Chapter Text
Lonnie felt his spirits lifted as soon as he stepped into the Botanical Gardens. It was a stark contrast going from the dark, stuffy hallways of Arkham’s interior to the miniature Eden above. It was a bright spring day, and most of the plants were beginning to bloom. Lonnie couldn’t help but stand in the middle of a dome, smiling, and feeling for the first time since his arrival at Arkham that he truly was in a place of healing. A thought tempted him: he could find a bench far removed from the coming and going of the occasional employee and take a much needed rest (Lord knows only the truly deranged could find some decent shut eye in the Asylum).
“It feels nice, doesn’t it? The healing power of the Green,” she said.
Lonnie didn’t need to ask. That voice was familiar to him since he was a child, listening to the morning news. Effectively, he turned towards the source of the voice and found one of Gotham’s deadliest villains, carefully treating the plants with a herbicide (natural, of course).
“It does,” he responded truthfully. “Literally a breath of fresh air.”
Pamela nodded. Why she was allowed to be there, despite her inhibitor collar, was beyond him. That’s a lie. Lonnie had several ideas and all of them could be true.
He hesitated, but then gradually approached her until she shot him a piercing glare that stopped him right in his tracks.
Despite everything he knew about her, Lonnie couldn’t help but admire her beauty. Piercing green eyes that matched her skin, contrasting with a bright, ginger mane completed her sinister smile. Why was she smiling? It was then that Lonnie noticed the green lights on her collar and realized that she was not in fact totally powerless. If he’d gone any closer…
“Anarky, isn’t it?” she said, pleased with his uneasiness. “Did you come to convert me, or did you want a kiss?”
Lonnie spoke firmly. He said, “No, ma'am. I wish to work with you.”
“Oh,” she said, nearly laughing. “Now why could that be?”
“This is my first time gardening,” he said, “and I wish to learn from the best.”
Lonnie’s wry smile disappeared as soon as Pamela sneered at his joke. She went back to work, saying, “Go away, kid. I’m not gonna kiss you.”
Drat. Didn’t mean to come across like that, he thought.
After that blunder, Lonnie took a moment to observe her at work. He said, “Platanthera grandiflora.”
Pamela stopped working on the orchid. He said, “Found primarily in wetlands, wet forests, and swamps in the New Jersey area, including Slaughter Swamp. It’s been threatened primarily by deforestation and pollution.”
“Correct,” she said. “Did you look that up to flatter me?”
“Not at all. I read about this plant when I was 8. Endangered Species of Gotham City.”
“Hmph. I didn’t expect a kid like you to care about the Green.”
“Nature has always been important to me, Dr. Isley.”
“Why?”
“Because I know that without the Green, humanity won’t survive. Our society exists because of it. Our overconsumption of natural resources is leading to societal decline. We must convince people to change, for their own good.”
“Hmm.” Pamela snapped a dying branch from its base. “No good. Humans will never learn.”
“They can. Humans lived in harmony with nature for thousands of years. I believe we must return to that state of balance.”
“That will only be possible if we take the weeds out from their roots,” she said. “Do you agree?”
Lonnie nodded. He walked up to another nearby plant that had gotten his attention and continued. “Our society is like this tree. Overrun with parasites. We are like these ants, feeding off of their excrement, not realizing that we contribute to the destruction of this tree that the aphids feed on. If we don’t get rid of them, we’ll be living off of a dead tree.”
Pamela had approached the infected tree as he spoke. She sprayed a branch in front of Lonnie’s face, and thus a hint of vinegar fell inside Lonnie’s nose. He sneezed as soon as it did, pleasing Pamela greatly.
“You flatter me, kid,” she said, “but cut to the chase. You want to be like the Unabomber? Kill those parasites that stand for “progress”?”
Lonnie sniffled, unamused. He said, “Kaczynski tried to use fear and violence to stop the industrialization of society.”
“And you don’t?”
Lonnie frowned. “I wish to educate people now. Expose the parasites for what they really are. I’d like your help doing that.”
“Pff. I almost think Dr. Arkham sent you here to try and “de-radicalize” me,” she said, continuing to spray the tree.
“I’ve never spoken to him,” he said, daring to cut a dead branch with the sheers he’d been handed.
“Don’t,” she said. “He’s one of your ‘parasites’, making a living by the suffering of others. He talks to you and you can feel him leeching off of your mind.”
“Now I want to talk to him even more now,” he said.
Pamela took a dying branch and presented it to him. She was still rather tranquil. Lonnie hesitantly cut it by its base. He almost smiled.
She said, “Let’s say I help you expose them. What exactly do you need me for?”
“Some biological material to help in some ‘campaigns’ I’ve planned out. In exchange, I can help you infiltrate some places you might have trouble with, hack some lobbyists, companies, the likes…”
“How do I know you’re up to the task?”
“Blown up East Gotham Bridge before its opening. Exposed the pollution of Gotham River. Transferred a bunch of funds from Wayne Industries to farmers in Cambodia, and a bunch of other people that need it.”
“The bridge. That was you?”
He couldn’t help but smile in response.
“Impressive,” she said. “Honestly, I just thought you were an impressionable punk defacing billboards and ranting at Robin.”
“I…have been known to do those things, yes,” he said, embarrassed. “So how about it?”
“Are we killing our targets?” she asked.
Lonnie almost hesitated. He knew this question was coming. He said, “I think it’s better that we scare and expose them. Killing brings added attention and pressure.”
“Hrmph.” Pamela contemplated a branch. It was heavily infected, but she decided against cutting it and sprayed it instead. “I think they’ll just get off easy.”
“Not if we hit them where it hurts,” he smirked. “Their green.”
Pamela chuckled, shaking her head at this genius kid. “You've caught me in a good mood. And I do need help accessing some places…”
“What the hell,” she said. “I’ll flatter you.”
Pamela extended her hand. Lonnie looked at it, looked up at her in contemplation. She raised an eyebrow, a shadow of a smile across her lips. What the hell, he thought. If I die here, I’ll die for a cause.
Her hand was cooler than he had expected. And thankfully, she didn’t scratch him with poisoned claws.
“You still want some gardening tips to combat these pests?” she joked.
At that moment, Lonnie noticed the guards passing by them. He understood and nodded. Thus began his first lesson in “green warfare”.