|Piece it All Together
Author: Music-Is-Life-88 PM
Hannah was ready to go back Quantico and forget everything and everyone in Gotham. So why is she on Arkham for a party, with no shoes, helping Batman while still trying to make a good first impression on her boyfriend's 'friends? Riddler/OC SequelRated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Adventure - The Riddler/E. Nigma & Batman/B. Wayne - Chapters: 3 - Words: 6,370 - Reviews: 24 - Favs: 36 - Follows: 52 - Updated: 10-07-12 - Published: 05-13-12 - id: 8113332
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hannah saw Batman glare from behind his mask, "You're the one who insisted on coming with me. You told me you'd be an asset, right now you're be a liability,"
Hannah once again became defensive, "I'm not being a 'liability', I'm being practical. Sure, you're Batman, maybe you'll be able to grapple yourself up a couple floors," she explained, eyeing the grapple gun attached to his belt, "however, back at the FBI training academy, they didn't teach us how to do that,"
"Fine," he replied harshly. Hannah could see how annoyed he was with her, but she knew she was right. It would be impractical for him to try and carry her around like a child. He unhooked something from his belt and handed it to her, "Take this," was all he said in a gruff voice before grappling himself onto some vents.
She examined the boomerang in her hand. What did he call it? A batarang? Her mind could help but link his vigilante delusions to having a hero complex. Then, where did that stem from? Could be Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, something bad happened to him as a child that made him want to fight bad guys.
Before she could dive deeper into psycho-analyzing the Dark Knight, she looked over and saw the guard she and Batman had rescued falling down, blood pooling out from his head. Before she could scream, something struck her own head from behind. A sharp pain shot in her neck and echoed along her spine as she, too, fell onto the ground, black clouding her vision.
Her eyes fluttered, something bright was right in front of her, and her head wasn't in the state to deal with it.
She turned her head to the side, dismissing the muscle pain, and forced her eyes open. The area around her was unfamiliar; to the right where she turned her head, there was a structure with glass walls, but the glass was made so you couldn't see inside. The floor beneath her was something like a hospital, and there were some stairs farther ahead of her. Directly in front of her, however, so that she couldn't see anything else, was a TV set. The screen flickered to life, the picture took time try to get focused and the volume was put up so loud she could feel the vibrations in her stomach when an obnoxious laughter rang out.
"So, this is Eddie's new ska-wheeze?" the man on the screen asked someone off camera before looking directly into it, directly at her. She could easily deduce this was the infamous Joker, "Hello there. I apologize I can't be down there to great you personally, but I'm a bit tied up at the office right now," he chuckled, "though I suppose you know what that's like don't you?" She did, but even though she knew her hands were tied, him saying that made her move them around more in a lame attempt to find her hands loose, "Now at first I thought Eddie was the crazy one, going out with a cop. And you're not just any cop, are you?" He asked, holding up an ominous folder, "No, why you're the cop of cops, F.B.I," he read out slowly, "but of course he's bonkers, that's not news. However you, dear, are in the right place! You must be insane! You're a cop, you're supposed to catch us baddies and lock us in the slammer, not lock lips!"
From behind her, two thugs appeared and walked in front of her, one batting a pipe in his hand, "Now, if you want to get o-ut," Joker sang,
Hannah looked at the men in shock, "I can't fight them!"
Joker tutted, "Oh you cops are all the same. Take away the gun and suddenly you're no better than the rest of us, are you? Well come on! I know you're not like the others. Hehehe, I have faith in you," She wasn't sure if his tone was supposed to be condescending, but it didn't matter either way as the monitor turned off. Forced to focus and deal with the situation at hand she kept nervously fidgeting with her hands behind her.
"Hey, look at that? She stupid or something? No way she's gonna get outta those ropes," One thug pointed out. Having no other options, she kept moving her hands around, ignoring the impending rope burn around her wrists. Something pricked the back of her hand and she gasped, biting back her tongue so as not to draw anymore unwanted attention her way,
"Nah, she ain't getting outta here. If she did, boss said we can do whateva we want," Carefully making sure she wouldn't get pricked again, she ran her hand along her lower back, palm facing her, trying to find what poked her.
The first thug spoke up again, "Well, unless she somehow cuts her way outta the ropes,"
Hannah's fingers tingled in pleasure as they wrapped around the batarang. Did these morons really forget to take it away from her? She grabbed the piece of metal and flipped it in her hand so that it was touching the rope. Then she began to saw,
"Well yeah, but how'd she ever be able ta do tha-"
The thug's sentence was left hanging as Hannah instinctive threw the batarang when she freed herself. Of course it did little more than nick his skin and since she had no previous training, the batarang did not come back. Taking advantage of their shock she raced over to the thug she threw the batarang at and attempted to pry the pipe from his hands. The first thug came up from behind her and wrapped his arms under hers, pulling her back from her shoulders. As the second thug stood back up, one hand still touching the scratch, Hannah kicked her foot out, hitting in between the thug's legs. Using the momentum gained, she bent forward and kicked the first thug in the leg, making his grip on her loose and him loose his balance. She turned herself around and pushed him on his side, still gripping his wrist. With unsteady hands she felt her fingers around his wrist until she located where the pressure point should be. Pressing down on it, his muscles spasmed and he collapsed.
The second thug had recovered from her previous assault and he let out an animalistic roar. She bent down to the ground and picked up the pipe, taking a good swing at the thug's stomach. She pushed aside childhood baseball team memories and took another swing at the thug's back when he doubled over.
