Chapter 34: Whatever Doesn't Kill You...
Null woke up swinging at the air. The last thing he remembered was getting slapped around by several powerful supervillains, one of whom could neutralize half of his power set.
...And then he was mounted and pummeled by a super-strong, gorgeous redhead in a green leotard until he tasted pennies and everything went black.
It had been far from a heroic stand as well, judging by what he saw when he fully came to.
Inside of a less than spacious cell, the entirety of the Secret Six sat, sans Catman. All of them looked worse for wear. All of them wore thick metal collars around their necks.
Deadshot was the first to greet him, "Morning, sleeping beauty. At least, I think it's morning."
Null looked around at his sulking teammates, "What the hell? Where are we?" He asked, idly noticing that he and everyone else who wore a mask or some kind of cover for their head was now missing it.
"Who knows?" Deadshot shrugged, "What's the last thing you remember?"
"I lost. Bad," Null deadpanned. When he reached up to rub his aching head he noticed a pair of casings around his hands, "What the-? What are these?" He asked, clanging them together.
A metal casing around a very insulated interior. He couldn't tell all of what was inside, but his hands were snugly trapped, and any attempt to dump electricity went straight into them, even when he tried to generate it somewhere other than his hands.
Rag Doll's appearance without his mask was quite startling. Short of a few strands of hair on his head, he was bald, and covered in scars. He commented from where he sat on one of the ratty mattresses in the cell, "I imagine they're to stop you from utilizing your special abilities. Speaking of which, you wouldn't happen to be able to use them to free us, would you?"
Max attempted to focus on the metal bonds around his comrade's neck and do as requested, only for nothing to move, "Damn it."
Not only was it disappointing and frustrating that it failed, it was also terrifying in a way. Ever since he had discovered his powers, he had never been in a position where he couldn't really use them. Even on The Auctioneer's ship, he still had access to his powers. But there was no trick of the mind here.
What had happened at Gotham Docks had not been a moment of serendipity for The Society. The Secret Six had definitely been set up. There was no question about that now. How else would their captors have something like this ready for him specifically?
Null growled and started smashing the metal collar around his neck with the metal casings on his hands, "I've been on this team for a fucking day, and I already got beaten up and fucking captured!"
"I wouldn't trifle with that if I were you," A voice said. A man dressed in doctor's garb walked in front of the cell. He wore blue scrubs and a doctor's mask, with surgeon's gloves and a white surgery apron stained with blood, "The collar injects a virulent strain of botulism directly into your carotid artery. Death would be extremely painful for you."
Before anyone could say anything else, two wardens opened the cell and tossed a man's body inside. It hit the floor in an undignified heap.
One was a blond man in a forest green outfit, complete with yellow gloves, yellow epaulettes on his shoulders, and a swastika symbol in the middle of his chest. The other was the aforementioned woman Null remembered beating him up. She lad long, thick amounts of red hair, and wore a domino mask, black gloves and black boots to go with a green leotard.
The primary concern was the horrible state of their comrade, however.
"Oh, shit. Catman," Null remarked. He looked awful. Worse than the rest of them.
The cell remained open as the man concealed in medical attire kept speaking, "Catman, Cheshire, Rag Doll, Scandal, Deadshot, and Null. That is the rotation," He said, before introducing himself, "I am called the Crime Doctor, and each of you will spend an hour in my chair. In turn, that leaves you five hours rest. Then we begin again."
"Why am I last?" Null muttered to himself as he gathered Catman up to lay him in a more manageable position, "And begin what again?"
The Crime Doctor's smile was visible, even behind his mask, "Come now. You're a smart boy. I'm sure you can piece things together."
Null looked down at Catman, then up at the Crime Doctor and the blood on his clothes, then registered what he had just been told, "...Nope."
As fast as he could manage, he lunged for the door and those beyond it, only for the redhead from before to step forward and punch him in the stomach. The blow was hard enough to lift him off of the ground. Null fell to the floor holding his stomach, leaving him open for the Nazi to kick him back inside.
"Thank you, Knockout, Captain Nazi," The Crime Doctor said, also taking the opportunity to taunt Null, "Well, I guess you aren't a smart boy after all."
Null had no regrets about the consequences for his actions, "Had to *cough* try..." He reasoned. There was no way he was going to allow himself to be tortured without taking a shot at freedom first. They were going to hurt him regardless.
"You think you're the only one who did?" Cheshire griped from where she stood against the wall, looking down at Null's failed attempt.
"Your cooperation will be appreciated," Crime Doctor said, gesturing for Knockout to enter.
The red-haired villainess did so, and grabbed Cheshire by the hair. Cheshire couldn't physically hope to content with Knockout, or keep her from imposing her will. Thus, she was dragged from the cell, to the same fate that Catman had just endured.
Captain Nazi kept an eye on the rest of them, while the Crime Doctor followed Knockout, set on returning to his work of torturing them, "Sleep will be extremely difficult, but a small bit of slumber is a possibility while waiting for your turn to come again," He advised in parting, "I'm told your dreams will be of pain, however. This should multiply your discomfort by adding an additional stress component."
"Great…" Null drawled sarcastically, leaving him and the other four remaining members of the team in the cell.
"What did they do to you, Blake?" Deadshot asked, "You look like shit."
Catman weakly dragged himself up to his feet by the bars of the cell, "Electroshock torture, and drugs that keep you from going out. Also makes the pain feel worse somehow."
Null perked up at one part of that statement, "Electroshock torture?" Even if he couldn't dredge up his powers, someone using electricity on him shouldn't have done anything.
Rag Doll was quick to shut down any positivity on Null's part, "I'm certain if they had your restraints prepared, they'll have a different form of torture ready for you."
Null probably knew that without being told. All the same, he didn't appreciate it being pointed out, "Jeez, you could at least try to leave me with some kind of hope."
"Hope's for losers," Deadshot remarked, focusing on Null when he saw the boy prod at every corner of the cell he could touch, "What the hell are you doing, kid?"
