Chapter 9: Sticky Notes

The anger was every compass of Dr. Quinzel's being as her heels clopped faster behind Warden Santos' tail. He was just coming from admission, and still wore a glower of shock. The sound of Dr. Quinzel's heels didn't help in that matter.

The Warden turned to her and exasperated, "Harleen, please… I have far too much to deal with as of now."

"Damn right you do," she hissed, "You know why this happened, Javier, you're not naïve. This has Crane written all over it, he might as well have left his illegible signature on Bishop's forehead."

"Harleen."

"He got rid of the ombudsman, but so what? He's guilty he just proved it! We need to take this to the GCPD."

"And then what? Tarnish our reputation more than it's already been?! It doesn't matter, Harleen, don't you get it? The odds of the ombudsman finding fault in Crane with Atkin's hallucinations disclosed and not a speck of proof other than hearsay wasn't enough to sway Bishop, regardless. It would have had to been taken to court! You think that's what we need?"

Dr. Quinzel curdled, "You're saying you didn't believe in Coralline's story?"

"No, I'm saying there simply wasn't enough proof to go on. An accusation like that needs far more than an inmate's word."

"Why?! Sometimes that's all an inmate has to protect themselves!"

"It's unfortunate, but it's just the way it is, Harleen. We take this to court it'll only grant us a 50% chance of success, thousands of dollars, and our reputation with it. There is nothing more to be done…"

Dr. Quinzel snatched his arm before he could walk away, "There is plenty more that can be done!"

"Like what?"

"Fire his ass!"

"This is very emotionally indulgent, Harleen. Very. What would this hospital gain from firing a so far respectable and accomplished psychologist from its staff? You have any idea how many patients he has? The money that's been invested in him? If there is no proof in the claims, then there is no recourse. The case rests until another ombudsman is found, that's all we can do."

The Warden's phone began to ring, he held up his finger as he placed it to his ear, "I need to take this, excuse me…" He walked off speaking troublingly on the phone, leaving Dr. Quinzel with a library of curse words in the lump of her throat. She wanted to scream up at the fluorescent lights. She wanted to find Crane and wring is scrawny neck. All of these things were product of unbridled rage. Dr. Quinzel remembered her own advice. She took a few deep breaths, and went back to her office to cry, knowing she needed to.

Dr. Crane received a knock on his door, he calmly called to it, "Come in."

Bolton opened the door, still a picture of nerves. However, Crane greeted him in a light smile, "Close the door."

As Bolton did so, he asked impatiently, "What did you do? The hospital is freaking the fuck out! The ombudsman…"

"I said I'd deal with it," Crane said back, "and I did. So, you can calm down. Take a breath. It's over for now."

"So what? No ombudsman means no investigation?"

"The Warden would never take this outside the hospital. He was already being dragged through the mud by Harleen, he hated this entire thing. He's probably relieved it's put to rest. It takes weeks for a new ombudsman to be appointed, by that time Atkins' claims will be thrown out."

"What about Dr. Quinzel?"

"She's likely licking her wounds as of now. There's not much she can do. If she takes it to GCPD or the press, she might as well sign her resignation. Kiss her trial goodbye."

Bolton took a deep breath in relief and then clenched his teeth, "Fucking Atkins! Big mouthed… cunt! I should teach her a lesson tonight!"

"No," Crane alarmed, "Leave her be. Don't you see she's been through enough? Besides, it was Harleen that made her tell the Warden. Focus on the big picture, Bolton. We need to take a break from these activities for a time. Far too hot as of now."

Bolton sighed, "Yeah… yeah. You're still paying me for Zsasz the other night, right?"

"Of course. My bank takes a few days for the funds to process, you should be receiving it soon."

Bolton nodded, his breath coming easier to him. He stayed quiet for a moment before asking, "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know what. The ombudsman. What did you do?"

Dr. Crane scoffed a chuckle, "There's only so much fear can reveal before it loses its quality, Lyle. That's the thing about fear, it's a master of secrets."

Dr. Quinzel was texting Morello on her phone. However, the last two recent (expletive) text messages she sent to her warranted a phone call. She answered it promptly, expecting it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Morello's voice was shrill on the other line. Quinzel put her on speaker phone.

"Nope. Bishop is in admittance now; he's going into the wards! His wife and kids, Ruby. There was never ever any consolation he was dealing with mental illness. His doctors are playing this 'work-stress' related bullshit!"

"So, what? Crane just gets away with it?!"

