His first thought waking up was "what the hell is going on..."

He couldn't remember a single thing past killing his father... 'Bastard deserved it,' he thought. His neck hurt like a bitch though... And why was he on a cold metal table, under nothing but a sheet? He sat up and looked around trying to find out where he was. A metal tray sat to the right with a lot of sharp instruments on it. To the left of him there were some cabinets, a sink and some disinfectant wipes... He seemed to be in some sort of doctors office. He got off the table and tried getting to his feet, almost falling on his face the minute he stood up.

He took one of the lab coats from the corner and put it on his body, making sure to hide the scars that littered his torso and back. He figured that wherever he was, he was there for a reason, but he didn't want to be. So instead of taking the door where he had a high chance of getting caught by somebody, he slowly opened the window and hopped out. He took a few steps into the street, looking back at the building he had just been in. 'The precinct huh? Who wanted me naked on an operating table in there? And they call me a freak,' he thought

He tried to think of places to go, all the while ignoring the dull throbbing in his neck. He thought about going to rob a store for some clothes before realizing that he had absolutely nothing other than this lab coat... No gun, no knife... Then again, his face alone should be enough to get him what he wanted, but he decided against it nonetheless. He continued thinking about places to go, and continued coming up short.

And then he remembered... Theo Galavan. And everything came flooding back... The charity event, holding Bruce Wayne hostage, getting stabbed... He reached up and lightly touched his neck. That's what that is... He vaguely thought about killing the man, but remembered all the men he had working for him and changed his mind. Where in Gotham could someone like me go... He froze. Charlie.