Next chapter. Still don't own anything. –Masked Men

Crane woke up in a bed. The light was coming through his windows, unobtrusively peeking through the sheer curtains. He swallowed and moved his head to the side, feeling a large and, well, fluffy pillow framing his face on all sides. He moved to stretch his arms over his head, when he felt his arm bound tightly to his side.

"So", a refined British accent cut the silence.

"Sleeping Beauty has awoke. Brought home by the prince in shinning black armor, himself."

"What's your name?".

"Alfred", came the reply. "I've been Master Bruce's shadow since he was but a boy. I can also be a completely independent force to be reckoned with Mr. Crane, so, please. Do not cause Master Bruce anymore trouble than you have, or I shall have no second thoughts about turning you into the police. It will take some work, but there are ways to convince them that your young, promising mind has been tragically lost in the throes of insanity. They won't believe a word you say."

Crane looked startled.

"However", he continued, "That takes a lot of time and money to draw up proof, so as of late, Master Bruce has placed you under house arrest. Perhaps with your ample time, you can write a thank you letter to Lucius Fox with your good arm. He was the chap that patched your shoulder up. Can I get you something to drink?"

Jonathan's throat felt like sandpaper, the walls of his esophagus sticking together, almost gagging him. "Water", he rasped.

Alfred smiled and bent at the waist a bit. "On it." He hustled out of the room, leaving Dr. Crane to his uncertainty, and musings. Why was he here? What did Bruce want? Clearly, in Gotham, kindness was always married to ulterior motives.

Part II

Crane heard footsteps come up the stairs, some whispering, and the door creak open. There, behind it, was a very powerful, and extremely stern Bruce Wayne. Jonathan couldn't help but sink back into the pillows a bit, being in such a vulnerable state. Secretly, Bruce was delighted at this gesture, doubling as a sign that the good doctor was ready to cooperate.

"What Alfred told you was half true…", Bruce sat cross-legged in a chair. "I'm keeping you under house arrest. Don't think for a second that it's for fear of blackmail, or even out of the kindness of my own heart. I spend my nights scraping scum like you off the streets. You have crucial information."

Bruce took a breath, enjoying reading Crane's puzzlement like an open book with notes in the margins.

"Ra's al Ghul.", Bruce let each syllable linger and resound. Jonathan flinched. The name. That name.

"He's dead. Dead. Very dead…the train. You know that better than anyone, Bruce". Bruce got up, starting to stroll back and forth nonchalantly.

"Dr. Crane. What are we to do with you? Now, you know about…him. Unnatural man, supernatural methods…he's in someone else's body."

Jonathan laughed out loud.

"Possession? You've got to be kidding me. You've fell off of one too many sky scrapers. He was sneaky, alright…but, Jesus. Don't be telling me ghost stories, that's what got your parents killed. Ghosts of dreams. Spooks. Haunts. They're dead ideas. If they ever existed in the first place."

Bruce rounded on Crane.

"My parents did a hell of a lot for this city, and I'm not going to let an asshole like you undermine their efforts."

Bruce's eyes were wild, and Crane somehow, got a pleasure out of seeing the boy so flushed, so worked up.

Come to think of it, that's why he got into the business in the first place.

It was a wonderful place for the introverted boy to study men, examine men, and eventually, play God; inevitably and irreversibly mind-fucking these men to their dying day. It was all about power and control…the kind he was holding over Bruce Wayne at the moment.

Bruce kept himself in check though, seeing the blatant heat, and lust radiating from Jonathan's eyes…that smirk that caused that… feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The same kind he got when Rachel smirked in triumph when they were kids.

The kind that made him want to rip them from limb to limb, the kind that made his face burn…the kind that made his heart melt all over his insides and want to patch the gorgeously constructed forms back together, using searing kisses for seams.

"I know you can feel him. I feel him too. Every scar, every mended bone, every shadow. Ra's. If he comes back, he'll kill you too. You failed, doctor. You and I. We need to find him."

Crane knew everything that Bruce said was true. He could find Ra's in everything.

Most of all, Bruce. Bruce Wayne, Ra's al Ghul's greatest student, greatest betrayer, greatest teacher, and greatest love.