Thursday 12th of July
6:47pm
"Stop the car Jennifer," Cailan said, now looking straight ahead through the windshield.
"Heh, don't tell me you're chickening out on this deal," the woman's lips went tight, her focus boring into the road in front of her.
"Yeah. Now stop the car." Cailan was getting increasingly worried. They were getting farther and farther from the welcomed bustle of the city and deeper into the heart of the Narrows.
They were already far into the decrepit wastes of Gotham; it would take her hours to walk back to a decent part of town, probably longer to get back to Wayne's manor. If she could get out of the car. The locks were automatic and Jennifer wasn't about to let her out from what she could tell.
"Look kid, you might not believe me, but this meeting is for your own good," Jennifer said, taking the tone she'd used on kids younger than her all her life.
"We both know that's a lie," Cailan managed, almost flippantly. Her hand wandered to her side.
Jennifer sighed; Cailan heard how it shook as she exhaled. "This meeting could be the turning point in your life,"
The way she said that told Cailan everything.
…
Cailan held her breath; Jennifer didn't seem to notice the soft click of the seatbelt. Talking only seemed to put the woman on edge and Cailan didn't want to ruin the only chance she may have. However, this was probably the most stupid thing she'd ever done. Biting down hard on her lip Cailan slipped from under her unclasped seatbelt and lunged for Jennifer, shoving the woman into the car door; Jennifer's hands clenched to the wheel to steady the speeding machinery, suddenly desperate not to yield to Cailan's hands. Except that the girl's hands hadn't gone to the wheel of the car. With a sudden jerk Cailan twisted the keys from the ignition and tore them out, recoiling, though, not soon enough.
The car kicked off and both Jennifer and Cailan slammed forward. Jennifer's face hit the wheel of the car with a vengeance while Cailan's shoulder collided with the dash. While the woman was stunned Cailan fumbled with the keys, terrified she wasn't going to be able to unlock the car before she was fighting with Jennifer over them. The woman before her opened her eyes heavily, blinking at her in stunned disbelief. Seeing her face staring back at her, Cailan fumbled the keys and dropped them to the floor.
Jennifer's hands were reaching for her, her eyes wild, blood dripping down her forehead. Cailan's body was pressed hard against the dashboard, one hand blindly gripping for the keys. There was a sound, much like the sound of a soda can getting crushed—she'd heard it before and couldn't help screaming. They'd only been rear-ended, but the jolt was enough that Jennifer suffered another head-to-steering-wheel-blow. Cailan snatched the keys and frantically pressed the unlock button. Her hand reached behind her and she tumbled out, her back colliding with the hard pavement.
People were gathering around the cars now, two alarms going off and someone was yelling from the other car, demanding what the hell had just happened. Cailan flipped over and attempted to stand but after being rear ended like they'd been her legs were unsteady and she fell back to the ground. Her heart was throbbing in her chest, her head was grating with electricity. Every inch of her body seemed to pulse, her eyes roved as she tried to see everything. She was terrified she wasn't going to get away.
Her palms were cold and clammy against the hot asphalt ground as she pushed herself up again and took off running unsteadily down the street. Someone was yelling at her, people on the sidewalk were staring but she ignored them and kept going, running blindly. She bolted without a thought around corners and through alleys.
She collapsed into the side of a building, gasping for breath and gripping her shoulder. It was getting darker and here she was, back at the beginning of it all. She heard sirens, yells—she bolted again, squishing herself under an uneven wire fence. She felt the skin at the back of her legs tear with her jeans as she came up too soon, wriggling through. She crashed to the ground, skinning her chin. Twisting around she felt her voice—her very breath—suctioned from her lungs and she was twisting back around clawing at the ground trying to get that hand off of her ankle. She kicked hard and felt her shoe pull off as she jolted forward. Scrambling to her feet and shoving her back stupidly against the dumpster in the alley. There was nothing behind the fence she'd just come through.
Cailan felt her heart roaring in her ears, heard it echoing in the cavity of her chest. She thought she was going to be sick—scratch that, she was being sick. She collapsed to her knees and felt gagged, her stomach dry-heaving until she saw the sandwich she'd just consumed make a second appearance, in pieces. Her body shuddered as she spat to clear her mouth. Were those sirens against the background of the Narrows? There were always sirens going off here.
She crawled towards the fence again. Her shoe was lying there, a neon offense in comparison to the grimy, bitter alley with sludge and slime mucking everything from the floor to the sky. Your shoe must have just gotten stuck on the fence. She tried to rationalize, slowly crawling closer to it. Her hand was pale and shaky as she reached for it. Was it even her hand groping and unable to find her shoe? She couldn't seem to focus long enough to make her fingers wrap properly around it. When she finally had it in her hand she threw herself back from the fence and proceeded to attempt to shove it on her foot. She didn't have time to make sure it was on properly; her hands groped hastily for the wall, scrapping her knee as she stuttered to stand. Now she knew eyes were on her, from somewhere. She had to get out of that alley.
"Cailan"
She uttered a cry and jumped a mile out of her skin and whirled herself around. Her head was spinning, hear heart going double time—was it the spin or the rushing of blood that was making her dizzy? She crashed into the dumpster again, hit right alongside her eye. Her face erupted in stars on an inky page and her vision split three ways. Her feet slid from under her and knocked the breath from her lungs as she crashed to the ground. There was a hiss and Cailan flipped, twisting her hand away from whatever had slithered over it and leapt to her feet. Enough of this! She screamed inside her own head and took off for the opening of the alley.
…
Her breath hitched. The glass was cool against her back as she panted. She was over reacting. She was simply scared after the car crash, that was all…there was nothing to it. Well, except for Jennifer kidnapping her, that helped in the freaky department. But aside from the normal junkies and boozers, the 'gangs' and released-convicts, there wasn't anything in the Narrows that posed a threat.
What am I thinking? I'm a walking mark here.
Her legs shook underneath her. This was her chance, right? What she'd been waiting for. She was going to do it. She was going to start walking and never look back.
"Cailan?"
She turned, feeling like she knew the voice, her limbs coiled like springs to carry her in a bolt if she needed to.
"Er…Blain?"
"What are you doing here, and why do you look so…ruffled?" he demanded, looking down on her.
She faltered; of all the people she could see, she couldn't find how to explain his appearance. "…Jennifer…" was all she said.
Something glinted through his eyes. Then he gave a wry smile and sighed, his hand roving up through his hair. "So, she tried it again?"
She blinked at him, her eyes questioning.
"Well…a few years back we had this girl—not quite the upstart you are, but she was good and Jennifer…didn't handle Demitri's intensity towards the girl well. She…chased her off." He explained, his smile twisting into a grimace.
Cailan felt empty for a moment. Anger surged through her, her hands clinching hard at her sides. She stood there seething at him. "Jennifer was unstable this whole time and no one bothered to mention it to me?" she demanded, startling him with her outburst.
"…woah—"
"The woman belongs in a psych ward and she's gallivanting around luring dancers into kidnappings and car crashes and tormenting them with fear because she can't handle that she's not an amazing dancer and that she's getting old!"
Her body was shaking hard now. She was losing it; there was something welling up inside of her—had been welling up for a long time. The meltdown she'd had at school had stemmed it, for a time, but over the past few months it'd slowly crept back in all the side looks she'd gotten, all the nasty remarks she'd been on the receiving end of. The creeping sensation of this feeling had twisted in her slowly as she was judged and as she acted out recklessly against her friends to keep the feeling away. She felt like she was finally boiling over, like something was going to snap.
"That freak nearly killed me today!" she continued, her voice starting to carry, drawing the attention of passersby; Blain started getting nervous at her reaction, at the attention they were getting. "And you're telling me that all you a**holes in that d*** dance troupe knew she was unstable and didn't do anything about it?"
Blain's face suddenly twisted in a quick flash of rage and he lashed out, gripping her shoulders hard and giving her a rough shake. "Cool it kid." He growled.
She struggled and jerked away from him; her shoulders ached where he'd held her fast, throbbing dully.
"Just calm the hell down," he warned, taking a step towards her. "Jennifer's a great woman. She just stresses easily. She seemed to like you."
