On Livejournal, I read this wonderful story called "The Boundaries of Friendship" by kojonoyuri, a Bruce Wayne/Jonathan Crane story that tells how much deeper the friendship/relationship between Batman and the Scarecrow runs that much deeper. A year after the events of TDK, Bruce arrives at Arkham because of Jonathan who had been his short-lived friend in college at Princeton, and they shared the same psychology professor who "harbored an unhealthy obsession with Jonathan". It was really dramatic once Bruce was expelled from Princeton for trying to protect his friend from the professor's advances, so it should be obvious what the creepy old man got once his obstacle was out of the way. It was that entire experience and the friendship between the Bat and the Crow that inspired me for Edward and Jonathan here - and the friendship of these two was also present in "The Boundaries of Friendship" as well as so many other fics. That story also is a wonderful attempt to try to get Jonathan to put the demons of his past behind him and move on, but we all know it won't end well - and the results are catastrophic when he learns Bruce's dual identity.

Chapter Three

Roommates

She sat behind her desk while Jonathan was brought in by Carl, one of her favorite orderlies. Favoritism in public was frowned upon and criticized, so she could not let anyone know verbally or make it blaringly obvious to anyone else in Arkham other than her patients - those she trusted, at least. Jonathan Crane knew this as well as he knew her.

This office had once been his; now it was hers. Like all of Arkham, it was sleek white, and modernized. Before his rule, the place had been decrepit in certain areas and falling apart; Iris had a brilliant vision of interior design but could not become a designer as it would only do so much for her, as modeling would never be hers. The walls were just as white as everything else, but the floor and furniture contrasted nicely while giving the room a light and airy feel and a cool modern touch. The floor was rustic oak with a highly glossy shine - clear vinyl as surface protection - and set with a rug under the desk and the black leather chair before it for patients and visitors. The six-foot tall, three-feet wide bookshelf with glass doors to protect the contents inside provided eight shelves and contained almost every volume of psychology and phobias that Jonathan had gotten his hands on - and saved for her so that the police or the Batman would not get a hold of - and was as black as the frames hanging behind the desk, with the diplomas and certificates of achievement, as well as the filing cabinet and the desk and chair.

The desk and chair themselves were also black as the patient-visitor one - the desk being L-shaped and marble instead of wood for more style, the drawer storage intact, and the chair adjustable leather - and sporting the brand new LG computer and flatscreen fixated on the wall just above the desk to its right - facing Iris when she sat down in the comfortable leather chair, of course. She dropped her folder - Jonathan's file - on the surface of the shiny black marble and just gazed at it blankly until she saw him come in. Standing she gave a little smile and ordered Carl to be outside.

"If you're expecting an apology again for the ungodly call..." Jonathan quirked even though he didn't need to bring this up, but she held up her hand.

"The only one I handle waking me up in the wee hours is you." She was no longer the girl he first met when he was still a professor. She shrugged off her blazer and draped it over her chair before walking around. As she knelt before him since they were alone, he smelled her perfume, making his stomach twist excitedly. The effect from ten years ago when she became his student on his first day of teaching never failed. "So, what can we do to stop these bad dreams...?"

He never told her what he was dreaming about, forcing him to nibble on his lip nervously. "I wish I knew, for I was once in your position. I would recommend a dream suppressant."

Iris reeled back slightly. He forced himself to look down and found himself staring at the necklace he gave her for her fifteenth birthday. "If you don't dream, your brain shuts off altogether," she reminded him.

"That's what Ed said."

She laughed. "He should be your doctor instead of me, then."

Jonathan scoffed. "He's always in my business, unlike yourself. You back off when you know it."

Iris stood back up and moved back to sit on the edge of her desk, still eyeing him. He continued to look at her and how she no longer dressed scandalously as she had when she was a teenager. "Have I ever told you how you are beautiful?" he told her slyly, not purposefully changing the topic but only swaying her because he wanted to. She knew him well for that.

"You always say so, Professor."

He lowered his face, the smile tight as he flushed. His feelings for her had grown over the years, trying to keep them under control as this was not a fairytale where he could just take her away with him. Everyone would keep them apart because he was legally a madman and she his doctor and heir. He was always turned away, but Iris Mara DeLaine...she never turned him away.

