Chapter 33

While Ruby played checkers with the richest teenager in Gotham, Oswald had other fish that needed frying.

Well, one fish.

He spent the entire day going from one shady location to another, all but diving out of his limo the moment they arrived. With the help of Victor Zsaz, who only came under promise of violence, Oswald cornered every gang in the city. Slicing, nicking, punching, kicking. Demanding to know the whereabouts of Fish or any of the other 'monsters'.

He hated using that word, but Oswald had a reputation to uphold. This horrid video business had already caused damage to both Ruby and himself. Nobody had expected Oswald Cobblepot, the terror of Gotham, to shelter one of those unnatural offsprings of madness. Even though sympathy was quickly spreading across the media, Oswald still couldn't allow to be seen as soft. In Gotham, softness quickly became rigor mortis.

Hence, the language he would have given anything to avoid.

He collided his fist against the man's tattooed cheek. Beneath the fleshy layer, he felt teeth loosen. Nice. "Where is she?!" He yelled again.

"I don't know!" The tattoeed man yelled for the third time. "I-I only heard that most of the freaks left town!"

Oswald paused. Thought back on Ruby's relocation plan. For the first time, he felt grateful for it. At the time, he hadn't thought much of this activity. Seen it as a hobby and little else. Now he saw the vitality of it: because there were fewer of them, Fish wouldn't have as many supernatural allies. Sure, she could try rounding up some of her former supporters. But who would pledge allegiance to a dead woman?

Oswald grabbed him by the tattooed throat. It was slippery with blood. He stared deep into the man's watery eyes. His own were as hard as glass. "If I find that you have kept the truth from me-"

"I didn't, Mr. Cobblepot! I swear!"

Oswald gave him a long look. Then, very softly, he spoke. "Very well. If you answer this last question honestly, I will spare your life."

The tattooed man nodded quickly.

"If you don't know where Fish Mooney is, can you tell me who might?"

"Yes!" The man replied. "Try Barker! Benjamin Barker, down East Avenue. A real freakshow lover. If anything weird gets under his nose, he'll know!"

Oswald smiled tightly. "Thank you." Letting go of the man's throat, he stepped back. Nodded at Zsaz. As he turned around, walking towards the limo, the man's yelps were quickly quieted by a single gunshot. Oswald had kept his word. His conscience was clear.

Ruby leaned back in her chair, grinning at the score. "Two victories for you, three for me." She announced. "Seems more than fair."

Bruce gave a slight chuckle. "Yeah. I haven't played checkers in a very long time. Alfred is more of a chess man."

Ruby held out a platter of golden-brown dates to him. With a word of thanks he took one. Popping it in his mouth, he watched her carefully as she, in turn, looked out the window. Scratching the back of her neck and crossing her legs at the ankles. She seemed so...normal. Just an average woman in her mid-twenties. Completely unremarkable in appearance and normal in behavior. No one would have ever suspected her of having such gifts.

And yet.

Ruby's big eyes shifted back to him. Bruce quickly lowered his gaze. The young woman chuckled. "Don't worry, kid. Can't blame you for looking."

Bruce cupped his hand over his mouth. Spat the slimy pit into his palm, and hid it in his handkerchief. Cleared his throat. "I apologize."

Ruby shrugged. "At least you're not filming me. I swear, I don't think I'll be okay with cameras for a while." She brushed some cracker crumbs from her sweatshirt. "But...if there's anything you want to ask me, go ahead."

Bruce's eyes gleamed with gratitude. "Um...do you know why you were altered?"

"I was born deformed." Ruby replied immediately. "My parents are both in the fashion business. They'd have rather died than have a monster for a kid. So they hid me from the world for as long as they could. But the older I got, the more restless I became. I began making noise on purpose." She looked away. "Just for a shred of attention. So...they just...sent me to Arkham. Just like that. With everything that I owned in a little suitcase."

Bruce was quiet for a moment. His pale hand reached across the table. Found hers. A smiling Ruby squeezed it in thanks. Found the image amusing, considering how small and soft his hand was. She noticed bruises and cuts across the knuckles. As though he'd been fighting.

Ruby quirked a brow. "I see you're a tough one."

Bruce let go of her hand as he nodded. "I want to become stronger. To defend myself...and, if needed, this city."

Now, both of Ruby's eyebrows flew up. "Check out the big hero here." Her hands rested on her crossed knees. "Well, you're gonna need a really cool superhero name. And an outfit, and a lair..." She began counting requirements from her fingers. "And gadgets, a cool car, a cape, a grappling hook-"

"And a sidekick." Bruce added. A twinkle in his eyes.

