It didn't take long for Charlotte to settle in. Even Roxanne commented within a handful of shifts on how much happier Charlotte seemed. While she wasn't completely back to normal, her spirits had certainly raised in the following weeks. Leaving the house for a bit, even for work, made her feel a lot more productive. She'd met with all of her patients at least three times and felt like they were all manageable. Some were a lot more problematic than others, but she loved getting to work with them, regardless.
She was filling out paperwork when the desk phone rang. "This is Charlotte."
"Hey, Doc, want to come up and help me? A couple of the guys want to talk and they're driving me crazy."
She smiled, "Sure, Brent, let me grab my gear. I'll be up there in a minute. It's been a slow day for intake, anyway."
Before heading out, Charlotte double-checked her coat, making sure had her pens, knife, taser, and notepad. When she got to the elevator, she stepped in, smiling to herself. This is so much better than staying on a computer all day. The doors clicked open and he saw a disgruntled Brent standing with his arms crossed.
"Thanks a lot," he said sarcastically, "They like you so much, they ask to see you all the time."
Charlotte laughed and put a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, better than them trying to stab each other with shivs on the daily, right?
Brent motioned for him to follow her down the hall, "Jameson, Kilpatrick, and Valeska have been driving me up the wall. They all want a session with you this afternoon."
"Jameson and Kilpatrick make sense, but Valeska? I just saw Jerome yesterday. He seemed fine…well, y'know…for him." The two stopped in front of his door.
"What's a guy gotta do to get let out first for once?" Jerome yelled, pounding on the glass.
She rolled her eyes and nodded at Brent, "Go ahead. I'll see what he wants."
"Get back, Jerome!" Brent yelled, "Don't make my job harder than it has to be." The pounding stop. "You know the drill. Hands where I can see them." He unlocked the door and carefully swung it open.
Jerome stood at the back of the cell with his hands up, smiling, "Hiya, Harlot."
"Okay, you can't keep calling me that," she crossed her arms before looking up at Brent, "Lock him back down."
"Fine, fine! Charlotte…Doctor…whatever…" Jerome put his hands down.
Brent looked back at Charlotte, "We good?"
"Yeah. Pull him out." She turned back to Jerome, "I just saw you yesterday, so this better be urgent and not some little trick. Can I trust you to not misbehave?"
"Me? Misbehave?" he put his hand on his chest, offended, "Never."
Brent cuffed Jerome and walked him to the elevators with Charlotte, "I'm short-staffed, so the guards down on the psychiatric treatment floor will have to take it from here. Is that alright?"
"That should be fine," Charlotte said, a bit wary.
Brent caught her tone and mouthed, "You sure?" where Jerome couldn't see.
She nodded back with a slight shrug. Those two aren't exactly my favorite people.
Charlotte got to the seventh floor with Jerome where Officer White and Officer Lakemen met them. Charlotte eyed them cautiously as they led her and Jerome in silence to the psychiatric treatment room she'd been assigned to. That's weird…they usually always have some smartass remark for me. They're unusually quiet today. I hate when they bother me, but this is just eerie. When she got into the room, White gave her a smirk, "Have fun."
Before she could respond, they slammed the door shut. She turned around, visibly frustrated, and eyed Jerome.
"What? Don't look at me. Those two always have a problem."
He's right. She sat down across from him.
"Actually…that's what I wanted to talk about."
"Oh yeah?" she asked, flipping open her notepad and writing down the date and time, "If you want to file a formal complaint against an officer, I'm not the one to talk to. Why didn't you—"
"Formal complaint?" he laughed, "No, no, no…Do I look like much of a formal guy to you? I just may or may not have overheard some rumors you might be interest in."
"Jerome, I'm here to do my job. Not to gossip. We're not friends."
"Maybe not…but what if it were to involve you?"
She looked up from her notepad, "Go on."
"You know the drill. Uncuff me and I'll talk."
Dammit. She got up and stepped around, carefully uncuffing him. After slipping the cuffs into her pocket, she walked back to her chair, watching his hands. He slowly pulled them around front, setting them on the table.
"That's more like it."
"So. Go on."
"I heard from—well, the source isn't important—but I heard that you filed an anonymous report on them."
What? How the hell does he know that? Her face started to flush. "I…don't know what you're talking about."
"You're not the best at concealing emotions, Doc."
She quickly stood back up, "Jerome, this session is over."
"I'm just saying…it'd be unfortunate if something were to happen to you. I may even feel a little guilty. At least I can say I warned you now."
Looking at the door, her heart started to pound. She looked back over at Jerome, and leaned in, trying to keep her voice low without getting too close, "Why didn't you just tell Brent?"
"Oh yeah, because he would believe me…"
"And why should I?" she hissed.
"Charlotte. Babe. We both know you filed that report. If I know about it, you should know that they know about it…and I've seen quite a few employees disappear here. Do the math. They've worked here for a while. Others don't last. I'm no genius, but—"
"Yeah, but what do you expect to gain out of this? I can't exactly imagine you selflessly looking out for my wellbeing."
He groaned sarcastically, smirking at her, "What, not used to a guy being nice to you?" When her face didn't budge he rolled his eyes, "Look, you're the first doctor in this damn place that hasn't tried to shove meds down my throat. I'll take what I can get. The other guys up on my floor have been easier to deal with since you started working here, too. I like not being doped up on whatever anti-psychotic these whack job fake-doctors have tried to prescribe me, and I like the other inmates being easy to manage. Is that good enough for you?"
