Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of this fanfiction with the pure exception of Michael Saul and several other characters. Characters such as Batman, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze and others belong to DC Comics and their respective creators/corporation.
This is actually my second attempt in writing fanfiction. I had written one about Lucky Star a few years back but, I haven't had the time to get back to it.
I would like people to review and note mistakes if you will. I will be re-editing the story once I've come to a stumbling block.
Thank you and enjoy!
The sound of the rattling of iron bars radiated throughout the hallways. The maniacal laughter of one patient-cum-inmate echoed through the cells surrounding. The others around him were shouting nonsensical, undecipherable mutterings. He, the madman in white, wrapped in a straitjacket pounded the cold, hard, black iron bars with his bare feet.
Burst into the rooms were seven burly men with thick arms and broad shoulders, stampeding through the hallway in unison and hurriedly to the cell of the madman. They were dressed in light green gowns like a surgeon but, instead of removing a tumor or fixing a palpitating heart, they brought with them a syringe and an attitude to knock the sanity into the madman.
"Come on!" screamed the madman in white. "All I want is to have a little fun before Christmas… AND YOUR DEATH WILL DECK MY HALLS!"
The burly men responded back with violence, a fist to the madman's jaw and torso. They forced their knees and fists into regions hurtful to men, only to hear a chuckle out of his mouth. The madman continued to overpower the large men, kicking them to the walls of his cell with his still free feet. He bit the orderlies but, they were accustomed to the bites that it did not hurt them anymore.
"STOP HITTING MY PUDDIN'," screamed a woman in the cell next to the madman as one of the men restrained her to a wall. The screaming from the madman, the wailing from his female lover/accomplice and the rowdy cheering from the asylums around them truly made this madhouse a mad house.
Then, he entered through the door. He stopped at the doorframe, adjusted his tie and closed the door behind softly. He walked slowly, heel to toe, towards the overwhelmed orderlies. The orderlies were now able to hold his arms and legs, but his head flailed around wildly, laughing into their faces. The madman stared at the man wearing the tie and laughed maniacally.
"Well, Dr. Saul. It's a pleasure to see you so late at night," greeted sarcastically the madman. The guards struggled as he tried to lunge at the doctor.
"Good evening, Mr. Joker," smiled Michael genuinely. He took out his notepad, not looking at the Joker and continued, "What are you doing that is keeping these nice men from doing their jobs?"
"I'm not doing anything, Doc. I'm just trying to escape so they can actually do their jobs."
Saul laughed. "Heh, funny. Now, why won't we all just calm down before anyone gets hurt?"
Joker stared at the ground. He stopped writhing in the hands of the orderly. His maniacal face turned to remorse. His body became limp and the guards did not grip him as hard.
"Alright, doc. I'll play along," said the Joker in a remorseful voice.
The orderlies place the Joker on the floor with a force. He stared at the ground for a few more seconds as Michael continued writing his notes. The orderlies stepped back and within that instance, the smiling grimace on Joker's face reappeared, staring at the doctor's back. He laughed to himself and began his attack the doctor.
In that instance, Michael heard that snicker. As the Joker moved, he paced the Joker's movement with his grab for his suitcase. At the moment that he lunged at the doctor, Michael gracefully turned around in a 180 degree, hitting the Joker in the face with his suitcase. This sent the Joker to the wall with Michael now staring at the Joker, preparing to counter the attack.
Joker wiped his saliva off his cheeks and lunged at the doctor, laughing once more. Michael stood still, waiting for the madman to arrive to his position. At that precise moment where the Joker was about to hit him, Michael simply let the Joker move pass him and to his back. He then quickly turned around to the oncoming madman on the reverse, hitting the madman's face with his hard elbow. The Joker was dazed and fell to the floor. Then, Michael grabbed the Joker by his collar and locked his head between the iron bars. He then continued to punch the back, knee the abdomen and elbow the middle of the madman's back. He then took his head out and dumped the unconscious and beaten body of the Joker into his cell.
"Gentlemen, that is HOW you deal with an unreasonable patient," said Michael, sighing, looking at the orderlies while adjusting his tie. He took his pen from his shirt pocket and clicked it.
Suddenly, the semi-conscious Joker rose and prepared for his last onslaught. Michael was prepared for that attack too and he turned around, punched the Joker in the face once more and injected the pen to the Joker's neck. The syringe-pen injected the Joker with a powerful sedative that made the madman slump onto the doctor's body in the instant. Saul pushed the body away from his, aiming for the raised cot. He missed and the guards just looked at the guard.
Looking at the confused guards, Michael irritatingly and embarrassedly uttered, "I-I-I'm a doctor, not a basketball player. Put him on his cot and let's go."
As he walked past the now crying mad woman, Michael stopped at her cell to only say, "Harleen, this isn't Jerusalem. Shut up, stop whining and get some sleep before I knock your teeth out."
Michael walked through the door and closed it behind him. While the orderlies moved the lifeless body of the Joker, Harleen stared at the doctor for a moment and knew that he was serious. He was always in a bad mood with her and her puddin'. She knew that the best thing to do for now was to keep her big mouth shut. She knew Michael was a sane man and a nice person. She worked with him once before and she was not surprised that he did not take any lip service from anyone. She crawls back into her cot and slept in the grey, uncomfortable wool blanket with the rock-hard pillow as support for her head and neck.
The cells gregarious laughter died quickly as Michael left the hall. The guards locked the cell door and turned off the lights.
Michael Saul is a daytime psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. Dealing with disturbed villains and criminals of Gotham City is his job. Usually, he would sit with patients like Mr. Freeze or Arnold Wesker to talk about their problems. Saul recognized that whenever he had a breakthrough with his patients, when they were set free, they'd come back three months later, worse than before.
Today, as he was about to leave for the evening, the Joker was up to his antics of trying to escape. With other people if they were on staff, he would be successful in escaping although he often left his Harley Quinn behind. However, most orderlies and doctors knew that with Michael around, no insane man would leave the asylum in one piece if they decided to paint the grey walls and grey floors of their cells with blood. It would be festive if the halls to the cells were painted a tint of red and green but, as much as it was the season of festivities, Saul could not let anything up with these people. They are here to be rehabilitated in a psychological and societal sense. Michael casts himself as the king of this domain. He had to for an inkling of these infirmed people to get better, a sense of understanding and discipline went both ways. Many disagreed with him but, he did not care. He was there for the patients and nothing more.
Saul knew his place.