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Arkham Days	By : fearmyautobot Category: zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] > Batman (All Movies) > Batman (All Movies) Views: 8154 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, or any of the characters from the comics or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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I stared down at my hands. Owen didn't push or rush me. What was I supposed to do? Joker had made it clear if I let anyone into our little game it would be an instant win for him. I trusted Owen I did, but Joker had eyes and ears everywhere. For all I knew he could be in my room with me right now! He could be hiding under my bed! Come to think of it…

"Crow, what are you doing?" Owen's voice scratched out, as I leaned over eyes glancing behind my feet doing a sweep of the empty space. Well, it doesn't hurt to check.

"Nothing, sorry." He sighed, his fingers once again turning to grip the bridge of his nose.

"Please, Crow. What's going on between the Joker and you?"

"Nothing," I tried to smile. Shame not remembering who you are, but something in my gut told me I was a crap liar. "Nothing is going on with me and that Clown. Why would there be?"

"Really? Nothing at all?" He looked at me and for the first time since I can remember in knowing Owen he looked angry. Angry at me. The same look I had seen him give every other inmate in this facility.

"No." I felt my response disappearing as he abruptly stood up. He walked over to the door of my cell. Then he gave me that look again, and walked from the room and down the hall with a pace that could only be described as driven. I sat there a moment staring after him, waiting. After a minute or so I went to the door of my cell, ready to close it, to stop any unwanted guests from getting in. That's when I saw him. Owen came speeding back down the hall, his face hard and determined. I could see him slip his gun off his shoulder and he stormed right past my cell, lifting the muzzle of his gun to displace a couple cameras. He paused at the one meant to face towards my cell. It had already been lifted. I imagine the Joker had someone do that the night he snuck into my cell. How he managed to get someone to do that and why it hadn't been corrected till now was beyond me. Still, Owen didn't look pleased to see it out of place, but still made no effort to correct it.

He turned back towards me walking back to my cell, and as he did I couldn't help but back away. With his face hard and his eyes cold, covered in dark clothing and kevlar, gun at the ready…he was frightening. I wonder if that's how the other inmates perceive him. This powerful and frightening guard. On some level they must, because out of all the accidents and incidents with the inmates attacking the guards, Owen has never been attacked. Even Aaron Cash had been attacked on more than one occasion, and he was a man I wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley.

He walked in and closed the cell door behind him. His jaw still set, and his mouth now a thin line, he motioned with his eyes for me to sit, and I didn't have it in me to protest the six foot man before me. He fiddled with his gun only a moment before propping it up against a near wall. I watched as his hands reached up to unclasp his armor, then he lifted the heavy piece of protective clothing laying it to the side close to his weapon. Was he… undressing?!

"What are yo---"

"Shut it." He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. His tone said it all. I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest, the sound of it over whelming my ears. He wasted no time in pulling the end of his dark shirt over his head, and though he tried to remain as steady as possible, I could see him wince. It was hard to see, my eyes strained in the dark, but I could hear velcro being pulled apart. Please, please! Don't let him be taking off his pants!

I felt something hard and cold fall onto my lap. I picked the object up turning it over in my hands. A flashlight.

"Go one then." I peered up once more to where he stood. I could see his shadow covered form moving in closer. Taking a deep breath, I pressed in the button and shined the light on Owen.

I never expected to see this. He stood there shirtless, and I was thankful to see the velcro I had heard was not his pants, which were still firmly belted around his hips, but a pocket from where I assumed he produced the flash light. His chest from what I could see was as toned and muscled as his arms. His chest rose and fell, his skin lightly covered in dark curled hairs. I sat there staring at him moving the flash light over his form, waiting for him to say something when I began to see them. Dark patches scattered across his skin. Some where fading in color no longer the same dark purple hue as the others, the sizes ranging from the size of a quarter to the size of a fist. All of them looked new and displaced on his skin, but as I let the light rise I could see the spots of color continuing on up his neck, and down his arms.

"What happened?" I clicked the light off. My fingers clutched the flash light, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. He couldn't see him, but I could feel the shift of the bed that let me know he was once again by my side on the cot.

He didn't say anything. I listened to his ragged breaths. He still sounded angry. I could hear him clear his throat before the silence was broken with his voice.

"I need to know."

"But there's no--"

"Don't give me that shit. I know something is going on. That nut has been working on turning this place upside down since he got here. What ever he's planing it's going to be big, and since the freak has arrived I managed to keep my head above water and stay out of it. But the second, the second, that you ask for me for help…suddenly I'm on the top of everyones list."

I opened my mouth to say something, feeling my eyes gloss over with fresh tears, but I couldn't manage to choke out a sound.

"Look, don't get me wrong. I was glad you came to me for help. God knows why, but I'm mad about ya. Honest." As he said it his eyes softened for a moment, but they didn't stay like that long. "I gotta know though what's going on. I need to know if someones going to be waiting for me when I go home, and I trust you enough to give me that answer. Please, don't treat me like a grade A idiot."

I tried to hold it back I swear I did, but right when I thought I had it together it just came bubbling out. I leaned my head down letting my hair drape over my face as I cried. My breath kept coming in short hitches as I hiccuped through the tears to try and make out coherent sentences, but all it sounded like was a slurred mess. I felt his hand on my back, but aside from letting it rest against me had made no further move to comfort.

"I'm-I'm sorry." He continued to wait, trying to avoid looking at me. "But I can't---can't tell you."

Once again I saw his jaw clinch and he looked away from me completely, his hand falling from my back to rest in his lap tightening alongside his other hand.

"What do you--"He stopped him self and I heard him take a deep breath as he continued to stare away. "What do you mean you can't tell me?"

"I just can't."

"You can't or you won't?" His voice sounded strained like he was stopping himself from yelling.

"I want to. Trust me, I really really want to, but I can't."

"How am I supposed to believe that? Look at me! What ever you are planning with him…you should at least tell me why I'm risking my neck for you." Once again my eyes fell to the dark spots on his rising chest. Even in the dark I could see them now.

"I didn't know that would happen. I didn't know he even knew we had spoken. I'm sorry."

The room fell silent. I watched staring hard at his clenched fists. Waiting for something.

"So you were just stringing me along?"

"What?"

"Do you love'em?"

"What? Love who?"

"The fucking clown, you dolt. Who else have we been talking about?"

"Are. you. out. of. your. mind?!"

"Am I out of my mind?! I'm not the one locked in the looney bin!"

"No, you just use it to pick up chicks!" I didn't even feel him move. One moment he was just sitting there and the next thing I know he's up, and hauling me off the cot by the front of my shirt. Before I even had a chance to react he lowered me back down, his fingers loosening and falling from my shirt. He turned and walked to where he had left his clothing, and given the sudden rustling and the movement of his silhouette I knew he was redressing. With the final click of his vest, he snatched up his gun and walked to the door.

"I am so fucking through with this."

Author's Notes:

Double post. Comments at end of 22.
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Arkham Days