AN: Ah, the magic of painkillers. The ones at Arkham could make you forget an amputation. And you know what a big mistake is? Leaving your goons to attack ONE AT A TIME. What is this, chivalry practice? Your only hope is to overwhelm him and hope I don't accidentally shoot you.
Christineoftheopera-What universe are you in, some nice alternate one where Batman isn't a cheating bastard? There was that one that you were redheaded and...British, I believe. You looked a little like a Troll doll, actually. We swore never to speak of that again. Aw, c'mon, it was adorkable.
Johanna Crane-We keep telling him to check in, but he refuses to listen. You'd think he'd listen to me-I did go to school for that sort of thing, after all. Jonathan, love, you have a track record of driving sane people quite mad. I can diagnose the crazies. I never said I'd cure them.
Richardson is out of her cell.
Richardson is out of her cell.
He was just stopping by-really, he just happened to be near there!-when he noticed that the door was wide open. Crane had probably fetched her.
Son of a bitch. Can't he be like the Joker and leave her to fend for herself? Is that so wrong?
Either she's with him-wherever the hell that is-or she's in medical. Selfishly, he hopes she's in medical, preferably with a broken leg.
He checks there first, knowing she isn't there but hoping otherwise all the same. Sure enough, she isn't there. This just isn't fair.
She may not be there, but she did leave him a little note, hastily scrawled on one of the empty clipboards.
Sorry for borrowing some of the painkillers. And maybe kinda sorta killing a nurse. :/
Sometimes, just sometimes, he wishes she was confined to a wheelchair. And mute. Definitely mute.
He goes back out into the hall. Sure enough, at the end, half-shoved into a vent, is yet another body. He pulls it out of the vent-broken neck, at least it was quick-and closes the eyes. It's all he can do for now.
"Hel-lo, Batsy!" The Joker's voice is piercing. "Having fun down there? Our little nurse is…now, now, Kitty-cat, there's no reason for those kind of gestures."
He ignores the clown and keeps walking, keeping an eye out for anything of interest.
Giggling erupts from the speaker and he resists the urge to roll his eyes. He'd be grateful if the speakers broke, to be honest. Now, where would she be…?
A wild shriek comes from somewhere ahead of him. Before he can really see what it is, something hurtles out of the darkness. It's only when its face connects with his fist that he realizes that it's a Blackgate prisoner, half-drugged.
Well, half-drugged and with two mostly-healed scars on the sides of his head, coincidentally where the Electrocutioner likes to jam his equipment.
Poor bastard.
"D'you like him?" The voice is a low whisper and for a moment he's not sure if it's Richardson or Crane. "There's more where that came from."
"Just give up now, Richardson."
There's a giggle, unexpectedly girlish in nature. He continues forward, trying to pick out where in the blackness she's hiding.
"Where, oh where has my little Bat gone?" she sing-songs from…somewhere to the left, he thinks. "Where, oh where can he be? With his ears lopped off and his throat ripped out…oh, where, oh, where can he be?"
Or maybe to the right.
"Kindly incapacitate him, but don't kill him. And mind the face, he's got such a nice chin."
What?
And then another inmate drops from above, wrapping his arms around him with an inhuman screech.
He flings that one off just in time to be piled upon by a group-three? Four? At least one of them's had Titan, he can recognize that by now.
Scraaaappppeeee.
There she is. Crane's taken his glove back
Probably out of the goodness of his heart, shame it doesn't apply to innocent lives
but she's found a pipe to drag along behind her. He's pleased to see that she's bruised and limping. It's a small victory.
"Hullo, sweetie."* She pauses, grinning. "I've always wanted to say that."
"Shut up, Richardson."
WHAM!
That's just cheating.
He pitches the last of her goons into the wall just in time for her to smack him with the pipe again. He grabs it before she can swing again, yanks it out of her grasp, and slams her against a door.
She laughs at him, uncontrollable, shrieking laughter that probably stems from the painkillers more than amusement.
"You know, Bats, I could claim domestic violence."
"Where's Crane?"
"No idea."
He picks her up, cutting off that horrible laughter.
"Let's try again."
"I don't know!" She's still grinning, but it's a pained grimace. "He had something to set up."
She's telling the truth. He doesn't have to like it, but there it is. But that does not mean she can be out doing things.
"Come on."
He drags her back to her cell yet again and drops her on the bed before turning to leave.
"Aren't you going to ravish me?"
"Shut up, Richardson."
"No hard feelings!"
He ignores her, slams the cell door, and stalks down the hall.
THE END
*Courtesy of Doctor Who. And really...you'd think she'd learn to leave Batman alone. Though I suppose the same could be said of everyone else.