Jðkêr//Är†hµr x RêåÐêr ïmågïñê§ & ðñê-§hð†§

• Inmates (pt.5)

--3rd person POV--

"We can't afford another incident like that. You were all over the place in there." Doctor Stoner, Arkham's chief clinical psychologist argued his point vehemently. "Now personally I wouldn't give a rats ass if Fleck caved his goddamn head in on the door, but things are starting to get messy. And when things get messy people start asking awkward questions. So this has gone far enough. In my professional opinion I say we abort this experiment as of now, sweep it under the rug as best we can, and forget about it once and for all."

(y/n) felt her heart clench, but fought to keep her expression stoic. A mask of clinical professionalism.

"Please, Doctor Stoner, we've come this far. If I give up on Arthur now then it'll have all been for nothing."

The senior man raised a greying eyebrow in cynical interest. "Give up on Arthur?" He parroted, with a humourless laugh. "Arkham's finest psychiatrists gave up on prisoner 23147 years ago. Need I remind you of that, Doctor (y/l/n)?"

She inwardly flinched, hearing her superior refer to Arthur as a prisoner. The inmates were supposed to be referred to as patients.

"There's no helping that man." He continued. "This experiment of yours was merely to perform a clinical study. To try and delve into the workings of his twisted psyche in order to use whatever information we gleaned to further our knowledge. To assist with the assessing process of the criminally insane. Not, I repeat, not, to try and help him. He's a lost cause."

Hearing Arthur referred to as a mere number, to have him written off as a lost cause, incensed her further. It went against everything she believed in as a Doctor.

And admittedly, it pained her on a much more personal level too. Not that she could ever admit it.

Her colleagues were already suspicious. Having questioned her professional integrity after the scandalous kissing incident, which had quickly become common knowledge amongst the staff at the hospital, thanks to the loose-lipped guards who had found her in that compromising position.

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think abandoning the study now is the answer." She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. "Arth--I mean, prisoner 23147 is...volatile.. if I don't conduct any further sessions with him it could prove detrimental to his mental health, therefore possibly endangering the welfare of himself as well as others."

God, she hated talking about Arthur in such a way. As if he were a caged beast. A danger to everyone including himself. But she knew what had to be said if she stood any chance of continuing with her sessions.

"If word was to get out that someone has suffered as a result of our botched attempts at a behavioural study, it would bring the entire reputation of this institution into disrepute. Surely you don't want to risk that? Not when all I need is a little more time. At least just to...to try and smooth things over."

Doctor Stoner scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly. "You've messed with the head of one of Gotham's most prolific serial killers. Did you honestly think it was going to end well?" He rose from behind his large, mahogany desk, picking up Arthur's hefty file and tossing it towards her. "I'm giving you one week Doctor (y/l/n) to clean up the mess you've made, and then I'm pulling you out. Understand?"

Gathering up the file quickly, she clutched it to her chest and stood, the immense relief easing the tense knots in her shoulders.

"Yes sir, I understand. Thank you."

***

During that meeting, (y/n) had been grateful for the time allocated her. But as she sat in the observation room alone, it hit her with unforgiving clarity that one week wasn't going to be nearly long enough.