AN: Ok, yes it's been awhile. Changing time zones sucks but here I am, sitting at Las Vegas airport, waiting for a late connection, and I love you all so much that I'm posting the next chapter form here. Actually I'm jsut really bored and this is the first time in awhile that I've had time to write and post so, here you go! Enjoy
And thank you once again to all reviewers. It's so encouraging to know that someone likes what I write so... read on!
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"Christi!" shouted Emily. "I missed you!" The girl ran up to Christine as she entered the room, followed by Crane.
"I missed you, too!" She picked Emily up and swung her around in the air, eliciting squeals. The other three all wanted a turn as well so Christine obliged before grabbing the trays off of the food cart that had come in after Jonathan. She passed them out and sat down with the kids to eat.
"So what have you devils been up to?" she asked eying them each in turn.
"Nothing," Tony said coyly. The four kids burst out laughing and Christine became suspicious.
"Ok," she told them with authority. "If you fess up before I find out what you did I may not have to tickle torture all of you." The children continued laughing between bites of food and Christine just grinned.
Jonathan took a seat across from Christine and asked, "How would you like to go to the park again today?" He could tell from their giddiness that they had been cooped up for too long again. There was an outburst of "Yeahs!" so he nodded. "Ok then, we'll go after lunch." Christine glanced up at him to see a smile on his face. That's odd, she thought. It looked like a genuine smile.
After all had finished lunch the kids filed out the door while Christine grabbed jackets from all of their bags. It was late fall and the days were growing colder while they sat in Arkham. She followed them out at some distance, still amazed at their enthusiasm. They truly had no idea what danger they were in. Struggling to keep her thoughts from her face, Christine came up level with Dr. Crane who also followed the children from a distance.
Noticing her look he asked, "What are you thinking about?" Feeling analyzed Christine thought it prudent to come up with an acceptable answer fast.
"It's a shame that they have to be in here," she told Jonathan with a sad tone. "They're just kids." Jonathan remembered her saying something similar when they had first met.
"Sometimes one must take actions to protect their best interests," he said, voice measured. Christine bit her tongue and glanced away to keep from arguing. If Crane noticed this he did nothing to acknowledge it.
Stay cool, Christine told herself. This has to work. Just keep up the acting and you can do this! "And what might your best interests be?" She cursed her lack of control but really it had saved her cover. Had she kept quiet Jonathan would have been even more suspicious.
As it was he merely glanced at her. "Mine to know and mine alone." His cool tone ended the conversation immediately. Christine quickened her pace and caught up with Charlie, the last in line of the kids.
Before long they all got into the minivan, Christine taking the front seat. Crane raised an eyebrow at her, remembering the last time they'd been in a car together and how well that had gone. She kept her gaze forward but her posture told him what he wanted to know. She sat up strait, body angled slightly towards him and right leg crossed over her left with her hands folded in her lap. It was odd, though, that he had never noticed before. Perhaps she hid it behind the anger, he guessed. Now that she is not so upset with me it shows more.
Or, Scarecrow whispered, perhaps she is playing games with you.
No, Jonathan thought. Why would she fake that?
To gain your trust, he answered.Jonathan shook his head and concentrated on driving through Gotham traffic. It wasn't too bad considering it was the middle of the work day. Soon enough they were speeding out of the city towards the long forgotten park.
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"And you are not it," Christine sang out. Her finger had landed on Charlie's foot, leaving her to be "It." The kids had decided they wanted to play tag and had talked Christine into playing but Jonathan sat and watched, taking careful notes. He pulled his suit jacket closer against the bitter fall wind.
The children scattered as Christine gave them a small head start. She faked running as fast as she could but soon tagged Emily nonetheless. Taking off in the opposite direction Christine ran up onto the jungle gym where she was out of reach for the children. Teasing them she let her feet dangle down, pulling them up whenever "It" got too close. She watched as Justin ran up to where Dr. Crane was sitting at a picnic table.
"Come on, Dr. Jon," he pleaded. "Come and play with us." The child tugged at the hand that was holding a pen. "Please!"
"I'm busy," Crane answered slightly annoyed. "Go on and play." While Justin had distracted him Tony, the current "It," had snuck up behind Jonathan.
"You're it!" he shouted, tagging Jonathan on the shoulder. The two boys skirted back out of reach and Jonathan sighed.
"I'm not going to play today," he told them sternly, but it had no affect. Soon the other kids gathered around and taunted him. Reminded of his childhood when he had been teased to the breaking point, he stood and turned in a slow circle. This isn't like that, Jonathan told himself. They want to play, not hurt you. "No," he repeated. "Now go play before we have to leave." His slightly harsh tone sent them sulking away, but soon enough they were laughing and running again.
"Christi," shouted Tony from below her. She looked down and saw the child jumping to tag her. He was so short it made no difference anyway. "Come down here!"
"I don't think so," she told him. "You see I like it up here. Nice and quiet like." She watched, quite amused, as Tony slowly climbed up after her. Quickly she made her way down the opposite side of the jungle gym and ran off towards the woods. She lost herself in the trees and stopping, looked around.
