Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. There's been tons of schoolwork. Holidays. Writer's Block. Etc... BUT, here is something important. Here is the end to "Serving the Scarecrow".

Chapter 24:

The History Lesson

Dr. Crane let out a heavy sigh, looking away from his pager. It was not coming from 'Home', it wasn't coming from Melissa. It was coming from the basement, but for a long moment, he failed to act. He only leaned back in his chair, staring at the Melissa's file. Two nights before, he had dug it out of the other files he had taken from the asylum. They had been locked away in a safe and that safe had been shoved into a deep corner of his closet. Blinking, his eyes took a last-second look over the front page. The records told her full name, her guardians, the offense against her, it had a picture of the first day she arrived, as long as mugshots. In those mugshots, she had looked utterly petrified. Such a young, beautiful face overcome by such fear. In a way, it hurt Jonathan to look at them, yet he continued to gaze. In another way, it did not much matter to Dr. Crane. It was only a way to try to further analyze her mental state. And in the last way, it bothered and annoyed him. It bothered the Scarecrow to no end. He should've caused that look of fear.

Dr. Crane pushed his chair from his desk, but could not force himself to stand. He kept his eyes on the file. He reached out, beginning to flip the pages of the files. Combing through them for what seemed like the hundredth time. He was trying to find anything he may've missed, trying to find anything that seemed even slightly relevant to knowing more about her. Maybe it would be able to help him have an idea to where she would be. He had looked for any sort of relatives, but there were none. She had no aunts, no uncles, no cousins, and no siblings. At least by blood, anyway. He had already checked over her foster-parents, thinking that by some off-chance, she would've returned to them. He had the city's files checked for them. The mother, he found, had died of a sickness years earlier; the father had remarried and had moved out of the city, out of the country even. Alex was the only family she had left... and Dr. Crane knew exactly where he was: In his asylum.

With another sigh, he let all of the pages drop back down. Swallowing, he lightly pressed his thumb against Melissa's thumbprint. This was all the closer he could come to touching her. He had liked touching her– be it only on her back to nudge her forward, her arm or shoulder to get her attention. He had liked to hold her chin and cheek in his palm the most. It caused such a feeling. A feeling like she needed him, like she was his to keep safe and protect from Gotham, it had somehow filled a gap that had taken shape over the years. He had liked having another living soul in his house. A person to talk to, to eat meals with, to look at, to feel the warmth... And at all these memories, his chest suddenly felt like it had been punched. There was a bitterness in his mouth as he removed his thumb from the paper. He stuffed the records back into the file, and put the files back into his briefcase. He stood up, straightening his tie and collar. Dr. Crane grabbed the handle of his briefcase and looked at his reflection in the glass of a plaque against his wall. His face had hardened from any previous softness there may have been. He grabbed a small, white, aerosol can from the corner of his desk and put it into the inner-pocket of his business coat before walking out of his office– slamming the door behind him.

One of his men– one with a pony tail-- was standing in front of him, the rest were hanging further back, standing near the large wooden crates. Two nervously glanced at eachother– one folded his arms before looking back to Dr. Crane and the man with the pony-tail, the other dropped his eyes to his shoes, apparently he had found something interesting to look at. Dr. Crane look over the man's shoulder at his men, all of who seemed on-edge of the event that was laying out before them. Licking his lips, Dr. Crane turned his icy stare to the man standing in front of him. "What was so important that you interrupted me?"

The one with pony-tail cleared his throat. Then cleared it again, "Well... It's about Melissa."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. The look in his eyes warned that it better be something useful. "Well what is it then? I'd love to hear."

"Well...Right. Right. If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure she wasn't kidnaped."

"'Makes you feel any better'?" He repeated with annoyance."Are you pretty sure or sure?"

"Well, I'd gone to Charlie's, like you told me to, and Melissa wasn't there. Charlie wasn't there either, though. I looked around. I even looked in the closets, in the shower, under the beds and all. He wasn't there. I saw on the kitchen table... Well, there was this note. It was signed by Charlie, and it told where he went. It also said that Melissa had been with him."

"Where did it say he went?"

"Okay. I screwed that up with what I said. It didn't say where he– they went, it just said that they had both left. That they were out of the city."

"So, let me get this clear... I'm suppose to feel better knowing that she was not kidnapped, but rather that she ran away from me?" He could hear a bite in his voice. A sharpness in it.

"Well at least she hadn't been kidnaped and isn't being tortured or something, right?"

Dr. Crane glared at him in silence, "Did the note say anything else?"

The man stared at him, then looked over his shoulders to the others behind him, looking for any sort of support from them. They were smart enough to keep their mouths quiet, and eyes off of his. If they did look him in the eye, it was only with a hardness in them. He turned back around. "'Good luck finding us, Scarecrow. X and O." Dr. Crane closed his eyes at hearing this, trying to keep his temper out of his voice. The Scarecrow was starting to whisper in his ear. The man continued on, "But, y'know, Dr. Crane... They say if you love somebody, you should let them go...if they come back, then it's meant to be." One of the men standing in the back muttered an 'Oh God' at hearing this, shaking his head, knowing in an instant this was the wrong thing to tell Dr. Crane. "I didn't want to be the bearer of bad new, Doctor... But I was the one that was sent, and I was the one that found the note, so..."

Dr. Crane took of his glasses, wiping his shirt across the lenses. He turned his back to his men, taking a few steps away from them. As soon as his back was turned, all of the men looked at each other, cautious of what would happen next. Dr. Crane set his briefcase on the table he reached into his jacket pocket. Then he turned to open his brieface. "Are you aware what happened in ancient times when rulers got messages that the did not like?" The Scarecrow questioned, "Do you know what happened to the messengers?"

Silence. The tension was a weight in the basement. "No? Nobody knows? Did nobody pay attention in History class at school?" The Scarecrow went on. "Well then, if you don't know, today can be a History lesson for you all." He suddenly turned around to them, the burlap mask hiding the crooked grin on his face.

The man with the pony-tail began to take a step away, but pause midway, obviously thinking that stepping away would only worsen the situation that he was in. "When rulers did receive messages they did not like, they would kill the messengers. Don't you fret though, I am not going to kill you, my boy." He walked closer to the man, letting the small can slip from his sleeve into his hand. "I'm not a murderer, after all. All of this is for the sake of science." He made a grand gesture of the basement, "For knowledge! It is to help! It will help me, maybe even help the world, understand fear. After all, let us remember that there is nothing to fear but fear itself!"

And in the next instant, he had pulled the can up to the man's face, spraying it.

The man fell to the ground. All eyes were on him. He slowly pushed himself up, staring at those around him. His eyes turned to the Scarecrow.

The silence was suddenly broken by his screams.

- End of-- Serving the Scarecrow -

Author's Notes: How was that for an ending? You should Review! Post Questions if you want, if there's quite a few questions, or even just one or two important ones... I'll probably add the answer to the story in a "chapter" way. Not write it into the story, but just post another chapter with something like "Author's Answer" or something like that... I couldn't think of a way I wanted to end this. To all conclusions I had thought about, conclusions that could answer all questions and fill in the gaps, well-- I couldn't think of a way of getting to THAT conclusion. So I ended it like this. I was satisfied with it, actually. Did a look in Crane's thoughts and feelings for Melissa. Finished off with Crane's POV. Left it as... a mystery to where she left to. He doesn't know...neither does the reader. A mystery all around.

Should there be a SEQUEL? Are there questions that weren't answered? Are you curious to how I originally planned for this to be? Should I just keep the story the story like this and let you make up your own ideas of what happened next in Crane and Melissa's lives- if they'd met again... Or should I make an epilouge or something such as that?