Chapter 3

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"Hey," Adriana heard Damien say as he tapped loudly on the bathroom stall where she was kneeling with her head over the toilet. Half-digested pills and stomach acid had come up a few moments earlier. "Was it that bad? Tell me what you saw?

"This is the ladies' room," she said weakly. Her throat was sore. "Please go."

She heard him sigh loudly then walk out. After taking a handful of toilet tissue and wiping her mouth she sat on the cold, hard floor. Mostly, she was embarrassed. Every thought the Joker had penetrated her mind. She was able to see much of his past, which was horrendous. But he didn't remember any of it. He couldn't remember his past trauma. He didn't know who he was.

As far as she could tell, he didn't know much about himself as far as his identity, and he did not care to know. He had no curiosity about it. He had no weaknesses or vulnerabilities. He did not care whether he lived or died, and nothing could get to him to break his violent cycle. The world was his playground for the time that he was here. The details about his identity and background were completely useless. In fact, she began to wonder if sharing the details would only make things worse. Even the police officers he had paid off would be replaced by others paid similarly if she had alerted anyone. She had found nothing of use for the police.

The water felt great in her mouth as she rinsed away the taste of vomit at the sink. She looked into the mirror for the first time in a long time and noticed the bags under her eyes and her exhausted appearance. She looked away from the mirror and left the bathroom.

"Tell me," Damien said as soon as she walked past him, waiting by the bathroom door.

"There's nothing to tell," she said. "I can't help you."

"Dammit, answer me," he said and grabbed both of her arms.

"I will spit in your face if you don't let me go," she said. She was in no mood. "And you're aware I just puked."

He released her.

"Just give me something," he pleaded. "Something we can use."

"He has no weaknesses you could exploit," she said and walked away. "None."

.

.

.

After staring at the ceiling in her room for 3 hours after lights out Adriana felt the need to swim. She had tried taking the new pill again for sleep on its own with a huge serving of bread and yogurt. Dr. Andrews finally agreed to give her a second dose after her pleading. She assured him that the previous batch had come back up fully undigested. He was so reluctant to phone the pharmacy for a second dose, but finally he complied. Truthfully, she was still nauseous and was sure that a few more of the pills remained in her stomach...but what did it matter?

Her stomach felt a little strange but she knew she couldn't vomit again after such a small pill and meal. It was late but the guards knew her well, and treated her differently from the other patients. They knew that she never caused any problems and was allowed certain liberties that were not granted to the others. Also, they knew that the police had employed her and many of them wanted to eventually become part of the force. They treated her well. She left her room without being stopped and went down to the pool.

Water always calmed her. Her job for the police had fallen through. She had nothing useful for them. She was trapped in Gotham.

As she floated in the water and stared up at the stars through the glass ceiling, she thought about her life. She hated it. She never wanted to see Damien again, but she was unsure of how to end things with him. 

 They got along so great in the beginning, and he was so kind and understanding until he realized that he could use her. Her entire body always felt tense, even as she floated in the heated pool her back muscles felt tighter than ever. She imagined the ten million dollars taking her to a cabin in Montana, far away from it all. Alone in the mountains. Ten million she would never get.

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