A/N: Hello and welcome to my second ever published fic! Here's a brief little introduction. I'm pretty nervous about posting, though my Silent Hill fic got a few positive reviews. I really, really hope to get some positive feedback on this. Ok. So, this is set while Jonathan Crane is the administrator of Arkham, but before he was in league with Ra's al Ghul. I really wanted to kind of explore the relationship between Jonathan and his less polite half, Scarecrow. (Because, to me, they're two halves of a whole.) This is the first of a few ideas I had about them, so I think it'll end up being a series of one-shots. Not sure if they'll be posted separately or together yet. And I think that's about it. Read and review, please? Thank you!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Jonathan was going insane.
He was at least half-convinced as he stared at the paperwork on his desk. He could feel hands gently resting on his shoulders, though he knew without looking that no one was there. He could hear soft breathing in his ear. There was no one there.
"No one is here." He said, very softly, speaking aloud for the first time in hours. And to his horror, (but not really to his surprise) a voice responded.
Oh really? I'm no one now, huh?
The voice was light, teasing. Jonathan wanted to cry. He really was losing his mind. Maybe it was stress. Being Administrator at Arkham Asylum (a stressful workplace if there ever was one) was not an easy task. But still, he'd thought, up to this point that he'd been doing pretty well. Maybe it was lack of sleep. It had been three- no, four- days now without much more than an hour of sleep between them. The catnaps, though supposedly beneficial, were killing him. They never seemed to make him less tired and they made time jump strangely. It was probably a combination of the two. Maybe he should go home early. The voice scoffed.
Yeah right. Mr. Workaholic is going to go home and sleep? Not. Likely.
"Well, what am I supposed to do about you? I'm not even sure what you are!" He clapped a hand over his mouth. He had spoken much louder than he had intended. "God damn it." He moaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm really, truly losing it."
Relax, Jonathan, the voice advised him. You're not crazy. I'm just tired of being quiet. There, there.
The sensation of hands on his shoulders was more vivid than ever, as though someone was gently squeezing. The voice still had that teasing ring. Jonathan would've liked to throw something at it, provided that it existed anywhere but in his head.
I object to being an 'it'. I'm as male as you are, if not more so. The voice snickered.
"You are a voice. Without body, therefore without gender."
Whatever you say, honey.
"Do not call me honey!" Jonathan hissed, so quietly he could scarcely hear himself. There was a moment of silence.
…Would you prefer darling?
"I would prefer you to be quiet!"
The voice was silent. Jonathan sighed with relief. That relief was erased when he felt one of the hands move from his shoulder to his hair. Thin fingers twirled a few pieces.
"Stop that!"
I'm being quiet, though! Isn't that what you wanted?
"I didn't want to be molested by a voice!"
I do have a name, you know.
"Oh, really? And what would that be?" Jonathan's voice was scathing, though muted.
You know it already. You're the one who gave it to me in the first place. Think hard now.
"What are you talking about? You didn't exist until yesterday! When would I have named you? Why would I have named you? You don't even exist outside of my mind!"
Ouch. Hate to break it to you, but I'm not really all that new. I've been around in some form or another as far back as you can remember. Think about it.
So Jonathan thought about it. The voice did sound awfully familiar, like an old friend he hadn't spoken to in years. The more he thought, the more he began to realize…
"Scarecrow?" he whispered, hardly daring to believe that this was the not-so-imaginary friend of his childhood.
There you go. Hel-lo, Jonathan. Took you long enough.
And he did remember, now that he thought about it. Scarecrow had never really left him. He had simply gotten quiet, sometimes silent, sometimes a little running commentary in the background, but never truly gone.
"I can't believe I forgot about you."
Yeah. Tell me about it. For a while there, I thought I'd disappear altogether. But, luckily for you, I'm still here.
"Lucky for me." Jonathan replied flatly.
Scarecrow snickered.
Oh, we're going to get along just great.
A/N: Yes, it's very short. Maybe the next one will be longer? So, here's something I forgot to mention. No, Scarecrow cannot literally touch Jonathan. He doesn't have a body, and at this point, I don't think he can take over Jonathan's. In the timeline I imagine, that doesn't happen until after they get gassed in Batman Begins. Scarecrow can create the sensation of being touched. (Not sure how, but…they're comic book/ movie characters, so does it matter?) The whole hair-twirling thing was just Jonathan's imagination coupled with Scarecrow's influence. His hair never actually moved, it just felt that way. (Hopefully this all makes sense!) Thoughts, Comments, Questions, and Criticism, are all welcome!