Chapter 7: Rattle the Cage

Disclaimer: read chapter 1

"What do we got?" Two homicide detectives entered the apartment, receiving a brief from the uniformed officer.

"Two bodies. Neighbors complained about the music being too loud," he pointed at the CD player in the living area. "The landlord comes up here to address the issue, only to find the couple dead in the bedroom."

"Flass," the sergeant addressed his partner to pay attention. The bearded detective moved to the kitchen, helping himself with a bowl of cereal. The sergeant didn't bother to reprimand the man's insensitivity for he had grown used to his behavior, wasted his years looking the other way.

"What?" Flass shrugged nonchalantly, speaking with his mouth full. "It's not like the owner is alive to eat it. Food shouldn't go to waste."

The sergeant detective huffed as he squeezed his strained eyes for a moment. The uniformed officer guided the detectives through the living area and into the crime scene. The sergeant had taken the time to observe the details before going into the bedroom: dog food in a red plastic bowl, the water bowl empty, mousetraps with molded cheese on top in every corner, Shakira quietly jamming in the background, the sticky notes on the fridge. Photos stocked on the shelves, most involved a Hispanic family (two loving parents with their son and daughter), one showed a boy hitting the baseball with his left, and some involved a collage of a smiling young woman in her late twenties hanging on a wall.

Flass opened the door to the bathroom, the opposite direction to the bedroom, whistling at the sight of the unused, scented bubble bath coated in rose petals. He would've taken his shoes off to dip a toe inside, and most of the officers wouldn't mind it one bit. The commissioner did have one-on-one discussions with Flass regarding his body odor.

"Here you go, boys," the uniformed officer gestured to the bodies inside lying on the bed, cuddling together—blood pooling from both parties' heads.

"Damn!" Flass nearly choked and spilled his cereal. "Why buy tickets to see the play when you could easily get the real deal right here?" That comment earned harsh glares from his comrades.

"Which one is the owner of this flat?" his partner asked.

"The man," the uniformed officer responded. "The landlord said his name is Diego Martin. The woman next to him is his girlfriend."

"Was," Flass corrected, accidentally knocking down the burned-out candle jars surrounding the bed.

His partner leaned towards the uniformed man in a whisper, "Munroe, would you mind bringing the landlord up here? I want to take his statement?"

The officer ignored the sergeant detective as he glanced at his partner, instead, almost like he was asking Flass permission to follow the other man's orders.

"I don't think there's any need for the old man, Gordon?" Flass slurped the milk from his spoon. "This case looks pretty open and shut to me—classic case of Romeo and Juliet. Guy dies, girl dies. The end."

"I'll make a deal with you, Flass," the sergeant detective spoke calmly with a hint of irritation in his tone. "You keep eating your cereal while I do all the work."

Flass raised his eyes at him, nearly intrigued, "Including paper?" Gordon rolled his eyes and agreed to bear the labor. The burly detective motioned Officer Munroe to go downstairs to fetch the landlord.

Detective Gordon carefully stepped over the mess and squatted down on the left side of the bed, staring into the teary eyes of the male victim. His soul may have left his body, but the expressions in those eyes remained - fear, pain, and remorse. His lifeless arm draped around the woman who was lying supine on the bed. Her wrists were chaffed from the binds, only her right hand broke free.

The coroner wrote down her findings on the clipboard, not paying mind to the detective's staring eyes, "Okay, we got two gunshot wounds, one for each head - killed instantly.

"Timestamp?"

"I would say around 2:00 AM."

Gordon pulled the strands of the blood-stained perm away from the girlfriend's face with his gloved hands. She was the same lady from the photo collage outside. The expression in her eyes was identical to the male except for the smeared makeup. The smell of piss evaded the air, and it didn't come from Flass's breath this time. Gordon could see the glistening excretion between the woman's thighs, her soaking panties spread to the sheets. She was afraid, alright, and she had every right to be. Gordon closed his eyes briefly, sighing sadly at this display. The woman seemed so young, full of life and dreams - all taken away by this supposedly romantic night. One reason not to let his baby daughter date.

"Ma'am, what the hell happened to you?" he asked as if she alive to hear him.

Flass opened his mouth to speak but quickly wiped the milk that drooled down his chin. "I don't think she can hear you, Gordon." He lifted his spoon as if he was a kindergartner asking the teacher for permission to use the bathroom pass. "Mind if I put my two sense in?"

Gordon didn't bother to suppress the frustration in his groan. It's bad enough that he was here investigating a crime scene on Valentine's Day instead of being at home with his sleeping wife.

"You already put your two sense in with your William Shakespear theory, Flass. Remember, I'm doing your paperwork."

Flass raised his arms in surrender, "Whatever. Just trying to wrap the case up for ya. I'm sure the misses would appreciate that."

