"Mary, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

Dr. Harleen Quinzel looked at the pig-tailed young woman across the table, who sullenly returned the gaze.

She had been a transfer to Arkham Asylum from the Lennox House, her file listing all sorts of problems with the girl, but Harleen wasn't seeing it. Her stepfather had described her as violent and a danger to others, but Mary had not said a peep the few days she had been here, much less tried to touch anyone else. She looked like she should've been babysitting some rich brats, not sitting in a Gotham asylum in an oversized orange jumpsuit.

Then again, she also stabbed an orderly and helped another patient escape before getting to Arkham, so there was that.

Harleen sighed and flipped through Mary's file. "Can you tell me anything about Abigail's disappearance?"

Mary furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but said nothing.

Harleen quickly elaborated. "It says here that a fire was started in a utility closet, and you distracted the guards while Abigail ran out the front fate."

Mary's expression cleared, as if that explained everything.

"Did you not know her name was Abigail?" Harleen asked. Mary shook her head slightly. "What did you call her?"

Mary just looked off to the side, through the barred window. Harleen sighed and closed the file. This was a waste of time; she wasn't getting anything out of this girl. Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard a small voice.

"Sweet Pea."

Mary's voice was coarse and croaky from lack of use. She coughed slightly, and Harleen got her a cup of water. Mary drank slowly and nodded her thanks.

She sat down again. "You called her Sweet Pea?" Mary nodded. "Why did you call her that?"

Mary shrugged. "We just did."

"Mary-"

"Please don't call me that," she whispered, her eyes closed.

"What would you like me to call you?" Harleen asked. If it kept her talking, she would call Mary anything she liked.

The pig-tailed girl looked out the window again.

"My friends called me… Babydoll."

"Well, Babydoll, nice to meet you."