Blink, pause, blink, blink, pause.
Jason turned resolutely away from that damned blinking light, closing his eyes instead on the tiny device he'd painstakingly built to ensure he'd never have to stare at that fucking thing again. Actually, he might just take some time out to but a whole inventories worth of cameras just to set them up and blow them to hell when this was all over.
Blankets, in Jason's modest opinion were useful in only three situations, treating hypothermia, escaping from prisons that actually had windows he could climb through, and strangling people when no other weapon was available. His current plan had no need for any of those things, and he'd found two more uses for the one he never actually slept under – if he was dying again, it wasn't going to be because he had a scratchy blanket wrapped around his legs and couldn't get off his ass to defend himself okay – to hide the Frankenstein's monster of cell phone part he'd lifted off the guards.
See, he could be non-violent if he wanted to. There was a giddy edge to his thoughts, and he wasn't quite sure if it was adrenaline, or the drugs in his water, then again he was pretty sure they'd put adrenaline on his water so, same difference, right?
His hands, though much softer than they'd been months ago were still calloused enough that the mild shocks didn't bother him as much as they could have, but that didn't make him long for the roles of insulation tape he'd spotted on one of his walks to the commons.
The last wire was twisted in place with a light 'zap' and he carefully insulated the low current with what was left of the screen protectors. He gave the device one last inspection, with no opportunities for testing there was no way to be absolutely sure it would work until he actually put the thing to use, but he could at least make sure everything was in place.
He placed the device the next time he was taken to the commons area.
For a few minutes back in his cell, he let his blood rush, adrenaline working through his system, speeding up his breathing and heart rate. His whole body felt flushed, almost feverish while his mind pushed through the possibilities, everything that could go wrong if he didn't time things just right, or let himself slip too far under for the triggers to pull him back out.
Then he lay back, and stopped.
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Steph strolled through Arkham, chewing on a rope of taffy while she rolled the warm thermos around in her other hand.
As usual, the halls were quiet but for the occasional groan or giggle and a little chatter drifting down from the night staff – yikes that one was kind of loud – of the inmates. She bypassed the empty help desk without a glance and made right for the guard station on the far wall.
Depending in who was on duty and how much she was carrying the guards would usually let her walk on through without any more than a curt wave. Baker was the only one she ever found actually watching the cameras when she got nearer the station with the other two watching some movie on a smaller laptop.
She grimaced as she made for the door. While she could understand the guys not wanting to spend seven straight hours watching people sleep – it took a few points off their creep factor actually – it made her a little uncomfortable that people like the Joker could do pretty much whatever they wanted after lights out if they were quiet enough about it.
With a shrug, she decided that so long as there was 'someone' watching the cameras it wasn't really that big of a risk, there was only so much the bad guys could do when they couldn't see, right?
The door didn't open when she gave it a tug, and it was only then the guards looked up from their perspective screens.
"Sorry." Baker jerked upward his eyes flickering nervously between her and the screen. He held up his hands as he eventually decided on her and got up from his seat to step outside of the little station and approach her. "Doctor Arkham says we can't let you through tonight."
"Yeah, and what's it this time?" Steph spun in her heel to give the guy the full brunt of her annoyed gaze. He immediately backed up, raising his hands higher.
"S-sorry. It's not, I can't…"
Maybe full annoyance was a bit much, Steph toned it down relaxing her posture a little, Bakers shyness was almost endearing most of the time, but it got a bit much sometimes. God she hoped the guy was never on duty when one of the crazies were staging a breakout.
"Fine, don't worry about it, I'll just go talk to Doctor Arkham myself." Thanks to extensive drilling in case of emergencies, Steph knew the layout of the building well enough to locate the director's office within minutes, ignoring the cries of the guards chasing after her all the way.
Somehow the halls got creepier the closer she got, and she was almost glad for the guards chasing after her, ducking around their attempts at grabbing her was a nice distraction, almost because it was both annoying, and she was sure it was king up more than a few people who were better off sleeping.
Before she's made it to the office, or had a chance to doubt the Doctor being in at four in the morning, she nearly had a heart attack when his skeletal face popped up in her field of vision.
She but back a startles curse and clasped her hands tightly behind her back to keep from crashing both of them into his bony jaw. Damn the guy was creepy looking, like Skeltor on a high calorie diet. When he spoke she was actually a surprised he didn't have Skeletor's high pitched voice.
"Batgirl?" Instead his voice was of a rich timber, almost grandfatherly in the way words rolled off his tongue. "You've arrived much earlier than expected."
