Clothed in our grief

Chapter Thirty Two

  a/n: So this is a short chapter, but I'm gonna get things moving on after this for a while. I think because i realized that i basically wrote fifteen chapters all surrounded on one night? But hey, that's me for you. I swear this story does end up having time pass by eventually, but this updates kinda short. Sorry about that, I just wanted to get something out of the way. Such as the things that the (Reader) had to go through during her year with Talia, though I haven't fully said what Talia's intentions were with (reader) yet, enjoy reading about something that happened to (reader) during that year. (Or don't enjoy, it's kinda dark)

"You're a maximum security Arkham Asylum security Guard, and you're new to Gotham as of how many months ago?" The Warden speaks to him, not exactly smiling in terms with happiness. But he's smiling in amusement as if he's about to award one of his employee's with some type of certificate.

"Three, sir." Your step father answers, short brown hair and greyish blue eyes looking dimly around the room. Paintings, documents hung on walls, official status things. He can't help but let his eyes wander over to the man's desk and seemingly lock eye contact with the bobbling head of the small Batman statue on his desk. What a strange little thing to have, but he thinks that some people must have their own hobbies just as he has his. Well, his hobbies include painting model airplanes with his step-daughter. The man before him? Apparently that's collecting bobbleheads, and putting them on his desk.

"New enough to know you can call me Warden instead of Sir. You're very good at your job Mr..?" He trailed off, it said here that the man had two last names, but during marriage? He ended up taking his wife's last name as his official one. Warden Sharp's never really seen that before, and he wasn't poking fun or anything while asking.

"My wife had some family tradition, so I ended up taking her last name. It's Rodger (L/n), Warden." As stiff as a board, back about as upright as he could get it. He'd never seen the Warden in person, really. As mentioned, he'd only been working here for three months. Almost four. But he works his night shifts here, and sometimes he has to do overtime which ends up running into day time hours.

It was so strange, sitting here. Probably the only room in Arkham that didn't reek of the medicated cafeteria food

"That's what I'm here to talk to you about. I got a call from Gotham Central Hospital about a Mrs. (L/n)-"
"Oh my god. My wife, is she-"
"Is being stabilized. I assume this goes into line of it being a family emergency, so you have the rest of the night off. All I can say is.." Your step father listened to the words being spoken to, but was shocked stiff with the news of his wife being put in the hospital. What did the Warden mean by stabilized?

"Will you be taking sick days off to spend time with your family? I see that as of recently, you spend more time at work than you do with said family." Warden says this as if taking any more leave than just the night is out of the question. And more than just the reason being that your step-father is probably one of the best guards that he can have under his employment payroll.

"If I have to, then I will." He says it determined, but deep down? It pains him knowing that he may have to work longer shifts just because he had to leave the night early.

But one thing he's not going to miss is the sound of maniacal laughter day in and day out of the one cell he and two other men keep guarded.

***

Damian slowly let his eyes open, dim rays of moonlight from outside the window right above his head decided to shine right down in his eyes, past the white lenses of his green domino mask. As if the lenses only amplified the moons rays on his eyes, with no settings on. When the mask by itself was just a mask, it seemed to intensify certain things. Like a pair of glasses, almost. But with it's multiple settings? Detective vision, infrared, night vision, things of the sort.