AN: In all fairness, he probably meant well…at first. However, the video game adaptation of Begins (Not bad. Not Arkham Asylum, but not bad.) has him setting patients on you. Really? I check in for treatment and you set me on the Batman. The hell, Dr. Crane. Seriously.

Johanna Crane-Eaten? EATEN? What did they do! Jonathan... Eaten, Kitty! Go to the lab for a little while, you'll feel better. I'll feel better when the idiot responsible is shrieking in terror.

Christineoftheopera-Did you now?

"Shh, shh. It'll all be over soon, and then you can go home."

She was, really, one of the more harmless patients. She was more of a danger to herself than to others, having knocked herself unconscious to escape 'the nightmare man' in her room. Of course, this was after having pushed her father down the stairs…he suspected guilt was at the root of her hallucinations.

No matter. That would be dealt with soon enough. He had the formula fixed now, and she wasn't an old woman. She should be able to withstand the treatment.

He checked the straps-no need to have her hurting herself, after all. They should hold her. This was the electroshock table, it was built for restraint.

"Please…"

"This is a cure." he stressed. "Don't you want to go home?"

"Dr. Crane…"

"It'll be fine."

"Please…" she whimpered. "Please, I don't want…"

They never did. But they were sick, they didn't realise it was in their best interests.

"It's for your own good."

She tried to grasp his fingers when he checked the straps one last time and he moved away.

"Deep breaths, Abby." he whispered. "Deep breaths, and tell me what you see."

She was sobbing, but at least she'd stopped trying to get away. She was still tense, however, and it took him a minute to get the needle in her elbow.

Perhaps he'd see about an inhaler…once he got the gas straightened out…

It took longer than he'd hoped for the stuff to take effect-he'd have to work on that-and at first he thought it wasn't going to work. But then he picked up on the more subtle signs-quick, shallow breathing and a valiant attempt to hold still.

"That's good." he breathed. "Very good…don't fight it, Abby. This is going to help."

Her sobs had quieted, leaving her face shiny and sticky-looking. Ugh. He would never understand people's idea that they looked 'cute' when they cried. That made no sense.

"No, no…"

If she was going to fight it, it wasn't going to help. She needed to face her fears, not run away.

He took a moment to jot down the more important things-time it took to work, current (disappointing) reaction.

I'll make her react, Jonny.

You'll endanger the entire treatment. No.

I'll help. You know I'll help.

No, Scarecrow.

LET ME HELP.

Scarecrow, no-!

Scarecrow removed the glasses-he needed them, but they were ridiculous. Besides, he didn't really need to see, not down here. He just needed to hear. Now, where was his face…ah! Right where he'd left it.

"Hello, Abby." He put his hands on the table and loomed over her. "How are you tonight?"

And then she screamed-long and loud, enough to put Fay Wray to shame. Beautiful.

Scarecrow, that's enough!

Pfft. Jonny had no sense of fun, that was all.

"That's it." He reached over, pushed sweaty hair off her face. "Scream. Scream like your life depends on it, sweetheart…because it does."

She jerked upwards, straining against the straps, before going completely limp.

I swear to god, if I have to get rid of another body…

Look and see.

Jonathan pulled the mask off, trying to get his breathing under control. She wasn't dead-she was gasping and her lips were moving.

"Scarecrow…"

Now look what you've done.

What did I do?

You broke my patient, is what you did! She'll never recover now.

Don't pretend you're on that high moral ground, Doctor. Scarecrow snarled. We both know you enjoyed it.

I-

If you didn't want it, you'd have fought me off. Admit it, Jonny.

Don't call me that.

Scarecrow laughed and he felt him melt away, retreating to his dark little corner. He became aware that he was still holding that wretched mask.

Such a simple thing. Burlap, badly stitched together with eye holes burned into it. Ugly and rather silly in broad daylight. But down here, in the dark…unsettling.

He scrunched it up and threw it aside, watching it vanish into a shadowy corner.

You won't get rid of me that easily, Jonny.

Watch me.

You need me. You need what I can give you, and you know it. You're NOTHING without me.

He ignored the voice and set about unstrapping the girl. Nervous breakdown, he decided. A reaction to the new medication, maybe…yes, that would be acceptable.

Next time he came down here, he'd be taking the medication beforehand. He couldn't, wouldn't risk this again.

Ever.

THE END