AN: I'm back... Well, it wasn't until someone pointed out to me that this story really wasn't all that graphic for me to go look at it again. Sure, there are some scenes that ff probably wouldn't like, but I am still seeing some messed up stories up on the site that if my stories should be taken down, so should theirs. So... I'm reloading the story everyone! And will do so with all of them. If for some reason you log on and find that my stories are once again gone... you can find me at - your fan fiction dot com - with the same penname. So, in deleting all my stories, I lost all of my reviews. For those of you who don't remember, I was close to hitting 200, so, I would like to have those back! So, read and review! Hehehehe...

Chapter 1: A Brief Glance

All she could feel was pain, everywhere she felt the pain, and all she could hear was the beep of the heart rate monitor, that annoying beep that she was so use to, and all she could see was white; the ceiling of the room was so white. She didn't know how long she had been there, but it felt like she had just arrived, but she knew that she couldn't possibly have.

"Miss Napier, are you awake?"

Someone suddenly leaned over her form, the figure of an older woman taking away the white ceiling from her vision. She almost wished that she could see the ceiling again, this woman's wrinkles were right up in her face and she had lipstick on her teeth; she should have put the lipstick on first then put her teeth in, but she didn't want to be blinded by the light either. So she made a small grunt, acknowledging her question and answering her to the best of her ability.

"Do you know where you are?" The old woman asked and that's when she noticed the white nurse's uniform she had on.

At least it wasn't as white as the ceiling. She slowly nodded her head in response to her question.

"Hospital," she croaked out, her throat dry and rough.

She had been here enough times to know that before she had even opened her eyes. Like knowing that she was attached to a heart rated monitor, she just knew that she was in the hospital. It had this sense of presence, though the chemicals also gave her hints of where she was.

"That's right; do you know how you got here?" The nurse asked, bring a cup of water with a straw to her lips to let her drink.

She took a sip and closed her eyes at the relief it brought to her throat then shook her head, not knowing how she had come to be at the hospital, her father would have never brought her here.

"Your friend, Patricia Lackey brought you here. She found you in your home quite beaten up. She has told officers that this is the work of your father, is that true, Miss Napier?"

Lana's eyes widened and she shook her head. How could Patty tell them that? She didn't want any more trouble from her father.

"So, it wasn't your father?" The nurse asked.

"No," she answered, ignoring the knowing look on the nurse's face and the pity glance she got.

She must have read the previous hospital reports and police reports on past injuries much like these ones she had right now. She knew what was wrong with her too; it was the same almost every time. Bruised ribs, bruises all over her body except her face, and strangulation marks around her neck.

"Miss Napier, we found skin particles under your nails and have given it to the police to analyze for DNA. Now, do you want to tell me who did this to you or should we wait until the results come back?"

Lana sighed, having forgotten that she scratched the hell out of her father.

"It, it was my father," she whispered, bowing her head as she admitted that she had lied to the woman.

The nurse nodded, aware that it was already the young girl's father.

"There's an officer here outside the room to get your statement and to press charges if you want to go forward with that. Also, your doctor suggested that you get evaluated for trauma. Fortunately, one of Gotham's best psychologists is here, so we have called him up to see you-."

"I'm not crazy," she whispered, interrupting the woman because she didn't want to see a psychologist.

"I know that sweetie, we all do. We are just sending for Dr. Crane to make sure you aren't harmed mentally from this whole episode. With everything that's been going on with you, it's good to see that you don't suffer from depression or any," the nurse paused, looking around her to make sure no one was around before she leaned forward and whispered, "suicidal tendencies."

"But I-."

"Don't you worry about it dear, I'm sure you'll be fine," the woman interrupted, pinching her cheek lightly. "I'm going to send the officer in to talk to you. I will be back to check up on you before you see Dr. Crane."

Before Lana could say anything, the nurse exited the room and seconds later a police officer walked into the room. He was an older gentleman, probably just a few years younger than her father. He looked old enough to have a grown child like her, but she was sure that the years of being an officer in this city made him look that way.

For instance, he didn't have any graying hair, all sandy blonde, which meant that he was probably just in his early to mid thirties. But there was evidence of stress wrinkles in his face, laughter wrinkles around his lips and eyes. At the same time she was studying him, he was watching her. He noticed the moment that he walked in that her form tensed up and she glanced nervously at the closed doors, as her eyes widened. The poor girl was obviously afraid that he would do something to her.

"Miss Napier, I'm Officer Gordon. You can call me Jim if it makes you more comfortable," he stated, coming to stand beside her bed, trying to ignore her panicked expression as she moved away from him as far as she could, and pulled out a notepad and pen. "I'm going to ask you several questions to figure out what has happened exactly. The nurse told me that you confirmed that your father did this to you?"

She merely nodded, wanting to talk as little as possible to this man.

"Now, do you know exactly what happened? Your father is on a no contact order with you, do you know why he came to see you?"

"Money," she whispered, tucking her blonde hair nervously behind her ear, a habit of hers. "He wanted money and I wouldn't give him any, I have trouble taking care of myself while going to school, working, and trying to pay the bills."

Gordon nodded as he started looking through some of his notes.

"It says here that you emancipated from your father, but I don't have anything that says when this happened. Would you please tell me how long it's been since you've been separated from your father?"

