Disclaimer: I do not own anything Batman-related.
Enjoy!
XXX
"Where are we?" asks Cassidy upon their arrival to Arkham. "I mean, I know we're at the hospital… is this where you conduct your research?"
"Precisely," answers Crane. "Stay quiet, wouldn't want to hospital guards to notice us…"
"Are you not supposed to be here?"
"My operation is not, strictly speaking, legal," Crane explains. He leads Cassidy to the back entrance of Arkham, glances around briefly, and then takes out a thick metal key and unlocks the door. He holds open the door for her, "Ladies first."
Cassidy blushes, despite the suspiciousness of the whole situation. "This is a bit secretive, don't you think?"
"I suppose," Crane agrees, directing her down the dark corridor. They pass various cells that have clearly been unused for years. The stench of chemicals reeks as they grow closer to their destination. "But you understand, don't you?" He stops momentarily and grasps Cassidy across the waist, pulling her close to him. "Don't you?" he repeats suggestively.
Cassidy feels his breath against her neck, and can't help but shiver. "Yes, of course," she answers instantly.
Crane smiles. This is almost too easy.
"All right then," says Crane, releasing her. Their final stop is atop a large metal balcony. Below them are masked workers, putting together combinations of several different chemicals. The stench is stronger than ever. Cassidy is tempted to cover her nose, but she hesitates, worried that Crane would find that offensive.
"This is where we make the medicine," Crane announces. He sounds very pleased with himself, but Cassidy feels a bit uncomfortable. She has to admit, this is quite a suspicious place to create medicine for the treatment of anxiety disorders.
"It's kind of dirty down here, don't you think?" says Cassidy anxiously. When she sees the slightly affronted look on Crane's face, she adds hastily, "Not that I don't approve of what you're trying to do. Exposure therapy for PTSD, anxiety disorders, and phobias, right?""
Crane nods. "That is what I'm trying to do."
"What exactly does the drug… do?"
"It allows the patient to be exposed to their fears and phobias in a controlled environment. Once the patient has conquered their fear in a safe way, they can overcome it."
Why don't you let her experience it for herself, Johnny?
It's not the right time. Not yet.
I'm getting antsy.
Cassidy nods in response to Crane's explanation. She seems somewhat more convinced. "And this drug is safe, right?"
Crane smiles. "Absolutely."
XXX
"Jason, he's perfect," exclaims Cassidy the following morning. She's on the phone with her elder brother, Jason, who coincidentally, is a criminal psychologist – similar to Crane, minus the medical degree.
"Not to burst your bubble, Cass, but weren't the last three guys 'perfect', too?" replies her older brother cautious. He's all too familiar with her sensitive disease –after all, he lived her for years—so he's careful not to offend her.
"Thanks, Jason," says Cassidy sorely. She's been twirling around her living room for the last ten minutes like an overjoyed little girl, she doesn't need his negativity.
"I'm just being protective of my little sis," teases Jason. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"I won't. He's great. A little eccentric in some ways… but great."
"What's his name again?" Jason inquires.
"Jonathan."
"Jonathan who?"
"Crane."
There's a long pause on the other line.
"Dr. Crane?" asks Jason slowly.
"Yeah, he's a psychiatrist. Why?" asks Cassidy, suspicious of the sudden hesitance in her brothers' voice.
"It's nothing."
"Jason."
Her brother sighs. "It's just, he works at Arkham, right? Well I did too, a couple years ago, d'you remember that? I worked with him, although he had a position above me… But anyway, I dunno, he just struck me as… odd. Cold, really."
"Someone's a bit judgmental," snaps Cassidy, a sudden defensive edge to her voice. Who does Jason think he is? He just doesn't want her to be happy, that must be it. Or he's jealous. Wait, that's clearly it, he's jealous. Doesn't want someone stealing his widdle sister away from him. Pathetic for a man in his twenties. "You're just jealous."
"No, Cass—"
"I don't want to hear it, Jason! God, you're such a fucking jerk sometimes!" she fires up. She realizes this is a part of her illness—the sudden incredibly defensive position, the name calling—but she can't seem to stop herself. "I hate you! You know that?"
"Cassidy," says Jason calmly, "please don't be so overdramatic. I'm not saying he's a bad gu—"
"OVERDRAMATIC?!" roars Cassidy. She absolutely loathes that word—that and "manipulative". "I'm not being fucking overdramatic, you asshole! Why do you have to constantly invalidate me? That's how Jonathan and I started spending more time together, you know. You made me fucking cut myself because you invalidated me. You made me. And I went to his house because I was having a meltdown and—"
"Cassidy, I'm hanging up now," says Jason simply.
"FUCK you," shouts Cassidy. She slams the phone on top of the receiver, nearly damaging it in the process, and proceeds to pace across the room, fuming.
Her brother can be so fucking stupid sometimes.
XXX
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