I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. This is the longest chapter I've ever done. Over 7,000 words! But it couldn't be avoided darlings.
When i first read the The Killing Joke comic, i loved the lyrics to Looney, but after hearing the podcast of it from Gonzoplanet (you can itunes/youtube it) I love how they had Joker sing it. REALLY wanted to incorporate it in my story.
Well, read on. Let's see what Joker and Harleen will do next..
Applause. Applause..? No one had ever given him applause before.
His head rose a little, eyes lit with amusement boring into the baby blues of the little blond doctor, whom no one took seriously. Her smile was white and bright as she stopped clapping and walked closer to the glass.
"Why thank you, my dear! I do so love when an audience appreciates my works," he said grinning, standing up and leaning against the glass again, arms and ankles crossed. The doctor pulled the earplugs out of her ears. She looked around then back at his white face.
"You're welcome Mr. J. Uh.. why did everyone else stop singin' when I came down and not the others?" she asked.
"Oh that's simple, really. You surprised them," Joker winked at her, making her cheeks stain pink. Her accent was slipping more and more these days.
She smiled, tilting her head as she spoke, "I find it hard to surprise the residents of Maximum Security." The statement was met by a round of laughter, not just from the Joker, but from the other surrounding cells. It startled her at first. Where she was used to hearing Joker's boisterous laugh, the soft roll of light and low chuckles reverberating off the walls and cells sounded a bit chilling, but oddly still comical. Even Joker's reaction hadn't been as loud as usual.
"Oh, indeed it is. We don't spook easily you could say. Unless you count Mr. Potato Head himself," Joker agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully for a moment, almost like an expression a professor would have considering something interesting. But the muscles in his face immediately relaxed into a more contemplative stare. He didn't look at her, more through her, through the walls, through the asylum, through Gotham. As if he were seeking something just beyond his sight.
"Although," he continued, his eyes still distant, "there have been rumors of monsters through these halls... you won't know until it's too late." His expression was dark, he knew. He could feel his eyes narrow at the nothing he was looking at. His breathing became slow and deep the way a predator in the wild does to go unnoticed. It was times like these, rare as they were, that he felt closest to sanity. He hated that feeling, it did nothing for him. Sanity was a horrible weight stacked upon one's shoulders, crippling them into an ugly, deformed person with a warped sense of values and meaning. The morality of sanity disfigured so many in the world, it was unacceptable! It disgusted him.
"M-mister J?" A small, timid voice brought his thoughts back to where he was. He was in his cell at the asylum in front of an intern who was as useful as nipples on a batsuit. The thought made him smile. Who would ever be stupid enough to do that?
"Where was I, my dear?" The fog clearing from his eyes and returning with the joyful madness he was known for.
"Potato head and monsters..?" she half-asked-half-answered.
"Oh yes! Even ol' John-boy who was a doctor like yourself opened his eyes and saw that the real problem wasn't us, it was society. They all think we're monsters here but we're not! We see the world differently, a special perspective. They think you're special too, just like I do!" he exclaimed, his arms opening wide as if showing her the entire asylum in its unity.
"We know when people aren't special, and when they are. We see things most normally don't. Do you ever feel that way doc, hmm? Come on, you can tell me!" He leaned in cupping his hand to his ear, smiling at her, his eyes roaming her face slowly.
Joker just stood watching her face play a series of thoughts. She seemed worried, then panicked, then confused, then.. aroused? Confusion again. Saucy minx, this one. So it seems the doctor did have the questionable mind he loved to break, but there was more. His doc also thought she had an ownership over him. My Joker. Yes, those were the words she had written. Then he stood up straight his eyes full of accusation, like he didn't know what he was looking at. His abrupt movements made her glazed eyes clear and alert once more, looking at him with concern.
She had laughed and applauded his genius, she gave concern for all the crazies around here, but why? All the words on that notepad, poorly hidden he might add, came rushing to the front of his memory.
"Mr. J?" she asked again reaching a hand out toward the glass, but it was as if she meant touch him.
He just stared at her. No one ever showed concern for him. Except when concerned for their own life, which normally did them no good. But she was concerned about him. Why? No one in this society ever cares for others. Unless they want something in return.
