Author's Note: I know it's been a while, but here's the last actual chapter. After this, there's only the epilogue left to go. I want to say thank you again for all of the reviews! Don't forget to keep 'em coming and let me know what you think of this chapter as well! Anyways, on to the story!

Chapter Fourteen: Heather

All those years of being unafraid; of choking back the fear; suppressing it; burying it somewhere deep inside of her so that she even forgot what the feeling felt like; all of that was over in that moment. It was as though every ounce of fear that she had ignored, from the slightest shiver when you turn out the lights to the dread you feel in your gut when you hear footsteps behind you in an empty parking lot, all of that came flooding to the surface with Crane's whispered words. It overcame her and the only thing she could do to acknowledge the feeling was scream. She screamed and screamed and screamed. She screamed until her throat hurt from it.

Crane held her hands pinned against the cushions of the sofa, high, on either side of her head. He was breathing hard, as though he had been the one that had just been screaming. He nuzzled his face into her neck and Heather felt his mouth press a kiss against her collarbone. Then, he tilted his face so that his mouth was beside her ear. The feel of his warm breath made her shiver.

"Do it again, Heather." He whispered, his lips tickling her earlobe, "Give me another scream."

He pushed his hips in tighter against hers so that she could feel his excitement. He raised his upper body and moved her hands up higher above her head until he could push them together and clasp both of her wrists in one hand. Heather tried to jerk away from his hold during the transition, but he was too quick and caught her. His free hand slid down her side to her stomach, the tips of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her scrubs; then his hand traveled lower still.

Tears stung her eyes as she tried to twist her body away from him, but his weight pinned her in place. "Stop it." She hissed.

"Can't you see how alike we are?" he breathed against her skin.

"I am nothing like you!" she spat just before she twisted her body and brought her knee up as hard as she could into his ribcage.

With a grunt, Crane released Heather's hands and grasped his side. She brought her hands up to the side of his face and shoved him off of her. He rolled onto the floor with a thud as Heather scrambled up and leapt over him. Crane reached up and caught her by the ankle, bringing her down to the floor along with him. She twisted and kicked at him, but Crane clamped his big hand down on her knee to still her leg as he worked his way up her body. She clawed at the floor behind her in attempt to pry herself away from him, but she just wasn't strong enough. He straddled her thighs and cupped the sides of her face with his hands.

"Heather," he said, his eyes burning with fierce intensity into her own, "once you understand the beauty…the power…the elation that you can find behind another human being's fear, I swear to you, you'll see how all this arguing and fighting with me is just unnecessary."

Heather felt fresh warm tears slipping from her eyes as she blindly groped her hands over the floor. She shook her head as best she could in his grip and squeezed her eyelids closed. "No." she said, trying to make her voice sound strong but it came out cracked and broken.

"Yes." Crane stated matter-o-factly, a smile crossing his lips that could only be described as sinister.

"I don't want to be like you." Heather said, struggling against herself to choke back the sobs that were fighting to burst free from her throat.

"It's okay to be afraid, Heather," Crane cooed in a type of false sincerity, stroking the pad of his thumb across her jaw line, "I don't mind."

"You disgust me!" she snarled.

"No, I don't." he chuckled, his fingertips brushing against her temple, "You want me to disgust you. But deep down, you know that's just not true."

Heather's chin quivered as she looked up at him. His smile widened as he leaned down and pressed his lips forcefully against hers. She pressed her lips together as tightly as she could, denying him access to her mouth; clinging to whatever tiny bit of control she was able to keep over the situation. Her fingertips brushed against something, which she then grabbed hold of. Crane drew back from her, looking down with a smug, self satisfied expression covering his features. Heather felt her own mouth twist into a smile as she swung the heavy gold paperweight with all her might so that it connected solidly with his temple.

Crane's body went instantly limp and he collapsed unconscious on top of her. Despite being trapped beneath his dead weight, Heather let out a sigh of relief and she felt her body relax. With a groan of effort, she managed to roll Crane off of her and climb to her feet. She staggered to the door and jerked on the doorknob, when it didn't budge, she remembered with a jolt that it was locked. Her eyes landed on Crane.

