Author's Note: What took so long? Lots of things. Main thing being- Writer's block and School.

Then tonight I was in a lame mood and had nothing to do and whatnot, So I decided to update this story... I'm okay with it. Hope you like it. Don't forget to review! It's disheartening when I try and try and only have a few reviews (But love you all so much that did review)... And when it's disheartening- it's hard to write... But-

Enjoy!

Chapter 3:

Criminally Insane, After All

Melissa gave a shrill scream as she saw what her cool and collected doctor was doing. He had picked up a syringe, it was quite a long silver needle that glinted in the humming light. The needle in itself with threatening enough, it seemed to be laughing and dancing and taunting. Crane seemed too preoccupied to hear her screaming as he carefully stuck the needle into the bottle, collecting some of the liquid in it.

She violently thrashed, twisted, and turned on the table, choking herself with uncontrollable sobs.

Dr. Crane's chilling blue eyes flickered to her face that was becoming tear-strained, then back to the needle as he carefully took it out. He discarded the bottle in a small, silver tin. It made a cracking noise as it was dropped in. Apparently, there were other bottles already inside. Just how many times had he done this to people- living, breathing people? At that thought- another scream crossed with a sob escaped her mouth. Dr. Crane seemed to have suddenly turned deaf though.

Dr. Crane sat with his back more rigid as he turned back to her. His attention seemed to be back on her. He shook his head softly, in a disapproving manner. He sighed, "Melissa. I really wish you would stop."

"I don't-" She began, trying to speak, but it was useless. Her breaths were rapid, as her lungs gasped for air in between sobs. Her throat felt dry, sticky, and like she had just swallowed fire.

"Don't?" Crane questioned, his brows furrowing together. He had decided he'd humor her.

"Belong here." Melissa finally managed out. She held her breath, trying to get control of her breathing as her eyes stayed focused on the needle. "I didn't belong in the asylum." She said as she began trying to twist away again.

"Stop it." Crane commanded her immediately. He seemed angry or frustrated by her actions. "Breath, Millie. You'll hyperventilate." His eyes flew up and down her body in a slightly entranced way. Not entranced by her in that manner of speaking, but rather entranced by something she reminded him of. She twisted like a snake- A small garden snake that would twist and turn and hiss feverishly, trying to escape the grasp of a small child's hand.

While Jonathan Crane was in elementary school- well, even then he had been taunted and teased. He was an easy victim for anyone- the older boys, the boys in his grade- the girls even had their fun with him. When he was in fourth grade- one day, he had come home from school with his glasses broken into two, a skinned knee, pants ripped on both knees, and a tear in his shirt. His mother had not shown up at home yet, so Jonathan had quickly changed from those clothes that clearly shown he had been prey, into another pair of pants and a shirt that was much too baggy for a young boy- and set off into their backyard.

It could hardly be called a backyard- what little grass they had was yellow, the rest was dirt- but there was a small flower bed. Jonathan had often sat by it, staring at his mother's flowers, his eyes lost in his thoughts. Then, that fateful day, a hissing noise reached his ears. He peered down to see a small green snake staring up at him with its small black eyes focused on him, its tongue flickering. With a glare, the small boy suddenly grabbed the snake, pressing his thumb on the snakes small head for control.

"I'll show them." He muttered darkly as he stood up. "I'll show them all… They'll be sorry." With the snake in hand- Jonathan made his way into his house. The snake didn't live for more than two days. It had most likely died of the stress that the little boy inflicted upon it...

"Stop it, Melissa." He echoed, his thoughts beginning to turn back to the current situation. "Your body well need its strength to beat this." Jonathan said in the doctor-like but this-should-be-common-sense-you-foolish-girl tone of voice. He looked back to her face as she slowed the twisting and turning until she completely lie motionless on the table. He looked at her with a stern look, and opened his mouth to give a calm threat, "If you can't control yourself, I will give you a sedative. It will help you relax." For awhile. Only a brief while.

Melissa stopped immediately. A sedative? No. She had gotten those in the asylum. She hated them. The drugs would relax you for awhile- but then slowly cause your mind to go into a slowed panic. You'd panic because your mind would be groggy, you weren't able to think properly, it would take you more time to comprehend with the doctor's voices were saying and asking you, they always sounded like they were in the far distant. That isn't what you wanted in an asylum. When a person is groggy, they are much easier to get to answer questions, and to be willing to take new drugs.

"There's a good girl." Jonathan said in an almost proud way, ignoring the look of horror on her face. "Good girl." He said smoothly, encouragingly as he moved a hand to her arm, the spot that he had swabbed, his finger moving about the spot gingerly- He was trying to find the vein in her arm again.

She felt as if she'd be ill at any moment. Melissa closed her eyes, shaking her head- "Please, Dr. Crane…Jonathan… Don't. I don't belong here. I've done nothing to deserve this." But at this last comment, his finger had stopped moving briefly- and a feeling in the air between them changed. This change caused her to open her eyes to his. He stared down in at, as he continued to rub her arm.

"You haven't got any memory of it, do you?" It wasn't actually a question- he was the doctor after all. It was just something to be said that promised he'd explain in the following moment.

She took a slow breath in, staring at him questioningly. Half of her wanted to know what he was talking about and the other half didn't. "…What?" She asked in a whisper. His finger stopped moving again, this time though- he found the vein.

"It's perfectly normal. It was too traumatic, and the brain blocked off that memory. I'm sure that if we had more sessions…" Jonathan's voice faded for a moment, thoughtfully, at what could've been- "That I could help you remember it."

Melissa knew what he was doing- he was only dawdling from saying it bluntly. She could tell by the sound of his voice that he loved this moment. He wanted her to ask him what was wrong with her. Wanted her to request, to demand, to beg him to tell her what was wrong. "Remember?"

He looked into her eyes for a few moments longer- then down to her arm as he changed the position of the syringe in his hand. Now it was ready for the jab.

Jonathan leaned a bit closer to her arm, but his eyes went back to hers. "Melissa…" He ventured slowly, as if he was trying to break this to her gently.

"The Asylum was opened for the criminally insane…You were placed in Arkham Asylum not only because you were mentally unstable…" His voice was building her up with each word her said. His voice becoming more lower- more unfitting for a doctor, more fitting for a homicidal maniac.

"You were placed there because you murdered your parents."

Beneath the mask, a smirk of delight had placed itself on Dr. Crane's lips—Well, actually now—on the Scarecrow's lips.

He let this moment sink in for a few seconds- letting it sink into her heart and mind before asking with dark amusement in his voice-

"Don't you remember… Millie?"