THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS
xxvii. THE END IS NEAR
❝I'LL BRING YOU HOME, I PROMISE.❞

THE STERILE SMELL OF A HOSPITAL WAS SOMETHING ANASTASIA had strangely become accustomed to, being able to pinpoint the sharp scent before her mind could catch up. Her eyes slowly opened, watching as the image of a white room slowly unblurred. She didn't recognize where she was, nor could she remember how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was being at the GCPD as they prepared her for transport to... Arkham Asylum... for... Oh.

Quarantine.

The blood test had come back positive.

She was infected.

Anastasia could feel the ache deep within her skull as the memories came rushing back, causing a soft groan to leave her lips as she closed her eyes again. The overhead fluorescent lights were too harsh, brightening everything white in the room. The other half of the room was illuminated by the sunlight coming through the window panes. She waited a few minutes for her eyes to adjust, not having seen the sun for months.

As her headache began to dull, her ears focused on someone quietly humming to themselves from the other side of the room. It forced her green eyes open, jolting up to see a curly-haired woman in the room too. She was seated at the desk against the window, either writing or drawing on a piece of paper. Though, it was most likely she was drawing since there was a cup filled with colored pencils within reach. Anastasia stared for a few moments, unsure whether the woman was real or not. It wouldn't be the first time her mind played tricks.

"You mumble in your sleep, you know?" The unknown woman commented, sparing a glance back in Anastasia's direction before she returned to her drawings. Anastasia frowned, averting her gaze from the woman to her own hands instead. She hoped she hadn't said something... strange... in her sleep, not wanting a repeat of what had happened at the police station. "Kept me up for most of the night," the woman continued, clicking her tongue. "Was it a bad dream?"

Anastasia didn't reply, not knowing what to say. It had been a long time since she had a casual conversation with someone, trying to rack her brain for something to say. Maybe ask her name? Her mind suggested, but she couldn't find the words. Her throat felt dry, wanting nothing more than a cold glass of water with ice. She pulled her knees to her chest, placing her head down as she watched the woman's back. One thing she noticed was that the woman was dressed in gray scrubs, the same uniform everyone else at Arkham Asylum wore. It was then, Anastasia noticed she wore the same gray scrubs. Above her right breast, the logo for the hospital was sewn into the fabric with black thread. It added to her discomfort, feeling a wave of nauseousness flood her system.

"Not much of a talker, huh?"

It used to be the opposite. She could always find the right words to fill the silence, unable to bear the discomfort when the room got too quiet. Nights with Bruce would go in a similar manner, speaking nonstop until it lulled them both to sleep. He had always been a good listener, even when it seemed as if he wasn't paying attention. His ears would always be attuned to her words. But, in the other world, a small sound would attract the creatures. A stumble, a ruffle of clothing, or even a soft breath was enough to set the creatures off. It was the silence she learned to find comfort in. If it was quiet, she was safe. And now, her own voice had become a stranger's.

And if the interrogation down at the GCPD had taught her anything, it was that her words did not matter to anyone except herself. Her account of what had happened to her during the past few months were chalked up to hallucinations caused by the virus. Perhaps... It was possible the GCPD's theory was correct but Anastasia had lived through the horrors. To find out that it was all a figment of her imagination while she lay delirious in someone's basement, it would be devastating. For now, she held onto her words and trusted her mind.

She looked at the woman, clearing her throat. "What time is it?"

"So, she speaks!" the woman grinned, spinning around in the chair to face Anastasia. She tilted her head, causing strands of her curly hair to fall as they framed her features. "To answer your question, I don't know," she shrugged. "There's not a clock in the room, but I think it should be around noon."

"Noon?" Anastasia echoed, frowning. "I slept till noon?"

The other woman shrugged again, tapping her blue-colored pencil against the metal of the chair she was sitting in. "You must have needed the sleep."

Anastasia didn't say anything further, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed before her bare feet touched the cold tiled floor. It sent a shiver through her body, causing her to shudder as goosebumps spread across her skin. Her eyes focused on the sunlight pouring into the room, feeling drawn to it. She walked slowly, ignoring the woman's intense gaze as she made her way toward the window. Anastasia hesitated, but stepped into the sunlight and sighed at the warmth it provided. She couldn't explain the absolute joy that filled her being, staring at the sun that shone brightly through a few clouds. It was still a cold day, feeling the chill that entered the room from the other side of the glass. But, she would do anything to stand in the sunlight after being trapped in eternal darkness.

"Staring into the sun will cause you to lose your eyesight," the woman pointed out, offering a kind smile. Standing next to her, Anastasia could see the pencil drawings on multiple pieces of paper. Some of them were of people that the woman most likely knew, some of them were of wilderness and animals, and some of the papers were filled with random sketches. The woman noticed her interest, nodding at her drawings. "It's the best way to pass time here, I've learned."

Anastasia nodded, mimicking the woman as she tried to appear as natural as possible. It felt like she was back at one of the grand parties thrown at the manor, constantly trying to fit in despite everyone's blades turned in her direction. "I like them," she commented, looking down at one of the papers that was filled with different flowers. "Very pretty."

"Thanks," she responded, giving her a genuine smile as she bashfully looked down at her drawings. It seemed as if she wasn't used to hearing such a compliment. But, it was the truth and it was better than anything Anastasia could do.

Anastasia looked around the room, trying to make a mental note of where everything was to better familiarize herself with her home for the time being. It was a decent-sized room, having two twin beds with a shared table in the middle. By the window, there was the desk. Near Anastasia's bed, there was an open door that led to a bathroom. However, there wasn't a shower in there much to her annoyance. She ran a hand through her greasy hair, wrinkling her nose. Someone had washed the dirt and blood out of the ends of her hair, something she was grateful for. But, she was still far from clean.

"I need a shower," she muttered, mostly to herself.

"Doctors are making their rounds," the woman replied, keeping her eyes focused out the window as she watched two birds fly together nearby. "One room at a time, having to shower in the communal showers with doctors close by to make sure we don't try to escape. It's pretty dumb, but at the very least they give us a curtain for privacy."

Anastasia frowned, feeling her skin crawl at the thought of more doctors. It felt as if she had been under the care of doctors far too much in a short amount of time. "How long have you been here?"

