Named after a composition by Adrian von Ziegler ("Prison of the Soul", also for a chapter at the end of another fic, "Allure of Darkness"), the title is a metaphor for what transpires.

It was mentioned early on that Iris' college foe, Mina Rosenberg, was arrested for intoxication - but we all know the truth ;) - although we never learned what exactly happened afterward. It's more twisted than anyone else might have thought.

Chapter Twelve

Imprisoned Soul

7 years ago...

It had been yet another week since she last saw Henri Ducard; he always made it a point to surprise her at any time. "Don't be surprised; learn to accept it as a routine," he'd told her before he vanished into the night. "Next time we meet, I will bring you something that will strengthen your creation."

By her creation, he meant her side of the liquidized hallucinogen Dr. Crane had concocted when he was not much younger than she was now. Ducard had been impressed that she, quote "a mere girl of sixteen", had specialized so soon in chemicals on the mind. She'd gotten into college when she was barely a teenager, which had impressed him, too. Men like him - powerful, connected - were not so easily impressed. Neither was Jonathan Crane.

Ducard had left her a message to meet him not that far away from the train station. It was an apartment complex isolated from the public eye but one of the richer sections. He reserved it temporarily enough to supervise her before he returned to the East. As soon as she arrived, in her blue sweater, black coat, jeans, and boots, she was greeted with a whimpering, shivering sight on the ground, surrounded by figures in black - ninjas.

"These are my men," Ducard told her. "My disciples. When I call on them, they obey. However, I allow them to be free as you are only if they swear devout loyalty to the League of Shadows. And right now, we have your first victim. I believe you know who she is."

The question was no different when Scarecrow first brought her into the lab behind his office, and now she looked down at the same face of the one who betrayed them both to Dr. Long and the board. "I answered no differently than I answered Professor Crane when he introduced me to his world," she answered softly, opening her coat and letting it be taken to hung until she was finished here. "Mina Rosenberg. She was let out of jail for charges of intoxication." And jail was where she deserved, but they let her go because of the "justice". She was still a proper little lady in their eyes, but she deserved what Iris fantasized about more than just exposing her to her worst fears, which had been toxicophobia - the fear of poisoning, the irony. Her heeled boots clicked softly as she approached the kneeling, bound female, the bruises visible on her exposed legs and arms. She put up a fight with these guys.

Iris looked down when Ducard handed her a knife - a gleaming Japanese dagger that made her heart thump and her blood burn with arousal. The deadly beauty of it, to picture Mina's blood on its stainless steel and the satisfaction to follow...she took it and held it in her fingers, the balance of it intoxicating. She turned her attention back to the prisoner and advanced, the five men standing her up and holding her in place. When she saw Iris, her face twisted.

"You're never going to let it go, are you?"

"You honestly think I'll EVER forgive you, you simpering cow?" Iris snarled. "After you leaked the truth out to Dr. Long, that pompous old man I wish I could kill myself now that I will get the chance with you?" Mina's eyes adverted downwards and gasped in horror upon seeing the Asian blade gleaming menacingly in the younger girl's right hand. "I told you I would take back what you stole from me that very first day, and I did. It was pure satisfaction, but there is one thing I wish I did: I should have killed you and your posse when I had the chance."

She was now raising the weapon to admire it before her prey's eyes. "It seems I can't remember every word I said exactly, but karma was one for sure. Karma applies here now, that you have not lived very pleasantly ever since the authorities let you back onto the streets. You fared no better than I have. Remember I long ago warned you that you pay for your sins? Professor Crane and I might have done something against the law, but we all know who the true sinner is." Her hand moved of its own volition towards Mina's throat; clear tears rolled down her cheeks as she failed to think of a proper comeback. What could she do now that she knew her life was coming to an end?

Iris satisfied herself as well as her new mentor when she pulled the plug - figuratively speaking - and slashed Mina Rosenberg's throat, spewing crimson blood onto her face, the sterling silver of the Japanese warrior's dagger glowing ruby with her first victim's blood. The body was let go, collapsing to the floor with a thud. Her veins rushed with adrenaline as she wished Jonathan was here to see this. Mina was only the first, with more to come.

~o~

Today

She had been thinking of that memory of her very first kill with Ra's al Ghul. It was only after Mina's corpse had been disposed of and never found because he ordered it eviscerated that the question arose in her mind at the time as to who he truly was.

