Chapter Fourteen: That Moment Divine

Wedding Guest List
Mother and Daddy
Alexis and Jake
Maxwell and Alice
Fern and Darren

"I was thinking of inviting some of our co-workers," Maria pondered out loud. It had been three months since he proposed to her. They waited until they returned to tell everyone, figuring that it would be better to spend their beach time alone without being interrupted by excited phone calls from relatives. After everyone got over the initial shock, life returned to normal for the most part. Maria returned to work, Jonathan tried to devote more time to his project. However, with his new promotion, he had to take on more responsibilities, so he often had to put aside his experiments to attend meetings or evaluate course curriculums. They hadn't much time to even think about the wedding.

Now, in mid-September, Maria decided that they should begin planning. Jonathan had returned to teaching and working at the Asylum part-time, while she maintained her position at the Asylum. The trees outside took on the rich colors of autumn. Students had been back at school for a month and had fallen back into step with the normal routine. Maria remembered hearing complaints from Jonathan about his "moronic" intro classes. Now, as the head of the department, he pulled himself out of those beginners' classes and placed himself at the head of upperclassmen and graduate courses. Maria noticed an instant improvement in his overall mood.

"I'd like to keep it as small as possible," Jonathan responded before taking a bite of the chicken on his dinner plate.

"All right, no co-workers," she agreed, her voice sunny. "It'll just be my family, then."

"How many is that?" he asked.

"Eight. That's a good size, right?" He smirked.

"I can say all I want, but in the end it's your decision," he replied. She giggled.

"All right, then. And we won't have a big reception or anything. Just dinner at a nice restaurant," she told him.

"Are you sure? I mean…if you want to throw a big party you're welcome to," he said lowly. He personally was never one who enjoyed festivities all too much, but he didn't want to rob Maria of the big wedding reception brides always dreamed of.

"No, it's fine!" Maria answered frantically. "I've never really liked parties. You know how I feel about crowds." There was a hint of a smile on his lips.

"All right, if you insist." She leaned forward a little bit, pushing her face over the table and closer to him.

"The wedding itself doesn't matter to me so much," she said softly. "As long as we're married." She leaned a little more and placed a quick kiss on his lips, then she retreated to her seat. "Then there's the honeymoon. Mother and Daddy said they would pay for it as a wedding gift."

"That's nice of them. Where are you thinking?" Maria glanced at the ceiling for a little while, pondering. She wasn't one who travelled much, so the possibilities for her were endless.

"Let's go to the beach," she said. He smirked.

"We were just there."

"Well…we won't be going until after the wedding, and that's not until next year. I'm sure we'll start missing the beach at some point. We'll take the train in and everything." Just thinking about it made a bright grin form on her lips.

"Sounds perfect," he responded.

Jonathan's favorite day of the week was Friday. He had the day off. Maria didn't. It was his prime working day. Since acquiring his new position, Jonathan cut down his hours of working at the Asylum and now only went there on weekends. He needed at least one day to think about the course of his experiments.

He sat in the living room with his notes and equipment spread across the coffee table. He wanted to test his theory that a gaseous compound would have quicker effects on a subject, but at the moment he lacked the equipment that could heat the chemicals enough to make them evaporate. He considered using their stove, but his fear was that the gas would escape into the apartment. He needed a more closed off environment, a lab.

His eyes were pulled towards the clock. He had plenty of time before Maria would come home. Just a quick step into the lab, a few switches to turn on the equipment, and several harmless minutes. Then he would return to the apartment. The only problem was that he had no access to the labs. He would only have a chance of getting in if he pushed his luck.

After gathering his materials, he stepped into the hall and shut the door. Not many professors had Friday afternoon classes, so the greatest possibility was that the labs were open for graduate research. He walked swiftly and quietly, doing his best not to make much noise in case his neighbors were listening (some of the other young teachers lived on campus as well, but Jonathan and Professor Wilson from the English department were the only ones who lived on the same floor). As he left the building, the chilly breeze made him realize he forgot a jacket. It was too late now, though, so he continued.

