Chapter 37: The Lunatics...
Rebecca looked up at him, sharply. She stared at him. For a moment, Crane wondered whether she had heard him over the constant nattering in her mind, but then she shook her head, "What are you talking about."
"Nurse Werner is dead." He repeated, calmly, slowly.
She just looked at him. Then she shook her head again, "You're wrong. You're lying."
"Which is it?"
"You're lying."
"Why would I lie to you, Rebecca?"
Anger burned across her face and she bounded to her feet, "Because you're insane! Because you're trying to trick me! Because..." she hesitated. She looked at him. "No." her voice was quieter now. Uncertain. "No, you're lying. You have to be lying. You must be."
"And why is that?"
She turned her back, sharply, swearing viciously under her breath. Crane watched her with interest. Her anger seemed to be continuingly dissipating and then returning again with a vengeance, her schizophrenic paranoia not allowing her mind to disregard his words, no matter how much she wanted to. He had never seen her this changeable before. Perhaps she couldn't see that she was slipping slightly.
"Why would you say that." She murmured, distractedly, pacing a little, before turning on him again, "Why would you say that?"
"Because I thought you needed to know." He replied, evenly.
"You thought I needed to know?" She burst out, fury and outrage burning through her voice, "Bullshit! You want... you want to..." she visibly fought with the words for a moment, and then shook her head, turning her back, moving away to brace her weight down on her hands on a nearby desk.
Crane watched her rigid shoulders shake, her body heaving with every heavy breath. He paused, watching her, staying silent. Any moment now...
The girl's head moved to the left, her black eyes tracing the floor for a moment before closing, "She's dead. Werner's dead. She's dead."
"Yes, she is." He replied, calmly.
Rebecca paused for a moment. Then she shook her head, opening her eyes again, "But... but the last thing I said to her... was..."
"She told me to get away from her. She said... 'get the fuck away from me, get out.' Word for word."
The memory was clear in Crane's head. He knew just how the nurse had felt about that particular conversation. It was still a sore subject even after a full two months.
"How... how did she..."
He glanced up. She'd managed that question rather well, considering the topic. He paused, and then shook his head, "The press article said she drowned."
This seemed to perk her attention. She looked at him, frowning, and turned back, "Drowned? But she... she was terrified of water, she wouldn't have..." She stopped, realisation hitting quickly. She stared at him. "You. You did this. You killed her."
He shook his head, calmly, "Miss Wells, though it is true I saw Nurse Werner on the day of her accident, she left here in a perfectly satisfactory condition. She was late, she left in a hurry for one thing or another, and she cut a corner in her car and swerved. The police found her four-by-four at the bottom of Westgate Lake."
Rebecca took an angry step forwards, "She was a fantastic driver! You killed her, and then you dumped her body in the lake."
"I assure you..." he said, delicately, "I did not so much as touch her."
This time she caught it immediately, and took another step forwards, "You. You did not so much as touch her. You didn't. Of course you didn't." she paused, and then shook her head, "He told me you were weak. That you didn't have the stomach to do what needed to be done, and he was right, wasn't he?" she was stumbling, her breaths quick and shallow, and he could see her eyes start to shine with unshed tears, "You couldn't even do it yourself, could you?" her anger was dissolving again, and she could no longer hold the tears back, holding herself admirably even as they flowed down her cheeks, "You couldn't even... You couldn't even kill her yourself. So you sent your dog to do it for you." She put up a hand to cover her face, breathing hard and sharp, her whole body shaking, "And now she's dead. She's dead. You let him kill her."
Crane watched in silence as she cried. After a while, though, he found his eyes shifting inexorably onto the tears sliding down her face, and knew he didn't have long.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
She glanced up at him, bitterly, so wilful, even now. "What. Cry?"
"Yes."
"Why."
He thought for a moment. Then he gave her a small, soft smile, "Because it's getting very hard to hold him back."
She looked at him. As much as she hated to admit it, it was obvious which side of the doctor she preferred. She raised a shaking hand to her face and wiped away her tears, quickly, attempting to swallow all signs of her pain, her fear. She looked at him, straight, trying to lock her emotion down, but she was trembling, shivering under his fixed stare, and every breath she took was harsh and shaky.
Crane could feel that his eyes were going dark, and he smiled at her, slowly, "Nope. That didn't help either."
He'd done this many times. On most occasions it had been easy, a simple slip back of the consciousness; a little unsettling, perhaps, but hardly unnerving. On other occasions Scarecrow had forced himself through, took advantage of a second's lapse and seized control with brute force. Those instances were less... comfortable... but at least they were usually quick. Like pulling a Band-Aid off a wound, or getting a sharp blow to the head.
