Full Summary: Growing up in the Narrows, the worst part of Gotham, made Kate Mercer familiar with all the filth that surrounded her toxic town. She knew that no dark knight would come and save her. After all, a lone girl living in Gotham was bound to die. But just because this city was going to drive Kate to her death, didn't mean she was going to go down without leaving her tainted mark. And in the midst of all the filth that surrounded her, she might have found the perfect person to help her. John Blake/OC
Rating: At the moment, the story is rated T, having only mild language and violence, but later on, I will change the rating to M, having more darker and explicit scenes. This story is going to delve into some dark themes, but this is the Nolanverse, so what else did you expect?
Disclaimer: I'm only going to say this once and never again, but I do not own anything related to Nolan interpretation of Batman or his character's or plot. Anything original character and dialogue is mine. Which means, although not a Nolan character, but the character of Dr. Penelope Young does not belong to me. I'm just going to do a loose interpretation of her. So, she's going to be very OOC, for those who recognized her character.
Author's Note: Hello, there, to anybody there who is reading. I have no idea when I'm going to be updating. I just decided to publish this story for the fun of it. So, there at times going to be long periods of wait. I apologize in advance, but I can promise that the waits won't be a year. And lastly, I would love to hear what you thought of this chapter. I'm treading into uncharted territory and if I make a mistake with a fact, don't hesitate to tell me.
Thanks again for reading this and I hope you enjoy the chapter :)
Chapter One: Same Old Bullshit
Dr. Kate Mercer dealt with mentally ill people every day, in and out of work. But she preferred to deal with the ones at work than at home. Kate had often considered it as an unnecessary gift of irony from the universe. It was like it was trying to tell her that if she can handle her issues, she could handle others.
Give her a fucking break.
This is such bullshit, Kate had thought angrily when she was handed her prescription seven years ago. She didn't need more problems added to her life. She had enough of them already.
And a part of her back then, the naive and reckless side, had tried to rebel. Refused to deal with the added burden, and continued on with her life as if nothing had changed. But it proved to be difficult. Things had changed, for the worse. Kate realized she had to get her shit together if she wanted to move forward.
By instinct, Kate's eyes darted to the analog clock that hung in front of her desk. The numbers were fading—the clock had already been there when she got her office four years ago—making it nearly impossible for her to see what time it was. But Kate didn't need it. Her body already knew that it was time for her daily dose.
Opening the drawer to her right, Kate picked up her prescription bottle and shook it, closing her eyes when she heard one single pill rattle inside. She needed to get a refill. She reluctantly opened them and turned the bottle to read the prescription. She was sure she had one last refill, but she wouldn't be able to take her prescription to the pharmacy that day. She had too much to do at work. She probably wouldn't leave around ten o'clock, maybe even midnight.
She internally groaned at the idea of taking the ferry at midnight again. Pushing aside her worries, Kate unscrewed the cap and popped the last pill drowning it with the coffee she didn't finish in the morning. And like always, she made a face of displeasure of the bitter taste that was left in her mouth.
Kate couldn't do anythi g but grip the empty prescription bottle, her nails digging into the hard plastic. She focused on the computer monitor in front of her, internally counting to two hundred. It was stupid, but she always liked to take a few minutes to see if the newly swallowed drug had affected her mood.
She wasn't in a hurry, allowing herself to waste a few minutes. The day had been slow at the prison. It was rare when that happened, but instead of relaxing Kate, it always put her on edge. In Blackgate there was no such thing as a slow day. Something always happened.
"Kathrine, what have I told you about this mess?"
Halfway through her counting, Kate stopped and immediately straightened up. She quickly hid the empty bottle in her drawer, slamming it too forcefully, and focused her attention on the woman that was by her door.
"Yes, Dr. Young? How can help you?" Kate said, her mouth going into an automatic smile and placed her hands on the desk.
Dr. Penelope Young was the head psychiatrist of Blackgate Prison. Initially, she had taken over the role back in Arkham Asylum after the disappearance of the former head, Dr. Jonathan Crane. At the time that happened, Kate hadn't been working there, but she had always wondered if they made a mistake with picking Dr. Young.
Although incredibly driven by perfection and intelligence, Dr. Young lacked compassion, patience and seemed to favor certain patients over other. She also refused to hire more staff members, claiming that she needed a close circle of people in her psych ward.
I want to know everything. The more we are, the less I know. And in my cell block, I want no secrets, Dr. Young had told everybody that day after she let go half of the staff. Secrets are not for us.