That all checks out. It's not like he'd have a reason to lie to me…and if he knows about the report, he's right…those guys likely do as well. "Alright…so what? What do you expect me to do about it?"
"I don't know, I'm not the one who spent 200 years in college! I'm just saying…watch your back."
"Noted. Anything else?"
He leaned in closer, "How boutta kiss, gorgeous? You owe me, now, after all."
Looking back and forth between his eyes, Charlotte couldn't help but let out a small laugh, "I didn't spend 200 years in college just to lose my licensure over kissing some punk like you. Now follow my lead." She leaned back, raising her voice, "Alright, Jerome, let's get you back upstairs. I'll see you in a few days, alright?"
She got up and tapped on the door to tell the guards they were done. Before she could re-cuff Jerome, he walked past her through the doorway. Trying not to panic, Charlotte grabbed his wrist and started to pull out the handcuffs. Jerome turned to one of the guards and grinned, "You guys act so serious. Smile, would ya?"
Lakewood grabbed Jerome by the shirt and shoved him into the other side of the hall, ripping him from Charlotte's grasp, "Walk, Valeska."
"Hey! Hey!" she yelled at him, "You don't need to be a dick about it!"
Lakewood looked at White and nodded, "Time's up, Doc." They both grabbed her with one on each arm and pulled her towards the psychiatric room. "Let me go!" she yelled, struggling against them as they threw her into the room. She started to scream as they lunged towards her.
Right before the door shut behind White, Jerome grabbed it and swung it open. He flipped open a switchblade, causing both Lakewood and White turn. Lakewood pulled out his gun, but Jerome swept forward, stabbing him in the neck repeatedly. The man cried out in pain as White tried to pull Jerome off of him. Charlotte stumbled back against the wall in horror as Jerome spun around and, in one swift movement, slit White's throat, finishing them both off.
"Now that was uncalled for," Jerome said casually, wiping off the knife with his shirt, "Those are the kind of guys my mom used to date. I know you asked me if I had any examples last session. There ya have it." He closed the knife and held it out to Charlotte, "Thanks for letting me borrow this."
"I-I didn't," she whispered out.
He nodded, "Sure ya did. You just didn't notice when I took it as I passed by you on the way out." He slipped it into his pocket, "On second thought, I'll just take it as a little souvenir."
She slid to the floor, staring at the two dead men, "Jerome…do you know what you just did…?"
"Uhh, yeah? Saved your ass?" he said, sarcastically.
"I don't know how I'm supposed to explain this," she said, shaking her head.
The door unlocked and swung open and Brent stood in shock, "What the hell happened in here?!"
"Those guards? Total freaks," Jerome said, sitting up on the table.
Brent started to pull out his gun, "Oh, bullshit, I know—"
"No!" Charlotte shouted, scrambling up, "Brent, stop! He's telling the truth for once, I swear!"
"What?" Brent slowly lowered his gun, "Are you serious?"
She nodded, "I'm serious. We were just trying to leave and they harassed both of us."
"And that somehow resulted in two dead guards?" he asked.
"White and Lakewood found out I filed a report against them!" she blurted out. When she saw the look on Brent's face, she continued, "They tried to lock me in here with them, and…I think they were going to kill me…they said that my "time" was "up"…and…Jerome took my knife to help me out."
Brent put away his gun and groaned, "What did I tell you? I said specifically not to file tha—fuck it, we'll discuss this later. I'm not doing this in front of him. Come on, Valeska. Let's get you cleaned up."
Jerome smiled and skipped out of the room. Brent followed him, leaving Charlotte alone with the two bodies. She knelt down by the guards. It's not like they're going to miss these…and clearly I need protection. She pulled their knives from their belts and put them in her coat pocket. "Charlotte?" she heard Brent call out. Oh shit. She quickly got up and rushed out of the room, "Coming!"
She caught up to Brent and Jerome, following them back to the main block. When they got up to 13, a few nightshift guards were already waiting for them.
"You're all here early," Brent said, taken aback.
"We got called in," one of them said, "Some hotshot is getting transferred from Gotham General."
Jerome's eyes lit up, "Can we be hallmates? I'm a big fan of his work."
"Shut up, Valeska. You can get a shower soon, but now I don't have any time." Brent groaned, extending his keys "I didn't need this today. Can you put him up, Charlotte? I need to get briefed."
"Sure thing," she took the keys from him and lead an excited Jerome back to his cell. She went to shut his door, and looked around, "Hey, Jerome?"
He stretched out on his bed, "Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it," he winked, "Unless you want to repay me."
She sighed, "Seriously…thank you." Before shutting the door, she looked up at him one last time, "Oh, and Jerome? Why'd you say you're a fan of the guy in intake's work?"
He sat up and smiled, "Because I am."
"Do you actually know him?"
"Everyone does. I heard he got caught a couple of weeks back but was in the hospital for getting stabbed in the neck by a cop! Sick, right? I didn't believe it then, but now—"
"Is he famous or something?"
Jerome rolled his eyes, "Of course, were you not listening? I just told you, everyone knows Tetch."
She felt her face drained of all color.
Did he just say…Tetch?