He crossed his arms and walked backwards from the glass to back wall of his cell, keeping his eyes on her. He could hear the elevator moving, meaning all the staff were coming down now that the singing had stopped.
"Better get back to your job, doc, wouldn't want anyone thinking you're up to no good," he sneered, his smile taking on a threatening curl.
Her hand falling back to her side, she took a step back. She had a saddened expression, like a puppy told to go lay down. Steps were heard coming down the hall toward them in a quick almost frantic rhythm. With a final sad wave, she turned and headed toward the staff.
Better play this carefully, ol' boy. Don't want to give her the notion that she's important.
He returned to his cot putting his back against the wall and propped his legs up. The nurses and other staff members he didn't recognize started removing untouched breakfast trays and guards looked around cautiously at the patients. They were all being unusually quiet, he supposed. Most mornings were filled with screams, mumblings, and random chatter.
A brunette woman stood a few feet away from his cell door. She clasped her hands nervously in front of her, looking around for anyone who might be able to approach Joker's cell instead of her, but everyone else was busy. He kept his eyes on the wall opposite him, but he could still see her in his peripherals. She was trembling.
The small white sneakers she wore edged their way closer to him. Her hands hugged the hideous salmon pink sweater closer around the ugly off-blue uniform dress she had on. She got down on her knees to reach the tray of cold eggs that was just barely pushed into the small slot at the bottom of the cell door. Chancing a glance at the Joker, she slowly reached her hand into the cell but stopped as a voice made her pale instantly.
"Please... allow me."
He was there in front of her before she could open her mouth. He crouched down and gently pushed the tray into her hand. Her eyes rose in terror and she seemed unable to move. Up close he could see a hair net keep her hair in order and a small black name tag was pinned on. BETH.
"Well, pleasure to meet you too, Beth," Joker remarked in a low voice as if she had introduced herself.
Beth continued stared at him, almost unbelieving. The color in her face drained even more, sweat breaking out all over. Her mouth opened and moved to speak but no sound came out. She jerkily nodded her head in response instead. She quickly gathered the tray, nodded again, and hastily took off down the hall looking over her shoulder as if she thought he may be following.
He returned to his cot and laid down on his back this time. His head felt unusually empty of thought, which was quite unlike him! Even on a slow day, his mind could be a wide range of thoughts and schemes from poisoning a group of fashion models with his laughing gas to making an exploding whoopie cushion to put in the batmobile. Hey, that's not half bad. Needs some work, but it's a rough sketch. Bats would appreciate the thought!
Thunk, thunk, tink! Thunk, thunk, tink!
Someone with a heavy step and a cane was coming down. A cane? Joker cracked a smile as Warden Sharp walked in front of his cell and stopped. With one hand kept behind his back, the other firmly gripped on his walking cane pointed outward, the pomptous idiot stared him down with as much authority as he could muster. It was a wasted effort. The stern knitted brow had sweat forming on it and the disapproving frown looked more like a grimace from a bad smell.
"My dear Sharpie.. To what occasion am I honored?" Joker asked, cynical tone not lost on the Warden.
"That's Warden Sharp to you, Joker. You've been told many times." The Warden scolded. He might as well have wagged his finger at the him. "However, you're lack of respect isn't why I'm here. It's about this morning. What exactly happened down here? Why were you all singing?"
Joker rolled his head upward to look down his nose at the Warden. He'd be damned if he let him think he was in charge.
"Oh come on, Ol' Sharpie. Don't you ever sing to yourself? At home? In the shower? In the car? It's to make oneself feel better! Therapeutic the doctors say. At least I think that's what they say, I don't pay much attention. But I do see the funny side to it. Surely you can understand, it's a great way to forget about one's troubles.. a way to escape, you could say." Joker laughed at the last part, sitting up and crossing his legs. He challenged the Warden's eyes with his own.
Warden Sharp took a step forward, both hands pressing down on his cane now in front of him. His black wide brim glasses flashed once in the light as he did.
Bowing his head a little as to look Joker straight in the eyes he questioned warily, "Is that a threat, Joker? Are you threatening to breakout?" He barked the last word at him, temper clearly winning over composure.
