Summery: Jonathan Crane is hired by someone completely different this time. The goal is to make Gotham safe for criminals once and for all. To do so he kidnaps cops' kid's, including one intriging teenager, to blackmail them and Rachel Dawes to draw Batman to his death. Will it work or will this be the end of Scarecrow?
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Insanity is something to be marveled at, not trampled with medications. At least that's how Jonathon Crane saw it. Why should those who have insight into our primitive workings be silenced? So much good could come out of madness. He should know. After recovering from a nearly lethal dose of his own hallucinogen Dr. Crane was well aware of the benefits that insanity holds. In his short stint as insane he gathered enough information to write a book about it. Not that he hadn't had enough information before, of course.
Besides the information about insanity, Jonathon had come across another bit of knowledge that would prove very useful to his next scheme. He was going to make Gotham City safe for criminals once again. The sum of money he was receiving for this task was so large he doubted if he could spend it all even if he tried, but research was expensive, and his passion.
Crane knew that the Batman would be an annoyance but this new information would take care of that easily. He had discovered who the Batman was: Bruce Wayne. Gotham's prodigal son some would say.
He allowed himself a small smile as he watched a woman in a business suit walk up the stair to Arkham Asylum. Perfect, he thought. She was flanked by several police officers but they bent to his wishes now. After the kidnapping of a child, anybody became pliable. He held them not for ransom, but for insurance that they wouldn't back out of their deal. He took the prison overflow and they gave his establishment an inspection-free time.
The woman was none other than Rachel Dawes, a very pesky employee of the DA's office who Jonathon had butted heads with in the past. In fact the last time she was here she had been under the effects of his hallucinogenic gas. That had been fun. She thought she was here to gather evidence for a case against him, should he ever reappear.
He turned away from the window of his office and sat down at his desk. It was immaculate, as was the rest of his office. He liked to keep things clean and neat. Once he had even self-diagnosed himself with OCD but no, his neatness did not interfere with his life; it aided it. It kept his research neat, his files organized, and his life simple.
There was a scream and sounds of a small struggle before the door to his office burst open and Ms. Dawes was hauled in by a cop on each side. Crane grinned as they threw her down onto the chair on the other side of his desk. She struggled but each officer firmly placed a hand on her shoulders to keep her seated.
"Ms. Dawes, I wish I could say I was pleasantly surprised to see you but I'm not," he said flat and without emotion. He folded his hands on the desk in front of him before adding, "Well, at least I'm not surprised." She squirmed at that.
"Dr. Crane," she coolly greeted. "I must say I've got to hand it to you. Bribing the cops to lure me here. I suppose this is the part where you tell me I won't be meddling in your affairs any longer?" The sarcasm was a cover for her fear and they both knew it. Rachel thought he was going to kill her. She was right, but he had other things to do first.
"Your assumption hurts me. Why would I stoop to using clichés to threaten you when I could have simply had you killed already?" He paused, adjusting his glasses. "No, for the moment you will live, but only as long as you're useful. Then I'll kill you since you seem so eager for that to happen."
"And just why am I useful?" she spat. In response Jonathon waved the cops away and they left, shutting the door on the way out. Rachel looked nervously around and then back at Crane.
"You have of course heard of this Batman," he stated plainly. She nodded and Crane stood and paced around behind her. She tried to keep him sight but he redirected her head to face forward with one hand. Her breath caught in her throat. Leaning over her shoulder he could almost smell her fear and he loved it. Gently he spoke into her ear as though he was speaking to a child. "I have reason to believe that he won't want you to come to harm."
"He doesn't want any citizen of Gotham to be hurt," she managed to whisper, leaning away from Jonathon's face. He couldn't know. It's not possible. He laughed but there was not joy behind it. There was pure insanity. Walking around to face her he crouched down so they were at eye level and placed his hands on the chair's armrests.
"Come now, Rachel," she winced at his casual use of her name. "We're both intelligent, reasonable adults here." Oh, yes, she thought. Insane doctors are most reasonable. "Allow me to be blunt. You are valuable to me because you are valuable to Batman, or should I say Bruce Wayne?" He grinned, enjoying the struggle on her face not to give away that she knew.
"I don't know –"
"What I'm talking about?" he finished for her. "I think you do. Remember, I'm a psychiatrist. I'm trained to be able to tell when someone is lying and you, Ms. Dawes, are a terrible liar."