Null didn't bother looking his way, instead continuing to search around, "Seeing as how I really don't feel like finding out what they're going to do to me when it's my turn, I'm looking for a way out," He said, as though it were obvious, "And if it's through there, I'm gonna bust that guy's head like a coconut."
Captain Nazi heard him and scoffed, "Good luck with that," He then muttered something in German that the others figured was unsavory.
Scandal watched as Null scrambled to find something, anything to help, "We've tried that already," She said, trying to get him to stop scurrying around like a trapped rat.
"Yeah? Well, I didn't try, and you aren't me," Null replied. He wasn't a quitter. If he had five hours to find a way out, he'd use every second.
It was then that the screaming of pain started from Cheshire. Null promptly doubled up on his efforts to find a way out.
Scandal sighed and allowed him to continue. If that was how he wanted to spend his time, he was free to do so, "You should save your strength. I feel like we'll all need it," She offered before letting him be.
XxX
Five hours came and went. Null watched the remainder of his teammates get dragged off by super-strong villains, and return an hour later, physically ravaged. The entire time they were gone, he could hear their suffering. The yells, screams, curses, and cries. All of them - man and woman. Not a one of the Secret Six was able to remain quiet.
Finally, it was his turn.
Without access to his power, he had the strength of a teenager. A very athletic, strong, and healthy teenager, yes, but nothing outrageous. That wouldn't do against the likes of Captain Nazi and Knockout - both notably superhuman, to say the very least, capable of lifting tons each. Between the two of them, they were easily able to subdue him and drag him down the hall to the torture room.
Once he was properly bolted down to a gurney, all Null could do was watch as the Crime Doctor puttered around the room, preparing to do his work.
Nearby, vials and syringes of some kind of drug were sitting. The Crime Doctor picked one up, filling it with the serum within, and injected it into Null's neck, "No worries just yet. This little pharmaceutical trifle is simply to enhance your pain," He said.
Null tried to struggle, but could barely move. A nurse assisting the Crime Doctor prepared his arm for the injection, presenting the vein. Once more, he tried to call on his powers to help him struggle, but nothing.
While he continued preparing Null, the Crime Doctor kept conversing, as though none of this mattered to him, "Your comrades received electroshock torture. We won't be doing the same for you, for obvious reasons, so I've had to prepare something different for you."
To Null's nervous ears, 'different' meant 'worse', "-Or you could just shock me. If you blocked my powers, it'll work on me like anyone else," He offered, before berating himself for betraying that information, 'Why did I tell him that!?'
The Crime Doctor and his nurse slid Null and his backboard off of his gurney into a large machine that looked like a pill with an observation window, "That's good to know, but I think we'll just go ahead and play it safe with this. Tell me, are you familiar with a hypobaric chamber?"
Null looked at his new surroundings and raised an eyebrow, "...No?" He said, just as he was shut in. The door closed with a hiss.
"It's quite interesting, really," The Crime Doctor continued speaking casually as he started bringing up settings on the machine, "Oftentimes, it's used to simulate the certain environmental effects on the human body. These machines have quite a few options. I can adjust temperature, humidity, and these are fun little aspects, true. But the main thing you should concerned with is the oxygen."
Null craned his neck to look around, and saw vents that were feeding air into the pod. Otherwise, it was airtight. Without them, he wouldn't have received any air at all. He didn't need to be a genius to catch the implication. He struggled anew, but it was all for naught.
The Crime Doctor spared a glance to the boy's struggle, but was otherwise unaffected, "This one is modified. We're going to replace the oxygen content in the air with carbon dioxide to the point that it feels like you're suffocating. If your brainwaves slow, meaning you're about to pass out, then we'll turn up the O2 instead," He explained, as it was important to him that Null knew what he was in for, "If your heart rate slows, meaning you're able to catch your breath, we'll suck it back out and filter in the CO2 again. And that's where we'll leave you."
All Null could do was stare up at his tormentor in horror, "Oh, you dick."
With that, the Crime Doctor hit the button that put the settings into effect, "Quite."
Within a second, the oxygen was sucked out of the chamber, leaving Null bug-eyed and gasping. He writhed and strained, fighting for some kind of feeling of comfort, yet there was none. There was no relief. It was like being caught in a limbo of suffering on the mortal plane. True to what he was told, he got just enough to keep him from blacking out, and his lungs strained to take whatever it could get.
"Enjoy the next hour," The Crime Doctor said, not that Null was listening at this point, "Just so you know, I plan to use your sessions as time to rest from dealing with your allies. I appreciate the reprieve," He said, pulling out a cigarette to smoke as he watched his 'patient' suffer.
And so, this was Null's world for the next sixty minutes.
XxX
When it ended, and Null was finally freed from the hypobaric chamber, and from his restraints, he didn't even have the strength to put up a belligerent fight as he was dragged down the hall back to his cell.
"Didn't the time just fly by?" Captain Nazi taunted with laughter, "You spent the whole time gaping like a fish trapped on shore!" He proceeded to mock Null's face, and the sounds he made while being tortured.
It was an appropriate comparison. Even then, once he was out, Null couldn't catch his breath. It still felt like he was being strangled. When he was hurled through the open door of the cell and bounced off of the back wall, he didn't even bother trying to protect himself from landing on his head on the floor.
The commotion gave Captain Nazi the chance to sucker-punch Catman and drag him off for his next turn in the hands of the Crime Doctor.
Null just twitched on the floor, body shaking as heavy wheezing escaped his throat.
Deadshot peered over from his mattress at where Null landed, "The kid doesn't have a mark on him," He said, moving a bit closer to look at his face, "He's fucking blue. I couldn't hear him scream. What the fuck did they do?"
Scandal rolled Max to his back, and cursed at the discoloration of his skin, "Cyanosis," She said, defining his physical state. She went to work helping him breathe as best she could, "Max? Max. Breathe. Full breaths. Slow. Easy."
