Part Three: Maybe A Mistake

" Attention all units We have a 11-71 in Progress, possibly by explosions, All available officers are to proceed to Arkham Asylum Immediately. Code 2 Code 2 "

Wesker: Indeed, half the building was on fire. And still numerous explosions were still ranking across the building It was a mess of panic and screaming. Patients who were in the building simply for non-criminal reasons wailed in terror, while other, more menacing citizens of Gotham let out insane laughs and scampered through the smoke. The sound of coughs and cries for help raining out all around. In the shadows figures with black masks with white insignia were heading for the streets now, as yet another explosion ranked the building. They had failed to locate what they'd come for, and the ripped and flowing cape of the Dark Knight had already been spotted.

" My hats on fire, Dummy, put it the fuck out! " Gruff voice hissed out of the smoke, just a few hundred yards from the burning institution. Round back, just past where most of the police cars and fire engines were tearing in. One Arnold Wesker, covered in soot, still wearing his rather tattered Arkham outfit, had his back pressed to the smooth cold stones of the wall that surrounded the asylum. He let out a cough and used his free hand to snap the tiny pinstripe hat off his Bosses head and beat the flames out against the wall. " I'm sorry Mr. Scarface. I'll get you a new one. " " Don't worry agout that right now, keep going. "

Wesker paused though, his smudge up glasses reflecting the chaos that was going on just beyond him. He hesitated. Because he knew. That whole attack. It was the Black Mask. They'd come for all of Gotham's Mob, and especially him. " Get GOING, DUMMY! " Scarface spat. " b-but sir, they were.. trying to kill us. Maybe we should go back, we'd be safer with the police." " Are you fuckin’ NUTS? We are not going gack. I'll Deal with the glackmask shithead myselg. "

Oddly enough, this was the most time Wesker had spent talking to Scarface in almost three months. He'd been doing Good. And then his whole world came crashing down on him, literally, and Scarface was once again pushing him around. He stared blankly till Scarface growled at him again, before nodding with a shiver and began sliding down the wall again.


Gordon: The flatfoots were on the scene first. They made their perimeter and tried to keep as many inmates from escaping as possible until the SWAT arrived. Most of the force was immediately dispatched moments after it happened. Most certainly Batman would be on the escapee's faster than most of the other cops. Gordon was wakened out of a dead sleep by a call that sent him sprinting for his closet and out into the fray wearing rumpled clothes and hastily flattened bed-head.

By the time he made it to Arkham himself, police were already swarming over it like ants and carrying their little baggies of evidence back to the hill. As if much evidence were needed, though. A couple of crumpled forms bound and tied with convenient black rope with familiar masks told the whole story. Here he'd thought by now the Black Mask would have given up his plot. He got out of his car. This didn't bode well, not at all.

They may have him. You're getting sloppy. It'll be your fault if something's happened.

"Hey Gordon," a gravelly voice said behind him, snapping out of his self-reprimand. Gordon turned to see the hefty form of Bullock trailing smoke from his cigarette and a shit-eating smirk spread across his face. "Busy night, huh? We lost most of them but we caught a few."

"We?" Gordon asked. He knew what we meant on the force anymore.

"Well, ...Bats..." the grizzled detective simmered with contempt at the mention of the costumed crusader. "But Jefferson caught the Hatter on his own, no bats or nothin'."

Gordon got something of an evil grin under his bushy mustache. "Then maybe I should give him your job." That made Bullock gape, and Gordon just shook his head. "I'm kiddin', get out there and keep it up. Bats has gotta need a cup of coffee sooner or later, anyway." With that, he walked away from him to start walking down the sidewalk and glancing around on his own.


Wesker: The hard cool stone and the night air ( even if it was thick was smoke ) was refreshing to a man who hadn't really felt such things in months, but being outside made Arnold paranoid. He just felt that at any given moment, one of Black Mask's boys would come flying out of the bush at him. Or Batman, or even that fat pudgy cop that was always Munching on the donuts.

" Go faster, Dummy, there's a groken git of the wall coming up, you can climg yer sorry ass over that. " Wesker huffed but nodded. He didn't want to be escaping. You know what's going to happen now. We'll be back in the underground, hurting people. Killing people. And you'll never get to talk to him again. Wesker felt a few tears starting in his eyes. But he blinked them away as he reached the part of the wall that had caved in on itself.

