Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.

2 Days Later

"You've got to be kidding me". Vanessa looked at the room that she would be calling home for the next week at the very least. The walls were the most depressing shade of beige she'd ever seen in her life. The floors were hard wood, correction, old, rotting hard wood. She had her own sink and what she hoped was a rust covered toilet in one corner of the room and a small cot in the other. A single barred window allowed her a breathtaking view of the asylum's parking lot.

"It may not be much but at least it's clean." The orderly said cheerfully.

"Yeah? That mold growing around the base of the sink, that's clean is it? At least I can synthesize some penicillin should the need arise."

Before the orderly could respond Dr. Crane entered the room.

"Ah Mrs. Martinez. It's so nice to see you again. You're looking well. I brought you some fresh blankets and a change of clothes."

That change of clothes appeared to be a beige long sleeved t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. At least she color coordinated with her room now. Vanessa accepted the bundle from him graciously. During the process her fingers brushed against his. She could see him stiffen instantly at the unexpected contact before relaxing almost as quickly. She didn't know quite what to make of the good doctor. True, he had shown her nothing but kindness since the moment they'd first met but something about him seemed off. It was as if she were watching a man going through the motions of everyday life. His smile and day-to-day interactions with the hospital staff felt forced to her. There was more to this man than meets the eye and something about him that made her uneasy. On the other hand, could she really be a good judge of character in her present state? She could barely keep a handle on herself as of late let alone try to analyze him.

"How long do I have to stay here Dr. Crane?"

"I can't give you an exact time frame I'm afraid. We'll see how your therapy sessions go this week. When I'm confident that you're coping well and aren't a danger to yourself then we can start meeting on an out-patient basis."

"When do my therapy sessions begin?" she asked.

"Well, are you busy now?" A smirk crossed his handsome face. Vanessa was relieved that he had at least made an attempt at humor. Maybe he was human after all?

"I'll clear my schedule this time but only because it's you Dr. Crane."

"Very well, let's talk in my office then shall we?"

Following his lead out of her beige coated room they made their way down the stark white hallways of the asylum and entered his equally white, equally bare office. Vanessa did note that his hardwood floor was new. No mold would be found in this room of that she was certain. Dr. Crane motioned for her to take a seat on the tan couch (more of a loveseat really) as he took his seat behind his desk.

"Tell me Vanessa, how are you doing? We haven't had a chance to really discuss the events that brought you here and how they're affecting you."

"I'm OK."

"Just OK?" he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"I have my good moments and my bad moments I guess."

"Tell me about your bad moments. What do you feel?"

Vanessa took a deep breath before responding. "Panic…fear….anger."

"Really?" He sat up straight in his chair, watching her intently.

Vanessa couldn't help but notice how he had perked right up at her mention of the word fear. "He's a shrink right? I guess he's supposed to be fascinated by these things." she thought. She shrugged off her lingering concerns and continued.

"One minute I'm fine and then it hits me like a wave." Her voice began to tremble and she felt herself shaking. "I'm back in my bedroom with that bag over my head and I can't breath and I can't see. All I have are a few breaths of air that are left in the bag and I know it won't be long before I start to suffocate. He throws me to the ground and he…he…I know what he's going to do but I can't do anything to stop him. I'm helpless."

Dr. Crane alternated between watching her and scribbling frantically in his notebook.

"Tell me more about this feeling of helplessness."

"I had to make a choice between fighting this man and running out of air faster or just lying there while he violated me so I could focus on my breathing in the hope that help would come in time and I'd survive. I had to give up my power, it was humiliating and those bastards thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen. But in the end none of it mattered. The decision wasn't mine to make."

By this point her nose had started to run and tears were streaming down her face. She grabbed two tissues from his desk. She used one to wipe her nose and the other to blot away her tears. Vanessa wished that Dr. Crane would offer her some comforting words. Instead he removed his glasses and leaned back slightly in his chair all the while never taking his eyes off her.

"What did you mean by that Vanessa? That the decision wasn't yours to make?"

She couldn't answer him right away. She needed a moment to compose herself. This was the first time she'd spoken to anyone about the events of that night. Vanessa had known it wouldn't be easy but this was hell.

"Vanessa? Are you alright?" Dr. Crane asked.

Finally some concern for her! The way he'd been looking at her before she would have thought she was merely filling him in on the latest plotline of some racy soap opera and he sat there, hungry for every detail.

"Yes Dr. Crane- I'm alright."

"Tell me what you meant about the decision not being yours."

"I ran out of air. When I started taking deeper breaths I got nothing. There's no way to describe the feeling. All I can say is that it felt like my lungs were on fire and I knew I was going to die. I felt this overwhelming feeling of desperation and I just started thrashing. It was all I could do. With no air I couldn't even scream." She stopped briefly and shook her head in disgust. "I'll never forget the laughter. I thought I heard a police siren also but it stopped. I can't remember anything after that."

