Even though I knew where this chapter was going, it was still hard to write. You'll understand why when you read it. And as I commented in my note on my other WIP, I have time to write now. I hope to get both stories done by the end of the summer, but we'll see how that goes.
Weather Marmalade- Yeah, I know. I think I'll wait until I've got the story finished, then just do it all at once. My internet access is spotty at the moment, and I want to spend the time I've got getting back up to speed.
manzanita- Mad Stan and the Janitor... now why didn't I think of that? Although I do have a part for the Janitor to play in this chapter...
And I was going to answer more comments, then realised that would be a chapter all its own, so here's the story instead.
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Jason frowned as Selina finished her story. He'd heard similar tales throughout his life, and it never failed to depress him.
Sins of a parent rebound on the child;
The innocent suffer for naught.
'Tis a fact to which you should be long reconciled,
And at least this beldam has been caught.
Shut up, Etrigan. She isn't caught yet.
A matter of time
And of manpower too,
Such tawdry crime
Is not in your purview.
"Etrigan being mouthy?"
"Is he ever not?"
"Point taken. Jason, I know this isn't your thing, but this woman has the most obscene luck, and I'd like to make sure that's all it is. Because if that is all it is, well, luck runs out. But she's deranged enough that she might have drawn the attention of something... else."
"Do you honestly think she has?"
"Honestly? No. But the only other alternative I have is to take her out personally, and that would be a bit hard to explain."
Jason couldn't argue that.
"All right, Selina, I'll do some scrying at least. If she is drawing something's attention, I'll do something about it. If not, we can at least find out where she is and what she's up to. Any health problems I should know about before I cast the spell?"
"Nothing. Not even arthritis."
"All right, then."
The spell was an easy one, and the answer came quickly; Brenda McGinnis was many things, most of which were unpleasant, but she had no connection to the demon worlds that Jason could detect. He could sense that some demons were watching her, but not as a potential convert. No, it was more along the lines of reality tv for them. Disturbing, perhaps, but not something he needed to deal with. He told Selina as much, and she shrugged.
"It was worth a shot. But you have located her?"
"Yes, that was even easier. Unfortunately, she's in a stairwell right now, which doesn't tell me much. Here, take a look for yourself."
Selina looked, and they both watched in horror as events unfolded.
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"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!!!"
Barbara Gordon snapped her phone shut hard enough to make it chirp.
"She got away," Bruce growled.
"Yes. We've got an APB out already, and she is to be considered extremely dangerous. I have to get back, but somebody should tell Terry what's going on."
"Of course. I'd intended to. Mary?"
Mary smiled sheepishly.
"I'm supposed to be meeting Stan in half an hour; I'm sure he'll understand, though. You go ahead, and I'll meet you there. And, yes, I am chickening out of being there for the explanation."
Bruce gave her an exasperated look, but he had to admit that he would rather handle this himself. Mary was in an awkward situation, and it really wouldn't do for her to be gloating about Brenda's downfall in front of Terry. Even if it was deserved. But that wasn't what mattered- what mattered was that this mess was finally being wrapped up, and by the end of the night they should all be able to relax a little.
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Dalrymple sighed as he made his way toward his rooms. It had been a long day and he had to admit that he wasn't as fit as he used to be.
You are getting old, Tobias. No, you are old. Perhaps it is time you retired and moved in with Amadea, as she continually urges. God knows I have been little use to anybody of late, and I do not know that I have the strength to face another Gotham winter spent mostly on the streets. But I also do not know if I could find such inspiration for my poems in such a pastoral setting. I do love visiting there, but my writing always suffers when I do, and without my writing, I would go as mad as many people already believe me to be. But perhaps...
He sighed again.
"How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breathe were life. Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From the eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things: and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge, like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought."
"Well, aren't you just a happy bag of joy today," Marleigh Dantriss quipped. Dalrymple smiled at her.
"I am old, my friend."
"And your point? Remember, you're talking to a woman whose mother is eighty-five and still climbs mountains."
"Your mother is a remarkable woman."
"True. So what's got you glooming around spouting Tennyson?
"I learned today that Nadia froze to death in the park a few nights back, when the temperature dropped so precipitously."
"I'm sorry." Marleigh leaned against the wall, blocking his way. "She was the woman in Brightness Falls, wasn't she? You told her story well."
"And now she is dead because she was so afraid that her husband would find her that she refused to take the shelter that was available. I try to tell their stories so that maybe somehow someone will give a damn, and that just one of them will be all right."
"One of them is. Well, maybe not all right, but he's in a lot better shape than he was when you wrote Out of Shadow. That was the McGinnis kid, right? And he's doing fine, isn't he?"
