Author's notes: wow, an update. Could you believe it? XD

It is the first time I try to write of Bolton, and I hope I got him IC enough. I realized that though he's the bad guy here – not that Crane and Tetch (especially Crane) are usually innocent angels, but still – he had too little space in the story: I couldn't just keep mentioning him without giving him some space. Besides, I had fun writing him doing some of the things that the Arkham inmates accused him to have done in "Lock Up".

Privileges are extremely important in Arkham, almost as much as money in the outside world.

Being part of the privileged ones is almost a social status in there, no matter how apparently insignificant those privileges maybe: the permission to keep plants in her cell for Poison Ivy, the coin for Two-Face, cards for Joker, crossword puzzles for the Riddler, the puppet for the Ventriloquist, some humorous gadgets for Harley Quinn, books for the Scarecrow…

And, of course, the hat for the Mad Hatter.

"I must admit," Crane said with a wide grin as he looked down at the medicines Tetch had handed him through the usual hole in the wall, "that this annoying hat of yours turned out to be rather useful as a hiding place."

Tetch hummed in agreement. "Oh, yes, nobody ever thought to check under it," he said. "Are those the right ones?"

Crane took a closer look at the medicines, his grin widening as he read their chemical components. "Yes, they're the right ones. Perfect."

"Can you really create your fear toxin out of them without a lab?"

"Can you create a mind control chip with the components but without the appropriate instruments?"

Tetch hesitated. "Well… yes, I suppose I could, with some tweaking. But they wouldn't be as effective."

"Precisely. The toxin that will come out of these won't be as good as the usual one, but it will be powerful enough to help me escape from this hell," the Scarecrow said, his eyes still fixed on the medicines, a triumphant gleam in his gaze.

"Help you?"

"Us," Crane quickly corrected himself – now that Tetch knew about his plan, he couldn't take the risk to have him spoil everything; he had to let him escape as well, or at least let him think he would. "To let us escape from here."

"Oh," childishly naïve as he was, Tetch seemed reassured already. "So… we're getting away soon. Aren't we, Jonathan?"

"Not before next week," Crane said quietly, carefully hiding the medicines in a small hole under the floor and covering it once again with the small nightstand he was allowed to keep.

"Next week?" Tetch sounded somewhat disappointed.

"We cannot take the risk of doing anything irregular with Bolton around. You know how often he checks if we're doing something forbidden, looking for a good excuse to punish us. You don't want to upset him, do you?"

No answer came from the other cell, and he knew Tetch was shivering. Crane couldn't hep but smirk bitterly. It felt good being able to scare someone without his toxin, but the fact it was the thought of Bolton to scare him rather than him kind of ruined the moment.

"We'll have to wait until his next day off. It won't be fun having him around another week, but he shouldn't… not that way, at least. Wesker should be his next target. I'll… I mean, we'll be out before he turns that kind of attention back to us."

Tetch gave what sounded much like a relieved sigh. "Fine," he said. "What will we do next?"

"I have no idea," Crane admitted. "The only thing I can think of right now is that I want to get as far as possible from this place. Just one thing, Jervis – once we're out of here, we'll split up."

"But…"

"No buts – we'll go for separate ways, and that's final," Crane said firmly. He was not his babysitter, and there was no way he would look after him. Besides, two escaped Arkham inmates were easier to find than one. They'd both have better chances if each stayed on his own.

Tetch sighed. "Alright," he mumbled. Crane would tell he worried at the thought of being left alone outside, with no place to go, but he wasn't in the mood to listen to his concerns. Before he could voice them Crane put the brick back in place, preventing any further conversation.

With the hole gone, the Mad Hatter sighed and sank in his mattress, staring at the wall with glazed eyes.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat – how I wonder what you're at…"

Jonathan Crane awoke at the sound of a metallic click. Still half-asleep, he let out a low groan and tried to move – but for some reason he couldn't: something was holding his hands above his head.

His eyes suddenly snapped open, and he was completely awake within instants. Shock and utter terror took over his mind as he realized what the metallic click had been, and what the sudden coldness he felt around his wrists meant – he had been handcuffed to the bedpost.

And there was only one person who could be twisted enough to sneak inside his cell and chain in down to the bed.

Bolton.

