Jonathan's life story is based from the show Gotham. Rachel knew that he and his father had a difficult life but never knew the WHOLE story. Over the course, she will. :)

Chapter Four

Giving into the Doctor's Demands

He felt like if he didn't hurry, he would lose Rachel definitely. He slipped into the elevator and pulled his mask off, fishing the keys out again and putting them into the lock again, then pushed the button for the first floor. Someone would see them if they took the front door, and he had to get her through a back alleyway so they could sneak to his car in the lot.

Relax, you'll give her the antidote soon.

She'll be the first. None of the patients before Falcone ever got it, not that they are suitable for release back on the streets anyway. At least Rachel was right about them being off the streets; I wish she understood that.

Oh, she will, soon. We'll make her see it in no time.

But not tonight. Tonight is just me having her all to myself.

Scarecrow backpedaled. Whoa, whoa, what do you mean "all to yourself"? I thought it was you AND me.

Jonathan smiled as he picked Rachel up and carried her in his arms; it brought him back to their wedding day after they exchanged their vows and he carried her in front of all their friends, coworkers and her small family. Her laughter, her smile...made him feel like a man that he thought he would never become. He wasn't one to ask himself what happened then, but he knew what it was. It was him. He had been the cause of it, but he was dedicating his life to the study of the brain and its darkest canals, but she didn't understand that. She didn't understand he was working for a cause that he was looked down on.

His father had been the one to begin the first chapter of the story of his life. His father who had been the cause. After the death of his mother when he was eight, in a house fire that Gerald Crane could not save her from, resulting in his worst fears come alive and that was failure. Young Jonathan remembered how his own father went mad after that, seeking to cure his own fear, resulting in harvesting of adrenal glands for his experiments - but even that was something Jonathan never took to his own as an adult - as the main compound factor. Gerald's victims had been killed in the end, a primal desire Jonathan had resisted from time to time.

Everything came to an end when Jonathan was eighteen, when his father was caught by the police and shot, but he had told them that he didn't know anything about what his father was up to; Gerald had experimented on his own son when he was sixteen, the memory of Scarecrow coming for the first time being too terrifying to imagine...but that came out good when it came to the school bullies who taunted him for his clothes and frame, and lifestyle. His father had been the high school's biology teacher, which was another addition to the beatings. It had all begun since the death of Karen Crane.

Can we stop with the past now and think about the present, Jonny? Your girl's in need of help.

"Hold on, Rachel," he said as he noticed how the shaking began to subside, but it was still there. Her eyes were closed now, and she was still breathing, shallow as it was. She hadn't screamed again - or should he say, not at all since she fell in the elevator, which slightly angered him. "Don't you dare leave me now."

He had finally burst through the door so the lot was before them, and his black Hyundai was waiting for them. He brought her over and let his hand go of her to open the right door in the back, setting her down in there and then closing the door to run around and jump into the driver's seat. Just a little longer...

She was still unconscious but whimpering by the time they finally arrived at his apartment. He carried her all the way up three flights of stairs without his legs running out of energy, unlocking his door and kicking it open to show his home in the Narrows. With no time to lose, he marched for his bedroom and gently laid the limp Assistant DA on the elegant comforter, and stared down at her.

You know, vulnerability is not a bad look for her.

Indeed. He looked her over, taking in her wonderful figure he remembered, few nights seeing it all as it was in two years of being tied to her, and feeling a tinge in the pit of his stomach. Just looking at her, on his bed, in her current state made him feel like he was burning again with power - the same power he had over those he studied in the basement, and over Falcone. Shaking it off, Jonathan quickly left Rachel on his bed to head to his desk to pull out a syringe filled with the antidote to counteract the toxin. Kneeling down, he stuck the needle into her forearm and injected the clear liquid.

So, what now? his alter ego asked.

Jonathan ignored him and rose to his feet. He gave the unconscious, now stable girl a look over again. There was a part of him that wanted to just go ahead and have his way with her this way; however, the other part insisted on leaving her alone until she was awake. He wasn't a rapist.

How about this, Jonathan? Why don't we just prepare her for when she wakes? Scarecrow suggested.

The suggestion caught him off-guard. What?

Why not? You obviously brought her here for a reason. And if you want my opinion, dress her up for the occasion, get yourself ready, and then set this place up for her stay here. She'll learn to understand you again, and she won't be able to leave you again.