"Just eat your cereal," Gordon commanded harshly. He picked up the decorative pillow from the bed with a sticky note attached to it - UNWRAP ME. The writing was cursive, slanted slightly to the right, definitely not the male's style. It must be the girlfriend who wrote it, for she had put more care in the home than the man did. He gazed back down at the victims, only to double-take at something significant on the left side of the woman's neck. He moved more hair aside to find an injection mark with bruising around it. His brows pinched with curiosity. He motioned the coroner forward to examine the neck.

"Huh," she tilted her head, gently pressing the bruise. "That's unusual."

"What?" Flass asked with his mouth full. "What's up?"

"Check the male victim." The coroner who did just that. She shook her head, indicating that she found no signs of the identical mark on the man's neck nor arms.

Gordon looked under the bed, then opened Diego's drawers. He ignored his partner's questions. Flass wondered whether or not Gordon was going to take the man's clothes too.

"I doubt you two are the same size," Gordon retorted quietly. The curly-haired partner rolled his eyes as he ingested more of his cereal.

The detective turned to the uniformed officer, who was watching the scene by the door, and asked, "Did anyone happen to find a syringe or something when preserving the crime scene?"

The officer shrugged, shaking his head, "No, at least, not that I know of."

Gordon asked the coroner to notify him about the drug flowing inside DiCarlo when performing a complete autopsy back in the morgue. The coroner nodded, silently writing down her notes.

"So they doin' drugs?" Flass asked. "They got a bad reaction to the heroin and killed themselves?"

"Not exactly."

"Gordon, c'mon," Flass rolled his eyes as he set the bowl on the nightstand, nearly tripping over the candles on the floor when approaching his partner. "You honestly think this isn't a double suicide?"

"Look at the bodies, Flass. The woman is tied up-"

"Except her hand," the burly detective pointed out.

"That's not the point. The woman is right-handed," his mind flashed back to the handwriting on the sticky note, "but the injection is on her left." Gordon silenced his partner who merely shrugged. "And the fact that it's on her neck and not her forearm; it's obvious that the injection wasn't self-inflicted."

"So the guy tied her up, forcing the lady to do drugs."

"Sir, that's unlikely," the coroner jumped into the conversation, earning harsh looks from Flass. "If they were into drugs, more needle marks would've become more evident on their skin, which I don't see on either party."

"Then maybe they have been popping pills before the heroin! I don't know! How about you shove that hole in the middle of your face or give the clipboard to someone more qualified?" Now it was his turn to receive an angry look. Gordon cast an apologetic gaze to the woman. She huffed and continued writing in silence.

"Okay, let's say you're right. There was a struggle, and the injection wasn't consensual," the burly detective knocked over more candles when approaching the other side of the bed. "She had a bad reaction, seeing shit. She broke free from one tie, took the gun, and shot her lover then herself. Again, a tragic ending to a shitty love story."

"It's possible," Gordon saw the blood flow from the lady's head; it was continuous without interference. It's possible that she did shoot herself from the drug. What of the boyfriend?

"If she shot the boyfriend first, then why is he holding the gun that's pointing at himself and not her?" Gordon challenged, picking up the male victim's left wrist that contained scrapes and indention marks from being bound for so long. Was he tied up to the bed, too? No, the chaffed marks around the woman's wrist didn't match the male's. It looked like he struggled in a chair.

"The gun and the bullet are at his right," the sergeant observed.

"So?" Flass wondered with another careless shrug.

"So, I saw his handwriting and pictures outside," Gordon remembered the writing on the fridge and the picture of the boy holding his baseball bat. "He was left-handed. Why would he shoot on his right if he's left-handed? The trajectory of the bullet to his head doesn't make any sense. The gun shouldn't be pointing at him if he pulled the trigger."

"So, what are you saying?" Flass challenged. "You think this was staged?"

Gordon's eyes caught the scrapes on the floor in front of the bed as if someone had been tied to a chair.

His eyes narrowed in concentration, taking in the details before him: the bodies' positions, the scared look in their eyes, the missing syringe, the fired weapon, and the dog. What happened to the dog?

"Until we get a full statement from the forensics and the neighbors, don't say a word about this to the press, not until we know for sure this is a double murder." The last thing the GCPD needed was a public scare without confirmation. Worst case scenario, they might be looking for a serial killer.

"Would I do that?" the burly cop asked, pulling out his flask from his jacket to sip on.

"No," Gordon grumbled, walking out of the room, "you would report this as a Shakespeare tragedy."

Flass scoffed, asking an officer nearby if he could believe the sergeant who merely shrugged.

"Fucking boy scout," he swigged his drink.

~000~000~000~

Jonathan was in his office, taking a few notes while listening to his sessions through his earphones. He had so much on his plate. He was slowly falling behind schedule.

'So how's it going, Johnny-boy?'

Jonathan halted and narrowed his eyes angrily at his reflection on the computer, mentally speaking to his other half, 'Not in the mood.'

