Chapter Four: What You Are

"The basement is for the special cases," Alexis explained as she led Maria into one of the screeching metal death traps they called elevators. Maria wanted to take the stairs, but she was pulling a tray of supplies alongside her, therefore the elevator was the necessary vehicle of transportation.

"What sort of special cases?" asked Maria softly.

"The worst of the criminally insane," she responded. "They are the ones who relish in their horrible crimes and the destruction they've caused. It's disgusting."

"I see," Maria mumbled.

The two women entered the holding chamber, a large shadowy room with two rows of cells parallel to each other. Each room was sealed by a heavy iron door. A thick window of glass, nearly the size of an entire wall, allowed the psychiatrists to see into the cells easily. Pods of white-coated doctors stood scattered at the different cells with clipboards in hand as they jotted down notes. Maria barely had time to take in her surroundings, for Alexis was leading her quickly to one of the cells. A small group of fellow medical specialists awaited them.

"Good morning, Dr. DuPont," they all greeted Alexis with bows of the head and small voices.

"Anything new to report about Mr. Chapman?" Alexis asked. Maria glanced into the cell, wanting to get a good look at the patient. He looked small and gray in that little cell of his. Dark bags hung under otherwise young eyes. The chart said he was in his early thirties. What a terrible waste of his time! He could have been using his youthful energy to make Gotham a better place. Yet there he was, curled up alone and cold in a cell in the basement of a mental hospital. She couldn't help but pity this poor man.

"Nothing, doctor. We just need your approval to release him," one of the doctors said.

"Perfect," Alexis replied as she stepped towards the door to the cell. She opened up the keypad, punched in a code, and the door clicked.

"Why are you releasing him, Alexis? Isn't he…"

"That's what we're trying to prove…or disprove is probably the proper term," Alexis responded. She, along with Maria and a few other doctors, entered a thin antechamber, which was the space between the two cells. Alexis then slipped a key out of her pocket and stuck it into the keyhole. "Mr. Chapman has been here for about two years," Alexis explained. "He was tried for murdering his landlady and his defense pleaded insanity. He was able to convince the court that he's insane and was sent here. However, my team and I have been observing him and we don't believe he is quite damaged enough to be considered crazy."

"Oh…what will happen if he passes the mental aptitude test?" Maria pressed. Alexis let out a small sigh.

"We'll have no choice but to let him go. We can't even send him to prison on those charges because they've already been cleared. These little details are bothersome, aren't they?"

"Then why don't we just keep him here? Isn't it safer that way?"

"Maria, he's taking up our resources. It's a waste of time to be treating someone with mental insanity regiments if he actually isn't insane. It's like taking cold medicine when you don't have a cold," Alexis pushed out, beginning to grow a little annoyed. Maria, sensing the tightness in her sister's tone, didn't press any further. Alexis opened the door into the main chamber and Maria quickly scurried in, followed by a few other doctors.

Mr. Chapman was sitting on his bed. He looked up, quivering. His eyes were glued to Maria.

"New…new face," he mumbled. Maria tried smiling. That always seemed to help warm things up a little.

"Hello," she said gently to the patient. "My name is Maria DuPont. I'll be checking you before you proceed with the examination." Before the examination could begin, Maria had to test his vitals, as was protocol before all medical examinations, even the psychiatric ones. She started by pulling out a thermometer and taking his temperature. She followed that up with a blood pressure test and a pulse evaluation. He was quite skittish and twitched every time she touched him. His pulse was racing. The bewildered look on his face told her that he was anxious about something. After writing down her reports, she turned the floor over to her sister and her team.

A new pod of voices entered the corridor. Maria found it hard to tell how many people there were, considering that there were layers of glass between her and the group. Her eyes trailed towards the outside hall and laid themselves on Dr. Crane, who was leading the group down the hallway and towards the cell. He instructed the group to wait there for a moment while he entered the door to the antechamber.

"Ah, excuse me, Dr. DuPont, would you mind if my students observed this examination?" he asked rather quickly.

"By all means, Dr. Crane," Alexis responded with a smile. "You're welcome to turn on the intercom so your students can hear us better." Dr. Crane nodded and slipped out of the room.

"Now that that's all settled," Maria heard him say, "can anyone explain what the AAMAT is?" A girl with blonde hair raised her hand.

"The Arkham Asylum Mental Aptitude Test, commonly known as simply the AAMAT or the MAT is a test given to all patients at Arkham Asylum periodically to test their mental capacities. Those who pass the test are eligible for release, but they must pass an additional part in order to actually be released," the girl said, as if reciting from memory. Dr. Crane nodded.

