Chapter 19

The rest of the day was uneventful at best. But for a line of work such as this, a little boredom is always welcome. Ruby drove the men back to the mansion. Oswald curtly thanked the two men - if Rocco and Bigfoot weren't their names, then they should have been - for their services, yet asked them to return later that evening. Once home, Ruby set to work on the afternoon chores. She did the laundry. Paid a few bills. Cleaned the windows. Gardened, thusly bringing in a basketful of veggies that would nourish them both tonight. Took a few calls.

Then, she retired to one of the drawing rooms. Not too long ago, her low social status would have forbidden her from relaxing in any room aside from her own. But since his ascent, Oswald had tossed those rules out the window. Now, Ruby could do as she liked, in any chamber of the mansion, given that she never interrupt a meeting or neglect her duties. Ruby wouldn't have dreamed of doing either.

This drawing room was a very nice one to recline in. Painted entirely in pale azure, from the wallpaper to the curtains, it gave one the feeling of being in a cozy robin's egg. There were two oak bookshelves as tall as basketball hoops, each one stuffed with yellow-paged volumes that Ruby occasionally skimmed through. A chandelier of stained blue glass brightened every corner of the cubicle once the sun set. White and blue vases of the Ming dynasty dominated the shelves. Ruby always dusted those sitting down out of fear of dropping them. Paintings of the sea hung on the walls, sometimes so realistic that one could almost smell the salty breeze.

Ruby had never been to the sea. Never been anywhere unless one counted the worlds in books. But who knows? Maybe, someday, she could go.

With Oswald.

Ruby shook her head. Hopefully, that thought will have flown out through her ear. Her, and Oswald? Scandal! Odium! She had to keep her mind on more practical matters. Like making sure her jewels were in perfect shape, and listening to the news while she did.

Holding the magnifying glass with a third arm, which she'd sprouted from her forehead, Ruby carefully held up each gem in her possession. Polished and repaired when needed. As she worked, steadily and comfortably, she went over each stone's meaning. Garnet; associated with love, self-confidence, strength, and bravery. Sapphire; symbol of sincerity, truth, and loyalty. Opal; it stimulates creativity and inconsistency, flippant and spontaneous. And so on.

The news channel, provided by the old television, provided a white noise. Infinitely better than the crushing silence that came with being alone.

Until something came up.

The name of a place that often appeared in Ruby's nightmares.

The diamond bracelet that she'd been polishing landed on the carpet. Unnoticed. Ruby slowly looked up, setting down the polishing equiptment and magnifying glass. Her third arm shrank back into her forehead. She rose. Watching. Listening. A block of ice melted in her stomach.

"Investigations continue in light of disturbing rumors regarding Arkham Asylum." The newslady was saying. "Apparently, its controversial leader, Hugo Strange, has been supposedly performing illegal experiments. Some of these so-called 'monsters' have been spotted throughout the last couple of weeks. One utilized what witnesses are calling a 'freeze gun'. Another supposedly had the left arm of a reptile. The police are limiting information until the full story can be discovered. Stay tuned."

Ruby sat there during the commercial break. Not following any of it. Everything around her had frozen. Limited itself to those brief images, those clipped words. And what they could mean. The maid rested her head in her hands, shaking it.

No. No, it couldn't be true. But it was. Gotham's news channels weren't famous for their honesty, but Ruby doubted even they'd go this far.

That could only mean one thing. That hers hadn't been the last batch. Hugo Strange was still cooking up more creatures, presumably in the same basement laboratory where he'd 'fixed' her. A nauseating mixture of terror and pity stirred within Ruby. She could only imagine how those poor souls were being treated. How they were being stripped of their humanity, piece by piece. That was how it had been with her. Every time someone had looked at her, they had either quickly looked away or outright laughed. Whispers of disgust had floated around her like dust particles.

Who knew if the damned in there were going through the same. For what purpose that they'd been tested on. For their sake, Ruby hoped that none of them had matched hers.

But one thing was for sure: she couldn't sit around and wait.

Ruby inhaled deeply. Glanced at the clock. Okay. It was half-past five. Dinner was usually served at six, but Oswald had asked her to change dinnertime for seven-thirty instead. Last-minute business, he claimed. Fine, more time for her. But rather than simply leave, Ruby quickly wrote a note saying that she would be back first. Oswald knew in which room she was, so he would find it.

Inhaling shakily, Ruby opened the window. Her skin loosened once against, stretching and connecting at her sides. She flew out as gracefully as a swallow.

