Chapter fifteen

"It's impossible." Madeline announced as they sat in the makeshift lounge room of the Orphanage. Riddler was sat upright in one of those leather bucket chairs, focused as his mind raced with plans and schemes. Waylon was sat on the couch, sprawled out and not contributing much. He seemed to be half asleep. Madeline sat on the arm of the couch, one of Waylon's arms resting behind her so his hand could casually stroke the small of her back every so often. She had a packet of chips and munched them loudly as Riddler grew more and more frustrated with how little they were accomplishing.

"There has to be some way of getting into the facility. How else have they been getting you in and out all this time?" Riddler theorised, throwing his hands in the air. Madeline sighed.

"They knock me out before we leave and knock me out before I get back. I don't know the location and I don't know how to get there." Madeline protested, feeling accused. For all she knew the facility was in another city, or offshore somewhere. They were very good at keeping her knocked out for extended periods of time.

"And even if we did find it." Madeline added. "They have the means to capture us, and then where would we be."

"Do you want to be human again or not?" Riddler snapped, noticeably irritated. "Because all you've been doing is shutting down all my ideas and plans without contributing any yourself." Madeline was a little taken aback by this sudden outburst of protest. She hadn't seen Riddler get this mad before.

"Of course I want to be human again. I just don't want to end up a lab rat again either. I'm just saying we make a really good plan before we do anything." Madeline explained, feeling the need for a lawyer as if she were defending her case in a court of law. Riddler sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he were fighting off a headache. He looked up and glared at Waylon who was lightly snoring. He'd fallen asleep with all the boring talk of strategy and plans.

"Waylon." Riddler hissed, grinding his teeth together. "Wake up." Fearing an outburst from Riddler, Madeline prodded Waylon's leg with her foot to wake him up.

"Waylon!" Riddler snapped again.

"What?" Waylon grumbled, covering his eyes with his hands so the harsh lighting didn't sting his eyes.

"Do you have any sort of contribution to make? Or do you not care one way or the other." Riddler heckled, somewhat sounding like a scorned wife.

"Yeah. But I just do what I'm told. I'm too dumb to make plans or whatever." Waylon explained on a yawn, stretching his arms up and opening his mouth wide to reveal rows and rows of sharp teeth. Madeline hadn't really payed much attention to how he looked, not for a long time at least, but it was strange looking at him now through new eyes. Yeah he'd changed a little since last she saw him, but the difference seemed to be more down to how she was seeing him rather than how he appeared.

When she was human, Waylon was his incredible defiance of nature wrapped up in muscle and danger, and peppered with just a little bit of forbidden fruit. He was this beast, the monster in a fairy tale, and to be poetic she kind of saw herself as that princess who fell in love with him despite his appearance. However, she was not entirely like Belle and did not want her beast to turn into a human when the curse was broken, she wanted him to stay like he was, wild and unpredictable, untameable, unless it was her. She had always groaned with irritation when in the movie Beast turned into the prince and looked so pathetic in comparison.

However, now that she looked at him through new eyes he didn't seem the same. Sure he was still formidable and dangerous, not to mention sexy in his own primal kind of way, but things he once did that Madeline was over cautious of, a growl here and there or a snarl or a snap, didn't seem as noticeable now. They just seemed like things he did and nothing more. It was strange to describe but he almost seemed more human to her now that she wasn't human. Maybe human wasn't the right word to describe it. Normal, or at least normal to her. The way he treated her and the way she treated him, the way they now interacted was totally different. Sure she'd made fun of him some times but now she felt more like she could, and they'd argued before but never had she felt the ability to actually put more ferocity in her arguments. It was almost like up until now she had been eye candy, the latest flame on the arm of the big bad thug. It was the role of the eye candy to be just that, and she knew Waylon didn't see her like that but now that she had this new feeling in comparison, eye candy was the only way she could describe it. The eye candy had to be beautiful and flawless, and totally adore her big bad boy, but the way she felt now was more like an actually girlfriend. To put it plainly, she felt like she could be disgustingly gross around him and he would find it adorable, whereas before she had never felt like that. It was a nice feeling.

"You're not dumb." Madeline protested lightly, flopping down on her back across Waylon's lap. "You figured out it was me in this body." Waylon grinned.

