Cross my heart and hope to die

Burn my lungs and curse my eyes

I've lost control and I don't want it back

I'm going numb

I've been hijacked

It was a grim reenactment, her return to Arkham Asylum. Much like her first encounter with the building, she was delivered through the front doors, and abandoned to the mayhem. In fact, the ghost of her past induction into the facility was only to be overshadowed by the differences in her reception and armed escorts. Whereas the first time around, she had been met with no-one but a guard or two and the heavy, looming atmosphere the incarceration ahead of her presented, Nova caught on quickly to the fact that this time around was to be something else entirely. She heard the pandemonium before she caught sight of it. Flashes from many cameras lit up the gloomy backdrop, reporters shouted and clamoured for space at the front of the barricade and asylum guards struggled with them as they fought to maintain order - among the first few groups came another, more unexpected one, in the form of vengeful wounded. Littered with various oozing injuries and visible damages, this third group of onlookers stood out to Nova as the most entertaining. The scum of Gotham had dredged themselves up from the gutters and emergency bays that were smattered all over the filthy city to attend the imprisonment of their attackers. Maybe they hoped to scare them, or force them to face what they had done - the damage they had inflicted - perhaps Nova and Ivy were supposed to feel guilty and remorseful, even sorry. It was ridiculous, and outrageously funny.

If Robin was shocked at all by her sudden outburst of laughter, he did a very impressive job of hiding it. She levelled him with a glare, and parted her lips enough to bare her teeth. Nova had jotted him down in her mental bad books hours ago, and his unflappable, borderline antagonistic behaviour and rough handling had done little to improve her opinion of him. The way he would try to banter with the Dark Knight made her lip curl, too. Batman's sidekick, indeed. Wannabe puppy dog seemed more accurate.

They had made a deliberate point of transporting herself and Ivy separately, confining the more outright dangerous of the two to the built in holding cell that had been installed in place of a boot, and leaving Nova handcuffed and restrained in the back of the Batmobile with Robin. She knew it was supposed to be an insult, to imply that she was hardly any threat to them, but she was too busy stewing in self loathing and pity to give them the reaction they desired. It was a miserable journey - she had no way of communicating with her beloved Poison Ivy, and even if she had been able to completely ignore all of Robin's stupid jokes and attempted witty back and forth, Batman would catch her eyes in the rearview mirror every now and again, and shoot her the most overly disappointed stare in the history of the universe. That wasn't to say it bothered her, or anything - Nova was very sure of where her loyalties lied - it just niggled at her, that's all.

Upon their arrival at the dreaded Arkham Asylum, Nova was promptly escorted roughly out of the vehicle by Robin, and Batman circled round to the rear of the car to fetch Poison Ivy. She craned her neck to try and catch sight of her, to draw her attention and begin her prepared slew of apologies, but Robin didn't seem to be content with the bruising grip he had on both her bicep and forearm, and took a punishing hold on her shoulder, forcing her to face forwards. If they hadn't made the wise decision to muzzle her, she would have spat venom into his eyes. Ignoring the murderous vibe she was now exuding, Robin reasserted his grasp on her, and shot a glance over at Batman and Ivy as they came to a stop beside them. Nova tried her very best to get any kind of grasp on her beloved's attention, but the other woman was making a very effective show of completely ignoring her.

Useless. Pathetic. You're a disappointment. She'll probably ditch you and leave you all alone - maybe even for dead. She'll replace you, just as easily, you know she will. She hates you. Everyone does. Despises you. Look at you, Florence, you can't even get insanity right! Nobody wants you. The normal people don't want you, the heroes certainly don't want you, and the criminals of Gotham would gladly toss you aside like a used up toy ragdoll and never think another single thing about it. You're worthless, and you know it. At least now you've got a life sentence ahead of you with nothing else to do but think about it.

Nova let out a small whimper from behind her muzzle.

"Let's get this show on the road!" Robin enthused beside her. Batman must have given his consent for them to start moving, because both he and (reluctantly) Ivy fell into step beside them as they made the grim march towards the small crowd waiting for them. It was a relatively short journey from where they had left the Batmobile, which was admittedly a small mercy because Ivy's stubborn denial of Nova's existence was driving her even further into miserable insanity than all of her previous efforts combined. It was a fortunate thing that Ivy was also muzzled, because at least Nova could convince herself that she didn't have a choice in whether she spoke to her or not. Even if it was painfully obvious to all parties that she wouldn't have anything to say to her lackey, regardless. Nova hated her, in a distinctively loving way.

"Robin, remain level with me." Batman ordered, tersely. He paused, and then added, as if an afterthought. "Do not let them anywhere near the barricades, or anyone near them. If you detect a threat, react accordingly. Got it?"

Nova could sense Robin's eye roll in the silence that followed. Silence was inaccurate, though, because the sheer level of noise the crowd was making had reached a new level as the prisoners neared their location. By now, it was a heady roar of meatbags demanding their attention, warning each other to stay back, or yelling their hatred at them - a cacophany of nothingness, as far as Nova was concerned - and even though she was muzzled and at best confined to her peripheral vision, Nova could see Ivy was smiling.

