Uprooted [Grant]

[Pamela Isley]

It was strange suddenly finding herself in the asylum, for so it seemed to be to Pamela. She remembered much of her altercation with Batman but it got a bit hazy after that until she woke up in the asylum. Something she was extremely unhappy about for a multitude of reasons - not the least of which is the fact that she was absolutely certain that she wasn't crazy and nobody seemed to believe her. Or they acted like it was possible that she wasn't crazy, but that was yet to be determined - which was hardly better.

On top of that humiliation, she'd been dressed in rags and housed in a cold, empty cell. They kept referring to it as a 'room', but she knew it was really a cell. And she was apparently not allowed to have much of anything at all - for some reason they decided that she was dangerous and couldn't have anything that could be used as a weapon, which was pretty much everything except a few pieces of uncomfortable furniture that were firmly attached to the ground and a few soft items like toilet paper - oh goody, she could have toilet paper. But not shoelaces - those were forbidden. Not that she wanted to wear the shoes at all - they were hideous, though somehow not quite as hideous as the rest of the patient uniform.

But feeling as though her dignity had been stripped from her completely wasn't the only thing on her mind - she couldn't stop mulling over her fight with Batman and how much of an absolute monster he was and how she'd failed her poor babies. She wasn't even sure that they were okay at this moment, and that thought gnawed at her more than anything else. She had to get out of here, but so far she'd only been able to determine that being upset and making demands didn't work. Not because she'd tried doing so as a strategy, but because she was honestly too upset to try anything more strategic at the moment.

In fact, she was so upset that she hardly noticed some of the other things she could complain about - her fight with Batman had left her physically damaged as well, mostly bruises, though a part of it was an absolutely splitting headache. She didn't complain about that though - a part of her felt like she deserved to suffer for her failure. Besides, she had her doubts that anyone would care about her headache, and if they did they'd probably just give her some pain medication for it. And thanks to Dr. Woodrue, pain medication didn't work on her anymore.

Neither did any of the other drugs they were trying to give her, so she was happy to swallow anything they wanted her to if it would get them to leave her alone. But she hadn't eaten anything besides those and water since she came to the asylum, not touching the meals they provided. Which was a concern to the staff, but not an immediate one - she hadn't been in the asylum for very long so she'd only missed a few meals in total and that would hardly harm her. If she continued to not eat they'd have to force the issue eventually, though at the moment it was hoped that she'd start eating once she became both hungrier and more accustomed to the asylum. She wasn't the first patient to refuse food when they first arrived, and they usually lacked the commitment to keep it up for the long run.

When Grant asked about the possibility of talking with her, he was told that it was allowed. There were a number of safety protocols to know, but once he was briefed on them it was considered safe enough - especially since she hadn't actually been violent after the conclusion of her psychotic episode, even though she was considered to be at risk of it. He was warned that she wasn't exactly the most pleasant person to talk to and might even refuse to respond at all, being quite the moody one, but then again she did seem to save most of her raging for the actual doctors - the other staff she treated more dismissively though she was beginning to learn that if she didn't do what the orderlies asked then they'd come in and make her.

And when it came to that, the orderlies considered her to be a pretty easy patient because she wasn't a very strong woman - it only really took one of them to subdue her and with two it was easy. Not that Grant would need to worry about that if he simply wanted to talk to her - the doors to each room in the more secured area of the asylum came equipped with a window so that it was easy to look in at the patient. It wasn't a very large window because it needed to be shatterproof and that was easier when the window was small, and the security camera in the room was how the guards truly kept an eye on them, but it was enough to see where the patient was in the room. There was also a horizontal slot that could be opened, obviously the right size for a food tray but it also allowed any other items to be passed through the doorway as needed without actually opening the door. It was also easier to talk to and hear the patient with slot open, though many of the safety protocols were about the slot - mostly that you don't open or close it if you don't clearly see that the patient is not by the door, and when the patient is near the door you make sure that you're well out of reach if they try to make a grab for you.

