When Nightmares Come Part 4
He staggered down the corridor as quickly as he could. He could feel the medications from that last injection starting to cloud his mind. Dick leaned against the wall taking deep breaths. He needed time -- time to think -- time to recover -- to dry out. But he didn't have time. He heard the guards approaching. He had to leave. Dick tried to steady himself and started to run down the hallway. If only he had somewhere to hide from the guards. He had to hide. Had to think. Had to escape.
But he couldn't escape if he couldn't figure out where he was. He wasn't in Arkham, he couldn't be. They were behind him, he heard them getting closer and closer. If he didn't do something soon, the guards would overtake him.
His eyelids were getting heavy. He was beginning to feel the effect of the drugs spreading through his system and was losing focus. Damn that doctor and damn his drugs.
As Dick rounded a corner, he saw a light. Escape. Hope. He had hope. He had to have it, to endure. Now there literally was a light at the end of the tunnel. Dick moved toward the light. He saw it streaming in from a small opening above a heavy metal door. He pressed his shoulder into the door trying desperately to get it to open.
"Stop!" The guards were yelling at him.
He looked at them and pressed harder against the door. It had to open. He had to get out of here. He heard the guards running toward him as he felt the door give way. He half fell half stumbled through the door and onto the deck of a ship. He saw Gotham City in front of him. He was on the wharf, on a ship. Arkham wasn't a ship. He was right. Now he had to escape.
"Stop! Grayson, stop or we'll shoot."
Frantically, he looked behind him as he continued to escape attempt. His hand rested against the side of the ship as he pushed himself to keep going. He had to find Bruce. He needed Bruce. He tried to duck when he heard the shot, but the medications had him too unsteady. He cried out when he felt the violent piercing into his skin. The heat from the tranquilizer rushed through his body as he fell onto the deck of the ship. Dick continued to crawl, desperate to get away.
He heard the guards surrounding him as he fell into the nothingness of unconsciousness.
***********************************************************************
He woke from a restless sleep, sweat on his brow, but he was cold. Looking around, he knew he was back in his small cell. He sat up and leaned against the wall.
"I'm not crazy," he said aloud, not sure if it was a statement of fact or a plea to convince himself. His voice and his breathing were the only sounds he heard. "This isn't Arkham. Don't know where -- "
"But it IS Arkham Dick," he heard the voice say. Looking up he saw Bruce Wayne. Or at least a man who looked and sounded just like Bruce Wayne.
"This is a ship."
"Yes. The old Arkham suffered a lot of damage in the earthquake. The new facility isn't completed yet. They've been using the old prison ship in the Harbor. You remember that," Bruce replied.
"N-no. Why ... why're you ... here," Dick slurred.
"Dr. Thaggan called me about your trouble earlier. He fears that your therapy session caused you to act out. Son, I want you to get well, you need --"
"Shut up! SHUT THE HELL UP!" Dick yelled as he rushed the door, his arms trying to grasp the man who stood outside his cell. "You. Are. Not. Bruce."
The man who looked like Bruce shook his head. "I know what you're upset about. Why you're trying to run away. Dr. Thaggan said you mentioned I had 'abused' you when you were growing up."
Dick stared wide-eyed at the man before him. He noticed the change of his inflection when he said the word "abused". This wasn't Bruce. There was something -- sinister -- about this man. Dick watched him as he continued talking.
"Son, you don't need to mention that. It's our 'little secret' remember. Whatever problems you're having aren't related to that. It was a long time ago. I ... I haven't touched you ... like ... THAT ... in years. You were ... were sixteen. Yes, your birthday. I ... I remember. Do you remember Dickie?"
Dick's eyes were wide as he watched the man in front of him speaking. His mind rebelled against the words coming from the man's mouth. He started shaking his head. No ... this wasn't happening. He ... he wasn't hearing ... THIS.
"Do you remember? It wasn't --"
"SHUT THE HELL UP! YOU'RE LYING! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Dick's face showed his anger. He desperately moved his hands to cover his ears. He wouldn't hear this.
"Dickie -- "
"Don't call me that. Don't EVER call me that! You're not Bruce. Bruce didn't ... he wouldn't ... you didn't ... did you?"
Bruce looked sympathetically at the distraught young man behind the bars. "Did it upset you? I ... I'm sorry if it did. I ... I always thought you ... liked it."