Joker bounced up on his feet, putting an offended hand to his chest, looking around his cell as if others were the to witness his upset. "Now, why would I do a thing like THAT? You wound me, sir! And after all the cooperation I have been so obligingly giving to my new doctor," he commented, sitting on the end of his cot, "well, that's just goes to show what a nice guy I am."
Taking a deep breath knowing much more wouldn't come from the Joker, nothing positive anyway, Warden Sharp turned back toward the hall to exit leaving once last comment before he walked off.
"Do remember that we are trusting you, Joker. It isn't alot of trust, but we do have YOUR best interests in mind. If you choose to challenge that trust, it will be taken away from you. Permanently."
With that the Warden walked off again, deliberately slower as if to show 'I run things'. Joker's glare followed him with malicious intent. Chatter and shouts started back up in the wing.
"Soon Sharpie... your time will come soon," Joker mumbled under his breath. The good Warden would have to wait his turn if the plans already in motion were to go right.
He eyed the maniacal patient in front of him. The thing responsible for so much pain and death. It revolted him to his core to not do away with this man once and for all. He turned away, unable to look at the monster before him any longer.
"Do remember that we are trusting you, Joker. It isn't alot of trust but we do have YOUR best interests in mind. If you choose to challenge that trust, it will be taken away from you. Permantly."
He began to walk back up the hall of Maximum Security keeping his eyes as focusing and forward as he could. As he walked voices called out at him, barked, one patient ran straight for the Warden hitting the glass and knocking himself out cold. The Warden just closed his eyes and breathed in deeply and reopened them. He hated them. All of the patients. They were filth. Stains of Gotham, needing to be rubbed and scrubbed clean. If only they'd let him do it. If only someone shared his views...
He came to the end of the hall where the nurse station was. Old coffee now cold left on a stack of itineraries, screens in the back showing him the display of the hallway, all abandoned by the panic of earlier.
"Rough day at the office, Quincy?" The narcissistic tone was immediately recognized. Warden Sharp turned an annoyed look at Edward Nigma. He had no patience for this man any more than he did for the psychotic clown. Scolding him would have even little effect.
"As always, Mr. Nigma, I bid you good day."
Nigma continued to spout off how unbrilliant and predictable the Warden's shut-down response was and how an intellect like himself couldn't understand how the Warden's inferior brain managed to earn his position. Sharp just ignored him as he knew it was the one thing The Riddler couldn't abide, not having the attention on him. Nigma became infuriated but it was only to be dealt with for a few seconds more.
After hitting the elevator button and getting inside, the familiar latching sound comforted him as he was slowly pulled upward. The tv screen hanging in the corner sprang to life as it always did while the elevator was in motion. Hearing his voice he looked up at his own face; the facade of a welcoming, understanding warden of a mental health facility made him sick, but it reminded him that without Arkham Asylum there would be nowhere to keep these degenerates locked up tight.
He had only to blame himself, he petitioned the mayor to reopen the asylum after so many breakouts occurred at Blackgate Prison all those years ago. He had gone on talk shows, radio shows, even threatened the city council that he would go to the Governor if he had to! All to keep Gotham safe. Well, safer.
The elevator opened and there was Officer Cash, flanked by two other guards, waiting to go down and access the situation.
"Warden, were there any problems? Do I need to call in for more hands?" Cash raised his gloved hand to switch his walkie on near his shoulder when Warden Sharp raised his hand to stop him.
"No, Aaron, I believe it will be alright for the moment. Although one patient did seem to render him unconscious by hitting the cell door. Do have someone take him to the medical building. Go forward with normal routines. I want this.. incident behind us."
"Yes, sir," Cash responded, nodding to Boles and Anderson to follow him down. The Warden looked back as they entered the elevator, strapped with their weapons and helmets. He nodded at Cash, who returned the acknowledgement.
"It was him, wasn't it, sir?" The familiar voice of the head doctor brought his attention away from the elevator.
"It was, Joan. But with his usual tactics, of course, he admitted to nothing," he responded, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. "However, he did use the term of 'finding a way to escape'."
"Should I call off his session with Dr. Quinzel today, sir? This does seem like something he would do if an escape was planned," she said in a hushed voice, her eyes wide with alarm.
