Laugh Lines

Just Desserts

A/N: as we draw closer to the end of the story, I feel almost sad. I have the rest written out and am currently typing and editing. Its looking like it might be around 40 chapters. and I have a small epilogue chapter already typed up as well. A lot is happening, so enjoy!

~All we do is smite

For what we think is right

Sound of mind, bereft of sight

Denial taking human life~

~Marilyn Manson~

Bruce was feeling better, he had 3 days left and then he would be free. The thought seemed almost foreign to him. Free of the medication they insisted he take. Free from the real nut jobs that he had to avoid. Most of all free from the guards who made it their mission in life to make his life hell. It was late, and he was waiting for the sleep meds to kick in. His mind idly wandering to what he would when he got out. Eat real food.

He was deep into planning his first meal outside of this shit hole, when his door slammed open. He was used to this by now, he didn't try to resist anymore. He let the guards kick the shit out of him, and when they tired out, he would be left alone for a few days.

He tensed his body, waiting for the first strike, figuring this was one of the last times so it would probably be one of the worst. The sharp pinch and sting in his neck had his heart racing. Panic flooded his body and he jumped up from his bed, ready to fight. Once his feet hit the floor, his legs gave out and the room spun. He tried to grab for the wall, but missed. He stumbled forward into the man standing by the door. He tried to fight the need to sleep but his eyes weighed a ton.

"Nighty night Batman." The man holding him said as he faded into unconsciousness.

The blare of an alarm woke Bruce. He cracked open his eyes, they felt as if they had been glued shut. He reached for his face, he was overwhelmed by the smell of pennies. He recognized it instantly. He forced his eyes open, looking around. A red light was flashing, giving the hall a horrific look.

Bruce tried to stand, but the floor was slick, causing him to fall onto his ass. He looked down, blood was everywhere. He groaned as he looked further down the hallway. There were two lumps that he could only assume were people. He looked to the shoes, One looked like a guard. The other either an orderly or a patient. He couldn't be sure in the light.

The doors at the end of the hall opened, a guard and several orderlies were pushing through the doorway.

The guard saw him and yelled. "Hands up. Do not move."

Bruce looked at the guard in confusion. Who else was in here? He head hung when he realized the guard with the taser was talking to him. He lifted his hands up in surrender, feeling his stomach drop.

His hands were covered in blood, some flaking, some still slightly tacky. His wrist had broken restraints that looked like they might have been zipties at one point. He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry, throat sore.

The guard tackled Bruce to the floor. He didn't resist, too stunned to do much else than comply. He did turn his head to the side to watch the orderly as he checked the two lumps, the guard was alive. Breath rushed from Bruce's lugs as the guard place a knee in his back. Relief flooded him despite that fact, he hadn't killed them. They pulled the guard onto a gurney, rolling him down the hall.

The guard had re-cuffed Bruce, pulling him to his feet. Bruce's eyes stayed glued to the other shadowed lump on the floor, the orderly continued to check for a pulse. Finally, he turned to the men coming back with another empty gurney and shook his head.