THE BEST MEDICINE
Chapter Three: Sleeping All Eternity
***
Disclaimer: The Batman places, characters and things in this fiction belong to Bob Kane, DC Comics and Warner Brothers. The sources are Batman I, Batman: The Animated Series, The New Batman Adventures series and Batman: Mask of the Phantasm. Everything else is either Historical, Biblical, Mythical or mine. (I'm using the character looks from Batman: The Animated Series, expect Poison Ivy and Scarecrow, because I prefer them in The New Batman Adventures.) BTW, this story ignores the comic "Batman and Robin Adventures - Annual Issue #1."
A/N: If you want more, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE review… Please?
***
"When you were very small, perhaps someone read to you the insipid - the word 'insipid' meaning 'not worth reading to someone' - of the Boy Who Cried Wolf. A very dull boy, you may remember, cried 'Wolf!' when there was no wolf, and the gullible villagers ran to rescue him only to find the whole thing was a joke. Then he cried 'Wolf!' when it wasn't a joke, and the villagers didn't come running, and the boy was eaten and the story, thank goodness, was over. The story's moral, of course, ought to be 'Never live somewhere where wolves are running around loose,' but whoever read you the story probably told you that the moral was not to lie. This is an absurd moral, for you and I both know that sometimes not only is it good to lie, it is necessary to lie."
- The Reptile Room, Lemony Snicket
***
Tech tossed and turned as the giggling crept back into the darkness. Tossing and turning… the sound finally built enough to frustrate him up. Slamming his pillow, he snarled something unintelligible and stared straight ahead into the wall, tired and blank… into the night.
Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he sensed something. Yes, The Corner of the Eye World. A place beyond our reality. Where you see or sense something, but when you physically turn your heard… it's gone. It never was. He, however, Jervis Tech, had the ability to occasionally see into this realm… and tonight was no exception…
He could feel someone watching him. Eyes burning into him. Slowly, he turned his head and saw it. A face staring at him through the tiny bars. Someone was watching him again… through the tiny barred window in his door… his padded cell… The eyes just STARED at him… stared…
He didn't care what his doctors said… they were there… they were really there…
***
The giggling broke into laughter off and on… night after night it went in maddening cycles… a pattern almost forming…
Crane was writing on his walls again. Sometimes pictures, sometimes words, sometimes meaningless lines… he was even keeping track of the days - sort of - an entire wall filled with millions of overlapping lines. Millions.
All he had to work with was sharp charcoal… tonight… he was drawing disturbing screaming faces… moaning, crying, screeching faces… Last night he'd drawn dark angels… it may have seemed cliché to outsiders, but inside… it felt right. Subconsciously comforting. If he actually thought about what he was doing, instead of just blankly working away, he would realize so… but it was all subconscious… all inside…
He hated laughter. It was the very opposite of screams. He'd loved laughter once, like most people… but not now… not ever again… No, now he drew pain… PAIN… subconscious and extreme…
***
"If I have to listen to ONE… MORE… SECOND of this…" Temple Fugate pulled his pillow over his head, seething. Second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour… his world was time… Arthur Reeves had been with them nearly two weeks now and he couldn't handle much more. Two weeks… 14 days… 336 hours-
"Somebody drug him NOW!" a voice suddenly screamed down the hall.
Sitting up, Temple rubbed the sleep from his eyes… slowly, quite groggy. He looked up and saw the Joker across the hall… curled up, hands over his ears… very frustrated… He loved laughter more than anyone, but this was too much…
***
Unable to sleep, Edward was working furiously through his puzzle book. Page after page flew by… page after page… he was so fast and focused tonight… in the zone…
Unexpectedly, his pencil snapped. Instantly, without missing a beat, he was gnawing it… attempting to sharpen it without even thinking. Hurting his hand, he froze - realizing how ridiculous it was. It wasn't hard to see why they wouldn't give him pens yet. His expression one of adorable realization, he turned and found Pamela Isley watching him from across the corridor. She was watering her roses and raising a beautiful, arched eyebrow at him…
How embarrassing. He was always embarrassing himself in front of her. She was so gorgeous and he was… he was… Edward. It sucked. He flushed slightly, giving her a sheepish smile, before turning back to his book. Flipping through pointlessly, knowing he couldn't resume, he waited uncomfortably for her eyes to leave.
