The Space Between

The Space Between

Chapter Two: Stranger in a Strange City

They warned her not to stay in the Narrows and now Amy knew why. Her logic had been sound at the moment, thinking if her brother were on the run, it would be foolish for him to show himself in normal society, but logic didn't drown out the sounds of poverty and crime outside her window. She had tried shutting the window and went to turn on the AC unit only to have it spit out dust and a wretched odor she rather not know the origins. So she turned off the AC and opened window again, where any crook, thief or worse in the Narrows could gain access to her room by the rickety fire escape. Oddly enough, it didn't exactly frightened her, it just put her on the defensive.

The jet lag tugged at her eyes but concern and worry kept them open. Her night was spent staring at the open window and glancing down at her cell phone. It had been close to twelve hours since the news conference and still he hadn't called her. Despite the police's hopes that he would call their hotline, Amy knew he would completely by pass the authorities and contact her directly. She still hadn't decided whether or not she was going to tell the police when he did. The things that bonded them together transcended laws and moral responsibilities. It was the law that had failed them in the first place.

Something creaked in the ceiling above her and she jumped to her feet. She asked for a room at the upper most floor because it gave access to the roof. Tucking the cell phone into her pocket, she climbed out the window and started up the fire escape. She hadn't taken two steps up the rusted metal when she hit something with enough force to knock her back, sprawled out on the landing outside of her room. A pain shot up her right arm and she realized she had tried to break her fall with her hand. Judging from the throbbing that went from her wrist to her elbow, she either sprained or broke her wrist.

Hissing through her teeth, Amy went to stand up when the shadow came over her. It gave her such a start she kicked her foot in defense only to have it connect with the same type of equally hard surface. The shockwaves of the kick reverberated up her legs as she tried to push herself into the corner of the landing. Her mace was safely inside the hotel room and she didn't bring her gun with her for this trip; too much paperwork to be able to take it on the plane.

"Stop."

Amy was never one to listen to a command even if it came from someone she knew and respected but there was something in the strange, rough voice that made her pause in her hasty retreat. "Why?"

"I came to talk," the voice came again.

She still couldn't make out a form in the darkness. "So far all you've done is knock me down." There was nothing but silence. Amy rolled her eyes, wanting nothing more that to put some ice on her wrist. "So talk already."

There was a loud crack that echoed down the alleyway and an emergency ice pack dropped on the landing next to her. Gingerly, she picked up and laid it on top of the hurting wrist. "Thanks."

"You said you're here looking for brother, Jonathan Crane."

"Is that a question or a statement?" She couldn't be certain but she thought she heard a huff of indignation.

"He hasn't contacted you yet?"

Amy slumped back wedging herself between the railing and the brick wall. "No. So who are you, a cop?"

"I'm not a cop."

"What a minute," something fuzzy was coming into focus in her mind. "You're that vigilante that Lieutenant Gordon was telling me about. The Batman."

"Crane was caught tonight selling his fear toxin to the Russian mob. He's on his way back to Arkham Asylum. I don't think Arkham allows phone calls. It would be in your best interest to turn around and go back to whatever life you left and continue on as though nothing has happened."

Amy let out a sharp laugh. "Spoken like a person who has no siblings." She pushed herself up the wall until she was standing. "You don't understand my brother the way I do so your interpretation of the situation is understandable. If I can just talk to him-"

"It won't be possible. The man he's turned into is not the man you remember."

"How do you know that? You know nothing about me or my brother."

He finally stepped into the dim light from the flickering street lamp and she was thankful the wall was already halfway holding her up. He was huge, having almost a foot on her, and dressed from head to toe in black. The only visible part of his face was his mouth, which set in a tight line and his eyes were just angry glints in the scant light.

"You are Dr. Amy Nell Crane. You have your under grad degree in child psychology, masters and doctorate in abnormal child psychology. You work as a guardian ad lietum for the San Diego area. You and your brother attended the same college for all your education and only separated when he came to Gotham."

She should have been frightened by him, her mind told her that but she couldn't summon up an ounce of fear for the masked man in front her. His rattling off her education and job made her life sound so very hollow, not at all as dangerous and frightening as it had been. He knew what was on public record for her and Jon, but that was all. There was so much more than that to the both of them. It made the desire to find her brother stronger.

"Like I said," she moved towards the window of her room, "You don't know anything about me or my brother."

"I know enough."