She rushed back over to him and dropped to her knees by his side. With only a slight hesitation, she dug her hands into the pockets of his slacks in search of the key and came up with nothing. She grabbed him by the shirt collar and screamed out her frustration through clenched teeth in his face.

"Where is it, you bastard!"

Her eyes fell onto the suit jacket that was draped over the back of his desk chair and she scrambled up and around the desk to reach it. She went for the inner pocket first, thinking that she had seen him shove things into it more than once. When she pulled her hand out the first time, she held his eyeglasses. She dropped them on the top of the desk and then dug her hand into it again, coming out with the lone door key. A smile split her lips but a moan from the stirring psychiatrist on the floor across the room melted it right back off. She didn't have time to celebrate, yet. She ran back around to the front of the desk, pausing just long enough to snatch the letter opener from the ground, and rushed to the door. Adrenaline was coursing so rapidly through her veins, her hands shook almost uncontrollably as she tried to get the key in the lock and turn it. And after that, it took her another minute to actually turn the doorknob. She heard another moan and looked over her shoulder to see Crane stir. His head moved a little to the side signaling that he wouldn't be long before he woke up. She pulled the door open and slipped through it, pulling shut behind her. With a nervous glance down the stairs, she locked the office door from the outside, then with the key still in the lock, she hit her palm against it and snapped half the key off still inside. If nothing else, the jammed lock would delay him and buy her a little more time.

With that taken care of, she turned and raced down the steep stairway taking two stairs at a time. She slowed her pace just barely when she reached the bottom, pausing just long enough to peek around the corner before launching herself into another sprint. She was getting out of this damned place tonight if it killed her. All she had to do was find her way to the front door. Oh! And slip past the guard and/or orderly who posted there. Piece of proverbial cake. Really.

She rounded a corner when an arm shot out and more or less clotheslined her at the midsection. Her feet flew out into the air in front of her and her back landed hard on the cold cement floor. The blow to her stomach followed almost immediately by the impact on her back knocked the wind out of her and she lay writhing on the floor, coughing and choking and gasping as she tried to regain her breath. She had lost her grip on the letter opener when she had hit the ground and as soon as she felt the slightest bit of oxygen passing into her lungs, she reached her hand over toward it. But, before her fingertips even brushed the handle, two large hands grasped her upper arms and jerked her to her feet.

"Hello, darlin'." Hal sneered just before he slammed her bodily into the wall.

Heather grunted when she hit the wall, letting out another cough but managed a cheeky grin, "Hey yourself, big guy."

"Going somewhere?" he growled.

"Just thought I'd take a late night stroll." She said, once again finding the strength to push her fear aside, "Why? You got something else in mind?"

Hal released one of her arms and groped at her breast as he pressed his lower body into hers. "How about a little fun?" he said huskily.

She could feel his breath in her face; it was hot and damp and stank of cheap cigarettes and diet coke. She didn't squirm against him because in her experience, that only served to excite a man more. Instead, she set her face into a scowl, "No offense, or you can take offense, either way I really don't care, but…I think our definitions of fun are just the tiniest bit different."

Hal laughed a deep, hearty laugh before leaning forward and dragging his oversized tongue over her neck, leaving a trail of saliva on her skin. He let go of grip on her other arm so that he now had both hands free to roam and grope at her body. Heather pushed at his wide shoulders, trying to pry herself free of him, but he continued to lick and nip at her collarbone as his fingers clutched at her breasts, her hips, her buttocks and thighs. What was with everybody in this place? Were they all so sex starved? Had it really been that long since they had seen a woman?

A new rush of anger coursed through her and she brought up her legs and slammed the heel of her foot down on his kneecap. Hal howled and back two steps away from her. His eyes narrowed angrily as he looked at her then backhanded her across the face. He head snapped to the side and she went down to her knees on the floor. One hand clutched to her cheek, she tried to scramble away from him on her other three limbs. But, Hal caught her by the arm once again and jerked her up. He was in such a rage that he didn't even hear the scrape of metal against concrete.

