20 reviews! :D Thank you everyone!

4SeasonsChick, so true, Zsasz just doesn't quit, does he?

Scarecrow owns Batman. There I said it, please don't gas me! AHHHHH!

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Redemption, Restitution, & Resurrection

-Chapter Fourteen: CAPTIVATED-

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The line crackled. Zsasz must be in a place with poor reception. Danielle was frozen, nails biting the wood of the coffee table, as she stared blankly in front of her. Zsasz's words reverberated in her ears.

"You have three of my friends?"

"I can hear the fright in your voice," the madman cooed. "How delectable, Danielle! How does it feel to know I am holding your life's meaning in my hands?"

Pieces of glass littering the floor, a thousand shards of a window once whole.

"You have no… concept… of how difficult it is to not liberate these zombies right here and now," he chortled, and Danielle cringed. "I can barely contain myself! Your best friend is drawing ever nearer to receiving her permanent salvation…" His voice grew higher, "And as I look into her eyes, I can almost feel my blade slip across her flesh as her body pours red and her life fades." She could imagine Cindy's terror; there was a horrifyingly good chance that Zsasz was staring into Cindy's eyes this very minute, making his macabre promises. The girl's stomach twisted. "Where should I pose her, Danielle? Where should I make her mark? Would you like it next to yours, on my heart?"

She was totally helpless to stop him. All she could do was sit here and LISTEN to him threaten her friends. Never mind the bad dreams - this was truly her worst nightmare.

"Or perhaps I should liberate this old woman first. She hasn't got long for the world anyway, has she, at her…advanced age. I could pose her at her desk in the hospital lobby, cold dead fingers just…typing away."

His words made all too much sense. "Mrs. Phillips… You have her too." She felt sick all over imagining Zsasz harming the fragile old secretary. She strained hard to hear her friends' voices, any sign that they weren't already dead. Nothing. Nothing except for Zsasz's raspy breathing. "Who else do you have?" She braced herself, knowing that no matter who it was, the answer would be horrible.

"I'll give you a little hint, Dani dearest. It's one of your students."

Oh no, oh no, no no no. Scott? Theodore? Monica? Cecil? Who? God, not another one!

"Take me in their place."

"So it's your precious student you wish to save?"

"Please, let all of them go. You can have me instead. You don't have to hurt them. Please."

"Don't be so impatient…!" he sounded amused. "That's my little weakness. And I'll have you too eventually…more than I already do…"

"You don't have to do this."

"You should have thought about that before you walked away, Danielle, and again when you hung up on me! You should have known someone would pay for your rudeness! Did you really think you could make a fool of me?! You have...ignored me for the last time, Danielle."

The sudden sharp anger in his voice terrified her. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that would prevent him from slaughtering all three of her friends if he were to lose his temper right now.

"I'm sorry, Zsasz. I didn't mean to ignore you. I—I haven't been myself lately."

"I noticed. You've been turning into more of a zombie lately."

"There's a reason for it…! I found out the person who wrote the notes."

"The secret admirer?" He paused. "Who was it?"

"It was Scarecrow!"

"Scarecrow? Ohohohoho! You expect me to believe that?"

"He was here in my house! He just tried to kill me! He gassed me up and—"

"If Scarecrow poisoned you, then why aren't you dead, Danielle?"

Because Batman saved me. "I don't know."

"I think you are lying to me. In fact, I think you've been lying to me about a great number of things. Why would you do that, when I am so close to liberating you from your precious people?"

"Please don't hurt them! Just tell me where you are and-"

"Why don't you beg me a little more, Danielle? The way you used to beg for Matthew's life to be spared. You remember precious, vacuous Matthew Summers, don't you? I wonder, is one of these piggies your new boytoy, Danielle?"

What is he talking about?! "I don't have a boyfriend! I haven't since—since—"

"Really?" he asked icily. "What if I were to ask this fine young man here? Piggy, what's your name?" SLAM! "Tell me your name!"

Sobbing. "Theodore. My name's Theodore!" So that's who he got. My best student. Her heart sank.

"That wasn't hard."

"Ms. Danielle," in spite of his predicament, the shy young man tried to yell into the phone, "Don't trade yourself! He's got knives, he's—"

"I think that's more than enough information, don't you?" There was a fumble as Zsasz turned away abruptly, leaving his captive in tears. "Now, tell me something, Danielle! This Theodore? Who is he to you?"

