A.N. Well thanks again to my loyal reviewers, that would be quicksilver2402004, who I believe has reviewed all of the chapter except 5 (Bravo, award goes to you), and Blodeuedd, who does an amazing job reviewing (Thank you very much!). Here is the next chapter. I'm still not sure I like the way this story is going. I know how I want to end it I'm just having trouble getting from here to there. Well, I hope you enjoy, as always. I remain your lo-ve-lee author!

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There was an eerie silence over Arkham Asylum that morning. The whole world seemingly held its breath and watched as Dr. Jonathan Crane entered his workplace for another long day. Today was not just another day, though. Today he was going to begin testing his newest theory for keeping Scarecrow at bay: sticking by Christine. It would be a hard one, no doubt. The girl hated him with a passion and nothing he did would convince her to trust him. Nonetheless, he was getting down to his last ideas and this was the latest in a string of somewhat desperate attempts.

Upon entering the building he headed strait for his office to pick up any notices that might have filtered in during the night. There was one or two stating patients had caused disturbances but that wasn't all too unusual. Dropping his briefcase on his desk Jonathan pulled off his suit coat and pulled on a lab coat. Then, grabbing a yellow legal pad and a pen, he departed for the room housing the children.

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Christine was playing Go Fish with Emily, Tony, Justin, and Charlie. Mike had been sent home yesterday and now it was just the five of them. Before too long Christine knew she would be the only one left here in hell. As far as she knew her father had yet to fulfill any, let alone all of Crane's demands and had no plans of doing so any time soon.

That was ok, though. She had a plan, a devilish plan, one that would require flawless acting and a little cooperation on Jonathan's part. As long as he bought it hook, line, and sinker, then maybe, just maybe, Christine could get herself out of this mess. She would need to be patient. Rushing this plan would only make Crane suspicious and that was the last thing she needed.

The door opened and interrupted her thoughts. In walked Dr. Crane followed by the food cart. Giving Jonathan a weak smile Christine stood and passed out the trays. Each child took it and muttered a thank you. Sitting down with her own tray Christine did not retreat to her bed, as was her practice of late, but rather stayed and chatted with the kids. Crane took a seat on the floor between Tony and Justin, opposite Christine. He noticed her change in behavior and wondered why.

"What were you guys playing?" he asked Emily.

"Go Fish," she innocently answered. "Christine was beating all of us!" Jonathan smiled at Christine who met his eyes only a moment and then went back to eating. Something has changed, he thought. But what? He pondered this as he continued making small talk with the kids. Once they had all finished he watched them go back to playing. Christine stood up and walked over to where Crane was making notes.

"I'm sorry," she told him, eyes on the ground. Glancing up into his eyes she kept her hands clasped in front of her.

"For what?" he asked confused. His mind was trying to figure out just what was different about this girl.

"I shouldn't have blamed you for this," she gestured at her stomach. "It wasn't you and I know that." Let this sound sincere, she pleaded with whatever god was listening.

"Oh." Jonathan was speechless. The girl looked and sounded honest but he still had reservations. "Why the sudden change of heart?" His voice held a note of sarcasm in it as though he was sure this was just a show.

"You wouldn't understand," she said looking away. Her voice was regretful and he bought it just as he should.

"Try me. Being a psychiatrist I'm sure I've heard crazier things." Jonathan's eyes were analyzing her every move and by the way she was acting he had an idea, just one.

"It's just," she paused, sighing. "I just think that I should at least forgive you of that. I feel bad for not accepting your apology. That wasn't you." Christine met his eyes and looked away again. Please let this look real! she begged.

Jonathan waited before replying. Perhaps she is being honest, he wondered. But probably not. Either way with this new attitude she may be willing to help me. With a small grin he told her of his new plan to control his other personality. Christine listened and looked interested. "So would you be willing to help?" he asked hopeful.

Christine smiled. "If it will rid me of that monster? Yes." She was happy with how honest she sounded. In reality spending more time with Crane sounded about as appealing as spending time with an angry pit viper. The only reason she went along with his little plan was because, ironically enough, it would help her little plan as well. She knew very well that Crane would try to blame more than was due on his alter ego but she could tell the difference. It was in the eyes.

"Great," Jonathan replied with little emotion. "Well I have to be making rounds so if you'll come along." Once they were in the hall he turned to her. "I hope I still don't need to warn you about running away." His voice was cordial but his meaning was clear.

