Sorry not sorry, my lovely readers.

This chapter is the reason I wrote the entire AU in the first place.

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Arkham was as desolate as usual when Charlize stepped in through the main gates, but there was an air of something sinister brewing within those stone walls. A chill ran down her spine as she approached the reception desk, her eyes wandering to the tons of unpacked boxes in the hall.

"Mister Hanson?" She called out softly, and the receptionist, who had dozed off on his desk, sat up startled.

"I'm sorry, yes?" He straightened, rubbing his eyes to look at her closely. "Oh... Doctor Thorne?"

He looked thoroughly fatigued, and it reminded her of the last time she had seen Jonathan, with similar dark rings and a disinterested expression. Something in Arkham was leeching out the life from its employees, she thought. What could that be?

"How can I help you?"

Miguel's voice shook her out of the speculation and she asked, "Is there any chance I can meet Doctor Crane today?"

He paused, his face growing paler, "Is it urgent?"

"Why, yes."

The man did not seem eager to tell Jonathan that she was there. Little did she know, he was doing so for her own benefit.

By then, Miguel had gotten well aware of Jonathan's unpredictable mood swings. Even though he didn't know about Scarecrow being an alter, he did know that his boss was rather mean and volatile those days.

It was better if Charlize did not see him like that.

"Ah, he's extremely busy," Miguel checked the schedule, not wanting her to feel that he was intentionally putting her off. "Why don't you come back some other time? Let me check... Next week?"

She paused, her lips pursing into a thin line. The man was lying, she could tell. But before she could confront him about it, a familiar voice interrupted.

"Doctor Thorne, just the person I was hoping to see!"

They spun around to see Jonathan Crane emerging from the elevator, his hair somewhat disheveled and his fingers busy cleaning the dust off his spectacles.

It seemed he had just come up from his lab.

"Miguel, why didn't you tell me she was here earlier?" He remarked and even though Miguel felt embarrassed, he was still worried.

Jonathan was weirdly excited to see her, even though he had been yelling at the staff a while ago. Probably having another mood swing, he thought. Charlize shouldn't be with him in such a state.

His assumption was right as it wasn't Jonathan who held the charge but Scarecrow imitating him. 

For a second, Charlize also felt that something was wrong. He felt... Fake. Superficial. The way he held himself when he was interacting with other colleagues.

But then, Jonathan turned to face her, "Why don't you come into my office? I am glad you showed up. Now, I won't have to drink my tea alone."

However, before the two of them left, Miguel made one last attempt. "Doctor Thorne, you forgot something."

Charlize paused, coming back to the desk and Miguel shoved a little box in her hand, "You shouldn't go with him. He's not in the right state of mind."

She turned the box over, seeing it didn't belong to her, "Mister Hanson, what are you implying?"

But before he could warn her, Jonathan's crisp voice shook them again. "Is there a problem?"

"No, certainly not," Charlize replied, offering him a smile.

"Doctor Thorne, you must not..." But Miguel's voice trailed off, feeling an icy stare over him.

Jonathan's eye twitched, regarding him with suspicion as he spoke in a low tone, "Mister Hanson, your shift has ended. Go before I fire you."

The words were cold and they took Charlize aback too. But then she dismissed it, thinking he was just in a foul mood because he was tired. He would be back to normal soon.

At that threat, Miguel had to leave the asylum but he had a very bad feeling.

He felt Charlize Thorne wasn't safe right then with Jonathan and it was an odd feeling but he wanted to do something about it.

He was the sort of person who never took a side, who remained in the background and only looked for personal survival. If he stood up against Jonathan, he would be putting himself and his family at risk.

So to him, the only option left was to leave and hope that bad feeling in his heart was just a baseless superstition.

On the other hand, Jonathan led Charlize to his office, keeping a cool demeanor but simmering from within. Scarecrow had just gotten the opportunity in a lifetime and he couldn't waste it.

"You shouldn't have rebuked him so," Charlize remarked, thinking about the receptionist who had scurried off instantly after the warning. "He was just doing his job."

"My dear Charlize, I'd rather we not talk about other people. Do tell, what made you visit me at Arkham?"