The basement was a rather nice room, if one didn't mind cool, dark places. All of the walls had been carved into honeycomb-like structures, with each small cubicle hosting a bottle of wine. Objects that simply hadn't found their place in the upper floors lingered down here like spectres: small marble statues, a stuffed moose's head, and various trophies. Decorations for Christmas, Halloween, and Thanksgiving. Gardening equiptment. The washing machine and dryer. All stood here silently, watching their two guests.

The two bodyguards - Rocco and Bigfoot - stood fumbling their thumbs. The boss had told them to meet him down here with no weapons, nor communication devices. Fishy request, for sure, but considering what he was paying them, they'd have shown up naked if so he'd asked.

But there was no denying that waiting around was boring as hell.

"God," Rocco whipped out a cigar, lit it, and began puffing away. "What's taking so goddamn long?"

Bigfoot grinned. "Maybe he's still banging the maid."

Rocco smirked around the cigar. "Hmm, yeah. That's probably it." He cracked his knuckles. "What do you think? That he fucks her from behind or...?"

"I bet they do it standing up." Bigfoot chuckled. "And she's probably the one standing 'cause she's taller than him."

The two men shared a laugh, exchanging images of the boss and the maid 'porking'. Everything from blowjobs to spanking was described in great detail, and the two found it boundlessly hilarious.

The one eavesdropping, though, did not.

He cleared his throat. The cackling stopped as though someone had flipped a switch. The two men stood at the ready, with Rocco putting out his cigar. Oswald limped out of the shadows, still dressed in his fine suit. His eyes were like chips of blue ice. "Hello, boys." His smile didn't reach the upper half of his face. "I trust I did not make you wait too long?"

The two men muttered, assuring him that they hadn't.

"Good." Oswald lurched towards them until they were all mere feet apart. He gestured to the two chairs that had been set up. "Please. Sit."

Rocco and Bigfoot shared a nervous glance before obeying. They tried to get comfortable, but it was no easy task. The chairs were little better than thick blocks of wood nailed together. Oswald smirked. Stepped in between the chairs and rested his pale hands onto their spines. His fingers traced the objects hidden there. "So," He said conversationally, "how did you boys enjoy your first day here? Was it to your liking?"

"Oh, sure." Bigfoot nodded.

"Yeah." Rocco said. "We had fun."

"I'm sure." Oswald kept smirking. "I'm certain that you two enjoyed cracking jokes about the nature of my relationship with Ruby." He pretended to think. "What was the term? You thought we were...porking?" Rocco and Bigfoot froze, looked at each other, and rushed to get up. In one swift motion Oswald extracted the two long nails and drove them through the men's hands. Their screams echoed through the basement, while the moose's head watched on blankly.

Ruby landed nimbly on the roof, her slippered feet making contact with the wet pavement. The moment she left the sky, her makeshift wings departed. She stretched, grinning, as bones popped wonderfully. Once every nerve in her body was buzzing once again, Ruby looked around.

The place was still as she remembered it. All of the three buildings that made up Arkham Asylum were crumbling away. The orchard was barely better than a shrieveled wasteland. Crows took the sky. Only now...it somehow seemed darker. More lethal. There were guards all around the building. The chimneys sputtered ugly black smoke. But beyond that, it simply felt more ominous. Ruby wanted to hightail out of here. But if she did, her conscience would never forgive her.

Taking a deep breath, Ruby turned her body to liquid. It slithered across the pavement, quick as a serpent. Seeped into the air vents. Following every suspicious noise the clay shifted, moving urgently. It made its way through cobwebs and dead moths, shuddering all the while. It took more lefts and rights than anyone could keep track of, focusing on going down. At last, there came the noises. Roars. Snarls. Howls. Screams. The liquid shivered at the sounds.

At last, it reached the air vent. Pouring itself through the slit, the clay reformed into Ruby on the floor. Feet. Shins. Legs. Hips. Waist. Chest. Arms. Shoulders. Neck. When it finally reached the head, Ruby inhaled deeply. Ran both hands through her curly hair. Pulled it slightly. Melting was never a pleasant experience. It felt so surreal, being able to move despite not having bones or muscles. That, and she felt gross.

But now was not the time to pity herself. Ruby raised her eyes and gulped. The place was blinding white, drenched in flourescent lighting, and lined with stainless steel. Everything reeked of disinfectant and, just beneath that, fear.