He let out a panicked whimper as he recognized the massive figure looming over him. He could barely see his features in the dim light, but he could easily picture the grinning face staring down at him. He opened his mouth, all his sense telling him to scream, but no sound came out – not as Bolton's large hand gripped his neck, nearly chocking him.

"My advice to you," Bolton's harsh whisper echoed in the cell. "Don't make a sound. You don't want to make anyone nervous, do you?" he added smoothly, his grip around Crane's neck loosening slightly to let him breathe.

Crane drew in a rattling breath and nodded quickly, his eyes huge with fear. He was sure Bolton was grinning now – much like he used to do every time he had his victims trembling in front of him, mad with fear.

What did he want? Had he found out about the missing medicines? Had he understood what had happened? Had Jervis betrayed him? His eyes darted to the nightstand under which the medicines were hidden. It was still on the same spot as before.

"Good boy." Much to Crane's relief, Bolton drew back his hand and walked to the small bookshelf on the other wall of the cell, turning his back to him and the nightstand.

"Privileges," he muttered, as if the word left a nasty taste in his mouth. "What have you ever done in your life to deserve privileges, Crane? Probably nothing," he went on before the terrified inmate could think of what he should answer. Then again, he probably didn't expect any answer at all. "And yet you're allowed to have you books," he spat out the last word as if it was poison.

He turned back to the prisoner and reached to grab his red air, lifting him as much as the handcuffs permitted and causing a pained whimper to leave his lips. Crane gritted his teeth, trying to hold back any other sound.

"No wonder things were such a mess before I came here," he growled. "They are too kind to the lot of you. They think they can cure you – bullshit, if you ask to me. Scum like you must be kept in line, and it is exactly what I'm going to do."

He roughly threw Crane's back on the mattress. There was a dull thud as Crane's head hit the bedpost, and he could feel his consciousness slipping away. He could faintly hear a sound of ripped paper as Bolton turned his attention back to his books, then everything went blissfully black.

He awoke a few minutes later at the sound of the door of his cell being slammed closed again – Bolton had clearly decided he had done enough for that nigh. Crane was still chained and his head throbbed, but it could be worse. He gazed at the undisturbed nightstand, avoiding to look at the bookshelf; he had a good idea of what Bolton had done to his books. That sound of ripping paper had become damn familiar to him since when he was a child.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. At least he hadn't found the medicines: Crane refused to think about what could have happened if he had. He breathed a little easier as he thought about his imminent escape: in less than a week he would be free, and Bolton would only be a frightening memory.

He refused to think of what Bolton could do to him if he was caught and brought back in Arkham; the mere idea could be enough to make him panic, and last thing he needed now was a panic attack. Yes, there were risks involved - but he had to try, he had to get away from there. He couldn't just stay there and wait for –

"No, that's mine!" Jervis Tetch's voice, muffled by the wall, snapped him off his morbid thoughts. "That's my hat! Put it down! Put it down, you Jabber – ow!"

Crane gritted his teeth as he heard the sound of a smack, immediately followed by a pained yelp. It appeared that he hadn't been the only one Bolton had decided to visit and strip of all privileges, after all. He wondered if he had done the same to Harley Quinn and the Ventriloquist as well.

He had to admit he was rather surprised by the fact Tetch had dared to react: he was maniacally attached to his hat, but he didn't expect him to raise his voice with Bolton to get it back – not after what had happened recently anyway. But maybe he was just more stupid than he had thought.

Now he couldn't hear Tetch anymore. Either the blow had been powerful enough to make him pass out, or he had decided it would be better for him to just shut up. Crane grimaced as he heard once again a sound of ripping paper; Tetch's copy of Alice in Wonderland was most likely getting the same treatment his books had. He winced, still avoiding to look at what was left of his books.

There was the sound of steps, then the door of Tetch's cell was closed again. As Bolton's steps faded away, everything fell into Arkham's rare silence again – except for the sobs and whimpers that once again came from Jervis Tetch's cell.

"Wake up, you scum!"

Crane was roughly awakened by a smack on the side of the head. He yelped, knowing who it was even before he could open his eyes. He instinctively raised his hands to shield his head, and he had barely enough time to notice he was no longer handcuffed to the bedpost before Bolton grabbed the collar of his shirt and forced him to get up, placing the handcuffs in front of his eyes.

