Chapter Text
Shauna had thought herself safe when she was back home in her childhood bed with her parents around her at all times after months at the hospital. She hadn’t seen the other girls since and she felt some peace. That was short-termed of course, one could not go to hell and get back to normal after the things she had done out there. She thought she had it coming when one morning instead of finding her mother at the foot of her bed, gently patting her leg above her thick layer of blanket to wake her with a tray that contained a full breakfast like it had been the case every morning for days, instead of her breakfast, a tall man in a suit stood in the corner of her room.
“Mom, what is this?” She said, her voice coming out rough as she was still emerging from sleep, her lips felt dry, still sticking to each other with gooey spit.
“Shauna, darling, your father and I, we’ve been so worried… A couple weeks ago we contacted the best treatment clinic and told them about your traumatic experience. As we’ve seen you made little progress in recovering from uh… honey we’re so worried, you’re so… so sad all the time and we’re so happy you’re here but we’re afraid you’ll hurt yourself— oh God—” Shauna’s breath caught in her throat as she watched her mother sobbing and trembling, if only she knew, she thought. She isn’t a danger to herself that’s for sure. The tall man hovered over her mother and placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.
“Mrs. Shipman, it’s all too normal for your daughter to receive the best treatment possible. Rest assured we will watch over her at all times.” The man wore thin glasses, he had full lips and a nice smile. He was young, quite beautiful actually but something about him made Shauna’s blood go cold at the intonation of the word ‘all’. It didn’t feel reassuring at all, it was more or less a threat, as if his piercing blue eyes could see what she was hiding, Shauna instinctively pulled her blanket higher as if it would protect her from Dr. Frankenstein.
“Mom, why didn’t you tell me. I promise I’ll get better, I’m just tired that’s all. I just have to get a job and it’ll get better—”
But her mom isn’t looking up at her, instead she turns to look up at the man, “Ma’am, we told you there was a chance your daughter would react this way and it’s a very normal reaction.” The freak looks at Shauna with intensity like she’s a new exciting school project he gets to work on.
“Shauna, baby, I’ve put all our savings on this treatment, please go pack your things and stay calm, it’ll get better soon. I promise you I’ve seen the place where you’ll stay, it’s a bit old fashioned but you’ll feel right at home. It’s a bit far from Wiskayok but we’ll come visit all right?” Her mom doesn’t pat her legs, instead she backs away as if afraid of her own flesh and blood and for a moment, Shauna finds her disgusting. What kind of mother suddenly hates her child for being depressed?
But maybe that’s because Shauna isn’t depressed because she has been through a lot but because her mom knows she misses the wilderness so much she feels miserable here, but how could she know?
“No, you can’t do this without asking me first. What happened to you while I was gone huh? And I’m the one that’s sick?! Look at yourself! You’re shaking like a ratty dog!” Shauna has thrown her blankets away, standing up with such anger she steps forward to show the pale doctor that she’s very fine.
“Miss Shipman, there is nothing your mother would’ve wanted more than to tell you earlier but we insisted that she wait until the day of transfer—”
“We? Like, you, your stupid glasses and a team of even more frail men in white coats claiming to know what I’ve been through, that’s right, you know nothing!”
“Miss Shipman, sit back down and let me introduce myself.” The tall man asks firmly, but Shauna isn’t having it.
“What? Are you afraid my legs will buckle and I’ll fall and break into tears?”
“Sit down honey, please.” Her mother begs, sobbing harder.
Shauna crosses her arms, sitting down, “Fine.”
“I’m Doctor Jonathan Crane, I specialize in post traumatic treatments at the psychological facility located in the northern part of Gotham City, just about a three hour drive from Wiskayok. Not bad, huh? We will also treat one of your friends, her name is Charlotte Matthews. You won’t be alone. We have treated hundreds of patients with similar conditions as yours and almost all have found a treatment within six months.”
Six months. Fucking hell. Shauna gripped tightly on the wool blanket under her thighs as she held back from screaming at them to go to hell.
“What about those who don’t find treatment?” She says, smirking as she unclenches her fists, releasing the piece of blanket from her grip.
“Oh, you won’t have to worry about that. It’s only a few in a hundred, and often extreme cases.”
“So you don’t consider my case extreme? Give me an example of one then.” She barks back at him, her mother covering her mouth with her hand as she blinks more tears.
