9. You Disappoint Me July 25
Jenny sat at her kitchen counter, thinking. Jonathan was in the living room, lying on the couch. She didn't know if he was asleep or just reading. She didn't really care. She still had no idea what to do with him. Her brother was worse off than she had realized, and she was beginning to think he might not live through this. The thought was oddly terrifying. Although she didn't like him, she knew Ra's al Ghul was one of the most powerful people alive. The thought that one man had taken him down was disturbing.
She reflected that she was glad Jonathan had not seen Ra's, and the result of the latter's encounter with Batman. Jonathan seemed to be a little frightened of the batman, and she didn't want to make it worse. It was bad to frighten someone teetering on the edge of sanity. Not that she blamed him. He had been gaining power until Bruce Wayne had returned with a vengeance. She was scared of the man, too. He appeared to be a little off-balance, to put it lightly.
But that wasn't an immediate problem. What to do with Crane? That was the issue of the moment. Her options hadn't changed any, only her opinion. He was scary. But it seemed to be unintentional at times. She wondered if he had a split personality or something similar. Regardless, he was probably insane, and it was foolish of her to keep him here. The sooner he was gone, the better.
Except… except what? Except he didn't want to be the way he was any more than she did. Or, at least, he seemed to feel that way. But perhaps he was as good at being deceptive as she was. He hadn't shown any interest in getting his briefcase, and thus his weapons, back. But why? What did he plan to do without them? It wasn't as though he could go back to being a normal citizen. How could she figure this out? She smiled a little. I could ask him, she thought, shaking her head.
"Dr. Crane?"
He sat up and looked at her. "Yes?"
"May I ask you a question?" she said slowly.
He looked suspicious. "I suppose."
"If I let you go right now, what would you do?"
He frowned, considering. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "I guess I'd have to figure out how to be a man on the run."
She smiled. "But you have no plans or anything?"
"Not really."
"I see," she said. She looked back down at the counter.
Jonathan watched her for a moment, waiting. "Is that all?" he asked finally.
"What? Oh, yes. Thanks," she replied absently.
He shrugged, and returned to reading.
Well, that's odd, she thought. He had seemed like such a conniving person. If she were an outlaw, she was sure that she would have taken as much as possible to help her out. But he had refused. She didn't know what his motives were. She was usually so good at reading people. What had happened? Well, she supposed she'd never tried a psychiatrist. Certainly he would know how to make her think she understood him. However, he didn't appear to be doing very well.
Let's review what I know about him, she thought. He was the youngest person to ever be put in charge of Arkham. He had been trying to make a difference, then. So, what had happened to make him work for Ra's? She didn't know. It was probably important, but she wasn't about to pry into his personal life. What else did she know? He was nearly driven mad by his own toxin, as well as his fear of Batman. After that, he had ridden around terrorizing people until Rachel Dawes had shot him with a taser. He had fallen off his horse, and then she had found him.
But what had she learned since he'd been living with her? He didn't seem to be that insane most of the time. On two occasions, he had attacked her. What was similar about them? She had been aggressive first, she realized. Well, I'd better take note of that, she thought. What else? He had no real desire to leave. She figured that it was safe to assume he didn't want to work for any other crime bosses. But what else did he have? Nothing. Only a briefcase and a burlap sack to remind him of his former glory. Why choose that for a mask? Scarecrow, she thought.
Suddenly, it occurred to her that it wasn't the first time she'd heard of a scarecrow. Jenny leapt to her feet, startling Jonathan. "What is it?" he asked.
She ignored him, and rushed to her bookshelf. There, covered with dust, was her brother's old high school yearbook. She pulled it down, and flipped through the pages to the index. "Aha!" she said triumphantly. He stared at her blankly. "I knew I'd heard of you somewhere before," she explained, handing him the book.
He looked to where she pointed, and saw a picture of himself. He cringed a little. He'd had a black eye that day. Of course, he'd had black eyes most of the time, as it were. "Where did you get this?" he asked, mystified.
Smiling, she flipped the pages, and pointed to another picture. He stared.
"My brother. He told me about you," she said thoughtfully. "Everyone mocked you all the time. I felt sorry for you," she added softly.
"Funny, I don't remember you at all," he said, looking at her oddly.
"That's because I wasn't bothering you," she replied. "And I was… am a couple years younger than you."
"Ah." He was silent for a moment, staring at the yearbook. "Why did you say aha?" he asked politely.
"Because I knew I recognized you from somewhere. After you became the head of Arkham, and newsworthy, I started to pay more attention to you. But I could never figure out how I knew you."
"Well, now you know," he said emotionlessly.