"Yup. Javier isn't doing shit. If anything, he seems less stressed now. I cannot describe to you the kind of rage I'm feeling now. I want to find Javier and kick his ass, Bolton and kick his ass even more, and Crane and shove my heel so far up his ass he tastes the fucking suede!" Quinzel released a long, pained growl as she faced the ceiling then said, "I should quit. Fuck it. Go to the press and the cops and get all of these assholes a taste of justice."

"No. Don't fuck up your trial over this… look, they are all slimy bastards and all Javier cares about is the money and his reputation. You are the only one who did something and is still doing something. Don't act rashly, okay? At least give Atkins the trial. If she can't have her way with Crane as a cellmate, let her have fucking… Therapy Room. Nurse that baby, you hear me. Speaking of babies, I need to go nurse mine. He just woke up."

Dr. Quinzel could hear a baby crying in the background. She smiled, "Aww. Is that Tyler?"

"Yeah, my little moose. Right now, he is the only thing that'll make me feel better. You go feel better. Go get a face mask, bottle of wine, and one of those huge barrels of cheese balls. You'll be fine."

Dr. Quinzel giggled and said, "I will. Thank you, Ruby. Why haven't we hung out outside work yet?"

Morello's baby's cries were heard clearer on the phone as she said, "I don't know. Maybe we should, huh?"

"Uh, yeah!"

A knock was heard at Quinzel's door, and she hushed, "Shit, I gotta go, Coralline is here."

"Okay. Be careful telling her. There's no telling what she will do."

"I know. Bye." She ended the call and said to the door, "Come in!"

Robinson opened the door for Coralline to walk through, she went and sat at the patient chair as Robinson closed it behind them.

"Hey," Dr. Quinzel said in guilt.

"Just tell me," Coralline grumbled, "Officers talk. I heard about the ombudsman getting wheeled away sucking his thumb all the way from HRS. So what… no ombudsman means no judgement right?"

Dr. Quinzel exhaled, "Yes. Without the ombudsman we will have to wait till another is appointed which could take weeks. At this point, administration isn't doing anything with Crane in this matter."

"By administration, you mean your warden?"

"Yes."

"For fuck sakes…" Coralline seethed down to her hands.

Dr. Quinzel sadly comforted, "I'm sorry, Coralline. I'm so sorry. I did try everything I could but…"

"There's not much fight one person can put against a monster… I get it. You're no monster slayer. You're just a doctor."

Dr. Quinzel's shame was shown in her eyes. Meeting Coralline's, she could see her disappointment glaring back.

"It isn't over, Coralline. We just need to wait for a new ombudsman and bring the case back to their attention."

"Yeah, and in that time he's probably gonna have me killed."

"Coralline, stop…" Dr. Quinzel consoled. However, she was more consoling herself. After today, she had no inkling of what Dr. Crane was capable of.

"Just drop it. Whatever, it's done. Nothing is going to come out of it, the suits won't let it. This is Gotham, Quinzel, there's no justice."

"That's not true. You deserve to be heard and you deserved closure from this."

"You should be careful," Coralline said stoically, "Someone who holds ideals in this place… the constant disappointment will crush you. After a while, you'll find yourself in a cell with the rest of us."

It was nearing midnight in the HRS wing. It was mostly quiet aside from the few inmates rambling or shouting randomly. Coralline couldn't sleep. She was laying on her bed and looking up at the concrete ceiling. She was out of her orange and beige stripped Arkham top and in a white t-shirt. The hopelessness of Crane was something she couldn't distract from. Any minute she predicted Bolton to come to her cell, or Crane, himself. She was prepared to scream. Then she got thinking of the one in the cell next to her. The screamer who never used to be one. She sat up in bed and gently knocked on the metal.

"Zsasz… Zsasz, can you hear me? It's Coralline. Hey."

"What do you need?" His voice echoed back, as if he was against the wall, as well.

She exhaled long and low before saying, "Crane got to you, didn't he?"

He didn't answer.

"He had me, too. That's why I used to scream. I know he's fucking with you, too. You can tell me about it."

"He misses you, you know," Zsasz said back softly but so cold, "He talks about you. The one who got away…"

"Yeah, thank fuck I did. He makes you look like a Boy Scout."

Zsasz chuckled lowly and said, "You don't know me that well, that's why. You want to know me, Coralline? You want to be my friend?"

"Not really, but I'm trying to comfort you. Because I know how it feels to be on that stuff."

