A/N: Ok, I've had this in my head for a while now, I just wanted to wait until I finished my Dark Knight fanfiction before starting to work on it. Anyway, please review and enjoy.

The Child in the Cell

The Batman wandered through the halls of the TYGER Guard Facilities, searching for more Riddler Secrets to reveal the location of the next hostage. He'd been through the facility before but had been too focused on attempting to stop Protocol 10 to really explore and search the place. Using Detective Mode, the Batman discovered two bodies, hidden in rooms. Opening the door to the first room he discovered the body of a TYGER guard, who looked like he had died while being interrogated. He scanned the TYGER guard's corpse, solving the riddle "You don't want to be caught off-guard in this place, do you?" He then exited the room and headed for the next one. However, unlike the other room, the door to this one had a lock. The Batman took out his Cryptographic Sequencer and quickly hacked the code, which was simply the word, "SECRETS." The door unlocked, and the Batman opened it, entered the room, and again realized its difference from the other room. Lying on a cot, was a skinny, pale girl with long blonde hair about twelve, who was curled up in a ball and apparently sleeping. The Batman frowned internally; this girl looked far too young to be a hardened criminal and yet here she was, in the middle of Arkham City, home to the lowest of the low, the worst of the worst, and the craziest of the crazy. The girl's eyes snapped open suddenly and she shot straight up in her bed, looking into the darkness of the room where the Batman stood.

"Professor?" the girl asked in a soft, barely used, and unsure voice, shifting her legs so they hung over the edge of the cot. The Batman moved out of the shadows slowly, hoping not to scare her. The girl's eyes widened as he showed himself, but after a moment of looking at him, she muttered, "Batman… or do you prefer Bruce Wayne?" The Batman's throat tightened. Only three people in Arkham City knew his identity, and they had all died earlier that night. So how did this young girl know who he was?

"I'm here to help you. Are you hurt?" The girl shook her head.

"The screaming is gone. The people are safe… and the Professor is dead?"

"Professor Strange?" Batman asked. The girl nodded.

"Yes. He's dead." She looked down at her lap. However, she didn't seem to be mourning so much as thinking. But thinking over what exactly?

"Oracle, I need the file of every female Arkham Asylum and Blackgate Penitentiary inmate currently in Arkham City, excluding Selina Kyle, Pamela Isley, and Harleen Quinzel."

"Why? What have you found?"

"Apparently, the TYGER guards aren't the only inmates Strange was using in Arkham City. There's a young girl who was being held next to Strange's torture chamber."

"What? But there's no record of any adolescent inmates in either Blackgate or Arkham."

Batman frowned and glanced at the girl who was sitting on the bed and staring at him is she? Why was she here? And perhaps the most confusing of all, what did Strange need from her?

Hugo Strange wandered the halls of Arkham Asylum, looking over the patients deemed "most forgettable", the perfect subjects for Jervis Tetch to test on. Strange smiled to himself. Getting the former neurologist to cooperate had been child's play; all he had to do was provide the right motivation. Opening another door, he came across a rather strange sight. Lying on a cot, was a skinny, pale girl with long, limp blonde hair about eleven, who was curled up in a ball and apparently sleeping. Strange frowned; female patients were few and far between in Arkham Asylum, especially ones so young. As though the girl heard him, her eyes snapped open suddenly and she shot straight up in her bed, looking into the darkness of the room where the psychiatrist stood.

"Who is there?" she whispered into the shadows of her room. Her voice sounded soft, unsure, and barely used, as though she hadn't talked in years.

"I am Professor Strange. What is your name child?" he asked.

"Name?" the girl asked, looking confused.

"Yes, your name. The thing you are called by other people."

"Mary. Mary Noble. I think," the girl stammered. "It has been so long since I have had to use my name." Strange nodded, before turning to leave and heading for Arkham Mansion and the records room.

It was simple to find files in Arkham, as long as you knew where to look. The Professor quickly found the right file and opened it to discover the picture of a little blonde girl who looked about six but it was unmistakably Mary Noble.

Psychological Profile (by Dr. Jeremiah Arkham)

Name: Mary Iris Noble. Age at internment: six years old. Family: Father – Richard Noble, Mother – Patience Noble, Brother – Justin Noble. Patient suffers from: spells of hallucinations, mental instability, sociopathic tendencies, self-control disorder, and possibly schizophrenia. Warning: Has bitten and/or scratched two doctors to date. Patient Status: (Strange frowned at what came next) deceased.