"I know that look on your face. We've had this discussion before: you don't belong in here."

Jonathan leaned back against the cool, slick leather. "But I might as well be going to Blackgate for the rest of my life, child."

"Oh, calling me the pet name again." She used her lifting her left hand to stare at her oval-shaped black nails as means of show, but even that did not change anything.

"It's my affectionate pet name for you," he returned coyly. "As you still call me professor."

The same hand turned away from her face so her palm was in his line of vision. "Jonathan, we're talking about your dream right now, which is a new step in this 'insanity' caused by your own fear toxin. It not only brought you in here, not only added to all of your difficulties shared between you and I but something else...something that is from your past you never told me."

~o~

Dreams stemmed from deep within the subconscious of the human mind, not always coming up at random, born from the depths of a person's experiences and the memory of that experience, so Iris knew that there had to be something Jonathan never told her over the years. She hated to treat him like this, but she had to get to the bottom of this. He helped her, so she owed him. Not as his doctor, but as a friend.

Or was it really "friends" between them?

"Iris, speaking your mind won't always help. In my case...this particular dream which comes now and then is more than an invasion of privacy."

She was tempted to run over and kiss him, try to get him to talk like that, but she wasn't a wicked person. She respected everyone's business, including Jonathan's, but in his case, how could she help him if he couldn't talk to her? He taught her that a long time ago, but now times changed. He wasn't a doctor anymore, but he was still a master in the field as she was. No matter her age, she was on the same level as he. "Jonathan, remember you told me -"

He cut her off sharply. "I don't need to say so, Iris, and believe me when I want to, but the details are humiliating enough. I have suffered enough humiliation to last a lifetime." His arms folded across his chest, his chin lifted, but she wasn't moved.

"Jonathan, that doesn't work on me, and you know it. I know you better than anyone else; I don't want you in here in Arkham any longer..."

"We've gone on with this for the last couple of years!" he said impatiently, unfolding his arms and throwing them into the air. "No one understands me enough to not keep me from Blackgate unlike yourself, and Eddie."

"And Joan," she added. Joan she trusted more because of her history with Edward Nygma. They were high school sweethearts before going off to separate colleges and reconnecting in circumstances at Arkham of all times. And Joan was even more hopeful, loving, and still professional than any of the others. "Jonathan, I think we should talk more about your dream if you could give me a good reason to prescribe a suppressant..."

"Fine!" he snapped. "It's always the same: I wake up naked and tied to a chair, eyes blinded and myself gagged, and there is a man I never see who torments me because I 'left' him after everything he gave me, throwing it all away for what I am now. In the end, he..." His eyes closed, inhaling through his nose as his jaw tightened closed. Iris felt her blood run cold as she regretted pressuring him into this, but now she understood.

"What did he do?" She didn't want him to tell her, but instinct overtook her.

"Does the word 'defile' mean anything to you?"

Her stomach lurched; she gripped both sides of her desk to keep from falling in front of her, but her head bowed forward so Jonathan could not look into her eyes. Jonathan had been having dreams of being sexually violated by an unseen abductor...had he been in another life?

It made her rage internally that her beloved former professor was raped sometime before he became her teacher, now that she thought of it. He was ten years her senior; he'd been twenty-three when he became so, and she always wondered how he'd gotten his position sooner than the average Ph.D. student. Iris gasped to herself as she raised her head to meet his eyes, but before she could question him, the door was knocked on. "Come in!" she shouted, and Carl poked his head in.

"Pardon me, Doctor, but Jonathan needs to go back to his cell."

"Okay." She looked at Jonathan and saw how his angelic face raced with conflicting swimming emotions. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him. "I won't fail you." She made the promise a long time ago and was still firm about it. She felt strongly for him and hated him being beneath her, treated as he was, so she would do everything in her power to get him out of Arkham Asylum. But it was the Batman's fault Jonathan lost everything after an entire life no different than her own.

That was why she was helping him now, not abandoning him like his other doctors who came and went. If she could just find means to uncover a good reason to release him...

