My first therapy session with the Joker went better than I expected, although it was still fairly uncomfortable (which I expected anyway). I scheduled a session with him that coming Tuesday, that way I could give myself enough time to prepare mentally for what I knew was going to be my greatest challenge to date.
Saturday came and went, and I barely heard from Derek during that day and partially into the evening (I had that weekend off), then we talked on Skype for a few hours. My day was mostly spent with Maxwell, and the most we did was watch movies on Netflix. I watched one called "The Purge," and it made me think of the Joker - it was something that could possibly be up his alley. Maybe he saw it before, and it could be something to talk about during our next session.
Are you crazy? The last thing you want to do is reinforce the madness.
Derek was supposed to come over on Sunday to spend the afternoon at my place. I was hoping it would give us both the chance to unwind, maybe sip a little wine, get a bit close... We never had sex, but we did other stuff. I was (almost desperately) hoping to take it to the next level with him, though I wasn't completely sure how he felt on the matter.
When Sunday came, I spent the better portion of the morning getting myself dolled up for him - I showered, shaved my legs and waxed the other places where I didn't want hair growing, and put on my favorite shade of pink lipstick. I studied myself in the mirror after I finished my makeup routine; I was a bit more curvy than slim, and I was a decent height compared to most of the women in my family (I was 5'6"). All in all, I wasn't horrible or anything, but I definitely saw more attractive women than myself on a regular basis, so there was definitely no reason for me to feel arrogant about my looks.
Right after I finished styling my hair, which reached the middle of my back and desperately needed trimming, my phone rang. It was a little after noon, and too soon for Derek to call.
Arkham my caller I.D. read.
Great... I thought.
"Doctor Morgan speaking," I answered as I set down my brush.
"Dr. Morgan, this is Dr. Young calling. I'm sorry to disturb you on your day off, but we need you to come in. Patient 4479 has become violent, and needs to be seen immediately. I would do it myself, but I'm not authorized."
Well... On the bright side, I can get back at Derek now for ditching our plans for yesterday.
"Of course. I'm leaving right now," I said as I left the bathroom, grabbing my work bag.
"Thank you, Dr. Morgan," and with that, she hung up.
I sent Derek a text letting him know what happened, and apologized (though I really didn't feel that horrible for canceling on him), then shut my phone off so I wouldn't have to deal with any repercussions right away.
I arrived at Arkham in about half an hour (rush time in Gotham was holy hell), and was greeted by Nicole.
"Whoa! Hot doctor in the house!" she teased as I put on my white coat.
"Ha ha," I said dully. "Dr. Young called about patient 4479, but didn't tell me what happened. Do you know anything about the situation?"
"Only thing I know is that Russell was supposed to be on patrol up there, and then an alarm went off and three guys including Bolton ran up there."
"That doesn't sound good. I'll try to fill you in if I can," I said quietly so nobody around us (only a few nurses, another guard, and a janitor) could hear.
"Ten-four," she responded. "Good luck."
I waved as I walked off, heading towards the therapy room where I was told my patient would be.
When I arrived, Lyle was standing outside the door just like the other day, only he looked more pissed than usual.
Oh, boy.
"About time," he said in a snippy voice. "Your patient has been nothing short of a nightmare the last couple days."
"What has he done?"
Lyle's crossed arms seemed to flex a bit, as he tensed up more than usual.
If someone were to shove a piece of coal up his ass right now, he'd shit out a diamond within a week.
"He's been hell-bent on getting his face paint back on, so he's substituting with whatever he can." He leaned down a bit (he had over half a foot on me), appearing more menacing than usual. "And when I say 'whatever he can,' I mean it."
"So... I was called in because he has his makeup back on?" I asked slowly.
"No. You were called in because the freak bit Russell's finger off."
Well, Russell is a dickhead who's been known to be a bit rough with patients in the past. I can't say I fully blame him.
Would you listen to yourself? You're defending a murderer!
I feigned disgust (I was secretly amused. He really was a dick) and covered my mouth.
"Why did he do that?" I asked in my best shocked voice.
"No idea. He's refusing to speak to anyone but you, Doctor," he sneered.
I didn't say anything else, already feeling annoyed with Lyle since he was a Grade A douche in general. I knew how he felt about women in the work place, so I gave him as little of my time as possible.
I entered the room and saw a more familiar face than the last time it greeted me - he had his full makeup on, and his hair appeared cleaner than the last time I saw it, so I assumed a few nurses had to wrestle him into a tub within the last couple days.
Why do I want to see that...
