Gotham General Hospital is generally a place you don't want to be. It's bleak, foreboding, and about twenty years out of date in its construction.
It's even more annoying to deal with when they can't figure out what's wrong with my friend.
"The hell do you mean you can't help her? She was dosed with an experimental mix of drugs and pheromones against her will." I argued with the attending doctor, an older man with graying hair and a sunken face.
"The key word there being experimental. Son, we can't treat it if we don't know what she was dosed with." He gave me a soft sigh, "We got her on a broad spectrum detox, but the effects are still persisting. We don't have the beds available to keep her for observation. I'm sorry kid, but you gotta get her someplace else."
I let out a groan, rubbing at my eyes with my fingers.
"I can get her home. Or try Thompkins."
"Leslie can work miracles, Kid, but she's got less beds than we do, every medical center in Gotham's been filling up with that Scarecrow fella going hog wild." The doctor cuts in, and I grimaced.
"What, some kind of crazy man with a scythe running around?" I asked, and the doctor scoffed.
"I wish. Some kind of hallucinogen. Set off a gas bomb in the Mall at rush hour." The doctor spoke, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.
"First I'm hearing of this." I muttered,
"I doubt you had your radio on in that gas guzzler of yours when you had her in the passenger seat. Just keep your windows rolled up and your AC off and you should be fine. I'm being called into another surgery, good luck, Kid."
With that, he walked off, and I entered Pamela's room.
"Henry~!" She chirped, still obviously loopy…and looking a bit green.
"Doc, are you feeling alright?" I asked, taking a seat in the guest chair, Pamela gave a giggle and nodded whilst fiddling with the sleeves of her lab coat.
"I'm wonderful~" She calls as she steps up off of the hospital bed, and I just noticed she's not wearing pants. I quickly averted my gaze, I'd seen more risque views, hell I'd been inside the Iceberg, that should say enough in and of itself. But it was different when it was someone you respected and y'know, wasn't paid to be naked.
"You got dosed with something doc. One of our experiments. Doc Woodrue tried to burn down the Lab with you inside."
"Believe me, he will get exactly what he deserves." Okay there's the Doc Isley I knew. Well meaning if you stayed in your lane, but you cross her and that red hair of hers might just be hellfire.
Pamela tapped me on the shoulder and she was now fully clothed in her civvies. Simply meaning she had her lab coat draped over her forearm and her jeans back on.
She also had a vengeful gleam in her eye.
"As your friend, I have to advise against trying to coerce me to contact my known felon father."
"Don't worry, Henry. That wasn't what I was going to do." She gives a grin with too many teeth. "Be a dear and drive me home?"
Henry. Da always told you about dangerous women. Especially redheads.
Especially Redheads in Gotham. Ma had more warrants than Da back in the day.
But, She's Doc Isley, and you owe her just about everything you know about botany. God Damn It.
"Promise to keep any murderous plots you have until I'm far enough away to not be an accomplice?" I asked as we started walking.
Her following chuckle did nothing for my nerves.
"Oh no, I'm telling the cops the whole thing was your idea."
The drive back was…weird. Isley was being touchy and flipping from happy to angry to excited and I'd known about her Bipolar Disorder, seen her in some weird states over the last two years but this had to take the cake.
It was a thirty minute drive, and I was already frazzled from what the Doc had told me about this Scarecrow Gobshite. Isley being pushed into BPD overdrive from whatever havoc that chemical cocktail was doing.
Fucking Gotham. Always something.
When traffic disappeared, my heart sank to my gut.
"I'm gonna make Jason hurt, Henry." Pamela spoke from the passenger seat, clenching at the air with her hands.
"Do you honestly think I'm gonna let him get away with this crap, Doc?" I shot back, turning the corner.
"Then why haven't you called your father yet?"
"Because GCPD has my phone tapped, likely has a wire in this car, and has been looking for leverage to have me go Confidential Informant since I was fifteen." I spoke calmly, "I'm what's called a 'known associate'. Never had so much as a parking ticket, but it doesn't mean that Loeb will give me a break."
"Cops in this city are as bad as the Mob." She groans out, and I let out a chuckle.
"Welcome to my life, Doc. Look, let's just get you home, some shit is going down…" The words died in my throat on the straightaway past the University, where there, standing in the middle of the street, was a man in a scarecrow costume, standing next to a massive set of gas canisters hooked up to what looked suspiciously like a bomb.
"Doc."
"Yeah, Henry?"
"There's a gun in the glovebox. I need you to give it to me." I left no room for argument.
"Why don't I just handle the sh-"
"Because you're under the influence of a number of different chemicals and in the last two years I've known you, you've never onced mentioned knowing how to use a firearm."
"You point and shoot."