Iris found herself behind her desk again, staring at his closed file but not opening it. Medication did not cure one hundred percent; it could only do so much. Once she reached her goal, she would not let Jonathan move into a halfway house which was common for releases from jail or rehab. She wanted him to move into DeLaine Manor with her. Alice and Jervis were already living there, but you know what they said: "The more, the merrier". Her heart began to race as she began to fantasize about Jonathan's release...before the thoughts about his nightmares returned.

Who raped him?

The door was knocked on. Her newest patient was here, none other than - "I'd ask how you are today, Eddie, but I think we know the answer," she said with a grin to the dark-haired, similarly bespectacled man who gave her a lopsided grin.

"Yes, we do," he answered simply.

There had to be a reason for simply answering her, and so short. "Was anything interrupted?" Iris asked curiously.

"You mean what Joan and I were doing in her office not long before you and me now?"

Now that was an image she didn't want to know. "Eddie, honestly, you and your high school first love...I did not need to have the images. Joan must wonder why she's doing it when she has conflicting emotions about right or wrong." It didn't surprise her that the high school sweethearts still had feelings for each other despite the fact Edward, like his best friend from college, was a legally labeled lunatic himself.

"I was the ladies' man long before she came along in sophomore year. You know, getting the ball rolling before I scored the winner," he added with a wink. "Joan was my rock for two more years to pass...before separation." His face fell then, and his eyes twinkled with a sadness that touched her heart. "Remember that story I told you..."

"That she wasn't like the other whores who only were interested in foreplay and not your riddles. You wanted someone who shared your interests and at the same time didn't have any with you, someone who wouldn't make you be something you don't want to be. You never forget your first." She nodded, drumming her fingers absently. "Jon was also your first best friend as you were his first." It wasn't proper to discuss patient confidentiality, but this wasn't just doctor-patient privacy; this was a discussion of help between friends. Life had all of the mysteries about the depths of the boundaries placed.

"Yeah, we met at the start of freshman year. We were roommates and had the same professor of psychology together, even pathology and chemistry. There was never a day we didn't see each other."

~o~

14 years ago…

Edward took a look around the dorm room he arrived in, happy it was bigger than he thought, and happy there were two beds separate instead of one bunk; it was too frat boyish if you asked him. All he wanted was a little semblance of a bachelor pad that didn't involve himself clearing after his drunk father ever since his mother left when he was nine, not that he would be slacking off all the time.

He knew he was getting a roommate, but the man hadn't arrived yet, so in the meantime, he wanted to make himself at home, namely his side of the room. Set it up with his prized video games and puzzles, all his books, and everything. After that, he could probably make himself at home in the little kitchen there was or just order pizza, nevermind it was only day one, but something was always better than nothing.

That would also be one of the things he would miss doing with Joan, now that they were both moving on with their lives which was what everyone did after high school. Despite the fact they would keep in touch. She had gone to Harvard while he applied for Gotham State; everyone had a true calling, she said, but never forget each other. He wasn't sure if this was true love, since Joan was a realist, but she was his first love and would be his last since his heart would never let in another one. He would gladly wait forever for her again if he had to. She'd promised to come back to Gotham after her schooling was done. "Duty calls first, then love," he'd affirmed, which she'd nodded to and kissed him one last time before holding the necklace he gave her on their second date before his eyes, kissing it with him.

The door was knocked on, and he assumed his roommate had arrived. "Door's open!" he yelled before deciding to have some fun as it opened. "Riddle me this, who's the new face coming into the nest?"

"The name is Jonathan, and I'm sharing this nest," the other young man said sarcastically as he carried his only suitcase in with him, "with you, whatever your name is."

Like Edward, the young man had dark hair combed down the middle and slightly wavy, glasses over the eyes but narrower than his own, pale-skinned, though he was dressed in a rust-colored plaid shirt and faded jeans unlike Edward's clean white shirt and dark denims. His face was steely, his eyes the brightest shade of blue ever seen and filled with negative emotions that seemed to freeze you on the spot. But Edward wasn't scared of him - he didn't think so. He couldn't figure out this guy, but he liked a challenge. "Ed. Edward Nygma. I like either one," he said excitedly, extending his hand out. "Pleasure to meet you, Jonathan - or do you like Jon?"

