What happened to me?

Author's comments: Well it has been a while, I have been on holiday and way from my keyboard. I have desided that after this chapter I will be changing this story to a mature rating because there is going to be a lot more violence, some swearing (from Scarecrow mainly) and possible future smut. (I also want to mention the droog reference, I know that isn't a direct quote and doesn't work in the sense that droog means friend and Alex doesn't talk about himself in that way, but I couldn't think of or find a quote that I liked and fitted so I did a mix. I hope you'll understand!)

Thank you to everyone who has faved, followed and commented on this story, it means so very much to me!

Samiantha- I hope you'll like the confrontation in this chapter :D

Morgann- Thank you so much for your feedback, I really worry that the back and forth in time is confusing, I'll have to go back on the previous chapters and try to sort it out. Bold is usually Scarecrow and Italics is usually Crane (though sometimes when Claire is on her own and talks to herself this appears in Italics too). I seem to be having a little issue when uploading as sometimes not all the Italics say as Italics. I need to try and correct this too, thank you for bringing it to my attention and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Blueberrytoast- Thank you so much! :D

C0nt0rt3dM1nd- Sorry this update took so long and thank you for your kind words, there's going to be a lot more the needle type think in the chapter 7 (which I'm editing at the moment) I really hope you like the update!

OH ME OH MY- Thank you so much for your lovely words!

DearNoah- Thank you so much for your comment, it means so much to me that you like Claire (I kind of end up hating any OC I write) I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Claire didn't quite remember the details of how she got to the hospital; the fine points were hazy to say the least.

She remembered Daniels talking on his radio while Tarrant held down the man that had attacked her, nurses injected him with clear liquid.

She how you like it.

She remembered saying she was fine, insisting she didn't have to go to the hospital, knowing that Grace was working there today.

An asylum doctor checked over her arm. "You've torn your median cubital vein."

"My what?" The doctor frowned at her before taking her pulse.

"She's in minor shock."

I wish they wouldn't talk like I'm not here.

But she mainly remembered Andrea being there, her flame orange hair like the setting sun.

"What are you doing here?" Lawson had been waiting to give Claire a lift and had entered the asylum reception when she was late.

"I don't want to go to the hospital-"

"You're going. We need blood work." Andrea said bluntly, she left little room to be argued with.

Claire sighed. "Just don't take me to Gotham general."

They took her to Gotham general.

The hospital had been rebuild in record time with a Harvey Dent memorial wing.

"Well the good news is the damage to your arm is superficial and you won't need stitches." The doctor at Gotham hospital bandaged her right arm.

"Any bad news?"

"We'll need to take some blood samples."

"Well, as long as you're a bit more gentle than the last guy."

The physician smiled and took the blood from her left arm. Claire watched as the vials filled.

"We're also going to need you to stay over night." Claire pulled a face. "You're still in chock and-"

"I'm fine."

"Listen to the doctor." Andrea said, she had barely left Claire's side.

She looked up at Lawson. "Are you my new body guard?"

"If you like kid." She placed a hand on Claire's shoulder. "But you're staying." The younger woman opened her mouth to protest. "No excuses. Besides, I know the real reason you don't want to stay is that you don't want to worry your sister. I called her before we got here." She crossed her arms triumphantly.

Claire scowled and grumbled. "I'm sure there are people who need the bed more than me."

"I doubt you could even get home." Andrea mock scowled back at her.

"Tell me your address." The doctor watches as Claire relayed I quickly and easily.

"That's not where you live." Claire frowned. "I've dropped you off plenty of time to know that."

Claire rubbed her eyes. "No… that's my sister's address… I used to live there…"

"Let's get you to your room."

She barely remembered getting changed into the thin hospital nightgown and she didn't recall getting in to bed, just that she was in it.

"I've got to be at work at…" She frowned, trying to remember the details.

"I've sorted it." Andrea said.

"Do you think whatever was in that injection effected my memory?" Claire sounded half-asleep.

"Shh." She soothed. "It's just the shock."

Claire wasn't sure if she believed her. "Is it okay that you're here?"

"It's fine, we look after officers that are down."

"I'm not an officer yet." Lawson smiled but said nothing.

"Claire!" Grace rushed into the room and gripped her sibling in a tight embrace. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Grace studied her with piercing brown eyes. "Really, I'm fine." She waved her right arm in the air. "Don't even need stitches."

"I've gotta go." Andrea said, politely nodding at Grace. "I'll see you later Claire."

"Bye." She said and glanced at the dark sky framed by windows.

When did it get so late?

