꧁ The Assassin ꧂

It had been two weeks since the Arkham disaster, as he liked to call it. Two whole weeks, and Fish's image was still vivid in his mind. But Oswald didn't have time to worry about ghosts and monsters now, there were politicians to blackmail, tributes to collect, new rich people to rob and annoying copycats to kill. His empire had gone to ruin, anarchy had reigned among the criminals of Gotham in his absence, and it was time for him to take matters back into his own hands.
So there he was, sitting at the dining room table, now covered with files and scribbled pages of accounts, discussing with Butch what to do about the Casino and the gambling house, both run by the Duke, whom Oswald had never trusted blindly. Cold, greedy, conservative and a strong supporter of Falcone, the Duke had given him trouble from the start, trying everything to undermine his reputation, but paying tribute regularly, so as not to give him the opportunity to take him out.

A knock on the door and a familiar fake cough caught the two's attention. The Penguin rose immediately to greet the newcomer, while Butch gave him a confused look.

"Victor. Finally. Thank you for coming." Oswald said, trying to be friendly.

"You said you had a job for me." He replied coldly, going straight to the point, as usual.

"Yes. Right. Follow me." The Penguin nodded and took two steps to the door before stopping and turning around. "Wait here, Butch. We won't be long. Then we're gonna finish this conversation." He told him, then left.

Victor followed his Boss to the library, where a girl was sitting cross-legged on the armchair, typing on the computer keyboard resting on her knee, completely oblivious to their presence.

"There she is. Writing as always." The Penguin asserted, capturing the attention of the woman, who raised her head and smiled, before placing the computer on the side table and walking towards them.

"Huh?" Victor murmured confused, watching his Boss take a few steps forward with a genuine smile on his lips. He seemed really happy to see her. And she to see him. Something was clearly wrong.

"Brooke, I'm truly sorry to disturb you-" Oswald began politely.

"Never, what is it?" She immediately interrupted him.

"I'd like you to meet someone." He told her, nodding to Victor. "Brooke this is Victor. But I guess you already knew that." He continued, introducing the killer. She nodded slightly.

Victor Zsasz. Tall, bald, in a black suit, Brooke knew very well who was the man in front of her. She was looking at the most deadly and feared assassin in all of Gotham. His fame was due especially to the fact that he always completed the work, regardless of who was the target.

The man now stared at her with a totally inexpressive face, which concealed the surprise of not seeing her trembling under his gaze.

"Victor, this is Brooke, my sister." Oswald introduced her.

Victor raised an eyebrow, or at least the line on which the eyebrow normally lies but which he had totally bald, and gave him an interrogative look, the exact same one that Butch had upon hearing those words. Since when did Penguin have a sister?

"Oh my God. Why does everyone have to be so surprised? Yes, I found a sister. So what? This is Gotham after all." He exclaimed.

Brooke let out a light chuckle, while Victor grinned and shook his head, avoiding further questions of which he probably didn't even want to know the answer.

Then the woman decided to break the ice first. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She said, holding out her hand.

The assassin stared at it for a moment, then squeezed it. "Same."

"So, now that the introductions have been made, I think it's time to tell you why you're here." Oswald told them. "Victor, you're gonna train my sister." He continued, turning to him.

"What?" Brooke exclaimed.

Victor also seemed to have a surprised look on his face, but he just nodded.

"Victor is going to teach you how to fight. How to defend yourself. How to use a gun. That sort of things." He explained. The look of his sister went from surprised to rattled in a few seconds, but Oswald was undeterred. "Oh, for God's sake! There are monsters out there, Brooke. And I'm not talking just about Strange's creatures." He said, trying to be as authoritarian as possible.

Brooke sighed, sensing her brother's concern. "Oswald, I get it. Really, I do. But I can handle myself." She replied calmly, placing her hands on his arms and looking straight into his eyes. His reaction was understandable, Oswald had lost both his parents, his father recently, and now he was afraid of losing her too.

"Can you?" He asked her, the skepticism evident in his voice.

