(Hello Dear Reader, it's me again! So much has happened since I last updated. Well, for starters, in February I was a lead role in my college musical, I started a blog, survived the election of 2016, in November I went on a date with an American version of Dr. Fitz and I promise you guys, when I get the chance I WILL be writing how that date went because I kid you not it is Comedy Gold. I graduated in December, I'm working full-time at one job instead of having two, I became friends with a professional author who loves my original writings and is determined to get me published. I went to Wizard Con in January and got to meet James Marsters, Robert Englund and Michael Rooker. Actually meet is too vague a word when it comes to describing what went down with Michael Rooker. He and I freakin' pulled a prank on my friend and it was awesome.
Now that I have graduated and have only one job, I will have more time for writing. Before you get too excited, I must warn you that most of my time will be dedicated to my original stories. But fear not, I still will be continuing this series as well as my Chaos Saga and a few others.
Dear Readers, your reviews have been such a great encouragement to me. I appreciate each and every one of them! There were some Reviewers that I reeeally wanted to respond to but they didn't log in so I couldn't send them a reply. But just know that I will be making a point of responding more often to reviews because I want you guys to know that I am truly grateful.
Enough about me though, I hope that this chapter will be a joy to read. )
[xxCLOBBERELLAxx requested that the song 'Bohemian Rhapsody' be used in honor of Suicide Squad.]
[P.S: After doing some research, I realize that the job title I have Amber listed under as "Nurse" is rather inaccurate. She's more of an 'orderly', which is also known as a 'nurse assistant', so I'll continue having her called 'Nurse Amber', but I may tweak a few of her responsibilities at the asylum so that it will be more accurate. Also, someone left a comment in August 2016 about how my story reminded them of a piece of artwork on deviant art. I'd love to know what artworkthey were referring to.]
[Song Suggestions For This Chapter: 'Bohemian Rhapsody' by Queen, and 'You Don't Own Me' by Lesley Gore]
Chapter Twenty-Two
House Party
March 9, 2013
"Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide,
No escape from reality.
Open your eyes,
Look up to the skies and seeee…"
Nurse Amber Johnson grinned as two other voices joined in to sing with her.
"I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy,
Because I'm easy come, easy go,
Little high, little low,
Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to meee, tooo me."
Amber gave a light grunt as she finished tapping a silver banner to the cafeteria wall and stepped down from a step stool so that she could examine her work. "Congratulations, Chelsea!" cheerfully glittered back at her in big pink letters. With a nod she deemed the banner hanging a success and turned to face her helpers, Dr. Joan Leeland and Gatsby. With Joan being Amber's closest friend in the asylum and Gatsby being a friend as well as the art therapist, it was a no-brainer who she'd ask to help set up for Chelsea's going away party. She was grateful that Dr. Arkham had given his approval for the party to take place in the cafeteria, considering it was the only space large enough to hold not only Amber's "delightful" charges but also the food.
"Mamaaa, just killed a man," Amber went on singing.
"Amber, dearest, is it really, really a good idea to be singing that song in this particular building?" Gatsby asked from where he was filling up pink balloons with helium. One balloon, filled but not yet tied was being held pinched shut in his hands. Amber smiled as she continued to sing, giving Gatsby a little shrug as if to say, "Maybe, but I ain't about to stop."
"Put a gun against his head,
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead."
Joan chuckled, shaking her head at the younger woman. "Amber has told me that when Bohemian Rhapsody is being played or sung, there's 'nothing you can do to stop it.'"
"Mamaaa, life had just begun,
But now I've gone and thrown it all awaaay."
Gatsby cocked his head at Joan then at Amber. He shrugged and brought the balloon to his mouth, released a stream of helium and sang the next verse in a chipmunk-like voice.
"Mamaaa, oooh!"
Amber and Joan burst into fits of laughter as Gatsby emptied what was left of the balloon's helium into his mouth, tossed his head, threw back his left arm and dramatically put his right fist to his heart and continued to sing.
"Didn't mean to make you cry,
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow-"
The young women joined in despite their laughter. "Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters!"
"Well," came a man's older, more mature voice.
Gatsby jumped, turned around and blanched at the sight of their boss standing at the cafeteria doors. "Dr. Arkham," he squeaked. Literally. The artist turned red and covered his mouth, embarrassed. Amber bit hard on her lower lip to keep from howling with laughter. A glance at Joan told her the woman was having difficulties from doing the same thing.