'Oh, come on, Johnny! We barely talked to each other because you kept using that damn pill!'

'And I'm planning on using it again if you aren't quiet!'

'What the hell is with you?! Since you started hanging out with that... slut-' Jonathan widened his eyes, couldn't believe what Scarecrow had just called Kathryn, '-you've been distant with me, and you've forgotten about the plan!'

'Watch your mouth! Don't talk about Kathryn like that!' Jonathan snapped angrily.

'And why not?' Scarecrow's anger eventually died down, letting out a wicked chuckle.

Jonathan couldn't understand why Scarecrow was laughing, 'What's wrong now?'

'You're getting attached, my friend.'

Jonathan rolled his eyes and leaned back against his chair.

'It's almost half a year, Crane! You put people in straight jackets faster than this!'

'Kathryn is a special case-"

'Don't make excuses, Johnny-boy. Don't pin me as stupid. I am the other half of you. The scar freak is a special case, yet you didn't have a problem with him. Let's not forget about your previous guinea pigs. Some were smart, but that didn't stop you from doing the deed either.'

'I experimented on the immigrant's girlfriend," Jonathan's mind flashed that night - how he watched the woman suffer - how she managed to break free and retrieve the gun from the nightstand drawer. Honestly, Jonathan didn't see that coming. He wasn't a murderer. He didn't intend for the woman to die, but it happened. There was nothing he could do about that except to tie up loose ends, and that was Diego Martin. The doctor reminded himself that this was for the greater good, for-

'For the cat's honor, not mine!' Scarecrow finished that thought.

'He left her to die!'

'My point exactly! You're no different than the driver. You don't give a damn who you hurt either. You wouldn't experiment on anyone for the sake of someone else, let alone have the heart to save anyone's life... until she came along,' he growled at that observation. 'That bitch is softening you up, Crane, and if you're not going to do anything about it, then I will!'

'You know something, my friend,' Jonathan smirked, silently amused by Scarecrow's tantrum. 'I don't think you're upset because I haven't hurt her yet.'

Scarecrow paused, confused by Jonathan's statement, 'What are you trying to say?'

Now it was Jonathan's turn to have a good laugh. 'I think you envy Kathryn because I've been spending far more time with her than you.'

'What?!' Scarecrow's shout didn't make Jonathan flinch.

'You forget that I'm a doctor. I can tell when someone is green with envy. You think that since I'm with Kathryn, you would eventually be out of the picture for good.'

'I don't give a damn about how much time we spend together! What I hate is that she's turning you against me!'

'She doesn't even know you!'

'Yet, Crane. She doesn't know about me... yet.'

Did Jonathan really want Kathryn to meet his dark side? The Scarecrow was right about one thing. She had been a distraction, but a good one. She was the only person who knew his tastes; he had the bear to prove it. She didn't ignore him. She was intrigued about what he was going to say. Back in high school, girls were easy to be friends with than boys - more sensible and less violent. Kathryn was his first real companion since the move.

'Do you really want to repeat your mistakes, Crane? Remember-'

'I'm not attached,' Jonathan was getting tired of having this conversation. He should've taken his medicine early this morning to keep his half quiet.

'Then prove it!' Scarecrow challenged him. 'If you don't feel anything for her, then this shouldn't be a problem for you. And if you say "not until you figure out the bitch's fear" one more time, I am going to scream!'

Jonathan sighed heavily.

When the session reached the climax, a door slammed shut. Jonathan quickly turned off the tape and ripped the earphones from his ears. He gazed up to see two women in his office - the first he recognized all too well, and the other was the receptionist - Emma.

"S-Sorry, D-Doctor Crane," Emma stammered. "I-I-I told her you were busy."

"It's fine, Miss Thomas," Jonathan dismissed her, slyly closing his notebook. Emma furrowed her brows, looking at Kathyrn, Jonathan, and then the journal on his desk.

"You can go now, Miss Thomas," he insisted. The woman widened her eyes, quickly hurried out the door, closing it behind her. Kathryn let out a chuckle, shaking her head.

"What?" Jonathan asked.

"That woman is afraid of you."

"And?"

Kathryn shrugged her shoulders as she slyly moved towards his desk, gazing down at the notebook and recorder. "What are you working on so intently?"

"Work," Jonathan replied in a dismissing tone.

"I thought I heard you talking to someone."

Jonathan tensed at the words, forcing himself to remain calm and make a mental note not to talk to himself in his office. The last thing he wanted was for Kathryn to know about him, not yet. His jaw clenched as he heard the snickers from his half.

"You did. I just got off the phone with Mr. Barren, one of Gotham's defense attorneys. He requested a psychiatric report for his client currently on trial," he smirked at the curious twinkle in the girl's eyes. No doubt she was holding her tongue, wanting to know who he was talking about. "I can't go into details. It's all confidential, Kathryn. You understand."

