Hey, guys, guess who's back? I had a great vacation and plenty of time to think about what's going to happen next in my story. Thanks to all you who commented to me, and continue to review. Just so you know, this work is just for you guys, not for some review count, so even if you do or don't, you'll still have fresh chapters from yours truly. I hope you enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for more.

Becky slowly opened her eyes as the bright sunlight filtered in through the cracks in the barricade, irritating her eyes with its bright glare. She silently yawned, trying to stretch her arms, only to find them pinned at her sides.

This instantly awakened her, her eyes slowly trailing to see a pair of arms wrapped around her stomach. She instantly stiffened in fear, causing the unknown cuddler to shuffle a bit closer to her, his head nestling into the crook of her neck, peacefully snoring. She slowly turned her head to see Jonathan's face resting on her shoulder, oblivious to everything around him as he slept soundly for the first time in years, his breath ruffling her curly, red hair.

Much of the reason why the Scarecrow always seemed to stay awake was because he was plagued by awful nightmares of his childhood, constantly tortured at the hands of his Granny and the bullies. These nightmares would often make him flail and scream, instantly waking Becky up and, in turn, helping her to wake him up so he would stop screaming.

So it was very surprising that he was sound asleep, all thanks to her actually sleeping beside him, or at least in the same room as him. She blushed a deep red at that thought, her face almost matching the shade of her maroon hair. She was so surprised by his unconscious physical contact with her that she let out a squeak.

This caused Crane to immediately open his eyes, drowsily muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "teddy bear", before he realized just how close he was to his partner-in-crime.

With a yelp, he launched himself backwards, sending him falling off the bed and onto the hard floor.

"What the heck, Jon?" Becky shouted, as she crawled across the cover to check and see that he didn't break his neck…again. Crane might have an aneurism if he had to stay cooped up in Hush's tiny apartment for another night.

"Funny, you took the words right out of my mouth," he said snarkily, pushing himself off the ground, his neck giving a few pops as he adjusted it. He really hoped he hadn't cracked it again. He didn't want to stay here any longer than he had to. "And I should be asking you why you decided to sleep in the bed with me, of all places?"

"How on earth am I supposed to know that?" She snapped. "Besides, what about you clinging to me like a koala?"

"What? That's ridiculous!" he cried, denying her claims. The Master of Fear didn't cuddle in his sleep. And he certainly didn't cuddle with someone he may or may not have taken a liking to. That was just not rational to him.

"Your head was resting on my shoulder!" she shouted, flinging her arms into the air.

"It was not!"

"It was so! Your breath was ruffling my hair!"

"Was not!"

"Was so!"

"Was not!

"Was so!

"Was not!"

As they were childishly arguing, Hush happened to be admiring his collection of 'faces' that he had put together, adding another one to his collection that he had pulled off his latest victim. He was just about to take one out when he heard the yelling match from across the other side of the room, through the doors he had shut behind him. He growled, annoyed. He ripped a steel pipe out of the wall, hoping to bang it to get their attention.

He banged it several times, but the noise couldn't be heard over the din of their yells. Hush was surprised the police hadn't heard them, with all the noise they were making.

As he came through the door, he found them both in each others faces, with Crane bent slightly down to look into Becky's eyes as Becky was staring up into his. Both were yelling at the top of their lungs.

Hush was taken by complete surprise, and accidentally blurted out, "Oh, for the love of Batman, just kiss and get it over with," he shouted over them.

"Shut up!" they both shouted, turning on him as one, before looking at each other in surprise.

Hush blinked. Wow, I had no idea that this would happen, he thought, stunned. Crane had never allowed himself to get physically close to anyone, and usually preferred people at least 3-4 feet away from him at all times. But here they were, heads practically butting each other as they argued over who was right. He would have been laughing, if he weren't so shocked.

Jonathan finally scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. "That's it! I'm going out!" he shouted, storming out of the room, opening the door to go outside.

"Hey!" she yelled, nearly stumbling before grasping onto the wall for support. "Where are you going?"

"I'm getting a drink!" he replied snappily, slamming the door in her face.

"Yeah, well, I hope you get caught," she added darkly, glaring at the door before giving it a slight kick with her foot.

She turned to find Hush watching her. "What do you want, Hush?" she asked, tiredly. The screaming match with Crane had tuckered her out, and she wasn't ready to deal with the backlash from him.

"I, um, was just going to say that I found a temporary replacement for your cane," he replied, quickly holding out the crude pipe that he had tried to shape into a cane, with limited success, hoping the gift would pacify her rage

It seemed to work as Becky smiled, taking the pipe from his hands as she recovered her balance and pushed away from the wall. "Thanks."

While the pipe wasn't much, it would help her to get back home in one piece without having to lean on Crane for support, which both would find most uncomfortable.

He chuckled. "It's nothing much. Professor Crane seems to trust you. For me, and practically everybody else, that's an impossibility."

"Why do you say that?" Becky questioned, her anger with Crane being drowned by her insatiable curiosity. She had assumed that Crane was distrusting just by nature. She didn't realize he didn't start out that way.