Now this was comical, if anyone would be there to watch it. A teeny man trying to jump up and snag the ledge of a wall, feet kicking and scampering. Oh man, too old for this. The dummy bitched the whole time. " What the fuck? Pull yerself up! God, do I have to push yer ass? " The thing was. He WAS being watched, And it was only because of Scarface's sudden kick to his side that Wesker fell instead of taking a bullet to the head as someone fired a shot and shattered the bricks above him.

" AH FUCK! " Scarface screeched. Wesker rolled and then looked up to see a Black Mask goonie aiming a gun at him. He froze, one hand curling around a fist sized rock. " As if you thought you could escape, your hold on the Underground is over, Scarface. "


Gordon: Padding the sidewalk Gordon found himself unknowingly wondering away from the cops, and away from his reinforcement. As the sounds of the sirens and lights became a little less vivid, he drew his gun. As if summoned by the drawing, he immediately heard a shot. Now, not just a shot, a shot against stone. Whatever it was aiming for, it missed its target. Maybe next time it would actually make it.

He ran toward the sound, pulling out his radio. "Possible 417, get officers over to 24th and Winchester." He ran a bit, then turned a corner, then froze.

Wesker had made it out, but it looked like he might not make it all the way. Whatever he thought he was going to do with that rock against a huge goon with a gun, he had no idea, but it wasn't the best situation to be in.

"FREEZE!" He ordered, aiming at the perpetrator. "Drop it!"


Wesker: Staring down the barrel of a gun. It wasn't like he'd been here before. But usually, at least the other man on the other side wasn't the type to kill him. A cop or such. And if it happened to be someone who wanted to kill him, usually Scarface had his little Tommy Gun and would mow them down. But here he was most certainly dead, And all Wesker could think about was should have stayed. Woulda been safe. Maybe even gotten to see James, he'd come to see the commotion, certainly.

" yah right, shithe- " Scarface had started, but everyone was interrupted by Gordon's yell.

Gordon? Well it certainly surprised Wesker, but it surprised the gun totting goony even more. The hired muscle spun and pointed his gun at the officer. Oh, what was Wesker going to DO with that rock, was the question.

Why THIS! And for such a little man, he could sure move. The moment the goony turned the mousy little man ( looking about ready to pee himself at that ) Pushed off his knees and flung the fist-sized rock. It certainly wasn't going to kill anyone. But taking it upside one's Black Masked head was still an upsetting and distracting situation. The Goon let out a curse and shot himself in the foot as he spun off balance.


Gordon: Gordon pointed and yelled, "Run to the library! NOW!" and descended on the stumbling goon like a predator picking off a wounded animal. He pulled back his fist and proceeded to attempt to leave an indention in his face. He grabbed him by the hair before he could fall backward and yanked his head down into his knee, which he brought up right into his nose.

Sure James Gordon was no Batman, but he could at least take care of himself. He wrangled the goon onto the ground and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.


Wesker: " What are you just standing there for, Dummy? " Scarface barked at Wesker. He was, just standing there, as he watched James plow into his would be murderer. There he is, helping me again. He swallowed and took a step forward, and then one back again. Shuffling. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to run to Gordon and help him.

But he'd probably just be in the way. Unless of course he grabbed a bigger rock, or even a brick. Something inside him, Scarface most likely, wouldn't have minded bashing that Goon in the head again. No. Must.

The small man let out a whine and took off running. He scaled the wall with little problem this time and took off across the field. He didn't stop running till he reached the junction in the road. One way, the Library, the other, Down Town Gotham, Back to the Underground. Scarface tugged in that direction,

But Wesker bucked back and took off toward the library. " What the HELL ARE YOU DOING DUMMY? " The Dummy nashed against his side. " WRONG WAY! " " W-we need help Mr. Scarface, those men will kill us. He'll help us. " " No he won't he'll TAKE our asses to GLACKGATE, You ninny! " " I TRUST HIM! "

Three months of therapy and Wesker hadn't gotten rid of Scarface, but as he ducked into the library, it was obvious he'd learned, sometimes, to tell the Dummy no.


Gordon: After wrangling the goon and cuffing his hands behind his back, he held the whimpering thugs shoulders to the ground until back-up showed up to collect the catch. Throwing him into the cooler with the rest of the fish, the police wagon continued making i's rounds (though it was picking up mostly drop offs from Batman). Once Gordon was through he politely excused himself, having more than reason with how the goon spurted an explosion of blood from his nose down the leg of his pants.

