The Arkham Asylum was cold, freezing even if you had never experienced such a change in temperature. According to some scientist in some lab who treated some patients, this was one of many factors that helped the criminally insane during therapy sessions.

Science has also proven that cold is what helps steel to crack, break, distort even.

Fun fact: the Arkham Asylum is constructed out of the finest steel in the world.

Sounds of pattering feet, alarms, and irritated sighs was the combination of noises that woke the young Wayne girl from her daily nap-on-the-slab; an irritated groan coming from her mouth as she turned over to face the cracked open door, viewing feet by the dozens pass her by. For a while, that's all she saw, passing feet, lights from the alarms, and worried expressions (when she bothered to look up), until her focus was interrupted by a pair of black dress shoes pulling the door open more. In an instant, the girl stood up, pushing her hair back into its proper positions and pulling on her coat.

"Dr. Wayne, we have a—uhm, slight emergency..."

"Our emergency light is going off."

"Yes well—,"

"Then this is not a slight emergency." she had immediately retorted, annoyed with the lack of urgency the man held compared to everyone else. "Give me a summary—I need coffee..." she muttered the last part under her breath as the two began walking out of the room; the sound of her heels on the floor swift compared to the mans rushed movements.

"Well the tools, you see we don't know if they were handmade or sent in a visitors gift, and we wouldn't have seen it if we hadn't personally gone to check on the inmate next door—or patient I suppose—so when we found him and the hole next to him we just—."

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, back up please." with the pieces still not coming together, Renée had cut him off—verbally and physically as she had stepped into the break room, already preparing herself a mug of fuel as she began to speak. "What tools, what hole, which patient, just what?" The man aside her sighed, almost out of breath as he sat down in a chair whilst resting his arm on its supporting table.

"Your patient, Cooper?" she had nodded at his question while taking a sip from her mug, though while she looked cool and collected on the outside, inside she felt like a chastising mother, wondering 'What did you do this time, Asshole'. With his next statement, however, Renée had almost felt herself spit out her drink. "He escaped."

"You're sure he's made it out of the building?"

"Well, no."

"And you're sure it was him who knocked Weston unconscious?"

"That we have on tape, yes."

"So where are the tools?"

"The what?" Renée felt herself groan once more—maybe this was the third time, or fourth, she really wasn't keeping count anymore. After finding out about Axels assumed escape, uncovering the snoring body he left behind, and overall trying to figure out how this all happened in a span of a seemingly normal twenty-four hours, all the brunette wanted to do was give up, go home, and take a bath, yet somehow whenever things involved the army boy she couldn't help but always be involved.

Pathetic.

"The tools, the assumed chisel he used to break through this. The mans strong but even he couldn't break through solid steel with his fists." the blonde intern had looked at her like she was crazy, beginning to sporadically flip through a legal pad in her hands; her voice quaking with every start of an assumed sentence before silencing herself to clear her throat. Annoyed by such being her constant response, Renée picked up the flashlight at her feet, peering down the almost endless hole at her feet.

"Well, we have—... Experts are—... The administrators said—," knowing what she was about to do was stupid, mindless, and again, stupid, the Wayne girl had turned to make sure the blonde wasn't facing her before silently taking off her heels, removing her jacket, and holding her breath as she jumped down into the bottomless pit.

And then everything was black.

Nearly two months ago, Renée found herself rigging the cameras in the cell wing Axel had been put in. Why, she had no idea, maybe she was drunk (impossible) or maybe she just didn't want to be alone (most likely), all she knew was that they had about three hours before anyone got any signal (that, however, was done by some forum hacker she hired who had a little too much energy for her taste).

When she had managed to slip in and convince him they were completely off the record, that's when the true conversation began; the talks of home, the talks of childhood dreams, and then somehow they got around to the industrial steel monopoly featuring Andrew Carnegie and JP Morgan.

It was then she made the mistake of telling him of the escaped patient decades ago; of the basement level they sealed off and noted as nothing beneath his very floor to cover up such a mishap.

It was then that she had ever heard his voice perk up in hope.

With a rough thud and stars of pain, she had finally found her way to the concrete of the sealed off floor; the sounds of sirens from the above floor completely gone from her ears as all she could hear was... Nothing.

Other than her own breathing, Renée felt as if the entire world was perfectly silent; there were no whispers from people nearby, there were no sounds of movement, no rustling nature, just completely and utterly perfect silence.

For once she was surrounded by nothing but her thoughts, and not even that, as when the silence seemed to seep into her skin she felt herself close her eyes and take a deep breath, for she was alone, and could finally finish her nap.

"Nice, isn't it?" the voice shattered the glass that was such a perfect moment, causing Renée to open one eye and look up into the eyes of another, bringing her face to face with Axel Cooper.

"It was, before you broke the enjoyment." she had responded in a monotone voice, holding up a hand and silently thanking him as he used such to pick her up. Once up on her bare feet, however, she shivered, though found herself focusing on her current surroundings; concrete wall here, concrete wall there, all bare concrete walls except for the two inhabitants. "So you did all of this for the quiet life of it all?" she questioned jokingly, though there was no response from the mass of muscles standing beside her, who instead just turned and picked up what looked like a jacket from the ground.

Still in the lovely silence, neither of them said anything much; Axel of course focused on his own conditions while Renée continued to observe, though this time the numbers on the jacket he picked up. Of course shes memorized his file, his attributes, social security and inmate number; all have been racking her brain as she attempted to understand the being that was Axel Cooper. Because of such, it was painfully obvious the jacket had a number that wasn't his, and quickly she made the correct assumption of it being the man who was uncovered unconscious.

