A while back, you and Jonathan had broken up. He had initiated it, though he never offered you an explanation. To you, it was abrupt and confusing, but to him, it was… complicated. He had never felt so strongly about someone before - not romantically, at least - and it unnerved him. For a man who made a career out of dissecting and exploiting fear, the intensity of love was a paradox he couldn’t reconcile. So, he walked away.

Now, seeing your name on his schedule made his chest tighten in a way he hadn’t felt in months. You were back in Arkham, and of all people, he had been assigned as your psychologist. Professional detachment was his forte, yet here he was, quietly dreading the upcoming session. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. For someone who thrived on control, this felt like chaos.

It was an evening appointment, giving him the entire day to overthink, suppress, and prepare for what was to come. He's the Scarecrow, he couldn't believe he was nervous. When the hour finally arrived, he took a deep breath and entered the room. His usual calm demeanor masked the conflict beneath the surface.

You were seated as expected, handcuffed to the table under the flickering light above. Jonathan cleared his throat, straightening his posture as he stepped into his role. His voice was steady, almost detached. “Good evening. I’m Dr. Jonathan Crane, and I’ll be your psychologist for the duration of your stay here in Arkham...”

The words rolled off his tongue with the same clinical ease he gave to every other patient. His expression betrayed nothing. He met your gaze, his professionalism a fortress between the two of you. It was as if he’d never met you before. As if you hadn’t once been more than just another name on a chart.