It had to be some sort of record, Doctor Carey was convinced. Cadence hadn't been out of the sanitarium three days before she was back again...

And this time, there was no room for doubt that she was off her rocker. Especially since the police dragged her in.

Arkham was full of people in Cadence's condition, but given her tender years, she was returned to Sunshine, a babbling, whining, crying mess.

No one knew what happened to her. At least, no one whose name wasn't Jonathan Crane.

He'd found her in a motel...so nice to live in an age of technological wonders where people were so easily traceable...

The little blonde twit had been so happy to see him that she didn't see his fist come flying out of nowhere as he knocked her across the face and sent her reeling.

"This isn't on their behalf, you understand," he had said to her, picking up the bedside lamp and smashing it against a wall so that he had a jagged edge. "I don't care about them."

Cadence barely had time to recover before he smashed the broken glass into her back. "I have a reputation to protect, child."

Then the toxin was out and his mask was on...

"They may merely be henchmen--but they are my henchmen--and to do anything to them is to undermine me."

The air grew thick with fear toxin and the screaming started as Cadence curled in on herself on the floor.

"And we can't have that, now can we?"

And inside Sunshine, in a padded room, Cadence rocked back and forth, her head thumping against one of the walls as she muttered to herself.

"No. No, we can't have that. No, no, no, we can't have that, Scary."

Away from Sunshine, where three henchgirls sat around tending their wounds, the Scarecrow stormed in, stripping off his mask and discarding it carelessly on the floor as he went, entered his room and slammed the door behind him.

The Captain, Al and Techie looked at each other.

"You don't think he..."

"No, he'd never. Not for us."

Captain looked at the mask with her one good eye. "Well it is a little bloody looking, isn't it?"

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Even Crane, with his door shut, in his bed with a pillow over his head, trying to blot out their conversation, could hear the triumphant exclamation he was afraid he'd hear upon his return...

"He does love us!"