4 CHAPTER 3: "I Guess It's Time"

Penguin sat in his office idly working on various pieces of paperwork.

Since his ascension decades ago to one of if not the crime boss of Gotham the amount of documents he had to review, sign, shred, and write had buried him.

'Who would have thought that the Boss would still have to deal with so much paperwork.' He sighed. What he wouldn't give to be a low-level crook and go back to simple hold-ups or dare he dream of a good bank robbery.

'But then I would have to take orders from someone else.' He thought amusingly. If there is one thing he knew about himself, it was that he took orders from no one.

'You did from John and Sarah...' a quiet part of his mind remarked stopping him dead in his work.

He leaned back to ponder the relationship he had had with the couple, complicated to say the least. He had met the two many years ago during his initial rise to crime lord. Back then he was still a low-level crook with a measly handful of henchmen and truth be told, was a bit of a joke amongst the serious underworld powers. Though he had money he lacked the muscle to really enforce his will.

That was until John and Sarah entered the picture.

At the time he relied entirely on his greatest asset, money. But money would only get an enterprising criminal so far. He needed to stake his claim in the city, and he thought he knew the perfect target.

Giovanni Falcone, cousin to Carmine Falcone ruled the docks of Gotham with his cousin's blessing. Penguin had realized early on that he who controls the docks controls all the smuggling, not only in Gotham but a large chunk of the eastern seaboard.

Giovanni however never saw it that way. He saw it as merely a lucrative small-time smuggling profit while he laid back and relaxed in his penthouse.

For an entrepreneur like Penguin, the negligence in such a potential criminal goldmine disgusted him.

But muscling out Giovanni Falcone the traditional way would cost too much, take too long, and was not a sure bet. Especially if his cousin decided to jump in and provide aid. Penguin could not take them both on and hope to survive.

He liked his life very much, and ending up in the south Gotham Bay as another unknown corpse was not in his aspirations.

So he decided on a blitzkrieg tactic. Assassinate Giovanni, bribe his surviving lieutenants, and march his boys into the docks before anyone could claim the territory. If he secured it quickly enough with little bloodshed while taking out the head, he felt certain the other crime bosses would let it go without much struggle.

It would put him and Carmine Falcone at odds probably for the foreseeable future.

'F*&k him,' he had thought. Carmine may have been the big dog, but the man was a pig who didn't care for anyone unless it directly affected him. If Penguin could secure his cousins' territory as he planned, Carmine wouldn't lift a finger for revenge. Particularly if Penguin offered a blood payment to make amends...

'Amazing how money will even diminish hate... you just need enough of it.'

That philosophy he knew would see the docks firmly under his rule.

Of course, the plan was easier said than done. Giovanni was still a mob boss with a small army at his beck and call. Guarded constantly by hired killers who on their own were not much, but in sheer numbers would overwhelm the most proficient of assassins.

He had even considered spending a fortune on Death Stroke. But before he even had sent out his feelers they came.

Right into the Iceberg Lounge, they walked right up to his table and sat down with no invitation. Wearing casual business clothes they introduced themselves as John and Sarah, no last name, never a last name.

How they knew of his upcoming plan he never did learn. But they spelled out his planned hostile takeover and his intentions of hiring out an assassin to deal with Giovanni Falcone.

"If it's all the same for you, we would like to offer our services and do the job." Sarah had said. She always took care of the negotiations, John while outgoing in public was always quiet during business.

A strange dynamic for Penguin but one that somehow won him over that day. He smiled a little at the memory. Any other who would have come to him with no known background and said they could take out a mob boss for a quarter of the cost would have been thrown out immediately.

But somehow their conviction won him over... that and a demonstration of their powers.

John commanded control over electricity that allowed him to shoot out blasts of the stuff that would either stun or fry just about anyone and anything that stood in front of him. Penguin never saw the limit but he knew John could level a skyscraper if he really threw in his all. Though control could be a problem if he let loose, his natural protection from the electricity would diminish and he ended up burning himself multiple times when using his powers to the limit.

It reminded him of the sci-fi films with space wizards who could shoot it out of their hands, who swung laser swords, and who wore monk clothes. But definitely much more potent, deadly, and fearsome than depicted in those films.

Sarah had a more subtle ability, one that made Penguin very nervous. She could open teleportation portals against surfaces that she could jump through to anywhere in the world. Silent and nearly impossible to track, she could literally spy on anyone. The downside however was the drain, it seemed repeated use would exhaust her fairly quickly.

It was probably how they figured out his plan, with her sneaking into his establishment as he spoke with his lieutenants. What else did she know? What could she steal?

Still, Penguin was always wary that they had more than they ever showed him as most of his observations came from watching the two. They never did fully explain all they could do and what nuances or limitations that came with their powers.

Needless to say, their abilities proved useful the day his takeover began. At 9 am exactly, Penguin saw the penthouse of Giovanni Falcone, his fortress explode with a distinct bluish electrical energy burst.

'Hard to protect from bombs when they can be teleported right in... and when they are the literal bomb.' He thought.

