"Why am I here?"

The young man next to her threw an uneasy look at his older accomplice. Sophie noticed that he had a stub nose that was covered in freckles and that there was a tinge of red in his unkempt brown hair.

Sophie watched the other man frown.

"Only if it's okay for you to answer that" Sophie offered and felt her heartbeat more violently than ever. She might not have been an expert, but her insight into human nature told her that it was highly unlikely that these two men had come up with the idea to kidnap her. She just prayed that they would not like the idea of hurting her, even if they found that she was overstepping.

"Can't tell you much. But we were told not to harm a hair on your head" The middle-aged man grumbled, and Sophie could well imagine him add a if it's any consolation to the end of his sentence. The other one, still visibly tense, nodded briskly.

In Sophie's understanding, drugging her qualified as harmful, but she swallowed down the bitter remark. It wouldn't have been helpful.

She watched as the older man sit down on of the worn-down chairs and lit himself a cigarette.

"I see. Thank you." Sophie paused briefly and decided to push her luck. "Can you tell me who asked you to bring me here?"

It might have been the cigarette smoke than slowly began to creep towards her, but the air in the room seemed to become heavy with tension.

Sophie cast her gaze downwards to the dirty floor and licked her dry lips, ready to apologize, when the man with the freckled face answered.

"You'd find out anyway, so I don't see any harm in telling you." He cast a glance to his older accomplice, as if asking for approval. His voice still sounded rather high-pitched to her ears. Suddenly, she wondered if he maybe was younger than her.

The other man did not seem too happy but rose to speak. "Penguin's our boss. He'll be here shortly. Until then, no more questions."

Sophie watched him gesture with the hand that held the cigarette, creating swirls in the pale white smoke that slowly rose towards the ceiling. He threw a stern glance towards his younger colleague which prompted him to hurry next to him.

Quite possibly he had wanted to put some distance between the young man and their hostage. Sophie wondered if maybe it was the boy's first job.

While Sophie loathed the smell of cigarettes, it also reminded her of Gina, and she felt a ping of nostalgia. But now was not a good time to be sentimental. She reminded herself to stay sharp and attentive. She had to think.

So, it had been Oswald Cobblepot who had ordered these men to drug her and to bring her to this desolate place. Penguin. Who was no longer in Arkham Asylum, who had killed a child, and who would very soon limp up these stairs.

The only link between her and the former mayor was Victor Zsasz. She remembered vividly how she had called him from Victor's cell phone what must have been months ago. Perhaps, that had not been a wise thing to do. Moreover, she very well remembered Victor telling her that he had changed employers after penguin had gotten arrested.

Was penguin trying to get to Victor Zsasz? That made no sense to her. Although she had no idea how contracts between her favourite assassin and his employers worked, she was rather sure that it must be perfectly understandable that Victor would not just sit and wait unemployed until penguin had finished his sentence.

Sofia Falcone, it dawned to her. Maybe there still were unresolved differences between Cobblepot and her. If so, Cobblepot might either be trying to blackmail Victor into turning against her or he might be vengeful because Victor had chosen to work for someone he despises.

If either of those scenarios were true, things did not look very rosy. In this game, she was a pawn with no agency.

She wondered if she really counted as leverage. Would Victor be blackmailed so easily? Would he even care if she vanished from the surface of his world?

The thought made her heart clench.

But if he did, would he negotiate with Oswald Cobblepot? Thinking about how the former mayor appeared on TV and how their phone call had gone, she could not imagine that he would be easy to talk to. At the same time, she could not imagine Victor sitting down with anyone who attempted to blackmail him to have a decent conversation.

Maybe she had too little faith in him, but she could hardly think of an outcome where things would not escalate into violence.

In the silence that dominated the room, the buzz of the middle-aged man's cell phone felt like a loud intrusion.

"A'right. The boss is here. I'll go fetch him." He muttered and stubbed out the cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. Without another word, he got up and left, leaving Sophie alone with his freckled accomplice.

Another thought finally occurred to her: Oswald Cobblepot was coming here. What if he wanted to talk to her? What if he wanted to film some sort of hostage video with her?

"Is your boss a…," she hesitated, unsure whether there were any good words to express what she wanted to ask, "a reasonable person?"