"Yeah, well... I could go back to my office and wait-"

"No. No. It's fine," Jonathan scooted his chair away from his desk, gazing up at Kathryn intently. "You have my attention, Kathryn," he uttered deeply.

"I'm sorry," Kathryn apologized, clearing her throat. "Didn't mean to barge in like this."

"You're supposed to be in bed."

"I was in bed for three days. My doctor cleared me yesterday. I called Dr. Arkham, and he gave me the okay. Although... I do feel a bit anxious about coming back here with... you-know-who lurking around."

"Kathryn," Jonathan couldn't help but laugh at everyone's pathetic fear of speaking the inmate's name out loud, "he is not going to hurt you. I set up extra precautions. He is going to be locked up in solitude from now on. No one will go in or out without approval, and trust me, Arkham and I won't approve visitation."

"You are afraid?"

"No. Just a precaution for you."

'Liar.'

Jonathan suppressed a groan. He couldn't help but stir slightly when John Doe attempted to stab him with a pen. Luckily, Crane was the man that came prepared, and hopefully, John Doe was in utter terror. Everyone could hear his laugh that lasted for twenty hours straight. He should've been dead by now. It proved the devil himself had possessed him.

"So you are well?" Jonathan asked, returning to the subject at hand.

Kathryn nodded. "Mm-hm."

Jonathan raised himself from his seat and approached. Kathryn stood still, accustomed to his touch on her forehead, down to her cheek.

"Your temperature has gone down tremendously," he observed.

"I am still queasy about eating solid food, but I am taking one step at a time."

"Good. I can tell that you have regained your strength, and you are willing to come back to work. Outstanding," he spoke. The last word would've come off as sarcastic, but not this time. There was a hint of pleasure when he said it as if he was happy to have her back.

Kathryn couldn't help but smile at that. "Yes, I am."

Jonathan returned to his seat, gazing at his papers. "Is that all, Kathryn?"

"Actually... no."

The psychiatrist froze in mid-write, though he didn't turn his head. "Oh? Do we have a session coming up?"

"Yes, but I also want to check-in and see how you're doing. I read the papers about the murder/suicide in the Narrows."

Oh, yes. The story took place behind Summer Gleason's front-page photo and story about her successful career. The police, investigated by Detective James Gordon and Arnold Flass, claimed the illegal immigrant had gone mad in his own depression, up to the point he performed a William Shakespear tragedy with his unwilling girlfriend. Case closed. Nobody cared about the people in the Narrows, for the poor neighborhood was dangerous, where Crane didn't mind living for many reasons.

"It's a tragedy," Jonathan claimed automatically.

"You really should think about moving?"

"And go where?"

Kathryn shrugged, "I don't know. Anywhere but the Narrows, I guess."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Kathryn, I am not going to pack up my belongings and move over an incident that doesn't involve me. Why I want to stay there is - to be frank - none of your business," he closed his mouth, realizing the agitation tone in his voice.

Kathryn heard that, knowing full well what that meant, "Okay. I'm sorry, you're right. Just a matter of opinion is all, disregard what I said." She turned to the door. "I'll let you get back to work." Her arm reached for the doorknob.

"Kathryn."

She turned, still gripping on the doorknob.

Jonathan remained seated, breathing out the words he loathed to say, "My apologies, Kathryn. I know you mean well. It's just..." How could Jonathan put this delicately without sounding like a jerk?

"You're busy," Kathryn claimed. "You're under stress. I understand."

He shook his head, fiddling with the pen between his fingers. "That's not an excuse. You have to let me make it up to you."

"Jonathan-"

"Do you have any plans on your day off?"

Kathryn furrowed her brows, completely taken back, "What?"

He repeated the question.

"Um..." the brunette paused to think before she shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of. Why?"

"Good," Jonathan dropped the pen, finally approaching the confused petite. "I thought that we should go somewhere... different."

Kathryn raised a brow at him. "Different? Crane, you don't have to-"

"I know, but I want to. My treat."

She looked at him, curiously, "Exactly where do you want to go?"

~000~000~000~

The Gotham Park Zoo. Not precisely what Kathryn had expected for a hangout, but Jonathan insisted on going there. The first thing that came into Jonathan's mind to figure out Kathryn's fear was animals. Most people had an alarm for a specific creature, so if Kathryn had any reaction when she's near an animal, then it's mission accomplished. Hopefully, this plan would work.

The couple paid their way inside and walked around. Kathryn still was confused as to why Jonathan chose this location to hang out. She was expecting somewhere original, like a park or a restaurant. The zoo wouldn't be her first choice.

"So why the zoo?" she wondered.

"Just like I said before, we should do something different," Jonathan explained, "unless, you want to-"

"No! No," Kathryn shook her head. "I don't mind. I haven't been to a zoo in years, so..." she trailed off with a shrug.

