Disclaimer: I don't own Dr. Crane and/or any of the characters/places associated with Batman Begins
Pandemonium; was there any other word for what was happening here? From the window of her new room, Vanessa could see out into the city. An all too familiar white fog swept through it. The streets were swarming with people running in every possible direction, but the chaos was not confined to the Narrows. It had spread to the halls of the asylum as well.
When her door had popped open that evening she had held her breath in anticipation of who might enter. That's when the screaming had started. These weren't cries of fear or agony; these were the manic cheers of victory. Inmates from every wing of Arkham were fleeing the asylum, hell-bent on wreaking havoc in the Narrows. Would Jonathan come for her? Or would Rachel Dawes be his target this night? They shared that bond now, she and Rachel. They were both loose ends.
Vanessa stood still in the darkness of her room, more thankful than ever that she'd been relocated. She was unsure of what to do and where to go. This room was a dead end; if Jonathan or anyone else found her here she would be trapped. If she got outside and breathed the air she would succumb to the toxin, just like everyone else. Vanessa decided the best course of action would be to leave this room, to find a suitable hiding place within the building, and lay low for a while.
After a fresh wave of inmates rushed by her door, she dared to peek out into the hallway. Everything seemed to be deserted. She ventured out a few steps; still nothing. She had only left this floor once since she'd been moved here and was unsure of which way to exit. Her gaze fell on a fire extinguisher across the hall. This could come in handy, she thought as she plucked it from the wall. That's when she saw him. Through some miracle he had not seen her; Vanessa watched as he entered a room six doors down from where she stood. She clutched the extinguisher close to her body and backed into her room.
She could hear him going from room to room, tearing each one apart.
"Where are you?" he yelled, over and over.
Vanessa heard crashing and pounding; it was as if he were trying to bring the place down. Where did he think she was hiding, in the walls? Then she thought back to Sergeant Gordon's words; Jonathan had been driven insane by his own toxin. Vanessa thought about the ramifications of what that meant. How does a person who was never really sane to begin with go crazy? What form does it take? She had no time to ponder that now; Jonathan was in the room next to hers. A confrontation was fast approaching. She moved just to the side of the door and readied herself.
"You can do this, be strong," she whispered.
As he came through the door in a frenzy, she swung the extinguisher like a bat, catching him square in the mid-section. He nearly keeled over, but did not go down. Vanessa followed up with a strike across the shoulder blades which left him sprawled on the floor. When he rolled over and saw his attacker, he smiled at her as if he'd just been reunited with a long lost love.
"Vanessa. Thank God you're alright."
She had always thought that when the time came for them to face each other again, she would be terrified. Instead she was filled with a rage so powerful she could scarcely control it. Vanessa liked this new feeling; she would be his victim no longer.
"I'm not falling for that shit. Where's your morphine now, you fucker?" she screamed at him, swinging the extinguisher again.
Jonathan raised his arms defensively but still grunted in pain each time she leveled a blow.
"You were going to kill me, you son of a bitch!"
He looked at her in amazement, shocked by the level of her anger.
"Why?" she yelled.
Jonathan gave her no answers. Knowing the truth was irrelevant now anyway.
Timing her strikes, he finally managed to catch the weapon and knock it from her hands. Vanessa wasted no time trying to retrieve it. He was up and after her in an instant. They collided with one another and fell to the floor, Jonathan ending up on top. Vanessa thrashed underneath him, finding physical power she had never known. He was barely able to contain her flailing arms and legs as she punched and kicked at him.
"Stop!" he yelled in anger and frustration, when he at last managed to pin her down.
Vanessa froze. They stared at each other, both of them out of breath. She did not know this man lying on top of her. Clothed in the remnants of what appeared to be a straightjacket, he was the very essence of insanity. Jonathan Crane was gone, replaced by a madman with raging eyes.
"They tacked three counts of rape onto the list of charges they intend to file against me, should my esteemed colleague Dr. Lehman decide I'm fit to stand trial. Why do you think they decided to do that?" he asked in an accusatory manner.
"Because you deserve to rot in prison," she hissed through clenched teeth.
"I don't think that's going to happen. Everyone has a get out of jail free card tonight, but there is something we have to clear up before I go. I think you're in denial, Vanessa, because I can't recall ever having raped you. In fact, you were a most willing and eager participant. I never once heard you say no. After our time together I didn't think that word was still in your vocabulary."
"Well, I'm saying it now."
She jerked her head up suddenly and slammed her forehead against his nose. Blood poured from his face onto hers as he howled in pain and brought his hands to his face. She fought to get out from underneath him, but he grabbed her head in both hands and slammed it against the floor. On the third hit she saw stars. When she hit the fourth time she lost consciousness.
Vanessa was disoriented when she woke up. It was impossible to know if she'd been out twenty seconds or twenty minutes. She was moving down the hall, but she wasn't walking of her own volition. Was she on a gurney? As she became more aware of the goings on around her she felt his hands on her ankles; Jonathan was dragging her down the hall. Vanessa had no idea where he planned to take her. He turned a corner sharply, and she recognized the interior of his office. If he got her in there, it would be over. They would be alone and completely out of sight. He would be free to do anything he wanted. Vanessa grabbed the door in desperation as he tried to pull her inside.
"Awake, are we?" he asked.
She kicked her legs, trying to free herself from his grasp.
"Vanessa, please; you've maintained a certain level of dignity throughout all of this. Don't lose it now."
