Yes, I'm aware that there's little going on in this section of Fanfiction right now, but I had to start writing a fic. I've been a life-long Batman fanatic, and so it was bound to happen sooner or later – although the only thing I have ever written about Batman was an essay for my 9th grade English class… Anywho, there's a first time for everything. Just like I have yet to post the Spider-Man story I started when I was still in high school… Jeez. Well, if you know me at all, you'd know I pretty much don't write anything other than Resident Evil fics – that's where you'll find me on this site, making people laugh uncontrollably (according to them). I guess I'm a decent comedian.

Anyway, I decided to start this to cope with a problem I have, and all the Batman talk that came with Heath Ledger's death (poor guy) got me re-interested in "Batman Begins", which got me into Jonathan Crane again. I started this with really little idea what it would be about, although now I've got a plan. It starts off on the serious side, but sooner or later, once it gets going, it will have some sort of dark, weird humor to it.

-----------

Desperately Seeking Scarecrow

By Burning Bridges

Chapter One: The Crying Girl

Rain was coming down heavily from a darkened mid-afternoon sky. It's soft, almost tinkling sound drowned out everything else, even in a busy city such as Gotham.

Jonathan Crane was wandering through back alleys where drug dealers normally resided, but today were empty in the cleansing presence of the rain. He had been wandering around after falling off the horse for what felt like ages, half the time completely unaware of what was going on from the effects of the toxin he had gotten a face-full of a couple nights back when he'd had his run-in with Batman… Batman, what a joke.

Fortunately for him, his mental state had finally begun to stabilize. He was still a bit disoriented, and wondered greatly how he'd managed to avoid getting caught this whole time, but he couldn't complain. His life had gone to hell completely in a manner of hours, but at least he was free.

Sort of free.

He glanced irritably at the straitjacket he was still stuck in, suddenly questioning the real usefulness of them even though he'd had plenty of people put in them before. How ironic.

Up ahead there was what seemed to be some sort of public garden. The central structure was simple enough – he could make out wooden beams covered in vines that supported a heavy canopy of English ivy over a maze of plants and whatnot. It seemed safe… But was it?

"I might be able to find something sharp to try getting out of this contraption," he murmured to himself, gazing into the garden wearily, "But what if there's someone around? Hm… I should be fine – only an idiot would go out in weather like this."

He decidedly jogged into the garden and stopped to look around once he was out of the rain. It was surprising how little water actually made it through the ivy ceiling overhead.

He was surrounded by plants of all varieties, many he'd never even seen before, of the most vivid colors. It was almost startling to see that much color in one place… Especially for a man who only ever wore black suits.

Jonathan began to walk about slowly, looking for anything that might be helpful in disengaging the straitjacket he was trapped in. Flower, flower, tree, flower – aha!

He laid eyes on a sharp pike about four feet tall that was jutting out of the ground in one spot – what the hell that was for, he had no idea.

He approached it, elated at the prospect of freedom, when he heard something that caught his attention.

Over the sound of the heavy rain, he could just distinguish a sound like… sobbing?

Curious, he quietly moved towards the source of the sound, and stepped behind an ivy-covered beam beside an L-shaped wall, carefully peering around it.

Sitting a few yards away, was a girl who seemed barely out of her teen years, dressed in a black and white stripe Johnny collar shirt, a short denim skirt and rust-red Converses. Her shoulder-length, dark brunette hair was hanging in her face and getting tangled with her glasses as she sat sobbing heavily beside a patch of lilies.

Although Jonathan Crane was admittedly on the heartless side, part of him was interested in why she was sitting in a drafty garden, in the rain, crying her eyes out. In fact, he was slightly amused by the scene.

He was watching her so intently that he didn't realize she was about to look up.

He ducked behind the beam, causing the ivy to rustle. Hopefully she hadn't seen him. He could still hear her sobbing and felt that perhaps she had been too immersed to notice his presence, although he decided to stay put momentarily just to be sure. No sense in alerting her. He listened, not hearing anything more than sobs and rain falling, figuring he was safe, that is, until she came around the corner.

"Hello?"

He jumped, backing into the stone wall and turning to face her. She seemed as startled as he was, even though tears were still visibly streaming down her face.

She regarded him with a slightly alarmed expression, probably weighing the situation in her mind carefully. "Sir," she addressed him in a breaking tone, "Do you… need help?"

He didn't reply right away, trying to think of what to do.

"W-what happened to you? …Would you like me to get you out of that?"

Her reaction was a tad unexpected. It should have been obvious there was something horribly wrong with this scene, and yet she was acting like it was a normal, everyday occurrence.

"Uh…" he began, not sure what to say. "Yes?"

She wiped her eyes, stifling another sob, and moved closer to him. He stared at her uneasily in response. "Turn around so I can undo the straps."

