Arkham Asylum rests in the Narrows, an area of town that was devastated over a year ago by the breakout that ensued after it became shrouded in fear gas. But Gotham was quick to rehabilitate itself, clear the area of the airborne hallucinogens, and round up as many inmates that it could. The Asylum had received generous donations from Wayne Enterprises to hire a staff that was morally sound, and repair damage that escaped inmates had caused. But it was the same building that he remembered. The same bleak white hallways and blinding lights, the same cramped cells and observation windows. The only difference was that he was now experiencing them from the inside, as a patient instead of an employee.
Johnathan Crane sat huddled at the very end of the wall length bench in Arkham's recreation room. Around him fellow inmates argued, babbled, and rocked back and forth. Directly beneath him, a man with several patches of hair missing worked diligently at a jigsaw puzzle. The former Arkham employee had his legs curled beneath him to avoid touching the man with his feet.
Ignoramuses... he thought, leaning his head against the wall. Shifting his weight, he returned to the romance novel in his hands, hidden behind a new issue of Popular Science. He could'nt let the others know, of course, not even the guards. He'd never hear the end of it. Johnathan rationalized his interest in books like this one by the fact that his entire life had been completely devoid of romantic interaction. Still, it was difficult to read with all the noise from the outside winding it's way through his head. The buzzing that the room's inhabitants created was unbearable. This place is certainly comparable to some layer of Hell.
Through the window on the other side of the room Johnathan watched an attendant push Carmine Falcone, slumped over in a wheelchair, down the hallway.
It is better than prison... he reasoned. The effects of his fear toxin had worn off quite some time ago... for the most part. His mind was strong, but he would still jump at an especially sudden movement, and he still suffered the occasional hallucination here and there. Crane only needed to act the part to remain in Arkham, and he knew what sort of behavior would ensure that he was never considered for a transfer to the County Prison. A panicked stare and occasional bouts of paranoia kept his handlers convinced. His current ploy? He swore that there were black, pulsating snakes coming out of his faucet at night, and they tried to suffocate him while he slept. Humiliating, yes. But it bought him some time to enjoy the openness of the recreation room after the riff-raff had cleared out.
Today it seemed that the other inmates were herded out earlier than usual. But Crane was not about to question his good fortune, so he decided to go with it. His escort approached him slowly and asked,"Ready to go, Mr. Crane?"
It's Doctor Crane, imbecile. He thought, but simply responded with a petrified glare and vigorous shaking of the head from side to side.
"You sure? I wouldn't if i were you." the man continued, unusual behavior on his part.
What's his game? Crane wondered. Though he was sure that his handler wouldn't tell him if he asked. As "morally sound" as the employees were, they did like to mess with the "crazies". Albeit in a kinder way than Crane had done himself.
Crane jerked his head up and down, throwing in a shudder for good measure.
"Suit yourself."
The man left the room, as he did it seemed as though he were walking a bit faster than usual.
Finally. Johnathan was about to return to his book when the sound of wheels was heard coming down the hall. He didn't look up from the book, but he stopped reading when the sound stopped in front of the door to the recreation room.
A figure strapped into a straight jacket was wheeled in, and stopped in front of the couch. The men accompanying him said,"Now, we're going to be watching you through the window, got it? We'll be just outside. So, don't try any funny business." They shouldn't be leaving the room. Not with this one. Of course, noone could blame them for wanting to be as far from the area as possible.
Johnathan never looked up. Through his peripheral vision he formed an idea of who this man was. At first he didn't recognize him without the makeup, but it was the scars that gave it away. Even when he wasn't looking directly at him, they were hard to miss.
"Hey, what are you still doing in here?" one handler asked Johnathan, who was frozen in place, pretending he didn't exist.
"Why don't you just let the guy stay?" the Joker drawled. Johnathan could feel him looking directly at him.
"It looks like he's got some important reading to catch up on."
The two handlers exchanged glances, and each walked out of the room.
A few minutes went by in searing silence. As each moment passed, Crane felt his companion's stare becoming more and more intense. His restraint on his paranoia was wearing thinner and thinner.
"Hey."
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" he shrieked into his book.
"I want you to look at me."
Right. Time to play the "not existing" game again.
"CRANE." The window shuddered. Johnathan slowly turned his eyes to face the Joker.
"Good, Doc. Now, do you see that remote right there?" Crane nodded at the remote that layed on the couch between them.
