The Freedom of a Killer Is Gone

Stockholm stood in jeans and a man's dress shirt. The top buttons of the shirt were open, showing the deep cuts on her upper chest. Her face was blank as she stood next to Joker, presumably wearing his shirt.

The Penguin, Riddler, Firefly, and Bane stood opposite the Joker, Stockholm, Jen, Two-Face, the Italians, Vanity, and Frankie.

"We got the girl, what now?" The Misfit Mob leader asked, her words laced with a Russian accent.

"Where is she?" Penguin asked impatiently.

"In the van." Stockholm answered before either of the women mobsters could.

Everyone looked at her curiously, all of them had noticed the carving on her chest and whose shirt she was wearing. Frankie shot a smirk towards Vanity who gave one back in return.

"Good." The Penguin muttered. "Seeing as we're all one big family now! For our next little plan, we'll be in two groups. You," he started pointing to the Joker, "will take two of the Italians, Rouge, Firefly, and Stockholm's little friend."

Jen gritted her teeth together, angry for several reasons.

Stockholm continued her calm façade though inside she was worried. One of the two main reasons was: she couldn't protect Jen. The other was clearly Vanity.

"Tarasov, you'll take Stockholm, Two-Face, Bane, and the other two Italians. Each of you is going to rob a bank. One is on the east side of town, the other on the west. Joker, you'll take the east one, it's a Marcello bank. Tarasov, you'll take the one on the west side of town, it's a Power Save bank. At exactly five o' clock you will enter the bank, and you have to be out by exactly five twenty-seven. You go, you rob, then you come back. Now go."

Jen and Stockholm gave each other wary glances before splitting into there own groups. As Jen departed from her friend, she turned her smoldering gaze to Vanity. Feeling eyes on her back, Vanity turned to look at Jen. A wicked smirk spread across her face as she walked closer to the Joker. Jen clutched her hands at her side, there was no doubt in her mind she'd kill, or at least beat the shit out of that woman today.

As she watched Jen leave, Stockholm followed Tarasov warily. It would be at least two hours till they could do the next job. Two hours of several people Stockholm cared very little for. They all piled into the van as the other group went into another.

[[Stockholm's POV]]

An Italian sat in the driver's seat, Tarasov sitting next to him, Dent and the other Italian in the middle, and Bane and I in the back. Bane was, to say the least, not very sociable. All he did was breathe and stare at the back of the chair Dent was in.

My chest was still tender from the carving. As I took in breaths my chest ached slightly. I hoped it wouldn't interfere with the job.

We sat in the van for an hour, doing nothing. The Italians played with their guns quietly, Bane did nothing, Tarasov sat up front doing nothing, and Dent? For an hour, he flipped his coin. It annoyed me to no end. The flipping then the catching, again and again! That and thinking about my current predicament with the man I love.

He had carved his name into me, but I couldn't figure out if it was for love or for other reasons. I wanted so badly for him to love me and I couldn't bare to have someone else gaining what I wanted. There was no doubt, I was his, but was he mine? I felt so weak in this situation. And it really only fueled the anger I had at the moment.

Dent's coin flipped into the air once more, but didn't land back in his hand. His angry eyes snapped to me. Releasing a ragged breath I glared at him. "You keep flipping this coin and," I turned the burnt side towards him, "your luck is going to decide your dead." I snapped slamming coin down in his open hand.

[[Third Person POV]]

Two-Face stared at his hand for a moment then at Stockholm. She had retreated back to her seat, sulking. He clutched the coin in his hand. Stockholm's hand was soft, feminine, even though she was so harsh. As he glanced back her, for a split moment he saw Rachel in her seat.

It wasn't fair. The person he loved was ripped away from him yet Stockholm was here. Joker loved her, in some sick twisted way, but it was love. He hated that. But he'd noticed how they had distanced themselves from one another. It might not have been noticeable to them but he saw it. And the fact that several outside forces were encouraging them was strange. The Penguin separated them, and it seemed Vanity was trying to do the same.

"My, my Stockholm you seem a little tense." Tarasov comment, obviously trying to make a blow of some sort to her pride.

"I'm very interested of what you perceive my actions as Tarasov." She snapped back blandly.

"Call me Frankie, after all we are family." Tarasov said in a mocking manner.

"Your not my family. Most of my family is dead and the other is on the opposite side of town." Stockholm replied harshly.

Two-Face let out a dry laugh. "I'm surprised you still call those people your family, after all you shot three of them and one of them hasn't been very good to you." He grunted glaring at her.

Tarasov's eyebrow raised as she glanced back at Stockholm. This girl could be more useful than she had planned her to be.