Dreamer (Unlikely friendship, unhealthy relationship, OC)

CH 2: Jonathan Crane POV

((Quick note: I'm writting him more as a comic book and animated series mash-up. No other persona for Scarecrow all the same person. I kinda wanna experimemt with 1st person POV...not sure why...not sure if I'll stick to that option going forward. Also yay sleep deprived inspiration writtings. ))

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Fresh meat. What a dull expression. My eyes peaked over the edges of Poe's collected works (the version they had provided me with included notes and insights by an insufferable literary professor, its own form of punishment for my social misbehavior and incarceration), at the newest inmate. Matted ginger locks and a young face, barely eighteen if I were to guess. The poor child was clearly out of her debth, a guppy surrounded by sharks scarecely did the scene justice as an apt metaphore. Particularly given the Joker was already quite literally prodding and examining the youth while Harley pretended not care. 

"Don't tell me you're going it alone, here of all places!" The girl gave the clown a vacant smile and tollerated the way he posed and repositioned her. 
"What else would you suggest?" She inquired, earning a laugh from the prince of crime,
"What a sweet girl. Isn't she just darling, Harles?" Harley took the invitation to quickly rest her head on Jokers shoulder and offer a mad smile at the kid.
"Jus' darlin puddin'." Harley agreed. 
"You could come with us, you know." He offered. 
"I scarecely know you-" Jervis Tetch interupted the girl to quote,
"I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, sir, because-" the girl picked up the que and finished,
"I'm not myself, you see." Terrible idea. She should not have done anything to attract the attention of a man like Jervis, let alone done anything to keep it. 

"Or perhaps our Alice is better off with the Hatter?" Harley was all too glad to offer the girl's head on a silver platter. The girl removed the Joker's arm from her shoulder and ducked under it with grace. 
"I can make my own choices, thank you." Her eyes swept over the room, which was my que to press my nose back into my book. No. Don't bother. Don't talk to me. Not interested. My unspoken body language should make it perfectly clear. She'll do well to go get murdered by Hatter. Or driven mad by Edward's riddles and ensnared by his charms and smooth looks. Or...I felt rather than saw the child standing in front of me. Perhaps if I ignored her she would leave. No luck. Eventually I cleared my throat and glanced up to see a focused stare fixed on me. I gave back a sullen frown. 

"What are you doing?" A grin split her face and she leaned down even closer, nearly over the book I retracted from her reach. 
"I'm reading." She answered, gaining a raised brow from me. Reading....me? I couldn't help but smirk. 
"Alright. And what have you found?" She tilted her head with thought. 
"Is it safe to assume you deal with fear?" 
"An astute observation, even though they won't allow me my mask here. But then everyone in Gotham knows of the Scarecrow: Master of Fear. Do you have experience in the area yourself? That, at least, I'd have some interest in."  
"I'm not from Gotham." A yawn overtook her, she gave me the mercy of leaning backwards with it and restoring my personal space in the process. 

"There are only two kinds who weild fear as their primary tools. Those who delight in hurting others. And those who are tired of being hurt. Which one are you?" Shit. She didn't need a blade to slice, I felt that sink home in the center of my chest and steal my breath away. It took to the slow count of five to work my voice out past the pin in my chest that had pressed me to the insect board for display. I managed to sound more confident than I felt, anyways. Small victories. 
"Now now, a man doesn't kill and tell." I punctuated the sentence with a snap of my closing book, and forced my posture to reflect the poise I was so known for. Instead of being threatened she directed a dazzling smile at me.

"Well it doesn't matter. This is only a dream anyways. So. Would you like to be friends?" Friends? Dreams? The poor thing belonged here after all. No matter the intelligent twinkle in her eyes or the quick assessments given, the sharp wit was dulled by the tinge of madness. 
"I have associates. I have dim-witted lackies. I have had students in the past." I answered honestly and without any emotion but mild annoyance. She stepped to the side with a dainty hop and scrambled up persistantly to the arm of the sofa. She perched there, every mannerism reminding me instantly of a bird. 
"Well now you could have a friend, if you like. And when my powers return, I'll get us both out of here." Her posture was relaxed, her head twisted to look up out the bared windows so high above us. It was my turn to tilt my head in unconcious reveal of my consideration. 

What a peculiar girl. Was this some kind of joke set up by the Joker himself perhaps? What was the waiting punch line? Well, then again, what do I have to fear? If the girl is as delusional as she seems she would prove easy to control. And if what she says about powers and impending freedom rings true, then I stand to lose nothing but might yet gain much. 

"Very well. Friends. I'm Professor Jonathan Crane, also known as the Scarecrow." 
"They call me Dreamer." 
"Of course they do. I may not be the most exhilerating of company out of our montley little crew known as the rogues gallery, but at least with me there shall be no shortage of books. Do you read?" I held out the book and she eyed it.
"Oh, I can't. Books in dreams, the words get all jumbled or jump off the pages...whole libraries slipped through my grasp!" 

I couldn't help but smile, pressing the book towards her with more persistence. 
"Then this shall be an enlightening experience. Here. Read." Her brow furrowed, but she took the offering. 
"Alright. But don't blame me if it wakes me up and I disappear..." She took a deep breath. Opened to a page at random. Began reading. Soon her eyes jumped to the second page. And oh, the absolute delight of watching her. The girl was so expressive, so animated. I watched the minute tremble that began in her fingertips and slowly worked its way up her arm. Watched her face slip slowly from nuetral resolve into mounting terror. She flipped the page and skimmed them. Again. Again. Her chest rising and falling in shorter bursts. Until at last she glanced up past the book at me with realization. She looked around the room with fresh eyes. This time her words were barely a whisper. 

"I'm not...shit." 
"Indeed. Welcome back to reality, little Dreamer. What shall I call you now?" She pressed the open book to her chest in want for a safety blanket and worried at her bottom lip in thought. My clear amusement did little to warn her away it would seem. 
"Well...I guess what ever you like. I don't have any other names." I reached out and plucked the book from her hands.
"Naming things is quite the honor for academics. Though none of value come to mind yet. I'll call you Bird for now." 
"Chirp chirp..." She wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as earlier. Reality can be a hard pill to swallow. 

Speaking of pills, Hatter hadn't lost interest after all. I frowned as the man saw fit to insert himself into our conversation. 
"Bird? Now that's hardly a name at all for such a beauty. Really, March Hare, you ought to know Alice when you see her. Isn't that right, my dear?" She gave him the same calculated look she had me, and a shade of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 
"I think our sleepy new friend is more of a doormouse." I did my best to quickly snuff out the idea, and for her part Bird said nothing.

Before Hatter had a chance to respond, the bell rang to signal time in the rec room was over. We each of us stood to shuffle into line. On the way I slid the book into Bird's hands, but she glared at me and stuck out her tongue, earning a chuckle and response,
"Now now, none of that. One must keep their minds engaged when imprisoned." She shrugged,
"Won't be here long." She said it with so much certainty, I found myself believing her. As we were all led back to our cells.