So I kinda had to cut the previous chapter in two. It was just becoming too long for just one chapter.
It's finally FINALLY starting to get into the Arkham lore. It felt like it took forever for me to get to this point, and I know I'm probably not the only one who felt like that. However, I'm at a little bit of plot contention when it comes to the timeline of when the Arkham Asylum game takes place. Initially going through the game, I thought it would take place around either late July or in the middle of August. But when I went back to fact-check my findings, all I found was Summer 2009 as the date it took place, Obviously, I'm not using 2009 as the year, as this takes place roughly 2005/2006, but month is a bit trickier to narrow down, as it could be as early as May to as late as August.
Feel free to comment or PM me on what you think might be a good month for it.
And now, back to our regularly scheduled program
Crane groggily opened his eyes as the alarm blared in his ear. He moaned, feeling blindly for the alarm before smashing his fist on the sleep button, silencing the noise. Blinking blearily, he felt for his companion, only to find an empty spot instead of a warm body.
That's funny. Usually I'm the one up first, he thought absentmindedly, rubbing his eyes before picking up his glasses as he stumbled out of the room. He beelined for the coffee machine in the break room, surprised to find that the coffee hadn't been started. Becky usually put the coffee on after she had her tea if she woke up before him, familiar with his tastes after more than two months of living with him. With a shrug, he put on a cup but stopped when he spied the note on the floor.
Did she go out for groceries? he thought, his mind still foggy from sleep. Maybe she forgot her grocery list.
His eyes scanned the page, rereading it a couple of times before the words finally hit him and he paled, instantly feeling more awake.
He grabbed his scythe, only stopping to don his mask before dashing out.
Time was of the essence. If he didn't get there in time… he refused to think of that possibility as he raced towards the docks. That was the only thing that mattered to him now.
/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/
"Why don't you tell me…Becky Albright."
She tensed, startled that he had discovered her identity. "How do you know my name?" she cried, unsheathing her scythe from her cane and holding it tightly in front of her, as if to shove him back if he got too close. "Who told you?!"
"No one," he said, reaching into his pockets and retrieving a small note. "I just found this when I happened to be passing by the Iceberg Lounge last night."
She snapped the note from his hand, her eyes narrowed as she read through the list of names on the first page, with several of them crossed out save for the last. "What does this have to do with—Wait, is this a hit list?" she asked, her mind putting the pieces together as she looked over the listed names again, remembering a reporter talking about a string of murders recently when she had been watching tv a week ago.
"That's right. Someone put a hit out on you. A pretty big one, too, if the length of the list is anything to go by." he said, crossing his arms as he stepped closer to her. "So, any idea why you'd be important enough to have someone put a hit out on you?"
She glowered at the note, before wadding it up in her hand. "Friitawa," she muttered, practically spitting the name.
"Who?"
"Just some witch who decided that if she couldn't have Scarecrow, no one could. I'm surprised you haven't heard about her. She was all over the news a few weeks ago," Becky replied, scowling.
"I haven't exactly been in the area until recently," he said, then let out a chuckle. "So, this whole thing is about some jilted ex of Strawface's? Gotta say, I didn't think he had it in him."
She rolled her eyes. "You got your answer, now let me go!" she said, shoving him back with her cane as she attempted to escape, only to be stopped short as she was grabbed by the edge of the costume's skirt.
"Not so fast," he rumbled, pulling her back to face him as he blocked her in, leaning close to her face as she struggled to free herself. "You wanted to know how to get into the hidden city, correct?" he whispered.
"How did you-?"
"Just a little something I overheard," he said, smirking when he got her full attention. "It's not something most anybody these days knows about save for a select few. But, if you do a little something for me, I can tell you where it is and how to get in."
She glared at him for a few seconds, before finally looking away. "Fine," she sighed. "I guess I have no choice. What do you need me to do?"
"You'll see," he whispered in her ears, before backing away from her. "Until then, Scream."
Becky covered her face as a smoke bomb went off beside her. When the smoke finally faded, she found that the mysterious man was gone.