It was Moving Day, apparently. From her spot in the shadows she saw orderlies dragging large boxes and cages out of cells. Each one of those boxes was making some kind of noise. None of them sounded human. It didn't matter. Ruby hunched down. Waited. When a nurse walked past her hiding spot, Ruby's rubbery arms shot out, one covering her mouth, and dragging her into the dark. Minutes later, what appeared to be the nurse stepped out again. Tucking hairs back in the bun, and adjusting her uniform. She stopped at the name tag. Reading it. "Olivia." She said to herself in a croaky, changing voice. "Olivia Rossi." She closed her eyes. Took a few calming breaths. "Okay. Okay. I can do this." Glancing back, she nodded. The real nurse was stuck to the wall with clay like a fly in a spider's web. A hunk of drying clay muffled her lips. "Sorry, ma'am." Ruby apologized. "But this is something that I have to do. Don't worry, the clay will break off in six hours. My body can't stay in an altered form any longer than that." She waved and left.

What Ruby saw would haunt her forever. Some still looked normal enough. Their biggest peculiarity was white hair or a muzzle. But others...whatever they were now, they weren't human. Ruby didn't recognize any of her old friends from her time here. No surprise there. That had been eight years ago. She hoped that they had been freed. And not...Ruby shuddered.

One inmate in particular halted her tracks. Not because of her looks, but because of her familiarity. Sitting in a small cell was a short, yet slender woman with skin the color of milk chocolate and black, red-streaked hair. Her face was long and elegant, with chiseled cheekbones and heart-shaped lips. When those eyes met hers, Ruby recognized them. One was brown, but the other had become pale blue. But Ruby recognized her all the same. Newspapers had talked about her death for weeks.

"Fish Mooney." She whispered.

The woman smirked. "Well, nice to know someone here doesn't call me 'Number 13'." She got to her feet. Indeed, she was short. Just over five feet, but no more. Ruby stared down at her, dumbstruck. This was her. Oswald's first boss. The one who had crippled him. Tried to kill him. Ruby knew that she should hate this woman. But now, looking at her through bars...she just felt pity. Fish Mooney eyed her coldly. "What's the matter, Rossi? Ain't you gonna taunt me some more? Maybe deprive me of my food rations again?"

"I..." Ruby glanced away, flabberghasted. Now, she wasn't so sorry for what she'd done to the nurse. "No, Miss Mooney. I won't. I...just came for information."

"Oh?" Fish leaned her head back, suspicious. "Well, this is an interesting change. What can I do for you?"

Ruby gestured at the commotion. "What's going on here? I mean...really?"

Fish chuckled. "Someone hasn't been paying attention in class. To put it simply we're being moved upstate. Gotham could very well find out about us soon, and our dear little Hugo doesn't want that."

"Hugo..." Just saying that name made Ruby's jaw clench. "Uh...thanks, Miss Mooney. I'll see what I can do." She meant that. Moving away from Fish's cage, she didn't see the way the former boss looked at her. Suspiciously.

Oswald grinned as the two men continued to scream. Just for extra giggles, he wiggled the nails. He could feel their thin, metallic bodies shifting in bone and muscle. The men screamed louder. It was delicious. But knowing that time was of the essence, he let go. Eventually, their shouts melted into sobs. Pathetic.

"Now," Oswald stepped in front of them, "you no doubt have heard about what I do to those who betray me, yes?"

Rocco and Bigfoot moaned as they nodded.

"Those who embezzle money, who snitch on me to the police, who turn to my enemies...the list goes on." Oswald leaned forward. "They all paid for their crimes. Every last one. They are all rotting in their ground or in the river."

Rocco began to cry. Bigfoot looked ready to wet himself.

"Though I will admit that your crime was not nearly so serious." Oswald said airily. "You merely insulted my good friend and I, expecting that I would show you the same mercy that I show her." He grabbed both men by their ties and yanked them forward. They grimaced. The motion sent bolts of pain racing from their hands to the rest of their bodies. "But there is one crucial difference between you two scum-buckets and her: Ruby is my friend. She has demonstrated her loyalty time and again. You two, on the other hand, have not. Nor are you my friends. You are expendable guards, nothing more. If I throw two pieces of gutter trash away, two more will float to the surface. Do you understand?"

Bigfoot nodded shakily. Rocco, through tears, muttered that he did, that he was sorry. Oswald smiled sickly. "There. Now was that so hard?" He reached into his coat's pocket. Out came two switchblade, nestled between three fingers. As sharp and bright as lightning bolts. Both men froze. "Now, let us go over it one more time. Ruby is...?"

"Your friend." They both said.

"And she and I..?"

