Chapter 2

First Sight

As fitful sleep again wrapped Angie in a thin, cold embrace, her first meeting with Crane surfaced and replaced the present.

She had waited; ten minutes had passed as she casually inspected her smooth, sharp nails. Her latest manicure remained quite adequate. She sat at a bare metal table in a bright white room, with an uncommunicative orderly standing guard at her door. The doctor was coming, she'd been promised. It was Angie's first day in Arkham, after her admission the night before.

Finally, the heavy door opened, and a slight, pretty man stepped inside. Angie's plan had been to remain blasé, but she froze in that familiar way when she laid her eyes upon him. He was young, with eyes of a startling blue. He looked as light as air, with bones as hollow as a bird. Immediately, she was bonded to him.

"Hello," he said, sitting across from her with a grace rarely seen in a man. "May I call you Angie?"

"That's what I prefer," she answered, enthralled.

"Alright, then. I'm Dr. Crane. I'm here to help you. We'll work together, yes?"

She smiled. "Yes," she said. How could she ever disagree with this man?

In her reverie, she was stunned by his next question.

"Why are you here?" he asked. No pretension; he was jumping right in, it would seem.

"Um," she started. "I was put here…?" It was a question.

The doctor smiled. "Yes," he allowed. "But why?"

"I…okay. I tried to keep a guy for too long."

"How long is too long?"

"Only about three days, surprisingly."

If she hadn't known better, she may have thought he found that funny; Crane looked as if he was trying to suppress a smile.

"I'll be straight with you," he said, "and you can be straight with me, Angie. I'm not terribly concerned with what you did to grab the attention of the people around you this time. Something lead you to this, something taught you how to behave. Tell me, if you know; what made you think that keeping a guy was exactly what you needed to do?"

Now she was at a loss, in shock. Such a serious question for such a pretty little guy; furthermore, she didn't know the answer.

"I…I don't know," she admitted. She wondered why she'd never asked that of herself.

He smiled again; a pleasant effect, calming. "Well, then. We know where to begin."

(snap)

Back in Jane's cold, darkened room, Angie's sleep again deserted her. Awakening, she remembered that session, years ago. Lifetimes, it seemed. Crane's smile had been light, human. So very long ago.

My how things have changed

Back when he'd been a doctor, and not an experimentalist in pain. No, not pain; nothing so clear-cut. He dabbled now in something more ambiguous, something that dug deeper and left no scars; hurt. It was his forte, his area. Apparently, it had also become his undoing.

"Scarecrow," Jane murmured.

Angie started; Jane had been sleeping in a state of unrest since they'd returned from Corridor F. Now she was awake, relatively; staring upward with darkened gray eyes, searching the ceiling for spirits and…scarecrows?

Something nagged at Angie; Scarecrow. This was not the first time she'd heard it. When had that first time been?

"Scarecrow," Angie breathed. Jane's wandering gaze finally settled on her.

"Yes,", Jane said. The most lucid statement she'd made since their return there. "Scarecrow."

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A/N:

So is it going okay? The present-past relationship is clear? It's quite different being inside Angie's head, as she's not so frightened of Crane. Her mind holds secrets, though, some that even she doesn't know. Stay tuned.

- nH