Ruby considered this. "Hmm...you have Alfred, so I suppose you already have that." Ruby shrugged. "Oh, well. I could never leave Oswald anyway."

Bruce blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. He leaned forward. His expression serious once again. "Why do you serve him?"

Ruby's expression grew tense. "Rich boy says what?"

"Why do you serve the Penguin?" Bruce repeated. "He's a crime lord. Eventually, he is going to be caught and sent to prison. And you with him."

Ruby shrugged again. "So be it."

Bruce scowled. "But why? He's a criminal!"

"Completely?" Ruby demanded. "All the time? Is he a criminal when he eats his dinner? Drinks his wine? Watches television? Huh?"

Bruce frowned.

Ruby sighed. Ran a hand through her pixie-cut hair. "Look, kid," she worked out a few knots, "I know how you must see outlaws. It's not surprising. What you went through wasn't just unfair. It was the worst sort of unfairness that a kid should have to endure. But what you need to understand is that, yes, there are people who work outside the law. Thrive outside it, in fact. But you know what? For some, being a criminal isn't all they are. If Oswald treated me the same way he treats his victims, do you really think I'd stick around?"

Bruce opened his mouth, then thought better of it.

Ruby nodded. "Yeah. I know what he is. I'm not blind. He's a crime lord. But he's also one of the best friends you could ever have."

'Freakshow lover' didn't come close to describing Bejamin Barker.

As his bodyguard kicked the door down, Oswald was greeted by the overwhelming stench of formaldehyde. Coughing and hacking, he removed a delicate silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and held it over his nose. He lurched inside, his ebony cane slapping against the tile floor. The bodyguard remained just outside the door. Looking around caused nausea to build inside Oswald.

Hanging from the ceiling were stuffed alligators, laughing down at them with glazed eyes and open jaws. Large glass containers occupied every one of the hundred shelves upon the walls. A cursory glance revealed...organs. Yellowing eyeballs. Whitish-pink brains covered in greasy film. A pair of bluish lungs still pulsating horribly, as if somehow able to breathe. In larger containers, Oswald was horrified to see, were deformed babies. Some were conjoined twins. Others had too many limbs, like overgrown centipedes. Others had none at all, like giant worms. One baby, he saw, had two sets of eyes, one pair sitting right where the eyebrows would normally be. Strangely enough, all of these infants looked like they were sleeping. Peaceful.

He knew he certainly wasn't. Not right now.

Desperate to get out of here as soon as possible, Oswald raised his voice. "Benjamin Barker!" His voice echoed across the room. For a moment, there was nothing. Oswald's temper ran out like sand in an hourglass. "This is the Penguin, the King of Gotham! If you do not come out now, I shall burn this place to the ground and-"

"WAIT!"

Oswald spun around. A sunburned man with wild, spikey dark hair and thick goggles covering his eyes came clamboring down a ladder. He kept shouting the word, 'wait' with every rung he touched. When he finally reached the ground, his flip-flops slapping against the tiles, he grabbed Oswald by the shoulders and shook him. "Don't burn my babies!" He shouted desperately. "They sleep so well in the cold. No, the heat wouldn't do no good."
Oswald's icy-blue eyes flickered back to the infants in the jars. Shuddered.

He shrugged off the man's filthy hands and straightened. Looked into the man's...goggles. "I shall not harm your 'babies' if you give me what I seek."

"Oh, yeah! I get plenty of that!" Barker grinned. He began pointing at specific items in sight. "I got all kinds of organs, from all kinds of animals...stuffed birds, necklaces made out of teeth, voodoo dolls made from real human skin-"

"I want Fish Mooney." Oswald cut him off.

Barker stopped. Looked back at him with shock. And just...stayed like that. Frozen. Oswald glared at him to no avail. Slowly, Barker reached up and lifted his goggles away from his eyes. They were mismatched in color: one was forest-green while the other was a cloudy gray. Looking at them reminding Oswald of that night under the bridge. A lump formed in his throat. Clearing it, he glanced away.

Barker broke out into a grin. His teeth looked like small planks of rotting wood. "Ah, you're talking about those sublime specimens of evolution. The news has been yapping about it for weeks. I heard your friend is one of them, yes?"

Oswald's jaw tightened. "That is not what-"

"You two have joined together."

Oswald blinked. Then frowned. "What?"

