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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Dr. Myers sat alone in his office, going over some paperwork. Things were actually quiet for a change… It had been two days since the latest break-in of Arkham, and things were still in the process of getting back to normal. His eyes rose briefly to his office doorway, where his new door had yet to be installed.

'At least they cleaned up the blood…' he thought to himself.

And there hadn't been any other visits from the Gotham City Police Department or from the masked vigilante; for that, the psychologist was grateful.

After breathing a tired sigh, he returned his attention to his work.

Not a minute had passed before the speaker on his desk suddenly sounded. "Doctor Myers?" came a voice, making him jump and nearly drag his pen across his papers.

"Yes?" the psychologist finally answered, after having regained his composure.

"You have a package downstairs in the lobby."

His eyebrow unconsciously lifted. "A package…?" he repeated to himself. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed on the speaker. "…Has it already been scanned?"

"Yes, sir."

The doctor breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn't have been the first time the asylum had received bombs or something, hand-delivered directly into the lobby. "I'll be right down," he replied as he rose from his chair.

He stepped through his tattered doorway and began walking down the hall toward the staircase. He moved silently, his chin level and his eyes focused on the pathway before him. A package… He wished the guards hadn't been so vague.

In a matter of moments and after punching in a code to get past the doors that led to the patients, he reached the lobby. He saw a few guards standing around a rather large box, looking on edge and ready for anything.

One of the guards turned and saw the psychologist. He held up an envelope and waved it for a moment. "This also came with the package."

Dr. Myers eyed the man nervously and reached into his pockets. He pulled out a pair of latex gloves and put them on. The guard then handed the envelope to the doctor and stepped back.

His eyes scanned the front of the slip of paper. There was no return address, and his name was spelt in big, clumsy letters. He took a breath and slowly opened the piece of postage.

The guards in the lobby watched as the psychologist pulled out a piece of paper. He read the letter in silence. When he looked up from the paper, his eyebrows shot up.

"Hi, Arnie!"

Wesker was being escorted to his designated chair when Harley Quinn suddenly broke the silence that was hanging over the Arkham inmates present for group therapy. He gazed at the blonde with tired eyes, who was staring back at him with a big smile on her face and waving her hand frantically as if he were still across the room. He could feel the eyes of Jervis Tetch and Pamela Isley on him.

"Where've you been for the past two days?" Harley continued once he had sat down and the guards had started leaving the room.

"'Two days wrong…'" Jervis said in a disapproving tone, wagging a finger at the Ventriloquist. He looked past the small man at Poison Ivy. "'I told you butter wouldn't suit the works.'"

The redhead gave the Mad Hatter a dull and irritated look before she glanced back at the small man sitting next to her. "So, Wesker, how'd you manage to escape and get caught all within the same week?"

Wesker's mouth tightened into a frown and his eyes fell to the floor in front of him. He kept his thoughts to himself.

Poison Ivy opened her mouth to make another comment, but was interrupted as the group leader walked into the room. "My sincerest apologies," she said slightly breathlessly as she took her seat at the head of the circle. She quickly jotted down some notes on her clipboard. "Hello, everyone." She briefly looked up from her board at the small man in front of her. "Welcome back, Arnold."

As her eyes returned to her notes, Wesker sunk ever-so-slightly in his chair, his brow furrowing.

The group leader put down her pen and looked back up at the four villains before her. "First things first, would anyone like to share something?"

"Go ahead, Harley," Ivy said, playfully elbowing her blonde friend, "you won't be interrupted by a particularly foul-tempered puppet this time."

Wesker sunk deeper into his chair.

"Do you have something to share with the rest of the group, Miss Isley?" the group leader asked in a deliberate tone.

"Not likely," the redhead replied without hesitation, her eyes shooting to the woman in white for a brief moment. A small smirk quickly formed on her face as she glanced over at the Ventriloquist. "…but I know someone who might."

A moment was spent in silence. The small man turned his head just slightly to look over at Ivy. When he saw that she was staring at him, he returned his eyes to the ground and slowly leaned away from her.

