Millions of people around the globe watched in trepidation as Doom Slayer brought a heavily burnt Harvey Dent to a hospital in Canada. All of them noted that his iconic coin was nowhere in sight.
Still, some believed that the former kingpin still had to be punished in some form, if only so his newfound remorse could be proved. Dent himself said he still deserved punishment, because he still committed those crimes himself, and Big Bad Harv (Two-Face's more aggressive half name) was born from his psyche after years of something he didn't want to disclose.
Foster's praising for Doom Slayer, while not any louder, was definitely more passionate, about how a man adept in the destruction of life could also mend the mind and soul of the broken. Amazingly enough, Wolper of all people also was happy by Slayer's action, and even agreed with his counterpart. Not surprising, given that he had been one of the many psychiatrists hired to try to get Dent to recover, and the only one who staunchly believed it could be done. The only thing he didn't like was how it happened.
"Granted, his... therapy, if it can even be called that, was a tad excessive for me, but still, it worked."
However, for all the amazement and joy, not many seemed to remember that Doom Slayer had other two Arkham patients, ones that mere aid or therapy wouldn't help to redeem, one because of her megalomania and sheer misanthropy, the other because of a much deeper issue, if one made worse by his past actions. Those who did remember, Foster among them, supposed Slayer would simply offer a token effort to the reptile man before giving up and dispatching him. They thought him as simply too wild, too feral to be redeemed in anyway, not helped by the fact he was a known man-eater (they didn't think he was human enough to be a mere cannibal, at least not anymore.).
The irony, if it could be called that, was that Doom Slayer would do everything, anything to help Waylon. Poison Ivy, on the other hand? After several years of misguided and deliberate murders, including children, and no real goal beyond wiping out mankind? Nothing occured to him aside from doing to her what Luthor
And if there was something that Doom Slayer hated nearly as much as Hell itself, after several lifetimes' worth of exterminating the forces of Hell and their collaborators, was the mere existence of those who did harm to mankind, especially those who were human, former humans, or human enough to be still considered such. That, and he knew that, deep under the scales, muscle, rage and pain, both physical and psychological, Waylon wanted people to help and accept him, and regretted being a monster, even if he wasn't afraid to lash out like one (didn't help he also had an animalistic behaviour he couldn't really control).
Ivy? Again, not so much. Despite her preaching about the evils of man against nature, and her self-appointed role of protector of the later, all she really cared for was to be some kind of queen. Her mutation and misanthropy was simply a way to channel that.
Which was why Slayer asked Grundy, who by right of being Avatar of the Green was the closest thing to a protector of it despite his overall lack of interest beyond not wanting people to die because of it, for help to deal with her. Well, him, and a certain sorceress.
"Are you sure you want to help, Rae? Just asking, because John could do it." Grundy asked Rachel as they made their way to the dungeon.
"Slayer asked me, and after meeting that man I'm starting to have my doubts about, well, the fact his soul is still in his body and all that. Not many, but there are. And besides, that bitch killed sixty children and their parents just because some lumberjacks are doing their jobs." Rachel snarled. "And the worst thing she got was being tossed in jail, instead of chair. Plus, it's been a while since I used my magic on a living human. I want to see if I got rusty."
That, and Ivy's delusions reminded her too much of Ra's.
Grundy nodded at that. "Gotham's judicial system is pretty broken. Hell, all of America's is. Back when I was Cyrus they would... I don't remember what exactly they'd done to her, but in the end she'd die anyway." In truth, he actually remembered what they did to women like Ivy, he just didn't want to tell it to a woman who suffered something disturbingly similar. That, and most of the time they didn't deserve it.
"Death would be too kind for a monster like her. God, killing children..."
"Indeed."
Finally arriving at the cells, Rachel's left eyebrow rose as she saw a familiar englishman stand next to Slayer, both in front of Ivy's cell.
"Constantine?"
Constantine shrugged. "I'm here just in case. That, and I want to see this bitch suffer in person, just like you. I mean, bloody hell, at least the others have the excuse of being loons. She's just a bitch."