"Ducard is just a mask of who you truly are, isn't it?" she'd asked him, and he only smiled at her as if knowing she would catch up sooner or later.

"Indeed. My name is Ra's al Ghul, which is also translated to mean -"

"The demon's head." Her Arabic was limited, but she was fluent otherwise. Linguistics was not at the top of her specialty list, but it was part of her abilities. "So, one of your men takes your true identity while you assume the guise of the right-hand man," she had said with a knowing smile. "Another person would call that cheap parlor, but it's genius."

"And one you should take from me. Separating yourself from what you will soon become so no one will stop you. Theatricality and deception are powerful weapons, which I will soon teach you after the art of ninjitsu."

From then on, for the remainder of her senior and graduating year, Iris sustained more scars, blood, and bruises in her gruesome combat training, but this she welcomed like a friend as they were no strangers to her body. As well, as she completed her courses, she hunted down the remainders of Mina Rosenberg's band until they were all gone. Each death was ruled as "accidental with no evidence of foul play", all bordered on intoxication on their records as it was common for athletes to engage in those activities. No one suspected Iris DeLaine, a former victim of theirs.

"Dr. DeLaine, I'm warning you that your patient will not be set free to roam our streets again," Van Dorn was warning her over the phone, making her chuckle and click her pen out of habit.

"Pardon me, dear Janet, but it is you who are wasting your breath in this matter. The decision stands as Jonathan Crane's assigned psychiatrist and the head of this institution and will face court with enough legal evidence to prove he is legally sane that will invalidate your decision to send him to Blackgate for life imprisonment," she said calmly and coldly, wishing the woman was in front of her so she could see the look on her face, but she would have to settle for a phone talk for now until next week. She was more than confident enough that the judge would side with her as she also happened to know his daughter who had gone to Gotham State with Iris, worked alongside her at Arkham while Jonathan was still its head before she was killed apparently by Falcone's thugs.

"I never waste my breath," the District Attorney said heatedly, not realizing she was in deeper than she thought she was. "You haven't won this battle, doctor -"

"But I will, I promise you that," Iris interrupted. "Now, do me a favor and stop wasting your words on this useless crusade of yours. Just because you come from a family of lawyers does not mean you will accomplish their ambitions after calling them your own. I myself fought long and hard to get to where I am now; you got your job as a lawyer in the beginning because your family stems from it." She tuned out Van Dorn's comeback when she looked up at the clock, again, out of habit, and cleared her throat. "I hate to break this up, but I have a patient coming in. I do not wish to hear from you again until next week. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly, but I warn you, your mad doctor will not make it to see his day of freedom," Van Dorn said frostily before cutting the line.

"The hell he won't," Iris hissed as she glared at the phone before putting it back on its post.

~o~

"By the issue and order of the state of New York and the city of Gotham, I hereby declare Jonathan Crane legally sane and therefore free to go."

He had not been able to stop thinking about those words ever since they left Gotham last night, nor could he forget the look on Janet Van Dorn's face when she lost her case. His release papers had been drawn up that early afternoon and the board's decision had been final, given his progress was positive. As soon as Iris led him out the front doors, the press had swarmed them, but Jonathan wasn't interested in talking to them - he just wanted to go home with Iris, but tonight he was leaving with her and catching a personal flight - so Iris brushed them all off and opened the door for him before getting into her shiny black SUV herself and driving off.

Here he was now in an outfit Iris lent him - a blue pullover over a white t-shirt and jeans - and as soon as he had left the courthouse, he smelled the fresh air of coming spring for the first time.

And of freedom.

They departed on a private jet Iris owned, left to her by her parents. He remembered laying on a long, warm ivory couch across from her, head plopped on a couple of the dark pillows, and having his shoes kicked off. The flight was four hours long, and he remembered as well watching her while she was in her teal blouse with its gracefully draping neckline and free-flowing black skirt, every now and then filling out paperwork on another patient at the hospital whilst giving him her full attention. She even had dinner made for them, which was a simple steak and potatoes plate with a delicious nonalcoholic beverage Jonathan did not remember ever having before - a mango smoothie topped with a mango wedge and a white orchid for decoration - to which Jonathan smiled in return and graciously accepted, his face glowing when he savored the taste of something sweet for the first time in a long time. Seeing him that way seemed to make Iris savor hers, too, and the sight of him so happy.

He was happy. He had been locked away in an insane asylum for two years, and now he was free.

