Sometime during the drive, one of Maroni's henchmen slipped a black hood over Jim's head, blocking his view of the rest of the ride. And as the car stopped, he felt the henchmen drag him inside some building, the hood still covering his face. He was then shoved into a chair where he could hear loud cracking. He looked around nervously, what was making that noise? Was it the cracking of bones? But why weren't there any screams? As the henchmen finally pulled the hood off, his answer was right in front of him. Across the table sat Don Maroni, cracking off the tail of a whole lobster. Over to Maroni's side was the bloodied-up Oswald, who looked both exhausted, but also scared.

"Welcome, I'm Salvatore Maroni," The Don introduced himself like Jim had no idea who he was. "I know who you are. What do you want?" Jim spoke, eyes still adjusting to the bright lights peering through the empty restaurant. "Here's the thing..." Maroni began to speak, but Oswald interrupted him. "Jim, just tell the truth," He trembled. Maroni glared at him coldly before snapping his fingers. One of the mafia bosses' servants appeared before them, pouring a nice cold glass for Maroni. "You want a drink, Jim? I'm having a Negroni, so good with seafood," Maroni offered casually, like they were just two old friends catching up on their lives.

"Water," Jim replied. And with another snap of Maroni's fingers, the servant returned with a glass of water. "So, our friend here told me a fascinating story. Never heard a story so good, it's hard to believe it's true," Maroni chuckled, snapping off another piece of the lobster. "It is, it's true!" Oswald spoke up with desperation. "Shut up! Shut up! One more word, and I'll jam this down your throat!" Maroni threatened, gesturing to the giant lobster claw resting on his plate. Oswald shut his mouth just as the mafia boss returned to his conversation with Jim. "I try to be civil, Jim. But I'm not the kind of man that likes to ask twice. So, here's how it's gonna go..."

Jim tried to make peace with Maroni, but as the detective opened his mouth to speak, Maroni immediately cut him off. "No! No. No. You let me finish, and you'll have your turn to speak," Jim slumped back in his seat before the Don continued. "Okay then, I want you to tell me the same story that Penguin told me," Jim wasn't dumb. He knew exactly what story he was supposed to tell, but the question came out anyway. "You better know what story, my friend. Because if you tell me the same story he told me, then I could believe it's true. Then I'm happy. But if you tell me another story, oh, mama... then someone's lying to me!  And I don't know which one, and both of you will die. Understand?" Maroni warned, his glare piercing into the depth of Jim's soul.

"Yes, I do," Jim agreed. Maroni picked up the Negroni and took a sip from it, ushering for Jim to go on with the story. "Somebody murdered Thomas and Martha Wayne. My partner and I caught the case," Jim started. "We didn't even know each other then," Oswald cut in, making Maroni's anger boil over like a tea kettle. "What did I say?!" he shouted at Oswald before speaking to two of his henchmen. "Go put him on the slicer. If I don't like what I hear, slice his face prejute," The two henchmen carried Oswald back into the kitchen, and just from behind the glass, he could see Oswald was pinned to the table, his head dangerously close to the whirring slicer. While Jim didn't look behind him, he could only imagine how terrified Oswald was, but he kept his calm and quiet composure.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Go on," Maroni gestured. "I was a pawn in a conspiracy between Falcone, the mayor, and the GCPD to frame Mario Pepper for the Wayne murders with the help of Fish Mooney, Mr. Cobblepot's employer at the time," Jim continued. "Mr. Cobblepot then told the whole story to the MCU. To prove that I wouldn't betray the conspiracy, Falcone ordered me to kill Cobblepot, but I didn't do it. I let him live, and here we are," Don Maroni took a second to take that story in before wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "Falcone, Mooney, the MCU cops... None of them know he's alive?" he questioned.

