Disclaimer: All characters belong to DC, with the exception of Magda, Jim, and Danny. I'm starting to hit a wall in my writing. I hope I get some inspiration soon. Any positive comments? Please tell me, I think I might need it.

I woke up in my bed with nobody in the room except Jim guarding the door. "Hey kid, how you feeling?" He grabbed a cup of water from the nearby dresser. My throat was on fire. He held the cup to my lips and I drank what I could. Each gulp went down painfully. He had a kind tone, "There you go. I need you to try and speak. We need to make sure those vocal cords are still working." I manage to let out a couple low and unintelligible words. "That's good kid. Don't say anything else." His eyes looked worried. "I think we need to get you to a doctor." I pointed over to my bag on the floor. He cocked an eyebrow, "Is there something you need?" I waved my hand in the air furiously, and he brought it over. I sat up slowly and rifled through the bag until I found the card. I handed it to him. "Doctor Leslie Thompkins? Sure kid. Sounds like a good idea." I gave him a weary smile.

He carried me like a broken doll in his arms. My backpack was slung over one of his beefy arms. All eyes were on us as he carried me to the van outside. Every man seemed to be in aw that I was still alive. Over in the furthest corner of the room, I saw Harley intensely having a conversation with the Joker. When he saw Jim his attention shifted and I caught a fierce look from him. Harley's hand managed to turn his face back to her as he listened dispassionately. I buried my face in Jim's chest and just wanted to hide. He put me in the passenger seat and strapped me in, and we were on our way to see the doctor.

When we arrived I fought him a little to indicate that I could walk on my own. I put the backpack on and we entered the small building. The clinic was filled with poverty stricken people in need of medical attention, but there also were the usual bad eggs. The people only looking to score some pain killers or anything stronger. Jim brought me back a clipboard and pen, and I proceeded to fill out what little there was to identify myself. He took it back to the front desk, and we began that tedious waiting process. That damn clock on the wall moved so slow. Patient after patient went in and came out. By four o'clock the room had emptied, and finally my name was called. Jim followed behind me. I was taken to a large room filled with beds, each one with a curtain for privacy. Jim stood outside of it as I dressed into a medical gown, and we waited for the doctor.

The room was quiet except for the few people with severe enough injuries to be held here overnight. The door swung open and I heard a female voice. She was obscured by the curtain. "Thanks for stopping by Bruce. It's always nice to see your face." The shadow of the short lady leaned into the shadow of a man. This man was tall and from the side he had a muscular build, more athletic but nothing as big as Jim.

His voice sounded light hearted when he spoke. "Don't forget to cash that check tomorrow. I'm happy to help anyway I can." His arms went around her in a light embrace. They seemed to be close, like old friends. After he left, I could see her silhouette come over to us. The curtain revealed a lady in her late fifties, graying hair, brown eyes behind glasses, and a kind demeanor.

"Miss Magda McGuire?" I shook my head yes. She looked over at Jim, then back to me. "Is he your guardian?" I shook my head yes, and Jim piped up.

"Well, not exactly Doc, but I guess I'm the closest thing to one." He tried to give her a smile. It seemed like she didn't like the way he looked.

"Could you please go out to the waiting area for a bit. For doctor-patient confidentiality. I will come get you when we are done." She stared daggers at him.

He got up and left before saying, "Sure thing. And Doc. She can't exactly speak. So if you had a pencil and paper…" She cut him off.

Raising the clipboard, "I can read sir. Don't worry." Her glare softened a little, and he left closing the curtain behind him. When his footsteps had disappeared, she handed me a notepad and a pencil. "He didn't do this to you did he?" I shook my head no. She sat down on the bed beside me. "So your eighteen, and an orphan. You know we get a lot of those around here." Her tone turned hostile, "I wish the mayor would look more into how things are handled in that institution." She reverted back to calmness and with a laugh, "If only I could get Mr. Wayne to adopt them all."

I looked at her questioningly and wrote down, "Was that the man who was here a minute ago?"

"Why yes. Mr. Bruce Wayne. One of Gotham's most richest heirs and an old friend. He's already adopted a couple boys. Richard turned out to be a perfect gentleman, but Jason seems to be a little harder to control." She shook her head and changed the subject. "But that has nothing to do with you now does it." She looked at the board more closely. "You were choked and blacked out." She took a pen light out of her pocket and motioned for me to open my mouth. She examined the inside of my throat, and tenderly felt around the outside of my neck. "It looks like you have some severe inflammation around your larynx. Your very lucky it wasn't much worse."

My mind drifted to Harley with the bat. She saved my fucking life. "I can put you on an anti-inflammatory and you should be fine in a couple days. There might be some bruising around the neck, which is common." She placed a hand on mine. "You can tell me who did this to you." I hesitated. Her voice got low, "We help people who aren't just poor or homeless. If your a victim of gang violence, you can tell me." Tears welled up in my eyes. Her eyes turned to my arms. The bruising from Crane's experiment was almost gone, but a lingering of light browns and yellows was still visible. She stretched out my arm, and looked closer. In a hushed voice, "What the.." She began looking me all over, and found the almost healed scar on my chest. "You poor thing. Tell me who did this to you!" My hand shook, but I knew I had to tell someone.

