A/N: Hey, sup, everybody? Now, before you read, I'd just like to note that this a bit of an experiment. Due to recent viewings of BB, I've found myself immensely captivated by Dr. Jonathan Crane, aka. Scarecrow. Not only with his gorgeous looks alone, but also with his character. So, with this in mind, I wanted to create a fic about him.

Now, I'm new to the whole 'Batman' thing, and have only ever watched the movies and some of the animated series, but no comics. Ever. So, if I screw anything up with Scarecrow and his background, please forgive me! I'm basing him off of the BB version, and not the cartoon, or comics, so I sort of made up a lot of junk, such as his homelife as a teenager. However, I will try my best to keep everything in order as much as I possibly can, okay?

I absolutely ADORE reviews! Whether they be just one-worded, completely positive, or kind constructive criticism, but I canNOT tolerate flamers! They are useless and discouraging. Miserable people who have no lives usually write these. So, please, don't be one of these cold-hearted people.

Disclaimer: I don't own Scarecrow, Batman, or anything else related to that universe. Except for my OCs of course, heh.

Chapter 1

---

He should have known his mother was having over a guest. She should have told him. Otherwise, he would have surely went through the back door. But he didn't. Frustrated, angry, defeated, he stomped up the front porch steps, not noticing the unfamiliar green Toyota parked in the driveway, and yanked the door open. Before he could even think of stopping himself, he had walked right in on his mother and her guest. They were sitting at the kitchen table, which was visible from the front door, drinking coffee. The guest, a large woman, had her back to him. His mother, who was facing him, frowned, and the woman turned to look. He realized then that there was also a girl with them, around his own age by what he could tell. She looked at him, hazel eyes open and curious. She was very pretty. Then it hit him. She was the same girl from earlier that day. That new girl, who had accidentally knocked into him in the hallway at school.

"Jonathan, what on earth happened?"

The young boy gulped, tearing his eyes away from the girl's to look at his concerned mother. He briefly glanced down at himself, suddenly embarrassed by his horrid appearance. His blue and white striped shirt was torn in three places, revealing bruised and battered skin, his jeans scuffed, bottom lip swollen and bleeding, his oversized spectacles askew.

"Um, I, I tripped…"

He knew it was a terribly lame explanation, but he wasn't about to recount his perilous journey home from school in front of some attractive girl.

"You tripped?" his mother's brow rose with skepticism.

Jonathan nodded. "Yes."

He wished the other two, particularly the younger one, would stop gawking at him, as if he were some sort of exotic creature.

Sighing, his mother broke the awkward silence with an introduction.

"Tina, Cassie, this is my son, Jonathan. Jonathan, this is Tina, an old friend of mine, and her daughter, Cassie."

"How are you, Jonathan?" Tina, the large woman, smiled kindly at the boy.

"Fine, thank you." he shifted to lean on his right foot, feeling more and more uncomfortable.

"Hi." the girl, Cassie, gave him a timid wave of her fingers, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Jonathan locked eyes with her, biting his lip. Without responding, he kicked off his sneakers, dropped his backpack, and made for the stairs around the corner as fast as he could. Reaching the stairs, the boy climbed two steps then halted, panting. It figured that his mother was friends with her mother. What were they doing in his house, anyway? Inhaling and exhaling, he perked up his ears to listen to what they would say about him. He knew it would be nothing good. It never was.

"I'm sorry about that, Cassie. He's, um, well, he's shy." he heard his mother say.

"It's okay."

"Is he alright, Sarah? He looked terrible!"

"He's looked worse, Tina, believe me."

"Bullies?"

There was a pause, and then his mother answered in a quiet voice.

"Yes."

"Why don't you report them to the principal? I know if Cassie was coming home looking like that, I'd be all over those people and parents!"

"I've tried. They said they'll help him, but so far, it's only gotten worse. A week ago he came home with a broken nose-"

That was it. He'd had enough. With a sigh, he continued up the stairs to his bedroom. It was amazing how mothers could find such dull subjects so engaging. So he got a little beat up? So what? He wasn't the only one. There were plenty of other kids at his school who got worse things done to them than he. As he made his way down the hallway, he saw that the door to his bedroom was ajar. His mother must have done some scouting while he was gone; a futile activity, as he always kept it neat and tidy.

Entering his room, Jonathan yanked off his ruined clothes, and threw them to the floor. He then left out of his room, grabbed a towel, and headed for the bathroom. Closing and locking the door behind him, the boy turned on the faucet for the shower. He shut the curtain, so as not to let any water escape onto the white, tiled floor, then set his towel and washcloth down on the sink. Lifting his head, he was caught by piercing blue eyes in the mirror over the sink. He straightened and took off his glasses, as did the lanky, dark-haired boy in the mirror. Staring back at his reflection, Jonathan grew rather irritated. Why was it that people condemned those who may not be the most appealing, but worshiped the ones that were beautiful? He had more brains than the whole student body put together, and yet, he was treated like dirt. Something was drastically wrong with that picture. Shouldn't he be praised? After all, he doubted that Harry Banner or any of the other players on the football team were going to be a doctor or senator one day.

