HEART OF STRAW

After Jonathan has a psychotic break and again becomes the Scarecrow, broken hearted Bruce has no choice but to let the authorities commit him to Arkham, even knowing that it will break him irretrievably. Bradshaw does what he can to help Jonathan but as predicted the confinement in Arkham has rendered the young doctor catatonic. Bruce is inconsolable as he believes it to be all his fault that the incident happened in the first place. It was his job to care for the man and he failed to protect him.

A month into Jonathan's stay at Arkham, with his identity now known by the public as being the man who terrorized Gotham as the infamous Scarecrow, Bradshaw calls Bruce with what may be salvation. A new DID treatment by a Swiss doctor who claims that he has a cure for the rare disorder. It's radical and it's dangerous but it's the only chance Jonathan will ever have to be released from the asylum back into society as cured.

The procedure supposes that the underlying cause of all DID is extreme trauma and that no matter how medicine "manages" the condition the underlying cause will never change, will never go away, therefore there is always a chance for relapse. This doctor proposes that if the original trauma was removed then the patient's personality would develop as it was normally meant to.

In the past, the only way to affect memory on that massive a scale would be high level electro-shock therapy, that while effective, is nothing short of a non-surgical lobotomy. The doctor instead advocates precision radio wave bombardment of the brain. It would be targeted at specific memory centers and would erase emotion based memories while leaving knowledge intact.

"How does it work?"

"Well, simply put, facts are stored in a different area of the brain than emotional memories," Bradshaw started, "This procedure removes personal experience while leaving fact-based knowledge intact. If this works as advertised we would be able to wipe away someone's horrific past while leaving their intelligence virtually whole. There would be very little reeducation needed and that would be only in regards to things that need to be reintroduced."

Bruce shifted in his chair. He'd all but given up hope only to have this potential miracle drop into his lap. To say that he was more than skeptical would be an understatement but there were few lengths he wouldn't go to, and had, to try and save Jonathan Crane. He supposed that made him as mad as the Scarecrow.

"The person in essence would re-develop his personality from scratch based on the new memories that he makes going forward. His emotional development immediately after the procedure will be absolutely critical to his recovery. That's another reason why I think this has a good chance of succeeding. Your emotional connection to Crane is the only one he was ever able to forge. If he can bond with anyone, it will be with you."

The potential was staggering Bruce thought. "With a stable foundation instead of a horrific one then the Scarecrow will never be created in the first place."

"Exactly. I'm not saying that this event won't be traumatic for him because it will. He will wake up not knowing where he is or why he's there. He'll know he's Jonathan Crane but he won't know who Jonathan Crane is.. if that makes sense. He'll have to re-learn himself. It won't be easy for him to do all that and still have to come to terms with what he did in the past. But with medication to help stabilize him through it and someone to help him rebuild emotionally then he has a damn good chance."

Bruce's thoughts and emotions were colliding in his head at about a million a minute. Bradshaw was saying there was hope. Something that would help Jonathan become sane. A cure. They could be together. They could have their life together. Bruce's heart wanted to soar from his chest. If it were that easy… and nothing was ever that easy. "What are the risks Allen?" Bruce fought to keep his voice steady.

"I wouldn't bring this to you if I didn't think we had a chance."

He wouldn't be dissuaded, he'd come too far. "But what are the risks?"

Bradshaw leaned back, running his hand through his hair, "I'm sorry to be so blunt but considering how far gone he already is, Bruce, I don't know that anything we do could make it worse. Yes, the risks are significant as they would be with any experimental brain procedure but the benefits if this works is nothing less than a cure for him. A normal life without the remembered trauma that warps his mind.. without the Scarecrow."

There was the bait, now where was the hook. "And if it doesn't work?"

"He doesn't wake up," Bradshaw answered simply.

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "And if he does wake up, you're saying he will just, what? Be a new person?"

"No, not exactly. That's what makes this treatment so potentially exciting, not just for treating DID but opening up all kinds of doors for other patients previously considered incurable. The basic essence of what makes Jonathan who he is should remain. There is little actual physical damage to brain matter as with electro-shock. We can target only those areas of the brain that hold emotion based memories. Anything of the day to day of his past will be gone. BUT, fact based knowledge will survive the procedure intact. It's likely that he will still be a brilliant doctor and chemist. Providing that his "re-set" personality still takes him in that direction…"

"I thought you just said that he would still be Jonathan," Bruce pressed.

"He will be. But who knows what he would have chosen for himself if he hadn't been driven by rage, pain, and obsession. He might just as easily have wanted to become an artist or writer."

Bruce breathed a soft laugh. "Forgive me Allen, but take the word of someone who knows Jonathan probably better than anyone, including himself, he wouldn't be an artist. He's too fascinated by how things work, deconstructing and figuring out what makes things tick.," Bruce paused, his voice suddenly thick, "This was my fault. I shouldn't have let the police take him."

Bradshaw reached out and placed a steady hand on Bruce's shoulder. "How would that have worked? Would you have fought against the police to stop them? Think about it. You'd be in prison for aiding and abetting a dangerous fugitive and Jonathan would probably be dead. You did what you had to do, Bruce. He didn't leave you any choice."