"Very well. Shall we?" Jonathan gestured her to take the lead. She nodded as she walked past him.

It's been a couple of hours since they had arrived, and they nearly finished looking at all the animals they could find. Kathryn had fun exploring and adoring the cubs. Jonathan, on the other hand, was unlucky. He couldn't get a reaction from her, even when the gorilla made a surprising jump at them. She was shocked initially but then laughed it off and commented on how cute the monkey was hanging upside down on the trees.

The zookeeper was holding one of the monkeys outside, letting the kids have it or pet it. When Jonathan and Kathryn stopped by, the monkey made a surprise attack on the couple. It first jumped on Jonathan's shoulder, then landed on Kathryn to give her a big, wet kiss on the mouth. The petite was disgusted and wiped away the monkey's saliva on her lips. The kids teased that the monkey had Kathryn for a girlfriend.

They sang, "The lady and the monkey sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Jonathan couldn't help but laugh at that. Kathryn's cheeks reddened in embarrassment as she tried to give the monkey back to the zookeeper, but the monkey loved the psychologist too much, clinging onto her for dear life.

They checked out the bugs and arachnids, but Kathryn didn't flinch, only expressed disgust. So her fear of insects was checked off from Jonathan's list of theories. No matter how hard he tried, Jonathan couldn't get a reaction from her.

"This is great," she admitted, looping an elbow around Jonathan's to caress his bicep. "I'm having fun."

Jonathan glared at her for a moment. 'I'm not! I still don't know your fear!' He forced himself to make an approving smile, "I'm glad."

"Are you?" Kathryn asked.

"What?"

"Are you having fun?"

Jonathan shrugged, keeping the smile at bay, "I am, Kathryn. Congratulations on having a monkey for a boyfriend."

Kathryn pried her arm from his, crossed her arms, and glared at Jonathan sternly, while the man couldn't help but laugh. "Ha. Ha. Go ahead, laugh it out. You wouldn't be laughing if the monkey kissed you."

"But he didn't." She rolled her eyes at him. Jonathan chuckled with amusement. "You know you really should learn to take a joke, Kathryn."

"I didn't know you're still doing that," Kathryn held his hand and pulled him towards her. "How about we leave and grab a bite to eat? I'm starving."

Jonathan knew that if they leave, his chances of finding out her fear will slim. At the same time, Jonathan already knew he'd failed. He guessed that Kathryn wasn't afraid of animals nor bugs. She was perfect. Avoiding suspicion, he nodded in agreement.

"I like that."

Kathryn smiled as she clutched his hand and started walking with him, "Great." They never realized it, but they were walking as if they were a couple.

As Jonathan thought his plan was over and done, he froze when his eyes met another place they had yet entered - the Reptile Pavilion.

Kathyrn noticed that he stopped walking and looked at him in confusion. "What is it?"

"Did we check out this place, Kathryn?" Jonathan asked, pointing at the building.

The woman furrowed her brows and glared at the building, precisely the sign.

"Uh, yeah. I think we did. Now let's go," Kathryn locked his arm with hers and began walking again, but she couldn't drag Jonathan along. He proved to be a lot stronger than he looked.

"No," Jonathan shook his head, "that's a reptile place, and as I recall, we hadn't seen any today."

"Hey, we've seen lions and tigers, and bears, and I got kissed by a monkey. I think we can live without seeing those scaly creatures."

"Not all reptiles have scales."

"Yeah, but I'm starving, so let's go. The zoo is probably closing by now."

Jonathan rolled his sleeve up and looked at his watch around his wrist, "No, we got another hour."

"I don't mind leaving early."

"What's the hurry, Kathryn? You're not afraid, are you?" Jonathan could tell that she was holding back. He was smirking on the inside, knowing that he was getting a reaction from her. The reptiles triggered an emotion. To confirm that suspicion, they needed to see the scales in the flesh.

Kathryn shook her head, "No, it's just that I'm really starving."

"Okay. You know, I'm actually curious to see what's in the reptile exhibit."

"Really?" she asked with unease.

"Yes. Don't worry, Kathryn, we go in, take a look around, and leave. Then, before you know it, we'll be sitting down having alfredo."

Kathryn looked at the reptile sign, then at Jonathan, slowly accepting his hand.

"You promise?"

Jonathan nodded, leading her towards the facility. However, Kathryn was walking slower than usual. As soon as they reached the wooden door, her grip tightened on Jonathan's hand. Jonathan could tell she's nervous, yet they hadn't faced a reptile yet.

He opened the door and dragged themselves inside a dark forest exhibit. There were fake vines and steam everywhere to bring that jungle effect. There were lights inside the glasses, where the reptiles took place.