Dr. Arkham cleared his throat, more of an attempt to get their attention than to actually clean his pipes. "You three seem to be coming along with setting up the party," he commented. His bespectacled eyes glanced at the deflated balloon in Gatsby's hand. The art therapist swiftly hid it behind his back.
"Nurse Amber?"
Amber's head quickly lifted to meet his gaze. "Sir?"
"Will the room be ready soon?"
"Just gotta bring the food in from the kitchen and we're good to go."
"Hm." Dr. Arkham strolled further into the cafeteria, his eyes taking in the decorations. His steps brought him closer to Amber. After a couple of seconds he looked over his shoulder, making sure no one else was present, and then looked back at her. "By the way," he added casually, "the Board of Mental Health summoned Dr. Fitz back to report his observations of our asylum. Before he left, Fitz told me that he's going to be involved in several meetings and that he's not sure when he'll be returning." Amber screwed up her mouth to disguise the grin that wanted so desperately to spread along her face. Dr. Arkham noticed it anyway but pretended that he hadn't. Dr. Arkham glanced down as if to check his watch. "Just thought that would be of interest to you."
"Thank you, sir."
He nodded and moseyed out of the cafeteria. Once the doors shut behind him, Amber let out a whoop and leapt as high as she could. "Thank you, you marvelous man, you!" she cheered, dancing in a little happy circle.
"Geez, Amber, do you think you could show a little more enthusiasm, you're such a stoic," Joan teased.
Amber grinned, clapping her hands giddily. "I'm sorry, it's just that Fitz has been watching me for about nine months – nine months, guys! Every thing I did or said was under his scrutiny, but not just his scrutiny – oooh no! He was the eyeballs of the Board! And now, glory to God and hallelujah, he's gone for an interminable amount of time!"
"You – ack! Ugh-ek!" Gatsby coughed, the last of the helium leaving his system. "You do realize the reason Dr. Fitz is gone is because he's reporting all of his observations, right?"
The smile on Amber's face didn't budge, but her eyes reflected inner panic. "Yes…Yes, I do. But I was trying to forget that part and relish the freedom that I have, so thank you very much, Gatsby, for reminding me."
The older man winced. "So, so sorry, my dear."
"Yeah, well…" Amber sighed and shrugged. "It was nice while it lasted." She glanced down at her hands and her face screwed up with distaste at the pink glitter dusting her palms. "Blagh, this is gonna take weeks to get off." Amber's eyes widened as her focus was drawn to glints of pink on her vibrant red scrubs. "Nooo," she whined. She dared to peek at her red converse. Miraculously, they had escaped the touch of glitter.
"No need to worry, my dear," Gatsby announced, holding a lint roller aloft.
Amber sighed with relief. "Bless you."
She held still as Gatsby rolled the sticky paper along the glittered surface of her scrubs until most of it was gone. The art therapist gave a triumphant grin. "Voila," he said.
Amber looked at her still glittery palms. "Hey, would you two be all right with bringing in the food while I go wash this off? I'll only be a minute."
"Go on, we've got this," Joan assured her, slipping her arm through the crook of Gatsby's elbow and leading him to the kitchen.
…
The last stubborn bit of glitter clinging to her skin finally admitted defeat and Amber smiled as it swirled down the sink drain. "Yesss," she quietly cheered, turning off the water. She stepped towards the paper towel dispenser and tugged some free.
"The guards won't even think about looking in here first," a muffled, but familiarly roughish voice said from outside the door. Amber's motions slowed as she listened. "And by the time they finally think to look, we'll be out of Arkham," the voice went on.
"But what if someone's in there?" another familiar voice asked this one with a British accent. It suddenly clicked in Amber's head who was outside the door.
"Then we'll just kill them so they can't raise the alarm."
"I'm not exactly thrilled to be using the ladies room as my escape," a third voice added. This voice sounded well-educated and condescending. Oh yeah, Amber definitely knew who was out there.
"Suck it up and be grateful I decided you two could tag along on my escape," the rough voice hissed.
With a smirk, Amber finished drying her hands then dried off a spot on the sink counter. After she tossed the paper away, Amber sat on top of the newly dried counter and waited.
The door gave the barest hint of a squeak when it opened, revealing Harvey Dent, Jonathan Crane and Edward Nigma sneaking into the girl's bathroom.
"Hi-yah, boys," Amber greeted, smiling. All three grown men gave a yelp of surprise. Amber pretended not to have heard and swung her legs back and forth a bit like she hadn't a care in the world. "What'cha up to?"
As one, Nigma and Crane moved their surprised gazes towards Dent. The ex-district attorney's mouth opened and closed several times. "Um," he finally managed to say.