Oswald nodded to Victor, thing that did not go unnoticed by his sister. The assassin immediately pulled one of his two pistols out of the sheath, pointing it at her temple. He knew Oswald would have never let him kill the girl and, in all honesty, he didn't even want to do it. Probably, with that gesture, he just wanted to show her that she wasn't strong enough to do it on her own, not in a city ruled by monsters and criminals.
Victor was surprised when, despite the gun pointed at her head, the girl did not flinch. On the contrary, she smiled.

"That's your best plan? Having Mr. Skeleton here holding me at gun point?" She chuckled.

The assassin grinned at the sarcasm. It was a good move to use to take time and dampen the tension. Not everyone would have been able to make jokes in such a situation. The girl was smart. He liked her.

"What if I told Victor to kill you? What would you do? What could you do, hmm?" Oswald said, in a desperate attempt to prove his point.

"Nothing." She simply answered. "There's nothing I could do. There's nothing I need to do, because he's not going to kill me." She continued with confidence.

Victor kept staring at her. He was definitely amazed by her confidence in Oswald, who was clearly out of his mind, and how she could be so indifferent to the cold barrel of the gun pressed on her skin.

"How can you be so sure?" Her brother asked her again. Even he was surprised by her calm and cold blood.

"I know you, Oswald. And I trust you. You would never be able to hurt me." She replied, hinting a smile.

Oswald eventually sighed in surrender. "Yes. Yes, you're right." He said. "Lower your weapon, Victor."

The assassin put his gun back in its sheath, never taking his eyes off the girl.

"Listen, Brooke, I-" Oswald started, but he couldn't finish the sentence.

"I will let Victor train me." Brooke said. After all, a little training wouldn't hurt her, and she had always been curious to learn how to use a weapon.

Oswald opened his eyes and smiled. He knew that she had only accepted to make him feel calmer but could not help but be relieved.

Even Victor did not mind the idea. The girl intrigued him a lot.

"But I have one condition." She continued. If she wanted to go on with it, then she might as well be serious.

"Anything you want." Oswald immediately replied.

Brooke smirked, "I want in."

Both the men looked at her confused. "What? What do you mean?" Her brother asked, worried he had understood correctly.

"What I said. I'm tired of spending my life locked up here, Oswald. I want to work for you. I'm fully aware of who you are and of what you do, so I know what I'm getting myself into." She explained.

Oswald opened his mouth to speak, but not a sound left his lips.

"So? Do we have a deal?" Brooke said, holding out her hand.

The Penguin nodded and squeezed it.

·  ♛  ·

Leggings, sports bra and sneakers, Brooke was ready for her first training class. Or so she believed.
Arrived early, she had allowed herself a moment to look around. Her eyes swiftly ran over the various fitness equipment that surrounded her, some just like those of a normal gym, others a little less. They had always had a training room in the basement: Grace cared a lot about the physical shape of her children. Brooke, on the other hand, rarely set foot in there, only when the family wasn't home. The woman had always preferred the comfort of her bed to that of a hard gym rug.
Now the room was much better equipped, there were more benches, more weights, boxing bags, shooting targets, sticks, ropes, knives and firearms, which Brooke hoped would shoot blanks, otherwise she would do serious damage. The more she looked at those tools, the more she asked herself if she wasn't out of place. Before she could reconsider and leave, though, a fake cough behind her made her turn around.

Victor had stood on the doorjamb observing her for ten good minutes. Alone in that room, she looked like a fish out of water. The assassin had had a taste of her fortitude and conviction during their first encounter a few days earlier, but now his eyes only saw an innocent, pure, beautiful girl, someone who did not belong to a world like his. The thought of turning around and leaving her unspoiled was very attractive, but he had orders and had to follow them.
Brooke began to pass her fingers on the knives and the firearms, with a gentleness and lightness that did not suit them. And in that moment, Victor saw the perfect match between power and elegance. She was a wonderful and unique combination of opposites, and he wouldn't let that rotten world she was now part of ruin her. He would have taught her to fight, made her unstoppable, someone to respect, to fear even, because that was the only way she could have survived.

Victor made his presence know before stepping into the room. He was greeted with a smile and did his best to grin. "So, shall we begin?" He asked.

She nodded. Any doubt she had was gone and now she was ready to fight.