This DCverse is Maddening

(WARNING! Adult themes are highly prevalent in this chapter. Nothing explicit but the dark tones involved makes me believe giving a warning at the beginning is required. Please be advised!)

'What a night.'

Albert felt as though a heavy, wet blanket had been draped over his shoulders. Weighing him down into a deep slump. It wasn't a physical exhaustion, like the ones that from a hard day of labor. Nor the rather pleasant strain that came from working out beyond a personal goal. There were no floods of endorphins to wash away the ache, nor did his muscles sing in glory at use. That second flood of energy capable of getting someone through the second part of their day, wasn't present either.

Icy threads wormed through his layers of clothes, pass his skin and settling in deep in his bones far surpassing the natural chill of night life in Gotham. In fact, it was actually pretty warm all things considered.

'It's probably just the curry.'

Heavy streams of warmth seeped through his gloves, singing his fingers with a pleasant heat. A rather large plastic container filled to the brim with both still hot curry and rice, a simple red lid all that kept the nearby possible alley way animals from drowning him under their flea ridden fur. But despite the meal that could possibly feed himself pretty for the next few days, his stomach still churns in a way that made the food he ate that evening infinitely less appetizing.

If an alleyway creature did show it's face in this desolate ghost town of a block, then he was now even less inclined to even try fighting over the meal.

'Maybe that cat will show up now?'

Looking down a few passing alley mouths was enough to shatter than hope, it had been a good while since he came across that particularly intelligent stray. In-fact, the last he'd seen of her was the lock-down. Having just leaped out of bunker and down the alley without even a glance a backwards. A shame, petting her fur right about now would probably do him some good.

Despite having lived on the streets for an indeterminate amount of time, the feline did have some really silky soft fur.

With a shake of his head, dispelling the phantom sensation, he turned down another street and continued deeper into the disproportionately silent slice of life here on this completely Psychopomp approved street. His last conversation with Willow from just half an hour ago flashed behind his eyes….

---

All things considered, the dinner was all too bad. Sure having to deal with a woman glaring his way the entire time was a bit grating, but the food alone was already more than worth it. And for the cherry on top, Madame Clements was even nice enough to give him such a large leftover container. Nothing, and he truly meant nothing would be enough to dampen his mood that night.

Not even that ultimatum levied his way was enough, especially not with the pipping hot tupperware trying it's best to burn a whole straight through his lap.

"You buckled up?"

Willow's voice pipped up from the front seat, her brown eyes inspecting his rather contented expression through the rear view mirror.

"Yes, yes I am."

Albert chirped. The teen known for his brooding, heavily contemplative moments of silence and being paranoid to the point of doubling back multiple times just to avoid a potential mugger on his first few weeks in Gotham. Actually chirped. Like a caged cannery singing it's happy go-lucky song.

The effects of good food.

Add to the fact that he could feel both his phone and firearm back in it's place beneath a layer of leather, it only further combined with his feelings of contentment. A full stomach and the tools to defend himself, was enough to truly put him in an extremely good mood. Probably the best mood he's been in since coming to this new world.

'Maybe not,' A certain scene crossed his inner eye, a new flood of pleasant memories splashing against the stones of his consciousness. Three people huddled around a table, shrieks of exhalation, groans of completely derailed campaigns and sighs of annoyance from getting dragged into some manners of chaotic trouble. 'I still can't believe Ivy did that, Harley was pissed.'

Maybe it was the nymph getting a little bit of payback from all the times the blonde had derailed her stories, caused untold amounts of damage and completely ruined hours of preparations but that one session was something else entirely.

Falling deeper into those warm memories, completely ignoring the gentle hum of the engine and the rather smooth start to their journey back to his home. The night life passing before him turned into a mere blur, the chaos growing in intensity as they drove out of the more suburban district and out to where he could see people dressed up to enjoy their evenings. Some stumbled out of bars, others stood his long lines before extremely muscular looking bouncers that looked like they ate nothing but metallic nut for breakfast without even a splash of milk to wash it all down with.