Vanessa felt like she'd been crying non-stop since the day she'd woken up in the hospital. Only imagining how terrible her eyes must look she razed them to meet Dr. Cranes directly.

"What happened to me after I passed out Dr. Crane? Did the police tell you? No one has told me anything. Where did they take Dan? Can I see him? I have these scratches on my face and I don't know how they got there. What happened to the men that did this? Were they caught?" She paused again before asking her last question. "Was I raped?"

Dr. Crane stopped taking notes and placed his pen and paper on his desk. He stood up and walked over to her taking a seat beside her on the couch. As she turned to face him directly he took her hands in his just as he had the first time they'd met at Gotham General.

With a voice so monotone it gave her chills he proceeded to answer her questions one-by-one in horrid detail.

"Your husband was killed instantly from a gunshot wound to the head. He was buried in Gotham Cemetery while you were still in the hospital. You're free to visit his grave site when you're released from Arkham. Police are still searching for the men who attacked you. They've combed the Narrows but have found no trace of them as of yet. Those were indeed police sirens you heard before you lost consciousness. Jim Gordon was the first officer on the scene. When he found you you weren't breathing. He performed CPR and was able to bring you back. At some point you had managed to get your hands free of the ropes and clawed a hole in the bag by your right eye. That's how you obtained those scratches". This time it was his turn to pause. "Vanessa, they did perform a rape kit when they brought you to the hospital. There were signs of forced penetration but no semen was found. Police theorize the men ran when they heard the sirens and weren't able to finish the act."

There it was in a nutshell. Vanessa's mouth hung open as she tried to process all the new information.

"Oh", was all she managed to say. Dr. Crane's briefcase caught her eye for some reason and she made it her focal point.

"Vanessa?' he asked

His voice seemed so far away and everything in her field of vision faded to black with the exception of that briefcase.

"Vanessa." Dr. Crane said her name again, this time taking her face in his hand and physically turning her head so she looked directly into his eyes.

"Stay with me." He said and with those words that darkness faded away.

"What's wrong with me Dr. Crane? I'm coming apart."

"There is nothing wrong with you, nothing at all. What you're experiencing is a completely normal reaction to the traumatic events you've experienced. Have you heard of catatonia?" he asked.

"I know a little bit about it, not that much I suppose."

"Under conditions of overwhelming terror some people become so frightened that they're literally paralyzed with fear. They enter into a trancelike state, albeit not a peaceful one. Have you been experiencing flashbacks related to that night?"

"Over and over again, like a nightmare that won't stop."

"You see Vanessa, that's why I can't let you return home yet. You're current mental state is far too delicate. Going back to your home and those environmental stimuli could trigger another episode."

Vanessa noticed that Dr. Crane's hand still rested on her face. She still held his other hand in her own. Their faces were no more than a foot apart. His thumb brushed along her bottom lip. Tilting his head to the side he closed the gap between them a bit further. What was going on here? He wasn't going to kiss her was he? That wouldn't make any sense but she was hardly pushing him away. Did she want him to kiss her? She didn't know what to feel anymore. A vision of her husbands face flashed in her mind and along with it came a fresh supply of tears.

"Vanessa"

"Yes Dr. Crane."

"Please, call me Jonathan."

"Jonathan" she said.

He no longer looked her in the eyes. Instead he focused on her mouth.

"That's all the time we have for today but I do look forward to our next session on Thursday." He said this cheerfully as he stood up.

Vanessa's eyes popped open and she saw him walk to his desk as if nothing had happened. Then again, nothing had happened really. He pressed a button on his telephone and a nurse entered his office almost immediately.

"Please escort Mrs. Martinez to her room nurse." He ordered. "This was a productive session Vanessa. Now try to get some rest tonight and we'll speak later."

She gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement and followed the nurse back to her room. Room-that was an interesting word for it. It looked more like a prison cell only she lacked even the comfort of a roommate to talk to.

What had just happened? She never felt at ease with Dr. Crane. He didn't seem to want her to. But at the very least she'd finally gotten the rest of the pieces to the puzzle that tragic night had become. Surprisingly, she was not overly concerned that the men who had done this to her had not been apprehended. Vanessa felt confident that karma would take care of them eventually. It always did. What bothered her most was her husband's death and the fact that she had barely had time to think about him until now. Why had it taken her so long to ask about him and where he was buried or was that Dr. Crane's plan all along? Did he intend to spin her mind every which way until she couldn't think straight or dwell on her sorrows? If that was his plan it was ineffective. With this new information she'd just received she was finally able to mourn. Her high school sweetheart, her husband, the love of her life was gone and now she was here all alone. Vanessa gave into her grief at that point. Somehow she began to forge her own path towards acceptance and healing. She did this on her own without the help of Dr. Crane and she knew from that point on that she would be okay.