-2-

To say that my interview went without a hitch, would be the complete and honest truth. Commissioner Gordon pulled through on his word and escorted me to Dr. Andrew Walc - who was more than excited to see me. Apparently, his previous applicant chickened out and I was the last of potential prospects. His enthusiasm covered Gordon's lack thereof.

Our rather long walk up was, in lack of more pleasant words, awkward. He tried to make conversation but it seemed more like he was criticizing my work choice. He then proceeded to note that my age (twenty-six) did not match my appearance. I couldn't disagree with him but it didn't make me like him anymore. I didn't really bother to ask him questions after that. And the Joker was still in my mind.

His laughter… It was just so demented. No one should laugh like that, ever. I'm also incredibly curious as to why he would even laugh. Was he laughing at me, at Gordon? Or was it just in his nature?

After my interview, I was smart enough to take the elevator. Screw the exercise. I can run later.

Some time later, I had made it back to my apartment. Try not to be surprised as I explain how lavish it is.

Boxes, empty and full but mainly empty, were stacked high and all around, making it more than difficult to enter the apartment let alone live here. The apartment itself isn't of low quality, just not exactly the penthouse. I could have had a penthouse if I had asked, but I didn't want to be in further debt. But I rather like it. It has a high ceiling, wood flooring and is more spacious than my last apartment.

When first entering it's a huge rectangle, stretching longer on the left and than the right of the entrance. To the left is a very neatly situated kitchen, island and all. It was different from any other kitchen I've ever had for the fact that it was so open and it didn't take up much room either. It was simplistic but stylish, and two long strides from the end of the counter were a couple of stairs that led into the living room. I trip over them occasionally. The steps stretched across the entire length of the apartment. The right corner led to a nice spare bathroom, which I had yet to furnish.

I nimbly walked around the boxes and made my way to my bedroom, which was down a small hallway that was placed in the far left corner of the living room. My room, unlike the rest of my apartment was somewhere between organized and messy. Organized, as in I know where everything is and there was not a single box in sight, and messy, as in the clothes on the floor and the random cup or bowl. I ignored it all as I proceeded to my bathroom.

Turning on my radio and stripping down to my birthday suit, I wondered if I'd get the job. I need a job and I've worked too damn hard for my education to not get a job in my degree. And even though I shouldn't think like this, I don't really need a job. No worries, I'm not a rich daddy's girl - my best friend is just a trophy wife that gives excellent blow jobs. She pays for just about everything I do but I don't want such a dependency. If I were to become immersed in the security, I would just move in with her and smoke my days. A bit hypocritical considering I was almost a doctor; both are bad for my health.

My shower was quick but gave me the time to clean off any invisible grime that clung to me from Arkham. It really is a place of complete loathing but maybe I can make myself into someone, or at least learn to live with the guilt and anger that tainted every inhabitant of that dwelling.

Dressed in some relatively warm clothing and with my dark hair in a neat plait, I continued my quest of setting up my living room. Or maybe my office. Most of my stuff went to my bedroom but a lot of my paper work and books would be more appropriate in my office.

My office is on the opposite side of wall of my bedroom and set more to the middle of the width than in the corner. It's smaller than my relatively large bedroom but it's amazing comfortable if only a little unnecessary. I'd be more than willing to put all of my in my closet and since my computer went boom, I've learned the advantages of laptops. But nonetheless, I went of work of setting it up. Starting with loading on of my many bookshelves with my books.

I stayed in that room for a little over an hour before calling in some take-out and relaxing on one of the white couches that Maegen, the best friend, was more than willing to provide. It was definitely nicer than my last couch and I would probably end up falling asleep on it if I weren't careful.

I ended up dozing off and waking to the doorbell going off. It was take-out.

The rest of the night was pretty boring. I ate, continued to clean, watched a bit of TV in my room, rechecked to make sure that all the doors were locked, and the fell asleep.

Waking up the next morning, I realized that I hadn't set up an alarm. It was a bit after ten when I woke up and I realized that I had several missed called from Maegen, two new voicemails, and a few text messages.

The first was from my mom. She lived back in Texas, and it was a simple: Are you ok?It's become a bit of a ritual of ours. Call every Sunday but text once in the morning. If no reply by noon, call the cops. I quickly sent her a 'yep' and proceeded to look through the rest of my messages. Some were from my friends, asking me how I was doing up in Gotham and if I had found myself a man yet.

