These are scary times with a pandemic. I want everyone to stay healthy and safe. Take time for your family and friends. Take time for yourself. Gargle with warm saltwater. I hope this chapter alleviates your boredom and keep safe. Thank you Enygmass for editing during these trying times.


In the morning they simply rested side by side, neither willing to roll over and face the other. "I went too far." He did not dare to touch her so he rustled the sheets enough to feel comfortable.

"Jonathan." She rolled over and regretted looking into his cruel blue eyes. "Why do you keep hurting me?" She squeezed her eyes shut.

He felt a lurch in his gut and wanted to back away. "I don't enjoy it." He tried to offer a small comfort, but as he went to stroke her cheek she flinched. He immediately pulled his hand away. "I do not like it when you pull away from me. It makes me feel unpleasant." He knew this was the wrong thing to say because she looked like she was bracing for impact.

He did not know what to say to make her understand. "When people cause me pain, I cause them sincere harm." He watched her breathe and did not know whether to continue or pause. "With you I'm much less sincere."

"I'm trying to understand you. I want to be happy here with you." She wanted to be happy, not afraid. She didn't think there was a way out anymore.

"But are you, afraid of me?" Crane frowned. He wanted her fear but he disliked the consequences. He wanted her to enjoy the rest of her life with him.

"I wouldn't be so scared if you weren't the Scarecrow." She tried to make the joke to escape his piercing gaze. He was looking inside her and it made her feel like he was still inside her.

"Don't deflect." He snapped, but softened his tone immediately. She shifted further into her pillow and he could not understand why she felt threatened. "Why are you afraid of me?"

"Jonathan, I can't move when you raise your voice, let alone your hand. I'm terrified of you." The tears formed in her eyes and she looked at the ceiling to will away the emotions.

"Did you have sex with me because you were afraid?" His voice trembled and he tried not to see her watering eyes.

"Yes." She waited for him to hit her or yell. Instead, he fell silent.

"Jonathan?" She watched him fall apart and saw that he was completely human.

"I'm sorry." He felt the tears form and looked away. He felt like everything was missing. He needed reassurance and he wished he was reaching the wrong conclusions.

"Don't cry. Please don't cry." She sat up and began to rub his back. She did not know what to do. She did not know how to comfort him.

"You don't need to do anything." He pushed away from her touch. He did not want to steal any more of her contact.

"It's ok. It's ok. I'm here." She ignored his protests and continued stroking his back.

He pulled her into a hug and hid his face in her shirt. He did not like the idea of her seeing him cry. He would hate for her to think even less of him.

She petted his head and tried her best to calm him. "I won't let you be miserable all by yourself." He stayed with his face pressed into her chest and refused to come up for air. She could not see him so vulnerable.

He broke completely and only came up for air to rub his eyes on his sleeves. "I really do care for you." He sniffled. "Immensely." He was not ready to call it love, but he hoped she could see his meaning. "I don't want you to feel obligated to come to my side. I will try to be more consistent with you." He needed to gain control of his sensitivities. She was being too sweet for him to return the kindness with brutality.

Things were going well. They were not having sex anymore, but were sharing snacks. He fed her potato chips and the resultant crumbs often fell into the cushions. He even made her laugh.

"Come now, it is hardly what I would call scary." He was looming behind the couch with his hand occasionally flexing towards her shoulders. He only rested the digits near her collar. He tried not to tease her skin with his fingernails and raise goosebumps. She did not like the feel of his fingernails lightly trailing across her skin.

"No way. I'm not watching that movie with you." She hated watching scary movies with him. He always took things too far. He would rig the closet door to swing open in the middle of the night and disappear at odd intervals of the movie to reach a hand abruptly from behind and press it to her shoulder. One time he put on his stupid costume specifically to scare the holy hell out of her when he sat back down on the couch.

"Why not? I'm exactly the person that you would want to watch a scary movie with." He protested her position by playfully holding the DVD case between his long fingers in front of her face.

"You are exactly the type of person no one wants to watch a scary movie with." She pushed his hand away but turned her head so he could see her smile.

He laughed. "I'll get the snacks." He went into the kitchen to grab potato chips and dip. He flopped on the couch after putting the disc into the DVD player.

"Well, sit down." Crane grinned because she moved off the couch to sit in the chair furthest away from him. He pulled her from the chair. "Next to me."

