Marry woke up to the sounds of voices and beeping.
Annoying beeping.
A pleasantly high voice was speaking agitatedly. "No, Commissioner Gordon, for the third time, we do not know who she is. All we know is that she came in with a knife in her shoulder and collapsed on the floor."
A gruff, equally annoyed voice replied. "Nurse Drew, with all due respect, we got a tip that she was in an altercation with the Joker. We need to ask her some questions."
God, couldn't they argue somewhere else?
They've been at it for over five minutes now.
How could you possibly know that? You're me!
Dunno. Remember to ask the Stepfords that.
You do it.
We're the same person, stupid.
The first voice got louder. "She's been unconscious for three days and she'll probably be in shock when- if she wakes up! Do you really think she'll want to answer your questions?"
Three days?
We lost a lot of blood.
I kept the knife in!
A knife isn't the same thing as a tourniquet, you idiot.
"It isn't a matter of her wanting to, it's a matter of catching the Joker, once and for all."
Oh yeah. Stabby.
I hate that motherfucker.
"Yes, of course; it isn't like he escapes every time your men-"
Mary cleared her throat painfully.
There was a brief silence before feet scurried over to her bedside. "Miss?"
Mary cracked her eyes open and then shut them again. "Bright."
"Yes, dear, but you need to open your eyes."
Ugh.
Mary forced her eyes open again and blinked at the blurry figures in front of her.
No glasses. Right.
The shorter figure, who Mary assumed was the nurse, fiddled around with the various machines Mary just realized she was hooked up to.
She tried to sit up and flinched.
Dumbass.
"Stay still or you'll pull your stitches."
Mary blinked slowly. "Stitches?"
"Yes, twelve for both cuts on your shoulder, three for the cut on your foot. The cut on your face wasn't deep so stitches were unnecessary, but it will scar. Any questions?"
Mary swallowed difficultly. "Water?"
The nurse scurried over to a dispenser and filled up a paper cup before bringing it over and helping Mary drink.
This is embarrassing.
Suck it up. At least you don't have a concussion.
I wonder if one of those would get rid of you.
Rude.
When Mary finished drinking she looked up at the nurse. "The knife went through my arm. Will I be able to use it again?"
The nurse looked at her in what she assumed was sympathy. "Eventually."
Gordon, who had thus far been stood awkwardly to the side, cleared his throat. "Miss, I am Commissioner James Gordon and-"
Nurse Drew gave him a look. "And he was just leaving."
"It's fine."
The two turned toward her.
Mary cleared her throat again and smiled slightly. "I'd like to talk to him, please."
The nurse was still unsure. "You've just woken up."
Mary looked in her direction decisively. "Better sooner than later."
The nurse assented and left the room.
Gordon walked toward her and sat on the chair by her hospital bed. "If it's alright, Miss..."
Mary looked toward him blankly.
Miss what?
He wants your name, stupid.
Oh!
"Mary. My name's Mary."
You sure we don't have a concussion?
I mean, nursey didn't mention one.
The commissioner nodded. "Mary. Can you tell me what exactly happened on the night you were attacked?"
Mary nodded.
What should I tell him?
The truth?
Of course, why didn't I think of that? 'Hey, Commissioner Gordon, I suddenly appeared in an alley in a fictional place and you are also fictional wow isn't this hospital-' wait, who's paying my hospital bill?
We dunno, smartass, we're you!
Ugh.
"Mary?"
Mary started. "Sorry, yeah. I woke up in an alley."
"Why were you in an alley?"
Mary tried to shrug and flinched in pain. "I dunno, Commissioner, but that's not really an important part of this story."
Gordon let it go. "Alright. And then what happened?"
Mary nodded slightly. "Right. So, I called my parents, cause you know, why the fuck am I -sorry- why the heck am I in an alley in the middle of the night on my seventeenth birthday? Speaking of, where's my phone and my hoodie?"
Gordon shifted slightly. "They had to be taken into the police station for investigation with the knife."
