Camilla crossed the bridge to the Narrows, where she was invited to attend her friend Angie's bachelorette party. She still wondered why her friend wanted to get married at such a dark time – there's been murmurs of a bat man on the loose – but love is love. If you're a hopeless romantic, you'd go through with your wedding even if the entire neighbourhood was on fire. She snorted at the thought. True love was a hoax, but far be it from her to spoil her friend's fun. She parked her car by the street, stepping out and hugging her bag closer to herself. The Narrows always creeped her out, especially at night. Camilla ended up ringing the doorbell a couple times, glancing around for any strange or suspicious people, but all was quiet. Maybe a little too quiet. Shivers crept up her arms and she was grateful when Angie opened the door and let her in.
"Milla!" she cried, hugging her tightly. "So good to see you."
"Of course, I wouldn't miss this," Camilla said, hugging her back. Just as she was about to disappear inside, she noticed a pair of hooligans descending on her car. She jumped out of Angie's hug and ran down the stairs. "HEY!" she yelled, waving her fist. "Get away from my car!" They started and ran off, leaving an annoyed Camilla standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She sighed, starting to go back inside for the party, but was cut off by the manhole in the middle of the sidewalk exploding. Both her and Angie screamed, darting out of its vicinity. As far as Camilla could see, every single manhole in the Narrows was exploding with water vapour.
The vapour filled the air, covering the whole area in a dark, foggy cloud. Her lungs constricted and she coughed, the smell of the vapour filling her nose. She keeled over, clutching her abdomen, her head beginning to throb. The fog was so thick she couldn't even see Angie anymore and she stumbled blindly down the street, trying to find her car or some other way out. Her head began to spin, and she heard yelling. All around her people yelled. The air was thick with panic. Someone ran by, shoving Camilla out of the way. She stumbled back, trying to make sense of her surroundings. A woman ran by, her face looked like that of a horrific rotting corpse. Camilla screamed, clutching her head. She felt like she was going insane. In the chaos, someone grabbed her. The face was blurry and just as horrifying as the last and Camilla shook from fear. "Let me go!" she yelled, fighting against them.
"Camilla…stop! It's…me!" The voice was muffled and far away, but recognizable. It was Rachel Dawes'. Camila was confused. Why was Rachel here? "You…were…drugged…" She tried to make out what they were saying, but she was slowly losing her ability to function. "Stay with me!" Camilla drooped, collapsing against her, the world tilting before going black.
- Later -
Breathe in. Breathe out. The blurry world came into focus. Breathe in. People were talking indistinctly.
Camilla lay on the hospital bed, an oxygen mask firmly placed over her nose and mouth. At the door of her room, a pair of people were talking animatedly, but she was too tired to eavesdrop. She placed a hand on her forehead, where she had the worst headache of her life. Rachel and Angie stood over her, with matching expressions of concern. Like Camilla, Angie was also hooked up to a machine, but looked almost normal.
"Is she going to be okay?" Angie asked the head nurse, placing a hand on Camilla's. It was covered with cables.
"She'll be fine," the nurse replied. "The antidote took effect quickly."
Antidote? Rachel watched her carefully. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Like…shit."
Rachel smiled. "I know how you feel. It'll go away after a little bit, don't worry."
Camilla nodded weakly as a man walked into her room, exchanging words with the nurse. Rachel glanced up at him. "Officer Gordon," she greeted him, with a nod.
Officer Gordon nodded back, turning to Camilla. "And how are you doing?" he asked, looking down at her with kind eyes.
She shrugged, apathetic. "As well as can be expected. Is there something you need, Officer?"
"I'm afraid so." He pulled up a chair and sat. "You were in the Narrows the night of the incident, correct?" he asked, pulling out a notepad from the folds of his coat.
Camilla nodded. "Yes."
"Did you see anything out of the ordinary?" he asked, gently. "Anything or anyone you wouldn't normally see?"
She shut her eyes, trying to recall that evening. It felt like a lifetime ago. She was also distracted by his moustache. It was a nice moustache. She shook herself off. "I'm sorry, officer," she replied, apologetically, reopening her eyes. "All I remember was stumbling around until Rachel found me. I didn't see anyone."
Officer Gordon shook his head. "Alright," he said, with a smile. "Thank you for your cooperation." He stood and put away his notepad. "All the best on your recovery."
Camilla gave him a weak wave as he left the room, before turning to Rachel for answers. "What was that about?" she asked, quietly.
"During the chaos, they released a bunch of criminals into the city," Rachel explained, making sure no one overheard them.
"Criminals?" Camilla repeated, in disbelief.
"High-risk criminals," Rachel confirmed. "Rapists, murderers, all released from Dr. Crane's insane asylum. They're still trying to find most of them." She looked away darkly.
"We can only hope the police will be able to catch them."
"I hope so, too." Rachel squeezed her hand. "Now, get some rest."
- 3 Weeks Later -
Before she knew it, Camilla was back on her feet and back to work. Gabe had come to visit her once, but they just argued again, so he stopped coming. She walked down Main Street toward the hospital, dressed in her scrubs and checked her phone. Gabe had sent her a text message, simply reading: At work. Be home late. Camilla stopped in the middle of the street. Work? What work? As far as she was concerned, her husband didn't have a job. A small part of her was pleased. At least now he'll be pulling his weight. A group of police officers crowded around a police car, having an animated discussion over a box of doughnuts. Officer Gordon spotted her and nodded in acknowledgement, which she gladly returned.
Her fellow nurses were overjoyed when she walked into the break room at the hospital. "Thank goodness you're alright!" Kathy, one of the younger nurses, cried, giving her a bear hug.
Camilla squirmed. "Yeah, I'm fine," she wheezed. Kathy was a really tight hugger – she could hardly breathe. "The antidote worked like a charm."
"What even was that?" Kathy wondered, letting her go.
Taking a deep breath, Camilla pondered the question. "It seemed to be some sort of inhalable hallucinogenic drug," she explained. "How it got in Gotham's water supply, I have no idea."
Angie walked in and Camilla instantly felt guilty. "Angie…" she started, uncrossing her arms. "Your party."
"Milla, don't worry about it," Angie replied, taking her by the hands and squeezing them. "I'm just glad you're okay."
Camilla smiled gratefully, still guilty but feeling slightly better after the reassurance. "I just… I knew how special this was for you." She looked away sadly. "You only get married once."
"Really, Milla," Angie insisted. "It's fine." The two nurses smiled at each other, before Nurse Moore barged in and directed them back to work.
