Chapter 38

Music played softly, cattish and seductive. Exactly Barbara's style, down to a T. She had put it on half an hour ago in the hopes of withdrawing inspiration from it, to no avail. Even sitting in her favorite chair in the bar hadn't helped stir things up. The waste basket filled with crumpled paper balls could testify.

Barbara ran a hand through her silky hair. Groaning. The letter beneath her hand was coming out even worse than she'd thought. Tempted to rip it up and start over again, she paused. Considered the contents she intended to put there.

Six months had passed since Ruby Sinclair had tried to end her life. Six months since that rainy day, as though the heavens themselves had wept. Six months, and Barbara could still see the scene clear as day. Oswald and Ruby stepping out, his coat resting around her shoulders, walking towards the ambulance. The look he'd shot her, Tabitha, and Butch had been cold enough to freeze their limbs off. Ruby hadn't even noticed them. A small blessing. If she'd looked them in the eye, her gaze would have been torture to endure. 'You did this to me'.

Barbara knew that. Deep down, beneath her sassy, confident attitude, she'd been living with that guilt every day. Tabitha knew it, and though they scarcely discussed it, she had been there to pick Barbara up when torment had knocked her down.

But that still wasn't enough. As much as she wanted to, Barbara couldn't just bury that day and pretend it had never happened. The truth of the matter was, she'd nearly driven someone to suicide. Normally, death just bounced off her. Barbara had lost count of the number of thugs and lowlifes she and Tabby had killed, merely for fun. But this felt...different. It wasn't a rapid stab wound that killed someone in about a minute. This had been a slow, anguishing treatment that she'd commenced behind a screen. All to convince people to her cause.

She'd gotten what she'd wanted, true, but the cost had felt too rotten to consider.

What startled Barbara was that Ruby had never sought vengeance. She'd never sent Oswald, or any of his goons, to beat Barbara up or burn down her club. She'd never sent her anything vile in the mail, never tattled to the police, never even drained her bank account.

Nothing but silence. Perhaps that was what unnerved Barbara the most. Waiting. Wondering why Ruby wouldn't deliver the second blow when Barbara was right in her sights. Was Barbara really worth so little as a target?

Either way, this silence risked driving Barbara mad. Hence the mess of paper and ink around her.

Barbara couldn't apologize to Ruby in person. Apologies had never been her strong point. Once, as a child, she'd become convinced that one of the servant girls had stolen one of her necklaces. Ten-year-old Barbara had ordered her father's bodyguard to beat the teenage maid until the poor soul lost an eye. In the end, they'd discovered that she'd never stolen anything; Barbara had simply misplaced it. No apology had left her lips.

Barbara was determined to act differently. True, she had no intention of directly confronting the former maid. But she still wanted her to know how she felt. Hence, the letter. Safe. Easy.

But nothing came out the way it was supposed to.

Sighing, Barbara took a sip from her martini.

That was when the door opened with a groan. A group of men walked in with an air of dominance, all expensive suits and tough expressions. Barbara glanced dully in their direction before resuming her letter. The men kept coming closer. Sharp scents of cologne and sweat swarmed her nostrils like fog. One man, the shortest of the bunch, rested his hand on the glass counter. "You Barbara Kean?"

"We're closed."

One of the thugs swept his arm. Bottles of vodka crashed to the floor.

Sighing, Barbara set the pen down and looked at the head honcho. "What?" She asked petulantly.

The guy, bald and possibly middle-aged, eyed her with contempt. "You built this club on our territory. We let you 'cause we heard Penguin had your back. And now we hear that ain't so!"

Another consequence to her actions. Oswald had withdrawn all support to the Sirens the day after Ruby checked into the hospital. Barbara hadn't cared then, and she didn't care now.

Calmly, she drank from her martini.

"Bad for you," the guy said, "good for us."

Barbara set the drink down with a sigh. "Get the hell out." She ordered brightly.

In response, the man smacked her across the face. Barbara clutched her burning cheek. Gasped heavily. "This place is ours now, do you understand?" The man growled.

