Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

01

Can't Be Saved

North Atlanta High is just like Gotham High, really. The same cliques wearing the same clothes and the same attitudes. The only real difference was that Atlanta was bright and Sunny, where Gotham was dark and corrupt. I straightened my black top unconsciously. Either way, I wouldn't fit in.

My name is D.G. Cohen, and I'm officially the new girl of North Atlanta High. My newly divorced mother packed us up and moved as far away from Gotham as she could. She moved us from my school, where I was starting my year as the leader of the string quartet and actually had friends. Away from my city, the place I was born and grew up, all because she "couldn't stand to be in the same city, let alone the same state" as my father. What did he do to garner such hatred from his wife of 25 years?

He slept with my teacher. Yeah, that last parent-teacher conference was awkward.

Mom had hired a moving van before the ink on the papers was even dry. Since I am seventeen, I was given the choice what parent to stay with. I love my father, even though he's a cheating prick, but my mother is a little unhinged at the moment so I went with her to Georgia. I knew my father would be okay, he had his girlfriend to keep him company. My mother had no one but me.

I sighed as I made my way through the halls to my locker. I took a drink of my cola and frowned. It was the end of the day and I've been here for two weeks or so, but I still managed to get stares as I walked by. I'm really not that interesting to look at, to be honest. Mid-length auburn hair. Hazel eyes. Pale, freckled skin. I'm not really short, and not really tall. I'm just.. me.

And yet I still felt eyes on my back as I made my way from class to class. I figured the new kid syndrome would have worn off by now, but people still avoided me like the plague. I had no friends yet. The teachers were nice and some of the loner kids were decent, but I'd really only said maybe a few sentences in two weeks. But I was an observer at heart so, at least, I already knew what people to stay away from.

There was Sherry Williams, cheerleader and mean girl clique leader. She was the perfect stereotype, really. Blonde hair, tiny waist line, heavily made up face. She was as nice as she could be to the faculty, but like a viper behind their backs. Her boyfriend, Jacob or Josh something, was captain of the football team and looked like a Greek god. All muscles and smiles. He was also a bully, though not quite to his girlfriend's extent. Sherry went after everyone who didn't match her impossibly high standards.

I had never had the pleasure to meet them personally. I kept my head down and kept to myself for the most part, so I guess I didn't attract their attention.

The crowd in the hallway died down as I was almost to my locker and I heard raised voices that pulled me from my thoughts. I stopped by the corner and looked around it, seeing a group of people standing in a circle in the middle. Directly in front of my freaking locker.

I instantly recognized Sherry and her boytoy. She had her hands on her hips and was looking down at something on the floor while he was leaning over, laughing. I caught a sight of something move and realized that it was someone, not something on the floor.

There was about five people in the circle, a few of Boytoy's (as I decided to rename him since I can't remember his name) goons and the ringleaders. I could distract them or something, but that would definitely put me on the bully map. But my mother always told me to stand up for what you believe in, and I do not believe in bullying. My mind made up, I put my bag on the floor, in case it got ugly. Oh well, here goes nothing.

I walked up behind them, making sure that the lid of my soda was very loose. None of them noticed me till I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, but you are kind of blocking me from my locker." I put on my sweetest smile as the group turned to me.

I got my first look at the figure on the floor and was shocked to see I kind of recognized him. His name was Crane or something. He sat in front of me during Psychology. His normally neat dark hair was mussed and his glasses were shattered on the floor. His nose was swollen and his face, normally gorgeous and some-what feminine, was bruised. His brilliant blue eyes were staring determinedly at the floor, like he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. That was probably a good idea, but I felt anger. I didn't know him, sure, but he was quiet. He was always either studying or reading, and I know he didn't do anything to these idiots. My plans were more concrete now.

I raised my eyes to see the bitch glaring at me, and that only made my smile wider. "What is your problem? Can't you see we're busy?" Her voice was sweet, and it kind of sucked, considering all she did was spew hate.

"Oh yes, I can see that. But you know, bullies suck. And I really don't want to have to deal with a bunch of immature, idiotic and not to mention insecure jerks in front of my locker every day." My sickly sweet smile never left my face.

Sherry was seething while Boytoy just gave me a confused look. "Insecure?"

I groaned and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Really? All of that and that was what slipped in? But yes, insecure. Only self-conscious people bully so that others don't notice their own faults. You know, like the bottle blonde hair or the general bad attitude?"

Sherry stepped forward and almost growled. "You stupid bitch, mind your own fucking business and I won't kick your ugly ass. Just walk away."

I snorted and took a few steps closer, so that I was directly in front of her. "Walk away? Listen, I'm involved now. Stop bullying people that have done nothing to you, and maybe I'll stay out of your business. Besides, don't you have a tanning appointment? Wouldn't want to delay your inevitable skin cancer from develop-"

Sherry lunged at me and I took my chance. I threw my now warm soda in her face, which stopped her mid-pounce. Time seemed to slow down. She gasped, the dark liquid dripping off her face and onto her frilly, pink, and undoubtedly couture blouse. She looked at me in shock, and then looked at her ruined shirt. She reared back and for a second I'm pretty sure she's gonna punch me. However, she bursts into tears and shoves me, racing down the hall. Well, that was anticlimactic.

