Hi guys! I'm back with another chapter. I know it's been a bit of a break, and honestly I've been working really hard to get this done, considering things that have happened and all that. But thank you so much if you're still reading and have waited (patiently) for this chapter. I am absolutely going to finish this book, even if I struggle to post chapters at times.

So follow, favourite, review, it is amazing motivation to actually hear that people are enjoying this story, and all reviews make me smile.

XOXOXO -Impossible Dreamer

Cat arrived home with a throat that felt like it was filled with sand; coarse and raw. She had cried herself dry, and was currently riding the 'numbness' that came with a sudden grief.

She couldn't quite understand why Iris' death at hit her so hard, and so painfully. She barely knew the woman, most of the things she knew she had heard from Yvonne's stories, and yet…

…and yet it felt very real, and absolutely agonising.

It took Cat the better part of her 10-minute walk home to make sense of all that had happened. In short, she summarised it in a single, heavy sentence.

Some people touch us deeper than others.

She tried to push everything to the back of her mind, and deal with the present threats.

That, she could do. One more step forwards, one more heaving breath.

A few restless thoughts tugged on her mind, like the nagging feeling that all of this was playing to someone's sick game. Someone had caused these dreadful things to happen, and currently the most pressing event was Yvonne's unexpected disappearance with Crane's formula.

Cat mulled this over as numbly as possible, she restricted her thoughts to careful and unemotional analyses:

-Yvonne could not have travelled very far in the short time

-The formula would most likely kill her

-Caterina could not find her alone.

The final thought was more real and more painful to admit than the rest, she was so use to facing her troubles and relying on herself, and honestly her own pride was an obstacle she had to overcome eventually.

She would get help, but at what cost would it come?

Crane didn't even look up from his bench when Caterina entered. He was wearing a stained white lab coat, and an expression of absolute concentration as he loomed over a number of unlabelled beakers and samples.

"No word," He muttered between his teeth. "Cherry and Douglass are on fifty-third."

Cat took a deep, much needed breath, and fixed her gaze assuredly on Crane's figure.

"Johnathan," She addressed his first name and Crane, sensing the weight to her tone, turned to her in both surprise and concern. Cat faltered slightly under his blue, piercing gaze, but with a steady sigh she managed to regain some composure. "I need to ask you something."

"Go." He replied instantly.

"Do you trust me?"

He frowned in confusion but nevertheless gave a curt, subtle nod.

"Of course."

Cat chewed her bottom lip and wrung her hands nervously. "Good." She answered in a shaky voice. "Because you know we can't do this alone. I need you to trust me now, I need you to believe me when I tell you I'm strong enough."

It took Crane a few moments before understanding dawned and his frown vanished.

"Oh," He replied very quietly, and pressed his hands so forcefully against the bench that they paled. "I see."

Crane looked away, his dark hair falling into his eyes, before he reached for a nearby pair of heavy-duty scissors.

"I trust you." He answered assuredly, and Cat received the scissors with a slight tremor in her wrist.

She turned the plastic handles over in her hands, wishing there was another solution to the problem, another answer that didn't involve such a dangerous act.

Cat was about to let the lion out of its cage.

Caterina turned the handle and gave the door a single, solid push. It opened slowly, teasingly slowly, like it anticipated her dread.

She pulled on the string, and the lone bulb flickered into life, flooding the small room in a wave of harsh yellows and browns.

Cat stood, waiting for the condescending tone, the dripping toxicity, the razor-sharp laughter. However, it was quiet, and only a low, soft voice eventually broke the silence.

"Hello Caterina."

Joker was looking up at her with a solemn, respectful expression, like a child who had acted wrongly and awaited punishment. Was he…actually respecting her? Or in the very least, being civil?

It must be some sort of trick.

"Hello." She mocked his tone and folded her arms over her chest. "Are we equal now? One criminal to another?"

Joker made no comment, he merely gazed up at her as she cut the distance between them and knelt before the chair. Cat was now eye level with him, but she still kept a safe 3 feet distance.