Once he made it to his car, he drove over to the library and parked out front, pulling off his coat as he got out. He ran up to the library entrance, glancing around for any stray officers as he went. "Arnold!?" He shouted quickly.

He didn't like this. Obviously leaving Wesker in Arkham hadn't kept him safe, but he wouldn't be any safer trolling the streets. The Black Mask had a vendetta, something that Gordon wasn't really sure about. Maybe the cape and cowl would find out, but would he find out before he picked off the rest of Arkham's underground? Or would Bats even care if a few of them got picked off? He was so mysterious that Gordon could never be sure.

"Arnold! Where are you?"


Wesker: " h-here. " Came a squeak of a reply from around a few bookshelves. The single Librarian, old and crowy peered around a different set of bookshelves and hissed a 'ssssssh' at the Commissioner before slowly moving off with her mess pile of old texts to return.

Once James rounded the shelves he'd find the duo sitting nudged between dusty old books about world history. He certainly was a pitiful site. Covered in fire soot with the occasional burn and bruise that dotted over his neck and his forehead.

The free hand was bleeding and scratched up from the wall he's scaled. Scarface sat on one knee, a foot tapping, arms crossed, oh so pissed.

They looked like hell. But when Wesker saw Gordon, the tiny man's eyes widened behind his glasses and he was up off the ground and leeched to the taller man with his free arm and muffled right into his wrinkled blood splattered shirt. " T-thank you! "


Gordon: He used the heel of his hand to shove the grunge out of Wesker's eyes and cheeks. "I've got to get you out of here, okay," he said, grabbing the smaller man's shoulder's and making him look at him. No, you're being too rough, he's traumatized. He shook his head and looked down at the ground, then back up at Wesker's face. "...Did they hurt you?"

His eyes traveled over some of those bruises. Nothing looked too serious though. It was small comfort. The dummy, it had made it through. He almost wished it hadn't, but that wouldn't have been a cure for what was wrong with him. It would have just left him whimpering in the rubble and unable to defend himself.

"Here," he said softly, careful not to disturb the stillness despite the sirens outside, and slid his coat around Wesker's shoulders. "Keep him close against you, nobody'll be able to see him."

Why are you doing this, James? Trying to make up for all the times you fucked up in the past? How do you know this won't make it all go away? How do you know you aren't making a bigger mistake?

He pursed his lips as he fixed the collar of the coat, trying to wash those thoughts out too. Then another one occurred. Maybe you just want him away from everyone and alone. That one seemed... nicer somehow.


Wesker: Nothing too serious had falling the Ventriloquist and his dummy. Some minor burns, cuts and bruises, he might have pulled something going over that wall ( figure that one out after a good nights sleep ) but all in all was he was intact, a little shaken, but all of that could be remedied with a bath and some Neosporin.

The grip on his shoulders and smudges to his face were decent enough to shake him out of awkward stupor the whole event had placed him in. Wesker let out a bit of a trill and then shook his head.

" N-no you came along before they could do anything else. " The small man whispered out. I'm so glad he's here. I didn't want to go back to the underground. But Scarface doesn't approve. He's not going to let me stay with this man for long. But.. I want too. " T-thank you. " With another nod and he curled the Dummy up against his chest and wrapped both arms around it.

" Wha? What the fuck? I don't wanna ge in here. God dammit, Dummy, You shoulda done what I asked yah too and gone gack tah the hideout. This guy anit gonna do yah any good. He's a cop! He's gonna throw us gack in Glack- " Scarface became muffled as Wesker pulled him tighter to his chest and bit at his lip chin going down into the Dummy's hat. " Please, Mr. Scarface, Please. We can't go back. " The coat was pulled tighter and Wesker looked back up at Gordon. " He's going to complain a lot.. b-but I'll come with you, even if you take me to the police. "

A loud muffled curse from Scarface, but Wesker only pulled James' large trench coat over his body tighter across himself the best he could and turned to walk. It was big, heavy and it smelt like gunpowder, sweat and paper work. He wouldn't have minded hiding under it forever.


Gordon: He rested his hands on his shoulder and geared him out toward the doors. "Can't do that. The cells are going to be filled with the Black Mask's soldiers," he said quietly.

Gordon knew what he had to do, he just didn't want to admit it. In his care, at least until they captured the Black Mask himself, Wesker would be safe. As soon as the villain was caught, he could take him in then, right?

Would it be safe for you, though?

"Just keep walking, don't look around. It'll attract attention." He took a turn and started gearing him toward his car. "When I get you to it duck down in the passenger seat. If someone stops us I'll just say I caught you and you're hurt. Play along, alright."