"Let me get a blanket." Meg pressed his hands gently away from her sides. She wanted the blanket to hide under if things got scary. When she returned, Crane was spread out completely on the couch with his eyes following her steps with predatory joy.

"Ready?" He smiled with every row of his crooked teeth gleaming through the dimmed lights.

He was a pest the entire movie. Pulling the blanket away from her eyes during the most gruesome scenes. Playing with her hair to make her feel like someone was breathing down her neck and actually breathing down her neck to get her to shiver. He only stopped messing with her when she resorted to using him as a human shield.

He was fully affected by her hurling her little face into his chest. Her bottom pressed against his side and he coughed to politely shift positions. He did not want to give her a genuine scare.

"Ok. You were right. You are exactly who I'd want to watch a scary movie with." She stretched in a long line and noticed Jonathan's attention was more or less sexual in nature.

"Do you want to go outside? For some fresh air?" He had waited long enough to make the offer. He needed to stop his own fear from following him. Fear could poison the best things and he would not allow his fear to kill her.

"With or without your usual precautions." She swallowed. Jonathan was still a cruel man and she knew his inclinations.

"No precautions. I'll place my trust in you." He needed air. He could tell his attention was making her uncomfortable and did not want her to fear his lust. He paused at the door. "Just don't run."

"Alright. Where are we going?" She stepped timidly onto the porch and into the daylight. There were people on the street and she could scream for help. She swallowed the shout because Jonathan was already through the door and locking up.

"Maybe we can get some coffee and lunch?" He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her to follow. He walked at his usual pace but shortened his stride when he noticed she was not capable of matching him.

"Sounds pleasant." She squeezed his hand and noticed he was watching her steps closely to judge her ability to keep pace. He could be a sweet man when he was paying attention.

They walked to a diner called Roxanne's. It was not particularly busy. The hostess sat them in a green booth. The booth was patched with duct tape filling in areas of the cracked upholstery which was too prickly to rest against. A waitress with a carton of cigarettes sticking out from her apron came to their table. The waitress's curly blonde hair bounced against the restraints of a tight top bun. The waitress took their order but did not smile. Meg thought about screaming for help, but the constant pat of Jonathan's hand persuaded her not to scream.

"I want to try giving you more freedom." He sucked in a gulp of his bitter drink and eased into the booth. "I'm going to leave the house for three days." He saw her eyes widen and tried not to bristle. "You will have access to the phone and internet. I will give you access to a credit card and you may buy anything for the home or for yourself." He closed his eyes and tried not to throw in a threat for good measure.

"That's very generous. Why?" She took his card and read the name listed. "Jonathan Rance?"

"It's obviously an alias." He pulled the card out from her hands and placed the card back into his wallet. "When I can trust you, I will be able to pursue your affection more appropriately." Jonathan bit into his sandwich teeth crunching against toasted bread.

"I get it." She bit into her Rueben and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "If you can trust me you can treat me like a person not a hostage." She swallowed the coffee to wash down her second bite of the sandwich.

"You are no hostage of mine. I don't keep hostages. I keep test subjects." He drank more coffee trying not to behave aggressively. "When you reject my sincere offers of kindness, I treat you like a lover scorned." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. She at least had the decency to blush.

"Ok. I will not run. I will stay home." She patted his hand. "But, I will be ordering food and you are buying." She stuck her tongue out and kissed his cheek. He used the opportunity to pinch her bottom. She gave him a dirty look but he kept eating barely raising his eyebrows.

Two days passed and she spent them alone. The wait was as boring as it was scary. Every noise caused her to jump because she was all alone in a boarded up apartment. Everytime she opened the door and picked up a package off the stoop or accepted delivery she felt like there were eyes watching her on all sides. She did not dare to step further than the porch in case Jonathan was nearby waiting for her to run.

She heard the knock, but did not answer the door because she did not order any food. She hid in the shower because whoever was at the door was not Jonathan. When the knock was followed by a bang and the shouting of men, she tried to breathe silently from behind the shower curtain. The voices were loud and clearly male. She hesitated to cry out but realized they would find her eventually. The footsteps were getting closer. "Hello! I'm in here!"

As the shower curtain screeched across the top of the metal hanger she prepared for a fight. She held a shampoo bottle in her palms and threw the bottle immediately. She recognized one of the men as she leapt over the ceramic basin. "Will?" She tripped on the bath mat but landed on her feet.

"Meg? Are you ok?" Will looked her over and felt relieved she was alive.

