Mad As A Hatter - Chapter Four: "I'm Alright"
I'm
alright
Nobody worry 'bout me
Why you got to gimme a
fight?
Can't you just let it be?
I'm alright
Don't
nobody worry 'bout me
You got to gimme a fight
Why don't you
just let me be
Do what you like,
Doing it nat'rally
But
if it's too easy
They're gonna disagree
It's your life
And
isn't it a mystery
If it's nobody's bus'ness
It's everybody's
game
Gotta catch you later
No, no, cannonball it right
away
Some Cinderella kid
Get it up and get you a
job
(Dip dip dip dip dip dip dip dip)
I'm alright
Nobody
worry 'bout me
Why you got to gimme a fight?
Can't you just let
it be?
I'm alright
Don't nobody worry 'bout me
You got
to gimme a fight
Why don't you just let me be
Who do you
want?
Who you gonna be today?
And who is it really
Makin' up
your mind?
You wanna listen to the man?
Pay attention to
the magistrate
And while I got you in the mood
Listen to
your
Own heart beatin'
Own heart beatin'
Own heart
beatin'
Own heart beatin'
Don't it get you movin'
mmmmm-man
It make me feel good
(Wow, Cinderella kid)
Then give it up and give it the job
(dip
dip dip dip dip dip dip dip)
(Boom, boom, boom, boom)
I'm
alright
Nobody worry 'bout me
Why you got to gimme a
fight?
Can't you just let it be?
I'm alright
Don't
nobody worry 'bout me
You got to gimme a fight
Why don't you
just let me be
I'm alright
Nobody worry 'bout me
Why you
got to gimme a fight?
Can't you just let it be?
I'm
alright
I'm alright
Just let me be
Jonathan Crane, also known more for his alter ego "Scarecrow", had been leisurely sitting in Illia's office desk chair, feet propped up on the wood work. He looked rather bored and happened to be playing with the Newton's Cradle model that Illia had kept on her desk.
His deep, green eyes were narrowed behind his glasses and thick bangs of dark, caramel hair traced over his furrowed brow. Apparently he was thinking of something, but not for long. He placed the model back down on the desk and looked around, his expression now completely placid. Jonathan wasn't the most attractive type, but he had his charm. Perhaps it had something to do with his eyes, so full of expression and secrets.
Crane's hair wasn't much of a mess as Jervis', since he had more of a chance to clean himself up. After all, he wasn't the one who had attacks at night so he got more privileges. The ex-professor's form was that of far too skinny and didn't seem to help his long, gangly body. It was a mystery to see how he ever got around. And it wasn't just because he was malnourished, which he and the rest of the rogues were anyway, it was just because of his body type. He was like that ever since he was a child.
Knowing Crane's nature to use people's fears against them and controlling those fears, it was odd to say he and Jervis were quite good friends. Perhaps it was because they had several things in common. They were both tormented as children, both been used and controlled, one by fear and one by people in general, and both snapped after they could no longer take it. Perhaps it was also because of their love for literature and the fact that Jervis wasn't bothered by Jonathan's queer comments and appearance, same as Jonathan wasn't bothered by Jervis' tendency to quote and freak others out with his obsession with Wonderland.
It was a very odd friendship, but they themselves were odd to begin with. So therefore was the reason he was called into Illia's office, who happened to not be there as of yet. She apparently wished to speak to Crane to get more information or opinions about Jervis Tetch. Jonathan didn't really mind that, considering what Jervis had told him about the woman. It had been a while since he saw Jervis chirpier and happy ever since he began getting the attacks at night. He used to hardly speak at all and would come into the commons looking as if he went through hell and back. But now, he just seemed to brighten up, the dark rings under his eyes hardly noticeable.
Crane was surprised to think he was glad that Jervis was getting better, but still the attacks would go on at night and that still bothered him. Why and how the attacks started were beyond him. He had never sensed fear or any of the sort when he spoke to Jervis just the day before the first attack. Perhaps it was the fact Jervis could no longer stand this place? Jonathan began to think that sooner or later he would lose it at night too if he stayed in this shit-hole of a place any longer. Maybe, just maybe, he could use Illia as a means to get out. It looked like she planned on freeing Jervis too at this rate. It would be best if he stayed on good terms with the therapist.
And so, he got out of her office chair and walked back over to his appropriate seat, waiting for Miss Saint to show herself. He was glad there wasn't a clock in the room, for ticking of the clock and the silence in the room would have drove him truly mad.
It wasn't long before Illia finally did show up, her hair tussled slightly from the wind she had experienced on her two-hour walk to work. It was apparent by the slightly soggy look of her clothes and hair that it had rained again on her way there, her nose just a little red from the development of a slight cold. Her black eyes were dulled from the pain of her earlier incident of waking up to find her beloved pet dead in her lap, as well as the groggy feeling that loomed over her like a cloud, but overall she looked almost as alert as she had been for the past two days.
