Chapter Thirty-Four: Hypnotized

In Lean on Vee's, Jervis Tetch sat at the bar on a pew, grateful for the drink he'd been given ('compliments of the house', a young woman had told him), as he waited for his hour. While he might not have come so early on his own dime, Sylvia had insisted. And, as many were learning, it was hard to say 'no' to such a strong-willed woman as she.

Sylvia sat at the bar with him, drinking a club soda.

"No balloons, no magical dust. No mirrors of any kind. Not even a dove or two…" Sylvia mused, looking at him. "What kind of magician are you, really?"

"A magician, I am not," Tetch said wisely. "As my business card suggests, I'm a hypnotist. My craft is the power of the mind, and what a simple suggestion may do if one's mind is free and uninhibited…that is the act."

"'Uninhibited'," Sylvia repeated, chuckling. "Being a hypnotist, are you able to make someone do whatever you want?"

"Only what they themselves want to do. Deep down."

"And how do you know what that is if you've never met them?"

"It's a super power," Tetch responded, flirtatious. "It's really amazing what some people want, deeply."

"You've met me a couple of times now."

"That, I have."

"What does your 'super power' say about me then?" Sylvia asked coyly.

"My dear, I doubt you'd want to know."

"Oh, you 'doubt' I'd want to know, huh? Well, I most certainly want to know now."

Tetch looked at her curiously, saying, "You're not at all like your brother, Jim Gordon, are you, Mrs. Cobblepot."

"Mm. I think you've lost your super power." Sylvia said, smirking at him. "On a contrary to what you think you know or have seen, my brother and I are very much alike. Our prospects, on the other hand: Night and day."

"So alike," Tetch offered, "that you two may want the same thing, perhaps?"

"Meaning?"

Tetch said mysteriously, "Nothing, of course. I meant nothing by it. Just playing the field, I suppose."

Sylvia chuckled, "You're barking up the wrong tree, then. I'm happily married."

"With a child on the way, it appears." Tetch said ingeniously, glancing down at her then adding, "Boy or girl?"

"Girl."

"Only a few months away from the big day, aren't we?"

"Something like that."

"Now don't feel as though you must be so guarded around me," Tetch assured wistfully. "I'm not dangerous at all."

"This is Gotham," Sylvia told him, unconvinced. "Everyone is dangerous. Even the ones who say they aren't—those are the people who really are…at least, more than the rest of us."

"No offense, my dear, but you are dangerous as well."

"No offense taken; it's the truth."

"So should I be more precarious about being alone in a club full of your more bruiser-like associates," said Tetch, glancing over at Gabe, Dagger, and Chilly, who were bouncers at the club. "Or perhaps" He smiled, "I should be more wary of a woman who possesses such a natural beauty as yours."

"You've got a silver tongue, Tetch." Sylvia said coolly. "I won't deny that. But," (she stood.) "As I said, you're barking up the wrong tree. I want no one else but my husband."

"Even on a subconscious level?"

"Especially on a subconscious level," Sylvia said, winking at him.

"And if I wanted to test that level of confidence?"

"I'd invite you to try, but you would only fail. And I doubt that would pave the way to more shows."

Tetch nodded respectfully, holding his drink to hers. "Then a toast: To the shows that pay my way through this magnanimous city and the hostess who has taught me humility through my own arduous endeavors."

They clinked their glasses.

Within the hours that proceeded to follow, Lean on Vee's steadily became a packed building. All seats were filled, and some of the guests had taken to even standing at the bar or around the club, along the staircases, and around the second floor, leaning over the rails to watch the Great Jervis Tetch perform.

Sylvia was in the crowd, minding her own business until a hand touched her shoulder so lightly, she wondered if she'd been touched at all. She turned to see Barbara Kean standing behind her, wearing a beautiful, long royal blue dress; a strand of pearls around her neck, and mesmerizing streams of turquoise sequence lined her dress that reminded Sylvia of ocean waves and aurora lights.

Barbara's hair was pulled up into a ponytail, the end locks braided into a stunning French plait. Shimmers of pink and blues covered her eyelids. To say she was stunning was an understatement.

