The One-Seven

Chapter 25: A House of Cards

"You can't do this! Not when I'm so close! I have to find her; I have to find my Alice!"

"Oh my god will you shut up already?"

"No! I was so close to perfecting the formula, if you only would let me return to my work, to perfect the compound-"

"Jesus Christ, Metro do you have a gag?"

"I can shove my sock in his mouth, but I'm pretty sure that constitutes excessive force."

"Ugh," Montoya groaned, as she shoved Jarvis Tetch into the waiting arms of a pair of patrol officers, "Officers, he's all yours. Have fun with him,"

Percy just snorted as the officers shoved the drug-dealing psychopath into the back of the waiting cruiser. Jarvis Tetch, also known as the Mad Hatter, had been tossed their way after video surveillance of him surfaced kidnapping a ten-year old girl. The lunatic had been kidnapping girls and experimenting on them, trying to find his own, "Alice." After nearly two weeks of hard investigation, Percy and Montoya had finally tracked the bastard down.

Percy watched as the three girls were loaded into waiting ambulances and hustled off for treatment.

"We should probably get going," Montoya sighed, "We need to get a head start on the paperwork on all of this,"

"Or," Percy said, "We go to the bar, get blindingly drunk, and try and wash the last two weeks of utter hell from our collective memories."

"I vote option two," Montoya agreed.

"I thought you might," Laughed Percy,

"Hell, why don't you give Dinah a call. Maybe if I get you drunk enough, you'll stop pussy-footing around her and actually ask her out." Montoya smirked victoriously at him. Percy just glared at his partner.

A few weeks ago, Percy had asked Dinah if she wanted to meet him for drinks with Montoya, she had said yes, and much to his chagrin, had hit it off with Montoya. The pair had taken to teaming up on Percy whenever they got the occasion. Glaring at his partner, Percy just flipped her the bird, and called Dinah. She said she had a few errands to run, but that she'd love to meet up with them after.

Percy normally wasn't a fan of going to the bar at the end of a workweek. Large crowds in tight spaces made him uncomfortable. Maybe it was the demigod in him, but you never knew when someone was going to turn into a vicious monster and start slaughtering your friends. But at the moment, Percy couldn't bring himself to care.

When Percy had first moved to Gotham, he had been excited by the prospect of finally working a proper case load. Making a difference and actually feeling like he was doing something for the good of the people. Percy had been in the city for a few months at this point, and he was starting to feel as though he were running on fumes. At any given time, Percy was running at least four different active cases.

He was beginning to feel the strain of it all. He wasn't a stranger to death by any means, but gods above Gotham seemed to be riddled with it. Percy was almost convinced that he had seen more death in Gotham in the last few months than he had in his entire time in the Legion.

Picking up his drink, Percy took a deep pull and turned his attention back to the television. The news anchor was describing how that loud mouth Percy had met with the Junior Justice League had helped save the life of the very young Queen Perdita of Vlatava.

"That reminds me," Percy said, pointing at the screen, and lowering his voice, "Any sign of the clown?"

It had been two weeks since the violent breakout of the Joker from Arkham, and the entire city still seemed to be teetering on edge. It was unlike anything Percy had ever seen before. Gothamites were cagey and paranoid by nature, but the recent few weeks was something else entirely.