There was an edge to his voice; Cailan bit her tongue to keep from screaming at him. She wasn't even sure that she was really that riled up about Jennifer—there was just something that was about to burst in her and she wanted to unleash it on the first excuse that came her way. But the tone in his voice cooled the fires licking her nerves raw. She recognized the warning in it and remembered how much bigger he was and how much stronger.
"What was this about her kidnapping you?" he asked, his voice a marriage of skepticism and concern.
"…she told me that there was some high up dance guy I had to meet, he wouldn't take no for an answer. Then she drove me out there and…" she paused, unsure what to tell him. If she'd stayed, there would have been police that she could have asked for help.
He was sure to ask her why she'd run from the crash. And what could she say? That she was planning on running away as it was? She was old enough he couldn't legally stop her…
"C'mon," he slid the coat of his business-casual suit off and slid it carefully over her shoulders. "Let's get off the street kid,"
…
Fatigue overtook her and she let him guide her along, not paying attention to the streets they took or where they were going. Sure, Blaine was a pervert and a womanizer, but he also wasn't that bad of a guy for helping her out.
"So, what happened to Jennifer?" he asked her as they were walking, his hand keeping her constantly at his side, as if she were going to try to run from him.
"…she crashed the car." Cailan finally answered him.
"And you ran?" she couldn't read his voice; was he cynical about it, condemning her—condoning her fear?
"I wasn't thinking. I was scared. Of course I ran, I didn't know what else to do." She bristled, trying to inch a little away from him.
"Relax. I'm just curious as to how you came and got yourself lost out here in the Narrows."
"I wasn't lost." She blurted out the lie before she had a moment to think on telling him this.
"Oh, no?" he didn't miss a beat, sounded almost playful, even. "Hm. Then I guess you knew that you were heading straight into the heart of the Narrows, the only place where the worst criminals, out on probation for god knows what reason, can get a place to stay—if they don't kill each other first—didn't you?"
She ground her teeth together. "What were you doing down here?" she turned the question to him, sounding as innocent as she could.
"I had a meeting scheduled for today." He replied nonchalantly.
"In the Narrows?" something wasn't right.
"Hey kid, don't look at me, I didn't pick the place okay? Usually I wouldn't be caught dead in this rat hole."
"What kind of meeting?" she asked; she thought back to questioning Jennifer, but she couldn't figure out why her mind was taking her back to that situation in this one.
"Oh, I was just set up to meet a prospective dancer," he said almost before she'd finished her question.
The ease with which he relayed this information didn't quench the uneasiness that was now growing with her.
"A dancer?" she asked. "Hm…wouldn't imagine a place like the Narrows would hold talent you'd be interested in," she said tersely, letting him draw whatever conclusions he wanted from that.
Clever girl.
…
They hadn't been walking for very long down the alley. It was dark and Cailan realized that Blain's hand was no longer on her shoulder, that she'd lost him somewhere. She started to turn to look for him, thinking he'd just tripped or stopped to make sure they were in the right place or something.
Something soft covered her nose and mouth from behind and she felt Blain's arm wrap around her upper torso. There was a strong smell—Cailan went slack in his arms. He held her there for a moment then he took the chloroform drenched rag away from her mouth and shifted her weight in his arms.
When his grip around the girl's body had slackened she elbowed him hard in the gut and threw herself forward. She had to blink hard; any smart person with the capability to think could understand that if they were to ever have their face covered with a chloroform rag to just hold their breath and try and wait out the attacker. Not that she'd come up with that on her own; suddenly she was grateful that when she'd heard Dick and Wally talking she hadn't just laughed and pushed the conversation from her mind. She'd have to tell them someday that their dumb joking conversation had saved her life.
Maybe.
Her head was groggy; when she threw herself from Blain's arms she crashed to the ground and jarred her knee on the broken concrete. Her mind swayed, her vision tumbling around; there were three Blains standing up in front of her. She felt like all sorts of ball-bearings were rolling around inside of her, trying to force her body to several directions and positions all at once. She finally managed to roll over onto unsteady feet and take stuttering steps down the alley.
"HEY!" Blaine yelled, charging after her.
At the rate she was moving he'd catch her again; she couldn't send the brain signals down to her feet to get them to move faster, to carry her far away. Her mouth wouldn't work to scream. She had no idea what was going on, but there was something trying to click—the meeting Jennifer had been taking her to, the fact that Blain was there, supposedly meeting with someone….
Are they…doing it together? She remembered thinking before she tripped over some garbage and face planted. Crawling to her hands and knees she felt a hand grip her hair and pull her to her feet.
"That wasn't very nice," Blain growled, his face inches from hers.
She had to blink hard to make her mind work. What do I do…what do I do…
He took a cell from his pocket as he held her fast by the wrist—she thought her hand would fall off.
"Hey. Yeah. No worries. You might have f***ed up but I got her. Where? Right."
He closed the phone and slid it into his pocket; he was rocking before her, sliding back and forth. He was doing it to disorient her, she knew he was.
"Now, you and I are—"
Cailan lashed out and clawed his face; the action was so violent she actually tore her nails as she raked down and across his face. Her hand felt wet and sticky, but she didn't bother to take time to examine it. He'd let go of her wrist when his hands flew to his face and she'd bolted, stumbling along the dark street corridor only knowing she had to get away. There was a smaller crevice half way towards the exit.
Judging by how she had to walk in it sideways and that when she did she could feel the rough bricks against her chest and her back, she knew Blain couldn't follow her even if he'd seen her dart in here. He was still yelling, so she wasn't even sure that he had. It was slow moving, trying to squeeze her way and wriggle down the passage, but there was a light at the end and she was sure that it went to a bystreet or possibly even a main road—if it did she could get the heck out of here.
It wasn't a main street, when she'd gotten there after hours of hard work and suffocated breaths. She knew it hadn't been hours…or, it was unlikely that it'd taken her that long, and that Blain hadn't come after her if it had actually been. All she knew was that she felt entirely cloisterphobic after that stretch and she was gasping for air when she'd finally made it through.
Filling her lungs with the crappy air helped to stem the effects of the chloroform and she was thinking a little better. Then she was running.
…
Cailan couldn't remember how many turns she'd made. Every time she stopped, even for a moment, she heard another siren or voice or footstep and would take off running again. The Narrows had changed so much in the years she'd been gone, heck they'd changed even when she'd been there. Cailan had long ago given up trying to remember where she'd been or what used to be where; now she regretted not keeping a closer eye on her old life. It was dark now, not quite night just yet, but the buildings and compactness of the Narrows meant it seemed like night hours before it was. She felt blind.
Calm down Calie, just. Calm. Down. She forced painful breaths into her chest. Looking around, trying not to jump at any and every sound, all she saw were empty buildings. The bars on the windows were like slit-ed eyes, broken windows like jagged teeth. The buildings were moldy and covered in grime and years of odious scenes, stained with the degradation and sleaze of Gotham's worst. These gaunt buildings crept in on her, twisting themselves around like maze walls, trapping her.
Just think logically…it's just a maze, and all mazes have an entrance and exit.
For each breath she took her heart beat thrice; her chest was really like a drum rolling. She held close to the brick and stone walls and tried to keep her pace even as she walked along the streets. Her nerves were shot to pieces and it didn't help to be eyed by everyone she passed. She looked 'rich' and she knew it. Compared to most of those living in the Narrows, the Wall-mart jeans and Target cardigan she used to own were on line with Chanel and Coach. Now that Bruce ordered 'nice' clothes for her she was a walking mark in the narrows. The stares were almost enough to make her take off running again.
Keep cool. The girl thought; she held no delusions that she could ask anyone on the street for help. But, if she could make it to a supermarket or grocery story, even a pawn shop, she might be able to use a phone.
"Hey baby, lookin' fine," someone said, taking a step towards her as she passed.
Cailan was like a young, spooked horse. The first scent of trouble she bolted, shooting past the guy she couldn't have described if her life depended on it without a second thought. Disgruntled homeless people pushing carts yelped and growled at her as she shoved her way past them, knocking cans and bottles from their hands, rattling their shopping carts.
…
Blain stumbled back down the streets, trying to get to his car. His phone started ringing and he fumbled inside his pocket for it, still trying to stem the flow of blood from his face. He was swearing profoundly at the pain in his face, swearing at Cailan, swearing at the blood. He only just got it out and answered through the blood.
