THE COURTHOUSE

Every seat in the courtroom was filled that morning and up in the gallery, bodies were packed in so tightly it was surprising that there any air was left to breathe. Low murmurs echoed across the high ceiling and old brick walls, wooden floors creaking beneath shuffling feet and clearing of throats noticeable by the overarching silence that drowned the room.

Carla had never felt nervous in court, not even on her very first appearance only days after starting at Arkham. She believed in herself and in her craft, her intelligence and the skill of her techniques that allowed her to derive the most accurate of diagnosis for her patients, making standing up in court and reading out her statement as easy as taking a walk in the park.

She still didn't feel nervous on the day of Jonathan Crane's trial though despite not being the one facing any charges, Carla felt riddled with guilt. She'd come to know almost all of the familiar faces in the room with her and although she didn't consider any of them besides Harvey and Rachel friends, the impact they'd had on her day to day life only became apparent to her when she realised that from that day on, nobody would see her in the same way again.

Having barely slept after Bruce left the night before, Carla was drained when she finished up the last of the outstanding paperwork that morning. She arrived at court and locked herself in an empty office to prepare for trial, unable to stomach anything but cups of water instead of hot coffee, avoiding the gaze of colleagues and associates that passed her in the hallways.

She hadn't seen Harvey to talk to and for that, she was grateful. As Carla rose to her feet from the bench when called upon by the judge, she could feel the District Attorney's blue eyes piercing her from a few feet away, silence apart from the shuffling of papers and the scraping of the chair on the floor beneath her feet.

Carla didn't want to let Harvey down. She didn't want to let Rachel down. She didn't want to let Bruce down and she didn't want to let herself down either, but when push came to shove, she quickly realised that there was only one option for her to take.

And so, Carla stood in front of the courts with her statement in her hand, head held high and eyes gleaming white as if she had gotten a full nights sleep, looking immaculate in an black Dior mini dress and heels with a blazer covering her arms, makeup sharp and refined and hair glossed smooth and straight, nothing less than perfect.

She didn't look at Harvey but from her peripheral vision could see him staring at her, an echo of his heart thumping so loudly it landed in her own ears, though that could've quite easily have belonged to Jonathan, too. The defendant stood a six-man distance away from her in a suit and tie, no longer with his hands in silver cuffs. Carla didn't look at him either but she'd dared to steal a glimpse of him earlier and had felt imposed with unease as she weighed up her decision for one last time, not wanting harm to come to anybody she cared about, and that still included Jonathan.

The room waited for her to speak and when not even the rising and falling of lungs could be heard anymore, Carla lined up her files and looked toward the judge.

"Your Honour, I have conducted every necessary procedure and analysis on the defendant outlined by the Gotham Standard Law. Based on the findings I presented earlier on in today's session, my diagnosis is that the defendant is not of sound mind and if charged, should serve any sentence within the confines of Arkham Asylum where treatment will be given. In my professional opinion, sentencing the defendant to serve time in Gotham County Jail will lead to a further detriment of an already unstable mental state, and I would strongly insist on the rehabilitation that Arkham Asylum will provide instead."

"Thank you Doctor Fiori," the Judge banged his gavel, "Court adjourned."

Carla grabbed her belongings and stormed out of the courtroom within seconds, heading straight back into her office to pick up the rest of her things before planning on making a b-line for her car now her required attendance was over.

The door burst open and slammed closed again when Carla was sliding her laptop into her bag, Harvey standing in front of the desk with a clenched jaw and furious eyes, skin burning almost red with anger as he looked at her with a shake of his head.

"I knew it," he said, voice laced with poison he couldn't wait to spit from his lips, "I didn't want to be right but I knew you were working with Falcone. How could you lie to me? How could you do this? Did Bruce not talk to you?"

"I told you before that you don't know what you're talking about, and you still don't. Neither does Bruce, neither do any of you. I did what I had to do in there, Harvey."

