It always rains in Gotham, and not nice romantic spring showers where mist rises just right and droplets are warm. No, Gothams rain is cold, hard, and probably acidic. It might be nice, if the fight were a rare event.
Oh, had she thought rain earlier? How silly, Daniela meant explosive free-for-alls! Although, they were rather similar, and it was also raining. That did make it hard to see said fight, but it was hardly anything special. Two blocks away Batman and a group of misguided gentlemen were duking it out.
Hmmm... No, that's too generous. Rather, he was delivering an embarrassing smack down. Daniela wonders how many will be her patients in the coming months. At least one, surely. She watches the caped crusader hold a man by his throat and stare into his terrified eye. Definitely at least one patient.
Gilbert, a grouchy and old bus driver slams his horn while screaming profanities at the oblivious tourists. Most Gothamites have a, "been there, seen that," attitude when it comes to the dark knight.
Daniela wasn't a Gothamite by birth, but she'd never seen the glamor of the caped crusader. Maybe it's because the doctor had lived in the city longer than Batman has been around. Or maybe she should talk to people besides her patients.
Finally the tourists disperse. Batman was leaving anyway. Without a sound he slips off into the fading darkness, hopefully heading to bed. It's 6:00 AM! Surely the man needs some rest. Daniela yawns loudly then scowls. Yes, yes, she realizes the hypocrisy.
The road to Arkham Asylum always feels longer than it actually is. Darkness hides murky waters, which echo like a young maiden's wails. The street twists and turns. One mistake could lead to a grizzly demise. Some inmates would prefer such an end over staying in such hallowed halls.
Arkham Asylum rests upon a small crumbling island like a king rests upon a throne. That is to say, tired and outdated by centuries. Its dilapidated halls contrast with deadly guns and high tech cameras. Armed guards, chain-link walls, and spotlights invade every corner. One would think it impossible to escape if it didn't happen almost once a month.
Grouchy employees hide from the rain underneath a crumbling archway. Tom, a sweet but chronically misfortunate guard, stands unprotected beneath its metal frame. Gilbert struggles to open the bus's rusty doors, or maybe he's being slow on purpose. He always seems to take a perverse delight in torturing his passengers.
He instructs us to leave before others board, his wide yellow grin wishing us a most unpleasant day. All besides our good doctor disembark at a groggy pace. Daniela is the first to leave, although no less tired than the common individual. Rather, her body moves more like a machine than flesh and blood.
Her programming is halted by a firm but gentle hand grasping her narrow shoulder. Even when tired Tom has a warm smile, one that makes you feel warm and prompts you to offer one in kind. He steps back when noticed and says in his low southern drawl, "good mornin' Dr.Benzali. Can ya' spare a moment?"
Despite, or maybe because of, Gilbert's long drawn out honks Daniela nods. Her round gray eyes look right into Tom's. She always made you feel seen, our doctor. Like a bomb could go off behind her and Dr.Benzali would still be listening to old Tom prattle on.
"Now I don't mean to cause a commotion if one ain't there but there's been a bit of a shuffle these past few days. Patients changing cells, doctors changing patients. Figure you might not be made aware with yer ahh, unusual schedule. Also that dang email they never send and ah."
Tom shuffles a bit in place. He tugs at his soaked hat, causing more water to pour on his already drenched pants. Daniela smiles and her warm bony hands pat Tom's large freezing knuckles.
"Thank you for looking out for me Tom. I appreciate you always keeping me informed. Now, you've been up all night and I'm sure Suzy misses you terribly. I'll see you tomorrow?"
At the mention of his wife the old guard gives a goofy grin. His eyes drop and he stops fiddling with his abused hat. Tom yawns and steps into the bus's entrance, but before its rusty doors close Tom says one last thing.
"Stay safe, Dr. Benzali."
Daniela waves and thanks god the doors closed. No one was ever safe in Arkham and she didn't want to lie to such a nice old man. Not even a foot inside and the doctor already had a busy day. She hopes Tom was wrong. Change is never good in the decaying halls of Arkham Asylum.
The inside of the Asylum is a chaotic mismatch of decades and architecture. An old building transformed into an old hospital transformed into a newish prison. Crumbling gargoyles looming over modern security cameras. Even staff feel a permanent sense of paranoia and dread. Daniela was not sure if she'd outgrown such fears or became desensitized to them.
Past a slew of eye, ID, and fingerprint scans rests the psychiatrists lounge. It's a small room with ripped couch cushions and a refrigerator that always runs a bit too hot. Hanging crookedly is a clipboard containing a weekly schedule for Arkham's therapists and psychiatrists. The lists contain little beyond patient names and mandatory therapy sessions, and any other private information is known only to an individual doctor.
