'It's hopeless.'

Gabriel buried his face into his hands, sighing deeply. Rochelle, his wife, laid a comforting hand to his back.

'Gabriel…' she tried.

He looked at her, distress clear in his eyes. Almost seven months had passed since his daughter had mysteriously disappeared and it pained him greatly. He was so worried.

'You think she's still alive?' he asked.

Rochelle took a seat beside him. 'As long as a body doesn't turn up…I'm certain they haven't found her yet. Who knows, maybe someone took her', she tried.

'Only to assault her again. I should've known. She takes after her mom', Gabriel sighed.

His wife didn't respond.

'There's just something about Italian women that makes them irresistible. I should know, I married one', he mumbled.

He thought deeply, hating himself for being such a bad father. He had divorced his wife without taking his daughter with him. And by doing so, he had allowed her to be belittled, humiliated, abused and raped. And he called himself a father?

'I'm sure they'll find her. Mr. Smith gave you his word', Rochelle tried.

He rubbed his eyes. 'I sure hope so. I could never forgive myself if she died. If I ever see her again…I will better myself. I will be the father she deserves', he promised.

'I know you will', she smiled beside him.

…

Diana woke up in Jonathan's arms that morning. She sighed into him. He had a day off today. It had been a while and she was glad she had him all to herself.

She laid her head onto his bare chest, yawning. It felt so good to stay with him like this; just to lay together, without having to worry about getting up.

She smiled. In a few days, they'd leave Gotham, for good. She looked forward to that day. She was finally going to leave the city where so much bad stuff had happened.

His hand touched her back. She looked up to him, still smiling.

'Well hello there', he murmured.

She laid her top half on top of him, her legs staying beside his. She caressed his dark hair back, her cheeks warm and rosy.

'Good morning', she whispered back.

He touched her face, skin warming against her cheek. Crane kissed her tenderly, feeling her soft lips part almost instantly for him. He instantly deepened their kiss, smiling inside at his fortune.

'So on a scale from one to ten…how high to you rate the chance of this ending in hot morning sex?'

'Oh shut it…' Crane cursed at his other half, trying to focus on her soft, warm lips.

She would moan very softly into his mouth. He just grinned and slowly pressed her down onto the bed.

He caught her wrists in his grasp, holding them down above her head as he began to grind his growing erection against her.

He noticed how her legs almost immediately parted for him, as soon as she felt him. He parted, to slowly kiss her neck.

'Look at that good little girl. I'm sure she's wet already.'

Crane ignored Scarecrow. He continued to shower her neck in soft kisses. He didn't want to be rough with her. He wanted to tease her slowly and lovingly. He had bruised her up enough.

He kissed the healing bite-mark in her neck. 'Look at you, covered in so many of my marks', he whispered.

He intertwined their fingers, smiling down on her.

'It's okay', she answered.

'She likes it rough. Can I fuck her this time, Johnny?'

'No…I doubt she likes you tearing out her hair and biting down on her skin until she bleeds.'

'You're such a spoilsport Johnny.'

'I can't wait until we get married.'

Her sweet voice drew him out of his inner monologue. Looking at her, his eyes softened. He released her hands to stroke her hair and face.

'Me neither. But you'll only need to wait a little longer, my love. Soon…we can start our new life', he whispered.

She touched his face with both hands. 'I love you so much, Jonathan. I don't know what I'd do without you', she answered.

'I'll never leave you, I promise', he promised.

…

When Bruce Wayne became conscious again, the events at the Narrows came crawling back to him. Crane had gassed him with some sort of hallucinogen. If the doctor was capable of that, what else was he hiding beneath his usual calm and collected demeanor? Was he responsible for Diana O'Connell's disappearance?

He knew the doctor was connected to that police case. Fox had told him everything and it seemed that Crane was hiding something and he wasn't so sure it was just what he had found.

His brown eyes found his trusted butler, stirring a spoon in a glass.

He breathed out, his mind still cloudy. 'How long was I out?' he asked wearily.

'Two days; it's your birthday', Alfred spoke, handing him the glass; 'Many happy returns.'

Bruce sipped his drink, a look of distaste crossing his features. He didn't quite like the taste of the drink. 'I've felt these effects before. But this was so much more potent. It was some kind of hallucinogen, weaponized, in aerosol form', he grumbled, before sipping his drink again.

