Hi dere guys, I'm back! With another attempt to write my OTP. So recently (or maybe not so recently, took me a couple months to get the whole story finished) I read Arkham Reborn. Basically it's an attempt to depict Arkham's madness, how it drags down everyone around it, and Jeremiah Arkham's transition to Black Mask.

Sometimes she would forget how much pain there was in his world. How much darkness. How much madness.

And then suddenly it would become all too clear.

He fought an endless battle every day, and no one admired that more than she. She, who fought to protect the innocent - as he did, every minute of his life. But sometimes she wondered what he could have been. What he could have achieved.

And what they could have become.

Diana shivered. It was a cold night in Gotham, and her costume offered no protection from the elements. The Justice League had elected to send her to check up on Batman, who had been incommunicado the past week. She had to admit that she was feeling just a little worried for Batman, for though he liked his privacy, he never ignored a comm call.

"Commissioner Gordon," she said, acknowledging the man who was walking up behind her. He nodded. "Wonder Woman. You called?" Gordon said shortly.

"I'm here on urgent business for the League," she explained quickly. "I'm looking for Batman."

Gordon frowned, looking perturbed. "There's been... some trouble over at Arkham Asylum. Some mad doctor. I think he's over there trying to put things right."

"Got it," Diana said, nodding in thanks, as she took off in the direction of the infamous asylum.

When Diana reached the asylum, she touched down past the dark steel gates, and craned her neck towards the asylum. It was an interesting mix of classical and gothic design - the tall, cavernous mouth of a puma as a doorway, the torsos of Zeus adorning the sides of the building, and a curious web-like insignia emblazoned on the front-most wall. There was a strange, eerie hush - almost like the asylum was waiting for something, for someone.

And she didn't like it.

Carefully, she made her way past the doors of the building and stepped into a dark corridor. The walls were made of glass, and they looked into large cells with varying facilities. She narrowed her eyes at the sight of Killer Croc, basking imperiously in his oversized tub - remembering how he had almost come close to ripping off her leg, how he had torn off Aaron Cash's hand in a rampage of insane fury.

As she walked past, the inmates came to the glass, pressed their faces against it, and called out to me. "Wonder Woman," they called, their voices malicious, like the hiss of Medusa's snakes. "Wonder Woman."

She was ignoring them, and walking past, intent on her purpose, when suddenly, there was a quiet, choking giggle on her left.

It echoed round the room, and it mixed with the hollow, empty sounds of water dripping... Dripping.

This was hell, and she was in it.

"Victor Zsasz," she said, with an attempt to veil her surprise at the sudden outburst, to the man who had made the sound. He stumbled off his bed and came closer to her. He leaned forward, and touched the glass with one finger. His naked torso was covered with notches - one, they said, for every one of his victims. She lifted her lip in a snarl of barely-repressed disgust.

He sensed her repulsion, and smiled, pulling back his gums to reveal yellow teeth.

"You're looking for the Batman," he breathed, fogging up the already hazy glass, while she took a few hesitant steps away. She was curiously drawn to and repelled by him, this exhibition of the lowest form of mankind. "You don't know what you're up against. This place can break a man. It breaks everyone... Everyone. Even the doctor. Even the Batman. Even you."

Diana paused in her flight, and turned towards him. "What do you mean?" she said sharply. "What do you mean?"

He threw back his head and gave a malicious howl of laughter. And the others joined in... Their voices, joined in a chorus of madness. The harsh screams of mocking laughter, the jeering faces of madmen... The insanity of those beyond help.

"The mad doctor," hissed Zsasz. "He'll get you, Wonder Woman, just like he got me. And then you'll cry in your sleep, and every time you blink, you'll remember the mad doctor." Then he pulled back his eyelid.

And she recoiled. There, carved into the throbbing flesh, were two letters.

J.A.

She turned, and ran.

Finally she stopped, in the centre of a large plaza. Here there were no cells, no prisoners to taunt her, no madness to fear.

Here she could cry.

And she did cry - not to satiate her own fear, but for the broken humans she had seen. For their pain, their anger, their madness.

The gleam of a knife... The sharp cry of a child in pain... That was all it took to make a madman.

As she dried her tears, she slowly got up. No, she had a purpose here, and she would not forget it. But now she understood why Zsasz had said that the asylum could break a man. She would have broken if she had not been an Amazon, with a will of steel.

She would find Batman, and then she would flee... Back to safety.

After many minutes of walking, Diana soon discovered that she had been rather foolish in deciding to roam the asylum without guidance as to its outlay. Deeper and deeper she wandered, occasionally fingering her lasso, occasionally stopping nervously to glance around and try to pinpoint her location or any staff that could possibly direct her. But the asylum was curiously - eerily - empty. She supposed that a break-out would have scared off most of the staff, but still, that was no reason for leaving such potentially-dangerous patients unguarded.

Eventually she stopped. Even she felt fear in this inhuman place.

She sat against the wall. This corridor was empty, thankfully, devoid of any cells.

She stared into nothingness, the only sound in the room the sound of her heavy breathing and her legs shifting uneasily on the concrete floor.

Then she buried her head in her arms and shook, the uncontrollable tremors passing through her body and leaving her shuddering with hopelessness. The soft sounds of her sobs now echoed through the empty corridor.

She had been in the asylum for but an hour, and already it was starting to break her. Madness was one of the few things that she feared, for it could not be beat into submission, not cowed into surrender. Instead, it rampaged on, like Ares on his warhorse, feeding on the weaknesses of men and embracing this who had suffered through loss.

But she had to be strong. She had to be. She was Wonder Woman. She would not be weak.

So I decided to take on a more Blackest Night Wonder Woman - compassionate, but willing to do what she has to do. I don't think the JLU one really fits in here because she's portrayed as, yes, kind, but also arrogant and hot-tempered. Which is really not what I'm looking for here.

Glossary (just in case):

Victor Zsasz - a serial killer who usually kills with a knife and carves a tally mark somewhere on himself for every victim.

Jeremiah Arkham - originally head of Arkham Asylum, deposed and locked up by Alyce Sinner (his deputy) when he was discovered to be Black Mask.