"Only a couple weeks, it got finalized earlier this month," she whispered, her head bowed as she nervously tugged on her hair and bit her lip.

"And how did you afford to get your own place, since we have on record that your father wouldn't let you get a job."

Lana's eyes narrowed in confusion. What did that have to do with her father beating the crap out of her?

"My cousin left me some money, in case I ever got the chance to get out. He lived with us for a little while before he run away several years ago. He puts money in my account every now and again, but I never hear from him."

"You never wonder where this money comes from?"

"I assume he works, he doesn't send me enough to worry that he's doing anything illegal. I'm sorry, but what does this have to do with why I'm in the hospital?"

Lana watched as the officer blushed at her comment.

"No, I'm sorry Miss Napier, I got off subject. I didn't need that information; I was just trying to figure out a motive for your father. Did he know you received this money from your cousin?"

"Well, I don't know when or how he found out, but he did mention it when he was at the house this morning."

"Can you please tell me exactly what happened at your apartment this morning?"

He sighed as he threw the last file in his briefcase and shut it close. Finally, spending several hours at the city hospital was not how he wanted to spend his time. He could have been working at Arkham and working on his toxin instead of wasting his time here, he was so close to perfecting it. He was sure that he could have it ready in a few days time. He was on his way out when he heard his name on the speakers of the hospital speakers.

"Dr. Crane, please dial 482, please dial 482."

Jonathan Crane sighed as he made his way to one of the phones at the receptionist desk. He ignored the young nurse barely out of school and makeup plastered on her face as she tried to get his attention with what he assumed she believed to be a seductive smile and flashing her low cut shirt that showed her cleavage in front of him.. He gave her a look of disgust, ignoring her as she pouted and he dialed the required number.

"What do you need?" He said, interrupting the nurse on the other line before she could ask who it was.

By his tone and speech she knew who it was immediately.

"Dr. Crane, I have a patient that needs an evaluation on Dr. Gregor's recommendation. He wants her evaluated for suicidal tendencies and trauma."

"And why does he want that?" He said, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice, not that he cared if she knew he was annoyed.

He was never one to hide his emotions. He's the best physiologist in Gotham; he didn't need to fake manners with people he thinks are disgusting and annoying.

"The patient has been repeatedly abused by a parent and he's afraid of the impact that this will have on her."

"Has child protective services been called?" He asked in a bored tone, pushing back the frame of his glasses.

"She is no longer in her father's custody, she has legally separated from him, but he has broken a no contact order and she is here with several injuries."

Jonathan sighed, rubbing his temple before saying that he was on the way to the patient's room, getting the room number and patient's name. He hung up the phone, picking up his briefcase and walking to the elevator. As he was on the way to visit his new patient, he thought of what he had been told.

He wasn't use to dealing with abused patients, none that hadn't been declared criminally insane at least. He worked with criminals, not damsels in distress. Before he knew it, he was at the patient's room and he gave a light knock before entering the room. A police officer was in the room, taking a statement most likely, as he walked in and closed the door.

"Miss Napier, I'm Dr. Jonathan Crane. I will be the one doing your-," he paused, finally turning his gaze to the woman on the bed, unable to speak as he got his first glance of her.

It wasn't the bruises on her arms, legs, and throat that caught his attention; it was her face, her eyes. She looked helpless and undeniably beautiful. Though it was obvious from her tortured eyes and the bruises that she was an abused victim, she had a glow about her. It was like she was the flame and he was the moth, something about her just drew him in. She is the most beautiful creature he has ever seen.

Her pale skin seemed to glow even as her leaf green eyes shined with unshed tears. Her light blonde hair was spread out behind her, straight as it flowed to her waist. Her tortured eyes stared at him in confusion and fear. Fear, an emotion that he loved seeing in another's eyes, but not hers. He didn't want to see that fear in her eyes, he wanted to chase her fears away, and he wanted to help her, he wanted her. Some way he was going to have this woman.

"Dr. Crane? Dr. Crane?"

He snapped from his daze and turned to the officer who had been calling to him. He cursed silently under his breath as the officer stared at him with a knowing look, knowing that the doctor had found his patient attractive.

"Excuse me, I will let you finish up here and be right back," he said, quickly slipping out the door.

He leaned against the wall, leaning his head back as he sighed. If he didn't know that love at first sight didn't happen, he would have swore that is what he experienced in there, but love at first sight didn't happen. Damn, he felt desire towards the woman, a raging desire to possess her. Jonathan stood straight, straightening his suit as he pulled out his phone. He knew what he wanted to do, what he was going to do.

"I need a favor, Jack," he spoke into the phone. "Joker, whatever, if you do this favor for me, I will owe you one… I need my secret place installed with state of the art security equipment… I don't care, steal or buy the crap; I will pay for it… Yes, I want it done in a couple days… I will call you later with the details…. Do you have an unmarked van that I can use? I'm not sure when, the next couple days, she shouldn't be getting out of the hospital for a couple days at least… Yes, I will need a getaway driver when I snatch her… You got that right; I'm kidnapping a young woman…"

He pulled the phone away from his ear as the man crackled loudly on the other end of the phone, placing it back to his ear as the laughter died down several minutes later.

"I want her and I will do whatever I want to obtain her."