open.

[shoving]

𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞

Comments

[shoving]

[ was there a difference? You're not my friend Bruce thinks and almost says but ultimately doesn't. ]

I'm on the cover of 3 different tabloids this week. My life's an open book, Doctor Crane.

[ An open book, but the pages are blank. He never offers anything of substance, even in this place where he's meant to feel safe enough to share how he feels. He doesn't, but that doesn't make it any less true. ]

[restingstitchface]

Ah, the tabloids. Those renowned bastions of veracity and truth.

[His clipped tone suggests bemusement but lacks warmth. He cares little for the media and less for the lie.]

I make it a rule never to believe what someone else has written without clarification. There is a difference between opinion pieces and evidenced research.

[shoving]

You don't think there's a little bit of truth in those stories?

[ Sure there's a lot of exaggeration and blatant lies from people he may have partied with briefly or exchanged glances with at some charity gala. But it's part of the narrative being woven. If Bruce didn't want those compromising images out there? They wouldn't be. ]

So you want me to clarify then. What have you read about me, Dr. Crane? Maybe I will.

[restingstitchface]

[Crane lowers his eyes to the point they seem closed. He is deliberating something, frustrated by some unsolved problem. The urge to throw caution to the wind. The need to be seen.]

Well, I believe that you are powerful enough to be capable of having the press print precisely what you want them to.

[So will anything he shares be the truth? Bruce's words will become another facade he has to unravel or fracture.]

Might you confirm or deny that?

[shoving]

I'm not the one who takes these stories to the press. It's all speculation from someone who might have met me once at a party and we're suddenly lifelong friends.

[ Not a direct answer. Bruce doesn't do those. ]

[restingstitchface]

Like this friend you made recently?

[He gently raises a brow in curiosity. The urge to throw caution to the wind. The need to start questioning and probing.]

I must observe he is hardly the only one keeping secrets. But if he entertains you by showing you a good time where is the harm?

[shoving]

[ Bruce sits with that for a moment. He wouldn't call his encounter with Scarecrow a good time. But it had raised his adrenaline in a way he hasn't felt in quite some time. He could get addicted to that if he wasn't careful. ]

He's a bit reckless.

[ So are you, Bruce. ]

[restingstitchface]

[Crane could sit upon that comment, digest and dissect it, dissolving it with his analysis until there is nothing left.

But why do the work when he can make his client do it instead?]

Says the pot to the kettle.

[So are you, Bruce. ]

[shoving]

He's reckless in a way that endangers others. I'm only a danger to myself.

[ Case in point: the bruises. And sure he crashed a car, but no one was around or in it with him. ]

[restingstitchface]

That sounds like an excuse. One reason you are here is because your behaviour is taking a toll upon your loved ones.

[Sir, you can lie to other psychiatrists, but you cannot lie to me.]

Or are you going to say they enjoy seeing you come home battered and bruised every night?

[shoving]

It won't kill them.

[ And if he dies? That won't kill them either. Or maybe it will. The deaths of Thomas and Martha Wayne was certainly the end of the 8 year old boy they left behind. Dick's death took whatever sense of justice Bruce had left with him.

He shrugs. ]

[restingstitchface]

Now you are distancing yourself from the problem. People can die more than a physical death as you are well aware.

[Case in point: stop making excuses. There is only one person driving your car, sir. Now, ask yourself why does anyone drive a fast car?]

Perhaps your problem is that you cannot share that you enjoy the thrill of throwing caution to the wind. Reckless. Like your friend.

[So are you, Bruce.]

[shoving]

[ It's a roundabout way to call him a hypocrite. Bruce could see it. Probably because Crane wanted him to. Why he wouldn't come out and say that is a curious thing.

He sits, quiet for a moment. Then he looks up at Jonathan, expression somewhere between unreadable and scrutiny. ]

Do you think I'm dead, Dr. Crane?

[restingstitchface]

[That inscrutable stare meets an unemotional gaze. Crane has endured life enough to accept that whatever he should be feeling he cannot. He stares for an equally uncomfortable time until he inhales. His shoulders relax as he controls himself, collects himself.]

Hardly. Otherwise Bruce Wayne would not be grumbling in that chair. Somebody else would be filling the void.

[His voice is quiet and observant with the perfect pitch of professionalism. But something inside him thinks a man who enjoys a quiet and stable life deserves to have it snatched away. Somebody else is filling the void, one might say.]