"They arrested his grandfather today, but his demented harridan of a paternal forebear remains at large."
"Oh."
"And I have a terrible feeling that she has not finished venting her malice, yet I find that nobody else, not even the normally canny Mr. Wayne, seems to share my apprehension. He feels that her arrogance will trip her up in short order, but I fear that she may have realised that her machinations have finally been uncovered and that she now has nothing left to lose."
Marleigh's dark eyes bore into his, then she nodded sharply and turned to go.
"Well, I'll just make a few calls and see what I can come up with. Oh, and Tobias?"
"Yes?"
"Though much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."
She vanished around a corner while Dalrymple stood blinking after her. Finally he gave a soft laugh, shook his head, and walked the last few steps to his rooms. As he shut the door behind him, he realised that he was not alone. Hitting the lights, he was not as surprised as he should have been to see a tall, slim brunette who bore a striking resemblance to a certain Immortal thief, and that she had a gun. Dalrymple drew himself up to his full height and faced her without blinking.
...and not to yield.
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"So, Dana, now that the old hag is as good as caught, feel like partying?"
Dana laughed.
"Maybe when she's actually in jail, Chels. Jumping the gun much?"
"Hey, why not? Even my dad couldn't stand her!"
"To know her is to loathe her," Dana giggled. Max had called with the news less than an hour ago, and Dana was still giddy. She started whistling "Schadenfreude", and after a few seconds, Chelsea cracked up.
"Dana, that's just mean! And you know that all these poor innocent bystanders think we're nuts, don't you?"
"Honey, this is Gotham- that's not even a blip on the radar," a six-foot six transvestite in a white satin ballgown laughed. They grinned at him and kept going. Like he said, this was Gotham, and he was a regular sight outside that club. As they walked, they kept grinning.
"God, Chelsea, I don't believe it! A few weeks ago everything was just awful, and now it's all turned around! It's like the end of a cheesy vid, you know?"
"Uh, Dana?"
Dana had gotten a few steps ahead, but the sudden tremor in her friend's voice had her spinning around. A burly man with a gun had stepped out of an alleyway, and was motioning them in. She thought about running, or fighting, or fainting, but in the end she did as ordered.
"Purses, jewelry, anything you got," he said. "I just want your money, I don't care about anything else."
Dana believed him, but it didn't make her feel better. They tumbled everything they had into their bags, practically throwing them at the man. He caught them both easily with his free hand, then cocked his head at them.
"Sorry, girls, nothing personal."
A shot, and Chelsea slammed back into the wall. Another, and then nothing.
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Zeta waited, concerned. In less than an hour, he was to visit Big Time. He had tried to contact Mr. Wayne, but he could not reach him. This was most unnerving, as Mr. Wayne was as reliable as a human could get. Zeta ran through a number of likely scenarios, factoring in an unsupervised visit or obeying his instructions for each possibility. The scenarios in which he disobeyed ended badly. So did some in which he waited, but at least in those he did not have to face an enraged Bruce Wayne on top of everything else. It was not a situation that any rational entity could face with equanimity.
He heard gunshots, and immediately assessed their most likely point of origin. It took less than five minutes to arrive, but by then he knew the perpetrator would probably be long gone. Still, he had to check.
The alley was dark and narrow, making it difficult find anyone. Zeta was forced to use his heat sensors to locate the object of his search.
"Oh, no."
He patched himself through to 911 as he approached the two fallen girls.
"This is Batman. There's been a mugging in the alley off West 32nd street north of Gregson Ave, between Gotham Savings Bank and Donato's. Two GSWs, both females, both 18 years of age, both critical. No sign of the assailant. I'm doing what I can, but I'm not sure they'll make it."
He suited actions to words, trying to stem the flow of blood coming from both bodies.
"Batman, there should be someone there in five to ten."
"Thank you."
He added a faint tremor to the voice, sensing it would be appropriate. He didn't have emotions as such, not as humans understood them, but something was telling him that this was not right. He knew these two girls; he'd had them in his class when he'd been passing as a teacher at Hamilton Hill High, and had interacted with them briefly during his impersonation of Max. They had seemed nice enough, and he knew that both Max and Terry would be very upset if either died. Unfortunately, he did not think he could prevent it.
"You have to live," he told them as he worked. "I don't know if Terry can handle another shock."
Footsteps approached, and he stiffened. He heard the sirens approaching, but they were still several blocks away. Whoever this was, it wasn't a paramedic.
"Zeta."
The synthoid froze for a millisecond. He certainly knew that voice.
"Agent Bennet."
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Mary approached the coffeehouse worriedly. She hadn't been able to get through to Stan, so she had called Bruce to explain. She'd heard the sigh he thought he'd stifled, but he had agreed that just ditching Stan wouldn't do.
