A/N- right i know im building this up massively but i promise Raven and Crane will meet properly in the next chapter, story has been established, let me know in reviews any ideas or constructive criticisms you have, as always be sure to follow, favourite or whatever and if you're still wondering who the hell this Ophelia chick is i urge you to go look on my favorites for a story titled "university" by seventhsister - enjoy! :D

Chapter 5

Two and a half weeks had passed by the time Crane woke up in bed. Not that he had any idea of how long it had been. Minutes? Years? All he knew was that he was warm, safe and alive, needless he was not happy about this at all. He was FINALLY free, he could move past his anger and on to whatever's next where his Ophelia was waiting for him… Yet here he was. If he wasn't so damn tired he'd trash the room and everything in it. But he settled for simply taking note of his surroundings instead, indignant and childish destruction can come later... he appeared to be In some sort of infirmary, definitely not any general hospital that's for sure. The walls were concrete and the various medical equipment and monitors were far more sophisticated than anything he had ever seen in Arkham, let alone a hospital, hell some of it even looked hand-made; Crane had to admit he was impressed by how intricate some of it looked. Crane took stock of the situation, whoever was taking care of him, they were well-funded and either of genius intellect or very well connected, maybe both, judging by the lack of windows and the general feel of the room he'd say he was underground... And most importantly, whoever was holding him as either their patient or prisoner hadn't realised he had come around yet.

Crane grinned and sat upright in his bed and was instantly rewarded with a lightning bolt of pain ricocheting around his skull damn near blinding him and turning the volume up from the slightest beep from that damned monitor to unbearable levels, wait… Lightning bolt… The storm! The sea! The asylum… The tower on this island… It all flooded back to him in pulses, at the rate of his rapidly increasing heartbeat, he remembered it all, he escaped that …Thing, in the sewers of the asylum and fell into the sea, and was carried by the waves to the tower, he got inside and collapsed on the floor, the memory was coming back to him, getting sharper and detail and confidence with every moment.

There was something else too, not a memory more like a nightmare fleeing his grasp upon awakening. There was a room, and there was lightning, it was hot… Fire was everywhere around him pouring upwards into the air in jets and cascading off a ceiling.. then there was chanting, demonic chanting, not coming as sound through his ears but reverberating around his skull like a noise, a message of pure evil… he couldn't help but wonder if he was in hell for a moment or two…but that wouldn't make sense, they don't have infirmary's this nice in hell, Crane dismissed his nightmare (along with the image of Satan in a doctors uniform writing out prescriptions for eternal damnation to be taken once a lifetime with meals) as a rather amusing side effect of whatever anesthesia they gave him for his… Oh Christ his hand! He looked under the covers and saw the shape of a hand on the end of his wounded arm, covered in bandages, did he just imagine it being bitten clean off then? With his free hand he started to unravel bandages layer by layer running from his elbow, down his arm, to his wrist and finally ( was he holding his breath?! Idiotic behaviour ) his hand, he started to unravel the last of the bandages and they all just slumped off his hand in a heap, except it wasn't his hand, or anybody's hand for that matter, he didn't imagine it… His arm was bitten off, and it would appear whatever technical genius who made those monitors took a minute to craft him a fully functioning robotic hand, it was a true marvel of engineering, a metal framework with the same skeletal structure of the human hand running into stump of his arm at the wrist! Crane was in awe as he lifted the hand up to the light so he could study it better, it was a little weighty but nowhere near as heavy as it looked. He tried to flex his fingers… But it would appear it's going to take some practice to get it working properly because the only movement that he could manage was a slight twitch in his little finger None the less it was clear to Crane he owed a huge debt of gratitude to the mysterious mechanical mastermind behind the technology that saved his life and gave him back a right hand.

Crane thought was interrupted by one of the monitors he was rigged up to which beeped twice abruptly and said in a mechanical voice "administering." Administering what? Then he saw the liquid flowing from an IV above his bed down a tube into his good arm, figures, he noticed everything there was to notice in the room but didn't stop and look at the great big needle sticking out of his arm. Crane decided, uncharacteristically, to accept his current situation, while he wasn't dead he was clearly in no fit state to be going anywhere or doing anything. Besides, it would appear he stumbled into the right tower at the right near death experience because whoever found him seemed to be taking good care of him. Crane settled down, made himself comfortable and waited for whatever drugs they were pumping him full of to take effect. Annoyingly he was kind of enjoying the feeling of not caring and the optimism that came from the sedatives as they took hold of him, it felt like a weight that had been on his shoulders for many years had finally been eased, he felt free from the vengeful vice that had all but consumed him for all these years. He knew the feeling would never last, but for now he just let it slide. His eyelids became impossible to hold open and the all too familiar frightening feeling of darkness claiming his world, he drifted peacefully off to the sleep for the first time in what had been far too long, with nothing but a nonchalant "goodnight" to the shadowy corner with the striking purple eyes that were watching him the entire time.