"Master Wayne—"

"I mean, Alfred, you should've seen the way she looked at me. If looks could kill…"

Alfred sighed. "Master Wayne—"

"I knew that punch to the face would have done some damage…but she went nuts Alfred! I knew that girl had a few screws loose…"

Alfred sat in silence, watching Bruce Wayne pace before the hearth of the fireplace. He was obviously speaking to the butler, but would let the man have a word in, so Alfred kept quiet until Bruce calmed down.

"Master Wayne, do not take her threats personally. She is locked away in Arkham now, besides, I thought you said she'd be quite easy to outdo, seeing she is a 'girl'."

Bruce shrugged, a frown creasing his forehead, and said, "Alfred, I know she's not a big threat. Heck, she didn't start freaking out until the end of the hearing. But something about her…she just…she was so…heartless."

"Well, you must remember what she has been through. You have suffered greatly for your losses, but look at how you overcame them. She, however, has taken a different route than you have," Alfred smirked. He lifted a china cup and placed it on a small plate, handing it to Bruce. "You did your job, Master Wayne. How are we to argue with that?"

Bruce slid into his couch cushion, gripping the cup in his hands. What was he thinking…he was Batman, archenemy of criminals throughout Gotham. She was just a lunatic with hollow threats. He had been able to evade death twice at her hands. She was taken out with a punch.

But something still felt wrong. The look she gave him from inside the interrogation room. The smiles and sneers she had when he passed by or looked at her. She knew something…something more than she was letting on. That's what made Bruce most uncomfortable.

What was she hiding?

"More tea, sir?"

"No thanks Alfred. I…uh…I'm gonna head off to patrol the streets now."

"So early?"

"I need to clear my head a bit."

Weeks passed on, the buzz of the De Soto trial dwindling to odd gossip here and there. People were far more interested in the sightings of Batman, as well as the increase of criminals in Arkham and Blackgate Penitentiary. The city was growing more comfortable to the situations at hand, now that police and other law enforcement agencies got a helping hand with the mysterious Dark Knight. Sure, there was still a great panic in the city once something extreme happened, but even so, people were at ease.

That is, except one.

Adriana was holed away in Arkham, sitting to rot in a dark, cold chamber. The first few days were tolerable. She ate regularly, slept soundly, never once complained. But as the days grew, she realized that Arkham was no walk in the park. She had become disillusioned after weeks of no one bothering to contact her. Friends, family, all seemed to have erased her from their minds.

The lights in her chamber seemed to flicker wildly, sending shadows dancing in a frightening craze along the walls. Eventually all but one burnt out, so the room would either be in total darkness for a few hours, or the random bursts of light would sting at her eyes.

Her fair appearance grew sickly and pale, and she soon deterred from eating anything for days on end. Adriana's spirits were low, and with those horrible feelings came terrifying, heart-stopping dreams. She lost sleep sometimes because of the fear they instilled in her.

She was practically unrecognizable after her stay. Her curled brown locks were limp and hung listlessly around her face. Her moss green eyes were once again empty, always watery with unshed tears. The guards and attendants of the asylum even had the gall to wrap her up in a straightjacket…'for her safety' they told her. But she wasn't safe, not even here.

She could hear the guards murmur as they passed her cell, chuckling and nudging at each other. She always had her back to the door, not bearing the thought of having someone see her in such a state. Thus, the guards would mock or catcall, as if she were just ignoring or playing hard to get. What she was really doing was daydreaming about tearing off the straightjacket and strangling those pigs outside.

Some had even threatened her life. They dared her to retaliate, saying they could do far more damage than she could. But she kept silent. She had learned not to talk back to them from the first day, when one of the guards was making sure she carried nothing life threatening with her. Just to add insult to injury, the guard demanded Adriana remove her wedding ring. She refused adamantly, but the guard served her one good belt across the face and got the jewelry he wanted, with a little prying from her ring-finger.

Now, she never spoke a word. Not one. If they asked a question, all they received was silence. She got in a lot of trouble for her stubbornness, but she felt it was well worth the trouble.