"Well, well," Sylvia greeted, "Didn't think I'd see you for another few weeks."

"I heard you booked Tetch for a night," said Barbara, shrugging. "Thought I'd come to see what kind of show he'd wow your guests with."

"And where's your lesser half?"

"Tabitha decided to stay behind," she said, another small shrug following.

"Guess she's learned she's not welcome anywhere around me," Sylvia uttered crassly, smirking when Barbara smiled at her.

"Eventually, you'll learn to like her."

"When Hell freezes over, maybe."

"Or you'll just get over it."

"She killed my mother-in-law, Babs. There's no 'getting over' that."

"Fine then." Barbara sighed. "At least you still like me."

"More than I care to admit."

"'More than you'd care to admit', I bet." Barbara said sweetly, wrinkling her nose playfully at her. "I haven't forgotten that kiss you gave me in front of everyone: Tabitha, Butch, even Oswald. I was hoping it'd happen again."

"Tabitha wouldn't like that, I imagine." Sylvia suspected coolly.

"What doesn't she like anymore?"

"Having problems between you two?"

"Small debates, no problems."

"Small tiffs, no arguments," Sylvia corrected. "Same thing to me."

"There's no getting the last word with you, is there?"

"You've known me for a time, B. You should know that by now."

"Has anyone told you you're like Jim?" Barbara questioned, slightly annoyed.

"Some people have said we're nothing alike." Sylvia returned, thinking of Tetch.

"Well, I guess they don't know you and Jim like I do, huh."

"I guess not." Sylvia agreed. "How's your business? Surviving?"

"Thriving. Yours?"

"Same as usual."

Barbara glanced at her, over all, saying, "You're starting to show more."

"Yep."

"You're having a girl, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Let me know if you need any baby clothes. Jim and I were always thinking we'd have one…went ahead of ourselves and bought a few things. Shit happens, and here we are. So, I have them still in my apartment, if you'd like them," Barbara said casually. She put an arm around Sylvia, bringing her closer. "We wouldn't want that sweet baby of yours wanting anything, right?"

"Sure." Sylvia said, unconvinced. "Because you certainly care that much about Oswald and me."

"You're right. Maybe it's only you. After all, we have history." Barbara whispered. She gently caressed Sylvia's face in the palm of her hand, her thumb ghosting over her chin before she kissed Sylvia's cheek, and then said promptly, "Phew! I think I'm going to get a drink."

"Help yourself." Sylvia said, gesturing her forward. "The bar's open."

"Thanks, babe." Barbara responded sweetly, and she left her side.

Sylvia watched her, feeling as though she might have missed something in the conversation that had just happened, and yet not feeling completely unsafe prior to it. Shaking it off, she proceeded to walk to the center stage, standing under the spot light in a knee-length, dark green sundress.

She picked the mic from its stand and addressed the crowd: "Good evening! How is everyone today?"

Hollers and whooping calls came from all around her.

She said inventively, "Today, we have an attraction: a hypnotist. He's fairly new to Gotham but we will all soon know his name by the end of today, won't we? Everyone, I introduce you to the Great Jervis Tetch: Hypnotist Extraordinaire."

As he was introduced, Tetch proceeded to walk from behind the curtains and took the center stage, smiling at Sylvia warmly.

"Thank you, Lark," he said lightly. "Thank you, everyone. Um, actually, if our beautiful hostess doesn't mind participating in my first act…I'd be more than grateful and humbled."

Sylvia had started to leave the stage, owing to give the floor to him, but hearing him, she turned and walked back. Whispering, she said, "If you're thinking of delving into my psyche, you have no idea what you're going to find, Mr. Tetch."

"By all means," He uttered, "The more you try to warn me, the further you pique my curiosity."

Sylvia sighed, rolling her eyes, and she waved at the crowd as she remained on stage with him.

"First," said Tetch loudly as he continued to do his act, "I will place our Lark under my spell, and hypnotize her. However, I would need the lady's consent."

Sylvia gave him a look saying, "Isn't it better to try and take it than ask for permission?"

