The nurse looked down at Jonathan Crane with a feeling that was mostly pity. Until recently, he had been her boss, and she had always liked him in an impersonal sort of way. She had admired him for his brilliant mind, and she hated to see him reduced to this.

"Good morning, Dr. Crane," she said as she and her orderly entered the room. Dr. Crane's eyes followed her; otherwise he made no response.

Sheila was one of the few who still called him "doctor." Most of the others just called him Crane. A few called him Scarecrow. It was hard for some of the medical staff to accept that one of their own had gone so clearly off the deep end. But Sheila had known this man since he was a shy, awkward medical student. She remembered how much it had meant to him to be called doctor, to be respected. Now he had lost nearly everything, including his mind. She couldn't bring herself to take his title away from him, too.

Barney began undoing the straps that held Dr. Crane to the bed. Completely unnecessary, in Sheila's opinion. They kept him pumped so full of drugs, he couldn't have moved even if he hadn't been restrained. He was never going to get better like this, but nobody seemed to know what to do with him.

"Are you ready for your sponge bath, Dr. Crane?" He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Terribly undignified, but necessary. I'll be quick."

She chatted about nothing in particular, keeping her voice low and gentle, while Barney stripped him. Barney was a good man, never too rough with the patients who didn't deserve it, but strong enough to take them out in a second if they did. He was another one who respected the mind's power. He was easy with Dr. Crane now, impersonal and efficient, but easy.

"You know, Dr. Crane, I'll be retiring next week. If I was a cop in a movie, I'd be the one fixing to get shot. My son, Adam, used to love those silly action movies." She always talked about her sons while bathing him. It was her way of reminding him that she was too old to be a candy striper. She knew it must be humiliating enough for him to have his naked body seen and handled by almost total strangers; how much worse would it be to have one of those silly little girls giggling over at him? Besides, taking care of him really did bring out her motherly feelings. He was nothing at all like her big, strapping sons, and yet, he was. Before becoming the Scarecrow, he had been the intelligent, respectable doctor she had always secretly hoped at least one of her children would grow up to be. They had disappointed her, turning to the one profession open to all the poor boys in Gotham City.

And Crane had disappointed her, too, wasting his potential. She had thought he was better than that.

"You're a good nurse," he said, speaking thickly. "I would have given you a watch."

Sheila smiled at the boy. It was rare for him to speak to anyone these days; even rarer for him to say anything pleasant.

"That would have been lovely, Dr. Crane. Just lovely." She stepped back to let Barney dress him in a clean paper uniform. "What's the plan for today? Do you feel up to taking a little air outside?"

"No…no straitjacket." My, my. He was unusually responsive today.

"Suit yourself. But we have a new patient—you may have heard them bringing him in last night—and I'm sure you'd like to meet him. He's a former doctor, like yourself."

"Who?"

"A young man from Massachusetts named Herbert West." Crane's eyes lit up with recognition.

"Miskatonic…"

"That's right. He's been transferred from one Arkham to another." She patted her patient's shoulder gently. "You be good, now, Dr. Crane. I have other patients to see about. If you change your mind about going outside, I'll see you in the garden, dear." He didn't answer, lapsing again into a brooding silence. She smiled at him anyway as she left.

She wondered how many of her patients even noticed that she always had a smile for them.

Herbert West glared sullenly at her when she and Barney entered his room.

"Good morning, Mr. West," she said. "Or do you prefer doctor?"

"Don't patronize me," he said stiffly.

"I'm not patronizing you. I just want to make this as pleasant as possible for everyone involved. But if you want to do this the hard way, that's fine, too. Just let me know if you're going to cooperate, or if Barney will have to restrain you while I bathe you."

"I'm perfectly capable of bathing myself. I do not need your assistance."

"All right. Barney, hold him down for me."

She honestly hated to treat him like this. He seemed like an intelligent, relatively civilized young man, not at all what she had expected from what she'd heard about him. He had been convicted of the murders of three people, as well as the mutilation of a dozen corpses in the Miskatonic morgue, had come up with some wild story about zombies, and had been put away largely based on the testimony of his own roommate and research partner, whose fiancée had been one of the victims.

This young man was hostile, but not irrational. He must be frightened, but he kept his fear under control. He might not be exactly sane, but she thought he was like poor Dr. Crane, a brilliant, sick young man who needed help, not the indifferent combination of abuse and neglect that most of the rest of the staff had to offer.

"Get your hands off me," West snapped as Barney began to unbutton his shirt. In seconds, the big orderly had him stripped completely naked and back in his restraints.

"We're just doing our job, Mr. West. Do try to relax. There's nothing to be gained by fighting us."

He glared daggers at her while she washed him.

"Degrading nonsense," he muttered.

"Personally, I agree. I can see that you're well enough to do for yourself, and if you prove not to be the violent type, eventually the people in charge will see that, too. Until then, all we can do is make the best of it. So, tell me, Mr. West, how are you feeling today?"

"I don't belong here. I'm not insane."

"Yes, I know. I've heard that one before. But physically, are you all right? I hope the boys weren't too rough bringing you in last night." She didn't see any bruises, but that didn't mean anything. West didn't answer, so she shrugged and patted his shoulder. "Well, you're all clean now, anyway. Later, the doctors will come in to check on you, and then after breakfast you'll be allowed to go outside for a little while, if you feel up to it." She watched as Barney dressed the sullen young man, quickly and efficiently. "Don't let yourself get discouraged, Mr. West. It's really not so bad here."

Just then, one of the other patients started screaming.

"You're among friends," she said with a sigh.