As for why these people would go out despite the absolute dangerous cesspool Gotham was? Why they all had excited expressions on their clouded over faces? It was rather simple. This city is a dangerous cesspool, where monsters wearing human skin lurked. Where lines were blurred. Where the same people who swore to protect them were no better than some the more aggressive thugs that got their fun from tormented an unfortunate citizen. A place where the laws made were to any normal denizens benefit but to the upper echelons who called this rattrap home.

The pressure from above and below, makes people want to relax. To put down their burdens down for but a few hours, just long enough to get wasted or high and maybe get laid. Sometimes, for a few, all three. It was all meant to make them forget, to not worry and to just have fun before they woke again in the morning with a pounding headache and dread at having to go back to their mundane lives.

Okay, maybe Albert was projecting here. Heavily. But his point still stood.

"I feel the need to apologize." Willow's voice dragged him out of his brooding, that flame of joy drowned out from his very own thoughts into but a mere flicker. Yeah, Gotham really sucked a lot of the times. Even sucking out any amounts of happiness through a straw.

"What for?"

He had a pretty good idea on what, but just talking over her now would be considered rude and honestly, walking home with how active the passing sidewalks were didn't sound like the best idea in the world. Knowing his luck, he would get dragged into some mess that would leave him as a bloodied lump of flesh lying next to a dumpster like yesterdays too old leftovers.

"The Laurel acted was a bit embarrassing on our side." She started, her eyes trained on the brightly lit street before them. A few passing neon lights failing to draw her attention away. "I expected her to be a bit more composed, but it's seems I was wrong. She's usually not like that. Normally, she's a pretty agreeable person to be around...Not uptight in the slightest. She..She has a past you could say. It's not my story to tell, maybe you'll hear about it later on but just know, that wasn't the only reason she acted so childish towards you. It's the company you keep."

He wasn't all too shock at the fact they knew. They must've investigated his past vigorously for him to even have this meeting. And it also wasn't like he hid it either. Now, there were plenty of responses just on the tip of his tongue. Should he act cheeky and say what's wrong with Marceline and her group? Or maybe act clueless in a way to strike back for how the night went? But he felt acting like she was stupid would backfire pretty quickly on him, especially if her rather tense shoulders were anything to go by.

"We aren't trying to dictate who you decide to spend your time with," She assured halfheartedly, making it mightily apparent that that part was just to be polite. "The deal with Madame Clements will not be in anyway affected by who you decide to hang out with...that's something she said personally. And frankly, it's none of my business. But for Laurel...that'll be up to her to tell you one day. Just know, she'll calm down and you'll see how down to Earth she is."

Everything in this world came with a downside. Even walking gods like Superman and Flash weren't immune to this curse. Superman with the very radioactive fragments of his home holding the power to cut him down to size and the Flash with an enemy whose tied their very existence to him, making them an immortal whose sole reason for being is to make his life a living hell in any way possible.

And it seemed, that his friendship with Ivy and Harley had begun to show some consequences. Honestly, he kinda expected a visit from the Dark Knight before anything else. Some heavy interrogation and vague threats to keep him awake at night in fear of the bat themed crusader crouching outside of his home. But to have it brought up now? It kinda threw him off for a bit.

Both of them were...are villains. Responsible for the deaths and tragedy of a good chunk of Gotham's population. And those who survived or had family members or loved ones involved in one of their rampages..might do the very same research and find him. A weak, target to confront. To take advantage of, to use as a means to hurt the pair, more likely Harley, in a way resembling how they felt during that time. If things got really bad, he might even be targeted by some up and coming vigilante looking for some quick fame.

He had been enjoying the fruits of having such a friendship thus far, it was only right to accept the bad along with the good. It wasn't that Albert agreed or supported what the pair had done, or were going to do in the future. Ivy would be responsible for so much lost life in the pursuit of achieving a green Earth that it could be considered a genocide, while Harley was the muscle of one of DC's most notorious and iconic villain. Who was responsible for so much wanton death, destruction and mayhem that if had been his Earth, insanity or not the clown would be put on the chopping block without any hesitation. The amount of trauma she personally inflicted on those not apart of 'her' world with that same sadistic grin, was a mile a long and more than enough to share among hundred of people.

