His Darling Assistant

Part 1: Welcome to Arkham

Dr. Jonathan Crane strode down the long hallway of Arkham Asylum to his office door, carrying a stack of patient files from the archives. He had just been down to the lowest level to check on some of his experiments and he decided he would bring some files up to his office to reorganize since he had been down there anyway. The expanse that was the archival room daunted him, files and papers sticking out from every nook. He cursed the director before him for being so unorganized.

"Excuse me Dr. Crane?" asked an enquiring voice behind him. Jonathan turned to see you wielding a small notebook and a map of the asylum he assumed was given to you by the front desk. He looked at you expectantly, and you gave him your name.

"It's a pleasure, Miss, welcome to Arkham," he replied, shaking your hand, "What brings you to me?" He hoped you weren't another reporter for the damned Gotham Gazette. He'd had about enough of their noses poking into his experiments.

"It's Doctor, actually. I'm your new hire, you're supposed to show me around," you corrected him, "Dr. Crane, I just want to say how inspiring I find your work. I wrote my thesis on fear, and the control it has over the psyche, and suffice to say, your articles got me my PhD. Even now, I haven't stopped thinking about it."

"I suppose it's good to know I have fans," smiled Crane. He vaguely remembered being told he would have a new assistant, but he had been so exhausted with his lab work recently that he had pushed it aside. How time flies, he mused to himself as he led his new charge to his office.

+++

"Why does fear interest you?"

He sat across from you, his desk a barrier between the two of you. As you took the seat opposite him, you waited a moment before answering, and Jonathan noticed how you chewed on your bottom lip while you were thinking. He remembered having the same habit growing up, until his father made him stop.

"Well, I suppose I've let it control me. I'd like to be freed, if possible."

"What do you fear most?"

"Being controlled," you replied, not missing a beat, "I guess I fear having a lack of autonomy."

"Interesting," Crane stared into your eyes, "and where do you think your fear stems from?"

You met his gaze, and something about the way you looked at him made the doctor realize you were reliving an old memory. Past trauma, presumably abuse of some kind, perhaps an ex-lover, he scribbled into his notebook, and then realized that you weren't one of his patients. Not that that changed much. He wanted to learn more about your fears. He wondered what hallucinations his toxin would induce in your mind.

"Past experience," you said, your voice strong and clear, although Jonathan couldn't help but notice how your smile faded slightly and you blinked, as if clearing your eyes from the image of your past, "Pardon my language, but I guess I have a pretty shit taste in men."

Dr. Crane smiled slightly, his initial assumption of you being proven correct. An overwhelming protectiveness overcame him, and then he immediately pushed it aside, cursing himself for having such thoughts. Attachments were far too complicated for his line of work. Besides, he barely knew you, and you were his employee.

"If I may-"

"Yes?"

"What do you fear, Dr. Crane?"

He was taken aback; nobody had ever asked him that question before, and he had to realize that you were not cruel, and that you couldn't do much with the information anyway before answering.

"It's a little silly-"

"I won't laugh at you."

Crane stared at you, hoping with all his might that you didn't have ulterior motives.

"Scarecrows. I hate them, actually."

True to your word, you didn't laugh. Instead, you cocked your head and looked at Dr. Crane curiously. Crane had a sudden feeling that you could see his thoughts, and looked away.

"Why scarecrows?"

Jonathan was suddenly locked in that room again from his childhood, begging for his father to set him free, refusing to look at the straw man who was grinning wildly at him from the darkest corner of the room, and he stood abruptly, pushing his chair back behind him.

"I'm afraid our time has come to a close today," he said, voice suddenly cold and abrasive. You stood as well.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"I'll see you again tomorrow. You'll begin your work then."

Your heart sank. You cursed yourself for being too curious, but his alluring smile and deep blue eyes had pulled you into a need to understand Dr. Crane; to truly know him.

As you left Arkham, you made a mental rule for yourself; you couldn't fall in love with Dr. Crane. He was your boss, after all, it would simply be inappropriate and unprofessional. Little did you know, Dr. Jonathan Crane was making himself a very similar promise as he watched you leave from his office window.