The freckled boy, no, man, she corrected herself, looked at her dumbfoundedly.

"Oh, you mean, if he's, erm, likely to…", he stuttered.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," she quickly said.

She watched an almost cinematic inner conflict play out on the young man's face.

"Listen, he is not, like cruel-cruel. He's all brainy and intellectual and everything, he won't harm you for fun. But he does not like it when people oppose him, so when he talks to you, make sure to be respectful and don't provoke him"

Translation: He's a hopeless narcissist and if you say anything wrong, he'll snap.

Sophie could not believe that this guy really gave her advice.

"Thanks, you're quite nice for a gangster." She showed him a crooked smile. In fact, I don't think you're cut out for this job.

"Heh." The amusement on his features was short lived. As if remembering his job, his face straightened again. "That is is all I can tell you" – and all I can do for you, she added inwardly – "They'll be here in a minute."

Sophie felt a pit of resignation form in her stomach.

She was no master manipulator.

And even if she had been, a minute would not be enough to convince anyone, regardless of how inexperienced they might be at playing the bad guy, to set her free.

She nodded and turned her head to look out the window. The world outside was pitch-black by now. Far in the distance, she could see faint lights, informing her that the city that never slept would not break with its habit, regardless of whether she was there or not.

She only wished that she could have seen the stars.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Oswald Cobblepot could be heard long before he could be seen.

When he finally appeared in the dark and shabby apartment, he was out of breath – which somehow made him a bit less intimidating. Being out of breath was human, maybe that's what eased her fear a bit.

In addition, he looked so out of place that it was almost comical. Maybe the stress was finally getting to her, but she could not help thinking that between the four of them, he stood out like a sore thumb.

Sophie was sure that she must have looked like something that cat had dragged in and she only now noticed how dishevelled her two kidnappers looked after a day of work.

Cobblepot, in his tailored dark suit, looked like he was on his way to a fundraiser. The unnatural light of the sad light bulb that hung above him enhanced the contrast between his pale face, neck, and fingers and the black fabric of his clothes. He reminded her of a posh vampire.

She watched as he rose a pale hand to wipe away the sweat that had formed on his brow. His green eyes settled on her, and he rose the very same hand to wave towards the two men.

"Wait outside of the apartment and don't disturb us until I call for you."

"Yes, boss," they muttered in unison and hurried out of the room.

He walked closer towards her, and Sophie felt like she was shrinking under his cold and calculating gaze.

Suddenly, a warm smile appeared on his face, which, much to her confusion, seemed to reach his eyes.

"Fear not, young lady. While I understand that the circumstances under which we meet might seem ghastly, let me assure you, that they will be only temporary, and you do not have to worry about being subjected to any harm."

Once again, Sophie decided against pointing out that they obviously had a different understanding of what the word "harm" entailed. Somehow, she believed him though. Right now, he had no intention in harming her.

"I'll take your word for it." She answered. "Can you please tell me why I am here?"

"Certainly. We have…" he paused, and she could see contained fury burn behind his eyes, "a mutual acquaintance. A ruthless man by the name of Victor Zsasz." Sophie noticed that he spat out the name through gritted teeth.

He threw a short glance towards her, as if to seize her reaction, and Sophie noticed that she was looking at him with wide eyes and her mouth hanging slightly open. Maybe it wasn't too bad if he thought that she was an idiot.

Before she could come up with an answer, he continued speaking. Sophie had the impression that he was the type for dramatic monologues.

"Victor Zsasz has wronged me greatly. Not only did he betray my trust, but he also took something away from me that I deeply care about. Tell me, Miss Brent, do you like children?"

What?

"Erm, yes, of course I like children," she said.

It was mostly true. Admittedly, some teenagers intimidated her, and so did the idea of holding a baby, but that did not mean she didn't like children. Moreover, this seemed more like a rhetorical question, not an invitation to overshare.

"Very well. I could tell that you're the type of person whose heart is in the right place. Let me ask you another question, Miss Brent. What is Victor Zsasz to you?"

Uh-oh. Sophie tried to quickly weigh out her options. He knew that Victor had visited her apartment at least once, that much was clear. But Sophie could only guess when he had found out she existed and how much he already knew about the nature of their relationship.