Pamela, however, was rarely by the door at any given moment - instead she was sitting on her very uncomfortable cot, back toward the door. If someone was peeking at her then she didn't want to know about it, and anything else that came to the door was probably unwelcome so while she was sitting there brooding she pretended that it didn't exist at all.

[Arthur Grant]

When Jeremiah Arkham offered Grant a job at the asylum, he thought he'd start in a week or two, not literally the day after what happened. Grant put his two-week notice in and intended to go out just in case he decided to take up the badge again, but he had a feeling that wouldn't happen. He worked the nightshift as a patrol officer, so for now, he'd work a few hours a day as an orderly to learn the ropes a bit and when he finished his two weeks at the GCPD he could become full time here. Surprisingly there was barely a cut in pay, which upset Grant a little since he spent so much more time learning how to be a patrol officer in the GCPD, and hardly needed any training to become an orderly at an asylum. He talked with the head of security and learned some information that was already common sense who went through the police academy, but it was simply a formality before Grant could join the security team as an orderly. It isn't the job he had in mind when he decided to join the GCPD due to his father's wishes, but his whole belief system came crashing down just two nights prior. He still wore the marks of his shame, the marks from the beating he received from Sergeant Aldrich. 

He's barely talked to anyone since that night, only Jeremiah and the head of security Adam Turpin out of necessity. He's ducked calls from his father, mother, and texts from his brothers. No one knows what happened yet, no one knows he put in his two weeks to quit being a police officer. He didn't know how to tell them, not yet, but he was sure it would come to him at some point. He wasn't really worried about his family, he wasn't worried about quitting his job, he was worried about the woman that he helped bring to Arkham Asylum. He had since learned her name was Pamela Isley, she was the occupant of the manor they picked her up from. He couldn't feel guilty for the shiner she received from the tumble in the car. He also wondered about her, he wondered what happened in the first place. It was some sort of twisted fate that led him and Sergeant Aldrich that night. It's only been two days but it has replayed in his head over and over again. Could have he done anything differently? 

He watched her for a moment when walking down the hall that contained the cells. He was on his way to speak to Turpin, he hesitated for a moment while he stood there, looking at her. He didn't linger long, because he felt like a creep looking at someone that didn't even know he was present. He decided to go find Turpin, as he understood it, they were going to move a dangerous patient with several other orderlies, there was the max number of orderlies ever needed plus Grant, just so he could observe how it happened. Turpin felt like he was safe enough to take him through it right away, he was technically still a police officer so someone like Grant would have no trouble dealing with a patient with eight other orderlies. 

He went home that night thinking about Isley and the night he 'met' her. The night everything changed. 

---

Grant wasn't at the asylum the third day after the night he and Sergeant Aldrich brought Pamela Isley to Arkham. Jeremiah felt that maybe he needed a full day off after what happened, and it was Sunday so he didn't have a shift with the GCPD either. He went to dinner with his parents, even after dodging all of their calls. This is when he told everyone that he was quitting the GCPD. His father kicked him out of the house, and now he lied in bed thinking about what happened. He felt sorry for himself, and he knew that wouldn't help anything but he couldn't help himself. He wondered if he made the right choice, should he stick it out in the GCPD and just ask to be with another patrol officer that wasn't Sergeant Aldrich, but something about that didn't feel right. He went to bed thinking about past choices, still on the fence on whether or not he made the right choice. 

