Crane remembered when it happened.
He was relishing in the screams of the inmates, he had gotten used to it over the years, though he wasn't sure whether it had kept him 'sane' or drove him crazy with murderous thoughts.
He had often had fantasies of donning his mask, finding the screaming patients and giving them just a slight scare, one that would shut them up permanently.
Then salvation came, the screaming stopped and footsteps came, cheering came.
Freedom came.
It wasn't the main man, Bane, which had freed Crane himself, but it didn't matter at the time, Jonathan's arms were let loose from the straight jacket binding him, the straps trapping him released.
After eight years in captivity, it felt so good to just stretch. Sure, he got the odd hours out and about but he would never take freedom for granted again.
Running his fingers through his hair he walked out from his cell, down the hall where prisoners were running wild, rioting almost. Guards were running scared, hiding in corners, being thrown from balconies.
It might be a good idea to get out of here.
Crane wished he could get his mask back, that beautiful burlap sack that had fitted him for years, the persona he hid behind, scaring the terrifying world to death.
Literally, sometimes.
Now he was back in the world, Jonathan Crane was feared.
It was wonderful that people knew his face, they hadn't forgotten him after his lapse into crime years ago, a few ignorant kids but he was sure their parents would educate them so.
Crane wondered to the familiar places at first. His office; empty. His apartment; stolen, squatters living off cheap, robbed food. The courthouse, thriving.
Which seemed more than a little strange.
He didn't know what had happened to the judges, well, more, he didn't want to know what had happened, but non-the-less...
He felt like a king sat up high above the people, perched behind the desks and books, which he flicked through when bored.
But, alas, his job was never done, scores of criminals sat before him and asked the same question every time.
"Death, or exile?"
Of course, after hearing the first option, they tend to panic and go straight for the exile.
They were idiots, but he didn't care, he had his job anything outside of the courthouse wasn't his business.
As he told many of the corrupt officials placed before him "This is not a trial, this is a sentencing."
It was the same thing he told the man supposedly in charge.
This...Bane.
Bane was a mystery to him, he was probably a mystery to everyone.
When you put on a mask on, everyone wants to know who you are.
Crane knew that feeling. Oh, he knew it. He used to relish in the feel of the rough canvas on his cheek, although breathing through the gas mask made it a bit uncomfortable, he could live with it just for the chance of feeling whole.
It was early in the morning when he first met the man known as Bane. Crane was getting ready for his kangaroo court, he wrapped a tie around his shoulders and checked himself out in a broken mirror on the wall.
The years in that cell had been kind to him, the 8 years had acted like 4 on his skin. Since being released he had cleaned himself up, got a hair cut, shaved, the usual things people do to feel normal.
As normal as anyone could get in this façade of liberalism. It was in the middle of that thought, that Crane finally met the director of this play.
"I hear you have adopted the courts, Doctor Crane." The voice had startled Crane at first, the calm deep voice, clearly affected by the mask covering a majority of the stranger's face.
"Just as you have taken the city under your wing, Mr. Bane." Crane turned to the intimidating man. Crane's mind was spinning with theories, as to why Bane would feel the need to take over the city.
"Please, just Bane, Doctor Crane. I admire what you have done to the justice system."
"It was already corrupt, as you know." Crane knotted the tie, straightening it slightly, just for appearances, "It just needed a little push." Bane's words implied he stood for blunt justice, maybe that he thought the world was unfair. "And if you don't mind me asking, to what do I owe this honour?"
Bane started a slow walk across the room, "I heard about your effects in court and decided to pay you a visit."
Crane chuckled under his breath, facing the shattered mirror once more, he smoothed down his tie, acting more important than he knew he was. "I do hope, you are not intended to intervene with my court...Bane."
Before he knew what had hit him, Crane was smashed against the mirror, his face pressed against the broken glass, his glasses were uncomfortable against his nose.
"I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot, Doctor Crane." Crane could hear the hissing breath in his ear. "Despite the fact, I let you keep this illusion that you rule the court, I think you will find, I am in charge with everything and everyone here. If it wasn't for me, this city, would have stayed in the shadows of despair. I have illuminated the people's minds." The voice next to his face was still calm, in spite of the seemingly harsh words.
