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She's Not a Saint	By : AsylumWritings Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 489 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman/DC Comics, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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I walked along the dining hall to pick up my food. Papa was coming to see me tomorrow, and I was more excited than I should have been as a thirty year old. The asylum was starting to get to me, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could really take being there.
As I waited patiently, I felt a hand grab my ass. Without thinking, I spun around and slammed my fist into the face of the patient behind me. The other patients got out of the way as I kicked him in the chest. He fell to the floor, and I launched myself at him, kicking him over and over until I was hauled away by one of the guards.
“Let go of me!” I yelled, fighting against him. “Let go!”
He dragged me to solitary, almost throwing me inside. I hit the wall, thankful for the padding that covered it. I was pissed off, and I knew I was probably going to get punished, but I’d done it anyway.
I lay there on the floor, staring at the wall, even as I heard footsteps approach the thick glass door behind me.
“Was it really necessary to attack another patient?” I heard Crane ask.
Sighing, I sat up and turned to face him. “Was it necessary for him to grab me? All I did was defend myself. He’ll survive, and maybe he’ll think twice next time.”
He pushed his glasses back up his nose, sitting down in the chair he’d brought with him. “You broke his nose and cracked half of his ribs, I doubt anyone else will see that as self defence.”
“Are you here to find out if I enjoyed it? Or just to tell me off for being violent?”
“I’m here to talk about your pathological need for violent and sexual attention that brought you to me in the first place.” He wrote something in my file, his blue eyes not meeting mine. “This is the third assault you’ve instigated since you arrived, and we both know that the police officer you killed wasn’t the first. I want to know if you’re getting yourself in trouble on purpose, just to justify using violence against these men.”
I bit my lip, ignoring him for a moment. I could feel his gaze on me, but I really didn’t know how to answer him. Knowing the actual answer, and knowing how to say it were two very different things in this place.
“Fine, let’s start earlier. After your brothers were murdered, you said your father became very overprotective of you. You haven’t told me what actually changed for you.”
“My mother died giving birth to me, so he was already pretty protective.” I ran my fingers through my hair, ignoring how knotted and ratty it was. “But after the shooting, he got really bad. I was basically followed by one of his men wherever I went for the first month. I wasn’t allowed to go to friend’s houses or out to parties. It got better after a month or so, but… then it got worse again. I was basically trapped in my home when I wasn’t at school.”
“Did you resent him?”
I shook my head. Now that I’d started talking, there was a good chance I was going to struggle to stop. “Not fully, no. I was scared too, dealing with nightmares of being shot in my bed. But they went away eventually, and I wanted to be a normal teenager. When he refused to give me more freedom, I learnt how to escape his watch. I snuck out, stayed out late, started meeting up with worse people than I’d been around my whole life.”
“What happened that made him more overbearing?”
“No.” I stood up, walking over to the door. “I’m not discussing that with you.”
He shrugged. “Then you can stay here in solitary until you start cooperating fully.”
I pressed my hands against the glass, glaring at him. “Cooperating with you isn’t worth it. I’m never getting out of this place anyway, and if I told you everything, you would move me up to maximum security. If I say nothing, I’ll be stuck here in solitary, but at least I won’t be with the real crazies.”
“You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Liliana.” He stood, turning to leave. “I’ll be back to talk to you tomorrow.”
I waved goodbye, sitting back down and watching him leave. It wasn’t the first time I’d been put in solitary, but it didn’t make it any less boring. Being alone with my thoughts for hours was not fun at all.
He was annoyed that she didn’t seem to be taking her recovery seriously. She was fighting him at every step, and he was unsure why.
He shook his head, carrying his briefcase down towards the basement. There were more important things to think about, and he needed to focus on his research. Nothing could come before that, not when he was so close.
A loud explosion shook the building, jerking me out of my sleep. I sat up, watching as all the guards went running past. Something big had happened, and I didn’t know if it was going to get worse.
The corridor went quiet for a moment, and I was debating what to do when the door to my solitary cell slid open. I hesitated, creeping over to it and looking around. There were no guards, not anyone at all actually, so I took my chance.
Running down the corridor, I checked at each corner before I turned. I could hear shouting in the distance, and what sounded like gunfire, but I didn’t focus on it. I just kept my eyes forward as I tried to get myself out of the maze of corridors.
As I rounded another corner, I was suddenly grabbed from behind and thrown up against a wall. I had no idea who’d grabbed me, I just fought without thinking. Pressing my foot against the wall, I pushed back until my attacker stumbled.
We hit the floor, but I recovered quickly, turning to find that it was a guard who’d grabbed me. Before he could react, I pulled his gun out of its holster, and stood up. I looked down at his now terrified face, debating whether to kill him. Deciding against it, I took off.
I pushed open a door, bursting out into the fresh air. It was chaos outside, with patients running around chased by guards. I could see the car park maybe 200 metres away, just a short sprint away. Screams of terror and insanity filled my ears, but I pushed onward to the gate. It was locked, but before I could figure out what to do next, it slowly swung open.
“Lili, this way!” I heard a familiar voice call.
Turning, I found my friend Luca waving me over to him. I sprinted over, ignoring the shouting behind me and the pain that was beginning to burn in my legs. By the time I got to him, he’d already started the car. I leapt into the passenger seat, barely able to close the door before he took off.
“Luca, what are you doing here?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself. “Did you do all this?”
“I’m flattered you think so highly of me, but no, I didn’t do all of this. Your father organised it, I just had to pick you up.”
I watched the streets go by as we drove through the city, suddenly exhausted. “So he’s not angry at me?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. He just wants you home. What made you think he’s angry?”
“He seemed pretty pissed when I got arrested, and then he never even came to see me.” I ripped a torn piece of my sleeve off, trying to hide how hurt I was feeling. “I guess I thought maybe he was disappointed in me.”
“We tried to get in to see you, nearly every day, but your doctor wouldn’t let us.” He squeezed my hand. “It’s probably a stupid question, but how are you doing?”
I shrugged. “I’ll let you know once I’ve had a long shower and a proper night’s sleep. Where are we going?”
“Safehouse in Gotham Heights. You’ll stay there for a couple of days until the heat dies down.”
It took a little while longer, but eventually we pulled into the garage of a townhouse I recognised. As I climbed out of the car, I felt so relieved to finally be out.
“I have to head home, but is there anything you need before I go?” Luca asked, walking around to me.
“Just one thing. Can you get me any information you find on Jonathan Crane?”
“The doctor?”
I nodded. “I have a lot of questions that I need answers to.”
“Alright.” He hugged me gently. “I’ll bring it over in the morning.”
I took the keys he gave me then headed upstairs. The only things on my mind right then were a cold shower, good shampoo, wine, and then my bed.
It took nearly twenty minutes to get all the knots out of my hair, and I was exhausted by the time I got out. Taking a glass of wine with me to the bedroom, I sat on the mattress and burst into tears. I wasn’t actually upset, I’d just been holding my emotions back for so long and I was so tired, I couldn’t keep them in any longer.
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She's Not a Saint