---

The next day he was back at the Asylum and he noticed a difference in Pamela, she appeared as if she was acting nice? Or at least she wasn't moping anymore. Perhaps he could talk to her now, but about what? He found himself near her cell. At this point he managed to work up enough courage, maybe because she was being nice it could mean that she might actually respond to him. It wasn't out of the question that she could just be acting, but it mattered little to him. He felt responsible for an injury she suffered and if his father taught him one good thing it was when to be accountable for your actions. So he'd let caution fly out the window, and in an act of naive confidence, he decided to apologize. He would knock on the door just for a moment, waiting a brief second before speaking his piece. "Ms. Isley, my name is Arthur Grant... Officer Grant. I was one of the officers that brought you here. I wanted to apologize for the bump on your head, the one from the car crash? You deserved to be treated better, and I am truly sorry." He felt a little better and waited just a moment just in case she did reply but had a feeling she wouldn't know what to say or want to reply at all. She now knew who he was and he was sorry for his hand in what happened that night, but he wasn't really sure if it changed anything. It sure as hell didn't feel like anything has changed.

[Pamela Isley]

A couple of days had made a huge difference to Pamela. While time had not altered her feelings very much, it had made them less raw and therefore more easily hidden. And it seemed that hiding her feelings was what she would have to do in the asylum - expressing them only led to more questions about her sanity. And it seemed that her only way out of this place was for them to decide that she fit their arbitrary definition of sane.

Though more immediately, she just wanted to be rid of being labeled as potentially violent - that seemed to be the source of most of what was unpleasant about her current situation. And being angry, even though it was completely justified, didn't seem to encourage them to believe that she wouldn't be violent so she hid her anger. Fortunately, she was very good at hiding her emotions. In fact, the change was so abrupt that they didn't trust it, but they would in time - she could play the long game.

The difference of a couple of days even extended into how she sat around in her cell. Rather than sitting with her back to the door, she lounged on her back - apparently staring at the ceiling. She wouldn't exactly call herself bored, though - she had a lot on her mind, so being alone with her own thoughts gave her plenty to do, even if it would be more pleasant if she had anything else to do. Which was why she was so quick to turn her head when there was a knock on her door.

Her expression was quite passive when the unfamiliar man began to speak but quickly became curious. She didn't immediately respond with words, but she did immediately get up and walk over to the door. Even though they'd technically met before she hadn't exactly been herself at the time so, in a way, he was seeing her for the first time. She held herself with a certain regal air that seemed to be quite at odds with both her surroundings and what she was wearing. But her manner was mild as she simply stepped up to the small window so that she could see him properly.

"You look like an orderly to me," she commented with a curious smile. Though her words were just audible, her voice was severely muffled by the thick, reinforced door. This was partially by design - the patients in this section in addition to being possibly dangerous were sometimes also screamers so it reduced the effect of that problem. That his clothing didn't match the job title he'd given was hardly the only oddity she found in what he'd just said, but she was still trying to decide what to make of the rest.

Especially the part about a car crash? Though now that he mentioned it she didn't remember Batman hitting her in the head, even though she was sporting quite the lovely bruise. Still, her first theory was that he was another patient, who'd offed one of the orderlies and stole the uniform - wouldn't be the first time, or so she understood.

[Arthur Grant]

The look on her face and her tone was as if he was unfamiliar to her. Arthur didn't feel like this was impossible since she didn't seem like herself that night and that car crash was a good knock for everyone involved. Arthur still had sores leftover from that night, physical and mental. Her voice seemed like she was capable of inflicting more of both of these, she had some sort of regal air to her. That sort of 'I'm better than everyone else and I know it' attitude. Arthur's dad had a very similar attitude and since Arthur grew up in a wealthy family most of his classmates and acquaintances from when he was growing up had it too. He didn't like it, but what are you supposed to do? He still believed that she didn't deserve to be treated the way she was treated that night, she was treated like a piece of trash like a lesser human by Sergeant Aldrich. Whenever he thought of that man Arthur would feel his knees weaken. It wasn't becoming of him to be afraid, he was a member of the most influential cop family in Gotham City, he should have taken that beating the way he did. He could have told his dad, he could have gotten Sergeant Aldrich removed most likely but Arthur opted not to do that. It could have been because he was afraid or because he truly didn't want to be an officer anymore. 