"Only two days," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. Facing Anastasia, it allowed her to notice the scar that the woman had along her eye. Someone must have attempted to slash at her face, causing curiosity to set in Anastasia. She had warm brown eyes, matching the color of her hair. It reminded Anastasia of Laura, feeling her heart grow heavy at the thought of her friend. "Let me tell you this, it's been the boringest days of my life."

"You must be..." Anastasia trailed off before she could mention the virus, lowering her gaze to the ground at her bare feet. She could still see hints of her pink nail polish, but most of it had been chipped away during her time in the other world.

The woman tapped her arm, earning her attention again. "You're asking me if I'm infected, huh?"

Anastasia slowly nodded, letting out a heavy sigh.

"I am," she mumbled, tapping her pencil against the table as her brows furrowed in irritation. "I keep telling them that I feel fine now, but they won't let me go. They won't let any of us go, not until our blood tests come back as negative for the virus."

"Has it for anyone?" Anastasia asked, curious to see what progress the scientists and doctors of Arkham Asylum had made. If it had been two weeks for the world, then things couldn't have changed too much. But, she had seen Lieutenant Gordon and Batman's faces when it had been revealed she was infected. They were... afraid. It was almost as if they knew she wouldn't make it. Enough people must have died for them to come to that conclusion.

"Not sure..." the woman answered her question, placing her head in her hand as she returned her dreamy gaze outside. Again, the two flying birds came into view as they displayed a freedom the two women didn't possess. "People get worse, then they disappear," she mumbled, sighing. "The doctors refuse to tell us what happened to them, but we all know."

Death came for them all. It was what would happen to everyone infected, especially since the doctors and militia wouldn't allow the virus to mutate human beings into bloodthirsty monsters. It took two weeks for a person to completely lose their mind to the virus, then it took over and turned its host into a gruesome creature. It was something Anastasia had learned in the other world, having been told the truth from Cece and Charlie. They knew so much about the virus infecting the real world, but they withheld information and refused to speak about a potential cure. If there was a cure.

Not that it mattered, Anastasia bitterly mused. No one believed her when she told them the Overseer and the creatures of the other world were coming to destroy their dimension. It wasn't as if she could do anything to help save Gotham... or the rest of the world. And, with her own infection, she would only have two weeks to live at most. She was dying... and perhaps, that was the mercy the Overseer provided. A way out before things took a turn for the worst, something Anastasia should be grateful for.

"I'm sorry, I've seemed to have forgotten my manners," Anastasia muttered, snapping out of her thoughts when she realized she had been quiet for too long. Being stuck in the Upside Down for months had caused her to forget how to speak to another person. The woman had been waiting, watching her with a curious expression. She cleared her throat, smoothing out her shirt before she held her hand out. "My name is Anastasia."

"I know," the woman grinned, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "I'm sure everyone in Gotham knows who you are, Mrs. Wayne. I should consider myself lucky to have a celebrity as a roommate."

Her hand dropped to her side, biting the inside of her cheek. "Please, I'm not a celebrity," Anastasia muttered, not wanting to be called such ━━ especially not while she was locked away in Arkham Asylum. "Far from it."

"Says the woman who the tabloids love to gossip about ━━ Gotham's very own It Girl," she laughed, noticing the growing discomfort on Anastasia's face. "Let's see, you're the CEO of Lovejoy Corp and Wayne Enterprises which are both multi-billion dollar companies. And then, you're also married to billionaire Bruce Wayne and live a luxurious life that some people can only dream of. The people of Gotham hate the two of you after all the scandals, but your philanthropy work is enough for them to tolerate you." She leaned in close, grinning. "Your husband on the other hand? Everyone and their mother believed he killed you."

Right.

It was how the world viewed Anastasia Lovejoy-Wayne. She was a spoiled hotel-heiress, having not a care in the world other than what to spend her money on next. The way the media portrayed her was unachievable, something that even Anastasia herself couldn't reach. She could feel all her insecurities start to creep back, knowing the time she had wasted trying to prove herself to people that no longer mattered. If anything, she wanted to run away from her life. Her life was desired by many, being engrossed in the glamor and wealth. But, Anastasia had seen the darkness that grasped at every corner of her being. Even all the money in the world couldn't save her now, nor could it rescue Laura or stop the destruction coming from a world they didn't understand.

"Everyone knows who you are," the curly-haired woman continued, clicking her tongue. She hummed, giving Anastasia a smile and a poke in the ribs with her pencil. "I hope I didn't offend. It's just that the Waynes have been the nonstop talk of Gotham since your disappearance."

"I'm not offended," Anastasia reassured, shrugging her shoulders. The truth was always bitter, something she had grown to learn and accept. She cleared her throat, forcing her lips upward in a smile. Though, it may have looked more like a grimace. "So, tell me more about yourself," she suggested, trying to change the subject. "What's your name?"

"My name is Birdie."

"Birdie?" Anastasia echoed, trying to ignore how the woman had the same name as the main character in the last book she had read. It made her doubt reality again, wondering if the woman beside her was real or not. After all, the verdict had been that the Overseer and the other world had been a hallucination. Was the woman one too?

Or perhaps, she was thinking too deeply about the situation.

It was just a name.

"I have a brother named Sparrow," Birdie added.

It caused a frown to form on Anastasia's lips. "Your parents must have liked birds."

They heard a harsh knock at the door, causing Anastasia to flinch at the sudden noise. She stiffened, standing straight as the door opened to reveal two nurses ━━ one male and one female. The nurses wore white hazmat suits, causing dread to fill Anastasia's heart. She looked at Birdie, noticing her nonchalant expression. Seeing Birdie calm, it allowed Anastasia to lower her guard. Perhaps, this was the new normal but it would take her some time to get used to.

"Good, the both of you are awake," the male nurse said, gesturing for them to follow. His tone edged on exhaustion, watching them with a bored expression. The nurse beside him wore a similar one, staring with no emotion behind her eyes. "It's time for a shower, let's go."

The two of them followed, passing by multiple locked rooms. Anastasia peeked through the small windows in the doors, wanting to catch a glimpse of who else was locked in Arkham Asylum against their will. She saw people of all ages, including the elderly and little children. Some of them looked fine, trying to fight boredom. While others, they looked as if death had already taken them. They all shared one thing in common ━━ being infected by the unearthly virus.