"What?" he heard only laughter on the other end of the line.
Blain spooked and fell out of his car, his eyes wide through the streaks of blood. He faltered to his feet and scrambled around, looking half crazed. "NO!" he screamed out loud, spinning as he tried to look everywhere at once.
Suddenly the laughter from his phone got louder, as if it weren't coming from his phone but all around him. Blain was scared. "NO! I did what you wanted!" he shrieked out, flailing around.
A figure advanced towards him in the growing dusk, his figure creating an inhuman shadow.
Blain paled and collapsed to the decaying concrete floor and tried to drag himself away.
"It wasn't my fault! I swear! It's not my fault!"
But Jack didn't care whether it was his fault or not. Jack's only concern was that whenever the fire department got around to this parking lot the only thing they'd find would be a pile of charred bone marrow and ashes.
…
"Cailan"
Cailan pushed her way through the first door that yielded to her weight. Nearly face-planting on the cold cement for her trouble she scattered to her feet again and started dodging through the thick-aired room. It was dark, like new tar bubbling as it was laid down in the streets.
She threw herself behind one of the large, block support beams of the warehouse to hide. Why she did this she'd be unable to know later—it made no sense to hide in a pitch black building. However at the moment it was the only think that could stop her chest from heaving its way to Timbuktu. She was shivering in the evening, though the night was humid and dense. Her body was riddled with sweaty shakes and clammy gooseflesh. Someone was following her—taunting her.
You're being way beyond paranoid Calie. She shivered and sat down on her haunches. What were they planning then, to kidnap you? For what?
"You're worth more than all of Wayne Corp. now kid," Demitri had said. How much would you be worth if you went missing? She felt her sandwich threatening to make a third appearance and closed her eyes. What would her family do, what would Kaldur tell her to do at that moment?
Relax. Calm down, relax, breathe.
…
She didn't know how long she sat on her haunches like that, trying to settle herself down, breathing in deep but quiet breaths. It was long enough to make her limbs stiff and creak as she stood. Now, analyze it out, like you've seen Dick do with his homework hundreds of times. She told herself. She was in a pitch-black warehouse. It was so dark she couldn't see her hand in front of her face—then close your eyes, get adjusted to the dark. She did this and prayed deep down in her heart that something or someone didn't come and grab her as she sat there.
When she opened them again, it was still dark, though, she could see hazed shapes and outlines of objects. That could be enough to find another way out… She thought as she pushed herself to her shaky and unsteady feet. With tentative steps she made her way back and to the left, where there was a rectangle shaped outline of a dim grey—which stood out as if it were a stark white—against the black.
There was something in there with her. She knew there was. It was watching her, breathing a stench that only thickened the already soupy air that her lungs didn't want to filter though her body. She felt its eyes trace her invisible body. It could smell her—it was lingering on the twinge of her sweat and shampoo, digesting the difference between what her hair smelled like from what the fibers of her clothes smelled like, from the grime and dirt that were on her clothes. Its nose was breaking her down, scent by scent. Its ears were listening to her steps, already having calculated how many steps it would take her to get to the door.
It's a countdown. She thought, trying not to let her heart catch to her throat.
It was waiting for the opportune moment.
…
It could taste the way her pulse was flowing through her veins: her blood was thick with fear. Its eyes traced her, the heat of her terrified body frothing in his sight, telling him exactly where she was. The girl throbbed before him like a radar, telling him exactly where she was, exactly what she was doing.
With every lick of his lips he could feel the way she would taste when he finally had her.
…
He's not going to get it, she remembered thinking just before she trusted her tired legs to carry her the last few yards or so to the door. She was just thinking she could make it, she was going to get through the door.
Until her body collided with the metal of the door, the bar pressing deeply into her gut, bracing her knee with a stab of pain. She was trapped.
A creature behind her, a locked door in front of her. This can't be happening. She thought as she tried to force her body hard against the door, as if more of her weight could possibly spring it for her. Her breath started hitching and she began losing the little calm she had left, frantically jamming the door bar, pushing against it, trying with all her might to get it to budge.
She could feel it behind her now, charging at her, growling more foul breath into the air. Her head was buzzing as she heard the claws on the cement ground clicking with a fierce rapidity towards her back as she continued to struggle with the door. It was ten yards, at least, snarling at her back, foam dripping from its snout.
Cailan's legs went weak as she pounded on the door; if she'd been thinking, running would make more sense but she wasn't thinking. She was desperate. It was about seven yards behind her now, roaring out something.
"Cailan!"
Four yards.
She let out a sob and her legs gave, sinking her to her knees, her fists weakly striking the metal of the door. She was terrified; she'd had a chance, the door, it had to open. One yard.
Kaldur cupped her chin and tilted her head back. "Then do not worry. I will find you again, I swear."
With a little scream she lurched forward in time for the hyena's claws to meet with the door instead of her body. There'd been a sickening thud and for a moment she lay there, watching it not move. His chest was slowly rising and falling, she heard him whimper as he stirred.
It was like a dream. She couldn't get to her feet. Her legs were too weak, the ground was sucking them down, like she was trudging through thick mud. Her shoes slipped against the slick cement, her knees cracked against the ground. It shrugged its weight around, shaking its head furiously as she tried to get to her feet. She couldn't breathe now. Her legs weren't getting enough oxygen and she couldn't stand on her own.
It started growling at her and she heard it stumbling around after her. Finally. She pushed herself to her feet and tried to run. She was so slow. It was going to catch her; she could feel its breath on her neck. She knew who he was; she knew Baal couldn't be far behind him. They'd get her, snatch her and—
She didn't want to think about what they were planning to do to her. Baal was still mad from her getting away from him in the alleyway. But her legs—she stumbled again and felt a swipe at the heels of her shoes. She didn't have it in her to run anymore. Cailan couldn't get her legs to run in time with her mind, she couldn't breathe.
Cailan heard a disgusting snarl and felt spittle on her arms and neck. Squeezing her eyes closed she pushed with her toes and lurched forward, trying with all her might to get going. Her steps were like a baby's tottering wobbles. She wasn't going to make it to the door, it was too far. Her legs were too weak.
She used her strength and darted to the side and twisted around some support beams and boxes in the warehouse. Inching her way along, she squeezed herself into a tiny space and held her breath. Like a child she clamped her hands over her mouth and hunched herself up into a small ball. She heard it sniffing, shuffling around.
Shuddering she recoiled further into her hiding place. "Cailan…" it whispered; she could hear the grin on his voice. It was repulsing.
"Cailan!"
She shivered again. "I can smell you…" she heard it say, frighteningly close to where she was hiding. She needed something to defend herself with, anything to fight back. Could she fight back? The thing was half animal—
The Island of Dr. Moreau flashed into her head. Half beast-half humans roaming around on an island unsure how to live, reverting back to their animal instincts without Dr. Moreau there to show them what to do. Was that what this hyena thing was? Some hybrid that was created in lab? Had it regressed into its beast self once again to eat her and tear her apart piece by piece?
Stop that! You're freaking yourself out again. Focus. Find something to strike with, think this out. You can't outrun its four legs and you can't hide from its sense of smell. Think. Were there any pipes…something sharp like broke glass? Maybe a loose piece of these crates you could at least use as a bludgeoning tool?
…
9:36pm
"Guess she's not coming." Dick said; he didn't understand why he felt so let down. It felt like when he'd just been taken in by Bruce, before he knew about Batman, when Bruce had never been around.
"What did you expect," Artemis shrugged calmly, flipping another page of her book.
"She said she'd come…" Dick protested. Rocking back on two legs of the kitchen chair.
"Didn't she say she was going for good?" Conner asked, leaning against the doorway. "And didn't you say that she'd acted weird when you asked her to come earlier?"
"Dick, she'd probably already decided to leave." Megan said, flipping through a cookbook and looking for other recipes she could make for dinner.
"…she said she'd be here." The front legs of the chair slammed onto the tiles of the kitchen, Dick's voice resolute.