The campus was brimming with activity. Gusts of wind sent crisp autumn leaves dancing across the lawn. Trees rattled their branches and slowly stripped themselves of their warm sheets. Students wandered about the green in little pods. Crane spotted couples, friends, teammates. They were all smiling, simply enjoying the day. A blonde head stuck out of the crowd and bobbed towards him. It was none-other than his star pupil, Harlene Quinzelle. It didn't look like she had left anyone behind when she approached him.

"Good afternoon, Professor Crane," she greeted him, a hint of a smile on her lips. That was one way Crane identified with Harlene: they had both forgotten how to truly smile.

"Good afternoon, Miss Quinzelle," he responded, his voice subdued.

"I heard you were engaged," she said, "so I just wanted to congratulate you."

"Thank you," he replied.

"I've never actually seen your fiancée before around campus. Would you happen to have a picture?" she asked. Crane glanced over her shoulder, seeing the natural sciences building just beyond the main green. His hand fell towards his pocket and reached in, feeling for his wallet. He pulled it out and, after placing his briefcase on the ground momentarily, opened it and fished around for a little.

"I should have one," he mumbled. It took him a little bit of time to find it, but eventually he pulled out a snapshot from their beach trip. "We went to Beach Haven during the summer, and that's when we got engaged." He remembered the exact time, day, and circumstances of the photo. It was taken the day they got there at around four o'clock that afternoon. They had decided to go bird watching at the nature sanctuary. As they strolled down a pathway that lead towards the beach, Maria thought that the backdrop was perfect, so she asked the older couple behind them to take a picture of the two of them. They stood close to each other, holding hands, Maria smiling, Jonathan smiling behind stale lips.

"She's beautiful," Harlene commented politely. "You two make a good couple."

"Thank you," he answered as he slipped his wallet back into his pocket.

"Do you have a wedding date yet?"

"I think it's July 7th, or around there."

"July 7th is a lucky date," she remarked. "It's a day for lovers…in China at least."

"I see," he mumbled. His eyes trailed to the science building again. Time was ticking by, opportunities were slipping away with each passing line of small-talk. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Miss Quinzelle, but I'm in a rush…"

"Oh! It's no problem at all! I understand," Harlene replied. "Congratulations again."

"Thank you," he said before picking up his briefcase and continuing on his way.

He stepped into the natural sciences building and ascended to the top floor. The building seemed fairly empty: he only ran into one custodian, and he never worried about them. The top floor was lined with only a few doors on each side of the hall. Behind each door was a laboratory. They were small and usually underequipped, but at this point Jonathan couldn't complain. As long as one of them possessed the things he needed.

At the end of the corridor he found one of the chemistry labs. The lights were off. He tried twisting the door handle which, to his surprise, bent to his will. Slowly he pushed the door inwards. The hinges let out a low whine. He scurried inside and shut the door quickly. The room was lit only by the light coming through the windows on the opposite wall. He decided it would be better not to turn the lights on. He could find his way using only daylight.

He didn't need much, nor did he need to stay long. The first thing he grabbed was a beaker, then a few test tubes, a cork for each tube, and a funnel that perfectly fit through the opening in the test tube. In the back there was a line of built-in hot plates in the counter. Quickly he opened his briefcase and took out a number of liquid compounds, setting them alongside his set-up. He placed the beaker on the hotplate, then he stuck the thinner end of the funnel into the test tube, and finally he capped off the beaker with the wider end of the funnel, holding the test tube upside down above the beaker.
After pouring his first compound into the beaker, he capped it off once more and turned on the hot plate. While it heated up, he slipped a rubber hot hand onto the hand that was holding the test tube. It took a matter of minutes for it to heat up, but soon enough Jonathan spotted smoky condensation on the walls of the beaker. Orange wisps of gas swirled upwards, only to be stopped by the confines of the test tube. The bubbling liquid eventually disappeared, existing only as gas in the test tube. He took a cork, removed and flipped the test tube, and immediately pushed the cork into the tube, sealing in the gas. The gas expanded to fill the tube to capacity. His hope was that the gas could survive in room temperature.

He returned that tube to his briefcase, washed out the beaker and funnel, and repeated the process with another test tube and a different compound. It didn't take nearly as long to evaporate the liquid the second time. The whole time his lips wore the slightest hint of a smile. Soon enough he would experience the joy of horror once more.

