Disclaimer: "Everything about Batman: The Animated Series belongs to DC, Warner Bros. and its creators, so unfortunately for me, I don't own B:TAS version of Jervis Tetch. The only things I own is this story and my OC(s)."
A/N: "This was a plot bunny that kept hopping around my head for quite some time. I was at least able to ignore it at first, but then the White Rabbit evolved into the March Hare and drove me mad so I had no choice but to write this down. This is my first try on the realm of B:TAS and on Jervis so please be kind." ~ sankage
- Chapter 1 -
Tired and quite sleepy from the long walk that started from Arkham all the way to the docks, Jervis Tetch found himself in an abandoned toy warehouse which had then become his only shelter from the rain.
He groaned slightly as he entered and made his way deeper into the warehouse, and then sat on the very first thing he set eyes on; a wooden crate. As he buried his face in his gloved hands, his thoughts fleetingly wandered about to what the morning paper might say once Arkham sends out the news about his escape.
"Oohhh..." he groaned again, dropping one hand but keeping the other still pressed to his forehead. "'What day of the month is it?'" he then asked himself, quoting from his beloved book and/or from his beloved Lewis Carroll.
Apparently Jervis wasn't quite certain about the exact time, all he could comprehend was that it was very early in the morning that the sun hasn't come out yet. So then explains his sleepiness since he had stayed awake all night back in his cell at Arkham to wait for the opportune time. If those people at the asylum thought he needed high-tech devices for escaping, they were absolutely wrong; now that's a mad genius. Simple things such as a spring from a mattress for instance could be helpful enough. Besides, he had his own ways in Arkham to gather other parts that he needed.
Yawning, he glanced around to see if there was anything that could make as a bed for him. A few minutes later, he was gathering five other wooden crates and was placing each side-by-side with the crate he had sat on previously. He then found a tattered tarpaulin and placed it on the crates, covering the wooden boxes like so. As he removed his blue overcoat and folded it into a small make-shift pillow, he climbed on his "bed" and tried to catch some sleep, not forgetting to remove his black top hat and placing it on top of his chest with one hand clutching it at the brim.
No sooner than he had closed his eyes, he had drifted into a dreamless sleep...
The beeping sound went on until the sleeping figure at the nearby desk finally sat up straighter on the chair, rather slowly. As she blinked a few times to focus her vision, the blurred image she was looking at became the night lamp.
Lazily getting up from the desk, Alexania Erewaker slowly walked over to the direction of her bed and was going for the alarm clock that was on top of a drawer beside the headboard. After having turned off the alarm, she gazed down on the time and slightly scowled at it when it read 4:30 in the early morning.
Why in Gotham is my alarm set on 4:30?, she had thought to herself and annoyingly replaced the digital clock on the drawer.
Stretching out her arms overhead, she went back to the desk and found a blank piece of paper on it. As she silently cursed to herself, it dawned upon her that she must have fallen asleep while trying to think of a plot for her new story. Actually, she didn't know how to begin it.
Though she already had an idea for what the story would be about; a normal man living a boring life who fell for a girl but gets rejected and in the end becomes insane. That's her trademark as a writer, see.
If Shakespeare is known for his beautiful tragedies and humorous comedies; if Marquis de Sade is notorious for his "sadistic" fictions of perversions; Alex on the other hand was well known to her readers and critiques alike for writing about fictional people who becomes insane or psychopaths by near end of the story.
The trick to it was that she uses different circumstances that leads for her characters' insanity. Her stories revolves around all the bad things the main character goes through and how it affects the character into finally losing his/her mind, and so being enveloped by the darkness that is madness for the finale.
Not even she herself knew why exactly does she writes such stories. Once she had told herself that perhaps it was because of her unusual fascination on how a person can be declared insane. In which this may also be the reason why she was more curious about Gotham's Rogues Gallery and their "conditions" rather than simply being afraid of them. Not that she doesn't fear them but curiosity had won over fear every time she would turn it over in her mind.
After pondering on the thought of whether she should try again on the story or get breakfast first, she chose to tuck herself to bed when she had turned off the night lamp on the desk.
"Your morning paper, sir."
Alfred Pennyworth had entered the wide dinning room where both Bruce Wayne and young Dick Grayson was having their breakfast.
It was already half-past seven in the morning, and the two that were at the table were doing their best to eat without so much as flinching every now and then each time they'd feel an ache on some parts of their upper body, which simply could not be helped since the encounter with Killer Croc last night was quite a fight and/or a struggle.
"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce had said as he took the newspaper from the butler's gloved hand.