But there was only one more thing left to do.

He looked out the window and felt his insides churn with nausea. Arlen, Georgia, the town of the horrors he lived his whole life. He began to second-guess himself, but Iris sensed it all. "We won't be here long, remember?" she whispered, reaching out to him and putting her hand on his when they stepped out of her jet. "We'll be here for a day and then we are gone once business is finished." By business, there was only one thing that meant "business"; the double use of the word in his sentence made him want to laugh.

"So, are we just going to go straight for it instead of 'checking out the sights'?" she asked Jonathan a moment later as they began to walk in the direction of their rented vehicle for the day. He nodded; the sooner they got this over with, the better.

Along the drive through his childhood town, nothing changed a bit. Arlen was in the deep southwest, so there was nothing much but enough to make it look like a small Western town complete with the schoolhouse, the local bar, the few shopping centers, a single neighborhood, and everything else important - the one place in the world Jonathan Crane and Iris DeLaine would be going to rested on the outside of town and would not be noticed in time until too late. Not that anyone had been there for years at best, from what he had been told.

At long last, after the long, uneventful, quiet drive all the way out here, the silver Volvo sat before IT.

The old Crane Manor.

Or what was left of it.

His grandmother Mariah's old crumbling estate was a Victorian number that could easily have come from the Gothic era of Dracula, but no one out here had the funding to buy it or sell it to anyone else, letting it go to rot. It had not even been left to him, either, despite the fact he was her grandson and the only living relative she'd had at the time. The vast fields were overgrown and wild - the fields he used to care for in the seasons that passed, got whipped for his slowness, struck, he could go on forever. The old scarecrow was still on its cross of a pole; he remembered always seeing it every time he was taken out back and wishing it was alive so he had a real friend in that godforsaken church to protect him while the crows descended on him, their deadly talons piercing his flesh and drawing more blood than his grandmother could ever do to him...

"Do you really want to go in there?" Iris asked softly, scrutinizing it, her lip curling slightly. He looked beside her, noticing her new wardrobe of choice for now; her royal blue plaid shirt was buttoned down a few to show some skin of her chest and curves, tucked into her tight black jeans, hair wild and behind her back. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

"Yes," Jonathan answered. Going inside first meant listening to the voices that remained there before it all came down from there. The gasoline and matches were all in the trunk and waiting, having been brought in from home so no one suspected the fire by their hand.

They entered through the front door, greeted with falling dust and the threat of debris collapsing overhead. It was dark, with very little light, and the electricity had not come on in years. Neither of them would be surprised if the water system was filled with slime, too. The staircase to upstairs was before them, too. He was the first to step in, barely hearing or feeling much of anything now and once more facing the place where his horrors were born. It began when his mother was young and conceiving him here in this house, giving birth in secret while her mother stood by and watched with hate; it was Mariah who spat at the newborn while Karen only lay there and wanted the unwanted baby that was her own son gone. It was when he was not even ten years old that she took off for good and he never saw or heard from her from then on. The only sources of sensation he contracted was the awareness that his hands closed into fists so his knuckles turned white, his nails digging into his skin and longing to draw blood that would drip to the dead floor beneath his feet, the cold air washing over him as the voices of the ghosts returned to him...

"Disgusting...sinful...like your mother!"

"No, Grandmother, please! Don't make me go there!"

"It's for your sins, Jonathan. What better way to cleanse you of Satan's work that your whore of a mother bestowed into this house? That's exactly what you are: the Devil's spawn!"

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling as well as hearing his heart beat fast, his skin becoming soaked to the forehead with perspiration as his psyche tried to fight it off. That was the entire purpose of why he was here. "No, I'm not evil! It wasn't my fault!"

"Speak no more lies! Inside, NOW, where they will draw the filthy blood from you!"

"Jonathan?"

He jumped when he felt Iris' hand on his shoulder. Jonathan whirled around and looked down at her, taking breaths to control himself, and avoided looking at her altogether. "I'm...sorry," he said quietly. "Being here...I feel if I remain just standing here, it will never go away."

She nodded. "Then how about we get out of here now and get the equipment ready?"