It had been a while since he tested his creations on his students. Over summer break he only had access to a few students, the ones who were either trying to graduate early or slacked off during the school year. It would be much more obvious if a few students suddenly went missing for a few hours. That was the bothersome thing with these experiments: he was always sneaking around, always keeping secrets. He would never tell Maria who his test patients were. She would never allow it. She wouldn't understand. Each passing day without experiencing someone else's terror actually made his stomach hurt. His mood was morbid and irritable. He felt like the smallest person in the world. Seeing people scared out of their minds created a certain comfort inside of him. It made him feel stronger and more superior. He was sick, and his experiments were his therapy.

He knew that there was something wrong with him. It was a fact he lived with his whole life. He always felt small and helpless. His abusive grandmother, the kids at school, Sherry Squires, it was their fault for turning him into what he was. It was their fault he became such an abomination to human nature, their fault that the only way he could feel any emotion close to happiness was through hurting people, their fault that he was forced to kill them.

Maria was his only chance for a normal life. He could tell that, deep down, she had been considering leaving. He deserved it, after all. He treated her terribly. He cheated on her with those damned chemicals. But without her, Jonathan knew that he would be lost forever. She was the lighthouse at the head of the island, guiding stray boats towards the Beach Haven. He didn't always follow the path she illuminated for him, but having that path, knowing that he had a choice, was comfort enough. He had to marry her; it was the only way of keeping that light in his life.

"You are cordially invited to the marriage ceremony of Jonathan Crane and Maria DuPont on Wednesday July 7th at 5 pm at the Gotham City Courthouse on Market Street. Following the ceremony, the bride and groom would like to treat their guests to dinner at "Bella Italia" on 5th Avenue. Please RSVP to 555-9315. We will be extremely happy if you are able to attend!"

A big grin formed on Alexis's face when she read the invitation. It was a simple horizontal card. The front was white with cream-colored adornments and the words "You're Invited" printed in silver script. The message was hand-written in Maria's best script. It must have taken her hours to write just one invitation.

"That's so like her," Alexis giggled as she attached the invitation to the fridge with a magnet. After doing that, she slipped on her coat and stepped into her shoes. "I'm going to get the take-out!" she announced. Jake returned with a sound of approval. They had ordered some take-out from an Indian place downtown. She grabbed her bag and left the apartment building.

Downtown Gotham was a long way's walk, so she walked a few blocks until she reached a rail station. It was a Saturday evening. People were dressed up for dates and parties. Alexis suddenly felt self-conscious. She didn't put much care into her appearance before going out. Her gaze fell to her left hand. A diamond ring hugged her ring finger. Jake had proposed to her about a week beforehand. The DuPont family was excitedly getting ready for two weddings. Alexis wanted her wedding to be in December. She was going to get married in the main hall of her parent's home, the one with the huge window overlooking their property. The grounds covered in a blanket of snow was always Alexis's favorite sight. She hoped that snow would fall by then.

She disembarked at the downtown stop and continued towards the restaurant. It was rather crowded when she got there, so she had to push her way towards the hostess to pick up her order. The girl nodded and sent a waiter to the kitchen to pick it up. While she waited, Alexis took in the restaurant. She had never eaten there in person before, but she and Jake liked to get take-out from there from time to time. As she scanned the dining room, she spotted a familiar face. Her eyes widened slightly. He was surrounded by a group of important looking people in fancy suits and dresses. She wasn't sure if she should go say "hello". Her legs forced her to approach the table. She put on her most enthusiastic smile.

"Bruce Wayne, is that you?" she asked, a little too loud and over-enthusiastic. She felt like complete scum. Bruce looked up from his conversation, smiling at her instantly. He seemed to recognize her. Relief rushed over her. An even more embarrassing situation avoided!

