Author's note:
Erik-is-my-angel1234 : I'm really trying to update the story every week, but... well, there's always "something" in my way.
Bat-teen 28 : I'm glad to have you on board again, Bat-teen :)
nadillaandlaprasthefireandice : I think Oswald could be a pretty nice guy if we're on his good side. If we're not, well, then we're in trouble.
Masquerade man1234 : Well, you won't have to wait very long :)
Jenicide24 : It's good to have you back, Jenicide :D Also, I wouldn't call it "tension". It's more of a teasing. Anyway, I'm glad you like what I wrote so far.
"What exactly was 'The Mansion'?", I asked Waylon.
"It was Oswald's family home. I've spent some time over there, while I was still working with him. I even had my own room and furniture and stuff. It was one of the places that I could call home and there ain't many of those.", he answered with sadness, staring into a painting hanging on the wall in front of us. We were sitting in a big, luxury armchair - specifically designed for Waylon's size.
"Buildings can be rebuilt. It's the people we're living with that matter.", I said.
"Had no idea that I'm living with a philosopher.", he said and chuckled.
"Years of studies weren't wasted, it seems."
Waylon suddenly stopped chuckling and looked away, his mood unclear.
"What is it?", I asked.
"Nothin'."
"It looks like something."
"Do we really have to talk about everything?"
"Yeah. We kind of do."
"Can't you just let go of this psychologist thing?", he asked with annoyance.
"I'm not asking as Doctor Walker. I'm asking as your girlfriend."
Girlfriend. She never called herself that before. Girlfriend. It sounded so strange.
"Okay... I... I've never finished the high school. I was sentenced when I was sixteen. Then I've spent next couple of years in prison and school just wasn't for my anymore. Not that it was for me in the first place. The thing is... you're after college or university or whatever and I'm... well, I'm a thug. The muscle for hire. I know it'll sound stupid, but I just feel... dumb... around you. Sure, for many years people called me a dumb animal, but I didn't give a damn. But now I see that you're so smart and educated and what-not, and it's not just for show, and I just... I don't know."
"Studies don't make anyone smarter, Waylon. They were what I needed to be a psychologist and that's it. And as much as I hate to admit... criminal activities do require intelligence. Not only brute force. So never, ever think about yourself as a mindless animal.", I said and kissed his cheek. "Cause you're not."
"That's enough candy-talk for today. We gotta go or Ozzie will think that I actually ate you.", Waylon said and stood up from his armchair. "And no, that wasn't sexual reference."
Alice pretended to sigh with disappointment. Little I knew, she really was disappointed.
"Man, that lady Croc brought with him is so freakin' hot.", one of Oswald's henchmen said.
"You sound like you haven't seen a woman in years, dude.", the other one answered.
"You said that cuz you haven't seen her.", the first one responded with a grin. "Man, she's just wasting her time with that walking purse. I could just... what? What is it?", he asked his buddy, who suddenly got incredibly pale.
The thug turned back and noticed my belt. He was staring at it for a second before looking up to see my face with 'I'm-about-to-rip-your-fucking-throat' expression on it.
"… shit."
I grabbed him with one hand, pulled him close to my face and breathed out on him, letting him know how the rotting flesh smells like.
"Heard you from a mile away... at first... I wanted to kill you.", I said. "But I've changed my mind."
He would probably sigh with relief if I wasn't choking him.
"Oswald told ya all to respect me and my... friend. I think he'll kick you out for that one, buddy. That's bad, being alone in a big city like this."
He looked at me with shock and terror.
"But I decided to be a nice guy. I can help you out.", I said and slightly loosened my grip.
"R-really?", he asked with disbelief.
"Yeah. I can take you to those nice fellas from the Joker's gang and give them your qualifications. Being one of the most important members of the Penguin's gang and stuff. I think they would be eager to meet you."
I once met a man named Warren White. He was a scum, stealing people's live savings. Disgusting even by my standards. After some mess with Mr. Freeze he got terrible freeze burns, his skin was as white as a snow.
Yet this thug suddenly became even whiter.
"No, please! Anything but that! These guys are fucked up, seriously fucked up!", the man cried with pure terror, struggling, trying to get away from my grasp.
"Do you have anything to say?", I asked.
"I-I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry! I didn't mean to..."
