Prologue July 11
Batman flew, or glided, over the deserted streets. He was on the infamous island known as the Narrows. It had been almost a month since the inmates in Arkham had escaped. There were still a few missing, including the head psychiatrist, Dr. Crane. Or the Scarecrow, as he called himself. The police could search the rest of the city without much trouble, but the Narrows were too dangerous to be searched properly. Thus, Batman had decided to search the island himself. Thought it might have been a better use of his time to investigate the new threat calling himself the Joker, some recent occurrences made him decide to search here tonight.
The reason for this feeling was remarkably quick in showing itself. He heard a blood-curdling scream, followed by a gunshot. He wasted no time in turning toward the sound.
Upon rounding a corner, he spotted a man who had pinned a woman to the wall of an alley. He didn't know where the gunshot had come from, but swept down at the man regardless. Knocking him down, he turned to the woman. She took one look at him, then screamed again. She promptly fainted. Batman was vaguely aware of another man coming up and catching the woman, but he had turned his attention back to the first man.
The man also stared at him in terror. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit, the kind that inmates of Arkham usually wore. Before Batman could do anything, he leapt to his feet and started to run off, stumbling occasionally.
"Let him go, Mr. Wayne," a pleasantly cold, and familiar, voice said. Bruce stiffened. The man looked up and smiled his usual, close-lipped smile. His icy blue eyes regarded Bruce from behind frameless glasses and strands of dark hair.
"Crane!" Bruce said, forgetting to mask his voice. Although, it was apparently no longer necessary.
"I knew you'd come eventually," Crane continued resignedly, looking sadly at the woman he held in his arms. He gently set her on the ground and looked up at Bruce.
"What have you done to her?" Batman demanded angrily.
Crane frowned. "I? I have done nothing," he said sharply. "It was that criminal," he hissed, "who attacked her. And you who scared her. I don't suppose you'd hold off killing me long enough to take her home?" he continued more quietly.
"Why would you do that?" Batman asked suspiciously.
Crane forced a smile. "It's the least I could do."
Bruce watched the doctor's unfeeling face for a moment. "And what makes you think I'd trust you to help her?"
"Why not?"
"Maybe because you're a corrupt psychopath?" Bruce snapped.
Crane smiled genuinely. "From one point of view, perhaps. In the meantime, I hardly think it right for you to leave her on the street in the cold just so you can argue with me," he pointed out.
"You know where she
lives?" Bruce asked guardedly.
"Yes."
He sighed. "Wait here. I'll get my car, and we can take her then. But you had better not try anything," he warned.
"Of course," Crane replied pleasantly.
With a frown, Bruce hurried back up onto rooftops. He went as fast as he could back to the main island, where his car was parked. He pressed the button to open the roof, then slid gracefully in. He hadn't gone far, but it would take a few minutes to drive back.
Upon reaching a cross street near the alley where he'd left Crane, Bruce leapt out of the tank, and hurried to find his prisoners again. He couldn't see either the doctor or the woman, and was sure they had run off. But no, there they were. Crane had moved himself against the wall, and was holding the woman once more. Cradling would perhaps be a better word for it, but Bruce couldn't bring himself to think that the cruel doctor might have some empathy left in him. Crane opened his eyes at Bruce's approach, and regarded him without expression.
"Was traffic bad?" he asked conversationally after a moment.
Bruce didn't reply, merely frowned a little. He sighed again, wondering if he was letting compassion go too far. "Come this way," he said. He watched, fascinated, as Crane rose gingerly, still carefully holding his companion. A few snide remarks entered Bruce's head, but he decided it was best not to provoke the doctor, since he was cooperating. Also, bothering a sadistic psychopath did not seem like a good idea.
Batman turned and walked back to his vehicle. Crane followed slowly, rarely looking up. Whether he was looking at the lady in his arms, or merely at his feet, Bruce found it impossible to tell.
He cleared his throat to get the doctor's attention, and was met with a glare. "I can hold her while you climb in," he offered.
Crane glance alternated between the woman and Bruce a few times. "Fine," he said at last.
Bruce took the unconscious woman from Crane's arms solemnly. The latter quickly climbed into the tank with nonchalance. Bruce carefully returned his burden, then climbed into the driver's seat. "Hold on," he advised.
One very fast ride later, Crane had directed them into another alley near an old apartment building. Still in the Narrows, but a little closer to the main island. It was dangerous here, but Bruce figured he would just watch Crane closely, and hopefully keep from stepping into a trap.
"She's coming around," Crane said quietly, interrupting Bruce's thoughts. Bruce nodded as he opened to roof.
"Jonathan?" a faint voice said, startling Bruce.
"Shh… you're safe now. We're taking you home," Crane explained gently.
"We?" she asked, sounding more concerned than Bruce would have imagined her to be. She had, after all, only just regained consciousness.
"Mr. Wayne kindly offered to give us a ride," Crane said coolly, looking at a Bruce.
