Ello! Minion here! First I would like to give thanks to everyone who was read or reviewed my humble yet demented story! It's always a pleasure to hear your thoughts and see your reactions!

Yet for this chapter, I have a bit of explaining to do. As I've mentioned before, I will be using bits of 'Jonathan Crane: The Origin of The Scarecrow' within Mors Et Timor and its sequel, Timor Et Mors, and so to better understand this chapter I ask that you all read the short (five chapters) bit of 'backstory' I wrote. While it's not the REAL backstory of Dr. Crane, it's the one I'll be using for this story and the following ones.

Also I do not own in any way, shape, or form batman with that in mind, enjoy!

Chapter 18

My preparations were almost complete. It was almost time to introduce Revis into a world she would not soon forget but first I would have to lay down a few basic rules.

I placed my glasses upon the desk to rub tiredly at my eyes. I didn't get enough sleep, as usual, but it would all pay off in the end...

I stifled my smile as best as possible before I was overcome by an excited joy which knew no restraint. In fact, my joy only grew at the sight of Revis meekly shuffling into the room, head downcast with her gold brown hair falling into her face.

She sat at her usual chair but made no movement to speak or look up. In some act of inner turmoil, she twisted the inner fabric of her white, longsleeved undershirt that rested against her wrist.

So timid, so weak...I found it all disgustingly endearing. I savored each act of submission but some part of me yearned to test my wits against the cold mortician I met so many months ago.

For once, I decided to let the initial conversation fall under her incentive since I was content enough to drink in her docile behavior and I knew she would soon crack under the pressure. While she has made a greater effort at taking back her controlled mind, the recent trauma would keep her useless with no more significance than an animal.

Why were all the minds around me so weak? I didn't succumb to my traumatic childhood; I grew stronger...I held purpose.

I resisted the urge to sigh.

So many neglected to see my full potential. In some ways the delicious terror and pleading would pale as they never realized the building threat but for my purposes their fear would suffice.

The silence pressed heavily on the room and I found myself irritated as ten quiet minutes passed by.

Well, it seems I'll have to begin the session anyway.

"I trust you've recovered from last week, Revis?"

She flinched then nodded slowly, still refusing to lift her head.

"Good," she looked up in suspicion, "Now that you hold an attention span longer than a goldfish, I would like to discuss your behavior this past month."

She said nothing but continued to eye me warily.

"I have already made the appropriate phone calls—" her face paled and she shook her head but before she could respond I continued while smirking, "—and if your behavior does not improve by our next session, you'll begin insulin shock therapy."

She slowly lowered her widened eyes and I noticed a growing collection of tear stains on the sleeves of her suit however she gave no other outward sign of grief.

I cleared my throat causing her to look up although tears still fell from her bloodshot eyes, "In fact, I find a small dose of insulin to jump start the procedure to alleviate any irrational fears the patient may have before treatment. Of course, protective measures have already been taken but one can never be too sure how you'll react with the drug not only biologically but psychologically."

I raised my still bandaged hand which I had kept below the desk until now to reveal a syringe.

She shook her head again and said in a choked voice, "H-How am I s-supposed to improve if I don't get a chance?"

I raised my eyebrows while I leaned forward over my desk mockingly, "Why Revis, you've already had a chance. I believe the initial warning and then my second warning as you attempted to avoid seeing me were enough."

She began to shake and I saw her eyes dart back and forth on the carpet as she struggled to comprehend what was about to occur.

Ah, the overwhelming dread and fear of the unknown...Little did she know, I held a strong dose of my fear toxin instead of insulin but I found the fear she was emitting charming in the strongest sense.

It was a small shame I hadn't found a chemical formula that would last longer than ten minutes but the new compound I created would affect the cognitive area of her brain to mix the hallucinations and memories into a surreal nightmare.

The only downside to my experiments was the lack of understanding between the test subject and their personal fears. It was well enough to say one feared bats but that was entirely different from the actual hallucination the subject would see.

Oh well.

I stood and slowly walked around my desk to near her.

Surprisingly enough, instead of waiting and cowering she shot out toward my desk. Before she was able to reach the call button or something to use as a weapon I wrapped my left arm around her outstretched arms to hold them tightly against her body as my other arm came around to hold her still as I tried to inject the toxin into her system.

