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The Doctor's pen took a sudden jerk across his notepad as an orderly ran straight into his desk. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he drew a deep breath to calm himself before glancing up with an icy blue gaze.

"Yes?"

"...Doctor...Crane...." The young, rather panicky orderly backpedaled a step, wringing her hands. "We have a problem-"

"Panic isn't going to help you," the tall, eerie man intoned in his careful purr of a voice. He set his pen aside, giving the young woman a look. "Now. What is it?"

"It's Vincira, sir, she's acting very strangely-"

"Have you given her her medications? Because if you haven't, then it's hardly surprising that-"

"But she's demanding to see you, Doctor. Right at this moment."

Crane sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "Of course." And with that, he stood up, his formidable height apparent as he towered over his desk.

As he turned on his heel to walk out of his office, he gave one more chilling glance to the orderly.

"...Calm down before you get back to work. You need your wits about you here."

And with that, he was out the door.

________________

Vincira, meanwhile, was dead silent - simply sitting and waiting, with a bit of a glint in her bright crimson eyes. She drummed her fingers on the edge of the chair, the right side of her face occasionally twitching.

You see, she had just realized something. Something rather...unnerving.

Doctor Crane entered the room, locking the door behind him. In an attempt to be at least a bit personable, he prepared a rather small, lopsided smile and spoke in a fairly kind tone as he moved to turn around.

"Now, Vincira, I understand something is the ma-"

THWAP!

Before he could completely turn to face the woman, a sharp, stinging blow met the side of his face, knocking him off-balance and sending him staggering awkwardly into the wall. "What the-"

Vincira was standing right up close to him, her expression fierce. The glowing pendant she always wore about her throat shone brightly underneath the Arkham jumpsuit - the light visibly eminating from within the fabric.

Sometimes, Crane wondered why he persisted in treating Vincira. Among the myriad of strange powers she had was levitation, and it made it rather difficult to hear her footsteps when she approached.

Rubbing at his smarting cheek, he straightened up and cleared his throat.

"May I ask what that was for?"

Vincira gave him the look of death, pointing a finger at him and speaking in a hoarse, shaky tone.

"I should think you would KNOW what...."

Prodding him rather hard in the sternum, she stormed back around the table, flopping back into her seat. Her wings gave an impatient flutter behind her, bandages unravelling further and little splatters of blood hitting the gray floor.

Crane walked to the other side of the table, taking a seat and keeping his eyes trained on Vincira.

"...Vincira. I've gone over this with you before. You shouldn't take your aggressions out on people, let alone taking them out on your psychiatrist. Displacement is a defense mechanism, and-"

"It isn't displacement if it's something you did, is it?"

The doctor blinked, brows furrowing briefly before returning to their calm, sharp expression.

"If...there is something I have been doing wrong in your eyes, do let me know so I can rectify it...."

A sharp, high laugh escaped the woman's throat quite suddenly, a rather hysterical look crossing her gaunt face.

"RECTIFY IT!? I'd LOVE to know how you'd fix THIS one, Crane!"

Before he could react, she was on her feet, her chair rattling and flying into the wall of its own accord. Pieces of splintered wood and cracked plaster fell across the floor. Frowning, he stood up - in time for a scarred hand to shoot forward and yank his tie. He gagged as it tightened, pulling him down until blue eyes met glowing red ones.

"I'm missing something, DOCTOR Crane, which I should have had by this time of month by now...do you know what that SOMETHING is?"

Crane sputtered, confusion crossing his thin face.

"Well, then, LET ME FILL YOU IN. I. AM. PREGNANT!"

His eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth for an intelligent remark.

"...Eehhhhhhh?"

With another sharp blow to his face, his tie was released, sending him tripping backward over the back of his chair and onto the floor.

"I'M PREGNANT!" Vincira's voice was a high shriek. She hurled the remaining chair against the door over Crane's head, one of the legs snapping off and clattering across the floor to tap into his own leg. Wildly, one of Vincira's arms raised to point at him. "AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

Catching his breath, Jonathan straightened out the tangled mess of his gangly legs.

"Why would it be my fault, Vincira? It isn't as if we've ever-"

"WE HAVE."

Crane's face went white. "...You're...delusional. I would know...now...wouldn't I?" But he sounded unsure. Come to think of it...there were some rather hazy spots in his memory lately, and....

"No, no. That's...it's impossible!" Grimacing, he pulled himself off the floor, standing and straightening his glasses. He stared at the wall, running a hand back through his mussed hair. "I would never...and...."

His tone trailed off at a soft sound behind him.

Vincira was sobbing quietly, covering her face with both hands. It became very clear once more...that he was the doctor, she the patient. The last thing her mental state needed was for him to fly off the handle.

Sighing heavily, the Doctor limped over, resting a hand on her shoulder. He tried his best to keep his voice level - it came out just above a whisper. "...I'll take you in. We'll get this checked. Until then...you need to try and relax. Using all these powers...all you're doing is straining yourself."

She said nothing, giving him a sullen little look.

"...I'm scared. What if...?"

"...I...don't know. We'll sort through it."

And in the awkward quiet, without another word exchanged, Vincira was ushered out of the room.

_____

"Hold my calls."

The door to the office clicked shut as Crane slumped into his chair. Had he REALLY gotten a patient...pregnant? This was not good. Not only did it CERTAINLY bring his professionalism into question....

...It meant he was losing his mind.

Removing his glasses, he ran a hand over his face. How was he going to explain this one? Where would he take her to be checked? CERTAINLY not to Norman...perhaps somewhere more...low-key. And the CHILD? What of that? And...what if his sanity were to slip any further....?

"...If this is what being crazy feels like...."

His head slammed down onto the desk, sending the pen from before rolling off onto the carpet and under a filing cabinet.

"...Then being crazy SUCKS."