Thanks as always for the love, feedback, and favoriting! Hope the weekend's treating you well. As for me, any weekend where I get a chance to write is a good one. :)

(x)

Jim and Harvey followed behind the Captain's car as they drove into the outskirts of Gotham and through the wide iron gates of Arkham Asylum. They parked in front of a huge, imposing building, just one of many positioned across the large acreage that made up the sprawling grounds. As Jim stepped out of the car, he heard the faint caw of a crow and looked out onto the sparsely planted, leafless trees and acres of dead brown grass.

Madeline and Barnes joined them immediately. As they walked through Arkham's doors, they were met by a middle-aged man of Asian descent. His dark eyes held a sharp shine, and his smile reminded Jim of the type you often saw in favorite uncles and college professors, a smile that could understand almost anything and only judged when absolutely necessary. He shook their hands and made his introduction. "Hello, I'm Professor Strange. I've been working with Jack Buchinsky since his arrival a few months ago."

As they walked forward, Jim tried to ignore the piercing cry of an inmate who was either in the throes of laughter or letting off a cry of torture. He also tried not to imagine the face of the person doing the laughing or screaming. He tried, and he failed.

Jim put energy into focusing solely on the task at hand. Madeline said to Professor Strange. "I was surprised to hear he requested to speak with me."

Strange fell into stride beside them as they walked forward into the center of the building. "As was I. He hasn't mentioned you in any of our sessions."

She asked, "Is there anything I need to know about his treatment?"

He said, "I like to keep the patients' therapy as confidential as possible, as I'm sure you can understand. So much has been taken from them already. In many ways, the privacy of our sessions is all they have left."

Harvey looked at Jim and rolled his eyes.

"Of course," she said. "Any concerns I should know about? Outbursts? Threats? Suicidal or homicidal ideation?"

The professor shook his head, looking mildly surprised at the question. "No, he's been quite cooperative since his arrival. I understand from his chart that he's been involved in a number of criminal pursuits. He even escaped from this very facility after subjecting the patients here to experiments involving electrocution. But to me, he's seemed calm, talkative, even appropriate at times."

Harvey spoke up, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I guess it all depends on where you know him from."

Strange shot him a questioning glance, and Captain Barnes said, "Thank you, professor, for setting this up and allowing us to interrupt your schedule. We won't be long."

He smiled cordially and said, "He's waiting in the interrogation room down the hall. I have a session I need to attend myself or I'd stay with you."

Jim nodded a 'thank you' to him. "We'll take it from here."

With that, the professor took his leave.

(x)

As they reached the interrogation room, Madeline nodded to both guards who stood outside it, at their posts. Then she looked through the one way glass at Jack Gruber. He sat silently, appearing to enjoy his respite, looking as easy and comfortable as he might have on a city bus or sitting on a park bench. Upon closer inspection, she saw that a book sat on top of the table inside the room. She immediately recognized it as her own.

The Captain stood out of earshot, taking one last call on his cell phone. Harvey leaned in to whisper, though she was certain his partner could overhear. "You don't have to do this."

She stared up at him. "I know that. But I'm choosing to."

"There's no guarantee it'll lead to anything."

"Or it might," she said. "I'm not gonna bow out just because it's not a sure thing."

Madeline instantly regretted her wording. She had a gift for that. Calling out the white elephant in the room, whether she was in her office or outside it, whether she intended to or not.

Harvey seemed to forgive her for it, or more likely chose to stick to the matter at hand. "Look, Maddie, it's like what you say. Just because a decision's made doesn't mean you can't unmake it. You say the word, we shut this down. We were never here. Simple as that."

Maddie realized that if Harvey Bullock had become the voice of psychological reason that they were in uncharted waters indeed. But sometimes, more often than she admitted to herself or others, once a decision is made, the path is set. We walk it as if other paths are no longer available or never even existed at all. "I know my limits. And I know I might be asking the impossible here, but you gotta trust me."

They both heard the Captain snap shut his phone and walk back toward them. Harvey said, "Just so long as I can pull you out of that room if it goes South."

As if anything other than a force of nature would be able to stop him. When the Captain neared, she nodded to Harvey.

Barnes raised his eyebrows. "Dr. Scott, are you ready?"

She looked to each of the three men. "Anything I need to keep in mind?"