Gotham P.D. and its emergency services were paid off to state that the sad demise of Giovanni was due to a gas leak. But the Falcones knew, the whole underworld knew that Penguin had secured himself as one of the new top dogs of the city.

From that point on John and Sarah would do odd end jobs for Penguin. Even saving his life on a few occasions. And with time they grew to appreciate each other, and a familiarity that became friendship was born.

They were an exception though. And it seemed James would grow to be another exception. It still irked him to no end that he was letting the punk go.

From age 12 when his powers began to manifest, to when at 14 he paid for experts to train the boy, he had him firmly in his pocket. A kind word there, a well-done pat here, and positive words of encouragement during the boy's training had secured a loyalty to Penguin as the kid's unofficial uncle.

It helped that the prostitutes he had hired to watch him had become surrogate mothers to him. Having any kid's mother figure on your payroll helped with creating a specific environment to exploit them.

The money he spent training the kid for the last 3 years in criminal management, basic martial arts, stealth, lock picking, and in-time college would have kept the kid in his debt till the end of time.

Quite a lot of resources were spent, all to nurture this little investment.

'And boy did that investment pay off,' he thought gleefully.

In this last year alone the boy had sent the Riddler gang running, the Black Mask crew to a hospital, and just recently now the Blackwater gang was partly decimated.

Sure, each time the boy seemed to cause more than necessary damage, but the results spoke for themselves. A few months was all it took to slap around some of his biggest rivals and send them scurrying back to their holes.

Seeing the kid awaken his powers at age 12 gave Penguin the vision of his own meta minion! No one would have been able to challenge him or his status ever with James by his side. The use of meta minions was not unheard of in the underworld, but having one as potent and potential as James would have shaken the balance of Gotham and crime in the United States. People with that much potential power would form their own organizations or be a solo act. The Penguin mob would have one of the big leaguers loyal solely to them!

And based on what he knew of the boy's parents. The kid had a long way to go before reaching his full potential. And Penguin would have seen to it that his loyal henchman got there... for the good of the Penguin's interests.

He grinned at that vision before the grin faded with a sigh. 'It never would have worked.'

He knew that. Deep in his soul, he knew that. He probably knew it years ago when he first agreed to watch the boy.

As James grew older he was already showing signs of being the same as his parents. They were independent contractors to a fault. Refusing to join any and everyone to keep their independence.

'They were so particular about being free, to choose and never be bound... even that assassins ''League'' learned that lesson the hard way.'

Sure, the kid would be loyal. But in 10 years' time would he still have that loyalty? That same attachment to Uncle Penguin? Age changed a lot of things, and so did maturity, would he really stay with him? He seriously doubted it.

And having a weapon that was hesitant, unsure or resistant was just as dangerous as having it pointed at him.

Not only that, but Penguin knew despite no one being able to call him on it, he had to fulfill the debt to the kid's parents. He was willing to burn neighborhoods, wack crooks/cops/politicians left and right, and even sell his soul to the devil to get an edge. But he always paid his debts. Even if it was to someone like Batman or scum like Carmine Falcone.

But after all that the Penguin knew there was an even bigger reason than all the others, one that was all due to a screwup he had committed. One which he nailed into his capos and minions to never fall for.

He had grown to care for the kid.

Just like his parents his relationship changed from paying off a debt to becoming a general friendship and perhaps affection. For someone like Oswald Cobblepot, that was much rarer and more precious to him than people realized.

He sighed, "Maybe the kid will come back to work with me..."

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That night James was enjoying a scenic view from on top of one of the many high rises that dotted Gotham. It was surprisingly easy to get to the top of most buildings in Gotham. Thieves and crooks typically broke the locks on a regular basis so access was always open to the public, as long as you were careful.

Sitting with his legs hanging over the edge of the high rise he stared at the city which he had called home for the last 16 years.

The view was one that would be hard to hate. Looking over the southwest of Gotham Bay you could see the bridges connecting the island to the mainland. The moon was bright tonight, illuminating the waters that moved with the gentle waves of the current. Here the seawater helped smother the typical smells of sewage and trash that infested the majority of Gotham's streets giving it dare he say a fresh smell.

He sat there enjoying the view and thinking about what Cobblepot had said.

'He is trying to help you...'

'Perhaps this is for the best...'

'Mom and Dad would want me to go to get a degree...'

'Should I stick with crime? Maybe I should leave that life behind...

'What am I going to do?'

These thoughts flittered through his mind as he realized for the first time in a long time, he was scared.

No, more than scared, he felt dread at the last thought of 'What am I going to do?'

Growing up, he never really thought about his purpose. That all changed for him when he started showing his powers. Cobblepot himself had told him his purpose was much greater, and that gave him focus in all his 'extracurricular studies.'

From managing the gambling books with real bookies to learning stealth from actual ninjas. James always felt his end goal was to join the ranks of the Penguin mob and work with Cobblepot to become the undisputed top dog of the underworld.

He had his purpose, it was a good one!

