Charlene was unaccustomed to being around so many people.

She was never a social butterfly to begin with, but this was ridiculous to her. Women surrounded her; there was a man-like female inmate straight across from her, always staring at her.

Charlene tried her best to ignore the crude insults and shouting that was always present in this wing of the Asylum. And the screaming, Charlene didn't exactly enjoy screaming unless she was purposefully causing it.

And it was all the time. Especially at night. Charlene didn't even want to imagine what it was like in the maximum security wing.

The good thing about being in the general holding cells was that Charlene finally got to read.

The faculty actually used reading as a therapeutic exercise, and encouraged inmates to read. Charlene asked for anything Jane Austen, and her request was granted. The books' corners were rounded off, as were the page corners, for safety precautions. She was heavily monitored at all times when she was reading, they were making sure she wasn't going to attempt suicide.

Charlene ignored the fast that the hard-cover book was covered in bubble wrap, and continued to read as she attempted to block out the noise around her. She pushed her wet hair behind her shoulder; it had just been laundry and shower time. The women got to shower and do laundry three days a week, which was slightly revolting in Charlene's opinion, only showering three times out of seven days. She was grateful for the cleansing water, and being around naked women didn't actually bother her. She just averted her eyes, kept her head down and eyes closed, and washed as fast as she could.

An alarm buzzed loudly, interrupting Charlene's reading, it signaled lunch time. Charlene stood, her face expressionless, and walked with the other women down a guard-lined hallway to the cafeteria.

She narrowed her eyes in irritation as she was pushed from all sides by lines of burly women racing to the cafeteria. She gritted her teeth as she was knocked to the floor.

"'Ey! Watch what yer doin'!" a voice yelled as a pair of hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her back on her feet. "Ya knocked someone down!"

Charlene looked at the blonde inmate strangely, dusting her uniform off of all the grim that had gotten on it from her fall. She turned to walk away, before the voice stopped her.

"'Ey! Wait up!" the woman said, jogging to catch up. "Ya alright? That bitch really knocked ya down hard."

Charlene nodded once and blinked in confirmation. The blonde seemed to be waiting for a verbal answer, and continued to stare at her. Charlene continued to walk, paying no more attention to the girl.

"So, I don't suppose I'm gonna get a 'thanks' for helpin' ya an' all?" she said after a bit. Charlene inwardly sighed.

"Thank you." She said, her voice had a slight accent that couldn't exactly be placed. Those were the first words she had spoken out loud since she had arrived at Arkham.

The woman nodded in satisfaction. "You're quite welcome." She said, and smiled. "By the way. I'm Harley."

Charlene nodded again in acknowledgement.

Harley realized she wouldn't get an answer without a direct question. "What's you're name, then?" she asked.

"Charlene." She answered, trying to satisfy Harley's curiosity, and, quite frankly, make her leave her alone.

Harley blinked in surprise. "You mean to say you're Charlene Clark? The Mommy Murderer?" she exclaimed. Charlene set her jaw as she continued to walk, she hated that nickname.

"Yes." She answered anyway, trying to be polite.

"Wow! I saw your story on the news!" she said, excited. "My mom was terrified of you!"

Charlene nodded, her facial expression serious, her mouth was in a firm line.

"Harley." A voice said from behind them. Harley twisted her body around to see Poison Ivy walking calmly but quickly, catching up with them. Charlene merely turned her head to the side to see who spoke.

"Where have you been? I lost you back at the cells." Ivy said sourly. She glanced at Charlene. "Who's this?"

"Oh this is Charlene Clark." Harley said excitedly. "Ya know, the Mommy Murderer!"

Ivy's red eyebrows shot up. "Oh really." She drawled. "How interesting."

Harley nodded vigorously. "Oh! By the way, Red, what happened to you? I haven't seen you in two weeks! I asked around, but nobody knew. The guards wouldn't tell me anything."

Ivy's facial expression turned sour. "Yes, well, I was in solitary confinement for two weeks." She sniffed; obviously the memories from that time were not pleasant. "They did numerous tests on me, and demanded I demonstrated a conversation with a plant. The doctors still consider me unstable. I'm banned from outdoor recreational time until the find an 'antidote' for my 'condition'."

Harley barked a laugh.

"And get this, Harls." Ivy started; they were entering the cafeteria now. "Jonathan Crane is in solitary. The Scarecrow."

Charlene's face remained expressionless as she flicked her eyes over to the side to look at Harley and Poison Ivy. She was mildly interested, as she remembered the last name. It was spoken by one of the guards.

"Oh, yeaah! I remember hearing about him on the news." Harley said, her eyes lit up with realization. "He flooded the Narrows with some fear gas, right?"

