Jonathan thought back to that night, and remembered Mrs. Baxter, the family cook, sobbing. She had told him and his sister as gently as she could the news that his parents had come up missing during their trip to Paris for their anniversary. Roxi and Jonathan had both taken the news quite differently. Roxi had gone into the Narrows with her current boyfriend and got into drugs. Jonathan had thrown himself into his work, cooking and studying until late into the night.
Since Roxi wasn't around any longer, Mrs. Baxter had concentrated even harder on becoming Jonathan's mother figure. She encouraged him to pursue the culinary arts when he was younger, but began to become worried about him when he was up so late. Mrs. Baxter eventually took him to a physiatrist, who diagnosed him with clinical depression. After they got a similar second opinion, Jonathan had diagnosed himself.
He had heard the voice, but carry on it had only been muttering at the corners of his mind. It got louder in the night, and sometimes he could even tell what it was saying. Jonathan knew that the things it was telling him to do were horrible and awful, so he cast it away from him. But for some reason, it always came back, screaming at him sometimes. He eventually researched his condition, and forged a prescription for a medication that he thought would solve his problem.
The Scarecrow as he started to call it would only whisper when he took his medicine, and he could easily ignore that whispering. He stopped taking the medicine when he was out of college, believing that Scarecrow was dead. Because of this lack of medication, Scarecrow had come back to life, and now was speaking to him again.
Come on Crane! How can you possibly have any fondness for her after all the things she's done? Let's just kill her now and make things easier for us. Scarecrow said convincingly in his head. Jonathan was tempted to do just that, but he stopped. Scarecrow's ideas were rarely good ones.
No. He said to the voice sternly. Jonathan looked up at Amber and saw that she was watching him carefully, smile gone from her face. He knew that look that she was giving him, it was the look that everyone had given him when they were starting to believe that he was truly insane. He took the towel and dried his face, staring at the floor.
Why not? Scarecrow asked him. She's going to get out eventually. I can feel it, you're starting to like her. Remember what happened with the other girls? They found out about your medicine and left. Didn't even say good-bye. Oh, I'm so sorry Jonathan. Does that bring back bad memories? She'll do the same thing, only she will destroy this life that we've built here as well.
That I've built here. Jonathan said strongly to Scarecrow.
Whatever. Just kill her now and be done with it.
No. Jonathan said finally, looking at Amber's hazel eyes.
Don't come crying to me when she ruins everything, Jonathan. Scarecrow said in his mind, and left. Jonathan took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, dropping the towel. He was so relieved that Scarecrow was gone. He knew what the voice was capable of sometimes, especially in cases like these where he hadn't taken his medicine for a while.
He felt a hand touch him gently, and looked up to see Amber's face. She looked truly worried about him as she brushed some spare drops of water off of his shoulder. Jonathan knew that he couldn't be around her anymore. He convinced himself while staring into her hazel eyes that she could give up this whole business of writing her article.
"Crane?" She asked gently. "I didn't mean for you to get mad. I was only joking around." Amber bit her bottom lip and he frowned. "Dr. Crane? Are you alright?"
"Of course, Amber. I'm just tired and I think that it would do you well to have some quiet time alone in your room." Jonathan sighed and walked out quickly.
Amber watched Dr. Crane walk out with a slightly surprised expression. After a few moments, she watched the Porsche pull out of the asylum, and remembered the look on his face. He seemed to be having some kind of inner battle with himself, and Amber was curious to know what exactly was going on in his head at that moment.
She knew that Crane wouldn't give her the ball back even if she begged, and so she decided to take a little revenge on him. Amber hoped that it would irritate him, but from what she could tell about him, he wouldn't let her get to him no matter what she did. She never thought that it would cause this kind of reaction, and to be honest, it fascinated her that there was this great of an effect on him. After pacing around her room for some time thinking about how curious she was to know about Dr. Crane's true life, not just what she gathered from the web pages she visited, she laid down on her cot and went to sleep.
Jonathan sat up in his home for a long time thinking about the things that Scarecrow had said. He resolved that he would have to fill his prescription again to banish the voice, but there was a slight problem with that. In New York, he was recognized by some as being rich and powerful. Some magazine had once written him up as being something called an eligible bachelor in New York. That had amused him at the time, but once he thought about it further, it upset him. It had drawn more attention to him, and to his personal life; something that definitely couldn't happen.
Yes, he could always kill Amber. There wouldn't be many questions asked if he just slipped a fatal dose of some drug or another into her food one night, but that was what annoyed him the most. He had come to see Amber as an equal rival worthy of playing his mind games on. Very rarely did he find someone who could pose a serious challenge to him. He smirked arrogantly to himself while he loosened his tie and started to take off his shirt. Obviously the woman wasn't an intellectual equal, but she had strength of mind and quite a bit of it from what he could tell. Of course, there was always the worry of her colleges coming to check on her again, but Jonathan was reasonably sure that he had handled that well, slipping the medication into Amber's food to make her hallucinate. He was still fascinated that she had managed to create an entire person; he came to the conclusion that she must have developed a very active imagination as a child.