All this time, Kathryn was holding onto Jonathan's hand, refusing to let go. They looked at the tree frogs inside. Kathryn didn't flinch, but she still held onto Jonathan's hand. They moved onto lizards; she didn't squeeze. She watched the lizard crawling on a tree inside the glass exhibit, leaving a trail of prints behind.

Snakes trapped in another large, glass case, slithering around and hissing at each other. Kathy backed up a little and moved on to a different glass case. She looked inside to see a log and leaves at the bottom with a tree at the side.

Jonathan stood next to Kathryn and stared at the creature-less glass case with her.

Suddenly, something hung in front of them, hissing and revealing its two fangs that caused Kathryn to gasp. A green Pit Viper snake was hanging onto a tree branch with its tail and slithering down the tree towards the couple.

Kathryn was staring at the snake with widened eyes and rapid breaths. The snake was staring back at her, still showing off its fangs.

Jonathan glared at her, noticing her reaction right away. "You all right?"

"We need to go," Kathryn whispered.

"But we just-"

"Jonathan, I want to go now," she insisted in a hushed tone.

Jonathan glared at the snake, then at Kathryn, who showed off the pleading look in her eyes. He could tell this was too much for her, so he ended the torture. "All right."

She quickly ran to the exit, not bothering to wait for Jonathan. He already knew what was wrong with Kathryn. A part of him felt accomplished, but the thought of pushing Kathryn inside the reptile place sent in an unknown fuzzy feeling inside his stomach.

"Kathryn?" Jonathan walked outside the reptile facility, looking around the area for her. "Kathryn." He hoped that she didn't leave already.

"Kat-" Finally, Jonathan found Kathryn sitting on a park bench, staring straight ahead. Her face paled as if she had seen a ghost. He could quickly tell, his suspicions of her fear in reptiles had been confirmed. He walked toward Kathryn and asked, "Are you all right?"

Kathryn looked up at Jonathan with watery eyes, but she immediately blinked them out to avoid crying. Was she all right? What did he think?

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jonathan sat down next to her. Kathryn shook her head, refusing that suggestion. "You know, people would feel a lot better if they express their feelings out loud."

Her eyes narrowed in his direction, "You got a lot of nerve, Jonathan."

Jonathan raised a brow. What did she mean?

"Forced me inside, see my reaction - my fear."

His mouth agape, not expecting her reply. She wasn't precisely naive as he wished her to be.

"Fear is your passion. You wanted to know what I'm afraid of. You knew I didn't want to go in there, but you forced me anyway."

"You wouldn't have answered if I asked."

Kathryn scoffed, clenched her fists in one lock. "You brought me here, but not to spend time with me."

"I didn't mean to deceive you," that comment earned another scoff. "We are friends, Kathryn. We should know by now what makes the other tick. You don't have to hide from me, Kathryn. I can see it in your eyes. You have a problem with reptiles."

Kathryn glared at him intently, "No, I don't have a problem with reptiles."

"Well, you hesitated when we came across the facility, then you became frightened at the sight of the pit viper. Coincidence?"

Kathryn ran her finger through her curls, "No. I really don't have a problem with reptiles..."

Jonathan laid back against the bench, frustrated that he wasn't getting answers from her. Her reactions to the reptiles were visible. Why couldn't she admit it?

"It was the snake," she whispered.

Jonathan glared at her, couldn't hear what she said, "What?"

"It was back when I was thirteen... My little sister and I were pitching balls in our backyard. Mom and Dad were inside, doing whatever..." she gasped for breath. She didn't want to talk about it, but Jonathan needed an explanation as to why she freaked out like that. She felt Jonathan's hand stroking her back comfortingly.

"Deep breaths, Kathryn," Jonathan said softly. "It's okay."

Kathryn inhaled through her nose and exhaled through the mouth. She paused for a moment before she continued her story. "I remember overthrowing the softball outside the fence..." Kathryn closed her eyes to replay the scenario in her head. "We weren't supposed to go in the woods by ourselves, but I was a teenager - the responsible adult. I was responsible. I thought I could handle the woods, so I went in."

Kathryn closed her eyes, imaging the scene. Leaf-less trees, broken logs, the filthy creek. Every snapped twig or a frog's croak made her the jump, though there was nothing to be afraid of. Right? She remembered finding the softball by the rocks near the creek.

"By the time I found it, I headed back to the backyard..." Tears were watering Kathryn's eyes again, but she tried to stay active.

"What happened next?" Jonathan asked curiously.

"Before I could turn around..."

She wrinkled her nose, recalling the stinging sensation that almost cost her life - the terror, the numbing pain, the blackout. It was all there in her nightmares. She reached down to her leg and pulled up her legging, revealing a scar with two small marks on her leg. The bite.

