HOMECOMING

PART II

By Ed Ainsworth

Kate Kane sat in silence in the observation room. She knew she was being watched through the two way mirror, and stared, unflinchingly into the centre of it. She could see her own face, vague and unfocused, in her increasingly disparate vision.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to focus in on her own features. She found it hard. Her vision slid off her face, flat, emotionless features and eyes. Widening, she continued to stare, her face becoming increasingly more shocked in appearance, until that too, slid off.

Maggie Sawyer came through the door first, a chocolate bar, and coffee in hand. She left the door open, and sat down opposite Kate. She took the lid off the coffee, and unwrapping the chocolate. Eyes locked, looking at Kate from under her brow, she dipped it into the steaming liquid and took a bite, making sure she loudly slurped at the melted chocolate.

“Still doing that?” Renee Montoya asked, coming through the door. She held a folder in her hand, and sat down heavily, slouching in her chair next to Maggie. Renee opened her legs wide, and slumped further, staring at the ceiling. Maggie said nothing, and the trio sat in silence until the Chocolate had been consumed.

“Professional,” Renee said, under the breath, before opening the folder and setting it down on the table before them.

“You’ve not moved a muscle in nearly an hour,” Maggie said, leaning forwards to blow the steam off her coffee, “That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

“I’d say so,” Renee echoed, “Psychopath territory.”

Maggie shook her head slowly, never breaking her eyes off Kate.

“No, something more here. Trauma.”

Renee rolled her eyes and put her hands flat on the table.

“Everyone has trauma, Maggie. We’re the generation of Trauma. Metropolis has a big tentacle monster wandering around and men flying at it.”

“It was a Starfish,” Maggie said, “Those are arms, not Tentacles.”

A glimmer of memory for Kate there. She was reminded of someone.

Maggie arched an eyebrow.

“That got your attention then?” she asked.

Kate’s lips became a thin line.

“What is it you want to ask me.”

Renee pulled herself up, putting her crossed arms on the table.

“Why’d you do it?”

Maggie shot a sideways glance.

“Kate, can I call you Kate? Or do you prefer Katherine?”

Kate shrugged.

“I’ve read your file. Some of it is…” Maggie blew out the corner of her mouth. Renee stared, solidly, at her.

“I did what was asked of me, until what was asked was more than I could do.”

Renee scrunched up half of her face.

“That sounds rehearsed. Say that in front of the mirror?”

Kate said nothing, staring dead in the centre of Renee’s face. She had a soft nose. It had probably been broken at least once.

“You were military,” Maggie said, flipping through the file, “Some…some of this is redacted, but some of it is…telling?”

Renee’s gaze hardened.

“Former socialite, former military brat, now military washout, wracked with depression and guilt for the things she’s done and seen, especially when the armed forces can’t do anything about a man dressed as a giant night bird…”

“Bat. They’re mammals, Renee.”

“I know they are, Maggie, I was just trying to highlight how ridiculous it is. Would you stop interrupting me?”

“I will when you stay focused on the facts.”

Renee rounded on Maggie.

“Fact is this woman was the last person to see another woman alive. This woman who was part of some redacted programme that kicks out lunatics into Gotham like we’re the pig pen at the state farm, and she, and you, are giving us nothing to work with.”

Maggie set her jaw.

“Outside.”

Maggie got up, pushing her chair back with screech. Renee sat for a moment or two, until she sighed, heavily, and got up.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

As always, Kate said nothing. She stared at the open doorway. She felt a tugging at it, at her. She played with the skin around her fingernails. Through the door, she heard hushed tones, harsh ones. She could almost make out what was being said, but she didn’t need to hear to know the intent.

They were stepping on each other. Renee was unfinished, unvarnished. She was looking for an easy win, and knew that Kate wouldn’t argue. Kate had seen women like Renee before. Full of eagerness, a barely contained undercurrent of anger, either stemming from family issues or relationship issues.