The crowd tittered. Meanwhile, Gabe, Dagger, and Chilly glanced at one another suspiciously; Barbara, who stood at the bar, peered at everyone else with little amusement.

"Alas, my dear, regardless of what is better, I do require your permission to put you under."

"As long as I don't need an affidavit, fine. You have my permission," Sylvia said coolly. She leaned into him, whispering quickly, "Do not do anything that is even the slightest bit dangerous or anything that would involve my child; otherwise, I will come after you. Understand?"

"Understood." Tetch promised. "I will not harm your child."

"Fine. Do what-have-you then." Sylvia said, closing her eyes.

"Actually, I'll need you to keep those beautiful eyes of yours open."

Sylvia opened her eyes, saying, "Alright. They're open. Now what?"

"Now look into my eyes. Not above them. Not around them. But deep into their center…"

As he said so, Sylvia did. Tetch held up a pocket watch, its face open to her; the ticking seemingly louder than a normal watch. And fast too…then it became slower, and slower...as though it synchronized with her own passively alive heart beat.

Then her eyes closed.

Barbara took a sip of her tequila, watching Sylvia's eyes close. Sylvia stood on the stage, arms at her side, relatively relaxed. Needlessly unbothered by the world around her or its fragmented reality.

"So, our dear Lark is now completely hypnotized," Tetch said proudly. "What would we have her do?"

"We could have her tell the truth."

The voice came from the back, the very back. Tetch squinted his eyes to see who the person was that had spoken so boldly, and from the crowd was Mrs. James, wearing her usual tight bun, and a beige colored jump suit that seemed to fit too snugly along her hips and legs.

"The truth?" Tetch said curiously, standing in front of Sylvia. "So, my dear woman, you'd have us delve into her mind, her heart, her true psyche to discover…what exactly?"

"What her true crimes are against the city," Mrs. James stated unhappily. With little dictation, the woman approached the stage, shooing some of the more unruly goons out of her way without much consideration for her own safety. "This woman is running against my husband for mayor—her husband, sir, being Penguin: Oswald Cobblepot."

"Yeah!" growled one of the guests. "We know who the Penguin is, y'old coot!"

"She," Mrs. James said harshly, pointing at Sylvia, "has many a time come to the public and accused my family of being corrupt, of being dirty. Well, it is time to show that she has done countless crimes, more than the rest of my family is even fully capable of. I have my reporter, here" (she drew the crowd's attention to a measly man who was at least half her height) "to document these proceedings!"

Barbara rolled her eyes and drew attention to herself as she said coldly, "So, basically" (Mrs. James glared at her) "You're going to attack my friend when she's most vulnerable, in a way that she won't be able to defend herself, because you feel subjugated. Is that it?"

"No! She says she has 'nothing to hide'," Mrs. James stated coldly. "It's time to see if she's been honest. Well!"

Tetch looked at everyone else, waiting for a disagreement. Waiting for any one to object.

"Miss Kean," said Tetch, waiting for her to disapprove. "You seem to have this Lark's best interests at heart. Do you wish to proceed?"

"If Lark says she has nothing to hide," said Barbara passively, "Then I guess she has nothing to hide. Do what you want."

Tetch smiled widely, and happily gestured for Mrs. James to come on stage. Righteously, she did, holding her head high, chin almost exposed to the roof top as she stood beside him.

"I am at your mercy, Mrs. James," said Tetch, bowing dramatically to her. "And, by definition, so is our hostess. Please proceed. And, my dear Lark" (he touched Sylvia's shoulder) "by all means, do tell."

Mrs. James watched as Tetch stepped out of the way, gesturing to them.

"Sylvia," Tetch said softly, "When I count down to one, you will answer Mrs. James' questions in whatever manner you see fit, just as long as you speak the truth and only the irrefutable truth. To be clear, you will not in any way harm yourself or anyone else. In three...two…one…"

Sylvia opened her eyes, and turned to Mrs. James. Seemingly lucid, but otherwise alert.