He could already tell that this push was going to be hard to resist.
"Crane?" her voice was hesitant, scared. "No. Don't. Crane?"
"I said you had something for him." Crane felt the words come from his mouth, knowing them not be his, "Seems it goes even deeper than I thought, right?"
"Crane." She tried again, her voice almost pleading now, "Please. Don't."
That pushed him over the edge. Crane closed his eyes, easily, and let Scarecrow take control.
"Crane." Rebecca repeated, backing off a step.
He clicked out his neck, rolling it to each side before stretching out his shoulders. Then he smiled at her, "Now, honey. If we're going to do this properly, you're supposed to scream out my name. It's only polite."
She looked at him for a long time. "Scarecrow." Her voice shook.
He laughed, and deftly moved over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Oh, come on, darl, I think you can do better than that."
The girl yanked back, "Don't touch me, don't!"
He caught her hand, and then the other as she attempted to hit him, "Hey. Hey hey hey, shh." He waited until she stopped struggling, and then smiled, "It's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you."
"Really." She replied, sarcasm sharp in her tone, "It's a sin to lie, Doctor Crane."
He nodded, thoughtfully, "Then I've performed lots of sins, Rebecca. But I'm not lying now."
She gave a bitter laugh and then pulled out of his grip again, "The boy who cried wolf, I don't believe you!"
He smiled at her again, "Still quoting scripture?"
She laughed again, "It's Aesop's Fables. And I bet Crane's now furious. Not really all that surprised myself, you don't hit me as a hell of a reader."
Scarecrow looked at her. Truth be told, the good doctor had seemed a little perturbed at that one little mistake, but at the moment he seemed more concerned at the situation than literature. Supressing his 'feral nature' was all that he seemed to care about at the moment, and it seemed he was failing.
"That's right, sweetheart," Scarecrow said, managing to keep his voice level, "Not much a fan of either, really, to tell the truth."
"That's surprising." She cut back, scathingly, shaking her head with disgust.
His fists tightened a little. Then he forced them to relax, forced up a smile, "Really? I thought you'd like fables." He put his hand on the wall beside her, and then onto her hair, "You seem the type."
She pulled back again, sharply, "I told you not to touch me."
"And I told you I wasn't going to hurt you."
"But..." her eyes flittered over his, angry, furious, scared, but mostly... confused. "Why?" she managed, finally.
He shook his head, making his movements in her hair soft and gentle, "What would hurting you accomplish, Rebecca?" she just glared at him, and he sighed, "I appreciate we've had our differences -"
"You killed Werner." She interrupted, shaking with anger and grief, "You killed her."
He hesitated, and then nodded, "I know."
She shook her head in disgust, "Then we have nothing to talk about."
Scarecrow looked at her.
This is not going to work, Crane! He said, angrily, his patience easily growing thin.
Give it time. The doctor replied, curtly, You know it'll work, you've just gotta give it time.
He paused again, thinking quickly. Then he shook his head, pulling away from her of his own accord, "I'm sorry."
Rebecca completely froze, staring at him with an emotion he couldn't decipher. "You're what?"
Well, that hit a chord... I've got her. "I'm sorry."
The girl yanked back, backing away a few steps, shaking her head, "Don't say that. Don't even think that, you're not sorry, you don't care. Worse, you loved it, don't you dare tell me otherwise!"
"I am sorry, Rebecca." He persisted, taking a step towards her as she moved back, "Nurse Werner's death was a... tragic necessity. If I could have avoided it I would."
"Bullshit!" she snarled, ferociously, "You killed her because you're you, that's what you do!"
"No, Rebecca." He took another step forwards and she surged back, but she didn't notice the table behind her and full-on smashed her elbow back onto the corner.
She fell back with a yelp of pain, followed by viciously muttered curses, grabbing her arm and wincing at the pain. Scarecrow wanted to laugh, but instead forced an almost Doctor-Crane-like frown onto his face, injecting it with a heavy dose of concern, "Oh, honey, you hurt yourself? Hit your funny bone?"
She glanced up at him, but not in time to pull back as he took her arm, firmly but gently, pulling her a little closer. "You know what that is? It's the ulnar nerve, getting trapped between the bone and the skin. It's the largest unprotected nerve, so it's pretty easy to catch." His eyes moved over her with the best imitation of concern he could muster, "You okay? Huh? Come here. Let me make it better."