"It bit me. I blacked out before I could reach the fence. Dad found me and took me to the hospital. I could've died, you know. Copperheads are poisonous, according to Dad "

Jonathan zoned out, processing her story. He didn't know if he should be happy or not. The good thing about this was that now he figured out Kathryn's greatest fear, but at the same time, he pitied her. He had never got bitten by a snake, but he did have a traumatic day as she did. It made him become someone, a man everyone should fear. What of Kathryn? She had so much to prove as he did. It made him realize that she could potentially be his equal. Become someone that everyone should fear. Maybe not now, but it's possible.

"But you're all right," he declared. Kathy nodded as she clenched her fists, refusing to cry. There was nothing to complain about. What happened, happened. She was alive. That's all it mattered.

She nearly jumped as two icy-cold fingers were rubbing her scar. Her eyes opened to see him circling it with his fingers, examined at it like he was a doctor. No one had ever reacted to her mark as he did. Most people who noticed her wound would pity for her, looking at her like she was a helpless victim. Jonathan... He was different. He was touching her mark, fascinated by it, which wasn't so surprising.

"So does that answered your question, Doctor?" Kathryn asked.

"Yes, it does."

"So?" she offered.

"So?" Jonathan gazed back at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Everyone has a phobia, especially you, Jonathan. You can't deny that. I told you that I have Ophidiophobia. Now it's only fair that you tell me yours. I know it's not my business, but like you said... we should know each other's pet-peeves by now. Maybe I can help if you let me." When he responded in cold silence, Kathy sighed heavily in defeat. "If you're not going to tell me, fine. I'm not you. Your past is your business, and if you don't want to talk about it... That's fine. I'll wait until you're ready."

Was she trying to pull the reverse psychology trick? Jonathan stared at her to see if she was serious, but all he saw was empathy. She cared for him as no one did. The same warm, fuzzy feeling churned Jonathan's insides once more. There was only one question that was haunting his mind. Did he need to hurt her?

"Jonathan?" Kathryn's sweet voice brought Jonathan back to reality. "You okay?"

Jonathan laid his other hand on top of her hand, silently assuring her that he was well. Kathryn stared at their linked hands, then gazed back at his face. Then she realized the distance between them, too close for comfort.

"Um... I-"

Before she could even respond, an invisible force pulled their faces closer. What was happening? Their eyes fluttered closed as their lips lightly brushed against each other.

They broke apart almost hesitant to continue. She slid her hands up to his shoulders. Instead of pushing him away as Crane expected, she grabbed the collar of his suit and pulled him closer kissing with passion and want. She wanted him. He was her caffeine, the kind that she couldn't get enough of. One taste drew her in, becoming addicted.

'He shoots! He scores!' Scarecrow cried out inside Jonathan's mind.

Jonathan widened his eyes, realizing what they were doing. He cupped Kathryn's cheeks and pushed her away, gasping for breath as her. One question invaded his mind. What the hell did they just do? Kathryn looked up at him in confusion as he stood from the bench; his back turned away from her.

"Are you okay?" she realized that was a stupid question. She knew that Jonathan wasn't okay. They kissed, and Jonathan instantly regretted it.

"Look, I'm sorry..." she honestly didn't know what to say, "but it-it just... happened."

Jonathan finally gathered the courage to face her. Kathryn wasn't sure how he would respond to this, but she had to guess it won't end well.

"Yes, it did..." he replied with narrowed eyes, "and it will never ever happen again!"

Kathryn's eyes grew extensive hurt from Jonathan's words. It was one kiss. What's the big deal?

"Jonathan?" Kathryn tried to talk to him, but he left the area, forcing her to follow. "Jonathan, wait!" He didn't respond to her call, heading straight to his car.

"Jonathan, please talk to me!" Jonathan ignored her as he opened his car door and stepped inside the driver's seat. Kathryn quickly opened the passenger's door before Jonathan could lock it and stepped inside his car.

"Okay, I get it! Okay? I get you're upset, but it's just one kiss. It's not like we did anything further."

"Like what, Kathryn?" Jonathan demanded in a harsh tone. "I fuck you on the bench, back there?"

Her eyes widened again; she couldn't believe what came out of Jonathan's mouth. "I wouldn't go that far. Jonathan, I think you're overreacting... just a smidge."

"How can you be so calm about this, Kathryn? We're co-workers."

"It's okay-"

"No, it's not okay! There's a line, Kathryn, that shouldn't be crossed."

"Jonathan-"

"Don't call me that!" he snapped, making her jump. He looked at her in the corner of his eye and instantly regretted shouting at her.

"Look..." He ran his fingers through his hair, taking off his glasses before pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, but you must understand that this can't happen again-"

"Jonathan, it's just one kiss. You're acting as if you're a teacher who kissed one of his students- o-or a doctor with his patient- it's not like that at all! This isn't illegal!"

'She has a point, Jonathan,' Scarecrow jumped into the conversation, mocking Kathryn's tone when uttering Crane's name.

