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Part 1/5
A storm was brewing early Thursday morning in Gotham city. Darkness enhanced each steely building, a fitting scene for a horror film. It was an appropriate welcome for the svelte body that leaned against the window.
Home sweet home.
Connecticut had its fair share of dark days, but lush greenery seemed to offset any feelings of gloom. It was peaceful there, a good place to work in university research after initially completing the program. An even better place to test serums and toxins on rural farmers no one would miss.
Beads of rain coated the hotel window obscuring his reflection a bit. Navy blue suit, crisp white buttoned down shirt, a pair of dark loafers that matched his deep chestnut colored briefcase, and raven locks neatly parted. The lanky, greasy, teenager that once was Jonathan Crane looked nearly unrecognizable. His height and glasses gave him away, although he traded the large black-rimmed spectacles for elegant clear framed ones.
Wow, we almost look normal.
We are normal.
You're right, Johnny. They're the ones who aren't normal.
The scarecrow grew stronger everyday. At first a kind friend, the only friend a suburban boy living on the outskirts of Gotham had. Years of abuse turned his friend hard and angry with those who hurt him. Seething rage took control sometimes, but while studying psychology at Gotham University and completing his Ph.D. at Yale, Dr. Crane felt he learned essential skills to cope with the scarecrow's ever looming presence. It took 28 years, but he finally knew when to feign stoic Dr. Crane and when to be the menacing monster obsessed with fear.
Don't forget your tie, Johnny boy.
Today he had to be the former. If he were ever going to enhance his fear serums, it'd have to be on a population of degenerates in a place with questionable ethics. Arkham Asylum was known for negligent care and unfortunate relapses of their patients. At least, until a year ago...
She isn't special Johnny, you are.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
We didn't come all this way for her.
I know that. I'm just-
Excited to see her?
What do you think?
She probably won't even remember you, ya know?
A dim pain rooted in his chest.
Yeah.
After what you did, why would she want to?
He gritted his teeth in annoyance. A nasty habit he perfected behind soft-pursed lips. The mannerism was equivalent to a duck treading water.
I got it.
Aw, lighten up, Johnny boy. We'll make sure she never forgets you. The whole town won't either once we're done. They're filthy insects, all of them.
With a spritz of deep musk scented cologne, black umbrella in one hand and briefcase in the other, Dr. Jonathan Crane ventured out. Arkham was generous enough to pay for his accommodations and it was conveniently within walking distance of the site.
It's showtime.
Security was quite comprehensive, requiring Crane provide two forms of identification, undergo a metal detector screening, and sign a waiver relinquishing liability in case of "patient uprising". The last bit excited the scarecrow.
Such a warm welcome. Crane silently mused.
Once inside, he followed the e-mail's instructions to take the elevator to the 8th floor. The elevator was sizable, but packed with bodies ranging from nurses to patients.
Ugh, someone is touching me.
I can't help it. It's a busy place.
Each floor required a stop, much to both Crane's and scarecrow's annoyance.
"5th floor." Alerted the robotic announcer.
Every fucking floor has a stop.
"Pardon me, excuse me." Called out a soft feminine voice. It immediately caught Crane's attention simultaneously triggering a dry lump to form in his throat. He hastily looked to find the source of the sound. One of the bodies littering the elevator attempted to wriggle her way out. She was young and had a blush colored dress on up to her knees, beige kitten heels, an oversized beige bag with red lining on one arm while her other displayed a draped folded white coat in the crux of her elbow.
Sloppy. That'll wrinkle.
It was a bit of a balancing act. She held a bag of chocolate kisses in one hand. The free hand attempted to push her bang to the side and out of her face, allowing Crane to get a good look of light gold and opal earrings. They radiated beautifully against the color of her long wavy hair, which was a mixture of brown and blonde highlights worn down. The colors exuded warmth. Kind bystanders held the elevator doors back so she could awkwardly exit the steel box.
That's new.
Your erection?
The stoic figure glanced down with internal embarrassment. The sight of this familiar woman caused a slight stirring in his arousal. Practicing mindful listening to each sound in the elevator allowed him to swiftly calm himself.
The hair was new.
After arriving to the 8th floor, Jonathan made his way to the director's office and checked in. An older man with grey hair welcomed him at the receptionist desk and buzzed Dr. Bryan Neil.
Dr. Neil gregariously entered the room and immediately shook Jonathan's hand with vigorous force. Had the elderly receptionist not been used to such a theatrical display, he would have found the sight bizarre. The Doctor was a portly pale man appearing in his 40's. He wore a black suit with his white coat atop and an odd pairing of sneakers below. Dr. Neil seemed to follow Crane's critical gaze and let out a hearty laugh.
"Trust me, they come in handy on inpatient. You never know who you'll be running after..." He moved closer to Jonathan with an animated look of terror on his face and whispered
"Or who you'll be running from!"
Ok. This guy is annoying.
Quiet.
Suddenly Dr. Neil burst out laughing and slapped his knee.
"Oh don't worry, son! It's just a bit of hazing. Between us, we've only had two applicants for this position. The other candidate doesn't nearly compare to the accolades of a Yale man such as yourself."
