[img=http://th07.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2012/276/6/d/jonathan_crane_by_alineumann-d5gofxs.jpg]

Jonathan sat in his recliner at home, in his small apartment near the heater. He had a Newspaper in his hands, and was skimming through it with a light curiosity. He had always thought it important to stay caught up on recent events. It was only a light knock on his front door that made him set the paper down, and answer his door.

“Hey, Johnny. Long time no see, man. I was hoping I’d catch you here, you mind if I come in..?” It was Oliver, one of the few high school friends Jonathan had ever made. 

Oliver had more copper skin and was darker haired. Shorter, yet stocky, he had a slash running down his right cheek. A horrifying reminder of how lucky they had been, a few years ago, when more insanity struck Gotham and nearly killed them during the Haley’s Day massacre. Jonathan had escaped unharmed, Oliver wasn’t so lucky.

“Of course you can come in, Oliver. It’s nice to see you again too. Come In, come in!” Jonathan waved the man in before nervously checking the hallway of his apartment complex for intruders or eavesdroppers. Satisfied with the emptiness of the place, he shut the door and slid the bolt lock into place.

The two men made their way to the living room of Jonathan and sat down. Jonathan picked his newspaper back up and thumbed through it idly, waiting for Oliver to speak. Eventually, the young man did. 

“You know Johnny, I heard they’re always looking for Doctors with Psychology degrees at Arkham Asylum. You know they pay well too! Have to, in order to get people to put up with working in a nut house like that. Ever think of going there..?” 

Jonathan nodded politely, his sky blue eyes sitting calmly behind his spectacles.

“I have thought about it, actually. But I don’t know if I want to devote my life to helping fix broken men just yet. It is easier to build strong boys than fix broken men. It’s why I like to teach. I see the same enthusiasm in my students that I had while sitting in those same old desks they sit in now, only a few years ago too.”

“You’ve only been teaching at the University a year! Surely you can’t have sunk your roots in too deep, have you..?” Oliver seemed genuinely surprised that Jonathan was growing attached to teaching. Jonathan was the kind of man that didn’t get attached to anything.

“Of course not, but I have steady income and am doing something I like, I don’t want to risk it all for nothing.” 

Oliver rolled his eyes and stood up with a shrug. He made his way to the front door, and Jonathan held it open for him. After Oliver stepped into the hallway, he turned back to his older friend.

“Well, my brother works in the Asylum and just wanted me to ask around for him. They’re in need of Good Doctors out there.”
“I’m sure they are.” Jonathan said curtly.

“And Shannon works out there too.” Oliver said with a twinge of excitement, knowing how Jonathan would react to this news.

“Shannon…?” He seemed paler than normal, and slightly dumbfounded. 

“Yup. Remember her..? Long red hair, cute button nose, and eyes as green as Jade. She was a hell of a girl in High School. Still is. Her eyes are as green as ever, and her legs just as slim. Of course, she’es engaged to marry Bruce now… I know you too never saw eye-to-eye.”

“Indeed we didn’t, Oliver.” The coldness and distance had returned to Jonathan’s tone and eyes. Shannon had seemed to warm his heart, if only for a moment.

“Yeah, but I don’t think she’d mind seeing you some. All that High School nonsense is over now. We’re adults. She works as a Nurse there, so if you worked there, you may even be her superior.” Oliver was using Shannon as bait, seemingly desperate to get a hire for his brother. Things must have been more dire there than he thought.

“Goodnight, Oliver.” Jonathan said cooly, shutting the door noiselessly and locking it. He lean against the door for a moment, listening to Oliver sigh heavily on the other side of the door and step heavily as he made his way down the hall. 

He turned around and made his way to his bedroom, looking into his closet, he found a row of clean and crisp black suit all hung up, formal and very dignified; he liked the look of them. But he also liked the look of something else even more…

Pulling a cardboard box out of the corner of his closet, he took it to his room and sat down with it, opening it slowly. Inside was a notebook filled with complex equations and chemistry nonsense. Jonathan’s father had almost created a perfected anesthetic, and Jonathan had been tweaking the formula slightly to see what would come of it. It was one such late night in the lab, he had discovered the second object in the box, a mask.

It was made of burlap and felt rough in his hands. Two eye holes were cut in the mask, as well as a grizzly smile. He had discovered it in Saint George’s Redemption Church many years ago while he was a boy. He remembered the day clearly.

He had disappointed his grandmother Harriet for one thing or another, and she locked him into the crumbling church with a sneer and a lecture, before from outside ringing a large bell that summoned a flock of crows so thick and savage, they had nearly pecked the eyes from Jonathan’s skull. They had ruined his clothes and given him many a knick and scratch, but the boy survived just fine. Physically at least. Inside this had been the beginning of understanding Fear, of understanding what it meant to be truly be Afraid. 

He did not know what the mask was doing there, nor how long it had lain. But as the swarm of crows struck the boy, he fell onto his side in-between a pair of pews, and as he lay on his side crawling into the fetal position, he noticed it lay in the dusk and dirt of the floor in front of him, only a few inches away.

At first he had kept it because it looked cool, than as a monument to his vanquished fear, and the death of his innocence. Soon it grew more and more in importance to him, and though he had never worn it out of some misplaced fear, he knew the mask held a great destiny for him.
 
Sighing to himself heavily, he took his sharp looking spectacles off his face, and rubbed his face sleepily. He laid the box on the bedside table and lay down, suddenly exhausted. He had forgotten to turn the light out in his room, as well as undress, but sleep soon came for him all the same…