Ello everyone, Minion here! First I would like to take a moment to fangirl...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! *cough cough* okay, now that I'm done I'd like to explain a few things XD I began this story with a close friend of mine (Megamind) about a year ago and now it's well on its way to being finished. After some debate Megamind and I decided to post our stories seperately then join our crazy writing forces on another story after our first ones are done. Now this is the first book/story of my creation that is so big o.o not to mention it is complete although I'll be updating every Saturday with a new chapter since I'm halfway through writing the sequel ^-^ So I hope you all enjoy this story, and while there is 'romance' this story is centered more around darker themes and includes some angst with the occasional dabble in violence but most of all the chilling mind games and mental torture that is customary with Dr. Crane ^-^. Also I do not in any way, shape, or form own Batman/Batman Begins or anything affiliated with it. With that in mind, enjoy!

Prologue:

Chapter 1 Dr. Crane POV

I was uneasy...it wasn't the weather or even the general incompetence of the staff but a death within the asylum. Normally I wouldn't mind, it only brought room for new cases and different opportunities to experiment. My mild agitation lied in 'Gotham's finest' insistence on viewing the body with an 'outside resource' for a second opinion. I found the entire matter to be a waste of time and money. Our staff wasn't so terribly useless as to not correctly label the crazie's death as suicide. The nutter hanged himself with his own straightjacket. There was no question about his identity or the manner in which he died.

Yet the dour news didn't stop there. I learned just a moment ago the usual forensic team was overwhelmed by a current string of serial murders and acts of arson around Gotham. I was assured the finest replacement was coming but I remained doubtful. Nevermind the more pressing matters I could be attending to, I was stuck outside the crazie's cell surrounded by guards and police tape. Did this 'finest replacement' have no sense of punctuality?

I straightened my posture as I saw a team of forensics part through the slight crowd of guards and orderlies. They flashed badges and the guards let them through the cell door to view and photograph the scene to their hearts content...Why was my presence required for such tedious tasks?

"Dr. Crane, we're all very sorry about this last minute scuffle but we've brought our replacement," one of the badged members said with an expression mixing both grim and assuring in only a way a policeman would manage.

A deathly pale woman of average height with short, feathered gold brown hair approached with a calculating gaze, sharp behind her thin, black rimmed glasses. She might have been just another face if not for the odd black trench coat she wore which seemed to swallow her up.

I smiled tightly and cleared my throat, "It's a pleasure Dr..."

She flashed me a brief yet empty smile, "Ms. Revis, I'm not a doctor."

I raised my eyebrows to convey my surprise but quickly lowered them so as not to insult her. The policeman spoke once more, "I assure you Ms. Revis is the best in the field, well she would be if she was in the field..." he trailed off the smiled brightly at her, "Come now Revis, there's work to be done—Hey, where'd she go?"

I blinked, hadn't he seen her walk in front of him to enter the room? Stifling laughter I walked into the room myself and watched as the observation took place. The small crew was crammed into the cell, taking pictures, and talking quietly among themselves but my interest lied in the replacement pathologist.

She at first froze and seemed unable to move...what was wrong with the world? Was everyone incompetent at their job? Whatever gave her pause she soon recovered and kneeled near the body already putting on plastic gloves.

Without even touching the body her eyes quickly scanned the loon's position as she spoke to me, "What relation did you have with the patient?"

I cleared my throat once more but she didn't spare me a glance, "I was his psychiatrist."

She didn't seem to respond and instead shuffled forward gingerly touching the body here and there, seemingly immune to the black tongue that peeked out from behind a stiffened jaw while a slightly frothy concoction dribbled off the corner of his mouth.

Standing she looked down at the dead crazie before looking at me sharply, "When did you find the patient?"

I met her gaze readily enough, "I was informed by an orderly earlier today around eight o'clock."

She didn't blink, "If I may be frank why would a patient already restrained by a straightjacket be placed in a confined room with restraints already available yet retain his bindings?"

I noted how her voice wavered while she spoke of straightjackets...interesting.

"The patient had missed his medication causing him to slip into a rage. The patient was restrained and sedated then moved to an safe environment."

She tilted her head to the side, "Are most violent patients so carelessly restrained around volatile surroundings?"

I raised an eyebrow, "As you can see there is very little to cause a patient accidental harm."

She glanced back to the dead man who had managed to tie his sleeves around a restraint on the bed and hang himself, "Apparently intentional harm is found readily enough..."

I frowned about to reply when one of the forensics spoke, "Hey Revis, you ready to move the Vic to the morgue?"