Crane forced himself to smile as if pleased with Dr. Neil's revelation.
How anti-climatic
It'll be easier this way. Besides, who would willingly want to work in this shit hole?
She seems to like it.
Is she going to be a problem?
What?
I said I've scheduled a tour of the facility before we head for the staff interview at noon. Is heading to the other units going to be a problem for your schedule?
Crane let out a low chuckle and threw his head back in a charismatic fashion, pleasing Dr. Neil.
That's right. Sell it.
"Why, I'd love a tour."
Crane listened on as Dr. Neil explained the hospital set-up, feigning ignorance and maintaining interest. In truth, he knew nearly everything about the facility already. The 8th floor where Crane would be working was home to administration in the west wing and the inpatient offices on the east. On the 7th floor was the actual living area of the inpatient unit. Patients ranged from cases of medical mismanagement and substance overdose to temporary holding of the more popular criminals of Gotham. After being stabilized, patients were transferred to either the lock-down intensive unit in the basement or referred to residential programs for either substance abuse on the 6th floor or trauma on the 5th. Then there were outpatient programs on the 4th floor. Any floor lower contained more administrative offices, the cafeteria, and medical care for physical health.
"Is there any program you'd like to see more of?"
Crane nonchalantly ran a hand through his silky hair and spoke in a drawl, not wanting to appear overly eager now that he already established rapport with his guide.
"I read that the trauma program was headed by a young psychologist and that there have been extraordinary changes underway since. Perhaps we could take a look there?"
Dr. Neil's eyes were beaming with pride.
"Ah, yes, Dr. Ali. She has been such a pleasant addition to the team. Please, right this way!"
Are we really doing this?
Why not? It could be useful for us.
IF she doesn't remember...
Didn't you see her in the elevator? She seems vibrant...not weighted down by hurt.
So you think-
There's only one way to find out.
Huh, all right Johnny. Lead the way.
Crane found himself once again facing the hallway of the 5th floor and casually strolled out of the elevator. Dr. Neil guided Crane through the serene colored hallway filled with pictures of flowers, clouds, and other depictions of nature.
"This doors leads to her office."
It was adjacent to the nursing station, but didn't require any other security. Crane was surprised at how accessible she was, but then his eyes wandered to the hauntingly familiar plaque on her door and tore him from any other thoughts.
It was a small light-colored wooden sign. Blackbirds were hand painted at the corners. It read "The doctor is out".
Crane pursed his full lips and removed his glasses, coming closer to the worn sign. The action prompted a brief flashback.
I told you I didn't need anything for my birthday! I can't accept this.
Jonathan knew she worried about his finances. It used to embarrass him, but he found ways around being of limited means.
"I made it myself. One of the only good things I learned how to do back on the farm."
"Are you sure? " The girl bit her lip, clearly torn between humility and excitement over receiving the unexpected gift.
"Trust me. It'll come in handy one day."
Don't get all sentimental on us.
But sh-
"I admit it's a little tattered, but Dr. Ali insists on adding character to her office." Dr. Neil let out a hearty laugh.
Is he always this Jolly? We might have to shoot him now.
Crane stifled a smirk.
"Ah, she must still be in group. Very hands on I must say. It should be ending in a few minutes. Right around this corner." The plump fellow lead Crane to another door with a glass window. He could make out some patients sitting in the room with some murmurs and muffled...laughter?
These people are nuts.
"They seem to be having a good time. Is that typical of her patients?" Crane cocked an eyebrow, but remained fixated on the window. She appeared to be laughing as she struggled to speak, a sticky dark substance coating her mouth.
"Oh, yes. There are groups for processing trauma that do tend to be heavy, as you can imagine, but her coping skills based groups typically end well. Dr. Ali's patients have taken a real liking to her."
Dr. Ali swallowed the substance completely and got up to collect what appeared to be foil wrappers. Suddenly a gaunt face appeared in the window startling Crane, though he masked it well. With a twist of the knob, seven patients of varying demographics filed out. He coyly watched, taking in each body as a potential specimen for later.
Look at this goldmine!
I'm aware.
"Mindful eating, eh. That's what you need to do more of, Lisa!" A patient spoke in a harsh tone, patronizing whoever Lisa was.
What a little shit.
Crane quietly closed his hands into fists, the pull of hatred from scarecrow over someone being bullied was strong, but laughter followed the patient and a middle-aged petite woman just tussled the younger patient's hair in a playful fashion. His grip relaxed.
They're just friends.
You know there's no such thing.
"Don't forget rounds are this afternoon! See you in a bit!"
The gorgeous woman curtly nodded to her patients as they exited the lavender sitting room. Afterwards, she turned to her colleague accompanied by a somewhat familiar silhouette in the doorway.
"Good morning Dr. Neil and?" She narrowed her eyes and cautiously stepped forward.
"Dr. Ali, I'd like to introduce you to-" But before another word was spoken, Dr. Ali's features swiftly changed from curiosity to enthusiasm. She called out at once in disbelief, shaking her head as if to test reality.