"He's my student, Zsasz."

"Really? Then why did I see you hugging him in the secluded courtyard in the hospital?!"

She blanched. "You were there?"

"Of course. Oh, don't sound so guilty, darling!"

"If you were there… then you would have seen me hugging all of my students." Her skin prickled. If he had seen her whole class, then that meant every single one of them was at risk again. After everything Scarecrow had put them through, now Zsasz was a threat to them.

"I did see you hug the others. But this one lingered. Don't tell me you're not involved with him, not with that level of intimacy. I don't hardly believe you've hugged even me for that long!"

Oh my God… Zsasz is jealous of Theodore. He doesn't want anyone getting close to me, because he's a controlling bastard and... Her breath left her lungs ...And because he still thinks he has a claim over me, after everything. Because we slept together… because we connected… Because he marked me!

Her student was in terrible danger right now, the worst danger of the three. I'm so sorry, Theodore.

"Theodore had convinced everyone to come back to classes, Zsasz. They were scared because of what Scarecrow had done to Greta, and he got them all together to ask me to keep teaching after I cancelled the lessons. I was thanking him for not letting us give up."

"The boy was red as a tomato, Danielle. He still is now!" He tried to laugh, but a bitter sound came out instead. "I can guarantee, you might not have any feelings for him, but he most certainly has them for you! You should know something about me, Danielle. I don't share. Do not choose to save him; I won't let you!"

"For God's sake, Zsasz, he's not my boyfriend! I haven't been with anyone since you!" She clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Really? You mean in all of this time, you have been with no one else? Or are you just saying that you let some pig use you for a night—"

"No one has touched me since you, Zsasz!" Her face burned at her own admission, and at the vivid memories that came up suddenly. She closed her eyes, glad Zsasz couldn't see her now. If he could...

"I don't believe you. I can hear the hesitation in your voice. I remember the way you felt against me, hungry, the way you couldn't get enough. It's been what kept me going for the past three years. Believe me, I have a very good memory of our time together… All the glorious little marks on your body that I touched, one by one." As he spoke, she could almost feel his finger ghosting across her scars. She bit her lip. "You mean to say you went without that marvelous sensation willingly for all this time? Somehow pure of heart to only me?"

"Please, Zsasz! Let's not- Let's not talk about this over the phone-"

"They cannot hear us, Danielle. They are in the other room. Though I don't see how it matters if they do hear us… since only one of them will be alive to repeat it. Or is it that you don't want others listening in on our pillow talk, my Alive Girl? I could save it for the bedroom if you wish..."

"Please-"

"Oho! I understand what's going on now…" Zsasz's voice became sly. "Could it be that you're keeping secrets from your dear friends, Dani dearest? Could it be that you never told a soul about our great romance, once upon a time?"

How could she? No one would understand. Even she couldn't.

"You never told anyone about our time together, our shared sacred understanding of life, did you? And that is why the silly boy believes he has a chance." He chuckled. "Are you so ashamed of what we are together, Danielle? Or are you afraid of showing them your true self?"

"They know my—"

"No," he sighed. "No they don't. No one knows you the way I do. I made you." He sounded so calm suddenly. So assured… He was back in control again, for now. "You liked fighting me on that bridge, just as you liked it when I took you to bed and marked you. Don't deny it. You are violent and unpredictable, just like me."

"No, I'm—"

"I would be careful disagreeing with me too much, Danielle! I don't know if you care that I hold your piggies' lives in my hands! Now… what are you like again?"

"I'm—"

"You are violent and unpredictable."

"I… am violent and unpredictable."

"Just like me."

"…Just… like… you," she whispered.

"Very good. You see, you made a mistake in looking for meaning in your friends. They have diluted your true self, turned you into a zombie. You will see. I will free you once again."

She choked on her words. "You're going to kill them so I'll be alone again."

"It worked for me. When my parents died, it was not intentional. And yet their deaths ultimately led to my greater understanding of life. Your friends have weakened you, Danielle… Why else would you have forgotten me over the last three years?!" His anger was back in full force and it terrified her. She could imagine him gesticulating with his knife, closer and closer to stabbing them-

"I- I didn't- I couldn't-"

"You never asked! You never cared! When I came back, you just… walked away. Just like that. As if I didn't matter… as if what we had never existed."