"Aww…" Zsasz moaned from his cell, "That's sweet, really. A beautiful mark you would make. Would remind me of your comfort always."

"I'm trying to be nice, you creep! God…" she exhaled and inhaled to calm down and said, "Look, if Bolton comes for you again, I'll hear it. I can tell Quinzel and she'll get you off Crane's service. She did the same for me."

"I'm sorry, but Miss. Quinzel made it exceedingly clear she didn't want me on her service. She was the one who sent me to Crane, you know that?"

"Yeah, because you're a fucking weirdo, but if she knows you're being mind-fucked by Crane that might change her mind. I don't like you, and I don't like what you do, but no one deserves this shit. We're already in this shithole, that's torture enough."

"At least he gave you cuddles afterwards. I'm not so fortunate. Tell me, Coralline, how did it feel?"

"How did what feel?"

"To let him hold you even after he played with your mind. To let that small part of your dignity crash inside of you. How did it feel to let Crane touch you, while he was digesting you?"

Coralline gritted her teeth and the seething from her nose echoed in her cell. She slammed the metal wall and hissed, "You know what? Fuck you. You deserve Crane's fear-dick in your head. I tried!"

She rustled back into her bed as Zsasz could be heard laughing softly in his cell.

It was the next day, Friday before the weekend, and Dr. Quinzel was putting her things in her cubby, getting ready for Therapy Room. Then she heard a voice beside her that curdled her blood.

"Hello, doctor."

She impulsively glanced to her right to see Dr. Crane putting his things away in the cubby three down from hers.

"Excited for the weekend? Have any plans?"

Dr. Quinzel thought she said it in her head, but it came out in a whisper, "Fuck you."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

She threw her bag in the cubby making things fly out and knock over before turning to him and snapping, "I said fuck you! Fuck you and your fucking stupid glasses. Your clipboard, your ironed lab-coat, your fucking big nose! Fuck you, you fucking bean-pole! You talk to me again; I'll write your diagnosis on that clipboard and shove it up your ass. You… evil, perverted… dick fuck!"

She stormed from the doctor's lounge nearly tripping over her irate jaunt against her high heels.

Dr. Crane nonchalantly called to her, "Good morning to you, too."

Dr. Quinzel heaved breath to calm down as she made way to the Therapy Room earnestly. Despite the anger, it was liberating to say it to his face. She called in the radio, "Start bringing them down, please."

"Yes, doctor."

When she made it there, she started arranging the chairs and setting up a new group exercise.

'Today needs to be a good day. They need some morale. After all of this, they need a good day. I need a good day.'

This thought triggered a fun idea, an easy idea. She put aside the complex feelings exercise she had planned and went to the observation room for some sticky notes.

'It's time for some laughs.'

She sat to the chair and waited for all the patients to come through. Jay was first, of course. Then following Edward, Coralline, and Lazlo.

"Hey guys, welcome back!" Dr. Quinzel said in an over-the-top chirp.

"Jeez…" Coralline irked as she uncomfortably sat down.

Jay smiled, "You're in a good mood, doctor."

Lazlo greeted, loudly aristocratic, "Hello, Ms. Quinzel! Your smile always resonates the sun rays of spring!"

"I'm in a good mood, because today, we're gonna play!" She snatched her booklet of sticky notes excitedly, "The Sticky Head Game!"

Edward was always so quiet but looked along the disturbed faces of the others, (sans Lazlo, of course) visibly confused as they were.

Jay made a high-pitch titter, "the what?"

"The Sticky Head Game, Joseph. Keep up." Lazlo scolded.

Jay breathed out, sniggering softly like he was on the brink of anger but desperately holding it back, "For the last time, Pyg. It's Jay. JAY."

"Of course, Joseph."

Dr. Quinzel continued, "Okay, so, the way we play, something is written on a sticky note by someone in the group, then they will stick it to someone's forehead, and we all need to give guesses of what the thing is, but the one with the sticky note on their forehead has to say the answer. It's a great group building game!"

Coralline chuckled, "Oh my God, I know this game…"

"You do?" Dr. Quinzel asked.

"Yeah, I used to play it with my friends. You can't give obvious hints. It's kinda like charades but the person with the note on their forehead needs to guess, we all have to help them figure it out."

Dr. Quinzel praised, "That's right! Now everyone takes a note," she began handing out sticky notes and felt markers, "do not let anyone see your sticky till it is your turn. It can be an animal, a person, an action, be creative! Try to keep it one word."