Patient suffers from a form of mental illness the likes I have never come across. The patient appears to be completely normal and sane upon first glance but a few sessions later I have come to the conclusion that she is anything but. For a girl of merely six she extremely literate and well spoken, capable of reading middle and high school level material with ease, solving basic algebra and geometry problems, as well as picking up on everything from psychics to psychology… she also disturbs me. It is as though she is able to look into the minds of others just by looking into their eyes. She… knows things. Things that only I have known. My special patients I personally attend to… my relationship with Alyce… my fears about my own mental health… the true nature of my uncle… I am beginning to see why her parents donated so generously to the Asylum after incarcerating her within its walls.

Additional Notes

Her 'spells' appear to come irregularly and without much warning.

She is very observant and prefers to bite those who believe she is lying about what she sees.

Very observant and good at discovering secrets, especially those that were always meant to be hidden.

Could possibly aid in the diagnosis and treatment of fellow patients?

SHE IS TO NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.

Strange frowned. It wasn't adding up. Perhaps her patient interview tapes would help shed some light on her story. Taking the first tape and inserting it into the player, Professor Strange started it.

Doctor Arkham: Patient Interview 1. Patient's name: Mary Iris Noble. Diagnosed with slight sociopathic tendencies, extreme self-control disorder, and possibly undifferentiated schizophrenia. How are you today Mary?

Mary: Why am I here?

Doctor Arkham: You're not well, Miss Noble. This is a place where sick people come to get better. Do you understand?

Mary: Uh-huh. Like a hospital?

Doctor Arkham: Exactly. A hospital for people who are sick in the mind.

Mary: Like you?

Doctor Arkham: Wha– no, Miss Noble, I assure you I am of most sound mind.

Mary: There was once a terrible war between the birds and the beasts. For a long time it was doubtful which would win.

The bat said, "I am not a bird and I am not a beast, so I shall fight on neither side."

At last the beasts seemed to be gaining the victory. The bat flew to them and said, "I am a beast. Look at my body and you will see that I am. I shall fight on your side."

New flocks of birds came to help their relatives, and the battle soon turned against the beasts.

Then the bat skulked over to the other side. "I am a bird," said he. "I can prove it by my wings," and he fought with the birds.

At last the war was over.

After that day, neither Bird nor Beast befriended the bat. Both saw his dishonesty. Both made war upon him. And to this day, he is obliged to slink off and hide in dark places during the day, never showing his face until dusk.

Doctor Arkham: … I beg your pardon?

Mary: Both sides see you for what you really are. Why do you not see it?

Doctor Arkham: I think that will be enough for today. Guards!

Interesting, Strange thought. In his many years at the Asylum, he had encountered many different people with many different abilities. But to his knowledge, Arkham Asylum had never held a psychic. At least, until Mary Noble was admitted. Still curious and inquiring, he started the next tape.

Mr. Noble: How is she?

Dr. Arkham: She's… well… I don't actually know.

Mrs. Noble: What do you mean you don't actually know?

Dr. Arkham: You have to understand, Mrs. Noble, her case is truly extraordinary and unique… perhaps even one of a kind.

Mr. Noble: We don't care about how friggin' special she is, we want her fixed!

Dr. Arkham: That's the problem, Mr. Noble… I can't fix her.

Mr. and Mrs. Noble: WHAT!

Dr. Arkham: The thing is, I have somewhat of an understanding of her abilities but because her case is so unique I don't exactly know why she is like this or how to fix her.

Mr. Noble: What do you suggest we do then?

Dr. Arkham: Keep her here for the time being. After a few more months of therapy and perhaps a bit more analysis of her brain, we might be able to fully diagnose and cure her.

Mrs. Noble: Might be able to?

Dr. Arkham: Unless you would rather take her home and have me come visit her there?

Mr. and Mrs. Noble: NO!

Dr. Arkham: …

Mr. and Mrs. Noble: I – I mean… we just, we simply, uh… we're sure she'd be safer here.

Parents afraid of their own child, Strange thought. Not uncommon, especially in this asylum but considering how normal the little girl seemed, there must be more. He started the tape.

Dr. Arkham: Hello Mary. How are you this evening?

Mary: Can I have my book back?

