Jason sat slouched in a chair in a semicircle of other chairs. Other patients sat with a doctor who was teaching anger management to the group of about a dozen. Jason's green brows knit together as he listens to people sharing stories of times that their anger got the best of them.
"...then I hit her. She called the cops..."
They were all pretty much the same story. Somebody gets loaded. There's a fight. The cops come. They go to jail. Really? Did these people have any idea what angry really meant? Not a single one of their stories involved killing someone. Jason knew damn well he wasn't the only murderer in Arkham. Maybe they had put him in the wrong group?
"Now it's your turn Mr. J," the doctor says as he stares at Jason.
"Are you sure you want me to share a personal story?" Jason raises an eyebrow.
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"That's the point of this group session, to share our personal stories," the doctor nods.
Jason smirks, "If you insist doc," he straightened slightly in his seat. "This one time, this junkie was stealing dope from me. So I asked to see his arms, which he hadn't been shooting into, so I knew they were elsewhere on his body. I stabbed him in the thigh and cut open him and his pants. I found the track marks. Anyway, I wanted to know who he was selling the stolen dope to. Naturally he wouldn't tell me, so I got a jig saw and warned him that every time he lied to me that I'd cut off a finger. I cut off his index finger, then his thumb. He was spazing out and just making the bleeding worse. But I didn't have my answers yet. So I had to corterize the nubs with a blow torch. And the smell, it smelled like..."
One of the other patients quickly leans over and hurls up their guts. Jason rolls his eyes with a sigh. Some people are such lightweights. He knew they weren't up to his kind of sharing. Jason pauses until they finish puking. Then, just to be on the safe side, pauses until everyone has gone silent.
"Where was I? Oh yeah, it smelled up the entire warehouse. So then I ask him to give me the name but he refuses, again, so I take another finger. Blood is just shooting out of the nub and he's screaming like a girl..."
"Ok, Mr. J, thank you, I think we get the gist," the doctor interrupted. "Now everyone, would you say that..."
The doctor is distracted by a guard approaching. "Doctor, Mr. J's got a visitor," he says.
Jason wonders if it's that horrible District Attorney has come back to taunt him some more? That man needed to die. He'd have to make it a point to take him out once he busts out of this hell hole. With every day that passes he gains more of the staffs trust. Soon that would play into his favor.
Jason follows the guard to the visitation room. When he walks in he sees Bruce sitting there in his expensive suit and tie. Not a single hair is out of place. Jason smirks and plops down in a chair across from him. Bruce seems pretty surprised to see Jason out of shackles. The guard leaves them alone and Bruce folds his hands together on top of the table.