There was a long silence in which they studied each other's faces for some sign of a weakness. "Very well. Your point has been made." Rachel took a deep breath before continuing. "What makes you think Bruce Wayne will care about me?"
"He has proven my theory already when he came to your rescue before." He stood and turned away from her to look out the window over Gotham. She took her cue and kicked out his knees with her high heels. He buckled and she ran for the door, almost making it there before a security guard opened the door and grabbed her, stopping her escape.
Jonathon pushed himself up using the desk. Pulling off his glasses he brushed his dark hair back out of his eyes. "Put her down with the children. I'm sure she can find some sympathy there." He watched the guard haul Rachel out as she shot him a dirty glare. He met it with his own icy blue glare and did not turn away until the door had closed behind them.
Sitting down at his desk he picked up a legal pad and jotted some notes.
Hostile to authority figuresHides anger and fear moderately well but cannot lie
It was the beginning of his research into this fascinating girl. He didn't have long. Soon he would need to kill her, but until then she would be an interesting case study. He added her name to his mental list of intelligent patients. The only other name on the list was Christine Fellmen, the 16-year-old daughter of Michael Fellmen, one of the members of Gotham's police force.
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Christine sat with her back against the wall, watching the other kids. She was the oldest by at least 9 years making her the only one not oblivious to their situation. It became clear to her the first time Dr. Crane had visited them why they were here. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back allowing memories to flood her mind.
His lab coat was stark white, as was everything else in the room, from the 8 cots to the ceiling. "Hello, there," he said to all of them, voice falsely sweet. She recognized his face from the newspapers. Standing she ignored the several kids grabbing her legs.
"Let us go," she had demanded. Her long black hair hung down strait into her eyes and without a thought she brushed it behind her ear.
"Christine, isn't it?" he asked politely. "There's no need to alarm the children. Certainly you must know that they won't be harmed." He stepped towards her casually.
"Yes it is Christine. And you must be Dr. Crane," she said trying to keep her tone light to not, as he had said, alarm the children. "I've heard of your work rehabilitating criminals. Just what interest would you have in us?"
"It's really not you that interests me," he told her, eyes watching the various children. "But let's not talk about it now. I brought some toys for everyone." A guard came in with a large bag, which he set on the ground next to Dr. Crane. The ignorant kids flocked to it and spilled its contents on the ground, happy to play without a care.
Christine followed slowly, watching from a distance. Dr. Crane walked to stand by her side. Unconsciously she stepped away. He smiled.
"I know you're not as stupid as they are," he quietly spoke to her. "But I also know that if you try to do anything disruptive it wouldn't be good for the children's health."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, near to tears in her anger. She turned so she was facing him and he did the same. "They're only kids."
"Yes and you're only an innocent teenager," he mocked. "Life isn't fair. It's not your fault that your father chose the profession that he did but now here you are."
"So that's it. You're blackmailing police officers by kidnapping their kids?" She glanced at the children, not aware of their circumstances. "You're a sick freak," she spat.
" So I've been told, but they haven't proved it yet," he grinned. Walking away he knelt down to talk with a child around 4. The boy smiled at him and Crane continued to the door sparing only a glance back at Christine whose eyes hadn't left him.
Opening her eyes she saw the door open but it wasn't Dr. Crane this time. A young woman in her mid 20's was shoved in. She had wavy brown hair and wore a business suit. A glimmer of hope flashed in Christine.
Rachel looked around, still furious. She was in a room with 7 kids and a teenager. There were cots lined up against the walls and a pile of toys in the middle of the room. The children were crawling over it and hardly noticed her arrival. One who did turned to the teenager in the back and said, "Look, Christine! A new friend!"
Christine had already seen her and was making her way to the woman. "Tell me you're here to get us out," she pleaded.
"Unfortunately it looks like I'm the newest addition," the woman sighed. "My name is Rachel Dawes, I work for the DA."
"I'm Christine Fellmen. My father is a police officer. Come on and sit down, you look like you've had a rough day." Christine led Rachel to sit on one of the cots. There they exchanged stories and information about the events thus far.
"So he's going to kill Batman?" Christine asked, vaguely amused.
"He's going to lure him here using me and then kill him, and then kill me." Rachel looked around nervously, a bad habit of hers.
"Can he be killed?" Christine wondered aloud.
"He's only human," Rachel told her. "The greatest gift and curse of humanity is mortality."