Kaldur sighed and retreated back down the hall. Something hadn't felt…right about Dick's story. But, then again, Cailan had told him she was leaving. After the fluke of her performing the lead at her last ballet, it must have become impossible. He supposed she'd found an opportunity to flee, and had taken it, knowing she might not get another one. After thinking it over he decided he might as well join the fray in the living space.
"Do you suppose…we should report that they know about Cailan?" he bounced off his teammates, stroking Wolf's fur thoughtfully.
"Why, they'd just go after her. Wouldn't it make her running off a mute point?" Wally demanded, looking up with glaring eyes from his science homework.
"She didn't run off!" Dick yelled, his chair hitting the floor, a dish smashing to the ground.
Silence hung over them. Even Artemis had to admit that there was a stark difference now that Cailan was out of their lives. It wasn't how she'd thought it'd be. There was a remarkably noticeable void.
"She—"
"You sit down and shut up!" Conner said, grabbing Wally's shoulder and shoving him back into his seat, startling everyone. "No more. No more fighting over her."
"Conner is right my friends. Do not worry, she has taken care of herself before." Kaldur tried to be reassuring.
"You said yourself that they might know about her Kaldur!" Megan said, snapping the cookbook closed.
"She is good at disappearing, M'gann. We know that much when she vanished earlier this year. She's hidden half of her life in plain sight. How much more invisible will she be when she's hiding in secret?" their leader tried again.
"Something could be happening to her." Dick protested, rather weakly now.
"That was a possibility we addressed when we decided not to wipe her memory out, or rather, the League decided." Artemis said, never looking up from her book.
…
Cailan pushed herself farther back. She couldn't think of anything she could used to defend herself, and there wasn't anything else to do. Actually, she wasn't entirely sure that this crevice would hold it off for long; maybe it was strong enough to move the crates and would just get her then. But that did give her an idea.
She struggled, squeezing her body around so that she was facing one of the crates. The wood planks were far enough apart that she could fit her fingers in. If she took off her shoes, she could climb up the things like the rungs of a ladder and get on top. Maybe, from there she could—
"Cailan! I've found you. Cailan…" she heard a scrittching sound at the opening of her hiding place.
Gritting her teeth Cailan kicked off her shoes and worked her way into a standing/crouching position, trying to fit her fingers into the slots of the crates. It couldn't see her, at least she didn't think; it kept scratching and trying it get its nose into her hiding place. She realized in a panic that she'd have to pull herself up by her fingertips for a while, because from where she was she couldn't move enough to get her feet into the slots. It was going to be rough going; she'd have to climb with her body stretched out. Her legs were what were strong, much stronger than her arms anyway. But then, this was make or break time, wasn't it?
Wriggling around like an insect she started to climb, listening to the hyena-meta human claw at the entrance, not daring to look towards it for fear it'd see her climbing and trap her. It was slow moving because the space was so cramped, but also because she didn't want to make a noise and alert her pursuer.
Her arms were trembling as she pulled her upper torso out of the schism, her nails by this time clawing at anything that could support her weight as she armed her way up. Her legs were hanging over the edge from the knee down by the time she rolled to her back and lay on top of the crate, panting. That thing down there was still calling her name, still clawing at the entrance to where she'd been trapped. It sounded angry and desperate now; she even thought she could hear the saliva dribbling down to the floor as it drooled over the idea of sinking its teeth into her.
Oh…gawd I feel nauseous. She thought with that image, a hand clamping over her mouth as she rolled back over, pulling out her legs. She suffered a badly skinned shin, but was otherwise none the worse for wear as she crawled to her hands and knees.
"Haha, didn't think it'd be this easy to get you on your knees," she heard a revoltingly familiar voice crow to her.
"This…isn't…happening…" she panted out, not sure she had the strength to stand up.
That made him roar with laughter, his cruel voice echoing derisively through the empty building like the stench of decaying bodies. She stood erratically on her feet and sketched her way out of this new situation. The one chance she had of anything would be to try and jump to a farther crate and keep going—like a game of 'don't touch the lava' she determined. Baal seemed distracted enough at this point that it was feasible.
He only laughed harder when she turned and fell to her butt with a horrified gasp. "Nahow, now Jack, don't burn her too badly. Uncle Joker wants her scared, not spoiled. Hear that Cailan? We're gonna play!"
It didn't matter that she screamed until it felt like her lungs were bleeding. Baal just laughed and down here in the Narrows, in the very pit of Gotham's swill and rancor, girls screamed their hearts still every day of the week. No one took any notice to one more shriek in the night.
…
Friday, 13th of July
11:36pm
"Is this thing even on?" screeched out on fluttering sound waves throughout Gotham.
"Is this thing even on?" deafened denizens of Metropolis.
"Is this thing even on?" was stuck on a repeated loop as it flashed over electronic billboards in Coast City.
"Is this thing even on?" squeaked through a haze of tv-snow in Keystone City.
"Is this thing even on?" thundered out, shaking windows and rattling anything loose in Central City.
All across America citizens were stopping and starring, parking cars and rear-ending each other, spilling dinner, knocking over cups and pouring so much coffee that it overflowed from mugs.
Joker cackled on screen to the parts of the electronic-capable world. "Why, so it is. Hello there! ! How do you all like my new system? Pretty snazzy hey?"
"What the—" Dick bolted up from the computer, whipping around to find that the echo he was hearing was because Joker's painted face was plastered across the tv as well as his own monitor.
In the space tower Batman's fists were clenched so tight his joints were popping as he looked at the screen; utter hatred radiated off of him.
"Well this thing works pretty well! Hahahah. Now, somewhere out there is my old friend Bats. Hiya Batman!" the Joker sneered, calling the caped crusader out. "Long time no see. I just wanted to let you know before you go over exerting yourself that there's no point in trying to stop my broadcast!" he laughed again, opening an eye wide and getting up and personal with the camera lens. "You see, I've got so many channels going—well, you need them you know, to broadcast to the civilized world—that you'd never be able to trace the links back to the source!"
He erupted into laughter and grabbed the camera, making it shake horribly as he walked somewhere, lights flickering over him as he moved.
"And eheheeven if you did managed to locate where this was broadcasting from, you're on a three minute delay; you know how slippery I am Batbrain. Three minutes and I'll be back in the wind! So si'down, get some popcorn. I've got a show that I guarantee you're just dying to see…"
…
"Get this broadcast taken down. Now." Batman ordered, his face beyond livid.
"We need it down yesterday people." Barry said, trying to keep his usual self in place so that things might not be as bad as they seemed.
Everyone saw through it. Things were pretty bad.
…
Friday 13th of July
11:47pm
"And now boys and girls, Uncle Joker is going to show you all why being friends with superheroes is bad for your health." Joker laughed maniacally into the camera streaming live footage to the world's database.
The hand-held camcorder wobbled around as the cameraman moved from Joker's hideous face to where the twisted villain had grandiosely gestured like a sickly Vana White. All that the camera showed was a chair in the glare of a solitary overhanging light, surrounded by the dark and by shadowed figures. Joker was still laughing, pacing like an animal around the chair, his yellowed teeth exposed in a horrendous grin, hands behind his back. The billions of viewers around the world thought 'it must be a joke!' 'this is just some publicity stunt for the Justice League'. The people of the world had no idea as they watched from their living rooms that the subject of this grotesquery was very real indeed.
The League itself, and its youthful counterpart, were dumbfounded as to how an insane villain—clever in tricks and treachery to be sure—had managed to hack the entire world. The resources, man power and knowledge to pull something like this off were, seemingly, beyond the capabilities of the Dark Knight's nemesis.
"Here we have a known affiliate of the pompous heroes, and their pathetic little team of sidekicks. Why don't you say hello to those responsible for your being here hm…Cailan?"
The mouths of the members of the Young Justice team dropped. It was some trick of the camera, it was a sick lesson the League members were trying to teach them. Their Cailan was not sitting with her hands tied behind her back in the middle of what was doubtlessly going to become a torture room. Their Cailan was not going to be subjected to untold pains—on their account—in just a few moments. Their Cailan wasn't being tested on her loyalty to them, before their very eyes.
"On tonight's segment, we're going to learn a few things. See, little Ms. Cailan here—the beautiful protégé of Gothem city's very own Bruce Wayne—knows some very personal details about the 'heroes' who plague this world. And my men and I are very talented at gaining that kind of information; young Cailan here is going to tell us who our heroes really are."
