The Scarecrow smiled as he settled in to watch his psychology program. He was particularly excited for this one because it was all about fear and anxiety in children and teens. It was going to be a good one. Before the episode began, Edward Nygma walked in. He almost immediately rolled his eyes.
"Oh no, it's your programs." He exaggerated the last word, drawing it out to be dramatic. "Is there no room in that straw heart for the poor Riddler." He had stepped out in front of the TV now and looked into the distance longingly. Jonathon pinched the bridge of his nose to show irritation, but in truth he was always amused at these antics.
"Edward, you know I like this show. Go hack into the FBI website or something." Crane shooed him away playfully, and he complied, complaining in mock indignance as he left to his computer room.
Scarecrow settled back in and watched as the show began. It was a montage of photos and videos of young people with severe anxiety. It showed their reactions to simple tasks as leaving to school or getting ready in the morning. It was all good and well, until the announcer said a certain three letters.
"What do all these young people have in common? Simple: they all have OCD."
This made him feel slightly unsettled, but he continued watching. As it went on, he felt a growing unease about the cause of the fear he was at present struggling to enjoy. Part of him was delighted by the shrieks of a girl so afraid of contamination she wouldn't even touch something a schoolmate touched, but then he thought of someone else. Someone important. He watched it in this way until it got to a point where a teen was breaking down in tears and contemplating suicide just because she was so irrationally afraid of germs. At this point he turned off the TV and threw the remote at the ground. His heart was caught in his throat. He was thinking and remembering a time when it didn't matter, when Edward and his OCD didn't matter. When he could just deny the compulsions and delight in the panic- No. 'No' he told himself as he scrunched his body in and tried to push out the memories.
He got up from the couch and walked to the computer room. He knocked, but when there was no immediate reply he just opened the door anyway, it wasn't locked. He was shocked to see Edward with his head in his hands in front of a monitor. It was playing the show he had been watching. Edward's shoulders were shaking. Crane wanted to put his hand on him to help, but stopped.
"May I touch your shoulder?" He spoke softly, something he only ever did when Edward was like this.
Edward's head shook back and forth slightly, nodding no. Crane felt his stomach knot slightly; this was definitely a panic attack. Knowing the show must have triggered it, he carefully, so as to avoid touching the frail, shaking form, turned off the monitor.
"Don't worry… I'm here." He spoke as he sat near the Riddler. "I swear Edward, I didn't know it would talk of that, I didn't enjoy it." His words did little to comfort, and he hadn't expected them to, he just didn't want Edward feeling betrayed on top of everything else. Crane didn't enjoy seeing him like this, in another time perhaps he would've, but not now. It was going to take time for him to calm down, but he wouldn't leave; he would wait until Edward was ready, no matter how long it took.