Anastasia was grateful for the shower, standing underneath the cold-running water without so much of a flinch. She could hear Birdie singing in the shower next to her, along with the voices of the nurses as they spoke about a new medicine the Arkham scientists were engineering with the CDC. It seemed that the United States' government was starting to pay attention to what was happening in Gotham, but it wasn't a top priority yet since it was only infecting a small percentage of the city's population. She had listened quietly, but most of the nurses' words were gossip. Gotham was only the start. It wanted the whole world to burn. But, her warnings had been deemed as a hallucination caused by the virus. Lieutenant Gordon and Batman had claimed the other victims had said the same things, but she hadn't seen anyone else in the other world.

Perhaps, it had all been in her mind as the virus slowly infected her. If so, then where had she been this whole time? Detective Rafe believed she had been captured by the Children of Arkham then abandoned on a dirt road. She didn't understand, trying to figure out what was true and what was false. It would have to be a thought for another time, considering she could hear the nurses telling them to hurry.

She began to rinse the shampoo from her hair, closing her eyes to avoid getting soap in her eyes. But instead, she could feel her chest begin to burn. She frowned, trying to ignore the sharp pains. It felt as if someone had struck her with a knife, twisting it around every so often. A cough left her lips as she rubbed her chest, trying to soothe the pain. But, it only caused another round of coughs to leave her lips until her hands were coated in crimson red.

"Are you okay, Anastasia?" one of the nurses asked, standing on the other side of the curtain. "Do you need help?"

"I'm... I'm fine..." Anastasia whispered, holding her hands underneath the running cold water. She watched the red fade from her hands, spiraling down the drain. She cleared her throat, taking the soap bar to clean her hands. "The water is too cold. It made me cough," she lied, scrubbing her hands. "I'm sorry."

"Alright," the nurse said, satisfied with her reply. "Five more minutes then it's time to go."

She finished washing up, stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around herself. The two nurses averted their gaze, providing some privacy as she dressed into a fresh uniform. Birdie did the same, complaining about how cold the water had been as she glared at the nurses. Anastasia fought the urge to smile, but the nurses completely ignored her roommate. She was grateful to have Birdie as a roommate, reminding Anastasia a lot of Laura. She missed Laura. It caused another wave of guilt to pass over her as she brushed the tangles out of her wet hair.

After they had finished, the two of them were led back into their room. In their absence, the room had been tidied and sanitized. On the table where Birdie's drawings had previously been, there were two trays of breakfast. Her stomach growled at the aroma of maple syrup that lingered in the air. She hadn't realized how hungry she was, not remembering the last time she had a decent meal.

"Oh, wow! They served us waffles today... and with fresh fruit," Birdie commented, grinning as she walked toward the food. Anastasia followed slowly, eyeing the water bottles set aside for them too. "It's the first day I've seen breakfast look so good!"

Anastasia frowned, taking her tray before she sat on her bed. "What do you mean?"

"I got used to eating plain oatmeal for the past two days," Birdie mentioned, glancing at Anastasia with a smug expression. She took a seat at the desk, picking up the plastic spoon. They weren't given forks or butter knives, considering it could be dangerous. But, you couldn't kill someone with plastic utensils. "Having a Wayne as my roommate is paying off."

She ignored Birdie's comment. Instead, she used the spoon to scoop a few blueberries into her mouth. They were sour, making her nose wrinkle as an ache shot to her jaw. But, it was better than nothing as she finished all her fruit. Next, she tore the waffles with her hands before dipping them into the small cup of syrup they were given. She ate quietly, taking the occasional sip of her water as she listened to Birdie talk about what she and her friends were doing in Gotham before she was infected. However, Anastasia's mind was elsewhere.

After breakfast, the nurses came back in and administered them medication. Two injections of a clear medicine, claiming it promoted the white blood cells to fight against the rapid-growing virus. It was what kept the mutations at bay, keeping everyone infected still human. But, they didn't tell her that part. Then, there were three different pills to take that were supposed to help them keep their strength. The nurse had asked Anastasia if she wanted an oxygen tank brought to her, considering her medical records stated she was still healing from the gunshot wounds. However, she refused. It had been months since she had last used the oxygen, knowing she didn't need it anymore. After that, the nurses left and locked the door behind them.

Anastasia huffed, laying down in the bed as she stared up at the ceiling. Birdie had returned to the desk, pulling out her papers and pencils from the drawer to continue her art. She frowned, staring at the back of the woman's head. "Do we just stay in this room all day?"

"Pretty much," Birdie replied, shrugging her shoulders. "We aren't allowed in any other parts of the building, quarantined from all the other patients."

She hummed, folding her hands over her stomach. Arkham Asylum was home to the criminally insane and now, it was also the resting place for everyone infected. "I suppose that makes sense."

It was the end of their conversation. Birdie hummed softly to herself, having her soft voice blend with the sound of pencil hitting paper. Anastasia found herself watching the buzzing overhead light, seeing how the bulb flickered every now and then. Was it another hallucination? Or perhaps, it was fault wiring. It was possible the bulb, itself, was old and needed to be replaced. A simple and normal conclusion to what she was seeing. It was how she needed to think, simple and normal. It would allow herself to seem the most sane. And, people would start to believe her words.

And with her thoughts, she drifted to a dreamless sleep.

Some time had passed. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon line, darkening the skies much to Anastasia's dismay as she groggily rubbed the sleep from her eyes. It hadn't been the lack of sunlight to wake her, but instead a nurse that hovered over her with a warm smile. She wore a hazmat suit like the others, making Anastasia frown. "Hi, sleepy head," the nurse cooed, helping Anastasia sit up. "I'm sorry for interrupting your sleep, honey. But, you have a visitor."

"A visitor?" Anastasia mumbled, sniffling a yawn. She stole a glance in Birdie's direction. However, she paid them no mind as she read a book ━━ a romance novel by the looks of it.

The nurse smiled again. "It's your husband."

"Oh..." Anastasia said softly, feeling both excitement and fear at the thought of seeing Bruce again. Suddenly, she was wide awake as she jumped out of bed. She smoothed out the wrinkles in her clothing, trying to make it look like she hadn't been sleeping. Anastasia tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ears, forcing a smile to her face. She faced the nurse, seeing her take a few steps back to create some distance. "May I have a few minutes to freshen up?"

She nodded. "Of course, Mrs. Wayne. Take all the time you need."

