Chapter 26
The next 18 months were insanity for Arkham and all members of staff. The newly renamed Poison Ivy had been detained but then her plants had ripped Arkham apart several times over. Trying to contain her was nearly impossible and they'd had to get super creative. Ivy had to be kept in a green house where they could monitor how much sunlight she received and how much she could interact with plant life. They had a special spray system installed that could fill the Greenhouse with weed killer potent enough to push Ivy out of action until wardens could physically restrain her and put her into another secure site. Pamela had a long rap sheet of her crimes and the only place that seemed to be safe enough was her current green house. Her appearance on the street had caused a crime spike like no other. The crime families began to war, more unusual characters were spotted and arrested. During one of Ivy's break outs, she purposefully let murderers like Zsasz escape to help fuel this war. With the police and emergency services kept busy by the rabble, Ivy could plot and ravage the city in the name of the Green.
The spike in people being dumped on Arkham Asylum's doorstep had meant everyone had more work, they had to sift through the different files to separate those that needed Arkham to those who could go to Blackgate or Bludhaven prisons. Everything had changed with how Arkham ran, Bruce Wayne's old apartment had been rebuilt into more rooms and they had very carefully structured movement times for the patients just to make sure incompatible personalities didn't meet. Sometimes Orderlies or senior members of staff had to eat lunch with a patient – despite the inherent danger in doing so – just to make sure both had something to eat during the day. Patients that were yet to have a diagnosis were sedated and kept calm to try and help stagger the work load and the most dangerous patients were left to just a handful of staff and had very little time outside of their rooms. It was an accident waiting to happen and everyone knew it.
Harleen had been banned from speaking to Pamela; Sharpe and Jonathon pulled rank and forbade her from having any contact with her former friend. It had almost torn Harleen and Jonathon apart. Their arguments were spectacular – the make ups even more so. They would go without speaking for days at a time, only to find themselves clawing at each other once their silence was broken. It wasn't that they'd fallen out of love, or hated each other, but Harleen's loyalty was matched by Jonathon's possessive need to keep her safe and he didn't care what it took to keep her from Pamela.
They were both burnt out and needed a break. They'd been pulling 12 hour shifts and working from home with a day off here or there. Jonathon was near to his breaking point and he couldn't cope with seeing Harleen so run down and close to a break down either. He strode through the halls of the Asylum, ignoring jeers from various patients and crooks. The filtering system was taking too long. Most of these people had no need to be here, but the GCPD didn't have anywhere else to put them. He walked into Sharpe's office without knocking and watched the older man jump and cough on his coffee.
"Jonathon-"
"Sharpe, we need time off." Jonathon told him. "I am done for, I don't know how Harleen is still going. We're off from today for at least three weeks. We both need some time far away from this fucking shit hole."
"Don't hide your feelings, Carr, just tell me honestly…" Quincy rolled his eyes. "Yes. Okay. I'll make some calls and figure out something-"
"I don't think you-"
"Carr, I cannot just let you both go for a prolonged amount of time right now," Quincy snapped. "Not right now. We are over capacity and everyone is over-worked. Once we've got a proper system for filtering out some of the liars from the actually mentally ill, then I can see what I've got to work with. Right now it's all hands on deck."
"We work with the most dangerous of patients-"
"And I have no one to replace you, no one will come up from Central, Midway or even Metropolis," Sharpe told him. "Every head case and freak show Gotham could possibly offer have come to the surface since Pamela's… Poison Ivy's escape. The GCPD are dropping off people every day and we cannot afford for our best and brightest to just take off."
"Just Harleen then-"
"No, there's some government big wig that wants to talk to her, something to do with her college study," Quincy said. "I have no idea when they'll be here. Just a bit longer and then we can talk about this again."
"This is fucking dangerous, Quincy," Jonathon snarled. "Someone's going to get badly hurt or killed!"