Edward asked shyly, "We just hold onto it until…"

"Until it's your turn! When it's your turn, you will stick it to the forehead next to you. Don't let them see it!" Dr. Quinzel couldn't contain her giddiness, "Alright! I'll go first. Jay, your up."

She came up to Jay who looked down in discomfort as Dr. Quinzel stuck the purple note to his head and sat back down.

It said on the note, 'Warden Javier Santos'

Coralline sat up in her chair with her finger wagging excitedly, "Oh! An asshole!"

Dr. Quinzel couldn't contain her laughter as the guards at the doors were furrowing their brows.

Jay pointed to himself, "Is it me? Is it my name?"

"No!"

Edward tried to stifle a laugh at the last answer, "Authoritative. We see him every once in a while, in HRS."

Jay spat, "Bolton!"

"No!" Coralline laughed.

"He is fond of tailor-made suits. He has gorgeous brown eyes!" Lazlo exclaimed, making Coralline grimace.

"The Warden!"

"Yes!" The four said simultaneously.

Jay took the sticky from his forehead and chuckled, "I should have had it when you said asshole." He looked back to the guards and shrugged.

After the laughing died down, Lazlo instructed, "Alright, Joseph. Your turn."

"Jay!"

Coralline barked over the voices, "Just put the sticky on his head, for Christ's sake."

"Okay! Okay!" Jay giggled as he got up and pressed his sticky into Edward's forehead— who briefly removed his glasses and swept his hair for Jay.

The note said clearly, 'Gasoline.'

Dr. Quinzel hummed, "You use it… it's like… a necessity."

Coralline interrupted with her finger raised, "America was built on it!"

Edward guessed (his voice a bit louder than usual), "Lies!"

Jay leaned his head back and cracked a laugh.

Coralline said through a smile, "No, no, you're right but you're wrong."

"It tastes much better than it smells!" Lazlo chimed.

Coralline irked, "Ugh! The fuck, man."

Edward waved his hands to his front and said, "Okay, okay. One at a time, go."

Jay said, "Okay. I got a riddle for you, Eddie. Can be found underwater, turned to liquid to power. But when it meets a spark, it makes one hell of a fire!"

Edward blurted the answer before Jay was even finished, "Gasoline!"

Jay clapped happily with Dr. Quinzel as Edward took the sticker off his forehead.

"That's bullshit, you basically gave him the answer!" Coralline whined.

Quinzel scolded, "Now, Coralline… swearing and respect. Come on."

"No, he did," said Edward light-heartedly, "That riddle was so obvious."

Jay pointed to him with his thumb looking aghast, "Take a load a' this guy. Riddle lecturer."

"Alright, alright. Moving along. Edward, you wanna stick your note to Lazlo?"

Edward nervously sat up and approached Lazlo, a large man but smiling like a child. Edward was jittery, and the room fell quiet.

Jay egged him on, "Don't be nervous, Ed. Just imagine you're taping up Mitchell."

Dr. Quinzel flagged that comment, "Hey! Hey! Jay, not cool."

Edward shook as he stuck it to Lazlo's forehead, who smiled up at him.

"You remind me of my Garret. Such a shy little critter," crooned Lazlo up at Edward, "Such gentle features you have, Nashton. Take off your glasses for me. I want to see your eyes." Edward quickly retreated back to his seat in visible discomfort. Coralline had her eyes closed as she silently laughed in her throat.

"So creepy," she giggled.

Jay said aloud, "Hey, keep it in your pants, Valentin. He don't play for your team."

They observed the next note earnestly. 'Whale"

Edward said uneasily like he wasn't sure he should be saying it, "They… live in the ocean."

Lazlo gasped, "The vampire squid!"

Jay blurted, "It's a mammal, not a cephalopod!"

Lazlo said quietly to Coralline, "They are quite magnificent."

Dr. Quinzel chimed, "Some of them travel together, some don't. They are huge!"

"They can't breathe in water, but they live in the sea!"

"They sing!"

"Oh my God, how hasn't he gotten it yet. They are mammal in the sea!"

Lazlo blurted, "A dolphin!"

"They are almost as huge as you, Pyg," teased Jay, causing Coralline to wheeze in laughter.

The timer ran out and Lazlo plucked it from his forehead to read the answer. He looked up from the note and to Jay, "Huge as me? Are you fucked?!" He spat it jokingly in a flamboyant tone.

The others in the circle were pooling in laughter. Even Edward was giggling into his hands as he held his glasses in between his fingers.