Anastasia rushed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her to provide some privacy. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as her hands curled around the porcelain sink. Her heart beated out of her chest, feeling her nerves start to eat at her being. It had been so long since she had seen Bruce, trying to remember what he looked like after months of being alone. With her eyes closed, she could remember his dark hair, blue eyes, and supportive smile. Her husband was Bruce Wayne, someone she had spent close to seven years with. But, so much had happened that she was scared to see him.

How much did he know? It was the question that kept running through Anastasia's mind. She wasn't sure what she should tell him if he asked her what happened. He must know she was infected, considering she was locked away in Arkham Asylum for strict quarantine. There must have been strings pulled to be granted a meeting. But, had Lieutenant Gordon told him what she had said during the interview? Probably not, considering it was an open investigation. She needed to think of something to tell Bruce, to ease any stress he might be feeling.

And, there was the fact that her death was guaranteed in about two weeks. She would die like everyone else.

She cursed her mind for reminding her, making her frown as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. She let out a soft breath, splashing cold water in her face before she patted it dry with a nearby towel.

"You can do this, Anastasia," she whispered to herself, smiling at herself in the mirror. It looked... believable. Good. It was all that mattered, trying to look healthy and happy to Bruce. She didn't want him to worry. And, Bruce was easily convinced. He didn't pay too close attention. He always believed her words.

She opened the bathroom door, showing her practiced smile at the nurse. It was time to face Bruce and tell him a fabricated version of what had happened to her during the last few months. Two weeks, her mind corrected. It had been two weeks for the real world.

"Come along, honey," the nurse said, gesturing for Anastasia to follow.

Putting on a pair of slippers, she followed the nurse into the hallway. The door was locked by the nurse, waving her badge at the scanner. It seemed that this part of the hospital relied on badges to get around too, something Anastasia stored in her mind if she wanted to plan an escape. She inwardly rolled her eyes at herself, knowing there was no point in escaping. It wasn't as if she had anywhere to go except Wayne Manor and the police would be waiting.

"Are you nervous?" the nurse asked, stealing a glance back. She walked slowly, no doubt due to the hazmat suit.

"A little..." Anastasia mumbled, hoping Bruce would be able to recognize her. She looked... different... from before. Her appearance tainted by her time in the other world, being littered with scars from the creatures. Without proper food and water, her body had begun to break down. And then, it was her infection too. She could see her veins turning a darker color than before, but something one would only notice if they stood close enough. "It's been a while since I've seen him."

"Right..." the nurse whispered sadly, giving her an apologetic look. Her eyes carried a kindness, one she didn't see in the other nurses. "Your file said you were missing for two weeks? How long do you think you've been infected?"

"I'm not sure..." Anastasia said, shrugging her shoulders. Briefly, her hand touched her shoulder as she remembered the searing pain when the creature's teeth had torn into her skin. "I... I encountered one of the creatures... and it attacked me. It had bit into my shoulder blade, but I didn't think too much of it during the time."

"I'm sorry, truly," the nurse said as the two of them approached a metal door at the end of a long hallway. Anastasia mentally created a map in her mind, trying to memorize where everything was. The nurse sighed, flashing her badge at the scanner again. The door opened and the first thing Anastasia noticed was the armed guards that stood watch. They were dressed in hazmat suits too, holding heavy weaponry. They eyed her, but said nothing. "I hope you realize your husband pulled a lot of strings to arrange this meeting. Infected individuals are under strict quarantine and only allowed visitation if they are deemed terminal."

"Aren't we all terminal?" Anastasia questioned, raising a brow. The virus had a one hundred percent kill rate, something everyone had quickly learned. She wasn't terminal yet. It was written on the nurse's face, an unwavering sadness. Everyone infected dies. Her mind kept the fact echoing in her mind, sounding like a broken record.

The nurse's expression dropped for a moment, but she quickly put her mask back up. "No, of course not," the nurse said, shaking her head as she tried to instill false hope in Anastasia ━━ something a medical professional shouldn't do. But, the virus created a difficult situation and it was better to keep the patients calm than afraid. "If you really want to know, Mr. Wayne provided a hefty donation to the asylum and Warden Sharp graciously allowed the rules to be bent."

"Will he be wearing a hazmat suit too?"

The nurse giggled, shaking her head. "No, don't worry about that, sweetheart," she reassured, patting Anastasia's back with a gloved hand. It made her stiffen, avoiding the nurse's gaze. "Think of it as two separate rooms, but there's a glass in the middle. He'll be on the other side, but you two can still see and talk to each other."

"It's better than nothing," Anastasia mumbled, stealing another glance at her appearance through the reflective metal walls before she took in the waiting room.

It was a cold concrete room, wide with the facing wall consisting of ten doors that led into private meeting rooms. They were all spaced a few feet apart, having large light bulbs above to show when they were in use. Only one of the light bulbs was on, the one above door three. The nurse pointed to the door, offering Anastasia a reassuring smile. It was... different... to be faced with kindness after what she had endured. She did appreciate the nurse, grateful.

"Your husband is beyond that door," she said, nodding her head as she urged Anastasia forward. She gave one last smile, giving Anastasia a thumbs-up. But, it looked a little funny with her bulky gloves. "You can have as much time as you need. Just let the guards know when you're done."

"Okay," Anastasia breathed out, nodding her head. "Thank you."

The nurse left, leaving Anastasia alone with the two guards who watched silently. They hadn't said a word, nor made any effort to speak. It was the way they looked at her, something to be put down. She could see how their fingers inched toward the trigger, prepared to shoot at the first sight of aggression. It took her a minute to work up the courage to approach the door. Her hand brushed against the cold metal of the door handle, slowly pushing it open.

And then, there was Bruce.

Anastasia avoided his curious gaze, closing the door to drown the room in unbearable silence. Her hand trembled, still clutching the door handle as the thought of running back to her room popped into her mind. She faced her reflection in the metal door, trying to build up the courage to face Bruce. Deep breaths, Ana. You're fine. There wasn't anything to be worried about. It was only Bruce, her husband ━━ the love of her life and she was his. If there was anyone who would believe her, it was him.

"Ana?"

His voice brought a peace Anastasia hadn't felt in months, feeling her shoulders drop as a soft sigh left her lips. For the first time in a long time, she felt a genuine smile twitch at her lips. She turned around, facing Bruce's nervous expression as he watched her closely. She waved. "Hi, Bruce."

