His Darling Assistant

Part 10: The Scarecrow

Seeing as Dr. Crane had been arrested, you took the mantle as Arkham Asylum's sole director. Every day after the construction workers had finished up, you conquered your uneasiness towards the basement and tried to help the inmates recover from the toxin. You weren't making much progress, however, and you knew that Jonathan had given them enough of the drug for their symptoms to be permanent, ensuring their stay at the asylum. You transferred them all to the upper level, opening the solitary ward for patients who needed it.

You were glad to be the director of Arkham, as you felt you were doing good work and helping the mentally ill, however, there was one part of the job that you absolutely dreaded. As Arkham's head (and the only) psychiatrist, you were to assess Jonathan and deem him fit for trial. When that day came, you reluctantly arrived at Blackgate Prison, a looming, ominous building that seemed to match your mood.

"Doctor, what a surprise," said the Scarecrow as you slipped into his cell, "how the tables have turned." He looked up at you, head leaning sideways against his chair, smiling slightly.

You steeled yourself and looked away from his eyes, instead focusing your attention on the small notebook you held.

"Why are you smiling, doctor? Are you glad to be here?"

"Well these handcuffs weren't quite made for comfort," he said. You smiled back at him, but it didn't reach your eyes. He was so different from what you remembered. Except he wasn't, was he? He was always this cool and calculating. You wondered if he ever truly loved you.

"You know I can't take those off of you, Dr. Crane."

"I also know exactly why you're here. Don't forget, I was in your position once."

"Did it please you to know you had power over so many of the minds in Arkham? Does it make you feel powerful, doctor?"

"Don't psychoanalyze me," said Crane, smiling still, "I am perfectly sane and fit to stand trial." Three rapt knocks were heard on the doctor's cell door.

"I'll be the judge of that, Jonathan. Our time is up. I'll see you again a week from now," you said, standing and turning towards the door, happy to get away from him. He scared you, and what was worse was you were pretty sure he wanted to.

"I'll eagerly await your return. It's good to talk to someone who shares my knack for fear, for once."

You turned back to whisper into his ear, "I'm nothing like you, Doctor. It will do you good to remember that."

With one final look into Jonathan Crane's still-smiling face, you turned on your heel and let the door slam behind you, blood boiling. How could you have ever loved him? How could you still?

+++

Jonathan Crane tried not to acknowledge the pang of loneliness that coursed through him at your words. Watching you retreat out of his cell, he didn't allow his smile to drop until he stopped being able to hear your footsteps down the hall. He thought it was strange, given that he'd inhaled his fear toxin which meant he should fear everything he sees, that you hadn't phased him. Your face was a welcome distraction from the scarecrow that had followed him from his childhood into the cell and now lurked in the corner behind his chair. He couldn't see it, but it was there. He could feel its raggedy breathing on the back of his neck. Hey, Jonny boy, it said, that's gotta hurt.

"No," Jonathan whispered to nobody.

Oh, yes. I'm back, did you miss me?

Jonathan closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. He tried to steady his deafening heartbeat and clutched his hands into tight fists from inside his straitjacket. You're imagining things, Jonathan. It's all in your head.

Oh, no, Jonny. The Scarecrow's voice was raspy and dry. I'm here, all right.

Jonathan thought of you. He conjured your face in his mind, the way you chewed on your lip while deep in thought.

She can't help you now, Jon. Don't you remember? She just dumped ya!

"Leave me alone," Dr. Crane pleaded.

She dumped your sorry ass and left you to rot, Jonny. Are you gonna stand for that?

He thought of your eyes. The way they seemed to envelop him in a sense of paradise.

How about the way they controlled you? Are you gonna let yourself be controlled like that?

"Get out of my head-"

You're the one who conjured me up, Jonny boy.

"GET OUT!"

The Scarecrow was silent for a moment, but Jonathan could still feel his presence. He inhaled deeply.

I'll leave, Jonny. Gladly. You just have to let me go.

Jonathan said nothing.

See? You need me. I protect you, don't I?

Jonathan felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and didn't dare to open his eyes.

Say my name, Jonny. Let me in.

He shook his head, feebly. It didn't phase the monster behind him.

Say my name.

"Please-"

SAY IT!

There was a pause, and Jonathan felt a single tear roll down his cheek before he gave in to the fear.

"Scarecrow," he whispered.

The Scarecrow opened his eyes and smiled.