As he talked, the Joker paced around Cailan, eventually picking up an iron pipe and dragging it along the floor. He tapped it in his hand and grinned in the insane manner that only suited him. As he talked he leered over Cailan who sat, eyes closed and mouth duct-taped, as calmly as possible.
"But before we can get to the really juicy stuff, we have to make sure we can trust what she says." Joker gave no warning as he let the pipe loose, right into Cailan's stomach.
There was a muffled huff as she doubled over—as far as her bonds allowed; her eyes squeezed shut. People who'd been walking down the streets of Gothem in late night shopping stopped and watched the screens and televisions in windows with wide eyes. Metropolis civilians held baited breath as they sat, clutching each other.
Cackling rang out over the sound waves. "Oops, did I do that?"
…
Kaldur watched as Joker's defiling hands tore the tape from Cailan's mouth. The world watched her gasp for breath.
"Now, is your name Cailan Leal?"
The team—the world—was surprised to hear her gasp out a laugh. "No, I'm the freaking Queen of Sheba."
"…Cailan…no…" Robin begged under his breath; he knew any second a call would be coming in from Batman to—
"Aqualad, under no circumstances are you or the others to go after her; that's an order. Leave it to us." Batman growled, his image temporarily overlaying that of the Joker's broadcast.
The teens only half listened; the grin on Joker's face had grown bigger and the pipe came down to the side of Cailan's face. "Tsk, tsk, tsk." He chortled.
The Joker forced her head up. "Now, Cailan, what is your name?"
"Just tell him!" Robin shouted at the screen despite the impossibilities of her actually hearing him. "This guy doesn't mess around!"
The hand held zoomed in on her face; they watched her jaw jump, her eyes flash in anger and calculations. "Cailan Leal."
They breathed a sigh of relief. "What are we going to do?" Wally asked, his eyes shattered.
"We wait, like Batman said." Robin hardly murmured.
"He's going to kill her!" Superboy shouted, his eyes pained; he was watching some freak beat on a girl he considered family. That was not tolerable.
"…no, he won't, the League will save her…won't they Kaldur?" Megan asked, turning to the sea-boy, like the rest of the team, questioning Cailan's fate, wondering what they could do.
…
Cailan bit her tongue; she wouldn't give them up. Nothing was going to get her to talk. Not even the freak looming over her, needle in his gloved hand, grin on his face. She wouldn't give up the only family she'd ever known.
"Hm. Well now that wasn't so bad but I don't think we're going to have an easy time finding out what we want to know," Joker said, as if he were giving a demonstration to the world; he was enjoying this. "So I'll tell you what I'm gonna do kid. Here we've got my brand-spanking new Product X. I think you're familiar with it,"
He flicked the syringe and squirted out a substance that looked remarkably like mercury, although it was bright red and much thinner. With his eyes Joker ordered that Baal bring in someone from the next room.
The watchers at home cringed and screamed. Jake's body—self-mutilated, mangled, malnourished, decomposing and ill-colored lay before the girl in the chair, her eyes big and shocked, her mouth trying to work properly. Taking the moment of her surprise Joker jabbed the needle into her neck, injecting the serum quickly into her veins. Cailan jumped and pulled violently away, tearing the needle out in the movement.
"Now, now Calie, can I call you Calie? Hahaha, that wasn't necessary. See, there's plenty more where that came from and believe me when I say I'm very giving of my gifts. Baal, why don't you tell us what Product X does,"
In the background Baal stepped forward and kicked the body out of his way. Joker slipped into his crowd of cronies and began threatening them with the iron pipe he had, and generally acting insane, cackling every now and again, making what Baal had to say somehow all the more frightening.
"It'll put your nerves into overdrive. A pin-prick will feel like we've driven a stake into your body." He leaned in close, running his grotesque fingers over her arm as he spoke only to Cailan, though, his words and actions were captured perfectly on camera. "And uncle Joker here gave you a full dose which has by now gone into effect—"
Baal cut himself off as he stabbed a long, thin piece of metal—much like a needle on a grand scale—into Cailan's thigh. The location itself, medically, would have brought about relatively little pain; however, Cailan's reaction was hardly contained as she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut. She silenced herself by biting her lip, but the damage was done.
At that point Joker came up behind Baal and knocked him over the shoulders with the iron pipe, sending him into the crowd. The world listened to the sound of metal on concrete as the pipe bounced and then rolled. Joker's face was indiscernible of emotion as he looked off-screen, finally turning his cold eyes back to the girl. "I thought I told you Baal. I wanted her unspoiled."
…
Kaldur was positively shaking. He knew his anger was completely clouding his judgments and that he wasn't thinking straight. He didn't care. He couldn't watch this. He couldn't watch this and do nothing about it.
"You don't even know where she is!" Robin protested haughtily as Kaldur again told him to leave off.
"You might not be able to get there by water," Megan pointed out
"You can't take out all his guys single-handedly," Conner added stoically.
"We're basically not gonna let you do this alone." Wally shrugged, jumping in front of him.
"The repercussions will doubtless be dire once this is all over. I am taking full responsibility. You know nothing about this, chain of command—"
"You're not the only one who cares about her Kaldur." Robin said angrily.
"We would be disobeying a direct order. I cannot ask you to accompany me." Kaldur said, waving them off and sidestepping Robin, determined to get away from them.
To his surprise he was blocked by Artemis.
"We're a team waterboy. You go, we go." She said, her determination at its peak.
Kaldur sighed, defeated. "Robin, see if you can hack into his feeds without his knowing. Megan, see if they're within a six-mile radius of here, perhaps Joker is hiding in plain sight."
…
"You really are making this harder on yourself than it should be," Joker said, feigning empathy for the girl.
She swallowed hard and tried to keep her breathing under control, feeling already her body starting to bruise and swell from where she'd been hit; her pulse quickened with the thought that it was only going to be worse. Worse if she didn't talk, worse if she tried to keep silent.
"Though, it sure is fun for me!" Joker commenced in laughing as he grabbed up a crowbar, hitting decidedly places that wouldn't cause too much damage too fast.
"Now, Calie, let's start with the hunk from Wayne's party, hm? That macho guy with the sleek arms who couldn't leave off you huh?" Joker's grin was disgustingly insinuating, his eyes gleaming obscenities into her mind as he stared at her making rude gestures and a painfully obvious sweep over her body.
"Go. To. Hell." She said sneering at him to hide the terror of what he'd do when she didn't play along.
Joker's wild grin slowly fell from his painted face. He removed his hands from the arms of the chair she was tied to with decisive movements, standing on his long legs unhurriedly, his countenance demure. He hung over her like a disappointed father in every way and she felt sick to her stomach. She felt like she knew what was coming before he did it, like there was a tell in his actions as to how he would hurt her next.
But the blow from the crowbar seemed…different. It wasn't as strategic as the other hits, not as well placed, not as calculated.
He's doing this because you're being a git and not talking! Her mind screamed at her as she sat there, her mind dulled with the pain of metal to her skull.
What the hell should I be talking about? They're my family dammit! Her mind screamed back—she felt out-of-body, watching from above as two halves of her fought. She could end it right now by dishing out some names. Four names, five, six….seven—those would grow in themselves, by their associations. One name would lead to two, two to three that three could lead to six and from there—
You're not even considering it. Suck it up and stop being such a—
Such a what? Such a human being? Stop being such a normal, human girl afraid for her life?
They'll save you. She reasoned.
Why should they, I left. The other half of her said again.
Her argument stopped. She had left. She'd walked out. She'd turned her back on them. Not the other way around. She'd disappeared, she'd thrown the first punch—so to speak. She'd lied, she'd ignored, she'd pushed away. It was her, not them. It was her fault she was here, for thinking she was strong enough alone, smart enough alone. She'd gotten herself into this mess.
No.
She blinked blood from her eyes. Pain like this had never racked her body. The crowbar hit again and she grunted, sputtering a syrupy mix of blood and saliva. She squeezed her eyes tight. She had to be strong; anything for him—had to be strong for her family now.
This is my fault: all the more reason I need to hold on and not give them up.