This place looked familiar and with a shock Christine remembered when she had been here before. The Scarecrow! The shock hit her suddenly, her memories flooding back. She had been gassed and then awoke to see that gruesome face. Turning back the way she came she recalled running and being frightened by everything. Then there had been the arms around her, calming her, the scent of cinnamon. The letters carved on her stomach made sense suddenly, even as they ached from running.
Jonathan! The realization stopped her breath. He had been the one who gassed her. Before she wasn't certain but now, now she had proof, at least in her mind. Her plan to escape suddenly became so much more important and vital. She needed to get away from him, the sooner, the better.
Someone was coming towards her through the trees. Instead of running, like her body was screaming at her to do, she stood her ground and watched as none other than Jonathan emerged from the trees. He looked worried, but not for the reasons a normal person would be. He thought that perhaps she had forgotten her promise not to run away.
"Are you alright?" he asked. She looked terrified, like she had seen a ghost.
"Yes," she breathed. "I'm fine. I just got lost in the woods, is all." Christine walked towards him and stopped about a foot away. "Are you ready to go?" He looked her over a moment, feeling Scarecrow close to the surface at the thought of her fear, though why she was afraid he did not know.
"Yes," he told her, locking eyes. "What's wrong?" he asked again. He knew there was something there.
"Nothing," she lied, knowing he would see through her feeble excuse. "Let's go." She brushed by him towards the way he had come figuring that was the way out. Jonathan followed at a distance, observing her movements.
Something has her scared, he said.
Yes, and I know what it is, Scarecrow taunted. Would you like me to tell you? Jonathan sneered at the mocking voice in his head.
By all means enlighten me.
Didn't you recognize that place? She was there before. The words sunk in and Jonathan slowly recalled what they meant.
But she couldn't have remembered, he replied. And even if she did she couldn't have connected me with you, Scarecrow. She doesn't know your name.
Do you think that would stop her? Scarecrow asked sarcastically. That girl is far too smart for her own good and it's going to catch up to you some day. Jonathan tried to ignore the voice in his head, telling himself that if he even gave Scarecrow a foothold he would force his way in.
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A man stood nervously in an alley, hood pulled up. He shoved his hands into his pocket to ward off the autumn chill and glanced towards the street. When he looked back down the alley another man stood a few feet away, sizing him up. After a long while the two men walked toward each other.
"Prove to me I can trust you," came Michael Fellman's gruff voice. He stared intently at the other man who in response pulled down his hood.
"Now do you see?" The young man's voice was tight with emotion as he flashed a palmed badge.
"Geez, Walker," Michael exclaimed. "How the hell do you know about this?" He ran a hand through his messy hair and glanced up and down the deserted alley.
"He had Alice," Jack Walker replied shortly. There was a silence in which the two men simply shared a moment of grief.
"So she's back now?" It was more a statement than a question. "That's why you've been so apathetic lately. He bought you off!"
"No, it's not like that!" Jack shouted. Realizing his volume he brought his voice back to a whisper. "I had no choice. He would have hurt her." Michael appraised the younger man a moment before replying.
"I'm not blaming you," he sighed. "He's the one to blame. If only I had known sooner that I wasn't the only one in this situation then maybe I could have done something." He closed his eyes and saw the picture of Christine.
"But you can." Michael looked up, confused, and waited for Jack to go on. Jack handed him the note and in the dim light he scanned it.
"That's my girl," he grinned. For a moment he was the proudest father in the world. His little girl had stood up to Crane just like he had. "How many are still there?"
"Best I can guess is Jones, Stewart, Ashton, and Thompson. Well, and Christine."
"Have you talked to them?" Michael asked.
"No. We wanted to be sure you would help us first." Jack met Michael's eyes.
"Are you kidding? Of course I want to get my daughter out of there but if we go near the place he'll kill the kids and you know it." He sighed again. "We need a plan." The two men continued talking over a coffee at some all night diner and by the end of the night had formed an idea that just might work.
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"What is that?" Christine asked, watching Dr. Crane working on a test tube full of light blue liquid. He was used to working alone and having that girl there was very annoying. She just wouldn't stop asking questions. Wonder why? Scarecrow giggled.
Jonathan ignored him and answered, "A new medication I'm working on to treat SDD." Christine nodded, not needing to ask why he would be so interested in a medicine that would treat his multiple personality. It had been a day since they had gone to the park. She glanced around the small lab he had set up in a room next to his office. The counters which lined the room had test tubes and beakers everywhere along with several machines. They must have done something important but Christine had no idea what.
Jonathan was sitting in front of a Bunsen burner over which he held the test tube full of blue liquid. It sloshed around a bit as it heated. He was looking for something, a crucial reaction that would show it was ready. Suddenly the liquid turned a pale green and he grinned. Taking the test tube in tongs he held the bottom in a beaker of ice water. After it was room temperature he stuck the tip if a syringe into the liquid and pulled until almost all of it was gone from the tube. Replacing the cover on the needle Jonathan labled it with a pen. He pocketed it and stood, turning to Christine.