Ghn—

I shook my head to clear it as I realized she must have whipped back her head in an attempt to escape. I exhaled heavily.

Now I was annoyed. When I got my hands on her—What was she doing?!

While I was distracted, she had pulled open my drawers to search for something and now she held the letter opener I kept in my desk.

Damn, when did she see me use that?

Without any hesitation, she brought the knife to her throat as I jumped toward her once more, uncaring of the syringe in my hand.

What exactly happened I wasn't sure but I knew she was alive seeing as she was sobbing beneath me.

"P-Please, I want to die," her voice cracked as she cried, "I have not-nothing left..."

I noted the knife had fallen many feet away so I found it safe to shift my weight so I wasn't pressed—

Ouch, what was that stinging—

Oh no...

I looked down in disbelief as I saw my syringe sticking out from my leg with the contents already injected into my system.

No, this wasn't good. I needed the antidote!

The room began to waver but I fought against it as I tried to calm my heart rate knowing any anger, panic, or struggle would only worsen the effects.

Damn, where did I keep the antidote—

Ugh, if only I could see past the twisting cornstalks—

No, not the cornstalks...

I was panting as the heat trapped within the whispering stalks pressed me further into the dusty ground.

"Jonathan!"

I froze as I heard my grandmothers raspy voice...

No, this wasn't right, I killed her. She was dead in the aviary—

"Jonathan!"

I looked fearfully through dusty glasses as the tall cornstalks began to crack and rustle as someone made their way toward me. Shaking my head, I immediately ducked into the cornfield trying to escape her.

Ghost or not, I would never face that damned woman again.

My chest constricted painfully as I was overwhelmed by the sounds of the cornstalks breaking under my feet and my own breathing echoing loudly in my ear. I felt sweat roll down my neck but didn't pause to wipe it. I needed to find a way out. I needed to—

Ah!

I roughly tripped over my own feet and landed in a small clearing. I flinched as cawing crows flew over me, skimming my hair and hands as I curled into myself. I was shaking against the touch—Oh, how I hated those crows. Yet they continued to speak loudly in crass voices that left chills down my spine...

Warily I looked up to find—Madeline?!

N-No, this wasn't right. Madeline died, Bo killed—

"Jonathan..." she said tightly and it was then I noticed the crows had began to wear away at her skin and the dress she wore the night she died as she hung limply against the post a scarecrow once used.

Tears tightened in my throat as I moved forward hoping to get those nasty birds away from her when I found a gun in my hand.

I frowned with tears falling down my dirty cheeks at the cold metal that grew warm in my sweaty palm.

"J-Jonathan," she coughed dryly which drew my attention back to her, "Why did you kill me? Jonath—"

"NO!" I screamed and raised the gun to pull the trigger—

Wait, what? No, I didn't want to kill—Oh no, what have I done?!

I dropped to my knees and sobbed until I noticed the noise had stopped. Worn out but curious I lifted my head to—

I flew back as a crow's open beak enveloped my face. I struggled against their touch as hundreds of crows descended on me: biting, crying out loudly in my ear, scratching against my hands, drowning me in dark feathers and beady eyes—

"Dr. Crane!"

I blinked uneasily as a dark figure, damn was that another cro—

Oh, it was Revis...

I swallowed and shuffled up only to find myself pressed against the couch in front of my desk.

What happened? The toxin—

"Dr. Crane, are you alright?" Revis asked as she kneeled over me and gently brushed hair out of my eyes.

She tenderly wiped away a tear from my eye and placed a comforting hand against my shoulder. I felt her thumb move in small circles as she spoke, "Dr. Crane, it's alright the crows are gone...You don't have to run or hide any—"

I pushed her away as I stood and glared at her heatedly while I panted.

How dare she act like I was weaker than her! I...It was her fault. She needed to leave.

"Get out..." I said in a low, dark voice.

She paused and looked at me with scared eyes but shook her head and tried to near me, "Dr. Crane—"

"NO! Get out!" I yelled and she flinched harshly while sucking in a deep breath.

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists by my side as tried to control my fury—

What?

I opened my eyes surprised to find Revis hugging me.

Why was she still here? I told her to leave and she—

"You don't have to hide anymore..." She murmured as she held me in a loose but solid grip with her head leaning against my chest.