"Jonathan? Jonathan Crane!"
Her smile was full of warmth and genuine excitement.
She remembers and she's happy to see me?
Well, that's a surprise.
Before Dr. Crane could respond, slim arms enveloped him, her golden brown locks swaying with the motion. Being so close to her, he couldn't help but take in her scent.
She smells like sunshine
It's disgusting.
Liar.
Struggling to find words, Dr. Crane finally mustered a bemused smile.
"Hello, Nadia." With a bit of fumbling, he managed to place his hands gently on the small of her back.
Woah, aren't we handsy?
I can't help it. She's shorter, even in those heels...
Oh, Johnny. You naughty boy!
He banished the scarecrow in favor of this fleeting moment with his old, friend? No, they had always been more than that. For a few seconds they remained in a close embrace. It wasn't until Dr. Neil cleared his throat, reminding the duo of his presence that the veil of momentary bliss lifted
Let's kill him first.
Calm down.
Nadia initiated their return to decorum, acknowledging her colleague's discomfort. Usually she was extremely skilled at feeling the air around her, but she was utterly surprised to see her old friend. Once completely withdrawn from her tall counterpart, she glanced towards Dr. Neil, unable to hide a slight pink that graced her tan cheeks. Crane greedily savored her flush.
"Well, Bryan. I'm-" She placed a hand to her forehead panting, the smile never escaping her face.
She's so full of life.
Focus on what we're here for.
"I'm- I'm sorry. I know the doctor, actually." The way she said doctor revealed a mix of admiration and pride in her voice. It took Crane aback hearing such recognition.
Say something, idiot.
"Yes, we went to undergrad together at Gotham University."
Dr. Neil clapped his hands once more, a display of friendliness.
"Is that so! Well, you should be aware of his interview today at noon for the inpatient position."
Nadia's eyes widened with elation as she placed one hand on her hip.
"Oh, that's right! I heard there was a candidate for interview today, but didn't know who it was. I usually stay out of inpatient. It get's pretty busy down here in residential."
Dr. Neil gestured to Crane and spoke.
"Of course. I was just giving Dr. Crane here a tour of the building and your program."
Nadia nodded gingerly.
"Yes, a residential treatment program for post traumatic stress disorder and comorbid conditions with trauma. Our average length of stay for program completion is three months and we work diligently to make sure folks leave here with jobs, housing, even connections with family members."
As if we didn't know about it already...
Hush.
Why? So you can ogle some more at this annoying cunt?
I'll have none of that!
"Jonathan?" Her soft voice snapped him out of the internal dialogue.
"I apologize, I was just taking it all in. What were you saying?" His icy blue eyes regained composure as he turned to lock with the deep brown of hers. If he hadn't known better, she seemed to be dazed as well.
Well what do you know, Johnny boy? Someone thinks you're a handsome fella!
Don't be absurd.
"I said, what do you think?" Her hands dove into the pockets of her white coat as she stiffened her posture, mimicking pride.
"I think it's amazing here. Perhaps we should work together to enhance discharge options from the inpatient unit for patients who would benefit from intensive trauma treatment." He glanced at Dr. Neil who was beaming with pleasure at program initiatives that could elevate Arkham Asylums reputation.
"That is, of course, if I should be fortunate enough to join the team."
Dr. Neil clapped a hand to Crane's shoulder and sighed.
"Well, we really love young blood. Ever since Dr. Ali joined the team and a few of our social workers we've had great patient care reports and even higher discharge rates with non-repeat offenders!"
We need to fix that.
A smirk played across Crane's face, drawing suspicion from Nadia that went unnoticed by either doctor in front of her.
"I personally think you'll fit in just fine. Dr. Ali, will you be joining us for the interview?"
She looked down at her rose-gold colored watch and shook her head solemnly.
"Unfortunately I have a meeting with outpatient care services, but let it be known that Jonathan" She flashed another heart stopping smile his way.
"That Dr. Crane is extremely skilled in diagnostic impressions and would be a wonderful addition to the inpatient program. He has a real understanding of patients' wounds. How and what it is they feel, even fear."
She really thinks that about me?
Well, she's a tart, but she's right.
The feigned composure shifted and Jonathan felt like the unsure teenager he was when they first met. A look of gratitude mixed with surprise flooded his face. Nadia took notice and rubbed his arm.
"I really hope you get the position, Jonathan. I'd love to work together. If...when you get the job..." She gave Dr. Neil a wink.
"I'll take you out to lunch to celebrate. My treat!" With that she turned on her heels and waved goodbye at both men.
"Now that's a strong recommendation from our trauma program manager. I'll be sure to bring it up during the staff interview. Not that you need it, son!"
Crane smiled absently at the blubbering man. Today was a victory. Not only was the position a sure shot, but Nadia recognized him and she appeared to enjoy his presence. Something not a lot of people do once they see the real him.
The scarecrow inwardly laughed in triumph.
She could be more useful than I thought.
No. We won't hurt her again.
Did it ever occur to you that she doesn't remember?
It doesn't matter.
And why the fuck not?
Because I do.