Ron fidgeted in his guard's uniform before checking the map on the wall. Alright, he just needed to take a left down this hallway, take a right when he came to the intersection, and he'd be at Dormouse's cell block. Fuck. Why'd he have to do this alone? Couldn't Cobblepot spare some of his men to bust his own woman out of the nuthouse?

Of course, the Boss had said something about needing them to guard the Mad Hatter while he spoke with someone about something or other. Honestly, Ron couldn't remember. He just knew he had to get the fucking loony woman out of the madhouse in one piece or Cobblepot would have his kneecaps up on a shiny plaque above his desk.

Molly stared at her walls and counted, yet again, how many bricks were on the wall opposite her bed. She lost count every fifty or so bricks and had to restart again and again, but honestly there was no other way to lull yourself to sleep in a place like Arkham. Eventually she gave up on the bricks and rolled over. She missed being free of this place. She missed her Emperor Penguin and his peasants and guards, and his cold little Iceberg, and how he was nice to her.

Unlike him. Hatter.

She was cross with him, you know. Mad. Madder than she can ever remember being with him. Ever since before, when she didn't know he was her friend. Before she knew she truly was in Wonderland.

"This is quite unusual, Dr. Elliot," Fox said, looking over the X-Rays. "It looks like it could be some sort of electronic chip."

Thomas Elliot closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking back at the man. "Could it be...some sort of behavioral control chip?" He asked.

Lucius shrugged. "Well, it's certainly possible, though depending on the situation, highly improbable. Who did you say you found this in?"

"A patient. Molly McKean. Goes by the name of Dormouse," he said. "I don't understand how it wasn't found until now."

"Well, seeing as her associate, Mr. Tetch has chips like these implanted on every mask his gang uses or in every gang member, I'd say it's more than possible that it's a behavioral control chip," Fox said. Thomas Elliot nodded before smiling at the man.

"Perhaps removal of the chip could constitute 'curing' Ms. McKean from her delusions," he proposed. Fox shrugged.

"Perhaps."

Cobblepot looked down at the tiny box and felt a twinge in his gut. He couldn't identify the feeling. Was it guilt, that he wasn't able to protect her? Was it anxiety over the bold move he was about to make? Was it his still-present anger aimed at the Mad Hatter for hurting his Molly?

He pushed the box away and glared at the door to his office.

He couldn't wait until his woman was safe and sound in front of him, out of that damned asylum and in his arms.

Most importantly, he couldn't wait to exact his revenge on the Hatter.

No, the beating had just been a warm up.

Revenge was best served cold, as the saying went, and it was going to be served with a sadistic amount of pleasure.

The public had eaten it right out of the palm of his hand. Flash a few smiles, the potential for the cure of a patient, and hell, Gothamites would give you anything. To him, it didn't matter if it wouldn't actually cure the girl. If she wasn't cured, he could always fix this chip and reprogram it to make her act like she had before the surgery.

No, Thomas Elliot didn't truly care for the well-being of his patients.

He just wanted the notoriety of being the person to conduct the surgeries. After all, how could people confuse Bruce Wayne with Thomas Elliot, when Tommy was the one saving lives?

"Sir, do you think Tommy will be able to cure Ms. McKean of her condition?" Alfred asked.

"No. That chip hasn't fully worked since the first night I fought with her. It was damaged. Tetch wasn't transmitting any orders to the trip," Bruce said.

"But, sir, if the chip was merely to modify her behavior to mirror that of the Dormouse in the books-"

"You think the damage to the chip could've stopped Tetch from being able to transmit orders, giving her free will as the Dormouse. It could still be controlling her personality and her memories."

"It sounds possible, Master Wayne."

"If it is, she'll be cured soon enough."

"And if not?"

Rob stared into an empty cell and groaned. Where the fuck could they have taken the crazy woman? He grabbed his cell phone and typed in the all-too-familiar numbers.

"Iceberg Lounge, this is Maggie, would you like to make a reservation?"

"Nah, Mag. It's Rob. The boss there?"

"Yes. Do you want me to transfer you over to him?" Maggie asked.

"Yeah. Please," He tacked on, hoping his manners might give him any sort of luck when it came to telling the boss.

"What do you want, boy?" Cobblepot snarled into the phone.

"Boss, you're not going to believe this," Rob said.

"Spit it out."

"Dormouse ain't here, boss."

"What do you mean, she isn't there?" The boss demanded.

"Her cell is empty, boss."

"You better bloody well find her, then, boy! Or it'll be your head, you bloody-" The boss hung up on him. Rob sighed and pocketed the phone. Hell, he might as well continue his rounds as a fake guard as long as he was there. Maybe he'd find Dormouse.

"Hard to think this tiny thing could control every aspect of someone's life, huh?" Tommy said, looking at the tiny metal chip. The nurse nodded.

"Do you think she'll be cured?" He asked.

"Well, I don't know. Hopefully. We won't know until she wakes up."

"It'll be an incredible breakthrough in her case. Her psychologist is going to hate you."

"Now, we can't have that, can we?" Tommy said, smiling charmingly at the nurse. He set the chip down on his desk. "What do you say to dinner tonight, David?"

"Dinner? What, like-"

"It'll be a date," Tommy said to the other man. David smiled and nodded.

"Sure."

"Alright, meet me back here at Ten. It'll be my treat. How does Italian sound?"

"Sounds great, Doc."

"Ah-ah. We're going on a date. Call me...Tommy."

"Alright, Tommy."

A/N: Tommy is purposefully an ass :) And yes, yes he's gay. So what?

Replies!

SwordStitcher: Yes, yes it's not her personality. Ish. Sorta. Maybe. Not really. Kinda. Is it more devious leaving it like this? Or less devious?

Erik-is-my-angel1234:

Well, here you go, dahling! Hope you enjoy it!