Chapter Nine
Gotham's criminal underworld thrived on information. Whether the big bosses liked to admit it or not the lifeblood of almost all illegal operations in this town was bled from gossip. It was through this word of mouth that I was granted prison wide immunity from harm, because somehow everyone believed I was Croc's girl. No one wanted to chance gaining the attention of a well-known unstable cannibal. Initially I'd been surprised, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief about my newfound safety. But then Black Mask had to ruin it by turning me into his personal messenger girl.
My real relationship with Waylon was less exciting than the rumors let on. I hadn't actually spoken to him since the collar incident, the likelihood he wanted nothing to do with me was pretty high. I was a coward and couldn't muster the courage to explain or apologize for what happened. So I'd avoided the issue, and him, entirely.
I stood stiffly I front of Joker. He lounged with one leg thrown over the arm of his electric chair 'throne', white chin resting in a gloved hand with the conductive 'crown' resting in his green hair. We'd just finished up business, which was focused around exchanging some of Black Mask's chemicals for money. The deal would physically take place outside of the prison, but the bosses had to approve of it in here. Now that we were done, the mischievous sparkle was back in his green eyes.
"So how have you been Dollface? Croc treating you well? It's lovely to see you again, I must say, but I do wish old Black Mask would send his men again," the Clown Prince of Crime sighed wistfully. I pressed my lips together, glancing away worriedly. Joker didn't like sending back messengers as much as beautifully wrapped presents containing parts of messengers. Or he'd have his men reply with a haiku using intestines.
"I've been well thank you, and I'll let Black Mask know about your thoughts Mr. Joker. Thank you for your time today," I nodded. The clown flapped a hand and two goons grabbed my upper arms. I tensed, shooting a worried look at them.
"Don't be in such a hurry! Let me put a smile on that face, it's the least I can do," he implored, splitting into giggles as he flopped against the electric chair. I whined in the back of my throat.
After Joker had his fun I was dumped in a corridor and left to my own devices. Grumbling, I rubbed at my stinging eyes. The greasepaint irritated my skin and was a bitch to clean off but I'd take this over disembowelment any day. Wiping at the black around my eyes I headed to a meet up point with Penguin's men. No deals were being finalized yet; we were just going to see if either party had anything worth taking. An easy end to another stressful day in Blackgate.
"My favorite little lady! How ya been Dollface?" grinned Ricky "Loose Lips" Leblanc. The man walked towards me with open arms, ruffling my hair when he got close enough. Our meeting point was on the third story of a cellblock just inside of Black Mask's facility. The cellblocks were generally all open air, the walls lined with cells and walkways with an open drop down to the floor fitting the middle of the hall. "Looks like Joker got a hold of ya already," he noted, frowning a bit over my white face, red lips, and dark eyes. I shrugged, scrubbing at the mess with a hand cloth I brought for just this dilemma.
"Yeah well shit happens," I sighed. Ricky nodded sagely. He'd been in the business long enough to understand.
"That it does sister. Now you know I love seein' ya but we do have business to take care of," Ricky was straight to the point today, shockingly.
"True. Black Mask's offering information on inmates and potentially drugs or chemical weapons. Nothing new. What's Mr. Cobblepot got?" I asked. I was sure I wasn't supposed to offer up info first, but I really didn't care. Sure, I liked Ricky well enough, but the quicker we got this taken care of the quicker I could roll into bed.
"Mr. Cobblepot's got – " Ricky didn't get to finish as a black wall dropped between us.
"Aw Christ not you again!" Loose Lips yelled. The man in black twisted, slamming Ricky into the bars of the cell closest to us, I jumped, stumbling back.
"W – what are ya gonna do? Ain't no Christmas trees to drop me off in 'round here," Penguin's information peddler stuttered. The third party growled, twisting his grip on Ricky's coveralls tighter around the throat.
"Next time. You're not who I'm here for," he hissed and pulled back an arm of solid muscle. Ricky and I realized what was happening too late, I barely managed to open my mouth in protest as Ricky squeezed his eyes shut before the man struck him out cold. Loose Lips Leblanc dropped to the ground in a slump. The man in black turned to me.
I was frozen, clutching the greasepaint-covered cloth. I looked from the black and gray armor plates, to the black bat insignia on his chest, to the tapered points of his cowl. My stomach dropped.
"Batman?" the word barely got out before my face connected with the iron bars of the cell behind me. I shrieked through a flash of red and white. He twisted my left arm into my back, my own fingers bloating on restricted blood flow.
"What's Joker's game?" he snarled, pressing my arm further. Tears poured against the bar digging into my cheek.
"What? I don't know!" I yowled again as something popped in my arm. Why the hell would I know anything about the Clown?
"You run information between the bosses in here. Talk if you plan on using this arm again," Batman snarled.
"I – I don't know anything! I just set up deals between them, guns for money or favors and stuff," I howled. He must've been good at this kind of work because as soon as my arm went numb he pulled me off the bars and shoved me over the railing. The cold bar dug across my lower back, my feet whipped in the air as I grabbed at the hand on my throat, the only thing keeping me from falling three stories.
"I don't have time for this," he spat, forcing me further off balance over the bar. My eyes rolled frantically, tears rolling back into my hairline. I knew nothing. I was going to die. I opened my mouth to plead one last time to the snarling man over me but the gunfire beat me to it. Batman ducked, arms pulling back defensively against the bullets. For a moment I hung suspended, tears stilled to droplets in my eyes as we stared at each other, his blue eyes widening for a moment as I tipped over the railing. I had a brief moment to see a group of Penguin's men charge my assailant before my shoulder struck the second story railing, I flipped, and landed on my left leg before crumpling to the ground.
The gunfire and screams from the third floor echoed chaotically in the stone halls of Blackgate. I barely heard it, a deafening rushing in my ears. I was probably screaming but couldn't tell, the pain in left leg dominating my entire world. Something drilled into my leg, pain echoing up through my body. I must have landed on a rod of rebar. I tried to sit up but my arm wouldn't respond. I heaved between cries, rolling onto my side. I sought blindly for the source of my struggles, but slumped back down. I couldn't do it.
The struggle upstairs had ceased a while ago. I hadn't seen if the Bat had left or not but I didn't care. The pain in my body was still strong, but after sobbing until my hair and neck were sticky with tears I realized I had to get moving. With that…thing, still around I couldn't afford to lay here vulnerable. Climbing into a seated position against the wall, I got my first look at the damage.
My left arm hung limp, pain shooting through my shoulder. My left leg was more of a pressing matter. The angle it laid at was all wrong; the calf of my coveralls ran red. For a time my head swam in and out of darkness. When the world came into enough focus I pushed myself across the floor, dragging the left half of my body as I did so.
At some point I drifted out of consciousness, resurfacing when a very distressed member of Black Mask's people discovered me. From there I was carried to the offices and with no little protest my arm was forced back into its socket and the leg of my coveralls pushed back to reveal the damage. Looking down at the brittle white splinter protruding from torn meat, I finally succumbed to a full on black out.