"If they did, I'd be dead already," Jim spoke, drinking from his water. Maroni's face of anger quickly disappeared and was replaced with a smile and laughter. "It's delicious. Frankie! Bring the Penguin back out here! The little punk is telling the truth!" He called towards the kitchen and his henchmen. "Thank you, Jim. Good story, told well. Lots of guys in your situation freak out," Penguin came out of the kitchen, limping and stumbling back to Maroni's table, where he was welcomed back with a hug. "There you are, you rat, you snitch, you gorgeous turncoat son of a bitch. Come here. I love you!" 

Maroni placed a big and dramatic kiss on Oswald's cheek, and Oswald glanced over to Jim, silently thanking him for saving his life. "Be happy, Frankie. We just got a brand-new weapon against the Falcone's. It's Christmas!" Maroni cheered. "Happy Holidays, can I go now?" Jim sarcastically spoke, getting up from his seat. "Yeah Jim, you can go. You know, just so that we understand each other, keep all this hush-hush. Between us pals. And if I need you again, I'll call you,"

"You do that," Jim said before walking out, hoping that Harvey didn't notice his lengthy absence and had no intentions of speaking to Maroni again.

~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately for Holly, her tour with Tommy Elliot was only the beginning of his cycle of torment towards her. He had been in three of her class periods; History, English, and Math. And in every class, he intended to make her time at Anders Prep a living hell. She could hear his whispers and laughter amongst his group, and they tried so hard to get a reaction out of her. No matter how many crumpled pieces of paper they threw at her head or random "pssts!" to try and make her look back at them, Holly just stared ahead and focused on her work.

When fifth-period lunch arrived, relief coursed through Holly's veins as she walked towards the large cafeteria, complete with endless lunch tables that were made to look upscale and regal. They almost reminded her of the great hall tables in Harry Potter. And not to mention the endless food options, most of which she had never seen back at her old school.  As she grabbed her tray and walked towards the lunch line, she just so happened to yet again run into Tommy. Oh god... please tell me he's not gonna be stuck with me in every class! Holly internally sighed. But so far, Tommy and his crew had no clue she was right behind them, and she intended to keep it that way.

Holly slid her tray onto the metal beam, grabbing at some of the fruits and tuna salad that had been laid out. Keeping Tommy and his gang in her peripheral vision, Holly continued until her tray was full and she paid for it with the small stash of money in her purse. Subtly looking behind her, it seemed like the boys had taken their seats. Holly also walked off, thinking that this lunch period was going to be smooth sailing. But as she looked for a place to sit, she was blindsided by something smacking her in the face.

But this wasn't a punch, as she felt something sticky run down her face and onto her uniform. She looked up to see Tommy pointing and laughing at her as she tried to wipe her face with one hand and keep a steady grip on her tray in the other. Clumps of chocolate frosting and strawberry centers fell onto the floor as Holly's vision cleared to see Tommy's stupid smirk. "Oh, that's very mature," she rolled her eyes. She continued walking to the far end of the cafeteria, sitting right next to the windows that peered into the horseback trails. It all looked so peaceful, and Holly couldn't wait until the end of the day so she could finally get the peace she craved.

"Excuse me? Is this seat taken?" A shy voice broke Holly's focus, and she looked over to see a girl with milk chocolate brown hair and inquisitive brown eyes. "Nope, it's all yours," Holly gestured to the seat across from her. The girl complied, and she immediately looked concerned when she saw the leftover frosting on Holly's face. "Yikes, did Tommy get to you?" The girl questioned, handing Holly an extra napkin. "How did you know?" Holly inquired. Did she witness what happened? "He does it to pretty much everyone, thinks it's some funny game. I think it's ignorant," the girl explained.

"Very ignorant," Holly cracked a smile before taking a bite of her tuna salad. "I don't think I've ever seen you around before. Are you new here?" "Yeah, I just moved here a few weeks ago. I'm Holly, Holly Gordon," she held her hand out, and the girl shook it. "Nice to meet you, Hols. I'm Cara Whitstock," Cara smiled before taking a bite out of her lunch. "So, how's your first day of school going so far? Besides the cake in the face?" Holly sighed, wondering where to even begin. She didn't want to seem like she was ungrateful to be at this school. But being surrounded by preppy kids was about to drive her mad. But maybe with Cara in her corner, things wouldn't be too terrible.

