Snippet #936218

Vinson made sure there was no one in the hallway before opening his door and guiding his last patient of the evening out. It was a building with many functions, so being seen there was not a sure sign of psychological distress, but most of his patients were at least partly paranoid. Some might have said that most citizens of Gotham were partly paranoid, although most of them had reasons for their fears.

He finished up his paperwork for the day and looked at the reflection of the setting sun as its orange glow inflamed the newer buildings. People on the street outside seemed to pick up their speed as they rushed to and fro. The other half of Gotham would start to wake up around now. The other half of Vinson would be waking up, too. He longed for a time when both halves could get a good night's sleep. But it wouldn't be tonight. And Vinson still had to get home.

Vinson could walk to his apartment, but after dusk it was something of a dicey proposition. He didn't look like the richest man in town (and he wasn't, not by far), but he also didn't look poor, down, and out. Even they were sometimes taken for a ride in Gotham. If he were attacked, he could fight back, but that was what Halo was for, to bring light out of the darkness. The Batman had taught the city that the man behind the mask is a different man. In Vinson's case, a good man, too, but with a very different task. So Vinson made his way to the well-lighted train station nearby and waited for darkness to fall.

The train ride home was insignificant, but challenging in its own way. There were so many sick and helpless the train just whizzed past. Even on the train there were two women whom he feared would not make it through winter once it came, whether from the cold or from the fun they spoke of in garbled whispers to each other.

In his small, unassuming, and safe apartment, Vinson prepared for the evening, turning on GNN and listening for the latest news in the news-filled town. So much of it wasn't even covered because it occurred in bad parts of town. Vinson shuddered to think of Arkham and his brief practicum in that worst part of Gotham. It was certainly a way to weed out the hundreds of would-be criminal pathologists, him included. There was little hope for the poor souls in that place. Some, yes. But many more, no. He stripped out of his work clothes and into a cheap but clean outfit he'd bought for tonight: a long-sleeved shirt and cargo pants. No one would consider them the attire of a professional and no one would think of a therapist if they saw them on a poor homeless person the next day. He headed out with a grey package.

In a dark alleyway a few blocks away from his apartment, Vinson again doffed his clothes and unfurled the grey suit. He felt the warm embrace of Halo as he slipped into the costume. He would leave his human clothes on a rooftop somewhere. If they were there when he returned, all the safer for Vinson. But Halo had no fear of being found out.