Kicking the door shut, she removed her coat and fedora to hang them on a peg before making her way to her chair and setting her briefcase down to the side to open it. Again, she was extremely focused as she put in her combination and opened it, pulling out several more papers than usual for the session.
"I see you've been enjoying the Newton's Cradle..." Illia mused without looking up.
"I had been waiting so long I had to resort to some how entertain myself," Jonathan replied, his gaze ever leaving her as he crossed both his arms and legs, "Difficult morning?" he mused, cupping his hand under his chin as he raised a delicate eyebrow.
"Quite observant," Illia replied, looking up for a brief instance, then lowering her gaze again. "You are correct." Her fingers fidgeted with the pen as result of a well-matured habit, suddenly starting to pen something down on her paper while her other hand swept back over her head to straighten her hair.
"Well...are we going to get started or do you want to wait until your mood changes?" Crane inquired, his tone having a soft, but agitated sound to it.
Illia sighed, trying not to huff at him. "We're doing this now." She opened up a few paper packets and spread them out before her on the desk. "Firstly, I need to inquire about one of your institutionalized companions, a Mr. Tetch. If you could kindly do so, please, give me a few words on him." Her pen was poised, ready to write.
"Hmm...he's a very interesting fellow. We're rather close, but what kind of things would you like me to tell you?" Jonathan asked while uncrossing his arms, "You know, he's actually talked about you before. He may finally get that Alice-woman out of his head."
"Anything distinguishing about his personality, past, anything you can tell me about his motives...really whatever's lying around in your mind collecting dust," Illia replied scribbling another a few dates on the paper as she thought about them. "Anything at all."
"When I first met him," Crane spoke as he studied his hands, "He was in hysterics. He couldn't distinguish reality from fantasy. It was a while before he recovered. He is usually calm and completely normal when we talk, except when he gets into his 'Wonderland' moods. He has his moments, not that anyone else in the asylum doesn't." Jonathan shrugged and let a sigh escape him, "I actually thought he was going to recover and get out of here until the attacks started. It didn't make sense that all of a sudden he lost it at night. After all, I think, besides me, he's the sanest one in this hell-hole. It's Joker who should be getting more attention from the people here."
Illia visibly flinched and dropped her pen, suddenly scrambling to resume her position and recover quickly as she started to write with a slightly-trembling hand. She was unable to speak, but her actions spoke far louder than any words from her mouth. If it was even possible, she was paler than before, her black eyes wider than ever as she fidgeted and dropped the pen again. It was after this that she decided to give herself time to relax before starting again.
Jonathan was going to say more, but stopped, his wide, green eyes filling with curiosity, "Oh, did I hit a touchy subject?" he mused, lacing his bony fingers together. His voice was still soft and collective, yet his expression was that of excitement. Oh, how he loved seeing the littlest spark of fear in someone. Especially /this/ one. There was something about her, something about the dark mist that happened to swarm around her. It wasn't visible to most, but it was visible to Crane.
"No," Illia replied after two seconds of mental rehearsal to keep herself from betraying anymore apprehension on her part, "Low blood sugar." Her hand felt for the flask on her belt, finding and detaching it before biting off the lid, putting it down on the desk, and taking a long hard swig of the substance within. It smelled even more strongly than the last concoction she had. True, it did make her stop shaking, but it didn't take away the presence of her fear.
Fear in which Jonathan was feeding off of, maybe not literally, but it was making him feel very, very excited. "That so? Well, as I was saying about Joker..." he trailed off, watching for any more betrayal to her emotions.
But the only betrayal this time was the tightening of her grip around the flask and another drink from it. She was even further on edge than she had been in a very long time. "Please, continue." Her voice was the ultimate give-away, considering it was low and had a twitch in it.
"Are you sure everything is alright? I sense a twinge of fear. It's been twice now that you reacted to a certain word. May I ask what may be the real problem?" Crane had apparently switched rolls at the moment, considering he was once a psychiatrist, let alone a college professor who had an obsession with people's fears.
Illia, however, saw exactly where Dr. Crane was going with this, and she didn't like it one bit. Not that she was going to be able to escape this situation. What would she have to say to herself later for running away? She would have been nothing more than a coward, in her opinion.
With this in mind, she took a long breath. "Alright." she mumbled darkly, "I'll tell you."