"I suggest you to get used to it – you and the ones like you are going to be chained down every night. Now you have thirty seconds to put on your uniform, get out of this door and get in your place in the row for breakfast. Not a single word about this," he shook the handcuffs in front of his eyes. "Or I'll make you regret the day you were born. Is everything perfectly clear to you?" he growled.

Crane swallowed and nodded, and Bolton let him go. He staggered back against the wall, his legs shaking as Bolton left of his cell. He heard the door of Tetch's cell opening, and he knew Jervis was getting his same treatment he had.

He took a deep breath, still trying to not look at what was left of his books, and immediately began to change in his uniform. He had quickly learned that disobeying to Bolton's orders would most likely have painful consequences. He wouldn't be surprised to find out he was really counting how many seconds it took him to get outside the door – he had done things like that before so he could have a reason to punish him.

As if he needed to make up a reason, Crane thought bitterly as he quickly took his place in the row slowly heading to the cafeteria, guards standing all around them. Thankfully Bolton was busy speaking with another guard, so he didn't glance in his direction. In his relief, Crane didn't notice Tetch was standing behind him until he spoke.

"He took my hat," he said flatly, causing Crane to wince. The Scarecrow turned to look at him: he didn't have his usual hat, obviously, and he looked like he hadn't slept for one single moment that night. There was a bruise on his cheekbone, most likely from when Bolton had hit him when he had tried to get his hat back.

"I know," Crane just said as the row began to move.

"And he ripped my book. Alice in Wonderland," his eyes were oddly glazed, and he sounded like he couldn't believe it yet. "Alice…"

"He ripped my books too, but you don't see me moping around about it, " Jonathan said sharply, ignoring the awful feeling in his guts each time he thought about it. Insults, beatings, ripped books – it was like school all over again, only a thousand times worse.

"I hate him."

Tetch's sudden comment cause Crane to blink and turn to look at him. "What?" he asked, surprised. When Tetch referred to Bolton, he was always terrified – never angered, for he was far too scared of him to be angered. Truth to be told, none of them could get past the fear enough to truly feel anger – not even him, the Scarecrow!

The thought caused Crane to grimace as he looked at Jervis. He looked more furious than he had ever seen him – and it was a rare sight, really. But this time, Bolton had gone too far: by taking away his hat and destroying his copy of Alice in Wonderland, he had achieved a result he hadn't achieved with all his abuses, not even with the rape. He had pushed the Hatter past the line between plain terror and hatred.

"Yes, I hate him," Jervis repeated, a bit surprised by his own boldness, then he blinked. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked.

Because you are the only one who can feel rage for this treatment instead of just terror. Because you are the only one whose rage overcame fear, while I am trapped in it, unable to feel anything else every time I think of Bolton. Because you just proved to have more guts than all of us. You proved to have more guts than me, the Scarecrow. Some master of fear I am.

"It's nothing," Jonathan said bitterly, turning away from him as they walked in the cafeteria. "Nothing important."

They stayed silent until they sat at the usual table, then Tetch was the first one to speak. "I can't wait to leave this place," he said quietly, causing Crane to shudder.

"Watch your tongue, you idiot – do you want to ruin everything?" he growled, glancing around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear them. "I told you – we'll be out of here soon, but until that moment keep your mouth shut, or I'm leaving you here. Did I make myself clear enough?"

Tetch swallowed and nodded, clearly terrified by the idea of being left behind.

"Hi, guys."

They both turned to see Harley sitting at the table. She was pale, and she looked nothing like her usual cheerful self – even her voice sounded somewhat hollow. When she sat and put her arms on the table, Crane could see the marks left by handcuffs on her wrist. In turn, she glanced at their faces.

"Looks like Bolton paid you a visit too, huh?" she said, absentmindedly playing with her food "I bet he took away your stuff and chained you."

"Looks like he paid a visit to each of his favorites," Crane spat the last word as if it left a nasty taste in his mouth, then he turned to glance around. "Where is Arnold?" he asked. He hadn't seen the Ventriloquist yet, and that was odd – he usually sat at their same table.

"He's been sedated – I was told he had panic attack or something after Bolton took away Scarface. It's not like it surprises me, it's like he can exist without that puppet instead of the other way around. Anyway, Bolton was forced to give it back to avoid trouble, and I doubt he's glad about it."

"I didn't hear him," Crane said, confused. Wesker's cell was rather close to his, and he would have heard him if he had a panic attack.