"I don't mind the classes too much, as long as I'm not getting hit in the head with paper balls," Holly shrugged. "Ah, so your stuck with Tommy in a lot of your classes? I feel bad for you," Cara inhaled sharply. "I'm not too worried about it. I figure he'll give up once he realizes his little attempts won't work," Holly reasoned. Cara nodded in agreement. Even though she only had to deal with the boy's antics for one period, she too didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her anger.

Cara reached out and took Holly's hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly. "It'll get better the longer you're here. I can promise you that," she whispered. "Do you want to compare schedules and see if we have any classes together?" Holly nodded and pulled out her schedule as Cara pulled out hers. And as the two sets of eyes scanned each other's papers, it turned out that besides lunch, they had two classes together, Art and Horseback Riding. The girls continued their conversation, getting more comfortable with each other, and it felt like Holly's worst day turned into one of her better days. As the lunch bell rang and everyone started scattering out of the cafeteria, Holly and Cara walked out together to their next class.

Maybe this school isn't so bad after all!

~~~~~~~~

"There you are. Where the hell have you been?" Harvey spoke as he saw Jim walk back into the precinct from his desk. "Personal business," Jim answered. How could he form such a plausible excuse without much time or thought that wouldn't make Harvey suspicious? But like always, Harvey couldn't let it go that easily. "You disappear in the middle of a case, and you can't even tell me why?" Harvey squinted. "That's what personal means," Jim spelled it out. "Are you in some kind of trouble?" his partner questioned. "Forget it. I don't want to know your problems. WellZyn sent by Potolsky's stuff. Grab a box,"

Jim grabbed one of the boxes that were stacked up on the floor and placed it on his desk, asking Harvey if he found anything useful yet. "No, classic geeky loner. Lived for his work. No wife, no family, no real friends," Harvey responded, then he looked up with an idea, completely unrelated to the case. "Is it Barbara? Did she get into something?" Jim looked up from the open boxes and shook his head. "What about Holly? Is she alright?" Harvey inquired. "She forgot her notebook, so I had to go to her school and return it to her," Jim excused.

"Ah, figures. You need any help?" Harvey offered. "No, I'm all right, thanks," Jim declined as he continued looking through the boxes. He soon found a photo frame with Potolsky and an older gentleman and showed it to Harvey. "What do you think about this? Looks like a friend, no?" Jim inquired. The two men looked a little closer for any small detail that could point to who this other gentleman was. "Judging by the books and the mascot, he must be a philosophy professor, Gotham U," Jim pointed to certain places in the photograph. "Worth a shot,"

"Amen," Harvey nodded in agreement before calling the university to hopefully get the professor's address. After almost an hour of being on the phone with the university, Harvey finally got what he was looking for. When they arrived at the apartment, they could hear the clacking of a cane against the wood and carpeted floor. "May I help you, gentlemen?" The older man asked. "Detectives Gordon and Bullock, GCPD. We need to have a word with you," Jim explained. "Do you know a man named Stan Potolsky?"

The professor invited the detectives inside, leading them into the small living room. "I was just on my way to an appointment, but yes, I know Stan Potolsky. He was a student of mine! A very brilliant student," He nodded. "And you've stayed in touch over the years?" Jim asked. "We have. He may be a biochemist, but philosophy is a passion of his," "What can you tell us about WellZyn firing him?" Harvey inquired. "Research for WellZyn led him into some dark moral corners," The professor sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"WellZyn said he made shampoo. Where are the dark moral corners in that?" Harvey asked. The professor held back a chuckle at that, unable to believe that was the excuse WellZyn was trying to sell to them. "Stan designed pharmaceutical weapons to be used by combat troops. Drugs that worked on an epigenetic level. Imagine an army made up of soldiers so strong that they can tear a man apart with their bare hands!" The professor explained. "Of course, at the beginning, there were side effects,"