"I can see it." Barker was nodding now, as if in tune to a song only he could hear. "I can see something...peculiar in you. Yet not enough to think you're one of them. But I can see a bit of it."

Oswald sighed. Glancing back at the door, he felt a small kernel of relief. He could see his guard's shadow, and nothing else. And Zsaz hadn't even walked Oswald to the door. Upon seeing a small horde of homeless people, he'd decided to have some fun.

Which meant only Barker would know. Perhaps giving some information first would grant him data in return later.

"Yes." He went on to explain the events of that awful night. Of him storming towards the bus, intent on revenge, and finding an ugly piece of his past come back to haunt him. Ruby defending him, but the bald freak gaining the upper hand and preparing to crush Oswald's head like a melon. And the result.

Barker nodded slowly, rubbing his chin with two sooty fingers. When Oswald finished, he nodded. "Hmm. Yes, I can see that happening. Have you two fused again since that time?"

Oswald glared at him. "My friend just tried to kill herself. I would rather not risk pushing her into such questionable activities."

Barker shrugged. "Have it your way. But I think you should give it another go."

Oswald leaned forward. His eyes narrowed. "And why is that?"

"Because your physical prowess would be combined with hers. It would be like fighting together, but closer." Barker grinned again. "Could come in handy, you know?"

Oswald didn't answer. Scratched the back of his neck.

"Lemme ask you something." Barker requested. "How did it feel when you were mingled?"

Oswald looked away. Studying the dirty tile beneath his well-polished shoe. Barker didn't mind the wait. He began humming to himself, bouncing on his heels, and cleaning his nails with the blunt end of a match. Oswald barely noticed any of this. He was too busy delving into the foggy recollection, which had been locked away by weeks of anger. But now, his brain felt like an egg. Cracked open, with memories leaking out.

He cleared his throat. Barker got the hint and stilled. Oswald frowned pensively, his thin eyebrows knitting together. "It was...strange, to say the least. It felt as though...who I am...who Ruby is...vanished. We became...something new. Someone new. And it felt completely natural." He swallowed. "Like it had been meant to happen."

Barker smiled. It was different from the other ones. Soft. Gentle.

Oswald swallowed. Reached up and traced a finger under his eye. The one that, for just a few minutes, had been Ruby's eye.

"You two could be immensely powerful together." Barker said softly. "And...sorry to ask, but did you experience any...visions after that? Memories?"

Oswald grimaced. "How did you know that?"

"Ah, that's easy." Barker chuckled. Gesturing with his hands, he explains. "From what I can guess, when something like that happened, it's like mixing two paints together. Ya can't separate them afterwards. Not completely. Maybe after some time, the other color fades, but for a while, you hold a little bit of each other."

Oswald nodded slowly. His mind widening like a creaking gate. As it yawned a bit more, it revealed something else. Something that should have been on the forefront the whole time. He turned back to face Barker his defences back up and running. "Alright, Mr. Barker. I answered to your question. Now you must answer mine: where is Fish Mooney?"

"I don't know." Barker shook his head. "Trust me, if someone like her had visited me, I'd have announced it on Twitter."

Oswald scowled. "I'm sure the GCPD would appreciate your facilitating their job." Reaching into his pocket, he extracted a card. Holding it out, he waited until Barker took it before dropping his hand. That card had cost money. Having it fall on this filthy surface would have been laughable. "If she does present herself, contact me. A handsome reward shall await you." He began to turn around when a grimy hand landed on his sleeve.

Oswald glared daggers at Barker, who held up his other hand apologetically. "I, uh, don't want a reward. But, um, I do want somethin'."

The Penguin waited. Biding.

"If ya really do wanna rejoin with this Ruby specimen...if ya wanna fight together...I wanna help."

Oswald quirked a brow. "Nothing is for free in Gotham. State your price, sir."

"I wanna study it." Barker said. "I wanna document the way you fuse, how you fight, and the developments. I promise I won't try any drugs on you or anything." He added quickly upon seeing Oswald's reddening face. Oswald forced himself to calm down. Slowly, he began to nod. The benefits rose like lotuses out of swamp water. He straightened again. "Very well. But if you say one word of this to anyone-"

"I won't." Barker promised. "But, uh, can I just suggest a name for your union?"

Oswald scowled. "It had better be good."

Barker nodded perkily. "It is." He straightened. "Your surname's Cobblepot, and this girl's is Sinclair. So, I recommend," he gestured with his hands, "Cobblair!"