Of course, he didn't, her conscience thought. No human starts out life like that.

Hush sighed, his breath making a slightly huff through the bandages he always had over his face. "Well, Crane didn't exactly have the best life…"

"I know," she said, looking down, her voice barely more than a whisper as she felt herself tearing up. His tale had broken her heart, and even thinking about it was hard, especially since their stories were so much alike. But she pulled herself together, wiping her eyes. "He told me his life's story."

Hush's eyes widened. The Professor never shared his life story with anyone, even his closest friends. To be given such an honor from him was quite unheard of, and quite the amazing surprise, especially since he once considered her his greatest enemy.

But then again, you gotta keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Hush reasoned.

After a few moments of thinking, he finally spoke up again. "Did he really tell you the true version? Or was it just the fragment?"

"He told me everything," Becky responded.

Hush was shocked. "Then he must really trust you, Miss Albright, to share such information with you."

She smiled. "Well, I did promise not to tell," Becky said meekly, unable to meet his eyes. She had been close to breaking her promise sometimes, to blurt it out to either Tetch or Alice, but every time, she found she had the strength of will to keep it hidden. She wouldn't betray Crane, no matter what he did.

"And you've kept it?" Hush asked seriously.

She nodded.

Hush looked impressed. True loyalty was very rare to come by in Gotham, much less inside the Rogue's gallery. And it wasn't a blind loyalty, like Harley Quinn's, where she would selflessly throw herself into danger just on the whim of her lover. She was smart. She knew who he was, what he did, and yet still had the strength to not give into the madness that infected the rest of the rogues like a plague and yet stay by his side.

Such loyalty was not something Hush had ever encountered before, nor had he ever heard of.

"Loyalty's a hard thing to come by in Gotham. I can see why the Professor trusts you with this information." He reached over and tilted her head up to look at him. "If you like, I will tell you how Crane came to be the cynical, non-trusting man you know today."

She slapped his hand away from her face, uncomfortable with his touch. She hated being touched, especially by men. Ever since her father had started beating her, she hated the touch of another male, even a light touch. Her father would sometimes touch her like that, when he was sober, before beating her again a few minutes later when he was drunk.

Crane's, however, was different. It was nervous, as if he thought a single touch would break her. It was rare when he would, but the few times he did, such as when he guided her hand during the sparring practice they sometimes had, it left a comfortable, warm feeling.

But Crane she knew. Hush, she didn't. "Very well. I'll hear you out. Just don't touch me again!"

He nodded, much to her relief. "Alright, I'll tell you what I know. I don't know the entire story, just bits and pieces, but I'll share what I know."

Becky settled herself into her chair, awaiting his tale.

Hush took a deep breath, before starting his tale. "Well, it all started 7 years ago. Apparently, from what parts the Professor told me, he must have been in a pretty desperate situation at that point. So he struck up a deal with Cobblepot. If Cobblepot let Crane work in his lab and delivered the proper chemicals, then he would give the Penguin the fear toxin he made. The Penguin agreed. And it was there that he met…Linda Friitawa."

The lights flickered at her name, causing Becky to look up in shock. "Just who is this Linda Friitawa?" she asked, scared at the name. She didn't like the sound of it at all. It reeked of sadism and hate, and the lights turning off at the name couldn't just be a coincidence. She felt that, whomever she was, that she hadn't been kind or good to Crane at all.

Even Hush, a cold-hearted killer, shuddered. "I don't really know. But from what the Professor told me, she's not to be trusted. Ever. She's a lot like Poison Ivy. She tricks people with her kindness, then when she has no more use for them, she discards them like trash."

Becky winced. She didn't have to be a psychic or a psychologist to know how this had turned out for Crane.

"When he stumbled into my hideout, he was barely alive. I nursed him back to health, and then he went on his way."

"What about your payment?" she asked. Most villains, she realized, held a favors system among their own. If someone did something for them, then they owed a debt for the other to do something for them.

But this only applied to the ringleaders, not the henchmen themselves, so as to not cause a seizure of power from the henchmen should the ringleader refuse the payment system. While this didn't work among people like the Joker, it did work on many of the saner rogues, including Crane, so it was not uncommon to expect something in return from them if you saved their life.

Hush was just about to reply, before a familiar voice spoke up for him. "I didn't need to pay him because I had already given him something in return."

They both turned around when they heard Crane's voice.

He had trudged into the room from the door, his breath smelling of some cheap whisky, although it was just a slight buzz.

Becky hobbled over to him. "You better?"

Jonathan huffed. "Yes, as much as I can be." He turned to Hush. "Now, about those disguises?"

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Crane grumbled, trying to adjust the blonde wig on his head. The green contacts itched his eyes, and it was all he could do not to rub them.

They had made it out of the apartment and onto the streets of Gotham. So far, they were making good progress on their way back to their hideout. The people didn't seem to notice them, and pushed past them as they went. But Crane still felt paranoid about them. He could just feel their beady, little eyes watching him, dissecting him with their gazes.

