8600/A Strange Case of Mistaken Identity: Second Opinion

A Strange Case of Mistaken Identity: Second Opinion
Date of Scene:	08 November 2021
Location:	Arkham Asylum Penitentiary
Synopsis:	Jonathan Sims seeks out the professional advice of his old mentor and colleague, Dr. Hugo Strange, the Head of Psychiatry at Gotham's Arkham Asylum.
Cast of Characters:	Tim Drake, Jonathan Sims

---

Tim Drake has posed:
    Everything in Dr. Hugo Strange's office at Arkham Asylum is properly in its place, pens in a neat line and a stack of books arranged at perfect right angles upon his desk. He is a man who understands both order and chaos, and knows when the application of one over the other is best-suited to the situation. And here, in the kingdom he has established, Strange prefers order. His three-piece suit is impeccable pressed beneath his white lab coat, and he stares with steepled fingers at his computer monitor, a shine reflecting off the lenses of his glasses that makes his gaze impenetrable.

    Outside, his secretary awaits at her own desk, which is a mirror image of Strange's own, though she is visibly more harried than he is. She'll likely be out by the end of the month. There's always a pot going around the staff of Arkham about how long Dr. Strange's secretaries last.

    And at the appointed time, when Jonathan Sims arrives, she smiles at him wanely and taps a button on her desk phone. After a long moment, Hugo Strange's voice echoes from the speaker: "Send him in, Margaret."

    She does so, bowing her head slightly as she stands and opens the office door for Jon. At his desk, Hugo remains in that same position of contemplative repose, though his head shifts, subtly, and then he's looking at Jon. "Dr. Sims. How good to see you." He nods towards one of the stiff-backed chairs before his desk. "Have a seat, please."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    It makes Jon stand just a /little/ straighter, to be addressed as "Dr. Sims" by a man he so admires. He's worn a suit for the occassion, refusing to wear a tie as is his usual but otherwise managing to look professional and presentable. Even if his hair's starting to get just a /little/ on the long side.

    He carries a briefcase that he settles on the floor next to him as he sits down. "Thank you for agreeing to see me, Dr. Strange," he says with a smile. And it's a genuine smile, even if he looks just bit tired. He chuckles. "Didn't expect you to be in the office on a Sunday, but then... /I/ was in the office on Saturday."

    Strange does /not/ need to know that "the office" was red mist near Great Falls and a SHIELD quarantine room. But, well, he /did/ sleep on a cot.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Dr. Strange acknowledges the thanks with a nod that is shades of magnanimous, but the faint raising of his eyebrows adds a touch of professional curiosity to the gesture. His interest had been piqued by Jon's request, no doubt. "The Work is never ending, as I'm sure you know," he says, just before he leans forward to touch a button on his own desk phone. "Margaret, a cup of tea for my guest Dr. Sims." Then he looks up at Jon, his finger still on the button. "The Assam, if I recall correctly, yes?" Or rather, if his file on Jonathan Sims, including a complete psychological profile, is correct. Which of course it is.

    He requests nothing for himself, and leans back, once more steepling his fingers. "Now, we're both very busy men, and it seemed like you had some sort of serious concern. Please, tell me everything, from the beginning."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods, and leans down to pick up his briefcase from the floor. "I have a psychological profile for a... research subject that I've compiled." Surely Strange can note the hesitation there. He's not dealing with an actual research subject. "I'm a little... well, 'stuck' is the only word I can really use." He smiles easily. He seems somewhat less nervous than he'd been, though that could be down to being four years post-residency at this point.

    He clicks open the briefcase and pulls out a manila folder. "At first I thought it was merely the, ahh, stresses of my new job. I've had some... family issues, and found myself needing the curate the family collection." It's not a lie--not exactly--but there's something deeper there that he's not saying. "I came to realize, however, that I'm just... missing something, in analysing this subject."

    Jon closes the briefcase and holds out the manila folder over the desk. "I was hoping I could ask for your help and expertise. I've redacted all personally identifying information, of course."

Tim Drake has posed:
    Of course, Dr. Strange picks up on these little idiosyncrasies in Jon's behavior as he relates the necessary background information. He does not, however, point them out. Instead they are merely filed away for perusal at a later time and date, another piece to the puzzle of Jonathan Sims.

    Admittedly, solving that one is of rather low importance to Hugo Strange. There are bigger fish to fry in Gotham's pond.

    "Of course. No doctor is immune to such issues, and a second opinion is as valuable as any other diagnostic tool we have access to." Naturally, becoming the Head of Psychiatry at Arkham Asylum means Dr. Hugo Strange is damn good at his job. This is solid advice, and he himself is known to reach out to colleagues on occasion.

    Another thing he is known for is what he does when he takes the file. "Of course," he agrees, and then holds up a finger. Wait. He reads through the profile then and there, eyes moving in sweeping motions behind the lenses of his glasses. Frequently, he would do so while someone waited nearby, likely shaking in their boots. At least Dr. Strange is also known for his skill at speed-reading.

    This time, however, Jonathan is not a student waiting for an evaluation. He is a colleague looking for a second opinion. So Dr. Strange folds the manila folder closed, sets it down on his desk, and looks across at Jon. "Why don't you give me a brief summary in your own words. Perhaps talking things out may lead you naturally to the solution."

    His expression is inscrutable, his mind a closed steel trap, though the springs are tightening.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sits back a moment to wait for Strange to read the file, trying not to fidget nervously. But fidget he does, for all the world like an addict who's starting to need a fix. Is Dr. Sims taking drugs? It doesn't quite fit the rest--there's /something/ that's changed about him even since the last time he was presenting at a conference. Something hard to indentify unless one would jump to the 'he became a superhero' conclusion.