"Let's not think so negatively, Jonathon. Besides, some of the crazies are talking about a vigilante coming after them, maybe their own demon will encourage them to behave."
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Harleen marched to her next appointment, it wasn't even noon and she was on her third cup of coffee. Her file and notepad were tattered, torn and scribbled over with how big her workload was, she had to do something to keep her awake and focused through the day. Her next appointment needed her to be awake and alert but not tense. Waylon was particularly sensitive to change and she had to balance everything very carefully with him. His condition was certainly worsening, the scales that grew from his skin were tough and there were more than ever before.
"Morning, Waylon," Harleen said cheerily as she entered into his room. He had a pool and a standard cell. His skin was certainly better now he could soak. "How are you?"
"Doctor Quinzel."
"I'm sorry I'm late, I've organised a nice lunch for you today," Harleen smiled and took a seat at her desk. "Meat feast pizza with extra pepperoni."
"You just ain't like them others, Quinzel," Waylon chuckled and hauled himself out of the water. "You actually give a shit."
"We all do, Waylon, just some people are a bit… difficult," Harleen answered. He was calm and well behaved with her so she was happy to have him free of restraints. He was a gentlemen when she dealt with him and she put that down to having built a very solid relationship with the man. She didn't see the monsters that other's saw, she saw a young man that had been bullied into regrettable life choices.
"That's true," Waylon smirked. "How's your boyfriend?"
"He's fine," Harleen nodded. "Sexy and hot. He's still got the best ass."
"You disgust me, Quinzel."
"So why'd you ask?"
"Because you smell different," Waylon told her. He sat opposite her and took a long breath in, trying to figure out why she smelled so different. "You normally smell of Him and perfume. But there's something else."
He darted his head forward and licked her forearm, Harleen didn't jump but the guards by the door did. They immediately grabbed their guns and took a step forward, ready to either stun Waylon or kill him. Harleen put her hand up and the guards stepped back.
"Vanilla skin cream, sweat and… hormones. Yes… progesterone, oestrogen and…" Waylon growled a little before laughing a little. "Oh Doctor Quinzel."
"What, Waylon?"
"How delicious…" Waylon chuckled. "You don't know yet... This is brilliant. I'm ready to be left alone for the day, doctor."
"But-"
"Believe me, Doc, you've got bigger problems," Waylon growled and slunk away from the table. He splashed back down into the water and Harleen huffed. She rubbed her face for a few minutes before she left the room and he guards exited too. She was frustrated with patients that wouldn't talk and Waylon behaving like this was just the icing on the cake. She went to her office and dumped her papers on the desk, Harleen sat on her chair and let out a long sigh.
"I need a holiday."
"Good luck with that," Jonathon said from the doorway. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, babe," Harleen replied and a smile crept across her face as Jonathon walked over to her. He kissed her and then leaned against the desk. "I told Waylon that you still had a nice ass and he said I stank of you."
"How… nice."
"Well, it's that or we talk about food and right now I don't think I could stomach that discussion too much," Harleen shrugged. "Just too busy to sit and eat, none of our patients get to eat in the dining hall and you won't let me see Pammy-"
"She exudes a toxic pheromone that has been known to kill in 3 minutes," Jonathon interrupted. "No, I'm not going to let you go and have a cosy lunch date with her. I spoke to Sharpe about time off and it was a big fat fuck you."
"I'm not surprised, I told you it was a long shot," Harleen mumbled. She stood up and pressed into him as his arms came around her. He pressed a kiss into her hair and closed his eyes for a few seconds, savouring the brief moment of peace. Harleen was calm on the outside, but internally she was panicking. She didn't know what Waylon Jones had meant, but it terrified her that he knew something about her own body before she did.
"I'm going to get us a couple bottles of wine on the way home," Jonathon told her. "I think we deserve it."
"You get the wine and I'll get the dinner?" Harleen suggested.
She didn't want him to be following her around the shop like a kicked puppy. Especially not for a couple of things she needed to get.