It took fifteen minutes for Null to recover enough to string six words together that could actually be heard, "He... He never asked me any questions…"
XxX
(Two Days Later – New York City)
Whenever Selina went to New York, she tended to stay in Manhattan. With all of the money floating around, the designer boutiques, the high-quality jewelry, and more, it was more her area of town. Today, however, she found herself venturing into Brooklyn.
Max was gone. He had been gone for two days. The last thing she knew he'd done was check into a hotel and never come back to it. From there, it was anyone's guess as to what had happened.
She didn't think anything bad had happened, because she figured there would have been much more of a mess if someone decided to go after him – a trail for her to follow, as it were. There was no such thing. Thus, Selina began the process of knocking on doors, so to speak.
Unfortunately, Max really didn't have any friends Selina could contact. He had a lot of enemies though, which didn't help. Except, in one case, an enemy of his was a friend of hers.
…Enemy might have been too strong of a word to use, but Selina didn't know what else to call 'guy-Maxie-tricked-into-getting-him-to-teach-him-how-to-fight', and that didn't exactly roll off of the tongue.
This was how Selina found herself walking through a gym of aspiring boxers and other fighters, straight to the back office of one Ted Grant – Wildcat.
Ted looked up immediately when he saw the beautiful woman enter, "Selina!" It had been quite a while, but he had never forgotten her from back in the day, "Been a while, hasn't it?"
"It has, Ted. It has," Selina said, sitting down at Ted's desk.
Ted leaned back in his chair and gestured to his surrounding, "So, what brings ya to my humble place'a business?"
"I'm looking for my ward," Selina said, "I haven't heard from him in a few days. Not since I turned him loose in New York while I took care of a trade issue of mine."
Ted's cordial smile quickly vanished, "Oh. Really wish you'd stop by just 'ta say hey one a' these days."
Selina decided to play half-dumb for the sake of drama, "You know something?"
"The Null brat, right?" Selina nodded, trying to hide a smirk. Ted continued with a sigh, "I wish I'da never met that kid'a yours..."
It hadn't been a good time for others when Null's name first started drifting into Ted Grant's news feed. A few months after seeing the boy on his way, hoping he'd trained someone that would make an impact, it turned out that he did… just not in a good sense.
Many men and women training at Grant's Gym had a tough go of things when trying to approach the owner/head trainer that day.
Selina wrinkled her nose in distaste, "The way you put it, you make it sound like I gave birth to him."
Ted scoffed at her, "Maybe not the actual kid. But the criminal? Yeah, you're definitely his crime-mommy," He needled, knowing that such a title would definitely get to her.
"Okay, yes, he's mine. I claim him," Selina said, begrudgingly conceding to Ted's statement, "Where is he?"
Ted's eyebrows raised high in surprise, "Haven't seen him," He hadn't been aware Null was missing. He hadn't heard anything about Null in some time, actually. Selina gave him a skeptical look, "I haven't, Selina. New York is a big place. Even if he suited up, it's a big chance I'd never hear of anything he did. Which is good for him, seeing as how I owe 'em a smack."
"You and me both," Selina muttered, fingertips drumming off of the desk in frustration, "Where the hell could he be?"
XxX
(With Null)
They hadn't been kidding about the torture rotation. Every hour, it was someone else's turn. Every six hours, all of them were cycled through to start anew, without fail. Honestly, it was kind of a credit to the Crime Doctor's stamina, as he was the chief operator of each session from start to finish.
Everyone was bloody and dirty. Injured not just from the torture, but from trying and failing to fight back without weapons, or in Null's case, powers, against powerhouses, all in vain. They had even stopped posting guards, only coming by when they needed to return someone and grab a new victim.
Once rotation time reared its ugly head once more, Captain Nazi tossed brutalized Catman down on the floor roughly, his turn being complete, "You! Asian girl!" Captain Nazi turned to grab for Cheshire, who tried and failed to scurry away, then to fight when he got his hands on her, "Your turn."
In a matter of moments, she had been taken away again, and all the rest could do was wait for the inevitable screams. When they started, Catman pressed his hands to his ears to try and block it out.
"I tried that," Deadshot remarked, "It didn't help."
Catman frowned. He knew that, but it helped to at least try to block out the sound, "Coming down with a case of humanity, Lawton?"
Deadshot glared across the cell at his teammate, "Don't push it, Blake. I haven't had a smoke in two days."
Rag Doll ignored the tension, instead choosing to remark on their complete lack of any kind of progress towards escaping, "So, is our plan simply to stay and be slowly tortured to death? I'd rather hope not," He snarked.
Scandal simply shook her head, "It doesn't make any sense..." She said, more to herself than to anyone else in the room, "They must have a dozen telepaths on their team. They could read us like newspapers. And what little we do know can't possibly be of any use to them."
Catman pulled himself up using the bars of the cell, glaring hatefully outside of it, "It's not about our knowledge. It's about our value as a deterrent to anyone else who decides not to play along."
Bad guys didn't play nice. The Society likely used similar methods of getting their people to work for them as Mockingbird did for the Secret Six, just on a larger scale. And even if they didn't, it would be well worth the time to set an example of what could and would happen to anyone who didn't fall in line and go with the established villainous order.
Null angrily grit his teeth and clenched his fists inside of his restraints. No wonder he was never asked any questions. Maybe they knew that he was so brand new, he didn't know anything. He wasn't even that familiar with everyone else on the team. They were just hurting him because he was there, because he wasn't with them, even thought he'd never been floated an invitation in the first place.
'Would I have even taken it in the first place?' Null asked himself, closing his eyes in thought, 'Maybe I'd have turned it down, and then I would have wound up here anyway. Who knows?'
It didn't matter now. He was there and suffering either way.
"So, did you break, Catman?" Deadshot accused. To the untrained eye, he seemed calm and cool, but a glance at his fingers showed frantic movement of his trigger fingers. His feet tapped on the edge of his mattress constantly, "-Because you're talking like you did. Get an extra dessert, maybe?" He stood up when Catman refused to even turn to face him, "I got a lot riding on this, so did you break?"