Awkward.

I listened to my voicemails next. The first was from Maegen, telling me to call her and the second was from Mr. Walc's secretary.

I got the job.

Smiling to myself, I continued to lounge in my bed and stretch carelessly before getting ready for the day. A pleasant euphoria was running through my system and I couldn't erase the smile from my face. Even as I stumbled into the coffee shop that across the street forty minutes later.

"Sorry," I quickly apologized to the man I had nearly fallen into. Straightening myself, I found myself surprised at the man before me.

He was tall, good looking, great bone structure and suspiciously familiar. Upon noticing my gaze, he smiled and I smiled back before offering my hand.

"Chase Stark."

"Bruce Wayne," he replied, shaking my hand.

Pausing, I cocked my head to the side and my gaze became curious.

"Am I supposed to know you?" I asked, hoping to sound as innocent as I was.

He gave a small shrug, pulling away from me. "Depends who you are." I chuckled at this. "Have a nice day."

"You too." I side-stepped him and made my way to the front counter.

I ordered coffee and a muffin before returning to my apartment. Not much of a breakfast, I know, but it's enough to hold me over to lunch, which is actually pretty soon.

I called Maegen when I returned to the apartment. She's in the Bahamas with her husband, Lucas. Our conversation was short and simple.

"How are you?"

"Fabulous. You?"

"Pretty good. I got the job."

"Yay!"

"Yeah, I start tomorrow. And I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

"What-ever!" She laughs. "Do you wanna go shopping when I get back?"

"I won't buy anything."

"Course you won't! I will!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll talk to you later."

"Fine. Pick up the phone next time I call!"

"BYE."

"Bye."

After our very brief conversation, I continued to unpack before eating the left over Chinese for lunch. For some reason, I thought it would be best if I were to stay in today. The only place I could think of to go anyway would be the park, and I would probably look like a child molester if I were there by myself right now. Not that I'm so sure if it's safe at night either. There's a bookshop around here that looked promising (from the outside) but reading doesn't fit me much right now.

I lounged around the apartment for the rest of the day. I ordered Vietnamese for dinner and watched the news before going to bed, wondering if work would be any interesting tomorrow.

The first week at Arkham Asylum wasn't so bad as I thought it would be. It was, for the most, part a form of orientation. Dr. Christopher Doyle, one of my coworkers, was kind enough to show me the ropes and help me with the filing system that Arkham was practically built off of. He was also very helpful at giving me tabs on my patients. Apparently, when a psychiatrist becomes bored or overwhelmed with a project, it gets passed to the next person in line.

To my surprise, there were a few cases that were known as extensive projects that included the entire faculty. There were only a few patients that fell into that category but they were as follows: Scarecrow, Joker, and Two-Face.

The Joker, I had expected. I've been avoiding his cell since our first encounter but my turn was quickly approaching on the list that was kept in the staff lounge. Just three more days and I would get my turn. Christopher told me that most sessions only lasted an hour or so, but primarily because the staff refused to spend more time with him than necessary.

Scarecrow was a bit of a surprise. I remember when he was still Jonathan Crane. Before I had changed my career goals, Maegen forced me up here to meet her fiancé. And she dragged me to one of her psychology classes which featured the lovely Dr. Crane.

"He is so sexy," Maegen had stated with a grin. "But he's completely insane."

I had laughed it off, thinking she was joking, until I had actually gotten to the class. She was right on both accounts; he was very pretty, and then he opened his mouth.

His lecture for that class was over the difference between right and wrong. Rights, privacy, the greater good were all questioned and evaluated. It was interesting enough but I noticed that Dr. Crane's perceptions were…perhaps, immoral. Most of the students hadn't bothered to question him and what was almost an hour after his lecture began, a loud snort was heard from the front row. Someone had just awoken from his deep slumber.

To my astonishment, Dr. Crane called the forward to stand next to him at the base level. They stood shoulder to shoulder, allowing every difference between the two men become even more pronounced, and the entire class seemed more entranced by what they were witnessing.

"Now," Dr. Crane began speaking, voice like honey while slowing walking around his stage. "Mr. Luray here is a junior, with a 2.8 GPA and is the star quarterback." A whoop came from the back and a few students chuckled, Maegen included. The quarterback, Luray, seemed pleased with himself and allowed a grin. Dr. Crane, however, was not amused. "But he drinks and drives, causes several disturbances throughout his years, and is accused of several accounts of rape."