He was right. She lowered her head shamefully even though he couldn't see it. She had spent months trying to convince herself that none of it was real. Those shameful memories of finding comfort in the arms of a murderer… Every conversation they had, burned into her… She had tried so hard to make herself believe that her feelings for him were the result of Stockholm's Syndrome, and that his feelings were a silly infatuation combined with a lust for power. The denial hadn't worked, of course: she could never deny that they had some sort of connection. But she thought it was over. It had to be over.

She took a deep breath before she confessed: "I never stopped thinking about you, Zsasz. I've thought about you every single day you've been gone." She smiled bitterly. "You've never really gone away." She had told him this on the night they had first reunited, when she realized that his marks were gone - but it was different now. It was more than her survivor's guilt she was admitting to now.

As much as Zsasz wanted to, he couldn't deny the truthfulness in her voice. "Then why, Danielle? Why did you never search for me?"

"You were dead, Zsasz."

"Obviously I wasn't! You never recovered my body. Why did you give up and assume I was gone?"

"You didn't come back until-"

"Until two weeks ago. Have you ever… wondered, Danielle… what I was doing these past three years? Where I was? How many people I killed during that time? Why don't you ask me? Show a little interest in my life!"

"You- You were hearing voices." She spoke quietly. "When I ran into you, you didn't remember your marks. Zsasz… something bad happened to you, didn't it?"

"And what if it did?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "Tell me."

"No. No, I think we've delayed long enough, don't you? And your piggies have been waiting so patiently, ahahahahaaa! Here's the game… Your three friends are a short cut away from leaving their mundane existences and floating into oblivion. Two of them will, no matter what. You just have to choose which one to save. I will give you only a short time to decide, and then I will call you back."

"But—"

"If you take too long to choose, then I will kill all three of the piggies. And don't try to get out of it by not answering my phone! We'll see how long your answering machine can capture the moments of them dying. You can listen to it over and over again for the rest of your life! Goodb-"

"Wait! Please, wait."

"What is it?"

"Please let me talk to them!"

"Let you—Do I look stupid?"

"Please… I just want to hear that they're all alive. That's it."

"Very well. Though I won't let you talk to Theodore, I think you've had more than enough time with him today. So you know, if you choose him to save, he'll die anyway. He cannot have you."

"He's not my—"

"Here's piggy number two…"

"My dear!"

"Mrs. Phillips, are you alright?"

"I'm-" There was a rustling sound.

"She put up a valiant effort to free the other two in exchange for her own life. Very valiant indeed. Should I let her, Danielle?"

"Please." Danielle's throat was thick. "Please let me talk to Cindy."

"Very well."

"Dani…" A soft voice.

"Cindy! Oh God, I'm so sorry-"

"Listen, Dani, don't be hasty with your decision. Take time to mill it over, I mean mull—"

"And that's all the time we have left!" Zsasz cackled. "Talk to you very soon, my Alive Girl. Ring ring..." he whispered, and the phone clicked off as he hung up.

It was marvelous. The fear in her voice! He surely had her attention now.

Zsasz smiled at the hostages across the room. They were in large cages, rusting bars making reddish streaks against their clothes. Like blood. Soon his knife would bathe. He laughed softly to himself, and two of the hostages flinched.

"Which of you will she save?" he mused softly to himself. He took out a knife and idly swiped at the bars of the nearest cage. "Hahahahahaaaa…"

The zombie in the cage adjusted his broken glasses nervously. Zsasz fought a snarl. He would die first. He would make sure Danielle heard it.

She would be alone again. Two of her friends would die, and the survivor would be forced to watch. Watch as he brutally liberated the other two, their screams echoing in this dank dungeon of a room, their blood pooling on the floor… Oh, it was really a gift he was giving to his Alive Girl. They burdened her! And she could not see it! With this, she would become a recluse again. Yes. She would be his again before long.

His hand itched impatiently. Absently, he raised a hand to scratch his chest. New tally marks covered it now, but they weren't finished scarring. He needed to pick the scabs, make the scars deeper. The ones on his forehead itched the most.