She told him that she wanted to check up on him but he waved off her concern with a brush of his hand a light chuckle punctuating his words. "There was no need to. But I am glad you are here... Very glad."

Something was off, but she couldn't quite ascertain what it was.

Jonathan did not feel like himself.

As soon as they stepped inside the office, something changed. He closed the door and locked it, knowing that the asylum was otherwise empty.

"Jonathan... Why did you lock the door?" She asked, slightly cautious of him by then.

"Why not? Can I not lock my own office?"

She paused, her eyes sweeping over him. He was not drunk, at least, he did not look so. He couldn't be high... But something about him was clearly unnerving.

Perhaps Miguel was right and he wasn't in his usual state of mind.

"Come, come, sit," he held her arms, guiding her to a seat but she froze. "What happened? Why are you so still?"

An instinctive sense of self preservation settled in her heart, urging her to leave. "I... I need to go. I will come back some other time. Sorry I disturbed you."

"But you just came here," he resumed, coming to stand in front of her but his hands still held her arms and his eyes had a disturbing glint to them and he leaned closer, his breath fanning down on her neck. "I would hate for you to leave so soon..."

"Jonathan, let me go, please." Her voice was guarded but gentle, however she was internally starting to freak out.

He was somehow more aggressive than usual, hands roughly locked onto her arms instead of the gentle grip she was accustomed to. His eyes, that same beautiful blue that she so adored, felt distant and cold as if he was physically there but mentally miles away, out of reach.

"Jonathan?" She mumbled, her hands shakily coming up to rest on his chest.

"Tell me, why don't you let him go?" Even the voice was distorting—unfamiliar and scratchy—as he pushed her back against the wall, blocking her only way of exit, "Why?"

"Who? Who are you talking about?" She asked, confusion evident on her face.

She tried to squirm out of his grip but he kept her pinned, those blazing eyes alarming her. It was almost as if she didn't know the man in front of her and it seemed as if he couldn't recognize her either.

Otherwise, he would never have gripped her so harshly. He would never have talked to her in such a rough tone. He would have listened... Instead, she could feel his hands leave red prints against her skin but despite her protests, he didn't release her.

It seemed that with every passing minute, he was getting angrier and more unstable.

"He loves you... Why the hell does he love you!" His calm voice had transitioned abruptly into a frantic yell that was very unlike Jonathan—the crazed eyes and the relentless grip felt completely alien. "You're just another woman... No one special... What is it about you that he is willing to abandon our plan and join you instead? Why!"

It wasn't him and yet it couldn't be anyone else. 

Either her mind was playing tricks on her or something was extremely wrong with Jonathan as he failed to recognize her and continued throwing his instantly flared up rage at her.

She had never seen him so volatile before.

"Why the hell are you so fucking important to him! Why? Answer me!" He slammed her into the wall in frustration and her vision blurred, pain shooting up her back.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," her eyes welled up in tears to see him so outraged, "Jonathan, please... You're hurting me. Stop..."

"No, you're hurting him! You are ruining Jonathan, don't you see it, woman? You have made him weak... Weak!"

The words failed to register in her head, her confusion only increasing by every passing minute.

"What do you mean? I can't understand what's going on... Why are you being so... So rough...?" Her breath hitched in her throat and for the first time, terror gripped Charlize, looking upon the man she loved. 

It was no nightmare—something evil had taken over him completely. It seemed as if he was possessed by some other entity, talking through him and making him hurt her.

"Because I am NOT Jonathan!" The voice roared at her, making her flinch.

She was shaking by then, her eyes wide as she asked in a trembling voice, "If... If you're not Jonathan, then... Then who are you?"

"Scarecrow," the word escaped his lips, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

"Wh-where's Jonathan?" 

By then, she had realized that he was not possessed. Scarecrow could be an alter if Jonathan suffered from DID. But he had never told her that so she never considered the possibility earlier.

"He's unable to be in control right now. And that is extremely awful for you, Doctor Thorne," the grip tightened, making her whimper in pain, "What a shame... Jonathan never told you about me? He also never told you how much I hate you? How much I want you out of his life? Shame..."