"Oh brilliant," Crane muttered.
Amber slid off the counter, hands clasped behind her back and the sweetest of smiles on her face. "You guys wouldn't happen to be trying to escape, wouldja?" Amusement danced in her eyes as she watched the men flounder. "I mean, it probably isn't what it looks like. You guys were probably looking for a supplies closet to help with Chelsea's party, right?"
Nigma seemed to understand the chance she was silently offering them. He nodded vigorously. "Uh- yep! Absolutely, we were just – uh, looking for balloons!"
Dent seemed to catch on. "Yes!" he said, holding up his index finger to emphasize his words. "Balloons!"
Crane looked blankly at the two and then at Amber. She smiled and raised her eyebrows, her head tilting forward ever so slightly as she waited. Crane let out an annoyed sigh. "Obviously this isn't the right door to the closet, gentlemen."
Amber gave him the OK sign and winked before schooling her features to look understanding. "Ah, well, you boys needn't have bothered. We're all done decorating the cafeteria. So you should just head on back to your cells and wait there until the guards bring you to the cafeteria. I wouldn't want you to miss the cake."
Nigma's ear perked up at that. "Cake?" he repeated. "What kind?"
Amber's mischievous smile returned. "That would ruin the mystery, wouldn't it?"
Nigma's eyebrows rose. Oh she was good. Reeeally good. Darling, Amber, was getting reeeeeeeally good.
"And it would be a real shame if you didn't get any ice cream," Amber went on.
Dent leaned forward. "Ice cream?"
Amber turned and inspected her reflection in the mirror with a bored air. "Yep. I got the double flavored tub. One side vanilla, the other side chocolate."
"D-double flavored?"
"Mmh-hmm."
She caught the exchanged look between Nigma and Dent. "Amber," Nigma began, clearing his throat.
"Nigma," Amber said, unable to help herself.
Nigma gave a smile. "Darling," he added with an anxious chuckle. "Uuum, seeing as how our services are no longer needed, I think we should probably be getting back to our cells. Right, gentlemen?"
"Tooootally should," Dent agreed, nodding.
"Well," Nigma said, clapping his hands together once. "Since that's taken care of, let's get going." He turning and shoved past the two men. Dent hurried after him, leaving a cross-looking Jonathan Crane alone in the bathroom with Amber.
"You used their gimmicks against them…with food," Crane dryly stated. His shockingly blue eyes narrowed at her as he folded his arms across his chest. "That won't work on me."
Amber sighed, feigning disappointment. "No," she agreed, turning from the mirror to look him face to face. "But I'm sure I won't have to."
One of Crane's eyebrows quirked upward. "Good. So what do you intend on using?"
Amber mirrored his stance, arms crossed over her chest. "My dear, dear Dr. Crane," she began. "You are a full grown man, standing inside the women's bathroom; a place that you yourself said was an embarrassing way to escape. And the man who had that plan has now abandoned it, leaving you here alone with no clue as to how he meant to use this particular bathroom as a part of his escape plan. Now, I'm about to leave this room and see to the last details for Chelsea's party, which will leave you all alone…standing here…in the girl's bathroom…without a plan…until the next female comes in to use the bathroom…It'll be an awkward way for her to meet the feared Scarecrow but I'm sure your dignity can take it, right?"
Jonathan Crane stared Amber down, the frown on his face becoming less prominent as the seconds ticked by. "Well," he finally said. "I suppose I should join the others."
"Good call, Dr. Crane."
He nodded and turned to go. He opened the door and flinched back at the sound of two guards talking down the hall. Crane narrowed the door's opening to a mere slit and watched as the guards took their time. Amber tip-toed behind Crane and he shifted so as to let her peek as well.
"I don't believe you!" one guard was saying. Amber recognized him as Stan, but couldn't remember his last name. Marley? Miles? Mollens?
"I swear on my grandmother's grave," the other guard, Titus, insisted. He put a hand over his heart. "Bradley ate that entire steak within ten minutes and a whole baked potato! He won the challenge!"
"Nah-uh, you're pullin' my leg!"
Amber rolled her eyes. Titus and Bradley were always challenging themselves with food.
"I feel I am indebted to you for giving the three of us a chance," Crane whispered, just audible enough for her to hear. "And I also feel that you should know something about our last encounter with Dr. Fitz."
Amber stiffened but didn't look away from the tiny crack. She heard Crane draw in a breath. "All of your charges, myself included, were called to be interviewed by the doctor before he left."
"What did he interview about?"
"You."
