Crane's grip was white, pale, a stark contrast against the maddening red. He grunted, looking over at him. There was no medic, apparently, within the League of Shadows that wished to aid him.

Funny, that--but then he wasn't technically a member, he supposed. Rather a hired thug. A glorified hired thug, but one who was rather powerful nonetheless. And now? Now his shirt was being ripped off by nothing more than a hired hand.

He couldn't help but grunt as the other forced his hand away, though his lips parted as he was grinning.

"There's nothing to fear but fear itself," He murmured, choking back laughter. He wasn't The Joker, but this... this was exciting. Fearful, even.