Chapter 29

Otis, Ed, and I walk the streets of Gotham, with Otis leading the way.

"There're these people who snatch children and throw them into their van," he explains, "then they bring them to a shipping warehouse on the bay. The kids are put in crates which go on ships."

"And how long has this been going on?" I ask.

"No idea, I just followed them when they snatched my brother and some of his friends."

"Why didn't they snatch you?"

He looks down, "I...I was still in the apartment, looking out the window. He was hanging on the complex steps with a couple of his friends when they came offering free food. They said they were with the mayor's homeless outreach, but we we're homeless. There must have been something in the sandwiches they gave, because he and his friends passed out on the ground. I ran down the stairs to help, but by the time I reached the front door...they were gone."

I nod understandably, "And you followed the van?"

"How could I not? My brother was in there but...but there was no way I could get him out alone. I was trying to get other kids from the Flea to join me but, none of them would come..." he stops in place, "we're here."

Ed and I look up and see a large, tall warehouse on the edge of the bay. Otis shows us to a nearby fire escape, which we climb to the roof of the building. As I jump up to reach the first rung on the ladder, Ed's directly under me. I look down and he's blushing for some reason. Then I realize I'm wearing a miniskirt.

I smirk, "You see something you like?"

"Just...mirid curiosity," he mumbles, shirting his eyes around with a nervous smile.

We make it to the roof, and Otis approaches the gap between the apartment roof and the slanted roof of the warehouse.

"Pardon me but...do you expect us to jump across that?" Ed questions the young boy.

The boy nods, "It's not that hard."

Ed takes a couple of steps back, placing his hands in front of him and closing one eye, "By my calculations, you'd need to have a velocity-"

I take off running toward the roof's edge, sprinting as fast as I can. I reach the end and jump up onto the ledge, leaping off of it. Flying through the air, I catch myself by my hands on the end of the roof. Hanging off of the edge, I swing my legs up and hoist myself up onto the roof.

"...like that," Ed concludes.

Otis goes next, copying my format of getting a running start, and then jumping at the end to reach the roof. We both look up and see Ed, still on the other side. He shakes his head, "Not possible."

"C'mon dude, it's a five foot jump!" Otis criticizes.

I back up and run back, jumping off of the warehouse roof and catch myself on the ledge of the apartment roof.

As I stand up, Ed twiddles with his fingers, shuffling his hands together, "Please, please...you bring me closer to a heart attack every time you do that."

"Well then, don't make me do it again. You can do this Ed," I tell him.

Otis is already continuing to a section of the roof where he opens up a hidden skylight and looks back, "If he doesn't want to come, that's fine. We can do it ourselves."

I scrunch my eyebrows. Could I? True, it would probably be safer for Ed if he just stayed outside, but, Otis came to us for help, not so that we could wimp out at the last second.

I back off, "Alright then, you stay."

Ed's eyes pop out in surprise, he knows I usually wouldn't let something like this slide so easily. But I'm not letting it slide.

I run back toward the warehouse, jumping off of the ledge and grabbing ahold of the thatches on the roof. One of my hands lets go of the roof, my other sliding to the edge and barely grasping the tip, as my legs dangle over the edge.

"AHH!" I yelp, as my other hand flails around trying to grab the roof.

Ed jerks his head up, "Natalie! Hang on!" he steps back, before bursting into a light jog, his feet awkwardly clopping along the concrete roof. He steps up onto the ledge and jumps, his tall body easily carrying him over to the warehouse. Landing with both feet on top, he runs over and grabs my free hand, allowing myself to use his weight to lift myself up.

The minute I'm up, I run into Ed's arms, holding him close, "Thank you."

He wraps his arms around me, pressing his head and nuzzling it into my forehead. I bury my face into his sternum and smile, I knew he could do it.

"Eww…" Otis groans in disgust.

Through the skylight, we drop down into the dark warehouse, dimly lit by low hanging lights. There's dozens of shipping crates stacked up on top of each other, creating a maze-like configuration.

"How are we suppose to know which one the kids are in?" I ask aloud.

Footsteps echo in the distance, and Otis, Ed, and I hide behind a set of crates, peering out from the spaces between the crates.

Three figures walk into view, a middle aged man and woman, plus Aaron. Otis points to the woman and man.

"Those're the guys that snatched my brother-"

I hush him up, but it's too late. The three turn around in our direction, and we distance ourselves from the space. I begin to draw one of my knives, preparing to attack.

The woman marches up to the crate separating us and them and bangs on the crate, prompting several cries, "What did I say about talking?!"

I breath a sigh of relief. She must've thought Otis's voice was someone from inside one of the crates.

"Yeah, shut up!" Aaron joins in, chuckling afterwards.

The woman turns around, "I don't know where you get all these kids from, but the least you could do is teach them some manners first."

He raises his arms in defense, "Hey, I just collect the punks."

"Well, you're certainly good at what you do," the man compliments, "the first shipment is leaving for the Dollmaker today."

Otis's eyes shoot open, and I know exactly what he's thinking. He thinks his brother is on that ship.

We wait for the group to leave before leaving our hiding spot. Following the direction of the bay, we find the loading dock, where a large cargo ship stands firm in the river.

Otis grabs the first rung of the rusty ship ladder and begins climbing. Ed and I follow the eager young boy as he scampers across the deck to the holding area for the ship. He starts wildly banging on the nearest crates, eliciting cries and yelps from the people inside.

"They're all inside the crates, is there any way you could get then open?" he asks us.