Reeves was still laughing. He was always laughing. Well, not always… they were constantly testing antitoxins… he was often under… unfortunately, the whisper went he couldn't eat. He was wasting away, not long for this world.
At least things would quiet down… he could get some sleep…
Unexpectedly, Ivy's neighbour, Fugate, started knocking loudly. "Guard!… Guard!" Unfortunately, the young man down the hall couldn't hear him over the screeching laughter. Slamming his glass harder, Temple screamed, "GUARD!"
Annoyed, Edward slammed HIS glass, closer. "YOU THERE! GUARD!"
The young man turned to him, startled. "Ya?"
"Fugate wants you… and can I have another pencil?"
Reeves grew suddenly unbearable and Jack Napier's voice split the night - "BIGGEST MISTAKE I EVER MADE!"
Uneasy and confused, the guard's eyes were everywhere as he stepped back. Perturbed, Edward started to speak again, when Joker interrupted a second time - "JUST SHOOT HIM!"
"Why didn't you!?" Ed bitched back through the wall. "Damn straight this is your fault!"
If only he'd seen Pamela's small smile as she turned back to her flowers…
***
"I've SO had it…" a sour faced nurse rolled a noisy cart down the dim halls. She'd been muttering under her breath for ten minutes already regarding her job, her boss and above all, Councilman Arthur Reeves.
Caledon Smyth rounded the bend, taking her by surprise. Sans smile, the doctor turned and unlocked the door - "Excellent. You read my mind." Allowing her to enter first, he added, "Let's try that new batch from New Zealand."
"I've got Rome…" she was now filling a syringe with pale blue sedative.
"I thought we'd agreed, Kate, it-"
"-keeps him quiet longer, Doctor."
"The fever, damn it. The fever's going to kill him!"
"An unavoidable side effect and a risk I'm willing to take."
"Where-"
"Anyone and everyone is out aiding patients. Their getting rowdier every night! Staying up all hours of the night shouting back and forth. You wouldn't know - but it's a mess out there and it's all this guy's fault. They're very tired, very frustrated… they're downright ANGRY, Doctor. I don't know about you, but I don't like to make men like Jack Napier and Harvey Dent angry. I don't like to make women like Pamela Isley and Harley Quinn angry. You can't disrupt the therapy of all our other patients just for one man, Doctor. The needs of the many versus the needs of the few. We-"
"Alright, alright." Anything to shut her up. "Rome then… but…"
"-Australia tomorrow. Tonight, they need sleep." Anything to shut him up.
"New Zealand." He corrected. "Australia was that shipment Wednesday - you know, the rash…"
"Right, right…" she approached a laughing, crying Arthur. The light hurt… the light creeping in from the corridor… it burned his eyes… They didn't even bother to turn the lights on anymore… the dark… his eyes…
Day and night in darkness… needles… pain… his stomach hurt bad…
Caledon bent over him… saying something soft and soothing… He wasn't listening… he wanted the cloth… the cold cloth… he was feverish… his thoughts couldn't even focus anymore… he just wanted the cloth… he was burning… the light, the heat… burning…
***
"Grandma…"
The house was silent. The lighting unnatural. Confused, the dark haired toddler stumbled along… he just wanted milk pudding… Grandma was the giver of milk pudding…
"Grandma…"
He froze, staring at the open bedroom door. Someone was in the bed… but something was wrong… cautiously… he started forward, stumbling…
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the front door…
Turning, he toddled toward the sound. The adorable tot staggered into the large wooden door, dazed - an expression of baby blankness. The wide eyes, adorable open mouth… little hand… reaching up…
"Grandma…" he called through, though he expected a man of deep voice. The image of an axe flashed across his mind. A man with an axe come to help him find Grandma. Smiling with tiny baby giggles, he started to open the door - when an unexpected answer came…
"Yes, child, it's Po Po…"
He froze. 'Po Po' meant grandmother. It was her voice. No question… but… why was she outside? More importantly, why would she knock?
"Grandma?"
"Yes, child, it's Po Po…" Repeated, exactly the same. Exactly. Creepy.