"Please... Let me go..." Charlize was looking around for an escape but to no avail.

"Let you go? So soon? Sorry, Doctor, but that is impossible."

"Please..." Tears welled up in her eyes, still unable to process the situation fully. 

But his grip only tightened and she felt if he held her any tighter, the mark of his hands would be etched in deep bruises over her arms. 

"I have waited so long for this moment," the sadistic grin and the cold blue eyes made him look no less than a predator with his helpless prey in grasp. "So, tell me, Charlize... What is it that you fear most?"

The way he said her name was horrifying, uttering each syllable out as if voicing out the name of his next victim. It didn't sound like the way Jonathan said her name, it didn't sound like him at all because it wasn't him.

"Ah I see, you are already living your worst fear," he resumed, observing her closely, "Pistanthrophobia, is it? You avoid trusting people close to you because you fear you will end up hurt due to them. How ironic..."

Her heartbeat raced and her breathing was uneven, the symptoms of someone tasting pure fear. In that moment, even without using the fear toxin, he could see her be afraid of him and it gave him a twisted sense of power.

"I guess I see now why he adores you... You look pretty when you're scared," he remarked, twisting a loose strand of her hair between his fingers, relishing the frightened gasp that escaped her.

But even in that state of intense fear, some part of her screamed at her to do something, anything, to bring Jonathan back in control.

If Scarecrow was an alter then there had to be something that could trigger the switch. She had to try and find that switch, making him transition back into the host personality.

"Jonathan... Listen to me," her hands trembled and she wanted nothing more than to run for her life and never look back. But she cupped his face, making him look into her teary eyes, "You must wake up. Right now. Wake up..."

"You must stop talking," he hissed, his hand closing onto her jaw tightly, trying to clamp it shut. "He's not going to listen to you and it's better if he is dormant until I am done with you!"

"No... No... Jonathan Crane, I want you to wake up. Look at me, you must wake up!" Her voice rose despite herself, knowing it was the only option she had to either trigger the switch or get someone to come to the office and save her from him. "Jonathan, Jonathan, Jonathan..."

She shook him, repeating his name, thinking that perhaps the repetition would be able to reach him somewhere in there in his subconscious where he had retreated after Scarecrow took charge.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Scarecrow screeched, knowing at that rate, she might end up triggering the switch. He tried to block out the voice, to ignore listening to her but couldn't.

Deep inside, Jonathan was struggling, hearing a distant voice calling out for him. Scarecrow could also feel him starting to wake up and he knew he had very little time left.

Grabbing her by the arms, he slammed her so hard into the wall that she was no longer able to speak. A patch of red appeared at the wall behind her where her head had struck and dark spots covered her vision.

His head was splitting with pain by then as he let her go, not caring that she slid to the floor in a lifeless heap. Somehow, her voice calling for Jonathan was still ringing in his head, driving him feral, almost close to banging his head in the wall too.

It prevented Scarecrow from staying in control and he sank to the floor as well, holding his throbbing head.

When he opened his eyes after the clamor in his head died out, those irises weren't crazed and power hungry. It was Jonathan who had finally woken up.

But the sight that met his eyes shocked him to the core.

"Charlize!"

He rushed to her, cradling her limp form in his arms. His eyes swept over her, stopping on the bruises on her arms and the blood that stained the wall.

"Oh no... God, no... What have I done?"

An intense fear gripped him as he held her, realizing that she must have encountered the Scarecrow instead of him and the deadly alter had taken advantage of the fact by hurting her.

"Charlize, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," he turned her over, getting more anxious to see his hand under her head smeared crimson.

He had to take her to the hospital. 

Guilt and frustration weighed him down but her life was his foremost priority. So lifting her up in his arms, he stood up, rushing outside to the place where he had parked his car.

He would deal with Scarecrow later. First, he had to make sure that she recovered from the mess his alter had left her in.

***

The only sound reverberating in the glaring white hospital room was the faint beeping of the heart rate monitor. 

