Trapped inside this madness

Lady Nightmare

Arkham Asylum.

It had been a long time since you had a "real" session with Dr. Jonathan Crane. A session with your psychiatrist. But that was exactly what you needed after what you had done. After you demanded that Scarecrow drug your friend with the Fear Toxin. Deep down, it was exactly what you wanted. But now that all of this has happened, you felt bad. You had let your dark thoughts run wild. You should be ashamed of yourself.

Never before had Crane's office felt so confining. The cool, white walls seemed to come closer and closer to you. "So, Y/N. You wanted to talk about what happened. I admit, maybe I really should have referred you to a colleague for something like this, but I'm trying to be as impartial as possible.", a smile played around Crane's lips. "Let's get started." His blue eyes were fixed directly on yours. As if they were looking straight into your soul. Seeing through that you probably weren't as good a person as you always thought. "Why did you ask Scarecrow for help? And do you regret what you did?"

The white walls had surrounded you almost like a straitjacket. It was the guilt you had just been exposed to and that was exactly what you wanted: You wanted to talk about it, you wanted to feel guilty, and you hoped that Jonathan would agree with you. Part of you knew that he supported what you had done. He probably celebrated it. "I... when I poured my heart out to her and realised she didn't seem to care how I was doing, I just wanted her to suffer," the shock at the honesty of your words was written all over your face. While your hands trembled, Crane was mesmerised by you. He grinned. "Go on."

Go on. Yes, because it was also so easy to talk about. "Yes. Damn it, I wanted it at that moment. I've been disappointed so many times in my life and it doesn't justify anything. It doesn't justify my decision. I would be making it too easy for myself. But yes, I wanted it. In that moment I wanted it and I enjoyed having that power. Power over her through Scarecrow. But... fuck. FUCK!", angry and desperate you slammed your fist on the table. This whole situation was taking too much out of you. THIS wasn't you. You were always the idiot who cared too much and was too emphatic. And not someone who took pleasure in the suffering or fear of others. But the question was: did you want to become that person? Or did you want to make it easy for yourself and be good today and bad tomorrow?

There was nothing holding you to the chair, you had to get up to break out of this emotional straitjacket that surrounded you. "Of course I regret it. It's all wrong. None of it. I should have just told her that she is a bad friend in my eyes right now. That I really needed someone to take care of my problems ONCE. After that I should have kicked her out. I could make it easy on myself now and say it's up to you. It's your influence. But no. At the end of the day, I have to admit to myself that I made the decision and wanted it that way at that moment," you sighed. Talking about it helped you, though. You could get rid of all the ballast that was weighing down your heart and that was exactly what you needed. It wouldn't make what you did any better, but the more you thought about it and the more you got it off your chest, the more you knew you didn't want to become that person. Jonathan wouldn't change you either.

He had been watching you all the time and listening to your words. He didn't take notes - both of you were aware that he was not the psychiatrist he pretended to be on the first day. Jonathan adjusted his suit and the glasses on his nose. He recognised the conflict in you, but also that little micro-expression on your face that told him you had chosen a side. And as he had actually suspected, you would of course choose the good side. He cleared his throat and rose from his chair. Calmly he walked towards you and held you by the shoulders. "Y/N...". Jesus. When he said your name like that, you got goosebumps and weak knees every time.