"Sure you didn't.", I said and knocked him out with a punch in the face, then dropped him on the ground. The other thug watched everything with astonishment, his mouth wide open.
"Have you got anything smart to say?
The thug lively shook his head, while saying "No, Croc."
I looked at him with annoyance.
"No, Mr. Croc."
"Clever fellow.", I said. "Clean up your buddy and go tell your boss that Croc is on his way."
"Are you sure those sewers lead to the GCPD?", I asked.
"Sewers are one thing I know plenty about.", Waylon answered.
The tunnel ended with a hole in the wall, giving us a good view on the gap between the sewer tunnel and the building next to it; the chasm was no doubt the result of the earthquake that Gotham still hadn't fully recovered from.
"What now?"
Waylon crouched. "Hold me by the neck. I'm gonna jump on the building on the other side and climb on top of it."
"Are you mad?! This wall is way too far."
"Relax. I'll make it."
I looked at the gap. Below was only water, waking up some bad memories.
I reluctantly embraced Waylon's neck and he stood up. I closed my eyes as he started to run and suddenly, I felt the breeze.
I opened my eyes and saw us, mid-air. I don't know how, but I managed not to scream.
Waylon reached the wall and used his claws to hold onto it.
"You're okay?", he asked.
"I'm not okay! I'm hanging God-knows-how high and there's water below us!"
"So?"
"It's the middle of the winter. Swimming would be a BAD idea."
"Hold tight."
Waylon made his way to the top of the building with agility many hikers would be jealous of. He crouched and I was on the ground again, improbably happy from this fact.
"Let's not do that ever again.", I said.
"This is it. The GCPD police-station.", Waylon said and I looked at the station, which was in a not so good condition now.
"How exactly are we gonna get there?", I asked, looking at several gaps and buildings before us.
"The same way we got over here.", Waylon said and gently patted my back.
I groaned at the very thought of going through several more leaps like that.
Then I heard a silent 'click' and Waylon grunted in pain.
He quickly grabbed me, covering me with his body, and then jumped off on the lower building, hiding behind the higher one.
"What's going on?!", I asked. "Are you hurt?"
Then I noticed the bullet, stuck in Waylon's left hand.
"I'll be fine.", he said.
"Let me help you with this.", I said and grabbed his hand. "I'll remove it on three. One... two..."
Before I could say 'three', another bullet hit the wall nearby Waylon's head.
"What? More shooters?"
"No.", he said. "The bullet ricocheted off that... thing.", Waylon said and looked at the weird construction, mostly made from wire mesh, with a small, green, question-mark shaped statue in it.
"Eddie...", I whispered.
"What?", Waylon asked.
"Forget it, we've got to do something about that sniper.", I said.
"I need you to hide.", Waylon said.
"There's no way..."
"I'm freaking bulletproof and you want to argue?"
As much as I wanted to say something, I just nodded.
I was making my way to the station, trying to cover Alice with my body as much as I could. Bullet after bullet him me in the back, but I mostly shrugged them off; the scales on my back were thicker than a kevlar vest. We passed Oswald's henchmen, lying on the ground, and I noticed that they didn't have any bullet wounds. Somebody must've knocked them out.
I finally made it to the station and immediately took cover behind the wall. I sighed with relief while Alice looked at me with worry.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?", she asked.
"I'll be fine. Crocodile skin, remember?"
"What... what happened to those goons outside?"
"I'm not sure. Although I have an idea of who might have done that. If I'm right, then we should return to Oswald as soon as possible."
"Return? In case you didn't notice, there's a sniper outside. And it looks like he's after me."
"What? He shot me... but it wouldn't really make any sense to shoot me in the hand, right? He was aiming at you.", I said.
"Exactly."
"Gimme five minutes and that son of a bitch will be dead."
"Really? And how exactly do you plan to take him out?", she asked.
"By smashing his head?", Waylon asked sarcastically.
"He could put a bullet in your eye before you know it. I assume your eyes aren't bulletproof?"
"I could cover them."
"As much as watching you run blindly through the rooftops would be interesting, I've got a better idea. Do you see where sniper is?", I asked and pointed at the laser dot on the nearby wall.
Waylon slowly raised his head to locate the sniper, who was three buildings away.
"Yeah. What do you wanna do?", he asked.
"Here's my plan."