Bruce watched. As always, it was difficult to read his emotions. It brought back her anxious thoughts, but she couldn't spend the whole visit by the door. And, she had spent most of her life with Bruce. At least, the parts she remembered. All she knew was Bruce and Lovejoy Corp, everything else of her life was hazy. Memory Lane would have given her the memories back, but she had failed and now it was too late.

Anastasia stepped forward, taking a seat as she rested her arms on the stone table. Bruce was on the other side of the glass, being in the opposite room that was identical to her own. The room was made out of concrete, cold to the touch. There was a thick glass that separated the two of them, only being able to hear one another from the speakers embedded into the table. He could only stare, mouth slightly ajar to stay something but not a word left his lips.

Her head tilted, taking in his disheveled appearance. Bruce had always had dark circles ringing his eyes, but they were worse than she had ever seen them before. It seemed as if he hadn't slept in days. "Have you been sleeping?" she asked softly, wanting to reach out and touch his cheek. But, the glass separated the two of them. She continued to study his appearance, noticing his sunken expression. "You've lost some weight too, my love. You should be having three meals a day at the very least!" she reprimanded, shaking her head at him. "You need to take better care of yourself, Bruce."

With her limited time left, she wanted to make sure Bruce would be able to find his way through life without her presence. She was used to making sure he was taking care of himself, working alongside Alfred. If this was his state after two weeks of her disappearance, she feared for him. All she had left was Alfred and Bruce and all she wanted was to make sure they were taken care of, deserving nothing but all the happiness and peace in the world.

"How could I have?" he whispered, forcing her to meet his blue eyes as he interrupted her train of thought. Sadness lingered in his gaze, one she wasn't used to seeing in him. Bruce always masked his emotions well, hiding his true self behind walls. It made another wave of guilt flood her, forcing her to look away from him. "You've been gone, Ana. I've spent these past two weeks looking for you."

"Bruce..." Anastasia sighed, covering her face with her hands as she took in a sharp breath. It earned an ache in her chest, forcing her to clear her throat. She didn't want another coughing fit, not in front of Bruce. His eyes drifted to her hands, noticing the dulled scars that were illuminated by the overhead light. Most of them she had earned the night before, but they had already healed because of the virus coursing through her veins. "I know you must have been worried━━"

"Worried doesn't cover the half of it," Bruce said sternly, eyes narrowed as he stared. She lowered her hands from her face, watching him through her lashes. He leaned closer, despite the glass being in between the two of them. His gaze softened, shoulders dropping as a tired sigh left his lips. "Where have you been, Ana?"

She wanted to tell Bruce the truth, but she couldn't risk him looking at her the same way as everyone else did. In his eyes, she could see the love he held. She didn't want to see it disappear, afraid he might leave and never come back. So, Anastasia decided to tell another lie ━━ something to keep the peace between the two of them.

"Nowhere, my love," Anastasia affirmed, blinking to dispel her tears. She smiled at him, nodding her head. Her reflection stared back in the glass, allowing her to notice how red her skin had become. A lump grew in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe as she dabbed her sleeves against her eyes. "I'm fine, I promise."

"My darling, you don't need to lie to me," Bruce said gently, trying to catch her gaze despite her turned head. She pressed her lips together, shaking her head as she tried to regain control over her emotions. "What happened? Let me help you."

"Nothing happened," Anastasia stammered, clenching her jaw as she watched her hands tremble. His attention went to her hands too, but she hid them underneath the table. Her hands tightened around the fabric of her pants, trying to think of what to say to him. "I just... I don't know..."

"Hey, Ana, I'm here now," he said softly, forcing her to look at him again. Tell him, Anastasia tried to convince herself. But, she couldn't. There was something keeping her from telling him, the fear eating away at him. "You don't have to be afraid. Not anymore," he continued as if he had read her thoughts, frowning. Slowly, he placed a hand against the glass. He was pleading with her, wanting her to open up to him. "Give me your fears, Ana. Let me help you, please. I can protect you."

"I'm not afraid, Bruce," she lied, shaking her head. Her gaze was lowered, refusing to look him in the eye as she lied to him. "I'm not sure what happened. It's all such a... blur."

"You don't remember?" Bruce asked gently, urging her to continue as he lowered his hand.

She shook her head. "No, I don't," she lied again, hoping that Bruce didn't already know the truth. But, it didn't seem as if he knew much of what was going on. He looked... confused. Good, it would be best to keep him in the dark until she knew what her next course of action was. Other than to die, of course. Her days were numbered. The end was near. But, she couldn't think about that yet. "The GCPD found me somewhere in the city and they did a blood test," she shrugged. "It came up positive for the virus, so now I'm here."

"But, Ana━━"

"I know it sounds strange," she mumbled, hoping the news media hadn't spread word about her firing her shotgun multiple times at anything that moved. But, it should have been difficult for them to tell who it was and she was immediately picked up by the GCPD. She didn't need any other complications in her life. "But, that's all I remember."

"Do you remember how you got infected?" he asked, raising a brow.

It made Anastasia pause, clearing her throat. In the quiet room, she could hear the creature dragging its sharp nails against the concrete walls. It was on the other side, waiting for her. She could still remember how painful it had been, being pinned down and having its teeth sink into her shoulder. It made her nauseous, feeling a wave of dizziness flood her system.

"Ana, darling?" Bruce tried to get her attention, silently asking her to focus on him and not the phantoms in her mind. But, the phantoms in her mind tended to shout louder than Bruce these days. "Talk to me."

"Bruce," she said sternly, shaking her head. The scratching had disappeared, falling behind the silence. Her eyes on him, picking out the concern on his features. "Please, I don't want to talk about it. Not yet."

"So, you do remember," he stated. It wasn't a question. He could always see through her lies.

Anastasia nodded slowly, refusing to look at him and the disappointment written across his features. A soft sigh left her lips, burying her nails deep within the skin of her palms to distract her thoughts. "I do remember..." she trailed off, feeling the familiar burn within her chest. "I can't talk about it yet, okay? I don't want to and please, don't force me. Try to understand, Bruce. Please."

"Of course," he said softly, not pushing as he nodded. Bruce never pushed, something she noticed again and again. And, it was something she was grateful for. She could see him slip on his mask again, clearing his throat as he blinked to clear the emotions from his eyes. For a moment, he was silent before he smiled. "Of course," he repeated again. "Tell me whenever you're ready, Ana. I'm here for you, always."

