A/N

Yaay Jerome is back on Gotham! So I'm probably going to have to speed things up a tiny bit haha!

Basically, I'm thinking within a few chapters we'll be up to speed with season 3 and the cult and suchlike so woop to more Lacey and Jerome interactions! I've missed them haha!

Please enjoy this chapter and leave a review if you have time! Thanks :)

The day that Galavan's tank was emptied was the day that Lacey was stripped of her life of imprisoned luxury.

She'd been deeply angry to find her proclaimed nemesis re-animated before her deceased boyfriend and this frustration had prompted Lacey to attack the authority she'd been presented with – how dare Strange go behind her back in such a way!

Tracking down Strange to one of his experimentation units, Lacey barged straight in but saw no sign of him or his assistant. Frowning, she approached the glass above and looked down into the room below; startled to see an all-too familiar face staring back up at her, a certain ferocity in his eyes. For a moment, Lacey watched puzzled; while Galavan looked the same, there was something off about the expression he wore and the way in which he presented himself. Before he had oozed a certain cocky self-assurance but now it was so much more – some kind of delusional superiority had absorbed him.

Deciding to take the chance, Lacey headed down into the main room and stood firmly by the door; remaining cautious of the man before her in case the experiments had given him some kind of dangerous ability.

"Remember me?" Lacey uttered, taking one step closer, all while Galavan stood staring baffled at her. "Lacey. Lacey Monroe."

"You should not be in here." Galavan furrowed his brow, his eyes intense and brow furrowed. "Puny girl, leave now. I am all-powerful, I have the order of St. Dumas on my side."

"You what?" Lacey cocked her head to the side. "You okay Theo?"

"I am Azrael!" Galavan bellowed, his expression lacking any humanity as he threw his arms in the air. "And you will bow down to me!"

Lacey almost laughed at that. "What, are you some kind of god now?"

Without warning, Galavan grabbed hold of Lacey by the throat, squeezing tightly as she gasped for air, clutching at his wrists as she was lifted off the ground. "I am Azrael! You will address me as such and bow down to me!"

Her breathing speeding up, Lacey clutched at Theo's hands, feeling the room spinning around her. She knew she didn't have the physical strength to fight back, nor could she verbally defend herself. So when she heard the door swing open, Lacey would've thanked some other force if she could've.

Although a faint echo, Lacey recognised Strange's voice; his words inaudible yet she gathered he must've been convincing. Galavan dropped Lacey to the floor and she lay there, gasping desperately as the room slowly fell in and out of focus. That was when she felt Strange lift her to her feet and quickly drag her out of the room with the help of Ms Peabody, while Galavan continued to rant and rave to himself in the darkened room.

Lacey woke up in a hospital bed, although she wasn't in the infirmary, rather in what appeared to be a private room. It seemed quaint and clean, with white walls and the smell of fresh linen and most refreshing of all…silence. No faint screams or mad ramblings could be heard, just a certain tranquillity that Lacey had believed to be long gone. That was the reason why it all felt a little too surreal.

A shadow in the doorway caught Lacey's attention and she looked up, trying to focus her attention in order to make out the figure at the end of the room. "Where am I?"

The lack of response displeased Lacey and she raised her voice somewhat, although it cracked somewhat. "Where the fuck am I? Who are you?"

One step, two steps…the figure strode slowly over to Lacey until the lamp illuminated their features, bringing an identity to their shadow. Lacey couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"You know who I am, Lacey." A soft voice spoke, a gentle yet firm smile in place. "And don't worry, you're in good hands."

"Tania, what the hell? You're fucking dead, I killed you."

Doctor Roberts shrugged as she approached Lacey's bed and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Maybe so, but the human mind is a very powerful tool…and yours brought me here."

"Okay, what meds did Strange give me? Because I'm either drugged up or I've truly lost my mind." Lacey scoffed, and tugged her arms, frowning when she discovered she was bound to the bed. "Okay doc, just say whatever it is you came here to say then leave my mind."

"You're wrong to trust Strange, you know." She insisted, "he's using your devotion to Jerome to get what he wants. He knows you're valuable and he doesn't want you to get better."

"Neither do I." Lacey muttered, narrowing her eyes as the therapist took a seat at her bedside. "I love being crazy, I don't want to go back."

"He wants to turn you into one of his creations. Just like with Jerome, and Galavan…you've witnessed the products of his psyche first-hand, Lacey. How can you still trust him?"

Lacey shrugged, "I don't trust him, I just need him to revive Jerome. Then things can go back to normal."

"Normal?" Another female voice caught Lacey's attention and she turned her head to the right, only to be met with a sad and familiar expression. "The word sounds foreign coming from you, Lacey. There is no normal when it comes to you. You were always this way, a stranger to me. It just became more severe as you got older…"

Lacey tried to sit up, her body tensing slightly as the woman walked towards her. "Mom? Why are you here?"

"We should've sent you to an asylum sooner, it would've saved a lot of trouble – and a lot of lives." Doreen hung her head. "Maybe then your father and I could have been at peace."

"Not likely, he was an abusive misogynistic pig." Lacey shook her head. "How can you still defend him after everything he did."

"You were always an embarrassment, a disappointment." Doreen whispered with a sad edge to her voice. "I always longed for a daughter who would be beautiful and graceful but you were neither of those things. Hell, you weren't even normal. You cried too much as a baby, you demanded too much attention as a child…then suddenly you became withdrawn. I never knew what was on your mind, you'd just sit in the corner of the room and stare…like some inhuman being."