He had a much darker plan, of course. As extra insurance, he would be sure to make the liberations extra traumatizing for the survivor. He might even leave the survivor with a few…mementos of their time together. The survivor was sure to hate Danielle for putting them in this predicament. They would abandon her. The bonds among these miserable people and Danielle were no doubt strong, but… even the strongest of bonds could be cut apart!

Zsasz sighed.

The hostages noticed how giddy he seemed, rather like a schoolboy as he paced, hands twitching, the knife occasionally glinting between his fingers but just as often the way he picked at his scars, pulling the scabs, running his hand over his bald head. He laughed softly to himself, then paused to rub his face. Was he psyching himself up for the kill… or for something else? The hostages hated to wonder. The could hear his mumbles, though it was clear he was only talking to himself:

"I wonder what she will do now. How she will make the choice."

He could see her now. She was fretting over the phone, running her hands through her long hair, agonizing over which worthless person she would save. Why did she bother? She would be alone after this. There was no way the survivor would want to even associate with her after their ordeal–

"Are you the guy who's been trying to shut down our classes?"

The meek voice belonged to Danielle's precious student. Mid-20s, brown hair ridiculously parted, skinny and weak. Yes, Theodore. The one who he saw Danielle hugging in the courtyard in the hospital, telltale blush on the zombie's face! He still couldn't believe it. Brave, pathetic Theodore thought he could gain Danielle's affections and steal her away from him, did he?!

"Shut UP!" he gritted at the annoying hostage.

"Why? Why would you want to do that? What have we done to you?"

Zsasz approached the piggy's cage, muscles twitching, his arm coiled and ready to spring—

"I don't believe it was Mr. Zsasz." It was Mrs. Phillips who spoke, and while her words were composed, her voice shook horribly. "It was Scarecrow."

Zsasz sneered. "And what would give you that idea, old woman?"

"He killed my friend many years ago. She was the original self-defense teacher. He sent her notes too before she died."

Zsasz turned, and the old woman trembled with fear at the look in his eyes. "If the Scarecrow was after Danielle all this time…" he said with deceptive calm, as he strode toward her menacingly, "Then. Why. Didn't. You. Warn Her?!"

"I didn't know about the notes until recently! And then the classes were shut down, so I thought… Good lord! He's with her right now, isn't he?"

"Since you're in here with me instead of out there rescuing her, I don't hardly think that's any of your business—" He swiped at the bars with his knife. "Old woman!"

"Hey! Don't attack her that way!"

Zsasz laughed chillingly. "You have far more important things to worry about, little piggy. You are soon to receive my gift, no matter if Danielle chooses you to save-"

"Enough! There is no need for games. Let the children go. You can keep me. But let them go."

"Oh, but we can't decide!" Zsasz neared her cage again, and in spite of her bravery, the old woman shrank back. "It is Danielle's decision! She must decide which one of you she will save…and which two of you I will save!"

"Hey, what's up with all your scars, anyway?"

Zsasz turned, furious at another interruption, and was brought up short. Danielle's best friend was sitting up in her cell with an impassive look. She leaned against the bars, almost casually, but her eyes were focused on him with unnerving scrutiny. Oh, he remembered her. The little coworker from Danielle's old job – the one who noticed that things weren't quite right with Danielle, back when he was first… pursuing her. That's right. He didn't like this one. She was too smart for her own good.

Nevertheless, he approached her cage with a slight swagger. He'd break her soon enough.

"Cynthia Ornette Gibson… Danielle's precious best friend, but for how much longer?" he smiled creepily. "These are my… tally marks," he indicated the healed ones along his arm. "Each one represents a person who has been freed from their mortal coil, who has been… liberated… by yours truly. And soon two of you will be added to my count. Would you like to see—"

"So when you kill someone, you stab yourself so you can remember them?" Cindy raised an eyebrow. "You should try Christmas cards, at least then you're sure to get something back!"

"Very amusing, little zombie. As I was saying, this is where your mark is. This is where your miserable existence will…end." He motioned to a spot below his elbow; there was no way he was putting her spot near Danielle's, in spite of what he said before. Even as she glanced down to where he was pointing, Cindy looked unimpressed. "Let me guess… You think Danielle is going to save you instead of these other two pigs. You think you know her so well… Do you want to see where their marks will end up?" He pointed to his left shoulder; a spot for Mrs. Phillips, and down to his right heel; an appropriate spot for the unsuccessful interloper. "You know you'll blame yourself if you survive instead of them. Or maybe you'd blame your precious best friend."