Harley bit her lower lip and turned her gaze away. "He was in Bolton's office," she finally said, causing a heavy silence to fall on the table. Surprisingly enough, Tetch was the first one to speak – he was full of surprises that morning, Crane thought.

"But you told me he wouldn't strike again for a while," he said, tuning to Crane. "You said he would wait before…" he paused and swallowed.

Crane frowned. "He usually does," he said, a worried look on his face. It looked like Bolton was getting tired of waiting too much before striking again – and that couldn't be good. That meant he probably had less time than he thought before he would turn his attention to him again. He exchanged a quick glance with Tetch, and he knew they were thinking the same thing.

They had to get away as soon as they could.

Five days later

"Almost done," Crane said with a satisfied expression as he carefully poured the liquid inside an empty inhalator Tetch had managed to steal from the infirmary together with the medicines. He nodded, satisfied. "I just have to let it rest now – it will be ready for the use in a few hours…just in time to be used on the guard."

"How will you make him get in, Jonathan?"

Crane grinned. "I have a lamp that isn't connected with the main switch – one privilege Bolton forgot to destroy. I'll keep the light on after the due hour, and the guard will surely notice."

"He could just order you to turn it off from outside."

"Oh, he won't – these guards just love to show us they have complete control over us. I'm sure he'll get in to threaten me, and I'll use some toxin on him. After I take the keys and open your cell, we have to start running. I'll use the toxin on every guard we may meet – once outside, we'll split up. Did you understand everything I said?"

There was a long silence. "Do we have…to do it today?" Tetch finally asked, clearly terrified.

"Today is Bolton's day off – it's the only day we can stand a chance of escaping until next week...and I'm not going to wait until then knowing he could strike in any moment. Besides, they could check the medicines and find out some are missing… it rarely happens, but we can't take the risk. Not to mention that this toxin is very rudimentary – it won't be effective in a few days. We have to try tonight."

"How will I know when it's the moment?"

"It won't be difficult to understand, you'll hear a guard screaming in terror over here just before I open your cell," Crane laughed a bit maniacally. "Nobody will realize what happened until it's too late – they'll think it's some inmate screaming. Too bad I cannot stay to taste their fear…"

Tetch took a deep breath. "I understand," he said, then he turned up to stare at the ceiling. "What are you going to do when we're out of here?"

Crane just shrugged. "I have no idea," he said. He definitely wasn't going to get back to crime for a while – he wasn't going to take the risk of being caught and sent back in Arkham as long as Bolton was there. For now, his priority was to just get as far as he could from him and hide. "What about you?"

"I'm going to have a tea party," the Hatter said immediately, causing Crane to chuckle. He should have expected him to say something like that – he wasn't allowed to drink tea or anything with caffeine in there, and he often whined about how much better a good cup of tea would make him feel.

"I should have guessed," Crane finally said. There was a brief silence before Tetch spoke again.

"You know…we could bring Harley with us," he said tentatively.

On the other side of the wall Crane just frowned, his gaze still fixed on the inhalator filled with toxin. "We cannot do that – her cell is too far from here. We would lose too much time, and we would have to face too many guards."

"But we have your toxin…"

"We don't have much of it, and it's not very powerful – it would keep the guards out of the way just for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. We're going to have to be as quick as possible."

"Oh," Tetch bit his lower lip. "I don't want to leave her here," he suddenly said, sounding like a stubborn child that refuses to leave without a toy.

Crane snorted. "If you want to stay and play the knight in the shining armour, feel free to do so – but you'll have to do it alone, because I'd leave you behind," he paused. "It's because she resembles your secretary, right? She reminds you of Alice."

No answer came from the other cell, and Crane knew he was right. He carefully put the inhalator down and turned to the hole in the wall. "Listen here and listen close, Jervis," he said slowly. "I don't like the idea of leaving her in Bolton's hands any more than you do. I don't like the idea of leaving Wesker here either, and God knows how much I loathe that second personality of his. But if we stop just for a moment to help any of them, we'll be caught – do you have the slightest idea of what Bolton would do to us then?"

He heard Tetch swallowing. "I do," he said, his voice awfully weak.

"Good – keep that thought in mind, and fear it. It will help you to run faster."