“Miss Shipman—”
“Shauna! It’s Shauna.” She bites down her tongue.
“Shauna,” Dr. Crane arches an eyebrow in frustration, “I cannot as it would break doctor-patient confidentiality and I do not wish to see my licence revoked. All I can tell you is that you don’t seem to be too far gone, according to your symptoms you are suffering from perhaps a mild depression and nightmares is that right?” He looks at her mom waiting for her to nod, bitch, “Nightmares, which could be the underlying condition called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s nothing too serious but left untreated it could lead to other disorders like Bipolar Disorders or worse such as psychosis and so on. This is why your mother sought out the best treatment centre for you and she will be glad to find you better in a couple of months at most.”
Shauna bit down the tip of her tongue so hard she began to sip on the iron taste of blood. Her heart clenched, reminiscing about the taste of Jackie’s blood on her lips. It all feels so far away. The room sways a little, maybe Lottie will be so fucking crazy they’ll find someone’s fresh organs in a secret room, just something to get one last taste of the best time of their lives. She sees it as an opportunity to do it one more time rather than punishment, she has to either way or she’ll get locked in this place forever.
Shauna nods, pouting and blinking rapidly, exhaling with false melancholy, “Doesn’t sound too bad,” she begins, looking up at her mother with puppy eyes, “As long as I can see Lottie every day. I’ll go right now, I miss her.”
Her mother sighs in relief, grabbing the doctor’s arms and tugging on it, “Oh Shauna, my darling you’re such a good girl. Dr. Crane will take such special care of you I’m sure you’ll be home in a few weeks!” She gets up, beaming suddenly as if Shauna was already cured from whatever illness this freak thinks she has.
They lock eyes, “I’ll get my suitcase ready, the straitjacket won’t be necessary Dr. Crane. Remind me again where I’m going?”
He laughs, it’s a cold and brittle sound, “Ah, she’s gaining some color in her cheeks, what a brilliant child she seems to be. A funny one for starters, Gotham’s General Psychiatric Ward.” He adds, chuckling humorlessly.
Gotham City, she’s never been, may do her some good to spend some time in a big city. Maybe the polluted air will somehow remind her of the plane fumes.
Or the smell of cooking flesh.
Jackie’s flesh.
She blinks twice, smiling as she gets up and fetches her suitcase, she feels the doctor’s eyes on her, observing her every movement, he’s making sure I’m not packing razor blades, cocaine or knives.
***
Lottie is waking up in a new room, her wrists tied up to a new bed. The first thing she notices is the sour smell that floats around, she wants to sneeze because of how strong it is. It seems to be night as there is no light at all, she tries to find a window, desperately. There is a green light that she can’t find, maybe from a machine but it’s still and coming from multiple corners of the room.
It’s no surprise that she’s been moved, before she knows it, she puking over her new hospital gown, gasping for air. She sobs, tasting the acid from her stomach bile, “Hey! Doctor! Nurse! Anyone! Help, I need someone! Hello! HELLO?” she’s shouting, screaming at first before she starts yelling at the top of her lungs. But, no one comes.
It’s maybe hours, maybe days before the door finally opens, she’s so high on some new medication that she’s unsure of how long she’s been here, she hopes the person walking in is about to tell her.
She blinks hard, adjusting to the bright white light, “Hey, can you—” her teeth chatter, “Can you help— help me?” her voice is weak, low, almost inaudible.
All she sees is a shadow, too blinded by the lights to make out who’s standing in front of her, a tall shadow.
“Hello, Miss Matthews, I’m Dr. Crane.”
The dark shadow steps closer, the face of a man appears but his features are still hard to decipher, her eyes are barely open due to light sensitivity, she feels him brush against the thin layer of covers until his hand grabs hers almost too gently to be real.
The more she focuses on his face, the more he appears, she sees his glasses, the pale blue irises staring down, his glossy lips, white teeth. But, she winces as she feels a sharp sting in her arm and the tip of a needle sliding in her vein and a liquid being pushed in. She gasps, shutting her eyes closed before reopening them and seeing the world is beginning to turn blurry. But before she knows she’ll pass out, she stares into the eyes of the doctor whose name she has already forgotten, they’re so blue. But a bright light comes into her field of vision, two gloved fingers come to hold her eyelid down and a soft voice purrs, “Pupils are non-responsive, no need to add a second dose. She’s already gone. Prepare her for phase one, the other as well.”