Maggie was balanced and fact based. She wanted this too, but in a different way. She wanted it right. She was exactly and deliberate. Kate was certain that she was on the spectrum in some capacity.

Kate, blinking a few times, realised that her attention had returned to her reflection, once again it slid off, but this time onto the waiting document before her. She twisted the page around, as the tones behind the door rose, and fell away again. Her life laid out before her – Cast recklessly in black bars, obscuring some of what she had been a part of, and done.

She watched her fingers move past her report, her fingertips resting on Elisabeth’s name. She closed her eyes, inhaling softly.

Her sisters name had been circled in red pen, with notes written in the margin of the report. Unstable. Delusional. Violent.

Kate felt the tiniest flicker of anger build in her temple, before it popped and faded away. She let those words sink into her eyes. Then moving further down, she saw a familiar name, her address, and pictures. Pictures of what she looked like when she was found.

Sophie Ellis.

The woman she was suspected in murdering. Kate closed her eyes, leaning back, and sighed loudly. That was the connection. She looked up, Maggie and Renee’s conversation had come to a close, and the pair were in the doorway.

Kate dropped her hand onto the pages. Maggie swore under her breath.

Renee, snatching the paperwork from Kate, closed it heavily and threw it in the corner of the room.

“The woman you murdered was a military nurse,” she said. Kate tilted her head to the side, “She was treating whatever washouts are dropped off in Gotham.”

Kate, leaning forward, locked eyes with Renee.

“Elisabeth isn’t violent,” she said, quietly.

Maggie stepped in, putting her hand on the table softly.

“Elisabeth has hurt people in the past, Kate,” she said, sitting down, “She’s hurt a lot of people in the past. She has a fixation.”

“I know,” Kate said.

“Fixations aren’t the mark of well people,” Maggie continued. “What can you tell me about your time in the miliary.

“Preferrable something new,” Renee said.

Kate sighed. Closing her eyes.

“I was asked to do things that I didn’t want to do,” she said, her voice very quiet, “I was removed because of it and sent home.”

Renee scratched at her hairline.

“Like what?”

“Renee…” Maggie warned.

The other woman shrugged.

“The Military is not a place for kindness, or thought. It’s a place that eats up the space inside of you, and when you’re outside of that, that space can’t be filled.”

“That,” Maggie said, “Is genuinely the most you’ve said to us, ever.”

“Ellis was married, did you know that?” Renee interjected.

“I did not know that,” Kate said, worrying the edges of her fingers in her lap, “I don’t remember much. I don’t remember her at all.”

“Who else have you seen since you’ve been back?”

“My friends. Gregorio, and Shilo. I have a woman that does groceries for me.”

Renee whistled.

“Well, look at you. Someone’s doing OK from that military pension. You on Disability?”

Kate said nothing.

“Must be,” Renee continued, “I don’t have a woman that does groceries for me.”

Maggie snorted.

“You broke up with her, remember?”

Renee stifled a laugh.

“Not now,” she said. An officer knocked on the door. Renee got up, and crossed the room to speak to him in hushed tones. Kate watched, quietly, until Maggie got her attention by leaning into her view.

“What do you know about Sophie?” Maggie asked, quieter now.

“I don’t really remember her at all, or what I did last night,” she said. Her voice felt far away, like it was coming from someone else and she was listening to it.

“Don’t remember, or won’t say?” Maggie asked.

“I honestly don’t remember. I don’t remember going out, or meeting or talking to anyone. I don’t remember Sophie Ellis, or why I might have taken her home. I must have because her wallet was there but..”

Renee sat down heavily in the chair.

“Did you have sex with Sophie Ellis, Kate?”

Kate looked at the ceiling, closing her eyes. Her body, numb. She couldn’t feel the normal signs, of post-sex on her body. The tingle of fingertips, the rash around her lips from kissing.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know a lot, do you?” Renee prodded.

“Sophie was found to have been sexually active before she died – Was that you, or someone you were with?”

Kate’s eyes focused back on Renee.