Tetch swallowed again. "We could try to help them when we're out… you know, if anything happens to Bolton, they would be safe…"

Crane shrugged. "Again, if you want to do something, I'm not going to protest – but you're not going to drag me into anything that could result with me getting back in this hellhole, and anywhere near Bolton."

"I don't mean we should do anything personally, we just…well…" he hesitated. "Do you remember when we talked about what the Joker could do should he know what Bolton did to Harley?"

Crane blinked, then he grinned. "He would be furious because Bolton dared to touch his…possession. He would go to any lengths to make him pay." His grin widened. "You have a point, Jervis. As much as Bolton is like a god in this hell, he's nothing but a mortal outside."

"He could have a weapon," Tetch pointed out, but he was clearly cheered up by the idea of Bolton getting what he deserved.

"That's likely – the ones like him always have a weapon with them… but this never stopped the Joker," he said, delighted by the thought. They could let the Joker know what Bolton had done to his girlfriend once they were outside – it would be like signing Bolton's death warrant, and he couldn't wait to do it. It would be perfect: a painful death for Bolton, and no need for him to get anywhere near that animal again.

The fact he was too scared of Bolton to get revenge by himself even though he liked being referred as the Master of Fear was somewhat humiliating, but he ignored it.

"So…we're going to tell the Joker what happened, aren't we?" Tetch asked hopefully.

Crane grimaced. "For the last time, Jervis, once we're out of here, there will be no 'we' or 'us'. Do whatever you please. It will be none of my business," he said, and grabbed the brick to put it back in place. "Now shut up, I've had enough of your chattering. Remember the plan and don't mess up."

But of course, Jervis did mess up. And he messed up in such a stupid way that Crane wouldn't have believed it hadn't he witnessed what had happened with his own eyes. It was a dark, stormy night – the most cliché of nights, indeed – and the pouring rain was making the ground slippery made it more difficult to run in the dark. Tetch had clumsily stumbled on the slippery muddy ground while running, breaking his ankle when they were barely outside Arkham's gate, and now he couldn't walk.

It was such a cliché that, had it happened to anyone else and under any other circumstance, Crane would have found it incredibly funny other than pathetic – but right now he didn't find it funny at all.

"Jervis – let me go!" he growled again, trying to break free from Tetch's grasp, cursing himself for being stupid enough to instinctively stop running as he saw the Hatter falling on the ground. That brief hesitation had been enough for the terrified man to grab his ankle.

Tetch's grasp just tightened at Crane's words. "Don't leave me here!" he begged, his eyes filled with so much terror that Crane couldn't help but briefly think he would have been made a great subject for his experiments on fear. He tried to break free again, but it was useless – even though Tetch wasn't really strong, he was still much stronger than he was.

"I don't want him to get me," Tetch whined, sobbing both for the pain and the terror. "Help me!"

"Tetch, I can't help you – I can't drag you away, we wouldn't get far!" he said, starting to panic – it was just a matter of moments before the toxin's effect finished and some guard gave the alarm, and then all of Gotham's police would be after him... not to mention Batman, of course. "If you don't let me go now they'll get us both – he'll get us both, and we'll never have another chance!"

Crane cringed as the siren began to howl – the alarm had been given. They would be out looking for them in no time, and if they caught him… he swallowed and tried again. "Jervis, if they get me as well we're not going to escape again – let me go, and I'll make you break out! I promise I will," he lied, trying to sound reasonable rather than terrified and praying he would believe him. "If you don't let me go now, there won't be a chance for any of us!"

It was a lie, of course – he was not going to risk being caught again to get him or anyone else out: the thought of having to face Bolton again was enough to terrify him… but he hoped Tetch would believe him despite what he had told him a few hours back; he could be naïve enough to believe what nobody else would.

Much to his relief, Tetch's grip around his ankle slackened just a little – it was clear he wanted to believe him. If the Scarecrow managed to escape he still had a chance, however slim, to get some help. Besides, he seemed to understand that there was nothing Crane could do for him now. "Don't forget us," he pleaded, and for a moment Crane almost felt guilty for leaving him and the others there.

Almost.

"I won't," he said, a wonderful sense of relief taking over his mind as Tetch finally let him go, letting his hand fall on the mud. Crane took a step backwards and hesitated just for a moment before turning and running away as fast as he could, leaving the Mad Hatter behind and trying to not think of what was going to happen to the poor fellow as soon as he had to face Bolton again.