Isabelle drove down to Arkham, breaking all of the speed limits possible in the town. Traffic was quiet and the radio was playing out the local socialite news about Bruce Wayne having his thirtieth birthday party. Her ears listened to that bit, but, she then tuned out as she realised she had bigger things to worry about. Had the Batman been right? Was her husband the man she thought he was?

Once she pulled into the car park, she took up two spots, noting her husband's car in the parking lot. She abandoned her car, switching the engine off and then climbing from the silver machine, her hands running through her blonde hair as she sparingly dealt with the elastic bobble on her wrist, moving it through her locks and pulling them from her face.

"I'm here to see Jonathan Crane," she said as soon as she reached the main entrance to the Asylum. Just looking up at it gave her the chills. She had been so focused on the goings on, she barely noted the multiple police cars which were pulled up alongside the building, cordoning the area off.

The officer stood before the entrance looked her up and down, wondering who she was and what she wanted with the psychotic doctor they had apprehended.

"And you are?"

"His wife," she snapped at him, the chill in the air getting to her as she looked into the main doors of the Asylum, wondering where Jonathan was. The officer blinked profusely as he looked at her, unable to believe what she had told him.

"You're married to him?" he checked and she gritted her teeth, her annoyance showing through as she nodded in agreement. "Unlucky."

"What are you talking about?" Isabelle snapped. "Where is he?"

"Office Roberts!" a man suddenly yelled as he pushed the door open to the Asylum and held it there. Isabelle took in his appearance, all the way from his long, trench coat to his moustache and his eyes which held concern and annoyance as he looked at the officer. "Mrs Crane is allowed in here. Thank you."

The officer nodded, moving aside for Isabelle to continue her way into the Asylum.

"Mrs Crane, I'm Detective Gordon," he greeted and offered her his hand. She took it, showing him the same politeness which he had shown her as she looked around the hallway to Arkham. A large reception desk stood at one end, but, everything was cream. The place smelled clinical and every noise echoed through the tiled floor. It gave Isabelle the chills just looking around.

"Where's Jonathan?" she asked him, her voice small as he looked at her, his eyes sizing her up and wondering if she knew anything. But, from the look of naivety and hope, it was safe to say that she knew nothing about her husband.

"Your husband has been restrained," he told her and she nodded once. He saw she wanted to cry. He saw how she was beginning to shake in her left hand as her right one held it, trying to stop the movements. The woman had come out so quickly that she had forgotten her jacket. She stood before him in simple flats, her tight fitting jeans and a sheer blouse.

"Why?" she wondered and he drew in a deep breath before messing around with his glasses.

"He's been found making some form of toxin underneath the Asylum. He's been helping to distribute it into the main water supply and it's been getting into Gotham." He informed her and Isabelle shook her head. Gordon reached over, his hand resting on her arm as she failed to believe anything which he was saying to her. Her Jonathan would never have done anything like that.

"The Batman apprehended him and sprayed him with his own toxin. Ever since then he's been in some kind of...well...state...muttering about a Scarecrow," Gordon informed her and she finally noted what he was holding in his hand. Her eyes grew large as she looked at the brown burlap mask which he was holding and she shivered involuntary.

"He was wearing this. It's a mask which helps him against his own toxin. It stops him from being injected but it scares whoever is looking at him," Gordon explained and Isabelle moved her eyes away from it. Her father...he'd muttered...no...

"I need to see him," Isabelle demanded, sounding braver than she felt as Gordon looked at her, wondering if that was a good idea as she nodded forcefully in his direction.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked and she nodded.

"I need to know," she simply whispered and Gordon sighed, but shrugged. He placed his hand onto her back, leading her down the corridors until they came to a room where two guards were stood. Gordon nodded at both of them as they opened the steel door, the noise moving through Isabelle's body as she feared the sight which she was about to see.

But, she heard him first, his soft murmurs saying the same thing over and over again, the word turning like a knife in Isabelle's stomach. She stepped into the room as Gordon stood in the corner, looking on the scene as a noise escaped Isabelle's lips. She wasn't sure if she had made that noise but she knew it was her when she placed her hand over her mouth and felt her eyes water.

Her Jonathan was sat there...restrained to a chair...wearing a straight jacket like his patients. His eyes darted across the room as he heard the noise. His mind was still working. He still knew what he was seeing. It was just taking over him.

Gone was his smart suit which she loved him in, the black tie and the sweater vest. His glasses had been removed and his hair was messier than normal. He looked nothing like the man she had fallen in love with.

"Jonathan," she managed to whisper his name and his eyes found hers. And then he smirked. Isabelle didn't know whether to run or break down on the spot. He was smirking at her.

"My Isabelle," he drawled, still looking at her as she remained stood up. "How wonderful of you to join us on this occasion."

"It's not true...Jonathan..." she pleaded with him and he looked at her, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead as she remained watching him. "You didn't do this."

"You see," Jonathan drawled, "that's what I love about you, Isabelle. You're so naive. You're willing to believe anything which I tell you. He doesn't like that about you, do you? No...he thinks you're too weak for me...but...he likes keeping you around."