"Alexis, it's been a while, hasn't it?" he responded. The last time Alexis saw him was at Fern's graduation (Bruce was also in her class). He hadn't grown since then, but his face looked much more matured, chiseled. It seemed like he had taken into working out, for he was broader in the shoulders and chest than she remembered. "Everyone," he said to the table smoothly, "this is my old friend, Dr. Alexis DuPont." Alexis sheepishly smiled at the group, who all smiled back (some of the women waved) and said faint greetings. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, we'd like to catch up for a bit." He stood up and stepped away, with Alexis following. They ended up near the bathrooms, a dimly lit area that was perfect for talking.

"As smooth and charismatic as always, I see," Alexis commented.

"It's nice to see you again," Bruce responded, a small smile on his lips. "How are things at work?"

"Eh, the usual. Dealing with psychos, filing paperwork, nothing special," she responded. "I assume things are going well with you. It doesn't look like Wayne Enterprises has been massacred." She smirked playfully, remembering that people were worried that Bruce couldn't handle running his family's company.

"Yes, we're doing very well, thank you," he replied. "And what about at home? Are you still dating that skinny guy?"

"No, actually," Alexis answered. "I'm engaged."

"To him? I didn't think he had the guts to propose."

"Oh no, to someone else. Maybe you know him. Jake Fleming? He works at Willowtree Brokers."

"Can't say I've met him. Well, congratulations. When's the wedding?"

"Sometime in December. I'll invite you if you'd like."

"That would be nice. I'd love to meet him and see everyone else again. How is everyone?"

"Good. Maria's engaged too."

"Little Maria? What kind of guy is he?"

"Skinny, bookish…"

"Just like Crane? That was his name, right?"

"Actually…it is him. Jonathan Crane," Alexis said, her voice a little subdued. She could see a small, worried frown curling on his lips. Even though it had been a while since they saw each other, Bruce had a way of being able to read her. Back when they were kids, he attached himself to Maxwell and Alexis because they were older. He analyzed them constantly, following their examples. When they decided to play doctor, he was the nurse. When they decided to ignore Maria, he did so too.

"I see…and you're not comfortable with that?" Alexis stared up at him.

"N-no, I'm really happy for them!" she spat out quickly. "It's just…Jonathan…there's something wrong with him. I knew that there was something off about him when I first met him, but I thought I could handle it. But I couldn't…I just couldn't."

"Alexis, did he hurt you?" Bruce asked sternly, protectively.

"No, he wasn't abusive or anything like that. It's different," she responded uneasily. "And I can see Maria slowly breaking down, just like I did. I stupidly thought that she could handle it. I'm just…I'm so afraid that she'll lose herself…" Alexis stopped herself, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. "Or maybe I'm just overreacting. They seem happy together," she continued, as if she had spoken her thoughts to her friend. Bruce faintly smiled, unsure if he could believe her last statement.

"I haven't seen him in a long time. Maybe I should pay a visit to the university," he contemplated.

"Bruce, don't," Alexis pushed out, stepping closer to him. "I don't want get too involved. It's their life."

"I know, I know, I'm only joking," replied Bruce light-heartedly. Alexis weakly grinned.

"Order 129!" someone called. Alexis whipped her head towards the front and spotted the hostess with a white plastic bag resting on her pedestal.

"That's me," she said, beginning to slip away. "It was nice seeing you Bruce. I'll make sure to get an invitation to you." Bruce nodded, waving goodbye. He didn't return to his table until he saw Alexis leaving the restaurant. The back of his old friend disappeared into the night.

"Fear is one of the strongest motivators in the choices we make. It causes us to suppress our deepest and darkest impulses. For example, my boss isn't treating me very well. He's been ignoring every idea I have come up with, he doesn't listen to what I say, and he hasn't recognized my hard work. I want to burst into his office and let out my frustration on him, say some nasty words, throw a few punches, but my fear of losing my job keeps me from doing this." The students in his class scribbled this down in their notebooks. Crane leaned slightly on his desk, pausing so his students could write everything they needed. When the majority lifted their eyes to the front, he continued.