As they passed the worst of the throng of people, there was a considerable surge in movement, as everyone who wasn't an armed guard decided to make a unified attempt to get beyond the barricade, and Batman and Robin made swift work of getting their prisoners away and inside the double doors of the asylum. There was no protest of innocence for Nova this time around, she knew, this would be an utterly deserved punishment in the eyes of the law, and the 'good' citizens of Gotham as well as their appointed heroes and vigilantes. There was no hope now that someone would realise she was a mistake, a lapse in the effectiveness in the system - that she didn't belong. She wasn't even here with dubious morals and dealings as she had been when she was residing in this place by choice. Far from it - once she had hidden here from Poison Ivy, only to run straight towards her not long after escaping and willingly fought in her crusade against humanity. No, she was here at no fault or consequence of anyone else or their actions but her own. It sucked.

The last she saw of Ivy was the back of her retreating figure as she was led away, down a corridor towards the maximum security wing of the asylum. Nova had still been muzzled, even then, and had failed when she tried to call out after her. Nova had tried to hide the tears in her eyes from the guards escorting her in the opposite direction, towards gen pop, but by their mixed reactions of pity, disdain and amusement - it seemed she had failed at that, too.

A week passed in solitary confinement before she was allowed a cell, and therefore an audience with the disgusting human criminals around her. They had lowered her priority in holdings for this stay, it seemed, because she was no longer in the cells where they would keep the likes of the Joker - likely because she was not here for her own protection, but the protection of others - and had now been placed among the common criminals and petty thieving meatbags that lurked in the shadows of Gotham's underbelly. It was a bad day whenever she caught sight of one of these types outside of the asylum, leaving a bad taste in her mouth - but now she had no way of escaping them - they were occupying the cells all around her custom one, staring and whispering and smirking on all sides. She glared right back, daring any of them to say anything. It didn't help that her new cage was located directly in the middle of the space, while everyone else was locked away in cells either alongside or opposite one another, against the walls. Nova's small prison was dead center, offering her no privacy or respite as the small dome she was enclosed in was entirely see through (though she was sure it was made of the same ballistics proof material the ones in the high risk criminal's corridor was, and therefore near impossible to break) and the criminals around her remained completely visible, even with the steady stream of murky coloured gas that was ceaselessly being pumped into her confined space. She choked on it, suddenly feeling woozy and weak. No, I can't be frail and puny in here. I need to be strong. I need-

They were talking about her, she realised.

"Naw, I'm tellin' you, I seen Poison Ivy for real, once, and that ain't her! S'just not, and that's that, Luce."

"Oh, shut up. That's bullshit, right there. I don't believe you."

"I'm telling you-"

"What if she just dyes her hair, huh? What if the red just washed right out, and..."

"That's so dumb. So fucking stupid. Haven't you ever dyed your hair? That's not how it works."

"Don't call me fucking stupid, you fucking bitch!"

Okay, that was enough. She'd heard enough.

"I'm not Poison Ivy." Nova managed to make her stare as withering and deadly as she possibly could in her weakened state. "But she deigned to make me in her image, so shut your ridiculous, meaty traps before I put you at the top of my list of scumbags I'm going after when I break out of here. Do you understand me, you useless piles of flesh and corruption? I will coax enough poison down your lips to eradicate this entire city! Do you understand? Do you? Because if you do not sh-" In her fury, Nova had not noticed the fog thickening around her, had not noticed the smell changing - her nose sensitive to chemicals, poisons and variations in concoctions did not pick up on the change - they were trying to make her docile, harmless. If she had not been expending her energy trying to verbally batter her neighbours into fear fueled submission, maybe she would have even been able to fight it.

But she was exhausted, and the fight with Batman and Robin had taken it's toll on her, and so it did not take as large a dose as it may have in usual circumstances to knock her out completely. Nova was weaker than Ivy, she reassured herself. It was okay. She would be vigilant and defiant and strong enough for both of them when she resurfaced, but for now she would...

Everything faded to a green tinged black.

I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you

So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do

You're worse than nicotine

AN: Hey, sorry that this is so clearly an establishing chapter but I'm not one to question my bouts of inspiration for writing when they come to me. I'm a slave to my own imagination and motivation. I've been updating a LOT slower after my laptop gave up and died but things should speed up in pace after my new one gets here (finally, I know) and then chapters will come flying at you from all directions for all my different fics! I also want to just say that I hope my descriptions and treatment of Nova's mental health and conditions in this story doesn't come across as disrespectful. I really wish I was more educated on and familiar WITH mental illnesses, psychology and all things necessary for me to give an accurate and realistic depiction of such things - but I'm not so I'm going to try and not put a name on anything or associate any behaviour or symptoms with any diagnosis in particular because I really do not want to be disrespectful. People really go through these things and I would hate to trivialise or misrepresent that for the sake of entertainment and my unimportant fanfiction. So, please remember that I am not a medical or psychological professional and that any depiction of mental illness or state is not meant to come across as an accurate portrayal of any kind of real life diagnosis. I have nothing but respect and admiration for people who have to struggle with such things every day, and don't want to add to the stereotypes or stigma against anyone. Love you all, and see you in the next chapter! In the meantime, get ready for the Batman: Arkham Asylum game plotline to start up soon, and leave suggestions or whatever else for me to read (please be nice, I'm a fragile baby bird).