The next morning, Jonathan dressed and ate his breakfast, then packed all his belongings in his bags as instructed. Angel, Angel's brother Raphael, Basard, and the two usual guards waited downstairs. The guards took a separate vehicle, leading them into the Narrows.

Jonathan sat quietly next to Basard in the front of the Humvee, his hands folded in his lap. His heart pounded in his chest, and he was having trouble swallowing. He wasn't entirely sure what he expected to find at Arkham. With any luck, it'd be abandoned. Inmates gone, staff hiding in their homes. Because why not? What on earth was keeping anyone there? The staff wasn't paid enough to deal with the shit they dealt with when the city wasn't under occupation. Why would they stay now?

That didn't make the nerves go away.

"Stop." Basard covered Jonathan's hands with his own and squeezed.

He started and blinked. Jonathan hadn't realized they'd come to a stop. Angel and Raphael were already outside the Humvee.

Basard took one of Jonathan's hands. "You're bleeding again." He raised Jonathan's hand to his mouth and kissed it. "You need to be kinder to yourself. Why are you anxious?"

Jonathan tried to smile. He failed miserably. "This place doesn't hold happy memories for me."

"You do realize that's behind you now. You're under the protection of the League of Shadows. No one may hurt you."

His lips twisted wryly. "Not physically, perhaps."

Basard's hand tightened. He turned Jonathan's hand and pressed his lips to the inside of Jonathan's wrist. They lingered. "I will personally tear anyone apart who disrespects you."

The whiskers of Basard's goatee tickled the delicate skin of Jonathan's wrist, causing him to shiver. He loved that sensation. That feeling was why he always encouraged Bruce to grow a goatee before he came to visit, beyond the obvious usefulness of a disguise.

Basard slowly ran his hand down Jonathan's arm before he released it and sat back. Jonathan thought he looked smug. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

They climbed out of the Humvee, Basard, as usual, helping Jonathan out. They group walked over the uneven pavement of the parking lot. The guards entered the asylum first, slinging their weapons across their chests and kicking the doors open. Angel and Raphael followed, and then Basard escorted Jonathan in.

He hadn't known what to expect. The scene he found wasn't it.

Two nurses stood in front of the door that led to the ward. Both had their arms crossed over their chests and glared at the League of Shadows mercenaries like they were naughty schoolboys. Through the security glass on the door, Jonathan could see several very young orderlies armed with what looked like baseball bats and chairs. Behind them stood Dr. Joan Leland and a male doctor Jonathan didn't recognize.

"Open the door," one of the mercenaries ordered.

"No."

It took a moment for Jonathan to remember the nurse's name. Brenda …Brenda something. She'd been there forever. She'd been there when Jonathan had been hired and had still been there when he'd escaped. Large, soft bodied, even tempered, and fierce, Brenda knew her job in and out and never let anyone make her deviate from what she knew was right.

Which meant the redhead on Brenda's right was Wendy, her partner in crime. Another Arkham Asylum staple, she was meaner than Brenda and had a heavy hand with needles. Jonathan always had bruises left over when Wendy was done with him, but at least she'd also left cherry flavored lollipops, so he couldn't complain too much.

The mercenary stepped closer to Brenda and placed the rifle barrel on her forehead. "Bitch…"

"That's enough," Jonathan said before he thought about it. He quickly crossed to the mercenary and pulled the barrel away. "You are not going to shoot her."

The mercenary actually growled at Jonathan, but then Basard was at his side. Jonathan couldn't see the look on his protector's face, but it was enough to make the mercenary back down.

Jonathan turned to Brenda. "We're not here to hurt you or anyone inside. I'm just here to look through some records."

Brenda looked at him through narrowed eyes for a long moment before turning to Wendy. They stared at each other for a moment. Then, Wendy shrugged.

Brenda turned back. "Doctor Crane, thank the good Lord you are here. There are five inmates still inside and even that is too much for one doctor to care for all on her own. We need your help."

Jonathan blinked, shocked that he'd been recognized so easily. "I see two doctors."