Jonathan dropped her ankles and pried her fingers from the door before pulling her inside and kicking it shut with his foot. Vanessa backed away from him into the corner. He didn't come after her right away, as she had expected. He grabbed a box of tissues from his desk and looked in the mirror as he cleaned his bloodied face. She took this opportunity to clean her own face as well, settling for her shirt sleeve in lieu of a tissue. There was nothing around her that could be used as a weapon, nothing at all. She had only her bare hands. Vanessa hoped it would be enough.
"Look what you did," he said, his voice filled with menace. "No shot of morphine for you, Vanessa. It's not going to be that easy now."
Vanessa had always sensed that Jonathan was a powder keg of emotions hidden behind a frigid exterior. He had proven it to her the night before when she had so foolishly given herself to him. The calm and collected if not sinister man had disappeared, and a new man with an undeniable need to frighten and dominate had emerged. He had a lust for power, but he could always control himself, and always knew when to stop. Jonathan had lost that control now. He turned and stalked towards her. Seething hatred filled his eyes. She could not guess his intentions.
He pulled her to her feet and they grappled within that small office briefly before he slammed her into the wall. His hands wrapped around her throat and he squeezed with incredible force.
"You brought this on yourself, Vanessa."
Her nails dug into the side of his neck; he grimaced at the lacerations she inflicted, but refused to let her go. He pushed her harder into the wall. Vanessa fought for air, but felt she was beginning to fade.
"I'm a forgiving man, Vanessa, but you have to earn it. Care to barter for you life? That little mouth of yours is so very skilled."
He licked his lips as he looked at her expectantly. Vanessa shook her head no. She was sick of him and his goddamned sense of entitlement. He felt the whole world and everyone in it belonged on their knees, ready to service him at a moment's notice.
"Suit yourself. You can die if you want to. Either way, you're going to look at me the whole time."
Vanessa drove her knee into his groin repeatedly, then pushed off against the wall with her legs. They fell to the floor again. This time Vanessa was on top, and, more importantly, his hands were no longer around her neck. She scrambled to her feet and threw the door open. As she turned left and ran down the hall she saw the extinguisher fifteen yards away. Vanessa went for it with Jonathan hot on her heels. She grabbed it and swung blindly, catching him on the side of the head. He went down hard and lay there, perfectly still for a moment, before slowly turning onto his back. Vanessa raised the weapon above her head, never taking her eyes off this pathetic form beneath her.
"Can you really do this? Can you kill him?" a little voice inside her asked.
"Yes," she answered, "because if the situation were reversed, he wouldn't hesitate."
"Hey, pretty lady," an unfamiliar voice yelled, causing her to stop short.
A new group of inmates had just made their way onto the fourth floor from God-knew-where. These must be the holdouts, cruising through the asylum looking for prey. These were the best of the best; Arkham's finest.
The cat calls intensified as the men drew closer.
"I'd run if I were you, Vanessa," Jonathan taunted. "These men haven't seen a woman in years. If they get their hands on you, it won't be pretty."
"You should follow your own advice, Jonathan. I bet they haven't seen a man as pretty as you in a while either. I'm sure they'd love a chance to get their hands on the good doctor."
Feeling triumphant, Vanessa bid a hasty retreat down the hall. When she dared to turn around Jonathan was nowhere to be seen, but the other inmates still pursued her. She came to the entrance of the stairwell and pushed against the door. To her horror it did not budge. She threw herself against it in desperation.
"Open, damn you!" she screamed.
They were close to her now, no more than ten feet away. As they closed in around her she pulled the pin on the extinguisher and fired it off. While the mob was driven back and temporarily blinded, Vanessa slammed the butt of the extinguisher against the door handle. She was relieved when it gave way and the door opened. She flew down the stairs, never looking behind her to see if anyone followed. She exited on the second floor and surveyed her apparently deserted surroundings. After a bit of cautious searching she discovered a small storage closet and barricaded herself inside. Vanessa huddled in the corner, only now having the chance to realize just how shaken up she really was.
The asylum lost power during the night, which wasn't surprising. Vanessa stayed there in the dark, listening to the riots outside as the room grew colder. Somehow she managed to fall asleep, even though she shivered uncontrollably.
The sound of the door being broken down roused her from her sleep. At first she thought it was Jonathan or one of the other inmates coming for her, but she was chilled to the bone and too weak to do anything about it. She didn't even sit up.
"Gotham City Police Department, open this door or we'll break it down."
You're going to have to break it down, Vanessa thought, because I can't seem to get up.
It took them a while to penetrate the fortress she had constructed, but they eventually managed to enter the room.
Was she falling asleep again? It felt that way.
"Vanessa, I've been looking everywhere for you," Sergeant Gordon said as he rushed to her side. "You're cold as ice. Can you walk?"
He didn't wait for her to answer. He scooped her into his arms and yelled for someone to bring him a blanket.
"Just tell me you caught Jonathan. Tell me he didn't get away," she said as coherently as possible.
"He's gone, Vanessa. We don't know where he is. I'm sorry."
"He'll come after me," she stated flatly.
"Not if I can help it."
Author's Note: Yeah! Vanessa finally kicked butt, it's about time.
For those of you who were wondering; that is the same door that gave Julie trouble back in chapter 10. Somebody should really call maintenance.
Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews and a special thanks to Not Human for the beta-read and for helping me overcome my fear of comas.