Amber drew back then and Crane nearly fell over from the sudden change of positions. The door closed and the voices outside became muffled.
"What do you mean?" Amber asked.
Crane straightened his uniform and adjusted his glasses. "Dr. Fitz asked us how we felt about you and other such questions that directly pertained to our relationships with you."
Amber made a face. "I'm kinda afraid to ask…"
Crane chuckled. "No need. I'll just tell you."
"That's not a relief."
"Hmm. Perfect." He grinned wickedly at her and Amber couldn't help but think that the Joker had Crane beat when it came to creepy and intimidating smiles. But there was something unsettling about the usually stoic Crane showing such a gleeful emotion.
"There was a plot we concocted to make sure that this interview was not used as a means to transfer you to another asylum," he held up a hand when Amber tried to speak, "please, don't think too much of it." Amber snapped her mouth closed and frowned. "During these interviews, we gave Dr. Fitz a hard time, usually by avoiding giving any answers. But the Joker was our," Crane made air quotation marks, "'secret weapon' as it were. He actually did answer Dr. Fitz's questions."
Amber groaned, running a hand down her face. "Oh good lord, I don't even wanna know."
Crane's eyes glimmered. "I happened to come across the recording of our interviews."
Amber looked up at him, a frown creasing her brow. "How did you –?" Crane merely smiled smugly. "Ugh, never mind. I suppose you're going to tell me what he said?"
Crane withdrew a USB drive that was tucked within his sock. "I planned on using this copy for further research, but I suppose I could let you have it." He held it out to her.
"Dude, it's scary that you're able to just make copies of confidential stuff."
Crane waved away her words, pretending to blush. "Oh stop it, you're just saying that."
Amber reached out and paused. "Why are you giving me this?"
Crane's eyes never broke contact. "Perhaps I'm interested to see how you'll react."
Looking between Crane's eyes and the USB, Amber contemplated what to do. She was going to take the USB, no doubt about it. She couldn't just let Crane have it in his possession, but what would she do with it afterward? Would she actually listen to it or trash it?
Crane wiggled the USB with his fingers. "Tick-tock, Nurse Amber. Those guards sound as if they are almost out of the hall and then I'll be leaving, with or without this drive."
Amber snatched it up and clutched it with both hands, as if trying to hide its presence from herself. Crane grinned and backed away, hand reaching for the door handle. "See you at the party, Nurse Amber."
He peered cautiously out the hall then slipped through the door. It closed after him with a soft squeak, leaving Amber alone with the USB drive in her hands.
…
She'd found the break room empty. It was still early morning; most of the nurses and orderlies wouldn't be around until nearer to afternoon. Chelsea's party would be starting soon and Amber would be sought out for it to be underway so she had very little time.
She retrieved her laptop from her locker along with earphones and quickly set up in a corner out of sight from the door window. If anyone passed by, they wouldn't see her unless they came into the room. If that happened, Amber had made sure her laptop screen was turned away from the door and brought up her email login page as a back up story.
Glancing down at the USB in her hand, Amber swallowed nervously. If it wasn't for the look on Crane's stupid face. Well, handsome face, yes, but still stupid!
Dang it, all of my male charges are handsome, aren't they?
Even Dent, though half his face was hideously burned, still retained his dashing good looks on the unmarred side of his face.
It's not fair! I'm a single girl, looking for a single guy and I just happen to be put in charge of some of the best looking men I've ever seen in my life and what happens? Hm? What freakin' happens? They're all friggin' insane! That's what happens! And criminals too!
Amber paused her mental rant to glance skyward. "You're laughing at me, aren't you?"
It wasn't just the look on Crane's face when he'd baited her with the USB drive and the Joker's response to questions about herself. It was the looks she'd caught on other faces every time she and the Joker were mentioned in the same sentence. The looks had been going on for a couple of months now and Amber couldn't figure out what it was about.
She looked back at the USB drive and sighed. Now or never.
Plugging it into her laptop, Amber stuck in her headphones and clicked open the file when it came up. All of the patients' interviews were labeled. Amber clicked on the Joker's. A black box appeared sound waves rising and falling with every little noise.
"So, u-u-um." Dr. Fitz cleared his throat and the lines buzzed. "What are your thoughts concerning Nurse Amber Johnson."
"Oh she's a peach," the Joker's voice replied cheerfully.
"Wha- you answered me-? Um, o-okay. Could you be more clear on that?" The sound of a pen scratching hurriedly along paper could be heard.
"Just what I said, doc. Amber is an absolute peach. Delicious, really. She's the cutest thing when she tries to act all mad and order me around."