Barbara's eyes teared up. "You can't just come in here-"

The guy raised his fist again. Barbara flinched. "D-don't hit me, okay? Please!" Yet even as he watched, even as high heels closed in, Barbara's whimpers evolved into laughter.

She cackled as the men, save for the boss, crashed to their knees. Their throats were slashed open, blood spilling like new wine. When the boss reached for his gun, his eyes on Tabitha, Barbara swiped it out of his hand. Swung it across his face. Then, even after he'd hit the floor, she hit him a few more times. Cackling with delight.

Ruby stood outside Arkham's rusting gates, wishing to be anywhere else on Earth.

An icy wind jabbed at her exposed neck. She quickly tightened her coat's collar. Shivering madly, she stared up at the building that had been her home and her prison for an entire year. A weird lump formed in her throat. Pushing some curls out of her eyes, she found herself going back in time. She remembered the first time she'd ever left the house at age seventeen. Before then, aside from the occasional late-night cinema, her world had been made up of four walls, a small window that she was forbidden to look through during the day, and countless maids who served her meals. Each one would come in blindfolded so as not to see the hideous freakshow their gorgeous employers had created.

Ruby remembered that life all too well. She would never be allowed to leave her room; they had even installed a bathroom to keep her from complaining. Not only that, she was forbidden from making noise. Especially when guests were present, which was very often. As she'd gotten older, she would kick up a fuss just for a bit of attention. The only result were two days without food. The only sources of entertainment that came her way were books, her mother's jewelry that she was meant to polish, and an old dart board. Ruby especially enjoyed the last one when she taped her mother's face to it.

When she'd left the house to go to Arkham, Ruby's parents had pulled a sack over her head and bound her wrists together. And yet, she'd felt free. Free to feel sunlight on her swollen flesh and the breeze on her face through the fibres. Small freedoms, but freedoms nevertheless.

Arkham, for all of its hardships, hadn't been that awful either. Until the experiments had begun.

Before that, Ruby had been treated with neautrality rather than loathing and distaste. Sure, Ms. Peabody and all the orderlies had been disgusted by her. Who wouldn't have been? But they had still treated her decently, probably thanks to the money that her parents had paid. Nevertheless, it had been a welcomed change. The patients, too, had been too caught up in their own worlds to recognize her deformities. They had treated her as if she'd been...normal. Something that Ruby hadn't known she could be.

Then, the experiments had unfolded. They had been agonizing and terrifying in their mystery. No explanations had been given, no heads-up to the side effects. One injection had caused Ruby to vomit so much that they'd had to rehydrate her with an I.V. Another had made her bleed pus for a week. But in the end, Strange had kept his word and given her a stable condition.

Not normal, but stable. Which was more than Ruby had ever hoped for. Yet when Strange had offered to tell her parents the great news, she'd declined.

Arkham had been a necessary step forward for her. Yet every time she looked at these gates, Ruby couldn't forget that her parents has walked through them without turning back.

Her vision had just gotten blurry when there came a familiar noise. Feet crunching the gravel, accompanied by the regular pic, pic, pic of a walking stick. Thinking quickly, Ruby wiped her eyes with her sleeve. The gates yawned with a deafening screech. Emerging from the intricate metal jaws was a beaming, straight-shoulders Oswald. Ruby's heart lifted at the sight. "Hey!" The two met with a tight hug. "Thank you so much for coming." He whispered in her ear.

Shivering, she tightened her hold on him. "Anytime, Oz. It beat discussing the benefits of vegetarianism with Butch again." She rolled her eyes as Oswald chuckled. Once they pulled away, she smiled and touched his face. "You look like you had a good time."

"Oh, absolutely." Oswald offered her his arm. She took it. Turning their backs to the decrepit madhouse, they approached the path. Another powerful wind played with their hair and chilled their faces. Without thinking they scooted closer to each other. Oswald had a satisfied look in his eyes that Ruby welcomed after all of the stress provided by Fish. "Edward truly remains the genius I once knew. Arkham has not broken him. And it never will." Oswald smiled proudly before turning to Ruby. The way he looked at her made her insides turn to putty. "The same goes for you. Arkham, I think, has made you stronger; and not merely because of the obvious, biological elements."