He moved his hand down to her elbow, managing to ignore the slightest whimper from the back of her throat, and, moving carefully, he pressed down a little where Crane instructed him. He saw the pain leave her face, but not the fear, and gave her a small smile, "Better? There we go. That's better, isn't it?"
"Scarecrow, what the fuck are you doing." She managed, her voice strangely thick, as if strained. She was trying to regain control. How sweet.
Gentle. Crane reminded him, and he nodded, and then released her arm, slowly, simultaneously moving so their faces were an inch apart.
Rebecca cringed back into the wall, but kept her eyes fixed on him, and there was a caution like he'd never seen buried inside of them, "What are you... what are you doing?"
He paused. His eyes moved down to her lips, but he didn't make a move.
God damn this bitch. This better fucking work.
He moved closer to her, slowly, until he could feel her breath on his skin.
"Stop it." she said, weakly, shaking her head, slowly, "Stop it."
He ignored her, and, almost thoughtfully, placed a hand on her cheek.
She flinched backwards, but fear seemed to keep her frozen in her place, so he moved more, light fingertips stroking across her jaw line, his other hand rising to caress her neck.
He leaned closer, closer to her lips, and his instinct was to bite, but - somehow - he resisted, along with the urge to put pressure on her gorgeous neck, instead pressing his lips gently onto hers and trailing his fingers across the line of her throat, able to feel her pounding pulse even with this light contact.
Something in his stomach twisted, tightened, and he smiled, breathing onto her skin, "You... are so beautiful."
She was wearing a thin, white blouse. God knew why, it was hardly something the nurses would've bought her, and didn't seem like her usual top-and-jeans fashion. She still had the blue jeans, though.
Scarecrow moved his hand down from her shoulder to her chest, and slowly popped open the first few buttons.
Little Rebecca was shaking, shivering, feet locked into place, eyes fixed on his, too scared to move. "Scarecrow -"
The knock on the door startled both of them, Rebecca jolting her head toward the sound while the Scarecrow cursed under his breath. He looked back at her. She hadn't noticed, and now was frozen, staring at the door.
"Doctor Crane?"
The voice - middle-aged, female, familiar. Scarecrow paid little attention to the comings and goings of all Crane's little lackeys, but he recognised this voice easily.
He smiled. The door had been propped open, he remembered Johnny-boy doing it, but only a foot or so, and the way they were positioned now put them completely out of sight.
Little Becky was looking at him again. She'd recognised the voice too.
Slowly, he manoeuvred her around, moving her further into the room, while he backed away around the corner that gave him cover.
He met her eyes again and smirked, and held a single finger in front of his lips.
Shh.
"Doctor Crane?" Andrea Nowell pushed away the doorstop, opening it fully and moving into the room, "Doctor, I was just -" she caught sight of her, as Rebecca knew she would, and froze, as Rebecca knew she would. "Oh my God. Rebecca?"
She was over to her side in a flash, hand on her head, shocked eyes clocking both the tears on her face and the half-open blouse.
Rebecca felt tears streaming freely down her face, her body shaking, the doctor's sharp, concerned questioning just background noise.
"Not you." She managed, her voice tight with tears, shaking her head, "Please. Please not you."
The doctor frowned, looking at her, "What do you mean? Rebecca? Rebecca, can you hear me?"
"Doctor Nowell."
Her head jerked to his, but Rebecca showed no surprise. A hand on her heart and lungs was squeezing, hard. She couldn't handle this. She couldn't handle this.
"Andrea." Scarecrow said, a smile lingering on his lips, his eyes moving over her, slowly, "What a surprise. I've been meaning to catch up with you for some time..."
Nowell shook her head, looking at him, her hands reflexively tightening on her shoulders, as if that would save them both, "Jonathan, what have you done."
He laughed, "Sorry, Doctor Crane isn't in right now. But if you'd like to leave a message, I'm sure he'll get back to you as soon as he can." she stared at him, and he moved towards them, "Now... Andrea Karris..."
"It's Nowell." She replied, coolly, but Rebecca could hear the slightest amount of tension in her voice.
Run. Run, Andrea. Just run.
The 'doctor' let his eyes graze over her, unabashed, "Why don't we keep the original... just for a bit..."
"What's wrong with you." She said, trying to get her to her feet, trying to pull her away from him, "What happened to you."
"Nothing's wrong with me. You've seen me before, haven't you?" she hesitated, and he smirked, coming closer, "Come on. You've always been able to see me. You knew I was there all along. Now. Let's put that silly little ring away... and have some fun, what d'ya say."
