Chapter 16: The Adrenaline Rush
A/N: Reader, beware. This is a mature horror/love story. Therefore you could be in for a scare.
EDIT: 11/2022
Kathryn was torn between calling 911 to aid the injured man or watching the scene play out from the sidelines. She had witnessed Crane bestow intimidation and dominance, but she had never seen Crane initiate violence on anybody. The broken mirror was the appetizer before the main course was presented to her downstairs. Jonathan was under a lot of stress, she knew it as much, and she didn't help by butting in and answering his private phone. Whoever the man was downstairs, he must've done something to unlock the headless horseman's wrath. Kathryn feared the same fate for herself if she had called an ambulance.
Going downstairs to tend to the stranger's wounds wasn't an option because he was a stranger. After all, she was dating the doctor who punched him in the first place. It was oddly ironic because both Kathryn and Crane had sworn to do no harm.
"You alright, man?" Fortunately for Kathryn, a neighbor called him out downstairs. Kathryn couldn't see nor care to know who; only listened.
The man laughed it off while dabbing the blood off his nose, "Oh, no. I'm good, sir. My friend and I were messing around, that's all."
"You serious? I saw the whole thing! That's assault! You gotta report it and then sue his ass."
"I appreciate the concern, but I'm okay," the man insisted. "This is on me. I pissed him off."
"Well, at least get an X-ray for that nose."
"This is nothing. You have a good night, sir." The fact that the man refused to call the cops or get checked out in a hospital was weird. Worse, Kathryn spotted the man's head aiming in her direction. It was hard to read his expression from the height and without her glasses, but he was staring too long, now considered a creeper. Was he even looking at her? She tested her theory by waving. Her heart picked up the pace, and her stomach dropped when he reciprocated.
"Good to see you, Mrs. Crane!" he cried happily. Kathryn's eyes widened, and gasped, stepping away from the balcony rail. "Mind inviting me up for a drink?" Kathryn quickly ducked back inside and locked the glass door behind her, hyperventilating. Her mind feared he might find her condo number, recalling the man's invitation.
"Sugar!" Kathryn ran to the door to lock it and checked through the peephole to ensure he wasn't standing outside. She parted the curtain slightly to double-check the parking lot. He wasn't around, much to her relief.
"Okay..." she breathed out. "Okay, you're okay. Just breathe." The first thing to do was finish her drink to calm her nerves, then pick up the mess in the bathroom. The last thing she wanted was for Elise to come home and freak out over the mess. It took a while to sweep off the glass into the bin, double bagging it for safety precautions, then sanitize the counter and throw the bloody towels in a separate laundry load. She had turned the music at high volume, trying to sing along as she cleaned to get it done faster and not let her mind wander. Unfortunately, the task proved problematic when the wipes gained color. She almost pictured Crane punching the mirror in a fitted rage. She didn't think it was possible, but after seeing what happened... Kathryn stopped herself, realizing that she was going back there. She needed to push through it for Elise.
Just as she was about to risk going outside to dump the glass bag away, Kathryn nearly dropped it and stumbled on her footing when she saw the door wide open. "Holy shhh..." she covered her mouth. Somebody broke in here. It couldn't be the creeper because he had already left.
Or did he?
"Sugar!" Kathryn mouthed out, now panicking. She analyzed her surroundings to see nobody around nor hear anyone alert their presence. That wasn't a good sign. It didn't take long for her to figure out what to do. There was an intruder in the home, and freedom was handed to her on a silver platter, allowing her to run for her life and find someone with a cell phone to call the police. She couldn't get her phone. There wasn't enough time. She could only drop the bag and snag a knife from the island table as a precaution before bolting outside and turning left, only to bump into someone by the doorway. They both screamed and backed away from each other. Kathryn extended her arm that gripped the knife while the scarer dropped a twelve-pack of cola that erupted and fizzed uncontrollably from the impact.
"Whoa! Whoa! What the hell?!" Elise repeatedly screamed, raising defensive hands in front of her. Meanwhile, Kathryn gasped for breath as she bent her elbow slightly but didn't put down the knife immediately. "Kat!" her roommate repeated. "What the hell are you doing with that?! Put that down! Are you insane? You could've stabbed me!"
