CHAPTER THREE

I walked down the hall towards our session room, looking my best and quite honestly, feeling my best. I had come to a solution and I was sure it would work.

"Good morning, Dr. Crane. I hope you slept well." With the extra emphasis on Dr. and my huge smile, he knew I was being impudent. And I was damned proud.

"Yes, morning, why must we meet so early?" He asked as he rubbed his eyes. The truth was that I had extra coffee this morning that would wear off very soon, but I was hoping Crane was a night person. I was right, which meant that I could catch him off his guard.

"Yes. It helps the mental process. Plus, you should be reversing you schedule. It would benefit you greatly. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"Why, yes, I am in fact completely crazy. I had a perfect childhood except for that creepy, touchy-feely uncle that we all seem to have." He winked and continued. "Then, I met the perfect woman who left me on our wedding day for my best man and brother. I started hearing voices telling me to kill my parents then my dog and that small puppet, Lambchop. Have you heard enough, or should I continue?" He smirked, enjoying his sarcasm.

"Dr. Crane, that sounds perfectly dreadful. How I wish I could help" I added with hand on my cheek, making sure he saw my "distress".

"Dr. Crane, you don't like or respect me and I am relatively sure I won't like you either. I do, however, know that you want to get inside people's heads." His ever present smirk lessened a bit and his icy blue eyes lit up. I had peaked his interest.

"I'm listening."

"Seeing as you have already shown your interest in my past, I am offering you an all access pass."

"And you expect the same from me? No deal."

"No, more like you ask a question, I answer and you answer a similar question. So if you don't want me to know something about you, don't ask it of me." He heaved a heavy sigh and stared deep into me, into my mind.

"What makes you think I couldn't find out anything I wanted about you? And how do I know you'll tell me the truth?"

"I could ask the same of you, Crane. Trust is all I can offer." I winked and with a second thought… "Scouts honor." I smiled and he lessened his stare.

"Fine. First, I want to know why you chose Gotham University, or just Gotham in general, to receive your education." I could see he was slipping back into a comfort zone; just like when he own Arkham, when he was a psychologist.

"First of all, the tuition was quite cheap. I didn't have a lot of money and my high school was more into giving scholarships to the undeserving, mostly football stars. So, I had to settle here. I chose Gotham because of Arkham. I hate to sound so blunt, but in a city with so much crime, there is bound to be that much more metal instability. As for you, I understand that you were one of the top psychologists at the University." He smiled and nodded his head at this. "So why did you leave, what was the incident that everyone is so afraid to talk about."

"Funny thing you should mention fear. I was demonstrating the effects of fear to my students. I fired a blank towards the ceiling without warning, just to show them that their reactions would differ depending on the situation. I then had my assistant, then pregnant, who was fully aware of the situation, pose as a victim. She was quite the actress, actually. I pulled her from her seat and asked for one person to take her place. No one came to her aide. I was relieved of my position soon after. None was my fault, just an overreaction." He cleared his throat and continued. "Next. Where are those scars from?" He indicated my wrist. It was covered, but it must have caught his eye when I brushed my hair out of my face or during any number of motions I did today. "May I?" I carefully reached my arm across the table. He gripped my wrist with dominance, and strength but not to the point of pain. He traced my scar with his long, cold finger and began to process when he felt."To precise to be a cutter, how did you break it?" He released me and folded his hands gently on the table.

"In college, I was on the gymnastics team. I was actually pretty good, but I miscalculated a flip, landed on an uneven surface and snapped my wrist in two places. I now have metal pins. I have read in your file that you have multiple scars on your back and arms, where did those come from?" His eyes became much larger, only for a second, as if he pushed his panic away. He did not want to answer, and I was in shock that he didn't connect his own scars with mine. This was going to break him, hopefully reveal what happened to him that helped nurture the scarecrow, what released the beast from within.

It felt like hours had passed, I had no idea how long it had really been. He just was staring. His eyes meet mine, but I know he didn't see me. He was wagering an internal war with himself, or I should say himselves, and I wasn't about to interrupt him.

Eventually, I could see him come back. He had reached his resolve.

