A Doctors changing world View

Dr. Robert Bartholomew escorted Doctor Chase Meridian into the special area of the prison wing. The patient stood in the middle of the room. Doctor Jonathan Crane stood in the center in his orange hospital scrubs of the patients of Arkham. He stood there with his hands at his sides, doing his best Hannibal Lector impersonation.

“Doctor Chase Meridian, thank you for coming to see me,” Crane welcomed her without moving.

“Doctor Jonathan Crane,” Chase smiled lightly, “To what do I own the invitation?”

Chase could see Crane looking her up and down. She was glad that she had worn the fairly drab black wool suit with it’s shin long loose skirt and winter boots on this January day.

“Doctor Meridian,” Crane said with a knowing smile, “Did you know that as a doctor I am still granted access to the institutions reference library?”

“Is that so?” Chase said in a flat tone, “I was unaware of that policy.”

“Yes, they have a copy of your latest book,” Crane said with an upbeat tone, “I, of course, had to read it right away.”

Chase braced herself. Her latest book had been a breakdown of the very man in front of her. “The Straw Gasmask” wasn’t meant to be insulting, but it also wasn’t intended to be a positive look. It was as flat a clinical deconstruction of Doctor Jonathan Crane’s current ‘insane’ condition as possible.

“No need to be concerned doctor,” Crane said, “I am flattered actually. I must admit, it is rather fascinating as a trained and formerly licensed doctor of psychiatric medicine to read a book detailing my own personal condition. And I must thank you for the… clinical tone, yes the clinical tone you kept in the book. Doctor Bartholomew, what was the name of that associate of yours that described me as a whack job with a Wizard of Oz fetish?”

“I never told you their name Jonathan,” Bartholomew said, “But yes, a member of the Keystone City mental health community did use such unflattering terms to describe you.”

“Oh my,” Chase said.

She knew that there was a lot of contempt for Crane since the took to being the masked super criminal, but that seemed out of line for a doctor to say.

“It seems that one of the alumni of Miscotonic University decided to cast me in a rather negative light when word of your book came out,” Crane said, “Needless to say, I am rather upset with them. However, back to your work Doctor. I must say, that there is one aspect of it that I have found lacking, so with the assistance of the doctor and with the council of my lawyer, I have prepared the following addendum for the follow up editions of your book.”

“Here,” Doctor Bartholomew took out a piece of paper, “He hasn’t actually touched it.”

Chase took the paper and looked it over. It was a letter of endorsement, from Crane to the reader stating that this was the best book on him without getting access to his confidential patient records. He had even had it signed it as ‘Former Doctor and Convicted Criminal, Jonathan Crane.” The notary seal of a local lawyer standing in place of the signature.

“I will pass this along to the publishers,” Chase said, “I am sure you can imagine that they will want to consult their lawyers.”

“Oh fine, fine,” Crane said, “Now I am sure you are wondering, ‘why?’ and all of that.”

“If I had to make an assumption,” Chase thought for a moment, “You are pleased at getting one over on Lex Luthor.”

“Bravo,” Crane said.

“What?” Bartholomew asked.

“Come now doctor,” Crane said, “Of the Gotham Criminals, who has books written on them?”

“There is that one book,” Bartholomew said.

“The doctor Phil guide to Gotham?” Chase asked.

“We barely get a chapter each,” Crane said.

“What about the one Wolper wrote?” Bartholomew asked.

“Please Doctor,” Crane said slightly insulted, “I only blame the Batman for my actions as a defense in court. According to that kid, none of use here have any agency, we are only reactions to the Batman, not free thinking people.”

“I have to agree with Doctor Crane,” Chase hated to say that sentence, “But fresh out of med school and barely done with his internship and Wolper already has a book out? He wrote that before he had any real research or experience to go off of. There is Quinzel’s manuscript, but, while it nominally is about the Joker, it is more a log of her own loss of sanity and no publisher will touch it. That leaves Lex Luthor as the only other big criminal master mind with his own dedicated book detailing his actions, and that was written by Lois Lane. Now my book gives you a one up on Luthor since your book was written by a professional doctor.”

“Exactly Doctor Meridian,” Crane smiled.

The door behind them opened and in walked Aaron Cash.

“Doctor, there has been an incident,” Cash announced.

Chase and Bartholomew looked back at Cash then looked at each other.

“Is it Thursday already? I thought it was only Wednesday Doctor Bartholomew,” Crane said with an amused grin.

Chase and Cash looked at each other, then both looked at Crane before turning back to Bartholomew. Bartholomew had his eyes closed and was massaging his forehead with his fingers.

“I let one sarcastic comment slip in a moment of frustration in front of a patients,” Bartholomew muttered.

“And we always remind you Doctor,” Crane smiled.

