Not My Diagnosis

I walked up the stone approach slowly, my scythe slung over my should, a leather bag in my other hand containing accompanying weaponry. I had left Nightmare at his stable as night had fallen and he needed to eat and sleep. It was a much father walk than I had anticipated, but it wasn't like I didn't have the time.

I stood in the cleared flat of what once was Wayne Manor and sighed, walking over debris and heading for the west wing. I sat down on the charred remains of a stone wall, setting my bag down. I exhaled slowly, then yawned, laying down and falling asleep.


~~*~~


I awoke as the sun passed over my face, wincing as I opened my eyes. "Not a good place to sleep, really," a soft and very familiar voice spoke. I looked around slowly and turned to Mr. Wayne standing to my left, hands in his pockets and he stared out thoughtfully at his flat.

"Well, after both of our places burned down, I've had no where else, except Nightmare's stable, and I would rather not."

"I'm surprised you haven't frozen to death. You can't stay in Arkham? And both of them were technically your fault."

"Arkham is one of the last places I would stay, and I produce an abnormal amount of body heat."

"I know," he smiled as he turned to face me. I turned my head back forward as I sat up.

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

"Yes, but I spent the night looking for you and decided not to rest until I did. My fatigue eventually got to me and I retired to the basement, but I still didn't sleep. I came up here to work, hoping if I stopped looking you would find me and sure enough. I decided, though, to let you sleep... as a reward."

"Reward?"

"After last night."

I frowned and stood. "I'm not talking about that with you."

"You'll have to eventually. You can't run forever."

"I seem to have done well so far," I picked up my bag and started to walk away, but my wrist was snagged.

"I wasn't looking for you to fight. I wanted to know if you wanted to come sleep off the days with me." His eyes glistened with a tenderness I hadn't seen in some time and I stopped my attempt at fleeing.

"You have somewhere else in mind?"

"A lot better than this place for now." I put my hat on and threw the scythe over my shoulder. He smiled softly and stepped closer, putting an arm around my waist and walking me down the approach. He lead me to his... I'm actually not sure which car it was. It was silver and curved, but that was about the extent of my knowledge at the time. He opened the rear door and I unloaded my supplies, moving to the now opened front and sealing myself inside with the wing door. He sat down in the drivers seat and locked himself in, smiling over to me. I smiled in return and leaned against the door, staring out the window, my fatigue catching up with me.


~~*~~


I ran my fingers through my hair, extracting the water that had collected in it and, for the most part, brushing it out of my face. I stood there under the cold flow of water, it washing over my face and down to the waist deep pool. I heard a faint voice through the white noise and stepped out of it, turning to face Mr. Wayne who stood on the edge of the waterfall, his arms crossed.

"What?" I asked, sure he said something, but not as to what.

"I said, you're crazy."

"Well, out here I can have an actual shower sans the attacks," I grinned.

"You don't think I would get in there?"

"You haven't yet, and you would ruin your lovely suit."

He smirked and jumped into the collected water. He didn't come up for a moment, but he wasn't moving. He soon after burst from the water, his jaw clenched and face contorted with pain.

"Are you all right?" I chuckled.

"It's freezing!" He couldn't help but shout it, I assume, in desperate hopes to warm himself. He slowly and painfully started removing pieces of clothing, and I just watched in amusement.

"You're going to die if you stay here."

"You're... not... dead," he shivered, anxiously removing the last bits of clothing.

"I slept outside on your charred remains of a house," I chuckled, stepping back under the falls.

All I heard was a startled shout of 'Oh my God' and then saw him barrel through the water and wrap his arms around me. Not to his knowledge, I wasn't braced against anything and he ended up tackling me into the water. As soon as we hit he let go and was up and out of the water. I discovered this when I emerged seconds later and saw him collecting his clothes and holding them over his groin.

I laughed and he scowled. "Very well. You win this one, but I'll be back."

"What's the matter? Can't stand -up- to the cold?" I laughed more and went back under the falls as he tromped away, tail between his legs.


~~*~~


It had awoke some hours later, and realised I was still in the water. I looked up and the sun had just set and it was cold. I got out of the water and touched my numb lips, looking around for my towel. My skin tightened as a breeze came up and I continued to scrounge for my towel and realised it had been kidnapped, probably by some passing bats. I frowned as I located my glasses, which were on top of a washcloth and a note.

It read: "Have fun."

I frowned and readjusted my glasses positioning the square, eight inch cloth carefully around what couldn't be shown in public. I inhaled and walked towards the towering hotel in the not so far distance.

I barged through the large glass doors that guarded the front and strolled through the front hall with my head held high, everyone stopping. One of the tenders of the front desk called after me, but I quickly shot him down with a glance.

I continued through to the dining hall and stopped in the doorway, clutching my nethers calmly as I surveyed the hall. The music came to an instrument dropping halt and the room fell silent except for one conversation off to the left corner. I glanced over and saw Mr. Wayne look up with a sip and proceeded to spray the drink in question across his table. I casually made my way to his table and he looked around at his company and arm ornaments in what I assume was an attempt to escape reality.