"Don't pork." They answered.

Oswald smiled. "Very nice, men. But you see, actions can never be erased by words. There are consequences to our actions. This," he held up the switchblades, "is your consequence."

He let the knives fly.

Ruby desperately tried not to trip with these ridiculous heels. Damn, Ms. Peabody had awful taste, right down to the purple lipstick. But she did have the keys to confidential files, which was why Ruby had followed her to the bathroom and locked her in the stall. By the time the lady got out, Ruby will have gotten the job done.

Not for the first time, Ruby speculated on how Oswald was changing her. Months ago, she would never have dared to pull a stunt like this. And it felt good. Powerful.

Ruby reached into the lab coat pocket, which thankfully had the keys. A little souvenir Ruby had taken right before she'd locked the stall's door from the outside. Only problem was, there were about a dozen keys, and they all looked identical. Slapping a lid over her boiling anger, Ruby found the door she'd been searching and began to go through them. It was the sixth one that did the trick. Stepping inside, she decided that six was her new lucky number.

The files' room was creepy to say the least. Dimly lit. Filled with cobwebs. At least twenty battered gray cabinets. "Oh, great." Sighing, Ruby adjusted the glasses on her nose. She checked her watch. Okay. She had been in this form for nearly an hour, searching through the building for this exact room. That meant she had five hours to do everything she had to do and leave. She needed some power to get home without Oswald noticing. Swallowing hard, Ruby locked the door. Then, she sprouted ten extra arms, stretching her body out like a centipede. Carefully, she combed her way through the cabinets. Searching for some clue. Some reason that Dr. Strange would revert to this old process after nearly a decade. Mostly, she found files of patients - including hers. Thinking fast, she pocketed it. She didn't want anyone looking through her documents, reading about what had been done to her. What she could do now. Otherwise, it would only be too easy to figure out who did this.

She went through several names that meant nothing to her. Basil Karlo. Karen Jennings. Victor Fries. Brigit Pike. One name, however, caught her eye: Edward Nygma. Well, well. Looks like the system wasn't as broken as Ruby had thought. "For what you did to Oswald," she whispered, "I hope you rot in here forever." She slammed the drawer shut with a force that left her handprint pressed into the metal. She didn't care. It wasn't 'her' hand but Ms. Peabody's.

Finding nothing in the cabinets, Ruby went for the desk.

Twenty minutes later, at last, she finally found what she was looking for. It was in the form of a letter, with no return address. Meant for Professor Strange 'and no one else'. Directly beneath it were envelopes of...money. Ruby gasped, holding them up closer for inspection. On each envelope was written the same thing: DONATIONS FOR RESEARCH. In each envelope was at least forty thousand dollars. A careful gander revealed that these envelopes had first started popping up several months ago. Apparently, they had done so at the same time the experiments had begun again. Who was funding this project? And for what purpose? "Hmm." Carefully, Ruby folded the letters and slipped them into her pocket.

That was when the room was bathed in crimson light. Sirens began to wail.

"Oh, no." Ruby hissed. The panic caused her to lose her concentration. With a yelp and a hurtle she lost her altered form. She fell to the ground, back to normal. Ruby could already hear footsteps storming towards her. Not a second later, the door buckled under a great force. Voices demanded that, whoever she was, she surrendered. They were armed and ready to shoot. Ruby looked around desperately, looking for a way out. She found it in the form of another air vent.

The guards burst through the door, aiming their rifles. But there was nothing to point at. The air vent was open, and there was a scuttling noise. Without thinking they shot at the metal tubes. Whatever it was didn't stop. There wasn't any blood.

Professor Strange stood amongst them, solemn and thoughtful.

Oswald paced back and forth in the saloon, a glass of wine in his trembling hand. Bathed and changed, tossing the bloodstained clothes in the washer with extra bleach, he'd felt better. Until he'd called for Ruby, searched for her, and found the house empty. Dinner wasn't even ready, save for a basketful of peeled and sliced vegetables. Oh, and some polished jewels. Apparently, she'd been freshening them up with the TV on.

Oswald sighed. Women. She'd probably gone out on some errand and forgotten to inform him. Ah, well. He crashed on the sofa, careful not to spill his wine. He took a sip. Felt the sweet strength flood his veins. With each gulp, he found himself relaxing a little bit more. He allowed his troubled thoughts to dissolve, his anxiety to crumble. Instead, he focused on things that he was certain of. He wasn't quite the KIng of Gotham returned, at least not yet. But he was making daily progress. Almost a third of all gangs had pledged allegiance to him. He earned an average of eighty thousand dollars a week. He was feared and respected, and would be even more so once word spread of the fate of his filthy-talking guards.