"No, I don't think that wise. If he is planning something, then having us take precautions may be what he's counting on. Proceed as normal, Joan," the Warden said and began making his way out of the penitentiary.
Dr. Leland looked as if steam would come out of her ears. Was he really going to act like Joker's threat didn't happen?
"But sir-" she started.
"That will be all, Joan. Thank you." Sharp look over his shoulder and peered over the brim of his glasses at her, silencing any argument she had. He hardly pulled the 'Warden card' when it came to Dr. Leland, but when he did, she accepted it.
It was then that the new intern, Dr. Quinzel, walked toward them looking a little nervous. The tension in the air must have been noted.
"Ah, yes, Harleen, take a walk with me." Sharp motioned towards the exit hall. She glanced over at Dr. Leland who gave a reassuring nod. A slight nod returned she looked back at the warden who was facing away from her, waiting. She walked up beside him giving an acknowledgement as they walked down the hall.
The first few minutes were in silence. Going down the halls gave enough noise, he figured. The humming buzz of electrical wires held up high on the tall ceiling, the whir of cameras following movements in every corner, the clicking and light thumping of personnel as they walked up and down the halls. His own cane gave a slight metallic ding every time it hit the stone or linoleum. It seemed they were moving at a slower pace compared to everyone else. Looking at the blond doctor in his peripheral, he took in that she had a habit of worrying her lip. Perhaps she thought she would be in trouble if the Joker was at fault for something? Maybe she thought her job was at stake? Or that he would be taken out of her care? Either option wasn't a reality at this point, but it did please him to think that she cared about her job.
As they passed the cafeteria and the guard station near the exit, the light from outside the door was blinding in comparison to the dim darkness that surrounded them. A guard behind the desk saw the warden and punched in a code to shut off the the electrical current that was in front of the large mechanical door of the penitentiary. The doors automatic locks clicked and clanked and split as the two halves separated, allowing them to exit onto the grounds.
Once they had taken a few steps onto the dirt path the he stopped making her stop and look at him.
"So this was an interesting morning for you, wasn't it? And in your first couple of months being here. As you can imagine, events like this morning don't happen often."
"No, I imagine not sir," Harleen responded. Her voice wavered a bit. She squared shoulders and rose her chin a little giving the illusion of confidence. He noticed.
"I don't want you to think that what happened is the fault of any staff member. Although we are charged with caring for patients of this... caliber, we also must understand that they will inevitably do what they choose to. We cannot change that." Her breathing relaxed a little and he began walking again. She seemed to what to say something but decided against it.
"What do you think of today's incident, doctor?" He said, prompting her. She glanced over at him curiousity for a moment then looked forward again. He gave her a moment to arrange her thoughts. Her eyes squinted a little, her brows furrowing with thought.
"I believe," she started, "that something happened to trigger this reaction." She looked over at him to see if her answer pleased him or not.
"Interesting choice of words. Reaction. Care to elaborate?"
She smiled brightly at him, seeming happy to share her view. She truly was a beautiful woman. Her light hair seemed to shine even in overcast and her fair skin glowed with an optimism rarely seen in Gotham.
"Yes. As I heard from nurses and guards talking amongst themselves, this doesn't happen often. Even for Arkham Asylum, this isn't a norm. And it only occurred in maximum security, which tells me that one or more of the patients started this singing. And like anyone getting a song in their head, they all joined in to sing. Most didn't touch their breakfast, I hear. Dr. Leland and yourself informed me of the problems with that. I think.. I think that was the goal; to disrupt whatever was going on this morning or even the scheduling for the morning."
She paused a moment to gage his reaction. His eyes stared forward but he nodded as he interpreted all she said, giving her leave to continue.
"When I step back and look at it for a moment it seems, and do excuse the word choice, but it seems a bit crazy. Not meant in the mentally ill sort of way, but in the possibility of it. It almost seems.. orchestrated? I also can't ignore the theatrics of it. And if I were to be honest with myself.. it seems the likely culprit was my own patient. I have no proof, but it does seem the sort of thing he might do."
The tones in her voice indicated she was disappointed in herself and not the Joker.
