This DCverse is Maddening

"Are you sure you're up for this?"

Marceline asked the youth what felt like the third time that morning and frankly, if Albert didn't feel so numb after the previous evenings' events he would've been annoyed.

"I'm fine."

He replied tiredly. While he didn't have enough will with all to express annoyance, exhaustion was another thing entirely. After Albert had gotten in, sleep hadn't found him that night. It was like an elusive elk to the hunter. But try he did. And judging from the dark circles under his eyes, the fight was fruitless. The portrait of that open coffin had haunted his mind, coming to the forefront in a crystal clear image behind his eyelids. With every blink, it was like he was back in that hole. Ripping away that jewelry from the dead man.

"If you say so…"

The short haired girl didn't sound convinced but decided to drop it for now. After all this needed to be done, there was no reason to delay further on this. Whether or not the group could've completed the task all at once last night wasn't even in the cards. Even with her guards, she didn't want to temp fate by staying out too late in Gotham. Nothing good came out of anything that late at night.

Albert wouldn't blame her for that. Who knew what kind of freaks would pop up out of nowhere to demolish that blanket of security.

"You can just sit back?" Michael, the towering youth gently hedged," I'm sure uh Marian would understand?"

That last of his sentence made it readily apparent that even he knew it would be a toss up to see if the ghost didn't become belligerent if one her primary demands/requests were to be denied.

"We don't know that." The youth in question hugged the heavy trench coat tighter to himself, finding the tiniest bit of comfort against the cold night air. It was one of his more recent acquisitions, after nearly having his chest ripped open he had bitten the bullet and splurged on a lightly used coat to not just give himself more protection but also for the ascetics. And so far, it had aided him greatly.

It weighed nicely on his thin body, fully encompassing him. Reaching all the way down to the bottom of his pants with multiple pockets arrayed. Pitch black buttons ran up on both sides of outside, acting like some sort of welding to protect his body from the elements. The inner pockets had only made him fall in-love with it even more. He knew if he lived long enough, that growing into it wouldn't be a problem whatsoever.

Sure there were a couple of scuffs and bruises all over its beige skin but Albert thought that only gave it more character, but maybe not the smell. But that was quickly fixed after a few runs through a washer machine.

"Look." Angeline looked on in envy at the teen's toasty looking coat," We're all worried about you. Not to be rude, but you look like a zombie."

"After this is done, I'll take a few days off." Albert didn't even believe his own words, their was no way he wouldn't be grinding away at skills for however long he can after all this.

"W-we could g-go camping?" Steve suggested, tugging at his own jacket while sending furtive glances at the beige beauty," That a-always helps me r-relax."

"We would have to leave the city." The blonde helpfully added," There's nowhere else to go on this rock. It'll probably be for the best though."

"I'll think about it." Albert yawned in replied. While camping and getting out of Gotham sounded like a good idea, he didn't want to risk leaving the city before completing his first major quest. There was no telling if the system was keeping aspects of the case hidden from him but he honestly wouldn't put it past it. He had done it plenty of times to his players in the past.

"That's all I c-can ask."

Steve nodded in acquiescent.

"What do you plan to do after all this?"

Marceline asked, curiosity evident in her tone.

"I'm not really sure." The teen sighed, looking up through the moon that pierced through the foggy sky," I'm definitely not taking up any more work for at least a couple of days."

"I meant to ask." She asked," I know you take up freelance work, but how far do you plan on going with something like that?"

"I think I get what you're asking." He responded, an answer already on his lips," I plan on becoming a private investigator of sorts. At first an unofficial one then get a license."

"If that's your plan," The short haired girl nodded," Then I would suggest putting your own sign up on the notice board."

"I-I could even m-make one for you!" Steve excitedly barged in the conversation," It's t-the least I c-could do."

"I'll still pay you for it though." Albert said, memories of people trying to artist with 'exposure' coming to mind," An artist needs to compensated."

"Don't w-worry about it." The teen tried to reject his offer of payment, if only he knew he didn't have a say in the matter," I'll c-come up with something."

Albert couldn't help but feel a little bit of nostalgia as they came closer and closer to familiar looking old metal gates. The ancient looking brickwork and crooked lettered rusted to barely recognizable words. Walls reached up into the heavens, reaching, straining to touch upon the infinite of space itself. Judging from its bedraggled and despondent appearance, it was punished by the indifferent mistress that all try to outrun. Time.

Who would've thought his situation would be so different the second time around. Sure when he first took up this job, the group in general was pretty ambivalent towards his presence. In some cases, outright hostile. But now? It actually felt like he was a part of the team, while friends were a bit of a long shot but it wouldn't be wrong to call them close acquaintances. Whether or not his relationship with this group will progress further in the future would be unknown. All he could do was revel in companionship while it was still present.

"We don't have to go in again…right?" Michael asked, looking none to eager to step in that abandoned building. Albert didn't blame the giant, even after spending over a week away from this place that feeling of dread hadn't dispersed to say the least.

"No.." Marceline agreed, a bit of a sad look on her face," Not this time."

"Are we?"

The blonde look on in trepidation, clinging tighter to her jacket.

