'High Level Security Patient, Jonathan Crane has recently escaped from Arkham Asylum. Police have sent out a warning that he is highly dangerous, and if sighted to make contact immediately. Gotham citizens are warned to avoid the slums, staying as close to the city as possible…'

I stared at the screen, wide eyed and confused. Did they just say…Jonathan had escaped? Oh shit.

I looked at the pen sitting on my table and hurried over, trying to click it. Stupid thing. Useless thing. It was probably just jammed.

I unscrewed it and laid all the parts out. Everything was there…except for the spring.

"Bastard!"

"Now now, Enyo. There's no need for that kind of language."

I froze, wide eyed, and turned, though it was pointless. I already knew exactly who was standing behind me.

"You used the spring from my pen to pick the lock." My voice was deadpan, void of anything.

"Well done. I see your skills of deduction are working well."

I eyed him suspiciously, not moving. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights; like somehow not moving and staring at him with wide eyes would stop the inevitable collision.

"You look…surprised. A pity. I would have assumed that your psychoanalytical little brain would have figured out what I was doing long before it even happened." My lips pursed together, and a cocky smile gathered at his mouth, "Ahh…you did. I believe you're experiencing denial about it though."

I scowled and looked away, tearing myself away from the icy depths of his gaze before I froze over completely.

In some way…I had seen it coming. As soon as the TV had announced his escape, some part of me knew…or wanted…him to come here. Some part of me also told me that I'd subconsciously been helping him.

"You did help me. I assume that's what you're annoyed. All that trust you gave me…it only started after I'd opened up to you, and you to me. Perhaps you gave me too much trust. Perhaps you knew by doing this there was a large possibility I'd escape. You were always the one to hand me the pen. Without you, I'd still be in Arkham."

The words sunk in and I slid down into my sofa, head in hands.

"Don't act like the victim here."

Anger surged through me and I shot straight back up to my feet.

"I am not acting like the victim! I'm just a little bit worried that I am currently harbouring a highly dangerous convict in my house, let alone probably being one of the prime suspects for the case. Everybody noticed how much trust I gave you. I heard the rumours. Apparently I'm the next Harley Quinn."

His eyes became slits, and he swiftly moved towards me, seizing my arms before I could even process what was happening.

"Shut up. You're avoiding everything. You wanted this to happen. Subconsciously or no, you need to accept that you wanted this. You're so tired of your mundane life- trust me, that was easy to pick up on, even in the first few sessions. You forget that I'm a psychiatrist too. I know you. You wanted this."

A silence followed his words, tense and uncomfortable. I stared at the wall for a while, trying not to notice the vice-like grip he had on my wrists.

"How did you know my name?" His eyebrow raised at the question. I kept my eyes fixed on the wall.

"A guard said it once. I assumed it was correct. An interesting name." I shrugged.

"My parents were into Greek mythology."

"A war goddess, was she not? A consort of Ares?" I nodded and he smirked once more.

"How fitting." I sent him a curious look, and he elaborated, "Fitting, because it appears that you are indeed consorting with chaos."

Blue and red lights flashed against my window, and I jumped, moving away from the glass, despite not being that near it in the first place.

"You have a choice now. Choose wisely. You can either follow me or stay here. You figure out the implications."

My eyes flitted between the door of my apartment to Jonathan, my teeth beginning to scrape at my bottom lip.

"I'm on one of the highest floors. It'll take them about five minutes to get up. Do I have time to get my stuff?" He shook his head and I sighed, "Cat?" I glanced at Nyx, my little black cat, who had begun to purr as she wound her way around Jonathan's legs. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head, and I let out a huff.

"She'll follow anyway. How do you propose we get out?"

A wicked grin formed on his lips, and I suddenly remembered that I was dealing with a high level security mental patient.

"Time to put our little trust exercises to work."