What in the world?

I exhaled in shock and swallowed but before I could find the strength to push her away or curse at her, I found myself pulling her closer. I tightening my grip on her to what must have been a painful degree but she didn't complain.

What was I doing?! She was a loon, I was a psychiatrist, this was wrong—

Yet it was also...warm, nice...This was safe.

I took deep breathes as I simply held onto her unable to do much else.

In less than two minutes, I had calmed myself down and come to my senses. Stiffly, I broke away to stare coldly into her uncertain eyes, "That will be all for today."

At first, she was frozen in place before she scurried out of the room where guards would be waiting. I mentally thanked her for leaving quickly so I was saved the trip to the call button.

When I was sure she was gone, I collapsed against the couch feeling completely exhausted. I pressed my hand against my eyes yet the ringing echo of those crows in my ears remained.

Well I knew the toxin was a success but that wasn't relevant at the moment. I needed to collect my thoughts...There was something she said, something important.

Damn, I couldn't think over the echo of those blasted crow—The crows.

She knew about the crows...but how? I might have mentioned it as I—

I ground my teeth as I thought of my weakness and in front of her no less.

Why had I not pushed her away sooner? Or better yet why did she comfort me?

Not that I needed it. I would have recovered just the same had she not intervened.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, but she had intervened...I just needed to know why.

General concern for humanity was a plausible explanation although I had no prior evidence to support the idea. Other than her victims to which she showed fury and took a sadistic pleasure from their pain, she viewed everyone else with indifference.

Well everyone else, aside from me.

Due to my ability to reduce her to panic with a few words or small actions she feared me...and yet she also helped me. What did she have to gain from that? Did she believe I would overlook her disobedience or that I had somehow opened up?

She was gravely mistaken...

I just needed to rest, it was too early to leave and I had more paperwork to shuffle through just as I'm sure there was yet another board meeting in an hour and a half. I ran my hands through my hair as I hung my head in exhaustion.

There was so much to do. I was always pressed for time as the idea of a night's sleep itself became a distant dream. I needed to attend the meeting and if I must I would take home some paperwork to finish over breakfast—

Oh, I briefly forgot I didn't have time for breakfast anymore.

Come to think of it when was the last time I had eaten?

My stomach growled painfully as if to remind me of my neglectful behavior prompting me to check my watch tiredly.

Well 4:21 wasn't too late for a late lunch or an early dinner.

Shaking my head against my drooping eyes, I yawned and promised myself a large coffee at wherever I was going.

Checking that my keys and glasses were on, I made my way out of my office and ignored the squirrelly intern that stumbled over her words as she apologized for almost running into me. Too tired to flash a smile, I nodded and made my way through the dark halls of Arkham.

Sometimes I believed this building was too large and dank to ever escape but thankfully I was able to leave long enough to keep my sanity.

I blinked up at the roaring, clouded sky as I cursed under my breath for neglecting to bring an umbrella.

In a fowl yet fatigued mood I made my way through the rain to my car, already missing the warm embrace from—

No, I was tired that was all; the heater would suffice.

Yet when I turned on my ignition and pulled away from Arkham after flashing ID at the gate, I found myself chilled to the bone.

...

This was a disgrace.

Here I was at the incarnation of humanity's greed and gluttony: McDonald's. I cursed the pressing time which forced me to unwrap one of my two Mc-chicken wraps that I ordered with a Mc-cafe large coffee and a Mc-cola. As if the food wasn't unsavory enough, the greasy smiles and falsely cheery attitude of the cashier had me irked but it was both warm and dry inside compared to the rest of rainy Gotham. Also to my relief, I found an umbrella within my car but that hardly lifted my mood.

Grimacing, I took another sip of my cold drink to try and wash the taste of cheap labor and desperation. The taste of oppression and pain hardly brought out the taste but let it sit sourly on my tongue.

I knew the means companies like Coca-Cola and Pepsi took to make their products. After all, what use was it to use our own country's water when taking small Indonesian villages' only water supply to support a capitalist industry was so much easier. Of course, they then gave back 'free fertilizer' that was laced with toxic quantities of lead and other minerals which made the land infertile and the people sick.

I also knew the less than savory means McDonald's used to secure their produce, meat, and the sickening way they added onto the unhealthy food by feeding sugar into everything. America has fallen from grace with two golden arches of brainwashing, capitalist commercialism leading the way.