"I've called Dad." Grace said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"You what? I'm fine."

"Claire." Grace sighed. "God knows what was in that needle and-"

"I know." Claire stared at her pleadingly. "Please, I'm trying not to think about it."

Grace nodded after a moment, it seemed like Claire was nine again, the constant, ' "I'm fine." ', the continuous tough guy act.

"Your test results are clean so far and you don't have an air bubble, the police are testing the needle." She swallowed. "But most things need ten hours plus to be sure."

Claire nodded, on autopilot. "Thanks for telling me."

"No problem." Grace sat on the bed next to her, shoving her sibling in the shoulder to get her to move up and give her more space. Claire giggled.

"I'm going to swing by yours later and get you some clothes for tomorrow. Anything you want in particular?"

"Whatever's clean." Grace laughed.

"Sure thing."

"How did Dad sound?" Claire fidgeted, readjusting her position.

"Worried, but good. Him and Cillia are getting the next plane down in the morning."

"Oh god, I don't want him to worry, I-"

"You'd do the same." Grace said.

"I know it's just Dad's got work and-"

"He doesn't care about that Claire." The younger woman sighed and Grace put her arm around her.

"How's Ben?" Claire asked.

"He's good." Grace smiled and touched her wedding ring subconsciously. "You remember after Mum died?"

"Hmm?"

"All that driving?"

"Yeah?"

Grace said nothing for a moment, a far away look settled in her eyes, as if she was dreaming. "Can you bare another injection?" Claire looked at her, confused. "It will help you sleep."

Claire chuckled. "Sure, why not?" Grace pulled a needle out of her pocket and uncapped it.

"Sleep well." There was a small sting of pressure, Claire winced.

"Goodnight." Grace kissed her on the forehead like she used to when Claire was little. After their mother died, Grace at seventeen had become a surrogate parent to her younger sister.

"I'll stay until you nod off."

"Thanks." Claire muttered, the drugs beginning to take effect.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite." Claire grinned, here eyes closing. Bed bugs…

Six weeks previously.

"-bed bugs."

"I'm sorry?" Claire blushed a little, embarrassed that she hadn't been paying full attention and looked away from the clock on the far wall.

"I didn't say anything." Doctor Crane cocked his head to the side and smiled politely.

She's eating out the palm of our hand.

Of course she is.

Claire shook her head slightly before checking her notebook. "Your doctors would like you to try a new psychotic medicine."

Are they too afraid to ask us face to face?

I hope so.

Scarecrow laughed.

"Tell them that's fine." He sighed.

Lay it on thick.

I intend to.

"Though I doubt it will have much effect." He had exposed himself to so many chemicals over the years, most accidental, plus experiencing a dose of his own medicine when 'The Bat Man' forced him to inhale his own toxin, that no psychotic medicine he had come across ever reacted as it was meant to. And Scarecrow never left him.

Claire nodded and scribbled a sentence into her notebook.

"Do you want it to?" She glanced up at him.

"No." Claire's face tensed in slight confusion, Crane already knew what she was going to ask but let her get there herself anyway.

You do pick the dense ones Johnny.

"Why?"

"I used to be a psychiatrist, to fix my shattered psyche both personalities have to blend back into one. I don't want his violence… his nefarious qualities. I don't want to be one."

Someone give him an Oscar.

Jonathan smiled inwardly.

"He's like, 'You Humble Narrator, the droog Alex', without the love of Beethoven." He watched Claire's bank expression.

Seriously Johnny, a dead cat has more brains.

" 'A Clockwork Orange' by Anthony Burgess?" He said.

"Oh," Claire's face lit up with realization. "I'm sorry, I haven't read it. I've only seen the film."

Doctor Crane smirked. "No matter, I haven't seen the film. I'll have to watch it and you'll have to read it."

Claire smiled. "That sounds good." She pushed her hair behind her ear; her cheeks had just a hint of crimson to them.

You think she bought it?

Of course. Poor naïve girl didn't stand a chance. She thinks I'm broken and charming and so damaged that only she can fix me… I'll bleed her dry.

Scarecrow cackled. And she thinks I'm the violent one.

Inwardly Crane smiled a nightmare smile.

Claire woke to the sound of loud talking. She opened her eyes but quickly screwed them up tight at the bright sunshine coming in through the windows, the back of her eyes burned like the onset of a migraine.

She swore quietly and rubbed her face before trying to look at the room again. It all seemed too vivid, too harsh like someone had turned up the resolution.

"I'm sorry but this is outside visiting hours and-"

"I know that but-" Claire recognized Andrea's voice.