She bit her lip.

"He's a friend." It was technically the truth.

"A friend?" His raised eyebrows suggested that he was not fully convinced.

"Yes. We hang out sometimes," she elaborated, hoping to sound nonchalant.

"Right. And do you know about the nature of his profession?"

Sophie hesitated.

A convincing lie contains an element of truth or something like that, she thought.

"I suspect that he might be involved in some shady business. I think that it might have something to do with drugs, but he does not really talk about work."

I am no one and I know nothing.

Her heart was beating violently in her chest and a part of her was glad that the ropes which tied her so tightly to the chair must have masked the fact that her hands and legs were trembling less obvious.

His green eyes narrowed.

"You said that he stole from you?" She added, hoping to disperse his suspicion.

"Your friend Victor Zsasz is a liar and a thief. I think you should know that you hang out with a hitman who abducted an innocent child," he no longer attempted to mask the anger in his voice and Sophie could no longer hide the fear on her face.

"My protégé," he continued, exasperated, "an innocent boy who placed his trust in me, is now in the hands of that vicious Sofia Falcone. And Victor Zsasz told the GCPD that I had killed him"

The despair in his voice made Sophie wonder if he might actually be telling the truth.

She tried to fit the new information into the puzzle of what she already knew:

Oswald Cobblepot and Sofia Falcone had tried to work together at some point.

There had been some sort of falling out.

Shortly after, there had been a hit of Sofia Falcone and her father and Carmine Falcone had been killed. It seemed common sense that the man who was standing in front of her had a motif for this incident. The only thing preventing his arrest was the lack of evidence.

Not too land ago, however, Oswald Cobblepot had been arrested for murdering a child, an orphan, if she remembered correctly.

But what if he hadn't?

"Victor abducted a child and told the police that you murdered it?" she slowly summarized.

"Exactly." He sounded out of breath, exhausted from his emotional outburst.

"Is the boy safe now?" she carefully asked.

"Yes. Once I got out of Arkham, it was my top priority to find Martin and to ensure his safety." He said proudly.

Martin. She noticed how fondly he said the name.

"A trusted ally found him in a place not so different to this," he added with a frown.

She refrained from pointing out the irony she saw in his last remark.

Sophie's head was spinning. She finally got a glimpse of the things happening behind the curtains, but she could not trust the source.

"Mister Cobblepot, I am very sorry about everything you went through. I am glad to hear that you could rescue the boy. I don't really know anything beyond what's on the news, so I had no idea that you had been set up."

Her gut feeling told her to believe Oswald Cobblepot. While he might have been the most terrible mayor the city had ever seen and most probably committed unspeakable crimes, the way he talked about the boy seemed genuine to her.

In addition, she could not really imagine any way in which lying to her might benefit him. At least, not yet.

"I believe you." She added and was surprised by how confident she felt in that statement.

The infamous penguin's anger seemed to have evaporated. He scrutinized her carefully, as if he was trying to discern whether she was telling the truth.

After a couple of seconds, he seemed satisfied with whatever he had read on her face. She began to feel a shadow of optimism. Oswald Cobblepot did not consider her a threat. If the freckled boy had been correct in his assessment of his employer's character, she did not need to fear for her life.

"Excellent. That really is most excellent. I'm sure that since you have now come to understand my position, you will also understand that Victor Zsasz has to pay the prize for betraying me."

Sophie's heart sank.

"Which brings us back to your initial question, Miss Brent. The reason why you are here."

The former mayor paused to assess her reaction. A dramatic pause. A part of her, much to her displeasure, was impressed.

"As I mentioned before, there is no reason for you to be concerned about your safety. I have been informed by my sources that you are one of the very few people your friend visits rather frequently. And the only, well, ordinary citizen among his contacts."

While she should not have been surprised, she could not help finding it sad. Victor did not have a lot of friends, and everyone but her was likely a criminal.

"Since I happen to believe that your friendship is rather important to him, I have informed him that you, Miss Brent, have been brought into my care, and I am confident that he will show up to your rescue."

There was a triumphant glint in his eyes.

Sophie frowned. So, she was supposed to be the bait.

But if she put herself in Cobblepot's shoes, she could not help wondering if inviting a skilled hitman to join them was a good idea.