“I don’t remember.”

“Where you with anyone else?”

“No,” Kate said.

“If you can’t remember, how do you know you weren’t with anyone else? Another woman? A man?”

Kate shook her head slowly.

“No, I…” she shook her head more violently, “No! I wasn’t with anyone else. Stop.”

Maggie cast a glance to Renee, who leaned in.

“What did you do to her? With her?”

“I don’t remember,” Kate said, her voice growing slightly louder.

“Did you know she knew Elisabeth? Treated her? Was she going to treat you the same way?”

Kate balled her fists in her lap.

“Stop it,” she said.

“Are you headed the same route? Depression and memory issues? Delusions? Are you thinking you might be someone you’re not? Someone special?”

“Renee..” Maggie warned.

“Is that why you washed out, Kate? Delusions? Did you refuse something that anyone else would because your pedigree made you special? Made you feel like you could do it?”

“NO!” Kate said, louder, “I said I wouldn’t do it because it was wrong.”

“How?” Renee asked, “Wrong for you? Who are you to decide?”

“Wrong for everyone.”

“Yeah? You the arbiter of what is right and wrong then? Do we need to let Batman know he can hang up his cape because Katherine Kane is back?”

“No. No. It was wrong because it hurt people. It broke people,” Kate said, pushing herself back from Renee.

“That’s the military, Kate. That’s life.”

“Not like this,” she said, “Not like this.”

“What was it like then? What did you do?”

“They,” Kate paused, “It hurt people. It hurt Elisabeth.”

“She was never in the military, so don’t try that one,” Renee said, “She has been institutionalised for years. What happened, you couldn’t blame the army anymore so you went after the nurses? Doctors? Who was next on your list? Dr Quinn? Dr Stephens?”

“No,” Kate said, her shoulders tight, “You don’t understand. We weren’t hurt now, we were hurt then.”

“When?” Maggie asked, “When were you hurt, Kate?”

“When we were…” Kate paused, her focus dropping back in time. She blinked a few times, and visibly dropped back into herself. Maggie watched it happened and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Kate?” she asked, knowing as she asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. Her voice hollow and far away again. “I don’t remember.”

Renee slammed a hand on the table, making Maggie jump. Kate just stared at it.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO SOPHIE ELLIS.”

“Nothing. I don’t remember her.”

The officer appeared in the doorway again.

“YES. I KNOW,” Renee yelled, pushing herself off the table and towards the door.

“You’re free to fucking go,” Renee said, slamming her way past the officer. Maggie just sat quietly, with Kate. Minutes ticked past.

“Is there someone who can collect you?” she asked after five minutes. Kate shook her head.

“There is nobody,” she whispered.

Gotham rain always soaked her through, in a way that no other downpour had managed. Despite moving through tropical rainforest, where it rained consistently, and heavily, for hours at a time, the sleek, grey drizzle of Gotham penetrated her clothing far quicker than anything else.

She rounded the corner towards the hospital and paused. Her release some custody had been hours ago and she wasn’t sure where she was going, only that her walked, which had been ambling, aimless and confused had led her here – The Saint Margarets Military Hospital of Gotham.

Ascending the steps towards the building, she felt something rise inside of her. A fear that ballooned in anxiety that had her legs shaking as she moved closer. She balled her fists, not sure why she was there, or what she hoped to accomplish. She didn’t want to see her sister. She didn’t want to see the Doctors. She didn’t want to be home. She just wanted this to be over.

Kate stopped at the door, that familiar wave of emotion resolving itself with a light headed pop, and she felt the weight of herself slough off. She took a shaking breathe in, and turned around, walking back down the steps. At the bottom of the steps, she stopped, removing her jacket and letting it fall down into the puddles. She strode towards the centre of Gotham, bare arms against the elements, the wind racing down the corridors created by old buildings.

