His Patient || Jonathan Crane x Reader - Book 1

Am I Crazy?

"Can you walk me through the events of that night again? Specifically how you were feeling and what you were thinking," Dr. Crane spoke in a tone that was almost comforting.

"Why? It's not like you believe me."

"Oh but I do," he quickly replied.

"Then why am I here?" my brows furrowed.

Why was I stuck in that awful, gloomy place? Thinking about it now, it's not much different than the city.

"You would have never survived prison. And it was like your attorney said, the case was open-and-shut."

"Speaking of which," he continued, "how has your stay here been?"

"You really believe me? You don't think I killed them?" I asked hopefully, a smile almost taking over.

Dr. Crane adjusted his glasses and slowly sighed, "I believe you didn't mean to."

I sighed, throwing my hands in the air, realizing we were right back where we started. How stupid of me to to get my hopes up, how stupid of me to think he, or anyone, would ever believe me. I didn't even really believe me.

"Just trust me, okay? Can you do that for me, Y/n?" he pleaded, placing his hand over mine.

I pulled my hand away, blushing and shrugged, not giving him much of an answer.

"Okay," he politely smiled, bringing out his brief case.

"Do you mind if I record our conversation?"

"No," I told the doctor.

After introducing himself and I to the recorder, reading the date aloud, and addressing the case, he turned over to me, "Whenever you're ready."

"I don't know where to start," I admitted, shyly.

"The events leading up to your attempt is fine." he replied.

"Well," I started, following a long sigh, "I had just gotten into an argument with my parents while I was visiting them."

"It was about my future and career options," I quickly added before he could ask.

"They want-" letting out a breathy laugh, "wanted," I corrected, "me to get a better job so I could financially support them." On top of that, there were others things but I decided to save them for later.

"On my way back home, I decided that I'd go through with it and bought the gun."

"If I had known the guy was gonna snitch.." I thought.

"So, after writing the note, I did."

"And how were you feeling?" he asked, picking up his pen to take more notes.

"Angry," I told him, gripping my knees as the emotions from that night came rushing back.

A look of confusion washed over his face as he eyed the grip I had on my knees.

"I was so angry, part of me even wished it was my parents in my place," I admitted.

Suddenly the confusion shifted to curiosity.

"Really?" he inquired, leaning in and staring intently into my eyes.

————

"Y/n's lack of control over her ability is a direct result of her lack of control over her emotions," the handsome doctor told the green haired clown, "I'm sure of it."

"And how do we fix that?" the man groaned.

"It should be obvious," the brunette thought.

"There's something else though," he told him, ignoring his question. "I have a theory, one I may need your help testing out."

————

"Ow, Harley," I whined, pulling away from her grip.

"Sorry, Button, J wanted me to," she admitted, letting go of my hair.

After some time, I decided not to question her considering I couldn't possibly understand what goes on in either of their heads. And I didn't want to deal with the consequences of knowing things I shouldn't...

"Okay.." I sighed, stepping further away from the girl, afraid she may do it again.

"So, how'd things go with the doc?"

"Fine," I dryly replied.

"That's it?" she groaned, "You're really no fun, Y/n!"

————

"Did it hurt when you did it?"

"I mean yeah, I pulled her hair."

"Not her, Harley! You! Did it hurt you?" Joker yelled, grabbing a hold of her shoulders.

"Only my heart.." the girl pouted, teasing her boyfriend.

"Harley.." his eyes darkened as his grip on her shoulders tightened.

"No, J, why would it?" she questioned with furrowed brows.

"Was she upset?" he asked, ignoring Harley's question.

"No, Y/n seemed fine with it," Harley told him, "I think she might've been into it.." she dragged on.

————

My stay here has been so weird. I don't hate it but I also don't love it. The people are nice, sometimes. The food is awful, the rooms are cold, the board games they have are from the 50s but the people are nice.

I think the people are really the only good thing about it all, isn't that funny? I thought they'd be the worst part, but the people here are actually nice. Did I say that already?

"Harley, how long does it take someone to go crazy in here?"

"You can't go crazy twice, Button." the blonde replied, twirling her hair between her finger.

I remembered reading somewhere that crazy people don't question whether or not they're crazy. Does that mean that if I'm questioning my sanity I'm not really crazy? But if I accept that questioning my sanity makes me not crazy, does that make me crazy for no longer thinking I am?

"Harley, when's lunch?" I whined, "I'm bored!"

"Soon," she spoke, looking at the imaginary watch she wore on her wrist.

Lunch was not in fact soon as I ended up having to wait two hours just to be told we were already supposed to be getting ready for bed.

I couldn't sleep, I kept tossing and turning which resulted in Harley throwing pillows in my face. Multiple.

But how was I supposed to? I couldn't just shut off my brain as easily I would a light.

"What if I did do it?" I thought.

"What if I really did kill my parents and, to deal with the trauma, repressed it all and made up a story?"

"But that wouldn't explain the blood," I thought out loud.

"Huh, maybe you can go crazy twice," Harley absentmindedly spoke into her pillows, causing her words to be muffled.