Sorry if it's been a bit while since I updated! I hit a bit of a writer's block :( Hopefully you guys are still interested in reading? I will try to update at the very least every week, but I think that now I've got most of the background info down it will be a lot easier to write and updates will be more frequent!

Four days.

96 hours.

5760 minutes.

345600 seconds.

That was how long she had gone without eating. Sure, she hadn't had the greatest home life, and had gone for long periods of time without eating before, but never this long. Red had refused to even let her out of her cell, except for the nightly shower with the other inmates

"Have you given up, Kitten?" he asked every night, and every night she spat in his face.

To dull her hunger pains, she had taken to drinking as much water as she could out of the faucet in her room. She was sure the grey water wasn't sanitary, but by the second day she was much too hungry to care. For three seconds- three heavenly seconds, after she finished drinking she felt immensely full. But then the hunger returned, and it felt as if her stomach was eating her from the inside out.

Gandhi was 74 when he fasted for three weeks. She wondered if he had felt as horrible as she did after four days.

On Friday she was feeling very light headed and faint. She kept imagining she heard the voice of a baby crying down the hallway. The rational part of her brain told her she was just hallucinating, but still she felt the desperate need to comfort her. Yes, she was sure the baby was a girl. How do I know that? she wondered. A voice in her head whispered the answer, but she brushed it away. The answer was too painful to think about.

"317!" A rough, masculine voice drowned out the infant's calls.

No, she though urgently. I need to find her.

But then she was being shaken awake by the guard. "I said move girl!"

She sat up from her bed and stood up on unsteady legs. All the blood rushed from her head and for a second her vision turned black, but she managed to steady herself on the bed post.

"Let me escort her, Bradley," said a man in a sly, persuasive voice.

The orderly grunted in agreement, and a calloused hand grabbed her bare arm and pulled her out of her cell and through the ward. Harley looked out of her cell in concern, and Ivy in indifference. But Elena didn't notice either of them. They walked down the grey passage, and the baby's cries seemed to grow more faint with every step they took. She tried to pull free from Red's grip to go back towards the sound, but she was too weak from lack of nourishment and he easily overpowered her.

"Now, now," he said. "You're going to see the Doc. And as long as you keep what's going on between us our little secret, all will be fine."

Red pulled a box of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket, and took a long drag. The smoke made her nauseous, bringing back awful memories that she had thought she had forgotten. She had the insane urge to smack the roll from his mouth and crush it under her shoe, but she knew she'd never get away with it. He slowly exhaled smoke in her face, and she held her breath. Realizing he would not get a reaction from her, he took his badge from his pant pocket and swiped it to open the set of metal doors. After a long walk, they reached their destination, and were standing in front of an imposing, wooden door. In gold letters, it read "Dr. Jonathan Crane, M.D."

She allowed Red to move closer to her and place his hand on her shoulder. Without him noticing, she reached into his pocket. "Remember what I said," he hissed, squeezing her shoulder. Then he knocked on the door.

"Come in," Crane called, and Red pushed the door open as Elena hastily extracted her hand and dropped the stolen lighter in her dress pocket.

"Mr. Williams, next time you need to smoke, kindly do so in the yard," said Crane.

Red muttered something, annoyed at being caught, and quickly left the room, the door slamming behind him.

"Miss Moretti," said Dr. Crane, sitting at a large, mahogany desk at the end of the room. "Please sit." He gestured to an uncomfortable looking wooden stool in front of his desk. Though she was exhausted from her walk there, she took her time sitting down, making sure to show no outward sign of weakness. She looked much paler since the last time he saw her, but she still had the same fierce look in her grey blue eyes.

"Why am I here?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

"On Monday I told you of our appointment," he replied condescendingly.

"Right," she said, rolling her eyes.

Leaning towards her, he folded his hands in front of him and studied her through his glasses. "I trust your stay here has been to your satisfaction?"

"Oh sure. Who needs the Hamptons when you've got Arkham?" she answered sarcastically.

"Then you wouldn't mind answering a few questions?" he asked.

"As long as you don't mind answering a few of mine," she said sweetly.

"Miss Moretti, you are clearly unaware of how doctor- patient interactions function."

"As are you," she shot back as her stomach cramped uncomfortably. "Otherwise you wouldn't insult me every time we meet."

"How have I insulted you today?" he asked, an infuriating smirk appearing on his pale face.

"Asking how my stay is going." Especially since he knew of her no-food situation.

