Terra Firma

I cleared my throat loudly as I pressed the little green button labeled 'talk', signaling for quiet.

Talk.

God, four years ago, I couldn't do it. Four years ago, my tongue was useless, my twitches prominent, my beauty nestled deep inside and lying in wait. Waiting for the wildfire that would crack me open and help me bloom. I owed it all to them, The Joker and Poison Ivy. They plucked me up, a Daisy amongst tar in a concrete city, cracking me open and giving me this. This life. My friends. My surplus of money, my series of books.

Which is why, after trying so hard to forget about them, I simply could not. And after seeing them in my house, I couldn't bear to think of sending them out. And as I saw The Joker saunter into the living room, staring at phone with a grin, I merely turned to the wall nervously, as if I felt Bruce could sense the criminal presence in my house.

His voice was tense. No surprise. Bruce was man with a lot on his mind, much like the man I considered father. Yet, unlike Bruce, he handled it with a brush of the hand on his purple shoulder, a shake of the head, the swing of a knife, and a badly placed joke. Bruce bottled it up, ever just and set in his ways, always seeing right and wrong in black and white.
There was no room for gray in Bruce's life.

No room for purple.

"Cosette..." He said, rushing.

I swallowed, relieved the laughing had stopped, surprised at the calmness in my tone,

"What is it, Bruce?"

"Oh, oh. Is that my old pal Bruce? Hey. Uh, tell him I said--"

There was muffled sound, and I knew Ivy had rushed over, clasping her hands over The Joker's mouth. I cringed, hoping Bruce hadn't heard anything.

Thankfully, he was caught up in his own worries.

"I just got word of another... murder in the alley... and I knew you were out. I was just worried."

"Well.." I turned, "I'm... home. And safe."

He sighed, ever the gentleman, "Thank goodness. Did you see them setting up the carnival?"

"Yes. Jay, Angel, Homer and I are going tomorrow night."

"I don't think you want to bring Homer."

"It's a carnival..."

"Yeah. But... have you seen the flyers? It's supposed to be scary."

You wanted to know about scary? Try being in my living room with The Joker and Poison Ivy struggling like children while talking to Batman on the phone.

I sighed, "Well then, I guess Angel will find a sitter or something."

"Okay. Just thought I'd let you know. ...I have to get going. They need my help."

"They always do."

He grumbled softly and chuckled, "I know. Sometimes I wish I could call up somebody to take over once and give me the night off."

I laughed, "Not gonna happen."

"Yeah. Yeah."

"Well.. bye, Bruce."

"Yeah. Bye."

I hung up, turning again to face them. We all stared at each other again for what seemed like several minutes. Ivy had let go of him finally.

I was extremely thankful for her in that moment. She was the only person who knew how to balance out his control problem. He got up suddenly, ruffling his green hair, staring around the apartment, marveling at the big screen television. Ivy rolled her eyes as he ran a gloved finger across the top of it, staring at it like it was something rare and out of place.

I cleared my throat, "Back already?"

Their heads snapped in my direction, smiling.

"We got bored. Nice place you got."

"That's an understatement. Got a roommate?"

I sighed, "It's... mine. Just mine."

"Oh? No man asleep back there?"

I felt myself grow pink and shook my head. The Joker nodded and turned over to a rack of DVDS I'd organized carefully next to my entertainment center. He was taking each one out and tossing it to the floor.

Ivy frowned at him, "Jack, be careful."

"CAAAAREFUL." He mocked, tossing some more down, "What's with the chick movies, kid? Psh. What's this? Superman? Pah. ... he's not even real. Oh, Clockwork Orange!"

Ivy got off the couch, leaving him in his own little world. She stood in front of me, inspecting my hair, flattening out stray strands and smiling in her motherly way. I smiled back, and in an instant, we were hugging again. Daisy and Ivy. Cosette and Fantine. Daughter and Mother.

Just one hug. Sometimes, that's all it takes. To break the ice. Or, in this city, crack the pavement.

"I missed you." She laughed.

I nodded simply. In the first year they were in Arkham, I would obsess over the news and constantly stare out the window. I guess I was waiting for the big boom and the cackling laughs, the chaos and the return of my "family".

I used to be angry about it, but now that I was a bit more mature, I understood why they'd done what they did.

I understood everything they did. I still don't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

There was a knock on my door and we jumped. I froze as The Joker paced over, thinking he was going to open it. Thankfully, he stopped and peered into the little peephole.

"The gang's all here!" He cackled, smacking his lips and swinging the door open to let Goofy and Grumpy lumber inside.

"Brought Chinese food." Grumpy grumbled, pausing to survey my huge apartment.

"Well, ain't this a pretty picture!" Goofy laughed, walking over and holding out his monstrously lanky arms to hug me. I found myself smiling with them. Grumpy copied Goofy's move.

"Alright, alright," The Joker waved his hands about, "Break up the love fest. Or I'll have to slit someones throat. Geez."

We stared at him, laughing. He laughed with us. I felt good about my laugh at that point, like it was in the right place, the right time. The right people. Crazy people.

Then, as it died down, he raised his painted eyebrows, speaking in a deadpan voice.

"Serious-ly."

We made our way into my dining room and I felt oddly nostalgic as we sat down to eat and Grumpy threw chopsticks to everyone. Ivy was digging through that large black bag Goofy was carrying and withdrew a bunch of postcards held together by an old rubber band.

"We didn't go to any of those places," she whispered in my ear as The Joker took his seat at the far end of the table, with Goofy and Grumpy, stabbing blindly with one chopstick into his plate, "we just bought those postcards at some 7-11 somewhere."

