AN- Thank you for the reviews! I was starting to lose hope in my story! yes...I know...impatient...

Well...Read on!

Chapter Two:

The Doctor is In

Jonathan Crane had easily gotten Melissa out of the asylum. He had placed her limp body in a wheelchair, letting her head droop forward so that her hair fell in her face. That way, in case another doctor came that knew Melissa, they wouldn't be able to recognize her. Though, since the second week she was placed in the institution, he had made sure that he was her only doctor. Yes, a few annoying nurses would go in and out of her room every-so-often, but never the same ones. As far as Johnathan knew,to everybody Melissa, except of course him, was a nobody and didn't exist.

He had laid her gently in the backseat of his car. That's when he paused the plans, staring down to her face. Not in regret at his plans, but in slight surprise. Could this really be the face of a murderer? Her soft pink lips, fair skin, and black hair made her look more like... Snow White who was currently doing a Sleeping Beauty impression. He leaned out of the back, closing the door as he shook his head. He was thinking of how this girl, who was drugged and passed out in the back of his car, was like a fairy tale princess. Well, princess or not, he needed, and more importantly wanted, to follow through with his plans.

Putting a hand through his hair, he looked around the empty parking lot, then back at Melissa. "Good." He shortly declared as he stepped into his car, turning the key in the ignition. The ride home was a silent one, silent except for his breathing. He had to get to the factory as soon as possible. Driving the streets, he glanced to the drivers in the other lane as they passed. They had no idea that he had a girl drugged in the back of his car, and what would become of her. But even if they did, they most likely wouldn't take a second thought of it. These days in Gotham, it was 'every man for himself'. Things likehaving a drugged passenger in the carwere not too uncommon.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, he pulled into the parking lot of the old, run-down factory. It hadn't been used in more than seventy years. It was a wine factory, or cream factory, whatever kind of factory it was, Jonathan wasn't too sure, nor did he care. The factory was perfect. It was outside of the city, but not too far, it was unsuspecting, and it had a basement. A basement which was great. He had replaced the lighting, and had a few random people clean it.

Those first random people, were kind and helpful and that was why he decided to test on them first. Because they were kind and helpful, they couldn't deny Dr. Crane who was intelligent, logical, and everything else they had awe in. Not that he asked if they wanted to help with his little experiments though. But even still, they couldn't deny him.

He shut off his car, and open the door to the back to the soundly-sleeping Melissa.

She let out a soft sigh, turning her head to the side. But her head didn't rest upon her pillow, it rested on something smooth and cool. It reminded her of some of the old hospital operating tables she saw in movies, and in the asylum where other patients would be given coutless shots of all sorts of medicines into their veins. It made her think of when she had a mental breakdown on her second night from all the insane screaming of the others.

Melissa had been sitting in her room, on the bed that rested on the floor, with her knees hugged to her chest. Her skin looked sickly pale, and dark circles had formed under her eyes. Her ususal soft hair was greasy and in clumps from when she ran her fingers through her hair. Thinking of her parents she hadn't seen since she was eleven, and of her foster parents, she had started to slowly rock back and forth, mumbling "They didn't want me. Mom and Dad gave me away. Jesse and April didn't want be either. They sent me here. They didn't want me."

And with that, she broke into soft tears. But hearing shouts and screaming of others who were truly insane, she realized in what kind of place she was. She'd be stuck here her whole life. The world saw her as crazy. Melissa crawled to a corner of the room,puther hands to her face, burying her face into the corner as she sat in a small ball crying more. Maybe she was crazy. Maybe only she thought she was normal, maybe that's what every nutjob thinks. As her thoughts dug deeper and deeper, she felt utterly alone, like she was drowning in a pit.

She was so lost in her mind, in her hopeless thoughts, that she had started sobbing hysterically, giving a scream of horror at what she became every few moments. Her hands clawed at the padded rooms, wanting to escape.

Before she knew it, arms were pulling her back away from the corner and she screamed louder, wanting to stay in the saftety of the corner. She started to flail her arms, tears rolling down her cheeks. Someone's strong arms were forcing her to lie down in her bed. That brought her back to the memories of a couple years before, when she had been walking down a street, and was pulled into an alley by a rugged man and was nearly raped. And that thought didn't help her calm down any.

She felt a needle jabbed into her arm, which sent a jolt through her body at the shock. A small gasp escaped her and she kept her eyes tightly closed, but her sobs softened after a few moments. She hiccuped every few breaths as the crying subsided.

"There... Calm down, take deep breaths. Everything is alright, Melissa." At hearing her name said by a soothing but firm voice, she opened her eyes and looked up at the man holding her down. That was the first time she had any real contact with Dr. Crane.

Dr. Crane.

Weren't they just talking a few seconds ago? About one last meeting before she checked-out?

She opened her eyes and felt her heart and stomach being squeezed by an invisable hand. This was not her room at the asylum, not the dayroom, nor were they inDr. Crane's office. Her eyes looked to the cupboards, the counters, where many small bottles were neatly placed. She whipped her head to the other side in alarm and saw him sitting with his back to her, hunced over a desk. Melissa opened her mouth, about to call out to her doctor, but she stopped. Something about him, even though he was turned away, seemed wrong at the moment. Deathly wrong.

Melissa slowly tried to sit up, but quickly found that she couldn't lift her upperbody up more than a few inches off the table. She lifted her head and looked to her arms. They were wrist-up, strapped to the table at the wrists and a couple inches above the elbow. Her legs were also strapped above the knees, and at the ankles.

"I'm happy to see your awake, Melissa. I was about to use the smelling salts." Dr. Crane had turned his chair , watching Melissa discover why she couldn't move.

She looked at him, tears at her eyes, but she was holding them back. "Why am I here?"

He looked at her and took a thoughftul breath, folding his hands together. "You're here to help me solve a problem, to help figure out why my mixture is not working."

"W- What?"

Pushing his glasses back to the bridge of his nose he let out the breath and stood up, walking over to a counter, "You'll help benefit society."

"What?" She asked with her eyebrows quirked even higher, as she tried to move further and further away from him even though she was strapped to the table.

He turned around with a metal tray in hand, walking toward her, "I don't expect you to understand, Melissa. It's complicated. All you need to do is lie there. That's it."

"Dr. Crane?" She asked again, hoping that hearing his name will bring him back to his sane self.

"Feel free to call me Jonathan. Your no longer my patient, I'm no longer your doctor. We're working together on this." He set the traydown on asmall table that was next to the bed. Melissa looked at it and saw an assortment of needles, a dark blue vial, and a tube. She was going to get a shot of...a shot of-

"What is that?" She blurted out, struggling , as he swabbed the a spot on her lower arm.

He let out a sigh, and his blue eyes looked to hers, "It does no use to struggle. It only wastes your energy, Mille."

"What is that...Jonathen?" She asked again, tears escaping her eyes.

"A tonic." He answered as he attached the small tube and needle.

She stopped stuggling, her eyes looking back to his face. "Is it toxic?"

Jonathan stopped and looked to her, brushing some hair out of her face. He rested his hand on her forehead softly and gave a look of sympathy. "It's possible, if I have the right amounts of everything, that it isn't. That's what we're here to figure out."

His eyes continued to offer his ex-patient a soft, gentlelook. After a few more seconds, he turned away from her. She closed her eyes, wishing to be anywhere but there. When she opened her eyes to look at him again, her heart jumped into her throat.

Jonathan had tied a pale blue surgerical mask around his face, put on gloves, and was reaching his hands back to the tray.