Claw - Chapter 4

Claw
A DC Universe fanfiction
Chapter Four: Bonefyre

~

         Doctor Nalder stared awkwardly at the floor. He had never heard his boss, Jeremiah Arkham, laugh before. And he was not surprised to learn that his laugh carried with it the same pompous ridicule as did his regular speaking voice. Arkham held his sides as he bellowed, as if he feared that he would burst from snickering so vehemently.
         Unsure of exactly how to proceed, Nadler decided to just wait for his boss to calm down before continuing their conversation.
         A few moments passed, and Doctor Arkham’s heaving began to slow.
         The man took a deep breath after letting out his last laugh. “I’m not usually one for jokes,” he chided in between breaths, “but that one certainly threw me for a loop.”
         Doctor Nadler’s face was stone as he stared at the ground. He refused to give any sort of support to his boss’ childish outburst.
         Finally, Doctor Arkham calmed down enough to resume a normal conversation. “So you’re telling me that a fourteen year old wants to kill Gotham’s most violent criminal. And that you’re actually taking him seriously?” He began to smile chidingly once more but suppressed further laughter.
         Doctor Nadler bit down on his lip. “I’ve been meeting with Mr. Walker for almost two weeks now. And in that time, he’s spoken of nothing except his desire to murder the Joker.” Doctor Arkham shook his head so slightly that it could almost go unnoticed. Nadler bit his lip once more but continued nevertheless. “And even if the Joker is not at risk in any way, Mr. Walker’s fixation is just too unhealthy to ignore.”
         “And this is why you’re suggesting that we move this ‘Claw’ to another facility?”
         “Yes, I very strongly advise that we do so.”
         Doctor Arkham was the only man Nadler had ever met who could manage to look both irritated and amused at the same time. Last time the two had discussed Mikhail Walker, Arkham had made it clear that he was not interest in the less ‘high profile’ patients at the asylum. And he seemed almost offended that Nadler wished to discuss the boy with him.
         “Doctor Nadler,” Arkham began, his voice sounding reminiscent of a parent scolding a child. “Moving the boy is not an option. He was sent here. And here he will stay until I say otherwise.”
         “You must understand, Doctor Arkham, I am only trying to do what is best for Mikhail–”
         The older man cut him off by slamming his hands on his desk and standing up from his seat. “Do I need to assign another doctor to oversee this patient? Because if you are unable to handle him then I’m certain Doctor Leeland or Doctor Bartholomew would be just as capable. At the very least, they’d certainly bother me less with these constant requests of special treatment for this ‘Claw’!”
         Doctor Nadler could feel his blood boiling. “His name is Mikhail,” he announced boldly, and without thinking. “And your insistence upon using patients’ criminal aliases only strengthens their resolves to continue operating as criminals.”
         All sound in the room disappeared. Nadler desperately wanted to gulp nervously but could not find the strength to do so. Why don’t you think before you speak? his voice whimpered in his head.
         Doctor Arkham, still standing, walked out from behind his desk and made his way behind the younger man’s chair. “Listen very carefully, Doctor Nadler. And choose the next words that escape from your mouth very, very carefully. I have been in charge of this asylum for over a decade now. And my Uncle Amadeus was in charge before me. My family name IS this asylum. So do not presume that you know more about the condition of mental illness than I do. And do not presume that you are morally superior to me. You oversee three patients. I oversee hundreds. You have been in here for six weeks. I practically grew up here. So, one of two things will happen next. Either, you will apologize for your outburst and walk out of this room, never to bother me with useless information again. Or you will leave this asylum and not return. And I will personally take over your sessions with ‘Claw’, and ensure that he receives exactly the amount of attention that you deem he deserves. Do you understand me?”
         Nadler felt as though all of the oxygen had escaped from the room. Meekly, he nodded and stood from his seat.
         “I am still waiting for an apology,” Arkham announced.
         “I– I apologize, sir,” Nadler whispered. “I was out of line.”
         Content, the older man took a seat back in front of his desk and began looking at some papers. He looked almost as if he had completely forgotten about this meeting.

