It was hell getting through Gotham, not just because of all of the abnormal police activity. I was still trying to wrap my head around everything I had figured out and learned from Jon. He was a complete selfish jerk for doing what he did. Normally I would've been flattered by such a thing as he claimed he did it for me, but I knew it was just a way for him to manipulate me. It wasn't going to work this time, I was going to make sure of it.
What if he was manipulating me already? Saying Penguin had something to do with this could've been a trick. He knew the history I had with him, everyone did. Every Rouge had to start somewhere, and the lucky few could manage to do so on their own, though allies and creating a strong front was also needed. I prefered to look at it that way as I didn't need help with anything. Ok, I might need help with the things I couldn't do by myself, but I certainly didn't need anyone to teach me anything.
Needless, Penguin had helped me out a bit in the beginning, but then true to myself, I didn't want to be just second best. That resulted in a lot of unpleasant things I really didn't wish to think about.
Jumping a chain link fence, I absentmindedly starting humming Smooth Criminal before wincing. Even after eighteen years, it was too soon.
There's a sign in the window
That he struck you a crescendo, Annie
He came into your apartment
Left the bloodstains on the carpet
Then you ran into the bedroom
You were struck down
It was your doom
Annie, are you ok?
So, Annie, are you ok?
Are you ok, Annie?
You've been hit by—
You've been struck by
a smooth criminal
It had always been an joke between us that I would become a criminal and steal her away along with her heart, but obviously that didn't happen. Well, part of it did, but not the most important one.
"Edward?"
I jumped and turned towards the voice. Query and Echo.
"Yes?" I said, pulling myself together.
"What do you plan to do?" Query asked.
"We heard enough to get the jist of things," Echo added, "but don't worry, we won't tell anyone."
"I can't believe I'm saying this," I muttered. "Fetch Jon and bring him back to the warehouse." I was just too nice for my own good. Perhaps Jon was right, maybe I was too dependent. No, it was just me being a good friend.
"Anything else?" Query asked, "we can look into the League and what they want with Ridley."
"Can you even get in there?" I asked, doubtfully. It wasn't that I doubted their ability, they were some of the best henchwomen I have had, I just hoped it wouldn't be too much. If the League got a whiff of me investigating them it would get ugly very quickly and in the most painful way possible.
"We'll be careful," Query said, "you don't know about half of our methods I bet."
"Why is everyone saying that I don't know?" I complained, rubbing my arm.
"Do you know?" Echo asked.
"Well, no," I frowned.
"That doesn't mean you don't know other, more important things," Query said. "It's impossible to know everything, but you can learn what you can. Honestly Edward, you need to stop doubting yourself."
"I could be smarter," I said. "I mean, if I'd been smart enough to notice—"
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Echo said sternly, "you were busy doing other, equally important things. You can't be everywhere and know everything at the same time."
"Speaking of that," Query said, "we shouldn't be holding you up like this." She gave Echo a pointed look.
"Oh yes!" Echo said. "We just wanted to drop in real quick and ask about what we should do. Now we know! We bring Jon back to the warehouse, and then go investigate the League and try not to die."
"Staying alive would be preferable," I said dryly. "Oh, and make sure to set Jon's nose as painfully as possible, it's broken."
"Roger that!"
I watched Query and Echo walk away and shook my head. It was scary how Echo could act so much like Harley.
"I don't know why we should set his nose," I heard Echo say, "I mean, he's a jerk. Plus men usually look better with a crooked nose. It gives them character."
'He's a character, that's for sure,' I thought.
It took me a while to make it to the Iceberg Lounge though I knew exactly where it was. I was stalling, but if I stalled any longer it might be too late for Ridley. This was getting more tedious than it should've been, but I loved a good challenge. I'd also changed since the last time I'd been there. For better or worse, we'd have to see.
Anticipation and nervousness coiled in my stomach as I approached the club, and I was surprised to see that it was closed. Penguin rarely had it closed, unless he wasn't around or if some big 'private event' was going on. It truly looked like it was closed though, no music could be heard, and the door was locked. No issue, there was a back entrance for private investors who didn't wish to be seen. That door was open practically 24/7. Penguin played favorites, and only his best investors knew of it.
Walking into the alley on the left of the building, I scanned the filthy brick for the disguised door. There; on my right. Looked like somethings didn't change.
Pushing against the door, it opened silently and I slipped in, closing it quietly behind me. The dimly lit hallway ran the back of the club, and offered a few doorways that led to various rooms. Passing a few of them, and turning right once more, I came upon the reception desk that Penguin merely kept for a sense of normalcy, like anything that went on behind the scenes of the club was normal.
I was surprised at who was behind the desk as it wasn't Lark, who usually had the unpleasant job of doing so.
"You." I narrowed my eyes. The dimwitted guy that had been 'friends' with Ridley. Of course, it made sense, but why would Penguin have any interest on keeping tabs on Ridley? Unless he'd been allied with Ra's for longer than I had initially thought, which was possible.
"Nice to see you," Max said with a smirk, "Riddler, isn't it?"
"At least the old bird taught you who we are," I said, "could say less about the other people Penguin has employed.
"I like to keep on top of things," Max said shuffling some papers, "and that 'old bird' also told me quite a bit about you, mostly complaints."
"I couldn't care less. Maxwell Knight, am I correct?"
"The one and only," Max said smugly. "Though I suppose since we both know Ridley, you can call me Max. Only Oswald and his associates call me Maxwell."
"So it's Oswald now?" I raised an eyebrow.
"A privilege that I gladly acknowledge," Max said. "Seems like you lost it."
"Another fact about my name," Max said. Like I cared. "Knight is actually my mother's maiden name."
"Why would I care?"
"Why not?" Max asked, crossing his arms. "Would you rather know my actual last name? I could tell you, but you already know it."
"How do you even know it in the first place?" I demanded.
"I would tell you that my mother told me," Max said, "but she didn't. Died of cancer when I was little, and it wasn't like my old man was going to tell me, or even take me in. He already had a new family to take care of, but you know about that as well; don't you?"
"What I know doesn't concern the likes of you, simpleton."
"Oh, you think you're so high and mighty using such 'creative' insults," Max mocked. "Let's face it, you're just a irresponsible failure who can't do anything and is ashamed of their past."
"Who told you that?" I asked, trying to hide my shock and hurt.
"Oswald, obviously," Max said, rolling his eyes. "Who do you think? I thought you were smart."
"Where is he?" I asked, not wanted to deal with this... imbecile.
"Main room," Max said, waving hand, "but don't— Hey!"
I pushed past Max as he tried to block my path.
"You can't—"
"I really don't care!" I stormed towards the large double doors that led to the main part of the club. Slamming them open, I stalked in.
"Oswald!"
THE END?
