Weakness

They left five days before the date of the Arkham hit in a convoy of suburbans and motorcycles. It was supposed to take a minimum of three days, from California to the busy New England area. Soldiers took turns driving, switching from car to vehicle every few hours, and toward the end of the second day, they broke into two groups, planning to separate even further the next day so that they didn't all arrive in the city at the same time. Such a large group would raise suspicion.

Roslyne stayed in one of the suburbans mostly, save for one three hour stretch where she rode on the back of a bike, clinging to Barsad.

They made pit stops for food and hygiene but otherwise drove nonstop. The girl mostly looked over the asylum layout, memorizing it and hoping that her spacial recognition skills will prove to be useful, as Bane had mentioned over a year before.

Then, they arrived.

The convoy had two days to lie low, so they split up all over the city of Gotham in different hotels, hiding their faces as best they could. Bane looked more suspicious than anyone, keeping his head down, hood pulled over it and following his soldiers silently.

The drivers took care of any public interaction, Bane, Roslyne, Barsad, Mücher, and Henry all staying inside and out of sight as to not ruin their public image for whatever was to come in the future.

Roslyne, Henry, and Bane all stayed in one room, the siblings taking theb eds while Bane stayed awake, studying everything he could and remaining mostly silent for the two days they were cooped up. It was a tense atmosphere, but it soon dissolved, twisting into one huge adrenaline rush.

Everybody was positioned outside of Arkham in as low-key a manner as possible, black suburbans littering the perimeter if one cared to notice.

Bane and Barsad were perched at the top of a nearby parking garage, the leader with a small computer he would use to track everybody's movements within the building, and the soldier with his rifle, ready to snipe.

Mücher, Roslyne, and Henry were going in as visitors, Henry with a small device that looked like a phone but could be hooked up to any computer to gain access to all of the asylum's systems--lights, networking, cameras, security, everything.

They were dressed as civillians with tiny ear pieces in place so that they could hear whatever Bane had to say.

As they walked up to the front gate, Roslyne plastered on a fake smile, looking the guard straight in the eyes as her skin began to prickle.

This is it, she thought to herself. This is how it all begins.

Because it is.



"Hi," she starts sweetly, batting her eyelashes. "We're here to see a patient, an old friend."

The guard looks at each of them, oblivious to the fact that the tall ginger is standing directly in view of the camera that would be catching Roslyne's face, his own head tilted slightly away from it.

"Name?" The guard asks, looking bored.

"Jack. Jack Napier."

His brows knit together but he nods, and Roslyne assumes that it was a test to make sure that they were actually there to see someone and not roam the corridors fill of fascinating crazies.

"Alright, in through here. You'll be searched. Go on."

She smiles fakely again and walks through the gates, then the doors, pretending she doesn't hear the sound of his body hitting the ground as soon as one of Barsad's bullets lodges itself into his head.

They are searched, patted down weakly by woman in white, who motions for them to go on. There are more orderlies than expected, but it won't be a problem. Henry makes a weak statement about needing to use the bathroom, and one of the employees points him in the direction, not knowing that he's actually on his way to one of the two tech rooms to hook his gadget up and knock out anyone who crosses his path.

"Henry's on his way," Bane's voice rings in her right ear.

"Give me four minutes," Henry adds, speaking into the little device that is really the key to the entire project.

Mücher stays back, nodding in the direction that Henry has departed and says, "I'll just wait for my friend," and leaves Roslyne to move forward.

She knows exactly where she needs to go, what hallways to take, where each camera is. She knows.

And, she walks quickly, able to hear Bane's labored breathing in the ear piece, up on the garage watching her progression.

"I'm in the room," Henry alerts everyone. "Three orderlies are down, one dead."

Roslyne knows that the thought of her own brother killing somebody should shock her, but it doesn't. She's seen it now, would probably do it herself if it came down to it, and she's too wired to care much about a simple psyche ward employee.

"Another thirty seconds, and I'll have the cameras down."

"Awesome," she mutters to herself at the same time Bane voices a pleasant, "Lovely."

Roslyne keeps her head down as she walks into the medium security ward, holding patients believed to be dangerous but not to the point of needing solitary confinement. This is where Jack is, a man who she will get to know past this one little visit because he will be a key figure in tearing Gotham apart.

Or, Bane believes so, at least. Apparently, he already has quite a reputation.

She nods at the guard without looking at him and passes through the door that he opens, scanning the room numbers and names next to them, counting to thirty in her head until finally, Henry says simply, "Got it."

Roslyne looks to the nearest camera, seeing that there is no spot of light flashing. They're off. All of them.

She grins almost manically at the guard, winking, then stops in front of a door, peering through to see a pale man with stringy blonde hair.

"Hello, Jack," she says through the slit.

He looks up with glassy brown eyes and lifts and eyebrow. From where she stands, Roslyne can see the flesh on either side of his mouth puffed up-- scars from a blade, obviously.