But he slowly recalled his thoughts back to the Scarecrow. He could feel it sleeping inside his head now, waiting for another opportunity to come back to life. Jonathan remembered with slight anxiety what had happened that fateful night in Gotham City. Scarecrow had completely taken control, Jonathan's mind being weak from the recent loss of his surrogate mother, Mrs. Baxter. The voice had only done it a few time in the past, creating the vital chain of events that eventually led to Gotham's near ruin. He wondered if the Batman would still be searching for him, and doubted it. When his pretty little district attorney had shot him that night, he was reasonably sure that Batman would believe him dead.
Jonathan thought about the medicine he would need to subdue the Scarecrow. He would definitely have to get the prescription tomorrow. He couldn't wait any longer for it. Jonathan sighed and knew that Roxi would be so hung-over in the morning that she wouldn't even get out of bed, let alone drive down to the pharmacy and pick the pills up. He heard her stumbling around on the level beneath him, obviously drunk, and pulled back the covers of his neatly made bed. He would have to deal with that in the morning.
Amber groaned as a loud pounding on her door awoke her. She knew from the noise that it definitely wasn't Crane, as he always preferred to knock just loud enough for her to hear and not beat on the door. It was probably an orderly. She didn't bother to get up or turn her head to see if her guess was correct, she simply cast her eyes in the general direction of the door and made note of a white uniform. Definitely an orderly then, Amber thought. They're here kind of early for my session today. She slowly sat up from her bed while ignoring the orderly's impatient foot tapping. When she looked at him, she smiled lazily at his narrowed eyes. "I'm hungry." She stated as she got off the cot. "When's breakfast?" The orderly didn't answer her as she followed him, but then again, she didn't really expect an answer. She yawned as she watched the sides of the halls. Most of the patents here were men, and some looked even competent as they watched her. She thought about what an awful life it would be to have to stay here, confined by four white walls your entire life. Then she wondered if that would happen to her now, and felt that familiar pang of fear at the topic. No use destroying what confidence you have before a chat with Crane Amber thought to herself, and pushed the subject from her mind. As Roxi said, Crane somehow found it in himself to respect her; maybe that could eventually lead to her freedom. But the doubt was still lurking at the corners of her mind, and she stared at the floor the rest of the way to Crane's office.
"Amber. How are we feeling today?" He asked her when she came in. The orderly walked out of the room quickly when Crane nodded at him, as usual. She looked at him blankly while thinking back to what Anna's plot had been. There would be no way to escape him even if she did get out of the asylum. Well, it couldn't hurt to try it, right? Amber thought to herself hopefully. Nothing to lose--
Except your life, and sanity; and then think about if he gets in touch with that Scarecrow. The dry and sarcastic part of her mind finished for her. She sighed and threw the plot from her mind. Anna had wanted her to shove past Crane when he came to her room to visit her sometime, and then when she walked out, pretend like she was simply visiting a patient. But there were so many holes in this, just to start, how on earth could she shove past someone like Dr. Crane? Sure, he was slender and willowy enough, but as she flitted her eyes across his upper body, she could tell that there would be strength in his lean limbs. Amber decided that she wasn't going to answer his question, instead choosing to flop herself down on the couch. It was almost comfortable, much more so than the small cot that was given to her to sleep on. She smiled sleepily as she knocked the fluffy pillows off it and onto the floor. After a moment, she picked one back up and curled herself around it. Dr. Crane watched this with his usual assessing air that he always had when he was around her.
"Don't you feel like talking to me today?" He pretended to sound hurt, and Amber looked up at him without expression.
"I want those books Crane, and music. Besides, I was rather enjoying that 'quiet time' that you said that I would be having in my cell. It's still early."
"Well, Amber. How would you like to have some time out of your room? Go out and see New York for a bit?" He asked her, trying to hide the hope that was in his voice. He would need her to agree to this so that she wouldn't act too suspiciously in the pharmacy. She looked at him warily; obviously she picked up on the eagerness in his voice. She could tell that Crane was trying his best to look indifferent but she knew enough about him from the short time that she had actually known him that there was definitely something he wanted, and badly at that if he was coming to her for it. She wondered what it could possibly be if he was so obvious with his request. Not that it will stay a request for long Amber thought as she studied Crane's face. He had a vague smile on his lips that could easily be mistaken as his usual appearance, but Amber knew better.
"So, what do you want?" Amber asked him. She could see that unfamiliar glimmer in those blue eyes brighten with obvious hopefulness and he cleared his throat.
"I was just curious if you would be interested in getting out of the asylum for a bit. I need some medication picked up at a pharmacy." He said quickly. She closed her eyes and was careful to keep her face blank as she considered this. While she was thinking though, she couldn't resist poking a little fun at him.
