revmeup | call me out

Harley props herself up on one elbow and watches him with a frown. She doesn't want to put any pressure on him or touch him suddenly in case it manifests in his nightmare as an attack.

"Babe," she whispers, "Hey, Malcolm. It's okay. Wake up."

With a gasp, his eyes shoot open. He's out of the dream enough to not jump or attack Harley, but he does turn his frightened eyes towards her. Malcolm sighs and rubs at his face, adjusting to his new state of consciousness.

"Did I hit you?" he asks.

She shakes her head and kisses him on the temple.

"No, I woke you up before it got that bad."

Harley runs her fingers across his brow and over his hair. His first concern had been for her, even for this. God, he's so good. She loves him like crazy.

"You want to talk about it?"

Malcolm closes his eyes, glad that he didn't hurt her. He's hoping so badly that this first night sleeping in the same bed won't end in a disaster.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather sleep upstairs so that you can actually sleep?" he asks, knowing already what her answer will be. She's not going to leave. Her fingers in his hair are soothing and he takes a deep breath.

"It was Ainsley. She was coming after me with a knife."

"No sisters here. Fuckton of knives, though."

She keeps petting his hair, happy to do it as long as it helps him relax.

"Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep?"

"I'm going to try at least. I might wake you up again." Malcolm takes her free hand in his and laces their fingers together. "We've talked about it before, but I'm worried about her."

Ainsley hasn't been charged with any crime yet, but the DA is still debating, still seeing if there's enough evidence for murder.

Harley squeezes his fingers. If they had called her first, she could have made the crime scene disappear. Thrown off the trail of evidence, at least long enough to create an alibi. She handled that business all the time in Gotham for Joker's associates, but she's out of that life and Malcolm wouldn't want her to go back.

Too bad she can't bleach away the trauma.

"Maybe you should call her in the morning."

He knows she could have cleaned the crime scene. Malcolm didn't want to do that. Then he would be just as bad as Endicott himself.

Lifting their twined hands to his lips, he kisses the back of hers. "I will. She hasn't been the same, for obvious reasons."

Harley is quiet for a long moment, just listening to his breathing in the dark.

"Should I talk to her?"

After all, Malcolm knows how to find murderers but Harley has actually been one. It isn't something they ever talk about, as if not acknowledging it can magically make it go away.

"If you want to," he replies. It's nice of her to offer. Malcolm knows she's more equipped to talk with Ainsley about what she might be feeling than he is.

It's not that he'd ever be unwilling to talk with Harley about the fact that she's killed before, just that he hates to think of her that way. He cares about her too much to think of her as the thing that he hunts for a living.

"I love you."

"I don't want to, but I will."

Harley keeps running her fingers through his hair with a smile. Now that he's let himself say the words, he doesn't seem able to stop saying it. She can't say she minds.

"Go back to sleep, babe."

Malcolm nods, closing his eyes again. Her fingers in his hair are so soothing. Normally he's the type that has to play the hero, the one who has to take care of everyone. It's so nice to be taken care of for a change. Harley's gently attentions send him drifting back to sleep once more.

call me out

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