Something about that made him feel dirty, but it wouldn't be the first time that he'd lied for what he thought was someone's own good.


Wesker: Was it perhaps that he was going outside the law on this matter? Was harboring a wanted felon against everything he'd been taught? But then again, It was a villain and a victim all in one. At least for James Gordon's sake, Arnold Wesker was very good at following instructions. With his free hand he kept the coat tight across Scarface and held the bitching, gripping, muffled Dummy out of viewing eyes.

Not another word was said till they'd fumbled down the steps of the library and made it to the commissioner's car. The small man completed out the constructions and was finally sunk low into the passenger seat of the Vehicle. He turned up the lapels of the coat and used them like a shield for his face. Slid down so low his feet were touching the underside of the dashboard. Where was Gordon going to take him if he wasn't taking him to jail?

" D-did you hear that Mr. Scarface? We're not going to jail yet. " The dummy clanked it's jaws and grumbled. " So yah whatever, where's he takin us then? " " I-I don't know sir. But.. I think we'll be all right. " " I tell yah we shoulda gone downtown. Yer a fucking Dummy. "

Wesker was jarred by James getting into the Vehicle and peeked out from beneath the collar of the coat. He looked at the taller man with a sad light. " Y.you could get in trouble, I don't want that to happen. But.. I thank yo... ouch! " Wesker jerked and then winced with a whimper. " P-please, don't bite me, Mr. Scarface. " Sheeze, nasty puppet.


Gordon: Gordon leaned down and fixed a bit of the coat that looked like it was considering making a ride outside the car. He shut the door, and walked around the front until he got to the drivers door. He reached down to get the driver's side door handle, and had it open slightly when a familiar voice spoke behind him.

"Sir, you can't be leaving already?"

He turned his head to the source of the voice. "Montoya, tell them to call me. An emergency's come up."

"Is everything all right sir?" she said with a great amount of concern.

He just shrugged. "I'll be back as soon as I can." With that he stepped in his car, careful to only open the door so far, and drive off, getting out of there as fast as he could and leaving the female detective perplexed in the dust.


Wesker: Oh no! Wesker had about lost his control and squealed when he heard Montoya's voice. It's over! We're caught. James'll be in trouble and Scarface and I are gonna be dead! He sunk down so low in the jacket he about disappeared. Thank goodness for Gordon's broad shoulders and taste in long coats.

Yet it seemed the Commissioner was cool as a cucumber and was able to snap out of the situation without the woman knowing that he had a cowering, schizophrenic and a evil dummy in his passenger seat.

It wasn't until they heading down that road did the little man popped his head out of the jacket. He used the sleeve of his Arkham uniform to wipe at the sweat on his forehead. Though all this did was smudge soot around on his poor head. " D-do you think she saw us? " He asked with a swallow.

" Was that chicky cop always hanging around the fat guy? " Scarface's own face popped out from between to Lapels and the Dummy clanged its jaws in a sleazy manner. " I wouldn't mind getting caught gy her, she's got a sweet ass! "

The Ventriloquist rather turned red and sunk back into the jacket, slowly pulling the dummy back in with him. Scarface could be so vulgar. He let out a cough. " Where.. where are we going? "


Gordon: Gordon groaned and reached over and bunched the fabric up over Scarface more so he could barely be heard, not taking his eyes off the road. "Come on, don't make me regret this." He sighed heavily.

"If I give you this chance-" he didn't really know how to finish that. Tell him he didn't want him to hurt him? Well, that should be fairly obvious. Share his trust? He didn't know how much he trusted Wesker really. All this was beginning to seem like a very bad idea.

He slowed down and turned off his siren. He took a really deep breath and sighed heavily again. "You're coming home with me, all right."


Wesker: There was always that last stretch of road before he got to his own house. Where he could turn around and just take Wesker right back to the station or to Arkham and let the rest of Gotham deal with this confused and sanity-questioned little man.

Home? He's taking you home? To his house? Wesker's mouth rather fell open, but at least the lapels hid his utter shock. He'd expected a shelter, maybe some kind of boarding house. Or maybe take him as far out of Gotham and let him run. But not his house.

This sudden notion had Wesker folding in on himself. Half of him was overjoyed, the other was suddenly so very very sad. He curled up into the jacket and rested his head against the door, muttering out a small " oh. " Scarface said something too. Sounded like 'pancakes' and 'housewife' and possibly 'scrugging toliets' but it was muffled into Wesker's chest.