"Hey, hon, what's wrong? I tried to call you earlier, but my phone died."
"Oh, thank God," Mary sighed. "I thought it might be something like that, but, well..."
Stan smiled down at her. He was such a sweet man, and Mary hated to worry him, but he had to know what was happening. She explained hurriedly, and to her surprise saw something dangerous in her partner's face.
"Nothing wrong that a little C4 couldn't cure," he snarled. Mary had to smile.
"Well, that's probably more practical than any of my ideas, even if it isn't as elegant."
"I'll wear a tux."
Mary laughed. His deadpan was absolutely perfect; she could almost believe he meant it.
"And that's why I love you."
Oh, he's blushing- that's so sweet.
"You're going down, Lebowski!"
And that isn't.
She wouldn't have thought there were enough Jokerz left in Gotham to form a gang that big, but they were definitely surrounded.
And this is why I hate Gotham.
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Terry never saw it coming. One minute he was trading cracks with JD, the next minute JD was in a twitching heap on the floor and Brenda McGinnis was pointing the taser at him, her eyes devoid of even the minimal sanity she'd had.
"You filthy little bastard, I should have done this years ago, before you ruined everything."
He tried to move, but he just wasn't in any shape to be dodging delusional psychotics. The taser connected, and all Terry knew was pain. He couldn't even tell if he was screaming or not. Then it stopped.
Terry forced his eyes open to see JD struggling with Brenda, desperately trying to get the taser away from her without getting hit again. He finally succeeded with a shout and hurled it out of the room. Unfortunately, that meant taking his attention off the crazy person. Terry tried to give a shout of his own, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper that JD never heard before Brenda clocked him with a chair.
I'm going to die. After everything I've survived, I'm going to be killed by a grandmother.
Brenda advanced on him again, and again Terry tried to do more than his wrecked body would allow. The last thing he saw was the pillow coming down over his face.
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Bruce grimaced when he saw who was waiting for him. He had to respect Dr. Cox, but the man grated. He was good at what he did, and at heart he was a good man, but it had been a long time since Bruce had met anyone who could give him lessons in being caustic.
"Hey! Old Guy! They catch the Queen of Crazy yet?"
"No. She was out when they arrested her husband, and when she saw what was going on, she bolted."
"Dammit! That's it, no more doughnuts for the cops! You hear me, people? Any cop that comes through these doors gets a stern lesson on fitness, and possibly a diet and exercise program specifically designed for lard-ass morons. I want no more reports of them getting outrun by little old ladies, do I make myself clear?"
"Um, do you mean that literally, or are you just being yourself?" a blonde doctor asked.
"What do you think, Barbie?"
"Um, well, I-"
"And today's lesson is on the rhetorical question. I-"
An alarm went off. Bruce looked at the board, as did everyone else.
It was Terry's room.
Bruce hadn't realised he could still run, and he knew he would regret it later- but he had a sick feeling that he would regret not running even more. Dr. Cox outpaced him easily, and a giant of a man in a janitor's uniform was approaching just as quickly from the opposite direction. Dr. Cox reached the room a few steps ahead of them, paused at the threshold, and dove in with a roar of fury. Bruce and the janitor hit the door together, just in time to see Dr. Dorian in a heap on the floor with blood seeping from his head and Dr. Cox ripping Brenda McGinnis away from Terry's bedside, flinging away the pillow she'd been pressing down at the same time. Brenda screamed and dove for him, but Bruce surged forward. Catching her arm, he spun her around and buried his fist in her face. She was thrown back toward the janitor, who quickly put his hands behind his back. She bounced off his broad chest and collapsed, unconscious. The janitor cocked his head, looking down at her.
"Oops," he said.
"Ah, no. No, no, no.Don't do this, kid."
Bruce's head snapped around, the savage satisfaction of a moment before giving way to fear. Dr. Cox was climbing up onto the bed, ripping open Terry's pajama top. A slew of medical personnel erupted into the room, flowing around him and rushing toward either the bed or their fallen colleague. The voices seem to ebb and flow around him, and he couldn't move, couldn't think... couldn't breathe. His chest felt like it was in a vice. It didn't feel like his previous heart attacks, a small part of his mind realised, but he couldn't think what else it could be. Either way, he couldn't have it here. He couldn't pull the doctors away from Terry.
"Hey, you aren't okay, are you?" The janitor's alarmed face seemed to be at the end of a long tunnel. Bruce wanted to tell him to get him out of there, but he couldn't speak, either. And then he couldn't see him anymore, and he was dimly aware of the man yelling before everything just went away.
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Up next- who dies?