"Shut up!" Jonathan snapped angrily at Scarecrow but didn't realize that he said it out loud.

"Excuse me?!" Kathryn yelled back, clearly upset about the way he was treating her as she should.

"Kathryn, listen to me. We'll get fired! Do you understand that? We have a rule in Arkham. In case you didn't know. We can't do this with each other. It's completely unprofessional, unethical-"

"I know-"

"You know what?" Jonathan sadly smiled, raising a hand in surrender. "I should be the one apologizing."

"What for?" she demanded.

"I'm the chief administrator of Arkham. I should've seen it coming. I should've nipped it in the bud sooner before it got out of hand." Kathryn rolled her eyes at his explanation. "I should've stopped it before we crossed the line. I take full responsibility."

"I'm not a little kid, Jonathan. I can take some of the blame, too! The kiss wasn't all your fault. It wasn't all your fault. Look, we didn't do anything wrong. It's just one kiss. Just one. It's not like there were doctors here watching us-"

"Consider us lucky we weren't in Arkham, or we would've been in serious trouble!"

Kathryn sighed, laid her head back against the seat.

Jonathan stared at the view outside. He suppressed the urge to comfort the girl, for it would've led to more confusion and unnecessary niceties.

"Kathryn... It's best if we part ways."

She glared at him in shock.

"I'm not the man for you. It's best if you keep your distance."

Keep her distance? That's by far the cheesiest, worst thing a man should say to a woman. If he said those words, it's an encouragement to become obsessive and do the opposite. This man was like an enigma. He was a riddle that must be solved.

"Jon-"

"Just get out. Please? Just get out."

Knowing there was nothing else she could do to sway him otherwise, Kathryn opened the car door and stepped out of the vehicle. She stared at Jonathan for a brief moment, the last time she could look at him as a friend. The door slammed shut as she hurried back to her car. Jonathan laid his back against the seat, breathing heavily.

'You're an idiot!'

"Excuse me?" Jonathan asked out loud.

'Why the hell did you let her go?! You shouldn't have let her get away! She could've stayed, and you two would've gone all the way - both sexually and psychologically!'

'That's not going to happen!'

'But a part of you want it to happen. Admit it! You like the kiss as much as she does!'

'It doesn't matter if I liked it. We can't do this. It's-'

'Against the rules, I get the point. Like the girl would share this secret.'

'No! I'm not going to cross the line again. I don't want to lose my job. Nothing is going to happen between Kathryn and me! Nothing!'

'Well, if you aren't going to fuck her, are you going to at least end her?'

Jonathan widened his eyes at his half's question. "What?!"

'You finally know her fear, Doctor. We can test the toxin on her now, right?'

Not wanting to hear it anymore, Jonathan opened his glove compartment and pulled out his prescribed medication.

'What are you doing?'

'I'm not going to let you hurt that woman.'

'Oh, my God! You do care about her!'

Jonathan couldn't think straight; he was confused. Scarecrow was only making it worse. Everything about Kathryn affected him. He was going soft; she brought out a side he refused to show. She cared for him, unlike his parents, his grandmother, or the kids from school. Deep down, he felt the same way with her.

'So what if I do care?'

'This wasn't part of the plan, Crane! We insert the toxin in her, she screams for us, and then we let her rot in a patted cell. That's it!'

Jonathan was having none of it. He popped the pill in his mouth and swallowed.

'She's going to break your heart, the same way she did.'

The psychiatrist waited for the voices to dissipate finally.

As much as Jonathan hated to admit it, he did like the kiss. He could still feel how her strawberry lips mashed with his. After what he said to her, Jonathan knew that she didn't want to talk to him nor come near him again as she should. It was for the best. She'll move on. Men will come charging, gifting her things that he couldn't give her, just like her.

Closing his eyes, he pictured the stuffed bear back in his apartment, nestling by the clock on his nightstand, staring back at him with its soulless eyes and the stitch knife in hand. She was the death of him, yet he chose to spare her.

Eventually, the fuzzy feels will go away, just like last time.

He let out a sharp sigh, turning the keys in the ignition.

"It's for the best."

...

Kathryn remained in the driver's seat, shaking by Jonathan's words. That kiss that they shared, in her opinion, was the best ten seconds of her life. Unfortunately, Jonathan was overreacting. Her eyes burned with tears, unsuccessfully holding them back.

"I'm so stupid!" Kathryn cried out loud as she banged on the steering wheel a couple of times until she accidentally hit the car horn. The woman immediately stopped when she noticed a few pedestrians stopped and stared at her as if she was insane. She covered her face with her hands and leaned back against the car.

How was she ever going to get past this? Kathryn liked Jonathan, even though he had his chilling robotic moments. Unfortunately, the part of her - the wise part of her - believed him to be right. They had a job in Arkham. There were rules in Arkham. They couldn't be together, even if they both wanted it.

It's for the best.