“Keep up now,” Dr. Harper huffed, pushing his glasses up on his squat nose as he walked through the halls. “I’d like to spend as little time as possible with this next patient.”
Kurt nodded, holding his notebooks close to his chest as he hurried. Being an intern meant that he got the least desired positions and working in the psychotics unit at Arkham was one of them. The doctors in charge looked worn out and as grey as the surrounding walls.
“Um…who are we visiting?” Kurt asked softly.
“His name is Blaine Anderson,” Harper pursed his lips. “You might know him as the Joker.”
Kurt’s heart picked up at that. Of course he knew who the Joker was. He had seen the news footage of the pure insanity. He had seen that wide, cherry red smile and white face. He had seen the madness in his eyes.
He would never admit that it was the Joker who had inspired his interest in psychiatry.
“Stay quiet,” Harper said sharply as they approached the cell. “Don’t engage him. I’m a trained professional and he knows the way to get under someone’s skin.”
“Okay.”
Harper gave him one last long look before opening the cell door. The man inside looked nothing like the terrifying villain that the media made him out to be. He was actually rather slight and small, looking unimposing in his white jumpsuit.
“Mr. Anderson,” the man didn’t even flinch of turn from the position he was staring at the wall. “Mr. Anderson, I am here to talk with you.”
Again the man didn’t move.
Harper cleared his throat and opened his notebook. “I would like to talk to you a bit about your childhood.”
Again, the man didn’t move.
“Dr. Harper…I-“ Kurt began, glancing through his own notes.
“With all due respect Dr. Hummel, you are just a student and I’m the professional,” Harper snapped and finally Anderson reacted. It was just a twitch but it showed that he was listening.
“That’s rather rude,” a cool, smooth voice broke through the discomfort and Anderson turned around. “How can he learn if you don’t let him talk to the real crazies?”
Blaine Anderson was a very attractive young man, or he was once upon a time. His dark curly hair fell into his face and his eyes, while beautiful, practically glowed with madness. A wide smile was stretched across his face made only more ghoulish by the prominent scars from either side of his mouth.
“May I talk about your childhood?” Harper asked in a way that wasn’t really a question and Anderson cocked his head to the side, still smiling.
“Would you like me to talk about how daddy beat on me or how mommy was a drunk? How I used to wet my bed, set fires, and cut up small animals?” He still grinned. “How I choked Matty Larson to death when I was sixteen?”
“Let me ask the questions.”
“Oh no,” Anderson shook his head. “You want to hear about how hard I had to press my hands into his throat, the sounds he made, how soft his eyes were as I pierced them with my thumbs and how his body went limp.”
Kurt felt a shiver run up his spine.
“Was this after he and three other boys jumped you, beat you into a pulp and ripped your face up with a pocketknife?” Harper said nastily and Anderson’s body stiffened, smile still in place.
“You mean when they told me that gay meant happy and how I should always smile?”
“Mr. Anderson, I think that-“
It happened too fast for Kurt to even see properly. One moment Harper took two steps towards Anderson and the next his arm was being slammed down onto the corner of the table in the room. Harper let out a cry as his arm made a sickening crunch and guards suddenly swarmed the room.
“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” Anderson hissed, his gleeful expression slipping for just a moment. “You might regret it.”
Guards rushed Harper out to get medical attention and a few others shoved Anderson down to restrain him in a straightjacket. Crazed honey eyes locked on Kurt and he found himself pinned in place like a butterfly on a board.
“Come any time Dr. Hummel. I would love to teach you everything you need to know.”
—
Name: Blaine Devon Anderson
Alias: The Joker
Convicted Of: Nineteen counts of murder, twenty-seven accounts of battery, fifty-three accounts of mayhem.
Diagnosis: Psychopathy
History: After coming out as gay when he was fifteen Anderson experienced ruthless bullying by the hands of his classmates. Four of his classmates attacked him when he was sixteen and beat him badly. Anderson was treated for three broken ribs, a broken hand, a concussion, broken jaw and a Glasgow smile carved into his face. After receiving treatment Anderson attacked and murdered Matthew Larson in a brutal fashion. He later found the other boys implicated in the hate crime and murdered them as well. Anderson’s grip on reality faded until he adopted the moniker “The Joker” and committed sixteen other murders. The Joker was apprehended and has been in treatment ever since.
Prognosis: Anderson is not expected to make a recovery. He is institutionalized so as not to cause harm to anyone else.
—
Kurt’s heart picked up at the mention of Anderson’s name during the meeting. The doctors all mumbled slightly, leafing through their papers and then moved on to the next one.
“Why aren’t we talking about his treatment plan?” He blurted out and an awkward silence followed.
“There is no treatment plan.”
Kurt hesitated before pulling up his own notebook. “We can’t just leave him here to rot.”
The doctors all stared at him blankly before bursting into laughter. “Dr. Hummel, you are more than welcome to try to cure the incurable. Go ahead and waste your time.”