There was no defending, the pair are bona fide villains. Befitting of earning a spot in Batman's Rogue Gallery.

So instead of that, or trying to go on a disingenuous spiel, the instead kept his mouth shut. Willow hadn't said what she did to attack him or force him to answer for their sins but to context as to why Laurel had acted the way she did. Maybe if he was confronted about it later in the future by one of the villainesses's surviving victims, things would be different. But for now, that wasn't the case.

The pair fell into an almost palpable silence, something he more than appreciated. His face felt a bit hot, lungs swelling in preparation to...do something. It didn't feel good to have his apathy thrown in his face like that, intentional or not. In fact, it felt a bit humiliating.

And maybe a bit slimy.

'Should I really cut off my relationship with them?'

Just the thought alone was enough to cause a rather sour taste to tinge his tongue, just tossing people aside wasn't his thing. It hadn't been his thing in his old life and it for sure wouldn't change in this one. No matter how much trouble it might bring on his head.

"You must have questions and I think I can guess a pretty big one on your mind right about now."

Like a drowning man, his fingers clawing at any solid surface, Albert flailed for purchase. Anything would be better than this suffocating silence so thick that he could practically feel it against his skin. It didn't matter what they talked about now, giving him time like this to stew on the what-ifs of life was something torturous beyond belief. And spending even a second longer in this mire was like scrapping enamel off his teeth with a dull, rusty spoon.

"You can?" He croaked out a reply, body slumping in his seat. If she wanted to fill the gulf then she was more than welcome to do so.

"Each of the girls presented to you today are each specialist, most of which could make more than enough money to outright buy that house. Then why do we work as prostitutes as we do?"

While the question wasn't in the forefront of his mind, it had been when Madame Clements had first made her offer. And frankly, it didn't really make much sense. Willow could easily find work as a bodyguard to some social elite, Cedar, if her skills were to be believed, would easily find herself as a chauffeur in a stuffy organization. Alder with those medical capabilities, certified or not, could make an absolute killing in society. And Laurel…? She didn't need much explaining. Lawyers were always in high demand everywhere.

Combine the fact that they were all attractive, anyone of all levels of means would love to have them employed just as a status symbol alone.

'If they wanted to,' Thoughts spiraled down into a slow whirl, like water down a clogged drain. 'They could just cut Madame Clements out as a middle man and just work in their chosen fields.'

"I wouldn't say it hasn't come to mind."

A rather neutral answer, inching just a toe to test the waters. He didn't wish to be burned after all.

"Well first," The woman started, turning yet another corner with a smoothness that belied years of experience and absolute certainty. "To burst your bubble, not all of Madame Clements girl's are as accomplished as the ones you met tonight. Don't get me wrong, most of the girls are acquiring skills outside of..well normal skills for a prostitute to have. But they haven't reached our levels yet."

"And as for why we still work as prostitutes? It's rather simple, each of us didn't start off as these baddasses."

"Take me for example," Here, Willow let out a calming breath. Exhaling deeply while gripping the steering wheel with a white knuckled grip, shoulders tensed with strained muscles. Along with eyes that refused to glance back at him. "I come from a long line of drug addicts, think more of the 'suck a dick for a quarter' type. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's how I was born. My mom….she was something. Acted just like those people who can't function without coffee in the morning, but you know replace coffee with whatever drug could get her high enough. I only remember her being 'happy' during those few moments and she would do anything to make sure she got her fix."

"I still remember hiding out of sight of her 'clients' in a pantry, hunkering down and just knowing I was going to be stuck there for hours…" Her face became a blank mask as she drudged up those memories layered in flesh ripping hooks. Their ascent to the surface leaving behind deep furrows, tearing through jagged scar tissue as though to mock her attempts to shoving them below the surface of her notice. "And if they didn't pay her for her time? I was just the oh-so convenient punching bag if I wasn't careful enough...sometimes even if I was."