Are you fucking with me?
Ew.
Goddamnit, Voice Number Three, I do not need that right now.
Sorry.
Mary sighed and looked toward the blurry ceiling. "Oh."
Gordon coughed. "Happy birthday, anyway."
Mary snorted. "Yeah. Thanks. Whatever."
There was a silence.
Mary continued. "So I'm talking to my parents, and I hear a voice that isn't theirs. So I turn around and lo and behold, the Joker was behind me. Can I have some more water?"
The commissioner stood up and got her another cup, waiting impatiently while she drank it.
She nodded at him in thanks once she finished and continued. "So, yeah, there's the Joker, right in front of me, being creepy, and who I will from now on only refer to as Stabby the Clown. Any objections before I continue?"
Gordon made a noise in his throat but didn't otherwise protest.
Therefore, Mary ignored it. "Good. So, there's Stabby, and he commented something like 'Uh, isn't that a shame, toots?' Because I was telling my parents that I can't see for shit- sorry- for poop. So I do what any normal person would do and hold up my finger for him to wait. He does, surprisingly. So I tell my parents I love them and hang up the phone-"
"You hung up the phone?"
"Yes, I just said that."
"Why didn't you call the police?"
Is he for real?
Mary, no.
Mary looked in his direction sardonically. "No offense, Commissioner, cause you seem decent enough, but the cops in this city wouldn't go near crime alley unless they were going to commit a crime themselves. They come in to stop something, they get shot."
Plus, we would've had to hang up anyway to call the police.
Let's be as little of a smartass as we can right now.
Fine.
The commissioner was silent for a moment. "Why did he allow you to do that?"
Mary stared. "Do what?"
"Continue to talk to your parents."
Mary made a face. "Dunno. Probably cause he's a giant di- penis and he wanted to make us all emotionally harrowed. Either way, he was real courteous about it. Turned around and everything."
You know, in hindsight, that whole encounter was actually pretty funny.
Tell that to my dead arm.
Your own fault.
Fuck off.
Gordon nodded for her to continue.
Mary nodded back. "Where was I? Right. I hung up, and then I sat on the ground."
Gordon made another noise in his throat but didn't comment.
Mary continued. "So Stabby just talks."
"What did he say?"
Mary tilted her head in place of a shrug. "Nothing important, just said he thought I would be interesting and that he's disappointed that I'm not. And then I got annoyed, so I asked him if it was because I wasn't wearing pants."
He choked.
Mary looked toward him in confusion. "Should I call the nursey?"
He sat up straight in his chair and looked at her in what she assumed was disapproval. "Mary, this is a very serious situation. I would appreciate it if you treated it as such."
Mary looked at him indifferently. "I'm not joking."
His face was still very blurry to her, but that didn't disguise the fact that it was progressively becoming a frankly alarming shade of red. "You, a teenaged girl, asked one of the most feared criminals in Gotham if the reason he found you interesting was because you weren't wearing any pants?"
Her face didn't change. "Yes."
He seemed to be clenching his fists. "Are you out of your mind?"
Yep.
Definitely.
Fuck off.
"Probably. May i continue?"
He sighed and slumped back down into his chair. "Yes, go ahead."
She raised her eyebrows. "Thank you. As I was saying, I asked him if he found me interesting because I wasn't wearing pants. He giggled like a school child on meth, which only served to alarm and annoy me more. So I yelled at him a little."
He gave her a look.
She sighed. "Okay, I yelled at him a lot. He seemed to be enjoying himself up until I pushed my luck a little too far and pushed him against the alley wall."
Mary couldn't see Commissioner Gordon's face, but she was fairly certain he was beginning to think she was a little bit not right in the brain box.
Beginning to?
Yes. Why?
I mean, you do hear voices in your head.
Oh, you're still here. I was wondering where you'd gone.
Missed me?
No.
"So yeah, he didn't like that. I laughed to keep from screaming and crying in terror, he pushed me against the other wall. I called him Bozo, he called me Lovegood and cut open my arm."