[shoving]

[ Bruce sits there in silence, watching Crane. He relaxes, it's almost like Bruce can see it in the way his shoulders shift. Meaning he'd been tense, no matter how brief. There was no one else to fill the void. Not for him or for Crane.

They'd keep this dance up for as long as they could, wouldn't they? ]

You're right. It has to be me.

[ He punched a man, fractured his jaw. Smashed another's teeth in. Headbutted one who tried to pin him down. It has to be him. No one else could carry that burden. His hands ache. ]

What would you say to my friend?

[restingstitchface]

[Crane holds a tense silence as he considers that misleading question. One designed to receive his guidance - but also to extract information. But he hardly considers whatever information he might reveal as threatening to his position.

He writes inside his notebook before resting his hands upon his lap, speaking during the transition from one action to another.]

I would advise him to direct his energy towards those who deserve it.

[His targeting of society has not been without reason, after all.]

[shoving]

[ Someone who deserved it. Bruce could think of someone who deserved all of his energy. Of course, they were in Gotham. There wasn't a shortage of people who deserved Batman's attention. Scarecrow is just the one on his radar currently. ]

Maybe I'll tell him that. It's a professional opinion, after all.

[restingstitchface]

[Eyebrows could raise. Hands could come together. His pen could be writing in his notepad. Crane remains upright in his armchair, his face unmoved and his voice devoid of emotion.]

Of course. [His tone is factual and polite.] Just remember his response will be the result of your input.

[Is decision a better word? He cannot quite agree. Progression in life is a series of events; all of which inform those later down the line.]

[shoving]

You say that like it's a bad thing.

[ Crane is still. Bruce shifts, restless. He puts his ankle on the opposite knee. ]

Maybe he'll decide to change.

[restingstitchface]

[Crane rests his hands, together upon the table. He starts closing his eyes, showing no emotion for the individual in question. The sole spark of life is the soft and thoughtful tone in his voice.]

Do you think so? Society believes poor impulse control originates in negative childhood development; humans rush to condemn one another for improper parenting. [Right?] Institutions argue reckless behaviour originates in a familial propensity for pathology.

[His voice lacks inflection. Most of his peers had enjoyed comfortable lives as children. They had been accepted by society and respected as living, breathing beings. He remembers being a shivering wreck and understands why he disagrees with the concensus of his profession.]

Social learning, inferior cognitive processing and socioeconomic status. They believe each has a role in shaping an individual's propensity for reckless behavior. Nobody considers they choose to act that way. Nor that the cause might be the city we call home.

[Gotham does have an effect on people.]

[shoving]

[ Bruce listens from a state of detached disinterest. It's true poor beginnings very often led to poor endings. But it didn't always have to be like that. Batman's vengeance had always been tempered by his compassion, even when he felt like he had very little to give these days.

But something he still believed? People deserved a second chance. For now, that had not been taken from him. ]

I do think so. People want to do good, even if their beginning wasn't perfect. Some of them just need a second chance.

[ Everyone else? Gets punched by the Bat. ]

[restingstitchface]

[Crane begins remembering that night, returning there inside his mind, recollecting what the two of them had been fighting for.]

Perhaps Gotham is the one who needs that second chance.

[His detached and impassive voice, distant from subject, is as cold as the winters that plague their home. Does he truly care to help those who live upon her ground? Does he believe they deserve a second chance? Or can he never answer the question?

Perhaps the latter. All had had a second chance, a third, a fourth...]

[shoving]

[ Gotham needed a lot of things. Rehabilitation, a fresh start. A second chance. Bruce wouldn't be the one to give it to her. But he could make getting there a little less painful. At least for the good folks. ]

It does. It won't be with me though.

[ He doesn't smile at Crane, just stares at him. ]

I'm just one man.

[restingstitchface]

One man more wealthy than most.

[Thoughts remain unspoken but hang on the air: not everyone has access to your resources.]

One man who serves as a different symbol depending on your position within this city.

[He cannot imagine everyone living in the filthiest apartments would ever approve of all that wealth in the hands of one man. Whilst he can accept some believe at least he is generous in supporting good causes. Yet still they live in squalor...]

[shoving]

People don't want me as a symbol. I'm a spoiled rich kid who never grew up.

[ Sure he'd been generous with his money, but he'd also been showy and selfish with it too. No matter how much he gave, it'd never match how much he'd pretend to spend.

Or spend on what really mattered. ]

They'd take the Batman over me any day.