Ivy nodded. "Yes. Apparently he's been in and out of Arkham periodically over these three years since the incident." She shrugged. "Batman also apparently hurt him pretty badly this time. It's amazing how loudly guards talk, you learn a lot."

Harley giggled. "Well, Red, they were probably trying to impress you with their 'superior knowledge'."

That made Ivy snort in a rather un-ladylike manner. "True, but I'm not impressed in the least." She drawled, shrugging.

Harley grinned. "You never are, Red." She pointed out.

...

The Riddler and Joke raised their heads as the women entered the cafeteria. Most of them had very male-like characteristics, but many were very feminine. The Joker noticed Harley out of all the others. She was walking with the red-head, and a new blonde woman he'd never seen before.

The Riddler poked the Joker in ribs with his elbow with a grin. "Stop checking that girl out." He teased, glancing at her himself. "Just invite her to sit with us today."

The Joker gave Edward a withering look, and then turned his black gaze back on Harley, who was in line for food. His eyes flickered to the new girl once more.

"Maybe I, ah, will." He said, shrugging. "I'm not really a man with a, ah, plan."

Edward smiled, his eyebrows raised.

"Just entertain her friend for me, will you, ah, Eddie?" he sneered. Edward looked up, and scanned the red-headed friend for a moment, before noticing the second fair haired woman. She wasn't speaking, but she seemed to be involved in their conversation.

"Who's the second blondie, Joker?" he asked, curious. The Joker giggled.

"That, my dear Eddie, is our little, ah, psychopathic who was thrown in solitary." he answered, and Edward raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Mm, really, now?" he drawled, surveying her appearance. "That's interesting."

Harley spotted the Joker, and she was waved over as soon as the eye contact was made. Harley looked overjoyed as she basically skipped towards the able, Ivy was pouting as she followed. The last woman, she followed but looked as if she'd rather be back in solitary.

"Sit, sit." The Joker said, motioning to chairs across the table from him. Ivy sat across from the Riddler, and Harley, obviously, sat across from the Joker. The last, sat next to Ivy, diagonal from the Riddler, who looked at her curiously.

"Hello there, beautiful." The Riddler purred. The woman looked up, and blinked in a cold greeting. "What's your name?"

Harley cut in here. "She's Charlene Clark! Can you believe it, that cra- one woman who was on the news a month ago!" she squealed.

Ivy rolled her eyes at her friend's excitement. "Harley, relax." She hissed, elbowing her. Harley glared at her friend.

"Some bitch in the hallway knocked her down, but I helped her back up!" she continued, obviously bragging. "And I'm sure we'll be best friends, right, Charlene?"

Charlene looked at Harley, and blinked again in a form of answer. Nobody knew if it was a negative or positive response, but Harley took it as a positive.

The Riddler turned his gaze on Ivy. "So, what happened to you? You disappeared for two weeks." He observed, cocking his head in question.

Ivy sniffed. "Solitary confinement." She said bluntly. "And they studied me, like a caged animal. It disgusts me how they treat superior beings."

The Joker snorted quietly, and turned his attention on Harley. He didn't say anything, he just let her squirm under his black gaze.

Harley searched for a way to break the silence. "Oh! Uhm, do you guys know a Jonathan Crane?" she asked, and the Joker's eyes lit up.

"Ol' Icabod Crane? Yeah, we, ah, know him." The Joker answered for them both. "What, ah, about him?"

"He's in solitary confinement." Charlene spoke up for the first time, without even realizing it. Harley's high pitched was grinding on her nerves.

Everyone turned to stare at her.

"She speaks!" the Joker chuckled. "What other, ah, tricks, can you do?"

Charlene stared coldly at the Joker, before looked back down at her food in silence. She didn't like him.

The Joker laughed more forcibly. "Well now, aren't you a cold, ah, little thing?" he asked. "Don't be angry, doll. Joker's only, ah, joking."

The Riddler cleared his throat. "Anyway. Is Crane really in solitary confinement? He's been out of the public eye for a few months; I wonder how Batman found him."

Ivy shrugged. "I don't know, but Batman certainly messed him up well." She snorted. "Guards were talking about internal bleeding and such when they brought me from my solitary cell. It sounded quite bad."

The Joker sniggered. "Icabod's a tough, ah, guy, he'll be fine." He drawled. "Wonder when he'll be outta, ah, solitary. I've missed the little bugger."

Harley turned to Ivy. "Red, did they say why he was in solitary?" she asked. "Just curious."

Ivy shrugged again. "Yes, I think they said it was because he was hurt so badly. They didn't want to have him in the general public until he recovered." She answered.