"No buts, Doctor Roberts insisted that-"

"It's fine," Claire called, loud enough to be heard and sat up in bed. "Let them come in." She rubbed her eyes again and slowly opened them.

Andrea, Commissioner Gordon and a slightly pissed off nurse walked into the room. Claire suddenly felt very self-conscious that she had just woken up and ran a hand through her hair. She was surprised that the nurse had said no to the Commissioner.

The lights were still too bright, but bearable.

"Miss Lamont," the nurse began. "Doctor Roberts gave specific instructions that-"

"Tell Grace I'm fine. Besides I'm not in intensive care or asleep so the police can see me at any time. The nurse looked vaguely annoyed but nodded and walked out of the room. Claire felt a pang of guilt.

She's just going her job.

"How are you feeling?" Andrea asked, pulling two chairs over to the side of the bed.

"Good." She lied and glanced at Gordon, fidgeting nervously with her hands. If he had come all the way to see her something must be up.

"Good. So far we haven't found anything on the needle, no toxins, no bacteria… not to say that we won't but…" Andrea trailed off and shrugged. "It seems as though you could be in the clear."

Claire looked relieved and tried not to think about the 'could be' too much.

"We also got the results on Sam Crinton…" Andrea trailed off again and looked at Gordon.

"He was poisoned." The Commissioner said. "You were right."

Claire balled her hands into fists, her nails digging into the fleshy parts of her palms. She swallowed but the salvia stuck in her throat. "What with?"

"A chemical compound similar to the type Crane produced." Claire breathed heavily, trying to fight the urge to vomit. "Though this one had a concentrated dosage. Whoever administered it to Crinton had to be very close to him. It seems that he had a preexisting heart condition, the toxin pushed it over the edge and caused cardiac arrest, which caused the car crash. The poison was slow acting and could have been on his system for hours before he died." Gordon paused. "I wanted to let you know in person."

Claire nodded, trying to keep her focus as both police officers watched her. She hoped it was out of concern for her welfare and not her sanity.

"What time is it?" Claire asked.

"Half ten." Lawson replied, checking her watch.

"I've got a meeting with Doctor Crane at twelve."

A look of pure disgust crossed Andrea's face. "You can't really be thinking of going to it?!"

"I can handle Crane." She hoped that she at least sounded confident to them.

Hubris will get you killed.

"Besides yesterday he almost admitted to being involved in Simon Crinton's car crash." Claire glanced at Gordon, knowing she was admitting to not following his advice but he said nothing and just raised his eyebrows slightly.

"I'll have to admit, I'm a little uneasy about you keeping the meeting…" Gordon said, Claire wallowed uneasily. "But if you're sure."

"I am." He studied her for a moment showing an expression she just couldn't place.

"Alright, I'll call Quinzel and tell her everything is a go."

"Thank you." Claire breathed deeply and tried to settle the knot tightening in her stomach.

"We'll let you get ready." Gordon stood Lawson following suit her face like thunder. "McKenzie and Lawson will escort you." He said, the implication clear that he didn't trust the staff at Arkham.

They walked to the door, Gordon turning at the last minute. "Can't wait 'til your full time Lamont, you can talk with Arkham instead of me."

Claire grinned. "Sure thing."

Grace had left her clothes on the side table with a note on top. 'Hope these are ok. You really need to do laundry. G x.' Claire smiled and looked through the garments. She shook her head slightly when she saw that Grace had chosen the only bra and underwear Claire owned that matched. They were teal with black lace and didn't have cartoon animals on them, like all of her other undergarments. Claire grinned and shook her head again.

She had a shower in the en-suite, which was nearly as big as the bedroom in her flat before getting dressed in smart black trousers and a soft grey-blue top.

The light was still too bright, but there was no sickening pain to imply a migraine. She sighed and rebound her arm with a fair sized piece of melolin and medical tape that Grace had left for her by her clothes. The small wound was healing well and only twinged slightly when she straightened her arm. Her left hand's knuckles were a little stiff from where she had punched her attacker. She flexed it twice but paid it no more attention.

The drive to Arkham was a quiet one, Andrea was still giving Claire the silent treatment and McKenzie never spoke much. Claire didn't mind she was content to stare out of the window at Gotham as it flew past.

It was only when they entered the grounds that the nerves really kicked in. Claire bit the skin around her thumb furiously as they walking into the asylum. Doctor Quinzel was waiting for them.

This can't be good.

"Good morning Doctor Quinzel."