"You told him where we are?"

A dark chuckle escaped the pale man's lips. "Not explicitly. However, he has been informed, by several sources, that you are held hostage in this very building. I had my men capture you in broad daylight, after all, and I ensured that they were seen by the right people."

Suddenly, she thought about all the films she saw in which villains revealed their brilliant evil plan in all detail and length to the protagonist. But it didn't quite fit. This was not a film, she wasn't a heroine, and, in her humble opinion, the plan was not brilliant.

Unless Cobblepot has an army waiting outside, this is a terrible trap.

But at the same time, the thought brought her some relief. If Victor bit and waltzed in here, it would be a piece of cake for him to get the two of them out of here unscathed.

She stared at the man in front of her and wondered if it would be too insane to advise him to leave this building.

The confusion on her face seemed to amuse him.

"Oh, forgive me for being all cryptic. I appear to have forgotten to mention a tiny detail. A trusted ally of mine has made sure that as soon as Zsasz opens any of the entrance doors, he will be blown into shreds."

Ah.

Sophie began to feel slightly nauseous as she watched his lips produce a beaming smile.

She had to disagree with the young, freckled man.

Oswald Cobblepot was cruel-cruel.

"Erm, Mister Cobblepot, can I ask you something? Why are you in this building? Is it really safe?"

Aren't you scared that the whole thing will collapse? Or that the explosives won't work and Victor will find you? Isn't that – still – a really bad plan? She did not dare to say it out loud, fearing that he might likely see through her.

"Do not worry, Miss Brent. No harm will come to either of us. Rest assured that while I will depart shortly to observe the joyous spectacle that will soon unfold, my ally knows exactly what they are doing, and I swear that you are far out of harm's reach "

She nodded, sensing that it would be no use to ask him to let her get away from the explosion. But there was another thing that hardly made sense to her.

"But why did you want to speak to me?"

"I wanted to speak to you about Zsasz, so that you would understand his true nature and so that you might forgive me for putting you through this strenuous day," he offered kindly – and pompously.

Sophie, however, did not buy it. I am no one and I know nothing, she inwardly repeated, testing out her new mantra she and Cobblepot had both implicitly agreed on.

She she did not believe for one second that her 'forgiveness' held any value for him.

"I see. Thank you, Mister Cobblepot."

"You're most welcome, Miss Brent. Thank you for the civil chat. I'll be on my way now."

Without another word, he turned around and slowly walked out of her sight, leaving her to listen to the echoing sound of his walking cane, the beating of her heart, and the jumbled mess of her own thoughts.

Not even a minute after he left the apartment, her abductors returned, wordlessly getting back into the positions they had been in before.

Thump. Thump. Thump

Think. Think. Think.

It was hard for her to make out in the dim light, but Sophie could have sworn that the young man with the freckles had briefly smiled at her before he moved to lean against a wall and became a shadowy silhouette.

Thump.

She did not smile back.

Think.

Instead, she counted down from 600. Then, after ten minutes, she took a deep breath.

"Can I maybe get a phone call? Or write a letter? You could take it with you when you leave. I really want to say goodbye to my parents." Sophie felt so nervous that her voice trembled when she said the words. Possibly not a bad thing, she thought.

"What?" The middle-aged man's gruffy voice inquired.

"I would really like to write a farewell letter to my parents."

"You don't have to say goodbye to anyone. We'll get you back home in a couple of hours and if you don't cause us any trouble, you will never see our faces again."

He did not sound too unkind, but when he lit himself another cigarette, Sophie could catch a glimpse of the annoyance on his face. However, she could not let herself get discouraged.

"I understand that you are not allowed to say anything to me, but Cobblepot told me about the explosives, so I know that I'm going to die. So, please, let me write a farewell note to my parents."

For several seconds, neither of the men reacted.

Then, the younger one croaked: "Explosives?"

"Don't be an idiot, she's just messing with you," the older man grunted.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he did not sound too sure.

One second later, a loud explosion shook the building and shattered her heart.

Author's note: I am officially out of excuses for not having anything resembling an upload schedule. I actually had most of this chapter written ages ago, but I kept changing things because I felt rather angsty about going off-canon. Once again, thank you for reading!