Ruby smiled softly. Rested her head on his shoulder. A difficult feat given her superior height. "I feel the same way about you, champ." Raising her head again, she looked into his eyes. "I've literally shared a mind with you, and I can confirm you're the strongest person I've ever met." Oswald didn't say anything. Just stared at her. Then, very gently, he placed his hand on the back of her head. Then, he pulled it forward until their foreheads were touching. Blushing wildly, Ruby smiled shyly and let him. Trying to control her heartbeat all the while.

They stayed like that for a moment, their warm skins touching and their misty breaths caressing each other's cheeks.

Remember this moment, she told herself.

Then, the ferryboat's whistle rumbled the cold air. The spell broke. Oswald and Ruby pulled apart - though not by much - and saw their trepidation come to life. The small, dingy vessel was already inching away from the port, its sailors undoing the soggy ropes and tossing them aboard.

The friends shared a single look.

Five minutes later, the last sailor was dumping the last of the ropes onto the deck. The captain rolled down the window and called down, "So, we ready to go?"

"Yessir!" The sailor yelled. "We should be in Gotham in about an hour and-" A heavy hand clamped on his shoulder. He froze. Slowly turned around. A tall figure peered down at him with hostile amusement. It was neither male nor female. Rather, it exhibited characteristics of both. A beak-like nose protruded from a round, chinless face. Curly black hair billowing in the damp wind. Mismatched eyes - one icy-blue, the other indigo - twinkled with mischief. But what truly frightened the sailor was the person's right hand: where fingers should have been, there were five-inch blades sharp enough to cut reality in two.

The person grinned. "Aw, we know you weren't going to leave without us. Riiiiight?" The tips of those knife-fingers lightly tapped the sailor's throat. That was when he felt his bladder loosen, and his pants go hot. The figure noticed as well, which only made it - them? - smile with glee. "Oh, the message came through! Great!" Without another word they pushed past the terrified sailor. Hopped over the widening gap of churning water. Then, once on deck, the figure began to glow. The sailor shielded his eyes from the sun-like glare. When it ended a few seconds later, the sailor looked to see two people making their way inside they like owned the boat. The sailor stared after them with a dropped jaw. The ferry was too far away now to be able to jump aboard. But that was fine. All of a sudden, the sailor didn't want to be on it. He'd wait for the next one. Or sleep on a park bench tonight. Whichever option felt better.

Oswald and Ruby were still laughing about it as they sat at one of the vacant tables, paper cups of coffee warming their hands. "Did you see his face?" Ruby chuckled.

"Yes!" Oswald pointed to his eye. "Well, half-see, anyway." This triggered more laughter.

"He actually wet himself? Dear God." Ruby hid her smile behind her hand. "And here I thought the Master was easy to scare?"

"Oh, was he?" Oswald asked curiously. He rested his cheek on his fist. Ruby nodded, raking a hand through her pixie cut. "Yeah. He couldn't stand any type of horror. Even the really cheap kind. Especially gore, he hated it." Ruby took a sip from her coffee and grimaced at the powdery taste. "I learned that the hard way."

Oswald quirked a brow. "Oh? Do I sense an embarressing story coming up?"

"Yes indeed." Ruby sniggered. "One night, for a treat, I rented the movie 'Fright Night'. He got so scared he literally threw up all over the carpet." She shook her head. "Took me two days and three bucketfuls to shampoo it thoroughly. Grace's two brats spent those days throwing peanuts at me. Jerks."

Oswald rolled his eyes. "Sounds familiar." He took a drink of his coffee. Without a second's hesitation he turned his head and spat it out. Then, as an afterthought, squeezed the cup through the thin space between the window's glass and frame. With a faint splash and a spray it was gone. He turned back to Ruby. "My mother was the same in all honesty. Anything concerning danger and horror simply terrified her. I remember, as a teen, I showed her one of my favorite films-"

"'The Godfather'." Ruby piped up.

Oswald nodded. "'The Godfather'. She got so upset when the horse's head entered the frame that I had to turn it off and make her some tea." He shook his head. "I quickly gave up after that."