I wrote down very plainly, "Neck=Joker. Arms=Scarecrow. 18 doses. 24 hours. Chest=Zsasz." When she read this her eyes got wide.

"God almighty child." The tears dripped down my face as my horse voice tried to produce a sobbing sound. She held me close, until my crying stopped. "Your staying the night. I'm not letting that brut take you back to wherever you came from." She got up and went to get him. He was a bit dumbfounded when she finally put him in front of me. "Say your goodbyes Mr.."

"Jim. My names Jim."

She cocked and eyebrow in annoyance. "We are keeping her under observation for the night."

He looked panicked. "Mags! You can't stay here. The boss. The boss will…" She cut him off again with venom in her voice.

"Will what Jim? Beat her? Choke her?...Kill her? Tell your boss if he would like to show his face he can come and pick her up in two days. And which boss is it?" She grabbed the notepad from my hands and shoved it into his chest. "Joker? Scarecrow? Zsasz?" He looked at what I wrote but was unable to get out a word before she shoved him out of the room. "Get out of my clinic!" He exited, and she came back in and cooed, "Lay down and get some rest honey. I'll be in with an IV shortly. Your safe here." The rest of the night was quiet and peaceful. I slept good, but was woken up in the middle of the night when I heard a familiar voice whisper my name.

"Mags? Mags is that you?" The dim light from the windows cast a shadow on a guy. He was pushing around his IV bag with him. He sat beside me on the bed and when he was close enough my eyes knew who he was. It was Danny. His dark blond hair was unkempt and stubble covered his jaw. "We really have to stop meeting like this." I gave him a weak smile and pointed to the pitcher of water on the tray table. He grabbed me a glass of water and handed it to me. I eagerly drank the whole glass, and most of the pain of swallowing had gone.

I attempted to speak, but all I could manage was a whisper. "Hand me that notepad and pencil." He found it laying on the side table and gave it to me. I scribbled down, What are you doing here?

He gave a quiet laugh, which turned into a cough and said, "I could say the same about you." He lifted up his gown and revealed a gauze pad covering a spot just above his hip. "Bullet wound hun. Clean in and out." He looked too proud. "And they managed to miss any major organs." Letting the gown fall back down, he was quick to lean in and place a kiss on my forehead. When he pulled back I could see the concern in his eyes. "Your turn. Why am I seeing you again...here?"

I wrote down, Check the chart for yourself. After reading that he reached over to the end of the bed and picked up my chart. He read over it with sorrow in his eyes, then placed it back in its rightful spot. His hand lifted up my chin and glided over the bruising on my neck.

"You should have came back with me that night. I should have been more instistant." Fury rose from his eyes. "Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn?" I placed a hand on his near my cheek and nuzzled into it. He pulled me close and whispered in my ear, "You can't keep doing this. When anger rises, think of the consequences." I pull away abruptly and shoot a seething glance.

Pushing his hand away, I jot down quickly, It wasn't about my anger this time. I'm dealing with a psycho Dan. I threw the notepad down and inhaled deeply. He read my message then reached in the stroke my hair.

His pleading eyes needed answers. "Calm down. Walk me through everything. The chest scar I was there for, but the arms and throat? Just give me something to go on."

I got close to him and whispered my story. I told him about my encounter with Crane and how I faced my fear of death by Zsasz's hand. He stopped me before I could go on.

"You could have came to me for the money. I mean, going to him...do you have a fucking deathwish? Everyone knows people don't just meet the guy and live to tell about it. Do you know how fucking lucky you are?" I gave a slight nod of the head in acceptance. His voice wavered, "Jesus Mags! What else?" I told him about the night Harley was in the hallway crying. How by morning I was staring down a vicious beast bent on choking the life from me. Because I showed compassion to his property. He leaned in and held onto me. "You aren't going back there after this are you?"

I reached for the notepad and pencil again. I wrote down, I have to, I can't just go into hiding. He sat up and read what I wrote, "But I told you. You can come with me. I'm sure Mr. Falcone would understand. You'd be safe." I scribbled down, But for how long? I can't hide forever. I'm not going to back down! He read again and became irritated, "What is with you? Do you have fucking stockholm syndrome?" My face turned into a grimace. I took my hand and brushed it from under my chin outwards with a flick of the wrist. A good old "No, fuck you" in terms I knew he'd recognize.

I pointed to my backpack, and he grabbed it for me. I opened it up and the files spilled out onto the bed. I whispered, "I have a plan." He gave me an odd look, then I heard a sound from beyond the doors. I quickly got up and walked quietly over to them. I swore I heard light footsteps, maybe even the woosh of some fabric. When I opened the door to the waiting room, no one was there. Just empty chairs, and an empty office desk. I went back to my bed, and started to tell Dan my plan.

AN: I'm hoping I can keep up this weekly pace. I've started RPing on some writing websites to get ideas, but things aren't sticking. If you know about any websites that are out there, please let me know. Or if you have any ideas of where I could go next, just PM me the idea. Always looking for fan support. Thanks for reading!