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There was a place in Gotham city, tucked and shield away from the noise of accelerating vehicles, screams of molested victims and such. It was near e decrepit dam, built when the city was first constructed. This sacred place resembled a dystopian lake surrounded by buildings abounded before ever being finished. Regardless of how grim this description may sound the serenity of the place with its green trees and soft grass held uncorrupted innocence, which was such a rarity for this city. Jonathan Carne enjoyed visiting this place when everything inside his head and the real world got too much. Sitting by the pristine water he could allow himself a moment of undisturbed privacy and the luxury to push the stress in the darkest corner of his mind.
He hadn't had the opportunity to go to his save heaven for a while now and so in the beginning of the winter he found himself walking down a familiar path. The cold air bit his skin like frosty kisses, making his cheeks and nose rosy. Jonathan's eyes traveled up from the pebbles on the sidewalk and calmly set on the surface of lake to his right. He was tired. Another restless night that had left him with only an hour worth of sleep combined with one more failure to take his formula to the next step was finally enough to push him into seeking release. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, forming a puffy cloud in front of his face. The fact that Jonathan's hallucinations were becoming a regular occurrence did nothing to ease his strained nerves. He observed that these tricks of the mind tended to take place closer to bed time. Almost as if his own brain had taken on its own accord to slowly make him go insane…that or rather the Scarecrow.
Jonathan decided not to dwell on that at the current moment and lazily seated himself on the stony bench next to the mirror like water. Pulling his coat more securely around himself, Jonathan decided that while mentally resting he could as well feed his starving stomach some food, before he had to dive back in the frantic frenzy that was his life. Bending to pick up his suitcase, a movement to his left caught Jonathan's attention and he stiffened. As far as he knew this place was deserted and in all his years, had never met or saw another human being here. Not that he felt insecure, but one of the main reasons he had made this lake his safe-haven was that he could enjoy some alone time. Sharply turning around he met with a scene that made his eyebrows rise higher than ever.
Approximately fifty meters from where he sat, across the lake a young girl no older than six was hanging loosely on a thin branch right above the water. It would be a lie if he said he felt concern for the child's well being. Or perhaps everything remotely similar to this was smothered beneath the intrigue that took hold of him. A child of such fragile age usually meant that there was a parent nearby. Or so he assumed. On a second more focused look even from such distance it was visible that the girl was dressed in mauled dirty clothes? Homeless? That would explain why she was alone and the atrocious state of her outer appearance. Jonathan stared at the dangling girl, slowly losing interest. In Gotham, homeless and people on the very edge of becoming such were two-thirds of the population. It was a common sight, so averted his eyes from the child.
Jonathan retrieved his sandwich from the case and contently began munching on it all the while staring at the fluffy clouds thinking about nothing in particular. However, not that he would admit it aloud, the young girl still tugged at his mind. He tried his best to ignore the urge to look again couldn't be overcome as a resounding splash broke the silence. Jonathan immediately turned in direction of the disturbing sound. The usually smooth, satin like surface of the lake was now destroyed from the intrusive ripples tearing at it. A bouquet of air bubbles emerged from the depths of the water signaling the struggling of the child. A pang of pity run through Jonathan, but only for a moment. Though, distant and standoffish he still was a human being and as such certain emotions came naturally and annoying as they might be at moments they simply couldn't be repressed. Moments when he had allowed himself to relax.
Interested of how the situation was going to unroll Jonathan unconsciously held his breath with excitement among other feelings shimmering dully somewhere in the far end of his consciousness. In the spam of one blink, the fallen child broke through the water. Gasping and violently splashing with short unskillful arms, desperate to survive. Jonathan was amused. The will to survive was not only human, but innate to every living creature and yet it was a remarkable sight to witness someone so young and fragile to fight with every bit she was worth for the chance…to breathe. It was pure and innocent. Jonathan couldn't see all the emotions, fears written, engraved on that small face, but he did wonder in a moment such as this one, did this helpless child felt fear, or the adrenalin rush thundering in her ears was too overwhelming to care for fear. Did the painful desire to live crush whatever horror that might otherwise be clenching her young inexperienced heart?