Jonathan was at a loss for words. He continued to stare down at Rachel's inert form, and his conscience took over. This didn't feel right, violating her privacy while she was unconscious; they used to be married, and that warranted a conversation if she woke anytime soon. Oh, please, spare the morale lecture, Jonathan. Go ahead. Take something off her, his other half urged.

Jonathan sighed heavily. He had to might as well go ahead and give in.

He reached out and gently raised her arms over her head so it'd be easy for him to slip off that purple sweater that hugged her slender body. He was then greeted by the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her round, supple breasts were revealed to him, the pert, pale rosy buds with the matching areolas erected, much to his surprise. Well, well, well, he thought, pleased. Seems like she can't keep it in.

He wasted no time in quickly pulling the skirt down and yanking it off from around her ankles. Woo hoo, Scarecrow whistled. Lookie here; your little housewife is wearing a black G-string. This is the highlight of the night.

Ex-housewife - scratch off her being always in the kitchen. Jonathan ignored his taunting other half and continued to stare at Rachel's half-nude body. He was beginning to feel the blood rush to his lower anatomy. He bit back a groan. No woman had ever made his body react this way other than her. No third part to make him second-guess afterwards.

However, he could not resist reaching out with one hand…and grasping her right breast, fondling it gently.

This time he really groaned, feeling the soft, squishing flesh beneath his palm, the nipple pressing against him like a rose bud getting ready to bloom. He felt himself twitch in the nether regions of his pants. God, he couldn't deny it any longer that he wanted her.

His darker self, not Scarecrow's doing, began to control the rest of his body's desires.

You have to want me in return, Rachel. Whether the word love is used tonight or not, we are still drawn together like a magnetic field. I'll never stop until I get you to say those words to me - and then you're mine again like you used to be.

~o~

"You still love me. You don't hate me as you say you do."

She thrashed beneath those smooth hands roaming over her body. She was naked, feeling violated even though he hadn't gone further than the use of his hands. She lay on a cold slab, her eyes squeezed shut and unable to open, unable to look up and see her tormentor. "No," she ground out, gritting her teeth together. "I HATE you. I stopped loving you a long time ago."

The voice - his smooth, mellow accent mingled with a diabolical hiss she didn't know - leered in her senses. "You're lying, and you don't hide it well. Your mind has been opened by my hand, and your body says it all." His fingers curled inward, but she no longer felt smooth nails, but jagged lines at the tips of his fingers and brought the vibrations through her nerves; she was unable to stop the whimper that escaped. "Yes, that's it. I want to know more, feel more - and for you to do the same."

She shook her head as she tried to break free from him, but he held her down, his hands trapping her wrists and slamming them on either side of her head. His body slid between hers, naked as she was...but his felt like a rough network of stitchery in all sorts of places, hardly even human. "No, don't make me do this. I don't want this anymore; this isn't right."

"Right and wrong does not apply; have you ever ONCE considered it was in-between, or nothing at all? That you should not deny what's good for you?" She felt his teeth against her throat, biting and bruising and kissing all in one that the feeling made her cry out, and one of his hands grasping her side and working up in a pattern until it came to grasp her breast. "I never gave you this kind of treatment before, have I? Don't refuse to answer me, or I'll force you."

"You wouldn't dare -!" But she was helpless to fight him; he growled and laughed in one, pinching her nipple and making her sob. He seemed to enjoy her cries of despair; he had showed her his dark side she'd seen in his eyes that had threatened to escape during their soft nights in bed...and guiltily, this felt even better than they did.

"Answer me."

"No, you didn't," she relented, hating herself.

He laughed again, leaning down and bringing his mouth to her breast, and her screams were louder and painful to her ears but music to his.

~o~

Darkness had her under its domain, its cold and unfeeling grasp holding her as it allowed her deepest fear and longing to come forth from the deepest pit of her mind. It was like she felt his body on top of hers - only at the same time, it wasn't him, but the dark side that she was beginning to meet - felt him kiss and ravish her body with his tantalizing and forbidden touch...it felt wrong and so wonderful at the same time because it made her realize she MISSED his touches and kisses...

NO! He drugged you and raped your privacy! He's not the man you fell in love with -!