"Didn't expect to cause such a commotion, did you?" she had asked him in a low voice, stepping in a circle to cause some sort of friction between her feet and the floor; her pencil skirt a bad choice for the day's journey. She heard a low chuckle in response though didn't react, still warming her feet with her steps before she noticed a hand in front of her face with two pairs of scratchy polyester socks. Polyester or not, she was quick to slide them on her feet.

"I expected a commotion, just not when I was still in the building." he had responded; his eyes watching her as she put the socks on her feet and nodding once they were on, almost as if she were a two-year-old learning to do so for the first time.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't mention the security very much, did I?"

"No, it could've helped me too. I would've been halfway to wherever by now..." She had watched as he seemed to trail off, looking around, almost anywhere but her which caused her gears to turn and turn and turn.

Everything was silent for a few moments as the two battled on what to do next. Was he to just go past her and out to where he planned? Was she to call for the guards and get them to also jump down the rabbit hole? Or were the two both deemed to stand there, silent, motionless, separate, and yet together.

After the silence began to feel less than comfortable, Renée had finally sighed, fishing into the pockets of her skirt before pulling a key off her keychain. While holding it in her hand she began reciting an address, ignoring Axel's confused expression until he finally stopped her.

"What the hell are you doing?" he had asked with his eyebrows furrowed, even more so as she gestured for him to outstretch his hand and she placed the key into his palm firmly.

"My apartment. There's no record of it in my name so you shouldn't be tracked. There's cash in a drawer by the sink so do me a favor and buy yourself something that doesn't scream 'I just escaped from jail'." Axel had merely blinked at her comment, glancing at the key she just placed in his palm and slowly closing a fist around it. "Oh and make sure you bathe and shave. You'll feel like a whole new man." she added, taking the flashlight in her hand and holding it out towards him. Hesitantly, he had taken it, his eyes still on Renée as she assumed he didn't trust her.

She didn't blame him if he didn't.

"Why?" he had asked as he still looked her in the eye as if he was the one trying to assess the motives of a loon.

"Because I know you want to go back after Margo." she stated bluntly in response, watching as he remained unchanged in position except for a swallow in his throat. "The way you look at me—yes I know you've come to see me as me but you still see her, don't you?" he said nothing in response to this, though Renée just used such as an excuse to keep going. "Do me a favor... Just go to the apartment, I'll be there in a few hours, we can make a plan for where you can go and hide out, we'll just... We'll figure something out, okay?" there was still nothing but silence, but when he had opened his mouth to speak she found herself continuing.

"I know she's taken the one man you truly cared for Axel, and I know what loss does to a person, but please... I don't want to know that's all you can be..." Her voice had gone quiet in the end as the two were eye to eye; tension breaking the surrounding airwaves and yet their steady breaths were almost in sync.

The sound of footsteps miles of concrete and steel above were faint in Renée's ear, getting louder along with voices as it seemed a squadron of people had reached the hole. In that instant, Axel had taken the flashlight from her hand and broke out into a quiet run, causing her breath to hitch itself in her throat and her eyes to fall into a close.

Minutes had passed before she had done anything, and once she did, she screamed.

"Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Are you sure? Cause I read this article on Buzzfeed about underground cellars and if you were stuck down there there's a 27.4 percent chance you've acquired some sort of biologically engineered disease."

With her key halfway into her door, Renée had felt herself stop, turning to the Grayson girl beside her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not sure if I should be surprised by the fact that you've recently read a Buzzfeed article or that their percentage was incredibly precise."

"But surprises are what makes the world so delightful," Robin—the only person in the world the Wayne girl could ever call a friend—spoke in a semi sarcastic tone, causing the two to laugh after she had pushed the door open to allow their entrance.

"Either way, I think if any strange disease manifested itself in my body, I'd know by now." Renée had retorted with a point of her finger, tossing her keychain onto her island and dropping her jacket on a chair. "Or maybe this is when you're starting to notice. A month is an optimum amount of time." Immediately, the first thing she did was pour herself a tall glass of wine as the other girl had responded, sighing to herself at the fact that the 'Axel Incident' one month ago ended in an obvious misplace of trust and ignorant actions.

When she had come home that day the tv was left on, and because of this Renée assumed Axel was somewhere in the apartment, casual as she entered and took a glance around before calling out his name. After no response she actually bothered to look around the rooms, finding the floorboard under which she kept all her foreign bills empty and the drawer of regular cash she told him of empty as well—well, all except for the handful of dimes.

After that there was radio silence; she had been brought into questioning though nothing major happened. Life returned to its old ways, and eventually, Renée did too.

"Guess we'll have to find a certified doctor—oh, wait..." the Wayne trailed off with a small smirk, taking a sip from her glass and earning an eye roll from the other girl who was currently going through her mail. They began yet another mindless conversation before Robin had stopped responding, peering up at the girl across from her with a postcard in hand.

"So who do you know in Honduras?" she questioned her lightly, sliding the card across the counter for the other girl's eyes to see. Looking at it, Renée had almost scoffed; the edges were completely torn and the stamps placed hurriedly in corners, though this wasn't what seemed to elicit such a response—no, it was the mere 'IOU' written in a memorable chicken-scratch handwriting on the back that caused her to almost chortle.

Putting the card in the drawer where she still kept the handful of dimes, Renée found herself taking another sip of her drink with the smallest of smiles.

"Just an old patient."