He had never met anyone like the girl before him. The only thing he knew about her was that she killed someone, and that any lawyer would be able to get her off by claiming insanity. No sane person would come skipping into the station, literally, pick him out from all other officers and detectives in the precinct, drop herself into his lap and challenge him to figure out who she killed. She hadn't said a word about her crime since the initial statement, but she wouldn't stop talking otherwise.
It was raining outside; that the detective was able to deduce from her soaking wet clothes and dripping hair. He temporarily passed her off to a female cop and told her to get the girl something dry to change into and then to put her in the interrogation room. Then he brought Harvey and the chief up to speed.
"You don't even know her name?" Chief Essen asked.
"No, you know everything I know." Gordon told her, "Except that her favorite colors green."
"She's an upper level student at Anders. Or at least she was wearing a uniform for an upper level student." Harvey informed.
"It's a start," Essen declared. "Bullock, take her mug shot to the school and see if anyone recognizes her. Gordon, see what you can get out of her. But take everything she says with a grain of salt, we don't know how reliable her word."
She was humming when he entered the room, the tone reminding him of a Jack-in-the-box toy. Her school uniform had been entered into evidence, and the small auburn haired teen was given a too-large pair of sweet pants and an oversize police academy t-shirt. Dried blood was coating the parts of her skin shielded from the rain, and was beginning to flake.
"How are you?" James asked, sitting down across from her.
"I'm kinda hungry, I didn't get ta eat after school," She answered, "But ya don't really care, do ya? Ya don't even know mah name. If ya ask really nicely, and if ya know the magic word, I might just tell ya."
James sighed, but decided to play along. It would save time in the long run. "Will you please tell me your name?"
"Why would I do that?" The girl asked, "If I tell ya mah name then you'll just put meh in jail. I wouldn't do so well in jail! I'm tiny, yah see, barely five three. They'll eat meh alive! I've heard stories about Blackgate, and trust meh babes, it ain't pretty."
"No judge will send you to Blackgate, I promise you that." It was clear as day, the girl before him was not sane and there was only one place where she could possibly end up.
She raised an eyebrow, "Ya do remember that I killed someone, right? The judge 'as gotta put meh somewhere."
"There are places that will help you, the judge will send you to one of them. Now, will you tell me why you are here?"
"Do ya have memory issues or somethin'? I told ya, I killed somebody."
"You're very literal. Let's try this again, tell me you name, age, and who you killed."
"Oh! Ya should have just said that. Let's see… well, first off, I have been on this lovely planet for the past seventeen years as of next week, and when I got home from school today mah step-daddy went ah bit too far so I stabbed him in the throat with ah fork. And mah name's Eleanor, but ya can call me Ellie. Most people do."
"Move it, freak. We don't have all day." One of the orderlies escorting Ellie to the common area ordered, pushing her forward. She stumbled over her feet and feel to the ground, barely managing to break her fall.
"Watch it, yah meatheads!" Ellie scolded the Arkham Asylum workers. Her accented voice drew the attention of the inmates loitering in the common area. "I'm delicate."
"You deserve what you get," An orderly spat, yanking Ellie up from the floor as the other unlocked the gate. "All you nut jobs do."
Ellie was shoved through the gate unceremoniously, once again falling to her hands and knees. She turned over and inspected the skin on her knees. "I told yah to watch it! I wasn't lyin' when I said I was delicate, and now I'm gonna be sportin' a pair of bruised knees without even getting' ta do anythin' fun ta cause it."
"Careful freak, you don't want to give any of the other inmates any ideas now, do you?" One of the orderlies taunted as he locked her away.
Ellie cocked her head to the side and widened her eyes and then, without any other warning, burst into a psychotic laughter, one that would haunt the orderlies' dreams for weeks to come.
The pair took off, not wanting to stick around longer than necessary. "What?" She called after them as the scurried down the hall, "Don'tcha like mah laugh?"
The laugh slowed as Ellie watched her man handlers disappear around the corner.
"About time someone fun was admitted," A voice spoke up behind the teen. She spun her body around and stared up at the ginger boy before her.
"Did ya like mah laugh?" Ellie asked, holding her hand out for him to help her up.
"I loved your laugh," The boy told her, making her beam with joy, as he took her offered hand. He pulled her up and used his other hand to press her body closer to his. "What's your name, beautiful?"
Ellie liked the way the boy talked, it was like he took genuine amusement from everything he saw. "Ellie Q."
The boy lifted Ellie's hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. "I'm Jerome," he introduced himself, "and I believe with all my heart, beautiful, that this is just the beginning of our story."