Her body and her mind were both fighting against each other, because when Rachel slowly came to, she opened her eyes to find herself staring at a dim but warm gold ceiling, the faint lights of candles around her. She was lying on a beautiful bed with a blue-and-beige jacquard comforter. Where was she?

Rachel sat up with a gasp, seeing that her purple sweater, black skirt and boots were replaced with a scandalous black lace garter and camisole set. The sides and the undergarment covering the top of her thighs was sheer, revealing skin and the most valuable part of her body - it was her old lingerie set.

Jonathan! He'd not only drugged her, but he redressed her in the old set she'd worn on...their wedding night!

What is this, a new sick game?!

She was at his apartment. The room wasn't all that furnished, save for shelves filled with books and music pieces; he'd made himself at home as a bachelor ever since she packed her bags and brought up the divorce papers. And the mahogany wood nightstand beside her had a vase filled with red and pink oriental lilies, one of her favorites. She wanted to sneer that he was dreaming if he thought he could charm her with her favorite flowers, but - he remembered.

Her mind was shouting at her that she was out of her mind, having wild hallucionations about her ex-husband, a psychopath now that she could call him that - or was it sociopath? A psychopath functioned well with society and took years of planning what they wronged against others. And a sociopath...

Doesn't work well with others, lives on the down low, and snaps whenever they want.

She curled upwards and into herself, wrapping her arms around her head, trying to block out the memory of her deranged ex-husband ravishing her in a way he never did before, which had felt even better than two years of rush and tenderness.

Damn it, girl, you know who - WHAT - he really is, so why are you even thinking about him like this? You should get out of here before he...!

"Aw, come now, no need to cry."

She jumped and slid back further into the bed until her back hit the wall at the shadowed figure in the doorway leading into this room, despite the barely bright light of the candles. "Jonathan, you sneaky son of a bitch!" she yelled, trapped but strong as stone. "You - you poisoned me! You drugged me and kidnapped me!"

His lean form was hidden in the shadows of the doorway, but his face had submerged, showing that arrogant smirk of his. "Because you got too close, Rachel. I did what I had to do."

"So, you drug me and redress me?!" She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs to cover herself up, nevermind this piece of the past was something familiar between them. "Why did you even bring me here?"

"If I didn't, you'd have lost your mind by now because of me. I do apologize for that - would this make up for it?" With that, he stepped in and showed that he was completely naked. She gasped and quickly turned her face away, closing her eyes. He tsked repeatedly at this, and not long later, a weight shifted the bed, and he was in front of her. "You don't like this? I recall you used to."

"That was before I found out who you were!" she spat, swinging her hand out and striking him in the face when she felt his hand touch her cheek. He reeled back, snarling and rubbing his face. "Don't touch me!"

"That wasn't nice."

"That's the point!"

His hands seized her wrists and pulled her towards him, onto her knees, stronger than she was, and his mouth was on hers, forcing her to submit to him now that he had her, the two of them alone together, and she was helpless. Rachel hissed and sighed against him, fruitlessly trying to pull her hands free, but he pinned them to her sides and rubbed his body against hers, bare skin against black lace which felt strange and dangerously arousing at the same time. Feeling this, Jonathan purred and rumbled against her mouth, satisfied that she stopped struggling. He was the master here, which she hated him for but had to endure whether she liked it or not.

Jonathan ended the kiss then. "Are we going to be good now, if you don't want anything...unpleasant to happen?" She nodded, and he smirked. "Good." He released her hands then, but she couldn't move. "What's the matter, afraid of what would happen with what you want to do next?"

She glared into his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, you seem to like this new form no matter your denial. I made the mistake a long time ago of never once asking you if you wished to experiment. I was too busy to even consider the possibility."

"You were so busy instilling fear in people who looked up to you - now you took the final step with me, your wife," she hissed, and instantly realized her mistake when she did not say ex in the word.

"You didn't say ex," he noted. "That was a first. It makes me think you're starting to forgive me."

She gasped and looked into his piercing eyes. "No, I'll never -!" He cut her off and put his hand over her mouth, shushing her.