'You have been hanging around at the wrong clubs, Mr. Wayne'.

Bruce paused on his drink when Fox entered and stopped walking when he got to his bedside. He looked at the elderly man with a slightly dazed and surprised look in his eyes. What was he doing here?

'I called Mr. Fox when your condition started to worsen after the first day', Alfred said.

'I analyzed your blood...isolating the receptor compounds and the protein-based catalyst', Fox explained.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him. 'Am I meant to understand any of that?' he asked.

Fox shook his head. 'Not at all. I just wanted you to know how hard it was', Fox exclaimed.

He sighed. 'Bottom line, I synthesized an antidote', he said.

Bruce lowered his head. 'Could you make more?' he asked.

Fox's expression turned serious. 'You planning on gassing yourself again, Mr. Wayne?' he asked.

Bruce tried to be humorous as he spoke: 'Well, you know how it is, Mr. Fox. You're out at night; looking for kicks...someone's passing around the weaponized hallucinogens...'

'I'll bring what I have; the antidote should inoculate you for now', Fox nodded before walking away. He laid a hand on Alfred's shoulder. 'Alfred, always a pleasure.'

Alfred watched him leave. 'Lucius', he nodded to him.

Bruce bit on his thumb, sighing softly to himself.

…

Rachel Dawes watched Falcone from behind the glass, bound to a gurney, muttering 'Scarecrow' over and over again, with narrowed eyes.

'In here, Dr. Crane.'

She looked up, seeing the said doctor walk towards her.

'Miss Dawes, this is most irregular. I have nothing to add to the report I filed with the judge', he spoke.

'I have questions about your report', she replied sharply. She watched his reaction closely; his face remained unchanged.

'Such as?' he replied.

'Isn't it convenient for a 52-year-old man, with no history of mental illness to suffer a complete psychotic breakdown just when he's about to be indicted?' she wondered, gesturing towards the tormented Falcone.

'Well as you can see for yourself, there's nothing convenient, about his symptoms', Crane shrugged.

Rachel looked at Falcone, whom kept muttering 'Scarecrow', as if he were in a trance. She shivered unwillingly.

'What's Scarecrow?' she asked.

'Patients suffering delusional episodes often focus their paranoia on an external tormentor, usually ones conforming to Jungian archetypes. In this case…a scarecrow', he explained.

Rachel felt a chill of discomfort run down her spine. Something wasn't right; this breakdown came out of nowhere. 'He's drugged', she concluded.

Crane raised an eyebrow. 'Psycho-pharmacology is my primary field; I'm a strong advocate', he paused, glancing at Falcone; 'Outside he was a giant. In here only the mind can grand you power', he finished.

'You enjoy the reversal', Rachel said with disgust.

'I respect the mind's power over the body; it's why I do what I do', he shrugged.

She eased closer. 'I do what I do to keep thugs like Falcone behind bars, not in therapy', she bit back at him, before moving past him.

She went to the elevator.

'I want my psychiatric consultant to have full access to Falcone, including blood work', she pressed the button to open the doors of the elevator; 'I want to know exactly what you put him on.'

Crane joined her side. 'First thing tomorrow then', he answered.

'Tonight', she corrected him; 'I already paged Dr. Lehmann at County General', she said to him, before getting into the elevator.

'As you wish', Crane answered without hesitation.

As the elevator went down, Rachel felt more and more unhinged by Crane's behavior. Something was up. Something bad.

…

'This way please. There is something I think you should see.'

Crane heard her footsteps closely behind her. He tried to contain his smirk. He was about to get rid of her, once and for all.

He pushed open the double doors, leading to the underground laboratory where he had the inmates make his toxin.

'This is where we make the medicine', he spoke. He didn't need to look at her to see her face fall in fear. 'Perhaps you should have some. To clear your head', he spoke calmly to her.

Her hurried footsteps made him realize she was running away.

He sighed, deciding to go after her.

When he found her at the elevator, he had already donned his mask. She looked at him in panic. Her eyes pleaded with him to spare her. He wouldn't.

He shot out his toxin, watching her scream, while it took its effect on her. She couldn't escape now.

…

His thugs placed Miss Dawes onto a table. She kept looking around her, shaking her head wildly, uncontrolled fear in her eyes.

'Who knows you're here?' he asked darkly.