"What Crane, falling off the deep end? Can't say I blame you, running this place I think that I'd go crazy too." He looked at her coldly and Amber wondered slightly why he was taking her comment so seriously.
"No, I would be remembered if I went in, and I would constantly be getting calls from other pharmacies wondering why I am not buying medicine from them instead. I need you to go in and purchase it for me." He said. "And if you try anything while you are in there, I will have you killed. If you don't think that I will, I beg you to please try something." Crane said seriously. She looked at him.
"I suppose I could do you this one favor, but I trust that those things you mentioned won't happen to me while I am in, as you say, in your care." She told him quietly. He looked at her thoughtfully. This was all becoming rather like one large game for her. Amber knew that there was little chance of her escaping the asylum for a long time, at the very least she would have to wait until the uproar in Gotham had died down some. But now that she had consigned herself to that realization, she would need something to amuse herself while she was in here. So if Crane could play his head games with her, she figured that she would play them with him as well and perhaps study him a bit while she was here. Perhaps it would give her a better idea of what part he played in Gotham and the League.
He decided that he wasn't going to reply to her last statement, instead moving on to another topic of discussion. "While we were in the elevator, you said that you had some experience with Roxi's kind of condition. I would like to hear more about that." Crane said carefully. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Oh so now you want to know? I don't feel like talking about it now." Amber said lazily, smiling at his obvious annoyance with her. But the subject did bring back some memories that she had tried so hard not to think about from that night. She wondered why on earth Dr. Crane would save her life when it would be so much more convenient for him to just let her die there. He could even explain away the accident if he invented a reason for her to be outside with him in the pouring rain and the time, which Amber knew he was quite capable of doing. But why would he save her life after trying to kill her? It just didn't make any sense, and when she eyed Dr. Crane again, she figured that it was one of the few things in his life that didn't.
"Amber; please tell me about this." Crane's voice sounded like he was asking her for trust, and she looked into his eyes for a few moments considering. She knew that this probably wasn't the best place for her to look when she was trying to think about something, as she found their colour to be extremely distracting most of the time, but soon Amber was lost again in her thoughts.
She was fourteen again, and still living with her father. Her mother had left a few years earlier when she had grown bored with the whole family life thing. It had been three months since her father had started drinking. Amber recalled the huge argument that had ensued over her education and what she had wanted to become. Her father had wanted a prim and proper businesswoman, but business of any sort had always bored her, so she had hopes of becoming a reporter. The argument had started after her father's third beer, and a letter from the guidance counselor at her high school. Even though she was only a freshman, the counselor had taken a personal interest in her welfare. Amber suspected that the counselor had been pushed into her current profession by her own parents years ago, and sympathized with Amber's problem. She had typed a letter stating that Amber was unsuited to a business profession and that her father should send her to school for her dream of becoming a reporter. After much shouting by her father and tears shed by Amber, her father had thrown a beer bottle that smashed above her head. She decided that it would probably be better for the both of them if she left as her mother had, and went to live with her best friend Lexi. Amber lost all contact with her father after the incident, and hadn't talked to him since. Eventually, she moved to New York with Lexi to attend the university there, and got a job straight out of college at the New York Observer.
Amber realized that Dr. Crane was still waiting for his answer and saw that he was watching at her carefully. "Well are you going to tell me anything today?" He asked her. She sighed and looked up at the plain white ceiling.
"No Crane, not today. But you could talk about yourself." Amber replied quietly. He looked surprised.
"We are not here to talk about me. We are here to discuss you." He said while shuffling through papers on his desk.
"Really? And why is that Dr. Crane? I don't have any psychological problems, and if you are just interested in finding out about my personal life I think that you'll be disappointed. I'm actually a very boring person."
"And what makes you say that? I find you interesting."
"Hate to break it to you Crane, but yes, I am boring, and you are most likely boring as well." She said. He pretended to look offended.
"I am not boring."
"Well, I suppose you are more interesting than me. You drive fancy cars, date models, and are involved in huge conspiracy plots. So I'll take that back then, you certainly aren't too boring." She said finally. He glared at her.
"I am not involved in any conspiracy plots and I recently ended the only relationship that I've had with a model." He replied haughtily. She laughed at him.
So I heard. She thought while remembering the argument that she listened to in the asylum. "Not currently involved in any conspiracy plots. I know you had something to do with Gotham." He sighed.
"And you say that you don't have any problems. Obviously you're paranoid." He smiled at her faintly. "We will just have to extend your stay here…"
Amber decided that she wasn't going to answer that; instead she rolled over on the couch and didn't face him while she curled herself tighter around the pillow. He eyed her slim frame on the couch for a moment, and then looked back down at his papers. He blinked twice and stared at them. To his great surprise, he had completely forgotten what he had been working on. Crane looked back up at Amber. He noticed that her shoulders that were usually tense starting to relax and that her breathing become more regular and slow. Smiling at her he looked back down at the papers and tried to get back to his regular work.