"Yeah, only because of your ass though." He chuckled, putting one of his hands on Madeline's thigh and running it up to caress her hip and supple bottom. Madeline giggled and munched happily on her chips. She offered one to Waylon and snatched it up with his tongue.

"That's very cute and all but can we please stay focused on the task at hand." Riddler interrupted, reminding them both that they were not in the privacy of a bedroom. "Don't you want to become human too Waylon?"

"Wait. You want to become human?" Madeline asked, sitting up and looking concerned. This was the first she was hearing about it. Why? Why did he want to become human?

"Well yeah. I guess." Waylon explained, shrugging his shoulders as if it were no big deal. It was a very big deal. How could he be shrugging his shoulders at such a big, life changing decision as that. He was and had always been reptilian. Sure, the atavism had gotten worse over time and slowly made him less and less recognizable as being born of human parents, and in his early life he had been more human than reptile, but that was so long ago.

"How would that even work?" Madeline asked, looking to Riddler for answers with a concerned expression on her face.

"Well they seemed to be turning you from human to reptile and back again on a frequent basis, and we did observe them return you to human form using a gene deactivation dosage or something like that." Riddler explained, the opportunity to be nerdy and scientific making him a little happier. "The plan was to get a sample of that formula and a sample of what I can only assume is the gene activation dosage so I can create a retrovirus capable of returning Waylon to a human form."

"But he was never human to begin with." Madeline objected, not even thinking about how her words might come across until she saw Waylon frown.

"Why don't you want me to become human?" Waylon asked, sounding concerned for Madeline's loyalty. The concern of betrayal in his tone made Madeline's heart feel heavy and guilt wrapped around it like a spiked tendril.

"I just mean... You've never really been human."

"I know I look like a freak but my parents were human. And I'm still technically human, all be it a genetically fucked up version of one."

He was starting to sound a little pissed off, and he wasn't making eye contact with Madeline anymore. How quickly things had gone from great to rotten, all because Madeline had to protest something as simple and justifiable as wanting to be human.

"I get that... it's just... you've been the way you are for so long I didn't think..."

"Madeline." Waylon interrupted, his tone softening to an almost pleading one. "Don't you want to be together. If I'm human we can be normal together, do normal stuff together, live in Gotham or wherever together and not hide away from the world."

"But would it still be you?" Madeline asked, not quite sure herself on what she meant by that.

"What do you mean?" Waylon asked, genuinely confused.

"I..." Madeline began, but she had no clue how to explain it. "...I don't know."

Waylon sighed rather loudly and with a slight growl behind it. He got up and stalked towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" Riddler asked casually, but even he sounded a little concerned. Probably more for the integrity of his furniture than anything else after a Killer Croc rampage if there was going to be one.

"I need to take a leak." Waylon grumbled, and left the room. Madeline clenched her fist and slammed it on the arm rest of the couch.

"Hey hey hey!" Riddler protested, waving his arms about to stop Madeline. "Don't break my stuff."

"Sorry." Madeline sighed, putting her hands together on her lap so she didn't accidently mess anything else up. "Urgh, I'm such a bitch!"

"Yeah, kind of." Riddler agreed half heartedly. "I know it's none of my business but, why don't you want Waylon to be human?" Madeline bit her lip and cast her eyes down.

"I don't quite know." She confessed, desperately trying to come up with her reasons as to why. Why didn't she want him to be human? Wouldn't that be better for him? Wouldn't he be happier?

"I guess I'm worried that he'll change." Madeline theorized, unsure if she was explaining it right. "That he won't be himself anymore."

"What do you mean?" Riddler asked, sounding intrigued.

"Like... Urgh I don't know how to explain it. Err... what was Waylon like when he first came to Gotham. When he first stepped onto the criminal scene, when he was more humanlike?"

"Well I didn't have much to do with him back then but from what I know he was just hired muscle. He did well in that department because he was big, strong and looked scary."

"But personality wise. How did he act? What vibe did you get from him?" Madeline insisted, slowly coming to realise what she was trying to figure out and how to explain it.

"Cocky." Riddler said flatly. "Arrogant, short tempered and very blood thirsty. I don't follow you though, he's always been like that."

"But what else?" Madeline encouraged. "What was different back then in comparison to now."

