In the Mind of Madness

Kenna had expected a bit of an uproar when she entered the Gotham Police Department, but she hadn’t anticipated being very forcefully held down and handcuffed then drug into a holding cell. She sat slumped over on the metal bench behind bars with a grimace, bare feet on the cold cement floor, wishing her hands were free and she wasn’t still wearing that stupid dress. Bruce said it would look bad if she showed up clean, and Kenna had agreed. But now it had been two days since she had a proper shower, and she was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable.

She could hear Bruce and the commissioner arguing in hushed voices, not sure exactly what they were saying, but aware it was about her. This was going to be bad, and Kenna knew it. They had no reason to believe her. There was evidence against her from left and right. The Joker had made sure of that.

Why was it so important to him that she was seen as a villain? Was she his new Harvey Dent? It didn’t make any sense. No one knew who Kenna was before she was kidnapped by him, so why would it matter if he turned her into a monster like him? Kenna shook her head at herself. It wouldn’t do her any good to dwell on those things. The only thing it could do was drive her nuts, and that was what The Joker wanted.

Footsteps came towards her and Kenna looked up, finding Bruce approaching her with his hands in his suit pockets. She stood up and went closer to the bars, watching Bruce with nervous eyes. He appeared irritated.

“Gordon doesn’t want to go public with this either.” he said and Kenna smiled, but he still looked unhappy. “But he doesn’t believe you just yet.”

“I don’t care. The last thing I need is a public trial. My mother’s already suffered enough without that fiasco going on in the news.” Kenna sighed and leaned her forehead onto one of the cold metal bars. “Thanks, Bruce.”

He nodded gravely. “You’re not in the clear yet. Gordon wants to talk to you privately. I’ll get you a good lawyer so --”

Kenna shook her head and cut him off. “You’ve already done enough. I don’t need a lawyer for this. They’re either going to believe me or they’re not.”

“You’re oddly calm about possibly going to prison.” Bruce grumbled, his eyes drilling holes into Kenna’s. It didn’t have the same intensity as The Joker’s stares, but she could tell he was trying to figure her out.

She smiled weakly. “Think about where I’ve been the past two months. Prison sounds like a vacation.”

Bruce sighed roughly, causing Kenna to think of him as Batman for a second. “If they try to lock you up I’m hiring a lawyer, Kenna.”

“Don’t worry about me.” she glanced behind Bruce at the commissioner, who was obviously watching them. “Worry about yourself.”

“I’m safe. You’re the one in danger.”

Kenna sighed and lifted her head off the bar, walking backwards to resume sitting on the bench. “Get some more sleep, Bruce. I know you need it.”

He fixed her with a frustrated expression for a moment, but it quickly faded. “Good luck.”

When she looked up all she could see was his back as he left, so Kenna resisted the urge to call the same words after him. She let her head droop over on her shoulder, hands securely trapped behind her.

It was going to be a long wait.

______________________________

“Dr. Archer.”

The sound of her name being said in what was hardly less than a shout made Kenna jerk awake. She sat up and blinked furiously, clearing her eyes of sleep to see who it was that woke her up. A man in a police uniform holding a ring of keys just outside the door to her cell.

“Yes?” grunted Kenna, stretching her back and neck.

“Commissioner Gordon wants to talk to you now. Come with me and don’t try anything.”

She did her best not to laugh as he unlocked the door and opened it. That wouldn’t be a problem at all. He ordered her to stand and face the wall, so she did, then the guard was grabbing her handcuffs and using them to push her along.

Barefoot in her stained dress Kenna was sure she looked abnormal, but that wasn’t why all the officers stared at her as she passed. There was hate in their eyes, and the heat of it made Kenna blush and drop her head. She didn’t blame them anymore. If she’d been in their shoes she would have believed every lie The Joker fed to the media. She knew that no matter what the outcome of this was there would be people that hated her, put some of the responsibility on her. It wasn’t a good feeling.

She watched her feet shuffle on the grayish tan tile of the police station, forced to stop when the man shoving her opened a door that had old, rusty-sounding hinges. She was moved inside, and as soon as the door shut behind her the formerly silent officers outside started a low mumble of disapproval.

“Dr. Archer.”

Kenna looked up, finding the commissioner behind his cluttered desk. His office was small, too warm, smelling of coffee and sweat. It was sort of amazing how dirty and outdated the Gotham Police Department looked, considering all the business it got.

Jim Gordon looked tired and suspicious, feelings Kenna knew all too well. He fixed his square glasses and gestured for her to sit down, which Kenna did rather hesitantly, as if the officer behind her would shove her to the floor again. Gordon nodded behind her and the door opened and shut again, briefly allowing a flash flood of outraged mumbling in. They were alone.

Gordon sat back in his chair, which gave a rather precarious screech. Kenna waited with her hands held securely behind her back, trying not to tap her toes on the floor out of nerves. Gordon was watching her, surveying for any signs that would give an inclination of how this would go.

He began straight-forward. “You know all the evidence stacked against you.”

“I do.” Kenna nodded, trying her best to look grim. Relief was still so dominant in her mind it was hard to be upset.

“How are you going to begin explaining?” Gordon put his elbows on his desk, folding his hands under his chin. Kenna could have sworn she saw his moustache twitch in agitation.

Kenna thought about that for a moment. “I can only tell the truth. Even if it sounds unbelievable, and even if everything points to the contrary, all I can do is relate what happened to me.”

Gordon moved things around on his desk until he pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, almost toppling one of the many mountains of files onto the ground.

“Then would you please start from the beginning, Dr. Archer?”

Kenna wanted to say ‘Do I have to?’, but instead she took a deep breath and forced her memory back to meeting Darla. That was really where it began after all…