Something rough and cold jutted under her chin and forced her head uncomfortably up and back and Joker's watery yellow eyes were boring into her own. She swallowed hard and hardened her gaze, trying to be resolute. She'd never been so terrified.
"Calie," his voice made her shiver. "You're just not being very helpful."
A wicked grin spread across his face and the people across America with families had by now rushed to unplug their tvs and computers, desperate that their kids shouldn't see this; in coffee houses and internet cafes teens and young adults were silent, their eyes fixed to the screen, briefly uniting them all together in a conglomerate of bystanders.
"Jack," the Joker called softly.
…
"Anything!" Kaldur demanded, unable to sit still in the bio-ship and pacing around like a caged tiger.
"Stop that, you're making me anxious!" Wally complained, starting to bounce his leg.
"Nothing yet; there are so many people tuned on and plugged in that I can't get a read on a strong output of data because there are too many. We can't narrow it down this way guys." Robin shook his head, hunching further onto the bio-ship's keyboard system and typing furiously as if his life depended on it.
"I can't hear anything from Cailan with so many people out there, either," Megan said. Her brow was covered in sweat and she had slowed the bio-ship's pace down considerably.
"…this is not working." Aqualad's voice finally husked; he clenched his fists and tried to take a logical, tactical standpoint, as if Cailan had nothing to do with it.
He couldn't think like that.
"We need Roy,"
"What?" Artemis demanded, outraged.
"Kaldur's right," Wally jumped in fast, eager to enlist their old friend's help once again.
"I cannot lead this team when I am so involved…it would be suicidal to think I could. I doubt that any of us," he added quickly, hesitating with a look on Artemis. "has the ability to distance ourselves from this fight. We need Red Arrow,"
"Artemis could," Megan suggested, her voice weak, landing the bio-ship down camouflaged on a rooftop.
"Excuse me!" Artemis blurted, her face going pink. "I can't—"
"We're running out of options. We've got no idea where Red Arrow is or how long it will take to contact him and get him on board," Dick said, his fingers doing double time as he spoke, as if to make up for the breaths he was taking.
"Besides, you're the only one who didn't get emotionally attached," Wally shrugged, stating the obvious in his meaningful but blunt way.
Artemis' argument was cut short by a strangled, bloodcurdling scream.
…
Cailan turned her face as far away as she could and clenched her jaw closed, feeling bile rise up into her throat. Her body was vibrating with tension; her nerves felt like they were one fire, or being poked with miniscule needles. The new ropes across her chest were tight and had already started rubbing her skin raw through her clothes; the hand around her wrist was like an iron claw splintering her bone like a stick broken in a storm.
She knew if she looked back at the bubbles welling up on her skin the pain would sear into her brain and she'd start screaming again. She knew if she watched the blisters forming on her arm that she'd be sick all over herself. Her heart was going to explode.
Her chest ached from the assault of her heart—it was like a bomb going off every half second—and the constriction of the ropes. She couldn't breaths she wanted to scream her tears were acid down her face and she couldn't stop crying and her arm—
Joker was laughing. "Again Jack, isn't this what you wanted?"
Cailan balled her hand into a fist and bit down hard on her lip. Joker had called in Jack and then while they were fixing her up in this new arrangement he'd giving her another injection of Product X; her eyes were fully dilated, her heart was beating too fast and her nerves were on a rampage. They'd untied her hands, Baal with the iron pipe at her throat, straddling her chain and pinning her down, and bound her chest. Then Jack had walked over and grabbed her wrist.
All Cailan knew was that he'd grabbed her hand and the pain had started in her arm. What Jack was doing, though, was slowly burning from the inside—so to speak. By touching her skin he was able to set a small fire between the skin layers—the fire feeding off of the cells and other bodily normalities—and cause blisters to form quickly without the respite of her nerve endings being destroyed which were therefore functioning and sending pain to her brain and back, despite the third and fourth degree burns he inflicted.
…
"Artemis we're out of time!" Robin pounded the keyboard, his voice breaking.
The blond swallowed hard. Everyone was looking at her—she wasn't a leader! Her heart was pounding; this was too much responsibility, too much work too much trouble, what if she didn't do something right? What if the hostage got killed? What if…what if one of her team died?
Someone is sure to die if I don't do this, she thought to herself. But I don't know the first thing about leading anyone!
"Megan, stop trying to find her. You're wearing yourself out trying to do that and fly the bio-ship." Artemis heard herself saying in a voice she hardly recognized as her own.
"Robin, we need you to focus and continue to track the signals. What would make that easier?" she asked, knowing very little about it herself.
"…if I could get everyone in the world to stop using their technology," Dick rolled his eyes and spouted sarcastically.
"Tch, as if," Kidflash said, his voice for once low and angered. "Wait," he bolted upright and was at Robin's side in a blink.
"The only way someone could stream something that big live is if they had a huge set up with a large outpouring of power and a large signal, right!" he demanded, talking a mile a minute.
"Right but like I said with everyone hooked up and tuned in I can't—"
"How big of a power source would you need for that?" KF was on a roll and cut Robin off, to the boy's annoyance.
"Huge." He said through grit teeth. "we're talking like…CNN network-huge."
"Then find places that are putting out that much power," Wally suggested.
Dick froze and stared at him.
"What do you think I've been doing!" the boy wonder roared.
"No, I mean individual places," Wally nudged him over on the computer. "You've been looking for the power itself. Try targeting the buildings capable of producing that much power,"
"Wouldn't that only work if he's working in a facility that already existed for that purpose?" Artemis asked, her brow heavy.
"What do you mean?" Megan asked as she opened her eyes, looking much better than she had before.
"Well, he's obviously put thought into this. He said we'd never find him, so it can't be as simple as hunting down a news building with capabilities of world wide broad cast. He'll have taken a place that's likely secluded and abandoned, one that no one would think about that's out of the way right? Which means he's hooked up the equipment to broadcast and its probably been stolen."
"But there's too many individual components needed to try finding her by tracking the stolen components through the manufactures' individual signals." Dick groaned, speaking computer so that the other's hardly understood him.
"What about shutting down the power to the places we know it can't be?" Wally tried next, screwing up his face as he concentrated on the screen.
…
Artemis left the boys and walked to Kaldur, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder as he brooded through the window of the ship.
"We need to talk," she said, trying to be as stern as possible; it was so awkward to try and give him an order after she'd been listening to his.
He gave a quick nod and turned to her, slightly towering, his eyes flashing with barely-restrained anger.
"Uh…You…you've got to follow m-my instructions on this," she said, rolling her shoulders back and narrowing her eyes, trying not to let the hilarity of this get the better of her. "If I can't trust that you're going to keep all of us in mind and not just Cailan… We'll leave you behind."
She watched his jaw jump and lightening score through his grey eyes, his tattoos starting to glow faintly. "I know."
"But you gave command to me." she stated, more aggressively than she'd intended to. "Which means you're not sure yourself that you can keep our safety at the highest priority."
The Atlantian clenched his fists and swallowed. "I cannot focus my attentions. I do not question my own priorities Artemis. The team—"
"Can't function as well without you," her voice softened. "Whether because we leave you behind, or you leave us behind on the battle field."
The anger and aggression washed out of him like the tides and his shoulders slumped. "Losing her is not an option." He shook his head. "I do not think you quite understand just how much it is not an option Artemis,"
"I need to know you've got our backs," she said, her voice hardening more than before.
"The team has my deepest loyalties," he said, his voice so full of its old candor that she felt more reassured than she trusted herself to be.
…
"So, like say, do whatever weird-typey-thingy you do to take out all the minor broadcasting places, like radio stations and small tv stations," Wally restated, jabbing his finger at the screen. "Then take out all of the places that are only streaming and not broadcasting, like internet cafes and places of high cell/laptop activity like the mall or a school, or even a business. Then slightly bigger news places, like city wide or tri-state places like that."
Slowly but surely the dots on the screen started bleeping into non-existence on the map they were looking at.
"And look mostly at the less populated areas," Wally said then, getting another brain surge. "It isn't likely that Joker would have her in a city where someone might hear her…"
They all heard his voice catch and the subsequent clearing before he continued. "He'd want someplace thoroughly isolated not just abandoned. You're also gonna want to keep the radius pretty close to Gotham."