"I will not run away as long as you promise not to hurt me," she told him. Her eyes met his and he saw a spark there.

"You know I can't do that."

"I said as long as you promise. I won't hold you accountable for what he does," she said, making it perfectly clear who he was.

"Very well. I promise not to hurt you." He might have meant it but Christine couldn't be sure. With that settled the two walked down the hall to the elevator.

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The previous night

Bring, bring! The phone sitting on the desk rang out its evil tune. The man sitting there ignored it until the last possible moment.

"Fellman," he answered gruffly. His voice had grown gravely from years of shouting.

"Mr. Fellman," the cool voice answered. "How good it is to speak with you again." Michael knew immediately who it was and why they were calling.

"What do you want, Crane?" he demanded.

"I'm not sure I like that tone," Jonathan told him with an air of authority. "Be careful lest you harm that which you hold dear."

"What do you want?" Michael repeated. He was in no mood to play mind games with the psycho today, especially when Crane still held his daughter, Christine.

"I simply wanted to show you something that might change your mind." Jonathan was grinning on the other end, thinking that perhaps the man would finally listen to his threats now that they were no longer empty. "Open your desk drawer, the bottom one on the left side." Suspicious, Michael slowly did as he was told, checking all the while for traps. Opening the drawer he nearly gasped at what he saw there but held it in, covering it with anger.

"You bastard!" he whispered in a dangerous tone.

"I thought that might change your mind," Jonathan smirked. "Are you ready to listen now?" I have him right where I want him, he thought. He was wrong.

"Go to hell," Michael told him. "You will never own me or Christine." He slammed down the phone and, cursing loudly, kicked his desk. Bending over he picked up what lay in the drawer.

It was a picture, not a very good one at that. It showed a girl lying down, shirt pulled up to reveal her stomach, and on her stomach was carved the letters SC. Michael had no idea what that meant but he did recognize the girl. Christine.

The phone rang again and he picked it up, yelling, "What!"

There was a stunned silence before a small voice said, "He has her."

"What do you mean?" Michael was listening now and wondering what they were talking about.

"Your daughter," the voice told him. Michael sat up strait.

"Who is this?"

"Someone who knows what you're going through and what you're up against." The person on the other end was waiting for a response but when none came they continued. "If you want our help we'd be happy to meet with you."

Michael considered the words. Whoever this person was it could just be a façade, a game. They could just be messing with his head, but he was willing to risk it. "Name the place and time."

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Christine watched patiently as Dr. Crane went around to every single patient in turn. Most of the ones here now were criminals, either having escaped Arkham before or having been placed in there since. Currently Jonathan was talking to one in particular, a Mr. Ty.

"So your violent urges have decreased since taking this new medication?" he asked, pen scratching away at his note pad. The Asian man sitting across a table from him glanced at Christine, who stood in the corner of the white room.

"Oh yeah, Doc," the man replied. "I feel so calm now, no anger at all." He grinned and winked at Christine who rolled her eyes. "See, like I don't even wanna choke that bh for rolling her eyes. I'm a new man." Jonathan looked at the man with a warning look on his face, one that Christine missed because his back was to her.

"Wonderful, Mr. Ty," he told the man. "You're making great progress." Standing he walked towards the door. "I'll check back later." Crane held the door for Christine, who walked through it, and then shut and locked it behind him. "That's all for now," he told Christine, coming up level with her.

"So what next?" she wondered out loud. So far shadowing Jonathan hadn't been too terrible. He was mostly absorbed with taking notes on all of his patients, most of who would leave in a year or so for crimes such as murder, rape, torture, etc. That disgusted Christine more than anything. Crane knew these people were perfectly sane criminals who deserved to go to jail. The only thing that kept her from starting an argument with him over it was her plan. She needed him to believe she was not acting and if she burst out like that he would know without a doubt.

"Well," he said, checking his watch, "I would say it's time for lunch which means a trip to the kids." With that they headed for the elevator once more. Jonathan was very proud of himself, not too unusual a state for him. So far he had spent four hours with Christine and Scarecrow had yet to rear his ugly head. Oh he was there, just under the surface, waiting for the best moment to reappear, but for now, the girl was safe.

"And after lunch?" Christine asked.

Jonathan grinned while the doors were closing. "We shall see."