"Of course, this is only a minor example. I'm sure that every one of you has experienced something like this before. I don't really like using this story because a good amount of people can overcome this fear. Some people have more courage, more gusto if you will. They rationalize that their fear is merely a thought, a possible outcome. There could be a chance that you make your boss see the light. The threat isn't immediate, therefore the fear reaction isn't as strong. However," he reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a black revolver. The students, especially the ones in the front, pushed themselves away instantly at the sight of the weapon, their eyes wide. "If the threat becomes immediate, your sense of fear is heightened. Can anyone tell me what is happening?" He scanned the room. No student dared to raise his hand. They all just stared at him, at the gun. They probably thought he was crazy. He didn't care.

Finally, the blonde girl raised her hand.

"Yes, Harlene?"

"The…gun…i-is acting as a…t-trigger object," she answered meekly, her voice high.

"That's correct. Seeing the gun, the immediate threat, triggers your instinctual senses. You are afraid of being shot, and your instincts tell you to protect yourself." He shifted the position of the gun and pointed it at one of the students in the front. He let out a yelp and curled up in his chair, burying his head. The other students could only gasp and stare. There was a wild gleam in Crane's eye. "Does anyone have the guts to stand up to me? Or is your fear too overwhelming?" His lips twisted into a grin. Shocked silence filled the room. No one dared to speak, to move. They all stared. After the pause, Crane returned the gun to his drawer. "No need to worry, it wasn't loaded," he said casually. His eyes turned towards the clock. They still had about fifteen minutes left of class, but he figured that they all got the point. "All right, class is dismissed."

No one moved from his seat. Every eye was staring meekly at a desk. No one even shifted or fidgeted. They were frozen completely. Crane sat at his desk. Silence was the only thing that filled the void. He glanced up after a period of time.
"Did I not speak loudly enough?" he said sharply. "Class is dismissed." A girl in the back released a flush of tears and sighs. Some of the students glanced over their shoulders towards her direction, but most didn't budge. Harlene had the courage to finally bring her eyes up. She nudged her glasses up her nose a little before hesitantly standing and gathering her books.

Other students copied her example, sheepishly taking their things and stepping towards the door without a word. Crane remained at his desk. The girl's whimpering became louder as she came closer to the front of the room and disappeared once she stepped into the hall. All that remained was silence, accompanied by the echo of the gunshot that could have happened.

"Dr. Long called while you were in the shower," Maria told him. She was sitting on the living room couch with a pad and a pen, jotting down notes for him. He was kneeling beside the coffee table with his chemicals. It was a little after ten at night. Dark circles hung under Jonathan's eyes, the products of his lack of sleep.

"What did he want?" he asked half-heartedly, his eyes focused on his work. She leaned forward a little bit so she could see what he was adding to the Petri dish and jotted the chemical name on the sheet.

"He received a complaint today from Dr. Abrams. She said she heard a girl crying hysterically in your class." She sounded like a mother chiding her young son for doing something wrong, like pushing his little sister or tracking dirt all over his room.

"Saying that the girl was in 'hysterics' is an over-exaggeration," he responded, not taking his eyes off the chemicals for even a split second. Maria stopped writing and looked at him in a blank stare.

"You mean…you did make a girl cry?" she questioned. A swirl of turquoise permeated through the Petri dish, stretching its fingers to the very edges.

"Maria, are you recording this?" he said quickly.

"Jonathan…did you make a girl cry?" she repeated, harder this time.

"We were discussing fear's power over one's emotional state. Sometimes the subject becomes too strong for the students," he responded quickly. "Maria, are you writing this down?" he snapped, glancing at her momentarily.

"Yes, yes, I'm doing it," Maria responded as she scribbled down a few words about the reaction. There was something else that Dr. Long told her on the phone. It was a thought so unbearable that she couldn't bring herself to say it. He would never do such a thing. How could anyone say that he did it? And yet...she was never sure with him anymore. "A-and someone else complained that you fired a gun in class," she added quickly.

"Who said that?" he asked, for once looking away from his work.

"A student, I think," Maria answered nervously.

"Those snot-nosed little…" he muttered under his breath.

"Jonathan!" Maria cried, her eyes wide and teeming with fear. "No…you…you didn't!"

"That was a flat-out lie. The gun wasn't even loaded," he explained coolly.

"But…y-you still had a gun!" she exclaimed.

"I have my methods of teaching. It got the point across," he said.