Dr.Benzali is a creature of consistent habit. She checks for peace of mind, but knows that unless a patient is cleared the list rarely changes. While her oldest patient, a Mrs. Velma Bright, would be leaving her in a month's time it was still too soon for anyone new. The surprise of reading a new name is nothing in comparison to the shock of who it is.
Daniela rereads the list once, twice, thrice! No matter how long she stares, the name stubbornly refuses to change. Edward Nigma.
She manages to not slam the damn thing down. Instead Daniela calmly places the list back on its hook and strides with confidence she doesn't possess over to warden Sharp's office. Logically, Daniela knew this day would come. The sun rises, sky is blue and Arkham staff is regularly abused by Batman's ever growing collection of foes.
But she'd found her niche! Her little corner where there were no Jokers, no Batman, and no shareholders breathing down her neck. Daniela could actually help people! And now she had to do what? Give that up? Join a never ending carousel?
Sharp's tiny receptionist, Rebecca, sits behind an ornate but small desk. Her round glasses slide down her thin nose every time she shifts or shivers, which is often.
"I would like to speak to Warden Sharp, is he available?"
Whatever ire Dr.Benzali felt towards the incompetent warden shouldn't be misdirected at poor Rebecca. Still, the poor girl starts shaking worse than ever before. Whether it's the chill in Daniela's voice, her hardened gaze, or her mere presence matters little. Our good doctor gets her appointment.
You could sell half of Arkham and still not have enough cash to furnish Sharps office. A remnant from Arkham's mansion days, it's larger than most of the other rooms and filled with red carpet, beautiful paintings, and unused bookshelves. Daniela can't help but be jealous, especially of the mahogany desk so large it seemed to swallow him.
Sharp is a small portly man with a receding hairline and a permanent stiff upper lip. He apparently took the old adage a bit too literally. Without looking up from his papers he mutters a gruff, "sit!"
He barks like commanding a common mutt. While grand his chairs are stiff and cold. Sharp takes what little free time Daniela dewdaling... ghost? He tenses and slams his round fists down. He drags his papers down like a monster snares their new victim.
Warden Quincy Sharp sips his tea after which deliberately folds his meaty hands together and looks at Daniela rather sternly. He reminds her of a child sitting in their fathers desk. He fidgets in his oversized set and finally speaks, "next time Dr.Benzali I expect you to make an appointment. I'm a busy man and I can't have staff barge in whenever they please!"
Daniela smiles sweetly and coes, "of course warden Sharp. You are essential in the running of Arkham and I hate having to distract for even a moment. I'm faced with a dilemma and unfortunately only you can solve it."
Like a spoiled cat Quincy puffs his chest. The warden has a bit of a glow and Daniela assumes if the warden could smile he probably would.
"Yes, of course. I quite understand. Most of the staff are simply," he coughs and straightened his already straight tie, "how can I assist you?"
Daniela let the question rest a half a second too long. Tension was building throughout Sharps portly frame but before it exploded our doctor replies, "I was looking at the patients list and noticed," she paused.
Dr.Benzali couldn't say their had been a mistake, that would offend him. He might have been the one to make the schedule and too imply Sharp made a mistake... well it would be a dead end, to say the least.
"Something disquieting."
Quincy raises his brow and purses his lips. Good, he looks confused rather then upset.
"I'm concerned about my performance with my newest patient, Edward Nigma."
Sharps mouth twists. A glare shins against his large square glasses and he barks, "are you telling me Dr.Benzali that you are too incompetent to treat one of your patient?"
Too demure, better backpedal. Daniela straightens her poster and chuckles. It's breathless, almost dismissive, and goes on a second too long.
"No Warden Sharp, as you well know all of my patients have successfully rejoined society."
"Err, yes off course!" He did not. But that wouldn't stop old Sharp from blustering.
"And, as I'm sure you're aware, I've managed to treat them in a timely fashion."
Quincy nods.
"Well I believe my consistent success has, in its own small way, shown the people of Gotham that Arkham is an institution to be relied upon! While I'm sure I have the ability to treat and eventually cure The Riddler it will undoubtedly take longer."
Dr.Benzali takes a moment to tuck a strains of curly hair behind her head. He's squirming. Sharp, more then anything, wanted to be mayor. Arkham was to be his ticket, lock the crazy's away and win the peoples love. He'd left his squishy position as a lobbyist for this. He needed Arkham to succeed.