Bruce put his head down. He was just so damned tired. "I could have taken him back home with me."

"And what? Wait until he tried to kill you again? Until he escaped and started experimenting on people again? How many more people would die and how much more would you hate yourself because of it? Sending him to Arkham was the only way."

The doctor made it sound so simple. It was anything but. "Yeah? Tell that to him. Oh that's right, he's catatonic, so he probably wouldn't have much to say."

"Bruce…"

"I know, I know. Just let me wallow in guilt for another moment." Bruce's mouth narrowed into a thin line. "All right, this treatment of yours. What will it take?"

"The equipment and the knowledge to use it correctly," he offered succinctly.

"Don't worry about the equipment. I can have that on a plane tomorrow." This was familiar. Getting things like this done was something he still had some control over, Bruce Wayne, billionaire industrialist. This was something that he could do instead of drinking himself into a stupor.

"It's not assembly line stuff, Bruce. There's only one unit in existence."

"Doesn't matter," Bruce stated assuredly. His mind was made up. There wouldn't be anything in heaven or hell that could stop him from moving forward now.

Bradshaw's smile was understanding, "Doctor Strange has actually been in touch with Arkham for some time. He's agreed to take the administrator's position here. He'll be in Gotham within the month. Once he's settled in, I'll oversee Jonathan's treatment myself with him supervising," his tone was reassuring. "Until then I'll make sure that Jonathan is well-cared for and monitor his condition."

"Another month in that hellhole isn't going to do him any favors." And who was to blame for that? But he hadn't had a choice. Jonathan hadn't left him any, Bruce justified to himself.

Bradshaw rubbed his hand over his face, not quite meeting Bruce's gaze. "I don't think he knows where he is anymore. What's really your concern?"

Bruce snorted. "You know what my concern is. This is Arkham we're talking about."

"It's not as bad as it was! We're making changes for the better. And you know I wouldn't let anything happen to him."

"You can't be there twenty four seven. There are people on both sides of those padded walls that would like nothing better than to get a crack at the Scarecrow. I want to pay for added security."

Bradshaw took a deep breath. They'd been dancing around the issue. "People will start asking questions."

He'd had a long time to think it through, back when he and Jonathan had been doing a deadly dance. What would he do to keep what he'd fought so hard for? "I don't care. I really don't. My reputation means less than nothing to me. I already created a media monster to protect my identity as Batman. Finding out that Bruce Wayne has been in a relationship with "The Scarecrow" will keep the tabloids busy for a while, at least until the next scandal catches their attention. But in the end, the more open and normal we present this, the sooner the fervor will die down."

Bradshaw was silent for a moment. Then offered, "I tend to agree. Though I do believe there may be more of a fall-out for you than just being the freak of the week for the paparazzi. You're talking about admitting to feelings for a notorious mass murderer. There will be those that will never accept that." Bradshaw considered, "Do you think putting your name in the same breath with his will alert any of your enemies to your "other" identity?"

Bruce shook his head. "I've been very careful and very thorough. No one sees me as anything more than a dilettante. They'll just think it's another ridiculous phase or a reason to get press. The public will be disgusted and Wayne stock will probably take a dive for a while but it will blow over." He paused, "As for the ones that can't accept it..." He sighed, "I can't help what they think. It may not make sense. I may be crazy. But that's the whole of it. I love him and I won't abandon him. This was not his fault."

"It won't be an easy road," the doctor stated.

His face tightened, "I'm not dismissing what he's done, it was horrific, but he wasn't in control. He's sick and if there's any way we can help him that's what I'm going to do. I want a life with him."

"Then let's make that happen." Bradshaw smiled.

"You mean it don't you. You really believe this could help him."

"I do. You're my friend and I know what he means to you. I wouldn't have come to you lightly, Bruce. I think this could be the right answer for Jonathan and for you."

Hesitantly, Bruce returned his smile.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Bruce walked with his head down, not because he didn't want anyone to recognize him but because he couldn't stand to look at the sickly green walls and the iron doors. Even through the heavy metal doors and padded walls he could still hear the sounds of suffering. There were the tears and fear, the desperation that filled the air and smothered you, it was overwhelming. He hated this place. Bruce took a deep breath. It could just have easily been himself in here, he thought. The anger that had overcome him after his parent's murders had driven him nearly to the breaking point. Some would say that he went a little mad in those years following and he would have to agree. How many people dressed up like a bat and beat criminals into a pulp? Exactly one, that sort of said it all, didn't it.

He learned that sometimes all it takes is one bad day to destroy you. In Jonathan's case, there had been many. Too many bad days for his psyche to endure and he broke. He fractured like glass into something sharp and deadly. Twenty six people were dead by Jonathan's hand. One hundred and eighty nine were unlikely to fully recover from the effects of the toxin. Some would die slowly over time, locked in their own nightmares and locked in a padded cell. There were hundreds more that would continue to suffer effects probably on and off for the rest of their lives.

