"Arkham Asylum" Entry: If You Rebuild It, They Won't Come
Title: If You Rebuild It, They Won't Come
Universe: Nolanverse
Genre: Gen, introspective
Rating: PG
Characters: Bruce Wayne
Word count: 625
Warnings: None
Summary: Bruce plots to rebuild Arkham, with some Gotham on the side.
~*~
The more Bruce read about it, the more he thought Arkham Asylum should have gone the way of his mansion-burned to the ground so it could be rebuilt better. The building had been old, and then it got partially blown up, and then with more and more people going crazy due to Crane’s toxin, it was getting full.
What the city needed was a brand new facility with state-of the-art everything so that it had a chance of actually rehabilitating its patients.
What the city had was a giant yet overpopulated hunk of rock surrounded by the poor, and an administration that couldn’t care less.
The city needed more men like Gordon calling the shots, and more capital to make something like a new facility possible.
Well.
There were a few things Bruce Wayne was good at other than base jumping and spelunking.
In between rebuilding his home, being present at his company, and spending his nights capturing criminals, he took some time to study all of the political candidates to find the one that best represented what Gotham needed. All the candidates. Sometimes the best ones simply didn’t have enough financial backing to make it close to the election.
After covering all bases and triple checking his research, Bruce decided to put his money into Harvey Dent. He seemed to truly care about Gotham and where it was headed. And he didn’t need as much cash as some of the other candidates, which meant Bruce could budget more of it into his new pet project: a newly constructed, well-staffed, fully equipped, and secure Arkham Asylum.
Maybe he could even insist on the name being something more like “Arkham Rehabilitation Institution.” Less medieval sounding. Might make being there less stressful for the inmates.
Patients.
And what could Bruce add to make it even better…
He plotted.
~*~
A week later Bruce had plans for a new top notch facility. In addition to all the standard bells and whistles, he added in a few of his own.
A separate security system with wireless camera feeds going to his temporary Cave.
Passages with secret entrances that only he would know about.
Caches of extra weapons for Batman in case a riot did break out and he was needed.
All Bruce needed was to have his own people come in and build the spaces he needed, and he’d outfit them later. No one needed to know what they were for.
And it wasn’t as if he didn’t have the money for it all, bespoke features included. He’d just eat more peanut butter instead of steak to make up for it.
The biggest hurdle, as usual, was the city wanting to build a new institution. Or not build it as the case may be. No doubt the argument would be that Arkham was perfectly fine, everyone stayed locked up most of the time, and every once in a while an inmate was even cured.
It was sickening, really.
But something told Bruce that if he didn’t try to make things better, Batman’s life would be that much more difficult. Arkham bred insanity like standing water did mosquitos. Maybe if Arkham didn’t exist in its current form, there wouldn’t be so many problems with mental stability in Gotham.
With that thought in mind, Bruce rolled up his blue prints-the public ones, not the ones with his secrets-to give to his selected architect, who would in turn give them to the mayor. Bruce planned to actually involve himself once the plan was rejected, though he’d be there to introduce the architect. He mentally prepared himself for one of the hardest fights in which he’d surely ever engage, one with an indeterminate outcome.
He steeled himself to fight city hall.
Universe: Nolanverse
Genre: Gen, introspective
Rating: PG
Characters: Bruce Wayne
Word count: 625
Warnings: None
Summary: Bruce plots to rebuild Arkham, with some Gotham on the side.
~*~
The more Bruce read about it, the more he thought Arkham Asylum should have gone the way of his mansion-burned to the ground so it could be rebuilt better. The building had been old, and then it got partially blown up, and then with more and more people going crazy due to Crane’s toxin, it was getting full.
What the city needed was a brand new facility with state-of the-art everything so that it had a chance of actually rehabilitating its patients.
What the city had was a giant yet overpopulated hunk of rock surrounded by the poor, and an administration that couldn’t care less.
The city needed more men like Gordon calling the shots, and more capital to make something like a new facility possible.
Well.
There were a few things Bruce Wayne was good at other than base jumping and spelunking.
In between rebuilding his home, being present at his company, and spending his nights capturing criminals, he took some time to study all of the political candidates to find the one that best represented what Gotham needed. All the candidates. Sometimes the best ones simply didn’t have enough financial backing to make it close to the election.
After covering all bases and triple checking his research, Bruce decided to put his money into Harvey Dent. He seemed to truly care about Gotham and where it was headed. And he didn’t need as much cash as some of the other candidates, which meant Bruce could budget more of it into his new pet project: a newly constructed, well-staffed, fully equipped, and secure Arkham Asylum.
Maybe he could even insist on the name being something more like “Arkham Rehabilitation Institution.” Less medieval sounding. Might make being there less stressful for the inmates.
Patients.
And what could Bruce add to make it even better…
He plotted.
~*~
A week later Bruce had plans for a new top notch facility. In addition to all the standard bells and whistles, he added in a few of his own.
A separate security system with wireless camera feeds going to his temporary Cave.
Passages with secret entrances that only he would know about.
Caches of extra weapons for Batman in case a riot did break out and he was needed.
All Bruce needed was to have his own people come in and build the spaces he needed, and he’d outfit them later. No one needed to know what they were for.
And it wasn’t as if he didn’t have the money for it all, bespoke features included. He’d just eat more peanut butter instead of steak to make up for it.
The biggest hurdle, as usual, was the city wanting to build a new institution. Or not build it as the case may be. No doubt the argument would be that Arkham was perfectly fine, everyone stayed locked up most of the time, and every once in a while an inmate was even cured.
It was sickening, really.
But something told Bruce that if he didn’t try to make things better, Batman’s life would be that much more difficult. Arkham bred insanity like standing water did mosquitos. Maybe if Arkham didn’t exist in its current form, there wouldn’t be so many problems with mental stability in Gotham.
With that thought in mind, Bruce rolled up his blue prints-the public ones, not the ones with his secrets-to give to his selected architect, who would in turn give them to the mayor. Bruce planned to actually involve himself once the plan was rejected, though he’d be there to introduce the architect. He mentally prepared himself for one of the hardest fights in which he’d surely ever engage, one with an indeterminate outcome.
He steeled himself to fight city hall.