"I'm fine. How are you here?" She knew Jonathan would be furious with her, but how much damage could he do if she safely made it out. "Nevermind. Just get me out from here. Please. Jonathan comes back tomorrow." She was worried Jonathan was on his way now.

"Let's go." He limped across the bathroom floor into the living room where two large men were ripping open drawers and tearing apart the couch cushions. "Guys we need to move out. She says he's coming back."

"Cobblepot said to look around." One of the men spoke after dumping out an entire drawer of silverware onto the kitchen floor.

"That's fine. You two stay. I'm taking her back to the Lounge." Will pointed at the girl and back to the room. "You don't need me to see what's here. Just keep things quiet. Cobblepot wants Scarecrow to come to him." Will tried to look around to see if anything nearby belonged to Meg, but could not see anything discernibly female.

"Sure thing Willy." The men waved Will off and continued to rummage around the apartment.

"Let's get you the hell out of here." Will pulled open the door and exited the apartment with Megeara in tow.

—-

When Jonathan opened the door to his home he walked through each room slowly. He detailed the destruction silently. There were utensils on his kitchen floor, couch cushions spilling cotton guts across the carpet, and his books were now crumpled pages blowing like crinkled tumble weeds across his floor. As he observed the destruction he looked only for her. For if she was amidst the destruction he could forgive the wanton destruction of his property.

But she was gone and her promise to stay was broken. He felt cold. His hands were shaking. She was gone. He moved to his desk to sit. He stood, slamming his chair to the ground. His breath was ragged and when he ripped the gun from underneath his desk he registered the snap of electrical tape, but did not feel the weight of the object in his hand.

"The three little kittens, they lost their mittens." He rocked on the balls of his heels slowly. As a child, he had pictured his mother reading the rhymes to him after a particularly unbearable day. The rhymes usually kept him calm. "And they began to cry." He sucked in a gasp of air and choked on a sob.

"Oh, mother dear, we sadly fear." He was gulping on the air and trying to regain his composure. "Our mittens we have lost." He was sobbing. He felt the hot tears blurring his vision as his chest heaved up and down. She wasn't supposed to leave him. She was supposed to stay.

He sat down with the gun resting on his thigh and squeezed his eyes tightly. He could regain his composure. He had not lost her yet. "I smell a rat close by." He wiped at his eyes and ambled towards a table filled with his brilliant compounds. The house had been ransacked but the basement corners remained unscathed. The secret places of his home remained stocked with supplies. If she were to leave she would not have done so much destruction to his home, to his books. He could find her again if he asked the right questions.

"Edward. Don't talk." He tried to breathe carefully. He knew Edward would not be able to hear his distress through the call, but he felt no comfort.

"Well, Jonathan what can I-" Edward ignored the command and spat out as many consonants and vowels as he could get through the phone line.

"Stop talking. Please. She's gone." Jonathan was barely keeping himself stable. He refused to let Edward hear his distress. He needed to speak in small pieces and long pauses.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Do you want me to make lost posters? If found, call Arkham? Or should we do a missing persons poster with pictures of her wearing different shades of lipstick?" Edward ran through the words as quickly as they entered his head. He pulled open his fridge door and reached for the creamer.

"Please. Shut up." Jonathan shouted and gripped at his hair with a sharp pull. "I need to know who took her." The words came out like sand paper rubbing at his windpipe. "Now." He tried to keep calm but he was losing his composure.

"Oh. Is that all?" Edward tilted the creamer into his cup and poured the coffee over the liquid. He watched the liquids swirl until they reached an even color.

"Edward. Do you want us to have a problem?" His voice went cold. "It would be a permanent problem Edward." His mind was slipping into the dark. His focus was on causing anyone within reach harm. "Do you remember the cancer? The feelings of helplessness? Can you imagine what it might feel like to die a death that is so much worse?" He tried to remember the rest of the words to the rhyme but he simply could not focus.

"I was going to tell you Jonathan. No threats required. My guess is that Cobblepot made good on his promise." He let the slurp of coffee be heard across the phone. Jonathan sounded like he was in a frightening mood. He reasoned he might as well avoid direct involvement. "I did tell you Oswald was upset." Ozzy could deal with this issue on his own.

"Where is he now?" Crane wiped his eyes. He was not feeling calmer.

"He'll likely be in the Iceberg Lounge after hours tonight. Especially if he just stole something so valuable." Edward more interesting than the T.V. show playing in the background.