He had a great friend. Whose location was currently a mystery to him.

Oswald sighed. Leaned back. His hand brushed against something crusty. Smiling, he glanced at it. Yep. The dried grease was still there. He allowed himself to travel back in time. Treasure the memory that this stain provided.

Two weeks ago...

Ruby was sitting on the sofa's corner, picking at the vegetable stir-fry. Oswald sat just a few inches away, munching on the baked salmon she'd prepared for him. The film they were watching was an old, black-and-white one with classic music and corny dialogue. Father had loved this film in spite of its flaws. He'd said that it reminded him of his youth. Oswald struggled to rein in the tears. Ruby eventually noticed, and immediately set down her dish. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Oswald smiled sadly. "This..reminds me of Father."

Ruby returned his facial expression. "Me, too. That's why I like watching it."

Oswald quickly wiped the corner of his eye. Hoping she hadn't seen. "Oh?"

Ruby nodded, simpering. "He left us lots of wonderful memories. And...I think we'd be dishonoring him if we only remembered how he died. Master wasn't just his final moments. He was everything that came before that."

Oswald nodded slowly. "Yes. I suppose you're right." But this didn't make him feel any better. Ruby stared at him for a long moment, unable to bear the sorrow draped over him like a shawl. It mirrored her own too much. If those two pains collided, then they might crush them both. Master wouldn't have wanted that. Ruby wiped her own eyes, and rose. "You know what else Master liked? Dancing."

Oswald blinked. "Truly?"

"Well," Ruby rolled her eyes, "he preferred classical dancing, but yes. He could move when he really wanted to. Before...you know." She didn't need to say it. Instead, she walked towards the record player. Oswald's curious eyes followed her. A second later, agitated guitar strumming filled the room. "You know what? I feel like stagediving!"

Oswald was so surprised that he could only respond by laughing. "You are insane."

Ruby ran back towards him, already bouncing. "Yep, yep! I'm off my rocker. Let's dance!" She bent down, grabbed his wrists, and began pulling. "Come on, shake that bony white ass!" Oswald cackled again. No one had ever spoken to him so freely, so wildly. He kind of liked it. But unfortunately, he had to resist its calling. "I can't." He gestured to his bad knee.

Ruby kept dancing. Dark blue eyes searched his face, playful yet concerned. "You sure?"

"I'm sure." Oswald put his own plate down. "But if you wish to dance, then by all means. Dance until your limbs become overcooked asparagus."

Ruby grinned. "Enjoy the show then, my king!" She jumped on the coffee table, right in front of the television, and began dancing. It was nothing worthy of America's Got Talent. She just moved her hips and swayed her arms. But she looked so happy, so carefree, that Oswald couldn't help adore what he was seeing. The television's lighting cast behind her outlined her slender, curveless figure, making her look like an old-fashioned pop star. This somehow added to the absurdity of it all. Oswald shifted so that he sat in the couch's center, right in front of Ruby. Then, unable to ignore the rhythm, he began to move his arms and shoulders.

"Yes!" Ruby pointed at him triumphantly. "Rock out!"

Oswald's movement accidentally tipped over Ruby's vegetable platter. Some of the hot olive oil spilled, darkening the cloth. The two would find it the next morning, and laugh about it.

Oswald closed his eyes. Squeezed them. Leaned his head back. "Ruby," he whispered, "where are you?"

In that moment the door swung open. Ruby stood in the frame, looking tired and sweaty and very shaken up. Her hair was a blonde-brown-gray rat's nest. Her eyes were anime-big and tense. Her clothes were streaked with dust. Files were clenched in her trembling fingers. Tearstains shone like silver on her flushed cheeks.

"Ruby!" Oswald jumped to his feet. Hobbled quickly over to her. He grasped her shoulders. "Where have you been? Are you alright?"

"I...I...oh, dear." Ruby covered her face with her hands. Fell to her knees. Oswald fell with her. Wrapped his arms around her shaking form. "I've got you." He held her close, trying to calm her down. "What happened? Please. I...I was worried."

Ruby was dry-heaving. Wanting to cry or vomit (or both) but lacked the biological tools to do so. She trembled. Leaned into Oswald's embrace. Images flashed through her brain. Scarring her. Haunting her. But now, in Oswald's gentle hold, they couldn't really hurt her.

Without a word, she held up the files.