"So, Mr. Wesker," Ivy began in the most overly-friendly tone, "what happened to your hands?"

"I think that's just about enough, Pam," the female doctor said, no longer trying to hide how irritated she was getting.

"What?" Ivy asked in an innocent tone, shrugging and looking back at the doctor for a second. "I think we have a right to know. After all, it's thanks to him that our privileges were taken away twice this week."

Wesker by this point had slumped deeper into his chair and was now fiddling nervously with the bandages around his hands. He kept his silence, trying in no way to protect himself from the redhead's ridicule.

"'Tut, tut, child,'" Jervis scolded while giving Ivy a distasteful eye. "The man's been through enough," he said, finally breaking away from his usual Wonderland quotes. He put a reassuring hand on Wesker's shoulder. "Take it easy, Miss Ivy."

"Yeah, Red, and besides," Harley began slowly, "Arnie didn't exactly plan his own escape."

The Ventriloquist stared over at the blonde patient, his nervousness for the moment replaced with confusion. Why were they protecting him…? His eyes drifted to the group leader when she cleared her throat.

"And I think that what Arnold did when he came back was very brave," the doctor explained calmly. She looked directly at Wesker. "Yes, what you did was illegal, but I think it really shows a lot about you, Arnold. You are capable of great things and you are your own man, capable of making your own decisions." She paused again to fold her hands on her clipboard and smile. "You risked quite a lot for Scarface; that shows a great deal of courage and loyalty."

At the mention of the dummy's name, Wesker's eyes dropped to the floor. He swallowed the lump in his throat and remained silent.

A soft giggle brought his eyes back to Harley Quinn. She tried to stifle her grin behind her hand and glanced over at Ivy. "Loyalty, hmm?" She giggled again before she started in a sing-song voice "Wesker and Scarface, sitting in a…"

That feeling of nervousness was instantly renewed when she started singing the childish rhyme. A movement from behind her briefly caught his eye: the opening of the door. He looked back at Harley—

His eyes shot back to the doorway as he instantly straightened in his chair. His eyes were wide behind the thick lenses that sat on his nose and were locked on the doorway. He nearly stopped breathing; all he could do was stare in shock.

His sudden movements made the blonde stop singing. She raised an eyebrow at him and turned to look behind her at what had caught his attention. The other three in the room did the same.

There in the doorway stood Dr. Myers, an open envelope in one hand and Wesker's beloved dummy in the other: Scarface.

Dr. Myers stayed in the doorway, his body propping open the doors. His eyes remained on the Ventriloquist for a moment before they shifted to the group leader. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but…could I possibly borrow Arnold from you, just for a moment?"

The woman in white glanced over at the small man across from her, whose eyes remained locked on the asylum-dressed puppet in his psychologist's arms. She peered back over at Dr. Myers. "I think that perhaps I should take group somewhere else for a little bit… He looks a bit surprised at the moment."

"A bit?" Ivy repeated sarcastically before Harley gently elbowed her in the side.

As Dr. Myers began to object, the group leader jumped to her feet. "How about a walk around, everyone?" she said in a cheerful voice.

Jervis and Harley were instantly up out of their seats. "Sounds good to me!" Harley said, sounding equally cheerful. Pam was pulled to her feet and the small group was soon past Dr. Myers.

"Good luck," the female doctor whispered to the psychologist as she stepped by.

Dr. Myers watched them all leave with mildly startled eyes. 'Well, no use fighting it now…' He turned his attention to the only man left in the room, his eyes still fixed on the dummy. He allowed the door to swing shut behind him and he crossed the room, his patient's eyes following him the entire time. He pulled the group leader's chair forward to where it was directly across from Wesker. "Hello, Arnold."

Wesker's eyes darted up to his doctor for a fraction of a second before they shot back to Scarface, who was sitting lifelessly across the doctor's lap. He had started trembling again and he took shaky, nervous breaths.

"A letter came in the mail today, Arnold," Dr. Myers continued in a professional and calm demeanor, completely opposite from his patient's behavior. "I thought you might like to read it."

The Ventriloquist's eyes shot back to his psychologist. "…A-A l-l-letter…?" he managed to stammer.