"What are you talking about?" Isabelle wondered, her voice a soft whisper as Jonathan chuckled. "Jonathan, you're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, honey," he said, not sounding sorry in the least. "I don't mean to scare you. I never wanted to scare you. You're my wife."

"What's Scarecrow?" Gordon suddenly asked and Jonathan's eyes darted to him before looking back at his wife. "We need to know, Crane."

"Me," Jonathan simply spoke. "It's me."

Gordon nodded once at that. He needed to know the answer. Isabelle folded her arms around herself, trying to keep herself warm as Jonathan noted her gesture. She didn't want to ask him. She didn't know if she could ask him.

"My father," she simply spoke and Jonathan looked at her, the smirk which he had was removed and replaced with his usual thin lips of no emotion. Isabelle continued to look at him, her eyes going wide as he did nothing.

"Jonathan," she whispered his name, moving closer to him and bending down, her hand resting on his cheek as he closed his eyes, his lips parting at the contact which she had given him. He looked at her, wanting to do nothing more than move his own hand and place it onto her cheek, run it all along her neck. Even now, she still didn't believe he could have done this. Even now, she still thought the best of him.

"You didn't...Jonathan...tell me...tell me you didn't..."

"He was ruining you, Isabelle," Jonathan declared and the contact which he had craved was removed. She stood tall again, backing away from the man in the chair as if he could hurt her and she shook her head, turning around, unable to look at him. "He would never have let us be together...Isabelle...I saw how he manipulated you...made you upset...he couldn't have you...I had to have you..."

"He was my father!" Isabelle roared, turning back to look at Jonathan as Gordon remained silent, his hand holding onto his chin as he watched Isabelle begin to cry. And then he looked back at Crane. The sadistic maniac whom he had been interviewing had seemed to have disappeared from his face. No, this looked like a man. A pained one, but a man, nonetheless.

"You killed him...you murdered my own father...how could you?"

"Quite easily," Jonathan deadpanned with her and she glared at him, her eyes beginning to feel sore as he tried to shift around in his chair, becoming numb. "I had to, Isabelle. He kept telling me that I needed to. He said it was the only way."

"I don't...you're not well, Jonathan," Isabelle replied and then thought back to that day when she had seen him in the bathroom. "That day...the first night I stayed over...Jonathan...you were talking..."

It took a moment for Jonathan to remember what she was talking about. The first night she had stayed with him. The first night she had been to his apartment and worn his shirt. The first night he had allowed anyone else to sleep in his bed. The first night he had held her to him, realising he was content. And then he had struck. The voice in his head.

"Didn't I always tell you that talking to yourself was the first sign of madness?" Jonathan checked with her, unable to resist the smirk which was forming on his face.

"You're sick," Isabelle informed him and he managed to slightly shrug at her. "The man I married wouldn't do this."

"You got two for the price of one, sweetie," Jonathan said quickly back to her as Gordon checked his watch. He didn't have much more time. "And I intend to honour our vows until the end of time."

"And as you so told me," Isabelle whispered, "divorce was created to ignore that rule."

Jonathan glared at her and he shook his head. She was trying to be strong, but, he could see past that. He could see that she wanted to run out and cry. He could see how she wanted to do nothing other than be held by him. She wanted to forget about this day.

"I'm not sure you'll be getting out of here. Even at the end of time," Gordon informed Crane, fidgeting in the corner as he knew he needed to get out of the Asylum. He needed to be in the Narrows, trying to stop what Crane had started.

"I won't let you leave me, Isabelle," Jonathan assured her.

"You murdered my father, Jonathan!" she yelled at him, feeling adrenaline coursing through her veins as she began to shake, unable to think of what he had done. "And now you've gone...and injected your toxin...into the main water supply..."

"It's too late," he assured her. "It's all in the past."

"We need to go," Gordon said, whispering to Isabelle as she looked at her husband and he nodded in agreement, twitching as he did so.

"I'll be back, Isabelle," he promised her. "You still love me."

"I do," she whispered after a moment of silence, "but did you ever love me?"

Gordon placed his hand onto her shoulder, firmly but gently steering her to the doorway where the officers stood. And even then, even when she was being led out, he said nothing. He didn't tell her that he loved her. He never told her. She didn't know if she wanted to hear it. She didn't know if it would make a difference to her now. But...deep down...she wanted the man she loved to admit that he loved her...but it had all been a sham.

...

Jonathan knew his wife would never have made it off the Narrows. He knew that the bridges were being raised and everyone was trapped. He also knew he was being unstrapped from his chair, the feeling of freedom moving through his bones as his mask was thrown back at him.

The only thing left to do was find his precious Isabelle.

...

A/N: There we go. It is all out in the open. The next chapter should be interesting; it will take place in the Narrows where chaos is being released. And then there will be more after that! So, thank you to reverie-scriptor, Alexandra Valerious, mahxie, Eva Sirico, Bluebell, TheOneWithTooManyInterests, BaDWolF89 and Undertaker's Hattress for reviewing the last chapter!
Next one out tonight!