Fear makes you predictable.
"Give me back my face!" Crane-Crow screams at the guard. "Looks like we're going to have to talk to your doctor about your dosage, Crazy Crane." the guard sneers. "I'm not crazy. He is. But I'm not crazy. That's not very nice, Jonathan. I've always taken care of you. Shut up. I'm talking."
"Yeah. Sure. Because that's how everyone has conversations with themselves. Now shut up in there. You're makin' us uncomfortable." the guard responds. "I'm not crazy. I have a disorder. At one point it was called split personality disorder. But then it got rebranded as Dissociative Identity Disorder. So you see, I'm not crazy. I have a disorder. It can be controlled. I just choose not to control it anymore."
"Whatever you say Doc." Jonathan reaches through the bars, so fast no one had time to react, and grabbed the guard's tie. "Wha- hey! Get him off me! Get him off!" Scarecrow cackles. "None of you seem to understand. I'm not locked in here with you. You're locked in here with *ME*!" Jonathan lets the guard go.
"Truly sorry about that. He's just bored. Our approved reading just isn't as stimulating for him as our experiments and notes from them,"
The guard nervously backs away. "We'll get out of here eventually. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe a few weeks from today. Tell me, have they located Ms. Richardson yet?" The guard just shakes his head slowly. "Dunno. And even if they had why would I tell you."
"Because she's behind you," the guard glances behind him nervously. "Ha ha. Made you look! What did I tell you about tormenting the poor guards! So sorry. Just ignore him. I do... mostly. Well that's rude. Should pay attention when I talk to you. No."
"You're not gettin' out any time soon, Crane."
"Ehhh... we'll see. Don't I have a session this afternoon? Plenty of things can happen between then and now. Or then and after."
"No. You won't be getting out... couldn't possibly..." Jonathan laughs dryly. "You don't sound so sure,".
"Excuse me, please stop tormenting my patient." Jonathan smiles. "Dr. Young. And how are you doing today? Coming to get me out of here?" Dr. Young turns to look at him. "Jonathan. I'm fine, thank you. As for you," She turns back to the guard, "I'll just let you go with a warning. Harassing patients will not be tolerated. I catch you again, and I will see to it that you're let go,"
"Yes ma'am, but you see he..."
"I won't take any excuses from any of you. Get caught bothering my patients again, and you'll be out on the street," Dr. Young says tersely. The guard walks away, muttering to himself. "She's coming for you this afternoon. Make sure you're ready." she whispers
Jonathan nods. "Are you ready for our appointment Dr. Crane?" Dr. Young says, speaking up. "Oh yes, Dr. Young. As ready as I'll ever be," Dr. Young motions for another guard to unlock Jonathan's cell. The guard, actually one of his men, loops cuffs around his wrists loosely. Then they make their way to Young's office.
"Your turn doctor! Tell me!" Jonathan slips his cuffs halfway to her office, a mist of toxin spraying over her. He reaches into a hole in the wall to retrieve his mask, slipping it on. "What do you see?"