"I'm sorry - I'm sorry. I thought you..." Kathryn averted her gaze at both ends of the hallway to ensure the creeper wasn't present.
"You thought I was what?!" Elise demanded only to back against the wall when the knife aimed at her. "What happened?!" The petite didn't answer her immediately, much to her roommate's annoyance and anxiety. "Kathryn, stop it! Put that fucking knife down now! You're scaring me!"
Kathryn apologized, lowering the knife immediately, "Sorry! You freaked me out. The door was wide open, and nobody-"
"That was me," Elise explained, angrily gesturing to the ruined groceries. "I was carrying the drinks upstairs by myself. Forgive me for not trying to open the door with my hands full! I did knock and call your name. Didn't you hear me?" Kathryn's shaking head and the booming music inside answered her question.
Elise huffed and rolled her eyes, "Okay, did Crane leave? Is my couch still intact?"
"Lise," Kathryn shook her head, "please don't start."
"Start what? You're the one who made me drop the drinks and waved a knife in my face. I mean, look at this mess!"
"Don't worry about that," Kathryn insisted as she guided her friend inside the condo, taking note of her surroundings.
"What?!" Elise cried in shock. "What do you mean?" Her questions were ignored as she watched Kathryn lock the door and peek into the peephole. "Kat, answer me! What the fuck is going on?! Where's Cray-Crane?"
"He left," Kathryn answered.
"Okay..." Elise drawled, not entirely sure why the sudden panic. "Seriously, what's wrong? Did Crane make you watch a scary movie? You know how you are with them! Why do you even try?"
Kathryn took a deep breath, reluctantly putting the knife back in place. "Okay, look... I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm just on edge, that's all."
"On edge from what?" her friend pressed, folding her arms across her chest. "Did you and Crane have a fight or something?" Kathryn couldn't help herself and nearly cursed herself for it. She not only hesitated to answer by three seconds but didn't look at her friend as she lied.
"Seriously, Kat?" Just because Kathryn gained a degree in psychology didn't mean she was the only expert in body language. Elise wanted to be happy that the couple wasn't getting along, meaning there could be a chance of them breaking up. On the other hand, how Kathryn acted minutes ago didn't sit well with the pre-law graduate. "What did he do? Did he hurt you?"
"No," Kathryn dismissed. "It wasn't like that! Although..." she cringed at the mess in the bathroom, eyeing the trash bag by the island table. Even if Kathryn did manage to toss the bag away before her friend came home, it didn't mean Elise wouldn't notice her reflection missing. She was going to find out eventually. When Elise asked about the bag, Kathryn told the truth. "There's been an accident."
Elise's eyes widened, nearly choked on her breathing, "What kind of accident?"
"Jonathan was in the bathroom, and he..." When Kathryn wasn't quick enough to give Elise the answer she needed, Elise took it upon herself to investigate, ignoring her friend's protest and insistence that it was an accident. Her breath hitched at the sight of a missing mirror and the bloody wipes in the mini crystal can.
"It's not mine," Kathryn assured her.
"Are you kidding me?!" Elise tilted her head in Kathryn's direction to give her a questionable look. "You two had a fight, and-and - look what he did to my mirror!"
"I'll pay for the mirror."
Elise's respect for her friend slowly drained after hearing that. The blonde couldn't help but laugh bitterly, "No, you are fucking not! He did this, not you!"
"I know, but it was an accident!"
"Kathryn, listen to yourself! You two had a fight!"
"No!"
"Yes! You two fought, so he decided to take his anger out on my mirror! You expect me to give him brownie points for not hitting you instead?!"
"No, we weren't fighting then," Kathryn clarified, speaking the half-truth. "We argued after that."
"About what?" Elise pressed. Before Kathryn could answer, there was an insistent pounding on the door and a voice barking on the other side that barely overpowered the music. Elise was the first to hear it, asking if Kathryn had heard it.
"No, as I was-"
"Sh-sh-sh!" Elise picked up the remote to turn off the stereo and asked who was there. This time they could hear the authoritative voice behind the front door crystal clear.
"GCPD, open it!"