Yet I, like most Americans, was a hypocrite.

I was pressed for time, low on money, and not actually caring what I ate as long as my stomach would last until later tonight. And so, I grudgingly ate the food I purchased trying to not actually taste or think about what I was placing within my body.

Finally, I was finished with the dry, sickly food and would be able to take my now drinkable super-heated coffee and drive back to Arkham where I would suffer for about three more hours before returning home.

I disposed of my trash and tried not to feel the sickly taste of cheap sauce that still clung to my taste buds.

Never again would I eat here.

Subway would better suit my tastes; however, this was a capitalist country with only profits in mind and while 'healthy' was becoming a fashion trend, fattening, chemically degraded (I mean enhanced) food was still a priority for sales marketing to the modern American which meant more McDonalds on every other street in comparison to the odd deli.

I shook my head to rid myself of my spiteful musings as I opened my umbrella and stepped outside into the rain while taking a sip of my coffee before fighting to swallow it.

Ugh, I should have just gone to Starbucks and ordered some sweet bread and edible coffee instead of this bland, too hot perversion of caffeinated beverages.

Resisting the urge to toss it in the gutter, I convinced myself that I was already pressed for time and somewhere in the burnt, watery concoction lied some caffeine and I desperately needed caffeine. After a short struggle with the umbrella, car door, and coffee I took one more large sip (wincing and choking slightly) before giving into temptation and letting the tasteless drink fall to the road as I safely made it inside only to notice I had spilled coffee on the bottom on my suit...

Lovely, just another reminder of the loathsome—

I took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel.

Now was not the time.

I needed to make it to the board meeting, take home paperwork, sleep, then wake up at some odd hour in the morning and either grab actual coffee or make some semblance of a meal before continuing my work at the library.

'Thank God it's Friday'

Ha, not only was it a ridiculous statement which only triggered more anger at the mention of a lying—

No, now was not the time.

I started pulling out of the McDonald's parking lot before I slammed on the brakes and cursed a speeding driver who almost ran me off the road.

Just three more hours, three more hours and I'll be able to leave this 'working world' to go to my quiet house with a warm bed and soothing solitude. After twenty minutes of traffic, most of which was spent listening to various radio stations and a small wait at the gate of Arkham, I had myself convinced I would last.

Wth new confidence and a sort of hate fueled awareness, I made my way to the board meeting after noting how close I was to being late.

I entered the room with only three minutes to spare and gave a tight nod to Mrs. Carol who gave me an impatient look before turning to another staff member no doubt to gossip...

I held in a sigh as I took my seat and waited patiently while I tried to focus on those around me.

Considering the newest developments at Arkham it would be best to note the social ladder in Arkham should the investigation lead to an array of discharges.

Yet I was only halfway through categorizing in what order would the staff of Arkham face dismissal when the room was silenced and some unfamiliar government official stood holding a clipboard as he smiled tightly.

"Thank you all for coming. Now for today's board meeting we'll be discussing the ongoing investigation at Arkham—"

I barely stifled a groan.

I was going to need more caffeine.

"As you all know, this investigation has been in place for several months now but despite reassurances with the investigators and the evidence to deny the counts of mistreatment, brutality, poisoning, misdiagnosis, and other atrocities, efforts are being made to further the investigation. Similarly enough, all court cases concerning Arkham patients yet to be sentenced will be postponed until the investigation itself is concluded."

Well, it seems there will be no reason to waste even more time with the bothersome woman in order to prepare for Revis' trial yet the uproar over Joker's frequent breach of security would not disperse the media's desire to see the possible madman sentenced.

An older staff member, Dr. Shaw, spoke up in a raspy voice choked by years of tobacco, "What is left to investigate, Mr. Varner? They've been through our archives, seen recorded sessions, tested our food and medicine, evaluated some of the patients themselves. We've all been under close watch and aside from a small breach in security earlier this month and nothing has been amiss—except for that deranged clown!"

A murmur of agreeing voices steadily rose until a perky intern who had almost reached the end of her internship spoke out in a squeaky tone, "Yeah, I've been in Arkham for ten months and I can say nothing's wrong with the asylum except the lacking funds and support from the state."