Any laughter or happy feeling was wiped away in an instant. Every student had wide eyes and all were directed on Luray, who looked like he wanted to vomit, but Dr. Crane continued.

"Although there is no evidence to such events, there are suspicions. Does that make Mr. Luray a good man or a bad man?"

It was a simple enough question but how could anyone answer it?

"If he did do it, then he deserves to go to jail," a petite Asian remarked from in front of us. "And if he didn't-"

"Then he's still a menace to society," Dr. Crane finished for her, completely unabashed as to what he was suggesting. "He knowingly puts others in harms way and continues to do so, even thought it is wrong."

He had used the word so mockingly that I was surprised the tall blond in the front row even bothered to answer.

"But how can it be so wrong if society refuses to do anything about it?"

"Exactly!" Dr. Crane exclaimed, using the loudest tone I had heard thus far. "So we must do it ourselves."

The whole class was entranced as he walked to his corner desk, which was beautifully kept, and opened a drawer. He pulled something out but I was seated too far to notice what was in his hand. It was a bit annoying but it was a bit childish on my part as well. He placed the arm with the object behind his back and took a stand a bit further back.

"Would it be wrong if I disposed of Mr. Luray?"

At this point, Luray was becoming more and more uncomfortable and I doubt that the silence did much for him. I, however, was curious as to where this discussion was headed.

Was Dr. Crane attempting to justify murder?

"Yes," a red head boy said as though it were the easiest question in the world. "Murder is wrong. The government is supposed to see to the accused and guilty."

"But would you be saying that if it were your sister that was attacked?" Good question. "Would you, Mr. Rodriguez, stand by and watch your sister suffer while a guilty man walked away, unscathed?"

Although I couldn't see his face, there was no doubt a mask of uncertainty plaguing his face.

"No," he finally answered, truthfully.

"But we don't know if he did it!" the jock from the back of the room exclaimed.

Dr. Crane contemplated this for a moment.

"So you don't believe Mr. Luray deserves the penalty of death?"

"Of course not!"

"Then how about a bum leg?"

Before anyone could reply, he pulled his arm forward to reveal the object in his hand. There was no time to gasp as a loud bang rang through the air and Mr. Luray was suddenly on the floor, groaning in pain and clutching his left leg.

"Is it right?" Dr. Crane shouted, a mix between laughter and bitterness, waving the gun in the air without a care.

A girl screamed and then another, but as the count mounted, all I could hear was Dr. Crane's laughter.

"We've gotta get outta here!" Maegen frantically whispered, grabbing my hand. But I couldn't find it in me to move. That, and the rest of the class was rushing for the door.

"I've gotta help the boy," I replied before pulling away from her and making my way to the base level. Crane was still too busy laughing and talking to himself in jumbled exhorts of praise to notice me as I went to kneel next to the boy.

The details are a bit fuzzy, but Luray survived. He lost his football scholarship though. Crane was arrested and claimed insanity. He was sentenced to three years in Arkham Asylum, but I really didn't care. I was already back in Texas and was worrying about my education more than anything.

I have no idea how Crane had become Scarecrow, and I can't make myself care. He's here, after running the place, and I get to be the one teaching him a lesson. Not that it'll do him much; he's insane.

Two-Face was probably the biggest shock. I thought he had died. I mean, that's what the news said anyway. I went to Chris and he was startled that Dr. Walc hadn't made me sign a confidentiality report beforehand. He took me to him right away.

Dr. Walc seemed very flustered and extremely embarrassed at his error. He kept stuttering his apologizes to Chris and myself, and muttering about his confusion.

Secrets were always my strong suit, so I really had to problem keeping the secret. It was just a bit odd, in a perfectly sensible way. Two-Face/Harvey was once a good man and to throw him in a prison where he sent to many men, would be inhumane. And who knows, maybe he's not past help. He's smart and competent and a good man. I'm sure of it.

… My coworkers, however, are adamant in their belief that he will never recover enough to be placed back into society successfully.

"His views are warped," Diane Crosby began to explain to me one day. "Everything to him really is nothing but chance."

"Like, probability?" I questioned, leaning against the wall of her neat office. I wish mine was this neat.

"In essence," she replied before having to race off to her next evaluation. I didn't mind, Chris was showing me to my first real assignment.