"Crime doesn't follow a schedule." Steph said, dusting of her Barbara voice, her college however did have a schedule and she needed the extra sleep is she was going to get a passing grade, but that didn't sound nearly as impressive okay. "What are you trying to stall for?"
"Nothing." The Doctor gasped, his eyebrows meeting the bridge of his nose, he took a second to collect himself and rested his spindly fingers on Steph's shoulder – thank goodness for the training that helped her repress that shudder – and began steering her away from the offices. "You're 'brother' is not in his room and I was merely trying to prevent you from wasting any more time than was necessary searching for him."
"Why isn't he in his cell?" Steph looked around, a little uneasy about the path they were taking, as far as she knew the only thing down that way was surgery, and that wasn't a good thing in any of the scenarios playing through her mind. "What happened?"
"Were not sure." Arkham pushed open a door and waved her inside.
Only one bed out of all the rows was occupied, and Steph almost checked to make sure Poison Ivy hadn't gotten out when she felt something constricting around her chest as she hurried to the bed.
Jason's skin was pale, his chest moving so little with each breath that she looked over the EKG keeping track of his sluggish heartbeat to make sure it was working right. The creases that marred his face even in sleep, were smoothed over, erasing years he hadn't lived from his sunken face.
Behind her Arkham cleared his throat and the hand hovering over his sleeping face withdrew to her chest as though she'd been burned.
"What's wrong with him?" Steph whispered, an inexplicable tremble running through the words. 'What did you do to him?' She wanted to demand, though she knew the Doctor couldn't have had anything to do with it."
"Sudden comas aren't unheard of in patients with his volatile condition." Arkham said gently. "I'll give you some time, then I'd like you to come to my office where we can discuss any further treatment in private."
"Okay." Steph said, dropping into the chair the Doctor slid next to the bedside, right then she would have given anything to make the man leave so she could look Jason over herself. With a slow nod, Arkham left, shutting the door behind him, Steph counted the retreating footsteps till they faded away, then leaped to his feet.
There were no puncture marks on his pale – god had he always been that pale – skin, and she made a mental note to ask Barbara for the camera footage from his cell, so she could review it herself. A penlight to his eyes told her nothing more than that he wasn't aware or concussed, but she checked his scalp for any bruises or, even worse, stitches. His pulse was so low she had to practically cut off his circulation just to feel the smallest trace of it.
"Jason." She whispered the name in his ear. "Jay come on, if this is your idea of a joke its really funny, but you've gotta stop now."
Unsurprisingly, Jason made no reply.
"My cake wasn't bad enough to make you this sick you ass." She ran her hands along the pads of his calloused fingers, they were cold, worryingly so, with a frown, Steph tucked both his hands under the thin blanket and pulled it up to his chin for good measure, hiding the thermos of tea in the crook of his neck.
The EKG gave another sluggish beep.
"I really wanted to tell you more about this guy in my chem class, guy's convinced I'm playing hard to guess." She leaned in close, ignoring the sharp chemical smell clinging to the comatose boy. "You now, he's almost as much of an ass as you." She gave each corner of the room a quick once over and slowly brought her hand up to brush away some of the longer hairs clinging to his forehead.
Coma, huh? He'd been fine during her last visit, knew where Bane was holed up and cut out a few extra steps in their investigation while he sipped on tea and only called it horrible once. She'd put honey in the batch she'd hidden under his blankets, just in case he woke up thirsty and didn't want the Asylums gross tasting water.
"It'll really suck if you never wake up Hood, just saying."
She wasn't going to be one of those weird people that watched people sleep, so she got up and, keeping her arms resolutely at her side, she marched out of the room and followed the waiting guard to Doctor Arkham's office.
"Just out of curiosity." She said, planting her feet firmly in front of the desk and folding her arms. "Did a tall woman with dark hair and maybe a couple ninjas show up between now and my last visit?"
"I assure you my staff would never allow such an… unorthodox party near my patients."
Steph blinked her mouth hanging a little even when tapped her index fingers at her thighs to make sure that, yep, she was still dressed as a giant bat and allowed in almost whenever she pleased. Either Arkham was very weird about what he considered 'unorthodox', or he and his staff were a bunch of liars. Going by the number of breakout the place had had in the last year alone, and visual proof that Talia had been allowed in at least twice Steph was willing to bet it was the latter.
"Yeah, okay." She leaned against the wall. "Now what about Hood's treatment?"
"I assume you want your brother to break free of his psychosis, young lady?"
"Sure I do." Steph said, though she wasn't really sure what breaking free of his psychosis would mean for Jason, would he stop thinking bringing up the heads in a bag thing was funny? Read books like a normal person instead of scribbling all over them? It'd mean he wouldn't need to stay in the asylum, and that was good, right?