"Please." Rebecca managed, finally, her heart pounding like a drum, "No. Please. Don't hurt her."
Andrea glanced down at her, "Rebecca. Are you alright."
"Andrea, go." The doctor just looked at her, and she shook her head, desperately, "Please. Go, just run!"
Scarecrow laughed, shaking his head, "Aww, how cute. Seems the little schizo's got friends after all."
"What have you been doing to her." Nowell snarled, pulling her upwards again, taking her back a step, away from him.
He laughed, "Why d'you ask? Suspicious, are you?"
"I think it's gone far past suspicions now, Crane. Now it's just plain damned curiosity."
He smirked, watching her, "Ah. Well, little Andrea... we all know what they say about curiosity and the cat..."
Andrea let go of her, and then surprised her by bringing out what had to be a long-range taser, "Definitely."
At this one Scarecrow laughed, enthusiastically, taking another step forwards, "Ooh, she's feisty."
"Step away, Doctor Crane."
"Andrea, please." She tried again. She knew where this was going, knew a toy like that would do nothing to save her, knew she had to stop it, "Please. He's not Crane. He's not Crane, please, leave!"
But she didn't, she wouldn't, and Rebecca knew that now, so she watched, all she could do was watch, as Scarecrow moved faster than Crane ever could, throwing her backwards, away, and then catching Doctor Nowell straight in the face with a cloud of thick, choking gas.
When Andrea had stopped coughing, choking, pulled herself back to her senses and looked at them, she froze. Her breath visibly came short, and she shook her head, amazed and horrified.
Rebecca didn't want to look. She knew this. She knew the feeling. The floor crawling, the walls spinning, bright colours sparking, and then the man, the man in front of you, that one face.
"Gavin?" Andrea asked, uncertainly, her voice quiet, confused, scared, "Gavin?"
Scarecrow smirked, "Ahh yes. Of course. Look, Becks, seems you're not the only one who can't handle their men."
The doctor shook her head, took a step back, shook it again, "No. No, you're... you're in Blackgate, you're..."
"Blackgate Penitentiary?" he asked, casually, "Mmm, interesting... Crane thought that he had been relocated to Gotham City, but perhaps you are more to be trusted in that particular area. You are his wife after all."
"Wife?" she repeated, weakly, "No. Ex. Ex-wife."
He cocked an eyebrow, "Ex-wife? As far as I know we never divorced, Andra."
She recoiled, "Don't call me that. And don't say 'I'. You're not him. I don't know what you are -"
"You know exactly what I am." He took a step towards her and she flinched back again. He smiled, "Sorry, hon. Johnny-boy don't hire someone without getting to know everything about them." He closed the distance between them with one stride, "Every little detail."
He took hold of her arm and she yanked back. She fought, hard, shouting and screaming at the imaginary man holding her down, but he easily overpowered her, forcing her back into the wall and pushing her down to the floor, putting a knee down hard on her leg to keep her down.
"Gavin," she repeated, eyes watering with pain and fear, "Gavin, please. Don't."
"Don't what?" he asked, casually. He moved his hand, and, when she flinched, grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back, forcing her to cry out in pain. He kept her there, against the wall, leaning towards her, "You did this to yourself, remember?"
Andrea whimpered, and Rebecca managed to get to her feet, "Stop it," she almost begged, eyes fixed on her, hating the effect he was having on the once so unshakeable doctor, "Stop it. Please. Stop it now. Leave her alone."
"You hear that, babe? Girl wants me to leave you alone. Like you're not mine."
"Please, Crane. Scarecrow. Please."
"Gavin." Andrea moaned, and Rebecca could see that she was shaking.
Scarecrow turned his attention back to her, "Yes, hon?" she didn't reply, and he shook his head, sighing, "You see... we still haven't really settled that argument we had. All those years ago? Remember? You came home late..."
"There was a three-car pile-up on the highway," she continued, her voice harsh and shaking, "I was twenty minutes late."
Rebecca couldn't breathe. She didn't know how the doctor was still conscious.
He nodded, almost conversationally, "Yeah. And then you went to the cops about me, didn't you, hon. You went to the cops. Five years married and you do that to me? Not gonna go unpunished, pet."
"I'm sorry," she murmured, her breathing getting to a state where she was almost hyperventilating, tears pouring down her cheeks, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"You know what, sweetheart?" He released his tight grip, brushing down her hair, soothingly, "I believe you."
Rebecca watched as the Scarecrow released her wrists, and put his other hand on her head.
Then he snapped her neck.