He backed away slowly, uneasy. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
"Yes, child, it's Po Po…"
That was all it knew how to say. Whatever IT was…
Frightened, he knew he couldn't stay in… and he couldn't run out… Something lurked in the bedroom, yet something was waiting on the front step as well. Something murderous… something terrifying…
The image of a large, hunched gray wolf with blank… solid black… shiny… EVIL… eyes… flashed before his eyes… It was waiting to KILL him… to actually EAT him… eat him alive…
"Yes, child, it's Po Po…"
***
Screaming, the toddler hid under his comfiture in the nursery of lambs… For ages he'd stared at his lambs in near darkness… stared, watching for any sign of evil… any sign of IT… then, headlights from a passing car has slipped through his window, illuminating the walls with shadows - leaves, branches, etc. Shadows… The faces of the little lambs had turned momentary evil… frightening… dark…
Screeching in the warm carbon dioxide, the baby was too terrified to even beg for mommy… it just shrieked and shrieked…
The lights were suddenly on. Mommy was there. She peeled away the covers and took him in her arms, whispering soothingly. He wasn't listening. All he wanted was the cloth. The cold cloth. He had the fever again… it was back, she was telling someone… someone… a silhouette in the door… a shadow saying to burn it all…
Crying hysterically, he wouldn't listen - the cloth, the cloth…
No, he didn't want milk. No, he didn't want juice… he didn't want his teething ring… NO, NO, NO… Baabaa… yes, Baabaa would do… He forgot all about the cloth and settled deep down into his covers again, sleepy…
Lon Po Po wasn't real. It wasn't real. She promised.
***
Waking, the image of a red and black book - glowing eyes - crossed his tired mind. He would start giggling soon… very soon…
For now, though, he lay in the cool pitch, blinking… sleepy… He was so hungry… so very, very hungry… He could only eat when he was conscious and therefore, laughing - he choked. He choked every single time. He couldn't keep a thing down.
No matter what Smyth whispered… he knew he was dying… and it hurt bad…
They left him alone in the dark, day and night to die…
Soon they would return with the needles to make him sleep… sleep… They always made him sleep. Always. Why would he want to sleep? He had all eternity to sleep…
Chapter Three: Sleeping All Eternity
***
Disclaimer: The Batman places, characters and things in this fiction belong to Bob Kane, DC Comics and Warner Brothers. The sources are Batman I, Batman: The Animated Series, The New Batman Adventures series and Batman: Mask of the Phantasm. Everything else is either Historical, Biblical, Mythical or mine. (I'm using the character looks from Batman: The Animated Series, expect Poison Ivy and Scarecrow, because I prefer them in The New Batman Adventures.) BTW, this story ignores the comic "Batman and Robin Adventures - Annual Issue #1."
A/N: If you want more, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE review… Please?
***
"When you were very small, perhaps someone read to you the insipid - the word 'insipid' meaning 'not worth reading to someone' - of the Boy Who Cried Wolf. A very dull boy, you may remember, cried 'Wolf!' when there was no wolf, and the gullible villagers ran to rescue him only to find the whole thing was a joke. Then he cried 'Wolf!' when it wasn't a joke, and the villagers didn't come running, and the boy was eaten and the story, thank goodness, was over. The story's moral, of course, ought to be 'Never live somewhere where wolves are running around loose,' but whoever read you the story probably told you that the moral was not to lie. This is an absurd moral, for you and I both know that sometimes not only is it good to lie, it is necessary to lie."
- The Reptile Room, Lemony Snicket
***
Tech tossed and turned as the giggling crept back into the darkness. Tossing and turning… the sound finally built enough to frustrate him up. Slamming his pillow, he snarled something unintelligible and stared straight ahead into the wall, tired and blank… into the night.
Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he sensed something. Yes, The Corner of the Eye World. A place beyond our reality. Where you see or sense something, but when you physically turn your heard… it's gone. It never was. He, however, Jervis Tech, had the ability to occasionally see into this realm… and tonight was no exception…
He could feel someone watching him. Eyes burning into him. Slowly, he turned his head and saw it. A face staring at him through the tiny bars. Someone was watching him again… through the tiny barred window in his door… his padded cell… The eyes just STARED at him… stared…
He didn't care what his doctors said… they were there… they were really there…
***
The giggling broke into laughter off and on… night after night it went in maddening cycles… a pattern almost forming…
Crane was writing on his walls again. Sometimes pictures, sometimes words, sometimes meaningless lines… he was even keeping track of the days - sort of - an entire wall filled with millions of overlapping lines. Millions.