"I'm not your little freakshow anymore, I've broken out."

Joker did smile, but it was soft and sad, like the melody of an old music box.

"I never had you contained," He said quietly. "You've always been stronger than me, you've always had the power to tear me apart. I just convinced you that there were steel bars around your world, and you believed me."

Cat swallowed at the painful lump in her throat, and she couldn't discern whether anger or despair had put it there.

"You're a liar." Cat managed in an unsteady voice. "You're a lying son of a bitch. What makes you think I'll believe you now?"

Joker shrugged and tilted his head to push back a number of green hairs that had fallen over his eye. "Because for the first time, I don't particularly want you to."

Cat struggled with this concept, and decided instead to get to her feet and brandish the pair of scissors.

"You're going to help me." Cat stated plainly, far too plainly. Joker merely raised his eyebrows in interest, an expression of 'of course I am, lead the way'.

She cut through the plastic zip ties easily. But she pulled him to his feet with great difficulty; he was now taller than her, his arms were free, he could attack.

Cat took a subconscious step backwards, retreating into the safety of the open doorway. She felt the cool plaster of the wall against her back, through her deep red shirt, and found a sense of grounding and comfort.

She was in control.

"It wasn't you." Cat said stiffly, not meeting Joker's gaze. "It wasn't you who attacked Iris."

He shook his head swiftly, but respectfully remained in the centre of the room.

"No, I would never do anything to really hurt you."

Cat pictured the car crash, and the twisted remains of their vehicle; smoking and shattered. It could have killed them, it was meant to kill them.

"You're right," She answered, almost absentmindedly, as a new thought was mulled over. "Yvonne couldn't have been the only target, we all would've died."

Napier had said something about extracting revenge from Yvonne, revenge for what she did to a patient at Arkham. But if he really did want to keep on good terms with Cat, even offer alliance, why would he organize such a lethal method?

"I think Napier wanted us dead." Cat said, her words dripping with disdain. It wasn't a particularly wild concept, after all, Napier was monumentally fucked up in the head. The idea that he wanted Cat dead, or the League destroyed, was easily believed.

Cat scrunched up her face and massaged the bridge of her nose; why couldn't friend and foe make themselves more recognisable, like wearing colour-coordinated armbands.

"Will you help me?" She glanced up with an exasperated sigh, and found rather frighteningly that Joker had made his way across the room. He nodded, and rolled his shoulders back to relieve the tension of lax muscles.

"Anything."

They broke out into the early morning together, the air melting through their clothing and brushing against their skin like paint on a canvas. Cat couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline surge through her veins as she stared out at Gotham, Joker by her side and a pursuit underway.

'Just like old times' she wanted to say, bitterly. But she was different now; she was stronger, fitter, surer. Cat had been forced to build herself up from nothing, and it had taken three years.

"Where to?" Joker glanced across at her, and Cat pondered the question thoroughly.

"I think-" She began, slowly. "I think Yvonne would go somewhere with medical supplies. She's testing a formula, she'd need a sample collector, blood extraction equipment. Somewhere she could get into easily, somewhere that wouldn't arouse suspicion."

As Cat had thought aloud, she had been slowly putting together a sold, sure answer.

"The Asylum." She said excitedly, her eyes wide with comprehension. "There's heaps of empty medical facilities, and the guards there aren't particularly bright."

Joker smiled and rolled his wrists lavishly, gesturing to the street.

"After you."

Cat played with the handgun, trying not to notice how comfortable it felt in her grasp.

Joker had stopped by at a local gas station, at which the owner, upon recognising them, had supplied them both graciously with two Berettas' and 9mm silencers.

"You don't mind?" Joker tucked the gun in his internal coat pocket and regarded Cat, almost compassionately. "I know you've gone all righteous, tryna get into heaven now."

The words were sarcastic, but the message was sincere.

Cat laughed lightly, an action that was fairly foreign on her.

"I'm only righteous against killing innocents. No one in that building is innocent."

They were both standing outside the Asylum, scouting the entrance and taking notes of the security levels.

