Visit To Arkham
Title: Visit To Arkham Summary: Fey Morgan needs information from Arkham. The only problem is getting to it. Author’s Note: Set in the Codot-verse, with a CV version of Sorceress. Few things to remember: She hasn’t donned a costume or chosen a name yet, and she’s still finding as much information on as many people as she can (Think Enigma in Arkham Origins). She works in the GCPD’s files and archives, which is how she got access to half the stuff she already knows.
How would a distressed loved one walk? Concerned, a little quick, glancing around every so often but mainly staying focused ahead. There, that works.
Morgan moved quickly down the halls of Arkham Asylum, the little act she was putting up helping to hide her constant search for guards.
Honestly, she didn’t like going near Arkham. It was full of people that were deluded enough to try to kill her, and the less people that saw her face was better long-term. The aim was to get in and get out as fast as possible. Hopefully the map that the GCPD had on file was still up to date.
Morgan went down a different corridor to avoid a patrolling guard.
The archives had to be around here somewhere…
Morgan kept going, and she had to stop herself cursing when she realised she was going past the more ‘interesting’ cells. Aka, most of Gotham’s costume-wearing breed of criminal. Honestly, what idiot thought it was a good idea to keep them together?
“What? Who are you?”
Morgan smirked and held a finger to her lips before walking right past the cells, acting nervous again to seem like a poor, innocent young woman.
This was far too easy. They really should-
“Uh, Miss? You’re not meant to be down here.”
Shit.
Morgan stopped and turned around, flashing a small timid smile to the guard.
“Sorry,” She apologised, fiddling with her hands, before showing the visitor badge attached to her chest, “I’m visiting my brother, Daniel. The doctor’s say that he can’t come out of his cell today, but I usually visit because it makes him feel better.”
“I’m not sure if-“
“Mr Arkham- Sorry, Dr Arkham,” She giggled nervously and brushed her hair back, “I’m such a mess today, we haven’t been the same since Daniel was taken. Dr Arkham said it was okay, just this once.” She gave him a hopeful look and knew that she had made a good choice mentioning his boss. The guard looked her up and down, then nodded slowly.
“Alright. But don’t take long.” He walked back to his post, and Morgan bit back her grin until she was far enough away from him.
Ha! It worked!
She mentally patted herself on the back for hiding her accent well enough. It was difficult and she’d only just started learning how to, but ta-da! Morgan continued to smile as she came closer and closer to her destination. Just up ahead, turn right, second door on the left.
Morgan moved faster, nervous walk affected only by a want to turn back into her usual confident stride. She could practically smell those tapes…
“Excuse me.”
Morgan stopped again, turned, and quickly hid her body tensing.
Jonathan Crane.
Mother of fuck.
“Visitors aren’t allowed in this section of Arkham, miss.”
Dear lord the man was a tower. Her brain revved frantically as everything she had learned about Dr Jonathan Crane flashed through it. Psychologist, born in Georgia, a skilled chemist that had created a toxin that induces fear. Possibly experimenting with said toxin here at Arkham.
And here he was, standing in front of her. Morgan blinked before holding up her visitor badge.
“I’m visiting my brother. He’s meant to be somewhere around here, but he’s been misbehaving so he’s not allowed out of his cell to come to the visiting area. I explained all of this with a guard just before, sir, you can check with him if you need to.”
Good, but talk a little slower. You’re concerned about your brother, not confronting a serial killer.
Well, technically not…
Crane regarded her carefully, and Morgan gave a friendly but uncomfortable smile. He just had to think she was just as nervous about being back here.
“Well I’m sorry but visitors still aren’t allowed. It’s much too dangerous.”
Really? She never would have guessed.
Morgan reminded herself not to glance towards the door that led to the archives. It was right there…
“Please, I have to see him.” Morgan pleaded, going to touch his arm, “He’s my only family.” Jonathan stepped out of her touch, a little tensely, and Morgan mentally smiled. He looked at her again, and Morgan waited for him to speak.
“Does your brother have a name, Miss…?”
“Carla. Carla Greene.” She smiled widely, “My brother is Daniel Greene.” Jonathan nodded in confirmation that he remembered, but then he stopped, and Morgan barely caught the slight frown.