Tears came unbidden from Dick's eyes. He knew it was the medications that kept him from controlling his emotions. "Like it? Who could like that? What child could like that? How could you --- you didn't -- you're NOT Bruce. You didn't ... Bruce didn't ... not to me. Not to me," Dick's last statement was a whisper. He moved to the back wall, placing his hands against the cold steel. The coldness filled his very essence. He was overcome by a hiccupping spasm as he slid down to the floor. "No, no, no."
***********************************************************************
He was shackled when he was brought into Dr. Thaggan's office. The guards forced him into the chair in front of the desk. They strapped his legs to the chair so he couldn't kick again. Heavy leather straps bound his arms to the chair as well. Sad blue eyes looked across the desk at the psychiatrist.
"Guards, why don't you leave Dick and I alone," the doctor suggested as he looked at the young man sympathetically. "How are we today?"
Dick turned his face away from the doctor.
"Do we want to discuss your father's visit yesterday?"
"He's not my father," Dick said quietly.
"Well, adoptive father," Thaggan added.
'That wasn't Bruce', Dick thought to himself. They couldn't make him believe that. He wouldn't believe that because Bruce would never hurt him -- not like that -- well he had hurt him emotionally -- a lot. But ... but that was different. That was because Bruce was anal-retentive when it came to showing emotions. He didn't really mean to hurt him -- had he? Had Bruce meant to hurt him? Why did Bruce say those things yesterday? -- No! That wasn't Bruce.
"-- into the light."
"What?" Dick asked as he turned toward the doctor.
"Look into the light, Dick. We're going to try something different today. Just relax."
Dick shook his head. Hypnosis. He couldn't be hypnotized, wouldn't be. Too dangerous. Bruce had taught him mind control -- taught him how to prevent situations like these -- hadn't he? But ... but the medications ... he could barely stay lucid -- IF he was lucid.
"Relax and look into the light. Listen to the sound of my voice ..."
I shouldn't listen to him ....
"... to the sound of my voice"
I shouldn't listen ...
"... sound of my voice"
I shouldn't ..
"... my voice"
Dick's eyes started to close. He could no longer command his body nor his mind as he succumbed to nothingness.
To Be Continued ...
He staggered down the corridor as quickly as he could. He could feel the medications from that last injection starting to cloud his mind. Dick leaned against the wall taking deep breaths. He needed time -- time to think -- time to recover -- to dry out. But he didn't have time. He heard the guards approaching. He had to leave. Dick tried to steady himself and started to run down the hallway. If only he had somewhere to hide from the guards. He had to hide. Had to think. Had to escape.
But he couldn't escape if he couldn't figure out where he was. He wasn't in Arkham, he couldn't be. They were behind him, he heard them getting closer and closer. If he didn't do something soon, the guards would overtake him.
His eyelids were getting heavy. He was beginning to feel the effect of the drugs spreading through his system and was losing focus. Damn that doctor and damn his drugs.
As Dick rounded a corner, he saw a light. Escape. Hope. He had hope. He had to have it, to endure. Now there literally was a light at the end of the tunnel. Dick moved toward the light. He saw it streaming in from a small opening above a heavy metal door. He pressed his shoulder into the door trying desperately to get it to open.
"Stop!" The guards were yelling at him.
He looked at them and pressed harder against the door. It had to open. He had to get out of here. He heard the guards running toward him as he felt the door give way. He half fell half stumbled through the door and onto the deck of a ship. He saw Gotham City in front of him. He was on the wharf, on a ship. Arkham wasn't a ship. He was right. Now he had to escape.
"Stop! Grayson, stop or we'll shoot."
Frantically, he looked behind him as he continued to escape attempt. His hand rested against the side of the ship as he pushed himself to keep going. He had to find Bruce. He needed Bruce. He tried to duck when he heard the shot, but the medications had him too unsteady. He cried out when he felt the violent piercing into his skin. The heat from the tranquilizer rushed through his body as he fell onto the deck of the ship. Dick continued to crawl, desperate to get away.
He heard the guards surrounding him as he fell into the nothingness of unconsciousness.
***********************************************************************
He woke from a restless sleep, sweat on his brow, but he was cold. Looking around, he knew he was back in his small cell. He sat up and leaned against the wall.