Lazlo stuck the note on his chest to continue the jest, "I expected better from you, Joseph."

Jay exaggerated with his hands in a shrill voice, "It's not Joseph! It's Jay! Or Joker! Or Daddy Mac! Please!"

"Calm down, Joseph." Lazlo preened up.

Edward was in fits of suppressed giggles, but he weakly squeaked from his fingers, "He's still calling him Joseph."

Coralline's face was so red it could have been mistaken for a tomato. Her eyes were starting to swell in tears against the heights of laughter she hadn't spurt in years. Her stomach ached, her cheeks were sore, the turmoil of Crane wasn't even considered. Dr. Quinzel was laughing herself, but seeing Coralline and the others enjoying the game to such multitudes was the cherry on top. The game was a success, and her anger for the system and Crane's malice wasn't a choke on her enjoyment. Even the guards were lightly tittering at the doors to hear it all transpire.

As the ab-pulsing laughter dwindled, Coralline and Edward wiped their tears, and Jay and Lazlo quite their jibes, Dr. Quinzel said to Lazlo, "Okay, Lazlo. Coralline gets a turn now, let's see what you got."

Lazlo was very content to stand and gently press the sticky note to Coralline's forehead. She folded her black hair behind her ears to help him out.

As Lazlo stepped away from Coralline, Jay buckled into his high-pitch cackles. Edward tried not to laugh but did spurt a raspberry from his mouth before clasping his hand over it. Quinzel chastised but even she was laughing, "Lazlo! Come on!"

"I am a plastic surgeon! This is very appropriate!" Lazlo declared proudly.

On Coralline's head it was written in bold black, 'Dick.'

Coralline squalled, "What?! Is it gross? Like sex or something?"

Jay tittered, "Or something, yeah."

Lazlo pointed his finger with his head held high, "It is… an appendage."

Edward sighed with a smile, "I don't know if I want to participate on this one…"

Jay giggled, "What goes in dry and hard, but comes out wet and soft?"

Coralline had enough of the male jibes and took the sticker off her head. She read it with a glare, but then her face lighting up in an ebullient grin, "You asshole!" She slapped the note on Lazlo's forehead who didn't phase by it. If anything, he welcomed it.

He said in a flamboyant voice, "Come on, girl, dick for you, dick for me!"

The room was a gaggle of giggles, wheezing, and cackles. Dr. Quinzel wiped her tears from behind her lenses, shaking her head. The game was a hit. Everyone was laughing and smiling ear-to-ear. Four exceptionally dangerous and anti-social people were showing a side of them she hadn't seen or thought existed. What was a room of high expectations with such dangerous criminals, was now a group of adults enjoying simple fun with sticky notes and jibes. No expectations or rigorous therapy, just themselves.

As the Therapy Room came to another bitter end, Dr. Quinzel was jotting down positive notes (of the successful game) in the observation room. The guards were slowly taking each patient back to their cell. Then her phone rang. She half expected Daniel to be calling for another round of belittling and extortion. However, as she picked up the phone, the caller ID was a number she hadn't seen before. She answered it warily, "Hello, this is Doctor Harleen Quinzel speaking."

The caller was female and spoke professionally, as well, "Hello, Harleen. This is Bella Reál calling you, is this a good time?"

Dr. Quinzel's pen dropped from her fingers in shock. Her face lit up but no words coming out.

"Dr. Quinzel? Are you still there?"

"Yes!" Dr. Quinzel squawked, "I'm here. What can I help you with, Mayor?" She cursed herself. Who calls a mayor by their occupation? Just call her Ms. Reál, she thought.

"Sorry to disrupt anything on your end. I've been doing some digging on your trial, it's really compelling stuff. I hear from Mr. Santos that the progress is good! I really wanted to meet with you and discuss this in person. Are you available for dinner tonight? I can get us a reservation at Cipella's, great Italian food. Are you available?"

Dr. Quinzel's smile was already hurting from all the laughter in group, "Yes! Of course! What time?"

"Seven, is that too late? Will you be off then?"

"Yes! I'll be off. Seven sounds great. I look forward to meeting with you, Ms. Reál."

"You too, doctor. Bye now."

"Bye!"

The phone clicked and Dr. Quinzel slowly set her phone down as she stared vacantly forward. A meeting with the mayor could either mean good press, funding, public support, or public awareness. The excitement was jittering. She breathed a smile and brought her fingers to her mouth, "Holy shit."