Chapter 10

- Re-acquaintance With The Crane -

"Group, I'd like to introduce Jane, a patient of mine from upstairs", Dr. Crane said.

Looking at the circle assembled around her, Jane realized the difference between this group and the first she'd attended; in a word, insanity. These gathered here today were genuinely…ill. Every one of them appeared tightly wound, except Angie. She stared with her big brown doe eyes at the doctor, absently twirling a strand of her dark hair. He remained unmoved.

Jane regarded Crane warily; luckily, he didn't seem to be paying any special attention to her yet today, aside from the introduction. She hoped it stayed that way, watching as he quietly spoke to another patient. His demeanor was pleasant, but detached. Better than the last time she'd seen him.

"Jane", he said, dashing her hopes as he turned his gaze upon her. "Would you like to share your circumstances? How you came to be here, I mean."

She was tempted to recount her story about Gotham's ludicrous judicial system, not to mention her not-at-all trustworthy doctor, but she managed to restrain herself in time. She doubted that it was what Crane wanted to hear.

"Well," she started carefully, "about two months ago, I was walking home from work when a man approached me. He attacked-"

"Can you describe the man, Jane?" he interrupted.

"Sure", she replied, hesitant. "Uh, I guess he was about…your height. Thin…" she swallowed, suddenly finding her throat dry. "He had…blue eyes."

Dr. Crane blinked in surprise. "You remember his eyes? That's very…good." He'd thought for a moment about the last word, finally settling on 'good'. Something about the way he said it made Jane think that perhaps, for him, it wasn't.

"Yes," she answered, unsure of the effect it would have on him. "I do remember."

He continued to stare at her for some time, finally smiling slightly; to reassure her, no doubt. He turned back to the group, intending to ask another general question. Angie interrupted him this time.

"What was he wearing?" she asked Jane.

"Oh, I don't really…it was dark. He was wearing dark clothes. And…something else, something weird about his face." She sighed, frustrated. Looking up at the girl, almost feeling for the moment that they were having a private conversation, she said, "I don't know. I don't remember, it's like a hazy nightmare."

"That often happens after a trauma such as yours", Crane offered, reminding her of his presence. "Memory shuts down, to protect one from one's fear. It would do you a world of good to confront that, Jane."

"Yeah", she answered hollowly. "I wish I could remember…what's really going on."

"We're just trying to help you." He again turned to the circle, many of whom were inexplicably shaking, avoiding the doctor's eyes. "Everyone here today has an issue regarding fear and phobia. In your cases, it has been so severe they've led you to commit violent crimes. The first step to overcoming this – to getting out of here, healthy – is to share. Confide."

He wasn't looking at her anymore, thankfully, but Jane could still see his all-too familiar sadistic glimmer. I'm afraid of you, doctor. But you like that, don't you?

This brought up a certain optimism for Jane, but at the moment she couldn't imagine how. She doubted she'd be able to fake 'recovery' well enough for him to stop his extreme treatment of her. As she attempted to push her hopelessness down for just a little while longer, Crane went on to the group, encouraging them in ways an outsider would have believed sincere; looking around, Jane knew that no one in the room bought that story anymore.

"Jon, what are you afraid of?"

Who else could that be; Crane turned to Angie, seated beside him, with an air of temperance. "Angel, we've had this conversation before. Please address me as Doctor Crane."

She smiled wickedly; it wasan expressionJane hadn't seen since she'd watched daytime television at home.

"I know, the one about professional relationship, blah blah. Okay; I will call you my doctor-" she said the word in a slightly salacious tone – "if you call me your Angel."

Crane dropped his gaze and sighed. Although, Jane noted in fascination, he did not blush.

"Angel. You are no more mine than any of your peersare. You are all my patients; that is the extent of all of our relationships. Alright?"

Angie just smiled, halfway between vacant and unsettling.

"Well, our time is nearly up for now", Crane said. "Does anyone have any questions?"

Angie raised her hand. Jane wondered if the look that crossed the doctor's face would qualify as a mild form of fear.

"Yes, Angel?"

"Didn't you used to teach at Gotham University?"

That must have been for Jane's benefit; she saw none of her surprise echoed in the faces of the others. Crane gritted his teeth, almost imperceptibly.

"Why don't you teach now?" Angie continued. "Do you just like our company?"

For a second, Jane thought she saw the doctor's resolve to remain untouchable nearly falter. He'd risen from his seat already; the hand holding his briefcase tightened until the handle creaked and his knuckles whitened. He snapped out of his fugue, clearing his head with a nod.

"I'm not the focus of our time together, Angel."

She giggled; Jane suddenly wished she had an ounce of her confidence. "Oh, you are for me, doctor."

As Jane sat dumbstruck by Angie's gall, the other patients rose and filed out of the dingy little room like zombies heeding the call of fresh brains. Angel herself stood, and Jane followed her lead as she made her way toward their own orderlies. Jane almost expected Angie to blow a kiss to him; she just smiled flirtatiously and walked away. She was stopped at the last second by the object of her affection.

"I'll be looking forward to resuming our private sessions, Angel."

At that, Jane thought she saw a crack appear in the girl's infatuated veneer. She stopped for a second, and her smile nearly vanished. She forced a chuckle, and answered without turning back to face him.

"Oh. Me too, Doc."

Jane stood uncertainly between the two; Crane caught her looking at him and smiled.

"That goes for you as well, Jane. You haven't scared me off." He took a step towards her, and though he was across the room, she instinctively backed up. He snickered and spoke in confidence nonetheless. "I can't wait to continue in our therapy."

Jane froze for a second; then, she heard Angie hiss at her, and she broke free of his hypnotic stare. She left, feeling rescued, for the time being; but, deep in her fearful mind, some negative part of her whispered that she'd never see the sane sun again. Arkham, Crane, and 'therapy' would be the death of her.

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A note from your loving Not Human:

It's not what it looks like, folks. Those of you who may start to think Angie's lookin like a good girlfriend sort for Crane, I mean. Just remember, we are in a mental asylum now; not everyone there can be completely sane, can they? Well, debatable, in Arkham's case, but still. Take Angie with a grain of salt, I say. And do let me know what you think! I will love you forever if you do.

- nH