Kate felt the cold on her skin, the prickles of goose flesh. She felt the water soaking her to her core, and hoped somewhere it would fill her up. Something to fill her. She paused, looking up at the sky, with narrowed, blinking eyes. She felt something, which was more than usual. Something felt wrong in a tiny part of her brain far away.

The name. Sophie Ellis was a name she’d heard before. Knew before.

Kate wracked her brain – She knew her from somewhere but where?

Kate stood in silence, in front of her, drawn inextricably to her, was the address she’d read from the file. She approached the front door, finding it covered with police tape, and understood immediately what her subconscious mind had done for her.

She took a long, drawn breath in the rain, and scraped her red hair which was clinging to her face, back against her head. Her reflection, blank and almost featureless, stared back at her from the window. She grabbed the edges of her sleeves, and ripped them free, tearing holes in them before she wound one around her hair, to keep it from her face, and another across her eyes, hiding her features.

She stared down at herself in a puddle in the road, and there, staring back at her, was a face she recognised. Something familiar, at least.

She shifted on her feet, and looking up the side of the building, she stalked to the rear. At the back, a small porch allowed her to vault up onto it, and with a swift fist, smash through the glass of the rear window.

Climbing inside, she found the smell of bleach and antiseptic filling her nose. She sniffed again. The police didn’t routinely try to clean immediately after a murder.

Quietly, she crouched down, moving towards the centre of the house. Something was wrong. The house itself, whilst presenting as somewhere someone lived – had nothing personal within it. Something Kate knew all too well – It wasn’t a home, it was a place someone rested and slept.

Pausing in the doorway, she heard something. Breaking into a full low, run, Kate threw herself into a room, as gunshots rattled through the doorframe and into the bed behind him. She covered her head, as another volley buried themselves in the wall, and the floor next to where she crouched.

Poor shot.

She heard thumping of boots and the slamming of the door behind her. Jumping to her feet, Kate threw herself down the landing towards the stairs. Bounding down them she threw the door open, to find nothing but driving rain, and a lone dogwalker in the distance and an older woman, hunched and carrying groceries in her arms.

Kate, slamming the door closed before anyone could see her, turned back to face the house.

“There must be something here,” she said, quietly, “Or someone.”

Rather than rattling her, the shots has solidified something inside her. She felt emboldened, angry.

“Who’s here?” she asked, louder. Silence met her voice, which sounded far shakier than she needed or wanted it to.

Rounding the doorframe, she entered the kitchen, to find two piles of clothes atop the counter. The first, women’s clothes. Medical scrubs, crocs and a purse. The second pile, Men’s clothes. Cheap trousers, a white shirt, and a wallet, sat on top of a pair of black, cheap shoes.

Picking up the purse she pulled out the ID. Sophie Ellis. Age matched. Address didn’t. The address listed on the ID was for seven blocks away, in a different part of town. She placed he ID on the counter.

The second wallet, the man’s wallet. Evan Blake.

She remembered that name as well, looking up at the room around her. She closed her eyes a moment and then reopened them, finally looking.

This was a mans apartment. Bereft of anything personal, it was functional. It was a bolt hole. She opened the cupboards. Enough food for a day or two, mostly coffee, and dried and canned foods. She paced into the downstairs bathroom. A washer dryer, but nothing to put in the washer.

It was barely lived in, but someone had been here. A cup sat in the sink, washed. Packaging was in the bin. She collected both the IDs.

Why were Sophie’s clothes there? And Evans? Had they been having an affair?

She paused, looking at the two IDs, not listening until it was too late. Sirens pulling up outside the house. She froze. The gunshots must have alerted the neighbours.

“Stupid,” she said to herself, ducking behind the counter.

“POLICE! OPEN UP!” the voice screamed through the door. Kate swore under her breath, and made a break for the stairs. Perhaps she could escape through the window again?

The door blew open, and three police came storming in, just as she disappeared into the bedroom. She came to a stop, not wanting to alert them further.

Hiding behind the same bed that had so recently been shot, she knew she was going to need two things to get away from this – Either good luck, or a hell of a good lawyer.