Too Late
Jonathan sat on the edge of the dingy bed of the old motel room. He had been staying there for almost three days since she had… He paused not wanting to think about her, but found himself unable to think about anyone except her. He looked briefly at the burlap mask that sat on the side table. He could hear the Scarecrow talking to him in his head, but his words had no effect. Not this time. He picked up the mask and tossed it into the trashcan near by, hearing Scarecrows protests screaming in his brain.
"Tell me Scarecrow." Jonathan said as he looked down at the silver object in his hand. "Would Batman stop me?" He asked. "If I did it… would he show up? Out of all the times he's intervened with my plans, disrupted what I do… would he show up now?" He asked. "I mean… it's what he does right? Stops people from doing bad things? He knows everything we're doing. Knows where we're going to be. What's going on inside our little minds. He has to know right?" For once the Scarecrow was silent. "He went to her funeral. I know he was there. He wasn't wearing his mask, but I know he was there. He has to know what I'm thinking right? Cause…" Jonathan paused his breathing increasing for many reasons. Fear, anger, grief, nervousness. A whole list of things. "Cause this is normal right?" He asked. "It's normal for me… I'm normal…" He said.
He stared down at the object in his hands longer playing with the soft smooth metal edges. He paused and lifted his hands to his face a look of confusion over his face as he felt the tears running down his cheek. Crying? He was crying?
"I don't cry." He said more confused than anything. He brought his hand away and looked at the wet surface. He waited a few more moments. "He'll come." Jonathan reassured himself. "He'll help me. I want help now." He said. "I… I need help… I…" He closed his eyes the tears running more freely down his face. "I miss you so much." He said thinking back to the woman he had lost. The only woman who had ever cared about him. "Why didn't he save her?" He asked himself. "Why did he pick me over her?" He looked up at the ceiling angrily. "WHY DID YOU SAVE ME?!" He screamed as the tears got so bad he could barely see. They streamed down over his chin onto his shirt soaking the faded red top.
"You should have saved her." He said quietly. He pulled the gun up to his head, his thin finger on the trigger. He head a loud crash through the window and turned to see a flash of black through his blurry eyes, the gun still too his head. "You should have saved her." He said again his voice… broken. His jaw clenched and he saw the black blur move closer to him at blinding speed. Jonathan squeezed the trigger, the sound deafening him for the fraction of a second before all went black.
((A/N... short little fic I did... I might do a chapter two from Batman's point of view we shall see.... hope you all like. If this one goes anywhere I may write a full series one leading up to the events of this fic... who knows... ))