All he had to work with was sharp charcoal… tonight… he was drawing disturbing screaming faces… moaning, crying, screeching faces… Last night he'd drawn dark angels… it may have seemed cliché to outsiders, but inside… it felt right. Subconsciously comforting. If he actually thought about what he was doing, instead of just blankly working away, he would realize so… but it was all subconscious… all inside…
He hated laughter. It was the very opposite of screams. He'd loved laughter once, like most people… but not now… not ever again… No, now he drew pain… PAIN… subconscious and extreme…
***
"If I have to listen to ONE… MORE… SECOND of this…" Temple Fugate pulled his pillow over his head, seething. Second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour… his world was time… Arthur Reeves had been with them nearly two weeks now and he couldn't handle much more. Two weeks… 14 days… 336 hours-
"Somebody drug him NOW!" a voice suddenly screamed down the hall.
Sitting up, Temple rubbed the sleep from his eyes… slowly, quite groggy. He looked up and saw the Joker across the hall… curled up, hands over his ears… very frustrated… He loved laughter more than anyone, but this was too much…
***
Unable to sleep, Edward was working furiously through his puzzle book. Page after page flew by… page after page… he was so fast and focused tonight… in the zone…
Unexpectedly, his pencil snapped. Instantly, without missing a beat, he was gnawing it… attempting to sharpen it without even thinking. Hurting his hand, he froze - realizing how ridiculous it was. It wasn't hard to see why they wouldn't give him pens yet. His expression one of adorable realization, he turned and found Pamela Isley watching him from across the corridor. She was watering her roses and raising a beautiful, arched eyebrow at him…
How embarrassing. He was always embarrassing himself in front of her. She was so gorgeous and he was… he was… Edward. It sucked. He flushed slightly, giving her a sheepish smile, before turning back to his book. Flipping through pointlessly, knowing he couldn't resume, he waited uncomfortably for her eyes to leave.
Reeves was still laughing. He was always laughing. Well, not always… they were constantly testing antitoxins… he was often under… unfortunately, the whisper went he couldn't eat. He was wasting away, not long for this world.
At least things would quiet down… he could get some sleep…
Unexpectedly, Ivy's neighbour, Fugate, started knocking loudly. "Guard!… Guard!" Unfortunately, the young man down the hall couldn't hear him over the screeching laughter. Slamming his glass harder, Temple screamed, "GUARD!"
Annoyed, Edward slammed HIS glass, closer. "YOU THERE! GUARD!"
The young man turned to him, startled. "Ya?"
"Fugate wants you… and can I have another pencil?"
Reeves grew suddenly unbearable and Jack Napier's voice split the night - "BIGGEST MISTAKE I EVER MADE!"
Uneasy and confused, the guard's eyes were everywhere as he stepped back. Perturbed, Edward started to speak again, when Joker interrupted a second time - "JUST SHOOT HIM!"
"Why didn't you!?" Ed bitched back through the wall. "Damn straight this is your fault!"
If only he'd seen Pamela's small smile as she turned back to her flowers…
***
"I've SO had it…" a sour faced nurse rolled a noisy cart down the dim halls. She'd been muttering under her breath for ten minutes already regarding her job, her boss and above all, Councilman Arthur Reeves.
Caledon Smyth rounded the bend, taking her by surprise. Sans smile, the doctor turned and unlocked the door - "Excellent. You read my mind." Allowing her to enter first, he added, "Let's try that new batch from New Zealand."
"I've got Rome…" she was now filling a syringe with pale blue sedative.
"I thought we'd agreed, Kate, it-"
"-keeps him quiet longer, Doctor."
"The fever, damn it. The fever's going to kill him!"
"An unavoidable side effect and a risk I'm willing to take."