His fist clenched with his nails biting into his skin. Around him tiles began to rise from the roof, shingles began to shake, and a low rumbling began to shake the building.

'WHAT AM I SUPPOSE TO DO NOW!' He roared in his mind.

Around him dust, dirt, and air began to swirl around him. The building he was on now truly began to shake. Residents inside immediately either fled out of the building or took cover under their tables, thinking they were experiencing an earthquake.

Almost as soon as his anger came it left. His meditation exercises his martial arts sensei taught him was kicking in. The man had been beyond frail and ancient when James met him, but that still didn't stop him from knocking out 15-year-old James, as well as 7 of Penguin's goons, just to prove a point.

Meditation was the first thing his sensei taught him, and easily the most important lesson he learned. He was embarrassed to admit but he would never be a great hand-to-hand combatant. He knew enough to defend himself proficiently but against true professionals he would not last long.

'Perhaps sensei knew from the start so he decided to focus on something that would help me the most,' he thought.

At this point, the swirling dirt and air around him dispersed, and the building shaking slowed to a stop. Many breaths of relief would be given by the residents that night.

Now back in control and calm he decided to do one of his favorite activities, one he kept just for himself. Taking a deep breath he looked up into the night sky.

Typically the smog or light pollution from the city would block out the stars. But it seemed the universe decided it would make an exception for tonight.

Stars blinked, stood still, faded, and reappeared, showing the majesty of the cosmos.

"So beautiful," he whispered. Never taking his gaze from them.

His anger over the past few years had been tamed in time by his sensei's teachings and before that by admiring the stars.

He always remembers feeling angry. Even at a young age as a toddler, he felt anger at everything. Perhaps it was due to the lack of his parents, their deaths? Maybe it was genetic, or maybe he was really just an irritable person.

He did not know, and that fact just made him even more angry.

It was the shortcoming he hated above all else to show. But from an early age, he quickly recognized it for the problem it was. When his 'aunts' took such great care and showed such affection towards him, he couldn't bare to unleash it, lest he hurt them.

So he kept it hidden deep within himself. Forcing himself to be polite and calm while a raging storm built.

He discovered relief when one late night at the age of 6 he snuck out and took to gazing at the stars. A peace he had never experienced came over him. Maybe it was just turning off his mind for awhile while staring at the stars, or simply the cool breeze of the night with a bit of natural beauty. It always helped him relax and calm. But he could not rely on that every second of the day.

He still remembers when he nearly lost it in front of his third-grade teacher who dared to talk about his parents. He managed to hold it back and ran home just to cry to his 'aunts' about what had happened. Luckily that teacher had vanished, he always wondered about whatever became of him, though it really didn't matter.

The rage he felt, was hot like a furnace which he hid from his 'aunts' and Cobblepot. It was a side he never wanted any to see, for fear, it would never go back to staying hidden.

In retrospect, it's amazing he didn't completely go crazy with holding such a problem in for so many years. Or that it hadn't erupted resulting in him bashing someone's brains out on the sidewalk which would have resulted in a one-way trip to Blackgate prison.

A slight miracle then that sensei had come when he did to help him relieve it in a much healthier manner. For many, he had changed very little, but on the inside the rage had been limited perhaps even calmed, now he had greater control and the tools to quench it.

It still snuck up on him though, especially during fights. He really did hurt the Blackwater thugs more than he should of.

He never would feel guilty for what he had done in his job. Most of the damage had been committed against crooks or thugs that would have robbed a grandmother or even shot her for a few extra bucks.

Makes giving mercy a rather difficult prospect in his mind.

But he did still feel unease. Not from the damage he caused others, but rather what those who mattered in his life would say in response to what he was feeling while he did it.

'You idiot boy! If I wanted a mindless meathead smashing heads I will go around the block and drop a $20 to some bum. I expect better from you." Penguin would scold.

'You could have knocked them all out and left the building in under 5 minutes. Instead, you expended energy needlessly to satisfy your anger and desire to cause pain... fine at times to do so but repeatedly will make you entirely reliant.' His sensei would sagely remark.

'Causing other's pain for your enjoyment is a poison you willingly consume. Give it time and it will consume you.' A tearful 'aunt' Jane would lament.

"If only you knew how much it helps," he mutters.

He liked causing those gangs pain, it released his fury even if it was just a few drops. He liked the control he had over them... it felt good.

'But not exactly healthy, not like what I have been taught or am doing now,' his inner voice remarked while staring at the stars. Maybe he needed to see a psych sometime?

He kept staring at the stars, feeling the awe of the heavens staring down at him. Staring back at him, not in judgment but in peace.

He stayed like that till a small speckle of light from the corner of his eye burst through the horizon.

Blinking he saw it was the morning sunrise, it seemed he lost track of time.

With the sun rising and beginning to illuminate the bay and the city, James stood up with a groan. He felt sore from staying in the same sitting position for so long. Cracking his back and then taking a moment to crack his neck he stood there watching the sunrise for a moment.

"I guess it's time," he said.