I move to the side as Boytoy runs after her, his lackey's staying behind and glaring at me. I gesture to where the couple had run off to. "Well, go on then. Your leader probably can't even open the door without you." Knowing looks crossed their faces before they followed, albeit much slower than their friends.

When they were out of sight, I turned to the boy on the floor and wasn't surprised to see him already on his knees, picking up his belongings. I smiled when he looked up, a cold look on his features. "I almost feel bad about doing that." I then noticed a book he had with him, 'The Study of Anxiety and Fear'. Okay, then.

The boy snorted. "Then you shouldn't have. I didn't need your help." Despite that, he winced when he moved to collect what used to be his glasses.

I shrugged. "That's my specialty, helping ungrateful people." He gave a withering look and I crouched down to pick up the frames of his glasses. "I hope these weren't expensive."

He shook his head. "I have insurance on them, but I have to get to the doctor's before Grandmother comes home. She won't be pleased."

I bit my lip. "Is it in Atlanta? If you don't have a car, I can take you. We'd have to walk to my house to get my car, though. It's only a couple blocks away."

He stood and looked at me reluctantly, his guard so far up, I'm pretty sure NASA could see it from the satellite. "Why are you helping me? I don't even know you."

"Well, then." I grabbed his hand, holding it tightly when he tried to pull away. I shook it. "I'm D.G. I just moved here from Gotham and I hate it. My hobbies include playing violin and cello and throwing pop on obnoxious cheerleaders. What's your name?"

The boy's eyes narrowed and for a moment I thought he was analyzing me. But then a corner of his mouth quirked. "Jonathan Crane. I've been here all my life and I hate it. And D.G. isn't a real name." His voice was soft, but held a hard edge to it.

I frowned. "You know, you really shouldn't insult the person who just offered to take you to get your glasses fixed." I handed the broken frames to him and he handled them gingerly. His hands were medium sized, with long fingers that tapered to clean cut nails. I shook my head. "And D.G. is my name, sorry to tell you." I moved to my locker, side stepping the small puddle of soda and broken glass.

I quickly entered my combination and threw my books in. It was Friday and I didn't have homework, since I did it all during study hall. I could feel Jonathan standing awkwardly behind me. "D.G. has to be short for something." It statement, not a question.

"It is." I fished my keys out and shut the locker. "But you'll never find out what it is." I gave him a grin and walked down the hall, leaving him to catch up.

We made it to the apartment in no time. Our apartment was small, two beds and two baths, but it suited my mom and I perfectly. One entire wall that went from the entry into the living room was exposed brick and it had a sort of grungy look to it, not something you usually see out of Gotham or New York. The kitchen had newer appliances and the bedrooms had decent closet space. It wasn't our house, but it was home for now.

I motioned to Jonathan to follow me in and he walked in, but stood awkwardly by the door. I frowned at him. "Come in, I'll give you ice for your nose." Which was starting to look like a beak, but I kept that part to myself.

"I'm fine."

My frown turned into a glare. I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. I pushed him into one of the mismatched chairs and, ignoring his indignant look, pulled an ice pack out of the freezer and wrapped it with a clean dish towel. I held it out to him and smirked when he didn't take it. "If you don't take it, I'll stand here and hold it to your nose for you."

He gave me a horrified look and snatched it out of my hand, carefully touching his swollen face with it.

I heard a crash in the living room followed by a curse and rolled my eyes. We were still unpacking and my mother is extremely clumsy. She moved into the kitchen from the second doorway and stopped dead.

To anyone with the gift of sight, it was easy to tell who I take after. My mother had my same coloring, but she was smaller than me. Where I was average in height and had curves, my mother was short and was built like one of those Olympic gymnasts you see on TV. She raised an eyebrow at me while wiping her face.

"Dahlia, who's this?"

"I knew that D.G. wasn't your real name!" I shot the boy a look that clearly stated I was going to throw him out of one of our fifth floor windows and he gave me a triumphant smirk.

I groaned. "Mom! Really?"

My mother rolled her eyes. "Dahlia Grace, I know you hate your name, but I refuse to call you that awful nickname your father gave you." She focused her gaze on Jonathan. "I'm sorry, Dahlia is being immature. I'm Beatrice Flynn, Dahlia's mother."

To my surprise, Jonathan set down the ice on the table and stood, holding out a pale hand. "Jonathan Crane, ma'am."

When she looked between us and smirked, I knew she instantly had the wrong idea. "Jonathan goes to my school, Mom. His glasses were broken so I told him I'd take him to get them replaced."

"Your daughter is very kind, ma'am. I only just met her today." I couldn't keep the surprised look off my face. Man, he was laying it on thick. "I hope this doesn't inconvenience you."