He scoffed and narrowed his eyes sinisterly at her, a fire within the blue that upset her more than anything else ever had, hatred coming from a man that had only ever been kind to her. The sight broke her heart.

"This doesn't just affect you, Carla, it hurts all of us. My reputation could be ruined because of this. I stood by your side, backed you through everything with my chest and you repay me by tarnishing what I've worked so hard to achieve. How could you?"

Her face hardened and throat tightened with unease, picking up the last of her belongings and brushing past him to get to the door. Carla looked at him once more before leaving, sincerity swimming in her eyes while his only continued to burn.

"I'm sorry, Harvey. You were always a good friend to me."

What Harvey hated the most was the fact that her words sounded like a goodbye.

THE ICEBERG LOUNGE

"It's done."

Carla stormed into the familiar haunt that afternoon with fire burning the soles of her feet and a sickness in her chest that hasn't shifted in the fresh air or the release of tension that court had buried her with.

"So I've heard," Carmine tapped ash from a cigar into a porcelain tray, "The verdict just came in. Crane's going to Arkham. Job well done."

Carla wanted to grab the cigar and push it into his eyes. She wanted to pull the tie that hung around his neck and choke him until he turned blue. She wanted to take the bottle of Jack that was sitting on the table and smash it over the top of his head before shredding his skin to pieces with the broken shards and watch him bleed out across the white leather furniture.

"You have an end of this bargain to hold up too," she said, swallowing her malicious fantasies, "I did my job. You do not touch him. You do not put even so much as a scratch on his body. You stay away from him, he has no part in this and he never did."

Carmine smiled lazily, "I'm a man of my word. No harm will come to Bruce Wayne. Is that all you came here for?"

"No," she breathed out shakily, though inhaled strongly and pushed back her shoulders, running on a cocktail of adrenaline and fury, "I want out. There's nothing else I can give you, my reputation and all my credibility has gone up in flames after today. There's nothing for me here, everything good that I had, now despises me. There's no life for me here and there's nothing I can offer you anymore, my name is stained red. I want out."

He leant forward across the glass table and clasped his hands together, nudging aside the glass with his knuckles. Carla stayed stood on her feet, staring at him as he waved a hand to the staff loitering around the empty bar, all of them disappearing into the back.

"People in my business don't get an out, Carla."

She scoffed and scowled, "Don't I know it. Dante and Santino wanted and out and look at what happened to-"

"You dare speak about them."

"I will," Carla persisted, her voice raising with her temper and the fire in Carmine's blazing eyes, "They wanted nothing to do with you or this horrible life and you wouldn't let them leave and they wound up-"

Carmine rose to his feet and slammed a fist down on the table, his shout hollow and thunderous as he glared at Carla, "Shut your fucking mouth, you hear me?"

She didn't flinch at his scorn, nor at the way he looked at her with far more hatred than Harvey Dent had done earlier that afternoon. Carla had heard Carmine shout before and she'd been on the receiving end of the flame many a time, enough times to be able to look at him blankly in retaliation as if he'd said nothing at all.

He lowered himself back down onto the chair, not taking his eyes away from her as his ragged breathing slowed and the angry flush drained from his cheeks.

"You do as I say," he said quietly, the walls no longer shaking from the sound and the ice inside his glass clinking slower then, "You remain in Gotham and do what I tell you to do. There are no outs. If you try, you know what I'll do."

"If you fucking touch Bruce I swear to God I'll-"

"You'll what?" He breathed with a teasing laugh, "What will you do?"

Carla had an answer to his question but instead of giving it to him, she looked him up and down with a distasteful glare that turned into an unimpressed laugh before strutting out of the bar with veins filled with fire.

HOME

"I'm sorry Mr Wayne, she's not in right now. I don't know when she'll be back but-"

Louis' cheeks turned bright pink with embarrassment when Carla walked from the elevator into the lobby of her apartment building. His eyes widened from behind his rectangular glasses and his shoulders heaved backwards with a sharp intake of panicked breath, gaze darting between her and Bruce.

"Well, it seems like there's two liars in the building."