Mrs. James glanced at Tetch uncertainly. And Barbara couldn't help but smirk. Even while Sylvia was under Tetch's spell, lucid, restrained by her own subconscious, and otherwise vulnerable and hardly dangerous, Mrs. James was still afraid of her.

"Go on, Mrs. James," Tetch encouraged. "She's harmless, I assure you."

"Cobblepot," Mrs. James sniffed. "What crimes have you committed."

Sylvia said lightly, "Since when?"

"Since…well, since ever?" Mrs. James said curiously. "I mean, when did you first start committing crimes."

"In general, or specifics?"

"In general, I suppose."

Sylvia said flatly, "I robbed my first gas station when I was fifteen."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You've done other stuff, then."

"Yes, I have."

"So tell us about that, why don't you."

"You asked me to tell you when I committed my first crimes, 'generally' speaking. What else do you want to know?" Sylvia said calmly, although the crowd was tittering, knowing their hostess would have easily snapped at the former mayor's wife long before this moment had she been in her alert and awake state.

Mrs. James, clearly stinted by Sylvia's lack of usual open-book mouth syndrome, said halfheartedly, "Tell us everything you've ever done since your first crime."

"That will take a few hours," Sylvia admitted.

"Tell us anyway."

"Actually," Barbara interrupted, "not all of us have a few hours to kill. How about just telling us the darkest deeds you've ever done, Liv."

The crowd agreed.

Sylvia looked at Tetch pointedly. He said calmly, "Do as they wish, my dear."

Mrs. James hissed at her reporter, "You better get your pen ready, Damien!"

The reporter put his pen to the notepad, steadfast.

Sylvia said calmly, "When I was younger, a boy consistently harassed me. To get even, I falsely accused an 18-year-old boy of sexually molesting me when I was 17 years old. He was tried and convicted as an adult and served 10 years."

Barbara chuckled.

"After my brother left our family to join the Army, I was angry for him leaving me. I lashed out, and I beat a dog to death." Sylvia continued, her facial expressions slightly changed from pensive to minutely distressed. She added in spite of the murmurs, "After, I buried him in my backyard. I never told anyone about it."

"These are your darkest deeds?" Mrs. James questioned.

Sylvia said coolly, "I'm working my way up to it, you fucking twat. Shut the fuck up so I can answer your damn question, won't you?"

Mrs. James glared at her then at Tetch, saying, "I thought you said she was going to be civil!"

"I said she could answer your questions in her own way," Tetch returned lightly from the sidelines, "And that she would harm neither anyone else nor herself. The fact that she expresses herself in cruel euphemisms and curses are hers alone."

Sylvia continued, "When my brother came back from the Army, his high school sweetheart, Danielle, was supposed to be waiting for him." (Barbara looked at her curiously, having never heard this about Jim.) "Unknown to my brother, Danielle was cheating on him. So when he was on the bus home, I snuck into Danielle's apartment, and I beat her within an inch of her life. Her family was scared of me, so they ended up moving cities. To save my brother from heart ache, and to cover up the fact that I had nearly killed his girlfriend, I plagiarized a note, made it seem like Danielle had written that she had moved and he had to move on. Jim believed me."

Mrs. James said, "This is all nice and everything, but let's touch on some murders, why don't we."

Sylvia smiled, saying, "Murders in general, or ones that the public would consider 'overkill'. See what I did there? Puns."

"Murders that you would never tell the public."

Sylvia tilted her head to the side, saying, "I've killed people because they went against my family: be it my parents, my brother, or my husband. I've killed people because they called my husband names no wife would want to hear about their loved one. I've killed people because my husband asked me to, because they would hinder his plans or mine for the future of Gotham, or because I felt like it. If you want to know something in particular, Mrs. James, I suggest you try asking specific questions."

Mrs. James stepped towards her, angrily, "You're such a dishonest woman, aren't you. Such a horrible person…"

"I'm petulant, insubordinate, rude, crass, and any other word you can think of," Sylvia admitted. "But if I am dishonest, then you are so much worse."

Mrs. James looked as though she might blow a fuse. She stammered, "What was your mother like?"