"Get down." Cat warned suddenly, pulling Joker to the ground by his forearm. They ducked behind a car's front wheel as a truck of medical supplies lazily rolled passed. Joker watched the gate open intently, and without breaking eye contact, he popped a gummi bear in his mouth.

Cat turned to him with wide eyes.

"Seriously?"

He raised his eyebrows incredulously, chowing down on another handful of brightly coloured gummies.

"What?"

Cat rolled her eyes and turned back to the Asylum just as the twisted metal gates clicked shut. She inclined her head slightly to the left, indicating the entrance.

"Okay, I have a plan." Cat said distractedly, counting the security guards she could see.

"Is it a good one?"

Cat hesitated.

"I have a plan." She said finally, and motioned at the security guards. "These guards, let's just say they've got a healthy appetite."

Joker snatched the brightly coloured bag of candies close to his chest, his eyes widening in concern.

"Not my gummies." He glared at her accusingly. Cat sighed in exasperation.

"No one wants your gummies, I used 'appetite' as a euphemism. Hand me your coat."

Joker seemed relieved to keep his sweets, if a little confused by the odd request. Nevertheless, he shrugged of his black coat and offered it to Cat.

"Right," she glanced down at her outfit; a wine-coloured shirt, a dark belt, and black running leggings. "Turn around for a minute."

He raised his eyebrows incredulously, also glancing down at her outfit as if to discern some meaning from her requests.

When she was sure his back was well and truly turned, Cat pulled her shirt over her head and wriggled her way out of her leggings. She shivered slightly as the chilly air met her bare skin and wrapped Joker's coat around her shoulders. It fell just below her knee, and after she tied the belt around her waist, it fitted her body fairly well.

"Alright, you can turn around now."

Joker did so, and he gazed in interest at her bare collarbone and knees.

"Right," He said slowly. "And this would be?"

"Um." Cat suddenly felt rather silly and child-like, she self-consciously wrapped her arms around her midsection. "I'm a…I'm a service. Just say it's a birthday thing, it should get me past the gates at least. When I'm inside, I'll dispatch of the gate security and clear the way for you."

She paused and glanced away in embarrassment. Three years ago, she would have done this no problem, in fact she often did; she usually played the distraction while Joker and his men snuck around back and killed everyone off. Now, somehow, it was different. Cat was shyer about herself, like she'd gained a certain amount of self-respect, and now such actions felt vulgar.

It was her own body, and no one else's. It was not something to be used, and admired. It let her run, it let her think and feel, it brought pain, it heaved, it moved, muscles and bones rippling beneath her skin. It didn't make her more desirable, it didn't distract, it didn't measure her value or her worth. It was her.

"I'll go in," Cat decided in a more assured voice. "I'll go in, and then I'll shoot everyone."

That final thought made her feel much better.

The gate operator watched Cat approach in vague interest, he seemed to be new, that would explain why he didn't recognise her.

'Hey, I know you. You're that serial killer who committed suicide a couple months ago! Woah, I should shoot you right now, I definitely shouldn't let you walk up to me.'

"Hi sweetie." Cat waved at the guard through his little chain-fence box. "I got a call that it's someone's birthday today, can I get an escort inside?"

From the other side of the gate, Cat could see the smallest smile of bemusement fall on the young guard's face.

"Sure, honey, can I see some identification?"

His eyes roamed her figure shamelessly.

She sighed, but forced a sickly-sweet smile over her face and brought her hands down to her waist. Before she could undo the belt loops, there was an oddly supressed pop behind her right ear, almost like an inverse click. The guard's eyes rolled backwards, and his whole body followed, leaving nothing but a large blood stain on the glass of his control-box.

Cat turned in surprise, and found that Joker had his gun aimed steadily at the guard, a look of determination over his face.

"Bastard." He growled in a low voice.

Cat remained frozen in place, she still had her hands awkwardly at her waist and her lips barely parted.

"Uh." Her cheeks flushed deeply, and she cleared her throat. "That…that works too. You know, I can still fight, I don't need protecting."