None of them bothered to mention the name of a certain clown that could compare to her in sheer evil, if only because (in theory, at least) Ivy had a greater capacity for destruction.
"A bitch that will get what she deserves. So, are you two ready?" Slayer asked, prompting all of them to nod. "Remember your parts?"
"Show her how wrong she is about her so-called role, then turn her into a tree in a slow and painful manner."
"Take a bit of her essence to create another, good Poison Ivy." In truth John could do that, easily even, but again, she wanted to test herself. Plus, she was more powerful and skilled in this kind of things, thus less liable to make a mistake, something that Slayer emphatized he didn't want for Ivy. He really hated her, it seemed.
"Be here just in case they need help in either of their jobs. Also, point and laugh as the tart gets what she deserves." Everyone looked at John, who shrugged. "Someone has to, no? Plus, my inner me's been telling me that I've been too nice these last days. Being a wanker to her might shut him up."
There was also an unspoken fourth part: not speaking to Ivy directly, even if she talked to them, just to spite her; Grundy would merely show her a piece of his might and what he could do before doing his part.
"Good." With that he grabbed the door handle and opened it.
There she was, Poison Ivy herself. The days of confinement had done a number to her: her skin was paler, her hair completely disheveled, and her body was covered in bruises, product of her not giving up attempting to escape, and unlike her much sturdier fellow prisoner she didn't have anything to protect her body.
(At this point, the omniscient being reading this saga should have to have noted that the narrative hasn't used her real name.)
Speaking of Waylon, he had stopped trying to force his door the previous day, limiting himself to clawing at the walls. She had to admit it, despite his sordid past, his determination to escape was admirable, and unlike Ivy's he could theorically pull it off. Theorically.
"Wha-" That was the most Ivy could say before Grundy grabbed her by the neck. Then, after making sure she wouldn't be able to use her power, the group entered the portal to Ivy's new home: a promontory overlooking a logging camp in the Amazon.
And then Grundy raised an arm to the air.
The lumberjacks at first cried in terror and shock as hundreds of Amazon trees exploded from the soil, but then quietened down and stared in amazement as the trees didn't do anything aside from growing larger and more numerous at a fast rate, yet well away from them.
"What are those?" Constantine asked as the treeline began to grow and expand.
"Fast growing trees. Large, useful for anything and, most important of all, quick to grow. I mean, everyone and their mother needs paper. I don't see you wiping your ass with leaves."
Constantine made a disgusted face. "Not again, I'd rather die before doing that again. So, are we making her watch?"
Grundy laughed. "Make her watch? Limey, please, that'd be too easy to do, too cliché, and too kind for her. She could have done some real good and saved precious plants, but instead screwed it up." His smile then banished, and his frown deepened. "No, the punishment must be more... severe for her. Right Slayer?"
"Indeed."
Ignoring the hypocritical angry shout from Constantine, Grundy began to fulfill his part of the mission... and Ivy began to alternate between screams of agony and pleads for her life as her flesh, blood and bone were slowly, surely and painfully turned into wood and sap.
Then, after enough time passed, Rachel made her move.
"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos..."
The still human parts of Poison Ivy were engulfed by a black light, and the woman screamed even higher as something was ripped out from her body.
In the end, after hours of shrieks of excruciating agony, Ivy became the thing she said to love the most: a tree. Especifically a tree that resembled one of Grundy's. And she'd be utterly and completely aware as the teeth of the saws cut her down and the blades of the factory turned her into material for paper until the last second, all the while she tried her damnest to scream and couldn't because she lacked even a proper mouth to do so. A cruel fate? Of course. Deserved? Definitely.
And, just like with Luthor, no one but the four of them would ever know how Slayer managed to 'redeem' Poison Ivy.
Three days to end with a short chapter that does not focus at all on the sinner, that's how little I think of Arkham Ivy. Yes, she saved Gotham, but right before her death, and not for altruistic reasons.