Dr. Arkham: No, Mary. I'm sorry but I cannot allow that.

Mary: Why not?

Dr. Arkham: It is against the Asylum policy to allow patients access to their belongs before they have been cured and I believe that your little book of nursery rhymes is connected to your mental instability, judging from your tendency to quote and rhyme when you look into people.

Mary: (sighs) But it is so boring in the cell. It is cold and dark too.

Dr. Arkham: This isn't a daycare Miss Noble. Now, why do you look into the minds of other people?

Mary: I do not know… I cannot help it.

Dr. Arkham: You have no control over your abilities?

Mary: I do not… think so.

Dr. Arkham: Well, how about you try looking into the mind of someone purposefully, in an attempt to try and learn to control your mind?

Mary: Ok?

Dr. Arkham: Dr. Quinzel, you may come in.

(Door opens and closes)

Dr. Quinzel: Hello, Miss Noble, I'm Doctor Harleen Quinzel.

Mary: Harley Quinn.

Dr. Quinzel: … Yes, my name is similar to the clown character.

Dr. Arkham: Dr. Quinzel, as I previously mentioned, Miss Noble has a very special… ability that allows her to look into the minds of others and know things. Are you comfortable with her attempting to use her powers to look into you mind?

Dr. Quinzel: Sure, I got nothing to hide.

(Sound of someone sitting down. Pause.)

Mary: You treat the Joker?

Dr. Quinzel: Yes. I do.

Mary: You call him Mr. J.

Dr. Quinzel: Yeah.

Mary: You love him.

Dr. Quinzel: What.

Dr. Arkham: What?

(Dr. Quinzel laughs, though it sounds slightly nervous)

Dr. Quinzel: No. No, Miss Noble, I am not in love with him.

Mary: But you are! And you believe he loves you.

Dr. Quinzel: I'm not… He doesn't… (Dr. Quinzel takes a breath) You're lying.

Mary: I am not.

Dr. Quinzel: Yes you are.

Mary: I am not!

Dr. Quinzel: Yes. You. Are!

Mary: I! Am! NOT!

(The sound of chairs scrapping the floor, Dr. Quinzel screams)

Dr. Quinzel: AH! SHE BIT ME!

Dr. Arkham: Guards! GUARDS!

(Door opens and the sound of someone being dragged out)

Dr. Quinzel: I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE ACTUALLY BIT ME! AND IT HURT!

Dr. Arkham: It'll be fine Dr. Quinzel, she's had her shots. (Pause) But maybe we should get you to the infirmary… just in case.

Patient does not take kindly to being considered a liar, Strange noted. He chuckled to himself; had Dr. Arkham taken Miss Noble's word seriously, he could've prevented one of Arkham Asylum's greatest failures. But no, children were among the least heard and believed people in the world. Still chuckling, the Professor started the fourth and final tape.

Mr. Noble: It's been six months. We want progress, that's what we're paying you for.

Dr. Arkham: I already informed you, these things take time, effort, careful study, and a good amount of patience.

Mrs. Noble: Her brother's starting to ask questions. He knows something's up and it won't be long before he breaks down our door trying to find her.

Dr. Arkham: Why not simply tell him the truth?

Mrs. Noble: (laughs coldly) The truth? That we locked up our crazy little brat of a child in the nuthouse and are paying its top doctor to keep her hushed up and shut up? He'd probably break her out the moment he heard.

Dr. Arkham: And we can't have that, now, can we?

Mr. Noble: No, we can't. As respectable citizens of Gotham you can understand that we can't allow for certain… threats to be let out.

Mrs. Noble: Especially ones that could completely ruin our reputations.

Dr. Arkham: So, what exactly are you proposing?

Mr. Noble: Fake her death.

Dr. Arkham: I beg your pardon.

Mrs. Noble: Fake her death. Put on her file that she was killed during a prison riot or something. That gives you all the time in the world to cure her and as long as she's kept quiet, we'll guarantee you have all the resources you need.

Dr. Arkham: Well, I appreciate the offer… after all, my Asylum has been having many security snafus, especially as of late… what with the Batman and all.

Mr. Noble: Of course.

Mrs. Noble: You need the money, Dr. Arkham. All you have to do is keep quiet.

Dr. Arkham: … Very well. You have yourself a deal.

"Did you listen to the tapes?" Oracle inquired.

"Yeah," the Batman replied.

