Jonathan Crane made up his mind: he was going to run away.
That night, he slipped on his mask, shirt, pants, socks, shoes, hooded trench coat, fear toxin vest, and injection gauntlet for protection and slipped out of his cell. He climbed into the air vent and crawled into the bowels of the old asylum.
Jonathan dropped out of the vents, landing on his feet. As the man walked through the pipe-lined and and vent-choked corridors, a few rats ran past him. At a split in the paths, Jonathan came to a stop. Suddenly, he didn't know which way to go. He looked from path to path, uncharacteristically confused.
I can do this. I can do this. Jonathan smiled, but it was shaky. He forged ahead down the right-most passage. After a few moments, his smile faded and he doubled back and this time took the left-most passage. Several paces down, he stopped again and looked over his shoulder.
"I know the way," he tried to reassure himself softly, the echo of the basement, making his voice sound small. "I know the way. I got this." He ran back to the split, but now it appeared to have more paths than before. Which way did he go?
Jonathan licked his lips, cloudy blue eyes darting around desperately. Where was he going? Which way was he? Was he...? "I'm not lost," he told himself, looking frightened. He smiled maniacally now, though it was ghoulish on his pale face. Swallowing hard, he ran down a corridor.
"I'm not lost! I know the way!" The pipes twisted endlessly, and he felt the weight of his fear on his shoulders. He felt small, like a mouse in a maze. "I'm not lost, I'm not lost, I'm not lost," he repeated to himself as he ran on, turning this way and that. "I'm not lost!"
He yawned, realizing that it was morning. He stared up at the basement ceiling' s maze of pipes. Jonathan sat down against the wall and curled into a ball, sobbing quietly.
He was tired, lost, scared, and alone in the tunnels beneath Arkham Asylum.
His eyelids felt heavy and he felt them close, sleep washing over him. He fell asleep for a few minutes before a light shined on his face, waking him up. The Scarecrow rubbed his eyes and looked up to see a light, shining in one of the tunnels.
He got up and began walking along the lit tunnel.
The row of bulbs lead to a large pipe with split bars on the other side. He squeezed through the bars and found himself at a garage. He was free! The garage was used to keep boats that sailed on the Gotham Harbour. He couldn't just climb aboard a boat where someone could see him.
That meant he had no choice but to swim. Jonathan hit the icy water and sank beneath the surface, the cold took his breath away and he could feel it like an iron band around his lungs. The water was dark and he was disoriented from the jump, not knowing which way to go for the air he badly needed.
Finally he broke the surface, gasping for breath as the cold night air burnt his lungs. By now, the other Rogues noticed he was missing and were looking for him. They might search his cell.
Jonathan was treading water, exhausted by his struggle and still disoriented from the jump. he could feel his limbs becoming numb and heavy and he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. "You can do this," he muttered to himself as he struggled to the dock. His progress was painful as he dragged his body through the water and managed to drag himself out of the water and onto the concrete. He lay there panting and shivering uncontrollably for a few minutes as he tried to calm his racing heartbeat.
All he wanted to do was curl up on the ground and sleep. His eyelids began to close and he could feel himself slipping into the waiting darkness. Warmth crept over him and he heard himself sigh.
Suddenly he was jolted back to life. If he slept now, he would die and he refused to do so. He glanced around quickly, had anyone seen him swim? The night air was quiet around him, nothing moved and he couldn't see anyone. Jonathan knew he had to get away and quickly. The night air was growing colder and he would die of hypothermia if he didn't get warm soon.
It took every last shred of determination he had to start moving. His body felt leaden and numb and he stumbled as he pulled himself to his feet. Moving as stealthily as his aching limbs would allow he crept away from the water and back towards the bright lights of the city beyond.
The streets of Gotham were quiet as he walked. He kept to the shadows and alleyways in case he was being watched. He became exhausted after walking for what seemed like an hour. He fell down, exhausted. His breathng shallowed, his eyelids feeling heavy. He blinked, seeing a familiar black shadow.
"B-Batman..." and with that, he passed out. He didn't feel the shadow pick him up or lay him in a bed.
The smell of bacon, eggs, toast, and pancakes permeated the air. He stirred, opening his eyes slowly, and seeing a aged man in a tux holding a tray of breakfast in his hands.
"Breakfast, Master Crane," he said, placing the tray in front of him. There was a glass of orange juice, coffee, bacon, eggs, toast, and pancakes. "Courtesy of Master Wayne." The man left, leaving Jonathan to look at the food in front of him. His stomach growled. He guessed he was hungry.
He dug in, the first bite dancing on his taste buds. The blend of flavor was amazing. He'd never tasted anything better. Then came a knock on the door. In walked a talk, buff man. Followed by a red headed girl. They were Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon.
"Sorry about that. We were just making sure you ok," said Bruce. "You must of washed ashore from the Gotham Harbour," added Barbara. Jonathan looked at Barbara. She was walking on crutches. He sighed as she sat down with him. "I'm sorry for what Joker did to you," he whispered.
Jonathan sat in the tub, bubbles up to his neck, his knees to his chest. He had taken off his mask and set it aside. He was Jonathan Crane again. He heard a knock on the door and he ducked down in the water as the door opened and closed. A stack of towels stood on the stool next to the tub.
He sighed, got out, dried off, and got dressed. He walked out and saw Barbara with her hair down. She looked beautiful. "Care to join me?" she asked. He nodded, blushing. "I'd love to."