"Very good, Dr. Quinzel. It is good to recognize traits and behaviors of the patients, especially those directly under your care. But feeling responsible for the actions of your patient is not only irrational but impractical. We can only use the tools available to us. We can only go so far. Eventually, it does depend on the patient to make choices themselves. I believe that you will do splendidly here."
He took one of her hands in his and patted it with the other. His words seemed to give her a sort of relief. With that he said, "Now, I would suggest you speak with Aaron about today's schedule for Joker. I know there was an approved second session today, and that hasn't changed. You may even use it to your advantage with today's events. See if he'll give you any information on it."
"Yes sir!"
He nodded as he turned back down the path toward mansion, were his office chair beckoned him. Today was going to be a hassle, he could already tell.
"Yes sir," she responded enthusiastically as he began walking back to the Arkham Mansion. She bounced a little as she stood there absorbing it all in. He trusted her to continue with Joker, if something happens it's not her fault, and he agreed with her brief diagnosis. She was so pleased she wanted to skip her way back to the penitentiary but of course, she couldn't. Wouldn't be acceptable.
Her mind was as bouncy as her step. Back inside, the guard gave her a funny look as she beamed up at him with an airy 'Hello' and swiped her badge walking through. He just kinda nodded back but a look over her shoulder told her he was admiring her backside. When he looked back up his smirk fell off his face as he fake-coughed into his gloved fist and looked away again. That lessened the mood. Here she was, a doctor, supposed to be respected and they were treating her like a piece of meat to ogle. She didn't like it. She wanted to stick her tongue out at him, but thought better of it
With a slight hmph under her breath she squared her shoulders and made her way to the main nurse station. Cash had come back already with the other guards and made her way toward him. Nurses brushed past each other quickly, playing a game of catch-up. Some held spare syringes in their hands, others hand clipboards taking off pen caps with their mouths as they wrote and walked. One of the doctors from the medical facility was standing at the desk in sea green colored scrubs and a white coat. He was talking to Cash, who didn't look happy.
".. so there may be slight change in energy today. We can get them right back on the routine, but it may take half the day," the scrubs-doctor told to Cash. He turned to Harleen who had walked up to them. He flashed her a smile that would melt most women. She wasn't excluded, he was very handsome.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt, it can wait," she told Cash. She smiled politely at them, not wanting to be rude.
"No, it's alright. I was just finishing with the Doc here. Actually, I don't think you two have met. Dr. Quinzel, this here is Dr. Calman, he is the head doctor of the Medical Facility. Treats patients in the infirmary and the like." Cash motioned between them as he spoke.
"Please, call me Peter," he said extending his hand. He flashed his smile at her as he looked her face over appreciatively.
She took it and gave it a good firm shake. Something she had learned, don't give a girly handshake. Ever.
"Harleen; nice to meet you," she said. She immediately pocketed her hands in her pants.
"You as well. Always good to get fresh new faces. Well, I'd best be heading back, lots of cocktails to administer," he said nodding at Cash once before turning back to Harleen again, smiling, and walking away.
Once he was out of earshot Harleen asked Cash "Cocktails?"
Officer Cash's mouth turned upward as he used the hook-hand to scratch the back of his head. How had she not noticed it before?
"Yeah, that's what the doc calls the medications he gives to the patients. Some of the patients need multiple meds they need, so it's the doc's job to make sure the amounts of each are a safe mixture. He calls em his cocktails. Today will be a challenge since the singing interrupted alot of patients medications. Ya know, I saw how he looked at you. I think he likes you," Cash said, smiling knowingly at her.
"I'm sure he likes a lot of women. And I'm sure they like him too," she smirked. She knew that Casanova type very well. Her college was littered with them. "Wait, how did it ruin their medications by singing this morning?"
"Ah, well, I'm not sure if Dr. Leland told you but they will mix some of the patients meds in with the food sometimes. Most don't take the pills if they're given them, or they hoard them until they can take enough to get high or overdose. So we either administer them ourselves or mix it in with their food."
Harleen didn't blink for a moment. Her eyes looked over his shoulder for a moment, almost to zone out, then looked back at him. "Does Joker have meds put in his food?"
Cash shrugged and hiked a thumb over to the nurse station. "Not sure, but you can ask the nurse for the med file on Joker, it should say if he does."
