#vladco

"Harles," Pam all but melted against her girlfriend. Arms coming around to squeeze her middle and head resting over a thin shoulder. A worn overcoat stained with a fresh gleam of blood from her forcible acquisition slid from her shoulders to reveal a sweaty, muddy uniform. "Oh, god, Harles."

Harley tugged her closer, smoothing a bone white hand over her hair. "Sugar? You with me? You're not lookin' so good." Bruises mottled up an down her limbs and her face. A thick red mark trailed around her neck.

Pam laughed bitterly. "I'm not feeling so good, babe. High profile breakout and I got jumped by Jokers goons."

"His goons? Messin' with you?"

Together they moved further into the apartment. Pamela touching keepsakes, photos, and mementos of their adventures. Selfies in diners, atop Wayne Tower with a scowling Batman sandwiched between them; and sketch of Pamela reading while she was sprawled over Danny's bunk. He'd done research and homework while she read; keeping each other company on so many dismal days. They made up stories about passing boats and complained about the food. She'd patched him up after his scraps and fights while ignoring their shared urge to cry. She bit her lip all over again.

"Want to break him out?"

"They didn't like that I was protecting him or that he was kicking their asses. You heard what he did to Joker, right? I guess they wanted revenge."

Harley made a popping noise, "overcompensatin' then? Gotta defend their manhood. You injured?"

"I want to break him out. I...I didn't want to leave him Harley. Fuck, he's just....it's not fair! I hate...I left! I left him in Arkham and....Harles what is that fucker going to do to him. Victor might protect him but he's always in his research and Danny likes to wander! If I don't get him out of there then..."

"Ain't he a federal prisoner or some such? I mean, I'm all for a break out, but let's get you cleaned up, kay?"

Allowing herself to be herded toward the living room where Harley dragged out a first-aid kit that would have made any underground doctors jealous. It wasn't until the television clicked on did she realize that her thoughts had worn her brain into a traction-less ball.

The Real Housewives of Star City blared over the room.

"Ugh, change it, babe. Can't stand that crap. Oh! Is Stargate on?"

"I'm not seeing anything." She mused quietly, wincing only when the disinfectant dug through a shallow collection of cuts. "Hmmm, there's a documentary about the history of Kandaq, SNL rerun, Interview with the King of Atlantis. Gotham Guides is airing right now."

"That's a good one."

Flipping through channels only to pause on the aerial shot of Arkham. Searchlights spider-webbed over ever available surface. Sirens, law enforcement vehicles spread about the bridge, drives, and parking lots. News boats, crews, and helicopters flooded the scene. "A breakout from Arkham Asylum is currently under investigation. The alleged mastermind of this breakout, Victor Fries, AKA Mr. Freeze broke in to the Steady Going Research facility in an effort to retrieve Mrs. Nora Fries. He was apparently accompanied by Daniel Fenton AKA the Princes of the Damned. After the resulting altercation Nora and Victor Fries were pronounced dead at the scene. Daniel Fenton was taken to an undisclosed hospital after an officer of Gotham PD discharged his weapon on the scene. Twelve people are being treated for frostbite and shock related injuries."

Slipping to the floor with a clatter the remote remained there as both women stared at the screen. Another view of Arkham included Bruce Wayne being escorted out by Nightwing and a crush of Arkham guards.

"Bruce was visiting. He's been...visiting, Harley. He's was visiting and the kid's hurt. Danny's gotten....hurt!"

"So we kill the cop." Harley exclaimed only for her smile to fade entirely. "Baby?"

Pamela didn't move, couldn't move as the story played on.

