AN: Companion piece to 'Medical'. It hurt. And it was unprovoked. Well, you know. Mostly. Sort of. A little.
SwordStitcher-I can think of four or five people that might be able to open the doors. Your only hope is for Jervis to take pity on you...anyone look like Alice? You could sacrifice them.
Jasmine Scarthing-I always seem to find my better victims at night...the drunk, the homeless, the stupid...they all just come strolling past my door.
firefly244-Bah, humbug. Be nice to the public, Jonny-boy. You kill them more often than me! Hypocrite. Yep.
Just-Me-and-My-Brain-It's very common in Gotham. We're a very paranoid city. Although we rather brought it on ourselves.
She'd managed to avoid him for about fifteen minutes, mostly by doubling back and hiding in the shadows. Not bad, really. Considering.
She was more than a little skittish about the glove, really. That thing was an accident waiting to happen, especially since it didn't fit her very well.
She was minding her own business, wondering where he'd gotten to, when she was-literally-swept off her feet and slammed into a gargoyle.
Ow.
That was going to leave a mark.
"What's the plan, Crane?"
That was for her to know and him to wonder about, wasn't it? Besides, she was rather insulted that he hadn't recognized her. 'Greatest detective', indeed! That had always been, and always would be, Sherlock Holmes.
Preferably as played by Benedict Cumberbatch.
She shrugged and watched him come closer. A little more…little more…why was he stopping? Was the great Batman scared of needles?
"Crane!"
She'd love to talk, truly she would, but that would ruin this little game. And that wouldn't be any fun at all.
She was going to have to move, though, because she was starting to get stiff. Thrown into a gargoyle…hadn't he heard of asking nicely?
She got to her feet-yeah, that was a bruise already-and wondered how the glove worked. Did you just stab with it? Was there a hidden switch? Did it do anything but sit there and look creepy? (Scratch that last-that was his latest batch in there, she could tell.)
Well, learn something new every day!
She let him rush her this time-there was no need to stab herself, she'd never hear the end of it-before trying to stab him. She got one finger in-it would do-and a trickle of toxin left the needle before he shook her off, grabbed her round the neck, and threw her.
Maybe it was an accident, but he tossed her down a flight of stairs.
Ouch
Ouch
Ouch
OUCH
Ow.
Pain.
Bruises.
Mother…fucking…asshole.
Okay…two broken ribs, countless bruises…possible concussion, but she couldn't tell about that last one. Hopefully not.
He was standing over before she could get up, arms crossed. He had no business being grouchy. She'd been thrown into a gargoyle and tossed down a flight of stairs and what had happened to him? NOTHING!
It was almost a shame she hadn't died. He'd never get over the guilt. Not that he'd have too much time to feel guilty, really.
"Tell me the plan, Crane."
She shook one needle-clad finger back and forth and grinned-ouch. Grinning hurt.
"Scarecrow, then." Hey! There was no need to sound so sarcastic. Scarecrow was his own…person.
She shook the finger again and reached up to pull the mask off. It was a shame he was wearing that cowl-the look on his face was probably priceless.
"That hurt."
Wait.
Was that…eye shadow?
She knew it was probably to blend in with the cowl, but…but…
Harley would find this hilarious.
"Is that eye shadow?"
He didn't seem to find that funny, because he grabbed her ankle and started dragging her down the hall, making no move to avoid any fallen objects. It might have just been her, but he didn't seem to be very steady on his feet. Maybe she'd given him enough of a dose to have some effect, after all.
"Just stay here."
Here? Where was…aw, come on!
"Fine. But you're too late." He stopped just outside the cell but didn't turn around. She struggled up and slung one arm-the one with the glove-through the bars. "You're too late, Bats. You'd be better off just waiting here, making sure I don't die of internal bleeding. Could you handle the guilt if that happened?"
He left, his cape billowing out and taking up most of the hallway. Fine.
"Fine!" she shouted. "Leave me here to choke to death on my own blood! See if I care!"
She made her way to the cot and flopped back. Ow. Ow. Ow.
Her only real consolation was that the Batman, the Dark Knight, the terror of Gotham's criminals…wore black eye shadow.
THE END