She nodded and easily untied the crazie's sleeves, carefully catching the now limp body. With practiced ease she lifted the body onto a waiting gurney and in a body bag.

I was about to leave when she spoke once more, "If you would Dr. Crane, I would like to ask a few more questions."

I nodded easily, "Very well, I'll arrange-"

She flashed another hollow smile, "That's not necessary, the morgue will suffice."

I straightened out my posture and nodded compliantly waiting for the useless conversation that was sure to follow.

While walking to the morgue I couldn't help but analyze her. After all boredom and psychiatric training did not mix well. Her gaze was sharp but resigned just as her posture was constantly changing between tall and turned in. She hadn't asked to shake my hand or make any small talk aside from a few questions. From just this and her habit of constantly flashing false smiles I could tell she was either socially awkward or deeply disturbed by her surroundings, maybe even the situation...but was she scared? No, now wasn't the time to think about my real work.

"Are you alright? You seem a bit distracted, Ms. Revis?" I asked as she unconsciously slowed her pace as she look around discretely.

She jumped a little, "Oh, I'm fine I assure you," another fake smile, "This is my first time being inside such a facility."

I nodded, "Well there's nothing too interesting about these walls unlike those within them."

She was silent and continued on her way...yes definitely socially awkward.

The temperature dropped as we arrived at the medical wing of the asylum. The floor continued to slope as we passed by nurses and other stations to enter the morgue. Instantly her behavior changed. Without so much as a glance to me she strolled in with a straight back and immediately removed her oversized trench coat which she folded onto the bottom shelf of the gurney. Underneath her trench coat she wore dark, nondescript clothing which only contrasted against her already pale skin. She quickly cleaned the metal surface of the examination table then began to unzip the body bag and transfer the body to the examination table. For a moment I thought she had forgotten me before she spoke without looking up, "Is there a single model for the straightjackets Arkham uses?"

I found myself a bit put off. How was I, the head psychiatrist and leading power of the staff, supposed to know the technicalities of straightjackets?

"I am unaware of every model; however, I do know that most our straightjackets are standard issue. Perhaps the archives would better your inquiries. After all there is nothing more certain than death and taxes."

She didn't give me a second thought as she gingerly turned the crazie over.

"If you would Dr. Crane," she motioned toward herself and I stepped closer, "Why would a patient take the trouble of loosening these bindings to free his arms then chew off the stitched closing of his sleeves to hang himself when taking off the straightjacket and then making a suitable ligature would be simpler with less effort on time?"

I raised an eyebrow, they were crazy what did rationality matter?

"The whims of a suicidal patient-"

"Suicidal patient?" she cut me off, "I've been given an overview of the patient before arriving. He suffered from an extreme bi-polar disorder and was considered dangerous but definitely not suicidal. What I attempting to allude to earlier, Dr. Crane, was the lack of time the patient felt he possessed. Even within rages there's no indication of delusion or panic merely misplaced or exaggerated anger which wouldn't cause the patient to attempt escape through death. Furthermore," she had been taking measurements of the buckles and lengths while talking but now she swiftly unbuckled each fastening with ease and gently lifted the shirt to reveal several buckle shaped bruises, "straightjackets, while causing harm usually found with muscle pain or swollen elbows due to the pooling of blood if used for prolonged periods of time are meant to peacefully restrain patients. The bruises here are a sign of careless restraint, even in times of rages these bruises would not appear unless the straightjacket itself had been tightened to such an extent not only recently but frequently."

She looked up at me sharply with blue gold eyes before gently lowering the dead nutter and gingerly pulled back the long sleeves used as an impromptu noose.

"Ms. Revis, surely you've heard of hypostasis, the blood may have collected in the form of the buckles from-"

She abruptly looked up to fix me with a deep look, "Dr. Crane, I would advise you not to make assumptions about my patient, hypostasis had already taken effect," she let go of the sleeves and moved to the legs which she revealed to be seemingly heavily laden with bruises, "here as the blood collected to the bottom of the body," she replaced the leg and returned to the sleeves, "As you may recall the man was lying mostly on the floor in what is known as partial hanging, leaving his upper body extremely pale. The fact that the impressions on his back still retain a bruising colour consistent with the buckles of the straightjacket show mistreatment and allude to brutality among patients from their supposed care givers."

Before she was taking measurements around the sleeves and making small notes on a piece of paper but now she began removing the clothes from his body, which became difficult as the body seemed stiff.

"Your patient?" I asked trying to distance the conversation from her accusation.

She nodded, "Time of death approximately 0345, the moment he died he fell under my jurisdiction."

Odd...

"Pardon me for my ignorance but I believe you aren't a part of the forensics team, Ms. Revis."