"Yes." The short haired girl said gravely, the usual mischievous attitude of hers now completely gone," But you guys don't need to come.."

She locked hazel eyes onto the young investigator, seeming both sorrowful but determined.

"Except you, sorry Albert."

"No problem." He shrugged," I already agreed to her request. Can't go back on it now."

Now if they were talking about promises to himself, it would be a different matter entirely.

"W-we've been over this M-Marcy," Steve stepped forward and laid a hand on the shorter girl's shoulder," We w-won't leave you to d-do this alone."

"As much as I want to disagree," The giant teen grumbled added his own meaty palm," It wouldn't be right."

"Damn right!" Angeline shook of her own skittish mood and joined in the impromptu group huddle," We'll follow you all the way!"

"If that's your wish.." Marceline let out a relieved breathe after seeing her friends' support. And while her playful mood didn't return in full, her shoulders did release some of their tension. Looking at all of those closet to her, she let out a small smile.

"But first.." She fished out an object wrapped in a silk, pure white clothe," Take this Albert."

"Sure."

The bundle was oh so incredibly light in his hands, he was more than sure that the clothe itself weighed more than the jewelry inside. But even so, its metaphysical weight was heavy. Forty years. This thing was held in the hands of Marian's killer for almost half a century. But now here it was, within a stone's throw of its owner final resting place.

"When we walk in," Marceline announced to the rest of the group," Please be respectful. Where we're going is where she'll be the most active."

"Why didn't we go there last time?"

Albert asked, snapping his attention off the 'heavy' item in his possession.

"Because," The waning moon above shined down on her back, wind picking up her short brown curls and the night grasped at the pale girl. Her lips were set in a small, sad smile as she spoke her next words.

"It's where most of her pain lies.."

With that, they walked through the gate like a grim procession. Marceline lead them like some sort guide through the underworld, her steps almost seeming to glide. Their heads were down, finality filling their hearts.

Albert didn't get the feeling that they would be spending much time in this place. Not like last time. He held the bundle lightly between both hands, careful not let it jumble about too much. Having no idea what situation being clumsy would get him in. Nothing good to say the least.

Their breathes only added to fog, becoming more and more like something solid the deeper they traversed. Getting lost in a school courtyard sounds nearly impossible but with the thickening fog it started to feel like a possibility. Causing them to group up closer behind their short guide. Seeking some form of sanctuary from the eerie clearing.

It was scarily quiet the first time he went with this group as nothing more than a camera man, but now? He realized the this was an entirely different type of silence all together. As if something large and imposing was holding its breathe in anticipation. As if they were all standing on the precipice of violence, like a dark promise.

He could hear their breathes begin to become more ragged as they delved deeper, sweat beginning to drip down his own face.

'Maybe the trench coat was a mistake..' Albert didn't dare to stretch his arms to get rid of the feeling of his now sticky undershirt. He simply did not trust his own body not to accidentally drop the bundle and become the spark to-something?

Their steps were loud in that fog, echoing ominously through the night. Every heavy clomps put his teeth of edge, like nails scratching across a chalkboard.

The surrounding rubble seem to start to take on more and more disturbing forms in the mist. Flicking movement and distorted figures jerked around them. Buildings standing tall loomed above these pitiful humans.

"We're here.."

Marceline's voice was like a rock being thrown at a mirror, shattering the still clearing. The group huddle up in half circle and followed her gaze to single spot just a few steps away. Albert didn't know he expected. Maybe something to shatter his sanity, like a mangled body reaching out to the entrance. Or a blood stain or indentation in the cement.

But there was nothing. It was just an empty spot on the pavement directly below one of the sky reaching buildings that seem to leer down at them. He could see long faded metal guard fences from below but other than that, there wasn't any other sign of this spot being special at all.

"Marian Gran." Her voice was like a hollow call as it reached out into..somewhere," We have come back, just as we promised."

There was no response, at least nothing verbal but the sudden breeze blowing in from behind them was answer enough. Especially when it caused every hair on Albert's body to stand on in. And judging from the sound of softly shuffling feet, he wasn't alone in his discomfort.

"We are not here to harm you, nor to hinder you. Only to help."

Again there was no verbal response, but the wind did it pick up a tad. So light was the change that the only reason why he could even feel was because of the breeze brushing against his clammy skin.

"We have found your murderer and retrieved what was stolen from you that night."

Now, the soft breeze stopped entirely. And after a beat, the fog began to rise. Enveloping their rooted feet and up to their knees. It felt a bit harder to breathe in that moment, as if he had just climbed to the top of a mountain. The air was thin and cold, biting into his flesh. Lungs working in overdrive just to gasp in a breathe.

"The man who you fled from that night," The medium didn't allow what was happening around her to stop her words," Was a man by the name of Gerald Berg."

The wind picked up to point where it began to take a lot of effort for them to not just stumble around. But even then, they stayed rooted in place. Afraid their clumsiness would interrupt the atmosphere.

"After you jumped," She spoke over the whistling current, words punching a stake of dread into their hearts," That man then ripped away your broach and kept it for forty years!"

His coat flapped under the picking up wind, strips of cold slashed across exposed skin. Albert really hoped Marceline knew what she was doing.

