Within Arkham's Walls: Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow x OC Fanfiction

V. The Lab

I had no idea how to respond to the words that just slid off of of Crane's tongue. I gave a breathy chuckle just trying to give myself more time to think of a response.

"If anybody should be locked up here, Dr. Crane," I smugly looked him up and down, "it's you."

He raised an eyebrow of surprise. Shit, maybe I was being to casual and cocky now. Here comes the wrath, I anxiously thought to myself. One simple gesture from this man sent me into full on fight or flight mode.

Where the hell was this pharmacist with my meds?

But to my sudden surprise, the doctor gave a seemingly genuine laugh and bashfully looked down at the floor. "You know, you're probably right about that. Also, you're not on the clock, so please, call me Jonathan."

My stomach leaped. He had never been so casual. "I suppose you can call me Ianthe then. Until 8:00 AM Monday morning at least." He laughed again. A sweet but maniacal sound. Just as as Dr. Crane—Jonathan—was about to speak again, the pharmacist came back with my meds.

I took a look at the receipt stapled to the bag and deducted that the dosage was correct. Now I could be on my way. I gazed back up at the doctor. "Well, I'll be off then," I shook the bag containing my medication slightly, "have a good night."

I turned and started to make my way towards the exit, holding my breath.

"Ianthe, one moment." I paused before turning to face Crane. "Let me see what you got there. If you don't mind of course." Jonathan was a psychologist, not a psychiatrist, so I'm not sure what interest he had in my medication. I reluctantly handed him the sack containing the bottle of pills, hanging on to the silence, waiting for his next words. He gave the bag of a disapproving look and then casted his calculated gaze back up to me.

"This isn't going to do to much for you," he explained as he dropped the sack back into my sweating palms. "It appears you're going out, so I can give you something a little more...fast acting. If you'd like." I stared at him blankly. What? Was he going to give me something illegal?

"Uhh, Dr. Cr—, err, Jonathan, I appreciate it, but I think I'll be okay." But he pressed further. "If you don't like it, the effects will wear off after a couple of hours. I think it's worth a shot—and yes, it's...legal." He must've read my mind, though his hesitation had me questioning.

✣

The next thing I knew, we were up in his office, which was an absolute mess. Scribbled notes and binders were scattered about and there seemed to be no set order of anything. I quietly scanned the room as Jonathan fumbled in his desk drawer, eventually pulling out a small key.

"What's that for?" I asked, motioning towards the key. "It's for my lab. This way." He had a lab? In an asylum? Attached to his office? I felt that something was off, but I let my curiosity get in the way of turning back. Besides, he wouldn't hurt me, and if I backed out now, I would be cowering to the fear that I had promised myself I wouldn't let him see. And though I had been anxious to leave before, something deep inside me wanted to linger with Dr. Crane a little bit longer...

He unlocked the door adjacent from the one we used to come in, and I didn't hesitate to make my way to it and enter what seemed to be some hidden corridor. Whatever it was that he had back here had better fucking work because I was officially creeped out.

We entered the lab, which was significantly more organized than the office. I looked around and took in the scene, pretending not to notice Crane carefully watching me. "Hidden corridors with secret labs inside of an asylum...classic and creepy. So is this the part where I die?" Jonathan didn't seemed amused though, and just blankly stated, "Death is not a joke, Ianthe. Especially not in a place like this." There was the mood swing. I knew the light attitude wouldn't last for long.

It was silent for just a moment before Crane's velvet voice cut through the dusty, dim air. "All right Ms. Thatcher, let me get this medication for you and you can be on your way." I nodded in compliance. I watched Dr. Crane as he looked about his cabinets. How disturbingly perfect his profile was as he scanned the shelves, his rough hands delicately picking through bottles and scanning across labels.

"It's in here some-," he was cut off the sound of someone calling him from his office. "Dr. Crane? Dr. Crane!" An elderly female voice yelled down the corridor, probably a staff member. Annoyance filled his face and tone as he told the woman to wait one moment. He turned to me. "I'll be back." Jonathan was almost to the corridor when he turned around and snarled at me coldly, "Don't touch anything." Then he left.

Willingly disobeying him, I began to pick about the room as quickly and quietly as possible. I knew I didn't have much time, but I had to see what a psychologist would be keeping in a hidden and secluded lab. I saw all kinds of viles, lab equipment, chemical components, and substances that I didn't recognize.

There were also several aerosol cans containing some sort of odd substance that I didn't dare spray.

I was almost done with being nosy until I saw a small table in the very back corner of the room with some papers and folders neatly stacked on it, which contrasted the chaotic desk of papers I had seen in the office that led to the corridor. I knew I was running out of time before the doctor came back, but one quick glance wouldn't hurt.

That was until I saw my name on all of the case files and papers. When I opened up the folders and carefully skimmed the papers, there was all my information. Any and every medication that I had ever taken, every little detail about myself and my life that I had told my therapist, everything. Why did he have this down here?

I heard footsteps, so I quickly retreated back to the spot the doctor had left me in and acted like nothing happened. He gave me the medication as he said he would, which did actually work, and then I was on my way. But I didn't end up going out after.