/~~~~~~~~/
It took far longer than he would have liked, but Crane finally reached the Shipping plant, nearly tripping over his own feet as he skidded to a halt. He pulled up the sleeve of his pajama top, checking the watch on his left arm.
4:30
He let out a curse, silently praying to Parallax that she was alright. Passing by the smokestacks, he turned a corner to find Becky next to a crumpled building, coughing as she batted away the lingering smoke.
"Becky?" he called, running over to her, his right hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"
"I-I'm fine, Jon," she said, blinking owlishly as he seemed to suddenly appear in front of her out of the dissipating smoke. "He didn't hurt me."
"That's a relief," he replied, his left hand brushing her hair out of her face before he gripped her shoulder tightly. "But just what in the name of fear were you thinking?! Did you have any idea how much danger you were in?"
"Look, I didn't exactly have a lot of time to contemplate how much of a bad idea it was," she huffed, crossing her arms. "You saw the note; it was either get there ASAP or risk getting arrested and sent back to Arkham. And why are you in your pajamas?"
"Don't change the subject!" he blurted rapidly, glancing down momentarily in embarrassment at his undress before meeting her eyes once again. "You could have died, Becky! And for what? Just so we don't have to go back to a place we could break out of easily."
"It's not about that," she snapped, glaring at him. "He knew my identity and where we lived, Jonathan. What was I supposed to do? Just let him leak my identity to the police and have a thousand cop cars break down our door."
"You could have at least woken me up," he grumbled, wiping his eyes beneath the mask.
"If I had woken you up, you would have insisted you come with me. And we both knew I needed to come alone. Do you not trust me enough that I can handle things on my own?" said Becky, tears in her eyes.
"I do trust you! I trust you more than I have ever trusted anyone in my life!" Crane cried, gripping her shoulders tighter. "I thought we talked about this last night. I can't just have you constantly throwing yourself into danger at the smallest chance that someone else might be hurt. At any moment you walked under that smokestack, that man could have planted a bullet between your eyes."
"What does it matter? We all saw how much that would stop me," she snarled icily, instantly regretting her words at the hurt look on Jonathan's face, despite the mask covering it.
"Jon, I…" she attempted to apologize, but he just held up a hand to stop her.
"Forget it," he huffed, refusing to look at her as he walked away, his shoulders slumped in both exhaustion and hurt. "We'll discuss this later."
Becky opened her mouth, then shut it again, shaking her head as she started to follow after him.
She stopped when she felt a card stuck to the heel of her shoe. Peeling it off, she noticed a phone number on the back, with the crude symbol of a red double-sided A beside it.
She risked a glance behind her fearfully, before hurrying to catch up with Crane.
/~~~~~~~~~~/
Above the couple, perched on top of the antenna pole, sat the Arkham Knight. He watched intently as the Scarecrow arrived at the shipping plant, surprised at the show of concern in the Scarecrow's voice as he comforted her.
While his guess that they were together was correct, he hadn't expected the amount of affection that the strawman showed to the red-haired girl. At best, he had thought that the arrangement was much like that of Harley and the Joker; a Stockholm syndrome affair that was only beneficial to one party and a minor source of amusement for the other. At worst, he had expected it to be some form of charade, probably to study some effect on fear in some way, shape or form before leaving her dead in a ditch.
He could hear them arguing down below, and despite himself, he was reminded of when he had a similar discussion with someone he used to trust, what seemed like a lifetime ago. He shook his head, focusing back on the two rogues.
She was cute, he supposed. He could see why Strawface would be attracted to her, even if the 13-year age gap did make him raise an eyebrow. He wouldn't judge, however. He had seen far weirder in this lifetime.
You continue to surprise me, Miss Albright, he thought, watching as the argument grew more heated below him. I would have never expected that you would hold such power over someone like the Scarecrow. Perhaps you will have more use than just as a common soldier.
He watched as the argument broke off as Crane walked away. He would need to plan this carefully. Her alliances were still with the Scarecrow, and it didn't look like those would be breaking any time soon, despite the little spat they had just finished.
