Vanessa didn't arrive home until late that Friday night. The day itself had been rather uneventful. She'd been IT Director at Gotham University for about six months now and, as usual, the system had decided to crash at 4:30 that afternoon. By 11:00 that evening she'd managed to get things up and running again. Just before midnight she pulled into the driveway of their two bedroom townhouse in what could be considered mid-town Gotham although it was a little too close to the Narrows for her liking. Still it was a quiet area and she truly loved her home. Closing the front door behind her she made her way up the stairs to the master bedroom. Her husband was already fast asleep. Quietly she changed into her nightgown and crept into bed beside him as not to disturb his slumber. Rolling onto her side she saw that road below illuminated by street lamps. Snow had just begun to fall and she slowly drifted off to sleep as she watched the flakes hit the ground.

Sometime later (she had no idea how long she'd been asleep) she was awoken by an ear shattering pop. Completely disoriented she sat up in bed. The lights were on and two armed men wearing ski masks rushed her.

"Dan!" she cried out.

Her husband gave no response. Looking to her right she could see the reason why. He was still lying in bed, his eyes closed, sleeping peacefully save for the bullet hole that marred the center of his forehead.

"Oh my god!" she wailed as the men pulled her from bed. Her hands were bound behind her back and she was thrown into a chair in the corner of the room. Vanessa's mind reeled. She was unable to accept the events playing out before her very eyes. The men ransacked the house, moving from room to room and taking anything of value. Hadn't anyone heard the gunshot? Do the police even come to anyone's aid in Gotham anymore? Dan still lay on the bed. His pillow was now soaked with blood from the exit wound of the bullet. Vanessa was about to leave her seat and go to him when the men returned. She gave them both a quick look over trying to remember as much about their physical appearance as possible without making it obvious she was doing so. The man who had tied her up was the taller and leaner of the two. His large brown eyes actually looked kind. "I guess eyes aren't always the mirror to the soul" she thought. The other man was short and stocky. He also seemed to be the older of the two. His gravely voice told her that he had smoked many a cigarette in his day. Both men were Caucasian.

"The place is cleaned out. Let's get out of here before the cops show up.", the stocky man said.

The leaner man turned to his partner and said, "Cops don't come out this way anymore. Besides, we haven't taken everything of value yet."

He approached her and ran his hands up her thighs spreading her legs apart in the process. Vanessa kicked at him with all her strength. A few well placed kicks managed to knock him off balance and he fell to the floor. If he wanted a fight he'd come to the right place. She didn't realize it until now but she had been screaming obscenities and cursing at him since the moment he'd put his hands on her.

"God damn it. Shut this bitch up." He yelled to his partner.

Then she felt it. At first she didn't know what is was until the stocky man began to twist it tighter around her face. It was a black garbage bag and Vanessa was no longer getting any air. Every attempt to breath yielded nothing but a mouth or nose full of plastic. The lean man threw her to the floor. His quick hands tore at her nightgown. It was hard to believe but he was the least of her concerns at the moment. Her lungs screamed for air and she began to convulse violently. As her body gave out and she faded away she heard the sound of laughter and what she thought might be a police siren in the distance.

2 weeks later

"Where am I?"

The nurse standing in her room jumped a foot upon hearing the unexpected question.

"You're at Gotham General. My name is Julie. We're so glad that you're back with us. How are you feeling?"

For who knows how long Vanessa had been replaying the events of that night in a dream like state. She wasn't prepared to be back in reality and it hit her hard. Ignoring the nurse's inquiries she began to sob uncontrollably.

"Where's my husband? Is he OK?"

Julie paused briefly as if unsure of what to say. Finally she replied, "I'm sorry. By the time the police arrived it was too late. I'm afraid he's gone."

Vanessa closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around herself protectively and began to rock back and forth. "It was my fault." she said. "I was the last one home. I was supposed to double check all the locks and I forgot. It's all my fault."

The heart rate monitor by her bed indicated that her pulse and blood pressure were rising rapidly. The subsequent alarms that sounded only served to agitate her more. Julie backed out of the room. Clearly sensing she was in over her head.

