Chapter Twelve

The next morning I woke up to my own moan, hips grinding into the futon. Bolting upright I kicked the sweaty crocheted blankets off and hung my head in my hands as my body cooled down. Remnants of the dream flowed through my mind, a rough texture sliding across my inner thighs and fangs pulling across my – I blushed and marched off to the bathroom.

After morning rituals and changing into shorts, a boot for my good leg, tights with one rolled up leg, one legwarmer, socks, and a big black sweater I fumbled around the apartment in search of my spare cell phone. Finding it in a saucepan I shoved it into my fanny pack along with Black Mask's pity cash and shambled my way to the doctor's.

The visit went as well as any where a woman with a freshly broken fibula and tibia, boatload of scars, and a brutally black eye showed up out of the blue. After some crafty excuses and disapproving doctors' tuts I was out of the office with a new cast and a crutch.

Maybe Black Mask ditching me had been a blessing. Batman and the GCPD would be rolling hard for the super criminals, the further from the big names I got the longer I'd stay out of Blackgate. Yawning into my sleeve, I hailed a taxi and headed home. Or I would have, if the cabbie didn't take a wrong turn. Affronted that someone would purposefully try to run up the meter on an obviously handicapped young lady, it took me a moment to collect myself.

"Excuse me I'm not some tourist you can run the meter on," I said, leaning my crutch to the side so I could make eye contact in the rearview mirror. All I got was a grunt, but he kept driving. When he stopped and two more men got in the cab I realized I was in trouble. Squashed to the middle of the back seat the new occupants adjusted themselves so that I got a look at the guns they were toting.

"Anymore complaints miss?" the fake cabbie called, a smug smirk reflecting back through the rearview mirror. I squeezed my crutch, sighing through my nose.

"Can I know where we're going?" I asked. The man to my left took something out of his coat pocket and began unfolding it. I realized what it was too late.

"Sorry Dollface, you'll find out when we get there. It's the rules," the other goon grabbed my wrists and zip tied them as his companion dropped a black bag over my head and tightened it around my throat. Letting out an involuntary whimper, I pulled my arms in tight and bowed my head, trying to be as small as possible. Resigning myself to fate, I slumped my shoulders and dealt with the ride.

Probably forty minutes passed before the cab pulled to a stop. When I was pulled out of the car, which was no easy measure with one useless leg and bound hands, the first thing I noticed was the lack of city life sounds. I wasn't being led into a soybean field to dig my own grave was I? No, we were still on concrete. Taking a deep breath I tried to pick out smells. Moist pre rain air, nothing else I could discern. Leaning most of my weight on one of the men and holding onto his arm I was slowly led from the vehicle. There was a rattle then we entered a building, judging by sudden difference in air quality. I was pushed onto a chair with my hands bound behind the back. Then nothing. I waited patiently for a bit, wiggling my toes in my cast I was thankful I'd pulled on a fuzzy sock over it. This building or wherever was cold. Sighing through my nose, I felt my patience thinning. Masked criminals scared me, this is fact, but the over saturation of stress in the past few days had left me careless and bold.

"Hello?"

"Please reframe from speaking for a moment," came the response. I frowned under my bag. I couldn't place the voice, but it wasn't too threatening. Even blind and bound in a hidden location I was feeling more confident than I did when I first encountered Black Mask. Suddenly the bag was lifted.

I blinked at the light changed and focused on the man in front of me as he tossed the bag into my lap. Tall, lean, sporting a sweater vest and slacks he wasn't exactly what I was expecting. The brunet planted his fingerless gloved hands on his hips and peering down at me through purple rectangle framed glasses.

"Hi," he smiled.

"Nice to meet you," I offered my own worried smile. When he remained silent, I glanced around the room uneasily. Not quite a warehouse, not quite an apartment, I'd guess we were in an office building. It wasn't very clean but wasn't in total disrepair either. He cleared his throat.

"Bambi, was it?" I jumped at my name, snapping my attention back to the strange man. "Not a very fitting name for someone with your complexion," he observed. I shrugged one shoulder. Nodding to himself he dropped down onto a stool behind him, spinning a key ring.

"Although Dollface has just the right measure of irony."

"Uh, I feel the same way. I'm sorry but I don't know you're name?" I admitted sheepishly. If he were anything like the other crazies I'd encountered then he'd be supremely insulted I didn't know of him. True to form, he scoffed and crossed his arms.

"I'm a new breed, I suppose it's not out of the question for someone like you to be unaware of me and my work," he laughed to himself, dismissing the idea with a wave of his hand. I tried to mask my growing irritation. Just tell me your name you sod.

"You can call me Eddie for the time being. Now onto why you're here," he clapped his hands together, grinning a touch manically. "Tell me about Blackgate."

I stared at him in complete confusion. "What…what like cell size and caloric value of meals?"

"Obviously not, I want to know what I can't figure out on my own," he huffed, exasperated. I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. He smacked a hand over his face, dragging it down and muttering something about the nation's free falling IQ values.

"When the siege took place there was no one to change the security tapes. The footage was recorded over itself for the entire week; I want to know what happened during that time. Enlighten me or I'm going to release some delicate information on Sionis and make sure he knows whose fault it is," he spoke slowly as if I were stupid. The threat wasn't exactly unexpected, there was always some kind of health jeopardizing facet with these men. Although admittedly everyone else seemed to be a lot more hands on than this guy.

I nodded and filled him in with what I could remember. I left out what I deemed unnecessary, like what I ate or how much I slept or how many dead people I had to step over. While I included my interactions with the rogues I didn't elaborate on our encounters if I could help it. Black Mask tolerated me, Croc was an acquaintance, Joker would have laughing gassed me if not for my connection to Croc, and Batman was an asshole jerkoff.

"The Dark Knight didn't swoop in to save you?" Eddie was amused. I snorted, cracking a humorless smile and raising my bright pink cast a bit, "see this? He dropped me off the third story. Didn't even by me a drink first." That seemed to interest the strange sweater vest wearing man in front of me. The rest of the interview passed by with a clinical swiftness. He didn't let on when something caught his interest, but I could guess he was more focused on the gang leaders deals than with how Black Mask had found a constant supply of fresh suits. When we concluded our talk, Eddie rolled his stool up to me and pulled my cast clad leg into his lap. Warily I watched as he uncapped a Sharpie from his key ring and started doodling on the cast.

"Thank you for your compliance, Miss Dahl. I hope it's been as enlightening for you as it has for me, but I doubt that," he hummed pleasantly. I nodded dumbly, totally unsure of the situation. "Now I'll be seeing you," he beamed. Before I could get out a coherent question he'd replaced the bag over my head and I was lifted from the chair. Moved back into the cab I underwent another long blind ride before I was shoved out of the vehicle with my crutch under an arm and my zip tie cut. Dragging the bag off my head I watched the offending yellow car peel away from where I'd been dropped off in front of my apartment building. Sighing, I glanced down at my cast.

Curling from the side of my calf to my ankle was a green geometric question mark.

/AN: Everyone has a thing for ol' E. Nigma and I'm kinda in love with his goofy Origins iteration. Just...a sweater vest. Amazing/