Carla glared at Bruce, "You leave Louis alone, he was just doing what I asked him to," she walked past both of them towards the post room, "I thought you were more polite than that."

She scanned a QR code from her phone on a reader and let her eyes trail across the long stretch of vaults that reached the ceiling for the corresponding number, huffing with frustration when the lockbox that sprung open was out of her reach.

Bruce had been a few steps behind her, standing staring with a raised brow when he noticed which box Carla's parcel was in and knowing there was no way she was able to reach it.

She didn't say anything, simply stepping out of the way and watching as Bruce didn't hesitate to reach up and grab her parcel, closing the vault and handing the cardboard box from Nordstrom to her.

Carla took it and held back any thanks, though didn't object when he followed her towards the elevators. Louis avoided the billionaire's eyes when they passed by him again, though relaxed a little when Carla gave him, in her terms, a friendly smile.

Almost no attention was paid to Bruce when they were both back inside Carla's apartment, all of her interest seemingly diverted towards the new pair of shoes that she began to unbox at her coffee table. She didn't appear upset or distraught about the turmoil she'd caused that day, appearing as cold and emotionless as Bruce remembered her being on the day that they'd first met.

It was haunting to witness and even more chilling to really think about, Bruce not being able to shake the anger he'd heard from Harvey down the phone earlier on that day, though equally unable to forget the revelation Alfred had shared the night before.

The news had kept Bruce awake all night after he and Alfred spent two more hours sifting through any information they could find about Carla and her family, every stone they turned painting her world a darker shade of black than Bruce had ever known to exist.

He watched her for a while, sitting down on a chair opposite the couch as she peeled back tissue paper and examined her new high heels in the city night lights streaming through the huge windows.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He eventually said, pulling down the teeth of the cream quarter-zip sweater he had on and relaxing his hands on the arms of the chair.

Carla looked up at him, blinking once before saying, "I did what I had to do."

He scoffed, "No you didn't. You didn't have to practically drag Harvey's career down with you, you didn't have to destroy your own career. You didn't have to do any of it, Carla. If you'd have just told me about-"

"I did what I had to do."

The strong tone he was met with matched the narrowed gaze that froze him too, silenced by her abrasive cutoff and the long stare she gave him before looking back down at the shoes.

"You chose to lie to me, to Harvey and Rachel, to kill friendships and relationships and for what? For the sake of Jonathan Crane? For Falcone?" Bruce shook his head slowly, sighing with discontent as she slammed the shoebox shut and jumped to her feet.

"I did it for you."

"What?"

Carla stared at him then, watching the way his eyes widened and lips parted just a whisper. He'd clearly arrived that evening with an intent of showering her in even more guilt, an agenda in his mind of things he thought he knew and things he thought he understood. Though really, just like she'd said to Harvey, neither of them knew what they were talking about.

The long list of things Bruce wanted to say suddenly disappeared from the front of his mind, rendering him speechless as he could do nothing but look at Carla and wait for her to explain, though had little faith that she actually would.

"I did what was necessary, that's all you or anyone else needs to know."

Carla grabbed the shoebox and disappeared into the bedroom though Bruce was quick to follow after her, stunned into waiting a few moments still before he could bring himself to his feet. The confusion was almost paralysing and although he'd been faced with a labyrinth of altering information the night before, Bruce hadn't planned for anything else to change the walls he thought he knew again.

"What are you talking about? What do you mean you did it for me?"

His tone was almost bitter and it made Carla scoff. She shoved away the new shoes and closed the wardrobe, looking into his eyes before barging past his board shoulder, only to be grabbed by the wrist and pulled back.

"Talk to me."

Carla's jaw clenched and she met his hazel eyes, his warm fingertips scolding her cold skin and making her shiver beneath the softness of an all black loungewear set, hair falling neatly down her back, face cleansed and bare.

She didn't care for the pettiness of Bruce coming to her apartment to make her feel even worse than she already did and while Carla had no intention of ever telling him anything to do with the truth, the way he felt painfully ungrateful and naively out of touch changed her mind.