"Ok, great," she turned to leave then turned back. "One more thing; Warden asked me to talk to you about Joker's schedule today?"
Cash's lightened mood slightly dropped. He must really not like Joker, she thought. "Yeah, he's got common room time this morning, then an afternoon session with you. Have Dr. Leland set you up with an inter-office mail of patients schedules. That'd get you set up right." He politely smiled at her before turning towards the guard station. Must be time to get their shifts figured out too.
Harleen walked up to a scrawny brunette nurse, who sat behind the desk station, and saw her huff at her as soon as she saw her. Geez, can I catch a break people? But Harleen knew how to work people over to her side.
"Yes?" the nurse asked a bit rudely. She had on lipstick that was too pink for her face.
"Hello, I know you're very busy, but I was told to ask you if you could pull my patient's med file. I have a session today and I would greatly appreciate it, since I'm new I'm not quite sure how to go about things." She made herself sound unsure, which in turn gave the impression as though the doctor was the one who needed help from the nurse and not the other way around.
The nurse sat up a little straighter in her chair, smirking, "Yes, I am able to do that. Give me a moment," she said and she pulled something up on her screen. "And the patient name?" she said, typing away while looking at the screen.
"Joker."
The hands that were typing stilled for a moment. The nurse glanced up looking caught off guard. Then recovered quickly. "Oh, you're his new doctor. Well, that's.. eh good, he should have a doctor." One last click and a small printer under the desk she sat at spit out a sheet of paper.
"Here you go. And good luck," she said handing it to Harleen with an expression that said 'you'll need it'.
As Harleen went back out of the penitentiary and onto the grounds, she began to read over the meds administered. It looked as though he wasn't on much. Some meds had notes on the side stating either no effect on patient or to not administer because it gave him energy. Did nothing slow him down?
Her steps came to an abrupt halt. The last drug administered was months ago from the last doctor he had. So apparently he wasn't on any meds. But something nagged at the back of her mind to dig some more. She looked to her right and saw the Medical Facility, the water behind it gently lapping at the cliff shore around it. Odd that the Medical was at the cliff's edge near the boat harbor. But then, if they brought in a patient with wounds, it made sense that would be the first stop.
That was one good thing about Arkham Island, it was an island. A salty breeze would kick up every now and then. Looking out from the island wasn't a bad view. You could see Gotham in all itss glory, buildings stretching high up to the clouds. She fully turned toward Medical, thinking. She could ask that doctor about any cocktails for Joker he might have tried giving him. Glancing forward at Medical then back at the Mansion, she made her decision and made her way to the stone steps of Medical.
The buildings structure was a bit different then the others on Arkham Island. It was very box-ish, the once-white paint was now a tinged yellowish color. The doors were almost twelve feet tall, but instead of the mechanical metal ones at the penitentiary, they were green with small barred windows that swung by pushing the push bar. Above the doors glowed red letters, MEDICAL. Pushing hard, she entered the building.
The walls were white tile, not very clean, smears here and there. She walked through the small foyer and swiped her badge at the electrical current that blocked the way to the front lobby. Once it shut off, she walked forward and took in all that she saw. There were a few wooden chairs in waiting area to the right, up front was the check-in counter similar to one you'd see in a regular hospital. Behind a sliding glass window sat a male nurse in scrubs writing something down. She made her way up to him and tapped lightly on the glass.
"Excuse me?" she said lightly.
The male nurse looked up and slid the window open. "Yes? You here to see a patient?"
"Oh, no. I'm looking for Dr. Calman? I need to speak with him."
"Ok, sure. The doc's probably around here, I can page him for you."
"Thanks," Harleen said and turned away to stand off to the side. While waiting she saw a patient leaving through swinging double doors at the end of the lobby. He was sitting in a wheelchair that was being pushed by a nurse and flanked by an armed guard. The wheelchair had a cage attached to it that came down around the patients head, almost like an old birdcage. His wrists were secured to the chair with fabric restraints and his ankles were secured together. All the precaution seemed wasted on her since he looked so doped up on something he could hardly keep his eyes open.
