Chapter 10: Getting Away (Part 1)

[Clock - 01:12 | 01:12 AM]

[Calendar - 13/01/2003]

[Location - Batcave - Gotham City, New Jersey]

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 POV Change

Bruce Wayne - Batman

It wasn't easy being Batman. Investigating the many crimes that somehow had ties to each other was not as easy as he made it seem, and just because he had years of experience alongside a sharp mind to aid him in his endless work, sometimes he wished such a burden was not his to bear. And then, reality slapped him in the face, and he was going back at it again, with each and every single villain that got free once more from the Arkham Asylum- it was an endless game of rat and mouse, chasing after them was his job and he accepted it a long time ago. Which was why he was investigating and cross positioning every avaliable information on the many villains that had escaped Arkham Asylum. One of the major villains he had already sent back to Arkham, and although that caused Dick some emotional turmoil a week ago, now they were working in tandem to find the other villains to bring them to justice once more.

"Master Bruce." The familiar voice of an old family friend called out for him. He had no need to turn around to see the one and only Alfred Pennyworth standing behind him. By the sound of his footsteps and the soft clicking on metal, he must be carrying another tray to serve him something to eat- he will admit, after that... disagreement with Dick after they sent Killer Croc back to Arkham Asylum, he has thrown himself into his work to try and clear his mind a bit. He was able to make a few connections as to where the others might be hiding after the escaped the Arkham Asylum, with a few being certain due to him implanting trackers in their bodies... although some managed to get rid of their trackers (that was how he found Killer Croc so quickly), especially The Joker, Poison Ivy, and- "It's been three days since your last meal, and I am once again asking you to please eat... Or I might have to start guilt tripping you to do so." The same nonchalant and slightly exasperated voice broke him out of his deep thoughts- Right. Alfred was here.

"I'm alright Alfred-"

"-Oh Master Bruce, it pains my old heart to see someone I raised like a son not seem to care for his own health-" Alfee start speaking with a heavy english accent, doing his best to sound as heartbroken as he possibly could, and that wasn't hard for the old butler as he has done such a thing for long that he doesn't even remember when his strategy of "guilt trip the fuck out of this boy" started. But oh boy, is it efficient! With his best deadpan voice, Alfred said: "-and it breaks my old heart to see you push yourself so hard and not care for your own health-"

"-okay, okay, I'll eat... Just, stop... whatever it is this time, please." Bruce planted his right hand right into face. He could only sigh as he had no need to turn to look at Alfred to know he had that same irritating smile those smug lips of his- He still doesn't know why this works so well on him, but he just does it to stop Alfred from going on a rant about poverty and the hungry children of the world (That, by the way, Wayne Enterprises has an entire charity program for that) and how some sick poor children with a terminal disease sleeping on the streets that hasn't eaten in seven days could eat what he so carelessly threw away or whatever else he could come up with in his most dead voice ever. "Also, Alfred, please inform Dick tomorrow that... I've thought over about it, and although I don't really like the idea of him getting close to Killer Croc, I will allow him to... converse with him." That was the original reason they had a minor disagreement that ended up with Dick being upset and, well, storming out of the room and leaving Bruce to his work. Bruce was only worried that Killer Croc was going to lie to the boy, just because he seemed to recognize Dick and was allegedly friend with his parents, it doesn't mean that Bruce was going to trust Killer Croc.

And worse yet, the boy wanted to talk to Killer Croc alone.

And Bruce didn't want that. And Dick asked why he didn't trust him, and then Bruce tried to explain it wasn't a matter of trust but a matter of safety, but the boy was starting his early years of puberty, so foolishness was up the part. As Alfred settled down a plate, Bruce stared at the quite rich looking sandwich settled on it like it was his worst enemy before sighing and was already taking a bite when-

Red light flashed in one of the many screens on the BatComputer. Bruce heard Alfred audibly sigh as he turned to look at the sceen, easily recognizing the warning on the screen.

[Code Red 3-B: Escape from Arkham Asylum]

"...here we go again." Although breaking the pattern apart- normally, after a mass escape from Arkham, it would take a while before there are other attempts at escaping Arkham Asylum again as the building is being repaired and security is increased a hundred fold... escaping would be highly improbable as well, because those who would do such thing are already out- Oh... There is one person in there that would do such a thing, but it wasn't exactly their style. "Croc." He wouldn't try to escape so harshly so soon after being captured, he would wait until he was focused on something to try and escape, just so he could buy more time to hide in the sewers of Gotham- even though Croc knows the sewers like the back of his hand, Batman still has his tracker on him-

It just went off.

Croc has a little helper, doesn't he?

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POV Change

Atlas

The sheer cold of the water was not what he expected.