Joker stiffened and brought the gun down quickly, as if hoping to pretend he hadn't used it.

"Yeah…did you see that…that look in his eyes?" He gestured wildly to the direction of his own eyes. "Wild, rabid."

Cat supressed a smile, she tried not to find Joker's jealously flattering, unfortunately, she failed.

"Here." He roughly threw a handful of her clothing at her. "Get dressed, you look ridiculous."

Cat blushed, this time in anger, and took her clothes close to her chest in annoyance.

"Fine." She replied curtly. "Keep watch for a second."

Cat climbed through the front opening in the controller-box and fiddled with a series of important looking buttons and switches. Eventually, the gate groaned open with a buzz of electricity, and Cat pulled her clothes on while Joker scouted the entrance.

"All clear."

Cat met Joker at the Asylum's front doors, they faced each other with shoulder's pressed against the glass, guns held aloft against their chest.

"Ready?" Cat asked with a thin smile. He winked in reply.

They turned in unison and kicked open the glass doors, immediately opening fire wherever they saw movement. Cat shot an elderly janitor through the eye, a fat blonde receptionist through the chest, a number of burly, mousey-haired security guards through their shiny badges and blue uniforms.

The guards poured into the white lobby like rats, scurrying around, wildly shooting, shouting. When one fell after a spurt of blood, a second guard always replaced it with barely a moment spared.

Cat fell into a comfortable rhythm. One shot over the shoulder, two to the right, kick behind, three in front. She was halfway between another kick, when she felt her shirt pocket vibrate slightly.

Cat brought the guard crashing to the floor, and dropped her foot carelessly over his throat.

"Hang on." She glanced down at the blue-faced man. "I gotta take this."

Cat pressed the phone to her ears and sent Joker an apologetic expression.

"Don't worry." He muttered, smearing some blood off his chin and shooting another guard through the jaw.

"Hello?" Cat stuck a finger in her ear in an attempt to block out the noise, what she did hear was a small, raspy voice, barely above a whisper.

"Caterina?"

It was Crane, whispering in a quavering voice.

"Caterina? You can hear me?"

"Yeah," Cat replied, and she glanced down in vague interest as the guard beneath her gurgled into unconsciousness. "Yeah, I can hear you. What is it?"

"Yvonne," Crane's whisper floated in and out of audible range. "She's…She's here, with me, at the apartment."

Cat stiffened in interest, and she backed away from the conflict to better hear him.

"She broke down the front door, I'd never heard anything…it was like a groaning, a wooden sound, a rustling, and then the whole thing came away in a shower of plaster. I didn't see anything, I hid in the storage room, I'm still here."

Cat tried to quieten her breathing, she didn't want to miss a single aspect of Crane's recount.

"She's in the kitchen. I…I think she's destroying my formulas. But, God, I don't know. She must have some sort of weapon, the whole apartment keeps shuddering and groaning, bits of wall and ceiling keep giving way."

"Stay there." Cat urged, wringing her hands nervously. "Stay there, we're coming to you."

"No," Crane continued, his voice not rising in volume. "I've got a large dose of fear toxin with me, I can hold her. She's not a danger."

Cat immediately shouted in opposition.

"No, don't, stay there, stay hidden!"

But it was no use, Crane had hung up, and Cat was left with a feeling of heavy dread in her gut.

"Oh, shit." Cat looked up, Joker was watching her with a quizzical frown, he had littered the floor with corpses and various body parts, but otherwise, the lobby remained empty.

"What is it?" He noticed her worried expression and closed the distance between them. "Have we found her?"

Cat opened her mouth to reply, but her throat was too numb to formulate any form of an intelligible response.

She merely nodded, swallowing a lump of fear.

"I see." Joker mirrored her small nod, and wiped a clump of…something reddish from his coat. He gestured for her to lead on, and she did so despite her quivering legs and loud thoughts.

"We…we need Cherry and Douglass." Cat managed after a moment. "I won't make the mistake of underestimating the situation."