At this point Hannah was unsure what to do.
The Joker had been right, she thought bitterly. Normally she just had to keep her gun trained on them, cuff them, and wait for re-enforcements to arrive. Sure, she'd killed a man before, shooting down a suspect either running away or running at someone, sometimes her. That's what police officers do, whatever is good for the safety of the people, but where was the line? She found herself asking that question a lot now. Could she just beat a man to death with a pipe?
The first thug began rising up, and this didn't surprise the young agent. That pressure point was only supposed to temporarily disrupt muscle functions in the arm. Having no time to question herself, adrenaline pumping, she brought the pipe down at the first thug's neck. Then, after seeing that thug successfully collapse on the ground, she did the same to the second one.
She let her arms fall, both hands still clutching around the pipe, her breathing was hard. Nervously, she knelt down and reached for one of their necks, pressing her fingers against a vein, feeling for a pulse. She let out a shaky breath, intended as laughter, and smiled. She felt a pulse. She moved around to the other one and found his pulse also there; weak, but there. She hadn't killed them, she thought happily. Unfortunately, her mind brought up another concern; how long would she be able to say that after a round with thugs at this asylum? How many times would she face off with inmates and how many times will luck be on her side, letting her knock them out safely until the point where she has to kill them? More importantly, when that time comes, will it be ok?
Wanting to make sure there were no other threats, she looked around the room, the entire floor she was on seemed empty, except for the glass structure she spotted earlier, now she could relate its appearance to a greenhouse. Hesitantly, she stepped towards one of the wall, trying to peer inside.
"Who's there?" A deep, accented voice called out hoarsely. She jumped away from the glass and raised the pipe defensively to her shoulder like a bat. She side stepped towards the down of the 'greenhouse' making sure to keep an eye on the inside in case she should see whoever was in there. When she reached the door, she kicked it open. Instead of another thug, she saw someone tied up and hanging from tubes and wires. She gasped and stepped forward, curiosity once again taking hold of her, "Who are you? ¿Eres tú, bruja?"
Hannah, like other children in America, had taken Spanish in high school. She wasn't sure what the last word was, but she knew he had just asked 'Is that you'. As she kept taking small steps towards the machine and man, she stood beside the able, where some form of laptop sat. She glanced at the screen which showed something akin to a personal file. At the top, next to a picture of a tall, frighteningly muscled man with a luchador mask, was the name "BANE". She remembered how that was one of the names from the 'super-criminal' files she saw when she was at the GCPD.
"You… you are not the bruja. Release me!"
Hannah shook her head and began walking backward, "N-no, I can't. You're clearly h-here for a reason." Without anything more she closed the doors shut again, ignore his yells of protest.
"Well now, that was a bit harsh, don't you think?" The TV monitor came to life again, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I need to keep him there anyways, all a part of my party don't you know?" Hannah stared at the screen with a sour look as the Joker chuckled, "Well, I assume you want to get out of there. I mean, there's so many more party games! I wouldn't recommend the stairs, they don't lead any place. But Joker, how do I get out?" He mocked in a girlish voice, "How about a clue? I mean, I'm no 'Riddler', but how about this: Where do rats and other rodents make their home?" He signed off with a loud cackle and the TV shut off once again.
If it wasn't apparent before, Hannah knew she was being watched. She also knew that Joker probably wasn't lying when he said the stairs wouldn't lead her out of here. Criminals like these need her to see everything he's cooked up. So, where did rodents live? In sewers was her first guess, but she spotted no manhole or other sewer access points.
Don't be stupid, Hannah, she scolded herself, they'll live everywhere. Think about where you are now. Inside, she answered herself, So, where do rodents live inside your house?
"In the walls," she whispered aloud. She walked over to the wall and looked, there were a few holes allowing her to see inside and she noticed a ventilation system. She walked along the wall and spotted a vent cover at the other end of the room. She smirked in victory and pried it off the wall, crawling in.
As she crawled through the vents, not pleased with the cobwebs, she decided she may as well try and contact the Batman. She pressed her ear-piece, "Hello?"
"Oh. My god. Hannah, are you ok? I heard gross, ucky thug people, and someone else and it all sounded very threaten-the-hostage-y to me,"
Hannah chuckled at her friend, "I'm fine Garcia," She reached the end on the vent and saw that it continued higher up on the wall. She could jump up and reach it and there was nothing she could use as a ladder. Instead, she pressed her back against one end of the wall and pressed her feet against the other so she was 'floating' off the ground. She began crawling her way up, light pain stabbing her back through her shirt as she moved,
"That reminds me, I've been spending this whole time trying to keep this person out of our coms, and so far I'm doing an OK job but whoever this person is, they sure know their way around the tech-town. I applaud and respect their talents,"
"Garcia, I know who it is, let them through,"
"Are you sure? I can't locate their IP address by GPS, they're pretty much off the grid,"
Well, that definitely seems like Batman, "I'm sure, let them through,"
"Ok," she heard more furious typing from Garcia's end, "Ok, done,"
However, instead of hearing Batman's gruff, stern voice on the other end, a different, yet still familiar voice drawling out in a teasing manner, "Can you hear me, Hannah? I know you can,"
A/N: I'm back, I'm ready to post, I don't know what else to say except for a million apologizes!
Hopefully now that I'm back in the Batman mood *cough*playingArkhamAsylum/Cityfor3hoursstraight*cough* I'll be able to finish this story!
You know what else would help? Reviewing!