Sure, he did expect the water to be cold, but not this much! As he held onto Waylon's neck, his arms wrapped around the big crocodile man's neck, he once more used the [On/Off] cantrip to keep the tracker on the back of his neck completely shut down so the bat couldn't find them- I mean, he knew the guy was paranoid, so of course the tracker must be from him! And, well, his [World Book- Encyclopedia] had a section where he could read information on the items before him, like his own version of the famous [Observe] skill from those Gamer fics... When he had read everything he could find that was owned by [Waylon Jones, aka Killer Croc] he easily found the tracker inside him- it was owned by both him and Batman aka Bruce Wayne! He went rescue the big boy knowing that, so when he used [On/Off] as he entered his cell from the outside in, he also targeted the tracker in Waylon's neck, periodically using [On/Off] to keep it from reactivating itself and snitching on them.

Because, let's face it, Batman surely made a tracker that would reactivate itself in case it got shut off somehow.

The water rushed and it soon tasted... terrible. Look, when he casted [Alter Self] on himself and changed his body to adapt and be able to breathe underwater, he didn't think he'd also taste it! Waylon didn't really taste the disgusting water because he was able to hold his breath like any crocodile can, so he could easily hold his breath for half an hour if he wanted! And with the speed they were going at, in half an hour, they could easily reach their destination. They took a left after jumping off of the back of D'iangelo Sewage Treatment Plant into the water below and they were arriving at the Dixon Docks, where Waylon knew an underwater passage to the sewers of Gotham big enough to fit him and hidden enough where nobody would see them enter the place.

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'Ah, yes, I couldn't tell!' A little pissed- okay, a lot pissed. He hated the sudden disgusting taste that overcame his senses, and that couldn't do anything but endure it as they had to be silent. Waylon moved through the docks and went deeper and deeper until they reached this lower portion beneath the docks... Atlas saw a few skeletons with concrete blocks tied to their feet and some even missing a few bones here and there, and soon they went through this dark tunnel for what felt like half and hour until they broke through to the surface- a dark place, damp, and slightly familiar place. Not exactly the place where he met Waylon, but it was still a sewer! "Urgh-" His first reaction was to throw up immediately after he dismissed the spell that had a hold on him, and this rather thick mixture of water, oil, and other things came out alongside his dinner, because he couldn't really fucking keep it in anymore.

"[Waylon Jones (Surprised, Worried, Disgusted): Oh, uh- You okay there, Atlas?]" Taking a few steps back as he watched Atlas heave and throw up, Waylon felt a little bit worried about the boy as he gasped for air and the weird gills on the sides of his neck snapped close, spewing out this piece of plastic. He watched it hit the ground and bounce a little as Atlas spat down, clicking his tongue and waving his fingers in front of it as a dull glow of magic flowed out and pleasant smells started to flow in this portion of the sewer: "[Waylon Jones (Surprised, Pleased): Huh, lavander? Smells way better than sewer garbage.]" Waylon's reptilian eyes narrowed as his vision easily adapted to the darkness, which was how he watched Atlas heave and throw up like he was dying.

"And tastes too." Spitting on the ground once more, Atlas casted [Prestidigitation] on his tongue to simulate both the scent and taste of lavander, which tasted and smelled way better than sewer garbage in any and all forms! "Now I know how Atlantians feel when they swim close to those really polluted regions of the sea..." He scratched his neck, feeling the itch that came with changing his body alongside the itching of breathing literal garbage through the water- it was like he was in a room full of smoke, but he couldn't close his mouth because the smoke went through his entire body and stuck to his pores! "Urgh..." Then came the nausea, and he hated his life just a little bit more. As he pressed his back against the wall and pulled himself away from where he had his back against the dark wall and waved in the general direction of where he thought his projectile vomit might have landed. "Never doing that again..."

"[Waylon Jones (Amused): Well, I can clearly see why...]" He reached out and took Atlas into his hands again, looking down at the guy before sighing: "[Waylon Jones (Awkward, Unsure): Listen, ergh, I... thank you. For coming and taking me out of that cursed place... it's not a good place to be.]" Nobody ever believed the patients and it was more of a old tale to scare children, but ever since he understood he was alive, he has heard stories of Arkham Asylum and how it drove people to madness, and being in that place seriously fucked him up.

He's glad to be out.

"Ah, don't worry about it- A kingdom needs its king, doesn't it?" Shrugging, Atlas reached out and touched Waylon's neck- because he couldn't see very well in the darkness of the tunnel, he was unaware of the look Waylon gave him when he touched his neck -and said: "We gotta take off the tracking chip, though... I think I might be able to take it off... Hey, what do you think of a really big knife close to your neck? Just kidding, I'll just use magic to take the tracking chip off."

"[Waylon Jones (Caught off guard): The what now?]"

Oh, right. He didn't tell him that he had a tracking chip on bis neck.

Silly Atlas.