Second chapter - I've worked extra hard at making this one longer again :)
I would love some comments, to see what you guys think

I do not own batman, nor the song lyrics

Chapter Two

Don't know where I can buy a heart, the one I've got is shoddy, I need a brand new body, and then I can have a brand new start –Tickle Me Pink by Johnny Flynn

I couldn't believe it. I had hoped of seeing him again since I moved back, but I had no idea of course what had happened to Jon after I had left Gotham. He looked exactly the same as the young boy I had invited home for tea, but then, completely different at the same time, it was uncanny, and it was unnerving. He was still stick thin, but the scarecrow-style clothes were gone in favour of a relatively smart suit. He stood up and straight, and I was not surprised to see that he was still very much taller than me. Yet what I recognised most strongly of all were his eyes. Sad blue eyes that were now behind a pair of rimless glasses. He seemed to be acting rather coolly, despite of the obvious looks of distrust circling him. For a moment I had to wonder why, and then it clicked. Scarecrow. All the childhood nicknames had evidently taken a hold. I approached him, unsure of what to think. I couldn't imagine what had happened to make the shy boy I once knew go mad enough to try and gas a whole city.

"Oh, Jon. What happened to you?" I said sympathetically, hugging him and feeling him flinch at the contact. I could feel the glares of my colleagues at my back. The ring of various phones awoke me to my job, so I scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Jon, who was still frozen.
"I have to go on duty now, but it would mean so much…I mean," I paused, "would you like to come over for tea?" I asked, mimicking myself as a child. Again, surprising me as he had all those years ago, he said yes.

"I don't believe it." Andy said to me as we sat in the car, enjoying the short peace before we got radioed elsewhere.
"What?" I asked, despite knowing what he meant.

"You inviting Jonathan Crane – The Scarecrow – over your place. Are you mad?" He fingered the steering wheel, not looking me in the eye.
"I'm sorry," I felt the need to apologise, though not completely sure why, "he's an old childhood friend. My only friend until I moved out of Gotham." I bit my lip.
"If he's so bad, then why has the Commissioner hired him? Why is he walking the streets for that matter?"

At first Andy just shrugged, but after spotting my glower, replied.
"Well, they got him a psychiatrist in prison. Wasn't long before they set him on drugs and declared him sane. The Commissioner hired him because, before, he was the leading psychologist at Arkham. That and the fact he was a criminal sets him up to be a pretty good criminal psychologist. And we do need the best to deal with the Joker, and the various scum he haunted." Andy's knuckles tightened around the steering wheel.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the radio spoke instead.

I immediately collapsed on he sofa when I got home. That last robbery was a tough and incredibly long job. If it weren't for the appearance of a certain man in black, we would most certainly still be trying to sort it out. Gordon had sent a few cops after his trail, but he hadn't looked happy about it. I also had to wonder why he hadn't sent everyone, even though I was grateful he didn't. The batman was supposed to be the most wanted of Gotham, practically everyone wanted him caught, identified, and locked away. Gordon, however, didn't seem enthusiastic in catching the Dark Knight. I didn't have much time to ponder this however, because a hesitant, but precise, knock on the door made me jump off of the sofa and to my feet. Of course! Jon! It had completely slipped my mind, I bustled about, checking the apartment was in order, before stopping to wonder why I was worrying. I hurried to open the door, taking a deep breath before I did so. I opened the door to a very calm Jon holding a bunch of pale blue flowers.

"oh. Wow. You… uh…never brought flowers before,"
Jon looked at them awkwardly. "oh…you don't like?" he asked, still calm.
"oh, no! They're lovely. Come in! Sorry, I've just got back…afraid I haven't yet started cooking anything. Sorry," It was probably a good thing Jon was so calm, I was showing enough activity and emotion for the two of us. He entered without a noise and shut the door cautiously behind him. I offered a drink, which he politely refused, perching himself on the end of my sofa. I looked at him sat there apprehensively. I saw at a comfortable distance from him of the sofa.
"Oh, Jon. What happened to you?" I said, my voice laced with pity.

He looked at me, accusingly.
"My only friend left," he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I paused mid-breath. Of course it was. I was about to reply, but he changed the subject.

"Police Officer then…You always were the tough one," he joked, half-heartedly.