“If I remember correctly, Daniel Greene doesn’t have any immediate family.”
“Mom and Pop sent us away to our grandma’s when they found out Daniel had problems. Grandma, well, she…she died when we were teens.” Guilt, always the way to go. Not that she could tell what he was thinking. Hell, his eyes looked like they were trying to pick her brain apart.
Ha! Good luck. She hadn’t let anyone see in there in years.
“If you’ll allow me to ask, Miss Greene-“
“Oh please, call me Carla.” She laughed, waving it away.
“Carla,” Crane corrected, “could you tell me about your brother? So I can make any other changes to his file, you understand.”
“Of course.” Morgan didn’t skip a beat, “Daniel just turned thirty-four last June, he’s six feet tall, and he’s had schizophrenia since he was ten. He was sent here after the voices in his head told him to start a fire in a furniture store.” Morgan didn’t smile because she knew how smug it would look if she did. She wasn’t a newbie, she always did her research.
Crane looked at Morgan, and stopped trying to analyse her. Like something had clicked.
“And where were you, Carla, when Daniel had his episode?”
“At home, worrying about him.” Morgan answered, and frowned a genuine frown, “Why?”
“Because to be honest, Carla, I’m having trouble believing you.” Crane answered simply. Morgan looked shocked, and a little offended.
“Excuse me?”
“Daniel never had any siblings.” He continued, stepping forward with a scowl, “He told me himself that when he was young he felt completely alone, which is why he trusts the voices he hears so completely.”
“No.” Morgan stopped herself from stepping back, because she had to stand her ground despite how close he was getting, “I visit all the time, Daniel loves seeing me. Ever since grandma-“
“Ever since your grandmother was killed, you say. Carla, how did she die?”
“It was old age. Dr Crane, please, I don’t like talking about her. I miss her, we both miss her.” Morgan told him, continuing to act offended. She wasn’t comfortable with all the quizzing. He was onto her.
“Carla, I still don’t believe you.” Crane’s expression hardened and he stood over her again, “So why don’t you run along back to whoever you’re working for, and if you really are tellin’ the truth, then come back to the right place to visit your brother.” Morgan stared for a moment, glanced behind him to the door, and then took a step back. If she left now, she’d never get in again.
Morgan straightened and her uncomfortable grimace faded to a frown.
“I ain’t workin’ for anyone.” Her accent slipped through, whoops, “Our parents disowned us and our grandmother is gone and Daniel’s the only one I have left. I want to see him.”
“You don’t seem so nervous anymore Carla. It’s a miracle.”
“Move your ass, Dr Crane.” Morgan ordered. Neither one of them moved, glaring at each other.
“What are you really here for, Carla?” Crane asked bluntly.
Calm, Morgan. Whatever you do, stay calm.
“I keep telling you that I want to see Daniel!” She stood toe-to-toe with him to try and redirect her anger back into the ‘distressed sister’ routine, raising her voice slightly. Crane still didn’t look like he believed her, but he held his hands up slowly.
“Well alright then. But you still have to go to the visiting area to see him.” Crane went to turn her around, and without thinking Morgan slapped his arm away. Crane hissed and looked at his arm in confusion, and Morgan stopped. She hid her hands behind her back, feeling the warmth bubbling up.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, come on not now!
“What did you do?” Crane questioned sharply, and Morgan didn’t answer. She was too busy focusing on getting back under control, willing away the heat in her veins.
“Don’t touch me.” She said quickly, “I’m sorry but I just don’t do physical contact.” His eyes narrowed slightly before he straightened, expression returning to normal, and he gestured.
“Miss Greene, I won’t tell you again. You need to leave, before I am forced to call security.”
Morgan’s lip curled, glancing towards the door again.
She could make it, she could kick his ass and get out before anyone could sound the alarm.
Morgan looked at Crane.
She knew enough about him to know that she probably wouldn’t survive the consequences of beating him up.
“Fine.” Morgan snapped, and as she turned she added, “No one in this place has sympathy for a separated family.” She stomped back the way she had come, fists clenched tightly at her sides.
This fucking close.
Morgan sneered again.
Fine! If he couldn’t mind his own damn business, she’d have to go with the faster route.
Tonight, she’d come back to Arkham, and she’d sure as hell get what she wanted.
