Sorry QueenCaroline, it's another short one. There's Scarecrow in this chapter though :). I'm glad you like it Calliope Foster. Have you gotten to this chapter yet?
I haven't got the first chapter of that other story up yet cause I forgot to put it onto the floppy. Should have it tomorrow.
P.S. Hope everyone enjoys this cause it's pouring rain and hailstoneing and I fell off my skateboard getting over here cause of the wind! Ok, I like all those things but still :)
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It was night when Bruce returned to Gotham and morning by the time Batman had finished patrolling the city streets. Stripping off the Kevlar suit and changing back into normal clothes he took the lift up from the caves and made his way upstairs. He hesitated a moment outside the door of the guest room before turning the key and stepping inside.
Jonathan was sitting in the centre of the floor, slowly rocking back and forth with a blanket pulled over his head. Carefully approaching, Bruce lifted it off.
Blue eyes stared up at him. "I thought you weren't coming back," he whispered. A second passed. Then, without warning, something changed in the psychiatrist's manner. His eyes focused and a manic grin stretched across his face. "But you've gone somewhere you shouldn't," a harsh frightening voice accused. "Haven't you?" In a flash he jumped forwards and slashed Bruce across the chest with a shard of silvered glass. Grabbing his arm to prevent a further attack, Batman pushed the Scarecrow to the floor. Glancing into the en suit he saw the mirror had been broken. Ignoring that for the moment he turned his attention to the skinny psychopath struggling to escape his grasp. "How did you know that? How do you know where I've been?"
"Laws of the world. Laws of contact. You can't study something without altering it. You can't enter an environment without affecting it." He was still twisting around, trying to get free. "Without it affecting you."
"Answer my question!"
"There's dust on your shoes."
He looked down. So there was.
"Let go of the broken glass."
The Scarecrow laughed. "Or what? You'll fuck me again?" He just gripped tighter, causing it to cut into his palm.
"Shut up," Bruce ordered as Batman stood on Crane's wrist to keep his arm still. Then, prying open his fingers, he took the shard of mirror and placed it in the bin.
"What are you afraid of Bat-man?"
"You're the one who should be afraid," he replied menacingly, the gash in his shirt now bordered by red.
"That's not an answer." He laughed. "You'll have to tell me sometime."
A sharp punch to the side of the head knocked Crane unconscious. "Not today."