“Let’s move this to somewhere more secure Doctor Meridian,” Cash stated.

*

“Hello Doctor Meridian!” the young woman’s voice was carried a very chipper note for the drab location.

“I didn’t realize you were scheduled to come in today,” Professor Arkham’s voice came from the doorway.

Chase turned and looked at the pair entering the Doctor’s lounge in the annex off of the high security area of the asylum. It was Professor Arkham and his daughter Astrid, both wearing pants and button down white shirts with lab coats over them. Astrid was just twenty, an already had a doctorate in Psychiatric Medicine, tall, blonde with a model’s body. Her father, the proprietor of the asylum, by contrast was lanky, dull and brooding. Astrid was so much like her mother, Ingrid Karlsson Arkham.

“I came in to speak with Doctor Crane at his request,” Chase smiled, “Nothing critical.”

“Fortuitous,” the Arkham noted looking at the TV covering the mayhem near Chase’s private offices in town.

“Actually, I was invited to come yesterday,” Chase shrugged, “But I had an emergency at Martha Wayne Memorial to deal with.”

“Well then, while you are hear, what do you think about the Johnson case?” Arkham asked, “I know the defense asked for a second opinion.”

“I maintain that the problem is financial, not psychological or spiritual as the defense lawyer or patient suggests,” Chase said in a mater of fact tone, “I see no reason to believe the claim of ‘the devil made me do it.’ What do you think Doctor?”

“I see no reason to accept his claims of spiritual oppression or the defense’s claims of psychological illness,” Astrid agreed, “But I am just an intern, what do you think dad, sorry, Professor?”

“Agreed, until we see something else, that will be the official position of the hospital staff,” Arkham shrugged, “But the Defense has hired someone from Keystone to come and have look at the boy.”

“Excuse me, Professor, you need to see this!” a guard said bursting into the lounge and rushing to the TV in the corner.

“What is it, ah, Ryan, isn’t that your name?” Professor Arkham asked.

“Yes sir,” he said as he flipped the channels to get the security camera feeds, “Padre claims it is demonic.”

The camera feed was showing bedlam in one of the common rooms. A few patients were floating in the air while others were fighting each other.

“Fascinating,” Professor Arkham intoned, “Look in the corner at the Johnson boy.”

The boy was hiding in a corner, clearly scared and confused by what was going on.

“Ryan. Pass along orders to Mister Cash for sedation protocols,” Professor Arkham said.

“Yes professor,” the security guard said before turning and going for his radio.

*

Chase never actually asked how she managed to get the penthouse apartment in Gotham, she had a very good idea of what was going on, but she never actually asked. Looking a gift horse in the mouth and all of that. As she opened the door from the small anteroom between the elevator and her apartment, the lights came on. Bruce was standing by the light switches next to the glass doors to the balcony. Well Batman was.

“Doctor,” Bruce used that sexy baritone ‘bat-voice.’

“Come to make sure I was alright?” Chase asked, “I was at Arkham Asylum. We seemed to have actual cases of demonic possession today.”

“It seems you were the target,” Bruce intoned as he reached under his cape.

Chase took off the wool trench coat and looked at the burned sleeve of the wool suit jacket before pulling that off and tossing it in the corner.

“Even got blood on my blouse too,” Chase muttered looking at the brown droplets of dried blood, “I guess that would explain why things got crazy at my office building and at Arkham.”

Chase looked up and saw that Bruce, was holding her old journal.

“Where did you find that?” Chase asked, “It disappeared two months ago!”

“Josephine McCoy, Alexandra Cabot, Meldoy Valentine and Valorie Brown had it in their ritual sight in an old bomb shelter off of the subway stop under your office’s building,” Batman intoned, “They had this as a center to their ritual.”

“I know their treatments weren’t being productive, but why target me for demonic attack?” Chase asked.

“I am not sure they were targeting you,” Batman said, “There are particular passages that have been highlighted and bookmarked… I haven’t shared them with my colleagues, but they could be rather embarrassing for you…”

“Oh, ah…” Chase as she walked over to the glass doors where her one time boyfriend stood, “Well a girl doesn’t up and move across the country to try and analyze and seduce a man in a rubber suit without certain predispositions?”

Chase traced a finger down the rubberized left peck of the suit feeling the hardened armor plate under it. She could feel the tingle in her panties at the thought of sharing a night with Bruce, with or without the suit.

“If that were all of it,” Batman intoned.

“What, show me a woman over twenty that hasn’t thought about the idea of an ‘Amazonian Marriage’ since the Amazons opened their embassies ten years ago,” Chase smirked, “And I will show you a liar.”

“Well regardless,” Batman said, “The girls did not survive.”

“Oh no.”

Chase wasn’t fond of the girls as patients, but she didn’t wish ill upon them, much less .