But first, he needed to get her trained before he could approach her with his offer. While she had the raw strength and speed to outmatch him at his limits, she tired far too easily and lacked the necessary skills to hold up against someone like him in a fight. While he was sure Crane gave her the rundown on some basic fighting techniques, those basics were nowhere near enough to take down someone like himself. And if he was to recruit her, he needed to know she could stand up to someone like the Bat, or at least enough to tire him out before he took the kill.
He was truthful when he told her that he hadn't had a fight like that in ages. He was almost looking forward to sparring with her again.
He grapneled away as Becky turned to look behind her, smiling as he gave her one last glance and a small salute, heading towards the small island near the outskirts of the steel mill, his silhouette outlined by the setting sun.
/~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/
Hugo Strange paced the room of his hidden office in Arkham Asylum, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his guest. He stopped as he heard footsteps outside, waiting patiently for the footsteps to retreat out of hearing. While he knew that it would be impossible to enter the room without either the hidden switch, which he kept attached to himself at all times, or several gelignite explosives, it still made him nervous when someone approached from the outside.
The footsteps soon trailed off, and Strange let out a breath as he relaxed again, tapping his foot. However, before he could resume his nervous pacing, he heard a faint knocking underneath the left stone statue of a griffon. With a grunt, he slid the heavy stone to the side as Friitawa crawled out from under the trap door, the statue automatically sliding back into place when he let go.
"Ah, I was wondering when you would show up," Strange remarked, straightening his glasses. "It's been a long time, Linda."
"Indeed, it has, Hugo," she replied, dusting herself off as she stood. "I don't believe I've seen you since my internship at Blackgate all those years ago. How goes your studies?"
He grimaced. "Unfortunately, I've hit a snag with my research as of late. The brainwashing of Sharp has not gone according to plan. He continues to be too strong willed to convince to go along with my employer's plans," said Strange, turning his back to stare at the blueprints of Gotham City, a boarder marking the outskirts of the city, with a large area cordoned off in the middle roughly where Wonder Tower would be.
"Which is why you summoned me, I take it?" she replied, looking around at the plans for Arkham City, smiling as she realized that their "employers" were one in the same, and why she had been directed towards the secret entrance that led to the Asylum. "Anything you can exploit out of our dear warden? Split personality? A lover that you can exploit?"
Strange shook his head. "Not a lover, no. But he has been obsessed with the logs of Amadeus Arkham as of late. However, as common with those taken in with split personality disorder, he seems more prone to suicidal thoughts than killer instincts."
"A most annoying problem," she agreed. "Perhaps I can offer a solution. For a price, of course."
"Of course," Strange purred, smiling. "What do you suggest?"
Friitawa reached into her satchel, taking out a couple of teabags and setting them down on the desk.
At first, Strange raised a brow in confusion, wondering what tea had to do with mind control before he spotted the green top hat symbol sitting almost invisibly on the tag, with small, black print reading WAYNETECH on the bottom, and it clicked.
"I was unaware you had Tetch under your employ," he replied, smiling as he pocketed the teabags into his coat.
"It took a bit of "persuasion" but he eventually saw things my way," she retorted, grinning as she remembered how delicious the Hatter's fear had felt a month ago, and imagined how delicious the fear would taste on the citizens of Gotham when her plan finally came to fruition.
"Good. Good," Strange muttered, the overhanging light causing his glasses to flash as he turned back to the former doctor. "And what would you prefer as payment?"
She chuckled, the noise seemingly lowering the temperature of the room despite the thermostat being nowhere near her. "You know me, Strange. Just the usual, of course. I believe three will suffice."
"Of course," he said, handing her three files from off of his desk. "These three won't be missed if you happen to…drop in, on your way out."
"Good," Friitawa replied, thumbing through the files, her eyes gleaming as she eyed her next victims. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, doctor." With a flourish of her coat, she heaved the statue to the side and slid underneath into the dark below, her glowing red eyes the only thing Strange could see before they, too, disappeared.