At first, Catman didn't respond. Eventually, he glanced over his shoulder at the jittery gunman dangerously, "Lawton... we're all going to make a deal, right this minute. From now on, no one asks that question again."
XxX
(Roughly One Hour Later)
"In your restraints, mongrel!" Captain Nazi bellowed, harshly throwing Scandal against the Crime Doctor's 'operation' table. In the same practiced manner that everyone had become accustomed to, Scandal was quickly bolted down and was tended to by an electric baton.
"Thank you, Captain," The Crime Doctor said, dismissing the villain. The aforementioned tool of this trade in his hand, he turned it on.
Just the sound of the weapon activating now caused Scandal to flinch. That was to say nothing about the horrible zapping noise that she equated with the feeling of electricity coursing through her body. A favorite target of the Crime Doctor was the head. All of the Secret Six subjected to this treatment could say the same – the man liked shocking them in the head.
As per usual, Scandal held off from screaming for as long as she could. She didn't want to give any of them the satisfaction. But eventually, she gave in and let her voice ring out, "AAAAAHHHHHH!"
"I hope you realize, we've only just really started," The Crime Doctor said, putting the baton down temporarily to grab something else from his tray of instruments, "You have disfigurement, bloody blisters of the scalp, and even permanent nerve damage to look forward to."
Scandal breathed heavily, being given a moment without pain. That temporary relief gave way to fear when she saw the Crime Doctor pick up a scalpel and bring it towards her face.
She tried to pull away, all the while the Crime Doctor mimicked making cuts at the corner of her mouth, "Sometimes, the patient screams so hard, her mouth tears open, right here, along the sides. It makes a little, wet popping sound," He chuckled to himself at her reaction before throwing the scalpel aside, "Now let's continue!"
XxX
While everyone sat or laid around the cell normally, it seemed Rag Doll preferred contorting his body into grotesque positions, "Waiting for the screams to start is almost as bad as hearing them in the first place," He said.
Null couldn't help but agree. For the most part, he didn't like harming others, or seeing others in pain. It was reason why he mostly chose thefts where at most, he'd have to smack around a few hired thugs for some criminal.
While hearing all of the screams may have affected everyone's psyche in that they thought about it happening to them, to Null, he felt empathy. He felt bad for everyone else when he heard them cry out. Other than Deadshot, none of them had personally done anything to him, and Null had mostly gotten over that by then. Sure, Cheshire had been unpleasant, but nothing worth torturing her over for the better part of two whole days.
Speaking of Cheshire, it was during this time, in Scandal's absence, that she cracked. In front of all of them, she began to sob, face in her hands.
It was such a foreign sight. None of the men in the cell knew what to do about it, "Cheshire?" Catman went to reach out
Before he could touch her, Cheshire glared out from between her fingers, "Don't look at me!" She snapped, crying her eyes out involuntarily, "There are no tears... no tears."
It was awkward, unpleasant, and simply served as another awful thing brought upon them since joining the team.
Some team. Six strangers thrown together to work for some shadowy figure that considered them expendable enough to pit them against a supergroup of villainy. They didn't even have a single reason between them to be there. All of their motivations were their own, but the only similarity they all shared was that they were working against their will.
Null realized this, and he wasn't the only one either.
In the midst of Cheshire's attempts to quell her own sobbing, Deadshot spoke up, "The neighborhood. Mockingbird said he'd level it."
"What?" Null asked, not understanding at first.
"-Where my daughter and her mother live," Deadshot continued, explaining himself further, "Mockingbird'll destroy it if I tell him to fuck off. That's why. The Six, I mean. That's why I'm here."
That was three of the reasons for people being there down. Catman for revenge. Null and Deadshot to make sure nothing happened to the few people they actually cared for.
With Deadshot's admission, the floodgates opened for Rag Doll, "He's... he's got something I need. Something I can't live without," He said, being vague before launching into his story, "My father, and my brother... they had a beautiful gift from God. They were triple-jointed, like unbreakable, lovely, raggedy dolls. My father was horribly disappointed in me though, a normal baby, lacking the family gift," A scowl crossed his scarred features, "I regret to say, he was not a kind man. Not a kind man at all."
Null nodded along as he listened. It seemed most villains came from some kind of less than desirable situation. Go figure, bad circumstances bred people willing to do bad in return.
Rag Doll continued, "So, I, over a dozen years, and hundreds of surgeries, had my joints replaced with fully rotating, self-lubricating implants," He displayed the effects of this by continuing to contort himself, "I should have died many times over, but now, I'm more pliable, more limber than they could ever imagine being."
His revenge was being better than his family. Even if he had to turn his body into a medical experiment in order to do it.
From his position as a human pretzel, Rag Doll ran his fingers over his face, "But my skin, you see? My lovely scarred flesh. I need a special chemical emollient, or my bones will tear right through, and my beauty will end. Mockingbird gives just enough each day, and not a drop more. He is not a kind man either, I'm afraid."
So that was four of six now. Actually, five of six, because Deadshot was quick to bring up Cheshire's circumstances in an effort to commiserate with her, "And he's got that thing in your kid's skull. Right, Cheshire? That bomb."
"Move on to another discussion," Cheshire immediately demanded.
Null couldn't really blame her. Such a thing had to be a touchy subject, even when she was in the best of moods and conditions, "Well, you all know what he told me about. You were there for it," He said, doing his part to try and establish some kind of rapport with the others. He would have kept trying to chat, but there was a distinct lack of something that until then had been ever-present, "Wait. Do you guys hear that?"
Cheshire stopped wallowing in misery to try and fix onto what Null was talking about, "I don't hear anything."
"For the first time since we've been here," Rag Doll established, making sure everyone else immediately picked up on the same, "Scandal stopped screaming. Why would she stop?"
Deadshot could think of one reason, and it involved screwing over his entire reason for enduring for as long as he had, "She'd better be dead, or I'll be pissed."
Whatever it was, couldn't have been a good sign, which Catman recognized, "Either way, we're running out of time," He sat down next to the green-clad woman, setting a hand on her shoulder to try and settle her, "Cheshire, think. These collars inject a poison. Poisons are your life."