He hesitated, not certain what to think of her, but gave in to his desire to use his arms again. He turned slowly, keeping an eye on her as she began undoing the straps.

Ah, finally his arms were free again… What a wonderful feeling!

She undid the last strap buckle, and the straitjacket loosened. Jonathan slipped it off, folding it over his arm.

"What happened?" she asked softly, still rubbing her eyes.

He didn't have to tell her the truth. "Err… I got mugged by very disturbing people," he said simply.

"Uh-huh. Right." She shook her head. "You're Dr. Crane from the Arkham asylum. I saw your picture on the news."

She knew who he was and she still helped him? He wasn't used to people being kind to him to begin with, but the notion of someone helping a person they knew was a dangerous criminal – or as Jonathan preferred to think of himself, as 'an entrepreneur' – was rather odd to say the least.

"You don't have to worry. I won't tell anyone."

"You… knew the whole time?"

"Yeah. I had to help you, though… You looked so pathetic."

Jonathan was insulted by that. After running around drugged up for days, anyone would be a complete mess. "You're one to talk," he retorted.

As if on cue, she began sobbing uncontrollably again and turned around, walking back towards the stone bench she'd been seated on before.

He rolled his eyes. He barely even said anything – what was her problem?

Feeling ever so slightly bothered by the result of his comment, he went over to where she was sitting, covering her face with her hands and crying pitifully. "Was it something I said?" he asked indifferently.

She sobbed harder.

As unusual as it was for him, he began to feel a little bad for her. Taking on the gentler tone that he used when talking to people other than his patients, he took a step closer. "What's the matter? Why are you out here, having a fit in the rain?"

"It's…" she barely managed to say.

"You can tell me," he reassured, and she took a deep breath in an attempt to regain her composure.

"It's because of a guy…"

Jonathan wanted to say 'screw you' and walk away at that point, having no interest in people's relationship problems, but she was in such a piteous state he stayed, being one who rather enjoys other people's misery.

"I'm in love with a dear friend of mine, and we were talking about getting involved months ago… But he turned me down. Then we started trying to think of anything that might change his mind… But he turned me down again. I don't know what to do…"

To him, this seemed like typical girl behavior, so he settled for the most clichéd logic he could think of. "There are other fish in the sea."

"In this case, no, there aren't."

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"He and I are a lot alike… Almost as if we were separated at birth, or it was some weird joke being played by aliens. He feels like my missing piece… And he's the only person I've ever actually loved." She had nearly stopped crying at this point, trying to dry her eyes with the back of her arm. "The tarot cards told me this would happen, but they also told me it would all work out somehow… I guess I've exhausted everything I can do. It's out of my hands now."

Tarot cards. Jonathan, being a realist and really having very little faith in anything that he couldn't prove through a means of science or logic, didn't feel that tarot cards were anything more than some sort of parlor trick.

She paused, looking wistfully at the rain coming down. "We were meant to meet each other, I know it… There is something more to our friendship than just coincidence."

Quite frankly, this girl was starting to sound crazy. Not to mention she was acting somewhat hysterical – she'd once again broke down into tears, and sounded like she was sobbing so hard that she could barely breathe.

Hysteric, he noted mentally, observing her in a thoughtful manner.

"I just want to go live under a rock and never come out again," she managed between sobs.

Appears greatly discontented, he added.

"I feel like shooting myself in the foot just to take my mind off of this mess…"

Faintly sarcastic proposal of self-mutilation, he concluded to himself with a tinge of interest.

He knew what to do. Jonathan reached out and placed a hand on her arm. "Come on."

She took on as much of an uneasy tone as is possible when crying. "What?"

"Come with me."

"Why sh-should I?"

"Just trust me."

She looked at him for a moment. "He's trying to rape me! He's invading my personal space!" she shouted suddenly, and he quickly covered her mouth with his free hand.

"I want to help you. But first I need you to come with me."

"How do I know you're not going to pull something? You are a wanted felon, after all," she replied once he'd removed his hand.

"You have my word," he replied with a slightly sour note at the thought of having been declared a criminal, "Now come with me."

She slowly got up, not sure how to interpret this whole thing. "Where are we going?"

"My apartment. I can figure out what to do from there."

"You could use a shower, too," she sniffled as they walked out into the rain.

He gave her a dirty look over his shoulder. "If you were restrained for days and needed to empty your bladder, what would you do?"

"Too much information, thanks."

---------

This chapter was actually supposed to go until the reached their destination, but I decided to cut it short because I spent a long time working on something else and I need to go to sleep really bad right now. That's okay though, it forms sort of an introduction. Well, that's it for this chapter. If you're reading, leave me a review and let me know what you think!