Not long after being poked at, she feels the doctor untying her and she wants to scream, to shout and to fight back but she’s paralysed. It’s like being in a coma with her eyes open, barely open. She watches as the man undresses her carefully, she’s not naked, she’s wearing granny white panties she doesn’t remember putting on, her breasts are cold, she shivers as he puts on a new gown. It itches, he gently lays her back down on the bed, “You can sleep, you need your strength Charlotte.”
Her mouth closes, her lips feel numb. It all goes black progressively.
***
When Shauna arrives in Gotham City, her stomach sinks, she’s never seen such a place. The houses they drive past are gloomy, breaking down, pipes leaking and electric chords just spurting from everywhere. The streets are impossibly dirty, covered in trash and either water or piss, dogs are barking, homeless camps are out every corner, it’s like stepping into the South Bronx at night except it’s a bright day. But then they drive past a bridge and enter a part of the city that’s beautiful and modern, with tall buildings looking like Chicago or the Financial District in New York City. She sees the tallest building and it reads ‘Wayne Tower’. She’s definitely heard the name Wayne before, it’s probably the name of another rich business man she’s seen in the news. But she can’t point out where she’s seen it or what it was about, not that it matters.
They take a turn, they drive into a parking lot and park. It’s clean and smells like gasoline, they walk in silence up to the nearest elevator. She holds on to her suitcase for dear life. They walk into a bright hall, the floors are white tiled and reflecting the ceiling LED lights, it hurts her eyes. There are men and women in white coats running around, nurses and patients, it’s just a hospital. They walk up to the front desk, “Dr. Crane, this must be your new patient.” The front desk lady is a short blonde woman, she is very wrinkled and square shaped if that’s even possible, her smile is small, almost mean, “Yes, this is Miss Shauna Shipman and her mother.” The nurse’s eyes widen as if she has been given a secret code and Shauna’s eyebrows twitch at that.
The lady turns to her colleague, “I’ll be back.” she tells the brunette girl, “Follow me Dr. Crane.” she says, dropping whatever she was doing to lead them to Shauna’s new home.
They walk for some time, avoiding to run into rushing doctors and ill patients, the hallways are long but easy to recognise, she would remember if she needed to escape, where the elevator was.
Her room is number twelve-oh-nine.
They walk in, the bed is bare, the window is closed and there is nothing but a small table beside the bare bed.
Then, she turns and sees the small closet doors enclosed in the wall, “You can put your things in here, it’s big.” Dr. Crane says as if it mattered to her that she had enough storage room.
“Thanks, do you mind getting me some pillows ‘cause… You know… I’ve slept on the dirt of the forest enough times to not at least get a soft pillow.” Shauna says, dropping her almost empty suitcase on the linoleum, it makes a soft thud.
The room smells of bleach, “Well,” her mother sits on the bed, “You’ll be well here. I made sure you were getting your own room.”
Shauna almost rolls her eyes, “Sure. Thanks mom.” She says mechanically, “When can I see Lottie?” she turns to the doctor.
He eyes her for a moment before he speaks, “As soon as you are observed by my nurses, we need to take a few tests, you need some rest from the trip I suppose, take the time you need to settle in and we’ll bring you something to eat. Then I don’t see any reason why we won’t bring you to the living area where you’ll be able to watch TV, play games with your friends.”
He says that like she has expressed any desire to rest after the trip, like she’s said she was hungry, like she’s said she wanted to watch TV or meet her friends, plural. She doesn’t like how manipulative he sounds. And she knows how it sounds coming from her.
She holds back any comment she wishes to make and smiles before going to hug her mom who seems to be on the verge of tears again. “I’ll see you soon, Mom. Thank you for taking such good care of me, I love you.” and she means all of that but her voice is so high pitched, it sounds like she’s on a stage reciting her lines from a high school play.
Yet, she truly enjoys hugging her mom, her embrace is comforting, she smells of cinnamon from the snickerdoodle cookies she had earlier and Victoria’s Secret pear glace body mist. She secretly wishes she had the strength to snap her smooth neck. But she knows it’s normal to be mad at her mother for sending her to the insane asylum in some weird fucking city. Fuck this.