"How are you, dear? It's been a while," she plays, stalling so that Mücher can make his way to her location, dropping employees as he goes.

The man looks at her as if bored for a moment before taking a deep breath and joining in, in a mess of off the wall replies. "So glad you could make it, honey! It's awfully boring around here without you. Nobody to play with, nobody to appreciate my tricks. Just white walls and bland food and needles getting stabbed in my ass!" He finishes screaming, and Roslyne can only grin.

He's in Arkham for a reason, but all the girl wants to do is get him out, along with the others.

"Mücher should be arriving soon," Bane states. "He looks to be grappling with somebody just outside the door."

Roslyne nods to herself, chancing a glance over her shoulder to the guard standing in the corridor. Any time, now, Henry will open all of the doors to the building save for the actual patient rooms and Mücher will come in and take care of the security.

Any time.

Any time.

"Bane, your word?" Henry's voice sounds breathy, soft.

"Go."

The door unlocks and opens in an eerie mechanical way, making the guard turn and look at it curiously only to get a fist in his face.

He swears and lashes out blindly, not even hitting the ginger soldier and finding himself in a headlock that ultimately leads to his neck being broken.

Roslyne turns back to the blonde man in the cell-like room and tosses a grin over her shoulder before taking off with Mücher, asking in a hushed voice, "Did you take out everyone up front?"

"Everyone who saw our faces," he confirms.

Bane talks in their ears: "Ten seconds before the system alerts the police force. Three minutes until they arrive."

All of the calculations were done long before, police efficiency, the distance between the station and the building, traffic reports for the day. They have all of the information.

Roslyne's heart pounds in her chest as they sprint down the hallway, hearing the inmates of sorts growing rowdy as they watch them, obviously aware of some sort of security breach.

"Henry will be opening the doors in twenty seconds."

The yells turn into a dull roaring, then one not-so dull, and Roslyne hopes that Henry is running, too, and able to open the doors once they're all outside.

She can't hear her feet hitting the tile anymore, or really feel them, for that matter. All she feels is adrenaline, and accomplishment that will only multiply when she's on her way out, watching the patients flood the streets. Some will be put back into a cell, she's sure, but the more clever ones, the more valuable ones, will escape.

"Police are on their way."

Bane sounds calm as ever, but Roslyne knows that his eyes are scanning the building from his perch, ready to order Barsad to shoot any of the arriving force.

The entrance comes into view, and Roslyne and Mücher slide into it before stumbling outside, paying no attention to the guard bleeding on the ground.

The teenager turns to see Henry running with the gadget in hand, finger poised over a button, and as soon as he gets to the threshold, his thumb presses it.

Cheers erupt just as sirens can be heard. Then, both are drowned out but the sound of engines, and Roslyne looks up to the garage, able to spot Barsad's small figure but not Bane's.

The sound of mass movement from in the building reaches her ears, and Roslyne feels the first bit of anxiety spike in her, blood beginning to boil as goosebumps raise on her arms. Mücher, Henry keep running, Roslyne not far behind, then the first of the police cruisers arrive, skidding to a halt.

The girl holds her hands out as she sees a blue sphere fly in the air, catching it and shoving the helmet over her head, viser down, hiding her face. The other two soldiers receive the same treatment and cover themselves as an officer is shot by Barsad the second he steps out from his car.

Three motorcycles screech to a halt in front of them as soon as the patients begin to file out, screaming, cheering, running, and Roslyne springs onto the back of one, holding tight to the massive body, and grins into Bane's leather jacket because now, speeding off, they're safe.

Henry and Mücher are riding just behind them, and Barsad is sniping off a few of the police before hopping on his own bike, and the drivers are in their cars departing, and they're all safe.



They drove for as long as they could, some of the reassembled convoy moving on, but Bane, Mücher, Henry, and Barsad stop to stretch and do whatever else necessary.

Roslyne could feel herself glowing, grinning broadly at all of them, wanting to hug the soldiers and hop into Bane's arms. Instead, she settled with the weight of his hand against her back and for the first time since they arrived in the New England area, she let herself relax a bit and lean back into his touch.

After relieving himself, Henry checked his phone for recent news, showing all of them the headline of the mass breakout of Arkham Asylum, and each of them smiled as if they had just won some kind of award.

It wasn't lost on Roslyne how twisted they must be.

"So, now we play the waiting game, yeah?" Roslyne questioned through her smile, basically shaking with excitement. She couldn't feel the temperature outside or the ground beneath her feet. All there was, was the adrenaline and pride raging in her body and Bane's hand.

"Correct," he nodded. "All of us will reconvene at the base, then we'll discuss who will come back to watch the progression of Gotham's downfall."

Henry looked up at that, interested, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Any ideas on who?"

The mercenary shook his head and Roslyne quirked an eyebrow at her brother, who waved her off and quickly said, "Well, we should get going, then. Need to put as much distance between us and the city as possible."

They were all riding again within seconds.