He dropped the sandwich carelessly on the bench and stood up. Light shadows obscuring his features making his liquid clear eyes stand out even more. His full lips were parted in slight awe as he observed from the perspective of science man. The child oblivious to her spectator kept pushing through the water and finally after what seemed like a life time to the exhausted youngster, she reached the muddy shore. Throwing her soaking body on the solid ground the child let out a shaky whimper. Jonathan could imagine the physical drain she most surely is or will be experiencing, not to mention the mental state of her mind. Such frightful experience would most surely leave scars. What was even more spectacular was that Jonathan might as well have observed the creation of a phobia, naturally invoked without the intervention of any chemicals. This realization made him dizzy with joy. He could even feel several ideas regarding his formula, shape in his head. It was an inspiring moment he had witnessed. What luck indeed.
Surprisingly, though, the child managed to catch his attention again, by shakily trying to force her skinny, definitely underweighted body on her wobbly legs. The thing to strike him was the wet fur ball she had extracted from beneath her ripped shirt. The disfigured object moved and seconds later a piercing mewls echoed in the silence. A cat? Could the child have been saving a cat? A frown settled between his elegant brows as he sorted through the deductions he had made, quickly doing the calculations. In the end he concluded that the small girl had in fact been trying to save a cat and in the end almost drowned both the animal and herself. Why risk her life for a stray animal, when dozens of cats roamed the streets of Gotham? What difference would it be if one cat died or lived? His logical brain couldn't comprehend the motive of the infant girl and Jonathan found himself frustrated, as he was not so well educated on child psychology. He did not tolerate the lack of knowledge and most certainly did not appreciate the inconvenience of his own ignorance. That was something Jonathan would change as soon as he had the chance. Although his not so intimate knowledge of child behavior he knew enough to shudder from the sweetness of the possibilities a young flexible, still untainted could present him with. If his presumption about the child's age she was in the stage of only just becoming aware of life and her surrounding in more understandable, naïve way.
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he felt cold wetness seep through his shoes. Glancing down Jonathan saw that while being focused and transfixed on the young girl, he had unconsciously taken steps forward thus ending up stepping in the shallow part of the lake. A loud curse escaped from his lips and gave away his presence to now shivering youngster. Her head snapped in direction of the irritated voice and wide green and shocking wild eyes locked with those of Jonathan. The child unsteadily took a couple of steps back, clutching the mewling kitten to her chest. Jonathan felt a rush of thrill course through his system a surge of pure anticipation and strangely satisfaction.
Their gazes hooked on one another were intense; the child was trembling like a leaf, her teeth probably chattering from the freezing temperature and the wet clothes sticking to her thin skin. Green and blue clashed together, calmness met with agitation, mutual interested traveled between them on the bridge of their held stares. Jonathan was not the type to like children, hell he despised them, for they were irrational, nosy, too loud and annoying, but the oddity of this homeless girl captured him. Quickly as their gazes had connected, the child glanced down to his left and creasing his brows in confusion he followed the direction of her eyes. The sandwich. Of course she was hungry. Jonathan looked at the girl yet again and slowly tucked his hand in the pocket of his coat. A flash of fear illuminated the green pools fifty meters from him and he stopped. The child was frightened from what he could hide in his coat. The wheels in his mind analyzed her reaction as he resumed with extracting a small chocolate bar.
Shock and longing swirled in her eyes. Jonathan left the chocolate next to the sandwich. Her body language screamed distrust as she eyed Jonathan. Something snapped behind him and he turned to see a crow pecking a stick, annoyed at his own jumpiness, the young psychiatrist refocused his attention back on the girl, or rather where she used to be. The child had vanished, but Jonathan knew better than to think she was far off. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth and with a sigh straightened his posture and headed back to the asylum in considerable better mood. He would be returning to this place, very soon.
A/N: This story is an experiment. With the character of Doctor Crane, the readers and me. I am fascinated by the fact that people often are attracted by fictional criminals with mental issues. These types of characters are always narcissistic and take pride in their creations. Remarkable so they are drawn to things which they can influence and remodel. A young child is an opportunity to store one's legacy in a living object that can proceed forward from where the 'teacher' had left. Vertigowill be divided in two parts it will touch a lot of psychological subjects and strive to explore the character of Jonathan Crane. I will point out that English is only my second language so if you feel offended by any grammar or spelling mistake please feel free to constructively criticize me. I hope you stay for the ride and please review as it is the best prize for any author.