"I really don't see why you waste your time at Arkham when you could be making money just by selling this to the government." Jonathan told Morgan as she packed patient files into her bag.
"Arkham provides test subjects. Good one's too. When people see the patients at Arkham, they see crazy, insane people who aren't afraid of anything. But, I know that isn't true." She paused. "Don't you want to know what these people fear?"
"I would love to know that Morgan, but I can live without knowing if it means knowing you aren't around those maniacs every day." Jonathan sighed.
"What do you fear most in this world Jonathan?" Morgan stepped closer to him.
"Losing you." The response was robotic. she asked nearly every morning, and he always answered the same way.
Morgan gave him a small smile. Jonathan loved that smile. He loved everything about Morgan from her wavy black hair and emerald eyes to that smile.
"I have something to tell you later." Morgan said suddenly.
"What is it?" Jonathan asked, slightly concerned.
"It's a surprise. I might be a little late, but you'd better be awake when I get here because this is important." She smiled again and walked out the door.
Never in his life did Jonathan believe that that would be the last time he saw that smile.
It was close to midnight when the phone rang. He got up, assuming it was Morgan who still wasn't home. It wasn't Morgan.
"Is this Jonathan Crane?" The voice was gruff, slightly impatient.
"Yes. Who is this?" His foot was tapping impatiently, a habit he had.
"This is Jim Gordan down at the police station. We need you to come in."
"Now?" Jonathan checked his watch. Five past twelve.
"Yes now. Please sir, this is urgent." The line clicked off.
Sighing in annoyance, Jonathan wrote a hasty note to Morgan in case she came back, and grabbed his coat and keys and drove into the dark Gotham night. When he got to the police station he knew something was wrong. Morgan's sister was there, which couldn't be good.
"Isabelle." Jonathan nodded in greeting to the woman.
"Hello Jonathan. So they called you down here too then? Don't suppose they told you why?" Isabelle asked.
"No, I'm afraid I'm as lost as you are." Jonathan said.
"Ah, Mr. Crane, Ms. Reynolds, follow me please." A man, presumably Officer Gordan waved them in his direction and Jonathan and Isabelle followed.
They walked past several desks and offices and other rooms, and Jonathan could feel his heart pounding as they were led further and further into the police station. He sensed Isabelle was tensing as well.
What do you fear most in this world Jonathan?
She had asked him that so many times. Officer Gordan opened a door for them. A door labeled morgue. BEside him, Isabelle was already tears, but Jonathan was simply numb. He wouldn't feel anything until they showed him proof. He wouldn't shed a tear until he knew she was really gone.
What do you fear most in this world Jonathan?
This. This is what he feared most. The agony of not knowing if he lost her.
"I'm sorry Mr. Crane, Ms Reynolds. You were her only family in town. I thought it would only be right for me to show you." Officer Gordan bowed his head. He stood near a metal table.
"Show me my wife. I won't do anything until I know it's her." Jonathan could feel his hands shaking.
What. Gordan was by the table. Do. His hands were on the sheet. You. Isabelle grasped Jonathan's hand, feeling the agony he was. Fear. He was afraid. He was so afraid it was her. Most. Gordan was lifting the sheet up. In. Jonathan felt nauseous, he had never felt so sick in his life. This. Isabelle's face was pale as a ghost, her hand covering her mouth. World. How was he supposed to survive in this world without Morgan. Jonathan. It was Morgan. It was his wife. He was alone once again.
"I'm so sorry Mr. Crane."
Jonathan was only dimly aware of Gordan's words.
"And I'm sorry about your child."
Jonathan looked at the man in shock.
"My child?" He hissed. Was this some kind of sick joke?
"She was going to tell you tonight." Isabelle's voice came out softly, barely more than a whisper.
"Oh, God." He felt dizzy, and sick, even sicker than before.
"Jonathan, Morgan was pregnant." Isabelle said.
That was the last thing he remembered before passing out.
The funeral was hell. Absolute hell. He had to endure the dirty looks from Morgan's entire family, because they thought it was his fault because he didn't pick her from Arkham up that night. It was his fault because he let her work there in the first place. The only one who wasn't throwing him looks was Isabelle. They had agreed not to tell her family about the baby.
After the funeral was finally over, Jonathan went home, and he went to sleep, hoping he would dream of Morgan. He didn't. Instead he awoke to a slamming door. He got up and cautiously crept into the living room, where he could see most of his apartment. Whoever had been there, they had left the kitchen light on. Jonathan walked over here wearily and sat down at the table, head in his hands.
And then he noticed the sticky note on his table. The one he had left for Morgan. However, his message was scribbled out and replaced with one that said Finish what I started, and you'll see me again. -M Then there was a phone number. Even though he knew it wasn't possible for it to be her, he picked up the phone and called.
"Yes Mr. Crane, we've been waiting for your call. My name is Ra's Al'Ghul, and I worked with your wife."
And Jonathan knew he didn't mean he worked with her at Arkham. Smiling to himself, he said, "How can I help Mr. Al'Ghul?"
And in that single moment, Scarecrow was born. And if Jonathan had ever seen Scarecrow out of his head, I'm sure it would have had black hair and green eyes.