"Yeah, that. You think you could turn on the TV? Pretty Please?" He fluttered his eyelids.
Trembling, the doctor set the book down with the magazine covering it. He reached for the remote and pressed the "ON" switch. The Gotham City News played in the background. Crane jumped back to his seat, nearly crushing himself against the wall. They sat for another few minutes before the Joker spoke again.
"You used to work here, so you oughta know, what kind of surveillance is this room under? Any kind of sound monitoring?"
"If I rec-call correctly, the camera up in that corner is CCTV, and there is no s-sound." The doctor was quick to learn that this man was not one to wait around for an answer.
"Perfect. I've been fixing to have a little chat, doc-,"
"How did you know that I used to work here?" Crane asked timidly.
"Heheheh, let's just say that your reputation precedes you, Scarecrow."
So, that's what this was all about.
"Not so high and mighty without your thugs and your drugs, are you?"
Crane was silent for a moment. Reminiscing the days when he was still at large filled him with a semblance of confidence. At least, enough to respond to the Joker.
"It's ironic, I suppose. I had never expected to cross paths with you while I was still," he gestured toward the window, where the Joker's escorts chatted, "out there."
"I very much doubt that," the Joker snapped, his face was suddenly all business. He shifted in his straightjacket and ran his tongue over his upper lip.
"Let me just begin by saying that..." he fluttered his eyes upward as though gathering his thoughts. "You were supposed to be plan A in my grand little scheme. Well, not you, exactly, but I'll get to that. I'm just making sure we're on the same page here."
Crane stared, trying to make sense of what this man was telling him.
"Anyway, you were quite an important factor in my original plan, which got messed. up. when the Batman booked you. Let's face it, it's not exactly as simple as making a collect call if you wanna get a hold of someone in Arkham. It was then I realized that the Batman was going to be a major... hindrance in any endeavors I came up with. So he had to go."
Crane still had no idea where he fit into all of this.
"That whole thing with the mob?" the Joker continued,"Heh, I was still under the delusion that I needed their help in bringing Bats down. I did end up making a pretty good name for myself, though. Yep..." he closed his eyes for a moment," One hell of a joyride... But I digress, while plan B was in progress, i discoverd that the Batman was going to be too much fun to kill, at least for now. And when he did finally get me, I figured, 'what the hell? I might as well give plan A another shot!' So here I am, in Arkham, sitting right. next. to you."
"Wait," Crane Began,"you did all that just so you'd get locked up in here? So you could get to me?"
"No no no no, I showed that town it's true potential, and knocked out the competition in the process. Now, they'll all know who's responsible when plan A is set in motion."
"Which is?"
"FINALLY!" The Joker shouted, making Johnathan Jump,"I thought you'd never ask! Well, doc, last year you invented a compound, one that can have a rather... profound effect on those who are exposed to it. And you know what the best part about it was? IT TORE THE TOWN APART! I'd never seen anything with more pure, undiluted chaos. They're still repairing the damage. So, a thought struck me. What if I could make my own compound? One with a very different effect, but with the same idea in mind, turning this town on it's head. But, you see, I currently lack the materials," he glanced at his hands,"or the means to do it. That's where you come in, doc."
"If i might ask, where do I stand to benefit?" Crane gathered the stones to ask.
"You get out of here, of course. I bust us out of this dump, and you help me create this toxin. Have we got a deal?"
"I..." A deal with the Joker was nothing to be taken lightly. It became apparent that he needed some time. And he got it, surprisingly enough. Not because the Joker had found a surplus of patience somewhere in his mind, but because he'd become distracted by what was on the television.
"...performances start next week. Come and see Cirque Du Doli! This world-renowned acrobatics troupe is in town until the end of the month, traveling in conjunction with the Russian Ballet! Featuring talents from around the globe," the clips on the screen pictured costumed dancers and acrobats," like Maggie the High wire Dancer from the Alps, Jastin the Ukrainian flame-eater-"
"It seems that the circus is in town..." Johnathan observed.
"That. It. Is." The Joker replied curtly.
"-And their newest attraction, Harlene Quinzel, the young contortionist from right here in the States!" The Joker found himself licking his lips, then caught himself and narrowed his eyes at the television.
"You seem... very interested in the circus."
"And you seemed very interested in that romance novel."
after what seemed like the thousandth awkward silence between them, Crane gathered up his book and walked towards the door.
"I'll consider your offer," he mumbled before leaving.