This wasn't right. This man shouldn't be taking these risks. Not for me. Wesker wouldn't know what to do if Scarface got the upper hand again, and.. he hurt James. Or killed James. He barely got over missing Donnagon. It seemed anyone who tried to help him always ended up dead. If he kills James...

That's why you have to not let Mr. Scarface control you. Do as you promised him; get better. This could be your one chance, don't let Mr. Scarface ruin it.

Wesker nodded to himself and then hugged Scarface as tight as he could. He was not going to let the Dummy have another word the rest of the way there.


Gordon: Gordon joined Scarface in silence through the trip. He pulled into his driveway and used an automatic garage opener on his key chain. He waited patiently for the door to rise, wringing his steering wheel with white knuckles. Then he drove in and hit the button again and waited some more, finally glancing over at the curled Wesker.

It was hard to believe he could be so dangerous, curled up and frightened like that.

After a bit of pondering, he got out and walked around to the passenger side. He lightly knocked on the window to get Wesker's attention, so that with the way he was leaning if he opened the door he wouldn't topple out and break or anything. Then he reached down to grab the door handle.

"Keep him wrapped up tight, okay."


Wesker: This maybe will work out. Maybe.. He said he'd help me. They're won't be any drugs or any uncaring doctors telling me I'm crazy. Just him. Maybe.. I wonder if Mr. Scarface will suffocate against my shirt? That thought nearly had Wesker pull the dummy away, but he fought. At least the knocking on the window arose the Ventriloquist from his deep thoughts and he sat up and nodded at Gordon.

" Yes, yes sir. " He slid from the car and stood up inside the other's garage. A quick look around. It had been forever since he'd been in a REAL home. He'd spent the last ten-twelve years of his life in padded rooms, hotels, nightclubs, hospitals, and jail cells. A flurry of his brow because he suddenly couldn't even remember what it was like to just sit at a breakfast table and read a newspaper.

His free arm remained viced around Scarface. Keeping the dummy smushed against his chest. Gordon's coat hung like a cape on his smaller frame, the edges of it brushing against the hard floor. He was holding that dummy so tight the veins in his left arm were bulging under his pale skin. Stare long enough and one could see his heart beat pounding away. The dummy was not limp though. Its arms and legs occasional clanked, slapping and kicking under the coat. But Wesker did not let up, not going to let him talk, not till Mr. Gordon says to let him go. I don't care how mad he'll be at me.


Gordon: The door from the garage to the kitchen swung open and Gordon walked into his kitchen. It wasn't the state of Bullock's apartment, oh heavens no. No bugs, but plenty of dishes in the sink and still in the drainer. A pile of newspapers by the recliner in the living room. Had a want for vacuuming. A pretty homey place.

Oven mitts still dangled from where his wife last hung them. Furniture had enough dust to write your name in. He'd misplaced the duster and hadn't really had the desire to look for it. Most food in the kitchen was easy to make microwavable food. Busy men needed quick cooking.

Basically, it could have been better, but it could have been worse.

"You can take off the coat now," Gordon said, reaching to take the shoulders of it and help him remove it.


Wesker: Gordon could have been living in a Disco pad and Wesker wouldn't have complained one bit. He shuffled into the house looking meekly around. It was pretty obvious that the place was lacking a woman's touch anymore. Wesker remembered that Joker had killed this mans wife and he sniffled a moment for him. A hard swallow and he regained his composure.

At first his arm wouldn't budge. The shoulders were lifted and caught in Wesker's crossed arms. You can't keep him under this coat forever. James's here, he won't let Mr. Scarface hurt you. And yes, he actually trusted and believed in the other man. But it still wasn't going to quiet the uproar that sprang forth from the coat the moment Wesker relaxed his arm and pulled it away.

The Dummy emerged in great homage to any Aliens movie ( Only without the blood splatter ) with a screeching growl. Almost immediately, the wooden thing spun toward Wesker and slapped him upside his head.

" DUMMY! If you ever crush me like that again so help me GOD I'll choke every last greath from yer throat and feed you to the fuckin' fishes! " Slap! Slap! " I'm SORRY Mr. Scarface! " Wesker cowered down, slipping on the trail ends of the coat and ended up falling backwards against Gordon. Just trying to get away from those little wooden fists. Not so easy when they are coming from your own arm.