"and you were always the clever one," I retorted, with a smile, "I hear you are quite a psychologist, one of the best in Gotham," I challenged. He showed the slightest of smiles, and I knew then that the boy I was a friend with all those years ago was still there somewhere. I leapt up, and made my way to the kitchen
"I should warn you," I said from the kitchen as I looked through cupboards for some to cook, "I'm not the cook my mother is,".
"I'm sure it'll be better than mine," he replied from the front room. I peaked round to see him looking at a few of the pictures I had placed around the apartment, trying to make it seem more homely.

I eventually managed to cook a suitable meal and get it served up on my poor excuse for a dining table. He asked me how I had been over the few years, and how I had gotten into police work. I began to tell him about what had happened to me since I left.

I managed to get him to talk about something. Nevertheless, he only talked about the psychology he was doing now, nothing of what he did before, let alone during, his time as the Scarecrow.

When I said goodbye at the end of the evening, I was smiling.

"It's been so great to see you again. I would love it for you to come over again soon, I may not see you at work, so just feel free to just drop in…"
He nodded and said he'd be glad to, but I did detect a slight lack of sincerity.

He did not turn up the next evening, nor the evening after that. I had pretty much given up on him, when one evening, whilst I was curled up on the sofa watching one of my favourite crime shows, a tap at the door made me leap out of my skin. I got up grumbling about how I was not wearing very respectable clothes and how the murderer was about to be revealed. I stopped grumbling as soon as I opened the door.
Jon was stood there with a Chinese take away and another small bunch of flowers.

"I hope you haven't eaten," he said, indicating the bag of food, "I thought it would be easier than you having to rush round and cook something,". He handed me the flowers coyly. I thanked him for them,
"yellow," I commented, "they'll go nice with the blue ones…" I went to place them in the vase with the others. Jon followed me into the flat, closing the door behind him.

"I have to admit, I wasn't expecting you to come back after last time… as you can see, I'm hardly dressed to receive visitors" I drifted off,
"I've worn worse…" he said, and I couldn't help but wonder whether he was referring to what he wore as a child or…something else. A slightly awkward silence settled, until Jon broke it.
"I missed you," he obviously wasn't this comfortable opening up to someone; he probably hadn't done so since I left.
"So did I, if I am honest, I actually worried about you," I tried to lighten the atmosphere.
"You had good reason to," Jon replied, a hint of a smile tickling his lips.

By the end of the evening, I had managed to get him to talk a little about why he took an interest in psychology. Hearing his side of the story, as opposed to what I could gather from my fellow cops, made me sympathise with him so much more.

Luckily, the evening ended on a lighter note.

He returned the day after, and the day after that. Sometimes with a take out, sometimes without and he helped me cook. Always with a flower. We frequently traded work stories, as I rarely saw Jon at work. He spent most of his time at Arkham, which he wasn't entirely comfortable with. In his words he had "spent to much time there, and not just as a psychologist".

For me, however, work was going extremely well. So well that I eventually earned myself a promotion to a Police Sergeant. Naturally, Jon suggested we should celebrate by eating out somewhere. This meant that for once, I got to go round his apartment.

It was in one of the more down-trodden parts of Gotham, but thankfully not too far from where I lived. I couldn't believe how much difference a few blocks made to the quality of housing. Inside the flat wasn't too bad. Jon hadn't done much in the way of decorating, so it felt slightly cold and bare. I could see why he liked to come round mine as often as he did. I had a bit of a look, helping him to find his wallet. The apartment was a little bit of a mess, but I couldn't talk as mine was too. It also made me feel better knowing he wasn't as prim and neat as he came across. In one of the room I found something I didn't like.
"that is a lot of pills Jon…" I said, curiosity making me look closer at them. They were only anti-depressants, but the sheer number shocked me. I looked at him accusingly when his came in, wallet dangling from one hand.
"you haven't been taking these, have you?" I bit my lip.
"well…no," he admitted quickly, before explaining even quicker.
"I don't need them. I'm a psychologist, and I know that all they are is a social-control measure. I'm not depressed, and would rather deal with…"
"A social-control measure?" I asked, slightly dubious. He nodded.
"you know, first they used straight jackets, then ECT. Now they just drug people up and dull them down,"

I knew I probably should have, but I did trust him. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. They were just anti-depressants, after all. Still…
"well, promise me that you'll see someone about it. I mean…if you don't need them, then let someone know so you don't have to keep getting them and lying."
Jon smiled at me, before leading me out of the apartment.
"Fine," he said, handing me a pink flower out of nowhere, "however, I probably would need them if you weren't here distracting me and keeping me sane,"