Crane tried to push himself away from the glass and wall but with Bane's full weight leaning on him, it was futile. Crane's blood was rushing around his ears, pulse and breath quickening. He hadn't felt this feeling in an age it seemed. Safe behind bars, then safe up high on desks.
Jonathan Crane was scared.
Crane felt something wet seep down his temple though he wasn't sure whether it was sweat or blood. His senses were in overdrive, he could feel a heartbeat but he didn't know whether it was his own or Bane's.
"Are you afraid, Doctor Crane?" Crane's breaths were now shudders against the mirror, it was fogging up, as well as part of his glasses.
"I've heard about you before, Doctor Crane."
Crane's breathing halted. "Nothing too bad, I hope." he muttered, trying to keep calm.
"I've heard, you were once a bringer of fear. A sadistic man, who terrorized minds." There was a pause in the accusing voice. "I heard, you too, wore a mask."
Crane, sighed with relief at the thought of his mask. "We are alike, you and I." before he could blink again, Crane was pulled away from the wall and smashed straight back into it again, this time facing Bane, the expressive brown eyes boring into his own. Crane's eyes flickered across the man, Bane's eyebrows were furrowed, the veins in his burly arms bulged from the tense muscles. Bane was strong and Crane knew this, partially with the aura the man gave off, but mostly with the fact that Crane was lifted easily, like a rag doll to the bulk of muscle in front of him.
Crane's glasses tumbled to the ground, making his wide eyes seem more vulnerable.
"We are not alike, Doctor Crane." Jonathan could almost hear the rage in the destroyer's voice. "We are polar opposites, both mentally and physically."
"The mask..." whispered Crane, one of his hands coming up to Bane's face. The mercenary didn't even blink when Crane's fingers traced the edges of his mask. "We're the same." he added weakly. Soft hands caressed the cold aching metal. How long had Bane been burdened with the unforgiving apparatus?
"Doctor Crane," Bane started softer than before, "The reason we wear our masks, is completely different." Bane was staring at vacant blue eyes as a hand still stroked the metal on his face. "I wear mine for necessity, if I did not, I would
succumb to excruciating pain."
There was a flicker of recognition in Crane's eyes, pain was something he understood, experiencing and inflicting.
"You, Doctor Crane, wear yours because you need it. You need it to keep you whole." Bane was not threatening any more, he was gazing at Crane.
Jonathan thought it was strange seeing Bane talk without actually seeing his mouth move like a normal person's. But then again, Bane was not a normal man, most of his communication was done with his eyes.
"We..." Crane murmured quietly, licking his lips nervously, "We...are broken."
With hardly a sound, Bane lowered Crane to the ground.
"Perhaps one day, we can be fixed, Doctor Crane, one day, I will find your mask."
Crane was resorting himself out, smoothing down his shirt, readjusting his tie, glancing around for his glasses on the floor. Bane took pity on him, bending to reach for the discarded spectacles.
"Until then," Bane held out the glasses as a peace-offering, "You can keep your court of injustice and fools."
"Thank you." Jonathan slide the glasses up, back onto his face, "And...Thank you."
"You're welcome, Doctor Crane." Bane made his way to the exit, before he turned the corner he added one last comment. "Just remember, you're smarter than the rest of them."
"What makes you say that?" Crane called after him, he should have just taken the compliment and left it at that but something made him want to call it.
"Because you're just like me, Scarecrow."
Jonathan Crane sat, looking down at the pitiful people of Gotham, those who had called upon him to serve them, as a ruler of justice.
The next poor sap was forced into the ornate chair before him.
He stared at them over the rim of his glasses.
"Death, or Exile?"
So...Hi there, this is my first Batman fanfic but apart from that, I've not written a fanfic in aaaaaggeees.
So I literally have seen The Dark Knight Rises in the last 24 hours, I thought it was a bit strange that Bane just let Crane do his own thing in the court so I decided to do a little thing on it. Just wanna say, Crane is my favourite character and Cillian Murphy is my favourite actor, should have heard the noise I made when he came on screen xD
And I also realised that writing for Bane and Crane was a lot harder than writing other fanfiction, maybe I've just lost my touch a bit. If anyone sees any glaring mistakes I may have missed :/
Any well, may come back to this at some point but review if you like, review if you didn't.
Til next time, chu~