I slowly made my way back to the previous rooftop, trying to cover my face as if there was a light blinding me. The sniper shot me in the hand, which hurt like hell. I was still going forward, every two steps or so bought with another bullet to the hand. I've already started to bleed and I was hoping that Alice would hurry.
Then this bastard tried another tactic. He shot me in the leg and I kneeled, cursing and roaring, which likely woke up every single motherfucker in Arkham City.
Still covering my eyes with one hand, I started to slowly walk to the sniper's position, limping, knowing that I will never reach it.
I needed to shimmy along the ledge of two more buildings and then climb to the top of the third one. I managed to set my foot on the windowsill and rest for a moment, but I new I had to hurry. I continued my way and I finally reached the third building, now climbing to the rooftop. I tried to be as quiet as possible. As I made my way to the top, I saw him. He was dressed in the regular prisoners' orange suit, although with some modifications. His sleeves were ripped off, showing a black sweater and he was wearing a balaclava. He held a sniper rifle and was shooting constantly, and suddenly I heard Waylon's roars.
I climbed over the handrail, standing several feets behind him. I could use my magnum... or I could knock him out without killing.
Isn't morality so great?
The sarcastic voice in my head once again proved to be the master of timing.
I tried to stay quiet, coming closer to him, still holding the magnum, with intention of using it as a blunt weapon.
I was getting closer, and closer...
When I was about to strike him in the head with the gun, he suddenly turned back and hit me with his rifle, which made me drop my gun. I fell on the ground and he pointed the weapon at me.
"Sorry, lady, but Deadshot never misses.", he said in arrogant tone.
Even under the balaclava, I could notice the big grin, way too big for someone who does what he does for money.
He pulled the trigger and missed completely when I kicked him in the crotch using my high-heel. As he screamed in pain, I kicked him in the stomach and quickly stood up, landing an uppercut on his jaw, sending his gun over the fence and into the water. He almost fell, but I managed to grab him. He was heavy and I barely could hold him.
"Nicely done. But this is not over.", he said and took something from his belt. He threw a grenade under my feet and I let him go in panic.
The grenade let out smoke, making me cough. I managed to get out of it, but the sniper was already gone.
As soon as I saw them fighting, I stopped pretending to be injured and ran, trying to make my way to them, but everything happened so fast. That fucking shooter suddenly fell from the building after throwing a smoke bomb and landed in the water. When I finally reached the roof, I saw Alice, kneeling and coughing.
"Are you okay?", I asked, looking for blood or any wounds. After closer examination, I noticed a bruise on her left scalp.
"I'm fine, but my head aches as hell.", she said and stood up.
I finally sighed with relief, seeing how she was alright.
Waylon crouched and suddenly hugged me, almost choking me.
"Never, ever again come up with a plan like this.", he said.
"But he's gone, right? Everything's fine.", I answered, honestly surprised to see how worried he was.
He then pressed his forehead against mine and looked me in the eyes as I embraced his neck.
"You did well, you know? You can take care of yourself. Good.", he said and then, just for a brief moment, I could see sadness in his gaze. Because of his mouth deformation, I was able to read his mood only from his eyes. The change was brief, but it was there. He then assumed the relaxed expression again and said "We should get back to Oswald. Tell him about the station and the sniper."
"Right.", I said. Then I noticed his hands. They were covered in blood and few bullets were still stuck in them. "Dear God... your hands."
"It's nothing.", he said.
"You said you'd be fine."
"And I am fine."
"No, you're not!", I said, much louder than I intended. "There should be a first aid kit in the station."
"There's no need to..."
The angry look he got from me was enough to make him stop talking and nod in agreement.
It wasn't hard to get inside the station. The hard part was finding anything useful.
"Trash, trash, trash...", I said, searching for any meds and finding only empty pills packages.
"I'll go and look on the back of the place. Maybe those thugs stored some meth in there...", Waylon said. I looked at him, still remembering the bag of cocaine I found in his belongings, back in the Asylum.
"Hey, I was just kiddin', okay? Don't look at me this way. That's cold.", Waylon said and went to another room to look for medicine. At least I hoped it would be medicine.
I continued to look for the first aid kits, without any result.
"Me? Cold? I'm not the coldest person in this shithole, that's to be sure.", I said to myself. Then I heard a rhytmical, mechanical noise and turned back.
"I would've probably used different words, but I agree."
Mister Freeze just entered the room.