The blonde groaned and slapped her hands against her thighs, "Now what?!" She stomped to the door but didn't open the door right away. She peeked through the hole and demanded the two policemen (who weren't dressed in uniform) show her their badge numbers and names. Elise instructed Kathryn to get her phone to call the dispatcher. Once they received confirmation that these were real cops, Elise opened the door, revealing Gordon and Flass, who grumbled about the beer on the floor.
"Evening, ladies," Gordon greeted, introducing himself and his partner. "We're sorry to disturb you, but-"
"Who did this?" Flass interrupted, sounding outraged as he gestured to the mess on the floor. "Who would leave a pack of beer behind like this?" The soda pack may have been forgotten, but the beer remained intact. "That's a crime!"
"I dropped the other pack-" Elise tried to explain, but the burly detective didn't want to hear it.
"Fuck the soda! You could still save the beer!"
Gordon patted his partner's shoulder, silently telling him to take it easy before addressing the blonde, "I'm sorry about him. We-"
"Are you guys seriously going to arrest me for the mess?"
"Not at all, but I need to ask... is everything okay?" Gordon wondered, still uneasy about the mess as if someone had dropped the drinks to get away from something or someone.
"I don't know," Elise answered honestly. "You guys are here. Can I help you with anything?"
"Actually, yes. You see... We've received a tip that-"
"That the Creeper is lurking around the premises," Flass explained, "and we have reason to believe that he might be here in this apartment."
"Condo," Elise corrected, "and there is no creep here... anymore."
"Meaning?"
Elise looked over her shoulder to ask her friend, "Kat, is Cray-Crane hiding in your bedroom?"
"No!" Kathryn cried. "I told you, he left!"
"Who?" Gordon asked.
"Oh, sorry, detective," Elise returned her attention to the policemen, "I was talking about Kat's creepy boyfriend who broke my mirror. Are you searching for him? I'll be happy to tell you where he works so you can hand him the bill for my new mirror. Jonathan Crane, have you boys heard of him?"
"Ma'am, we are not talking about Doctor Crane," Gordon clarified, sticking his hand in his coat pocket. Kathryn furrowed her brows, picking up a specific detail in that statement. "We're looking for Jack Ryder, who is a person of interest in Summer Gleeson's death." Gordon pulled out a photo of the perp for the women to look at. Elise widened her eyes and held her breath at the sight of the creeper, recognizing him immediately. "We fear he could be here to either intimate you or cause harm." Kathryn stepped closer to see the man's face. The curly hair matched the guy Jonathan punched in the parking lot. It was clear the two knew each other, but judging how they interacted, it was anything but friendly.
"Why would he come here?" Elise asked. "We don't know him, nor do we want to-"
"That's him," Kathryn confirmed, tapping on the photo. "I saw him earlier tonight." Before Gordon could ask if she was positive, Kathryn insisted that despite not wearing her glasses, it was Jack, without a doubt. "I saw him in the parking lot, pursuing my... my friend."
"Friends with benefits?" Flass offered, earning a flabbergasted look from Kathryn and a scolding from his partner.
"Ew," Elise grumbled, trying to force the image out of her head.
"Anyway..." Kathryn continued as if she hadn't been interrupted, "after he left, the guy tried to talk to me about coming up here to have a drink with him."
"Did you?" Flass asked. Kathryn's face contorted in disgust, shaking her head.
"Ladies," Gordon addressed the women, hovering a hand over his holster, "for your safety and permission, we insist we take a look around."
"I doubt he's here. Kathryn did lock the door when I got home," Elise then scoffed with amusement in her voice. "You boys seriously think he climbed through the window just to jump out and scare us like those serial killers on TV? We're on the fifth floor, and this place doesn't have a fire escape."
"He doesn't have to rock climb up here. Anybody can break in with a bobby pin; it's that easy," Flass pointed out. "And not to mention, y'all left the music on high and not paying to shit like the dumb bitches on TV, making the Creeper's job ten times easier." The woman trailed off in consideration and saw the determined look on Gordon's face and Kathryn's puppy pout. As for Flass, he couldn't care less, except for the abandoned pack of beer on the floor. He even crossed the professional line to ask if he could take it.
The blonde huffed and tilted her head back, "Fine."
"I can have the beer?" Flass perked with a mixture of shock and glee.
"No!" Elise clarified as she widened the door, allowing the cops inside.