A siren went off, and it was time for recreational hour. The five stood, and exited slowly. Charlene was last in line.

...

Charlene skipped recreational time. She told the guards that she had a headache, which was true, and was allowed to go back to her cell for the duration of recreational time. The headache part was true. Harley's voice pounded in her head like a jackhammer. The worst part, she almost never stopped talking.

She laid on her bed, relaxing in the refreshing silence of her wing of Arkham. Everybody was either at therapy or outside.

She reflected on the people she'd met today. Harley, obviously, got on her nerves quite a bit. So did the Joker, she didn't like him. He made her feel as if her whole life was a joke. A game to be played with. And meaningless, an open book that anyone could skim.

She didn't like feeling like that. Not at all.

The Riddler, she had mixed feelings for. She didn't dislike him, but she didn't exactly like him either.

Poison Ivy was the only one you could say she liked. She was a sensible woman, she knew what she wanted. Charlene liked that.

Now Jonathan Crane, he was a completely different story, though she didn't formally meet the man.

There was just something about him that intrigued her. It wasn't his looks; she hadn't even gotten a good look at him. It wasn't his personality; she hadn't met him. It was just something about his demeanor.

Charlene's mouth curled downward ever so slightly in a frown, she didn't like things that confused her. She was usually able to figure things out extremely easily, but this, her intrigue with the Doctor she had never met, was baffling.

"Upset, Charlie?" a voice laughed to Charlene's right. She didn't even have to turn to know that it was her brother, Gregory. But as she did, she noticed he was accompanied by two burly guards.

"Hello, Gregory." She said quietly, approaching the indestructible glass that separated them. She ignored his comment pointedly.

"How's life as a psychopathic criminal? Met any interesting crazies lately?" he sniggered, leaning on the glass.

Charlene rolled her eyes at her younger brother's joke. "Funny. Very funny, Gregory." She drawled sarcastically. "What are you doing here?"

Greg shrugged. "What? I can't visit my favorite sister once in a while? Sorry I broke the law." He sniggered. "Oh, sorry, I forgot. You did that."

Charlene narrowed her eyes at Greg in irritation. "Have you come here just to nag me? If so, I suggest you leave." She snapped, though her voice was quiet, someone who had known her as long as Gregory knew that she was extremely irritated.

"Or what? You'll kill me, too?" he joked, enjoying the ease at which he took to rile her up. "I thought you only killed women. Women with children."

"Shut up." Charlene snapped, her voice rising above its normal limit of just above a whisper. "You know nothing; you're still a child yourself."

Gregory pursed his lips, his chest puffed out a little. "Excuse me? I'm nineteen!"

"Exactly my point."

"Don't act so 'high and mighty', Charlene." Greg growled, he crossed his arms. "You're only twenty-four yourself."

"At least I can drink legally."

"At least I'm not behind a wall of indestructible glass!" Gregory yelled, his eyes dancing in anger. He slammed his fist on the wall. Drinking had always been a touchy subject in their family. It had killed their father, and it was a known fact to Charlene that Gregory was already on the road to the same fate.

"True." Charlene said, her voice was back in its maddeningly calm tone. "But at least I'm," she paused for dramatic effect. "Not on the other side, yelling at a criminally insane person like a lunatic himself."

Gregory huffed. "You're insane." He accused, glaring.

"Yes." Charlene said, turning her back. "I know."

There was a pause of silence; neither knew what to say next.

"Why did you come here, Gregory?" Charlene asked finally. "Was it really to torment me, or did you actually require something of me?"

Another pause.

"What happened to mom, Charlene?" Greg asked quietly, but his voice was accusing.

Another maddening silence.

"I don't know, Greg."

Charlene heard a bang on her wall of glass. She knew it was Greg's fist hitting the wall in frustration. She didn't even flinch.

"Yes you do!" Greg screamed. "You killed her didn't you?" The guards pulled Gregory away from Charlene's cell.

"Admit it, Charlene! You killed our mother!" he kept yelling as he was dragged down the hall. His voice echoed off the solid walls. "You killed her!"

Charlene looked after him, her eyes were sad. She blinked, and her face became emotionless once more. She turned, and walked back to her bed. Her shoes clicked, and the sound echoed off the walls, like Greg's voice.

...

What'd you think? Greg is honestly one of my favorite OCs I've ever made. I don't know why, but I like him.

Charlene spoke a lot during this chapter, hm? Greg's probably the only one who'll be able to get her to speak, honestly. Let me know what you thought of their brother/sister tension. You'll most likely see him again as the story progresses.

Let me know what you think, via REVIEW. I enjoy reviews. :)

Lots of Love! :)

Jess