In the time between being inducted into the Secret Six, and getting the mission that landed them in captivity, Null had done his due diligence and studied up on his new friends as best he could.
While there wasn't much on Rag Doll, nothing at all on Scandal, and all of the coverage Catman had didn't seem to add up to what the man was now, there was a litany of material on Deadshot and Cheshire.
Both were notorious mercenaries, but whereas Deadshot preferred just blowing his target's brains out, Cheshire preferred the more classical touch of hidden blades and poisons. To say she was supposedly an expert would be downplaying her abilities.
"Botulism... Clostridium Botulinum," Cheshire muttered to herself, her mind beginning to work, "It starts from a germ in the soil. The foodborne version starts there. It could be Pamela Isley – Poison Ivy... her idea of a joke," She eyed the device around Catman's neck. The one that would be the death of him if it was activated, "The collar and trigger are electronic. Insulated where it touches the skin. Probably injects the drug directly into the bloodstream."
So, it came back to electricity, again. Null would have been able to sense that the collars were electronic if his own powers weren't muted due to the restraints and the lack of his supersuit. He looked at his hands, fretting over a decision to make.
As he thought to himself, Scandal was returned to the cell. She kept gazing back at Captain Nazi, who escorted her with a smile on his face.
To say she was confused would have been an understatement. The Crime Doctor had just stopped in the middle of his torture. No, not even the middle, really. They had gone barely twenty minutes before he just stopped and left her alone. She had never told him anything. Ten more minutes, and he had her released from her restraints.
Allowing her to enter the doors with a gesture, it quickly became clear to her what they were after, "Rest well, young lady. The doctor gives you his gratitude."
Those booby-trapped words worked their magic immediately.
Before she could even say or do anything to defend herself, a pent-up Deadshot was up, pinning her against a wall by her throat with his forearm, "Lady, if you sold us out, then I guess making you pay gives me a new reason to live through this," He growled.
"Deadshot, wait!" Catman exclaimed, prompting Deadshot to cease with his threats for the time being. It was clear to him what was happening, "It's a setup. It's not just our defeat they want. They want us to splinter."
Even if she was being tortured, even if she probably knew more than the rest of them to tell, given her position as a go-between for Mockingbird and the rest of the Secret Six, she had never seemed the type to be a quitter.
From what Catman had surmised about Scandal's character, if anyone was going to fold first, no one would have slated her to be the one to do it.
Plus, Captain Nazi had done nothing to stop the fighting, not seeing it as a ploy against them. More like it was expected. He didn't even bother trying to hurry the next person along. In fact, he didn't say anything until it was clear that hostilities had died down. He seemed put out by it.
"Next," He demanded of the next individual in the torture rotation. Instead of who was intended, Catman walked forward to the edge of the cell, "I was talking to Deadshot. It's his turn for an appointment with the doctor."
"I know," Catman admitted, willing to allow himself to be taken, "But I don't think the doctor will mind too much if I take his place this time around," Before being escorted away, he spared a look back at the Secret Six, "Rest up, Deadshot. And keep your head," He advised.
And that was it. Deadshot's paranoia and rage fell away, and he plopped back down on the mattress on the floor. Scandal rubbed her throat, looking in the direction Catman had left in. Even Cheshire seemed to have a shred of respect for what Catman had just done.
"Definitely different than before," Cheshire said, under her breath.
Meanwhile, Null had come to a decision.
Catman had the guts to sacrifice, just to make sure the team didn't turn on itself; just to give them a bit more time, a bit of a fighting chance. He didn't know any of them, and probably didn't like any of them, but realized that he had to give something up to keep them together, because being together was the only chance they had to survive.
Null knew full well that no one was going to come and save him. He didn't have Kara on speed dial here to fly in and bust up the joint. Selina wasn't going to swoop in with the solution to his problem. Someone who was there had to do something. He had the power to do something, he just had to give up something to let it out.
"…Rag Doll?" Null eventually asked in a muted, blank voice.
None of them had ever heard him sound so defeated, yet determined. He normally sounded more exuberant, like the child he was.
"Yes, Null?" Rag Doll responded, curious as to what it was that would so abruptly change things.
Null stood and held up his hands, covered in the restraints, "If you had these on, could you get out of them?"
Rag Doll leaned in, studying them thoroughly, specifically where they ended, just beyond his wrists, "Yes. I believe they wouldn't cause me too much trouble. Unfortunately, you lack my ability to-."
That was all Null needed to hear. He affixed one of restrained hands in the tight squeeze between the sturdiest pipe he could find, and the wall, quickly turning his entire body in a sharp jerk, as hard as he could.
*CRACK!*
Everyone leapt to their feet as Null started screaming, "Kid, what the fuck!?" Deadshot exclaimed.
"STOP TALKING!" Null screamed before repeating the same process with his other hand. He couldn't stop and think about it, otherwise he'd never go through with it.
*CRACK!*
He'd been contemplating it for a full day. The problem had been that, in addition to his not having the courage to go through with it until right then, they hadn't been left alone until Catman's spur-of-the-moment switch with Deadshot.
Thus, with Catman's own decisive move, Null had decided to follow suit. One good turn deserved another, even if it hurt like hell.
The deed done, Null dropped to his knees, face falling into the closest mattress as tears poured out of his eyes. His arms rested by his sides, hands still covered in his restrains. Null turned his head and howled at the shocked spectators before him, "PULL 'EM OFF! PULL 'EM THE FUCK OFF! NOW!"
What were they waiting for? It wasn't like he could do it himself.
Being the physically strongest remaining in the cell, Deadshot nodded grimly and kneeled down by Null's side, taking one of the restraints into his hands. He got his fingers in under the edge and winced, "These aren't gonna just slide off, kid," He warned Null, "You're going to lose a good chunk of the skin off of your hands."
The teenager gazed over his shoulder at Deadshot incredulously. Did it look like he was concerned with tearing his skin to shreds at the moment? It was a little late to be concerned with a little collateral damage, "I'm not going back in that room again! Not one more fucking time!" None of them were, "Get. Them. Off," He demanded through his teeth.