I looked through them, each displaying colorful photos of ironically delightful scenery. On the back of each one was a short note in her small handwriting and some meaningless scribbles from him. I held up one, where he'd drawn a man hanging in his red pen, a stick man with 'x's for eyes. Ivy was definitely the more artistic one. I showed it to her, my eyebrows furrowing.

She laughed, smiling, "He's like a five year old sometimes, I swear."

I stared at him, now fumbling with a noodle between his chopsticks. He became visibly frustrated, throwing it into a plant I had in the corner. It shook violently, throwing it back at his head with a CONK.

He glowered at Ivy, who shrugged, clicking her own chopsticks gracefully between her fingers.

The scene was humorously dark, just like old times. Goofy told stories and we all listened intently. It was just like before, and I was no longer scared or stressed, just happy again.

There was just one thing missing.

But I couldn't place a finger on it...

Jay

"Gordon! Gambol! You have got to come quick..."

The young cop rushed in quickly, out of breath. Batman had just left us and we were now at the station, racking our brains over the new puzzle. We'd been getting several... all different, all confusing as hell.

"Can't you see we're trying to solve--"

"I know, I know! We found one."

"What?"

"A survivor."

We got up, rushing behind him, following him into our makeshift medical 'ward', where we brought injured criminals and witnesses we absolutely needed to talk to.

And God knew how much we needed to talk to this one.

"She's within an inch of.... so... you know..."

We nodded, trying to appear calm and supportive as we approached the bed in the gray room. I inwardly grimaced, staring at her head wrapped up in bloodied bandages, barely recognizable under the all to familiar red liquid. We knew her hair was red. That was a given.

I was usually the talker in this situation, being the more approachable one.

"Ma'am... I'm so sorry..."

She moaned in pain.

"Can you tell us anything about the attack? Or attacker?"

She was shaking horribly. I could sense Gordon behind me, putting a hand over his mouth.

"We really need your help." I begged firmly as she shook her head, "so this doesn't happen again. Did you see him?"

A shake of the head, "He... he... came up... from behind. Blunt object... hammer? It was cold. So cold."

I took her shaking hands. They had an unmistakable bluish tinge. I focused on them, not wanting to look at her ruined face.

"Had me in a room. Freezing. Filled with ice. Snowtime. Tied up. Walkie-talkie. Told me he wanted me.. to solve a puzzle."

I shivered.

"What did he say on the walkie-talkie?"

"He said..." She cried hopelessly, "H-h-h-he said..."

Riddler

"Hello, hello, my dear... Look around you. That's right. Where are you?"

"....a-a-a freezer?"

"That's right! Now, Missy, can you tell me... how many blocks of ice are in front of you?"

"Two..."

"Correct again! You're doing so, so well. Keep it up! Question three: how many ice cubes did you put in my drink the other day?"

Silence crackled. Fucking bitch.

"Oh, quiet are we? Well I remember. I remember very, very well... IT WAS THREE."

She screamed at the sudden shout in my voice and I smiled, running a hand through my slick hair.

"Now, now. Listen. Are you listening? I would like to give you a little puzzle... Right now there is a slow acting poisonous gas running through that freezer. It won't kill you yet. I'll even let you out! If... you can guess my name."

Sounds of a frustrated struggle. I chuckled.

"I wouldn't struggle or guess too many times. The more you move or speak, the faster it will act."

"This isn't f-f-f-fair!"

"LIFE ISN'T FAIR. GET USED TO IT."

I twitched, struggling to recover from the darkness.

"You have... two minutes. And if you don't guess right, I'll come in there and teach you a little lesson... about the difference between odd and even numbers."

Jay

"... Was it a cane? Tell me. Was it a cane?"

The girl coughed weakly, twitching. The blue discoloration was growing in her skin at a speeding rate.

"Gambol, she..."

"Please. Please. Tell me it was a cane."

Nothing. The girl grasped onto my black hands desperately, as if trying to connect or communicate with me something she could not get out.

"I don't... I-I-I don't know...."

She gave a shudder and a painful sigh, the blue freezing up her body from the inside out. I blinked painfully, letting go of her limp hands and shaking my head, suddenly feeling the scrap of paper placed in my hand. Gordon put a hand on my shoulder and I looked down.

Another code. Another death.

"This isn't working..." I said aloud, twitching my hands around my shaved head, "If we're going to catch this guy, we'll need someone with the same sort of thought process..."

"Jay... I really think you need to calm down..."

"DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, GORDON... not with these women... with these women who look like..."

Penguin

"Riddler! Riddler! Kid, open up." I banged on the door to our food supply.

What the hell was he doing in there? Who was I kidding? I knew. We all knew.

The large door opened to reveal him smiling brightly, the madness sparking freshly in his eyes. The smell of blood was undeniable, but I ignored it.

"Hello, Penguin. You'll have to excuse me. I'm on a date..."

"Cut the bullshit. Did you talk to this Tool Face guy? Did you get the building for the nightclub?"

Kid peeked nervously out into the night. We were almost done setting up. No thanks to his crazy highness.

"Yes, yes. Everything is going splendidly with the new Mob Crusader... now, go off and count pennies or something. I'm busy cleaning up."

He grinned frighteningly at me and shut the large door with a thud.

I sighed worriedly, messing with my hairpiece. The carnival was tomorrow night. And here he was. Fucking with another one of those broads he liked to bring back home. I couldn't let him ruin it... If he tried anything, I'd have to do something.

Before he did something.