"I can't believe someone could lock up their own daughter in Arkham Asylum," Oracle admitted.

"I can," the Batman said.

"Of course you can, it's in you nature." Oracle sighed. "But still… she's only a kid."

"Can you track down all information on the Noble family?" the Batman asked.

"Already on it."

"Tell me when you have more on it. I'm going to see if Miss Noble can enlighten us as to her situation," the Batman said, signing off.

"Do you know why you are here Miss Noble?" Professor Strange inquired. Mary was seated across a table from him, looking around the room as though attempting to memorize it. It occurred to the Professor that this was likely the first time she had been out of her cell in years.

"I am here because I am different and crazy," Mary said.

"What makes you different and crazy?" Strange asked.

"I can see into other people's minds; see what they have seen; feel what they have felt. But I have difficulty not saying what I see. I cannot hold my tongue," Mary explained.

"Well what do you see in me?" Mary looked up at him and into his eyes she paused for a minute, studying him, before she began.

"Your name is Professor Strange. You are obsessed with the Batman. You work for the League of Assassins and for a man called the Demon."

"That is truly remarkable," Strange commented, his mind working at a thousand miles a second. Mary smiled.

"My parents did not think so," she said.

"Do you remember anything about your family, Miss Noble?" Strange asked. Mary looked at him then down at her lap.

"I… I am not sure," Mary stammered.

"Try and remember. It will help." Mary nodded and closed her eyes. She looked deep into her mind, searching for memories of something other than the cold blank cell and its infinite darkness. Then, slowly, but surely, her memories began to resurface. She remembered a man and a woman, always well dressed and smiling, except when they looked at her. She remembered looking at them and feeling as though they emitted disapproval and fear around her like a candle emits heat and light. She remembered other people like them, who always greeted her with smiles but whose smiles quickly turned to scowls and upturned noses when she began to talk. Mary started to curl into herself at these memories; she didn't want to remember those times, she wanted to remember the good times. So she searched, and sure enough she found them. She remembered a boy, older than her, with whom she used to laugh, and jump, and climb, and play. She remembered a time when used to smile, and love, and live. She remembered a time when she was free. "Miss Noble?" a distant accented voice echoed and Mary opened her eyes. She couldn't help but slump slightly in her seat when she remembered where she was. She wasn't with the boy who was nice and funny and played games with her, but with another Doctor who sought to poke into her mind and dissect it like a dead frog. "Miss Noble, what do you remember?" Mary sighed; she might as well cooperate, it wasn't like it would help her at this point.

"My mother and father were afraid of me. They locked me up. They did not want me and my madness," Mary stated. Strange looked at her oddly.

"They said that?"

"They did not have to. I could tell even without looking at them," Mary expressed and Strange nodded.

"What about your brother?" he questioned. At that Mary grinned in a way that made her look much more like a normal girl her age.

"He was nice. The nicest person I have ever known," she smiled. "He was fun. He played with me, made me laugh, and smile. He loved me when no one else did."

"Why do you think he did not come for you?" Strange inquired and Mary's smiled slipped off her face like raindrops.

"My parents lied to him. Because that is what they are: Liars, fakes, frauds," she said, her voice getting a little angrier with each word. "They wanted to keep me away so they locked me up, hid me, made me disappear." Realizing where she was, she looked at the Professor hopefully. "But now I… can go back to my brother and my home… right?" Strange looked her over. A girl with the ability to look into people's minds, who had no one looking for her and was in no way known or important. The professor smiled internally; yes, she could be very useful indeed.

"I'm sorry Miss Noble but I can't allow you go back to him just yet." Mary looked at him, crushed.

"Why not?" Mary asked

"Because I am in need of an assistant to help with researching the patients of the Asylum… and I think you would do perfectly."

"But–"

"I know, I know, you wish to go home to you family. But I promise you. Once I have finished my research, I will allow you to go home to your brother. Understood?" Mary looked like she wanted to protest but just sighed and nodded. "Good."

"I do not believe he ever intended on following through with his promise," Mary said.

"What makes you think that?" the Batman asked.

"He is – was – a liar, and he used people to get what he wanted," Mary stated. "Besides, he said he would keep me until his research was done, but he has been doing research his whole life. Chances are, if he had lived and Protocol 10 had been completed, I would have only been freed when he died." Mary laughed bitterly at that. "Though I suppose that is true in this case as well."