The doctor confirmed it with a firm nod. "Yes," he said before he held the letter out toward his patient. "I'd like you to read it."

Wesker's eyes fell to Scarface for a moment before they came to a rest on the piece of paper in his doctor's hand. He began nibbling on his bottom lip nervously as he slowly took the letter into his own bandaged hands. He took a final look at Dr. Myers before he began to read the clumsy handwriting on the sheet:

Hey Arnold,

I didn't mean for you to get hurt. I should have stepped in when that English guy grabbed my gun, not when Mr. Scarface had his aimed at your head. Anyway, I explained to Mr. Scarface what happened over the past few days. I think he's sorry… I know I am. You two belong together. You said it yourself a couple days ago; you're buddies.

Me and the boys wish you a speedy recovery, and we'll be waiting for you.

Get well soon,

Rhino

Wesker's eyes went back over the letter, making sure he had read correctly. His shaking had stopped as he was reading the note and his nervousness had lifted, being replaced with a confused awe. He stared at the paper for a few lingering moments before he slowly gazed up at his doctor. "When did you get this?"

"Twenty or so minutes ago," Dr. Myers replied softly.

The small man's eyes fell to the puppet. "…H-He turned him in… W-Why on Earth would Rhino do something like that?! Doesn't he know that he'll get mad at him and—?!"

"I don't think Mr. Daily had that in mind when he was sending that letter, Arnold," Dr. Myers explained. "I think his loyalty is to the both of you, but he had you in mind, not the consequences of Scarface."

As the Ventriloquist's eyes returned to his doctor, the psychologist continued in a calm voice. "I don't think you are as alone as you thought you were." He paused to lift the dummy up from his lap. He held Scarface out toward his patient, the puppet's back to him.

Wesker shrunk back against his chair, looking extremely apprehensive. He dropped the letter to the ground as he brought his hands up in front of his chest. He stared at Scarface with worried eyes.

"It's okay, Arnold," Dr. Myers reassured him.

Wesker's eyes never left Scarface, who stared back at him with lifeless glass eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and drew a shaky breath.

"Youse just gonna sit there, starin' at me all day?" Scarface suddenly said without moving, making Wesker jump nearly out of his skin.

The Ventriloquist's eyes fell for a moment to the floor, but slowly returned to the puppet. "…i-is that really all you have to say?" he asked in a near-inaudible voice.

Scarface was silent for a moment or two. After a length of time passed, he breathed a soft sigh. "You know me, Wesker," he began, sounding almost apologetic. "I've got a temper."

Wesker blinked, and then a soft chuckle escaped from him. The puppet had way too much pride to be able to apologize to anyone. He lifted a hand to hide the small smile that had crept onto his face. "You certainly do," he replied softly.

He could almost feel Scarface grinning. "So, why didn't youse just get rid of that pansy Englishman from the start?"

"You know me, Mr. Scarface," Wesker replied after a beat accompanied with a soft shrug.

Dr. Myers rose to his feet and placed the dummy in a sitting position on the chair. "I think I'll just give you guys some time to chat," he said. He turned and started walking toward the door.

"D-Doctor Myers?"

The psychologist glanced behind him back at his patient.

Wesker stole a quick look at his beloved dummy before he looked back over at his doctor. "Thank you," he said, a warm smile on his face.

Dr. Myers could feel himself grinning right along with his patient. This was the first time he had ever seen Arnold Wesker with a real smile on his face. "You are more than welcome, Arnold," he responded. He turned to continue leaving. "I'll see the both of you tomorrow for therapy."

As he walked off, he heard Scarface speak again. "Who was singin' that song when I came in?"

"That was Miss Harley," Wesker answered.

"'Wesker and Scarface'," the dummy repeated in a thoughtful tone as the sound of the opening door reached them.

Dr. Myers stepped through the doorway after he heard Scarface say "That's just how it should be."

THE END

Wee! It's done. I hope everyone enjoyed this ongoing project of mine. I want to thank everyone for all the wonderful reviews, and thank you for taking the time to read it. Thanks so much!