'I should've brought my salt..'

"In those forty years, that man married and had a child." She yelled into the howling void," He lived all those years without ever facing his just rewards. And all throughout, he kept your broach close. Even going so far as to have it buried with him.."

Her words near the end was spoken barely above a whisper, pain and sorrow evident in her tone. It was a cruel story. All their lives, even here in Gotham, they've always had a hope that those who do despicable things would get some kind of punishment for their deeds. That hope didn't go away no matter how many people they saw get let off after doing horrendous actions. But this tale had shaken that deeply ingrained notion. What are the benefits for being a good person?

Look at Gerald Berg. He lived a frankly good life. He had lived quite a wealthy lifestyle. Rich parents. Never had to worry about living expensive or where to get his next meal. But even with that kind of life, he still turned out rotten. Obsessive of something he couldn't have. To the point of not just snatching the dead woman's treasure possession but also marrying a woman who looked oh so similar to Marian Gran. Sure, whatever instincts his son had forever opened a rift between the two. But besides that? He lived the dream. Rich. Handsome. Loving spouse. And even with all that, the man died before the truth could come to pass. Forever staining her death as a suicide. Casting doubt on an innocent child for the rest of his days.

Sometimes, life just isn't fair…

"The police dubbed your death a suicide," Her voice was morose," But everyone thought your student, Nethanel Hadrien, was responsible."

The wind howled but through strained ear it sounded more akin to a woman's sob.

"But, there's some good news. He left from under his fathers' controlling thumb. And now he owns one of the most prominent clothing companies in all of Gotham."

"He's the one who pointed us in the right direction," She continued through the dying gale," And we found his son. Who then was primary key to figuring everything out. He helped us dig up his own fathers' grave."

Without turning her attention away from the spot, she motioned for Albert to step forward. The weight of the bundle in his hands seemingly increased by multiple times. Filling his hands, arms and chest with cold. Completely ignoring the layers of warmth. The chill licked at the cuts and bruises hidden beneath, nearly causing him to flinch away.

Getting closer to the spot didn't help any and standing just ahead of the group made him more appreciative of whatever Marceline was doing. Just standing there made him want to clover himself up in a blanket to hide from whatever was present. Steeling his nerves, Albert knelt within arms length of the spot. That thick fog seem to avoid it like the plague, leaving it crystal clear.

With soft, careful motion the youth unwrapped the silk clothe exposing the broach to the world. The small piece of jewelry looked as though it had been recently cleaned. The gems outlining its silver trumpet like leaves seem to sparkle under the moon light. The image of a lily just after a rainy day overlapped the objects, dew dripping of its surface like the large pearl before Albert. All in all, it truly was a beautiful broach.

The heavy and sharp breeze died down to a mere whisper as the item laid in his palms like some sort of offering. Inching his way closer, he lowered his hands down to the ground. The cold concrete pressed itself painfully against his knuckles. With his task down, he stood back up with an aching body.

Albert was momentarily transfixed by the image before him. A broach in the shape of a wood lily laid on silk cloth and in an area devoid of any fog. But that fact soon changed. Before his eyes, the fog came rushing in from all sides. Encompassing the jewelry without hesitation. His heart clenched with sorrow as he got the feeling of desperation from that movement.

Stepping back, he didn't have to wait long for Marceline to start speaking again.

"Marian Gran." Her voice was soft and soothing," You have wondered these grounds for almost half a century. Watching. Waiting. Begging for anyone to help you. I know what you must have felt. Sadness. Desperation. Anger. Hatred. Confusion. Loneliness. But you don't have to anymore."

"You are free." She exhaled deeply, before crying out into the sky," Do you hear me Marian Gran? You are free! Free from the confines that hold you to this world. Free from the monster who took your life at such a young age! Free from this existence!"

"I know it might be scary to move on.." She spoke softly at the mangled woman clutching at the Broach in her vision," But you have to. The way you're living now is more akin to torture.. Please Marian Gran, don't allow this city steal away your afterlife.."

Gradually, the fog receded. The biting cold faded like a bad memory. Marceline looked up towards the waning moon, tears running down her smiling face. Angeline gripped at her hand with a reassuring squeeze, followed by Steve who took the girl's other hand in kind. And finally Michael with his large frame, draped his arms around all three of his friends. Together, they looked up at night sky. The white rock floating through the void imperially. Stars twinkling.

'This is kinda awkward..'

Albert thought as he shoved his shaking hands into the warm pockets, following suit in watching the moon shine its light on this grim city.

[Case Closed: The Gran Broach!

Requirements: Find and retrieve Marian's Broach

Difficulty: F

Rewards: 1 IP, The Gran Broach.]

(A/N: Honestly, I tried to make this scene as heartfelt as I could because simply put even though I made up Marian Gran's story I still feel oh so incredibly bad for her. I've never been good at displaying or describing my own emotions so this scene was incredibly hard. But I do hope you too can feel this goodbye to her as I do. Sure there might be the occasional mention of Marian later, but this is truly the end of her story. The identity of her murderer was found, her student's life is fine and she got her mother's broach back. I hope you enjoyed)