"Oh, Matthew? He's Wendy's nephew and just a medical student. He came to help Dr. Leland out. She hasn't left the asylum since Saturday." Brenda turned, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. "No automatic weapons in the ward."

"You stay out here," Basard ordered his men. He handed them his rifle and followed as Brenda and Wendy led Jonathan inside.

The orderlies tensed, raising their makeshift weapons slightly, but Brenda shook her head and waved them down. "It's fine, boys. They won't hurt us."

Joan was frowning as she pushed past the protective orderlies. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded, looking from the nurses to Jonathan and Basard then back again. There was no hint of recognition in the eyes of Jonathan's former colleague and doctor, which only further cemented the conclusion that Brenda was a witch.

"You need help, Doctor," Brenda said. "You need sleep. Dr. Crane here is more than qualified to lend a hand. Three of the patients are comatose anyway. The other two don't do anything but stare at the TV. All we need is someone who knows how to deal with the medication and any medical issues that pop up. We already agreed that all counseling sessions are stopped until this is over."

Joan looked baffled. "Dr. Crane?"

Jonathan smiled. "Hi, Joan," he said using Sugar's sweetest voice. "It's lovely to see you again."

Her mouth dropped. "What the fuck."

He laughed and fluttered his eyelashes. "We can talk about it sometime." Jonathan tucked a curl behind his ear. "You do look terrible. And, I suppose, I'll need a place to work." He glanced at Basard. "I need a place to experiment, and I used to have a lab downstairs."

Joan sighed and tiredly pushed hair off her forehead. "It's a storage space now." She rubbed her eyes. "But I guess it can be set up again. But no experimenting on the patients."

"No."

She clearly didn't believe him. "No experimenting on the staff, either."

He gave her a thin smile. "Why experiment on the few people here when I have an entire city at my disposal?" Jonathan turned to Basard. "Unless Bane will object to me spending my days here?"

Basard shook his head. "Do as he asks, and he won't care where you do it. This place is as good as any. My men will be outside as guards. Angel and Raphael can help you and the nurses." He looked at Joan. "If that will suffice?"

"And Bane will leave us alone?" Joan asked.

"Of course. And I'll personally oversee that you are adequately supplied."

Joan looked at Brenda and Wendy, who both nodded.

"All right, then." Joan clapped her hands together. "Let me show you around."

Jonathan bristled at the idea he needed to be shown around his own Goddamn asylum. A hot flush went through him, prickling at the nape of his neck.

Brenda clicked her tongue. "Doctor Leland, you go on home right now. Get some sleep. I've got this."

"Brenda…"

"I said go, Doctor. Or at least go into your office and lie down for a few hours. You need rest."

Joan stood there a moment, looking exhausted and angry, before she threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine. I'll sleep in my office. But wake me if anything happens." She looked at Jonathan narrowly, then turned on her heel and left.

Brenda turned to Matthew. "Go check vitals on rooms one, two, and three while I get Doctor Crane settled."

The young man nodded and left.

"All right, Doctor Crane. Now, you already know the place, but let's get you caught up on the patients and their cases. Benny? Alec? Take Doctor Crane's friends downstairs to the old lab and help them start clearing it out."

Basard stepped closer to Jonathan, hand pressed to the small of Jonathan's back. "Will you be all right?" His breath stirred the curls behind Jonathan's ear.

He must be really keyed up this morning, because that sent a small shiver down his spine, too. Cheeks heating, Jonathan forced himself to smile. "I'll be fine."

"Good." Basard leaned in as if he was going to kiss Jonathan on the cheek, but he pulled back just before he made contact. If Jonathan didn't know better, he'd say that Basard looked embarrassed as he stepped away, following the orderlies.

Jonathan looked at Brenda and Wendy, who were both giving him all-too knowing looks. His face went up in flames, so he lifted his chin regally and said, "Well?"

"I'll go check on the patients in the rec room," Wendy said and left.

Brenda waved and led Jonathan past the nurse's station to what used to be his office. Where once it'd been a pristine haven of order, now the surfaces were cluttered with papers, files, and half-filled paper cups of coffee. Diplomas and awards hung on the walls, lauding the achievements of some doctor that Jonathan didn't care about.