Jim said, "Just do your best to try to get him talking. He's not likely to share any specific information about what we're looking for unless-"

"It's his idea." Madeline shared a look of understanding with Jim. He managed a nod.

Harvey added, "You don't need to stay in there just because you're not getting something. You get a feeling like you need to leave, you get out of there."

No one argued with the advice. Madeline stepped forward. "Thank you, gentlemen. I'll see you shortly."

She could see no benefit in keeping Jack Gruber waiting.

(x)

It felt different, walking from outside the interrogation room to inside it. Nothing changed really, she supposed, except there were now no barriers between them, save for a flimsy metal desk.

Jack Gruber smiled, looking at her as if he happened upon a childhood friend in the middle of a busy sidewalk. "Dr. Scott."

She sat down. "Hello, Jack."

"It's hard to believe that you're actually here joining me in this room, sitting down across from me." A spark glistened in his eye. "Almost feels like a dream."

"Well, I assure you that this is very much reality."

"Ah, reality testing," he said, recognizing the psychological framework. "The chair's real. The floor's real. This table." He made a soft fist and reached across to tap the table, closer to her than she would have preferred. "Is real. It lends to the idea that therefore we must also be real."

Madeline stopped herself from saying aloud 'for really reals', as it would have no doubt cost her the entire interrogation.

Gruber added, "I remember that from our sessions. Also, I remember that your hair was lighter. Scarlet in color."

"It has been awhile," she agreed.

"Though to be fair age and time have been kind to you and had their way with me."

They sat, appraising each other or so she assumed on his part. He stared at her with unblinking eyes. She tried not to imagine what might be behind them.

Madeline broke the hot silence between them and motioned to the book sitting between them. "Doing a little light reading?"

He raised his voice. "When we're terrified, we learn to suppress and bury deep down what we cannot face. The past is alive in the form of gnawing interior discomfort. The whole world becomes filled with triggers, and this experience shapes the brain."

"I see you got to Chapter Three."

"I liked that part. I also liked what you said in your closing chapter about acceptance."

Madeline maintained the calm tenor of her voice, though it began to take effort. "Which part?"

"That acceptance is learning to tolerate feeling what you feel and knowing what you know. In my own way, I believe I've mastered that. Thanks to you." He nodded to the book. "I was hoping you might sign my copy."

"Let me get my pen."

Jack pushed the book gently toward her. She accepted it, opened the first page, and signed with a flourish. She tried not to think about his motivations for wanting it signed, as no answer would have been helpful to her and she couldn't read minds besides. She pushed the book carefully back to him.

Jack smiled. It sent a familiar shiver down her spine. "My memory isn't what it used to be. The circuits upstairs aren't always firing. But isn't this the part where you ask me how I feel?"

Maddie realized that Jack was treating her like an actress who had forgotten her line. How much had he thought about this interaction before now? She began to doubt that he'd simply reacted on a whim after seeing her appearance on local television. "Well, it certainly would be if this were a session." She shrugged, as if to say 'but I'll bite'. "I'd be interested to know how you're feeling if you'd like to tell me."

"I'm feeling…" He decided upon the word. "Impressed."

"Impressed."

"Yes," he said. "I tell the administration that I won't talk to anyone but you. They contact you. You join them. They bring you here. They stand outside while you visit with me, I assume. It all happens within the hour. I'm impressed at the speed with which this request was acquiesced. It assures me of something."

Madeline said, "That the police generally work in a focused, timely manner."

Jack found something humorous in her response. "No, no. To expend that much effort, to stop the machine and change course so quickly, tells me only one thing. I have something of value, and whatever that is, they must want it very, very badly."

"The question is," she said. "What do you have?"

"That is a good question. A better question would be, is it for sale?"

Madeline clicked her lips and said, "That answer sounds like it's outside my security clearance and skill set."

He searched her face. "Why, doctor, you're coy. Perhaps they did send you in here with an objective. I must admit, I'd be very curious to know what that objective might be."

Most people had at least one game they liked to play. For some it was cards. Others bet on the horses. Jack Gruber played mind games. His gaze seemed to be asking her, 'Do you want to play?' She didn't, but if she choose to anyway, could she win? "If I did know their objective, I'd only share it with you if I believed it would be beneficial to the police officers standing behind that door."

Jack's smile returned. "Ah, so soon we've reached a stalemate. Perhaps I can provide a compromise or rather a trade. For example, if you would be so kind as to answer my questions, I might kindly answer yours."