The cup of hot coffee had froze mid-way to Bruce's mouth after having read the headlines. This wasn't left unnoticed by Dick and so asked with a hint of concern in his voice.
"What is it?" the young man had asked. "Robbery? Kidnapping? Murder? Or something plain crazy?"
"Tetch escaped from Arkham," Bruce replied, not taking his eyes off the paper and finally able to take a drink from his coffee. "Earlier just this morning. Much earlier."
"So, we'll go looking for him tonight?" said Dick; it wasn't entirely a question.
"We don't do anything until he comes out of the open." Bruce had set down the newspaper aside on the table, his eyes on the young man this time. "He's out so I'm sure he'll try to do something, that way will be easier for us than just looking for him."
Looking up from where he was about to take a sip from his own coffee, Dick quirked up a dark brow but then shrugged.
"You're the boss, and it isn't a bad idea. Besides, we can take him."
Elbows placed on the table and both hands in front of him with fingers tangled together, Bruce continued to look serious as he added, "But we'd still be going on patrol tonight."
"Yes, and while you're at it, sir," chimed in Alfred who still present near the table where he was silently listening to the two, "let me remind you about your 8:30 meeting."
The expressions on Bruce's face somehow lighted up, as he snapped his head to look up towards his butler. "Meeting? What meeting?"
Ah, so Batman flew away, and Bruce Wayne was the one present...
"The meeting you had your secretary scheduled today, sir," replied Alfred. "The board meeting, or have you forgotten?"
"I set the date myself?" asked Bruce, as though still in the process of trying to remember about said meeting. When Alfred quirked up a brow, Bruce just looked down on his wristwatch.
"Right," said Bruce. "Well, I don't think I'll be late. I still have time."
Dick was smirking to himself under the cup as Bruce started eating his breakfast which was hardly touched since it was placed on the table, while Alfred shook his head as he went along.
"Very good, sir. I'll tell the driver to go get the car ready."
When Alex finally got to work, it was already 9:30 and the first thing that greeted her was the angry nagging of her boss, demanding she explain herself why she was late but wasn't even letting her answer the question. The other employees around just watched and kept quiet, forgetting their works for a moment.
"Time is important here, Alex! I was waiting for you to submit your work, and when I said at eight o'clock, I mean eight o'clock!"
Except for being a writer, Alex worked for a magazine company as a columnist. Her job would have been easier if it wasn't for her boss...
"Not earlier than that, and certainly not later than that! Though it would have been better if you were earlier... Look, don't get me wrong, I like you but... Are you listening to me?"
Alex looked up from where she was so boringly scribbling on a piece of paper on her desk inside her cubicle.
"Yes, Miss Fi...I mean, yes, Mister Fitzralph."
She forced a charming smile to her third-sex boss, but was imagining of strangling said gay man with her own bare hands.
"Oh, stop that!" spat her boss. "Now, where's the new article for your column?"
Alex looked down on the held out hand for a moment before pulling out a folder from her drawer and handed it over. When the folder was taken, Mr. Fitzralph looked about to glare at the other employees, who went back to their respective works in each of their cubicles the moment he turned to them. After one final glare at Alex, Mr. Fitzralph went walking back to his office. The very moment he turned his back, it was Alex's turn to glare.
When the boss finally disappeared behind the door, Alex continued to glare at the piece of paper full of doodles that was still on her desk. Her attention was only drifted to another when she heard a light tap from the neighboring cubicle.
"You OK back there, Alex?"
It was Tobias Gray, or as well known to most of the employees, simply "Tobi". He wasn't a friend of sort to Alex, but seemed to be the only one who somehow listens to her and talks to her, like in a real conversation. But Alex had figured it out as not just an act of kindness, but because the man seem to have a liking for her. In fact, he had been wooing her without success for the last two years, but she just wasn't interested.
"I'm fine, Tobi, thanks. I got used to it, by now."
"How's your sleep last night?" asked Tobi, who had stood up and popped his head out from the the only thing that separates the two cubicles to look down on the brunette who was still keeping her anger in check.
Alex tucked a few locks of brunette hair behind one ear and exhaled before saying, "'In visions of the dark night, I have dreamed of joy departed;
But a waking dream of life and light, Hath left me broken-hearted.'''
Tobi smiled despite himself.
In the three years he had known Alex, he had grown accustomed to her constant quoting from famous quotations or any such particular poems. Yet still, he had never understood what exactly did she mean by it. Someone would have to venture deeper within those lines when Alex quotes to understand what she was trying to imply.
"You're losing me here, doll," he said to her. "Speak prose."
The brunette only sighed. "I had the same dream again, and I still don't know what it means."