The eyes of the room followed me and I stopped at his table, leaning forward on it with one hand, the other keeping it polite. "I would like the key," I stated with a coy smile.

"Why, good doctor, what happened?"

"It seems some bats ran off with my towel," my words had more cut in them than I intended, but it made him choke a bit.

"A-hm... That's unfortunate," he stammered, my previous sentence obviously touching on more than I anticipated.

"Yes. It is." I straightened myself and held out my hand, staring down his nervous complexion. He chortled nonchalantly and dug into his pocket.

"You know, you could have asked someone else to keep it for you," he grinned as he dropped it into my hand.

"I felt there was no better place to keep a spare key than with the owner of the establishment," I sneered, clutching my hand around it. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne."

"Are you going to be joining us for dinner?" he inquired with a shimmer in his eyes.

"Perhaps after I find my clothes."

"Then what will you do with them?"

"Bring them down to dress the table with," I smiled mockingly and started off, the room following me again. I glanced back and noticed Mr. Wayne's particular attention to my exit; a suppressed smile located my lips.

I arrived moments later in full garb, even my chestnut sweater-vest, just to annoy him. I adjusted my tie and glasses as I made my way to his table again.

"Ah, Doctor Crane, lovely to see you found some attire," Mr. Wayne's chipper voice peaked over the crowd. His company chuckled a bit and I pulled up a chair next to him.

"Yes, well, my next study is on the social perception of modesty and how it so heavily influences a person's ability to function in a social setting." The table grew quiet as half of them missed my point and the others who got in turned into their collars.

"So, Doctor, what occasion does the grace of your presence bring?" a snide woman piped, swirling her wine glass.

"Well, my apartment burned down. No doubt the rousing of another drunken billionaire," I chuckled and the table joined me as I looked to the man in question, who was laughing as well.

"Well, the press won't listen, but I'm glad to see people aren't as cold in Gotham as I had heard," he chuckled, delivering a warning glance to me.

"To address your question farther, Mr. Wayne here generously offered to put me up here as I had no other options beyond the Asylum, and I can't stay there. I'm afraid eventually it would drive me into one of the cells."

"Yes, tell me about your work there. Word on the street is Rachel Dawes is trying to have you put away," the man across from me spoke with curiosity.

"Ah, well, as Mr. Wayne here can tell you, there is nothing below help for the people there. I think the ambition to putting Falcone behind bars drove her to paranoia. She seems to be under the impression that I am driving them mad, or making them fake it, but you can't fake the physical side-effects of a psychological breakdown," I smiled charmingly.

They chuckled their conceded laugh again, and the woman chimed in again, "Yes, maybe you should have her submitted," she chuckled. I smiled again and the waiter leaned down next to me, taking my order.

"So, how long are you staying here, Doctor Crane?" another asked, the company strangely interested in me.

"As long as Mr. Wayne allows me to," I smiled to Bruce, my eyes prowling his over the edge of my glasses.

"Ah, well, I see no reason to rush you out, after all you are just another victim of that Bat-man. We can't have Gotham's finest doctors out on the street because of some roving vigilante," he laughed, taking a sip from his wine glass. "Doctor Crane, can I pour you a drink?" He offered, lifting my glass.

"I'm not sure. I'm afraid alcohol goes to my head and I have some work to do."

"Just a little won't hurt," he grinned and handed me the glass, one third full. I smiled and sipped from it, setting the drink down.

"So, what is keeping you busy nowadays, Doctor?" one of them asked.

"Oh, the usual. I have been writing up a report on what happened in the Narrows a few days ago. It seems a nerve toxin was released into the air and caused some... curious effects on the people who inhaled it."

"I heard about that, and how all of the criminals escaped as well."

"Yes. Someone did manage to take out the back wall of Arkham, but we had that fixed, very quickly. So, I've been taking information on the subjects and witnesses who escaped the toxin, but not necessarily the victims."

"Well, luckily we were over here," the woman commented again, a roar of pretentious chortling surfacing again.

I 'hm'ed in thought and glanced to Mr. Wayne again, his eyes scanning over my face for a moment. I licked my lips and took another sip, combing through my hair once more to straightened it out as it dried. He turned quickly back to his company.

My dish had arrived; a rare-grilled piece of tri-tip in a Burgundy marinade. I smiled over it and grabbed the waiter before he departed asking for my check.

"You're not eating with us?"

"I apologize, but all of you have finished your meals, and I have work to attend to," I stood and handed the waiter a fifty dollar bill as he approached again. I picked up the dish and said my pleasant goodbyes and left.

{Thank you to all who reviewed, again. It's nice to look the story up and see the reviews time and again. I'm glad you're all enjoying it so far. If you have suggestions or things you would like to see, please, do not hesitate to present them. Email is the best way, but you can always just leave it in a review if you prefer. Another thank you to Anastasia, my newest fiction lover. I hope the story continues to entertain you all.
~Dr. Crane}