"Like a monster."

Lacey couldn't help but recognise that voice instantly and she felt her heart in her chest as its owner stood directly over her bed, looking down on her as he'd always done.

"You're a monster, Lacey. You always were."

"You made me this way…" Lacey hissed, struggling in her restraints.

"You have no idea." Lawrence shook his head. "Everyone talked about your mother and I, because we raised such a sick creature. We were a laughing stock, because you could never act normally! You were always staring, always attracting some kind of unwanted attention. You were a waste of space, a waste of life. Perhaps my methods of discipline were…unconventional, but it was the only way to teach you a lesson. You were inferior and you had to understand that."

"It wasn't discipline, it was abuse." Lacey balled her hands into fists, so tightly that her nails dug into her skin. "You were the sick one, not me."

Lawrence leaned closer to Lacey, causing her to shrink away in fear. She hated herself for being so afraid but her father had caused her to live in terror for years. Even though she'd murdered him herself, there had always been that fear that one day he'd return. Lacey did have a weakness after all, her biggest fear, and it was the man who should've protected her. The man who was supposed to offer unconditional love and comfort…who was supposed to walk her down the aisle someday…not push her over the edge of sanity.

"Everything I did was for your own good. You deserved everything you got, you pathetic little bitch." Lawrence's tone was cruel, his words cut through Lacey like a sharp blade. She'd heard it all before; her father's critique of her became the norm in the months leading up to his death yet it still filled her with rage. All while causing her to involuntarily quiver in fear. Because she knew all-too well that Lawrence Monroe was a man who would never back down. He was willing to resort to the most extreme lengths just to maintain order in his kingdom. And even though Lacey knew she was dreaming, she still felt the sting of what he was saying. She still feared for her life.

Desperately, she turned to her left to find the chair once occupied by Tania Roberts to be empty, and to her right, no sign of her mother. It was just Lacey and Lawrence in the white room.

"Stay away from me!" Lacey shouted, thrashing her body frantically in an attempt to break free from the bed that she had been confined to. She needed to get out, to get away from the man who had destroyed her. The man who had harmed her time and time again. "Help! Help me!"

Lacey felt the room shrink around her, the four walls closing in as Lawrence drew his knife and placed it against Lacey's throat. "It has to be done, Lacey. Remember that."

Screaming desperately, Lacey closed her eyes as Lawrence drew his arm back, preparing to strike. But she felt no pain, no sharp sensation. Instead, all she heard was laughter.

Carefully opening her eyes, Lacey saw no sign of her father, but instead she saw Jerome before her; his grin wide and menacing, but it made her feel safe. She couldn't help but smile. "Jerome…you're here…you're alive."

Stepping over Lawrence's body, Jerome freed Lacey from her restraints and chuckled. "What, you think I'd stay away forever? Don't you know me at all, gorgeous?"

"You have no idea how good it is to see you." Lacey sat up, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed as she stared at Jerome in bewilderment, trying to find some kind of abnormality that would remind her that she was only dreaming. But everything was the same, he hadn't changed one bit. "Please tell me this is real, that you're real."

"Of course I am, gorgeous. I know I'm ridiculously handsome and all but all this is real." The redhead gestured to his body then laughed. "But seriously, you just gonna sit there or are you gonna come with me?" He held out his hand. "C'mon, Lacey. It's time to go."

Lacey reached forward to take Jerome's hand but stopped herself, reluctant yet somehow certain. "No, I can't. You're not real and I need to wake up before you can come back for good. I will see you again Jerome, I will bring you back if it's the last thing I do."

A sharp jolt brought Lacey back to reality and she saw her surroundings for what they really were. Her clean bed was really an operating table and the white room was quite the opposite. She noticed Hugo Strange standing over her, a focused look on his face as he took a step back upon noticing her wake up.

"Strange…what's…" Lacey winced as a sharp pain shot through her body.

"I apologise my dear but, well, I realised that you just weren't strong enough. You needed an…upgrade."

Confused, Lacey looked down and was mortified to see that her right arm was adorned with scales, and that her hand had been replaced with a reptilian-looking claw. She gasped, genuinely panicked. "What did you do!"

"I imagined you'd be pleased…you have no idea how much strength will be within that arm alone. Of course it'll be an adjustment but, well, you're such a glorious creation." The pride in Strange's voice made Lacey feel sick and she couldn't bear to look at her arm, instead shaking her head furiously as the medication she'd been drugged with continued to play with her head.

"You're batshit crazy!" Lacey exclaimed, crying in pain when she tried to move her arm. "Fucking insane!"

"I understand that you're upset, but soon you will come to realise that I've granted you with an amazing ability." The doctor's tone hardly altered, even when Lacey began screaming angrily. His posture remained firm, as did his expression. He was completely unmoved; fixed in his belief that his actions were necessary.

"You've turned me into a monster!" Lacey tried to sit up but was far too disorientated. "We're through, Strange! You might as well kill me now because I'll never be one of your fucked up minions!"

Strange shook his head, "in time, Lacey. Once you've adjusted to your new uniqueness then you'll thank me. You'll see."

Lacey had no idea what happened after that; pain searing through her body, she blacked out, waking up days later in yet another unfamiliar room. But this time, something felt different.