"Yes, now I know." She bit her lip. She remembered him well. He'd been gawky and tall even then, and was tortured mercilessly for being "weird." She hadn't thought he was that odd, but he was certainly smarter than the rest of them. Perhaps that's why the other students had hated him. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"For what?" he asked, pulling away from his thoughts.
"For reminding you of how much high school sucked," she told him.
"And how does life differ now?" he inquired bitterly.
"You don't mean that."
"Yes, I do," he said tiredly. "I can't even go outside without being worried about someone recognizing me. It was the same then," he explained.
She sighed. He was staring at the ground, his jaw clenched as he remembered something. She felt bad for having reminded him, and even worse for not helping him sooner. When it might have made a difference. So, she did the only thing she could think to do. She leaned closer and hugged him. He stiffened in surprise. "I'm sorry," she told him. "But you can't change the past."
"I know," he replied, sounding a little disconcerted.
She could hear his heartbeat racing. How cute, she thought, he's scared of me. Smiling, she released him. "Well, I'm tired. I'll see you in the morning," she added.
"Okay," he replied quietly.
She went to her room, closing the door behind her. She leaned against it and let out her breath slowly. "There's no use for you to mull over the past, either," she told herself firmly. Then, she prepared for bed.
Jenny was standing on her balcony, thinking. She looked up and smiled at Jonathan. He smiled back, and stood next to her. He slid his arm around her waist, and she looked at up him. His bright eyes were hidden behind his dark hair. The shadows bit into his face beneath his cheekbones, giving them the appearance of jutting out. He leaned down and kissed her gently. Her arms slithered around his neck as he held her closer. Suddenly, she heard clapping.
"Bravo, Doc," a cruel voice said. It seemed to echo throughout her mind. Jonathan stepped away, looking a little sad, but mostly detached.
She whirled around, and saw a dark figure behind her. She couldn't see his face, but she knew who he was. Someone she hadn't seen in years, until today. She stepped back toward the railing. He stepped closer. "Where's your brother, Jenny? Where's your sister? Why have they left you with him?" he asked, pointing to Crane. She shivered, and drew as far away as possible. But he just kept getting closer.
She was screaming. Jonathan stood in her doorway, watching her nervously. Obviously, she was having a nightmare. He didn't know what to do. Waking her was his first inclination, but he wasn't sure that opening her eyes to see him was something she would prefer. None of his patients had ever been happy to wake up and see him. So, he remained in the doorway, indecisive.
"What do you want?" Jenny demanded.
"What do you think I want?" he replied, changing into the man who had attacked her earlier. She screamed. He stepped closer. "Can't you guess?" She kept screaming.
"Miss Ducard?" Jonathan said tentatively. He walked a little closer and tried again. "Miss Ducard? Jenny?" She writhed a little more, still screaming. He took a deep breath, and then walked up to her bed. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Wake up, Jenny!"
She sat up, gasping for air. Her eyes widened in terror when they focused on his face, so close to hers. "Get away!" she whispered, pulling herself against the headboard of her bed. He moved away a little, sitting at the end of her bed.
"Are you okay?" he asked awkwardly.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking a little. "What do you think?" she demanded coldly.
He smiled grimly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No!" she cried quickly. He looked surprised. Then, more calmly, "no."
He took a deep breath, then shrugged. "Very well," he said, rising.
She looked around the dark, empty room. "Wait," she said softly. She reached out and caught his hand. He looked startled. "Hold me," she whispered. He looked a little more surprised, if that's possible, but sat down next to her. Tentatively, he put an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, and he stiffened. Then, he forced himself to relax. He reflected that this was way better than scaring her.
She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory of her nightmare. It was so real… but what did it mean? Or was it merely the product of a long, busy day? She didn't know. But it set her on edge. It occurred to her that she was having more and more nightmares since he had come here.
He looked down at her, then gently brushed the hair out of her face. He felt her tense as he lifted her chin. Her eyes widened in terror. "Get out," she murmured. He blinked in surprise. "Now!"
Without a word, he rose and walked out of her room, closing the door behind him. She put her face in her hands, and cried quietly. He sat down on the couch, thinking. He didn't know if she'd meant for him to leave her room, or her home entirely. With a shrug, he got up and gathered his things. No point in staying if he wasn't wanted. It occurred to him that he wanted to be, well, wanted. He'd repressed that feeling for a long time. "Can't have it resurfacing," he said resolutely. He got out a pad of paper from her desk and scribbled a quick note. Then, he took one of her keys. He let himself out, and locked up behind him. "Goodbye," he said to the door. With that, he went down the stairs, though he didn't know where to go.
Jenny looked up sharply as she heard the door open. What's he doing? It closed and she waited, confused. He's left, she thought numbly. Oh well.