She bit her lips nervously, and recognised the iron aftertaste of blood, but Cat couldn't tell whether it was hers or someone else's.

The apartment was barely recognisable.

Masses of brick and plaster littered the sidewalk, and huge, hollow chunks had been ripped from the building's exterior. White particles hung, suspended in the air, dusting everything in white, like icing sugar. It looked like the remains of a half-eaten gingerbread house.

Cat stared without seeing, trying to make sense of any aspect of it.

Not only was the building a crumbling mess of what it once was, but it had strange ropes and pipes running through the front doors and bursting out into the street. At least, Cat thought they were pipes, until she approached them and recognised a very different texture indeed.

"Vines?"

Douglass knelt down at the apartment entrance and ran a hand along one of the strange objects. It was as thick as a drain pipe, and curled in and out of the plaster in a single, fluid motion. But there was no mistaking the green, leafy appearance.

"What the fuck is going on?" Cherry asked in a low voice. She glanced around at the group, but neither Douglass, Cat, nor Joker had any reasonable explanations.

A sudden groaning sound made the entire company jump. Cat watched as the vine gave a great shudder, as if shaking itself awake, and then proceeded to slither further into the bricks like a terrible serpent.

"Holy shit." Cat breathed, watching a number of vines dotted with emerald leaves, push themselves into the apartments, tearing new holes through the plaster.

Joker took a long stride forward, so that he was beside Cat's elbow, and he too regarded the situation.

"Is it…" He faltered, running a shaky hand through his fringe. "Is it alive?"

He was right, the entire structure seemed to be groaning and shuddering, heaving and beating, like a living organism.

"It must be Yvonne."

Three pairs of eyes turned on Cat in disbelief. Douglass tried his best to muster a patient smile as if Cat's suggestion had not been complete and utter horse crap.

"How?" Cherry demanded curtly, crossing her arms over her chest. "How the fuck could this be Yvonne?"

"I…I don't know," Cat started. "But Crane called, said she was inside. Now, I'm not saying it makes a lick of sense, I'm just working through what we know."

"If this is her," Douglass gazed up the tall building, his face oddly pale. "If this is Yvonne, how the hell are we meant to fight her?"

Cat could do nothing but shrug, pathetically.

"Let's hit her really hard in the head. We'll see where it goes from there."

Cat didn't need to unlock the front doors, they merely shattered at her touch. She swung open the remaining metal frame and beckoned for the nervous company to follow her inside. They did so, weapons raised, breaths held, each trying to make as little noise as possible.

Inside the apartment lobby, more twisting vines fractured the walls and ceiling, hanging long, low tendrils of leaves and stems. Cat stepped over another thick vine that was lying dormant over the cracked flooring, and she walked head first into a web of spidery ferns.

"Eugh." Cat squirmed out of the leaves with a shudder; she didn't like how everything around her seemed to be alive and watching them.

"…Cat."

Cat turned to Joker's low-voiced acknowledgement, and found that he was staring at the reception desk with an uneasy expression.

The wooden desk had been split into two splintered halves, and down the centre ran another deep green vine, thicker than any they had seen. It curved and twisted its way from the front doors, down the lobby, and through the wall directly behind the reception. Cat cautiously approached it, and as she did so, she noticed that something dark and glistening was sprouting through a section of the vine.

No, not sprouting; impaled.

"Oh, god." Douglass murmured under his breath, he joined Cat and Joker near the desk and Cat thought she noticed a green hue around his face.

The receptionist had been run completely through by the vine, torn shreds of skin and clothing hung from him like wet paper. The carpet around the dead man was soaked through with blood, and even the vine seemed to be absorbing the thick liquid like fertilizer, as it appeared greener in colour than the rest.

"Jesus Christ," Cat took a hesitant step forwards, and placed a shaking hand on the receptionist's frayed shoulders. "What could do something like this? How…how do vines act this way?"

Joker managed a single-shouldered shrug, but his jaw was clenched in an unusual way. He was afraid, he was terrified, he felt unmatched.