They part, she waits for her mom to call her pet names, caressing her face like she’s a puppy, before she sighs and leaves, telling the freak doctor to take good care of her baby.
“Of course Mrs. Shipman, your daughter is in good hands. You’ll see her next week and we hope to see you then.”
Shauna wants to slap this guy whenever he says ‘we’ because so far she’s only met him. Like who the hell is we? He and the voices in his fuckass head? He walks out with her mom, leaving her alone, but he locks the door. Obviously, this isn’t a Four Seasons. She was so stupid thinking this could be fun. So, she does what she can: unpack her lonely suitcase.
When the door opens again, she meets the first of the ‘we’ the doctor had mentioned, it’s a nurse, male, practically bald, fat.
“Miss Shipman, I’m here to take blood samples and do a complete body check-up, do you consent to this? You may sign this paperwork while I get my tools ready.”
She sighs, grabbing the pad and signing without reading. She hands it back to the nurse who is putting on his white latex gloves. “Ready?”
After being weighed, measured, having a dry stick down her throat, getting her ears, nose checked, blood pressure and so on, he leaves the room saying he’ll be back in twenty with the bloodwork results. She sits on the bed feeling slightly relaxed in a weird way. She grabs a book and tries reading it but she gets so bored.
Shauna lies down perpendicularly on the horizontal bed, she stares at the ceiling and thinks.
The door opens and she sits back up, the same nurse comes in, he looks worried. Shit. She smoked weed last week, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Miss Shipman… I’m worried your glucose levels are abnormally low, have you eaten today?”
“No. Mom didn’t bring me breakfast.”
“Are you feeling faint?”
Now that she thinks of it, maybe she’s a bit faint. She isn’t sure. She shrugs.
“Alright, I’m going to get you a 50% glucose IV solution, are you comfortable with needles?”
“Kinda into it yeah.”
The nurse doesn’t reply, she presses her lips into a thin line realising she made an unfunny joke.
“Do you consent to this?”
“Kinda prefer not being asked if you see what I mean.”
The nurse clicks his tongue, “Ma’am this is very serious.”
Fuck it.
“Yes, I consent to being injected with sugar. You could add the better kind too I wouldn’t mind.”
“Have you consumed any psychoactive drugs in past ten days?”
“Does marijuana count?”
“Yes, thank you for confirming that. I’ll count to ten as I inject the needle, it’s a bigger one than the one I used, alright? Ready? One, two—”
She feels the needle going in, it stings harder than before. She lies down on the pillowless bed, “How long until I can see Lottie?”
“You must get your glucose level back up and you must eat before you see anyone.”
But that’s the thing, the room began spinning after just seconds of being injected with glucose, what if she was allergic? “Hey man, what’s happening to me? Did you add coke to this for real?” She starts to laugh. She tries sitting up but the room spins harder.
“Oh shit, what the fuck.”
“Try not to move, you could fall. Just lie down Miss.”
“No! Fuck I didn’t mean it— I didn’t mean I wanted to… I wanted to do drugs… Mhm Dr. Crane? Is he— Is he here? Cr—Crane?”
Shauna’s lips go numb, she feels herself relaxing into the hardrock bed, it’s like she’s floating out of the City of Gotham, her body is here but her spirit is out. Slowly, she closes her eyes until she can’t fight it anymore.
***
Shauna wakes up, she’s not in the same room, not in the same bed, not in the same clothes. She recalls everything that happened. Her mother’s cries, Jackie’s flesh, Dr. Crane, Gotham City, the nurse, the glucose IV.
She’s in a dark room, it smells foul like somebody has died in here, she sees green lights coming from two sides of the room, it reflects onto the things in the room. She’s not sure at first but she sees pipes, hears drops of water falling from the ceiling, the air is humid and hot. She swears the pipes are rusted but it’s so dark she’s not sure of anything. Her wrists are tied down to the sides of the bed, if you can call that a bed, she was complaining about her previous bed but this… This is straight up a post-mortem examination table, just hard metal covered with a white cloth except of being under it, she’s laying on top of it.
She isn’t tied to machines or the IV anymore, there is nothing in the room, no windows. It’s almost like she’s in a basement, a very smelly basement.