"Oh," she said, much more calm now.
"Come on," Bruce said, interrupting the interesting conversation. He wondered how Crane, and apparently this woman, knew who he was. And what he should do about it. And why he inspired more fear in the woman than Crane did.
"She's on the third floor," Crane said.
Bruce got out to look around for an ambush. He saw nothing suspicious, only a deserted street near an old apartment building. Shrugging, he returned to his tank, and was able to hear the tale-end of another intriguing conversation.
"I'll be fine. There's nothing you can do, Jenny," Crane was saying. Both of them fell silent immediately when Bruce returned. Interesting, he thought. The good doctor is indeed capable of not only reasoning but also compassion as well. Bruce wondered what had happened in the past month that had so changed Crane. As well as how much this woman, Jenny, was involved in the transformation.
"I'll take her," he said to Crane, who nodded his assent. Bruce felt her tense as he lifted her clear. The doctor hurried out as well, and took back his burden. Bruce couldn't help but feel a little relieved. He didn't know who this Jenny was, but to get along with Crane, she had to be a criminal. Or at least insane.
He allowed the man to lead the way up the rickety stairs. He kept a close watch on all of his surroundings, looking for any movement. The street remained deserted. All of the windows they passed were dark, and Bruce became more suspicious.
"Does anyone else live here?" he asked.
"A few people. She likes her privacy," Crane added. The woman said nothing.
They reached a door where Crane stopped. "Jenny, if you would?" he asked politely. She reached out and unlocked the many locks of the door. "Thank you."
Crane then pushed the door open and walked in calmly. "I think it would be best if we let her sleep in her room while we talk. I assume we are going to talk? Or would you just prefer to kill me right off?"
Taken aback, Bruce stared at him. "Why would I kill you?" he inquired.
With a cold smile, Crane said "Because no policeman is going to come here to arrest me. So it would be less of a hassle for you to just get rid of me."
"Oh."
Crane watched Bruce for a moment, then shrugged. He turned and walked to the other end of the apartment, and opened a door which apparently led to her bedroom. He seemed to be saying something to her as he walked. Bruce walked closer to hear better.
"Don't worry, I will," Crane was saying.
"Jonathan," she said softly. Bruce didn't know if it was a warning or a plea.
Crane sighed. "I know… good bye," he said softly, then bent to set her on her bed. He paused to kiss her forehead gently. Bruce froze, feeling a little embarrassed at his intrusion. Crane rose, and turned to Bruce without showing any surprise at seeing him. "Shall we, Mr. Wayne?" he asked, motioning toward the living room.
Hoping to keep the surprise from showing on his face, Bruce nodded. They walked in silence back to the couches in the front of the apartment. Crane sat down on one of them serenely. Bruce followed suit, though a little less calmly.
Crane looked expectantly at Bruce. "Who is she?" Bruce asked, instead of answering the questioning look from the doctor.
The latter looked at the former sharply. He then looked back toward the bedroom. "Her name is Jeanette Ducard," he said quietly.
"Ducard?" Bruce demanded.
Crane smiled slightly as he faced Bruce again. "Yes. She is the sister of one of Ra's al Ghul's favorite wives, whose name he borrows when necessary."
Batman reacted quickly. He grabbed the doctor by his suit coat and shoved him against the wall. "Where do her loyalties lie, Crane!" he demanded.
Crane continued to smile. "Mostly? With herself. Often with her sadly widowed sister," he said mockingly. "Occasionally with her late brother-in-law. And rarely…" He paused, then looked away. "And rarely, with me." He fell silent, pensive. He seemed to be looking at something only he could see.
"Is she as devious as her brother is?"
"No. She is as clever, but has very little ambition beyond her own comfort. She is not a threat to you or him," Crane replied in monotone.
"How can you tell?"
"He hasn't killed her yet."
Bruce frowned, then sighed. "Will I regret saving her?"
Crane smiled returned, this time self-mocking. "That depends on what you plan to do with me."
Bruce's frown changed into a glare. "What should I do with you?"
"Well, it would be safest to kill me. She'd either kill you or give up. Probably give up, since she is occasionally on your side. Returning me to my own asylum would work as well, though she may try to get me out. Putting me in prison would be a death sentence, even if I didn't get capital punishment. She thinks all the inmates would kill me," he explained. "Or…" he paused.
"Or what?" Bruce asked, knowing he wouldn't like the answer.
"Or you could let me go. I doubt I would give you reason to regret it," he added quickly. He looked almost worried as he said it.
"I take it you're a reformed man?" Bruce asked sarcastically.
Crane smiled coldly again. "In a way…"
"Start talking, Doctor. You'd better make me believe you," Bruce said after a pause. He wondered again what had gotten into him.
"It's a long story, Mr. Wayne. Perhaps you would like to make yourself comfortable?" he suggested.
"Fine," Bruce replied, sitting back on the couch. "Just start talking."
Crane sat down as well. "Of course."
