A/N: Don't own anything.

Bitter For Sweet

Arkham Asylum, the place where the insane get 'treated', for a hope of curing them. Many believe that this insane institute really does help, but what they don't know is that even the sanest of man would lose his sanity, and also go insane. There's nothing neither good nor fun about the asylum. It's only here to torture all those who had committed a crime or are assumed insane. For being someone who has worked here, you would assume that being here will have no effect on me. But after seeing the cell from the inside out, and not the outside in, I would want nothing more than to never go back there, especially if I'm going to get the point of view from the inside of a cell, strapped around by a straitjacket. But this time I'm not going back to Arkham to be locked away with the Batman handing me over. No, I'm going back to Arkham with Bruce Wayne to do some quick research of the man who now runs it. But still, being here leaves this weird taste in my mouth. So, bitter sweet.

"Are you okay?"

I look up, and notice that Bruce has been trying to get my attention. He had this worried look in his eyes or was it concern. I rid myself of that last thought. Knowing well that no one would have any concern for someone like me.

I grab at my scarf, and pull it up, covering up half my face. "I'm fine." I mutter out with the scarf covering most of my voice, and making it sound scratchier than it is.

Bruce seemed satisfied with my answer as he once again began walking. With me walking behind him not wanting to stray away from him if someone were to recognize me somehow. I don't know what would happen if I was recognized. Maybe they would quickly try to apprehend me, and put me back in a straitjacket, abandoning me in one of those white lonely cells with only my thoughts accompanying me. After that they would most likely try to 'treat' me to see if they can help. If they think that they could help, then they are the ones who most likely need to check themselves in. I detest Arkham. I just want to get this over with as quick as possible, and never return.

"Mr. Wayne?"

I look over to the person who spoke those words. There standing a couple feet away from us was an old looking man. He was holding a cane, and looking as if he has everything under control. I scoff, yeah right. He was also not very tall, but a short, chubby looking man with this sense of authority. Just because he runs the place doesn't mean he's some hero or anything. More like, he could be a victim; anyone can succumb to their worst fears here. Why not him?

Bruce gives a warm smile to the man. "Good evening, Mr. Sharp."

Quincy Sharp didn't return the smile, but remained very calm. "Ah, yes. Good evening to you too, Mr. Wayne. But if you don't mind me asking, what bring you here? Surely a man with your stature must be really busy, and not have time to come visit an insane asylum."

I stayed behind Bruce as he began starting conversation with Quincy. "Well, I'm just offering my services to Arkham. Being a benefactor to this institute, I would also like to know what happens around once in a while, and decided that since I have a day off, this could be the perfect opportunity. But I don't believe we properly introduced ourselves."

"Of course. If you may, follow me then."

All three of us began walking down a large corridor, and looking around, I could tell that this wasn't the way to the Administrator office. Where is he taking us? He's practically leading us to the other side of the asylum.

The whole walk was a quiet one. The only thing making sound was the cane that Quincy Sharp carried, as he walked around with his other hand behind his back.

When we made it to our destination, I saw that we were near some of the offices many doctors used to treat the patient in. We made our way inside the door, and Bruce softly closed it behind me.

Quincy made his way to sit behind a large elegant desk, and gestured to us to take a seat in front of him. "Please, sit."

We both took a seat, and looked over to Quincy. Bruce was the only person in the room wearing a small smile. While Quincy just looked calm, and composed. I on the other hand wasn't too happy being back here. Not after everything that happened.

"Now, Mr. Wayne, what do you want to know about the asylum since it's been placed into my hands?"

Bruce crossed his legs, and began his tirade of questions. "Well, for one, why is your office situated all the way over here. If I remember correctly it was almost to the other side of the building."

He nodded. "Of course, but at that time, a mad man was running the asylum," he quickly captured my attention as he spoke those words; "I don't want to have anything to do with an office that was inhabited with such an insane man."

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows together. "You mean by-"

"Jonathan Crane, yes." He said as he cut Bruce off. "I don't even think that man deserved to be called doctor from the very beginning. He did always catch me as the kind to be considered a little insane."

I clenched my fist under the desk, feeling my blood boil of how lowly this man thought of me to be. How dare he, I worked hard to get my doctrine. My PhD is also not something that was handed to me so easily.

"Oh, he seemed to me to be like any other doctor working here in Arkham."

Quincy cleared his throat. "You don't watch the news much, do you Mr. Wayne?"

He smiled. "From time to time, not many things catch my interests."

Then why I'm I here?