A man could make his own choices, and from the decision he'd just made, Deadshot couldn't say that Null hadn't attempted to man up, "Make a wish, or think of home, or something, kid. Here goes."
It was bloody, bitter work. Null's blood from the ends of the restraints tearing his flesh actually helped the process along by slicking everything up. Through it all, he howled and sobbed, and the other four members of the Secret Six present watched. Scandal even stepped in to hold Null down when he started thrashing and kicking his feet so Deadshot had sturdy, still limbs to work with.
Eventually, the work was done. Null's hands were free, and he was left with two hands, limp below the wrist, flesh mangled. And he'd done it to himself.
"Jesus..." Deadshot muttered at the sight of the finished product. He himself was covered in Null's blood.
But now, Null's power was viable once more. Proving this, he channeled his electricity and shorted out the collar around his neck. The mechanisms fell apart and off of his body altogether.
"Put 'em back," Null whispered weakly. It hurt so much. It would have anyway, but Crime Doctor's special pain-enhancing serum made it so much worse, "Someone put 'em back in place. Please, just... get it done so we can get out of here."
The rest of the Secret Six who saw Null's actions, and realized he planned on doing the exact same to their collars felt a thrill of hope run through them. Now it was time for some good, old-fashioned payback.
XxX
Catman calmly lay in place as he was restrained at the Crime Doctor's table. The ever-present female nurse who was way too giddy to assist in the torture of the Secret Six put his bonds in place. Not once did he show any sign of resistance. It was the most placid preceding to a torture session there had been thus far.
The Crime Doctor oversaw preparations. Captain Nazi had long since left the room to go and entertain himself. Guard duty was beginning to drag for the villains posted there. Fortunately, the doctor had tormenting the captives to keep himself entertained.
"It was quite a surprise to hear that you wanted to take Deadshot's place in the rotation," The Crime Doctor said, making the same idle conversation he always did before laying into them, "Oh well then."
No matter what though, Catman remained cool, calm, and collected, "Predators and scavengers, doctor. That's what the wild is made of. I look into your eyes, and I don't see you as a hunter. You pick the bones the fighters leave behind, doc? Is that your speed?" He asked rhetorically, even when the Crime Doctor grabbed the shock baton, "Of course, there is one last category."
The Crime Doctor hummed, making a show of sparking up the baton, "Poetic delusions. Interesting. I can fix that, I believe."
Catman didn't flinch, even as it came closer, "Prey, doctor. You're only prey."
Part of the far wall seemed to move, something that Catman had caught sight of for quite some time. Without warning, a figure camouflaged as the wall came forward and grabbed the Crime Doctor and the nurse by the head, shocking both of them until they collapsed to the floor.
"How do you like that?" The camouflaged Null said, sparing a petty kick with the tip of his boot to the kidney of the downed Crime Doctor. He looked up at the trapped Catman and smiled, "Hey, Catman."
"Good to see you, Null," Catman said with a smirk, taking note of a bag that Null had with him, filled with his equipment, "Those for me?"
"These are for you," Null reached out and shorted out Catman's collar before releasing him, "...I think we can spare some time if you want to-."
"-Fantastic," Catman didn't even let Null finish his offer to let him get his pound of flesh back from their demented tormentor.
Null rolled his eyes. At least he had the good grace to put his gear back on before opening a can of whoop-ass, "We've been here for two days. I'm sure the two minutes it'll take to beat the shit out of this guy won't hurt us any more than he already did."
Catman pulled his gloves tightly over his fists, unveiling claws in the knuckles, "Trust me. I won't need two minutes."
Seeing that he was fine, Null shuffled on outside and ran into Captain Nazi, apparently returning to continue his shift. Seeing Null outside of his cell and fully dressed, left him dumbfounded, "Hi," Null greeted.
"You," Captain Nazi clenched his fists, beginning to seethe at what this meant, "How did you get out?"
"Don't worry about that," Null said. His wrists still hurt to an unbelievable degree, and he had maybe 30% full range of motion and strength in his hands at best, but it would do for now, "Everyone else is gearing up right now, so it's just you and me at the moment."
Captain Nazi scoffed, and began to square off with the younger man, "I suppose you feel strong now because you have your suit, child."
Null gestured, arms out wide, "I have my suit, and you don't have a ten-man advantage. Then again, I have been getting my ass kicked for two days," He said, trying to goad Captain Nazi into taking him on without calling for backup, "So, how about it, Colonel Klink? Do you want a shot at the champ?"
"Filthy inferior brat," Captain Nazi spat hatefully.
They stood off against one another until a scream emanated from the torture room, presumably from the Crime Doctor being dealt with by Catman. That was the cue for them to rush one another.
He and Null rushed forward and clashed, testing each other's strength, trying to overpower each other with their fingers intertwined in a knuckle-lock. It was a clash that Null was steadily losing, even when he activated his electricity and tried to shock him, "Ha! You think that is all it takes to beat me!?"
The needles of several syringes then promptly floated around Captain Nazi's head and skewered his eyes. The plungers subsequently pressed down, injecting its contents into him.
Captain Nazi immediately broke his grip with Null and fell to the floor, mouth wide open in horror, body twitching in shock. He didn't even scream.
Null stood over the fallen criminal, observing his handiwork when a dressed Catman exited the torture room, blood, presumably from the Crime Doctor on his hands, "Were those the syringes with the pain serum in them?" He asked, upon seeing Captain Nazi's eyes.
"Yep," Null said, intentionally popping the 'p'.
Catman nodded in appreciation of Null's apparent mean-streak, "Beautiful."
"Not the word I'd use," Null replied, magnetically lifting the disabled Captain Nazi to carry along with them.
The two quickly reunited with the others, all outfitted in their gear, standing by the open doorway to a side room where the rest of the guards were sitting and relaxing.
Knockout, Killer Frost, Weather Wizard, Count Vertigo, and Sledge.
