"F-F-Fun but unlikely." Jonathan slipped off his bed and landed on the floor, crawling along the floor to where he had drawn the Scarecrow. He touched the picture and felt it screaming back out at him. "I'll never leave Arkham." It just didn't seem possible. He'd been here a long time now and he'd be here even longer. Forgotten entirely by anyone who could or should care.

Jonathan turned away from his Scarecrow, looking up at Jerome curiously. "Prove me wrong?" He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to go out there. He wanted everyone to suffer like he suffered.