"Relax, will you? No one even notices you," Becky whispered. She was dressed in her normal clothes she had brought in her bag. Scarecrow, however, had no spare clothes, so he was dressed in a loose-fitting, short-sleeved t-shirt and khaki pants.

"Yes, they are. And they're probably laughing," he growled, folding his arms over himself, shivering. It was still winter in Gotham, and it was certainly not the time for short-sleeved clothing of any sort. But that was the only outfit that would fit on his skinny frame, and he certainly wasn't going to turn down the only clothing he had besides the Scarecrow costume.

But despite this, he still felt naked and exposed without his usually long sleeved jacket and pants. It didn't help that a few of his childhood scars were exposed. Ever since he moved to Gotham from his hometown in Arlem, Georgia, he kept those scars hidden. No one had seen them until now, not even Hush, Hatter or Becky. And now everyone was seeing a least half of them. At least his red freckles didn't give away that he wasn't a true blonde.

"They're not, okay. Let's just get home and—oof!" she said, colliding into someone once again. Man, I've got to start looking forward when I'm walking, she thought, before letting out a gasp as she discovered that she had walked into Bruce Wayne, the billionaire CEO of Wayne Enterprises, himself.

"O-Oh! M-Mr. Wayne, sir. I-I didn't see you there," Becky stammered, struggling to get to her feet. She couldn't believe she had bumped into THE Bruce Wayne. He rarely ever walked along the streets like a normal person, that was almost unheard of, thanks to the great, teaming masses of the paparazzi constantly chasing him down, demanding interviews and quotes.

"It's fine," he stated, helping her up. "I'm just glad you're doing so well. I was starting to worry."

"Heh, no worries," Becky replied, trying to sound chipper while inside she was scared to death. She hadn't counted on having Bruce Wayne bump into her, and she really didn't know what to do. "I'm doing well, Mr. Wayne. Just continuing my studies."

He smiled. "Good." He looked at Crane. "Who's your friend?"

"Uh-um…" Becky stammered, biting her lip. If Bruce Wayne found out that he was asking the Scarecrow if he was Becky's "friend", she would have died right there on the spot.

Crane tensed, awaiting her answer. He was just as nervous as she was. If Bruce Wayne found out he was the Scarecrow, this would immediately drag Becky into questioning by the police. They had continued to keep up the illusion that she was doing fine in school, continuing her studies and attendance. If someone found out, then Becky would be captured and possibly sent to prison or even to Arkham. He knew she wasn't ready for Arkham yet, as without a certain reputation among the rogues, they would rip her to pieces.

"He's a good friend of mine that happens to be attending Gotham University. We met during one of our classes, and have been friends ever since."

Crane looked at her, shocked. She considered him her…friend? His formerly greatest enemy considered him a friend? And a good friend at that. Not a colleague or some person she was an acquaintance with, but a good friend. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what to think. Had their relationship to each other grown that much? He hadn't thought about that. He decided to keep silent as he listened.

"Okay, what's your name, if you don't mind me asking?" Bruce asked, examining him closely. He looked very familiar.

"Irving. James Irving," Crane replied, his voice changing to reflect a southern twang, as if he had just moved to Gotham. His eyes drifted over to Becky. If he was going to get out of here without the police catching wind of his association with her, then he had to trust that Becky wouldn't say anything suspicious.

Thankfully, she didn't disappoint. She even acted like she was relaxed with him around, her arm lightly brushing his.

It seemed Bruce took the bait. "Well, then, it's nice to meet you, James. I'm glad that Becky seems to be doing well. I can trust that you treat her well."

Crane nodded. "Of course. I would never let her get hurt if I can help it," he said, his eyes flashing briefly in anger, although it was so brief that Bruce almost didn't catch it.

Bruce smiled. "Good." He looked at his watch. "Excuse me, but I must be going. Have a nice day, Miss Albright," he said, before walking past them as he went about on his way.

The two walked on, then, once he was far enough away, let out sighs of relief.

"That was too close," Scarecrow muttered, finally starting to let himself breathe again.

"Yeah," Scream replied. "But he didn't recognize you."

"I'm not sure if he did or didn't. I've heard rumors that he knows Batman personally, and Batman has a knack for remembering faces," Crane replied, starting to hurry towards the Amusement Mile. "And I'd rather not find out."

She nodded.

They ran/hobbled for a bit, before Crane stopped her. "When you lied to Wayne, did you really mean that you considered me a friend? Or was it just a ploy to throw Wayne off the scent?"

Becky looked down, then looked back up at him. "Yes, I really meant what I said. I mean, we have certainly come that far in our relationship."

Crane sighed. "Great. And what happens if he figures out that 'James Irving' isn't who he appears to be? Then we'll both be in trouble."

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let's just go home," she said tiredly, her energy drained. All that arguing and stress had taken a toll on her, and she just wanted to take a break.

Crane sighed, before continuing towards the hideout. "Fine. But if Batman breaks into the lair tonight, I'm blaming you."

She laughed. "Touché."

They ran into their hideout, locking the door behind them.