Gordon: He reached around Wesker and grabbed the Dummy by the neck, avoiding the nashing teeth of the ferocious little log's head. He clutched Wesker back against him with the other. "Stop! Stop Wesker!" he pleaded. He winced and held them apart. "Not already! Don't start this ALREADY!" He buried his lips against Wesker's head and closed his eyes completely.

"....Please... I'm not a psychologist, Arnold. I don't know how to take care of you. I just wanna keep you safe...." for a moment he considered taking him in right then. But it was just for a moment, just long enough for him to feel his heart beat against his arm.

"Help me keep you safe, Arnold. I just want it to work for once. At least until we catch the Black Mask."


Wesker: Oh and what a flurry of fright that heart would have been against the arm that looped tightly to his chest. A flurry moment of panic. Scarface's hands attempted to reach Wesker, despite the large hand wrapped around it's wooden neck.

Wesker froze. In return he could feel the taller man's rhythm against his back. The warm lips pressed to his head, the tickle of the mustache, the hot breath. All a reminder that this man was here to do what his words said he'd do.

He'd help him. He wanted to help him. Wesker wanted to be helped. But Mr. Scarface.. he...

Wesker's brows suddenly flowered down against his smudge up glasses and he yanked his arm out of the back of the puppet. Scarface's body movements died immediately, leaving the puppet dangling from Gordon's grip staring back at them both with its horrible unblinking glass eyes.

" you Dumm... "

It hurt. It hurt so bad to surpress the Scarface personality like that. It was like swallowing down a slimy lump of cold cooked noodles. " I-I want to help you.. I do.. I really do. . p-please don't give up on me.. p-please. " He pressed back tighter against the taller man, shut his eyes tight and hung his head. He didn't want to look at the dummy anymore.


Gordon: The dummy became heavier so suddenly it surprised Gordon. When he opened his eyes and looked up, and saw that it was hanging limply from his grip. He dropped it to his floor with a clatter and gave out a tearful laugh. He felt half crazy, having just broken up a fight between a man and his dummy after bringing said known felon onto his premises of his own free will. He sniffed and gave another laugh or two against Wesker's head.

"I'd tell you you can trust me, but you can't. Not after all I've done," his voice got shaky. "But I guess I uh... " sniff "can't trust you either with him around." He pulled his face up and slowly turned Wesker to face him.

"I cheated on my wife, Mr. Wesker. That's how I got Barbara. I cheated with my own damned sister-in-law when I had a great person waiting at home who should have been Barbara's mother. So she left me when I told her, and even though I eventually got her back, I lost so many years because I'd betrayed her."

"Wesker, I'm not gonna betray you, not if I can help it..."


Wesker: The dummy hitting the floor sent a sharp shiver up Wesker's spine. He was ready for Scarface to bark at him, to tell him to pick him up off the ground. But for now, the Dummy's voice did not snarl out at him. So the small man fought the urge to dive after the puppet and turned rather easily in Gordon's hands.

Swallowing hard he looked up at James as the man was suddenly spilling such a painful and deep secret to him. Wesker stared up at the sorrow in the other mans eyes and felt cold for a moment. It would have been a lie to say Arnold wasn't shock. This man was a pure symbol of good, wasn't he? But Wesker could still not find an ounce of strength in his body to pull away or to show any sign of discontent with this newfound information. Instead his own bottom lip trembled and he rather slumped forward. Arms curling up and around the Commissioners neck. " We... we all do things we regret, and that we can't just take back. " Speaking for both of them.

Face was turned into the other's neck and hands gripped to the other's shoulders. " I-I-I trust you anyway, I know.. I know you'll help me, you're the only one who can, the only one who ever really tried. I just.. I just d-don't know if I can keep Scarface from hurting you. " He dragged a sob against the taller mans neck. " But I'll try, I'll try so hard. Please don't doubt yourself. Please don't be sad. "

Was it strange that he didn't even want or need Scarface right now? He'd rather hold this man, even with such horrible truths in the air, then stick his hand up that monsters back. Maybe if he held on more, the less he'd ever want to go back.

Gordon: "Just as long as you try I'll try, okay? Just as long as you try-" his voice broke and for the sake of maintaining whatever dignity he had left, he remained quiet. He pressed his fingers through the scant hair on Wesker's head.

For a bit he just held him. Then he lowered his hands and slid them under his hips and bottom, hefting him up like a koala. "I'll take you to the bathroom so you can clean yourself up," he said quietly, and started through the house with him.

Pervious Chapter Next Chapter

Back to Fanfiction