"What about your other patients? Surly I've- you've chosen more then one man!"
"Of course Warden Sharp," Daniela soothe her voice sickeningly sweet, "I have three. One is to be released in less than a month's time with the other two not far behind."
Quincy crushes his pen. It's ink stains his palm as it drip, drip, drip down onto the floor. Sharp stands and pulls open Dr.Benzali file. One check mark, two pending. All they needed was his stamp and those filthy degenerates could roam his fair streets. He could always delay? Let them rot, for just a bit longer. It's what they deserved, it's what they all deserve.
But he could only delay for so long. And more importantly it would make him- Arkham look incompetent. Wait...maybe this was a blessing in disguise? Warden Sharp slaps Daniela's file shut. His back to the good doctor all she could do was speculate.
He sits, calm, cool. A smug smirk trying to form.
"I believe you may be right Dr.Benzali, that being said," Quincy takes a breath. Her expressions never changed, "we are regrettably understaffed." Not strictly accurate but Sharp wasn't going to waste Dr. Young's talent on that buffoon!
"I understand."
Quincy doubted it. They never did. But, to her credit she doesn't show it.
"Now let me finish! Because of your... unique talents I think you'll find the Riddler a brief challenge. I'll make sure you have your usual caliber but I think you'll be quite pleased!"
Quincy seems pleased enough for both of them, the way he beams. Daniela worries for his poor face, it can't be used too all that activity.
"Thank you Warden Sharp," Daniella gracefully stands and offers her bony hand, "you've resolved this masterfully."
He shakes it, head held high. Stiff upper lip and all that.
"Of course, Dr.Benzali. Always a pleasure."
Rebecca yelps as Daniela slides through the double doors. Our doctor gives a polite smile but Rebecca glances down at her ancient computer. Sharp was undoubtedly going to take some misdirected anger out on poor Rebecca.
Still, Daniela thanks as she saunters back to her office, her talk went rather well. All things considered. Of course exchanging the Riddler for someone else would have been ideal but she knew that wasn't likely to happen. Quincy was a stubborn man, especially regarding people.
Being mediocre and reliable was far better than being brilliant and dead. As long as our doctor soothed Sharp's raging ego she should be set. Hopefully Edward was as in her wheelhouse as Quincy advertised. What did he find in her file?
Arkham Asylum was divided into five buildings. Warden Sharp and the other doctors' offices were in Arkham mansion. Along with most records. Whatever sociopath thought that was a good idea deserves to be slapped. Arkham was an island large enough to host a small village. Arkham mansion was on the very end of it.
Now this might be fine, if the dock on that side of the island wasn't under constant repairs or they had enough golf carts for more then 3 groups of people at a time. Unfortunately, Warden Sharp really needed that new fluffy couch so Arkham's staff just had to suffer!
One such victim was orderly Kevin Liew. His bald head shins with sweat as he tries, in vain, to open her locked office. His arms filled with piles of heavy files. Technically, this should have been the job of a receptionist or a medical archivist but For some reason an island filled with violent criminals who regularly escape wasn't an appealing place to work. Also the pay was garbage.
"Need a hand Kevin?"
He practically jumps out of his skin. Files shack and slide but before any can drop Daniela scoops the top of the pile.
"Oh Dr.B! You scared me!"
"Sorry Kevin," Daniela says as she effortlessly unlocks her door, "had a meeting with everyone's favorite warden."
"Oh fun! Let me guess! Your not shooting enough thorazine in the patient's eyes? Shock treatments a little too in the book? He can't remember his phone password?"
Kevin drops his pile on a rather plain desk. Daniella's office is modest. With little in the way of personalization. No photos or tickets. Sticky notes and color coded binders are placed neatly inside and alongside tall metro file cabinets. Her rolling chair is made with comfortable and stylish leather. At least she hopped it was stylish , she paid for it.
Daniela chuckles while Kevin dramatically cracks his back. He eyes her chair and moan about the how long he stood in front of her office, how old he was!
"Sounds ruff, you should see a doctor about that."
He gasps but before he can bluster our doctor laughs and pushes her beautiful chair to his needy backside.
"Thanks Dr. B!" He plops down and continues, "but seriously. What did he want? You ok?"
"Probably, I'm working on the Riddler and I wanted to talk about that."
Liew winces. Riddler was an elite and doctors don't last long when dealing with elites. Kevin hopes this ends with her quitting and not something darker.
"Well that probably explains all this," he gestures to the wabiling stacks.
Daniela blinks her face blank. And then she pieces it together.
