A/N I don't own anyone. Darn, now you all know my dirty little secret.

Warning: This story contains semi-mature content do to the implied use of drugs. It's borderline M rating, but it won't be so graphic you'll have nightmares. This is a dark-fic though, so if you want a nice little fluffy fic this won't exactly be it.

Pairings: Huntress/Question, possible Batman/Wonder Woman

Three messages.

That's why she was here. Three new messages on her phone. From Vic.

Three stupid messages because she couldn't answer the damn phone because she was almost on the damn plane and figured it could wait fourteen hours.

Helena had never felt so guilty.

Why? Because Vic might die because of her. Because she didn't answer her freaking phone her baby might not ever hold her close again. All because she didn't just pick it up.

She felt numb as she watched the nurses and doctors run around like chickens without heads not even knowing why she was here. Well, she knew why she was here; because of Vic. But she didn't know why he was here.

She knew that he knew that what he was going to do was going to be possibly lethal. She could tell by the sound of his voice and the way he was speaking to her.

The first message; "Uh, Helena, I know I'm not supposed to call you while you're away on your school trip to Europe but, uh, I just need to talk to you, okay? Just for a few minutes, please? It's important but, it's-it's okay if you can't."

He sounded a little off. Almost nervous, but not to the point of worry.

The second message came about three hours later. "H-Helen, baby, I need to talk to you soon, okay? S-something happened while you were away and it's just...I-I'm beginning to doubt everything's real and I just need to hear your voice. Soon, please."

He sounded desperate and scared. Like something was going terribly wrong and she was the only one who could stop it.

The last message; "G-God I'm sorry about this Helena, so, so sorry but it-it'll be okay now. I'll be okay now. Just need this. So sorry Helen, God I never wanted you to find out, not like this but-God I'm so, so sorry, please know that. Please remember that because I-I don't know if... I just need it so bad and I-I love you Helena, honestly. I just thought that if I talked to you that maybe I could...No use. Need it. Sorry, God, I'm so, so sorry."

He sounded so guilty, at the verge of tears. She'd never heard him sound so desperate, either.

She was scared to think about what he needed so badly.

"Are you Ms. Bertinelli?" A doctor asked poking his head through the door.

"Wh-Yes." Helena said jolted out of her guilty thoughts. "Why's he here? What the hell is going on?"

"Sorry, that's classified information, but I'm sure if-"

"Tell me!" She demanded.

"I-I can't ma'am. All I'm allowed to say is the likely hood of the patients survival."

She felt her knees weaken; doctors only allowed that if the patient was in critical condition. Why did he-I mean how did-What? "What?" She choked out.

"I'm only allowed to say the-"

"I heard what you said!" She snapped. "What is it?"

"What's what?"

"What do you think you flipping moron; the likely hood!" Helena snarled.

"W-Well I don't think you should know in such a fragile state-"

She grabbed the doctor by his collar and slammed him against the wall. "If you don't tell me right now we'll see just how 'fragile' of a state I'm in!" She threatened. Why wasn't anyone telling her anything?

"W-Well if you couple the deteriorating of the valula-"

"Numbers, doc, give me numbers!" She shouted furiously.

"Well, there-there's an 80% chance he won't make it." The doctor said quickly.

Helenas' eyes went wide with shock as she let go of the mans collar while he scrambled away down the hall. Vic might die? There might not be a semi-psychotic, paranoid, red-head conspiracy theorist laying next to her when she woke up anymore? Her babydoll might just...die?

"N-no." She mumbled into the empty hallway. "There's gotta be a mistake or something..."

"There isn't a mistake." Someone said behind her. "I don't make mistakes."

She closed her eyes and curled her fists. No way could she do this now, no way in hell could she deal with the goddamn Batman when her Q might not live to see another day.

"What the hell do you want?" She spat, not turning around.

"Do you know why you're here?" Batman suddenly asked, ignoring her question.

"Because Q's here." She said wondering how such a smart man could be so dumb.

"But do you know why he's here?"

"No one will tell me, so no, I don't!" She half-shouted.

"He suffered a relapse. Something set him off." Bruce continued.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Helena demanded.

"Vic had a relapse." Bruce repeated.