That was the first injustice he had witnessed while being a member of the GCPD, he had heard of others but he was never at the center of one. "Uhhh... Yeah, I am an orderly now actually..." He paused for a moment realizing what he did say at first didn't make a ton of sense, especially if she didn't really remember the events of that night. "[My partner and I received a call..." He paused again, he didn't know how much she should know about what happened. He wondered how much she remembered, she probably remembered her incursion with Batman, right? He was unsure how he should continue, he decided to just be honest. That might ultimately be a bad decision, but life was about making decisions and that doesn't mean you always make the right one.

You just have to do what you think is right, and the rest will usually work itself out.

"The call was at your manor, we responded to it. It seemed like you had a run-in with the Batman. You were left tied up... Ultimately I was able to convince my partner to let you be admitted here rather than being submitted to regular booking at the station. Part of that... 'negotiation' was the car crash. Dr. Arkham offered me a job and I wanted to take the time to apologize." Arthur hadn't talked this much since the night this had all happened. After getting all of that out he felt tired. It wasn't the best explanation but he felt exhausted after the words he was able to get out.

"I know that isn't the best explanation but I'm sure Dr. Arkham would be able to fill you in if you were truly curious. Just know that I am sorry for what happened." He tried to force a smile, he wasn't even sure if he should have talked to her at all but he had that nagging feeling that wouldn't leave him alone. He was raised to be a police officer, he wanted to help people but it felt like that sort of desire for compassion towards others didn't run in his dad's side of the family. He suddenly felt sad, felt like everything he has done during his life has been done in vain

"Again I'm sorry, but I better get back to work." He didn't wait for her to reply he just sort of left before he kept repeating how sorry he was. This was a mistake, he doesn't plan on talking to her again and maybe he'll be able to make peace with what happened that night.

Hopefully, but probably not anytime soon.

[Pamela Isley]

As exciting as her first theory was, the more Pamela heard the more she had to admit that what he was saying made sense. Not that the tale he had to tell wasn't interesting to her in its own right - in fact, she wasn't sure what to make of it at first. Her expression was simply passive and listening as he explained what happened, betraying no more trace of recognition when he mentioned Batman as she did to the rest of it.

Though it set her mind churning for multiple reasons and on multiple levels. On the more immediate level, she recognized the significance of the fact that the young man had apparently quit over the incident, even accepting the undoubtedly less glamorous job of being an orderly instead - that was surely significant. But also significant was the fact that it was his fault that she was here instead of in police custody. Which was a mixed bag - she didn't appreciate the fact that she was being labeled as crazy, but on the other hand her little conversation with Commissioner Loeb made it clear to her that it would have been no picnic to have ended up there either.

And all of that was nothing compared to learning that there had been some sort of a car crash. Was that on her file or had it been assumed that all of her injuries had been caused by Batman? And what to do with that information? She knew that she wouldn't be asking Dr. Arkham about it, that was for sure - she didn't trust the man. She didn't trust this Arthur either, for that matter - oh, she suspected that he was telling the truth right at this moment because she noted the frailness of his confidence and the uncertainty about simply talking to her. Including, annoyingly enough, not thinking to be sure that she could even hear him properly, though at least the block of cells was otherwise quiet for the moment so that she could still understand if she concentrated.

But though she was certain that she wanted to do something about what he had said, she was uncertain about what it was exactly. She was still adjusting to being in the asylum, after all, and she needed time to think over this new information first. For the moment she simply looked him in the eye and gave him a sincere, "Thank you." Or at least it looked sincere - accustomed as she was to the false pretenses of the elite and all the things that they say to pretend to be polite, she also knew how to say the very same things with the tender expression of someone truly moved by an apology. Truthfully she wasn't sure how thankful she was or not - she wasn't sure yet. Either way, she was not concerned because if Arthur was working for the asylum now then he would not be difficult for her to find if she wanted him.