Amy sighed wearily, the throbbing getting worse and causing her to break out in a sweat, chilling her in the night air. "If you're not familiar with Freud's depiction of a person's ego, let me tell you. He describes it as an iceberg. What the world sees, what you are conscious of, is just the tip while only the person themselves knows, sometimes, what lies under the surface. Jon is my twin, my other half. We know what lies underneath the face that we show the world because we're connected in a way no one else could possibly understand. So, go off and do whatever a Batman does. If you want to help, you'll pull some bat-strings and get me in to speak with my brother."

"No."

"Then I'll get in myself. So add that to your list of 'What I know about Amy and Jon Crane,' we do not quit and we do not abandon each other." Amy's time spent with hurting children kicked her sympathetic emotions into gear. "Surely even you have someone you feel that way about, don't you? If not, why are doing what you are if not to protect someone you love."

"It's the right thing to do."

"It comes from caring about someone or something."

"It's duty."

"It's love."

He regarded her briefly, started to say something before deciding against it and smoothly allowed himself to be swallowed up into the shadows. Jon and her used to have late night discussions on what was the emotion that drove people to do what they do. Her belief was it all boiled down to love: sacrificial and selfish motivation, both. He always believed it was an innate fear that sometimes even the person themselves didn't understand. She had come to Gotham in hopes of finding and helping him. Surely that was love motivated, wasn't it? Or was she afraid of what would happen to him in that Asylum? Perhaps, they both had been correct in their own way. Maybe love and fear went hand in hand when it came to motivation.


"Everything go alright, sir?"

Bruce only grunted his repsonse to Alfred, his mind too preoccupied at the moment for a clear response.

"I see," Alfred responded as he looked over the kevlar suit. "No bullet nicks, I take it the night was quiet. The news channels are already reporting that the Batman nabbed the Scarecrow."

And that was what was bothering him. Sitting down at the master computer, he flipped through various newsclips that had been played that day and stopped on the one where Amy Crane had made her plea to the public and her brother. He had been surprised by her and her attitude towards him. Even after she had fallen and hurt her wrist (perhaps Bruce Wayne could run into her tomorrow and find out the outcome of her injury) she remained calm and almost unnaturally cool. He flipped through a couple of other videos and stopped on a not so recent one of Crane's deposition for one of many Falcone thugs.

The blue eyes were the same shade, shape and behind similar glasses but there was a huge difference: Jonathan's were cold, calculating and Amy's were warm with concern. The facial structure was uncannily the same, it was just the looks on their faces that made them appear so very different. Amy looked like a person who would work with children and Jonathan looked like someone who would work with the criminally insane.

"Having doubts about capturing Dr. Crane so quickly?"

Was that what was bothering him? "I didn't really have a choice, Alfred. I wasn't even looking for him tonight."

"Reguardless, you sent someone's brother to a place where she can't reach him now. I am fairly certain that will not sit well with you."

"I saw her tonight."

"Miss Crane?"

Bruce smiled ruefully. "It's Dr. Crane, actually."

"Oh wonderful, another one."

"But yes, I dropped in to see her. I told her to go back home and get on with her life."

"Spoken like a man with no siblings."

Bruce finally tore his gaze away the monitors. "That's exactly what she said."

Alfred gave him that "I told you so" smile of his. "I like her already."

"You would," Bruce answered, turning back to the computer screen. Something was nagging at him, something that refused to be pushed to the back of his mind and forgotten. Thankfully, the answer would come with the morning paper.


Amy had taken what the hotel desk clerk had called the "Wayne Train" to a much better part of the city. She had called Arkham and they had confirmed her brother was in their custody but that was all. She didn't know his condition, mental or physical. She highly doubted the Batman would have stopped and asked him "And how are you feeling tonight, Dr. Crane?" She had plenty of time to devise a plan on her trip to the upscale part of Gotham though and soon she should have her answer.

When she finally disembarked, it didn't take her two blocks to find what she needed. A BMW dealership, closed down for the night, was directly across the empty street from her. She calmly walked over to the show room where a brand new BMW X-6 was gleaming under the dimmed lights.

"Pretty, ain't it?"

She turned to see a young man in jogging clothes standing next to her. She hadn't even heard him come up to her. The set up couldn't have been more perfect: a witness. She reached into her bag and pulled out a brick she had pried from the wall of the dilapated hotel she was staying in. Thankfully, it was her left wrist that was useless at the moment and she was a right handed person.

"I think I'll take a closer look," she said as sedately as she could despite the nervousness that was building inside of her. With a swift prayer that this would really work, she threw the brick with all her might and was satisfied when the showcase glass shattered into a million pieces. The alarm went off but she acted as if she couldn't hear it as she stepped into the dealership and stared at the car. With the witness-joggers statement, she should find herself on her way to Arkham before rush hour hit the city. She had told the Batman if he wouldn't help her make contact with Jon then she would do it her own way.