"Thank you, Bruce."

He cleared his throat, reaching to the ground to pick up a woven basket full of different things. "I brought you a present," he said, giving her a smile. He pushed it closer to the glass, allowing Anastasia to peek inside. "I'm not sure what's going on in there, but I want to make sure you're comfortable."

"Oh?" Anastasia asked, curious. She was used to Bruce showering her with gifts, thinking it was the way to her heart. But, she was curious to see what he filled her Arkham Asylum basket with.

Bruce reached inside, picking up one of the books from her library. It was one she recognized, remembering how much she loved it and talked to him nonstop about it. He remembered. "I brought some of your favorite books."

A smile creeped onto her features, pointing to the tabs sticking out of the book. "Are those sticky tabs?" she asked, chuckling. "Did you write notes in the book?"

"I did," Bruce shrugged, smiling. "I read a few of your books while you were gone, wanted to see what you loved so much about them. So... I... I decided to add a few of my own notes to yours."

"I can already imagine what you wrote," she grinned, knowing she was about to see deep analysis of the characters and the events that unfolded in the book. "You are always too critical of everything."

"Well... One of them was a bit ridiculous, but you do love that kind of cheesy romance," he teased, setting the book back into the basket. "I got you all of your favorite snacks. I even got you the shampoo and soaps you like. I don't want you to be uncomfortable here." He reached into his coat's pocket, pulling out four bars of KitKats. His action caused a memory to flicker in her mind, seeing much younger versions of themselves before it faded. Bruce smiled, not noticing her mind wander. "I managed to sneak these in."

"That's so thoughtful of you, Bruce," She whispered, feeling tears prick at her eyes again. Being alone in the other world, it had been easy for her mind to convince herself that all people held for her was hatred. But, Bruce always vanquished any doubts. "Thank you."

"Of course," he said. "Anything for you, Ana."

"I'm sure my roommate will like this too," Anastasia added, knowing she'll have to share with Birdie. She didn't mind, but she didn't want the comments that she was getting special privileges. Even if Birdie claimed she was joking.

"You have a roommate?" Bruce asked, confused.

"I do," Anastasia sighed, nodding her head. "She's infected like me, being admitted to Arkham two days earlier. She's not from Gotham, visiting with a group of friends but she was attacked." It seemed that she had been listening when Birdie had been talking, knowing details about her life. "Her name is Birdie and she seems really nice. And, she likes to draw. Other than that, I don't know much else about her yet."

Bruce smiled, pleased. "I'm glad you aren't alone, Ana," he commented, sighing as he looked at the basket. "I would have asked Alfred to buy more supplies if I knew you had a roommate."

"It's fine," Anastasia said, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't mind sharing."

It was quiet between them for a moment, neither of them daring to say a word. Perhaps, it would have been easier if there wasn't a glass wall between the two of them. She wanted to hug him, give him a kiss, and tell him how much she missed him. But, it would run the risk of infecting him. She never wanted to put Bruce in harm's way. It was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

"So..." she whispered, scratching at her arm. "How's Alfred?"

"He's okay. Worried about you, of course," Bruce said, giving her a smile. There was something off about him, something she couldn't place as he watched her with tired eyes. But, he would never share what was bothering him. "He wanted to come along, but they only gave me clearance to come visit."

"Oh, I see," Anastasia mumbled, wishing she had been able to see Alfred too. It had been too long and it was difficult to be apart from people that become part of your daily routine. If she was being honest, she saw Alfred more than she saw Bruce before. And, Alfred seemed to enjoy her company too. She missed cooking with him, having tea in the parlor, and going on walks together throughout the manor grounds. He was the father she had always wanted. "Well, when you do see him, Bruce, tell him that I miss him very much."

"More than you missed me?" Bruce teased, tilting his head.

Anastasia smiled, stifling her laugh as she rested her hands on the table again. "Yes, of course. Way more than I missed you," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "What can I say? Alfred is my favorite person."

"I think you're his favorite person too," Bruce reassured, nodding his head. He shifted in his seat and she could see his features twist in pain for a moment. When he caught her concerned gaze, he gave her a sad smile. "Not a moment goes by where he doesn't mention you. You're family, Ana. You always have been. He missed you so much," he continued, sighing. "We both did."

"And, I missed the two of you too," Anastasia whispered, sighing. She clasped her hands together, wishing she could confide in Bruce about what had happened. But, a voice deep within her mind told her that he already knew and that he didn't believe her either. He was just like the rest of them.

It was quiet again. Bruce waited for her to speak, opting to remain quiet as he watched her carefully. Perhaps, he thought she was going to tell him the truth. But, she didn't dare.

"Infected individuals aren't allowed visitors," Anastasia pointed out, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted. She tilted her head, smiling. "How'd you arrange all this?"

"A little show of cash made that rule disappear," Bruce reassured. She wasn't surprised Warden Quincy Sharp had allowed himself to be bribed, knowing the man was only looking out for himself. It was the impression she had gotten last time from him and it was the fact he so easily was able to keep the underground lab hidden. "You don't have to worry, Ana," Bruce said, noticing her perplexed expression. "I'm here now. I'll fix everything. I promise."

She drew circles on the table, letting out a soft sigh. "You can't fix this, Bruce."

"Ana, it will be fine," Bruce stated, trying to provide his dying wife with some solace. It was a truth both of them knew, but neither of them had touched upon it yet. "Once we get you home, this will all pass over. You'll move on. And, it'll all be like a bad dream."

"A bad dream?" Anastasia scoffed, narrowing her gaze at him. "They haven't found Laura, Bruce. She might be... She might be dead. And, it'll all be my fault!"

"Ana━━"

"I led her there. It's because of me that she was there and was attacked by that creature!" Anastasia continued, interrupting Bruce as her voice edged on shouts. Her hand rested on her chest, feeling the suppressed pain start to manifest. "Bruce, I saw her bleeding out. Her blood was... is... on my hands. I killed Laura."

"You did not kill Laura," Bruce corrected, shaking his head. "Do not say that."

"I want to believe she's still alive, Bruce," Anastasia whispered, letting out a heavy sigh. She couldn't stop the tears, clutching at her chest to stop the pain. "But... She lost so much blood. And, I couldn't find her in that other world. I looked for months. She's gone, Bruce. Laura is dead because of me."