#$#$#$

Oswald Cobblepot raised his cocktail, light reflecting from the vibrant blue on the glass. His henchpeople, staff, Condiment Man, and current guests of the Iceberg Lounge. A few tourists had been handled cocktails at were clearly terrified as he spoke. "My friends, chumps, guests, and employees. We lost one of the greatest villains on Gotham today. A brilliant mind of thieving, bribery, explosives, and breakouts. Second to none in understanding what it meant to sacrifice in the pursuit of a greater goal. Dedication and loyalty are so hard to find these days, but Victor embodied them. He advanced our understanding of bank vaults and their weaknesses. He advanced the understanding of cancer. We're also here for Nora....we never really met her but we knew her in our hearts." Oswald thumped his chest. Someone sniffed and another person coughed wetly. "And a toast to the Prince of the Damned so he doesn't die tonight and we can kill him later."

"Here! Here!" A meaty bouncer responded before throwing back his cocktail. Everyone followed his example and Oswald drained his glass before handing it off to a sobbing waiter. Victor didn't drink but he was a polite guest and a fantastic tipper.

He'd be missed by everyone.

#$#$#$

Jim granted himself a smoke-break as the last piece of footage had been viewed. Submitted camera footage from the cab, every byte from the research center had been reviewed once to get a view an understanding of the footage and several times over to build an accurate timeline. It had happened so fast that seconds had to be taken stamped and annotated.

"Alright everybody," he rose and rubbed his forehead. "Look. We'll be on this for a while. Everyone, go home and get some sleep and hug your loved ones. Make sure your shit is locked up tight and get home safely."

A receptionist stood from her desk and held up her phone. "Sir, I've someone who is requesting to speak with you. It's Bruce Wayne."

With a hand on his cigarettes and another on his lighter he sighed faintly. Officers, interns, CSI, a few detectives, and the janitor paused in their hurried shuffle to depart. Blood hounds. The lot of them.

"Mr. Wayne," Jim rolled a cigarette between his fingers with a consideration for early retirement. "I hope you've reached your house safe and sound."

"I'm fine, Jim. I'm trying to get to the hospital. Which one is Danny at?"

Debra was still listening and so was the rest of the office. "Mr. Wayne, I'm glad to hear that you're fine but I can't give you that information."

"...Jim. Danny's been seriously hurt. I have a responsibility to make sure he's alright. Is he out of surgery? Is he alright? How?"

Jim frowned at the floor, pretending he didn't notice the slow shuffle for personal effects and lingering eavesdroppers.Meaningful glances were making their rounds. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne; but this is directly related to an active case and high profile. Any information related to it is confidential."

Bruce gasped which made Jim wince. "But he's hurt!"

"Yes..."

"Well who can you discuss this with?"

"Parties related to this case, Mr. Wayne. The responsible legal entities for Mr. Fenton. Look, Mr. Wayne. Your heart's in the right place but this is confidential." More than a few officers were frowning at Jim now; some miming or signing at each other.

"...responsible legal entities?" Bruce repeated thoughtfully. It would be weird if he let out a relieved sigh; so Jim only answered with an affirmative. "Thank you, Jim."

Plastic met plastic as the the phone settled gently into the receiver with the care of a man trying very hard not the break either. "He's about to cause me trouble. I just know it."

#$#$#

Maddie Fenton's hands were wrapped around a slowly warming bottle of bourbon. Ice had continued to melt as her attention remained focused on the news reports from Gotham. Running reports on the Arkham breakout. Danny's transfer to a hospital and now endless speculation and rehashing of information while everyone waited for information.

Rising, the mad scientist pitched the soggy glass across the conference room, through the opaque panel of glass and the VLADCO logo. Shards rained over the dark hallway, splintering against the opposite wall and stone floor.

Bathed in the light of her laptop and the reflected red of emergency exit signs she seethed. Bitterness she'd been nursing for nearly a year came roaring to the forefront . Fear, grief, and self-loathing mixed with half-drunk alcohol until tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

Stomping over the shattered glass to march through the dark halls. Everyone else had gone home for the day and she'd been staying late to work as she'd done since moving out to this city.

Now, she had a destination in mind. Stepping onto the busy thoroughfare she waved a hand. "TAXI!:"

chap 15