"I know this isn't how you left it, Doctor," Brenda said, picking up the trash from the desk and throwing it into the wastebasket. "Doctor Hamilton was a pig through and through. Kept expecting the nurses to pick up after him. Yelled at us when we didn't." She tossed a couple framed photographs into the trash as well. "Shitty psychiatrist, too. Nothing like you."

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't need to flatter me. I need a place to work and have no problem assuming my old role. But let's not pretend that anyone wants me here."

"Trust me, Doctor Crane, when I say that even with what you did, you were lightyears above Hamilton."

Jonathan snorted.

Brenda stormed over to him and tore the diploma from the wall. "I caught him cornering one of my girls one day. She was in tears. Refused to tell me what happened. I watched her withdraw more and more into herself, and you know what happened?"

He swallowed and looked away from Brenda. "She stole sedatives and overdosed."

"Her brother found her in time." She slammed the diploma into the wastebasket, the glass shattering. "But, please, explain to me how you drugging criminals is worse than that."

Personally, he agreed with her. No one else did, but he'd never been one to follow the crowd. "How do you know he's not coming back?"

"Please. He was out the door before that Bane maniac had finished pontificating at the football field. You'd have never run."

Of course not. Not out of any noble aspirations, he simply wasn't one to be driven out by fear. "How'd you know it was me?"

Brenda snorted. "Your eyes gave you away, baby. Plus, you always carried yourself like a queen. It just suits you now."

His cheeks tingled. To hide his reaction, Jonathan went to the filing cabinet and opened a drawer. "I need to look through my old things."

"Of course. What for?"

"Does it matter?" He glanced at her.

She shrugged and shook her head.

Jonathan flipped through the files, weighing his options. After a moment, he said, "I'm curious to see if my old notes are with the files."

There was a beat of silence. Then Brenda said, "You mean, the notes about your fear gas?"

"Yes."

She let out a hard exhale. "They're not there."

Every muscle in his body went stiff. Pain screeched up his neck causing a headache to explode behind his eyes. He swallowed and pushed the drawer closed. Then he turned and walked to the open door, closing it firmly.

Brenda's complexion looked ashy when he turned back, her eyes full of fear. He stepped close to her. She came up to his chin, so he lowered his head so he could speak into her ear.

"How do you know that?" He used his gentlest voice. It wasn't one hundred percent Sugar's, which tended to be more for customers. This was closer to the voice he considered truly his, and he often used it when one of the girls at work was upset and needed calming. He didn't want to scare Brenda more than she already was.

She glanced up at him, surprised, but visibly calmed. "About a year after you escaped, the Joker broke in. He wanted your formula. We didn't know it was gone. Dr. Leland… we all thought it was still in that damned box, but when he went to look through it…" She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Killed an orderly and one of the nurses. Ripped up their faces and left them to bleed out."

God damnit, Bruce. His nails bit into his palms as Jonathan forced the anger down. He knew why Bruce had never told him. God knew how he'd managed to keep it out of the papers. If Jonathan had known, it would have fucked him up. Back then, when his control and identity had been so tenuous, it would have been a disaster for him to know that the Joker had all but been calling him out. Even now, Jonathan couldn't say what he would have done.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and unclenched his fists. "Don't let the men guarding me know."

"What's going on, doctor?"

"Bane wants me to make my toxin. I'm trying to buy as much time as I can before he either forces me or …or kills me. I knew the notes weren't here, but I'd hope there'd be something I could pretend to work off of."

Brenda shook her head. "Do you know where they are?"

"I think so."

"Why not just make it, then? Isn't this what you always wanted? Anarchy in the city and the freedom to do what you wanted with it?"

Jonathan smiled thinly. "Honey, four days ago, all I wanted was to go back to my drag club, keep the books, mix cocktails, and eventually marry the man I love. Now? I just hope I can survive this and still be worthy of his love."

A warm hand took Jonathan's and squeezed. "Then I'll get you through this. You can count on me."