The blue-eyed man sniffed at his hand held out. "I prefer Jonathan, thank you very much, Edward. Or do you have a...riddle for me, like before?" he sneered, making Edward draw his hand back.

"Unless you have one to give me since I had a turn."

"Riddles are not my forte."

Somehow, he liked this one even though he shot down Edward's riddles, but nothing ever stopped him. The only one he had real fights with was his father whom he would never see again. "That's fine with me. I guess you won't be interested in talking to me, then." That was what he could already get out of his rude housemate; Jonathan was cold and formal. It was no wonder he must not have any friends. "Because all you care about is whatever your course for your life is," Edward stated as he sat down on the foot of his bed, watching Jonathan begin to unpack and seeing only clothes and books on psychology, telling him the obvious study course.

Jonathan's eyes flashed like the sun through glaciers, flaring and maddening. "Why do you care about my nonexistent social life?" he spat. "We just met and are already into this discussion which I never intended to begin. You don't have any either, do you?"

The question made Edward angry, but he held himself together. "Now, look, that has nothing to do with -"

"Do with what? The fact I see video games and puzzle books, every topic everywhere so soon that it is enough that you are looked down upon? Precisely makes two of us, if you ask me. What are you here for, anyway, Mr. Nygma?" He towered over Edward, his lip curling.

"Forensics," he answered calmly. "Interested in the mysteries of a body after death, the usual. What about you?"

"Psychology, with the addition of phobias and psychopharmacology." Jonathan seemed to calm down now, now that he saw Edward wasn't as idiotic as he looked. They seemed to have more in common than they thought. He took a step back.

"Psychopharmacology...the study of the effect of drugs on the human mind," Edward mused as he looked up at the other bespectacled man with a slight smile. "See, we both like mysteries. But what about...phobias?" he asked curiously. He had the slightest idea that it had to do with the mentioned drugs on the human brain...

"I've always been fascinated with fear since I was a child," Jonathan answered, turning back to finish unpacking. "Simple as that."

Edward knew there was more than that, but he could tell Jonathan hated being pressed. But that was enough. All he knew right now was that he had someone to finally talk to despite the cold shell Jonathan Crane gave.

What if, on the inside, he was as warm and inviting as Edward liked to believe?

~o~

Today

Every night, Iris returned home by six, feeling better than she had in a long time. She guided her shiny black SUV with its powered-up engine and strong tires with silver wheels through the driveway and into the garage separate from the manor and its flawless perfection. The garage was built on its own and hidden within a forest only some yards from the home - its condition was as perfect as any suburban home, unlike any other garage in general. Iris was a perfectionist if not overt as Maria had been. She also loved taking walks back to the manor, choosing to remove her heels to savor the cool, moist feel of the grass beneath her bare feet as she beheld the sight of her home.

DeLaine Manor was a twentieth-century mansion with gardens influenced by France but not compared to Marie Antoinette's Versailles, which was sometimes used to describe the garden - which was located behind the manor, much to the disappointment of guests, but once they beheld the sight of the hidden back, it was all worth it. There lived a terrace north of the manor from which steps descended to a pool. Across the water, there was a parterre and a colonnade leading on to a sunken garden with rococo stairways to another, more isolated garden, which honored Artemis herself, the goddess of the moon and hunt whom Jonathan even compared her to.

She opened the door and yelled out that she was home, and could smell Alice's cooking from somewhere off to her right. The chandelier above the foyer was reminiscent of the grand chandeliers which decorated the finest chateaux and palaces across Europe for class and elegance, lit up warmly, and sparkled a special atmosphere throughout the interior, standing out amid the Middle Eastern themes. Iris headed in the direction she followed the scent until she entered the kitchen. The air was slightly smoky so that the ivory ceiling of timeless Gothic carvings was turning faint silver, and the rustic wood cupboard doors and the drawers and every wooden kitchen detail were on the verge of being fogged over so that they were barely seen again. Alice was on the verge of accidentally burning the house down.