The detectives entered. Gordon checked out the kitchen and noticed the bag of glass. He asked about it, assuming it was the broken mirror Elise mentioned earlier.
"Yeah, Kat," Elise repeated mockingly, folding her arms across her chest, "what did happen?"
"It was an accident," Kathryn clarified with gritted teeth. If she had to repeat herself one more time... Gordon checked under the sink while Flass checked the pantry, rummaging through the snacks and wine.
"Uh, I don't think he's hiding between the shelves, Officer," Elise said to Flass.
He shrugged and continued the task, "You can never be too careful, Miss Sinclair." Elise inhaled sharply, glancing over at her friend in the corner of her eye. Kathryn's lips twitched, knowing fully that the two knew each other somehow through her other job. Fortunately, Gordon didn't ask for the women's identities as he searched in the bathroom. Kathryn explained to Gordon that the bloody wipes in the trash bag had something to do with the accident and insisted that was why her friend left.
"What about you, ma'am?" Gordon asked. "Are you injured?"
"No," Kathryn dismissed the concern as she checked her arms without thinking, "I wasn't in there when it happened."
"I'll check out the bedroom," Flass announced as he climbed the stairs, pocketing a chocolate chip protein bar from the pantry.
"I'll supervise," Elise hurried after him in case he decided to go through her underwear drawer. Kathryn did feel self-conscious about the police walking into her piles of clothes that hadn't been washed or put away because she was too tired to do them. The maid was supposed to come by next week. The men searched under the bed, behind the doors, and inside the closets - no Jack Ryder. Meanwhile, Elise remained protective in her room, her bottom pressed against the top left drawer of her dresser. Flass noticed and couldn't help but laugh and ask intrusive questions like whether or not she had drugs, playboy magazines, or a client list in her possession.
"None of your business," Elise stated, sliding to the other side when Flass reached for the drawer. It quickly became a game between them that Elise didn't appreciate, especially when he took the time to sniff her perfume and comment on it. "Back off," Elise began in a low menacing tone. "Unless Jack invented a shrinking mechanism, or you got a warrant in hand, you have no reason to go through my drawers. Period."
Flass laughed, taking a small step back. "Why bother hiding? We all know who you are. I'm gonna meet your daddy later tonight. I'll tell him you said 'hello.'" Elise rolled her eyes, only for her insecurity to quickly wash over her when she spotted Kathryn standing by the doorway. The blonde ducked her head but remained in place.
Kathryn left Elise with Flass, refusing to hear more details about Elise's side job. She entered her bedroom to watch Gordon, who wasn't invasive compared to Flass. The detective was respectably quiet, not once critiquing the mess on the floor.
When Kathryn tried to apologize for it, Gordon dismissed it. "Hey, no worries. I got kids, and when you swear to protect and serve this city full time, you barely have time to pick up." Kathryn smiled and breathed out through her nose, relieved that he understood. However, a bit of self-consciousness remained. "Now, my wife is a different story. If she has seen this mess, you will receive an earful from her.
"Sounds like my mother. Surely, your wife understands because of your job."
"Oh, she does; she just doesn't care for my excuses," Gordon let out a quiet laugh at his joke, and Kathryn joined in. The lighthearted moment didn't last, returning to the matter at hand.
"Did my boyfri - uh - uh - my-my friend call you guys?" she wondered, stumbling over her choice of words. "Jonathan Crane?"
"I'm not at liberty to say," Gordon answered, checking underneath the bed. "Whoever the caller is, it's good that he cares about public safety, especially yours." Gordon straightened back on his feet when he didn't see Ryder hiding under the bed, ignoring the pop on his sore low back. "Well, the good news is he's not here, but that doesn't mean he's not out there."
"So there is a chance that he might come back or-"
"If he's smart, he won't come back," Gordon approached Kathryn with a comfortable distance between them, putting his hands on his hips. "We'll let security know about the situation, so there will be more eyes around the premises. As a precaution, my partner and I will stick around a little longer." Kathryn nodded. Even though they hardly knew each other, Kathryn trusted Gordon to keep her safe.
