Shadow: And here's another one. Not a really interesting one in my opinion, but there needs to be time between what I have in store for Janice. It's going to be amusing for me to write, and awkward for her to go through. I'm sorry about the Riddler in this one, I'm not sure how to write him. He probably is out of character. Sorry again. WARNIG. Language. Croc cusses I'm afraid. I always viewed him as the cussing sort. Own nothing but Janice. And thanks for all the ones who reviewed. It makes me feel better about all this. And sorry if anything is odd with this, my Microsoft word is messing up so I will have to switch to a different word processor soon.
Chapter three
Today was going to be a bad day, she just knew it. It was one of those days where every little thing seemed to end badly. And it started early too. Janice had woken up around two in the morning to find out that her heating failed in the night, leaving her shaking and in need of more blankets. After that horrible wakeup call she missed her alarm and woke up forty minutes later than usual. And to add to that it was sleeting. Now here she was running through the asylum trying to make her first appointment for the day. At least it's not Croc. She shuddered. He was not one for tardiness if her last session with the man was anything to go by.
She had stayed up late last night typing up his newest info into the computer. She even added the video and audio to his electronic files. It took longer than it should have. The whole time she ended up stopping repeatedly to remember exactly how he acted at each moment, or what his motives could have been for each move across the board, or even how his eyes would light up when he had an idea. Honestly, the man was more fascinating than he had any right to be. And even more fearsome too. She was almost excited for her session with him tomorrow, she hadn't had such a good chess opponent in years.
Suddenly she stopped, realizing that she missed her door. Janice groaned. Even now he was distracting her. She turned on her heel, looking for therapy room 4A. Stop thinking about Croc! Focus on Mr. Nigma! He's the next patient! She wasn't looking forward to this. Ever since someone let the Riddler know about the uniform testing he had been more unstable than usual. Always demanding to know where he stood against the competition, arrogant even. He assumes that he scored the highest, and was taking her silence as confirmation. She really did want to tell him is score, but Warden Sharp didn't want the info getting out. All because they had a scaly genius.
Janice almost groaned when she found the right door, she really didn't want to be at work today. But she couldn't call in when she was already here. With a sigh she straightened her coat and felt her hair bumps, frowning when she realized she forgot to put it up. Too late now. With that she opened the door, drawing the attention of the guard inside and the patient.
"Your late," she almost winced at the tone. Looked like E. Nigma didn't like waiting on her either.
"I'm aware Mr. Nigma," She didn't say anything else, just shuffled over to her seat across from the brunette. She glanced up at him meeting his angry green eyes. He was glaring at her from behind his glasses, sizing her up. With a scoff he looked away, clearly not impressed with his doctor. She felt her lips thin at the insult.
"And what are you going to attempt to get me to talk about today Dr. Dials? My father again? Hmm? Perhaps my 'obsession' with winning?" he was mocking her again, like always. A nasty little smile on his face. At least with Croc she wasn't constantly being belittled about every little thing she did. No, stop it, calm down. Focus. She didn't like being mocked. She took out her pen, trying to find anything to distract her from her rising anger.
"No, how about we discuss why you feel it necessary to prove your superiority over everyone else," Janice bit back a cringe, not meaning it to come out so rude. Something about the guy just brought out her worst side. She looked him in the eyes, seeing how his vile green orbs narrowed at her in fury.
"I don't have to prove anything doctor, it's already quite obvious. Just take a look at my test score, I'm sure that would attest to my brilliance," he smirked at her. Daring her to say otherwise. Oh how I hate that arrogant! As a distraction she pretended to write something down, noticing how his eye twitched at her dismissal.
"I believe the reason you try to prove yourself so much is due to a lack of recognition as a child. Perhaps your father didn't pay enough attention or your teachers didn't give you the credit you felt you deserved?" She shouldn't of said that, even she thought the words stung. Too late now. Mr. Nigma gave her a look that could have melted ice with his anger. She long ago found that he was more likely to tell the truth if his composer broke or if he was mad. Or at least the truth from his point of view. But it didn't work if he was too angry.
"My teachers were nothing more than mindless lackeys trying to make my moron classmates get out of their class, and my father couldn't see true brilliance if it shot him in the HEAD!" He was standing at that point, his face red. She took notes, realizing that that was a touchy subject. Perhaps she was more on mark than she thought. The questioning continued for the rest of the session at a similar pace, him mocking her and her infuriating him. The guard had taken position at that point, grabbing the raging man by his elbow. She gave him a nod, giving him the green light to take him back to his cell. Once the Riddler was in a rage she could get nothing out of him.
Then it was just her in the small room, and she felt tired. Not physically, but mentally. That man had so many triggers it wasn't funny, and she had to side step all of them while riling him up safely. Janice placed her head in her hands and leaned back with a groan. Today was a bad day, and it was just starting. Gray eyes peeked at the clock on the white wall. She gave another groan. In twenty minutes she had another patient to work with. She couldn't wait for this day to end.
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Croc paced, rhythmic claws soothing his raging mind. Back and forth, forward and back again. He would deny it if asked, not that anyone would, but he knew what was wrong. To an extent. Today he was scheduled for a trip to the doctor, not his amusing coward, but a real doctor. The kind that poke and prod just because he was different. They think I'm just so fucking fascinating, like some kind of messed up lab rat. He growled.
He didn't like doctors, plain and simple. Never had.