"Things got a bit worse as time went on, by the time I was in thirteen we had moved...okay been kicked around twenty times already. My mom, she got older and sicker. Maybe it was from all the drugs, partying and unprotected sex. I don't know. But it made her finding clients a lot harder and also shorten her fuse by a good bit."

Albert only sat in somber silence, an icy pit whirling in his stomach as a few possibilities passed by that inner eye. None of them good.

"I can remember that day very vividly, picture perfect in fact." A flashbulb memory, something usually associated with a traumatic event. "I had just gotten off from school early...I had never been a very good student, just couldn't sit still and was a bit prone to violence. So they suspended me for two weeks to get my act together. Walking inside, I realized a bit too late that my mom had a client...She wasn't pleased in the slightest...but her client… H-he…"

With that, he only clenched his eyes shut. As though that would do anything to shield the unfinished sentence from wriggling it's venomous knowledge deep within his brain. The only thing he could do, as a form of comfort, was to not mention that slight crack to her voice near the end.

"After he was..done." She coughed to clear her throat, straightening up to put on a facade of indifference. "My mom..if she wasn't happy before, then she was absolutely pissed. Not at the man..but at me. She called me manners of names. Slut or cock-sucking whore to name a few. And even blamed me for 'stealing' her client. After beating me bloody, she took the money he left and went out to get high or something. I don't know. All I know was that that was the last time I would see her for a long, long time."

"I waited for her, you know? To come back and comfort me for what happen, to beat me some more or...you know just be there? But after a week with no signs of her, I knew she wasn't coming back. Especially when the landlord came by to demand overdue rent...I knew for certain then that I was on my own. What else was I suppose to do? I wasn't old enough to get a job, and the jobs I could get I was more likely then not going to get shortchanged, if that...So I turned to the only avenue I knew would work…"

"That's how I spent the next six years, doing whatever I needed to survive. Students, teachers, landlords, passerby on the street, gangsters, husbands, wives, pastors, priests, police officer. It didn't matter to me, as long as they were willing to pay. Money or some sort of favor that suited my needs at the time. Sure, I could've gotten a 'real' job after I was sixteen but by then I was already earning more than flipping burgers or waiting tables would get me."

"It turns out, I was just like my mother in the end." It was a self-deprecating comment, one that didn't beg for an answer or reply. "And then, on the eve of my twentieth birthday I met Madame Clements. It was a Tuesday night, and I was scoping around for a sucker to buy me a drink for a little treat at a club I frequented every once and awhile. But instead, this woman came up to me and ordered me a drink without me having to do anything. All she wanted was a bit of my time. Let me tell you, by this point I had met plenty of crazy people. Some hyper religious nutjobs that wanted to make me into a wife or nun, some overzealous gangsters wanted me to be their gang's exclusive whore, or some even promised to leave their spouses for me. I knew how this went. Except, I didn't."

"She introduced herself as a lady of the night, her words not mine, under a pretty prestigious escort company, dealt with primarily high paying clients that paid more for the experience and the apparent exclusivity. She went by Juniper, and wished to act as my backer to join her agency. Handed me a business card. Told me if I ever got tired of rolling around in the gutter, I could call the number on the back. And with that, she left. Leaving me with a fully paid tab and a meal on the way."

"I hadn't grown to the age I was by being naive and/or stupid, that part of me had long died out before I was left to take care of myself. So, I of course, tossed the card in the trash and went on with my life… For a few days at-least. Ever since my discussion with Juniper, everything felt...unreal. The regular clients I had didn't feel the same and not even the drugs I was on at the time could shake her words out of my head. So one night, I went dumpster diving at the back of the club until I found that card."

"A single call later, I was sitting across from one of the most intimidating women I had ever come across in my life. You might not believe it, but Madame Clements has mellowed out a lot over the years. But back then, she was all hard lines and on an all too happy trigger finger. That day, she offered me a deal. Work for her for five years, and during that time she would pay for whatever I wished to pursue. And afterwards, if I wished to leave, she would not stop or hinder me in the slightest. She wouldn't even ask for the money to be paid back in anyway."

