Life 26: Smile for a While
"Breakfast! Up and at them!" A droning voice bellowed out from the Asylum's intercom system, awakening it's mad patients, and signalling in another day in this hellhole.
I shook myself awake as I leaned up on my cell's cot, my eyes adjusting to the bleak lighting that filled this damned place… only to be shocked beyond reason.
I had been in this life for over a month, and for the first time, my mind was silent.
No maniacal laughter, no calls for blood and mayhem.
Just silence.
I was alone in here, and wasn't that a relief?
Jack was gone, silent and transparent, and all that remained was me, in full control.
With nothing holding me back, I stretched as I left my cell, heading off to the Asylum's cafeteria, already seeing that the day was going to get more interesting.
Garfield Lynns, the newest freak to join the Arkham circus of insanity, was already trying to bribe the guards for matches. Walter Jones, a patient that admired and deified authority, was already at odds with him, spouting about how it was illegal for 'Officers' to take bribes.
I just watched the two get into their daily brawl, as unlike Jack, I wasn't really interested in anything in this place. I was actually focused on something entirely different, a salvation of sorts.
Jack was perfectly content to stay in this hellhole forever, but me? I wasn't staying here, and Jack will either have to grin and bare leaving, or get out of my head.
And I had the perfect idea.
"Doctor Quinzel, how are you today?" I asked the straight laced blonde as we relaxed in her office for my daily psych evaluation. I knew that I wasn't anything like Jack, so I figured why try to act like him?
The doctor almost froze then, as she looked intently at me, almost as if in shock.
"You've never called me Doctor before Jack, why the sudden change?" She asked, her pen twirling between her fingers in surprise. That was a really cool trick.
I knew I wasn't going to be able to keep up the act all day, so I figured, why not embrace the insanity that everyone saw in Jack Napier?
A little more madness would work swimmingly here.
"Please Doctor, call me Harry."
(From the desk of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, documented 1997)
Patient Name: Joseph Napier
Evaluating Provider: Dr. Harleen Quinzel
Arkham Registry History: Mr. Napier has no documented registry date in Arkham's archives. It is unknown when he was admitted, or for what reason.
Prior Assessment: Previously, it appeared that Mr. Napier was an unredeemable psychopath with moments of clarity, only cooperating with Asylum staff for his own amusement. His documented behavior parallels that of a cat playing with mice, leading to his previous provider declaring him a lost cause. I see differently.
Recent Assessment: Incredibly enough, Mr. Napier has seemed to develop a new personality, a humble man named Harry. While disbelieving at first, after talking for several hours with him, I believe that Mr. Napier has truly developed a new persona, yet… I do not believe this is a bad thing. Whereas our jobs are typically to restore our patients' sanities and return them to society, I believe Mr. Napier would actually prosper if 'Harry' were to be the dominant personality, rather than Jack.
Psychiatric Diagnosis: Insanity, Slight Psychosis, Malicious Tendencies, and apparently, Dissociative Identity Disorder.
Course of Treatment: Mr. Napier has been treated with various different medical trials, all seemingly to no use. However, Mr. Napier's recent accounts draw that into question, as he claims that Jack, who he regards as a separate entity, has been secretly disposing of his medication. Perhaps with this new personality in control, Mr. Napier will actually consent with his treatment.
Notes and Concerns: I believe that if the personality of Harry is able to become Mr. Napier's primary personality, that he may well be on the way to recovery. No further concerns.
(31st, October, 1997)
"Harry, is something bothering you?" Harleen asked her patient, who seemed more morose than he usually was. Ever since her prescribed medical plan had been enacted, the entire staff had seen vast improvement in Napier's behavior, which was an accomplishment in itself. There was even rumors that she was being considered for the position of Head Physician.
For once in her life, things were going wonderfully, yet her favorite patient, seemed so sad.
"Sorry Doctor, I've never really enjoyed this time of year… Too many bad memories, you understand?" Harry said to her, his eyes briefly meeting hers, his emerald hair swishing as he moved. His hair had once been prim and short, yet he had asked for permission to grow it out. Now, he had a head of rich green locks, the strands standing on edge.
Harleen just nodded and began to take notes once more, or at least pretended to.
She'd actually resumed her college hobby of drawing, and she had created sketch after sketch of a certain wild haired man, though she would never admit as much of course.
She had actually found the young man on her mind more and more as the months passed, and found herself almost excited each morning as she came into work, but she knew she couldn't let him get to her.
She was a professional after all.
"Would you like to discuss it Harry? It usually helps to get things like this off your chest." Harleen suggested, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder, his body tensing at the touch.
She figured it was a painful memory of his.
Harry took a breath then, then met eyes with her once again, his form steadying as he began to tell what was likely a long story.
"Well, it all started with my parents being murdered on Halloween Night…"
"Uncle Jack, I can't believe you're leaving!" Frank Russell, my insane wannabe nephew of sorts, whined as I stood in the foyer of the Asylum, a grey suit sitting on my frame, my hair slicked back in a lazy pompadour.
I admit, Frank was annoying when I first met him, but the man was basically a child, and I had plenty of experience with them. After a few months however, I even started caring for the man, almost like an actual nephew.
However, Frank wasn't the reason I was here, standing as a free man.