"Hey, are you trying to burn the house down?!" Iris shrieked while trying to keep her laughter in check as she dashed over to help her sister carry the steaming pan over to the sink. While the blonde turned on the water to cool off the burning foil, Iris turned off the oven and rushed to open every window to let out the smoke as the fire alarm blared for a bit before silencing. It was safe to now breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'm still trying to get the hang of this." Alice wiped her hands on her floral-printed apron and shook her head in disdain, her blonde curls wisping about her face. "My first time making lasagna on my own. I'm sorry, Iris, after spending years of takeout and someone else cooking for me."

Iris laughed again and slipped off her blazer as it was getting warm in the room. She slung it over her arm. "You were close to burning the house down for the third time, and this time involves lasagna of all things."

"If only you had the chef come in tonight to spare me!" her blonde half-sister argued, even though she was laughing. "But I swear I'm getting better."

"And I see you are," Iris promised as she smelled the red tomato sauce and meat love despite the blackening parts of the cheese and surface. "Jervis would love this when he comes home."

"He's working late again." Alice watched as the black-haired woman hung her blazer on the coat rack festooned specially in the kitchen. "So, how was Jonathan today? Those...bad dreams of his?" she asked cautiously.

"I've come to the...conclusion he never told me one important factor that led to how he got his Ph.D. at the age he did, but I can't give anything explicit away for his sake," Iris answered honestly as she walked over to one of the cupboards to get the plates out. "And I have to find out the facts, who the man in his dream was. This might be the key to helping him move on from the past as I have."

Alice looked piqued with wide-eyed innocent interest; shocked, too, but saying nothing as she was not a psychiatrist. "And what will happen if he is legally documented to be released from Arkham?"

Iris gave her the biggest of smiles she could ever manage, no matter any doubts. "Then he comes home with me."

~o~

14 years ago...

Jonathan was not sure why this apparent game-crazy man was sharing his dorm with him, nor was he sure WHY he was even talking to him. Was he speaking to him for the sake of it, or setting him up for trouble later as soon as his guard lowered? If that was the case, he wished they never spoke at all. He hadn't had anyone to talk to for a long time, and he didn't need anyone now.

But Edward Nygma was talking to him. Talking about his upcoming courses as well as his interest in forensics, and Jonathan Crane found himself interested. As it seemed, Nygma's love of questions and mystery was its own beg of a case study. He seemed as isolated as Jonathan himself was, loving what he was doing...and somehow abused for it. By whom? His father? Mother? Or grandmother, as Jonathan had been?

"Well, Jonathan, since we've started warming up, is it too early for a pizza to celebrate the fact we are sharing a room together? I can turn on one of my video games..."

"I don't do video games," Jonathan snapped, "and I don't eat pizza."

Nygma gaped then; he saw this from the corner of his eye. "What do you eat then?"

"Anything but takeout." It was a lie; he only refused so the other man would get off his back. In fact, his body was skinny enough that he would never keep himself in shape anyway. And Edward saw this.

"You're not a good liar, Jon."

He whirled around and was about to tell him he didn't want to be called by that short name when Nygma held up both hands, smiling ear to ear. "Hey, hey, don't talk back. I just want to get better acquainted, roommate."

They might be roommates, but Jonathan never wanted to be friends with him...or didn't he? He could not remember having a real friend, and a part of his mind was pricking this was a once in a lifetime for him. Edward was willing to engage in conversation and order a pizza for them, so why not? Jonathan sighed in exasperation. "Alright, fine then."

Edward grinned. "I think we're going to enjoy being roommates, Jon."

Edward and Jonathan being roommates in college made sense enough for their budding odd friendship and strong bond for later on in life. Jonathan prefers isolation more, but Edward is more than willing to get him out of his comfort zone.

In "Descent into Darkness", Alice had a challenge of cooking herself I HAD to bring it into here. :D And the little banter between her and Iris was hilarious and memorable.

DeLaine Manor is also based on this real life manor called Nemours Mansion and Gardens. As described, it was inspired by France and Marie Antoinette, with influences from Greece and Rome in word-for-word detail in my research, so if anyone wants to also look that up, you won't be disappointed with the imagery. :D