I take out my knife, brandishing it. Ed looks on in confusion, "Uhm...I don't exactly know if that's the most plausible option. Most knives can't exactly cut through steel-"

I take the padlock on the crate doors and saw my knife into it. After a few good minutes, the lock breaks and falls to the ground. I open the door to the sight of dozens of street kids crammed into a single cart, most of them having little room to even stand. They start pouring out of the crate, passing by me without so much as a second glance. I turn around and watch Otis search through the crowd, but as the last kids flow out of the crate, Otis stands by himself, his shoulders slumped and his head down. I walk up to him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

"There are several other crates on this ship. We'll find him," I reassure him, looking him in the eye.

"I don't think so," we turn around and stepping out from around the corner is a shot man in a light blue sweater vest over a white polo shirt. He wears a porcelain mask of a doll-like face, with large, soulless eyes, a wide, toothy grin, and pink circles drawn in the cheeks. Holding up a gloved hand, he waves, "Hello children. My name's Schott. I'm so excited to play with all of you."

The street kids step back, and I stand my ground, wielding my knife in front of me while Ed remains close behind. One of the kids suddenly yells out, "Are you the Dollmaker?"

Crossing his arms behind his back, the man shakes his head, "Nope, sorry sonny. But you'll get to see the Dollmaker soon," he turns his head to Ed and I, and claps his hands together, his voice sickeningly precise and pristine, "oh, fun! New friends! Oh...but, you...the man. You're too big, too tall for the Dollmaker's world."

Schott pulls a toy-like tommy gun out from behind his back, "So you'll have to go bye-bye!"

The street kids scream and scatter around the dock as he sprays bullets into the crowd. I throw myself at Ed, knocking us both to the ground. Bullets ride up towards us as Schott raises his gun. From my bag, I grab a marble and throw it toward him. It bounces off of his chest and dispels a thick mist. Not exactly what I'd hoped for, but it'll have to do.

When the mist clears, Schott stands in an empty dock. He cocks his gun, and shifts around but the area behind him is deserted as well.

"Now!" I cry.

Otis and I leap from uptop a shipping crate, landing on top of him and knocking him to the floor.

Now unconscious, I lift up his body and carry him to a nearby janitor's closet while Otis watches as Ed leads the street kids off of the boat.

Locking him in the closet, I return to Otis who is impatiently pulling at the latch of the next crate. I yank his hands away and cut into the lock with my knife. The lock falls, and upon opening the doors, more street kids start pouring out, rushing past me. Otis waits until the final child has left the crate.

"The...the next one...he must be in the next one," he assures himself.

Several crates later, we're down to the last one, at the edge of the ship's dock. I hack the lock off with a few fellow swoops, having become quite proficient at it. The doors fly open and another group of kids flood out. Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I whip around to reveal a frantic Ed.

"Two GCPD officers have arrived, and are facing off with the kidnappers. I did not catch a glimpse of them, but I'm certain they were GCPD. How should we proceed?"

I lean in to whisper, "They're going to think we're street kids as well with these clothes on. We should slip away from the group once all of the children are released."

"My thoughts exactly," he responds.

Otis gasps as a tall, thin teenager with numerous bruises and wounds stumbles out of the crate. He runs to the older boy, grabbing and hugging him.

"Big brother!" he cries.

The boy chuckles, looking down at Otis, "Hey there...you little rascal...what are you doing here?"

"I came to save you!" he declares proudly.

"No kidding…" the boy looks up, "did you help my brother here?"

I raise my hands up, smiling, "Hey, it was his idea. We were just following orders."

There's a loud bang, and we all duck.

"No one move a muscle," Aaron commands, holding up a pistol.

We remain on the ground, as Aaron waves his gun, "Get back inside the crate. All of you."

We begin backing up into the crate when Otis's brother comes charging at Aaron, grabbing both of his wrists. They struggle for control of the weapon, as they push each other to the edge of the deck. I run toward them to help when a gunshot rings out. Blood starts running from Otis's brother's chest, and with the last of his strength, he hurls himself and Aaron off of the deck, the both of them plunging into the water below.

"What happened?!" Otis cries, running up to the deck.

I stare down into the river. How could I tell this young boy that his own brother had just sacrificed himself? Police sirens begin blaring before I can contemplate this further.

"Hurry!" Ed shouts, gesturing for us to leave.

As we run off of the ship, past an open, empty janitor's closet, I can't help but see Otis quickly wipe away brimming tears. I don't need to explain to him what happened. He understands it perfectly well, he's seen it plenty of times before.

Oswald walks the streets of Gotham, having just crossed the city limits a couple of blocks back. He's already in familiar territory. In one city scene alone, Oswald spots a common theft, a police officer dealing with a thug, another theft, and a hooker offering her services. The greed, corruption, blatant lack of morals...these are all integral parts of Gotham, it's what defines this city, what makes it so powerful. It's the organized crime capital of the world, it's a cesspool of debauchery and sleaze, it's…

"Home."

Author's Note: Team Oswald is in the lead! Just in time for his comeback! :)

SexyKnickers: Thanks, and yay for Team Oswald!

Fuchsia Grasshopper: Yeah, I was worried it would be jarring since Natalie hasn't been in an action sequence in a while. And yes, Ed's skills lie more in his brains than in his fists. As for Oswald and Ed meeting in-show, I would suspect they could only be friends if Ed was already starting to go Riddler. Otherwise their outlooks on life are too different

Kizzi: Another one for Team Oswald!

Thanks!