Charlize was unconscious, connected to different machines that were keeping her stable. On a chair close to her bed lay Jonathan's blazer, its sleeve tainted red as he had carried her there, her injured head resting on his arm.

Jonathan himself was standing close to the bed, yearning to reach out to her but terrified of the outcome.

It was all his fault, the thought surfaced repeatedly in his head. But he kept himself calm on the outside because he did not want to be kicked out by the doctors. 

He didn't even remember what he told them about the cause of her injury, and whether it was believable or not. All he knew was that she needed immediate care and he would get it to her even if he had to kill someone for it.

He was restless and hadn't left her side since. Soon as she had been shifted to the private room from intensive care, he stayed close to her, hoping she would wake up.

However, she remained unconscious for almost the whole night.

Her hands were lifeless in Jonathan's shaky ones and her pulse was faint. Even though he should have left the second he got her to the hospital, he found his feet rooted next to her. 

He was kneeling by the bed, helpless and anxious. In that moment, he didn't care if Gotham tore itself apart or not. He didn't care if the Demon Head killed him for not fulfilling his end of the bargain and he certainly didn't care if Batman caught up to him after all.

The only thing he cared about was her.

Something wet ran down his cheek, startling him. Still holding her hand in his, he lifted his other hand to wipe at his face, shocked to see that the wetness was due to tears.

The tightness in his chest, the tears rolling down his face that was white as a sheet, and his shivering hands, all pointed in one direction. 

He loved her and yet she had gotten hurt so terribly due to him, just like he always feared she would.

"Oh come on, it's not like she's dead... Yet."

He ignored the menacing voice in his head, resting his head on her hand. The tears didn't stop and the guilt also increased with every passing minute.

"I knew if I killed her, you would go ballistic. And then you would have ruined what's left of our grand plan... Shame."

"Shut the fuck up," he hissed, trying to drive out that voice from his mind.

"It was just one concussion, Jonathan. You, on the other hand, are risking a full blown nervous breakdown right now," Scarecrow resumed unaffectedly. "And if you dare back off from your responsibilities, that maniac of a Demon Head would kill us. So stop moping around and get to work!"

He didn't move, his eyes glued to her unconscious form. "No... Not until I know she's going to be okay... Not until she wakes up."

"Oh, she will wake up, all right. She's breathing, isn't she? But we won't be if we keep stalling here."

Jonathan refused to budge, his fingers gently caressing her knuckles, praying for her to be okay.

"Besides, do you even want to be here when she wakes up?" The menacing alter jeered, cackling at his helplessness. "She will be terrified of you, she will scream for help. She will most likely turn you in to the authorities. Do you want to stay here, Jonny boy, and watch that happen to yourself? Or would you run like the coward you are, leaving me in control..."

His jaw tightened, considering that possibility. True, if he stayed beside her and she woke up, it would only complicate things further. No matter how much he hated it, it was better if he left and stayed as far away from her as possible.

"Now, you're finally letting your brain work. Come on, get moving. We have tons of work to do."

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand, his fingers brushing over her knuckles one last time. He paused yet again before leaving, his heart bleeding from the pain to see her like that and knowing that he was responsible for it.

Torn between the conflict, he bent down, his lips gently placing a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry, Charlize... Please recover soon... Please..."

"That's enough now. We have to leave!" Scarecrow hissed, shaking him out of the emotions that gripped him.

Charlize stirred, feeling a ghostly kiss on her forehead as she gradually awoke from her slumber.

But when she opened her eyes at last and looked around, she was all alone in a hospital room. Her head was wrapped in a bandage and numb with medication, she felt extremely lethargic, and even though she expected to see Jonathan there, he was not with her.

Her hand twitched, feeling slightly damp and she could still recall the very familiar feeling of his lips on her skin and his fingers on her knuckles.

He had been there with her.

But now, he was gone.

Possibly forever.

***

So we're at the final climax of Batman Begins plotline. Things are going to go out with a bang and I simply can't wait to write it all.

This has been the longest AU version I have done of a fanfic so far but I have no regrets.

Let me know what you guys think about this chapter so far and I will hopefully update the next part soon.

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