"I'll be frank, your brother is very ill, and feeding his delusions is doing him no favors. If we are to have any hope of helping him separate reality from the fictional world he's created, we will need to know the reality ourselves." He slid a piece of paper across the table.
Stepping forward, Steph picked it up, her eyes widening as she read through it. She didn't know which part of Gotham Jason had grown up in, let alone what highschool he'd attended.
"You have all this information, don't you?"
"You can't honestly expect us to believe his name is John Doe." He leaned back, linking his fingers beneath his chin. "After some recent outburst I have recently taken it upon myself to treat him personally, and I'm afraid I cannot secure my professional integrity if I were to go in without knowing all the facts. It would be extremely unfortunate if he were to take ill from something so small as a peanut allergy, wouldn't it?"
Dick would have told the cops about things like that when he handed Jason over, if Dick even knew. Dam it, what if Jason's sudden coma really was because he'd been fed something he was allergic to? She'd have to ask Bruce, he would have picked up on anything like that back when Jason had been Robin.
"I don't 'think' he had any allergies." Steph ignored the pen he pushed towards her and folded up the paper, stashing it away in her utility belt, there was no way she could give up Jason's identity as a legally dead fifteen year old, but the other stuff…" I'll have to ask our Mom about it though, just to be sure."
Arkham bobbed his head once and retrieved his pen. "That 'would' be best. My contact information id on the form, if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. You have my word any and all communications will be kept strictly between us, patient-doctor confidentiality will not be breached in any form."
"What exactly is wrong with him?" Steph couldn't help but ask. "You know, his 'disorder'?" 'Crazy, was all she could get out of the other bats when she asked, but no one knew like a Gothamite just how many flavors of crazy there were.
"He's psychotic, Miss 'Doe'." Steph doubted he could have put much more bite into the name if he'd tried. "A pathological liar, incapable of forming complex bonds, manipulative, excessively paranoid enough to believe my staff are trying to poison him, has delusions of grandeur, overly aggressive. If he had better control of his emotions I'd have pinned him as a sociopath."
"Huh." Steph shrugged, and nodded as she turned to leave. "I'll look over the form Doctor Arkham."
She stopped by Jason's bed before she went back home, someone had untucked his arms and they were freezing again.
"I think you're really just a smart-ass, grumpy, emotional, drama queen." She leaned in close, gently pulling up the blanket again. "I'll see you again tomorrow and you'd better be awake or I'm bringing Blackbat to shake you until you are."
.
.
.
The world was a foggy expanse of nothing, he didn't see anything, or hear anything, or even really think beyond the barest one-word terms.
Cold.
Then confined.
Warm.
Somewhere deep within the clouds of his minds, so far under that even he would never know he'd felt it, there was the term: guilt.
.
.
.
Patrolling with Cass had always been fun. Back when Steph had been Spoiler and Cass had been Batgirl, before the war games and Blackmask and of those petty fights with Tim. It had been fun then, and with the strain their new titles put on their relationship, times when Cass showed up back in Gotham had always been fun.
Only, the past few days had not been fun. If anything they'd been only a little less stressful than patrols without Cass. She just went through the motions of punching out bad guys and belting out a few puns to keep up appearances.
Even the underworlds obligatory assassination/kidnapping attempts could dredge up more emotion from her than a prickling of annoyance at the extra attention she had to pay to the fights. Maybe she'd have been a little scared too, but she had 'Cass' with her, even Bruce avoided fighting with Cass.
"Need a break" Cass plopped down silently on the rooftop besides Steph, a smoothie in each hand.
Steph accepted her drink with a grin, closing her eyes to savor the cool flavorful liquid as it slid down her throat. "We're having a break right now."
"No." Cass said more firmly, stirring her own smoothie with her straw. "You need…" She slurped on her straw while flicking her hand back and forth. "A looong break."
Yeah it had been dumb to try hiding it from Cass, but Steph hadn't been hiding it exactly, just hoping her friend wouldn't bring it up. Steph didn't feel she needed a break, just for Bruce to hurry up and look at the stupid form.
It'd been two days since she'd called to tell Bruce about Doctor Arkham's list of questions, and Steph didn't want to risk writing down something the paranoid freak had deliberately lied about on the Bat computer.
"I'll take a break when everyone else does." Steph stretched and tossed her empty cup into an open dumpster in the alley below, jumping lightly to her feet. "Hey, Gotham's quiet tonight, let's change and go do something fun."
They hadn't even gotten back to Steph's apartment when Tim's voice buzzed out over the comms.
'Fun'll have to wait girls, there's a breakout at Arkham, all hands on deck.'