"I guess back then he was more sure of himself. He wanted to be a criminal king pin of Gotham and had plans to work his way up. Then he got more and more vicious and started devolving until he ended up like he is now and just wants to be left alone."

"Exactly!" Madeline exclaimed, a little too happily considering what they were talking about. "At some point in time Killer Croc became more than just his stage name, so to speak. He considers Killer Croc to be a separate entity. Almost like another personality, one that acts independently and against his own interests."

"So are you saying Waylon has a personality disorder?" Riddler proposed, raising an eyebrow.

"No, not really." Madeline stuttered, trying to explain. She had it all figured out in her head but no way to get it down into words.

"He was like a stereotypical gang banger thug when he arrived right? Then his more vicious and hostile tendencies branched off into the form of what he recognises as Killer Croc. Kind of like a scapegoat for all the things he's done. His maleficent tendencies are separated into another persona, a more extreme persona than originally, but it's so his more... charming, characteristics can come out when he's not Killer Croc. Do you understand?"

"Kind of." Riddler agreed with a nod. "So your worry is..?"

"I'm worried that without the extreme personality of Killer Croc to keep Waylon, for want of a better word, humble, he'd go back to being a gang banger thug." Madeline theorized, her shoulders slumping in dismay. "And those types of guys, and believe me I know, I've dated them before. Those types of guys don't want girlfriends. They just want hookers, drugs, money and power."

"If he went back to that though, wouldn't that be him returning to his normal behaviour? Returning to how he is meant to be?" Riddler suggested, poking a big hole in Madeline's whole complicated theory.

"I guess so. But I mean... that can't be right. What about his childhood? All those feelings of self loathing and isolation. And when we first met he was like he is now, only looking less reptilian but still the same person."

"God I feel like a shrink." Riddler complained, leaning back in the chair. "I don't know, you need to talk to him about it. I'm tired of playing marriage councillor."

"How do I even broach that subject, it's not like I can just..."

Madeline stopped and stayed silent. Her silence must of startled Riddler because he sat still in fearful anticipation.

"What is it?" He asked, looking around as Madeline stayed very still, listening for the slightest of sounds.

"Where is my brother?" She asked quickly, still listening out.

"I sent him out to buy food since you guys eat so much. He shouldn't be back yet. Why?"

"We're not alone." Madeline said, the feeling of dread growing in her stomach like an acidic pit of darkness, creeping up into her chest. "You need to get out of here."

There was a loud crash as the wooden door burst open, wood splintering everywhere and hordes of militia marching in riot gear, guns at the ready. The windows shattered and more swung in through them. Even the staircase was covered as more flooded down from above. Every entrance and exit was blocked by more and more of these militia, all aiming their guns and tasers on Madeline.

"Edward. Get out of here." Madeline ordered, grabbing the couch and tossing it with all her might at the main door where most of the militia were coming from.

"How?" Riddler asking, panicked as he scanned around for an exit but all were blocked. Madeline thought quickly on what to do. Riddler would defiantly die if the militia opened fire, and she didn't know how good she'd be at defending him. An idea came to mind and she lifted up her foot as high as she could before slamming it down onto the wooden floor. As she had hoped, the floorboards splintered and broke away. She yanked a few up and then pushed Riddler down into the hole. The gaps in-between the floor and ground as well as the gaps between the walls would provide a decent escape route. Besides, the militia were here for her and not Riddler.

"Ma'am, we have subject 3871 in our sights, how do you wish for us to proceed." The commander of the unit announced into his radio.

"Oh no. I'm not coming easy." Madeline snapped, grabbing one of the militia and tossing him against the wall. She hadn't used her newfound strength in a fight yet but was definitely eager to try. She threw the bucket chair at some of the militia and then charged for a large group of them. She knew they wouldn't kill her, they needed her alive. She was their prize test subject and now that she had her sanity back she had to be even more valuable. She charged on all fours, running like a beast in a way that seemed to come naturally to her. She shouldered the militia with a great deal of force, knocking them to the ground and sweeping her tail around, shoving them against the wall with more impact than she had anticipated. This body was very useful.

"Orders are to keep subject alive and conscious." The commander announced loudly, signalling for more militia to move in. They had a strange and heavy gun at their disposal, one that Madeline had never seen before. It looked deadly, but it couldn't be considering what their boss had just said.