"No. I would blame you."

"Really?"

"You're the one who did this, not Dani. You're the one who kidnapped us. You're the one who gave my best friend nightmares for the past three years! I don't ever forget who is really responsible for all the evil in the world: the people who commit the evil!" Cindy bared her teeth. "And you will still have to answer for your crimes someday."

"I have; it's called Arkham!"

"Not Arkham. You'll have to answer to Him." Cindy pointed up at the ceiling.

Zsasz rolled his eyes. "I already have a higher power in my life, one that has given me this sacred mission. How successful has yours been at protecting you?" He shook his head, almost pityingly. "You know what, little zombie? I hope Danielle does decide to rescue you. She'll get you back alive, of course…" He casually picked a dirty nail with his knife tip. "But not without marks. Maybe I'll carve a crucifix into your cheek. A little reminder of your faith. You can question Him how much He cares for you as you watch me slit the throat of this old woman…" He smiled as Cindy blinked several times; not as stoic as she appeared. "You can sing His hosannas as you watch me stab, over and over again, this mewling manchild as he squeals for his release… and I'll take my time granting it to him. Would you like to see that… Cindy? Would your God protect you from me? Would your God grant you forgiveness of your best friend for putting you in this position?"

"You think this is the only time in my life I've seen bad shit happen?" Cindy scoffed. "Please, I grew up in East End. You know what they do to girls in East End? And that's not even counting the abusive losers my sister dated – I swear, that girl has the worst taste in men!" She shook her head contemptuously at Zsasz. "Monsters like you, they're our bogeymen! But we've got a lot worse demons in reality."

"I'm sure once Danielle is forced to make her choice, you'll see things… differently."

"Really? Know what I've noticed? For all your talk about Dani… guess what? You still don't have her! You haven't been able to have her after almost four years, and that burns you up, doesn't it? What are you gonna do, kill two of us, keep the final survivor, and keep making Dani play your sick games? Or exchange the final survivor for her? If you do that, and I'm the final survivor, I guarantee you I will hunt you down and stick those knives straight up your—"

"You wouldn't by chance be related to Aaron Cash," Zsasz winced, "would you?"

The piggy stared blankly at him. "…Who?"

Total asshole. The self-defense teacher silently fumed to herself as she taped the bandage in place around her foot. Her nose was already re-taped.

Putting her boots on, she spun to her feet. Winced a little. It would have to do. She pocketed two aspirin.

Time was running out. It wouldn't be long before he called back. How would she stall him?

Her gear was on, salvaged from the glass. As she bent down to grab the last piece, her eyes caught sight of the photo album of her family. On the cover was a portrait of all of them together, staring solemnly into the shot.

The book was brown leather, old-smelling… and it was the most precious thing she owned, aside from her grandmother's ashes.

One by one, she traced the faces of her parents, her siblings, the nieces and nephew and cousins. 12 hours' time difference… It would be late morning where they are. She wanted so badly to call them, make sure they were OK.

But now wasn't the time.

"I saw you die once tonight, Cindy. No way am I letting it happen again!"

Cindy's little "slip" - saying "mill" instead of "mull" - wasn't a slip at all; her best friend had left her a vital clue! There was only one mill Danielle could thing of in Gotham City - the old Sionis steel mill. It made sense. She grimly remembered the incident when Zsasz had killed the mugger - it was back in the Industrial District. Batman had thought at the time that Zsasz was based somewhere there.

They were in the steel mill. She couldn't afford to think otherwise.

On her way out of the living room, she paused. I could call the police right now. The thought was very appealing. Let them handle this. This isn't my responsibility, it's theirs.

She looked back at the picture of her family, sitting on the coffee table now.

Marks or no marks, that bastard has killed over 500 people. If the police were going to stop him, they would have already. The police cannot stop him. But I can. I have to! If I don't… Again, she saw Cindy and Mrs. Phillips cold on the park bench, and Theodore with a knife sticking through his throat.

She put the helmet over her head firmly. "I am not afraid anymore."

One last check under the bed, an old friend in her hands… Zsasz is going down!

She locked the front door with resolution, descended in the elevator and made her way out onto the cold streets. Approaching the curb, she stuck out her hand.

"TAXI!"

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