"I'm going to page Dr. Crane. Just try to relax. I'll be right back."

Vanessa was alone again. She stared into the mirror on the wall across from her. She barely recognized the woman that looked back. Her black hair lay flat, nearly plastered to her head. She guessed it hadn't been washed or combed since that night. Her hazel eyes looked dull and faded. They were blood shot and framed by dark circles. She was as pale as a ghost with the exception on two red lines running across her forehead and the bridge of her nose. Four large scratches loomed dangerously close to her right eye and her neck was still swollen and bruised. That was only the external damage. Internally was a much more complicated story. She decided to focus on the external for now. Had she been scratched by one of her attackers? She didn't think so. Vanessa was still contemplating the issue when the door to her room opened again. Julie had returned and this time a young man was with her. This must be Dr. Crane she thought. Only he hardly looked old enough to be a Dr. If she had to guess she would say he was in his mid-twenties, maybe five years younger than her. Glasses framed his startling blue eyes. He was dressed in a charcoal grey suit with a white dress shirt and a blue tie that accented his eyes nicely. He held himself with such a degree of calm and serenity that Vanessa felt herself immediately begin to relax just watching him.

Before Julie could make an introduction Dr. Crane pushed past her and placed his hand over Vanessa's.

"Mrs. Martinez, I'm Dr. Jonathan Crane. I'm Director of Arkham Asylum and I'll be overseeing your treatment personally. I want you to know that I'm here for you whenever you need me."

"Am I going to the asylum?" she asked. "I'm not crazy."

"I don't doubt that for a minute Mrs. Martinez. You'll be transferred to Arkham's minimum security wing. You won't have any contact with the criminally insane I can assure you. However, I do feel you need inpatient care, at least in the beginning. You've been through a terrible ordeal."

"I know. Julie told me what happened. My husband is dead." Vanessa chocked on those last words as tears welled in her eyes.

Dr. Crane broke eye contact with Vanessa for the first time since he'd entered the room. His gaze turned to Julie in that moment, flashing her a look that could kill. Julie shifted her weight from foot-to-foot finally focusing her eyes on the floor to avoid looking at him. Dr. Crane turned his attention back to Vanessa.

"In any event, you'll be moved to Arkham as soon as I consult with your physician and get the OK for your release. That could be as early as two days from now. In the mean time please take my card. It has my office number and on the back you'll find my home and cell phone numbers. Please don't hesitate to call me at any time."

"Thank you Dr. Crane. I appreciate that more than you know."

He squeezed her hand lightly before turning to leave the room. As he opened the door and stepped into the hallway he turned to Julie.

"May I have a word with you outside please nurse?"

Julie followed Dr. Crane down the hall. When they were little more than ten paces from Vanessa's door he stopped her short.

"Tell me Julie….Are you a doctor?"

"No Dr. Crane. I'm an R.N."

"Yes, I see. That's what your name tag indicates. So tell me Julie, where do you get off informing a patient who has just awakened from a catatonic state that her husband has been murdered before obtaining a psychiatric consult?"

His cold blue eyes drilled into her so deeply that she felt her resolve start to slip. Holding back tears she managed to say, "I'm sorry Dr. Crane. I just thought that she needed to know."

"I'm the one that does the thinking around here, not you. Is that clear?"

"Yes Dr. Crane" she replied.

"Good. I want her placed under suicide watch for her remaining days at this hospital and make sure that order carries over to her stay at Arkham as well. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yes, but do you really think that's necessary? She doesn't seem suicidal to me."

Dr. Crane drew in a deep breath before calmly saying, "Thanks to you and your penchant for sharing it most certainly is. I would have liked to have given her the news of her husbands death myself and in a more controlled and gentle way. Your talent for being blunt has put her life in danger. So to answer your question, yes it's necessary. Make sure it gets done immediately."

"Right away Dr. Crane."

Julie turned and began walking to the elevators. Halfway there she heard Dr. Crane speak again.

"And Julie." He called after her, "Pull a stunt like that again and it will cost you your job."

This time Julie turned and sped towards the elevator in something that fell just short of a sprint. The sooner she could get away from that self-important SOB the better.