"Oh you cannot be serious!" Helena exploded. "As much as I appreciate you coming here and screwing with me I need to find out why the hell Vic's here!"

"He didn't tell you, did he?" Batman continued, that slight note of smugness threatening to send Helena off the edge.

"Tell me what? How he manages to some how put up with you League idiots?" She huffed. "Quit wasting my time."

"Not to long ago, Vic was very, very into drugs. Heroin, Marijuana, Cocaine, Valium, Ganja, over the counter pills, everything and anything he could get. He quit, obviously, but he had a relapse, which is why he's here."

"And you expect me to believe that?" Helena glared. "Do you know how much trouble I went through to get him to even take the freak'n pain killers after Cadmus? The man doesn't even like getting shots at the doctors' office and you expect me to believe he's a junkie?"

"Did you ever think it was because it might have stirred up some old memories?" Batman inquired.

"Look, I'm the Huntress; I deal with addicts all the time. Don't you think I would have noticed if he started smoking it up in our living room?"

"Was. He was a junkie." Batman frowned. "We all know Vic's a little strange, so it wouldn't be that surprising if you never noticed."

Huntress clenched her teeth. "Vic tells me everything, okay? I'm pretty sure something that important would have came up eventually. Trust me, I know Q like the back of my hand and everything about him. I would have known that."

"Everything?" Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Do you know that his real name is-"

"Charles Victor Szazs, yeah, he told me." Helena said.

"Did he tell you where he grew up?"

"Yeah, The Hub, in some orphanage. That's why I was spared the whole 'meeting the parents' thing."

"Are you sure you really know that?"

"Well I suppose you just know so much about him?" She snarled. "Vic told me how you've barely said three words to him since he and I started dating three years ago!

"Interesting. Did he tell you about how he managed to get into college on his own before getting kicked out after a fight because he was on a high? Did he tell you who made his mask or-"

"Vic went to college?" Helena blurted before she could stop herself.

Batman grinned slightly. "See, you don't know him as well as you think you do."

Helena bit her lip. "Shut up. Just because he didn't say that he went to college doesn't mean he did drugs."

"Do you know who brought him here?"

She ignored the feeling of dread in her stomach. "Who?"

"Me. Know how I found him?"

Helena was silent.

"In a corner of your apartment nursing a needle in his arm. Do you know what was in that needle?"


"Heroin. Enough to make an active addict feel a little sick, and for someone who hadn't taken it in years it's enough of a dose to kill them. He should be happy I found him when I did."

"What, do you want a thank-you note or something?" She was surprised at how strong her voice was, because suddenly she felt very weak.

"No. But I suggest you learn a little more about your boyf-Vic."

"You can't even say 'boyfriend', can you?" Helena asked, changing the subject. "Because even though we've been together three and a half years you can't except us a couple."

"Those three years couldn't have meant much, judging by the current situation." Batman said tonelessly. "Now as I said before, something made him spiral. I'll investigate to see if I can figure it out, but in the mean time you should poke around too."

In a small attempt at sympathy he added, "Don't be so upset he didn't tell you. He didn't tell me, either."

"Then how'd you find out?" She whispered.

His lips twitched into a small, rare grin. "I'm Batman."

Of course you are. Helena thought bitterly watching him leave. But even Batman can be wrong. And I really, really hope you are.

The door opened again. "Uh, Miss, you can see him if you want. But he's in critical condition so-"

She shoved the doctor aside as she barreled into the room, unsure of what to expect.

She hand flew to cover her mouth. Vic was lying on a bed, red hair a dull mess, eyes closed and sunken in, skin so pale it was almost luminescent, and hooked up to a cluster of machines controlling his fate.

"Wha-how did he get this-what happened to him?" She whispered. "Tell me, please."

A nurse looked at her pitifully. "An overdose, sweetie. An overdose on a relapse. His body hadn't used the drug for so long, and when he got it he took too much."

"Oh." She choked out, tears in her eyes. "Is-is he going to be okay?"

"Well, there's a twenty percent chance he'll make it. And under the circumstances, that's pretty hopeful."

Oh, Vic. Helen thought feeling tears run down her cheeks.

What have you done to yourself?

A/N This isn't going to be a super long fic, probably only 3-5 chapters long.

A/N Review please!