"She's right. When are we going to get some budget raises? Our equipment is wearing out and we have more inmates than ever! Psychotherapy isn't cheap!" some man with a red face bellowed even though the noise was at a manageable level.

"Now, now everyone, the state is looking into the matter—" Mr. Varner, the salt and peppered government official patronized before he was cut off.

"That's what they said three years ago and look what has happened—Nothing. That's what!"

"Crime rates are higher than ever and with Batman untimely disappearance—"

Mrs. Carol spoke up shrilly, "What does that deranged vigilante turned murderer have to do with Arkham? If anything he deserves a room in here."

"What room? Our security is stretched far enough. Arkham's coming to a ruin I tell ya'," the ever eloquent Mr. Cedar, head of security, said while chewing on gum with his yellowed teeth.

"Everyone please control yourselves!" Mr. Varner commanded before taking a deep breath looking at his clipboard before turning to me with a tired yet pressing look, "Dr. Crane, your impromptu patient, known as Revis, was a part of the investigation before her admittance to Arkham, correct?"

I cleared my throat in order to give an appropriate response, "There was a complication with the investigation. While my patient was collecting data and helping those in the field she, herself, was not qualified to legally testify. Her word in court would prove to be an invalid source of information."

Mr. Varner blinked in surprise, "Her work was supervised by others who were—"

I smiled tightly, "That's where the complication lies. Those who supervised her were themselves, uncertified. In the eyes of the state, she is merely a former practitioner at Gotham's Funeral Parlor who is now committed criminal at Arkham."

He clicked his tongue but Mr. Cedar spoke up before he could reply.

"Told ya' the chit was no good. She's been a handful for the guards and everyone 'ere! She's got no respect or—"

"Mr. Cedar," Mr. Varner said sharply, "It is that particular patient which draws the state's attention. You can imagine how those involved with the investigation would find it suspicious for a former investigator, uncertified or not, to fall under the care of the very asylum and doctor she was investigating. To all who knew her, she was a quiet but well-mannered woman."

I frowned slightly, "Mr. Varner, my patient's case is not private material. If you wish to see the diagnosis or progress made during our sessions you are welcome—"

"That won't be necessary, Dr. Crane. I've read the file and so have the investigators but they find the information unsatisfactory. They want a testimony from her."

I blinked, this was not part of the plan.

"My patient is a dangerous criminal with unstable mood changes and violent tendencies. A safe conversation, let alone testimony, is out of the question."

Mr. Varner eyed me smugly from his dark grey gaze, "Despite all your credentials you're not admitting to any incompetence to such a high profile case, are you Dr. Crane?"

I clenched my jaw trying to ignore the blonde doctor's poorly disguised smile but Dr. Shaw spoke up, "Mr. Varner with all due respect, Dr. Crane has provided valuable efforts to this asylum and those who suffer from mental illnesses. His credentials are not in question but I daresay your authority is."

I turned my head slightly to look at Dr. Shaw, trying my best to hide my shock.

He spoke out in my favor. What motives did this man have?

He must have seen the questioning look for he winked at me before directing his attention to Mr. Varner who loosened his tie while Dr. Shaw spoke, "This asylum has been through many reconstructions, scandals, and disasters but still we stand as a symbol of both justice and humanity as we rehabilitate criminals until they are able to move on to Blackgate Penitentiary. The staff here at Arkham will not tolerate any slander on our faculty or facility by anyone."

Mr. Varner swallowed nervously as the atmosphere in the room grew tense, "Dr. Crane was under investigation by Ms. Revis—"

Mr. Cedar spoke up, "Eh, not true, Varner. Crane was only brought in this mess by that chit cause he supplied the dead cra—" he stopped at sharp look from a stiff Mrs. Carol before resuming, "—inmate wit medicine but nuthin' else. Dr. Oswald, Barker, and Mr. Zoller all have what it takes to do that job but just by chance, this poor bloke gets his name dragged through dirt. It ain't right."

Once more I was appalled by the sudden outburst of support. While I was more than capable of defending myself I found these confessions to be rather amusing.

"Mr. Varner, I have cooperated with the investigation and supplied every piece of information which has been requested yet in the state court any testimony from those with a chronic mental condition such as my patient possesses is deemed invalid. I will gladly extend my assistance to anyone within the investigation if it is needed; however, I will also file a complaint to the state and if the situation permits, a charge of harassment and slander."