He folded and set his glasses on a dry hand towel laid out over the sink, then stepped into the inviting, warm shower. Exhaling, he let the water roll over him, washing away all of the grime and blood he'd received from his unfriendly encounter with the boys at school. He hated being dirty. Cleanliness made him feel better. More confident. When he was dirty, he was reminded of just how little power he held in his hands. He couldn't stop those boys from attacking him. Not only was he physically incapable of taking down any of them, but he was only one person against six. It bothered him, angered him, knowing that even though he had all of this knowledge and brains, Harry just needed a fist to make people respect him.


It was an hour or two later, whilst absorbed in the pages of his copy of The Catcher in the Rye, that a light knock sounded on his bedroom door. Jonathan looked up.

"Jonathan?" came his mother's muffled voice from the other side.

"Come in." he called.

The door creaked open, and Sarah walked in. Spotting the book in his hands, her smile faltered. Even though she had swiftly recovered, Jonathan had seen the flicker of disappointment come over her face. His mother often pestered him, sometimes begging him to take a break and go outside. However, he could care less about taking a break. In fact, this to him was a break. A break from the world, and all of its fools. This was his time to relax and just be himself without being persecuted for it.

"Reading, huh?" she came and sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Mhm." he wasn't looking at her, but rather the interior of his book.

Silence settled between them. Sarah, watching her only son and child sitting there all alone, with nothing but a novel as his companion, began to feel truly sorry for him. How she wished he had more friends to spend time with. He needed it.

Ever since his father had died, he'd become terribly distant and disengaged from everyone, including her.

She let her eyes fall from him to her lap, sighing.

"So, those boys harassed you again?"

Out of her peripheral vision she could see his stoic features momentarily give way to what appeared as discomfort, or something of the like. She knew he hated talking about this, but she had to. It was her duty as the mother.

When he didn't respond, she persisted.

"Jonathan?"

"Yes." he murmured, raising his book higher to shield his face from her.

"Mmm." she furrowed her brow. "I'm going to have to talk with your principal tomorrow. This is getting ridiculous. You should never have to go through this. Ever."

She glanced over at him, slightly annoyed that he was still hiding behind that book. He had shut her out now. The conversation was not complying with his taste. So she would just have to change the topic at hand to one of more… interest to him.

"You know, my friend Tina's daughter will be staying with us for a few weeks or so."

He lowered his book, and frowned at her, incredulous. Sarah smiled inwardly, rejoicing in the fact that she'd got a reaction out of him.

"Why?"

"Because, Tina is going away on a business trip for that time, and she has no one else to look over her." she explained simply.

"She can't take care of herself?" he looked shocked.

"Well, I'm sure she can, but, Tina just wants to make sure she's safe. She is a mother after all, Jonathan."

"Why does she have to stay with us?"

"I already told you, she has no one else. Besides, she's new to Elmwood. It'll give you a chance to maybe… Become acquainted."

"You mean she seriously has no other living relatives left in the world?" he arched an eyebrow with an air of skepticism, deflecting the last bit of her sentence, closing and laying his book down on the bed beside him.

"Well, yes, Jonathan, but they are all out of state."

"And Tina can't drop her off with one of them?"

"No, Jonathan."

"Why?" he repeated dully.

Sarah had had it. She stood from the bed, and turned on him.

"Stop it, Jonathan! You know as well as I do that she can't miss nearly a month of school! Especially since she just started there. She's staying with us, and that is final."

Having said her peace, she pivoted and stomped out of the room, shutting the door behind her with a snap. Jonathan stared at the spot she'd been sitting a moment before, still trying to process the news she had delivered. That girl, that, that pretty red-haired girl was going to be staying here? With him?

Wonderful. Just what he needed. Some newbie prep to prance around him. It would be like taking school home with him. The worst part of school besides the jocks, mind. To top it all off, his mother wanted him to become friends with her. He would not have been surprised if she had planned out the whole thing just for that prospect alone.

Well, she was in for a surprise, because he was most certainly not going to be friends with her. No way.

Huffing, Jonathan picked up his book and set it atop his bedside table, along with his glasses, then reached to turn out the light. He gave his pillow two punches before settling into them with a tired sigh. Gradually, his eyelids began to fall, darkening his vision as sleep took over. Within a few seconds, he was lost in slumber.