Ruby nodded in understanding as a question blossomed in her skull. She hesitated, hoping to word it correctly. As she stalled, she followed Oswald's lead in looking around. The ferry's interior was warmer than the outside, but not by much. The ceiling and walls had seen better days, and the windows were so caked in dried sea salt that theirs resembled frosted glass. The floorboards were dark with years' worth of accumulated filth. If one inhaled too deeply, they could smell fish guts. There was only a handful of other passengers. Visitors of Arkham Asylum, most likely. There was nothing else on that small, miserable island worth visiting.

The boat gently rocked from side to side, cradled by the river's waves. It was a comforting feeling. One that gave Ruby strength.

"Um...Oz?"

"Hm?" He looked back at her with alert, shining eyes.

Ruby tucked a lock behind her ear. Fiddled with the malachite earring hanging from her lobe. "Why...did you become a criminal?"

Oswald looked surprised. Ruby quickly continued to avoid any misunderstandings. "I mean, by all means, this is Gotham. I get it. But..." she sighed. "You're worth so much more than the lowlife scum you rule over. If you'd wanted to, you could've become anything you wanted. A gentleman. A gallery owner, given your love for art. Hell, maybe even president!" She scoffed. "After our current one, you'd win the following election by a landslide."

Oswald scratched his head. His eyes clouded with thought. Then, he reached out across the wooden table. Ruby understood. She did the same. Their hands interlocked. He gave her the shadow of a smile. "I am touched that you think so highly of me, especially when you have seen all of my filthy secrets. And maybe you're right. Maybe I could have applied myself to a different, more legal field and excelled. But you know what?" He shook his head, biting his lip. "I did not want any other field. I wanted this one, and I still do."

Ruby didn't speak. Just listened.

Oswald went on. "Throughout my life, I have always been abused and picked on by those with greater power. Bullies, bosses, men my mother dated..." He shuddered at the last one. "And I never fought back. My mother always gave me the same advice: ignore them, and they will eventually stop. This, of course, is incorrect. Bullies don't stop. Even if they do, then they will simply be replaced by those with greater patience."

Ruby nodded to show that she was listening.

Further encouraged, Oswald continued. "That is why I wanted to become a criminal. Not merely a criminal, but the criminal. The one who held absolute power over the city, the one who could bribe the police and destroy any rival. I wanted to show them all exactly whom they had been messing with, and how wrong they had been at doing so." He licked his lips. Seemingly exhausted by this telling. "I wanted to be the best."

Ruby blinked slowly at him. Then, she did something that shocked both of them. But after a second's contemplation, she found that she didn't care. Carefully, she lifted their intertwined hands towards her face. Oswald watched with wide eyes as Ruby gently kissed the back of his hand. It was incredibly light, barely there, and barely lasted more than a second. Face burning, Ruby lowered their hands. She looked into his eyes, lest she lose her footing. "You don't need to want it." She stated. "You already are."

Oswald's eyes widened further. His shocked expression melted into one of quiet joy. He covered the back of Ruby's hand with his free one. Warming it. "Thank you." He whispered. There was so much meaning in those two simple words. Ruby was close to tearing up again when Oswald's breast pocket began to buzz. "What in the..." Frowning down at it, he undid the zipper and extracted his phone. When he saw the name, his entire body seemed to sigh. "Oh, wonderful."

"Who is it?"

"Butch. That stupid ape." Oswald shook his head. "He tells me that the Sirens are encountering business dilemmas with the gangs of that neighborhood."

Ruby groaned. "Oh my God, here we go."

"My words exactly." Oswald muttered. "But, I fear duty calls. Otherwise, Barbara may use my reluctance to help as ammunition against me later. Perhaps convince some of my followers that I am not a diligent leader, and the like." He sighed. Looked first out the window, then at the clock. "How long until this bloody boat reaches the port?"

Ruby suddenly brightened. Then grinned. "Who says we have to stay here?"

Oswald immediately caught on. "Who, indeed?" Rising, he held out his hand to her. Ruby took it. Taking care not to attract any stares, they made their way on the deck. A minute later, there was a bright halo just beyond the door.

Then, there came the flapping of wings. They grew distant. Faded. Into silence.