"Yes, Miss Quinzelle, very good," he said. "Today we will observe one of my colleagues, Dr. DuPont, as she administers the second portion of the test." Maria's gaze was glued briefly to the blonde girl. Anger boiled up inside of her, bubbling more with each passing second. The movements of the doctors in the corner of her eye drew Maria's attention away from the egg-headed student.

The test itself was a seemingly simple procedure, but much reflection and evaluation went into determining if one passed or failed it. The first portion was an evaluation sheet that was completed solely by a doctor. During the second portion, the patient was an active participant. Alexis, as well as some of the other doctors, had Mr. Chapman answer some questions or complete a task. Maria glanced around, seeing that nearly every person witnessing the event was jotting down notes. The blonde student excitedly scribbled something onto her notepad.

Maria looked down at Mr. Chapman. He kept his distance from Alexis, curling his body inward, like he was trying to protect himself. He never made eye contact; his gaze was always on the floor. How could a man so pale and fragile commit such a terrible act as murder? How could hands so afraid of feeling objects and people know the warmth of blood? How could eyes so terrified of light have witnessed life draining out of another human's body?

"He'll never survive," Maria's inner voice lamented. "If he's released, he will plunge into darkness, and he probably will have no hope of returning."

The test was completed. Alexis said a word of thanks to Mr. Chapman and led the group out of his cell. Maria was the last one out. She glanced over her shoulder before closing the door, hoping to grab one last look at the pathetic soul, wishing that there was something she could do to help him, knowing that she couldn't. She couldn't help but wonder why this person attracted her so. She wanted to run to him and embrace him tightly and tell him that everything was going to be okay. She would be there to care for him. It was the same instinct that took her over when she saw Clarice for the first time. Weak, defenseless, low, foul creatures those people were. Anyone from the outside was an angel to them.

Maria stopped near Dr. Crane and his group. Their eyes met briefly, and shortly after that he instructed his students to observe on their own for a little while. He looked over his shoulder, spotting Alexis and her team leaving the area. No doubt they were going to a conference room to discuss Mr. Chapman's fate.

"What do you think?" he asked her, his voice subdued. Maria crossed her arms over her stomach, her gaze glued to Mr. Chapman, who was starting to move again. He pulled at his gray prison outfit as if he was trying to straighten out the folds and crinkles in the fabric. He took a sip from the cup of water that was sitting on his nightstand, and then he proceeded to straighten the bedding on his cot. Once all that was straightened out, he let himself fall back onto the cot.

"He's not insane," Maria replied, "but there's definitely something wrong with him. If we release him, he won't survive in Gotham."

"What makes you say that?" he pressed. Her gaze trailed to him momentarily.

"Why does he interrogate me every time I see him? It's like he's testing me or something," her inner voice questioned, annoyed.

"It was his pulse. It was racing. Even when I wasn't touching him I could sense his anxiety welling up. I think that it was caused by being around unfamiliar people," she explained.

"So you're saying that he will suffer from a mental breakdown shortly after being released?"

"It's possible," she replied quietly. "I mean…if he truly has a fear of people, and he is exposed to them in high concentrations, his anxiety could drive him to depression…or even madness."

"That's quite the hypothesis you are making, Miss DuPont," Dr. Crane remarked. Maria looked away from him. "Why don't you try to plead your case to the council? I'm sure they would love to hear it."

"My sister would be furious. She's been trying to discharge Mr. Chapman for a while now. She says he's a waste of space," she explained softly.

"Aren't we all?" Dr. Crane pointed out, humor riding on his tone.

"I really shouldn't go against her judgment. She's the older and more experienced one, after all. Her opinions have much more value than mine do."

"Never underestimate the power of a single mind," he said, almost like he was lightly reprimanding her for having such pessimistic thoughts. Maria faced him again, the momentum allowing her to make eye contact for more than a few seconds. Once those few seconds passed, she broke the connection. It actually made her eyes tear to look into his icy gaze for more than a moment or so. There was something cold and uninviting in his stare: he intrigued those around him to take a peek, and then pushed them away once they got interested.

"Maybe you should say something to her, Dr. Crane," Maria suggested. "I have a feeling she would be more open to listening to you. At least you're on her level." Dr. Crane shook his head.

"That isn't the case. I only work here part time for my research. Dr. DuPont has much more power than I do," he corrected her. Maria frowned slightly.

"I don't like this," she said. "We're talking about my sister like she's a tyrant. Maybe I should just go." The hard look on Dr. Crane's face softened a little. He became utterly speechless.

"W-wait…Miss DuPont," he stuttered. Maria continued like she didn't hear him.