"That's how I wounded up here, trained by multiple combat specialist, ex-secret service members and veterans. Been clean for over a decade a now and even have a small bakery business set up in the city."

"That's the answer as to why I, personally, still work decide to work for Madame Clements. She was the only one willing to support me and has done right by me over the years. If it wasn't because of her….I probably would've had a kid a by now and treated them the exact same way my mother treated me."

It could be called a happy ending, but that story was still like heavily chains wrapping themselves around his ankles. The food in his stomach churned, and suddenly that spark of joy that once blazed to a roaring bonfire had been extinguished with a careless disregard. Leaving him as nothing but a depressed individual with noodles for bones.

---

The rest of the car ride was in silence thicker than ever before, but with his exhausted mind weighing heavy, Albert didn't even try to fill it. And after a farewell, he could still remember the car humming away as he shuffled home.

And now, with his home but a few steps away, his legs left like they were going to give out at any moment. He honestly didn't think he'd make it up those steep stair.

'I'll just sleep downstairs.' There were a few chairs he could grab to make a makeshift bed, 'Why even bother? I'll just take the floor instead.'

But with all that mind, there was still but a single thing to do. Not just for his own peace of mind but for the city to not be flipped on it's head as some crazy clown-girl came out swinging for the fences. Taking out his phone, he noticed a flood of unread messages and missed phone calls. Just scrolling through the texts alone was enough to tell him, that he needed to end this now before she wound up on the news.

So, with a sigh, he pried his door open while calling the overly concerned Harley.

***

"I didn't think I could still fit in this." The blonde twisted her body as she looked at herself in the cracked mirror, truly admiring the way that the leather conformed to her frame. It's red and black colors in a card like formation made it feel a bit sinister than the designers probably intended. Wearing a pair of heavy combat boots that would most assuredly shatter teeth and crack skulls with ease. All in all, Harley thought she looked pretty smoking right about now. "But...Maybe I should avoid Sal's for a bit, that was a lot of praying and hoping to get this thing on…"

"You're fine." Red wearing a pair of thin wire framed glasses, lounging off to one side called out. Her fiery red hair tied up in a messy bun as she scribbled away at a notebook that she absolutely refused to even let Harley take a little peak. Sometimes, the nymph-like women could be a real party pooper.

"Right back at cha, hot lady. But seriously, I swore it was a lot easier put this on a good year ago. It feels like I'm getting squished by Clay again, give me a few moments to breathe first."

"Then take over the corset, you really don't need it."

"But it make me look all sultry." She said huskily near the end, posing with her fingers tied up in the it's exposed cords. Even going so far as to jut her hip out to the side. "Wiggle up to them all seductively like Kitty does before...BAM! Bat to the face! Now where did I put my baby…"

"Behind the door...But are you sure you want to do this, Peanut? I won't stop you, but I think he's fine. You're sti-"

Suddenly, a single chime silenced them both. The circling argument gaining no momentum as the pair look down at the chirping phone vibrating a few times on the nearby coffee table. In a blur of movement, Harley snatched up the phone before snapping it open with wide blue eyes that blurred down the text.

"Red…" The blonde looked up at her green skinned friend, feeling both parts relieved and distraught at the events. Her shoulders slumping, and core releasing that tension, or at least it tried to. The tight leather resisted with all it's might. "Could you help me out my war suit, please?"

(A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! It got pretty dark there to be honest. I tried to add some dark elements to the story while also trying to be tasteful to any SA survivors that might read this fanfic. And honestly, I don't feel like I did it quite as well as I wanted or needed. There will be more instances of darker elements in Volume 2 and onwards. For sensitive topics like this, I will add a warning to the beginning of the chapter. With that said, thank you all for all your support! Volume 2 has official hit 100k words! First milestone of the volume! I wouldn't have been able to make it this far without you guys. Thank you again and I hope to see you all next week!)