"My mother did not want Jim or me. She despised my father, hated her children, despite our wish to be loved and beloved by her. She paid back our love with selfishness which led her to her becoming a drug addict, and abandoning us. Later, Jim and I soon discovered that she completed suicide, finding death a better suit than her own family." Sylvia replied flatly.

"Your mother sounds psychotic. Like you."

"My mother felt unloved and useless," Sylvia returned calmly. "She felt hopeless in a world without hope, and empty in a world without love. She behaved as the world had trained her to behave, and she lived in a way that she thought was best. I loved her without condition and without mistrust; and she abandoned me. If a mother's psychosis is any indication of what her daughter will become, I fear I have little hope in proving to you that I'm not psychotic. And if I'm crazy, I can guarantee my daughter will be too."

Barbara smirked as the crowd muttered, nodding. Mrs. James grinned widely, hearing Sylvia admit that she was insane, and her daughter would be too.

"Even if my mom, myself, and my daughter are crazy," Sylvia said softly. She stepped towards Mrs. James pointedly. "At least we're not fucking liars."

Mrs. James sniffed, shuffling in her position unceremoniously. Loudly, she announced, "What other atrocities have you committed, Mrs. Cobblepot. Tell us!"

"After some of Maroni's men tried to rape me," Sylvia said pointedly, "I got down on my knees, sucked one of them off until they were fully erect, and then I bit his dick off, and shot his testicles off with a gun. Did that last year, if you really wanted to know."

Mrs. James coughed, and Barbara nearly spit out her drink. Tetch, on the other hand, appeared amused as ever.

Sylvia continued, amidst the chatty crowd, "Prior to that, a girl named Tiffany Rubberdale used to work for me until she and several of my other employees were taken down by the GCPD. Tiffany's fiance, Burke Drifas, was an abusive asshole. I poured scorching hot tomato soup over his head, watched his skin boil from the inside out. I had him taken to the pier where I ordered my men to cut off his arms and legs, and then drown him in the river."

"Keep going, baby!" Barbara shouted, encouraging her.

"One of my guards who was ordered to protect me…I beat him until he couldn't move and he was so psychologically damaged, he could no longer work for me. His name was Tomas." Sylvia said with little restraint. "A long time ago, maybe a couple of years, Fish Mooney had a new Umbrella Boy, a man named Timothy. Once we were done interrogating him, I took a paring knife and sliced him from hip to hip, and his entrails fell out all over the floor."

"One more, Liv!" Barbara cheered.

Sylvia said with a smile, "I made one of my employees cut open their arm and give me an artery to prove that they're still loyal to me. And, funnily enough, I still don't completely trust him. But he seems to love me for it."

By now, the crowd was riled, people glancing at each other, unsure of what to think or what to say except to say that they were stunned or otherwise intrigued by Sylvia's slew of confessions.

"You come up with all these reasons to defend yourself," Mrs. James sneered. "Whether that was because they attacked your family or otherwise. You ever do anything just because you felt like it? You ever kill a man because you felt like it?"

"Personally," Sylvia said quietly, "selfishly, I'd kill anyone if I felt like it, Mrs. James. Babies…men, women…grandfathers and grandmothers alike. All of them are simply dead to me, if given the right mood. And personally, again, selfishly, I'd feel no remorse if I killed you, Mrs. James."

She started towards her, walking carefully, and yet in a trance as before.

Sylvia said darkly, "You, a person who is so fucking weak and callous. You, a person who thinks they can just whip their dick out anywhere and think that everyone and anyone will simply bow down to you based on the fact that your husband was—at one point—somebody in this town."

Mrs. James nearly lost her balance as she was so close to the edge of the stage, stooping down so she was on her knees, hands raised above her to flail off Sylvia's dark admissions.

Sylvia chuckled, "Oh yes, I would kill you in an instant. I'd go a step further, actually. I'd fuck my husband on top of your decaying corpse, and I wouldn't lose an ounce of sleep over it. Because you are nothing to me, to anyone else, not even to your fucking husband, and I'm pretty sure you and everyone here knows that. And I'd kill you because I felt like it, but not just because of that: but because everyone and anyone would fucking love me for it. And if you think I'm wrong, ask them…" Sylvia slowly raised a hand, pointing to the crowd around her.