It's because I'm fat, isn't it?
What?
You don't like me because I'm fat!
No, I don't like you because you're an annoying voice in my head that offers nothing important to my narrative and is good for comic relief!
"Lovegood?"
Mary blinked again and focused back on the conversation. "I made an agitated Harry Potter joke and he took it literally."
He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "of course you did."
You take that back!
No!
Guys...
She continued. "So he cut a line in my arm and in my favorite sweatshirt, at which point I was so annoyed at that I stupidly tried to tackle him and ended up with a knife through my arm."
The commissioner stood up and something clattered to the floor. "You tackled the Joker?!"
The fuck was that?
Who cares? Answer the question before he has an aneurism!
And apologize to me while you're at it!
Mary squinted. "No. I tried to tackle the Joker. Pay attention. If you keep interrupting me, we'll never get through this."
Gordon sat back down stiffly and Mary thought he nodded again, so she continued. "Right. Thank you. So there I am, with a knife in my shoulder and Stabby the psychopathic clown just cackling away in front of me, when none other than Batsy swoops down from the sky and scares the shi-crap outta me, and I assume beat the crap outta Stabby."
"You assume?"
"Well, I stopped paying attention during that part. He obviously didn't beat him hard enough, because the clown escaped, but whatever. I'm assuming Batsy told you the rest?"
Gordon nodded a bit too eagerly. "Yes, he did."
No he didn't.
Mary rolled her eyes. "No he didn't."
Gordon stood up and straightened his jacket. "No, he didn't. But I think I have all the information I need. Thank you for your cooperation."
Cooperation? Who, me?
...Hello?
We're not talking to you until you apologize.
Well okay.
"You're welcome."
Wait, ask him who's paying for us to be here!
I thought you weren't talking to me.
Oh shit.
Mary rolled her eyes at her inner imaginary friends, but she still called after him when he was halfway toward the door. "Commissioner Gordon?"
He paused and turned toward her. "Yes, Mary?"
"Who's paying for my hospital bills?"
He relaxed. "The Thomas and Martha Wayne foundation picked up the tab, actually. Very generous of them, don't you think?"
Mary bit the inside of her cheek. "Yes. Thank you."
Gordon tipped his head toward her and then left.
As soon as he was gone, Nurse Drew was back and fussing. "I thought that man would never leave. Hardly a good cop in this city, but I suppose we should be grateful that he was one of the better ones. Are you tired? You should rest."
Mary nodded, drank the water the nurse gave her, and settled deeper into her pillows.
After a moment, the nurse left to check on another patient.
Mary bit her cheek and waited.
Nothing.
She shifted slightly to get more comfortable in her hospital bed.
Her head felt unnervingly empty.
She tried not to think and closed her eyes.
A moment passed.
She cracked. Guys?
No answer.
She tried again. Voice Number Three?
Nothing.
She sighed and pouted at the ceiling. ...I'm sorry.
Well, finally! Do you know how boring the rest of your head is?
Hey!
Don't even deny it! There's literally an entire section in here dedicated to whether Bounty really is a quicker picker upper than the current leading bargain brand.
I told you you should've gone to the left. There's this really weird dungeon thing-
So you forgive me?
I live in your head, I kinda have to. But more about this dun-
Kay great.
Oh my god, is that Han Solo? In a chain mail bikini?
MOVING ON!
HOLY SHIT, FOR REAL? I WANNA SEE!
NO YOU DON'T!
Aww man.
Relax, Voice Number Three.
But-
I'll show you once she goes back to sleep.
YAY!
Why did I want you guys back again?
I knew you missed us!
Ugh.
Mary sunk deeper into her pillows in annoyance and pouted.
A moment passed.
So. Wayne.
Yep.
You know you owe him doubly now.
Mary closed her eyes. Yep.
Stabby's still on the loose.
Yes.
We don't have the phone anymore.
Nope.
And we still don't have pants on.
...Goddamnit.