"I'm not going back." Madeline snapped, glaring at the commander. "No gun is going to stop me." Madeline charged for the commander who surprisingly tossed his gun aside and raised his arms in defence. Madeline was bigger than him but he was incredibly talented and versatile. He dodged all her attacks and leaped into the air when she tried to knock him over with her tail. Still, Madeline was not a push over and continued the assault. She was still getting used to fighting, even if it did come naturally in this body, and found out quickly that Waylon's fairly vicious and straight forward style of fighting did not suit her. She was faster than he ever was and used that to her advantage. She slashed and kicked with lightening strikes but was amazed that this guy, a mere human, would not be brought down. She sped up the pace, all she needed was one good hit to beat him. He may have been talented, but he wasn't invincible. Soon, she noticed a slow in his movements, his blocks just about coming up in time to save him. Madeline grinned. He was losing. She very quickly ducked to the floor, spun around onto her side and kicked upwards, knocking the commanders helmet off and pouncing on top of him as he fell to the floor. She instinctively went to slash his face off, to end his life, to actually kill someone, but stopped before her claws met his face. His familiar face.

"Jason?" Madeline gasped, her whole body going rigid as she glared down at her neighbour. She didn't know what to say other than to gasp like a fish out of water. This was Jason. The old Robin turned Arkham Knight turned test subject. Why was he here and why was he working for the people that had tortured him?

"Fire!" Jason yelled, and there was a loud bang as the strange weapon fired in Madeline's direction. Madeline was too in shock to move fast enough out of the way and a large metal net wrapped around her, knocking her away from Jason and pinning her to the ground. It was heavy, too heavy for her to escape from.

There was a loud, deafening roar from the other side of the building, growing louder as it approached at an astonishing rate.

"Sir, Subject 2493 is approaching. How do you wish for us to proceed?" One of the soldiers asked, his gun on the open doorway.

"Let him come." Jason said, getting up off the floor and walking over to Madeline. He pulled out a gun and pressed it against Madeline's head.

"Madeline!" Waylon roared, panic in his voice as well as anger and dread. He forced his way into the room but stopped when he saw the situation. All of the militia backed off and stayed as far away from him as physically possible. Waylon seemed to freeze up in place when he saw Madeline with the gun to her head. Jason smirked.

"Let her go or I'll tear you in half." Waylon threatened, calmly but with so much hate in his voice it made Madeline shiver.

"No." Jason said plainly. "Surrender willingly and I won't blow her pretty little brains out."

"He won't kill me!" Madeline blurted out. "They need me, he said so himself." Jason chuckled at Madeline's quick thinking. Waylon was still hesitant to act but it was obvious the idea was in his head.

"You are absolutely right. I won't kill you." Jason said jovially, and then turned his attention back to Waylon. "But you are still going to surrender willingly or..." Jason lowered the gun from Madeline's head to the middle of her back, the cold metal of the gun pressing against her spine.

"I'll paralyse her."

"No!" Waylon protested, clearly very panicked and unsure how to proceed. "I'll surrender." He very quickly put his hands on the back of his head and dropped to his knees.

"Good." Jason said flatly, and then gestured for some of his militia to approach with what looked like a large metal collar.

It had to be the electroshock collar Madeline had heard horror stories about, and her theory was certainly verified when Waylon's face turned pale and his eyes filled with fear upon seeing it.

"No." He whispered, sounding like an alcoholic about to relapse against their own will after such a long time sober. "Not again."

"I won't remove my gun until it's on." Jason threatened, clearly frustrated with the whole ordeal. Waylon gritted his teeth but closed his eyes and allowed the militia to clamp the metal collar around his neck once again. It was painful to watch, and Madeline felt so miserable for him as he was caged and rendered a tool once more.

"Good." Jason said, removing the gun from Madeline's back. Some of the militia came over and dragged the metal net from Madeline.

"Same goes for you sweetheart. Make a move and we fry his brains until they're nothing but mush. You hear me?"

"I hear you, Jason." Madeline hissed, his name like acid on her tongue. She couldn't believe she had considered him a friend.

"Sir." One of the militia said, going up to Jason who was collecting his helmet from the floor. "She's here."

"Good. Positions!" Jason ordered, and the militia formed into neat and orderly lines around the room.