The door creaks open, a shadow enters from a bright hallway, “Shauna, you’re awake. Nurse!” she recognizes the sulky voice of Dr. Crane as he calls out for a nurse. Two men come in and grab the wheeled stretcher on top of which she’s laying. They drive her around on the stretcher, she stares at the ceilings of the hallways they wall through.
“Where are we?” Shauna mutters but no one answers.
Then at last, they lead her inside a room that has a huge light, it's a common doctor type of light that can be moved so the rays of light shine directly on the area the doctor wants to observe, she doesn't know what they're called. She hears the ticking sound of a nearby machine. She feels the hair on her bare body rising, the thin itchy material of her gown can’t keep her warm, by now she’s sure that Dr. Crane and the nurses can see the goosebumps all over her arms and legs. She could tell them she’s cold, if only she had the strength to.
Dr. Crane’s boots click on the floor she supposes is tiled, he puts on his gloves, they’re blue, but then he puts on a second pair on top of the first, this time white. Shauna realises that the first pair is most likely latex, the second nitrile but what she doesn’t expect is the surgical tape he uses to make sure his gloves don’t lift from his whole surgical and sterile outfit, she slowly understands that he is prepping up for surgery. For Shauna’s surgery. But, she hasn’t been made aware of any surgery?
“Nurse Olloy, make a final inspection of the uterine cavity of patient number one-two-zero-nine and try to get a vocal confirmation of presumed pregnancy.” Dr. Crane hands a speculum to the nurse who takes it. None of the nurses are women. Shauna feels herself start to shake.
“No.” She manages to spit out, squirming in fear.
But they don’t care, she feels the speculum entering her vagina, it’s cold and it hurts but then it gets worse as the nurse pries it open stretching the inside of her vagina and to her cervix, only now with the intense pain is she able to scream, it’s glottal at first and then it’s straight from her lungs and higher pitched. They shine a light down her vagina, multiple nurses including the doctor bend down to look inside. If she had anything in her stomach she would have vomited. “Stop.” She exhales out, in despair rather than a plea.
“Scar tissue on the cervical os proves a past pregnancy, Miss Shipman can you confirm or deny this affirmation verbally?” Dr. Crane asks her and if she could, she would spit on his face. Although he would feel nothing, no disgust hiding behind his surgical mask and glasses.
“Why does it matter? I could… I could have just told you!” Shauna mutters, feeling herself beginning to cry as they do not remove the speculum from her cervix, it remains there, wide open.
“So you confirm a past pregnancy?”
“Yes! Please take this thing out!” She cries out, tears falling down her reddened cheeks.
The nurse the doctor spoke to finally removes it, one last tear falls down as she sighs in relief. But, this is only the beginning of her suffering.
“Where is the child?”
Shauna doesn’t reply.
“Where is it, Shauna?”
Silence.
“When you partook in… cannibalism, did you eat the infant?”
“FUCK YOU!” Shauna yells with all her remaining strength.
“Seeing the state of your pelvis, you birthed a child and you suffered. With my tests, we’ll figure out the truth, Shauna, so you might as well tell us.”
“Please stop. Let me go.”
The doctor chuckles, “Prepare the patient for surgery, we’ll see you soon Shauna. Don’t worry, nothing’s gonna happen to you, you’ll be under anesthesia. Sweet dreams.”
Shauna moves as much as she can, wiggling helplessly, trying to undo the leather bands around her wrists when suddenly as she feels the needle sliding in her vein, she thinks of the animal that has died so that she could be bound to this table. Leather made of a cow, or a bull or some other large animal, large enough to make hundreds of bands like these. Did one cow make all the bands of all the beds in the hospital? Or did it take more? Will the guilt ever go away?
Her eyes close, she knows she’ll never wake up the same again.
***
When Lottie emerges again, she’s no longer tied, she’s in a rather comfortable bed, she looks around. There are curtains on each side, she sits up slowly but urgently enough that she feels blood rushing to her head. She lifts her legs and turns to the side so they touch the floor, it’s cold linoleum. She raises, feeling her knees tremble as she stands up shakily. The first steps are the worst, she’s certain waking up from a coma must be easier than this. She hesitantly grabs the curtain on her right and opens it, there is a door, she tries unlocking it but can’t. So, she walks over slowly to the other curtain and does the same but this time she looks down at another bed. A girl is lying asleep in it.
It takes her a split second to recognise her, it’s Shauna.