< just_muse_me - Lost - Part 1 >
Nadine Lewis
Batman (OC)
524 words
Three weeks ago, Harvey Dent went out into the Narrows at one o'clock in the morning.
By itself, the event was commonplace. He often received calls, tips about whomever he had sought recently. He always left soon after those calls came. On that night, he'd made sure that his fourteen-year-old daughter was sound asleep in her bed, and he kissed his wife goodbye.
He never returned.
Twenty-four hours worried Nadine Dent, and seventy-two found her in tears, holding her daughter Duela close while whispering that she didn't need to cry. Duela never had the heart to tell her mother that she was the one who was crying.
Not that the girl didn't cry. She saved her tears for when she was alone in her room, crouched against the door. She cried when Jonathan Crane was there to comfort her mother, was there to hold Nadine close and whisper in her ear. Even he couldn't stop what was coming, try as he did.
After three weeks without any word from her husband, Nadine Dent was lost. Even when Harvey was angry at her, he was never gone for more than a few days. They screamed at one another, shouted, threw things. He stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Sometimes a day and sometimes four later, he would be back. He'd pull his wife into his arms, usually have a necklace waiting, and they would return to their lives. When Harvey went out on business, he always returned before the next night or at least called.
Even with a lack of news reports, Nadine knew the truth. Harvey was dead. Maybe the body had been hidden, maybe it had just been thrown into Gotham Bay. Maybe it had been burned, even the good side of his face beyond recognition. However it had happened, Nadine knew her husband was dead. She'd known for several days. Maybe she'd known for three weeks. Today, though.
Today she felt it.
Every day, it had been a little harder to get out of bed. Every day, she'd spent a little more time crying for Harvey. Last night, she'd dreamed of him, climbing into bed, kissing her, holding her close, swearing he'd never leave. She'd woken up alone, clutching the sheets on his side of the bed.
Duela was at school, safe and sound. She'd stay late today with the debate team. Jonathan would make sure nothing happened to her.
Nadine uncapped the pill bottle in her hands and poured out several into her hand. They were so small. There had to be at least fifteen. She picked up a glass of water from the bedside table, and she drank. A second mouthful of water helped to swallow the pills, and she took another drink to make sure they went down.
As the woman shut her eyes, she thought she heard her husband say her name, felt his hand on her cheek. Her muscles relaxed while she turned onto her side, curling up against the warm body she felt, reveling in the strong arms that wrapped around her. She felt flesh under her hand, rather than the cloth of the pillow she touched as sleep overtook her.
( Part II)