AN: Takes place after White Knight. General gist: Joker used Jervis Tetch's hat and...Clayface...to mind control literally everyone else. Harley 2.0 (Neo Joker) took over later. I doubt the Gallery was very happy about any of this.

For my other Scarecrow-in-White Knight piece, see 'Did Not Think This Through' in Unfounded Belief.

The thing with mind control is that there are levels. Sometimes, you're fully aware of what you're doing. Other times, you might know where you are, but not why. And sometimes, you're fully asleep. Maybe snatches of reality trickle in, like a sleepwalking episode, but not much.

Coming out of that third level, the deep level, is unpleasant. Like awakening from an unexpected, unwanted nap.

The last thing Jonathan Crane remembers is suffering a moment of absolute stupidity and agreeing to a meeting with his...colleagues. He has no idea why it seemed like a good idea...yes he does. Joker. Or. Jack Napier, that's right, he finally got the proper combination of medication to handle that mess. Absurd, if he'd still been Arkham's director at the time they wouldn't have this problem...incompetent fools…

Never mind. He'd wanted to see for himself, a little. And Kitty had been curious, too, and everyone else had been going, so off they went.

And that little sneak had done something to them all! Typical. Once upon a time, when it had been a small handful of professionals, this sort of thing never happened. But oh, that damned clown...no sense of etiquette, none, he was probably raised by squirrels…

He breathes deeply. A moment later, he's roused again by a whimper from a man in front of him. He doesn't know the man.

He gasses him anyway, to try and feel better, before stalking off down the burning, abandoned street. He'll find that clown, make no mistake, and make him pay. You do not make a fool out of Jonathan Crane and get away with it, oh no.

Batman won't save you this time, Joker, he thinks viciously. And neither will little Miss Quinn; either of them.

But first, Kitty.

He doesn't have to look for long, as it turns out. He's scarcely set foot on the next street when a car honks and she calls out, "Going my way, stranger?"

It would just figure that she found what has to be the only red convertible in this neighborhood.

He hops in all the same. She looks unharmed, at least. Small favors-oh!

Not that he's complaining, you understand, but he was not expecting that level of kiss.

"I missed you," she murmurs, lips moving to his jawline. "In case it wasn't obvious."

"What day is it?"

"Don't care, missed you anyway."

Fair enough.

Police sirens start up a few blocks away and she pulls back and refastens her seat belt. Jonathan has never felt overly charitable towards police, but this really isn't helping.

"Think they'll believe it wasn't our fault?"

"I don't think they'll care." She hits the gas. He pushes the seat back as far as it will go and closes his eyes. "I ran into Ivy."

"And."

"She remembers more. Apparently the new Quinn took over at some point. Her and Jervis."

Is that so. Up until now, Jonathan had been willing to give Jervis the benefit of the doubt. He's a small man, and not deceptively wiry-just small and almost frail. Joker could have overpowered him easily. But willing involvement, threatened or not…

Hmmm.

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"Not a scratch. You?"

"I don't think so. But if you wanted to conduct a further examination, nurse, I wouldn't mind."

"Whatever you think is best, Doctor Crane." They slip into one of Gotham's many traffic jams. Another few blocks and they should be at a safe house, theoretically one that the GCPD hasn't found. With all this chaos, it shouldn't be hard to disappear. They've done it before, with far less mayhem to hide behind. "Seriously, though. You all right, love?"

"I'm fine. Furious, but fine."

"Everyone's furious, I think. If Joker isn't murdered by nightfall, I'll be surprised."

He'll be disappointed. Then again, everyone's probably going to ground, so the clown may live to see another sunrise.

Shame, that.

Well, the police have not swarmed the apartment building, and there doesn't appear to be any sign of Batman or his little helpers. Good. They can shower (how long has it been since they've showered?), and order food, and find out what the hell is going on in this town.

"That little brat will pay for this," Kitty's seething as they shuffle up the back stairway. "I expect this nonsense from Joker. But that little chit needs to learn her damn place! You don't see this from Oswald's group, do you? Maybe Eddie's got the right idea about those robots, after all."

Jonathan will sooner die than tell the man so. Edward is insufferable on a good day already.

"Oswald doesn't date the help," he points out. "Which is why none of them suffer these sorts of delusions. They're expendable and they know it."

"They should know it." The apartment is empty. Good. "Sorry little...never mind. Shower or food first?"

He's starving, but now that he can take a moment to just be, he can feel the grit on his skin and he doesn't like it at all.

"Shower," he says, peeling his coat off and mentally dubbing it a Lost Cause. "I have no idea what day it is, and at this point, I don't want to know."

But first, water. If he passes out from dehydration, he will not be happy. Not that he's particularly happy now, but…

The tap water is tepid and unappealing, but he drinks three glasses of it anyway. Kitty's right, about the girl. Joker has no manners. Tetch is a spineless weakling. No, ninety percent of this debacle can and will be blamed on the interloper. At least the first one had brains.

"I suspect," he says, glaring at his belt until he gets it loose, "that we'll all have to get together and draw straws for who gets to go first."

"Likely." Kitty tosses her boots aside and just like that, she's lost four inches. Ha. "I hope we're last."

"And why is that?"

"Murder rights." She grins up at him. "C'mon. Our weak water pressure is calling."

THE END