"Yeah, death," Jim added. "But Viper was the first batch. They worked out the kinks in the second version. They called it "Venom"," The professor coughed as he attempted to stand, reaching for his walker. "By then, Stan had acquired some clarity. He appealed to his bosses to end the program. They refused, so he went over their heads to Thomas and Martha Wayne," The professor walked over to his desk. He reached for the top of a small gold container, inside was a full vial of viper. "He convinced them to shut it down. And when they died, WellZyn immediately revived the program with the blessings of Wayne Enterprises. In the end, there was nothing for Stan to do but to resort to more radical measures,"

"Killing people? I'm not hearing a sense of moral outrage, Professor," Jim squinted. "If you don't mind, I'll reserve my moral outrage for the true villains of this piece," The professor said. Jim came to a quick realization, this wasn't just Potolsky confiding with his former professor about his plans for vengeance. Despite the professor's attempts to stay innocent, it became clear that he was involved too. "You mean WellZyn? You planned this with Potolsky," Jim stepped closer. "Yes," The professor admitted without a hint of hesitation or remorse. "Where is he? Talk fast, bub!" Harvey shouted.

The professor backed away from them, playing up the part of the frail older man he was, daring them to do something to him. "I'm an old man, I'm dying!" "I'll help you die quicker, you terrorist!" Harvey snarled. "Soon, Stan will issue a statement the world won't be able to ignore," The professor stated. "Soon? Today?" Jim asked. A slight smirk spread across the professor's face as he told them they were too late. "Now, you tell us where he is right now!" Before Harvey could say anything else, Jim interrupted him remembering the professor had to go to an appointment, and asked where he was going.

"Bravo! You've asked the right question. The first step to enlightenment!" The professor broke off the top of the vial before deeply inhaling the Viper. Jim attempted to pull Harvey away, but the professor was quick to grab him and throw Harvey through the apartment door. The professor twisted his walker every which way before tearing off a piece and pinning Harvey against the wall, choking him with the metal pipe. Jim reached for his gun and shot the professor in the leg, and it did little to no good. Aiming higher, Jim shot him in the back. The professor fell to the ground, the Viper in his system dissipated as he tried to catch his breath, and Harvey coughed from the pressure around his neck.

"Where is he?! Where's Potolsky?!" Jim asked, keeping his gun aimed at the professor. "Those hypocrites... Empty altruism will not erase what they've done! They must pay!" The professor strained. "Who? Who must pay?!" Jim continued asking. "WellZyn! Wayne Enterprises! Everyone will finally see them for what they are," The professor sprawled out on the ground, dying from the extensive loss of blood. "How? Where's Potolsky headed?" But Jim was only met with silence as he and Harvey looked at each other, trying to piece together the professor's words.

"What's altruism?" Harvey questioned. "Charity," Jim almost completely froze when he realized where Potolsky was. The luncheon for Wayne Enterprises had been the topic of discussion for days in the newspapers. If anything were to happen to such a major corporation, who knows what amount of chaos Gotham would fall into? "I know where he's going," Jim spoke before he and Harvey ran off back to the vehicle, desperate to reach the building before it was too late. 

~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, at the luncheon, many of the high society and middle-class management of Wayne Enterprises were just getting settled in just before the lunch was served. And for Bruce, this seemed to be the perfect place to get the clarity he needed on what caused his parent's plans to change. He sat at one of the smaller tables with a young woman named Ms. Mathis. She seemed very friendly to Bruce, and they made brief small talk before the boy got straight to the point.