"Where-"
"Anyone and everyone is out aiding patients. Their getting rowdier every night! Staying up all hours of the night shouting back and forth. You wouldn't know - but it's a mess out there and it's all this guy's fault. They're very tired, very frustrated… they're downright ANGRY, Doctor. I don't know about you, but I don't like to make men like Jack Napier and Harvey Dent angry. I don't like to make women like Pamela Isley and Harley Quinn angry. You can't disrupt the therapy of all our other patients just for one man, Doctor. The needs of the many versus the needs of the few. We-"
"Alright, alright." Anything to shut her up. "Rome then… but…"
"-Australia tomorrow. Tonight, they need sleep." Anything to shut him up.
"New Zealand." He corrected. "Australia was that shipment Wednesday - you know, the rash…"
"Right, right…" she approached a laughing, crying Arthur. The light hurt… the light creeping in from the corridor… it burned his eyes… They didn't even bother to turn the lights on anymore… the dark… his eyes…
Day and night in darkness… needles… pain… his stomach hurt bad…
Caledon bent over him… saying something soft and soothing… He wasn't listening… he wanted the cloth… the cold cloth… he was feverish… his thoughts couldn't even focus anymore… he just wanted the cloth… he was burning… the light, the heat… burning…
***
"Grandma…"
The house was silent. The lighting unnatural. Confused, the dark haired toddler stumbled along… he just wanted milk pudding… Grandma was the giver of milk pudding…
"Grandma…"
He froze, staring at the open bedroom door. Someone was in the bed… but something was wrong… cautiously… he started forward, stumbling…
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the front door…
Turning, he toddled toward the sound. The adorable tot staggered into the large wooden door, dazed - an expression of baby blankness. The wide eyes, adorable open mouth… little hand… reaching up…
"Grandma…" he called through, though he expected a man of deep voice. The image of an axe flashed across his mind. A man with an axe come to help him find Grandma. Smiling with tiny baby giggles, he started to open the door - when an unexpected answer came…
"Yes, child, it's Po Po…"
He froze. 'Po Po' meant grandmother. It was her voice. No question… but… why was she outside? More importantly, why would she knock?
"Grandma?"
"Yes, child, it's Po Po…" Repeated, exactly the same. Exactly. Creepy.
He backed away slowly, uneasy. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
"Yes, child, it's Po Po…"
That was all it knew how to say. Whatever IT was…
Frightened, he knew he couldn't stay in… and he couldn't run out… Something lurked in the bedroom, yet something was waiting on the front step as well. Something murderous… something terrifying…
The image of a large, hunched gray wolf with blank… solid black… shiny… EVIL… eyes… flashed before his eyes… It was waiting to KILL him… to actually EAT him… eat him alive…
"Yes, child, it's Po Po…"
***
Screaming, the toddler hid under his comfiture in the nursery of lambs… For ages he'd stared at his lambs in near darkness… stared, watching for any sign of evil… any sign of IT… then, headlights from a passing car has slipped through his window, illuminating the walls with shadows - leaves, branches, etc. Shadows… The faces of the little lambs had turned momentary evil… frightening… dark…
Screeching in the warm carbon dioxide, the baby was too terrified to even beg for mommy… it just shrieked and shrieked…
The lights were suddenly on. Mommy was there. She peeled away the covers and took him in her arms, whispering soothingly. He wasn't listening. All he wanted was the cloth. The cold cloth. He had the fever again… it was back, she was telling someone… someone… a silhouette in the door… a shadow saying to burn it all…
Crying hysterically, he wouldn't listen - the cloth, the cloth…
No, he didn't want milk. No, he didn't want juice… he didn't want his teething ring… NO, NO, NO… Baabaa… yes, Baabaa would do… He forgot all about the cloth and settled deep down into his covers again, sleepy…
Lon Po Po wasn't real. It wasn't real. She promised.
***
Waking, the image of a red and black book - glowing eyes - crossed his tired mind. He would start giggling soon… very soon…
For now, though, he lay in the cool pitch, blinking… sleepy… He was so hungry… so very, very hungry… He could only eat when he was conscious and therefore, laughing - he choked. He choked every single time. He couldn't keep a thing down.
No matter what Smyth whispered… he knew he was dying… and it hurt bad…
They left him alone in the dark, day and night to die…
Soon they would return with the needles to make him sleep… sleep… They always made him sleep. Always. Why would he want to sleep? He had all eternity to sleep…