Alright, to explain the title of this story, I must simply state that there is no such color as Neon Black. That's the beauty in it, since there is a, well, not a legend, but a myth that whoever sees the color is experiencing something truly amazing. (Like a near death experience or a close encounter.) Black is the absence of all light, which makes it a mixture of all the colors, so in order to see anything close to neon in there, you'd have to be pretty far out there.

This is also a story about Jonathan Crane, though I never say his name.

I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, Christian Bale, Gary Oldman, and the late Heath Ledger. All elements of Gotham City are based off of Chicago, IL and are designed around blue prints and street maps I have of that area. Other elements are named for their original comic counterparts, as the back stories and basic personality traits are also based off of the comic counterparts. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!

He supposed it wasn't news that his heart was failing.

In fact, he'd known that for a while now.

His heart had never really been right, ever since his birth from a crack addicted mother in the old manor at the hands of a seventy year old woman. Couple that with the intense labor and abuse he was served on a daily basis by her, plus all the running and fleeing he did from the bullies in his life and any doctor could have told you that there were bound to be heart troubles.

And that was before he'd been poisoned.

Now his already strained heart was put under more and more duress every day he lived. He'd always had to take medication for it, in secret of course, but when Rachel Dawes had tazered him, it has caused his already weakened and over stimulated heart to go into a deadly stretch of palpitations and irregularity. It had nearly killed him. And, had it not been for the backdoor alley clinic he'd found in a moment of shear dumb luck, he would have.

The body could only take so much, after all.

He knew it would come to this.

And yet he was still surprised.

Even now, walking was starting to become a challenge. He'd often have to stop mid journey to make sure his heart beat was strong and regular, not weak and erratic like it was most of the time. He had to make sure that he always had his heart medication now; along with the antipsychotics he'd been prescribed to stop the hallucinations, since those only made the already terrible situation worse. Everything was a challenge now…and he could no longer work with his beloved chemicals.

He'd been warned by every medical health professional he'd seen that if he continued to work with potentially toxic inhalants that it could cause even more damage to his weakened body then was already done. Even if it didn't affect his heart directly, just his lungs or blood, it could be more than enough to simply put his body into overload, which would cause complete shutdown. He'd already been dead once before, and he rather didn't want to take that risk again. He wasn't sure he'd want to come back again.

He wondered just how long it would take for the disease to finally claim him.

Five years?

Five months?

Five days?

Five minutes?

And here he'd always thought his life of crime would be his undoing. That or the Joker. But, technically those went hand in hand, as he often worked with the Joker in certain aspects of his criminal life style. But it wasn't his fault the clown was unstable. He just simply was, much like he was simply dying, albeit quicker than most.

No one would care when he went anyways.

No one.

Not his family, what little he hadn't taken care of already, not his therapist, not his ex-coworkers, not the citizens of Gotham, and most certainly not the Batman. No, no one would care if he just suddenly stopped appearing one day. The world would keep turning, and everyone would be happier…including the Bat.

But then why had he hunted him down, only to not arrest him, but to give him the medication he so required? Why would that man care if he lived or died, after all he'd done? Why should anyone care?

They shouldn't…and yet, they did.

How strange.

It was truly mysterious, much like a shade of neon black.

I always think that Jonathan should have some for of Myocardiodystrophy. His heart has taken a severe ass whopping in the past, not to mention he is an addict baby. That poor boy's body is all screwed up, so this isn't that much of a far leap idea wise. And that's what was killing Rachel in Batman Begins, her heart was giving out under the shear amount of terror her system was feeding her. Well, that and all the adrenaline.

Crane got dosed with the exact same thing.

He needs a hug und a sandvich.