The intercom recording was a passive-sounding male voice saying "A happy patient is a quiet patient!", "Our medical staff is here to help you!", "With Selective Re-Education, you can bring home the loved one that you always wanted." There was a click noise heard then the familiar male nurse saying over the intercom "Dr. Calman to the lobby, Dr. Calman to the lobby, thank you." The regular recording started up again.
A few minutes later Dr. Calman pushed through the same double doors the drugged-out patient had come out of earlier. When he saw Harleen there, his casanova smile appeared again.
"Dr. Quinzel! How nice to see you again so quickly," he said, making it sound as if she couldn't stay away. Resisting rolling her eyes, she just smiled.
"Yes, I was hoping you could help me with something. I wanted to know about the medications my patient is currently taking."
"Oh sure, follow me, we'll pull up their file." He motioned her to follow him back through the double doors. The wide hallway had several doors on the left and right. Some with little plastic flags indicators of different colors. Taking the first left, they went past a large room that had a long window that took up most of the wall, almost like an observation room. Inside was a female patient with short dark hair. She was in a straight jacket that was secured to the cushy chair she sat in, it almost looked like a dentist chair. She was looking around, talking to things in the room Harleen couldn't see.
They continued down the hall making a right through another set of double doors stepping into a wide, large tiled room with two levels and opened tiled showers in the center of the first floor. They were currently on the second landing, which seemed to be used to look down at the main floor; it was like a large balcony wrapping around the walls with steel and glass railings.
"This is what we call the Sanitarium. It looks a bit daunting at first, but you get used to it. Up here on the top floor, doctors can observe patients and run tests. Down below in the showers area is where patients are sanitized when they first come in, and when they have their scheduled showers. This is called the upper corridor. Patients aren't normally allowed up here. The lower corridor is for them."
Harleen nodded, keeping her face as straight as possible. THIS was a sanitarium? It was awful! It looked like a torture chamber. The tiled floors and walls weren't sanitary in any sense of the word. The shower area was awful. It was a three tiled walls connected with three or four shower heads in it. The opened side of the shower room was just open! No curtains, there were no partitions for privacy for patients showering other than the low shower walls surrounding the other sides. In fact, a male was currently showering below and had a guard at the entrance of the shower room watching. It looked dirty in there. The water and soap wasn't enough to wash away stains of whatever had come through before. Anyone above could look down see you shower?! That didn't seem right at all. It made her feet squirm in revulsion. To the left and right of the shower room along the walls were tables, lockers, an unused nurse station next to an elevator that was currently on the first floor.
"What's on the first floor?" Harleen asked, wanting desperately to leave the sanitarium.
"Ah, well, that'd be the morgue. A great deal colder down there, but much smaller. Through here," he started to walk around the balcony landing to another set of double doors, "is the main hall. It leads to Patient observation and X-Ray. The rooms," he pointed down at the floor indicating red and blue directional painted lines, "are color-coded so it's easier to not get lost. We have alot of turn over for guards and nurses so it comes in handy."
They followed the blue strip toward patient observation. Ones of the rooms they past along the way had constructions working in it, with ladders, wires, and gear.
"What's going on there?" Harleen asked casually.
Dr. Calman looked to where she looked. "That's a old room they are remodeling. Trying to open more space for doctors. I don't know who'd want a room in there, though." Harleen just responded with a low 'hmm' and turned her attention to the door they were coming up on. It was a door similar to the office doors in the Mansion.
Fiddling with a key that was attached to the lanyard around his neck that held his badge, he unlocked his office and let her in first. It wasn't what she expected. It was a very pale blue-grey color with a light wood colored desk. There was file after file stacked on his desk surrounding a computer with a screen saver of bikini clad women flashing across it.
"oh, uh. lemme just.." he moved the mouse quickly to take the screen saver off. He sheepishly half-grinned at her. "I'd have an excuse but I have none currently. Little distractions from work and all," he said, coughing a little. Harleen just smirked and shook her head a little.
"So how do I find out if my patient has been taking medications?" She said, sitting in the chair across from his desk. He plopped down in his own chair and started sifting through the files.
"Well, medications orders are recommended from the doctors. Usually the nurses bring them to me and I make sure it's safe for the patient to take, no allergens, no volatile mixing of other substances. Is this a new patient?"