"If you answer another question, then I will tell you." I knew this must be something he has been holding back. It had to be important. Anything he could ask would be worth this answer.

"Alright, what's your question?"

"Why do you choose abusive relationships?"

"What? I don't…" I trailed off. I didn't think my relationships have been abusive, well not to the point of harm. I did not expect this kind of question and I knew I had to answer. How did he know?

"Well, the bruises on your arm tell a different story. You also have quite a scar on below your chin, and it is in no way surgical. You were threatened with a knife. It is at least two years old. You are avoiding my question." His analysis of me was almost completely correct. I did have horrible taste in men. How did he know this though, was he researching me? I didn't think he looked at me at the extent to where he could see my scar. It was only about an inch long. Then again, that's what he enjoyed doing

"As you avoided mine? My relationships…" I thought how I could describe them without making him sound right. "Are different. I admit I don't exactly choose the right men. I don't go looking for abusive men, but it usually just happens. By the time I figure it out, I have been dating him a while. Plus, it's not exactly easy, as you should remember, to go out and find the perfect guy while trying to work here. No one exactly respects interns, which I know shouldn't be expected, but I hate that case work get shoved on me. I only got your extensive file last night."

"I can see that, your eyes say you only slept a few hours. Most interns are incompetent, but you seem to be sufficient at your work. I haven't killed you yet, so that's a good sign." We both laughed at this. He had put me in a position of security, be it false or not.

"So, about your scars? Take your time." I saw his smirk drop a bit. He was hoping I forgot. He sat for at least another 10 minutes staring before he took a deep breath.

"A deals a deal. When I was a child, I was attacked by cr….birds." He stopped himself at cr. It was crows. He was hoping that I hadn't noticed.

"Was it crows?"

"Yes, as embarrassing as it is, the scarecrow was attacked by crows. I would appreciate if that was just between us." He cheeks flushed a very little bit.

"Doctor/patient confidentiality." I leaned in. "It will be removed from our tape." I straightened up. "And where did the rest come from?"

"My Grandmother used to beat me. In fact, she was the reason I was attacked." He shuddered, but continued. "That is when my fascinating with fear started. She had inspired me, in a way. That's why I gave her the honor as my first test subject." He was completely amused with the memory of, which I assumed was, his Grandmother screaming. He was lost in himself for quite a bit.

"Dr Crane? I believe it's your turn."

"Yes, I guess so." He thought for a bit. "Miss Quinzel, what do you fear?" I knew this question was coming; I was surprised that it wasn't his first. His smirk was the biggest it had ever been, but somehow he wasn't smiling. It was more intimidating than anything. I sighed.

"Cockroaches have always bothered me. I don't know why, I just tense when I see them." I closed my eyes, pictured one and tried to shake it from myself. I could see he was stifling a laugh. "You know, I'm not one of the girls that starts yelling and screaming when I see a bug. I can deal with anything but cockroaches. I will kill them, but I can feel my skin crawling and tingling when I pick it up. Even through a tissue, I feel like it will kill me. I think it's more of what they represent; the dirt, disease. I have to wash my hands for five minutes and take out the garbage bag I put them. I have nightmares of them crawling out of my skin. I hate those damn things."He stared in complete amusement.

"That's horrible considering that your apartment building probably has more of them than people in the Narrows. Although, some could be considered both." This made me laugh audibly. He continued. "Anyways, I pinned you more as drowning or even fire."

"Not really. I don't fear death or pain. I have been surrounded by it my whole life, so I know what to expect."

"How very courageous of you." He said, slightly sarcastic.

"How about you, Dr. Crane, what does the master of fear, fear?" He was silent for a while. Our thoughts were interrupted by the door opening.

"Dr. Quinzel, your session was over 15 minutes ago. Dr. Thurman would like to see you in his office." Some namely orderly came in and began to strap up Crane. He continued to stare and I figured I wouldn't get an answer. I collected my things and was ready to leave at the same time as him. He looked at me deeply, cleared his throat and…

"The Scarecrow." At that, he was pulled away.

Authors Note: I had fun with this chapter. There is much more in the next. I am very excited with it and I hope you will be to. Thank you for reading and if you have the time, let me know what you think!