My mother waved her hands. "Oh, of course not. I'm happy Dahlia has finally made a friend. I was about to give up hope." She turned to me. "Are you taking the Charger?"

"Of course, do you really think I'm gonna take the station wagon?" I grabbed my other set of keys and looked at Jonathan. "You ready?"

He nodded and went to move but my mother stopped us again. "Jonathan, you're welcome to come back after wards and stay for dinner if you'd like."

I looked around his back and gave her a 'what the hell are you doing?' look that she promptly ignored. I only met this kid today, and my mother was inviting him to dinner? He's going to think we're serial killers or something.

Luckily, my new companion saved me. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I have to decline. My grandmother prefers me to be home after school unless I tell her first."

Mom nodded. "Right, well, next time then. We'll plan it so your grandmother knows beforehand."

I tapped my foot, getting impatient. "Alright, see you later, Mom!" I quickly ushered Crane out of the apartment and shut the door, leaning against it. He was watching me with a dark eyebrow raised. I shrugged. "Sorry, my mom gets... excited. Especially since the divorce."

"That's understandable. This must have been a big change for the both of you." He had that edge back in his voice. It was hard to describe, almost like he was holding something back. "Is that why you moved?"

I nodded as we came upon my black 1969 Dodge Charger. She was my baby, she really was. My father got her for me for my sixteenth birthday and, of course, now my mom wants to sell her. Ridiculous.

I moved to go to the driver side when I saw Jonathan still on the sidewalk. I grinned at the look on his face. Men, they're all the same. "Problem?"

He shook his head. "No. Nice car."

I opened the door and climbed in. He gingerly got in, putting his bag in the backseat. I waited for him to put on his seat belt before pulling out into the busy street. "So, since I never answered your question,yeah, the divorce is why we moved. My mother doesn't even want to be on the same continent as my father right now, but plane tickets to Australia are expensive."

"He cheated."

A morose smile appeared on my face. "Yeah. With my teacher. She caught them."

"And you chose to stay with your mom." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I mean, she needs me. My dad has his new girlfriend. Or, not so new girlfriend, I guess. My mom has no one." Jonathan nodded and, taking a look out of the rear-view mirror, I caught sight of that weird book again. I knew I had to ask. "Okay, this is going to sound weird and all, but what's with the book?"

"I read, Dahlia." There it was.

"It's D.G., thanks. And yes, I gathered that. I read, too. Just not 'The Study of Fear' or whatever. Just seems like an odd subject matter is all."

He shrugged and looked out the windshield, his eyes not focused. "Fear is an interesting emotion. Every species feels it, it's one of our base survival instincts. Fear controls almost everything we do." Apparently he caught the 'what the fuck?' look I was giving him because he elaborated. "Take yourself for instance. You moved with your mother half way across the country. Why? You could have chose to stay with your father."

I wasn't following. "Because she needed me. What does fear have anything to do with that?"

"You moved because you are afraid of what will happen to your mother if she's alone. You know that this divorce has hurt her and you fear for her safety."

Shock. "You got that from the whole two hours we've been together?" I had to remind myself to watch the road.

He nodded. "I'm good at it. Your mother moved because she was afraid she would run into your father. Your father cheated because he's afraid of getting older... fear plays a huge part in our subconscious decisions." He swallowed and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. "If we can control fear, we can change the world. Governments use fear to control their citizens, criminals use it to control their victims, parents use it on their children... Imagine what the world would be like if fear was no longer powerful."

I could imagine it and the image it gave me kind of scared me. Time to change the subject. "Those idiots that were bullying you, why didn't you fight back?"

The look on his face, open and honest before, was immediately shut off and cold and he turned to glare at me. Oops. "Pull in on the right."I turned my blinker on and pulled into the parking lot of Douglas Family EyeCare. I pulled into a parking place by the door and blinked when he started gathering his things. He finally looked at me and gave me a curt nod. "Thank you for the ride, Dahlia."

"Hey, I'm sorry if I offended you... I was just trying to get to know you. How are you going to get home?" I really wasn't trying to make him pissed at me, but it was like hitting a switch. No warnings with this guy, apparently.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "I can ride the bus."

I scoffed. "I thought you had to be home before your grandmother? If you try to catch the bus, there's no way that's going to happen."

He scowled but I knew that I had him there. "Alright. I'll be out in a few minutes." He put the bag on the seat and got out, carrying his broken glasses into the store.

Why was I trying so hard to get to know this guy? I could tell he was different. He was smart, there's no doubt about that. He held himself differently than everyone else I had ever met. For a moment I found myself almost happy. I had only known him for a few hours, but I sort of felt myself drawn to him. I don't know if that's good or bad.

I sighed and turned on the radio, immediately perking up when my favorite band comes on. At least Georgia isn't going to be boring.

A/N: Welcome to my first attempt at writing Jonathan Crane! I know he's a little out of character, but he's still a teenager here and hasn't been through a lot yet, so I think he would be a little different. Anyways, I have BIG plans for this story if everything turns out right, it's gonna be a long one! Let me know if you like it, I had a lot of fun writing it.