"Listen," Gordon began in a cautious, reluctant tone, "I know this is not my business..." Kathryn tried not to cringe from the inevitable. She knew what he was going to ask her. "Whatever relationship you and your other friend have, I don't care. But I have to ask-"
"I'm okay," Kathryn assured him. "Jonathan didn't hurt me. He slipped in the bathroom and broke the mirror by accident. That's all. That's why he left, to patch up his hand. Jack Ryder approached him in the parking lot. I watched them from the balcony myself."
"Did you know what they talked about? Did you see anything significant about how they interacted?" Gordon pressed.
Kathryn's eyes were glued to the far wall of her bedroom as she shook her head.
"Are you sure? Is there anything you can tell us that can help us?"
Taking a deep breath, she forced the memory of Crane's violent act out of her mind and looked the cop straight in the eye, declaring her lie.
"I'm sorry, but... no. I don't know the case with Jack Ryder, but from what I can tell, he isn't right up here," she pointed at her head. "I hope you get him. The sooner he gets help, the better."
Gordon's face was neutral as if concluding in his mind whether or not Kathryn was telling the truth. Even if he had some suspicion, Gordon couldn't prove it. He accepted her answer with a nod, for now.
"Me too," Gordon sighed. "My only advice for you and your friends is to be very careful: watch your surroundings, have someone escort you to your car (especially at night), and if you need help or know anything, don't hesitate to call."
"Will do," Kathryn doubted Crane would heed the advice because he wasn't afraid of anything. "Thank you for checking on us, Detective."
Gordon's corner lip twitched, "No thanks necessary, Doctor Knightly. It's my job."
Kathryn couldn't help but let the corner of her lips twitch in satisfaction. Before he could leave the room, she called him out, "I never told you I was a doctor. Are you sure my boyfriend didn't call you guys?"
The detective cleared his throat awkwardly before professionally addressing the petite, "As I told you, ma'am. We cannot give you that information for the caller's safety."
Kathryn noted the emphasis of the word, accepting the hint with a nod, "Yes, sir." Her heart raced at the thought of putting Crane in danger.
The detectives finally bid farewell, not without Flass making a jab about coming back with a warrant and taking the pack of beer with him as evidence. Elise rolled her eyes and happily picked up the pack, then slammed the door in his face. As she set the pack on the counter, Elise noticed the box was torn and one beer can missing.
"Dammit! That son of the bitch stole my beer. Sooner or later, his days will be numbered - if not by the commissioner or Carmine Falcone, maybe God can strike the man with lightning."
"What if it's one of our neighbors?" Kathryn suggested.
"If it were, they would've been smart and taken the whole pack," Elise huffed, massaging her temples.
Kathryn pursed her lips at the logic. True.
"This is the last thing I expected to come home to."
"I'm sorry, Lise."
Elise opened her eyes at her guilt-ridden friend before she shook her head in disagreement, "No." She approached her friend to hug her against Kathryn's distaste for hugs. "No, I'm sorry. I'm being insensitive. I get now why you reacted outside the way you did. I'm glad you're okay."
"I get now why Jonathan punched him," Kathryn's statement earned a reaction. Elise pulled back to look at her in shock, silently asking her to repeat that or explain. "Jonathan punched him. I saw him."
"What? And you didn't mention this earlier?! Why did you keep this from the police?"
"I couldn't tell Detective Gordon. I didn't want to get Jonathan in trouble. Also, Jack refused to involve the police. If he can keep the incident quiet, why can't I?"
"But why would Crane punch him? Is it because of you? Did Jack make some rude remark or-"
"I don't know. Jack did call me Mrs. Crane, so-"
"So he knows," Elise stated the obvious. Kathryn nodded. "Hey, I doubt he'll go around blabbing about it. I mean, he is on the run for Summer's murder, and it's not like anybody believes him... You think Crane called the cops on him?"
"It has to be him. Why else would the police come to us specifically? Not once have they mentioned going door-to-door and asking neighbors if they had seen Jack. Don't you see? Even though Jonathan got mad about the whole phone bit, Jonathan still cares." One good thing to smile about tonight. Unfortunately, the moment didn't last when Elise burst her bubble with reality.
"What phone bit? You still haven't explained to me what you two argued about."