"These are all Nigma? Huh... I'm almost impressed. Horrified but impressed. How long has he been active?"
Kevin scratches his scruffy cheek while stifling a yawn, "hmm, 5 maybe 6 years? I know he was after Joker buttt," Liew snaps, "it was 6 years! Batman brought him in two months before Scarecrow! Man that was a wild first day. Batman dragging in that nut!"
Daniela quietly organizes the heavy folders, her eyes downcast. She picks up Edward's general bio and thumbs worn pages.
Kevin bits his lower lip, "uhh doc? You good"?
"Hmm, oh yes, just tired. What time is it?"
He checks his watch. Kevin wishes they were allowed to carry phones. He understands why but he felt old checking his 15$ time capsule, "7:35, why?"
"My coffee's wearing off faster than usual today, that's all.."
Dr.Benzali opens her bottom cabinet and takes out a can of Brazilian coffee grounds. In the blink of an eye Kevin snatches the coffee goodness from her frail fingers.
"You're a monster."
He chortle's, "I was going to make you some!"
"Marry me."
His insane giggling could be heard bouncing all across the mansion, "you wish!" He snarks while flashing a shiny wedding ring.
As he leaves, and she is finally alone, Dr.Benzali sinks down, takes a breath, and begins the hard task of studying one of Gotham's most dangerous criminals.
______________________________________
Edward Nigma sits alone in his cold, dark, damp cell. Only a single light flickers overhead. It didn't bother him of course, it didn't bother him at all. It didn't bother him that the flight would dim just as he was about to finish a word on his crossword puzzle. It didn't bother him he was forced to use a cryan. That was blue!!
Nigma chucks the offending instrument against a stained concrete wall. It making a unsatisfactory plop. Ok, so maybe he was a bit annoyed. But who could blame him! Locking a genius such as himself with these drooling Neanderthal! Edward could feel his brain cells decay each agonizing second.
CLOP CLOP CLOP
Finally! Like a drunken rino Jerry stumbles in front of the prince of puzzle's steel abode. He fidgets with his slack uniforms. The fools eyes dart back and forth as he whines in the most pathetic manor, "I- I have what you asked for. Riddler sir."
"Congratulations! You've successfully accomplished a task two weeks late!"
He stutters but before this malfunctioning lightbulb begins buzzes any further Nigma snaps his fingers and holds out his palm.
Hallelujah! The simpleton shuts his mouth and silently hands Edward a tablet. It's a clunky ancient thing. Its battery life is insignificant while its loading time is monumental. Ah well, beggars can't be choosers. Even if Nigma could have gotten a much nicer tablet.
Logging onto Warden Sharp's computer is always laughably easy. Why, even a child could do it! The Riddler would say Warden Sharp's mind had decayed with age, but could something that was barely there really decay? He chortles, truly an unsolvable riddle!
Ahh, here we are! It had been 2 weeks since his last. Ha, eventful therapy session. Legally every inmate needs both an assigned therapist and psychiatrist. Minimum two sessions per month. "Unfortunately" his last doctor took an Immediate early retirement after their last session. So Nigma was due a new doctor.
Ahhhd Dr.Benzali... wait. Who's Dr.Benzali? Oh. Of course! Sharp you imbecile! Sending a new doctor to the deadliest wolf in the den? When will he learn? The Riddler clicks on her file and finds an avalanche of words.
Ok, she wasn't new. How has she been working here for five years? Surly Edward would have noticed... Daniela? None of her former or current patients stood out to him. Besides a few goons he'd hired years ago. This was his opponent? This nothing of a doctor?
He was The Riddler! Batman's intellectual superior! He was going to break her. In three, no two months he would melt her neanderthal brain!
"Jerry," he snaps, shoving the slab into his oversized chest, "get me a better tablet! Two days minimum!"
Dumbfounded, hardly a rare thing for Jerry, the man stutters out, "Mr. Nigma I- I don't think that's possible!"
With gritted teeth The Riddler says, "riddle me this Jerry. What was empty but now full and will be empty again?"
The young guard grimaces and murmurs uncertainty, "a glass of water?"
"No Jerry, it's your bank account! Unless you get me that tablet! NOW GO!"
Jerry sprints away. Nigma scowls and once again, sits alone.
YOU ARE READING
Dr.Benzali and Other Parties
FanfictionDr. Daniela Benzali has what she would call a comfortable life. A nice apartment, a good group of friends and a cozy job at Arkham Asylum. For years she's been happy treating the "easy" patients but how will she fair when treating Batman's deadliest...
