Disclaimer: I own no Batman characters.

A/N: So, I was talking to my psychologist today and he asked what I wanted to do for a fall back career just incase I didn't make it to Hollywood, and I said when I saw Crane in Batman Begins I wanted to be a psychopharmacologist like him and help people. And he said 'Well, Jonathan Crane isn't the best example, now is he?'

I glared at him and said 'Would you like to see my mask?' .... Just kidding! But I did glare at him, Johnny is a great guy, my therapist has some issues he needs to work out... *roles eyes*

Anyway, I finally got around to watching that show called 'Nurse Jackie', it was good, but I like my Nurse Jackie better. :D

I really tried to be in character for this one! *Head meets desk* Crap.

Narrative Song: Failure 1977 by Spleen United. Don't own, either.

Enjoy :D

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After Crane's first lunch he had realized that things were different. He didn't own the asylum anymore, the only way he'd survive his stay here was if he continued to give the Joker his body, and this was real. This wasn't one of his night terrors, or a bad trip on his toxin, this was his life for the next three years.

That night Crane sat up in his bed, sleep unfortunately not claiming him as fast as he would have liked. He looked over at the Jokers sleeping form. "I didn't know monsters slept..." Crane whispered to himself. Though Crane had become 'friends' with the Joker, he had no intentions of understanding his lack of ethics.

Self inflicted scars on the most viable, visible place. A reminder. Crane always thought when he'd look at the Joker. Crane had his own theory about how the Joker got his scars.

He had lost his innocent's, witnessed... Something, something that made him him. Cut himself in transition from human to monster. Those scars remind him that the past was real. He may not want to remember everyday, but he remembers every time he looks in the mirror.

As Crane was musing all this, he stretched out and fell asleep, thinking about his own self demise.

Crane's POV

You put your right hand on your left hand shoulder.

The ally was dark, the air was cold, and I was lost. I looked down the ally way, but was met with almost shear darkness. I looked down at my feet, to notice they wear bear. I started walking, though, my feet meeting cold cement. Protesting up to my knees, the cold met my groin.

I reached the end of the ally, and looked down a street, at the end was lights and, what looked like, a big crowd. I walked towards it, looking for my sense of direction, maybe one of the people could help me look.

As I got closer, I could hear a person yelling. Male, young, voice familiar. Also, as I got closer, my panic level started rising, and my feet started running. When I got to the edge of the crowd, I didn't stop, I plowed my way through.

Shoulder. Your crossing the crowd, and facing the ground.

The crowd didn't even notice me. I finally could make out the words of the protester. "We won't follow him. Will we? No! Because we are one. We don't live for him! We make our own decisions. Because we are what!?" The man asked the crowd. "One!" They shouted back.

I got to the edge of the stage he was standing on, I looked at the ground. But then looked up when everyone silenced. "Well isn't it Doctor, Doctor, Doctor Crane. The man himself, selfish bones in all. Making us coven to the sins of the flesh. Come up here, Doctor, let every one see your pretty face."

You're never gunna' join they're Godless order.

The man on the stage looked exactly like me. Save the no glasses, his muscular body, sex appeal, cruel features, and messy hair. I pulled myself on stage and looked in the mans eyes.

There was something in his soul that seemed even more familiar then the looks. "Who... Are you?" I asked sensitively. He laughed and put a giant hand on my bony cheek. "Don't you know?" He asked, looking at the crowd.

"He should know! He made us!" He yelled, the crowd cheered. He looked back at me. "Don't you remember?" He asked, he put his hand on my cheek again, and he pushed my oldest, most terrifying, memory forward. The day I lost my sanity.

"Scarecrow." I whispered to him. He purred in approval. "How ya' been, Johnny? Long time, no chat." He said, kissing me softly. I pulled away. "I'm sorry, this is a little to... Fucked up." I whispered to him.

He smiled. "Johnny, we are fucked up. Everything about us is fucked up."

"Well, I meant the fact I just kissed myself." I said, mainly to myself. Scarecrow addressed the crowd again. "What do ya'll say? Welcome Johnny back, Scarecrow style?"

The crowd cheered and he nodded. "Ok then." Scarecrow turned back to me. He clapped his hands and four cable cords dropped from the clouds. Scarecrow gave me the smile that reflected we were planing. He hooked my arms and legs to the cables.

"Welcome back, Johnny." He clapped his hands again, the cables started pulling my limbs, like a marinate doll. Music started to play, and Scarecrow sang along, dancing with me. Almost like he was pulling my strings.

"Remember when you had the will, had the will to go on. But now your body is old, and your will is gone. Remember when you had the power, the power to move it from one place into another, and another one." He slowly waltzed around to the slow electronic song. Putting his mouth to my ear.

"We are one." Then he licked my ear, and I woke up.

Omniscient POV

Crane woke up, looked out the window to find it was hardly mourning. He put his head in his hands and breathed out. He dually noted he had a major hard on. "Today is your day, Jonathan. It is it is."

"Ya know, the first sign of being crazy is talking to yourself." Crane groaned at the snarky voice of the Joker. "To late, eh?" Crane asked, looking through sleepy eyes to the Jokers form.

"What's got your bird, Crane? Bad dreams? Or, by the looks of things, good dreams?" The Joker looked at Crane's strained Arkham pants. Jonathan groaned again, putting his pillow over his crotch.

"Hey, hey. Don't hold back that pretty thing." The Joker complained, walking over to Crane and sitting down. Taking the pillow away and palming Crane's erection. Crane purred, moaned, and sighed, all in one vocal assessment.

"Oh, stop, Joker, please. " Crane pleased. "I don't think so." Joker squeezed his other hand under Crane's bottom, fingering his hole through his pants. Crane moaned. "Talk, Crane, wanna' here you..."

"Oh, yea sure... Uh, god, Joker, your so hot. Wanna feel you inside me and-"

"RISE AND SHINE, PANSY'S!" Harley yelled as the orderly opened Crane and the Joker's cell.

"Harley!?" The Joker screamed and looked at her, then the orderly. "Hey, it's Saturday and the clown girl asked to see you, special." Tyson, the best looking orderly, said.

"Hey Mistah J! Hey Johnny." Harley waved to a half hard, hair mussed Crane. Jonathan waved weakly back. "Hi sweetie." He said to her, she giggled. "Mistah J, you should give me a pet name." She whined, holding his hands.

"Oh, I have a few in mind-"

"Joker, how about some breakfast." Crane interjected. Though Crane didn't like Harvey's gang, Harley seemed sweeter then most.

"Yea, ok." The Joker grumbled.

"Johnny, we're starting what we finished later." Joker warned, but smiled. And Crane was eagerly awaiting later.

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A/N: Too sexual? I'm sorry if it was! =o