Madeline had never thought the sound of heels could be so terrifying, but that was the sound that sent shivers down her spine. The tapping of heals slowly walking down the hall was more terrifying than any creaky door in a horror house or the haunting whistle of the wind through a crack in the window. As it drew closer and closer the sense of fear and dread grew heavy in the air, weighing down heavier on Madeline's shoulders until finally, she felt like the metal net would be a relief. Then, she emerged, the mastermind behind the facility that had turned Madeline into the creature she had become, the ones who brought her back from the dead.

"You." Madeline hissed, the hatred boiling her blood at 1000°C. It was the woman in the hazmat suit, only now she was in a formal black pinstripe suit, white blouse and black tie. She was an older woman as Madeline had expected, with greyish blond hair in a very 50s short style. She was glamorous to say the least, and very intimidating.

"Hello Madeline." She said, almost sounding like a giddy high school girl which was very confusing. "It's so nice to talk to you face to face and not have you trying to kill me."

"Don't worry. The desire to do so is still there." Madeline hissed. She so wanted to lunge for the woman and rip her throat out with her teeth like a savage animal. There was nothing restraining her from doing so and none of the militia could react in time to save their boss. Only there was something restraining her. Waylon, and that shock collar around his neck kept her in place and obedient.

"Good. I wouldn't have it any other way." The woman said cheerfully, her eyes practically gleaming. It was like she was high or something.

"How did you find us?" Waylon growled weakly, the emotional drain from having the electric collar put back on showing through. He must have been using every ounce of his willpower to not lose control.

"A simple little trick." The woman said as one of the militia approached with something in his hand. The woman took it and held it up. It appeared to be a green tie. One of Riddler's? The woman pulled out a small little microchip with a red light on it from under the tie, near the knot that Riddler hadn't undone when he'd taken it off. It was a tracker.

"You all did very well in acting according to my plan." She beamed, tossing the tie aside and pocketing the chip. "All so predictable. Well done."

"You bitch!" Madeline snapped, having to use all of her strength to keep her feet grounded and not kill the woman where she stood.

"Tsk tsk tsk. That's no way to speak to your new boss." The woman scolded, confusing Madeline even more.

"I would never work for you, no matter what you threatened to do to me." Madeline hissed, spitting a little with her words to make some kind of attempt at hurting the woman.

"Oh but you will. You will do exactly as I say without question." The woman said, sauntering forward until she was practically stood face to face with Madeline. "Or else. Boom!"

Madeline grinned, and then laughed, loudly and heartily. For once this woman didn't have the upper hand.

"You think you can threaten me with that bomb in my neck. Ha! Guess what lady, we diffused it when they shocked my sanity back into me." Madeline boasted. She was expecting for the woman to turn pale with dread or red with anger. To look upset or worried, or irritated at the very least. But out of all the reactions to have, she chose laughter. It was a worrying laughter. The laughter of triumph.

"Oh honey." She chuckled, practically tearing up it was so amusing. "I'm not threatening you with the bomb in your neck."

"You're not?"

"No. I'm threatening you with the bomb in his neck." The woman said, gesturing towards Waylon.

"What!" Waylon snapped, looking even more panicked but reinvigorated with newfound anger.

"Oh darling. You didn't think I'd have you coming in and out of my facilities again and again without a little insurance do you?" The woman chuckled, and then tapped her own neck. "Iron Heights baby." Before acknowledging Waylon's rage at her the woman turned her attention back to Madeline.

"It is detonated by a certain code, a code that only I know. And it can't be diffused by electricity or removed via surgery."

They were screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. There was no way out of this. Would there ever be a way out of this. The woman seemed to have every basis covered, every possible approach thought out and planned for. It seemed like she knew what was going to happen when, where and how. It was like she had omnipotence or something.

"We'll talk more about it when we get you back to base. That was where you wanted to go right? To get some of the gene activation and deactivation dosages to retro engineer a cure for Waylon's atavism, right?" The woman said with a smirk. She knew so much about everything, but to make matters worse, as they loaded Waylon into the van outside the orphanage and put Madeline in a separate one, the woman wouldn't stop humming the Hush Little Baby tune.

Oh no, they've been captured again. At least this time they're together. I wonder what job the woman has in store for them?