She was, however, always on edge. The faint squeak of a person walking by sent her heart racing. Every time a door was slammed or a loud noise took her by surprised, it was a wonder she didn't die of a heart attack on the spot. She had become so used to isolation that her senses reached alarming heights. She could see amazingly well, although her eyes were quite sensitive to light, her hearing was impeccable (she could even hear guards conversing halfway down the hall through the thick iron door), and smell and taste were even peaked. She was always near the point of being sick because of the awful smell of bleach, sanitizer, and moldy, grimy, garbage-like scents.

She longed to be rid of her restraints. She felt the warm, thick fabric every hour of every day, itchy and humid. The material burned as it rubbed her sensitive skin, she wasn't used to it. The only relief she had was leaning against the grime-covered walls, pressing her cheek against the cool tiles. So far, her life had been so bleak, she felt as if going into a regular prison to face her penalty would have been a lot better than this torture.

It was one of these evenings that she sat on the floor, her back to the cell door, contemplating as she watched a small spider climb up before her face, struggling to grip to the slick tile. Adriana could hear the guard approaching down the corridor and swallowed hard, praying that he walked past her cell. But there was a squeak of rubber against tile outside her cell. He had stopped. The fluorescent light flickered wildly, adding to the fear she already harbored. She heard the massive door clatter and heard footsteps. The guard evidently stopped directly behind her and let out a gruff noise to make his presence known.

"Got somthin' here for ya."

Adriana closed her eyes, silently wishing he'd leave.

"Hey! I'm talkin' to ya! Get up!"

She felt a rough hand entwine around her hair and yank upwards, hard. She barely let out a sound as she was thrown on the hard cot, staring at the wall she was just pulled away from. She cast her eyes to the floor and trembled. She couldn't see the face of the guard, but she knew by his voice exactly who it was. His name was Rick, Rick McHallahan. He was one of the worst guards there. Always hassling her, harassing her any chance he could get. She loathed him above anyone else in the asylum.

She waited patiently for him to begin his tirade of insults, incessant flirting, or all around pig-headed comments. But none came. He shoved something beneath her nose.

"Letter for ya."

Adriana glanced at the envelope. It had only her name written. No addresses whatsoever. The guard released her restraints and took a few steps back, dropping the letter onto her lap.

Adriana hesitated. No one had dared write to her. Not her sister, not her friends; no one cared for her. So who in their right mind was trying to contact her?

"Hey, I got offa my chair to get ya that letter. Read it or I send it to the shredder."

Adriana picked up the letter timidly, not wanting to make the man angrier still, and struggled to open the envelope. She finally grew frustrated and tore off the top of the envelope and tossed it to the floor. She ripped open the letter anxiously, tearing it in several places as she unfolded the creases. Finally the letter lay flat on her lap. There wasn't much writing on it, much to her dismay.

It read:

Dear Adriana,

I hope you are still well enough to read this letter. Arkham is notorious for draining the sanity and sense of any person unlucky enough to enter into its hallowed halls. I'm writing in order to give you a fair heads-up, for I will be stopping by the asylum to check up on you within the next few days. I have important matters to discuss with you.

—Jonathan Crane

Adriana stared at the writing. Jonathan Crane. Of all people…Doctor Jonathan Crane is the one who wants to talk to her. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She was thankful, even a little anxious, for any contact from someone other than those inept guards she was forced to see…but she still held a deep resentment for the man that caused her this terrible sentence.

She didn't have time to react when a burly hand grabbed at the note and snatched it from her tremulous fingers. She looked up, her mouth open for a retort, but immediately shut it when Rick gave her a dark look. The guard's eyes scanned the paper and he allowed a small grin to curl his features.

"Doctor Crane comin' back for a visit, eh? I hope he's happy the way we've been takin' care of his prized patient…"

Adriana blinked, frowning slightly. Rick McHallahan grinned wider and crumpled the paper in his fist. "You look surprised, Sweetie. Didn't know that Crane considered you his little 'pet project'? Oh you ain't never seen him around here…he rarely comes around ever since he broke outta here. Can't blame him. I'd hate being in his position too. Owner of Arkham, then an inmate as well."

