The Skin That Crawls From You [A Jonathan Crane Fan-fiction]

Meet the Folks.

"I was waiting until the right moment to tell you this-"
He sighs.

"But I'm a fugitive."

"Obviously? You not only tortured an entire mental hospital worth of patients, but you unleashed a madness inducing gas unto the general public. You wear a fucking scarecrow mask and play with chemical weapons? How is this new information? "
I bark.

He raises his brows, a look of faint amusement washing across his stone face; a faint smile looming on his plump lips.

"Well- Raven,"
He begins, his tone suddenly sarcastic.

"After Jack took you, after that night in the narrows; i put together a team. We took every ounce of fear serum and I began to sell it on the streets as a... recreational drug."

He must see the confusion on my face, he continues quickly to fill in the gaps.

"I was coming up with a plan to break you out. I thought if I had made enough cash that I could pay off one of Jack's guards- that I could sneak you out under that psycho's powdered nose."

"And?"
I ask. The last few months of my life have become blurred in my memory. All I remember is draining the life from those four guards in this very motel room, i did not have time to ask them who they worked for and I didn't have the brain capacity to piece any of it together after the emotional trauma I had been through.

"Well- our friend 'Batsy' crashed a deal and sent me back to Arkham. I got into the heads of a couple Arkham guards, and escaped. Then I came for you. Those men you killed, they were my employees."

I can't read the tone of his voice. There's no sadness, no rebuke, it's as if he's simply stating a fact.

"Oh,"
Is all I can say. Until I remember the topic at hand.

"Why did you go to my apartment last night? And what the hell happened to your face?"

He raises his brows slightly and settles into the desk chair again. He sits with his legs apart, slightly slumped as he sips his black coffee. His bruised face rather colorful against the bland motel room's egg -nog colored wall.

"I went to your apartment and packed you a bag."
He looks up at me suddenly.

"Now I'm going to have to leave town, and either way you need clothing. Something other than that. I recommend you leave town too."
He says seriously.

"I don't expect you to travel with me- I just needed to know that you were okay. That's why I'm here. I just needed you out of his clutches."
He is vulnerable for a moment, his stoic demeanor is nowhere to be found, but his voice is still steady and cool.

"My mother- you saw her?"
I ask. the thought of her, trapped within the narrows during the release of his toxin hits me out of nowhere.

"Is she okay?"
I beg. My voice panicked. Even with my mixed emotions towards her; I still want her to be okay.

"She's fine."

I sigh, relieved.

"Wait, did you- did you talk to her?"
I hadn't even thought about my mother. Where does she think I am? What does she know about all of this? She's lost both of her children.

He takes a deep breath.

"Yes, I did."

"What!"

"Well- I snuck into your bedroom,"
His words send a feeling through me that i despise.

What if I had met Jon another way? What if I had met him at University, or at a restaurant somewhere. How I wish this all could've been different. How I wish that he could simply be that innocent Jonathon that whistled 'pure imagination' on the elevator. Not this doctor. Not this monster.

"I looked up the apartment listing online,"
He says, noticing that my thoughts are elsewhere; assuming I'm thinking about his burglary skills rather than his ability to be a normal college boyfriend.

"I found out where your window was and snuck in. I was simply going to pack you a bag, I didn't have any intention of speaking with your mother."

"So what? She just walked in on a strange man in her daughter's bedroom? Did she call the police?"

Is she okay?

"Well- that's where it gets tricky."

"I heard her coming, and I didn't want to hurt her. So I slipped back out the window. I thought I had enough of your clothes packed; but when I began climbing down your fire escape I realized that I had forgotten your bras."

"Bras?"

"Yeah,"
He says bashfully.

"Looking back- I should've just gone to the store, but figuring out what bra size you wear isn't exactly a part of my PHD."

I shake my head slightly, puzzled, but trying to understand .

"So I went around front. I told her that I was one of your doctors at Arkham and that I had some information regarding her daughter. She buzzed me in. It was a long shot- but it worked."
He says seriously, taking another swig of his morning drink. His face crumples up slightly as he's reached the bottom of his cup.

"These damn motels have the worst coffee."
He says suddenly, dramatically chewing the coffee grounds within his mouth.

"What did you tell her?"
I demand, not allowing him to change the subject.

"Well, I told her you were safe."
He says simply, standing up and walking to the framed mirror hanging by the metal motel door. He begins to tie his tie, wincing slightly as it tightens around the bruised portion of his neck.

I feel a sudden wave of intimacy, unwanted intimacy, but intimacy all the same. It's as if we're playing house. He's tying his tie and getting ready for work, telling me about the events of his previous day and I'm laying in bed, presumably in his Radiohead t-shirt; listening to his ramblings far too intently. I swallow the feeling; despite how comforting it is in the wake of the recent events.

Does he listen to Radiohead?

"Apparently Gotham News had very little coverage on the incident; and instead, have been covering The Batman. She invited me in, we had a beer and she tried to sleep with me."
I should be more shocked; but instead I just laugh; relieved that she's still alive and really hasn't changed.