. He stepped closer, resting a hand on Louis' shoulder. "We'll get him. And when it's over, you'll have made sure it happens."

Louis stared at him for a moment, then nodded, his throat tight.

Behind him, the rooftops stayed silent, still, but as the two men parted ways, neither noticed the faint shadow that slipped further into the darkness.

***

Louis slipped through the front door, moving with painstaking care to close it without a sound. The faint click of the lock settling into place echoed louder in his mind than it actually was. His pulse quickened as he took a deep breath, his body taut like a drawn bowstring.

He stood still for a moment in the dim entryway, his ears straining to pick up any sound in the apartment. His shoes barely made a sound against the hardwood as he crept farther inside, his gaze scanning every shadow for any sign of movement. His chest tightened when the living room came into view—empty, the air thick with stillness.

Louis walked through the apartment, practically holding his breath. He turned a corner to the kitchen and practically collided with Harry's chest.

"Jesus Christ!" Louis hissed, his voice sharp with surprise. He tried to swallow down the instinctive panic bubbling up. "What are you doing?"

Harry cackled, hands on Louis' shoulders, steadying him. "What are you doing?" he shot back. "It's almost midnight."

Louis swallowed, shaking his head. "Nothing," he muttered. "Just wanted some water." He brushed past Harry to get a glass from the cupboard.

Harry watched him. "You've been avoiding me."

Louis stiffened but managed to hold his ground, tilting his chin slightly. "Not everything's about you, you know." He poured water into the glass. 

"Isn't it?" Harry's smile widened, his closeness disarming. His fingers skimmed the countertop, a casual inch away from Louis' wrist. "Tell me, sweetheart, what's got you wound so tight?"

Louis narrowed his eyes. "You," he said flatly.

Harry's green eyes glinted with playful malice that sent a chill up Louis' spine. "Tell me again that not everything is about me," he teased.

"Don't flatter yourself," Louis shot back, taking a sip of water. His grip on the glass was tight, knuckles white, but his face betrayed nothing.

Harry watched his mouth. "Oh, sweetheart, I don't have to. Not when you're practically radiating tension every time I'm near you," he said. "Now, I wonder why that is?"

"I don't know," Louis replied. "Could it be all of the crimes you've dragged me into? Or the fact that it's your fault the cops are after me. Or that I've got a target on my back for all of Gotham's underworld. You tell me."

Harry hummed thoughtfully, stepping closer, close enough that Louis felt the heat of him. "You handle yourself well, considering. It's almost endearing," he said softly, reaching out to pluck the glass from Louis' hand. 

Louis let him take it but crossed his arms tightly over his chest, watching as Harry downed the last of the water.

Louis went to walk past Harry, but The Joker's arm shot out, grabbing Louis' upper arm and pulling him back.

"What now?" Louis huffed, looking up at Harry with an annoyed expression.

Harry set down the glass. "Just enjoying the view for a second," he muttered. "Stay there."

Louis scoffed. "You've seen the view before," he huffed out.

"Mm, but it gets better every time," Harry hummed, looking Louis over.

Louis shivered under his touch. "You make me sick," he pulled away from Harry's grasp.

Harry turned to watch as Louis walked away. "Careful, sweetheart. You'll hurt my feelings."

"You don't have feelings." Louis turned to leave the kitchen, determined not to give Harry the last word.

Harry called after him, voice honey-slick and teasing, "if I didn't have feelings, why would I bother keeping you around?"

Louis froze for half a second at the doorway but didn't look back. "Beats me," he muttered, disappearing into the hallway before Harry could see the slight tension in his jaw.

Shorter chapter but a big big chapter coming soon ;)

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