Chapter Two:
The month of probation had finally passed, and Harleen became quite accustom to her new career at Arkham Asylum. She was now fully entrusted by Dr. Crane with over twenty patients, and had memorized everything there was to know about them. They're names, families, medical histories, all the way down to their tiniest un-comforts.
In her apartment, Harleen sat with her legs kriss crossed on an overstuffed armchair, picking at her Chinese takeout. Suddenly as she picked up her chopsticks for another bite, a loud roar screamed through her windows and sent vibrations that shook her whole apartment. Practically throwing her food to the ground, Harleen grabbed the remote and turned on the television.
"What we are now seeing are reports of a rouge vigilante sweeping across Gotham City, in what appears to be a large, black, tank like vehicle. No one has come forward with the identity, but as the rumors keep spreading they keep getting stranger, and stranger. We now go to our very own Lucia Davis for details."
"Thank you John, from what we've heard down here this vigilante has taken the guise of a bat and has begun fighting crime here in our very own Gotham city. Rumors started about a week ago when who we're now referring to as The Batman started his fight against crime. All I can say is he gets results, and slowly but surely our crime rates are going down. Back to you John."
As the phone began to ring, Harleen gave a muffled yelp and turned the television on mute. Watching as a silhouette of The Batman flew across her television screen; she picked it up and slowly put it to her ear.
"Harleen Quinzel." She answered softly, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.
"Harleen, it's Holly, we have a rather nasty situation down here. Dr. Crane has requested you get ready to come to Arkham ASAP!"
"What's going on Holly?" Harleen held the cord in her hand, and pulled it nervously.
"A patient just went ballistic, Rune Davis. He suffers from severe Schizophrenia, but now seems to have an extreme case of Mania. Possibly brought on from medication, we're not sure. No one seems to be able to sedate him or find him for that matter! It's mass hysteria! All of the doors are sealed, thank god, but no one has been able to secure him."
"I'll be right there; I just need to call a cab."
"Won't be necessary, Dr. Crane is already on his way."
"But…doesn't he need to be there?"
"He insisted."
"Alright, well I'll be there in a second."
As Harleen hung up the phone she gave a loud curse and pulled herself back into her work clothes. Looking out the window, she thought she could almost hear the Arkham Alarm system screaming in the night. Pulling on her coat, and pinning up her hair quickly she pulled open the door and was met face to face with Dr. Jonathan Crane. Harleen felt as if her heart had leaped out of her mouth, she had never been startled so many times in one night. He opened his mouth as if to speak while she finished locking the door.
"No time we have to go." Pulling his sleeve, she led the way down the stairways and into his car.
***
While they were speeding down the streets, she leaned over suddenly, a question burning in her mind.
"They needed you there, why did you come for me?"
"I have to bring you round the back of Arkham, the front is on lockdown and only I have the keys to the back. It's the most secure and isolated way in, and it's the closest location to where we believe the patient is." Harleen nodded, it made perfect sense...of course. He always had to be so damn direct, logical, and downright confident. She couldn't believe that she had almost wanted him to come get her for the sheer fact that he had wanted to. Like some childish Prince Charming, pulling up in a black BMW. Slapping herself for a thought like that, Harleen brought herself back to the reality. Yes, Dr. Crane was physically attractive. But he was also a narcissistic sociopath, and quite frankly a jerk. Who treated his patients like statistics and co-workers like feebleminded dolts.
Cruising at over eighty miles per hour, Dr. Crane flinched as his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.
"Can you get that, I ordered Holly to give me constant updates."
"Sure." Reaching into his pant's pocket, Harleen took out the phone and flipped it open, bracing herself at the same time as he took a rather sharp corner.
"Code 484 into effect. All patient paddocks in code orange. Front lobby systems control is maintained." Harleen read the text aloud to her boss, her brows creasing at the jargon.
He gave no comment as he spun the car into a parked position in front of the back entrance of Arkham. Pulling out the keys he exited the car. Harleen followed closely as he punched in a key pad by the door and revealed a new set of keys. The door opened slowly, exposing only pitch dark. Harleen's stomach dropped to the floor and her throat closed up tight. She had always been afraid of the dark, even now in her mid twenties. Looking around she grasped tightly onto Dr. Crane's sleeve. Not out of any romantic ideals, but out of sheer terror. Sweat beaded her forehead, as she kept her eyes trapped on the only source of light. An opened doorway that illuminated nothing but the stairs that led up to it. It was a miracle in its self that Dr. Crane knew where he was going in this dark.
"What is this place?" she asked, her voice actually trembling from the rush of adrenaline caught in her throat.
"Just an empty garage." He answered quickly as he took her hand. It clenched his in a sweaty mess, but she never noticed her eyes were still locked on the door.
After carefully, but quickly, climbing the stairs Harleen rejoiced silently in the light then immediately let go of his hand. Embarrassed that she had let herself become that petrified.
"Scotophobia is very common," Dr. Crane told her as they marched quickly down the hallways of the Asylum.
"For five year olds." He added with a dry smile.
Gritting her teeth, Harleen followed him into a supply office. It was small, with cupboards full with syringes and medicines over a sink and counterpace. Next to that were shelves filled with strait jackets and first aid kits.
"Take a syringe and fill it with 4 cc's of sedative, I've instructed the other attendants to do the same. You take the east side of the Asylum, if you see him contact one of us immediately we will be right there. We're each a hallway away from each other on each perimeter." Capping his syringe, Dr. Crane looked over at Harleen and paused.
"Can you handle this by yourself? I can come with you. " This time his voice wasn't filled to the brim with presumption. He seemed almost genuinely concerned.
"I can handle myself, Dr. Crane, if I need you I'll call." With a subtle nod Dr. Crane hesitated for a moment then slowly walked out of the room and disappeared down the hall. Leaving Harleen with the notorious East Ward.