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Chapter 37 - Institutional Life

The Adams Psychiatric Institute never really slept. Patients were drugged after nine o�clock, but a place like the Adams Institute was always alive with some small sound at night. The squeak of the nurses� shoes on the linoleum floor, the beep of life-support machines from the long-term ward and the anguished screams of the truly lost filled the hallways. Security here was less vigilant than at Arkham Asylum: although the patients were more violent, they were usually less prone to escape. Even so, the Institute had a sophisticated security system geared towards keeping patients in rather than keeping cat burglars out. As a result, Selina had no trouble slipping inside and finding her way to room 241 on the second floor.

There was a light on in her sister�s room and Selina waited in the shadows for the nurse to finish with Maggie. Her heartbeat was slow and steady, her breathing carefully restricted. She never had better control of herself than when breaking into or escaping from something.

The door to Maggie�s room opened and Leslie Thompkins emerged, her medical bag in hand. Selina stepped from the shadows and touched Leslie�s shoulder. The older woman jumped a little, closing her eyes. �I see you�ve picked up some bad habits from him,� she said. Selina simply stood there. Leslie sighed, turning and opening the door to Maggie�s room again.

�Let�s talk,� she suggested. Selina followed her inside.

Maggie�s room was softly illuminated by starlight streaming in from between the steel grates on the windows. Her room was large, spacious, private, a luxury afforded by the check Bruce Wayne sent every month. A single light burned above the bed where Magdalena Kyle lay, wide-eyed and catatonic. She was fed thru IV and a catheter carried the wastes from her body. Her life was divided into cycles between sponge baths, Leslie�s visits and the number of times the nurses came in to turn her over in prevention against bedsores. Maggie was lost.

�How is she?� Selina asked softly, looking at her sister�s still, silent form. Leslie sat down in the creaky wooden chair by the bed.

�It was a good day, Selina. She�s been becoming more and more responsive. Given time-�

�She�ll never recover, Leslie.�

Leslie shook her head. �It�s important that you not give up on her. Maggie�s illness is psychologically-induced. She will recover physically when her mind does.�

�And if it never does?�

�What happened, Selina?� Leslie asked softly, hating to see her friend in pain. �Did Bruce-�

�He wants to use Lucy�s powers to catch the Ottisburg serial killer.�

Leslie bowed her head. �And you don�t want him to?�

Selina�s head came up, the light from above Maggie�s bed flashing over her goggles. �No, I don�t,� she hissed. �Because he won�t stop with one case. Soon he�d use her for everything. And that�s no life for a kid.�

�You really believe he�d do such a thing?� Leslie asked, surprised. �Lucy means more to him than that.�

Selina shrugged. �Are you sure?� she asked. �Didn�t Jason Todd mean a lot to him too?�

�Jason Todd died because he was impulsive and irresponsible,� Leslie said, her tone slightly angry. �He refused to listen to Bruce.�

�So you�re blaming a twelve year-old for his own death instead of the man who put him in that situation,� Selina clarified. Leslie closed her mouth, pursing her lips.

�It�s more complicated than that, Selina. And I think you�re a very hard marker when it comes to this sort of thing. I know how you�ve blamed yourself for what happened to Maggie-�

�Because it was my fault!� Selina cried, clenching her fists. �I�m the one who stole diamonds from the Black Mask. I�m the one who trusted Sylvia Sinclair. Maggie came to Gotham because of me, because somehow she was willing to forgive me for abandoning her all those years ago. Then the Black Mask kidnaps her and feeds her husband�s eyeballs to her. My fault, Leslie. All of it.�

Leslie brought her head up. �And do you disapprove of Bruce�s suggestion about Lucy as his lover or his former enemy?�

She shrugged. �Both. Because I�ve had experience in sacrificial lambs myself,� Selina told Leslie, waving her hand over Maggie�s body. �People get caught up in our world and they die. Or they get hurt. I never really understood why he takes these kids in, how he can stand the thought that maybe one of them will die because he took them in. The guilt-�

�Bruce needs these children, Selina. They are the only family he has ever known.�

�There are lines, Leslie,� Selina muttered, shaking her head. �Lines you cannot cross. I know you want him to be happy, but if he steps over into the abyss, if he uses that child to further his war on crime, then he�s lost. He�s no better than the pimps I knew growing up.�

Leslie folded her arms. �Have faith in him, Selina. He�ll do the right thing.�

�I hope to God you�re right, Leslie. Because if you�re not�I�ll have to stop him.�

The two women sat together in the quiet room, the beep of Magdalena Kyle�s heart monitor slow and steady as it echoed through the oblivion that surrounded them.

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Bruce waited until Dick�s footsteps faded away down the hall. He exited the kitchen, taking the grand staircase up into the East wing, his footsteps heavy, purposeful. Twenty paces down the hall, and then Lucy�s door, white against the dark grain of the wood-paneled walls.

He paused for a moment, his ear ringing. Residual damage from that blast in the yacht basin all those months ago? Bruce shook his head, tensing his jaw until the ringing stopped. He pushed on the doorknob.

Lucy was sitting on a rich red mat, her stuffed animals spread out before her. One of the cats, the gray tabby, was a reluctant third party to some sort of game involving Stevie the Rhino and Mr. Pickles. Bruce watched as Lucy walked the rhino up and over the cat, humming a soft song.

�Hello Lucy,� he said softly from his position near the door. Lucy didn�t look up. The cat regarded him with the cool yellow eyes of a predator.

Bruce crossed the room, coming to stand above her as he waited patiently for the child to acknowledge him. The rhino fell forgotten to the side. Lucy stood, keeping her eyes averted. Bruce touched her shoulder, swallowing past the hard lump in his throat. He couldn�t let the murders continue. Too many good people had already died.

The instant he touched her shoulder, Lucy flinched. He kept his large, heavy hand firmly on her shoulder, stooping to address her as his still-healing ribs screamed in protest. �It will be alright,� he told her stiffly. �I just need to know��

Bruce saw that the little girl had begun to cry. Lucy kept her eyes closed tightly, her tiny chin wobbling as she fought for control. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she sniffled.

�I can�t,� she whispered. Bruce had to lean closer to hear her. �I can�t see him. He�s a bad man, Mr. Bruce.�

�Who is he, Lucy?� he asked her, his soft, deep tones filling the whole of the room. She tried to back away again. Bruce tilted her chin up, saying �Lucy� in what he hoped was a soft, encouraging voice. �Just tell me who he is.�

She shook her head and, with surprising quickness, pulled out of his grasp. She turned, her twisted foot collapsing beneath her. Lucy fell to the floor, landing hard on her side. Before he could react, she turned and looked up at him, her brown eyes wide and dark. He stared at the child/

�Please, Mr. Bruce-�

Bruce knelt beside her, his arm at an awkward angle. He stroked her hair, looking into her eyes. She was so small and frightened. Much like he had been, so many years ago. �Please, Lucy, it�s important.�

The little girl took a deep breath, squeezing the elephant tightly. �I don�t think Selina would want me to.�

Bruce looked her directly in the eyes, forcing the lie, thinking suddenly of Clark and how he would disapprove. Or Diana. He pushed those thoughts aside as he had so many times in the past. None of them were responsible for Gotham.

He would do whatever was necessary to protect the innocents of this city.

�She asked you to, Lucy. You just couldn�t see how much she wants you to tell me about the bad man. Selina is dark to you, remember?�

The child nodded her head slowly, looking up at him. �Promise?� she whispered.

Bruce nodded.

She closed her eyes and told him about a serial murderer in Ottisburg. The cat continued to watch, its yellow eyes glistening in the gathering darkness of Wayne Manor.