"I'm not crazy," he said aloud, not sure if it was a statement of fact or a plea to convince himself. His voice and his breathing were the only sounds he heard. "This isn't Arkham. Don't know where -- "
"But it IS Arkham Dick," he heard the voice say. Looking up he saw Bruce Wayne. Or at least a man who looked and sounded just like Bruce Wayne.
"This is a ship."
"Yes. The old Arkham suffered a lot of damage in the earthquake. The new facility isn't completed yet. They've been using the old prison ship in the Harbor. You remember that," Bruce replied.
"N-no. Why ... why're you ... here," Dick slurred.
"Dr. Thaggan called me about your trouble earlier. He fears that your therapy session caused you to act out. Son, I want you to get well, you need --"
"Shut up! SHUT THE HELL UP!" Dick yelled as he rushed the door, his arms trying to grasp the man who stood outside his cell. "You. Are. Not. Bruce."
The man who looked like Bruce shook his head. "I know what you're upset about. Why you're trying to run away. Dr. Thaggan said you mentioned I had 'abused' you when you were growing up."
Dick stared wide-eyed at the man before him. He noticed the change of his inflection when he said the word "abused". This wasn't Bruce. There was something -- sinister -- about this man. Dick watched him as he continued talking.
"Son, you don't need to mention that. It's our 'little secret' remember. Whatever problems you're having aren't related to that. It was a long time ago. I ... I haven't touched you ... like ... THAT ... in years. You were ... were sixteen. Yes, your birthday. I ... I remember. Do you remember Dickie?"
Dick's eyes were wide as he watched the man in front of him speaking. His mind rebelled against the words coming from the man's mouth. He started shaking his head. No ... this wasn't happening. He ... he wasn't hearing ... THIS.
"Do you remember? It wasn't --"
"SHUT THE HELL UP! YOU'RE LYING! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Dick's face showed his anger. He desperately moved his hands to cover his ears. He wouldn't hear this.
"Dickie -- "
"Don't call me that. Don't EVER call me that! You're not Bruce. Bruce didn't ... he wouldn't ... you didn't ... did you?"
Bruce looked sympathetically at the distraught young man behind the bars. "Did it upset you? I ... I'm sorry if it did. I ... I always thought you ... liked it."
Tears came unbidden from Dick's eyes. He knew it was the medications that kept him from controlling his emotions. "Like it? Who could like that? What child could like that? How could you --- you didn't -- you're NOT Bruce. You didn't ... Bruce didn't ... not to me. Not to me," Dick's last statement was a whisper. He moved to the back wall, placing his hands against the cold steel. The coldness filled his very essence. He was overcome by a hiccupping spasm as he slid down to the floor. "No, no, no."
***********************************************************************
He was shackled when he was brought into Dr. Thaggan's office. The guards forced him into the chair in front of the desk. They strapped his legs to the chair so he couldn't kick again. Heavy leather straps bound his arms to the chair as well. Sad blue eyes looked across the desk at the psychiatrist.
"Guards, why don't you leave Dick and I alone," the doctor suggested as he looked at the young man sympathetically. "How are we today?"
Dick turned his face away from the doctor.
"Do we want to discuss your father's visit yesterday?"
"He's not my father," Dick said quietly.
"Well, adoptive father," Thaggan added.
'That wasn't Bruce', Dick thought to himself. They couldn't make him believe that. He wouldn't believe that because Bruce would never hurt him -- not like that -- well he had hurt him emotionally -- a lot. But ... but that was different. That was because Bruce was anal-retentive when it came to showing emotions. He didn't really mean to hurt him -- had he? Had Bruce meant to hurt him? Why did Bruce say those things yesterday? -- No! That wasn't Bruce.
"-- into the light."
"What?" Dick asked as he turned toward the doctor.
"Look into the light, Dick. We're going to try something different today. Just relax."
Dick shook his head. Hypnosis. He couldn't be hypnotized, wouldn't be. Too dangerous. Bruce had taught him mind control -- taught him how to prevent situations like these -- hadn't he? But ... but the medications ... he could barely stay lucid -- IF he was lucid.
"Relax and look into the light. Listen to the sound of my voice ..."
I shouldn't listen to him ....
"... to the sound of my voice"
I shouldn't listen ...
"... sound of my voice"
I shouldn't ..
"... my voice"
Dick's eyes started to close. He could no longer command his body nor his mind as he succumbed to nothingness.
To Be Continued ...