I neither created nor own Batman, Gotham, Dr. Leslie Thomkins, or Lucius Fox. However, I have created the other characters in this story. I also created this Red Light District of Gotham City.

I want to thank Anonymous Rex for the wonderful reviews. J

A phone hung on the wall of the hospital hallway leading from the emergency room to the waiting room. It was for worried family and friends of the patient who needed to contact and worry other family members and friends of the patient. No one paid any attention to it unless they had to use it. So, when it rang everyone just stared at it, except for Dr. Leslie Thomkins who answered it.

Everyone found this less strange than the fact the phone was ringing. No one thought it odd Dr. Thomkins took charge of an oddly ringing phone. She was that type of woman. Whether or not she was technically in charge she acted like she was. She faced the strange and distasteful without flinching, and got unpleasant tasks out of the way as soon as they came. Even those there who didn't know her could see these things in her straight face as she picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Keep the incoming patients as far apart as possible."

The line went dead. Dr. Thomkins hung up. She turned around to find Dr. Brown staring at her with furrowed brows. "What was that?"

"Exactly what I thought it was," Leslie replied.

The man opened his mouth, but the sound of sirens made him close it again. He and Leslie strode in that direction. The other doctors followed, entirely forgetting about the mysteriously ringing phone.

Between the woman's condition, the scrapes on the man's knuckles, and answers given by the paramedic's who'd brought them no one questioned Dr. Thomkins orders to put the patients on opposite ends of the wings and in assigning extra security on both rooms.

. . .

Leslie trudged up the steps to her home. She unlocked her front door, swung it open, and stared at the six-ft-two man built like a football linebacker who was standing in her front hall. She finished stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

"I could've seen those patients needed to be kept apart without the phone call."

"How are they?"

Leslie removed her coat and hung it up on the rack as she replied.

"They'll both live. The damage to her mouth will keep her from eating solids. The damage to her ribs will keep her from laughing or breathing deeply. The damage to her left eye will keep her from seeing out of it for days. The damage to his hand and wrist should keep him from using either for weeks, and I don't blame you."

Leslie turned back in time to see to her god-son's head droop forward, as his eyelids slide shut above their dark bags. One hand went back to her left hip. The other pointed toward the staircase.

"Upstairs, bed, now. I'll call Alfred."

"I can make it back the mansion."

"You'll risk driving in your condition?"

"I'll set the car to automatically travel through the tunnel syste. . ."

"I don't care. It will give us a chance to talk this afternoon, now go."

"We can talk now."

"When you've slept. I won't talk to someone who's slurring his words in exhaustion."

A corner of Bruce's mouth quirked up, then fell again before he turned and began to climb the stairs. Leslie marched behind him. Inwardly she sighed in relief. Bruce was no longer the boy she could pick up and carry up these stairs when he decided to be stubborn.

They stopped at the first door in the hall. Leslie opened the door, placed her free hand into the small of Bruce's back, and pushed him inside the guest bedroom. Once inside he slowly turned back to face her. Then his hand shot out and grabbed the inside door knob.

Leslie gave her knob a jerk. He held the door in place. She crossed her arms and stared up at him. His eyes pierced unrepentantly back into hers.

"How much were their hospital bills?"

"Not now."

"The fight started over her keeping $293 for herself. His hospital bill will be paid by the other women working longer hours."

"Neither will have to pay for months. We can afford to take nine hours of sleep before talking about it."

"How's 'Escape Route' coming?"

"Do I need to examine your ears, Bruce?"

"I won't be able to sleep until I know."

She sighed. "Lucius said we're making progress."

"How soon?"

"Bruce, we cannot begin to discuss the half-dozen road blocks that need to be overcome before you get at least six hours, and nine if you want to be at your most brilliant when we do."

"Your patient is going to need someplace safe to go when she gets out. So do all the others before the same happens to them."

"I know, Bruce. But neither of us can help them if we don't sleep. And I won't until you do."

Five seconds passed in silence. Bruce let go of the doorknob. He backed up, sat down on a corner of the bed, removed his loafers, and collapsed onto the mattress. Leslie closed the door behind her.

. . .

After a brief pause to glance around the landing Francesca shrugged, then bounced up the steps with a pleased smile on her face. As she strutted down the hallway while digging her key out of her pocket, a door flew open. Her smug grin was gone in an instant.

Deidra shot out of her room and latched onto Francesca's arm. Deidra stared up at her with wild eyes and gave a cackling laugh. "Did you hear, Fran? We don't have to pay rent for a while."

Francesca merely blinked a non-response. The other woman went on, ending her words with shrieking laugh. "The Batman put Samson in the hospital!"

The woman went into a gale of laughter. Then she retreated back into her own room, still caught up in her laughter and who knew what else. Francesca turned as another voice spoke behind her.

"It's true."

Francesca turned. Madge stood in her own doorway, leaning against it, looking as if she might have been trying to sleep and not succeeding. Francesca blinked at her.

"What he do to put the Bat over the edge?"

"He was beating on Jeannette. She's in the hospital too."

Francesca frowned. After a few moments, she gestured over her shoulder with her thumb. "He was beating Jeannette out there?"

"No, in here. Batman's the one who broke that." Madge gestured to the door after hers. Francesca could see the spider like cracks running through the wood.

"How'd the Bat know what was going on in here?"

Madge glanced down at the floor and mumbled under her breath, "Who knows." Then she retreated back into her room closing the door behind her.

Francesca stared at Madge's closed door, glancing from it to the cracked door beside it. She finally opened her own as she stuffed the money she'd been holding into the pocket of the quality men's jacket she wore.

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