Guilt threatened to overwhelm him again. All those deaths, all that pain, it was all on his shoulders. He had known that there was always the possibility that one of his enemies would find out about Jonathan and come after them. In his fevered scenarios it was always about blood, revenge, and death. He just hadn't really considered that someone might want to take Jonathan away from him for a completely different purpose. One just as full of blood, revenge, and death… only not Jonathan's.

He still died a little inside. He told Jonathan that he could make it work. He promised. So much for promises. Jonathan had touted from the beginning that it wouldn't end well. First, with threats, that at some point he would try and kill him. Then later, when it became obvious that he wasn't the only one invested in maintaining their strange connection, Jonathan had told him that they would both suffer for trying to have something normal.

Bradshaw turned back to him causing Bruce to come to a sudden halt. "Half an hour?"

Bruce looked to the small window in the heavy door and shuddered. He wanted to push past Bradshaw and grab Jonathan and run just as far from this place as he could go. With his money and influence he had no doubt that they could make it... for a while. But he would be protecting an empty shell. Or worse, he would be freeing a monster to wreak havoc and heap more guilt onto his shoulders. At some point, he would end up in the cell next to his lover's. "Could I have a little longer?"

"Sure. I'll check back in forty five. I know I don't have to tell you to be careful."

"No, you don't," Bruce snapped back. "Sorry."

Bradshaw smiled again and reached out, "We don't know how much he hears or understands so just talk to him. It might help. Let him know that we may have found something to help him."

"You're ok with me telling him?"

"Of course. I wouldn't go into details but whatever hope you can offer him is good. You should have hope too you know."

"I do. I'm just… " Well, if you couldn't tell your psychiatrist what you were feeling… "Scared, I guess." Few things ever scared him anymore but the thought that he might lose Jonathan, lose that peace they'd found with each other was more horrifying than the Scarecrow could ever be.

That gave the doctor pause. "Maybe you should wait to see him. That's not a good frame of mind to be in when you're around him, Bruce."

Bruce shook his head. "It's not like he can play mind games with me now is it. I'm fine. Can I just see him now?"

Bradshaw nodded and using the card key punched in his pass code. The door made a whirring, grinding sound as the lock jolted back. As the door opened, the lighting in the cell rose to high florescent glare. Bruce stepped through the opening and his chest clenched at the sight of his lover huddled in the corner of the small room in a ball. He turned and nodded to the doctor who shut the door with a resounding clang.

Bruce took a deep breath and walked quietly over to where Jonathan lie. He knelt down, reaching out tentatively and brushed the hair from Jonathan's face. The man was heavily medicated but he still started at the touch. "Hey Jonathan. It's Bruce. Can you hear me?"

The man frowned but didn't move. Bruce stroked his face and head lightly. After a moment the man's face relaxed again and he sighed lightly. Bruce watched him sleep. Two years ago if someone had told him that he would be in love with a psychotic super-villain he would have laughed in their face. Their… courtship… had been rough in the extreme but the more he had learned about the young doctor the more he came to realize that they needed each other in a way that might not be logical, might not be sane, but soothed both their demons in ways that no one had ever been able to touch. With Jonathan, he had found peace, and that was saying a lot.

Unfortunately, the peace was fleeting. It was stolen moments caught between violence and insanity. Still, he wouldn't trade those moments for anything. He'd really thought that the situation was tenable. He'd believed that they would be able to work through therapy and it would make a difference. One week off the meds was all it took to prove to him the folly of those dreams. But he hadn't been the one to pay for that romantic delusion. No, twenty six people had paid.

"Jonathan, Doctor Bradshaw has found a new treatment. We want to try it with you. This wouldn't be like last time. This could be a cure. You and I could have a life, better than before, because you wouldn't have to worry about the Scarecrow." Bruce stroked his forehead. "Can you hear me? Jonathan." A flash of blue peeked out from slitted eyes. "Hey," Bruce soothed. "I'm here. I came to be with you awhile."

His lover's eyes were open now and staring straight ahead. There was no acknowledgment that the man had even heard him. Bruce leaned over and tugged him up to a sitting position against the wall. "Can I get you anything? Are you thirsty?" Bruce continued to stroke his face lightly, anything to make a connection. He reached out and turned Jonathan's head and looked into his eyes. They were still so blue you could drown in them but they had somehow lost their intensity. The lights are on but no one's home, he thought bitterly. He'd done this by allowing him to be put in this place.

"It won't be much longer, I promise. This Swiss doctor has a new treatment. It will help you." It has to... for both our sakes. "You have to hold on awhile longer. He's on his way. As soon as he's here, Bradshaw will start the treatment... and.. you'll get better." Bruce moved up next to Jonathan and pulled him into his arms. "I failed," he murmured. "I made you a promise and I failed." He smiled ruefully, "Of course, you told me what would happen. Repeatedly. You're quite the ray of sunshine. I really miss that sharp tongue of yours, you know." Bruce closed his eyes, "Don't you dare give up. You hear me? You want to hear me say it? After all this time. I know you've longed for it."

Bruce opened his eyes and cast his gaze to the ceiling, "I'm afraid. I'm so afraid."