"Well Mr. Wayne if you haven't already noticed by the news or the papers, allow me to fill you in. Jonathan Crane did work here as an Administrator to Arkham, but instead of doing good for the asylum, the only thing he caused was to make it worse," I really want to use my toxin on him, "especially since he himself was checked in to the asylum at one point. Not only that, but he needs to return to the asylum as soon as possible. Having someone like him wondering the streets of Gotham are not a good thing."

"So you consider him to be insane then?"

"Of course, I consider someone like him to be considered insane. With what all he has done, I don't think anything we do would be enough to cure him. From what I've heard, he's taken up on making highly affective toxins. He needs to return so we can stop that mad man from causing anymore harm to Gotham."

Do you want to see my toxin personally?

"Do you believe he can be cured?" I shifted my eyes, and looked from the edge of my sunglasses over to Bruce. Why would he ask such a thing?

Maybe he wants to take you back to Arkham.

"That depends."

Bruce narrowed his eyes at the man in front of us. "Depends on what?"

"Depends on how well the patient would act, and behave in the asylum. Mr. Wayne I've been meaning to this for a while but I never thought of something like this would have ever come up, but seeing as things in Gotham have been getting bad. With the Joker, and all these other miner crazies, I've been wondering if I should relocate Arkham Asylum."

My eyes widened, and I could tell that Bruce was also affected by the news. What does he mean relocate Arkham? How much more can someone relocate this asylum, it's practically its own island.

"And to where would you relocate Arkham? It's practically its own island; the only thing separating it from Gotham is a bridge. Where could you possible relocate it at?"

Quincy opened one of his drawers, and took out a manila folder, setting it on the desk. "Here, do tell me what you think."

Bruce took the folder from the desk, and opened it up; I got a bit closer to see what the folder contained. After looking over the folder, I concluded that this man had to be insane to consider such a thing. Bruce closed the folder, and placed it back on the desk.

"So, you want to relocate Arkham to its own private island. Far from the city of Gotham, making the only transportation be by boat."

"Not only that, but also I want to expand this asylum, with all these insane patients trying to escape, I believe it to be the best way in making Arkham a better place."

For you, maybe.

"Do you really need that much space? I mean the way this island is placed; it could have about two maybe three mansions in a whole island."

Quincy looked like he was getting irritated. "Mr. Wayne I only seek to clean up Gotham. If this is what it takes, then so be it. I will not allow any more insane patients escape. Mark my words that you can consider Jonathan Crane as the first and last patient to escape this facility."

I sank into the chair a bit at the way he was controlling things, and taking matters into his own hands. If he is to succeed, then would that mean that it would be considered impossible to ever be able to escape. I'm never going back to Arkham. Never!

"But that would take years; I mean the way the new asylum would be set up would approximately be from five to ten years. How do y-"

"It's completed."

My heart felt as if it has just stopped for a second.

Bruce stood up, and placed his palms on the desk, trying to act as calmly as he could. "What do you mean completed?"

Quincy looked up to stare at Bruce right in the eyes as if proving a point. "I mean what I said Mr. Wayne, complete. Done. Finished. It is just like that picture you just saw a few minutes ago. Don't tell me you thought of it to be some sketch. Please, I knew from the beginning that Crane would not succeed as Administrator in Arkham. That's when I decided to take matters into my own hands. The only way to clean up the city is to isolate the virus before it infects the rest of the city. It's only a matter of time before all these patients are taken to the island, and be the new residents in Arkham Asylum."

Bruce tried his best to hide his anger, keeping his voice as normal as possible. "What do you plan to succeed Mr. Sharp?"

He stood up, and grabbed his cane, walking over to the door. "To cure this city, Mr. Wayne. That is all that I want. You too will come to see that what I'm doing is the best for both Gotham, and the patients residing here. Like I said before, consider Crane as the first, and last patient to escape Arkham. Because under my careful care, not one would be able to make it one foot away from the island before me knowing it."

Quincy opened the door, and Bruce made his way towards it. I sat motionless in the chair that I was in. I couldn't comprehend what was going on. That didn't sound like a mental institute that sounded more like hell.

"Thank you for your generous donation Mr. Wayne, I'll shall place it towards Arkham Asylum."

Bruce nodded, and made his way out, but not before turning, and looking behind to see that I was still seated in the chair.

"Is the man okay? He looks pale."

Bruce noticed that I was clenching my fists on my pants, making them wrinkle up, and also that I was looking down to the floor, motionless.

"Yeah. He just needs some rest."

He came over to me, and bended down to my level, whispering, "come on, Jonathan. It's time to go."