"Ana, it'll be okay," Bruce reassured, watching her sob. On the other side of the glass, there wasn't much he could do to help her as he watched her cry. He wanted to reach out, but all the money in the world wouldn't allow the militia waiting outside to change their mind. And, they followed the orders of Mayor Harvey Dent who had expressed their clear dislike for them. "Ana, please calm down. We'll find Laura alive, I promise."

She frantically wiped at her tears, trying to regain control over her feelings. In her distressed state, she hadn't realized what she had told him. A cough left her lips, then another, and another. Until red covered her hands and sleeves, something Bruce had noticed too. But, Anastasia couldn't stop the tears, covering her face as she cried. She couldn't hear Bruce's words nor did she hear the door open. She felt a hand on her shoulder, making her jump as she looked at the doctor. The first thing she noticed was that he wasn't wearing a hazmat suit. He stood tall, wearing a white lab coat with round metal-rimmed glasses. She couldn't see his eyes, seeing her own reflection stare back. Another thing that stood out was the man's lack of hair, donning a clean-shaven head.

"Come on, Anastasia," he said softly, sparing a glance in Bruce's direction as he handed her a clean handkerchief. He placed a gentle hand against her head, trying to soothe her crying. "Perhaps, it wasn't the best idea to allow visitors."

"N-No... I'm fine," Anastasia gasped out, shaking her head as her grip tightened around the piece of fabric. She didn't want to risk her visitations with Bruce, but she hadn't been able to control her emotions. She wasn't sure if it was herself or if it was the virus causing her outbursts. She looked in Bruce's direction, noticing the glare he held in the doctor's direction. "Doctor━━"

"Come along," he said, shaking his head as he refused to listen to Anastasia. He kept a hand on her shoulder, unwilling to move or leave. "It's time for bed. It has gotten too late."

Bruce stood to his feet, angry. "Excuse me━━"

"Yes, excuse you, Mr. Wayne," the doctor said, helping Anastasia to her feet as he placed a hand on her back. She stumbled for a moment, feeling dizzy but the doctor held her upright. "You being here does not help your wife. It has caused her unnecessary stress. Trust us, we're trying to help her."

Bruce didn't respond to him, looking at Anastasia instead. Desperation clinged in his gaze, wanting to take her home back to the manor. But, all he could do was helplessly watch the doctor take her away. "Ana, I will fix this. I'll bring you home, I promise," he said. "I love you."

She stared at him, shaking her head. There was no going home, something both of them knew. "Bruce," she said slowly, sniffling. "I'm so sorry."

It was all she had a chance to say before the doctor took her out of the room. He held her close, giving her a gentle smile as he ignored the guards' presence. "Visitors aren't allowed for a reason, Anastasia," he said, looking down at the blood-stained handkerchief. One thing she noticed was that he wasn't scared to run the risk of being infected, watching as he took the fabric from her and pushed it into his pocket. "It is detrimental to your recovery."

"It was only my husband━━"

"Yes, I know all about Mr. Wayne. I'll even have his gift basket brought to the room in the morning," he said, stopping in front of her door. He flashed his badge, unlocking the door to allow them inside. It seemed as if Birdie had already gone to sleep. Slowly, the doctor led her toward her bed. "Sit."

She took a seat on her bed, staring at the doctor. He looked... oddly familiar. But, it was difficult to see most of his features. The only light in the room came from the hallway through the small square window in the door. She hadn't realized how much time had passed, seeing the moon and stars outside. Though, it was November 1st and the sun always set faster during the colder seasons. But without access to a clock, it was difficult to tell what time it was. She wished she had asked Bruce.

He smiled at her. "My name is Doctor Hugo Strange."

For a moment, her mind flickered with recognition. Doctor Hugo Strange was a name they found in the documents about the experiments, having been a part of it. He was one of the lead scientists, along with Doctor Franklin and Doctor Radcliffe. "You... You were part of the experiments..." she said softly, not caring if she was accusing him of a crime. "The one my parents were a part of."

Doctor Strange paused, but not surprised to hear her words. He must have learned from Doctor Radcliffe that she and Laura had snuck into Arkham Asylum and tried to uncover more information about the experiments. She had explored the underground lab, been inside their office, and encountered the creature down there. If it was still down there, considering a rift could have opened and taken it back into the other world. "I was a part of the experiments and that is why I'm in charge of handling this virus too," he said gently, looking down at her. He placed a gentle hand against her cheek, sighing. "You look so much like your mother, you know?"

"I get that a lot," Anastasia mumbled, remembering her mother's face in Memory Lane. Her father had gotten rid of all mementos of her mother over the years, causing her to forget what she had looked like. But, Memory Lane brought her mother back to Anastasia. She was around twenty-six years old in the memories she had access to. She hadn't gotten far into her memories, only seeing up to her first birthday before she had been locked out.

Doctor Strange lowered his hand, keeping the smile. "I know you must not think highly of me," he said, sighing. "Those experiments... They were vicious, but we kept those people locked up for a reason. This isn't the first time this virus has spread." His words made Anastasia frown, but she listened. "Back then, we had your mother, Patient Zero. She was the first one infected and the only one who didn't turn."

"She was immune?"

"Not sure. Either immune or the virus was slow-acting in her blood." He shrugged, pressing his lips together. "We tried to come up with a vaccine from her blood all those years ago, but nothing worked. The only person it seemed to heal was your father, William Lovejoy. Only they didn't suffer from the virus."

"But, that isn't true," Anastasia countered, shaking her head. Her memories showed up in flashes, blinking before her eyes before they disappeared again. "My father... He... There was something wrong with him..."

"After they left the asylum, I don't know much of what happened to them," he said, sighing. "I didn't keep track, grateful to not be involved anymore. I was a young doctor then, afraid to go against my superiors. The Waynes and Arkham held all the power and they never stopped their pursuit for more power. It only took reaching the grave to stop their pursuit for more power."

"Waynes?" Anastasia echoed, knowing that Bruce's family had been a part of the experiments. "As in Thomas Wayne?"

Doctor Strange clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "His father, Patrick Wayne, was the one. I remember Thomas, he was barely eighteen at the time. But, I'm sure he knew what was going on since he went and became a doctor himself," he sighed. "Look, Anastasia. They forced my hand in the experiments. I didn't want to, but I had to. Do you really think I would still be employed here if I was some evil mastermind?"