A cold, pale white hand covered her mouth as another pulled her back into the darkness, a dark, chilling laughter filling the foggy, horror filled atmosphere, "Why, hello, there my pretty! Little late to be out isn't it, sweetums?" Another chuckle, the darkness covering up the face of Illia's capture. "Don't try to wiggle free, you'll hurt my feelings and I'll have to make my lovable pets to come get you back," he whispered, but laughed again, a chorus of hyena laughs behind him as two of the beasts came up beside both sides of their master and Illia.
The white-haired teenager struggled violently against the grip of her attacker, trying to scream and bite as best as possible, but to no avail. He was too strong, and he had her too compromising a position to do anything further. She was getting lightheaded from the fear running through her, and she finally had to stop fighting.
"That's a good girl," Joker whispered in her ear, taking her out of the ally and soon enough in one of his hideouts. He had recently escaped out of Arkham, but had left his dear Harley Quinn behind and he didn't feel like coming back for her. So instead, he decided to pick another little lady to have a little fun with.
Illia was in tears already as she was forced along with him, unsure of what was about to happen to her. Not that she had a lot of room to ask about it. Her mouth was being covered. All she could do was do what she was told until she was sure he was going too far. She didn't realize that he was about to.
"Now, I'm going to take my hand away, and if you dare to scream, I'll have to break that pretty little neck of yours. We savvy, love?" Joker asked, wiggling his eyebrows, his grin as wide as ever.
Illia only nodded, shivering violently as her black eyes grew darker than the voids of the abyss. He had successfully terrified her beyond her wit to respond any other way than to obey him. Her fingers were tense as she tried to clench them and get a grip.
"Goodie! I think I really am going to like you," he laughed in his eerie way and took his hand from her mouth, "Now let's see...what shall I do with you first? Wanna play a few games, hmm?"
Illia was completely torn and unable to respond now, still shivering and steadily growing more pale and clammy from fright. She wanted to scream, "No! I don't want to play your sick games! I want to go home!" There was no way, though. If she disagreed with him she'd be punished somehow. She had a feeling she was about to be anyways. Finally, however, out of a streak of self-gain, she shook her head before losing herself to her tears again.
Joker's smile turned to a frowned and he narrowed his black, bottomless eyes and stroked her tear stained face with a finger for a moment until suddenly slapping her hard across the face, "Too bad, because I'm in a playful mood!" he cackled. "and now, let the games role!"
Games at which young minds should be kept from reading. Even Jonathan was slightly disturbed by Illia's descriptions of what happened to her, and the fact that Batman never came until much, much later when he found the Joker's hideout.
Again, Illia drank deeply from her flask, suddenly finishing it off with a deep breath. "That's what happened."
Jonathan kept his hands folded and he sighed, nodding his head, "I can understand your fear and loathing of Joker...but is this also a reason why you despise the Batman?" he asked, his expression solemn and calm, though a feeling of disgust that he already had for the homicidal clown was growing.
"Yes. Every other crime he was there to put a stop to..." Illia mumbled, bringing the flask from her lips and screwing the cap back on. "But for mine and mine alone, he was a full hour LATE!" Her flask came down on the desk with a loud crack, Illia's expression not changing as she picked up her pen to write something down. "If you're familiar with The Samurai's case, you'll know the other reason."
"Oh, yes, I heard about that one. But I
sense we should change the subject. Any more questions you want to
ask me?" Jonathan asked, pushing his glasses up with his index
finger.
There was a tight grip to Illia's pen as she nodded and
glanced at another paper. "Could you rate his insanity for me? I
just need some insight on that, your own personal opinion."
"I'd give it between a seven or an eight. With the attacks he's been having...it's hard to tell anymore. Sometimes they aren't very bad, but sometimes he screams so loud the entire asylum can here him," Crane sighed, rubbing his temples, "Oh, one more thing you probably should know, but you might already-I over heard the nurses saying they changed his medication. I also heard it made him very sick, so I'm not sure of what condition he could be in today."
Illia sighed and shook her head, making notes. "Changed his medication. They should know that medicines are a probable instigator for most of his problems anyways. I'm going to suggest otherwise..." Again, she scribbled. "I think that's about all I can think of right now. To ask you, that is. If I think of something else, I'll catch you at a later time."
Jonathan only nodded and got up, "So I suppose we're done now?"
"We are," Illia replied, getting up to unlock the door and open it back up. "I'll be seeing you later today."
"Be careful with Jervis," Jonathan warned, his eyes narrowed, "He's been easily used by people and I'm sure it's killing him more each time. I may not know your full intentions dealing with Jervis, but don't hurt him," and with that, he let the guard take him away down the hall.
Illia closed the door and locked it before heading back to her desk. "Believe me..." she whispered to herself. "That's the last thing I intend to do..." The whisper hit the walls, coming back to her as small breezes. "Like others have done to me..." She put her head down in her arms and cried quietly for the next twenty minutes.