"I..." Kathryn huffed, resting her hands on the island table, "He got mad that I answered his phone." Elise blinked, silently questioning her friend once more, pressuring her for details. "I invaded his space," Kathryn explained further. "I shouldn't have answered the call, but I did. This is on me."
"Why did you answer his phone?"
"I don't know! The phone wouldn't stop ringing, and I was afraid that-"
"That he is cheating on you with another woman," Elise stated rather than asking.
"A man was calling him," Kathryn corrected.
"Oh..." Elise nodded in understanding. "So you think he is cheating on you with another guy?"
"Lise!"
"What?! These things happen! I mean, have you heard the story about The Nanny's ex-husband?" Kathryn rolled her eyes while Elise continued. "Look, I get why you answered his phone. And I can't say that what you did was wrong."
"Because you don't like Jonathan," Kathryn assumed.
"Yes," Elise bluntly agreed before she lifted a finger, "but to be honest, many women, including myself, would've done the same thing you did." Kathryn agreed. She could easily picture Elise initiating the idea of playing PI for the night. "Except, I wouldn't have answered the phone. I would've gone through his messages."
"But it wasn't like that at all. I trust Jonathan... except for that..." she shook her head, trying to dismiss the subject. "No, never mind."
"No, what? Except for what?"
Kathryn groaned, raking her fingers through her scalp. "I don't know! Jonathan is a private person and has been very secretive lately - more than usual - ever since he started that new therapy program. And as for that Henri Ducard guy that keeps calling him... I just have a bad feeling about him," she rubbed her arms, feeling the goosebumps coating her limbs. "Maybe he's the reason why Jack is stalking Jonathan."
"Who - you know what? Alright! Okay!" Elise shook her head and waved her arms, feeling her head spin as she struggled to process all this. "Okay. This is - This is a lot to take in."
"I know."
"But you can't believe that Jack is stalking Cray-Crane. I mean, guys aren't..." Elise trailed off to see her friend's raising brow - a silent challenge to finish and justify her statement.
"They aren't what, Lise?" Kathryn asked. "You sayin' that guys can't be victims of stalking and abuse, too?"
"Well," the blonde bobbed her head side to side, glancing up in deep thought. "Child abuse, sure. And if a guy dated some crazy ex-girlfriend, maybe, but... hey, I'm no expert," Elise admitted, raising her hands defensively, "not like you, but these things rarely happen to guys."
"But it can happen," the psychologist insisted.
Elise pursed her lips before she reluctantly nodded, "Okay. You gotta point there. I give you that." The brunette couldn't help but smug in satisfaction. Another good thing that happened tonight temporarily distracted her from the current situation, only for Elise to, once again, ruin it. "But what I do know without a doubt, if you think something is not right about Crane's situation, then it probably isn't, and that's why we need to stay away from him. You need to stay away from him."
"Lise, I can't abandon him, not when I believe he's in danger!"
"Why not? Even if he did call the cops for us and did good by punching that creep, he left you to fend for yourself without a warning."
"I know, but I was-
"And let's not forget Jack is on the run for Summer's murder. He knows about your secret relationship with Crane, and he might be lurking outside right now, jerking off while peeping through someone's bathroom window! What's worse, his uncle is CEO of Gotham City News, who is also friends with Falcone!"
"Really?"
"That's what I heard. I can't exactly confirm that." Kathryn accepted it, allowing the blonde to continue the rant. "And if that's true and if Crane is involved with these people-"
"He's not!"
"How would you know?! Kathryn, please, use your brain and think! You should know that all of this," Elise angrily gestured to her surroundings, "is not normal! Crane already got you scared to bits! He is already dragging you in his shit."
"I dragged myself-"
"And," Elise overpowered her roommate's voice, who didn't take kindly to the interruption.
"I wasn't finished-"
"You didn't let me finish! Not once did I bring my work home because I knew you wouldn't be comfortable with it, and it wouldn't be right. I put you (my best friend) first. But how is it fair for your boyfriend to bring his problems into my home - our home? And not only are you allowing it but I'm forced to play a part in it!"
"No one is forcing you to do that."
"The cops were here, Kathryn! One of them stole my beer and tried to invade my personal space! Eventually, I'm going to stink with y'all! And that's not okay! You're the one with a psychology degree. You should know better than anyone!"
