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"I don't understand you," Bruce said, sitting on a rock in the batcave, "any of you from Arkham."

"Of course you don't." Jonathan looked up at him, blood dripping into his eyes making the former psychiatrist blink. "You're too strong."

"I'm sorry," Bruce replied, thinking Crane was admonishing him for the latest beating. He knew he had to stop doing this; the smaller man was covered in cuts and bruises.

"I didn't mean physically. I meant mentally. You're unbalanced but you're not broken, not broken enough to understand at least." Absently he straightened a bent finger, seemingly oblivious to the pain.

"You're all insane and criminals, you don't care what pain your actions cause other people. I don't understand how you can be so cold. I'm glad I don't understand."

"Lack of empathy has many different causes. It can be genetic, congenital or it can be brought on by brain damage or conditioning." His manner was that of a college professor, explaining a topic to his class. He smiled and a touch of the Scarecrow came through in his voice. "There is a certain freedom however that comes with not caring. You will never feel that, not truly."

"How do you know?" Bruce asked. "Maybe I feel that way when I hurt you."

"Oh no my dear Bat-man, that is something quite different. That is rage." Jonathan smiled a deranged smile. "I know you love me really."