"Get back, Valeska," Brent ordered, "We're just stopping by for chow."
Jerome ignored him, "So, sweetheart…what's your name?"
"Charlotte…er, Doctor—"
"Harlot! What a lovely name!"
Charlotte struggled not to get angry. Little punk…I haven't heard that stupid nickname since high school. "I said…Charlotte…"
"Don't engage," Brent whispered to her, "He definitely heard you."
"I know," she hissed, "Let's just feed him and be done with it."
"He's your new patient," Brent chuckled, "You'll need to learn how to deal with him."
"Speak up!" Jerome yelled, "It's hard to hear through all this stainless steel!"
"Good," Brent smirked, "We weren't talking to you. Now get back. Make me tell you again, and you aren't getting fed. You know the drill, lock your hands."
Jerome interlaced his fingers behind his head and walked backwards into the wall, "Jeez, see how they treat me in here?" he smiled at Charlotte, "It's almost like I'm a homicidal maniac or something."
Brent unlocked the door and set Jerome's tray on the ground. Charlotte looked him up and down. Yeah…Roxie's definitely shown me a shot of him in the papers…he must be the one who killed GCPD's captain a year or two ago…I know we heard about that way down at our college. "Well, it was nice meeting you…I'm the new psychiatrist here, so I'm sure I'll see you soon."
Brent closed the door and Jerome's face re-appeared in the window, "I look forward to it, Harlot."
She shuddered at his tone of voice but tried to brush it off. Brent led her down to the elevator. When it led them down to another floor, Brent stepped out first, "This is 3. All of the formal offices are down here. It's a bit more corporate, if you will. I'll show you yours." He walked down the hall until it hit a dead end. Unlocking the last door, he handed her the key, "All yours."
Charlotte walked into the spacious office and smiled. Yeah…this will work. She sat down at the desk, and Brent closed the door before sitting across from her. "So, a few things…I mentioned I made a list of the patients for you." He pulled out his notepad and ripped off a few pages, "I also made a list of people you can, in my opinion, trust here. That's a small list." He handed the papers to her, "The last page is the list of people you absolutely cannot trust. There are more, but those are the most important ones to watch out for."
She immediately flipped to the last page and looked at the six names. "Why do White, Keller, and Lakeman have asterisks next to theirs?"
"Those are the three I've been avoiding. Keller mysteriously resigned via email, but no one's actually heard from him…so I guess you can mark him off. All three of them…well, just trust me. I ain't a snitch, and I'm not about to mysteriously resign either."
"Wait, what? You think they knocked off Keller?"
"I don't know…all I do know is…" Brent sighed, leaning in closer, "I was watching the cameras, which rarely happens here…and I saw those three beat the shit out of a patient. Knowing them, I think White convinced Keller to go along with it. Keller was always sketchy, but never violent. White and Lakeman are the type, though. That being said, I later found out that the patient had a seizure or something when he was taken to medical. He ended up dying, and they found out in autopsy that his brain had hemorrhaged. It had to have been from those three jumping the poor kid, but they claimed they found him like that."
"Brent, you have to tell someone," Charlotte whispered back, "They killed him, and now another officer who was a witness disappeared. This isn't okay and you know it. You could be the one to—"
"Slow down there," Brent said, putting his hands over his eyes, "I saw nothing. You think I want to end up like Keller?"
"Well, someone has to say something."
"Please don't do it…I knew I shouldn't have said anything. Besides, even if you were to say something, I doubt they'd even get fired. That's just how it—" Brent's walkie went off: "Rover on 13!" He turned it down, "Shit, I've got to get back up there…but listen to me…you didn't hear anything, and you definitely didn't hear it from me. Take another minute to get acquainted to your office, then head down the hall. The guard at the front desk can let you out. You can also pick up your schedule there. I've gotta run, but was nice meeting you!"
Charlotte nodded, "Nice to meet you too, Brent! I look forward to working with you more." She watched as the door clicked shut, then looked around the room. I could put up some art in here…that'd make it a little less drab. At least I have a full filing cabinet and a big desk. This is nicer than my corner lot desk back home. I can definitely make this work. I'll bring some of my belongings on the next shift and this place will feel homey in no time.
She took a deep breath and exited the room. Before heading out to the front desk, she stopped into a restroom. While she was washing her hands, she mindlessly scanned the flyers on the bathroom mirror. She was quickly fixing her hair when one flyer caught her eye: "See Something – Say Something! Anonymous Tip Hotline for Psychiatric Treatment Facilities – (735) 988 2513" Charlotte looked around before tearing off one of the phone numbers and shoving it in her pocket.