* * *

         Doctor Nadler sat in the doctor-patient session room. He would be lying if he said he was not still shaken by his meeting with Doctor Arkham. The meeting had made him feel weak and insignificant. It had made him question his competence and his ability to control a situation. But, more than anything, if had convinced him that if Mikhail Walker was to get any help, it would be from him and him alone.
         The door to the room opened and four figures entered. As they did every day, the orderlies sat Mikhail down in his chair and secured the chain of his handcuffs in a metal latch on the table. They looked at Nadler to see if he had any further requests and Nadler, as always, shook his head and motioned for them to leave.
         “Hello, Mikhail,” Doctor Nadler greeted as warmly as he could, silently resolving to do anything he could to help this boy.
         “Nadler,” the boy responded curtly.
         “Is there anything in particular that you would like to talk about today?” the doctor asked, already knowing the answer.
         “As a matter of fact, yes,” Claw responded sardonically. “Do you think it would be better if I stabbed the clown, or if I strangled him? I figure I’ll only get to kill him once, so I want to get it right,” he shrugged, a smug look on his face.
         “Killing the Joker will not do anything for you, Mikhail. If anything it will only make you feel worse.”
         “I seriously doubt that.”
         Be firm and honest, the doctor reminded himself. “And I am seriously certain of it.”
         “Just because you have a psyche degree doesn’t mean you know shit,” the red head announced plainly.
         “Mikhail, please. I am trying to help you here.”
         “Then stop spitting out crap that killing the Joker will make me feel worse. News flash, I’ve seen plenty of death in my life. And the last thing I have to worry about is feeling guilty about killing a monster like him.”
         “This is not about guilt. You keep saying that the Joker is the thing ruined your life. But it wasn’t him. It was your fixation with him that ruined your life. You haven’t been able to move on since he left you behind. And you think that killing him will just fix everything. But it won’t. It will just mean that he stays with you for the rest of your life. But if you let it go and move on then you can have your own life, free from the Joker.”
         “What, haven’t you ever heard of closure? I can’t move on until I kill the son of a –“
         “Enough, Mikhail,” Nadler interrupted, rubbing the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. He needed to set the conversation in a different direction. Mikhail could talk in circles about the Joker forever. But it was hard for him to talk about anything else. “Let’s talk about your friends.”
         “I don’t have friends. You can probably guess why.”
         “Well I’m sure you used to. And I’m not talking about the Juvenile Gang. There must have been somebody that you were close to.” Nadler noticed the boy look down slightly. “Someone important you?”
         Claw refused to meet the doctor’s gaze.
         “You always say that you want to move on with your life and that you’ve accepted your past. Well you can’t do either until you’re honest with me and with yourself.”
         “Fine,” the boy said, trying to sound indifferent. “Her name was Cat.”
         “And she was a friend? Or something more?”
         “No. She was never interested. She was just a friend.” His face darkened. “But the Joker ruined that.”
         “And how, exactly, did he do that?”

* * *

         “’ey, Claw. It’s Cat. I been callin’ ye nonstop fer a week now,” a female, Scottish voice announced from Claw’s cell phone. “I heard that something happened between yer gang and the Joker.” She paused for a moment. “I heard the Juvenile Gang split up. I been a bit worried... Haven’t seen ye in two week. Call me back.”
         Claw sat on the roof of one of the many warehouses near Gotham Harbor, his cell phone in his deformed hands. He hadn’t eaten or showered in days. He played the next voicemail, pressing the receiver tightly against his ear.
         “Claw, why aren’t ye answer yer phone? I been hearin’ rumors that the Joker did somethin’ to ye and yer friends. Please, call me–”
         The boy was startled to hear a familiar voice – the very same voice as in the message he had just began playing – shout from behind him. “What in de hell happened tae ye!” she yelled, her accent becoming thicker as she grew angry.
         He recognized the voice as belonging to Catriona Macallister. Better known by most as Bonefyre, a teenaged pyrokinetic resident of Gotham City. She stood tall for her age at 5’11’’, wearing her standard grey shorts and belly shirt, both of which were mostly concealed beneath a large brown trench coat. Her hair was spiked and bright red and she had several facial piercings. Claw stood up to face her, somewhat conscious of his disgruntled appearance. The girl towered over him in height and looked particularly formidable due to her intense glare.
         “How’d you find me?” the red haired boy asked, his voice empty of emotion.
         “Me brother is a freakin’ wizard! I had tae beg him all week fer a locator spell tae find yer ass!” She was quite literally fuming. The air around her became hazy as the surrounding area began to heat up dramatically – a result of her abilities to create and manipulate fire.
         “If I wanted you to find me I would’ve called. Go away,” the then-thirteen year old ordered, turning away from her and staring off the edge of the building.
         “Oh, no,” the older girl announced righteously. “Ye don’t get tae just brush me off. What happened tae ye? Ye look like a mess!”
         “That makes two of us. Go away.”
         Something was definitely off, Cat concluded. Claw was always a jerk. But he seemed like he was really losing it now. His voice was almost completely empty when he spoke. This worried Cat. She was used to him being particularly OVERemotional when she was around. And his current state unnerved her, so she tried to calm herself down. She took a few steps forward and reached out to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Claw, what’s te matter? Let me try tae help–”
         The boy shifted to the side to avoid her touch. Somewhat hurt, she tried not to let it faze her. “I been hearin’ a rumor that something happened with the Joker.” She saw him visibly cringe at the mention of his name. “What is it?”
         “He ditched me.” He paused for a moment. “Why don’t you go do the same?”
         She didn’t buy it. Even though she knew very well that the boy idolized the Joker, something else must’ve happened to cause so drastic a change. “It’s gotta be somethin’ more than that. What’d he do?”
         The boy turned around to face her. “It’s none of your freaking business!”
         She did her best to contain her anger as she continued. “Bein’ that we’re friends, I’d say it is me business.”
         “No, we’re not friends! You don’t give a crap about me! Just like the stupid Juvenile Gang. And just like the Joker! None of you care!”
         “If I didn’ care then why would I track ye down all te way across te freakin’ city? Why would I call ye all week tae make sure yer okay? Ye don’t know what yer talkin’ about!”
         “Yes I do! If you cared then you wouldn’t just have led me on for the past year! If you cared then we’d freaking be together!”
         Cat was taken aback. But her rage outweighed her shock. “I don’t know what in te hell yer talking about! Ye never said anything about bein’ together or anythin’ like that!”
         “Well you should have known!” She noticed a strange look in the boy’s eye. She’d seen him angry before, but never this hurt and distraught.
         “Listen, Claw. Yer bein’ irrational. I’m tryin’ to be yer friend here and tae help ye out. Why don’t ye just come home with me and clean yerself up and we can talk about what happened? Ye obviously need a friend right now.”
         The boy sat silent for a minute. Bonefyre waited patiently for his answer, praying that he would use his head, for once.
         Finally, he turned to face her. He stared blankly at the older girl who he’d had a crush on for nearly a year. “I don’t want or need you to be my friend.”
         “Claw, please. Ye know that’s not true. I told ye about me issues.” She took a moment to swallow her guilt. “I told ye about what happened to Alasdair, Diah, and Sunny. Please be honest with me like I am with ye.”
         Almost without hesitation, the boy shook his head and began to shout again. “Just go away! I don’t give a damn about your freaking siblings! And you can pretend you care about me all you want! I’m used to it! And I’m sick of it!” Claw reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a small pocketknife. He held it up towards Cat, his eyes welling up with furious tears. “So either you leave me the hell alone, or I’ll make you leave.”
         There was a beat of silence.
         “Ye know,” the older girl began, both hurt and anger easily recognizable in her voice. “Ye have always been a bit of a jerk. But ye at least knew who yer friends were. And if ye don’t know anymore, it’s yer problem, not mine.”
         Claw listened to her footsteps as she walked way. They grew fainter and fainter until he couldn’t hear her anymore.

