Friends and Scars
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I do not own Arnold Wesker, Scarface, or any of the other Batman characters presented. They belong to DC Comics (Batman, in particular). The other characters are from my imagination. This was written purely for fun.
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Tap
Tap
Roll…
That pattern of noise was the only sound to break the silence that had filled the hideout. His nimble fingers rolled and tapped softly against the wooden tabletop almost unconsciously as he sat deep in thought.
Tap
Tap
Roll…
He was happy to be out of the Arkham uniform and back into his regular clothing. His tuxedo jacket was draped over the back of the chair he was sitting on, leaving him with his vest and button-down white shirt. He was grateful that Rhino had grabbed him a change of clothes.
Tap
Tap
Roll…
Rhino had left shortly after removing the other cuff from his wrist. He said he would be back soon, but that was a few hours ago. Since then, Wesker had made some tea and been sitting at the kitchen table, staring off into nothing and thinking in silence.
Tap
Tap
"Arnold—"
The sound of spilling liquid and shattering glass followed swiftly after the short call from Mr. Friend. Wesker jumped violently and his tapping hand had jerked to where the small cup had flown across the room. He caught his breath and looked to where the broken glass lay. His eyes strayed to the table where half his cup of tea laid across the tabletop. As his heartbeat returned to normal, he shifted his gaze to the dummy in the other room with irritation mildly written on his face.
"Didn't we have a deal?" Mr. Friend began in a slightly irked voice.
Wesker didn't rise from the chair. He simply propped his elbow on the table and leaned his head against his hand. "I don't recall making any agreements with you," he replied innocently.
"You are supposed to talk to me, Arnold," Mr. Friend continued after an angry huff. "Doctor's orders…"
Unsure of how to respond, Wesker chose to remain silent. He continued to stare at the well-dressed dummy with half-bored, half-worried eyes.
"I don't appreciate being ignored, Arnold," Mr. Friend said sternly, as if he was speaking to a child. "Why won't you talk to me?"
"Maybe I just have nothing to say," Wesker finally said after a gentle shrug.
Mr. Friend chuckled softly. "Come come now, Arnold. You have been sitting there for hours, doing what? Just staring at the wall?" When no response came, the dummy continued angrily. "I am not stupid, Arnold! You obviously have something on your mind!"
"I've been thinking…" the Ventriloquist confirmed simply.
At that, Mr. Friend heaved an exasperated sigh. He would have thrown his arms into the air in defeat if he was able to move freely. "It's a wonder that fellow Carface could ever put up with you…" he muttered.
"It's Scarface," Wesker corrected him softly as he began to fiddle with his hands nervously.
"Oh, well excuse me," Mr. Friend replied sharply. "His name doesn't change how difficult it is to have a decent conversation with you! How on Earth did you two remain as partners for so long?!"
"We are capable of getting along," the Ventriloquist shot back as his eyes darted to him, "and we are still partners."
"Then what a partner you are, just leaving him back there in the asylum," the dummy spat coldly.
A mild look of sorrow crept onto the older man's face, his brow furrowing and his mouth tightening into a frown. "W-We are partners…" he repeated in a soft whisper, sounding almost like he was trying to convince both Mr. Friend and himself.
As Wesker turned and looked at the spilt tea with distant eyes, Mr. Friend responded. "You two were not partners; you were his puppet—"
"I am not Mr. Scarface's puppet," Wesker snapped, his eyes returning to the dummy.
"Yes, you were," Mr. Friend rebutted firmly. "Dr. Myers has been telling you this since you were first brought to Arkham Asylum. And until you realize it's the truth, there is absolutely no chance of you ever being able to rid yourself of him."
"I don't want to rid myself of him!" Wesker shouted. "Mr. Scarface m-may be a bad person, b-b-but people can change! He's my—"
"He is your enemy!" Mr. Friend cut him off. "He is the reason you are ill! If you have any desire to recover, you must save yourself from him!"
"He is NOT my enemy!" Arnold Wesker yelled as he jumped to his feet, knocking the chair over to the floor. The man's eyes locked with the dummy's in a furious glare. "I need to save him from Arkham!"
The silence that followed his exclamation was long and tense. Mr. Friend was struck speechless, sitting lifelessly and at a complete loss for words. Wesker stood motionless, just staring past the doorframe at the dummy and silently regaining his composure.
The turning of a doorknob broke the silence. The pair didn't move an inch as Rhino walked through the front door, carrying a briefcase. His thunderous footsteps sounded as he crossed the room toward the hat rack behind the sofa Mr. Friends was seated in.
As he removed his hat, his eyes fell upon his boss. Rhino blinked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. His gaze fell to the dummy, and then back up to the Ventriloquist. He slowly placed his hat on the rack and crept into the kitchen toward his boss. "Mr. Ventriloquist?" he asked hesitantly.
Wesker flinched and looked up at the brute with startled eyes. "Oh! U-Um…" He immediately shrunk back into his timid demeanor. "S-S-Sorry, Rhino…"
Rhino blinked again before taking a look over his shoulder at Mr. Friend. "Everything go alright while I was gone?" he inquired slowly as he gazed back down at the Ventriloquist.