"Why would he be stupid enough to stay close to Gotham?" Artemis asked, her attention drawn from Kaldur.
"Because, his main issue has always been with Batman—he's so crazy none of the other heroes' enemies will go near him—and if he has stolen all of this equipment that's already drawing a ton of attention to himself. If he tries to transport that the probabilities of his getting caught increase extraordinarily. Not to mention, she's only been missing since sometime yesterday afternoon. That isn't a long time to go very far, especially since the initial broadcast went out little less than an hour ago,"
"Why don't you always act this smart?" Artemis demanded, arching her brow at him.
He grinned, then realized the underhanded insult. "Hey!"
…
Cailan thought she was going to lose it—the smell of burning flesh was coming from her own arm. Her mind went utterly numb. She was going into shock.
"Now now now Cailan," Joker again pulled at her hair and gave her head a brutal shake, slapping her a little to get her eyes to focus on him. "Don't go slipping off, you haven't said a word!"
She couldn't understand why all the people around her found this so hilarious. Jack wasn't laughing. She swallowed hard, gulping down a dry throat and stale, burning air. It singed her nose. It tickled her throat. She was going to vomit.
"Hmph. No need to be rude." He pouted in her face and, a distant look on his face, gave her another shake by her hair. "…"
An angry grimace shot through his smile and he tore his hand away from the back of her head. "Forget the arm Jackie-boy. Maybe she'll get the idea if she loses something more valuable."
His breath was hot and sticky and foul as it tickled over her ear and condensed in her hair. He paused for just a moment, letting the threat of what was to come settle in a heavy mantle over her, just waiting.
"Tie down her arms again," he ordered, taking a step back and watching as Baal tightened the rope around her burned and damaged arm, the blood and puss running freely and dripping in a light orange mess on the floor.
"How much did you end up getting those gams of yours insured for, eh Cailan?"
She managed one good kick in Baal's gut before her legs were successfully tied to the legs of the chair—Joker stopped the boy from striking her because he'd gotten such a laugh out of her gall. Baal got his revenge when he'd cut open her jean-leg up to her waist and made sure to fondle her leg the entire way. She didn't have the capacity to feel humiliation right now, between the fear and the pain. The humiliation would come later.
…
Every time she came close to the relief from the pain by passing out Joker would make Jack hold off. He'd gotten all the way up her calf before he was told to stop. She had kept her face buried in her shoulder and her neck was kinked; funny, how she was worried about her neck when her leg felt as if someone had skinned her down to bare muscle. Her shoulder was soaked with salt tears and she was driving herself crazy trying not to look at the damage to her leg.
But the things she found herself imagining weren't any better.
"Oh! Why, that's right!" Joker positively squealed through his laughter. "Here we are, palling around, having fun, watching Jack and Cailan play, and I'd plum forgot!"
Cailan wanted to bawl her ; the sick freak was so busy enjoying this that he hadn't asked her about the super heroes for ages.
"Well, whaddya say kiddo? Gotta name for us yet?" he leered at her.
"Just, one, name," Baal whispered to her, getting awfully close to her leg with his jagged, dirty nails. "And then it'll be over,"
As if for added effect he gouged down the blisters, drawing a whimper from his victim. Joker hastened to kick him out of the way and whipped the chair around so that his nose was touching Cailan's. "I want a name."
The tears boiled over and ran down her face. "…you're totally insane…" she choked out in a whisper.
Once again his face fell and he drew slowly away from her. "That is not what I wanted to hear."
"I don't know any heroes in Gotham." She managed on shaky breaths.
Joker looked at her and was less than amused. "Now I know you're lying. You can't try to pretend you don't know anything about Batman, that annoying do-gooder? That damnable caped-crusader?"
She responded with a weak, wry grimace. "Thought that was a vigilante."
Joker's responding blow ripped down her spine as well as her jaw. He barked orders for Baal to get away from her and threatened to bash Jack's already scarred head in with the crowbar. He proceeded to drag it along the ground as he paced around her chair.
"Listen Calie, I feel we're on close terms, know what I mean?" he questioned, having forgotten all about the camera or the broadcast. "I've come to trust you quite a bit and I hope that you can trust me too,"
He paused in speaking and was content to just pace for a bit, dragging the crowbar with an ominous sound echoing. He tapped the crowbar against the floor, against his shoe, he hummed a little bit and then continued speaking as if he'd never stopped.
"Now, being on such close terms, begin able to trust you, I'm going to trust you with a secret of mine." He leaned in close to her ear, then shouted. "I am insane!"
She cringed away from his heinous laughter, and tried to shake off the churning in her stomach as he continued. "And really, all I want is a name. Any name of one of your hero friends."
"What makes you think I've got any?" she demanded, her voice on the verge of hysteria.
"Hm…yes Baal, why did you tell me that this girl knew the pint-sized heroes?" Joker grinned to his flunkie.
Before Baal could answer Joker let fly with the crowbar again and Cailan whimpered as it collided with her uninjured leg, hitting just under the knee. "I want that name."
"I don't have it!"
"Hm. Pitty."
…
"Turn it off," Artemis said, her voice dusky.
It took too long for Dick to move; he was numbed by the visual that the bio-ship had pulled up in regards to his connection to the web data base.
"I said turn it off," Artemis growled now, jumping to her feet and jabbing a button on Robin's keypad harder than she needed to.
Megan was crying; it was like the failure simulation all over again. Only, this time things were real. This time the violence was actually happening. This time, instead of incineration, it was beating by crowbar.
"Guys, keep it together. We're going to find her. Stay whelmed Rob."
They were all numbed, it seemed. Artemis couldn't get the sounds of the beating out of her head; it reminded her too much—
No, she had a case to focus on. "How's it coming with a signal triangulation, Robin?"
"Rob?"
"Uh r-right."
"H-How much," Megan whispered, her voice breaking and she swallowed hard.
"What?" Wally asked, looking up from hovering over Rob's shoulder.
"…how much of it can she take?" she whispered.
"You can't think like that." Conner ordered, bristling. "C'mon, Robin we need that location."
…
"What was that? I can't hear you!" Joker shouted, giving another primal swing of the crowbar, catching her in the chest. "Hm, you know, if you've got a broken lung then that could cause a punctured lung. Totally kills the oratory abilities."
"…there's…" Cailan didn't care about the blood spattering down her disgusting blouse, dribbling down her chin "…noname…"
"I'm getting really tired of hearing that kid."
Whack!
Cailan gasped in breaths as her head hung down, her hair a mess around her face. This couldn't go on. She couldn't take much—anymore. She had to say something, had to tell him. Just one name. It didn't even have to mean anything.
What're the chances you can make up a name that doesn't actually belong to someone? Her mind thought slowly, tuning out whatever Joker was saying as he wiped her blood on the jumpsuit of one of his clown-masked goons. Her blood.
Could she willingly give some innocent person to the Joker, so that bodiless name would suffer just as she was suffering now?
Sssssskkkkkrrrrrtttt-crishunk!
She gave a little scream when he dragged the rusted iron along the floor; cried out with it smashed down on her shoulder—broken, or dislocated?
She couldn't take another—
Thwack!
"…okay…" she huffed out with a breath; Joker paused.
"What was that?" he held a hand up to his ear and grinned wildly.
"…Okay…" she enunciated, a little louder, trying to use her breath to mould actual sounds. "Alright."
…...
"I gotta have it on or I can't piggy back the signal," Robin said, his voice heavy.
"Fine, but without volume," Artemis relented, a quick look to Megan.
"…Okay…" Cailan's voice came over the line. "Alright. I got something."
"…no…" Dick's hands fell from his keyboard.
"You're freaking joking…" Artemis growled, hurrying to stare at the screen, as if seeing the scene play out would stop Cailan from what she was going to say next.
…
Nothing was going to stop her, she was on a roll now. Joker's face was pulled and stretched like a Beverly Hills mom on a diet of Botox and his eyes were hungry as he gripped her damaged shoulders and drew his withered white face close to her own.
"What did you say?" the hunger eked out between his yellow teeth with the rot of his breath like termites.