"Okay," Cat decided after a moment. "We…w-we need to find Crane, he was hiding, maybe he still is. Let's go up to our place, quietly."

She added the final word nervously, and silently wished above anything that there was another way to go about this.

Cherry glanced over at Douglass, her eyes glistening only for a moment.

"We'll go first." She answered quietly.

Cat knew that she and Douglass wanted a moment alone, a moment to collect their thoughts and reassure each other.

'A moment to say goodbye', A darker part of Cat's mind whispered. 'Because we're all going to die'.

She nodded, and Cherry and Douglass started up the stairs cautiously, hands linked, whispering encouragement and empty promises to each other, pretending they could keep each other safe.

When she could no longer see Cherry's stout, black-clad form, or Douglass' muscular build and blue sweater, Cat exhaled sharply, and ran a hand through her tangled hair.

"So," She turned to Joker with a bitter smile. "This might just be it."

He inclined his head in agreement.

"I guess so."

Cat kicked the scruff of the carpet, her heart jittering with nerves.

Why was this suddenly awkward?

"I-I…I want to thank you, for cooperating."

He laughed hollowly, running his tongue swiftly over his bottom lip.

"Sweetheart," Joker replied with a disbelieving shake of his head. "Call it what it is, I'm helping you."

She opened her mouth to respond, and yet no argument came out. At this moment, argument seemed petty. These were the people she was going to die besides, she could at least be civil.

"Yeah," Cat laughed lightly. "I guess so."

And she was lost for words again, her gaze held in his dark eyes. Cat fell back again into months of memories.

There was no denying, she had never felt freer than she had by Joker's side. Everything he had been saying had been absolute truths, everything about her being strong, about her cage being imaginary.

Cat decided then and there that she was no longer angry with him, because now, none of it mattered. When the whole world was falling to shit around you, allies became dangerously rare.

Joker was gazing at her, not resorting to his usual witty remark or twisted scowl; he was being patient, he was waiting for something.

Cat shook her head, forcing down some very dangerous thoughts.

She was not about to do a full circle, not with him.

"Ok, let's catch up with the others." Cat brushed some loose blonde hair behind her ear and turned on her heel, she hoped rather than believed that all the awkwardness of the moment had been in her own head. She honestly wasn't sure if she was acting out of fear or courage.

She didn't get very far up the dark stairway, though, as her hand was suddenly caught in a gentle, yet firm hold, and her entire body spun around 180 degrees.

"What the-"Cat spluttered, but she wasn't able to finish her disjointed cry of alarm.

Their hands were entertained, and he had a soft hold on her hip.

"Sorry," Joker murmured, a sweet smile forming over his lips. "I would've hated myself if I didn't try."

Cat had barely registered the situation, before she felt something brush gently across her lips.

It lasted for a second, maybe longer, Cat honestly couldn't say. It was patient, sweet, it was a message, a goodbye. He pulled away with a bittersweet expression, and let his hands fall limply to his sides.

"Lead the way." Joker muttered with a vague gesture towards the stairwell. He had guessed what Cat had been thinking all along, that this was closer to the end than any of them would've liked. It moved her, slightly, that in these final moments Joker decided to show her such genuine affection.

'Well fuck it', Cat thought angrily. 'Here I am trying to be the restraint, angry one of this weird relationship. And he gets to pull shit like that?'

She was practically fuming at this, at how selfless she was trying to be. Without a word, Cat took Joker's hand in a death grip and glared daggers at him, daring him to oppose.

Fine, we'll play it this way.

"Uh, what are you doing?" He asked as they climbed up the stairs, hands interlocked forcefully, he seemed slightly afraid.

"I'm being sweet." Cat spat over her shoulder. "What? You think this isn't sweet?"

His eyes widened with fear but he didn't say anything, he merely cleared his throat loudly and managed a small smile.

"Yeah Cat," Joker replied quietly, just as they stepped off the stairwell into the corridor of Yvonne's apartment. He paused for a moment, and took her hand more securely in his.

"Cat, you're being really sweet."