"U-Um…" Wesker stuttered before he removed his glasses with shaky hands. He rubbed his eyes and ran his hand down his face until his palm rested over his mouth. He stared at the wall with distant eyes as he drew a calming breath, in and out. "I-I've just been thinking, is all," he finally answered, putting his glasses back on.
Rhino continued to stare down at his boss, internally concerned for him. 'He's a nervous wreck without Mr. Scarface around…' he thought to himself. '…or maybe it's this dummy who's stressin' him out so much…' There was something about Mr. Friend that he didn't like.
He decided not to push for answers and went to put the briefcase on the table. He paused when he saw the spilt tea, unconsciously raising an eyebrow.
When the Ventriloquist let out another "oh!", Rhino glanced over at him. Wesker forced a nervous little laugh. "S-Sorry about that…" he said quietly. As he moved across the room to fetch some paper towels, he shot Mr. Friend an irritated look, but continued to move forward. "I, uh…" He paused when he saw Rhino staring down at the broken glass on the ground. "…sorry," he mumbled in a whisper.
Rhino's gaze lifted back up to his boss, a small grin forming on his face. "Boy, Mr. Ventriloquist, you think pretty violently," he said with a chuckle.
Wesker looked back up at Rhino, a very subtle look of puzzlement on his face. After a moment had passed, a soft laugh escaped from him. Rhino's grin widened when Wesker tried to hide a small smile, happy his comment had lifted some of the stress from his boss's shoulders.
"Here," the smaller man began after clearing his throat, "let me clean this up."
Rhino put the briefcase down on one of the chairs to help. Within a few minutes, the broken glass was picked up, the tea was wiped away, and they were both sitting at the table.
The massive brute placed the case on the table, leaving it unopened. He stared across the table at Wesker. "So, what've ya been thinkin' about? Did ya come up with anythin' yet?"
The Ventriloquist began to tap a finger against the wooden surface and gazed over at Rhino. "I've been thinking about my past stays in Arkham," he responded, "and the daily routines."
"What about it?"
"It's almost always the same," Wesker explained. "I've just been thinking about a time when we could actually…"
Rhino rested his chin against his knuckles, his arm propped up against the surface. "…break in?" he offered casually.
Wesker nibbled on his bottom lip before he nodded. "Right," he finally confirmed, looking uncomfortable.
The henchman stared at his boss, his brow furrowing slightly. "Y'know," he began, "you don't have to break into Arkham if you really don't want to."
"How else are we going to get Mr. Scarface back if we don't?" Wesker asked skeptically.
Rhino heaved a small sigh. "I guess I can't talk ya outta this, huh?"
"No," Wesker answered shortly.
"Now, just hold on!" came a call from the next room, making both Wesker and Rhino look up and distaste fill their expressions in unison. Wesker turned and looked at Mr. Friend.
"This preposterous idea isn't that monster's?!" the dummy questioned loudly.
"If by 'monster' you mean 'Rhino,' then yes, it isn't," Wesker replied. "This is my idea."
Mr. Friend sat in silence for a brief moment or two. "So…" he began in a cold and extremely irritable tone, "you are capable of thinking for yourself—"
"Hey!" Rhino jumped up from his seat and glared into the next room. "Say somethin' like that again and I'll throw ya into the Gotham River with rocks stuffed into that dumbass suit of yours!" he threatened furiously.
Wesker stared wide-eyed at the therapeutic dummy, slapped into a stunned silence. He was vaguely aware that Rhino and Mr. Friend were arguing, much like Rhino was vaguely aware that he was bickering with a wooden puppet. The initial shock slowly melted and his eyes narrowed on Mr. Friend in a glare.
"Well," Wesker finally began in a calm, but severely irked tone, "your name certainly is misleading…"
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Mr. Friend responded, equally calm, though his words were dripping with sarcasm.
"I bet you are," Wesker replied as he rose to his feet. "And yes, I am capable of making my own decisions." He started moving forward toward the puppet with slow strides. He could feel Rhino's eyes on him, but he continued. "And no, I did not make the decision to save my boss. I didn't even make the decision to save my partner. No…" he paused briefly as he stopped in front of Mr. Friend, "I'm going in there to save my friend."
Silence filled the hideout again. All eyes were on the Ventriloquist.
When there was no comeback or other response, Wesker slowly backed off. He took a few backward steps toward Rhino before turning completely to head back to the table.
"Fine," Mr. Friend finally said, making the Ventriloquist pause in mid-step. "Go and save the bloke." The dummy paused before adding smugly "I'd like to meet him…"
Wesker instantly became worried again, his eyes shooting to the dummy. A silence filled the gap between the Ventriloquist and the puppet. Wesker swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced back at Rhino, giving him a worried look that bordered on pitiful.
Rhino noticed that his boss had started trembling again. His shoulders slumped and he looked back to Mr. Friend. 'What does he have planned?' Rhino's concerned eyes returned to Wesker, who had returned to the kitchen table silently. 'Whatever it is…it can't be good…'
A/N: Wow! I just want to thank everyone for reading and reviewing this story! It means so much to me. Thank you so much.