Green Mother pt 6
They were calling it a relapse, she was calling it bullshit. Bullshit so foul that she would not even risk her hardiest plants with the manure.
How was it her fault that the mousy little worm they hired couldn't handle a minor outburst from a mental patient? As much as hated the label it what she was, a mental patient. So ruled by the city of Gotham as "Suffering from such a devastating mental disorder that she was not responsible for her actions". Or, to be less polite, she was crazy and in need of some serious help.
And while she may disagree with the description she could not deny that it held some truth. Enough that she was willing to listen to all the quacks and "experts" as they tried to treat her condition, as if she were diseased. Still, she listened to them. More now that she had something to get better for.
Someone to get better for.
And some little slip of a girl who had no right to be working in a mental hospital, much less one for the criminally insane, was about to ruin it all for her!
She was going to lodge a complaint! A formal grievance! Just as soon as they let her talk to someone who didn't think she was in the wrong!
Pamela held in another scream. Screaming wasn't going to help her, neither was punching the walls or cussing out the doctor's when they didn't let her explain.
All that got her was another day of confinement in her new padded little room where she "couldn't harm herself or others". Instead, she paced across the room, over and over again, completely ignoring the trashy romance novel they left in there for her. Like she'd read that garbage.
Back and forth she went, nibbling at her nails as she thought of how Christopher was taking the news. They were just starting to connect and this, this was going to taint all the progress they had made!
Would he even want to see her again?
They kept her there for a day already. Worse she was allowed no visitors until they deemed her "better". Again, what kind of bullshit was that?
If she didn't care so much about keeping every possible bridge unburnt she would have broken out already. It would have been easy too. She could feel the trees lining the gates of Arkham so clearly from her new cell. All it would take was the smallest of nudges, the simplest of coos, and the babies would come reaching for her.
Their roots breaching windows, their roots crumbling foundation, buds blooming down the throats of anyone who got in her way. It would be so easy, so quick. But she was better than that, above that. Or so she told herself and hoped Christopher believed.
A knock came to the door, soft and almost hesitant. Pamela gave a snort, they were still scared of her. Idiots, if she wanted to hurt them she would have done it already.
"Miss Isley? Are you awake?" A doctor asked needlessly, peeking in through the barred and glassed window.
"Doctor," She snapped back in response. She earned that title and if they were going to call her anything then it should be by that. Not that the fool seemed to notice her correction, if anything he seemed to think she was simply addressing him.
"You, uh, you have a visitor. The director said it was ok if you want to see him." The man's eyes shifted back down the hall, not that Pamela really noticed. Instead, she only took note of the lightness blooming in her chest.
There were precious few on her visitor list and fewer who had the connections needed to see her. Her clever boy!
"Yes, of course!" She answered quickly, already turning her back to the door, her hands offered to the food slot.
"I, um, I do not believe that handcuffs will be needed." Odd, they were needed all the other times her son came to visit her. But she was not going to look this gift horse in its mouth.
The magnetic and mechanical locks undone she followed the doctor and security detail down the hall. There was a bit of a hop in her step that slowly started the further they got away from the cell. What was she going to say to him? How was she going to explain herself? The "I heard voices in pain" excuse rarely receives desirable results.
The visitor's room they took her to was one of the more private ones, more secure. A place for politicians to talk to their children without arousing the press's attention… or for the police to interrogate the more dangerous occupants.
And waiting for her inside was a familiar pair of crystal blue eyes. Only they were attached to a face void of her features. A face so much like her son's it hurt to look at him.
"Doctor Isley?" Superman started, rising from her chair as she entered and piercing her with his gaze. "I think we need to talk."
An:
So, I did this chapter because of the voter request on my snips thread on Spacebattles but I found it difficult for a number of reasons. One of my niches as a writer seems to be "super powered parents/family" but… 2020 sucks and I lost one of my great inspirations on what a parent should be. He was a great man and as of right now I'm having trouble thinking of family scenes.
I was going to officially start a when I restarted my snip thread but for now I have a different request, if you have the dollars to spare please donate to Diabetes Charity of your choice (American Diabetes Association or JDRF are good choices). And spend time with family while you have the chance.
ANYWAY, I know this was short but I'm honestly not sure where to go with this series. I'm debating going complete AU with a heavy base in Young Justice so I have a bit more freedom and because I haven't seen anything passed S2… Which honestly shouldn't be a problem if I keep based around S1 but clips from the Harley Quinn show have messed with my headcanon of Ivy.