She didn't answer; she kept twisting in fear, unable to form a decent sentence, or even speak, for that matter.

'Who knows?!' he thundered.

She screamed. Immediately, the lights went off.

Crane looked up, almost gleefully. He pulled off the mask and ran a hand through his hair. An amused smirk ran across his lips. 'He's here', he grinned.

'Who?'

'The Batman', Crane drawled out.

'What do we do?'

'What anyone does when a prowler comes around…call the police', he told one of his thugs.

'You want the cops here?' the man asked.

Jonathan licked his lips. 'At this point they can't stop us…but the Batman has a talent for disruption…force him outside and the police will him down.'

'What about her?' one of his men asked as he pointed at the distressed lawyer.

He looked down on her, her struggling dying down slowly. She wouldn't make it.

'She hasn't got long. I gave her a concentrated dose. The mind can only take so much', Crane cruelly spoke; 'Now; go!'

'The things they say about him…can he really fly?'

'I heard he can disappear.'

Crane looked up to the ceiling, fascinated.

'I guess we'll find out…won't we?' he asked.

When the Batman jumped down, he put his mask back on, and went to hide, watching his thugs get beaten up, and flown across the room.

At some point, Crane thought to deliver a strike to the masked vigilante and jumped out of his hiding-place. The Batman grabbed his arm, overpowering him, and pulling off his mask, only to pull his head back by his hair.

Batman looked down on the doctor. 'Taste of your own medicine, doctor?' he grumbled.

With that, he shot the toxin into the doctor's face, crushing the remainders of his sanity.

'Who are you working for?' Batman growled.

Crane's eyes widened with fear. 'Ra's….Ra's Al Ghul', he whispered.

'Ra's Al Ghul is dead. Who are you working for? Crane?' Batman hissed.

Crane's eyes remained on him, widened in fear. His pupils grew larger and his eyes darkened. The toxin he had once created … now destroyed his mind.

'Dr. Crane isn't here right now…but if you would like to make an appointment', he spoke softly.

Bruce hissed under his breath, throwing Crane onto the ground. The former doctor would be nothing but a psychopath now.

Sighing, he hoped Gordon was among the cops outside. He really needed someone to look into whether Crane was a kidnapper or not.

…

Police had gathered outside of the Asylum. Flass looked to them as he got out of his car, as did Gordon and Liam.

'What are you waiting for?' Flass asked.

'Backup.'

'Backup?' Flass scoffed.

'The Batman's in there. SWAT's are on their way. But if you want to go in now…I'll be right behind you, sir', spoke a fellow police man.

Gordon looked on to the Asylum. He knew the Batman tried to help. He wasn't a criminal.

'SWAT's on their way', Flass shrugged, like the coward he was.

'Jim?'

Gordon took out his gun and went in before the others could stop him.

Liam gritted his teeth. He went in after him, despite the others calling him to come back. If this was Crane's asylum, he was pretty sure the latter was involved. He would find out either way.

…

Liam found the doctor, unconscious, in an underground laboratory. He looked around him, spotting barrels around a burst water-pipe. What in the hell had he been up to?

He went towards the doctor, gripping him by his collar. 'Wake up, you piece of shit!' he snarled.

The man beneath him became conscious, but no sanity was found on his face.

'What the hell have you been doing here?' Liam hissed.

The former doctor only grinned. 'You can't stop it. Fear will consume this city', he smirked, twisted glee in his eyes.

Liam tightened his grip on the other man's collar. 'Where's Diana? I know you took her. Where the hell is she?!' he practically yelled.

'You'll never find her. She's all mine', his smirk only grew; 'I fucked her raw…she kept begging for more…' he laughed.

'Liam, you won't get any sensible answers out of him.'

He looked up at Gordon's voice. Several police officers went to him, picking up Crane and carrying him away.

'Mark my words, Mr. Smith! You can never have her!' Crane called after him.

'Oh shut it, nutcase.'

Liam crossed his arms as Gordon came over to him. 'Seems I was right about Crane', he scoffed.

Gordon laid a hand on his shoulder. 'You should take a few officers and check on Crane's apartment. Just in case', he instructed.

Liam nodded. 'Yes, sir', he answered.

…

I always hate writing this xD but I have no choice!

Lots of love,

~TheOneWithTooManyInterests