"Yes, you are. You didn't understand me then, and you have to now. You didn't see the purpose of my experiments, and I see you still don't. It's all to understand the most powerful of human emotions, from the deepest caverns of the subconscious...like with you." His hands were grasping her thighs, holding her into place, his fingernails digging into her skin enough to make her cry out a little, and her hands flew to his shoulders to grasp for dear life. Jonathan leaned forward and was kissing and licking the tops of her breasts, but she couldn't pull away. "It was what my father began, although when I lost my mother, it was his worst fear of failure coming to life. He went off to cure himself of it, even used me as his guinea pig when there were times he couldn't find a test subject - and that was the starting point of my destination."

Rachel fell back onto the bed, his hands releasing her. The shocking truth revealed beyond what she knew about Jonathan's mother dying when he was a boy, long before he met Rachel, his strange father who taught the biology class they shared for three years...Gerald Crane was the crazy one. He'd started everything, testing his own child, but what differed between Dr. Crane and his son?

Jonathan saw her face and knew what she was thinking. "I'm afraid I don't have the time to give you all of the details about my father's responsibility for my 'behavior'."

She scowled at him. She wanted to spit that his father was responsible for this, but it was also Jonathan's choice to take the other way opposite Gerald Crane in studying fear instead of curing it. In her experience, fear was the paralysis that kept you from moving forward, something the criminals instilled in the innocent every day. To know head physician of Arkham Asylum, Jonathan Crane, was doing that in his patients - and criminally insane ones, at that - was worse because it was not approved publicly, conducted in secret. Illegal.

"Well, quiet. That's another first from you tonight, which has thus far helped me understand you in return...my love."

He was leaning over her now, his nude form over hers, hand hiking up her smooth thigh and latching onto the strap of her garter. Something in her snapped. How DARE he call her "love"? He hadn't called her that since - "Rachel, it would be easier if you stopped fighting me; you're here in my apartment - the apartment we used to share before you abandoned me out of fear and revolt - and you have nowhere to run, which means I have all the strings to pull to make you understand. My fear toxin didn't only expose you to your greatest fear from your intelligent little mind, it made you confess the most important thing in the world. You love me. You never stopped loving me. You were all that mattered to me, you were always there with me even when my father warped my life, promised that you would never leave me no matter what I did...but you broke your word, Rachel. I'm not the only one who ruined our marriage."

She whimpered when his hand abandoned her thigh and went higher, stroking her through the gauzy underwear which was becoming moist with herself. "You hated me controlling you, but I had reason to. That is in my nature, simple as that. I want to be the one to walk you through it, to show you the world is not simply two-sided as you thought it was, and I want to make up for the lost times by giving you more than you had before...even if that means taking us both far from Gotham as possible. Away from the filth you are fighting an outkill battle with, and me away from the hypocrites who stunted me."

Her inner muscles clenched even though he didn't slip a finger inside; she leaned back against the surface of the bed and moaned when he massaged her playfully and skillfully. "So, what will it be, Rachel? You accept my offer and take me back so we can be together the way we were before...or do you want me to make you another test subject in Arkham's basement?"

No, no - no, I don't want you again! You took my heart and shattered it into millions of pieces! You took everything from me and gave me nothing back; I won't let you -! Jonathan Crane was corrupt, amoral, and he was the thorn in her side. He was getting his revenge against her - but they were equal on the heartbreak level. His voice in her ear was making it worse, building her arousal to flames.

"Give in, Rachel. I have you in the palm of my hand. Lose yourself to me now."

The single word escaped her mouth against her control.

"Yes..."

~o~

Bingo! You got her!

"Say it again," Jonathan said, grinning with triumph, increasing the strokes with his notorious precision. Yes, notorious. I'm known for it.

"Yes." Her voice was strained with conflict. She was here in his bed, him atop her, and he was dominating her every will. She had surrendered to him with all her might broken down. She might no longer be thinking straight, for all he knew, because of his hand stroking her inner parts, igniting her core. "Jonathan...don't stop."

"What else do you want me to do, my little flower?"

"Make me yours...again. But don't be slow and gentle, make me wait. Do it now, do it rough." Suddenly, her hands seized him by his hair, tugging firmly and holding him in place. Her eyes were suddenly fierce, and he thrilled in it; he'd made her into a wild cat in just one touch. "Get right on it now, you sadistic son of a bitch. You're doing this to me, so be a man and finish your responsibility."