"Good morning Claire." She was a little taken a back that the psychiatrist has used her first name. "I'm so sorry about the incident yesterday and I assure you that I have made sure that nothing like it will happen again." It was quite clear than Doctor Quinzel was choosing to simply ignore the two police officers. "I've doubled the security today." The small group began to walk to the main door, Quinzel gave a sharp look to the receptionist who opened the door quickly. "I really commend your dedication by coming in today."

"It's fine." Claire pushed her hair behind her ear, blushing slightly.

Quinzel gave her a small smiled.

Four guards were waiting for them on the other side of the door, two Claire didn't know, the others were Johnson and Brent.

"Hi Claire, I heard about what happened yesterday, are you alright?" Brent gushed.

"I'm good, thanks."

"Good." Brent let out a breath her didn't know he'd been holding before looking at Doctor Quinzel's stern expression.

The eight of them walked down the corridor in silence, Quinzel's look of disgust hushing the group.

Claire glanced at the doctor as they walked, frowning slightly. She had her blonde hair pulled into a precise bun and there seemed to be a spot of white just behind her left ear. Make up? Claire's frown deepened. Face paint? Like a clo- Doctor Quinzel glanced at her, sensing that someone was looking. Claire looked away quickly, embarrassed.

"You'll be in a higher security room," Quinzel said. "It's closer too."

"That doesn't sound saver." Andrea interrupted; the doctor stared at her. "Less doors." Quinzel smiled at the police officer, her eyes darkly sinister and said nothing.

Brent and another guard entered their passcodes outside the interview room. The door buzzed and Claire walked through.

"Hiya Claire." She swallowed as the door clicked shut behind her.

"Hello Scarecrow." He grinned at her, his smile the most menacing thing she had ever seen, his hands under the table.

"How ya doin'?" He said, mocking her. He stared at the small white bandage around her arm, his smile widening.

She wished she had a longer top of a jacket to hide it.

Claire breathed in deeply, trying to calm her nerves. "I need to talk to Doctor Crane, Scarecrow."

"It's not me you've got to convince honey." He said distastefully, Claire sat down opposite him.

"Doctor Crane?" Scarecrow watched her. She swallowed. "Jonathan?"

His jaw clenched, his face changed subtly, becoming Crane. He sat up straighter in his chair, his hands still under the table.

"How nice to see you Miss Lamont." He smirked. "Where's your little recorder today?" He ridiculed. Claire said nothing, trying to compose her words. "At least it was a clean needle."

She froze her hand lingering on her bandage.

I think her heads gonna explode Johnny.

"You…"

"I heard you broke his nose," he said matter of factly. "That's quite an accomplishment."

"I…I…"

"That is what you planned to ask, isn't it?" He looked at her like she was an insolent child. "You wanted to know id I had anything to do with it."

There was a pause.

"Why?" She finally managed to stammer out. Crane smiled.

Look how she squirms Johnny.

"You see, Miss Lamont," he leaned forward in his seat. "Out of the hundreds of thousands of billions of equally genetically boring people, approximately three in every million have a naturally occurring Ketrmin deficiency, just like your Mother."

His eyes seemed to shimmer in a warped excitement, almost giving off their own light. "This condition is sometimes passed on to their offspring, about a one in a two hundred and ten chance."

Claire's mind raced, trying to figure out Crane's end game.

"However, occasionally something far more interesting occurs. The unborn fetus, sharing its parent's deficiency 'adapts'. Through a miracle of genetic lottery it nucleic acids order to produce Blauium."

Claire fidgeted slightly; there was something about Crane's tone that was deeply unnerving. He was too calm, too prepared with that tiny smirk inclining his lips. His piercing eyes never left her.

"A chemical that behaves like Ketermin the way that it regulates the bodies liver function." Claire frowned in confusion.

"And, perhaps most interestingly, Blauium's chemical structure is almost identical to a certain blue flower that only grows in selective parts of Asia."

"I don't understand.' Claire said, her skin tingling like she had walked through cobwebs. Doctor Crane gave her a pitying smirk.

"I'll make it simple for you, Miss Lamont," he leaned forward in his seat, his face dark. "The only physical symptom of Blauium is dark blue irises, much like yours. It seems the chemical dyes it."

Claire's mouth opened and closed slightly.

It'll take her all day Johnny.

"And while I-"

We.

"Was quite sure that you were a carrier after you told me-"

Us.

"That your Mother had a Ketermin deficiency, I always prefer to safe than sorry." He paused, observing her reaction. Claire swallowed.

"Which," Jonathan continued. "Was why you were injected with a mixture of saline, adrenaline and a few base chemicals. It is completely harmless, but may have effected your mental processing for six hours or so, a slightly haziness."