* * *

         Doctor Nadler scribbled something on his notepad and then placed his pen in his coat pocket. “And that was the last that you saw of her?”
         “Yeah,” Claw whispered.
         “And do you honestly believe that incident was the Joker’s fault?”
         He sat silent for a long moment before replying. “No... I guess not… But that doesn’t change anything. I am going to kill him.”
         A small breakthrough is better than nothing, I supposed, Doctor Nadler thought to himself. He resolved to try to carry this realization even further.
         “Do you think that it’s possible that you pushed away anyone who was close to you because you felt betrayed by the Joker?”
         The boy looked down, obviously knowing the answer to the question. Though his reply caught the doctor off guard. “Are you and I friends?”
         Nadler was unsure how to proceed. “I– I’d like to think that we are.”
         “Then would you shake my hand?” the boy raised his deformed hand slightly.
         Nadler had not expected the conversation to take this turn. “Sh– shake your hand?”
         Mikhail nodded.
         The doctor thought for a moment. He feared that refusing the request would offend the boy due to his deformity, and he suspected that a large portion of the boy’s anger stemmed from that very deformity. But he also could not shake the feeling that there might be a reason that the boy was asking for this. Could he really risk that though? If he refused, the boy might never come to truly trust his doctor. Nadler looked to ensure that the handcuffs were securely fastened around the boy’s wrists and that the cuffs themselves were latched firmly to the desk.
         He swallowed his doubt and walked to the other side of the table. He extended his hand forward and let the boy grasp it. They shook hands for a long moment before letting go.
         “Thank you, doctor,” Claw said and gave the closest thing to a smile that Nadler had seen out of the boy.
         The session concluded and the same three orderlies entered the room to escort Claw back to his cell. Nadler sat in his chair after the boy left, wondering how much progress they had made during this session.
         He looked at his notepad and reached into his pocket to grab his pen. But he found that his coat pocket was empty. He furrowed his brow, almost positive that he had deposited the pen there after they’d finished talking about this Catriona. After a moment’s consideration, he shrugged and gathered his paraphernalia before exiting the room.

* * *

         The three orderlies deposited Claw in his cell and locked the door behind them. The boy felt at his wrists, glad to be free of the handcuffs for now.
         He smirked as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out Doctor Nadler’s pen. After ensuring that he still had it, the boy swiftly concealed in back in his sleeve, readying himself for when he would need it.