The cab ride home felt like an out of body experience. Charlotte stared out the window, watching Arkham shrink in the distance. She wasn't sure how she felt about getting the job. On one hand, Roxanne was right…she needed to get out of the house more. Locking herself away in her room every day was unhealthy. She'd lost too much weigh and could see dark circles under her eyes heavier than those she had in med school. Ever since Jervis—
Jervis.
That damned name again. She'd gone so long without thinking about him, but something about being in Arkham reignited the flame. She closed her eyes, thinking about the last time she saw him. He seemed to have declined rapidly after losing his sister. A small amount of guilt pumped through her veins as she thought about what he'd said to her…about how she was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. She, alone, kept him sane.
No. I can't allow myself to feel any kind of blame for anything he might have done since then. I know Roxie has tried to turn off any news revolving around him, but I've caught bits and pieces. He's deranged. I clearly dodged a bullet. Who knows? I could've ended up dead if I would have stuck around him. Yeah, that's it. I just need to keep reminding myself that he's unhinged. But still...
She started to spiral. It was the first time she'd allowed herself to think about him. About that night. Her mind worked backwards and found itself to the day she went out for tea with him. Next thing she knew, she found herself inside of her own head, taking his hand:
"I've got to say, I didn't expect this," she said, following his lead.
He looked away, "I'm sure there are a lot of things about me you wouldn't expect."
"If they're anything like this," Charlotte smiled, "I think I'll be alright with finding out more."
"We'll see," he said, spinning her out away from him.
Charlotte laughed, "Why do you sound so unsure if you're not scared, Jervis?"
He spun her back in so she was pressed against his chest and looked her in the eyes, "I'm not."
Luckily for her sanity, the cab driver broke her train of thought, "We're here, ma'am."
"Thank you," she stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind her. She took a minute to herself, breathing in the cool air. She looked up into the night sky and silently prayed for him to get out of her head.
What happened to Jervis? He was so perfect…but I can't hold onto that anymore. I have a new home, a new job. It's time to move on. Clearly, I didn't know him as well as I thought I did.
She stepped inside the building, telling herself on the way upstairs that she was completely over everything that had happened…
…but no matter how much she lied to herself, she couldn't seem to get the taste of him off of her lips.
Roxanne rushed Charlotte the second she came through the door, "How'd it go? You were gone for so long, and I saw you left your phone here, and—"
"Chill, Roxie, I'm okay…and it went fine."
"So…did you get the job?"
"Yes, I got the—"
"YES! Celebration time! I believed in you so much that I already ordered takeout. I'll pop it in the microwave, if you wanna go get on some comfy clothes."
"Thanks, Rox. You're the best," Charlotte smiled and headed off to her bedroom. She quickly stripped off her clothes and threw them on the floor. After switching into some sweatpants and an oversized sweater, she went back out into the dining room.
"Alright, you have to tell me everything! I'm dying to know what a place like Arkham looks like on the inside." Roxanne set down both of their takeout boxes and sat next to Charlotte, "Did you get to tour the place?"
Charlotte popped open her box and stirred up the lo mein inside, "First off, you know me so well, so thank you for this. Secondly, yeah, I got to see a couple of the floors…Oh! And I can't talk much about it, but, I've been assigned to their worst floor. I'm not thrilled, but I know you love all that true crime shit, so—"
"Who've ya got? Kleper? Jones? Morris?"
"Calm down!" Charlotte laughed, "I don't recognize any of those names…but I know I've got some people from some cult…oh, and Jerome Valeska."
"Shut. Up. You're totally lying."
"I'm not! He's one of my patients now. Again, I can't talk about anything he says, but I figured you'd like to know that…and I was hoping you could tell me what you know about these people. I could use all the background I could get. Let's just say Arkham doesn't seem the most organized when it comes to documentation. They basically just threw me into the deep end."
"You know I'd love to! Ask away. When we finish eating, I can show you some of the newspaper clippings I have in my room."
After hours of Roxanne blabbering away about the various people Charlotte had encountered, they both decided to continue the conversation in the morning. Charlotte took a long, hot shower before stumbling into her room. It's been such a long day. She signed into her computer, checking in on her online patients. Though she felt a twinge of guilt, she started to look up local psychiatrists in their areas to refer them to. I can handle both jobs for now but won't be able to for long. At least not when I get more patients at Arkham.
She reached down to plug in her phone when she saw a missed call from Harvey. Clicking on the voicemail, she held the phone up to her ear and listened: "Charlotte? It's Harvey Bullock. I know you probably don't want to hear about him, but Jervis Tetch—" She slammed the phone shut and her mind started to race. Dammit! I have to stop letting him get inside my head. I don't know what it is about today, but if I think about that man one more time, I'm going to lose it. She flipped the phone back open and deleted the voicemail without a second thought.
Charlotte rolled over to turn off her lamp when something on the floor caught her eye. She got up and grabbed the small piece of paper.
"(735) 988 2513"