Adriana drew her eyebrows upwards in a sort of pathetic look. Rick snorted and rolled his eyes. "Don't know what the heck he wants with you. You look more like a drowned rat every day I see ya." And thus began a string of insults that Rick loved to throw at the girl, insults that were sometimes punctuated with masses of cursing and spitting on the ground. Adriana looked down solemnly and waited until the man's loud voice softened into a harsh growl once more. He tossed the wad of paper in his hands at the young lady and snickered.

"Maybe Crane's lonely up in that cabin over yonder. Perhaps he just keeps you here just for kicks until you're sane enough to go with him."

Adriana's eyes narrowed as the man clearly saw her expression and roared with laughter.

"Shame though…having to loose a little gem like you to the likes of him. You know, I'd miss you very much." She felt his finger tracing down her jaw and he gave a little chuckle. Adriana felt a sudden rage engulf her mind. Without thinking, she brought the heel of her palm up, striking the guard in the nose and listening to the loud crack that came from it.

He stumbled back, howling and gripping his injured nose and swore profusely at the young lady. Adriana simply smiled and sat on the cot, rather enjoying his pain as blood trickled through his fingers. Rick's dark eyes narrowed into a glare. He stood, storming towards her, his fingers curled.

"You little…you think this is funny? Huh?" Adriana's smile dropped as the man wrapped his large hands around her small neck easily. She gasped, flailing around for air, but the man only held tighter. He smiled, an animalistic look coming over him, and leaned dangerously close to her. "Look who's winning now…" He sneered, blood dripping down his chin and onto Adriana's straightjacket. She shook her head, things growing blurry, but felt it was no use. Three times she had succumbed to some sort of unconsciousness…Crane's fear gas, Bruce's punch to the head, and now this.

But something happened. Something that made Rick McHallahan drop Adriana back onto her cot. She blinked, looking over at the door, and gave a soft squeak. Doctor Crane stood in the doorway, his arms folded, and a dark look on his face.

"Rick, what are you doing?"

"Nothin. The little slu—" he caught a warning glare from Crane and refrained from this term as he continued, "the patient broke my nose."

"Well, someone around here finally got to it. Too bad it wasn't me." Crane muttered and came between the girl and the guard. "Now, that doesn't mean you can strangle her, does it?"

"No."

"No, sir. You're still under my jurisdiction, McHallahan. I may have dragged your butt out of the penitentiary and gave you freedom, but you still are not allowed to touch my patients. Ever."

Adriana saw Rick turn a bright shade of crimson, but he bit his tongue and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Get Adriana a fresh uniform. Now."

Rick hesitated before stamping off, cursing beneath his breath. Crane turned on his heels and smirked at Adriana as if the previous argument had never happened.

"I see you enjoy abusing my guards, Adriana. But that's good, I wouldn't want them taking advantage of your frail state and trying to hurt you."

She was silent, curled onto the cot, watching him intently. Crane brushed away some of her hair and raised an eyebrow. "Although, it seems they already have. I'll have to take that up with them myself. Meanwhile, I wish to see you in my office. Once Rick brings you your uniform, you are to be escorted to the restroom, change into the new outfit, and one of the guards will bring you up. Sound good?"

Adriana looked away, her lips pursed. She still refused to speak, even to Crane.

Jonathan looked towards the doorway as Rick reemerged and held out a rather drab assortment of clothing.

"Ah. Good. Here you are, Adriana. Rick, bring her to the bathroom. And I swear if hear that you stuck your head in there while she's dressing, I will kill you." Adriana looked up, startled. His usually soft, if not cruel, voice was harsh and serious. Even Rick nodded madly, not daring provoke the wiry young psychiatrist even though he could clearly overpower him with a single blow.

"Then, you will bring her up to me. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

Crane gave a quick nod to Adriana and glided out the door. Rick cast a horrible glare at the girl as he helped her off the cot and to her feet so she could try to shuffle to the bathroom behind him.

"Lucky Crane got here early…" he seethed, but Adriana was off in her own world. What on earth did Doctor Crane want with her? Did he really own this place? If so…why hadn't he said anything and why would he be so secretive about his plans?