That was more than enough of a brilliant idea. They started at the entrance they came in, worked their way through the downstairs, and just left it there as the entire house would catch on fire in a matter of time. The entire time, Jonathan glimpsed the kitchen where he did all of the cooking and cleaning, then the staircase once more where she would drag him down and out the back to the church which had to be as dilapidated and ready to burn as this place was - and the rooms upstairs, one of which had been his and bare as his mother left it for him, the forbidden room he would sneak to at night and during his grandmother's afternoon rests to expand his knowledge and savor the peace he never had at school or with her. All of this Iris noticed herself but did not ask given she saw everything in his eyes and remembered everything he trusted her with.

Iris handed him a match as soon as they were out the front door, the deed done and the switch ready to be thrown for ignition. "Do the honors, my love."

My love...

That was the first time she had ever said those words to him. He sighed through his nose and let it out slowly, looking deep into her bright sapphire eyes matching his own. That was enough of a reason to light this match along the side of the doorway and then toss it forward, bolting away with her as soon as the amber and gold flames burst and began to spread throughout the manor that had been his prison. A prison of his soul, even though he didn't believe in the afterlife - another reason for her to beat the devil's filth out of him. The heat of the fire reached his face as he stood before the estate and watched as the fire slowly but quickly spread, breaking glass windows and bursting through, consuming it in a rage. He could almost hear the screaming of his grandmother as her spirit seemingly abandoned this age-old cage. Holding Iris close to his body made Jonathan feel freer.

"It's done."

He nodded, but there was one more place to burn. One more old picture to put into the fireplace. He led Iris around the burning house and traveled through the overgrown fields to the very place that destroyed his sanity forever. "This is the church. I know the crows must be all gone, but I can still hear their screeches and the flappings of their wings," he said, the weight of the gasoline tank still in his hands. She opened the door for him and allowed him inside; in a fury, he tossed the last of the tank inside, leaving it in before drawing another match. It would be gone soon, too, the remainders of the past screeching to an end along with his grandmother Mariah Crane and the crows.

"You won't haunt me again, Grandmother," he whispered venomously as he looked at the church, the smell of fire and smoke filling his senses. "I know your life had to have been difficult, but nothing will change how you maimed, screamed at me, and locked me in so the crows would claw me away. I was an innocent child - until I became a man and finally gave you what you deserved. I never deserved what you gave me, no matter Mother doing what she did. But neither of you will come and destroy me again." He paused there and shook his head. "Neither of you was the woman I needed the most...unlike this one beside me," he said when he turned to look down at Iris, her wild raven hair fluttering in the breeze and shining light with her soft smile. "However, one day will come when I might be able to forgive you both one hundred percent as I forgave myself." He felt his throat tighten as he tried not to cry, the power of the light coming on in his being that he accepted as the final step.

~o~

By the time she started the car engine, her cheeks, and skin were still burning with not only the fire of both structures but the poignant memory of Jonathan's speech as he finally let go of the demons of his childhood.

Two hearts, two bucket seats,

too much sun not to wear shades

Boot to the pedal and pedal to the metal,

we're the reason this road was paved, yeah

Now honey, how fast you wanna go, NASCAR driving Miss Daisy

Radio loud, radio low, or I can sing if you want me to baby

I can tell God's smiling down, I just get that feeling

You and me going town to town, on two lanes of freedom

Jonathan smiled upon hearing this song. "We haven't heard this in a while," he noted, having loved this three years ago when it was first released. Now it fit the two of them having taken this trip out of Gotham to the south. He then unbuckled and got out of the car again, having turned up the radio loud enough to be heard outdoors and risk attracting passersby. Iris burst out laughing when he came around and pulled her from the driver's seat for a dance.

Oh, no red lights or stop signs around for miles

Just swaying trees, your hair in the breeze, and that smile, and I know

"God made old country roads for driving and dreaming," Jonathan sang, feeling like doing so, and twirled them both around so that he was looking down at her and into her eyes, taking in her surprised expression and wide-mouth smile. "Mine's coming true, girl, here with you on two lanes of freedom."

Another favorite author of mine is Lauralot, known for many fantastic Jonathan Crane stories. :) "Georgia on My Mind" was the inspiration for Jonathan putting his past behind him so he could move on was nothing short of perfection, especially when it came to his grandmother. Burning down the house and the church had never been done before to my knowledge, but that was what Norman Bates did in the fourth and final "Psycho" film. It was appros and ultimate closure.

Jonathan's grandmother was called many different names, and it's ironic how Mariah is spelled similarly to Maria, Iris' dead mother. XD

You can never go wrong with Tim McGraw, or any of his music I grew up with; this one of his was "Two Lanes of Freedom".