Years had lapsed since he encountered the man who looked back at him through his reflection. With his hair cut short and his face neatly shaven, he looked a lot like the young Doctor Crane who had come to Gotham and taken up the post of Head Psychiatrist at Arkham.

The sharp beige suit, the persuasive blue eyes, and the decent features staring at him reminded him of a past he had tried so hard to leave behind. The only thing that left the puzzle incomplete was his spectacles. But he did not put them on, wishing to differentiate between his present self and the image of the past that haunted him in the mirror.

Much to his relief, the spectacles were not the only difference. His hair had greying streaks, and wrinkles slightly dented his skin, showing the impact of time and suffering.

He was not the young Jonathan Crane who got seeped into the quagmires of evil. He was the man who had crawled out of those dark pits of hell and intended to stay away from anything and everything that could lure him back to his past.

With that slight assurance seeping through his heart, he put the spectacles in his pocket and decided to leave.

After locking up his apartment and making sure that none of Miguel's kids were lying in wait to ambush him, he carefully descended those rickety steel and concrete stairs.

Miguel and Gloria were waiting for him in their car. They had offered to take him to the wedding venue despite his polite refusals.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he remarked, opening the backdoor of the car.

"No worries, we were also able to get out just now," Miguel replied.

However, a delighted squeal startled Jonathan, and he saw little Vinnie crawling up to her mother's shoulder to get a good look at the man in the backseat. Apparently, she had recognized him even without the specs and was trying to say something that sounded close to calling him Uncle Jon.

"We brought Vinnie along since the kids can't be trusted with her," Miguel answered the unspoken question, "Gloria told me they put her in the washing machine just the other day..."

"Yes, and if it hadn't been for Doctor Crane, who knows what would have happened to my little girl?" Gloria remarked. Then, turning to Jonathan, she added, "We owe you."

He felt slightly flustered but tried to ignore that queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "It was no bother and nothing to owe me for, truly."

"Well, I suppose we are blessed to have such a kind neighbor. Aren't we, Gloria?"

"Indeed."

They meant well, he reminded himself. Perhaps they were both just as awkward as he felt and were trying to mask it with a polite conversation.

Jonathan remained silent for the rest of the ride while Miguel and Gloria discussed trivial family matters. He easily tuned out their voices until the sound of their pleasantries blended into his familiar white noise.

Only when the venue loomed ahead did he realize the weight of his decision. He was attending a formal event—a wedding—for the first time in his life.

Despite years of practice over his expressions and demeanor, he felt anxious and knew he would stick out from the rest of the attendees like a sore thumb.

As they got out of the car, he stayed behind and let the Hansons walk in first. He could see he had just enough time to turn on his heel and walk away, abandoning the idea of intentionally attending a social event. His mind even encouraged him to leave. But his heart disagreed.

His heart wanted him to stay, and he wasn't sure whether it was a need to stick with a trialing decision and see the outcome or the sight of Charlize Fischer, who was pleasantly surprised to see him there.

She greeted the Hansons and noticed him standing awkwardly, so she approached him. Seeing her, he showed the invite at the reception desk, knowing it would be rude to turn and walk away.

As soon as he stepped in, Charlize stepped close to him, a genuinely appreciative smile on her lips.

"I'm so glad you came," she remarked. Her hand gently rested on his arm as she guided him away from the crowds of people that made him so nervous. "And I stand by my word. I'll drop you off at your place if you want to leave early. No questions asked."

"Uh... Thanks."

"No problem. Come now, the ceremony is about to start."

He stood beside Charlize as the ceremony started, his head and heart again on a tugging rope with one another. He was conscious of all the people around him, as he could never shake off the feeling of being judged. But more so, he felt conscious for Charlize's sake as he knew how fast rumors flew and didn't want her to face the brunt of it all.

The bride walked down the aisle, the vows were exchanged, and the officiant pronounced the couple man and wife. But for Jonathan, everything had blended into a pool of white noise.

Everything except Charlize's voice that shook him out of his aimless reverie shortly after.

"Jonathan, you look really handsome tonight," she complimented, and he could feel his face burn at those words. She said that so casually, and with her hand still gripping his arm, he had no option to go somewhere alone and recollect his thoughts.

He couldn't respond, and she only smiled, shaking her head as if catching him off guard wasn't her intention.

He wasn't used to compliments, especially those paid without any malice or ulterior motive concealed behind the words. Once again, he found himself wondering why she cared for him even though he had nothing to offer. 

He furtively stole a glance in her direction, his heart skipping a beat. In a deep purple dress that reached down to her knees and with her hair falling freely over her shoulders, she looked so different from the Doctor Fischer he was accustomed to seeing: the crisp and professional psychiatrist who always wore neutral shades and kept her hair tied in a bun or a braid.

She looked stunning, and he felt he didn't deserve to stand so close to her. He didn't want his presence to dim her radiance.

But it seemed Charlize thought the opposite. She was happy with his company and preferred staying with him rather than socializing with strangers. 

As if she could almost read his thoughts, she spoke up, "I find it easier to be with at least one person I know in a crowd full of strangers."

"Crowds bother me in general," he replied.

"I noticed," she remarked, but then, after a short pause, she added, "There's a park nearby. If you want, you can step out and clear your head. It will help."

He could take that suggestion, but as he considered it, he couldn't help but ask, "Will you come along?"

"If you want me to," she replied, a soft smile creasing her features.

"Please do," Jonathan let his heart win the tug of war again and gestured for her to lead the way, her hand still resting snugly in the crook of his elbow.

***