Whether or not she actually knew that she was standing on stage in front of at least fifty people was still up for debate, but Sylvia—whether or not she knew it—subconsciously knew what she was doing and to whom she was speaking.

"Fascinating." Tetch whispered.

"Why don't you kill me now." Mrs. James squeaked, looking up at her from her crouched position.

"Because…" Sylvia uttered flatly. "I don't feel like it."

Tetch chuckled, clapping his hands. Just as he did, Sylvia turned to him curiously, but not before Mrs. James quickly got down on the ground level floor and ran out of the club while she still had an inkling of self-respect left; her reporter was running directly behind her.

Barbara smirked, saying, "Mr. Tetch!"

"Yes, Miss Kean."

"See if you can't get her to fall in love with you or something." Barbara said knowingly. "I'd like to see a little Frenching before I leave as well."

Tetch chuckled saying, "I doubt I could make Sylvia do that, Miss Kean. As I've mentioned before, she must want this on a subconscious level…"

"Don't know if you don't try," Barbara said, shrugging, grinning madly. "Aren't you just a little curious yourself?"

Tetch observed her for a moment before he turned to Sylvia with resolve. He put his hand over Sylvia's forehead and she became quite still.

"My dear Lark…you've finished answering the mad woman's inquiries...If you could do one last thing for me."

"What is it?" Sylvia asked monotonously.

"I do appreciate your candor and your patience, my dear," Tetch said appreciatively. "You're like the best subject a man like me in my profession could ask for."

The crowd chortled in response.

"When I count to three, you will be irrevocably in love with me. Madly in love—so in love, you won't be able to contain yourself." Tetch said dramatically. "In…one, two, three..."

Sylvia opened her eyes.

"Sylvia, my love."

She turned to him in question.

"Do you love me, Sylvia?"

"No." She answered calmly.

The crowd let out an amused chuckle, and 'oohhh!' Barbara grinned broadly as Jervis Tetch looked nearly taken aback. However, he wasn't discouraged. He put his hand on her shoulder, then gestured for the audience's pleasure, asking, "No? Are you being coy, my dear?"

"No…" Sylvia said quietly. "No…"

"Do you like me a little?"

"No…"

"Perhaps you do," Tetch said curiously, "but your heart is burdened by another."

"Or maybe you're just a terrible hypnotist," Sylvia returned with a small smile. Her smile disappeared as she closed her eyes, tightening them as though she was growing tired and needing to clear her vision. "I told you…I told you…" She gritted her teeth, grunting, "I…told…I told you!"

"Told me what, my dear?"

Something in her suddenly snapped. She blinked, and then smiled at Tetch. The smile reached her eyes.

"You tried hypnotizing me," Sylvia told him pointedly, "Tried to get me to fall in love with you. Didn't you, Mr. Tetch?"

"I have hypnotized you." Tetch announced. "You're hypnotized. Right now, in fact."

"You mean, I was." Sylvia hissed. She kicked him in the shins, adding, "You're a son-of-a-bitch, you know that. What the fuck did I tell you in the beginning, huh? I don't want any other man, deep down or otherwise."

Tetch rubbed his leg where she'd kicked him. The crowd laughed.

Instead of flying off the handle as he had expected her to do, Sylvia simply stood on the stage, waiting for him to gather his affect.

"You are the only person I know to have ever broken out of my spell," said Tetch, amazed.

"Well, I wish I could say the same. But you're not the first person who has tried to make me question the affection I have for my husband," said Sylvia satirically. "If you want to keep your show going, you're more than welcome to but I will not be a part of it."

She left the stage, followed shortly by Gabe who appeared concerned.

"I need a coke." Sylvia muttered, grabbing a can of Diet Coke from one of the bartenders, who quickly gave her one.

"Liv," Gabe began.

"I'm fine." Sylvia said shortly before heading out the back.