Jonathan Crane's smile wasn't the most attractive thing in the world. His slim face pulled taut and gaunt giving his expression a flat, utterly frightening appearance and his eyes—those gorgeous blue orbs that were usually so hypnotic—just enhanced the look of unquestionable, incurable, madness. Hardly anyone ever even saw him smile, and those that did were usually locked up in Arkham. It was quite fitting actually, that only people about to be driven mad had the unfortunate experience of seeing Dr. Crane smile. So when his newest patient didn't look frightened in the least upon him smiling, Crane had good reason to be taken aback.

"What's the matter doctor?" the patient said in a low, guttural tone—almost as if he knew he was unnerving Crane, which was of course impossible, for no one was impervious to the sort of methods this psychiatrist possessed. "Just a second ago you were smiling. Something troubling you?"

All patients, when brought in for therapy, where restrained in some manner. This particular patient had received a constant straitjacket whenever out of his cell. Sociopath's were ruthless, uncaring, and smart. Clever. And they enjoyed manipulating others in the cruelest ways. This one was no different. He was not from Gotham; he had no records of any sort; no database could recognize his fingerprint, he had no identification, and he claimed to have no name. When asked what he would respond to his tongue would flick out of the side of his mouth and with a twitch of his brow he'd say "Joker."

Crane ignored the comment. "This is the first time you've been to Gotham, is it not?"

Joker shrugged, neither confirming nor denying Crane's question.

"Well, it seems that whether or not you've been in Gotham long, you are unaware of how things work here in Arkham. I'm the one in charge of how much food you get, how often you're allowed to shower, and whether or not you're to have arm movement enough to scratch an itch. You're given the prescription I prescribe, the punishment I deem necessary, and are treated the way I want you to be treated. Is that clear?"

Joke shrugged again. His utter lack of respect irked Jonathan. Joker had been in Arkham for 2 days and the reports of his behavior were rather boring. He complied with simple orders, answered all questions (though the answers were often peculiar), and didn't act out in the slightest. The fact that Joker was choosing to be defiant now, when he was with Crane, rubbed Jonathan the wrong way.

The doctor sighed and took off his glasses, making it easier to see his beautiful eyes. This signaled to Joker that something was about to happen. Something interesting. He could hardly wait. Jonathan leaned across the table and stared into Joker's dead eyes.

"I know your game. I know you're type. And you can't scare me with your knowledge of manipulation. It won't work on me. You need to cooperate with me." The fact that he left the common threat out excited Joker. It meant that the crazy doctor actually thought he was in control.

"You certainly know a lot, don't you doctor?"

Crane's pupils contracted. He'd given his warning; he'd been polite, so now it was time to have fun. The Joker seemed to welcome opportunities to rebel, most sociopaths did, so it was in Crane's interest to let him believe he was causing more friction than he actually was; it made the surprise that much more unexpected. Though, that didn't stop Crane from smiling in anticipation of hearing the restrained man in front of him scream.

"Ah, there's that smile again. Up to something are we?"

This time Crane smiled more at Joker's remark. "How about we make a deal then, since you are so assertive." Joker arched his eye brows to show he was listening. "Answer my questions and I will answer yours."

A grin twitched at the corner of Jonathan's mouth as he watched the Joker nod.

"Why did you come to Gotham?" Simple enough. It would be difficult to convolute something as basic as that.

"What a disappointing question, doc. Thought you already knew that one." He paused for a second, relishing the way Crane's hands tightened their grip on each other in annoyance. "I came here because the city has promise."

"Promise? Gotham is crumbling. Petty criminals and idealistic bureaucrats struggle in the wake of the mob."

"Ah, but what about the Batman?"

"He certainly has a way of garnering media attention, but he's nothing more than a disillusioned man in a costume."

"I think you underestimate Batsy. Perhaps that will be your downfall. Or, you could just let your own denial chew you to pieces. Either way, you're not liable to be around much longer, doctor Crane."

That thought seemed to entertain Joker, and he chuckled. Crane was not amused.

"You intend to take my place?"

"And what, climb the latter? No. No, I've got much better plans."

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but you're in a straitjacket, sentenced to confinement in Arkham until I deem you sane enough to be set free. And I'm sure you know that's going to happen."

"Oh and I'm sure you know that that doesn't bother me…one…bit…" he said the last few words slowly, almost spitting.

"Of course not. What would bother you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Why else would I ask that?"

"Seems obvious. But you can't do it doctor. And don't take offense," he said this with such sincerity that Jonathan wanted to laugh, "but you won't get to me. No one has gotten to me before. It's quite impossible."

"Oh it is?" Crane had half a mind to start believing him, but not without solid proof first. And he'd given him enough reason to believe that this patient would only respond to special treatment.

It happened so fast that Joker barely registered what Crane was doing. All he knew was that there was a cloud of some foul tasting gas hovering in his view and that Crane was laughing. Joker decided to laugh too.

"My, you do have a funny laugh doc—"he registered a burlap sack with almost grotesque stitching and small eye holes. "What's this? Is that supposed to scare me?" He laughed harder.

Crane was infuriated. The gas wasn't working. He ripped off his mask and grabbing a fist full of oily green hair, yanked the Joker head back. This just seemed to send him into fits of hysteria.

"Wanna know how I got these scars?" Crane tugged harder, inches away from the man's face. "There was this guy, see, who thought he was smarter than me. Thought he could intimidate me. Tried to get close to me. I tried to tell him all I wanted was to get along. To be friends. But he didn't want that. No. He wanted to control me. I told him "I can't even control myself." But he didn't believe me. So I took a knife, and stuck it in my mouth. He tried to laugh and pretended I was bluffing. It was only when my blood splattered his face did he believe me."

Utterly perplexed, Crane let go. He picked up his mask and briefcase and stormed out of the room. An orderly that came five minutes later had to sedate Joker to get him to his cell; he was laughing too hard.
***

I'm thinking about writing more because I didn't intend for it to end in the cliché "wanna know how I got these scars?" line. Anyway, please let me know what you think!