Arkham

(Jonathan's Point of View)

"No more favors. Someone is sniffing around," I said referring to the woman that was in the courtroom while I was getting Mr. Zsasz out of prison-time.

"Hey, I scratch your back, you scratch mine, doc. I'm bringing in the shipments."

"We're paying you for that." I was getting irritated with Falcone's lack of cooperation.

"Maybe money isn't as interesting to me as favors." This man just won't get the point cross.

"I am more than aware that you are not intimidated by me, Mr. Falcone. But, you know who I'm working for. And when he gets here..."

"...He, he's coming to Gotham?" Now I've got his attention. He may not fear me, but he fears Ra's al Ghul.

"Yes, he is. And when he gets here, he's not going to want to hear how you've endangered our operation just to get your thugs out of a little jail-time."

"So who's bothering you?"

"There's a woman at the D.A's office."

"We'll buy her off." That seems to be his answer for everything that doesn't go smoothly with him. Dawes can't be bought.

"Not this one."

"Oh, idealist... Well there's an answer for that too."

"I don't want to know."

"Yes you do...."

Falcone talked about how he planned to get rid of Dawes, the same way he got rid of Eddy Waverly.

"So how's your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend and I released her from Arkham to come stay with me. Shes back at the apartment right now. She's going to help me with the operation."

"Are you sure you're not the one endangering this operation by involving this girl? She is your patient after all."

"I have total control of the situation. Myca will help us. Shes so infatuated with me that she'll do anything I say without question. She owes it to me since I granted her freedom and gave her a place to live. I have power over her."

(Myca's Point of View)

After I showered, I walk over the Jon's dresser to see what I can wear. All I see are sweater vests, white button down shirts, socks, and boxers. The clothes he gave me at Arkham can't be his. He doesn't have anything that even looks like he would wear such things. I decide to wear the black t-shirt and jeans he gave to me.

"I look around to see what there is to do. I don't see a television, just piles of books and papers. I pick up a book in his bedroom thats titles; 'Schizophrenia' by Daniel R. Weinberger and Paul Harrison. I opened the book and began to read it.

This book so far tells me about the new research breakthroughs regarding to people who are diagnosed with schizophrenia. It shows the new advances on medication and controversies on new and old therapies to treat schizophrenia. I close the book and start a new one.

I picked up another book on how to treat Schizophrenia. Why would Jon need a book like this? He has to be sane to run an asylum and treat patients. I put down the book. I lay on the bed and my mind just swirled on the idea of Jon being mentally unfit. If it were true, I wouldn't be surprised honestly. I know you have to be mentally stable to be a psychiatrist, but working in an asylum could get the better of you. Jon seems like a mentally stable man with a few exceptions, but I've been wrong before.

I hear the door unlock and the lights turned on.

"Myca? Are you still here?"

"You told me not to go anywhere when you're not home."

"At least you were a good girl. So what have you been doing while I was away?"

"I was reading. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"There was a book I found on how to treat schizophrenia. Why do you have it?"

"I happen to be a psychiatrist, so I need books like that so I know how to treat patients how have been diagnosed with it."

"But isn't that what you learned in school?"

"Its just a refresher. So is there anything you'd like to do? Anywhere you want to go?"

"I just want to sit here and talk." Jon then removed his glasses, set down his briefcase, and took off his jacket.

"About what," he asked as he was loosening his tie.

"About you. Where you went to school, what you did when you were a teenager and so forth."

"Why on Earth would you want to know about that?" He said as if I was invading in his privacy.

"I want to know more about you. But, if its too personal, then you don't have to tell me, We can talk about something else." Jon sat down on the bed and held my hand.

"I can tell you some things, but not everything. There are some things that shouldn't be said." He opened his mouth, but nothing was coming out.

"Just tell me, Jon. I won't judge you in the slightest."

"Alright. In school, I was bullied a lot for being pale, skinny, and a bookworm. I was bullied by a man named Bo Griggs and his jock friends. The made fun of me for looking like Ichabod Crane from Legends of Sleepy Hollow. In high school, I had a crush on a cheerleader named Sherry Squires. She of course rejected me....." I held onto Jon's hand tighter.

"She's an idiot. She doesn't know what a great guy you are."

"Was."

"What?"

"Was. Sherry has been dead since senior prom."

"What happened?" Jon's lips twitched slightly and he bowed his head.

"I don't know if I should tell you."

"You can tell me. I won't tell a soul, Jon." He then got off the bed and leaned his back against the wall.

"I killed her." The sympathizing look I had on my face turned blank and expressionless.

"Why?"

"I asked Sherry to be my date at a costume party, she agreed. When we got there, she led me to a dark room and Bo showed up in a Jack O'Latern mask like the man from Sleepy Hollow and started chasing me. He had a pumpkin which he threw and smashed on my head. After that night, I swore revenge on Bo and Sherry."

"What did you do?"

"At senior prom, I put on the Scarecrow mask and came with a gun. I waited in the parking lot for people to leave the prom to exact revenge for being humiliated at the party. I started shooting at the first sign of students entering the lot. My actions led to Griggs' car accident which paralyzed him from the waist down and caused Sherry to die. To this day, no one knows it was me. I never took my mask off. I'm sorry if I scared you or if you don't feel comfortable with me anymore. I understand completely."

I get off the bed and walked over to Jon. He looked at me like I was going to slap him, but I just hugged him.

"They drove you too far."

"Exactly."

"But that doesn't mean you should take the high road on this one. You killed a person, Jon."

"Two people."

"What?"

"When I was little, I had a religious grandmother. She always shoved her Christian ways down my throat, I was raised with that. She would scold me if I did anything she defined as ungodly. She would hit me with that fucking cane. I would have bruises and scars for months. She locked me in a church full of angry crows," Jon said in anger looking out in the distance, having a flashback I suppose.

"What happened to her, Jon?"

"I murdered her after I turned eighteen."

"What about your parents?"

"My mother never showed any affection toward me and my father left before I was even born. I found out many, many years ago that mother gave birth to a baby girl. I became envious and tried to kill her too." Jon's face just turned to stone. No expression, extremely cold. I didn't know how to comfort him. I wish I could tell him that life will get better, but I don't want to lie to him.

From what he's telling me, life just seems like one big cruel joke. My parents hate my guts now and my brother is frightened of me. I never heard from Eddy again. Life is just one big clusterfuck of disappointment and suffering. I now know the true meaning of the word 'suffer.' Jon has suffered greatly. I stare at the wall blankly, just thinking about how shitty life is.

"I told you way too much. Are you alright?"

"No. I just realized how cruel the world is. I should've known this when my parents told you they were going to let me rot in an asylum without trying to fight for my innocence."

"I see what you mean. But, from everything I told you, everything I ever did, do you still think I'm a great guy?"