Back then, eager to please Kate had wholeheartedly agreed and even went as far as to write down the entire quote, to keep a reminder. She cringed at the reminder how she used to worship the ground Dr. Young walked. And maybe the reason she hated thinking about her younger self-attitude toward the older psychiatrist was that there was still a part of her that craved for her approval.
Dr. Young was still eyeing her desk with distaste. Kate unconsciously tried to shuffle the paper into a pile but was halted by Dr. Young. She simply raised her hand, making Kate freeze.
"Maybe another night. I have somewhere to be in a few minutes. Can't waste it with ordering you to clean your desk."
"Of course, I'm sorry. How can I help you, Dr. Young?"
"Did you finish filling out the release forms for the patient that's being released this week? The one who killed his sister."
Kate frowned at the vague description. That could literally be anybody in cell block D. "Can you be more specific on with patient are you talking about?"
Dr. Young looked irritated. "The one that we talked about yesterday. The one who was brought it six months ago. I can't remember his name at the moment, but it doesn't matter."
Kate again frowned to herself and immediately started pushing papers to the side, looking for the file she had purposely pushed to the side. She hissed when she got a paper cut and tried to ignore the grueling look she was receiving from the doctor. She sucked it while continue looking for the damn file.
"Kathrine. I do not have the time to waste. Where is the file?"
"Right of course. Just... give me a second... do you mean... Joel Carter?" she asked uncertainly, finding the file under all her paperwork. It was thick, papers almost spilling out, and there were creases in the edges.
"Yes, him. Is it finished? I want to get over with. I have many appointments to attend tomorrow, so I need the file right now. I want him to be released by the end of the week, the latest."
Kate bit her lower lip, unhappy with what she was hearing. She flipped open the file and skimmed it, although it wasn't necessary. She was familiar with Joel and already knew what she was going to find. Her eyes zoomed in to her latest notes, nothing promising.
"Kathrine. What's the matter?"
"I haven't finished the form," Kate told her hesitantly, picking her nails under the desk.
The doctor narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
Kate straightened up and put her hands on the table, unconsciously smoothed out the file. "He's one of my patients, and I don't agree with releasing him," she explained patiently. "He's done a bit of progress, but not enough. He's still hallucinating and he still calls—"
"Kathrine," Dr. Young interrupted her, giving her a saccharine smile, the one that Kate loathed so much. The one that told Kate that she is right and Kate is wrong. "We've been over this. You oversight his progress, but I make the final choice."
"I understand—"
"I don't think you do. If you did then you would see he's fit to leave." Dr. Young emphasized on the last word, her gray eyes narrowing dangerously.
"Yes. He's close to what's considered normal when he's force fed his medications. Which is every day," Kate explained patiently, trying to hide her frustration.
Dr. Young manner changed abruptly. She was done listening to her. "Kathrine, fill it out. I want it tonight. I don't care if you have to stay until four in the morning, but I want it by my desk before you leave. Are we clear, Kathrine?"
Kate opened and closed her mouth, but when she received a dangerous look from Dr. Young, she nodded tersely. "Alright, I understand. I'll have it ready by the end of the day."
"Just like it should have. Kathrine, I'm very disappointed in you," Dr. Young said, her tone sounding like she was talking to a five-year-old. Kate tried to ignore how her stomach dropped at those repulsing words. "You weren't like this, Kathrine. You were so disciplined. I hope I wasn't wrong about you."
"N–no, it's just..." Kate tried to form a coherent sentence but was unable. She was to stun by Dr. Young reprimand. It was like she had slapped her in the face with a brick.
Disappointed. I hope I wasn't wrong about you.
Dr. Young was disappointed in Kate. She thought she was a mistake. What the hell was wrong with her? Dr. Young had no right to say that to her, especially after everything Kate has done for her. She has put her career on the line for her and that's how she treats her?
"Dr. Young," Kate finally said in a determined voice. "I will not—no. I was just doing what I thought was best for Mr. Carter. I want the best for my patients."
Dr. Young stared at her and the corner of her lips curled up. "I really do wonder if I made the right choice with you, Kathrine. I wouldn't want to make drastic changes, especially with all the work that lies ahead of us."
"No. Of course not, Dr. Young. You're not going to change our future plans?" Kate asked hesitantly, remembering their previous conversation. Dr. Young seemed to understand what she was saying but made no effort to elaborate. "You're not going to remove me from our research, are you"
"I sure hope not. A lot is at stake, Kathrine, and for you to ruin everything? That would be unacceptable. I still expect you to continue your work."
Without another word, Dr. Young turned around swiftly and left a stunned and irritable Kate alone, not bothering to close the door behind her.