More pen scratches. "Yes, yes- and?"
Amber rubbed her forehead and sighed. Seriously, how could Fitz not see that the Joker was setting him up?
"And what?"
"Well, do you feel well treated under her care?"
"Oh yeah, sure."
"Does she treat the other patients well?"
"Doc, Amber-."
"Nurse Amber," Fitz corrected.
Amber pictured the look of frustration that must have crossed the Joker's face before he plowed on. "Amber," the Joker emphasized and Amber could see the maliciousness smile on hs face as he said it. Dr. Fitz didn't reprimand him. "Amber does all she can for us. God knows why."
Dr. Fitz's pen flew along the paper as if he couldn't write past enough. Then the Joker spoke again.
"Which is why we're all prepared to kill whoever takes her away from us."
Boom, there's the punch line. Amber thought she heard Fitz's pen nib tear through the paper.
"What?" Fitz's accented voice asked with a waver.
"See, here's the thing, Fitzy. Amber is our nurse and we tend to get a little protective over things that belong to us."
Dr. Fitz slowly began to write again, but with less excitement now. "You think Nurse Johnson belongs to you and the others?"
The Joker chuckled. "Well, she belongs to me more than she does to any of the others."
Something inside Amber's stomach jolted and she froze. What did he just ...?
"And why is that?"
"It's just meant to be," the Joker intoned with an amused sigh.
Surely the Joker was joking. Pulling Fitz's leg. That had to be it.
"I – uh..." Fitz stammered.
"Look, doc, all I'm saying is, if you mess with our girl, you'll have to answer to all of us. But if you take my nurse away, you'll have me to answer to. Got it, Brittney?"
Silence.
"Well, I'm glad we had this little chat, huh, doc? We'll have to do it again sometime. Let's do lunch!"
"Guards, this interview is over. Please escort the Joker back to his cell."
"Bye-bye, Fitzy!"
The audio file ended and Amber remained seated, staring at the black box. In a blink, she swiped the USB from her laptop and threw it on the floor, crushing it under foot. The sudden motion caused her to bump her laptop and her iTunes account began to play, the volume having also been tampered by the bump. Lesley Gore sang at top volume in Amber's ear phones, assaulting her eardrums.
"AAAND DOOOON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!
OOOOH, DOOOOON'T TELL ME WHAT TO SAY!
AND PLEASE, WHEN I GO OUT WITH YOU
DOOON'T PUT ME ON DISPLAY!"
"Aaagh! Mother Theresa!" Amber hissed, yanking the buds from her ears.
…
(I apologize that this chapter had a little more of a serious element to it than my previous chapters. I promise the next chapter will be less serious and more silly. Pinkie swear! Buuut, I kinda had to end it like this because the outcome of the next chapter depends on you, guys.
The Joker: *burst through the door with a microphone* "Thaaaat's right, ladies and gentlemen! It's time for another poll!"
My Purple Skies: "Where the heck have you been?"
The Joker: "Waiting for you to get off of hiatus."
My Purple Skies: "Mmh-hm. Where have you really been?"
The Joker: "Out killing Jared Leto's Joker fangirls."
My Purple Skies: "WHAT?"
The Joker: *grins manically* "I've been reeeally busy."
My Purple Skies: *groaning and rubbing her eyes* "Whyyyyy?"
The Joker: "Hey! I was being productive! Which is more than what you can say!"
My Purple Skies: "It's called being an Adult with Adult Responsibilites in the Real World."
The Joker: "Bah! Real world, shmeal world."
My Purple Skies: "Unbelievable." *looks back at audience* "Anyways, Dear Readers, I need your help to find out how the next chapter will affect the rest of my story."
The Joker: *holds up a sign that reads "Soooo much power in your hands!"*
My Purple Skies: "So not only would I like for a review, I'd also appreciate it if you visited my Profile Page and answered the Poll Question I have there. Since I've had so many people comment favorably about a certain pairing they are hopeful for in the future, I wanted to hear what everyone else thought about it. So, my question is…. "In Welcome to the Madhouse, would you like for Nurse Amber and the Joker to become a thing?"
The Joker: *whirls around, eyes wide* "WHAT?!"
My Purple Skies: "You heard me, Dear Readers, so please, leave me your feed back and –."
The Joker: "What do you mean by 'become a thing'? What kind of a thing are we talkin' 'bout here?"
My Purple Skies: "You know very well what kind of a 'thing' I'm talking about, Joker." *turns attention back to audience* "I hope to hear from you guys soon! Until next time!"