"Are we done here?" she asked. While he had been working she had been glancing through the papers stacked around. Nothing there was really useful but if it had been she would have taken it for further study. All she needed was a weakness to exploit. That was why she had agreed to this ludacrous idea of following Crane around.
"Yes," Jonathan replied. "Now I need to check on the maximum security ward." He turned to look at her. "You may not want to see this." Christine took it as a dare.
"I think I can handle it," she told him. Jonathan cocked his head to the side in response but said nothing. As he walked out Christine followed him into the elevator. Inserting a key into the control panel he pressed -1 and the car started moving.
Christine glanced at him. Crane was standing perfectly strait, hands clasping a notepad in front of him. He turned to look at her and she quickly glanced away, almost blushing. There it is again, he thought. He was still wondering if he should say something about it when the doors opened to reveal a glassed-in nurses station next to heavy gates. When the lady behind the desk saw Dr. Crane she buzzed open the doors. Jonathan walked in followed by a hesitant Christine.
Nothing she saw really surprised her. It was a long white hallway broken by doors with windows in them. The windows were made of bullet proof glass and the doors were slabs of steel. It was what the rooms housed that stopped her in her tracks.
The patients, more like inmates down here, were all strapped down in some way. They came to the last door and Crane opened it for Christine. She walked in and stared at what she saw there. A man, very old by the looks of it, lay curled up in the corner. He was in a full body bind and mumbled occasionally to himself.
"Hello, Marcus," Dr. Crane said, approaching the man. At the sound of his voice the man managed to sit up and gaze fearful at Crane. "How are you doing?"
"Scared, scared, scarey," the man whispered in a frightful voice.
"Why is he mumbling?" Christine asked softly. Marcus looked up at her as though he had just noticed her prescence.
"You! You come with the Scare-" he was cut off by Jonathan.
"Most of what he says is gibberish," he told Christine quickly. "Unfortunately a medication we tried stopped his screaming but induced this paranoia." After scratching something on his notepad he pointed Christine out the door. She went but the man's mumblings were still in her mind. He was about to say Scarecrow, she thought. With a sickening feeling she looked at Crane as he moved on to the next room.
There they were greeted by pounding on the door before Dr. Crane even opened it. Cautiously he shouldered the door open. The moment there was enough room the frail looking girl in a strait jacket took a running start for the crack. Jonathan was ready, though. He dropped his notepad and grabbed the girl around the waist and dragged her, kicking and screaming, back towards the center of the room.
"Stay out!" he commanded Christine and she had no choice but to obey. She watched through the small window as he struggled witht the girl, trying to get answers to his questions. The fragile girl had a surprising amount of strength. She kept kicking and wailing for a good five minutes before Crane came out again. His appearence was a bit more disheveled than before and his face was shining with sweat. One look was enough to tell Christine not to ask questions.
They continued into each room with a similar reaction from most of the patients. They screamed or they were silent. They fought for their lives or they were eerily still. Christine was disturbed by all of this, but most of all by the boy in the last room they stopped in.
"You may not want to see this," Jonathan warned her before they went in.
"What's so bad about this one?" she mocked bitterly. Suit yourself, Jonathan thought. He unlocked the door and stepped in.
The first thing Christine noticed was the stains on the wall. They were reddish brown and streaked the walls randomly, or so it seemed. It looked as though someone had tried to wash them off but they were too stubborn to leave. The boy in the room in a corner, back to the door. He was in a strait jacket and it looked like a muzzel.
"William," Dr. Crane said. "How are you?" The boy turned his head to look at Jonathan. His eyes were full of hatred and fear but he stood and calmly walked over to the pair standing by the now re-locked door. Dr. Crane reached out and removed the contraption from the boys mouth. Christine nearly gasped. The boys lips and chin were scarred by what appeared to be bite marks.
"The little toys march," William lisped. Apparently he had bitten off parts of his tongue because his speech was slurred and unreal. "Marching, marching, marching." He back up slowly until he was against the wall. "They march to see what becomes of the Straw." His eyes were wide and his mouth curled into a wicked smile. "They march to see the Crow. The Crow will kill us all." William collapsed into a fit of laughter and Dr. Crane shot Christine a look that said I told you so.
Christine didn't see it, though. Her eyes were locked on the boy, mind spinning. They all mentioned the Scarecrow, she thought, horrified. He did it to all of them. He made them this way. Jonathan Crane. Only then did she glance at Crane who was placing the muzzel back onto the boy's head. Christine nearly ran out of the room when Jonathan had opened the door.
"So," Jonathan began once they were in the elevator, "do you think you can handle it?" Christine was startled out of her thoughts and took a moment to come up with a logical answer.
"Do you think this is helping?" she asked. If it wasn't then she was ready to give up on this little aid to her plan. There were other, less disturbing, ways to accomplish what needed to be done.
"In a way," he told her. "I can feel the violent side and yet since it is speaking to me all the time with you around I feel less inclined to heed it." So in English he's saying yes, Christine thought. They stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall to where the kids would be playing. "Tomorrow, then?" It was more a statement than a question because they both knew that Christine really had no choice.
"Sure," she nodded. With that she walked in and Crane left back to his office.