"Are you—?… Ugh." Kate exhaled loudly and rubbed her face in frustration, trying to regain her composure.
After a few seconds, Kate pushed herself up, the chair scraping against the aluminum floor, and went to violently slam the door shut. The portraits hanging on the wall rattled loudly, on the verge of falling to the ground. Kate honestly didn't care if they fell and broke into a million pieces. She had always hated them.
She stalked back to her desk and flopped down on the chair. She winced in pain when her butt hit the metal. She dropped her hand and, on an impulsive move, slammed her hands on her desk, making papers fly off the to the ground.
"Fuck. Fuck," she said loudly, pulling the roots of her hair in frustration.
Kate hated when Dr. Young did that. Force her to work day and night on a disturbed inmate, evaluated them and deal with the psychotic episodes. And then for her to ignore all the hardworking she did, the trouble she went through, and to make the final choice.
She didn't know what to do. She could either defy the direct orders from Dr. Young or do what she thought it was best. It was stupid how difficult the choice was. Dr. Young did that on purpose. She picked in the insecurities Kate had tried so hard to shed over the years and used them against her. No matter what Kate believed, she would never go against Dr. Young word.
Don't be pathetic and do something for yourself once, a small voice whispered to her. She doesn't own you.
She bristled and tried to ignore it. She wasn't overly fond of that voice. It was the defiant part of Kate, who had tried hard to understand Dr. Young's final decision, still believed that Joel Carter was not fit to be back on the streets of Gotham. He was too erratic. Too angry. Too delusional. He could barely pass as acceptable when he took his medication, and that was a rare occasion.
She had done Carter's psych evaluation and somehow miraculous passed, which instantly made Kate suspicious. How could a man who was wholeheartedly convinced that Kate was the reincarnation of his deceased sister, could pass that evaluation?
She didn't know how, but he had done something to tamper with his results. Kate had told her suspicious to Dr. Young and even provided all her notes that she took during their sessions. She had been dismissed and promised by the head psychiatrist that they would look it over.
Kate couldn't understand why Dr. Young insisted on his release.
"'Actually, it's because he's more of a liability here in Blackgate than in Gotham. We don't need more problems,'" Kate said mockingly, repeating what she had been told a few days ago. She glared at the file and slammed on the desk, frustrated.
Not having a choice, unless she wanted to get fired, Kate started filling out the release form for Joel Carter. She had lost track of time, too absorbed with her work that she almost missed the phone ringing.
"Dr. Mercer," she answered distractedly, and picked up her pen, carelessly signing forms that had been due the day before but hadn't had the time with all the issues that occurred that week. She sighed tiredly when she realized that it was one of the guards calling her, informing her that one of the patients was acting out and that she was needed. "Yes, I'll be there in a short while," she said and stood up. "Has Dr. Young been informed?"
"Yes, doctor. She's the one who ordered that you be sent," the guard confirmed.
"Of course, she did," Kate muttered under breath. She had refused to discharge a patient, she got to deal with the most violent one. "Alright, thank you. Please do not agitate the patient, it will only make everything worse."
"Yes, doctor."
"Hold on, hold on. What exactly did Dr. Young say?"
"That you weren't doing anything at the moment, doctor, and that you were planning on leaving the prison late."
"It seems that I don't have much of a choice," Kate said unable to hide her bitterness. Promptly, she hung up and started carelessly tossing files into her drawers. Minutes later, a knock on the door, broke her concentration and she called them in. As expected, one of the guards entered and offered her a polite smile.
"Are you ready, Dr. Mercer?"
As a safety precaution, Kate was to always be accompanied by a guard when she would go to the most dangerous cell blocks. Kate didn't see the difference it made with having a guard with her. If they wanted to attack her, they would attack her. Someone in a uniform wasn't going to chance that. She had scars to prove it.
"Yes. Let's go. God knows what is happening over there," she said and walked past the threshold into the empty hall.
"It's a little crazy in there, doctor," the guard warned, walking beside her. "You could get hurt. Or worse, you could die. Wouldn't be surprised."
"I was hoping you would say that."
The guard looked at her wryly, but she ignored him. She was used to the chaos that surrounded her.
Walking down the hall, Kate could hear the inmate's voices bouncing off the seemingly thin walls, along with the clanging against the rusting metal, the rushing noise going through the old pipes, and the clicking noise her heels made when the hit the floor.
She felt a strange comfort at the obnoxious noise. It seemed to be the only thing that never changed, and from how things were going, she wanted to hold on to that small piece of normalcy, even if it meant accepting the insanity that surrounded her.
Like she said, Kate Mercer preferred to deal with the crazies at work, then the ones at home.