"Nope, not that simple, please Doc, hand it over." I put the car into reverse and began backing up, praying that the masked nutjob didn't see us. He did. He began marching towards us and I quickly held my hand out for the revolver.
Pamela, deciding that listening to me must've been the best option, quickly handed it over. Unfortunately, another car turned the corner and slammed into my rear end. Two more followed suit, and the intersection was blocked. Fucking Gotham.
"Goddamned, piece of shite." I muttered, my accent coming out once more. I turned to Doc, spoke quickly and shifted back into drive. "Doc, whatever happens, keep your head down…and be ready to hold on to your tits."
I was about to put the pedal to the metal and either get around the guy or run him down when I heard him speak.
"What are you afraid of, Henry?" His voice was amplified and put through a speaker but I knew that voice.
I listened to it jabber on and on about how fear affects psychology for six months.
"That's Doctor Crane." I muttered, Isley nodding.
"That fool finally went off the deep end." She spoke, and she finally seemed to be stabilizing, mood wise, but her skin was still that verdant pallor.
"If he doesn't back up I might have to throw him down the deepest end." I brought the revolver up to brandish it through the glass of the windshield. Plain View.
He stopped approaching.
"I'm wearing a dead man's switch, Henry. You shoot me, you fill the next two square miles with my fear toxin."
"He's lying. He's too much of a narcissist to do that, he'd want to push the button himself. Shoot him, Henry!" Pamela snarled, and I considered it, but it wasn't tenable.
"I can handle putting him in the ground. But if there's a chance that doing that doses more people with something called 'fear toxin'? I have to be careful…Doesn't mean I can't put the fear of God into him though." I muttered, stepping out and keeping cover behind my car door.
"Finally going to talk, Henry?" He spoke, about 50 feet away.
"One more step, and I swear to sonny Jesus I'll take you apart joint by joint." I spoke, mean mugging him the whole time. He still didn't move.
"You didn't answer my question, Henry." He insisted, and I scoffed,
"I don't have to answer a single thing you ask, Crane."
He took a step and I lined up the shot.
"HEY! This is a .44 Magnum, I shoot you with this, it will tear your leg from your body."
"You do that, I bleed out in five minutes, and the whole block is flooded with Toxin."
He might be right. He might be full of shit. Fuck where are the damn cops when you need them?! Goddamn it I never wanted to have to do something like this. My hands weren't shaking but my heart was hammering in my chest. Such a bullshit day.
"You want to know what I'm afraid of, Crane? Shite like this. My whole life I've had to deal with being the son of a criminal, everyone, everywhere, telling me I'm gonna end up just like him." I snarled out, cocking the hammer of the revolver back. "Have you ever seen a man with his kneecaps blown out? Seen barrels of liquid person?"
"Fear of falling from grace. It's exquisite, isn't it?" He takes another step, and I see something move behind him.
Is that…
"Why not embrace it Henry? Why not let me help you broaden your perspective of fear."
Silhouetted by my headlights, I could see a tall man standing right behind Crane. He wore a cape and a cowl that had horns pointing towards the sky. Bright white lenses covered his eyes, and the sigil of a Bat on his chest. I decocked the revolver.
"You ought to think about a change of perspective yourself, Professor." I tucked the revolver away and got back into the car.
"Don't you walk away from me, Hen-"
WHAM!
That's got to hurt. The Bat slammed Crane's face into the asphalt hard enough that I could hear it from here.
"Let's get tae fook outta here, Doc."
"Two costumed maniacs in one day is two over my limit, agreed."
We hauled ass out of there, but I couldn't help but swear I saw those white lenses follow us as we burned rubber out of there.
We made it to Doc Isley's apartment not long after, and I was about to pull a room clearing before a familiar voice spoke up in the hallway.
"We've got a BOLO out on Jason Woodrue. He hasn't been anywhere near here in the last six hours, so holster your weapon, MacLeod." Lieutenant Gordon. I did so, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Detective, good to see you…Christ I never thought I'd say that to a cop." I muttered, earning a chuckle from both the Detective and Doc Isley who was flagging a bit, leaning on my shoulder.
"I heard you were in a standoff today, said a few things that would normally have you in the station answering questions for the next couple days." Gordon spoke, leaning on the wall next to Pamela's door. "But, you also kept a masked maniac occupied and in custody until he was disabled and put into GCPD Custody. They got some nice pictures of you, by the way. I'm certain you might see yourself in the papers tomorrow."
He takes a moment to give the two of us a nod and walks out.
"Y'know, when I said you might want to consider taking my job, kid, I was joking, right? Have a good night, you two."
….
"Doc…did I just get away with brandishing a firearm and making threats of grievous bodily harm?" I asked,
Doc's Response was to laugh while pulling open her door and dragging me inside.
"Yes, Henry, I think you did."