And there it was. All that was missing was a black and white checkered chess board set between them. "So there's a question you have for me?"

He seemed disappointed. Madeline figured it might have to do with her getting to business so quickly. Jack said, "There is. More than one. After our sessions ended, I was placed on... sabbatical. I wonder, did I ever come to mind for you afterwards?"

Remember, she reminded herself. You did choose to play. "You did," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's rare if I can't remember a client's name or face after I've seen them for a number of years."

Jack sat silently.

Maddie nodded. Apparently, it was her line. "You know about a 'bad chemical' that ultimately kills the person who takes it but not before they wreak some havoc first." She said it as a certainly just so that it wouldn't be counted as a question. "Who is drugging innocent people with this chemical?"

He smiled, wider, almost laughed. "A good question, doctor, but again, I have a better one. Where is the person who is drugging them?"

Maddie looked at him patiently, mimicking his response from before.

He continued. "That question I will answer. He…" He paused, knowing that just the pronoun would give them information. "Is working for a facility, a well known facility. He is working underground, literally. He is legally employed and well-funded. It's equal parts admirable and laughable that your escorts outside believe they could detain him." Jack motioned towards her with his face, as it was his only way to motion. "He is always recruiting. I wonder if he might even have an opening for an enterprising, experienced psychologist."

Maddie did her best not to feel sick. "Is that your next question?" she asked, as it was her turn. "Am I interested in being hired by this man responsible for these deaths?"

"No." He smiled, appreciatively. Like she'd forgiven him for breaking a rule in a board game. "Instead let me ask, what was your first thought when you heard that I requested to visit with you?"

She decided she did not care for his use of the word 'visit'. "How does he know I'm available? And if I go, will it benefit anything?"

"The more honest you are," he shared with her. "The more honest I can be in return."

She understood. "I became anxious about the idea of meeting with you, and I decided to..."

"Face your fear."

"To be of assistance."

Jack nodded, allowing it. After all, he'd gotten the answer he wanted. "Your turn, doctor."

She asked him. "What is the name of the man whose chemical is killing these people?"

"I had to fill in part of your last answer. You'll need to fill in part of mine. I'll give you his prolific. He is a doctor, a scientist studying the connection between the body and the mind. Much like you."

Relief at getting a piece of information disappeared when she realized Jack's next question was coming.

Jack said, "When I was removed from the general population and placed into solitary confinement, our sessions were quite suddenly… What's the phrase you doctors use? Terminated. It wasn't long until I began to wonder who alone was responsible for that decision."

Madeline had no idea when she started on the path that this is where it would lead. Unfortunately for her, there still was no deviating or turning back. She could only press onward. "No decision is ever made in a vacuum, Jack."

He clucked his tongue in disappointment, to imply that she wasn't playing fair.

She continued, "However, my professional opinion and the report I wrote building upon that opinion was ultimately the deciding factor in your placement in solitary."

Again he looked impressed. "Bravo, Dr. Scott," he whispered. "Now that I am certain of how desperately they need the things I know, I believe I'll need to speak with someone who can arrange a negotiation for any further information I may have." He continued, "Before when I thanked you for my transformation, I wasn't completely convinced that you were the one to thank. Now I know. If it wasn't for you, nothing of what I've become could have taken place. It would have been forever lost, buried deep underneath the layers that the years of solitude peeled away, one by one. And doctor…" He leaned in close. "Believe me when I say that I am eternally grateful."

The door opened so hard that it slammed against the wall. Harvey Bullock stood in the doorway. Harvey's face tensed with a narrow, watchful expression, the look of a dangerous animal ready to strike. He barked at Gruber, "Time's up, asshole." He eyed Maddie and said softly, "C'mon. Let's go."

Maddie looked to him, stood up, and moved away from the table.

Harvey kept his eyes locked on Gruber. "Do yourself a favor, don't waste your breath asking for a deal. You already gave us everything we need, slimeball. We're done here."

Jack brightened as he recognized Harvey. "Detective, do I have you to thank for arranging this meeting?"

He shot back. "Arranging this meeting in Arkham because we locked your sorry ass away? Yeah, sure thing. Have a nice life rotting behind bars, psycho."

Jack called after her, "See you soon, Dr. Scott."

With her back still turned, she said, "Good-bye, Jack."

The door closed behind them.