She looked up at me while carefully folding the straightjacket, "I work with the dead, why would I waste time I could have otherwise used to do my job, for a certified piece of paper to vouch for my skills? I know as much if not more than the usual team of certified forensic pathologists but I don't need a piece of paper to tell me as much."

My my what a witty, eccentric woman indeed...

"While that may be the case, Ms. Revis I am only referring to the fact that any uncertified work would be considered invalid within the state."

She smiled once more, a chilling smile, "Unless the work is supervised by a certified forensic pathologist which it is."

I was about to argue when I noticed one of the nervous looking assistants in a corner of the morgue watching meekly. Well—

"Even if my work was deemed invalid there's more than enough information to cast a full fledged investigation over Arkham."

I cleared my throat, "An investigation?"

She smiled once more, "Numerous speculations and accusations have been brought to the state's attention about the facility here. While my work would act as a valuable asset, the investigation is already underway with plenty of valid resources."

So she was the metaphorical cherry on top...Well I'd like to have my cake and eat it. I didn't spend my life working until this point to have some stiff lipped lawyers and county officials look into matters that are far beyond their comprehension...As she said she was just the icing atop the cake, there would be no need to strike against her although her arrogant behavior needed to be kept in line should we ever meet again—

There was a small beeping which was quickly identifiable as my pager. I lifted the small device and smiled tightly. Looking up to Revis who had sufficiently stripped and respectively covered the dead nutter and now held a scalpel, I spoke, "I'm afraid I have a pressing appointment to attend, perhaps another time, Ms. Revis?"

She looked calm enough although I saw some tension within her shoulders as she replied, "As I've said before I am not a member of the field. If you wish to speak to someone about the investigation—"

"And what if I intend to speak to you, Ms. Revis?"

She cocked her head, "Whatever for, Dr. Crane? The only relating factor between us is the patient whom I intend to see to exclusively. If you have any questions about the patient you may contact me at the local Gotham funeral parlor, if not I have no further business to conduct with you."

Cold and to the point, I daresay she's becoming a threat.

"Very well, I know where to find you."

She gave me a mistrusting look and I felt her gaze on me as I left the room. Yes, I believe I shall be calling on you very soon Ms. Revis. You're far too knowledgeable for your own well being.

…Later That Day...

"Hello Jonathan," a stuffy member of the staff said as she walked toward me while I was pouring myself a cheap cup of coffee in the staff lounge.

I nodded my head in acknowledgment but remained silent.

Another shark darted in, this time the head of security, "How you faring Doctor? Heard you met Revis, ah she's a real catch."

How unfortunate, it seems I'll have no choice but to engage in some joke of a conversation with these incompetent fools.

"Ms. Revis seemed very devoted to her work, Mr. Cedar—" I began.

The man cut me off by laughing, he was quite red in the face before he was through, "Oh I didn't mean that kinda catch, Doctor. She's like a rabid dog with a fresh pile o' meat. Whenever she gets called in for a case that the state can't take she won't let go of the poor bugger."

The stuffy staff member, was Mrs. Carol the name (?) spoke up, "Now now Mr. Cedar, such dedication to justice—"

He laughed again, "Mark my words, somethin's not right about 'er. Looks like one of 'em vampires or ghosts. Hear she'll only work graveyard shifts," he broke off to chuckle, "only appropriate if you ask me."

Mrs. Carol (?) cut him off before he put his other foot in his mouth, "I only hope that dreadful case is closed soon enough. Did you hear there's an investigation going on at the Asylum? Here? Of all places!"

I smiled tightly eager to leave the blubbering fools to their own folly, "In the end, peace will be kept. Now, forgive me for my manners but I'm a bit behind on paperwork and I must be leaving."

"G'night Doctor, watch out for 'em crazies...somethin's got 'em all riled up," Mr. Cedar said shaking his head, "Mark my words, it's that chit Revis...she's no one's good news."

"Mr. Cedar, please do refrain from talking about the patients in such a way—"

Without giving them a chance to continue I quickly walked away but I was unable to leave before overhearing the new topic.

Mrs. Carol's (?) shrill voice all but stage whispered, "Did you notice how ragged poor Jonathan looked? I swear all that time he spends out in his office isn't healthy for the man."

"Ah yer worrying too much, that bloke's just a backward fellow. He's doin' no one 'arm but 'imself."

I clenched my jaw...even now as I wore the finest suits, acted with impeccable manners, handled whatever dreary cases were sent my way, and still I was treated poorly...Oh yes peace will be kept, for in the end there will be no one left in my way to deter my research or ever make a fool out of me again.