"Okay!" Kathryn raised her hands. "Stop! Just stop. I'm sorry! I get it! You think I'm an idiot for loving a complicated man! You're not the only one who thinks that." She sniffled and breathed out heavily. "I hear what you're saying, but... I love him - I do, and that's not something I can turn off easily. Surely, you've been in my position before. You know what it's like."
Elise closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Kat-"
Kathryn gasped and quickly covered her eyes to possibly hide the waterworks. "I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely.
Elise sighed, opening her teary eyes and softening the tension in her jaw and brows. She walked around the table to rub her friend's back, who didn't protest this time. Kathryn sat down, resting her arms and head on the table. Her arms were like curtains to hide the tears, muffling her sobs. Elise felt responsible for making her friend cry, and while she didn't mean to sound harsh, it needed to be said. She knew herself to be a hypocrite for playing a part in Falcone's game, but unlike Crane, she was trying to open her friend's eyes to the danger while keeping her cards close to her chest.
"I'm sorry, Kat. I know you can't."
"You want me to leave."
"No. No, I didn't say that" Elise clarified. "I wouldn't never - You're my friend, okay? I love you, and believe it or not; I don't want anything bad happen to you. You hear me?" Kathryn sobbed louder in response, rambling incoherent muffles against the table. Elise blew out some air in frustration. What could she say to make her friend stop? "Listen, you have nothing to be sorry about. You didn't ask for this, and you don't deserve this. I... I'm going to take you to work from now on. Okay?" Kathryn shook her head, about to protest.
"Yes, I am," Elise insisted. "I don't work til twelve, so it'll work out perfectly. We get off almost at the same time, so when you take the ferry ride back, I'll be there in my car, waiting to pick you up. We'll go home together, guaranteeing our safety and not having to suffer the waiting game. I'll have your back, and you'll have mine. Just make sure your taser works, okay? If we need new batteries, we'll get some at the store tomorrow."
"It charges," Kathryn grumbled, finally lifting her head and wiping her eyes with her shirt. "It charges. It doesn't need batteries."
Elise forced a grin, "There ya go! Now we are prepared, and maybe, we can sign up for some self-defense classes at the police department-"
"Yeah..." Kathryn shook her head, cringing at the thought of passing out and coming home sweaty. "Don't push it."
"Okay. Fine. Your loss. Stick with the pepper spray and taser."
Kathryn nodded, gazing down at their entwined hands on her lap.
"Hey," Elise called for her attention, "you know I love you, right?"
"Yeah," her friend whispered, nearly hesitating. "I do..." Neither was cleaning up the mess outside the condo. Kathryn needed a friend willing to waste her tank of gas for her. When Elise once again initiated a hug, Kathryn didn't protest.
~000~000~000~
After spending another hour at the Diamond District, Flass ditched his partner and drove to a sports bar underneath the highway bridge in the Narrows. When Falcone wasn't at one of his safe homes, his legit office, or in a hotel room with a mistress, this was his go-to place to drink in peace if possible. In some cases, security had to step in to deal with unwanted pests or tie up loose ends, and nobody on his payroll would dare object.
"I need you at the docks Thursday," Falcone commanded as he pushed a glass of whiskey toward Arnold.
"Problems?" Arnold asked, not taking the drink.
"I don't want any trouble with the last shipment."
"Sure," Arnold nodded. "Word on the street is you got a beef with somebody in the DA's office."
"Is that right?" Falcone asked in an annoyed tone.
"And that there's a fat prize waiting for anybody who's willing to do anything about it."
"So, what's your point, Mr. Flass?" Falcone demanded.
"Have you seen the girl?" Arnold asked. "It's a cute little Assistant DA. Don't you think that's a little too much heat to bring down? Maybe even for this town."
"Never underestimate Gotham City. People get mugged coming home from work every day of the week. Sometimes..." Falcone chuckled in amusement, "Sometimes things just go bad... especially to rats who stick their whiskers into somebody's business..." The mob boss slanted his eyes to the left, indicating the rat sitting nearby in silence. The blue wear-down hoodie patron turned his head in a narrow gaze, silently greeting the boss by lifting a beer can in his direction before reaching it to his lips. His glasses had been removed, no longer looked like the school geek that nobody had taken seriously. This rat was planning to rectify the situation.
