Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins.
Vanessa ate dinner alone in her room as usual that night. As the minutes passed turning into hours she examined her bandaged fingertips. Dr. Crane was right. Even if someone had managed to get into her room there was no way out without a key. The man in her room or the man she thought had been in her room was not built like any of the orderlies she'd ever seen. It couldn't have been one of the nurses and surely Dr. Crane couldn't be responsible. Vanessa had been told that he was the first one through her door when she had cried out. When she had been in her most desperate hour she had called for him above all others and he had rushed to her aid. That had to mean something, didn't it?
It was unusually cold in her room that evening. She laid down in her bed and pulled the blankets up to her neck. Starting to feel a little bit of peace and calm for the first time in weeks, she closed her eyes and vowed to get a good nights sleep.
In her dream a gloved hand brushed across her bare mid-drift in a downward diagonal motion before coming to rest on her upper left thigh. Vanessa shivered in the cold night air as this hand caressed her. It didn't take long to realize this was no dream. She knew what she would see even before she opened her eyes and she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
There he was. That same dark suit and that same horrible mask. With the light from the hallway dimly illuminating her room she could see him better this time as he climbed on top of her. If she had any lingering doubts that Scarecrow was merely a figment of her imagination they were gone now. This was actual, physical contact and it was very real. The similarities between the night of the home invasion and what was happening now could easily be drawn. Being woken from her sleep by a masked man and attacked in her own bed-the only place where she had ever considered herself truly safe. Many of the same emotions were there as well. Fear, or course, but also outrage. "How dare you, how dare you do this to me?", she wondered. What kind of a world was this where people were capable or such atrocities?
There was at least one exception this night anyway. Her hands were not tied behind her back this time. As Scarecrow tore at her sweat pants making his intentions known she swung at him violently. Her first strike found purchase with the side of his head just above his ear. For her next move she grabbed his mask-determined to rip it off and discover this mans identity once and for all. Letting out a small grunt, Scarecrow grabbed her wrist and squeezed harder and harder until the pressure forced her to let go of the mask. His hands pinned her arms above her head and although her underwear and his pants remained untouched he began to grind his hips into hers in simulation of that sexual act.
As he continued his breath grew ragged in her ear. Vanessa turned away from him in disgust. An odd thought crossed her mind. Whoever he was he smelled nice. It was an after shave or cologne that she had smelled recently but could not quite place.
"You're nothing but a pig. Why don't you go jerk off somewhere if all you want to do is wiggle on top of me? I'd like to get back to sleep.", she taunted.
Provoking this man was a risky move but Vanessa was hardly one to go gentle into that good night. Besides, her comments had halted his attack.
"I've only just begun." he whispered. Slowly, one of his hands left her wrists and she heard that all too familiar rustling again before the bag was placed over her face. It wasn't wrapped around her head this time-rather it was held as if he were smothering her with a pillow. Either way, the end result was the same. She could not breathe. Vanessa's hands flung upward haphazardly trying to catch his face. Scarecrow managed to evade her grasping hands each time. She tried clawing at his hands with her gauze covered finger tips but to no avail. Even if her nails had been in tact they wouldn't have gotten through his thick, leather gloves. She was not going to die this way! She bucked underneath him trying to thrown him off of her. He barely budged and only let out a nervous giggle that was filled with a mix of excitement and glee. Vanessa could feel that so called excitement grinding into her hips so she went with the only remaining option. She reached downward grabbing his groin area. She squeezed and twisted as hard as she could. The pain in her fingers was almost unbearable but she would not release her grasp. Scarecrow cried out several times before striking her face through the now loosened bag. The blow filled her vision with stars and she relaxed her vice like grip while pushing her hips upward-throwing him off of her. As she tore the bag away from her face she saw him unlock the door and limp out of the room. She flew after him but by the time she reached the door the lock had reset itself.
"Nurse! Somebody stop that man!"
The halls remained silent and she watched in frustration as Scarecrow made his getaway.
"Damn it!", she screamed.
After one more wordless yell she picked up her chair and threw it across the room. It was over for now and her adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off. Making her way to the toilet, she fell to her knees and threw up. Vanessa had been stronger than she ever thought possible but she did have her limits. She stood up and flushed the toilet. Her legs were shaking and she felt unsteady. Her head hurt like hell. A welt was already forming by her right eye. Some ice would be great right now but nobody seemed to work at this hospital. Where was Dr. Crane when she needed him?
With every second that passed reality set in more and more. Her gaze fell back to her bed. Her torn pants lay at the foot of the bed and the plastic bag rested at the head.
"You sick bastard." she thought as she pulled her pants back on for warmth.
As much as it pained her to touch the bag she folded it and placed it in her pocket. "You may have the key to my room but at least I have proof you were here."