“There was one thing,” Batman said as she turned, “I am not sure they were trying to kill you. McCoy said something before she blew herself up.”

“What was that?” Chase asked.

Batman didn’t say anything, but instead just turned and left. Chase stood there for a long time before going to her bathroom, striping and showering.

*

In the master bath of the penthouse apartment, Doctor Chase Meridian smirked as she did her makeup in preparation for her morning’s work. She had an idea for her next book, an look into what makes masked criminals so egotistical, and wanted to get started on asking a few of them at Arkham for their thoughts.

However far from her apartment, Harley was staring at the reflection in her half-broken mirror. The sight of her bleached skin, and black and red dyed tips of her hair disgusted her. The black bags under her eyes spook of her sleeplessness. Since the nonsense yesterday, every time Harley tried to sleep, she woke in horror from dreams recounting her decent into madness and all of her crimes against innocent people. Each time she wanted to vomit in revilement and disgust with herself.

“What happen to tha devil on my shoulder,” Harley muttered, “Because now my Jiminy Cricket is waying on my soul and kicking my ass!”

*

Tim looked over his paper for his college freshman Psychology course. He jaw drooped as Stephanie Brown, his girlfriend and partner as Batgirl walked up. She was wearing a pink Bat Gurls hockey jersey, black shiny leggings and brown leather winter knee boots.

“Hay lover boy,” Steph smiled as she leaned over Tim’s Laptop to give him a kiss on the lips.

“Don’t hog him,” Cassie’s voice came from behind Tim.

Steph broke off the kiss and Tim turned to see Cassie standing behind him. He was even more shocked. The black haired half Cantonese girl was dressed in black sexy knee boots, black pantyhose, A pink plaid pleated punk mini skirt and a black spandex top. Tim couldn’t tell if Cassie was wearing panties, but it was very clear that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and it was a tit bit chilly for her. Before Tim could say anything, Cassie kissed him on the lips and her tongue into his mouth. A part of time said that wasn’t right, but most of him just went with it and started kissing her back.

“Ok Cassie,” Steph said, “Don’t want his upper brain to shut down, at least not until after classes.”

Cassie broke the kiss and both girls giggled as they took seats on either side of Tim. Tim was confused. He knew that Cassie had some degree of affectionate feelings for him, but she had never displayed them before, much less so openly and in public.

“So how is the paper coming?” Steph asked.

“I did mine on Killer Crock,” Cassie said.

“Nice, I did mine on Hugo Strange,” Steph said.

“That’s cheating,” Tim looked to the left and right at the girls, “You both have access to the notes down stairs on them.”

“So which monster did you do?” Cassie asked.

“The less obvious one, Rudolph Hess,” Tim stated, “All the other big names from the Evil Reich were picked by other people.”

“What about Stalin?” Cassie asked.

“Stalin? Yeah he was a monster,” Steph said.

“Yeah, even Khrushchev who replaced him stated that Stalin killed more Soviets than the Germans did in World War 2,” Tim added.

“Then why did Atkins yell at Collin that Stalin was hero, not Monster?” Cassie wondered aloud.

“Because the soviets and other Communists spent a lot of time producing BS to say that all war crimes were committed by the Western Allies and the Germans, and Communists are good little saints,” Steph rolled her eyes, “And Atkins believes that the Communists are perfect like a good little cult member.”

Under the table, Tim realized that both Cassie and Steph were rubbing his legs with their hands.

*

Doctor Chase Meridian looked over her office. It some how seemed different, it hadn’t been damaged in the fight underground between the Justice League and her former patients, but yet, it seemed different…

“I don’t remember having a leather chase lounge,” Chase muttered looking at the couch across from her chair in the conversation room, “Oh well. Who am I going to have to reschedule…”

Chase walked from the side room to her private office and pulled up her schedule and notes. She started to call and reschedule her patients and reviewed their cases quickly before each call. It would take a week for the engineers to clear the building for general operations. Chase looked over the notes again.

“Petersons, Jack and Dianne… Jack suffers from refusal to submit to feminine authority, Dianne is unable to assert dominance in marriage. Recommend hypnotic role imprinting…” Chase arched an eye brow, “When did I put that in my notes?”

She was distracted by a ding on her phone. She looked, it was an email from the postal carrier service that her order from Honour Latex had been delivered. Chase allowed the naughty smile to cover her face, with everything yesterday and today, she had forgotten she was expecting a package from them, she had even forgotten what she had ordered…

Initial appendix-

This was more or less the product of a long conversation with the writer Exxidor. A latex perversion of Gotham centered around “Neon Nightmare” sorry, “Batman Forever” original character Doctor Chase Meridian plaid by the lovely Nicole Kidman. I recommend you check out his DA and HF or Patreon accounts for his fan art of the lovely doctor and many other ladies.