He couldn’t quell the nervousness as he stepped into Anderson’s cell. The other man was bound tightly in a straightjacket but his eyes lit up and his smile stretched wide.
“Why hello doctor.”
“Mr. Anderson-“
“Blaine, please,” he said smoothly. “I assume my case has been handed on to you.”
“I asked for it,” Kurt took a seat on the other end of the room and opened his notebook, trying not to notice how Blaine cocked his head to the side. “I’d like to get some backstory on you if that’s alright?”
“You’ve read my file I’m sure.”
“I want to hear it from you,” Kurt gave him what he thought was an encouraging smile.
For a long moment Blaine just stared back at him and then let out a high pitched laugh. “You think you can fix me huh? You think that after a few lengthy conversations I’ll be perfectly normal?”
“You’re in a hospital and it’s my job to get you better.”
“Darling, I’m as good as I’m going to get,” Blaine leaned forward the best he could in his straightjacket. “I’m at the peak of my life. Do you want to hear a secret?”
Kurt nodded faintly.
“I am never getting out. This isn’t a hospital to get me better, this is a cage. Those sheep out there don’t want someone like me among the general public,” his mouth twisted into a sneer. “I understand the meaning of life and they’re afraid that other people with start to get it.”
“And what exactly is the meaning of life?” Kurt asked, pen still poised above his notebook.
“That there is no meaning,” Blaine shook his head and laughed. “There is no higher power, no goal, no nothing. Animals don’t live with a purpose other than doing what is best for them, despite who might get in the way. Humanity’s greatest mistake is thinking we’re anything other than animals.”
“What kind of world would that be?”
“One of complete chaos, beautiful chaos,” something far away sparkled in Blaine’s eyes. “People don’t care about you so why should you care about anyone else? When people are scared I see part of them that they think they have evolved beyond. I get to see that lizard brain and it is glorious.”
Kurt felt his heart jump in his chest and for a moment he thought that Blaine noticed because his smile widened.
“And something about that interests you Dr. Hummel,” his voice was hypnotizing. “Something tells me that beneath this primly dressed little cupcake I see here is someone who wants to find out how good it feels to finally be free.”
“No thank you, I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Kurt snapped back, fear curling in his stomach.
“Even when they don’t think twice about hurting you?” Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Please, one broken soul knows another. Tell me Dr. Hummel, who broke you?”
For a long, long moment all Kurt could do was stare at the man in front of him. Blaine Anderson was like no one he had ever met before and it terrified him. It terrified him because it made sense.
“We’re not talking about me.”
“You don’t want to build a relationship with your patient?” Blaine cocked his head to the side and Kurt wondered if he had a background in psychiatry.
“I was badly bullied in school for being gay,” Kurt said simply. “So we have something in common.”
“You mean that we were both tormented for something we couldn’t control. How often fit you think about punishing them? About watching their faces twist in panic as they finally realized that hurting you was the worst thing they had ever done?”
He had.
The silence stretched on as Kurt tried to think of something to say. “That’s not true.”
Blaine’s grin told him that he knew he was lying.
—
What had following the rules gotten him?
He tried to be the better man and it led to him being tormented. He worked hard in school to get an internship that no one wanted. He took care of his family and it led to his father dying while he slaved away at school.
Being a good person had only led to pain.
Maybe it was time to start something new.
—
Kurt had been in school long enough to know what the descent into madness felt like. He hardly slept, hardly ate, and found himself only thinking of those brilliant honey colored eyes.
It was like a flame had been lit within him and everyday it burned a little brighter.
Dr. Harris led him to Blaine’s cell and the heat in his chest seemed to be on fire. The other doctor looked bored as always and sighed when he opened the door.
“So…you think you’ve made some progress?”
Kurt nodded, heart pounding for some reason. Blaine was sitting in his chair as always and beamed at Kurt before turning to Harris.
“And here I thought you gave up on me.”
Harris hummed and flipped through his chart. “Do you believe that Dr. Hummel has had a positive impact on your mental health.”
“Oh yes, I am on my way to becoming a stand up citizen,” Blaine’s lips quirked a little. “However, this new medication you have me on has caused me to have this odd rash on my neck.”
Harris rolled his eyes and walked closer. As he pulled down the collar of his shirt Blaine flashed Kurt a grin and that burning turned into an inferno. Blaine jerked forward and dug his teeth into Harris’s neck.
The doctor let out a sharp cry as red blossomed across his neck. He tried to pull back but Blaine grabbed him and dug in deeper, a horrible crunching sound ringing in the small room. Harris staggered, choking on his own blood before falling to his knees.
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Harris continued to choke, hands grasping at the blood gushing and crushed throat. He shuddered and fell back, still gagging.
Blaine stood, blood staining the front of his white shirt. The blood around his mouth looked eerily like the lipstick he wore before his arrest. Kurt couldn’t breathe. He stared at him before his mind was made up.
“Want to get out of here Mistah A?”
Blaine grinned wider, reaching a bloody hand to swipe red across Kurt’s lips. “Lead the way darlin.”