The table broke out in applause Mr. Varner seemed to grow redder by the second before he angrily spoke to me while slamming his clipboard to the desk, "You pretentious little—"

"Varner, watch yerself you're about to warrant an arrest for assault," Mr. Cedar drawled out cockily.

He steamed before clutching his clipboard tightly to his chest as he stormed out of the room calling over his shoulder, "Mark my words, the investigation will continue!"

When he was out of earshot the table broke off into different tangents as many prepared to leave yet some paused to chat.

I sighed and capped the spare pen I had been toying with the entire time before I rose. Nevermind this nonsense, I had more important matters to address such as my lack of sleep.

I straightened out my suit, once more noticing the stain, when Mrs. Carol and Dr. Shaw approached me.

"Wonderfully put, Dr. Crane!" Mrs. Carol said as she clasped her wrinkled hands to her bosom. She had a lipstick stain on her dentures and it was most distracting...

"She's right," Dr. Shaw broke off to cough up a bit of phlegm which he tucked into a handkerchief. Who carried handkerchiefs these days? "You held a strong position and defended it well."

I smiled politely, "Thank you but," I cleared my throat slightly so the lies would come easier, "I wouldn't have brought out such a strong argument without your assistance."

Dr. Shaw shook his head causing his curled, white beard (with spittle shining in the light) to shake, "No m'boy, you're not getting off by being modest. Come now, wouldn't you like to leave to dinner? I was about to treat the staff to something nice to celebrate."

His eyes twinkled toward the end but I found myself bored with the conversation already.

I tilted my head slightly, "A celebration?"

Mrs. Carol who was unable to stay out of the limelight for long cut in, "Oh yes Jonathan," my eyebrow twitched at the mention of my first name. The lack of respect was only the salt in the wound created by her illogical presumptions I held any amicable feelings toward her, "After all, the investigation's coming to an end! All that talk up there was a last minute attempt to dig up some dirt but they won't win the case!"

I gave them both a regretful look, "While I apologize for acting the recluse, recently there are quite a few files I must look over about some complications with a patient's medication."

Dr. Shaw looked crestfallen but cleared his throat as he replied in his gruff voice, "That's the honorable thing to, Dr. Crane," he broke off to laugh and playfully elbow Mrs. Carol who glared at him as he jostled her shawl, "I admire you, Dr. Crane. These old bones can't take the strain of working late—isn't that right Mrs. Carol? We're not as young as we used to be."

Mrs. Carol seemed to hold herself higher like a bird who's feathers had been ruffled, "Why Dr. Shaw, I am at a perfectly suitable age—"

"Now Mrs. Carol, you know it's true," at this he reached out and grabbed my shoulder firmly as I fought to not show my revulsion, "Men like Dr. Crane hold the future in their hands," he looked me deep in the eyes as if he was searching for something to validate his words, "Isn't that right, Dr. Crane?"

I met his gaze calmly, "I am but one man, Dr. Shaw, and the future holds promise for many. I hope your night is pleasant...Mrs. Carol, Dr. Shaw."

After paying my respected parting I left to my office, ready to end this day. Nevermind the report I was supposed to file or the paperwork, I would see to that in the morning but right now I only wanted to be free of the metal hell known as Arkham and sleep deeply in my own bed.

Tomorrow would be a bright future with a chance to further my research at the library but for the moment I was content to sleepily drive to my house where I carefully parked in my garage and locked up my house as I made my way to my bedroom, more fatigued than hungry.

Not bothering to do more than shuffle out of my pants, jacket, and sweatervest I dropped on the bed sighing in part relief part pain as my stiff muscles relaxed. Halfheartedly, I tugged off my socks and loosened my tie before slinging that over the edge of my bed. I briefly struggled with the buttons of my shirt until I felt I wouldn't choke in my sleep.

Still awake enough to remember to take off my glasses, I set them aside on the bedside table as I blearily blinked at the clock not able to comprehend the numbers.

Oh well, I would rise sometime tomorrow and then I would worry about my toxin, my patient, the staff of Arkham, and the investigation.

Only taking the effort to maneuver under the covers, I ran a hand through my hair and then stretched out as I drifted into a deep slumber.