I was being discharged, freed from this hell hole.
Things were actually working out pretty well for me, as the medication they had me on held back most of Jack's influence, and I was left in control of our shared body.
With my mind cool and collected, it was a simple matter of getting myself discharged and declared officially reformed, as without Jack fucking with me, I was.
However, as usual when I make a plan, things went off course, but I should have been used to it by now.
The Doctor they assigned to me, Harleen Quinzel, she was something else. Kind and caring, yet firm and funny. Honestly, I felt a pull to her, almost as if my entire mind was pushing me towards her.
I hadn't felt like this in way too long, and yet… It felt good, like… way too good.
Regardless, in an hour's time, I was a free man once more.
For my astounding recovery and behavior, I was approved for discharge within a year, and was given a release agreement.
I was signed up for outpatient care, meaning I could explore and enjoy Gotham all that I liked, as long as I met with Dr. Quinzel once a week and found myself a place to live.
Even better, with a bit of convincing, I was being paid a stipend until I could find work, and was even given a list of contacts I could consult in order to find a job.
"God, these people are so simple…"
Filing that all away for later, I finished signing the last of my release forms, and looked to the person standing closest to me, a touch of sadness on her.
Harleen Quinzel was a special one, that was to be sure, and I swear she was almost sad to see me go.
Placing aside the forms, Harleen held her hand out to me, and I shook it gratefully.
"Good luck Harry, it's been wonderful." She said to me, a warm smile actually gracing her face for one of the few times I had known her, and it was truly a sight for sane eyes.
"I'll see you next week Harley." I said with a smile, hauling the Arkham dufflebag they'd given me over my shoulder, making my way to the shuttle bus to Gotham Central.
The Asylum wasn't as bad as many made it out to be, even myself, but it was a bit boring.
Gotham City however, now that was a show I didn't want to miss.
Better yet, I had front row seats.
Let the show begin.
I looked over the notepad Harleen has given me once more. It was a list of business and contacts that she said would give me a chance if I tried hard enough, and I had arrived at the fourth place on the list.
Apparently most of the businesses didn't approve of bright green hair in their employees, but whatever, their loss.
This place though, this place had promise.
Hell, I walked in off the street and after an hour of talking, I had an appointment with the Business Manager of the company, however impossible it should have been.
"Perhaps it's the suit?" I wondered to myself, as I looked down at my grey suit. I'd put on the purple waistcoat Harleen had bought for me, and apparently it worked well to boost my image.
For whatever reason, I now was sat inside the Manager's luxurious office, snacking on hand sandwiches with a side of orange juice, waiting for my meeting.
Honestly, I think this life has a lot more luck in it than my others.
Finally after near an hour (At least according to the Mickey Mouse watch I found) I finally heard the office door gently open and strong footsteps sounded around me.
I stood as a wise looking man with dark skin walked into the room, his face framed with laugh lines and a soft smile as he gestured me to sit as he joined me.
I took a seat once again, and he picked up the file of all that I was, and began to browse through the papers that listed all there was to know about Jack Napier.
Finally when he appeared to be satisfied, he turned to me with another smile and crinkling eyes.
"Well, I think we may have a position for you Mr. Napier," He said to me with a smile, holding out his hand to me, a light in his eyes that spoke of potential and perhaps salvation.
"My name is Lucius Fox, welcome to Wayne Enterprises."
While Harry Napier was getting his affairs in order, another man was sitting in the shadows of an aged room, staring up at a portrait of a lovely looking couple, their smiles trying their hardest to warm his heart, such was their happiness.
He could only frown, as even years later he couldn't seem to let go, despite all he'd been through.
So much blood and sweat, yet he broke just when seeing their faces.
He almost felt ashamed of himself, as he lowered his gaze from meeting theirs.
Yes, shame, that was what drove him now.
That shame had been why he left Gotham, put himself as far away from their legacy as possible, blotted them out of his mind and memory.
Yet now, he was back… and he felt that same urge once more, the urge that had driven him to travel the world… to train under the League… To do all that he was asked…
He had to do something… Anything, to mean something.
After all they had given for him, for him to sit at home and simply follow in his father's footsteps, while more criminals followed in that cold bastard's footsteps… While more and more innocents died to the cruel touch of crime and hatred.
He had to do something… be something…
He needed to be more than a man, as he alone wouldn't be enough to change Gotham.
As he thought over that, he was almost struck back in shock, as the wide window beside him, the one that framed the entire room with a silver shine, burst inward with a mighty wind, moonlight blasting into the dark room.
Riding with it, was a screeching creature of the night, it's eyes glowing a blinding white in the embrace of night, it's wings spread wide in aggression and rage as it's cries pierced his ears and his very soul.
A devilish bat had ruthlessly invaded a place he had known to be so safe since childhood, the place his mother and father would speak to him, share wisdom and comfort in the dark nights of his youth.
It brought fear into him, a man that had worked for so long to eliminate fear within himself, to be a warrior unlike any other. It might have been fear for only a second, but nonetheless, it was managed.
Looking up at the black bat nestled up on the outer door frame, it's little eyes angry and dreadful in the shadows, he could only think of it as one thing.
It was perfect.
That, brought a rare smile to Bruce Wayne's face.