"I was merely being polite. Perhaps you should try the same?"

Elena scoffed at this.

"I'll take that as a no. Shall we start?" he asked, pulling out the same black briefcase he had when he first interviewed her.

"Perhaps not," she replied, standing up suddenly. "I'd rather- "

But then her head started spinning again, and she could hear her blood rushing. Her vision darkened and she hastily tried to grab something to steady herself, but her hand slipped and she felt a sharp pain in her wrist before collapsing on the floor.

Jonathan Crane was more than annoyed with this turn of events. He had been looking forward to his appointment with his new patient, and had planned on using the latest version of his toxin on her, if it had not been for the orderly Mr. Williams. He had been unaware that the man had seen fit to deprive the girl of food, and as a result, she had passed out. He couldn't dose her now- it would skew the data results. However, the day wasn't totally lost. He had a better idea of what he would do with her.

Look, she's waking up, the voice inside his head hissed.

"What the hell," she remarked sleepily. Elena slowly sat up from the black leather couch and was startled to see him staring at her intently from a chair opposite her. He set down his lab notebook on the coffee table between them and opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him.

"What did you do to me?" she asked accusingly.

"Nothing." Her eyes narrowed in familiar mistrust. He needed leverage, he realized, so reached into his suit pocket and extracted a granola bar. "When was the last time you ate, Miss Moretti?" He saw her pupils dilate in craving, and he knew he had her.

"What do you want from me?" she countered. Her hand twitched as she resisted the urge to simply grab the food from him.

His smirk widened, giving her the impression that he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Only that you consent to come to my office, and speak with me each day for the next month or so."

See him every day for an entire month?

"Hell no."

"Well, if that is truly what you want, Miss Moretti," he said, his hands up in surrender as he moved to pocket the granola bar in his jacket.

"What is it you want to know anyways?" she said quickly, not wanting the snack to leave her sight for a second in fear it may disappearing for good.

"What any psychologist would want to know. Your interests, hopes, dreams… family."

That word stopped Elena's heart. It hung in the air like a lurking bat in the dark of a cave. The fear she felt overwhelmed her, filling her gut more completely than any meal ever would.

"Why would you want to know about a man like that?" Tacitly, they both knew who she was talking about.

"What kind of doctor would I be if I did not make the effort to get to know my employer?" He lowered his voice as he spoke. When she had first met him he had seemed conceited, rude, and cold- but now he seemed something else entirely. Dangerous- that was the word for it.

"Read about him in the papers, that's a good of a place as any."

"I have, everyone in Gotham has. But you," he said, now leaning towards her, "Lived with him for sixteen years."

"Why don't you tell me what kind of shady business my uncle has you involved in."

He chuckled softly. "Now that is above your pay-grade."

She was tired of playing his stupid game, and her words cut straight to the point. "So what are you offering me, exactly?"

"In return for my… protection during your stay in Arkham, you will tell me everything that you know, and answer any question I ask, no matter how distasteful or aggravating you may find it."

"Protection?" she asked skeptically. Dr. Crane wasn't exactly the most muscular guy in Gotham. He could be intimidating, she gave him that, but he lacked the physical strength to pose any real threat. Or so she thought.

"Yes, you will have food, water, medical care," he said lazily.

"I have a right to all those things. I'm in a hospital for crying out loud!"

"Miss Moretti, you really are in no position to make any bargains."

"My mistake. Why don't you go ask the other mental patient in your care that will give you all the answers you need to know?"

His mouth twitched in annoyance, seeing she wouldn't be bribed so easily. "What do you want then?"

"Well, in addition to everything you just offered me," she replied smugly, "I would like books, decent shampoo, and really anything that strikes my fancy."

"Within the realms of possibility, of course," he added.

"Of course," she repeated with all the fake enthusiasm she could muster.

"Well then, it's a bargain," he stated, holding out his hand.

Still suspicious of him, she hesitantly grabbed his hand in hers. They were rough, very unlike what she had expected a psychiatrist's hands to feel like. And cold. With a start, she realized she had held on too long and let go quickly, as if he had just burned her.

"Fine." In one deft movement, she grabbed the granola bar from him and ate it. It tasted like victory.

"I'll tell you all you want to know about the bastard that is Falcone tomorrow."

Don't worry, Red has it coming! Elena will make sure of that. Also, did I make it clear enough in the chapter? But yeah, Falcone's her uncle.