    When Strange is done, Jon takes a deep breath. "Well," he says. "The subject is a young man, driven, compassionate, generous, with a strong streak of survivor's guilt and a tendency to take on more than he needs to." He tries to keep his /fondness/ for Tim Drake out of his voice, though Strange might pick up on it. "What I'm trying to figure out is..." He hesitates. This is where he might get in trouble, because he's digging into something he shouldn't, and he doesn't want to expose Tim to any problems.

    But his damn curiosity forces him to forge ahead. "...whether or not he's leading a double life." The implications for coming to /Hugo Strange/ about this should be clear.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Once more, Dr. Strange steeples his fingers and leans back, at first observing Jonathan for a moment after he's gestured for the man to begin. It is in this position that he listens to the requested summary, not moving an inch, barely breathing in fact. And then, his fingertips tap together in a rhythmic wave.

    It's the equivalent of a handshake from Paul Hollywood on GBBO. Yes, he is intrigued. "I have always theorized, during my musings on this city's... caped crusaders, shall we say," Hugo Strange begins as he leans forward. His glasses, he plucks from his face, and fetches a cloth from a drawer that he uses to begin cleaning them. "That they must be singularly driven individuals. Not only are they active primarily at night, which affords its own struggles, they must also maintain some semblance of a life in the daytime hours. If only to keep up appearances, as it were."

    Carefully, he returns his glasses to their perch upon his nose. "Because certainly they cannot operate fully outside the realm of society. Make no mistake, there must be a not-insignificant amount of money funding their endeavours. Likely to the order of a million dollars or more. And then there is of course the physical and mental training they must undergo to maintain their fighting form." He shakes his head. "At the very least, I would think your young patient has both the means and motivation."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "That... is indeed what I thought," Jon says slowly. He can't /really/ reveal that one of his first patients was a billionaire vigilante who ran around New York City by night and literally had multiple personalities. But also... it's been his own line of thinking. Tim's a billionaire, driven, intensive training. Means, motive, opportunity. "The problem has been that I cannot figure out... /who/ he is. I feel that I am, perhaps, a failure at my work if I fail at such a basic task as that."

    He hesitates a moment, then adds, "...To give full disclosure I have... found myself putting on a cape, quite by accident. A title passed to me by my grandmother, upon her death. I ran into the young man during some of my first, ahh... escapades." He flushes a bit darker at the admission.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Naturally. Keeping their true identity a secret is a defense mechanism. Very literally a life-ruining secret, should it get out."

    Dr. Strange touches two fingertips to the manila envelope now sitting on his desk. "Would it be alright if I had my secretary make a copy of this? I would like the opportunity to take a second look when other pressing concerns have been dealt with. You know how things are, here at Arkham." Never a dull day, that's for certain. But there's also not enough mental health professionals in all of Gotham to treat the patients kept under lock and key, here.

    Whatever answer he received, Hugo Strange settles back in his chair. Briefly, his attention strays to his computer monitor, but it is only for the space of a quick glance. "At any rate," he says. "If you are... pursuing some form of working relationship with this young man, I must caution you. Once your association becomes known, you open yourself up to the unrestrained malice of the criminal minds this city begets."

    Arkham's Head of Psychiatry exhales heavily, with a slow, remorseful shake of his head. "You are an excellent psychiatrist, Dr. Sims. I would hate for anything to happen to you, because of this."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods to the request. He's removed all the identifying information--what harm can it do? Then he listens to his old mentor's advice, and sighs.

    "Would that I could. Unfortunately, my new... activity is not a choice, nor a thing driven by some internal psychological motivation. It is external forces that drive me, as inexorable as any physical or psychological and far more unrelenting." There's a... weariness there. Whatever the mantle is, it weighs heavy on the younger man.

    "I thank you for the advice, however," he says with a tired smile. "I will do my best to keep our association private and unknown."

Tim Drake has posed:
    Hugo Strange inclines his head, and then reaches for his phone. However, there is no response from Margaret outside, and he sighs. "Of course," he drolls as he rises to his feet. "I apologize, as you're not likely to get that cup of tea. Excuse me a moment while I go handle this." He locks his computer with a practiced gesture and then steps away for only a few moments.

    When he returns, it is with the original file and his copied version, as well as a cup balanced on a saucer. "Potentially over-steeped, though I do at least recall how you take it." It is set down, along with the manilla folder, on the side of the desk nearest Jon. "Now. As this is officially on my schedule as a break to catch-up with an old colleague--I have a publication from a recent conference I attended that I think you might find very interesting."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon takes the tea with a grateful smile. "I do hope your secretary's alright." And he /does/ genuinely worry about people, he always has. Whether that's a strength or a failing depends on one's perspective.

    He sits back a bit, sips the tea. Nods in contentment; even if it's over-steeped it /is/ how he likes it. "I've been rather out of the loop on conferences of late. I'm curious to hear what I've missed."

Tim Drake has posed:
    And thus what transpires is a rousing discussion on new breakthroughs in the treatment of traumatic brain injuries, some mention of a new transdiagnostic approach focusing on sleep and mood disorders, and then more than a little bit of "professional" gossip about the candidates recently announced for the APA's 2022 elections. To anyone outside the mental health field, though, it's likely rather boring.

    The secretary does not make a reappearance. And after Dr. Sims is politely escorted out, Hugo Strange locks the door to his office, cancels all of his appointments, and logs into his private server. As he begins typing, a slow smile stretches across his face.

    One.
                More.
                                Piece.