"Jonathan, you can't point a gun at your students! It doesn't matter if it's for the good of learning. You could have hurt someone, and then what? Your career would have been finished! Everything you've worked so hard to achieve would have been for nothing!"

"I know the consequences, Maria!" he snapped at her. "I'm not an idiot. Believe me, I know exactly what I'm doing!"

"Tell that to Dr. Long. He wants to see you first thing tomorrow," she replied hardly. The oncoming swell of tears was turning her face red and made her throat hurt. She bit her lower lip. "Jonathan…what's going on?" she asked in a wet whisper, unable to look him in the eyes. "What's happened to you?"

He looked at her. It had been a while since he really looked at her. Dark circles hung under her glossy eyes. Her hair was losing its youthful shine, and she hadn't even hit thirty yet. He could see the tension in her shoulders and back muscles caused by bending over patient beds and leaning over chemicals every night. He remembered how tired she was when she came home that night, how hard it was for her to even stand, yet she made dinner and volunteered to help him when she could have been reposing. She was letting her body deteriorate for him.

Sighing heavily, he removed his glasses and buried his face in his hands. His head was pounding. He couldn't tell her. She would think he was a monster. He couldn't tell her that he needed them to be afraid of him. It was the only way he could be in control, the only way he could feel satisfied with himself. Even though he hated making Maria upset, even though it made his heart ache, there was a small twinge of happiness in his stomach. He had successfully made her fear him. He felt utterly sick and strangely giddy. The worst person in the world.

Maria cried for what seemed like hours (it was actually only about twenty-three minutes). Jonathan did nothing to try and stop her. He just let her drain her tears. At least she had the strength to do that. She would wake up the next morning refreshed from a good cry, with all of her troubles momentarily drained. That was a luxury Jonathan could not enjoy.
She was mad at him for not trying to comfort her, but she was also mad at herself for allowing herself to cry so much in front of him. She didn't want her emotional struggles to be his burden. He had enough to deal with. Her silly emotions weren't worth the worry.

When sleep finally came to her, she greeted it with open arms and welcomed it into her home. Jonathan did not try to move her to the bedroom. He placed a pillow on the couch, set her lying down, and draped a blanket over her. Maybe this was her way of stopping his work for the night. After putting away his materials, he changed into his nightwear, performed his nightly hygienic ritual, and grabbed himself a blanket and pillow. There was no room for him on the couch, so he slept on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, his fingers laced in hers. He gently rubbed the engagement ring with his thumb as a way of lulling himself to sleep.

Die…die…die…die…die…die…DIE!

Maria didn't wake up that morning. Jonathan called her in sick. He then wrote a note on a sheet of paper saying that his classes for the day were cancelled. Figuring that it would be a while before Maria woke up, he left the apartment in his nightwear and travelled all the way to the Social Sciences building. It was still quite early in the morning, so early that the sun had just begun to peek over the horizon. The grounds were lit by a soft deep blue hue. It felt like he was being swallowed up by the sky. The grass was wet with dew. When he reached his classroom, he stepped inside and grabbed the gun from his desk, then he quickly tacked the scrawled cancellation note onto his door and rushed back to the apartment. On the way there he tossed the gun into one of the large university garbage bins, making sure to bury it deep. It would be taken to the dump that day. No one would ever know about it.

To his luck, Maria showed no signs of leaving sleep. It gave him a little time to think about what he was going to say, and more importantly what he was going to do. He figured he should start with the simple things. Breakfast. His stomach groaned. He turned towards the kitchen, scanning it for supplies. The coffee pot was ready to brew. After filling it with water and new ground-up beans, he turned it on and let it work its magic. He poked his head into the fridge. Eggs, bacon, vegetables. They never had omelets before. When he was growing up he had to make his own meals, and omelets happened to be one of the few things he knew how to make.

His eyes were always switching towards her (he almost cut himself with the knife multiple times while chopping the vegetables). He wanted to know what she was dreaming about, what her fantasy world looked like. He hoped that he was in it. He wanted to be in every aspect of her life. The imagination is the state of life that we all hope for, the one we truly want. If he wasn't in her fantasy world, if she no longer desired him, then it would all be over. After all, the fantasy world if more true to the individual than reality is. Maria was the centerpiece of his dream realm, the domain he wished he could merge with rigid, unforgiving actuality, science and experiments.