Cailan muttered something, her head hanging on her chest, trying to talk around the bloody spittle. With a snarl Joker gripped her matted hair and wrenched her head back, flattening his nose against her cheek briefly while he demanded her to speak properly and then pulling away, his eyes even more crazed than usual. He was high on the moment.
Cailan drew her lips in and took a deep, shuddering breath. It seemed like, on the other ends of the cables and internet lines, that the world was holding its breath with her in some sort of twisted literary cliché.
Joker's blank white face made the perfect canvas for a spatter of blood. "Go to hell."
…
"Shit." Robin gasped, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Please tell me she didn't," Wally whispered, shouldering his way to look at the monitor.
"Shut up!" Artemis hissed, pushing his face back out of the way and concentrating hard on what was happening.
The concrete room where they all were had gone utterly silent.
…
"!" Baal exploded with laughter, doubling over and rocking on his feet.
His laugh echoed around the room, hallow, empty. Dead.
The echo resounded and intertwined with the explosion of a gun as blood and brain matter and fragments of bone erupted from the other side of Baal's temple.
Joker's face had remained in the position it'd been in when Cailan had spattered his face with a spray of blood. The only changes had been the creases in his forehead, the smile slipping down into a long faced grimace and the drags of the blood drops trailing down in streaks. Apparently, he hadn't thought it was funny. He'd pulled the gun with surprising speed and blew Baal's brains out with unquestionable precision. Cailan was hoping that her heart had stopped from all the drugs he'd been pumping into her.
She had no idea what to expect now. She was in idiot. A total, complete idiot. She was going to die. Just a matter of seconds now, despite the silence that had been growing since the echoes had stopped bouncing off the walls of the underground parking garage. Any second that gun would come at her.
But it was Joker's eyes that came at her, narrowed in anger through their watery yellowness. She felt her blood run cold at the look on his face.
Cailan heard the sound of metal colliding with her head through her skull.
…
She couldn't understand why she wasn't dead yet. There'd been this moment of emptiness where dark had blanketed her and warmed her through her core. And then somewhere in the blackness where she supposed her head must be, Cailan felt a dull, horribly aching and throbbing mass. Red started to etch through her vision, stinging her eyes like sweat in a cut. Then she was aware of a pain in what she guessed would be her shoulders, like they were being stretched as if she was a rubber doll on the brink of tearing.
After a few blinks the world started to sift into view like the falling granules of sand from an hourglass. She heard sounds as if she were listening underwater, long and muddled, all deep tones that she shouldn't understand.
Why? Should be dead…should just talk…my…hands….are loose?
She was aware of her body being nearly doubled over, the binds on her wrists slack, her finger tips were nearly dragging the floor.
"I said get her up!" Joker's voice raged out distinctly.
Her hands were untied. Her heart was thundering again. Could they hear it? Joker was yelling again—someone was moving too slow. Too slow, like her mind working. Unbound hands, untied hands—her fingers drifted over the floor, trying to get to her ankles. Just loose it a little bit, those ropes around her ankles. Just loosen them…
Something putrid and sharp floated into her nose and her body jerked up uncontrollably.
It's now or never! Something in her head clicked; it was like someone else had control of her was guiding her. Joker's last hit had to have knocked a screw or two loose, making her think there was someone in her head telling her what to do. It couldn't be much more than primal instinct. Besides, her head was aching so much already, crashing it into joker's crony's did little more to her.
After that she tumbled forward, skinning her ankles as she disentangled herself from the binds to the legs of the chair. She'd only managed to stumble to her feet before someone grabbed her by her hair. She knew this trick: a solid elbow to the gut and she ducked around behind him, bolting for the shadows.
Joker was roaring in laughter; somewhere at the back of her mind Cailan realized that she was probably only antagonizing him and that there was little chance of her getting out of the building, let alone getting full away. She heard footfalls behind her and crouched herself into the first dark corner she found, pressing her hot and aching body against the cool cement, praying for respite.
Respite didn't come.
"Hehehehahah! You got spunk kid, I'll give you that. Ya got spunk." Joker crept along the shadows, his yellow eyes twisting this way and that inside his deranged face, looking for any glimmer of movement. Someone suggested using Hyena to sniff her out.
Joker rejected the idea, saying something about how it would ruin the fun. Cailan shivered at his voice and her knee knocked over something metal. The resounding clatter struck Joker's ears and he slinked towards the sound with near glee, like a child on his way to the merry-go-round. He threw his body around the support pole where she'd stowed herself, his face grinning maddeningly as it whipped to face her. It dropped comically to a sneer when he found she'd moved on. It brightened, again, in quite the comic fashion, when he realized that she couldn't have gone too far. His motions were caught on camera, showing the connected world just how child-like he was.
While he was trotting off, his quick eyes scanning any possible mode of her momentary escape, Cailan had moved herself into a slot in a pile of junk, stabbing her back on a bit of broken something, skinning her knee on the rugged floor, catching her arm on some hanging do-hicky. There was something that had once been soft under her hand, now rough and caked with age and grime. How long could she hide here?
Not long.
"Oooh, what do we have here?" the madman cackled in glee, snatching her ankle and attempting to pull her out.
Cailan screamed and kicked her foot hard, causing an avalanche of junk to topple down on top of her. Somewhere, dimly through the whole mess she heard him laughing, taunting her through the rubble. Trying not to hyperventilate, Cailan squirmed, bringing something blunt down on her head. She swore but kept going, attempting to dig through the cave of debris she'd buried herself under.
She clawed and punched until she wriggled herself out from under the pile. Her leg and arm were screaming at her and she felt grime and flecks of whatever was in that junk pile that had skin that rusted stuck to the puss and blood that were oozing from her wounds. The darkness was her only friend here. Maybe, if she could just keep them off of her long enough—
"Now Cailan that's not being a good girl, don't run off when I'm talking to you!" Joker wailed out, his voice sing-song-y.
She spent the next fifteen minutes dodging bodies and weaving in and out of the shadows like a ghost. Suddenly she found herself thanking whatever powers-that-be for the death of her parents, subsequent adoption by her aunt and uncle, their blatant neglect and her final voyage into the depths of the Narrows all those years ago. If not for all that, she'd be dead by now. Or, at least back in Joker's claws. Of course, she didn't register that if her parents hadn't died in the first place then none of this would be likely to be happening now; she was only concerned with the fact she'd accumulated enough tact and skills to keep her going.
"Hm. Alright, now I'm bored," Joker complained after he'd just missed her by inches around a junked car bits.
Where the heck am I? she hissed furiously inside her head as she tossed her body around the frame of the old voltzwagon bug.
"Let out the hound," Joker's voice was dull as he spoke; he'd become preoccupied with messing around with the camera, watching himself move his jaw and flare his nose.
Cailan couldn't help but vomit into the darkness. She was in pain and scared to death; one run in with that metahuman freak had been enough for her. Now the Joker was sicking the beast on her. There was little in her stomach to resurface—the remnants of a sandwich she'd had who knows how long ago by this time and the empty stomach acids inside her. The beast's claws skittered across the concrete ground too close for her to stay in her hiding place.
Her little game of cat-and-mouse wasn't going to cut it anymore. She needed something else, something better. If she was going to bide her time till rescue, she had to come up with something, fast.
Something they won't expect…but Joker's insane! How can you con a professional, mental, con? She rested her head against the wall and almost cried. She didn't want to try what she was thinking of trying. Her leg hurt too badly, her head was throbbing and she couldn't see straight. Her body ached and she didn't think she had the strength to keep running.
Don't be such a baby, a sneering voice said inside of her—a voice that came from the mean mouth of a frightened and bluffing kid trying to make her way in the narrows. Toughen up, suck it up and do it.
Cailan let out a very shaky breath and opened her eyes. Here goes nothing—
*I am so, so, so, so, so, so, SO incredibly sorry my lovelies! I can't believe I haven't updated in almost a month! Please forgive me—I simply got so caught up with classes and essays and midterms that I truly didn't give my story a second thought until the latest episode of young justice aired Saturday! Hope this gets posted in due time and please remember to keep the reviews coming! 3 much love
Note: I also pretty much made up anything medical that happens in this part of the story, such as the fire bit with Jack and Calie's arm and am in very little ways trying to be realistic or plausible.
And sorry for the cliff hanger…again. it's just too long to keep going! 31 pages!