"It runs deeper than this," she said sharply, "A lot deeper. But the statement I read out in court today, I read to keep you alive. I didn't want to do it, it made me sick. But my choices were either that or watch someone kill you. So yes, I did what I had to do, Bruce."

Carla yanked her arm out of his grip and walked away, steadying herself with slow breaths and composure that had been lost to anger that she didn't want to feel.

Bruce swallowed, breathless and stunned into silence once more after she left him standing alone. He'd considered what felt like endless situations, millions of scenarios that Carla might've been trapped in, tangled up in, reasons why her hand might've been forced, but never for a second did he think of himself as having any part to play.

Perhaps it was because for the longest time Carla had seemed so cold, unaffectionate and uninterested in him. She had never exactly showered him in compliments or made her feelings for him known, jumped through hoops to get his attention and jumped through even more to keep it, but that was one of the reasons he liked her.

She didn't boast about his money or his power or talk to journalists when they hounded her outside the courthouse and up until the last two weeks, Bruce still wondered whether Carla even really liked him. And as much as he thought he'd started to understand the signs she gave as her guard lowered around him, he'd clearly underestimated just how strong her feelings for him had been.

"You didn't have to do that," he said, walking back out into the living room and finding Carla stood by the window with her arms folded, "You once told me that I don't owe you anything. You sure as hell didn't owe me this. I could've handled it, defended myself."

"No you couldn't," she shook her head.

Bruce wanted to laugh, knowing that he quite easily could've single-handedly wiped out any and all of Falcone's men if it came down to it, but that was a fact that had to remain unspoken.

"You don't know them," Carla continued quietly, "You don't know what he's done, what he's capable of, you haven't seen the things that I have. I couldn't let that happen to you."

It was by far the rawest confession of her feelings that Bruce had heard, and one that made his stomach turn in the same breath. Nobody besides Alfred had ever cared for him that much, never valued his life that highly, never had an urge to protect him even at the cost of losing him and his trust.

To think he'd spent months wondering if Carla felt the same way about him as he did about her suddenly made him feel like a fool, and the way her dark eyes melted in the moonlight before him made Bruce kick himself in regret, wondering how he'd never seen the emotion in her before.

"Why didn't you tell me about your brothers?"

The shock visibly lifted Carla's shoulders and cleaned her eyes wide, "W-what...how do you..."

She felt her heart sink through her ribcage and splinter through the soles of her feet, draining her bones of everything except sadness, leaving that and that alone to linger in her watery eyes and muted frown.

Bruce walked over to her slowly, his face no longer holding the anger or resentment it had earlier on, impossible for him to feel that way now he knew what he knew.

"I know everything," he whispered.

She let out a weary breath and shook her head, "Then why are you still here?"

It was a valid question and one that Bruce wasn't exactly sure how to answer. The truth was dark, darker than the cave he'd surrounded his life with and darker than the shadows he spent his nights in, but he knew Carla didn't belong there, even if she didn't know it herself.

Bruce touched her face, lifting both hands to rest his palms across her jaw and brush thumbs at her cheekbones. Her eyes looked up at him with brows raised nervously, an emotion he'd never seen in her before, something pure and undiluted that he wanted to kiss away entirely.

"I'm not going anywhere, Carla."

He felt her smaller hands reach up and trace his wrists, fingers wrapping gently around his arms as he watched her let out a sigh of what he thought was relief that he was there, and that he was safe, serenity in his hazel eyes that settled her racing heart.

"I'd never have let them hurt you," she whispered, blinking back tears and swallowing them too, trying keeping her face strong though ultimately reaching her breaking point when his gaze left her own to place a kiss against her forehead.

"And I'll never let them lay a hand on you."

an;;
wow this chapter was an emotional ROLLERCOASTER I hope ur all okay😭 I can't believe how many reads this little book is getting, I seem to say it all the time but thank you so so so much, it means the world. I hope you're still enjoying reading!! <3