Well, what did you know? This time around, they had the numbers advantage.
They didn't have to go in. The room didn't lead anywhere, and they could continue working their way out of the facility, without fighting at that moment. But as they looked in at several of the supervillains that had defeated them and brought them in to be tortured, they could all feel the ire built up inside of them.
Deadshot was the first to voice these thoughts aloud, "Any of you guys in love with leaving like this?" He asked, getting a round of grave, angry faces from the rest, "Thought not."
Null took aim at Knockout and used his magnetic grip on Captain Nazi to launch him right at her as hard as he could, headfirst like a missile. Skull connected against skull, and before anyone in the room could fully understand what had happened, the rest of the Secret Six were upon them.
Catman used the claws in his suit to slice the massive, super-strong Sledge's face up before he could even turn around to face the danger.
Deadshot stepped in, firing full-auto from the guns mounted on his wrists, "Better stay back, lady," He said, making sure to stay in front of Scandal as he provided covering fire for the others, "The real work's goin' down. Stay where I can watch you."
With the element of surprise, the fight was quick and decisive. There was a reason the rest of the Six had been chosen, because when it came down to it, they could handle business.
Weather Wizard was one of the first to really respond appropriately, pulling out a wand with smoke trailing from it, "I'll cook you like an egg on the sidewalk, Catman!" He said, taking aim while Catman was otherwise preoccupied, "A very naughty egg indeed!"
Just as he fired a blast of fire from the tip of the wand, Cheshire grabbed him from behind, diverting his shot to barely singe Catman's chest, while Killer Frost took the brunt of it. Cheshire then extended Weather Wizard's arm and lifted her knee to snap it at the elbow.
Rag Doll did his best impression of a python with his unnatural contortion abilities, wrapping his arms and legs around Count Vertigo, binding him, choking him, and bending him out of shape, "This may be a bit overfamiliar, Count Vertigo. Sorry!"
Null leapt over them and landed on Sledge's head, pulverizing it into the floor. He made a point to vindictively grind his heels into the back of his head before jumping off.
As quick as the overall fight was, the commotion attracted reinforcements.
A were-hyena bounded through the doorway, followed by a woman with long brown hair and pointed ears entered, wearing a black bodysuit and green armor, carrying a halberd, "You people dare threaten my teammates? These scum belong to me!"
Before she could continue bloviating, Scandal, of all people, pounced on her, taking her to the ground and, in a move more in line of what the others would have expected of the were-hyena, biting off her ear.
As the were-hyena went to pounce, Null magnetically grabbed the weapon that had been dropped and used it to impale the monster, pinning it to the wall.
"Look, ma, no hands," Rag Doll said dryly as Scandal continued beating the woman on the ground, "...Understand? Because Null threw Fatality's weapon without hands... and because earlier, he dislocated his hands."
"We get it, Rag Doll. We were all there!" Deadshot said, still annoyed despite the fact that he and the Secret Six had wrecked their competition. Even the one they all figured was just there to tell them what to do. Clearly someone didn't need the rest of them to chaperone her once the fighting started after all.
"Man, Scandal..." Null said observing the beating Scandal was still giving Fatality, "...I didn't exactly expect you to bite someone's ear off, Little Miss Go-Hard," At that point, Scandal stopped pummeling Fatality and got up, "That was metal as fuck. I can't even see where you spat it."
"That's probably because I swallowed it," Scandal said matter-of-factly, walking right past him.
The frank response left Null wide-eyed, "Jesus Christ, I'm out of my depth here."
Scandal scoffed, "I don't want to hear that from the boy who dislocated his own wrists and risked peeling off his own hands to escape." She had a point, and yet, even so, he didn't bite a person's body part off. With that, she marched directly up to Deadshot and went eye-to-eye with him, "I didn't betray you people."
Rag Doll shrugged, gesturing to the wake of her violence as evidence, "She makes a compelling case with that ear thing, don't you find?"
"Fine," Deadshot grumpily agreed, lifting his guns to take aim at all of the villains that were still able-bodied enough to writhe on the floor, "I got a bullet for each eye of anyone stupid enough to move, clear?"
No one capable of hearing him tried to get up.
Satisfied that his point was made, Deadshot spared a glance over to Catman, who was currently dealing with the issue of Cheshire hanging all over him, "Blake... I'm not much for owing people things-."
"-It's fine, Deadshot," Catman insisted, more concerned with whatever fascination Cheshire had for him now, "Do you mind?"
Cheshire purred, rubbing Catman's chest from behind, "When we get back to the house, Thomas Blake, you're going to give me something. I think you'll like it."
The amorous byplay was interrupted by an irritable teenager.
"Yeah-yeah, you and Catman go fuck when we get back. Whatever," Null snapped, sitting on the floor where he was using Killer Frost's frigid body to ice his wrists, "Can we go now?"
To the side, Scandal listened in on a device in her newly retrieved watch, "Yes, sir, I understand," Null was barely able to key in on the signal before the transmission ended, and Scandal addressed the rest of the Secret Six, "Mockingbird says he's glad we're alive. He says to get home by any means available."
"Cool," Null huffed at not getting enough time to try and track 'Mockingbird'. He got up off of the ground, trying to roll out his wrists to maintain range of motion, "I need splints, and a ton of painkillers."
"What we need is to send a message to The Society," Deadshot replied, guns still trained on the downed villains, "We kill everyone here."
Catman pushed Cheshire off of him and went to stop Deadshot from committing wholesale slaughter, "Wait, we don't need to do that," He insisted.
Amazingly enough, the plea worked on Deadshot, "Hm. I guess you're right," -Just not quite in the way Catman likely intended, "Just one should do it."
He pointed across the room to the were-hyena that Null had skewered earlier and fired a devastating shot that went right through its head.
"Bad draw, Hyena," Deadshot said, the barrel of his gun smoking from the lethal shot.
Null looked between Deadshot and Hyena, then to all of the other villains leftover, "...Really?" He asked incredulously, "You shot the impaled hyena-monster, but you didn't shoot the literal Nazi laying right there?" He gestured to Captain Nazi, who was still convulsing violently.
