A/N: I'm kind of going my own way here with Jonathan and the fear toxin. It's going to be a combined mixture of the comics/Gotham/Batman Begins, but due to the fact that this is the Cillian Murphy incarnation, it's going to be labeled as such. I'm sorry if Jonathan has any OOC moments, I'm kind of using this idea to get back into writing. The chapters aren't always going to be a continuity either, but they are still apart of the same story. Any feedback is welcome! Thanks! -humanwithrabbitears

"Fear can also be inappropriate," The professor continued, leaning against the front of his desk. His hands were clasped in front of him, so tight his knuckles were beginning to whiten. "For example, we might experience a rush of terror while watching a slasher movie, even though we know the monster is an actor in makeup and that the blood is not real."

Dumber than pond scum, came the little voice in his head. It took everything in the tall and skinny man not to roll his eyes and reply.

"Fear can attach itself to pretty much anything -spiders, clowns, paper, or carpets - and significantly impact people's lives." He continued, crossing his arms across the white button up he had on, scanning the room. A few people were furiously typing away on their computers, taking notes of the things he said. Some visibly had their earbuds in as he spoke, showing they had no care or plan to use any of the things he was saying. This caused him to grip his arms, making his knuckles go white again.

More guinea pigs, The voice whispered giddily, a rare emotion from either of them. Well, mainly from Jonathan. Scarecrow on the other hand was a disastrous mixture of anger, disgust and easily amused.

Agitation was already flooding through the blue eye mans body. The latest experiments had gone well…a little awry this time. He thought he was close to getting it, but human trials again proved disastrous. This time, one of the air-headed girls he taught, took the whole vial. She got the whole effect and more. An hour later, she laid dead on the lab floor, eyes scratched out in both hands, barely breathing. The only good thing that resulted from this was that he was able to easily gather more cortizal and adrenaline for the serum. He heavily sighed, scanning the room again, this time for targets, picking a couple who were blatantly ignoring him, focusing on other things.

A hand from the middle of the row, distracted him from his thoughts and he studied for moment, trying to place who was in that seat before it dawned on him. Morgana Drake. Odd name, but then again, he was in Gotham. It wasn't exactly the most normal place on the planet.

"Yes, Ms. Drake?" He asked, preparing himself for whatever was about to come from the girls mouth.

"How does the brain decide what to be afraid of? You had a couple in your example, but what makes the brain choose those fears? Even the irrational ones?"

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, which wasn't too visibly seen due to his glasses. "Phobias are anxiety disorders, Ms. Drake. They can attach to anything you can think of. Anablephobia is the fear of looking up, octophobia is the fear of the figure eight, vestiphobia is the fear of clothing. Someone who witnesses someone falling off a bridge might develop a phobia to bridges," He spoke, walking away from his desk just slightly, hands in his pockets. "Sometimes, the origin can be relatively easy to understand, others not so easily. In general, though, a phobia's origin is tricky to unravel - after all, most people who witness someone falling off a bridge do not develop a phobia of bridges, so there is more to it than just a simple experience."

Jonathan walked to the white board, writing the homework he expected from the class after the weekend. "In this class, you're going to learn how to unravel a phobia and cure it. I want an essay about your phobia and an in depth explanation of how you'd cure it."

Just as he finished speaking and writing, the class ended, students shuffling out. He went to his desk, trying to quickly gather his things to get to his lab and continue his research. He still had to figure out what he could do to get more subjects. He didn't have nearly enough to create another test batch. Sure, he could just drug and abduct the students, but that wouldn't cause their brains to create nearly enough of what he needed. He needed something to really strike fear into them.

He was so close to recreating his fathers serum. So close, but so far. His grandmother threw away all of his fathers things after his parents had passed away, leaving him with nothing to go on. If only he had something with his fathers notes, then he could have had this done and over with and continued giving people the gift his father gave him. No fear. So many, many, many things could be accomplished without fear. Fear was the basis of all humanity's errors and if he could cause the world to face theirs, they as a species could create so many more wonderful things.

He just had to get there.

*parts of Jonathan's speech to the class is from: .