Her slight insult to his pride made Jonathan growl and lean down to bite her on the neck enough to bruise and make her cry out. "Oh, you vicious little she-devil, you see what you're doing to me in return?" He lifted his body up a little and looked down to show her his obvious desire. She gasped. "Yes, this is what you haven't seen and felt in a long time - same as I. I want you as much as you want me."

She elevated herself up so she pressed against him, giving him the chance to reach behind and unto the laces of her corset as he had on their wedding night and a few times after she wore this thing - when she'd packed, she'd somehow forgotten about this that Jonathan could not throw it out, for it still smelled and felt of her, and was pleased it still fit her after all this time - and pulled the top down to expose her creamy breasts. Sitting up, he pulled the garment down to show the rest of her abdomen and leaving her in the G-string he'd left but attached with the garter; that was gone, too, exposing her female anatomy completely. He'd felt how hot and molten she was; she wanted him so much it was hurting now.

Without further a due, he thrusted into her.

She howled in both pain and pleasure, sure to penetrate the walls and reach any neighbors, but neither of them cared. It was finally happening; Jonathan groaned as he was sheathed inside her again for the first time in a long time. Rachel...his Rachel...was his all over again. After tonight would be more to come; this was only the first step of bringing her into his world. She'd seen enough at Arkham, she'd tasted his creation and experienced what he devoted and studied, and his bed was the end of the first step. He savagely pounded into her at her insistence, the controlled and proper Assistant District Attorney gone and replaced with a fierce feline, snarling and clawing at his shoulders and back, scratching enough to leave marks and draw blood. Jonathan - and Scarecrow - hissed with the same sensations she did, pain and pleasure combined.

He arched his head backwards as he hit that sensitive spot. "Jonathan, right there!"

"As you...wish!" He continued to hit that spot and speed up her incoherent cries, but his own were stifled deep in his own throat, his hands grasping her hips as he rode her, flesh smacking against flesh, the little blood streaks leaking down his back in slivers and his body throbbing, but owning her body once again. This...this was how it should have been during their marriage, and it should have lasted. Should never have ended after just two years.

No matter. He would make up for that, and perhaps they would get married again someday soon.

Her legs were spead on either side of him, not bothering to wrap around and hold him close, but losing their control and opening herself more to him, giving him more access. Jonathan groaned when he looked down at the erotic sight in front of him: Rachel's beautiful body was glimmering with sweat, her breasts heaving up and down with each pound and each breath she took, just taking her by force and without a worry. She gave herself willingly after so many resists; her muscles contracted around him, her essence covering him and waiting for him to come off the cliff...

And then it happened, exploding like a volcanic eruption. Jonathan threw his head back and roared like a beast, without Scarecrow's help, as he felt himself erupt inside her, growling as he emptied himself to the last drop. Oh, God, that was... He couldn't think straight, and collapsed on top of her, panting heavily and burying his face into her neck, her hair damp as her skin was, her heartbeat as erratic as his was. How delicious - and how perfect.

"Jonathan," was all she could say. He couldn't bring himself to raise his head just yet, still trying to catch his breath. "Thank you."

She was thanking him. Thanking him for what? He never expected her to say those words, because they were not strangers. They were just getting to know each other again, but there was no need for anymore discussion, not tonight -

And then it was all interrupted, against both of their wills, for the door was kicked open and in swarmed a SWAT unit who filled their sanctuary and invaded the bedroom right away. Both he and his lover were still unclothed and sweating when he was yanked away from her, dragged across the floor and out of his home...and away from her.

Much thanks to the no longer present "On the Brink of Control" for the rough but passionate sex between these two characters. I remember being on fire just reading that, how she gave in to his "demands" when he's the master here, pulling the strings and having her in his grasp, making her lose control so easily - but also being loving and caring in his own way. That's sexy. Creepy, twisted, but sexy. ;)

But sadly it was tragically cut short. :( Unfortunately, it seems that since because the Batman had followed Rachel, he hadn't found what happened to her in the basement, but I think he tipped off Gordon who had the SWAT find Dr. Crane's home. "Promises and Threats" hit a similar mark after Jonathan took Rachel back home to save her, but unlike here, nothing inappropriate happened. This story has SOME similarities, but not the same, so if slytherin-until-I-die sees this, I thought you should know.

Everything is fast and furious, but I'm happy with the pace. :)