Anastasia stared at him, shrugging. "I guess not."

"See," he said, going to pat her shoulder but she moved out of his reach before he could touch her again. She didn't want anyone touching her shoulder blade, knowing that's where the creature had bit her. He sighed sadly, giving her a smile. "I am only here to help you, Anastasia."

She frowned. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Trust goes both ways," Doctor Strange commented, towering over her seated person. He may have trusted her, but she didn't trust him. She remembered how much her parents feared being caught, having lived their lives in secret until they were able to gain some power with Carmine Falcone's help. "I want all my patients to trust me. After all, I'm tasked with saving all of your lives. It's why you don't see me walking around in the stupid suits."

As if on cue, the door opened and a nurse dressed in a hazmat suit walked in. She held a silver sterile tray with a vial of a dark liquid and an empty injection sat on top. She also had a change of clothes for Anastasia. It made Anastasia narrow her eyes, glaring at Doctor Strange. She didn't know what the doctors were injecting her with nor did she have any information on the pills they were giving the patients. It was all new medication, not having been tested fully yet before they were given to the patients. But, they didn't have too many options and the medication did seem to be somewhat working.

"Change first," Doctor Strange said, handing Anastasia the fresh clothes. "Then, we'll give you the medicine."

She frowned, but did as she was told. In the bathroom, she changed into the new clothes. She avoided her reflection that stared back, not wanting to see how dead she looked. A part of her told her that she could trust Strange, telling her that he was a victim in all this too. But, another part refused to trust anyone except for herself. She wasn't sure what to do, quietly folding her old clothes before putting them into the plastic disposable bag the nurse had given her. She stepped out of the bathroom, seeing the doctor and nurse engaged in a quiet conversation.

"Everything is okay?" Strange asked, taking the bag from her before handing it to the nurse.

"I don't want another shot," she mumbled, rubbing her arm from where she had gotten two injections earlier. Her arm was still sore, quietly asking for a break.

"Don't be afraid," he said softly, noticing the look on Anastasia's face. He stood, washing his hands in the bathroom before the nurse helped him put on a pair of gloves. He came back, picking up the injection before taking off the cap. He took some of the medicine vial, watching as it filled the syringe. It almost looked red in what little light was in the room. "Hold out your arm for me, Anastasia."

"What is that?"

"You've been coughing up blood all day, haven't you?" Doctor Strange asked, raising his brows as if he already knew all of Anastasia's secrets. She didn't answer his question, sighing. "It's a new medication, we're hoping it's more effective than what we've been giving before."

"Have you given it to the others?" Anastasia asked, not wanting to be the first person to try out the new medication. She didn't need her two weeks of life cut down to two minutes.

"Well... We haven't tested it on a person yet," Strange said, being completely transparent with Anastasia. "With your husband here, the warden wants your recovery to be our utmost priority," he added, making Anastasia frown. She hoped Birdie wasn't awake to hear that part, knowing she didn't approve of how the Waynes were known to throw their money around. "I think the Waynes being here makes the warden nervous. All of Gotham is watching us now."

"But, I'm your first test subject," Anastasia pointed out. "What if something goes wrong?"

"It's completely safe," the nurse reassured, nodding her head.

"It has been lab-tested, Anastasia," Doctor Strange reassured, not bothered she was asking too many questions. Though, she did notice the glare he sent in the nurse's direction. "The virus is still unknown to us and we're trying our best. But do remember, it is our goal to find a cure and have everyone healthy here."

Anastasia sighed, slowly nodding her head as she took a seat on the bed. "Okay, fine."

She held out her arm, watching closely as he looked for the most prominent vein before injecting her with the new medication. A few quiet moments passed, the doctor and nurse watching for any strange reaction. At first, she didn't feel any different. Then, the wave of dizziness hit her as she blinked. She frowned, trying to protest as Doctor Strange helped lay her down on the bed. The world spun, blurring the man's features.

"I... I... I don't feel so good," she whispered, lifting her hand to press against her forehead.

"It'll take some time to get used to the medicine, don't worry," he said, pulling the blanket over her. She focused on him, seeing only her dazed expression in the reflection of his glasses. "Get some sleep, Anastasia. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

♡

I TOOK ALMOST A WHOLE MONTH TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER and I am still not happy with it, but this is what we're getting. I am so sorry, honestly. I was so excited to write Anastasia and Bruce's reunion, but it feels so off. I think it's because of them are still lying to each other and there's a thick glass wall between the two of them (literally). The reunion when she's actually out of Arkham Asylum will be something to look forward to, hehe. For now, let's read these awkward musings as the two are unsure how to handle each other. It's only been two weeks for Bruce, but it's been so long for Ana. I feel so bad because she doesn't even know how to react anymore properly.

In the next two or three chapters, we should hopefully leave Arkham Asylum behind. I just need to build up Hugo Strange and Arthur Radcliffe's characters in these few chapters! We'll see a lot of them in the next chapter. I know we'll see more of Birdie and maybe even John (who we all know will become the Joker eventually). I never fully plotted out these Arkham Asylum chapters so I am going with the flow of what will happen. It is why it's taking me longer than usual to write these chapters. But, I am excited to get back into the "real world" soon hehe.

ALSO, WE MET BIRDIE FOWLER. I know I mentioned her as a character in a book that Anastasia was reading a while back, but now she's here. But, is she really here? Or is she another hallucination? We will never know. But, Birdie Fowler is the character of my friend Remy samwnchesters and I love her so much. Go give Remy all the love and read all about Birdie in her book No Time to Die! I am so excited to write Ana and Birdie's friendship, but it makes me miss Laura so much. Just wait till Selina and Laura's family finds out that they found Ana, but not Laura. It's going to be a lot of drama and intense scenes.

I do hope you guys liked this chapter! I do feel a bit iffy about it, but I have no idea how to fix it. So, just going to post and keep moving forward! I have written a bit for the next chapter, but it might take me some time to come out with a new chapter. With my new work schedule, I only get to write on my days off. So, I haven't been making as much progress as I'd like. But, slowly but surely! Also, if you guys see any mistakes or repeat paragraphs, I am so sorry. My editing skills have not been the best.

AMARA.
[ PUBLISH DATE ━━ 02.20.2023 ]