"No, he's been here for some time, he was recently put into my care."
"No problem, we'll see what's going on. Which patient is it?"
"The Joker," Harleen stated with an almost blank face. She couldn't wipe off the slight smile she had.
"Joker? He's your patient? Geez... that explains why you came to me. Not alotta meds work on him. Not to mention it's hard to tell when they do." He dropped the files he had been looking through and bent down to a file cabinet under his desk. "I keep all the uh, well, known as extreme patient files here." He pulled on a manila folder that had a purple tab on it.
As he started flipping through the pages, Harleen couldn't help to ask "Who else is in the extreme patient file? Or can I not ask that?" She smiled sweetly at him, earning her a lecherous smile back.
"Ah, heck, no harm in telling you what you'll hear after working a few months anyway. The maximum security wing has a nickname. Some of the regulars call it the Rogue's Gallery. There's Pamela Isely, Harvey Dent, Joker, Jervis Tetch, Julian day.."
At the curious look she had, Dr. Calman held up his hand in understanding. "You know them better as Poison Ivy, Two-Face, Joker, Mad Hatter, and Calendar Man. We aren't supposed to use their media-dubbed names as it may hinder any rehabiliation. So now, what is Joker up to... hmm.." he flipped through a few more pages, his finger trailing the page and stopping. "Here. It says his last drug administered was.. Huh."
"What?"
"It's just .. a recent prescription was placed two days ago. High dosage of haloperidol–promethazine. Its a sedative that is used for rapid tranquilization. Usually puts patients instantly to sleep within moments. You didn't prescribe this, I take it?"
Harleen's eyes shot to the paper in an instant. No, she didn't prescribe anything for Joker. They just had their first session yesterday, and their talk last night. He hadn't done anything to deserve a tranquilizer. "No," she said calmly, "I didn't. Does it say who did?"
He flipped the page over at the signature. Harleen leaned forward and saw. Dr. Joan Leland. She leaned back at closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm her rising pulse. Dr. Calman closed the file and handed it to her.
"Do you want me to let the Warden know? Technically she's the head psychiatrist, but her requests are supposed to go through you."
"No, really, thanks, but it's alright. I'm sure it was just Dr. Leland taking a precaution. She does seem concerned about me," Harleen said setting Joker's medical file on the desk.
"Hey, no worries, right? If he was out like a light for a few hours, it'd give everyone some relief, yeah?" he said making his way to the door.
"Right, but if he's out, I'd have no work to do," she said opening the door. His hand caught it making her look back up at him.
"I'm sure you could find a way to occupy your time." It was suggestive. Openly suggestive.
Her skin crawled but the only way to escape a casanova is to let him think he won. "I'm sure I could," she smiled, giving him elevator eyes one time. It worked he smiled back, letting go of the door allowing her to leave. "oh, and please don't tell Joan or the other staff I know. I'd rather it be our secret?"
As she walked out of his office and back down the hallway, she fought the urge to look back knowing he was staring. Her skin wiggled and crawled. She'd rather get in one of those showers right now. Following the path they had taken, her steps slowed as she walked past the room with the short haired brunette.
She came to stop as she watched a nurse about to give her an injection of some sort. The young girl eye-balled her suspiciously, becoming frightened when the nurse approached her with the needle. As the syringe went into her arm, the girl yelled, tears going down her cheeks. It broke Harleen's heart. Why couldn't the nurse reassure her? What was she afraid of? Did anyone care to ask? It reminded her of how Jervis had been crying the night before, sounding so sad. The guards touching Ivy unnecessarily. It was just tragic. The sadness quickly turned to ire in her belly. She walked off again, unable to take in anymore of the scene.
Her steps became determined. Joan thought she was going to sneak drug orders behind her back? Think again. Joker was HER patient, not Joan's.
Omigosh... so a little perspective from different views huh? And what do you think?! Please tell me in comments below! I love you all.
p.s. I stayed a half hour after work so I could post this today and not tomorrow. :D I still am at work and need to post, log off and clock out! :D don't say I don't care :P
I'll work on Ch. 16 tomorrow, mostly already written out, so whoohoo, may have a double chapter by this weekend!