Chapter Text
It had been a long time since the Mad Hatter saw the Scarecrow.
A long, long, long, long, long time.
Had it been any longer, he feared, then he might have forgotten him entirely. Memory was never one of Jervis’ strong suits. But how could he forget his dearest friend? He simply couldn’t- wouldn’t! It would be a shame. That was why when he finally caught wind of the king of fear’s return to Arkham, the mad man was ecstatic beyond words.
The news had already been commonplace in the asylum by the time Jervis found out. He was almost always last when it came to things like these. In fact, he came upon the news completely by accident. That was usually how he came across things like these too, actually.
He rarely ever cared for the idle chatter and prattle of the inmates or of the guards. He preferred to keep to himself, or to those in his Wonderland (they were figments of his imagination, his doctors told him, but he knew they were wrong– he was just too polite to correct them). If he was feeling sociable, then he turned to the select few rogues he could tolerate enough to call an acquaintance. Jonathan was different, for he was a friend. So when he heard his name mentioned, he knew the idle chatter was idle no more.
It happened outside his cell. Two guards stood by the glass of his enclosure, talking amongst themselves. Jervis was in the middle of his own conversation; The Mock-Turtle was miserable again. He was comforting the creature when he heard it.
“Jonathan Crane’s set to come back in a few days,” one of the guards said. “Batman finally caught up with him.”
“One more freak for the looney bin,” the other sneered. “Where’s he at now?”
“He’s still stuck in St. Louis’ hospital,” the first continued. “Looks like Batman really messed him up.”
“Well, he deserved it.”
“You always say that…”
“And am I ever wrong?”
They continued talking but Jervis stopped listening by then. He couldn’t believe his ears. Almost at once, the Mock-Turtle disappeared (not because the creature was a figment of his imagination, no, but because the Mock-Turtle was simply tired of Jervis’ sad attempts at consolation). He was far too focused on the return of his March Hare, whenever that would be.
Preparations have to be made! He thought excitedly to himself. Ideally, there would be a tea party, but he neither had the time nor materials for it. Jonathan never liked tea anyway. But that didn’t deter the Hatter, for a friend like the March Hare deserved a return fit for even the Queen of Hearts. His mind was promptly filled with flights of fancy; Parties that could never be held, celebrations that no one would want. In truth, the Scarecrow was deeply unpopular (but so was he, and he wondered if that was what made them such a good match). Even if he did hold a welcome back party, he doubted anyone would really want to go.
He had to focus. There was no use wasting his time on impossible fantasies! Jonathan would be back any day now. Once he realized that, he instead directed his time into a task that also required great effort: Remembering. Memory was never one of his strong suits, you see (had he mentioned that before?), so having to remember anything came with a great toll. At least, anything from a long time ago. And he hadn’t seen Jonathan in quite a while (hadn’t he mentioned that too?).
He made a mental list inside his head. Then, he would answer it.
What was Jonathan’s favorite color? He says black, but it’s really orange.
Jonathan’s favorite pastime? Reading, of course, or thinking about how to perfect his toxins. But that’s sort of just work, isn’t it? So I suppose playing chess could replace that.
His favorite drink? Sweet tea; A disgusting thing, really, but I’d never say that outright.
Favorite food? He never liked eating much, the poor thing. But he had a fondness for pastries.
Favorite story? Anything by Poe (As he so loved to remind me).
Favorite animal? Crows!
Why was Jonathan in Arkham? He was insane, of course! He must be, or he wouldn’t have come here.
Why was he the Scarecrow? Because he simply wanted to be.
Why does he hate the Bat? Because it’s a nuisance; We all hate him!
Why did he disappear? Well, that’s because he…
Why did he disappear? He had a good reason, surely, I just can’t seem to recall right… now…
Why did he disappear? … Oh, dear.
Jervis was stumped. Why did he? He was sure Jonathan had told him– he must have. He just couldn’t remember at the moment. That was always his problem, the doctors said. His mind was too much of a mess to remember anything important (not that he was agreeing, but it certainly seemed to apply to the situation at hand).
He tried to remember the last time they had seen each other. It was at Jonathan’s old lab, an abandoned chemical warehouse… Or was it a chemical plant? How long ago it had been! Jervis thought to himself urgently. If I don’t recall now, I may never again! Let me see…
“Your hair wants cutting,” I had said to him; I was in one of those moods again, quoting and whatnot– but I really meant it. His hair did want cutting.
“I know,” he sighed. His voice had an eerie lilt, as it always did. “But I don't have the time.”
“Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he’d do almost anything you liked with the clock.”
He didn’t say anything to that, I’m sure. Instead he turned his back to me and sat at his workstation. It was a dark oak desk– or was it mahogany? Oh, what does it matter! He sat down and he began to work. I was left to my own devices, as usual. My, did he really spend so little attention on me?
Oh, but he spoke to me, I remember, he spoke! He said something important, he said…
“I’ll be going away soon.”
I looked at him curiously, but he did not look back.
“I have a plan, Tetch. One that will surely take down Batman for good.”
“The Jabberwock…!” I had gasped, but he ignored me.
“He won’t survive it. He can’t survive it. He simply mustn't. If he did, then– …”
Then… Then…!
He couldn’t remember. Oh, he couldn’t remember! He knew his memory loss was bad, but the thought of it getting worse… It frightened him so. He tried to focus on what he did know, how Jonathan did tell him of his leaving, as well as why, and how it most certainly had something to do with the Bat. But despite those small reassurances, it wasn’t at all enough for him to be reassured.
Eventually the Mock-Turtle returned so that he wouldn’t be so alone in his cell, but instead of being the one having to be comforted, the creature was there to comfort him.