"If it was completely harmless, why do it?" Crane smiled not his usual smirk but a full-blown leer. It made Claire want to run and hide and scream.

Look at her tremble Johnny.

"Look up." She glanced upwards automatically before she could stop herself. There was a dark brown coloured stain on the ceiling that looked like a sunflower.

"There." Crane breathed out, pleased. Claire's attention snapped back to the doctor.

"The base chemicals bind to the Blauium," he explained. "And as your body flushes them out of your system it leaves a residue, a slightly shimmer of purple in the irises." Claire could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as the fight or flight urge began to take over. "You may also be experiencing sensitivity to light." He said, matter of faculty, sounding like an advert of an off brand medication.

"I don't understand," Claire balled her hands into fists. "What does it matter if I'm related to a plant?"

She's not getting it Johnny.

Crane scoffed and decided not to bother to explain it to the young woman again. "Why do you think I made our last session run over? Why wouldn't Johnson let you out of the secure wing?" Claire froze. "Why did Brent delay you?"

The room began to spin and her stomach began to churn, bitter bile burned her throat. She glanced briefly at the panic button underneath the table.

You need to push her harder Johnny.

"Brent?" She managed to stammer.

At least she's getting it now.

"You've become oddly comfortable here." He frowned slightly as id confused. His tone, that of a caring doctor, mocked her.

"I, I…" The hairs on the back of Claire's neck stood upright, she could feel her breathing becoming unsteady. Crane was too calm, too composed, too in control.

"You used to be so paranoid." Slowly, ever so slowly, he placed his hands on the table. They were unbound, no silver metal binding his wrists. Claire's' eyes widened, all her muscles tensing at once.

Like a lamb ready for the slaughter.

Crane smiled.

Isn't she just?

The moment dragged out, Claire's eyes stinging before she refused to blink.

Crane smirked and couldn't resist jutting his hands forward half and inch. It was the push she needed. Claire let out a silent scream as she smacked the panic button with the palm of her hand.

There was a buzz, a comforting click as the door opened. Jonathan couldn't help but chuckle at Claire's terrified face.

She slowly turned her head to look at the door; there was no one there. No guards, nothing. She heard a distant buzz and clicks before turning back to Crane.

"You wouldn't think it would be so easy to rewriter an alarm to the door override mechanism for this floor." Claire swallowed; Jonathan watched her, his eyes dark like a vulture, drinking in her fear.

He moved quicker than Claire could see, one moment perfectly still, the next lunging at her, his fingernails gracing her cheek.

She pushed her self backwards, using the table, away from his venomous claws. Her breath caught in her throat, her legs weak. She tried to stand and run but her feet caught around the legs of the chair, bringing her crashing to the hard ground. Her left wrist bore the brunt of it, a shooting pain shot up her limb.

Jonathan walked slowly over to her, savoring the situation, almost tasting the panic on his tongue. It was a lighting purple and nightmare yellow with the after taste of lemons.

Claire scrambled up, her shoes slipping on the floor in her rush but he was already blocking her exit.

Her heart hammered in her chest like it was ready to explode, each beat radiating through her whole body, vibrating in her fingers.

Just like a rabbit in a snare Johnny.

Her eyes darted from his face to the door, her mind trying to process why no one was coming.

Jonathan moved slowly towards her when Claire lashed out, like a concealed viper, with her left fist.

He caught hold of her he left wrist easily, as she moved out of the way of the blow, and twisted in one fluid motion. Claire shrieked as the bruised flesh sent electric shock of pain into her mind. He grinned twisted further, his fingers tightening, unmovable as metal. Claire heard something snap before she felt it. Black and purple spots formed in front of her vision as the agony attacked her consciousness and churned her stomach.

Show time.

She barely had time to look up and realize that Scarecrow now stood before her. He raised his hand and sprayed her in the face.

The mist hit the back of her throat before she could react. The taste was bitter. She coughed and fell to the floor, her body convulsing. Scarecrow leaned over her, his breath hot on her face.

"Now Claire," he traced her jaw line with his index finger. "I just know how much you'll appreciate how hard it is to get the right chemicals for my toxin in a place like this." He grinned, his eyes wild.

Claire fought to keep her eyes open as breathing became harder and harder.

"Let alone mix it, safe to say, this batch has been untested. So," he leaned close, his lips just touching her ear as he whispered. "Try not to die."

The last thing she saw was his cyan, gleaming eyes and nightmare smiled. Her own screaming raging silently in her head as her eyes began to close and the darkness began to leak in.