Deadshot rolled his eyes behind his mask, "Well, if you injecting him with enough pain serum for all six of us combined won't kill him, you're free to finish him off yourself," He offered.
"...Not really one for executions," Null admitted.
"No, no," Deadshot insisted, "I've got it," He took aim at Captain Nazi and shot him in the head, watching Null wince as he carried it out. Not that he had to justify anything to the kid. Instead, he had a point to get across, "Anyone who isn't brain dead or literal dead, you, tell Luthor, tell Black Adam, tell Dr. Psycho, or Deathstroke, or whoever's in charge. Tell 'em they're already dead. They just haven't fallen down yet."
XxX
(Several Hours Later – Somewhere in Rural Vermont – House of Secrets)
Max frowned, staring at his phone, still wondering what he was going to say to Selina when he finally sent something back. The best thing he could do for the time being, was send a message saying, 'I'm fine. Talk to you more when I get a chance.'
That had resulted in several more long follow-up messages, all with increasing frustration on Selina's part, not that Max could blame her. Still, all he could do was send an emoji of a person shrugging. He bet she loved that.
Speaking of things that people loved, Max loved the bandages and splints adorning both hands. His hands were still of use, but it would be a few weeks before they fully recovered. At least he hadn't torn any tendons or ligaments… or gotten an infection. Their living conditions hadn't been the best during their imprisonment.
Max sighed and again wiggled his fingers for the umpteenth time since Rag Doll had put them back in place just before they escaped. He wasn't alone for long, however. He smelled tobacco before he ever saw the person smoking it.
"You could have told us you were going to do that shit with your hands."
Max turned around and saw Deadshot entering the parlor where he had been sat, cigarette hanging from his mouth, "When? How?" Max asked rhetorically, getting up from his seat, "We weren't ever alone out of The Society's earshot to say anything until I went ahead and actually did it."
Deadshot didn't have a real argument against that. Also, it wound up getting them out of a tough spot. He couldn't question it too much, "Oh, well. You're alive, I guess. Whatever doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger."
"Like hell," Max said as he moved past Deadshot, "I've come to learn, whatever doesn't kill you is probably just gonna leave a scar," He got a snort of amusement out of the man, at least.
The two began walking toward the rooms so they could turn in for the night. Decent rest had been something in very short supply back when they were imprisoned.
"I wonder if I'm gonna have nightmares," Max wondered to Deadshot as he reached for the door of what he remembered was his room. Upon opening it, he was met with a sight that he felt certain would linger with him for the wrong reasons, "Aww! Aww, no! Come on, Catman! You're better than that!"
Max quickly shut the door, to preserve his vision, just as the tip of some kind of bladed weapon careened through the wood, "This isn't your ROOM!" Cheshire snapped from inside.
"I forgot all the rooms in this place shift!" Max argued, quickly retreating while Deadshot laughed at his misfortune, "All these doors look the goddamn same!"
Deadshot called after him between laughs, "The rooms are marked, kid!"
XxX
Word spread fast. Given that Calculator had the facility housing the Secret Six bugged, The Society had the swift escape of the group recorded for posterity. That included the threat Deadshot gave to those in charge of The Society.
Deathstroke included.
Sitting in on a conference call with Lex Luthor himself, Deathstroke couldn't help but poke fun at the failure of the notable schemer, "Well-well-well, Luthor. Your gathering of second-string villains, even altogether, couldn't take down six has-beens or never-weres," He taunted evenly, "Still, even if Cheshire and Deadshot were involved, most of our numbers have never even heard of the rest of the Six."
Luthor clearly wasn't pleased by this. Still, he was far calmer than Deathstroke remembered him ever being when difficulties ever arose in his previous undertakings, "That hasn't stopped our recruitment numbers from plummeting since our… trouble at Gotham Docks, and the escape of the Six. Despite the others being unknown, even the strongest and fiercest would prefer not to have Cheshire or Deadshot angry with them."
Which was fair enough. Even Deathstroke had to admit, he had a substantial amount of respect for what those two were capable of, "So, what? You're taking me off 'recruiting' to deal with them?" Truth be told, the idea of crossing guns with Deadshot was an intriguing thought.
"No, I need your uniquely effective forms of persuasion for those who refuse to play ball," Luthor said, "Black Adam will see to the Six. I'm just keeping you abreast of the situation. I'm sending you the details we have on them, just in case. There's not much for most of them."
"I figured," Deathstroke said. Still, something was better than nothing, "I'll let you know where we stand numbers-wise when my kids get back."
"Until then, Deathstroke."
With that, the transmission ended, leaving Deathstroke to wait for the intel that Luthor had promised. It didn't take long, and he immediately tucked into what was available. As the world's greatest mercenary, he was never one to cut corners on his homework when potential enemies were involved.
When he got to one individual in particular, his interest was temporarily piqued, "Hmm. Now that's interesting."
There Null sat on his computer screen. An image in costume, and out of it, probably from when he had been captured with the rest of the Secret Six. There were plenty of Null-centric clips available for him to view, the same with everyone else, from the fight at Gotham Docks, to his captivity, to his eventual escape alongside his teammates.
The previous time the boy had run across him, he hadn't been worth more time than it took to dismiss him. When he'd last been in Gotham City to retrieve Rose, he'd delegated Grant to deal with him. Grant had been quite annoyed with Null when he had returned.
Back then, Deathstroke chalked that up to Null merely being an annoyance, but now? Well, clearly a lot had changed since the first time Deathstroke had put a bullet into him. He had become competent. From the looks of how he fought, maybe even dangerous.
"Everyone moves up in the world sometime, I suppose," Deathstroke mused aloud.
It would be an amusing time whenever Grant and Rose got back from the mission he'd dispatched them on. It would be fun to see Rose's reaction when he showed her that her little friend from Gotham City was officially on the hitlist of The Society.
Deathstroke wondered just how long the team of misfits could survive now that they had The Society's attention.