"Good afternoon," I greeted as the door shut and secured itself behind me.
Joker looked up, lips gleaming a darker red than his past look. I saw his permanent smile widen.
"Well, hello there," he said, wiggling in his straight jacket, keeping his eyes locked on me. "Did you make sure you were primped for this meeting, too? I must say, you look ravishing, Doc."
I blushed. It wasn't every day you were complimented by a sociopath in clown makeup.
"Pink looks nice on you, but I think you'd look much better in red..."
"Speaking of makeup, how'd you manage all of this?" I asked, gesturing towards his face.
"Well, for the eyes I stole some shoe polish," he started, reclining his head back a bit. "I managed to get some baby powder from Crane -" he paused. "At least, I think it was baby powder... But nobody around here would give me lipstick. Shoe polish and baby powder come easy, but lipstick?"
Imagine that...
"That guard with the dumb look-"
"Bolton?" I asked a little too quickly, earning a slow laugh from him, which quickly escalated into a loud, hyena-type howl.
"The ape," he said, his voice suddenly turning angry, stripped of all amusement. "No, no... The other one with the high-pitched voice."
"Russell?"
"Yeah, him. Well, he manhandled me for the third time since I've been here, and y'know... I really don't enjoy monkeys like that putting their hands all over me, so I bit his finger off. Now my look is complete!" He grinned again, suddenly seeming a little perkier, though the emotion almost looked forced.
Jesus christ... On one hand, I'd like to praise him for doing something about that turbo dickhead, but on the other, that'd be against the rules.
"You can't bite off peoples' fingers, Jo-" I frowned from almost saying his alias.
"Even the ones who deem it necessary to be rough with me when I've been behaving?" He wiggled in his seat. "Y'know, I was hoping to be out of the shackles the next time I saw you." He sighed.
Fat chance, I thought.
Then it sunk in that he had another man's blood on his mouth. I did my best to hide my cringe.
"Are you likely to do this again if we strip you of your makeup again?"
"Uh... Duh," he said, licking his lips.
I shuddered at the thought of the copper taste on his lips.
"I'll see what Dr. Arkham has to say... Perhaps we can work something out."
Yes. Let's cater to his madness.
He grinned. "Let's hope so. Otherwise, their dear Russell still has nine fingers left for me to work with."
He could do that anyway if he wants. I wouldn't be too upset.
"Are the rest of the guards treating you fairly well?"
He wiggled a bit more in his straight jacket, then managed to get one arm free to stretch. At that point, I assumed he'd been free since before I came into the room, and hoped that him not lashing out at me meant that he had no intention on harming me... that time, anyway.
"There are a few I'd like to introduce to some of my... dear friends," he said quietly, voice very low. "A couple walk past my cell and make it a point to peep into the window to look at me like I'm some sort of bear in the zoo. Them I don't like, either."
He has a good reason, I can't deny that.
"The others don't even look at me, or say hello. I don't really care."
"If I get the opportunity to speak to Dr. Arkham, I'll let him know how you're being treated and will see what can be done about that."
He smiled at me, appearing to be satisfied.
"How kind of you, Doc."
"I think that should be enough, now. No more biting fingers?" I asked as I stood up.
"No more biting fingers," he repeated, putting his arm back into place.
I collected his paperwork and pushed my chair back in. I suddenly felt his hand come out and roughly grab my wrist. I did my best to not let out a small scream.
"My offer still stands," he said, licking his lips as he stared up at me through his wavy locks. "Feel free to visit any time... Lainey." He laughed quietly as he released me.
I cleared my throat and straightened myself.
"As tempting as that sounds... No, thanks. I will see you on Tuesday, at one o'clock. I trust you'll do your best to behave yourself until then."
His arms went back into straight jacket position; he stared up at me with an innocent look.
"I give you my word."
As I left the hospital, I turned my phone back on, only to be greeted with five texts from Derek.
From Derek:
Ok
Received:
Sun, May 5 12:14 PM
From Derek:
I was thinking... U really shouldn't hound at me about canceling our plans for stuff when u are doing the same thing
Received:
Sun, May 5 12:28 PM
From Derek:
Maybe next week will work for us
Received:
Sun, May 5 12:58 PM
From Derek:
?
Received:
Sun, May 5 1:19 PM
From Derek:
Text me when you're done
Received:
Sun, May 5 1:36 PM
I replied to let him know I was done and going home. It was well after two, and there was still plenty of daylight left. I invited him over again, and he accepted my offer (although, after that second text, I really should've just ignored him for a while).
Let's see how this goes...