He cracked a few eggs into the frying pan and tossed in half of the vegetables. Reds and greens danced across a sea of yellow. After a couple of minutes or so, he took a spatula and gently flipped over the half-cooked disk, causing the pan to sizzle. His eyes fell towards Maria. She was beginning to stir. He folded the omelet in half and placed it on a plate, then he began cooking the next one.

Maria couldn't remember what she had dreamed about. It couldn't have been about something bad, or else she would be trembling. But it couldn't have been about something really happy, or else she would be smiling. She felt drained when she awoke. The only thing keeping her in the moment was the smell of breakfast cooking.

"Am I making breakfast?" she murmured to herself. She felt around her. No hot stoves, no eggs, no countertops. Instead a pillow, a blanket, and a couch. Her head was pounding. She slid the blanket off of herself and swung her legs over the edge of the couch, holding her head in her hands. After a few moments of pulling herself into reality, she looked at the clock on the wall. It said 8:16. She was missing work. Gasping, she shot out of her seat and ran into the bedroom to change, only to find that she was still wearing her uniform. Jonathan had just finished the other omelet and slipped it onto another plate. He turned off the stove and caught Maria before she could bolt out.

"Maria, it's okay," he said, his voice reverberating like a hoarse, gentle echo in her ears. "I called you in sick. You don't have to go to work today." She stared up at him, with the same doe-like eyes she had the previous night. She shook her head and tried to push herself out of his grasp.

"No, no I need to get to work," she said. He kept his grip tight.

"It's too late now. They're already called someone in to sub for you. If you go it'll cause a lot of confusion. Sit down and have some breakfast," he argued softly. Maria was too exhausted to fight back, but she pushed against him a little, showing the little fighting spirit she had left. She said nothing. He knew that she wanted to escape. He wouldn't let her. As long as she had the ring, there was no way she could possibly escape.

He helped her sit down and slid one of the omelets towards her. She had her hands neatly folded on her lap, her head bowed slightly. He reached into the overhead cabinets and grabbed a couple mugs.

"Would you like some coffee?" he asked. She nodded. He poured two cups and added sugar and milk to Maria's, then he brought the cups to the counter and sat down. She was picking at her omelet. He slid the lighter coffee towards her. She took it and held the cup with both hands, allowing the warmth to permeate into her skin. He took the mug by the handle and took a large sip, allowing the scalding liquid to burn its way down his throat. The temperature of the liquid was always what made him wake up, even though he was wide awake right now. He was tempted to force Maria to drink, to force the hot drink down her throat and through her system. She was dead now and needed to be revived. Maria just didn't work right when she was dead.

They finished breakfast in silence. Jonathan grabbed the dishes before Maria could start cleaning up and put them in the sink, figuring he could wash them later. Maria had left the table and went into the bedroom, haphazardly shutting the door. He entered the bedroom as well, although he used the bathroom door.

The room was dark. He saw Maria by the dresser, removing her nurse uniform and picking through her clothes for something else to wear. She stood there for a long time, naked except for her underwear and a bra, contemplating. It was hard for Jonathan not to stare. She looked much skinnier than he remembered. Her stomach was a hollow, causing her hip-bones to protrude. Her skin had been suctioned to her ribs. Her sternum wasn't well pronounced, but her collarbone was. Her breasts had gotten smaller. Even the fat on her upper legs was beginning to recede.

She pulled out a pale blue silk top and a pair of dark blue jeans. He looked down at himself. He hadn't changed out of his nightwear yet. Figuring he should do that too, he went to the dresser and knelt down to the two bottom ones, where his clothes were located. While Maria meandered away to change into her outfit, Jonathan grabbed a pair of black slacks, a gray collared shirt, and black socks. They changed clothes quickly, in the dark. Maria stood there for a while after changing, lost in her own thoughts. He looked at her. The silky top was loose and billowy. The top had thin straps, revealing her slim arms. The jeans didn't cling to her hips perfectly like they used to. The legs of the pants covered most of her bare feet. She pulled her messy hair out of its ponytail, grabbed a hair brush, and began to battle the tangles. Her hair was quite beautiful when it was brushed out, almost perfectly straight and reaching a little past her shoulders. Her skin was like milky moonlight. He thought she was the most perfect thing in the world.