I still stayed motionless on the seat.

Quincy walked behind Bruce; I could feel his gaze fall on me. "What's his name?"

My eyes widened, and I could tell that Bruce's eyes widened too, when I stared up to his face. I could feel myself shiver, not knowing what to response.

Run, Jonathan!

And I almost did for it not have been for Bruce reaching out, and grabbing my wrist. Hauling me up from the seat. "His name is John. He's staying with me for a while; he came from a very cold terrain, and is now working for me."

Quincy nodded in agreement, believing every word that Bruce said. "Yes, I can see. The man's probably a little home sick of his home. Especially if he had to wear that much clothing to get used to his new surroundings."

Bruce grabbed me from one wrist, and directed me out, never letting go. "Yes, that's probably it. Now if you could excuse me Mr-"

"Warden. It's Warden Sharp, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce smiled, and nodded. "Of course. Have a nice day… Warden."

I could still feel the gaze of that man as Bruce, and I exited the corridor. I still couldn't find how to operate my legs but only followed Bruce as he had his hand on my left wrist. We didn't hurry out of Arkham mostly because that would seem too suspicious, but we were walking in a fast pace. I looked down at my arm in which Bruce was leading me away from the asylum, and couldn't help but feel somewhat grateful for him not just leaving me there.

Grateful?

When we made back outside, Bruce lead me to my side of the car, and opened up the door. I slowly made my way inside as he carefully closed the car door. Not long after, he made it to his side, and got inside the car, starting it up. He didn't ask me any questions the whole ride back to his mansion, probably knowing that I wouldn't respond anyway. But still even this drive left a weird taste in my mouth. So, bitter.

Scarecrow didn't even bother to ask questions. Knowing to well what was going on with me. Except I wanted some assurance that I wouldn't be going back there; something to make me believe that I won't be condemned to that horrible place again.

My hands started shaking, but not for long, I felt a hand covering my left. I looked over to the hand, and could see that this was my assurance; this was all that needed to be done to show me that I don't have to worry, no words had to be said. And the weird thing is; this gesture didn't have a bitter taste in my mouth, more like…

Bittersweet.

Maybe, bitter… for sweet.

When we made it back to the mansion, Bruce got out of the car, and made his way to my door, opening it up. I still felt as if I was in a trance. Not knowing what to do, my whole body felt numb. Bruce shook me by the shoulders, but I still didn't respond. That's when he took off my seat belt, and carried me bridal style to the door. I felt so numb, I knew I should have broken free from his grasp, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything. This was reassurance. I kept repeating that in my head as a mantra. All the while clenching his back shirt.

I felt myself sink into a warm bed, and the exact moment it happened, I found myself already asleep. Only feeling the warmth of the covers being placed over my body, and something brushing my hair away from my face, I fell into sweet nirvana.

I started to open my eyes, my head felt as if someone just rammed a hammer on it. I was fluttering my eyes open trying to see where I was. My first thought was Arkham, seeing as it was completely dark, until I heard some clicking. I concentrated harder, and could tell that the clicking was from someone using a computer. I moved my gaze to the only light shining with in the darkness. There sitting a couple feet away from the bed was Bruce Wayne. He had his back turned away from me, having the computer radiating the only light in the room. He looked as if he was busy.

"There's some tea on the nightstand if you're thirsty."

I looked to the nightstand, and could see that there was indeed a cup of tea on a saucer planted on the nightstand. I laid my back to the headboard, and reached out for the cup. I took a sip, and noted a strange taste to it.

"Sweet?"

"Yeah. I thought you might need something sweet to help your senses out more."

I sipped a little more of the tea, and placed it back down. I slid down from the headboard, and lay back down on the bed. "Where I'm I?"

He continued typing, never once turning around to face me. "You're in my room."

I started to shift to get out of the bed. "Stay, don't worry. I'm not going to let you go back to your room. Go back to sleep, and tomorrow we can talk."

Instead of responding back, I simply placed the covers back over my body, closing my eyes once more, but this time realizing that I wasn't alone, that I didn't have anything to worry about. I licked around my mouth, and could tell that sweet taste was still in my mouth. I closed my eyes tightly trying to figure out what this was.

Being here is supposed to be bitter for me. But then why do I have this sweet taste?

This really is bitter for sweet.

A/N: The Asylum that Quincy was talking about is the asylum from the Batman Arkham Asylum video game. So if you've played it before you should know how it looks like.

The title of the chapter is from the song 'Bitter For Sweet' by Blaqk Audio.

Reviews are very much appreciated!