He pinned her to the wall by her throat, his cruel eyes boring into hers; he leaned so close that their noses were pressed together. Heather pushed against the underside of his chin with one hand in attempt to put some distance between them, but just as pretty much every other attempt she had made, it failed.

"Come on, Heather," he spat, "I just want a little of what you've been giving our good doctor."

It was him! The thought blasted its way to the forefront of her mind. He had been the one watching them on the monitors! She felt her eyes narrow and any remnants of fear that she might have had melted away in that instant.

"You want some of what I gave to Dr. Crane?" she said, her voice dripping with honey, "Okay, then."

With that, she brought up her hand and stabbed the long metal letter opened into the base of his neck where it met with the shoulder. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack as a sickening gurgling sound poured from his open mouth. She pulled the weapon from his flesh, not even cringing against the slurping sound that came with it. Hal relinquished his hold on her and staggered back, his hand at his shoulder. Heather took a step toward him and fell back away from her.

He scooted backwards, using one hand to drag himself with the other still clamped firmly over his wound. He stared up at her, his eyes wide and fearful; his face drawn into what could only be described as panic. Heather took another step toward, a strange warm calm feeling flooding through her entire body as she looked down at him. He looked terrified of her and she felt a small smile spread over her lips.

Then, the smile vanished and she looked down at herself. She was clutching the letter opener so hard that her knuckles had turned white. The blade of the opener was covered in blood, as was her wrist and fingers. The front of her shirt and pants were also blood splattered from what she could only assume was arterial spray. She stumbled back a few steps as her goal reentered her mind…and her goal was not to start hacking into Hal the orderly. She spun around on the ball of her foot and took off running once again.

It took her five more minutes to find her way to the front lobby of the asylum. She crouched against the corner of the wall and peeked around it. There was an overweight security guard sitting behind a desk slurping away at coffee from a Styrofoam cup. How exactly was she going to con him into buzzing open those heavy double doors? Her gaze fell on a large cylindrical metal ashtray and hastily glued together plan worked itself out in her head.

She darted across the lobby and plastered herself against the far wall, just barely out of the security guard's line of sight. She slid along the wall on her toes, trying to move as quietly as was humanly possible. All in one motion, she wrapped her hands around the tall ashtray and came out in front of the desk. The guard barely had the time to look up from the doughnut he was eating before Heather swung the makeshift weapon, connecting solidly with the side of his head and knocking him out of his chair and into the floor. She threw the ashtray aside and hopped onto the top of the desk; she began pushing buttons on the control panel until she heard a loud buzzing sound. It was amazing how comforting that buzzing was.

She scrambled off of the top of the desk and rushed for the door; as soon as the opening was wide enough, she slipped through it into the night. Large raindrops were coming down hard and only a slight slant; so hard that there was about two inches of standing water on the ground. She ran across the top lot of the Arkham, water splashing up onto her legs with every step she took. Rain was beating into her face and she was soon soaked all the way through. She didn't mind. There was something about the rain that was oddly cleansing to her.

Halfway down the driveway, she drew to a halt. It was almost as though her feet refused to move anymore. In her mind's eye, she kept flashing back to an image of Hal trying to crawl away from her on the floor. The fear in his eyes; the terror etched so deeply across his face. The way she had felt looking at him.

She had felt warm and calm and strangely excited…almost…euphoric. There had been a tingling in her lips and toes as she had advanced on him; as she had watched his eyes begging her to just leave him alone. It was only as she reflected on that, standing there in the middle of a downpour, that she realized the truth.

She fell to her knees, painful choking sobs erupting from her throat. Crane had been right! He had been tell her the truth the entire time! There was something twisted inside of her. Something that had been broken a long time ago and was only now showing its defect. But she was stronger than some damn broken toy, wasn't she? She pushed herself back up to her feet and wiped her hand at the tears on her cheeks, more of a symbolic gesture than anything because the rain made it impossible to wipe her face dry. She drew in a deep, steadying breath and took another step forward. But she could not stop herself from casting another long glance over her shoulder at the famed Arkham Asylum, or the thought that entered her mind at the sight of it towering over her in the distance.

Author's Note: Almost done!