"So, are all you here on the board?" He asked. "Oh, heavens no. We're middle management. The board members don't do this sort of thing," Ms. Mathis responded. "No? Why not?" Bruce inquired. "Well, they're very busy people, Bruce. Your family created a company worth billions and billions of dollars! How awesome is that?" She acted like Bruce had no idea of this already. If this was an attempt to make him realize his young age and doubt his intellect about what was really going on, it was a miserable attempt.

"Awesome. I wanted to speak to them, because I've found what looks like serious irregularities in the Arkham Project," He clarified, watching Ms. Mathis's reaction subtly but closely. "Irregularities? I can assure you, Bruce, that Wayne Enterprises would never countenance doing business with criminals. Just wouldn't happen!" She denied. "I hope so, but I'd like to speak directly with the board myself. Can you make that happen?" Bruce asked. "I can certainly try. They prefer to communicate with minors via the usual, legal mediation, but I can..."

Before Ms. Mathis could finish her sentence, a man flashed onto the monitor next to them, surprising them and everyone else in the room. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! This is a public service announcement on behalf of all living creatures! You've heard of a drug called Viper? That's me. I made it for WellZyn, a subsidiary of Wayne Enterprises," He glared into the camera. "Is this true?" Bruce looked over to Ms. Mathis in shock. "O-of course not, Bruce! I mean, this man is... clearly insane!" She stuttered. She and everyone working in Wayne Enterprises knew this man was speaking the truth. But they weren't about to admit it to the public.

"I hoped that a demonstration using street people would suffice, but it seems bad things only truly happen when they happen to important people! Like you!" Potolsky spoke angrily before the camera cut out.  As the chaos at the luncheon began to ensue, Jim and Harvey burst through the front doors of the building, immediately asking an employee where the AC plant was. "Straight ahead. Staircase across the ballroom," The employee told them, confused as to what the rush was. The sounds of the air conditioning turning on and echoing hiss sent everyone into a panicked frenzy. As Harvey reached the ballroom, he yelled for everybody to get out.

And despite everyone trying to climb over each other and escape the doomed green smoke, everyone, including Alfred and Bruce, had cleared out of the room just in time. Meanwhile, on the roof, Jim reached for his gun as he saw Potolsky finagling with the tubes and twisting the knobs on the large metal container of Viper. "Turn it off, or I'll shoot!" Jim insisted, and Potolsky turned around with a blank stare. "Go ahead! My work is done!" he replied. But rather than shooting at Potolsky, Jim shot at the metal container, and the green gas blasted right into Potolsky's face and Jim quickly covered his face with his coat sleeve, watching the Viper take control of Potolsky.

"Turn around! Put your hands behind your head! Interlock your fingers!" Jim shouted as Potolsky stood back up. "That's all right! You're angry and confused! I understand! There's no more need for violence!" Potolsky darkly chuckled. At this point, Harvey was right behind Jim, also pointing his gun at their suspect, but Jim told him not to shoot as he walked closer. "That's considerate of you! I'm leaving now, go look in warehouse 39!" Potolsky said, walking backward to the edge of the building.

"You're not going anywhere!" Harvey warned. "I can go anywhere I want!" Potolsky insisted before climbing onto the stone balcony. And before Jim and Harvey could stop him, Potolsky jumped off, crashing to the ground below. The detectives ran to the edge and saw the chaos that Potolsky left in his suicide, including the people he left terrified at the sight of his dead body resting on top of a crushed car. "You really can have too much of a good thing," Harvey commented.

Following Potolsky's lead, Jim and Harvey drove to the warehouse that WellZyn was in charge of. But as Jim pulled open the doors of number 39, the only things they could find were cleared-off metal desks, a few empty beakers, and hanging sheets of plastic. Though there was no physical evidence they could take back to the GCPD, it was enough to convince Jim and Harvey that this was where Potolsky conducted his experiments. "Nothing," Jim sighed. "What'd you expect? It's Gotham," Harvey shrugged. But unaware to both of them, Ms. Mathis was sitting in her car across the street, on the phone with one of her associates.