"You mean that dream about suddenly falling into a hole then you find yourself in a room with a glass wall?"
Alex nodded as she crumpled the paper full of doodles and threw it on the nearest garbage basket. "It's like an interrogation room. Only, I can see the people outside the same as the people outside can see me inside."
Tobi stood a while in thought, a hand under his chin.
"Hmm... The same dream for five straight days... You need to talk to a professional about this."
"I know." Alex brought a hand to her forehead, thinking that she may have a headache any minute. "But it's not entirely the dream that bothers me, it's the man in my dream."
"Maybe it was just me?" said Tobi, sounding a little hopeful with a goofy grin on his face. At this, Alex simply scoffed.
"Don't be ridiculous," she had replied. "Why in Gotham would I ever dream about you?" Tobi's grin vanished, as he gave the brunette a half-hearted glare. "Besides, the man in my dream has blond hair, and you're not blond."
"Maybe it's just someone you know a long time ago," replied Tobi flippantly with a dismissive wave of a hand.
"That's the problem, Tobi. I don't know about that because I don't get to see his face," explained Alex, her hand coming to rest on the back of her neck, only slightly feeling a sting of pain there. "In my dream, he always have his back to me."
Again, Tobi stood in thought.
"Well, do you ever hear this man in your dream talk? Maybe his voice at least sounds familiar to you?"
The brunette simply shook her head. "He doesn't speak either. And each time I try to call for his attention, I'd wake up."
Nodding, Tobi really didn't want to press more on the matter, so he changed the subject.
"How's the new story coming?"
He watched as the brunette buried her face on her hands, as he heard a groan from her.
"No luck?" he asked, though it wasn't much of a question.
"I don't know how to begin with it," replied Alex, pulling a few folders from her drawer and shuffling through it as though looking for something, disappointment was heard in her voice. "I think I need to interview someone to get a good plot idea. You know, base my story on real life events. I need a real person."
Tobi just quirked up a brow. "Question is, who?"
With her pen ready in hand just as she was to start with her work, Alex sighed. "That's the very question I want answered."
As though by chance, Mr. Andrews came in with the morning paper in hand.
"Good morning, Miss Erewaker," the man greeted.
"Morning, Roger," greeted back Alex, not taking her eyes on her work, already busy.
"I've been reading the headlines, and look what I found."
Andrews held up the newspaper in his hands and read out loud for the brunette:
"'Mad Hatter Escaped Arkham.' The head doctor of Arkham Asylum has informed the Gotham Police Department about the recent escape of one of its inmates, Jervis Tetch a.k.a. the 'Mad Hatter'. Tetch was said to have successfully implanted one of his mind control chips on one of the guards which then led to his smooth escape. Commissioner Gordon had reassured the citizens that the police will be looking for the escaped inmate, with the additional mention of Batman's assistance, saying, "If we don't get to Tetch first, Batman surely will. Rest assured, this mad man will be brought back to Arkham."
"It goes on with some other stuffs such as this interview with the guard that's been mind-controlled, but the main thing is that Hatter escaped."
Suddenly realizing something, Alex stopped what she was doing and looked up to Andrews.
"Wait, Tetch? What do you remember about how he got to Arkham in the first place?" she asked, unable to stop herself.
Andrews shrugged. "Multiple kidnapping, using mind-control on his victims to have his own Wonderland." Andrews had barked out a short laugh at the latter part. "The poor man's completely nuts. Oh yeah, and they say it was because of a girl he likes who's just not interested in him."
Something in Alex's mind snapped.
Of course! Jervis Tetch! That man who dressed up as a fictional character from a book to impress a girl. The one who used mind-control on innocent people. The man who became mad because of his infatuation for a girl. The perfect subject...
Alex smiled charmingly to Andrews. "Thank you for stopping by and telling me about the news, Roger."
The man only shrugged once more. "Anytime, Miss Erewaker," he said as he excused himself and left.
Tobi, who had been listening, once again popped his head out and looked down on his neighbor whom he saw was smirking to herself.
He frowned.
"I don't like that look on your face, doll. You're thinking of something."
Alex didn't reply, and just gave Tobi a fleeting glance, then went back to work.
She had a very reliable contact whom had been very useful for research in her work and had never failed her before; this contact would be able to help her in finding where Tetch might be hiding for the meantime. If she could be lucky enough, perhaps she'd be able to find the "Hatter" before the police or the Batman does.
A/N: "I know what you're all thinking - it stinks. But I did say this is my first try on a B:TAS fanfic, so pleeeease be kind. R&R either way. I'd like for ya'all to tell me what you think."
Alex quote from a poem by Edgar Allan Poe, entitled A Dream.