"Thanks for breakfast," Maria said softly, pulling her hair back into its low ponytail.

"You're welcome," he responded. He sat on the bed.

"Shouldn't you be going to see Dr. Long?" she asked, keeping her distance. She looked at him through his reflection in the mirror.

"It's early," he replied.

"He said he wanted to see you first thing," she stated.

"He means nine-thirty. I still have an hour left," he countered.

"What do you plan on doing before that?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Spend it with you?" he tried. "This could be the last time you see me alive."

"Don't talk like that," she retorted, turning to him. "I'm really scared, Jonathan. About what's going to happen to you."

"Nothing's going to happen to me, Maria," he said. He stood and joined her, standing by her side with their bodies nearly touching. She looked up at him. Their eyes met briefly, then Maria turned into him and pressed her face into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist like a frightened child.

"You could get arrested, Jonathan."

"I know."

"We won't be able to see each other."

"I know."

"I love you." He hugged her tighter.

"I love you too. Nothing bad is going to happen." She looked up at him. Tear drops rested in the corners of her eyes. There was a small wet stain in his shirt.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"I know how to handle this," he said. "You'll just have to trust me on this one." Maria looked straight into his eyes. There was a malicious glow in them. Her stomach curled. She bowed her head, trying to ignore that frightening look.

"Get out of him, whoever you are!" her inner voice yelled at the demon. "Leave him alone!"

"Don't do anything…you'll regret," she answered hesitantly. She felt his lips softly touching her head. They stood there, holding each other, rocking gently to the metronome of their beating hearts. That's all they did until it was time for Jonathan to leave for his meeting. They hadn't held each other like that in a long time. His touch sent tingles playing across her skin. Her touch was warm and soothing like a lullaby. They couldn't stand to be without each other's loving embrace.

The house was decorated with white flowers: lilies, roses, daisies, all white. The bride and bridesmaids got ready in Alexis's old bedroom. The bridesmaids were dressed in spring green. Everyone said that Maria looked the best in the dress because of her eyes. She shyly thanked them and helped her sister with her hair. Fern was in charge of lacing Alexis into the corseted dress, while Erica, Alexis's maid of honor, did her make-up.

"Lexi, you're beautiful," Erica said with a big smile.

"Only with your help, Erica," Alexis responded, her voice riding on a laugh. She winced at the end of her laugh as Fern pulled one of the strings tightly.

"Can you breathe okay, Lex?" Fern asked.

"Yeah, just fine," Alexis replied. Maria took a pin and tucked some strands of stray hair into Alexis's high bun. A placid smile curled on her lips. She reached behind her and found the veil, which was attached to a small tiara that had comb teeth in the back. Carefully she slid the comb into the bun, allowing the light gossamer veil to drape over the bun and down her back. She imagined herself in the same position. Yet she knew that she wouldn't be. Her wedding was going to be much simpler. Her dress wouldn't be as fancy. Their venue was the Gotham City Courthouse, not the flower-decked main hall of her parents' house. She wouldn't have any bridesmaids, not even a maid of honor. There wouldn't be nearly as many guests as there were at Alexis's wedding. Maria didn't mind, though. She liked things simple.

She wondered how Jonathan was doing. She had left him sitting towards the front with the rest of the immediate family. Hopefully things weren't getting too awkward for him. Soon enough the wedding would be over and, after the first dance at the reception, she could join him again.

The ceremony went by faster than Maria imagined. The wedding march seemed long and drawn out, so she expected the entire ceremony to be full of long-winded, traditional conducts, like reading verses from the Bible and such (not that her family had been very religious in the first place). The ceremony was somewhat of a blur to her (she could barely remember the vows, but she distinctly recalled shedding a tear when her sister spoke her half). Maria could only imagine herself in Alexis's place, and Jonathan standing where Jake was, saying their wedding vows, proclaiming their love. In time she would have that beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime moment.