He could practically feel his guards panicking on the other side of the door, and if he didn't calm down, they'd shoot him. Again. Not with a real gun but with one of those tranquilizers they favored so much. He hated the things, hated how woozy he felt afterwards and how he was so defenseless during it. Would rather be shot with real bullets. He had to calm down. But that was the problem. He didn't have anything to calm him.
Croc snarled, clenching his claws into his palm. He needed a distraction, a something to make him think. Like Dr. Dials. He stopped mid stride, startled by the thought. He didn't like where that thought could lead. There was no way he was going to depend of some bitch doctor to fix his rage. But even still he found himself thinking about his last session. He hated to admit it but she was… different, treated him different. Sure she feared him, only a moron wouldn't, but she still tried. Tried to act as if he was still human, and that damn test started it all. She had made a deal, with HIM, and kept it. Then did it again later with another test.
But the most interesting was that game. She had stopped smelling of fear, a scent that was so normal to him he had startled when it vanished. And the most damning of all was that he liked it when it was gone, not his usual amusement, no, something else. It had felt normal. Like two regular people playing a game, not a monster convict and his doctor, but just two people. Croc wasn't use to feeling normal, the most normal he felt was in a circus. And then only around a blind child. But Dr. Dials wasn't blind. Must be something wrong with her.
He snorted. How ironic that the only one to treat him human was a nut. An amusing nut. At least she wasn't like the Joker or Harley. Those two drove him mad, always with the croc jokes. And there not even original jokes either. He grimaced at the reminder. It seemed that every time he saw them they were worse, more insane. And the doctors still tried. He heard of Jokers last doc, hell the whole asylum knew. The guy had to be locked up like the rest of the freaks.
Suddenly he was broken from his thoughts by the door opening, revealing several armed guards ready to take him up top. He blinked, realizing he had stopped his pacing at some point in favor of staring at the wall. With a curl of his lips he went with the men, ready to get it over with. Can't believe I got distracted by her and she's not even here! Bitch.
Soon he was marched down the halls and into the elevator that barely fit him, putting a crick in his already sore neck. You'd think they would make something more suitable for him, he just knew he was stressing the weight limit on the thing. He figured he survive the fall, but not unscathed. Then he'd be trapped down there. His hands twitched at the thought. There was only one other guard in the room with him, ready to stop his ride if anything went wrong, while more waited for him at either exit. Gold eyes watched the smaller male, not recognizing his face. He made a habit of knowing his guards, just so he could come back later and kill them if they pissed him off. He already had a mental list of who he was going for first. They liked to shift the guards around so his list was pretty long. It wasn't recorded with names, no he knew them by scent and face. What was the point of naming his food?
The guard shifted, reaching for the remote just as Croc realized he was growling. He snorted, drawing a flinch from the man. More like boy. The elevator slowed to a halt, the doors slowly opening. Five more armed men waited, a few he recognized. With a grunt he pulled himself out of the metal box, breathing deeper with relief. He didn't like the elevator. It was too small. Once he was free they marched him away, a few having to jog to match his stride. Gold eyes rolled, not bothering to slow down. He knew where he was going, he didn't need to be led. They reached the doors out faster this way.
They opened and he breathed deeper, scenting the air. The cold bit into his front, reminding him of where he was weakest. But he didn't mind, it had been over a month since he last was outside. He might like the sewer, but even he got tired of the muskiness. He growled when the guards rushed him along, eager to get him inside. They didn't like him being in the open. Then came the sterile walls, the scent of alcohol making him sneeze. He almost laughed when the guards nearly jumped a foot in the air, only stopping because the smell burned. He could almost feel another sneeze coming.
Looking down he saw different doctors pointing and talking, clearing about him. He scowled. Bastards. Sensitive ears heard what they said, they wanted his blood, wanted to run him through machines. He felt his muscles stiffen at the words they said. Talking about him as if he wasn't even there, or maybe as if he didn't understand their words. His eyes narrowed with hate. He felt his rage building, a pressure wanting their death. He could practical feel his thoughts slowing with the rage, just like when the batfreak fought him. Then he smirked. No batfreak here though.
His thoughts stopped when he picked up familiar clicking, this time faster than he's heard before. Scenting the air proved his ears right. What was the bitch doing here? He blinked when she came running out of the double doors to his right, snorting when she bumped into him in her rush. She hit the floor hard, yelling a startling profanity. His brow lifted. Looked like Dr. Dials had a mouth on her. He chuckled lightly, only to laugh harder at her squeak. She finally noticed him. Gray eyes stared up at him with her mouth hanging open. Then he noticed something. Her hair, it was down. He never saw it down before, hell he didn't even notice it was red till now. It fell around her collarbone like a curtain of liquid copper, frizzy liquid copper. She scrambled to her feet, keeping her gaze locked on his. Then ever so slowly she edged back to the still swinging doors. Once out of grabbing distance she turned tail and ran, a high pitch scream echoing behind her. He guffawed at the looks the others threw her, startling the already freaked doctors and guards. It seemed that every time he saw her she was amusing him.
Shadow: again I'm sorry. The doctor scene is actually important for the story, but not what actually happens. So you don't have to read about what they do, though it's not much. Latter the results of his blood tests come in and have an effect on the story. Just try to guess what the results are. It's not much but I think it's highly possible and explains much of his behavior in the batman series. Happy Halloween? To those who celebrate it at least. Yay.