"Actually, Mr. Falcone, I prefer to be a crow." Falcone and his companion snorted in response.
"You got some balls calling my partner tonight, Doctor Crow," Flass said with a cheeky grin, revealing gunk between his teeth from the lack of flossing. "How's the hand? Word is you gained seven years of bad luck?"
"It's nothing compared to what I did to Mr. Ryder's face," Jonathan snapped. Falcone furrowed his brows and glanced at Flass, who shifted his focus on the whisky shot on the table. "Oh, he didn't tell you?" Jonathan challenged, despite eavesdropping on their entire conversation. "That creep showed up at my girlfriend's place tonight and threatened me. The question is how you will rectify the situation, Mr. Falcone?"
Falcone rolled his eyes in annoyance, "I still don't see how this is my problem. I mean, your people did go to Summer's place and drug the poor woman to death, making her cameraman the scapegoat."
"Actually," Flass interjected, "she died by... never mind." He retracted when Falcone looked his way, a silent warning to keep out of the conversation.
"He's a scared kid, Doc," Falcone addressed the scrawny doctor. "This is an eat-and-kill world. What the hell is he supposed to do? Let you put him in jail for the rest of his life? I wouldn't go down without a fight either."
"You and Mr. Ryder's uncle have money and resources. Send him away on a private island somewhere. As I recall, you're the one who allowed the experiment to happen behind the poor woman's back. She was in too deep and knew too much. Therefore she became a liability just like Mr. Ryder."
Falcone hummed in consideration, "Maybe you're right, Crane. Maybe I should cut the cancer out before it spreads." He tilted his head back to douse the rest of his drink. He ahhed and clicked his tongue in satisfaction before he addressed his companion. "Flass, after Miss Dawes, who should I cut out next? The creeper or the crow's chick?"
Jonathan stood abruptly, cueing the guards and Flass to follow suit. Meanwhile, the patrons enjoying a drink or company froze like a deer in headlights, preparing to either hide under the table or flee. Falcone nearly choked and spilled his liquor at the eruption of heavy stomps and moving chairs. A shadow hovered him like a dark cloud. Jonathan was inches from the table, towering over his large frame. The doctor didn't flinch nor gazed at the guns aiming at him as he raised his hands to show everyone he wasn't armed. Nobody dropped their guard, however. Their hands remained on their concealed weapons, waiting for their boss's order.
"Pick your battles carefully, Mr. Falcone," Jonathan advised calmly. "I am not the enemy here."
"Nah, you're just a thorn in my side," Falcone grumbled as he nonchalantly dabbed the wet drops on his suit with a napkin before he wiped his mouth. He gazed up at Jonathan in the corner of his eye, spotting one of his men pulling back the safety of his gun. "I should just air your laundry right now and be done with it."
Surprisingly, the nerd doctor didn't seem fazed by the threat around him. This kid knew how to stand his ground for someone who appeared to be weak. Falcone hadn't seen that much spirit in somebody in seven years; that kid was muscularly built compared to Crane's small size.
"These men are no different than the school bullies I had to endure, Mr. Falcone. My adolescence was a redundant routine. It's like clockwork. It never skips a beat. Every morning I walk to school, a couple of jocks wait for me by the bushes to beat me up. When they had their fun, I got back up, dusted myself off the best I could, and then showed up late for class. Every day during recess, the same thing. The kids roughed me up; I got back up. I dusted myself off, and again, I missed ten minutes of class, forcing me to stay behind to catch up and miss the bus. Every day when I walk home from school, guess what happened next," Jonathan motioned the boys to speak up. "Go on. Tell me. No need to raise your hand. We're not in class. What do you think happened next?"
"The same motherfuckers kicked your ass again?" Flass guessed in amusement.
Jonathan hummed mockingly before he shook his head, "No... I returned home to see my grandmother there... waiting for me... You think she would greet me with a smile and a plate of cookies in hand; you're wrong. Instead, she had that fucking cane with her for one purpose only. Not to keep her standing, but to swing and - BAM!" He banged the table on cue. Some of the guards and Flass jumped, caught off guard by Crane's tale. "She would beat me to the ground for showing up late. Have you ever been beaten by a cane? It's nothing like a baseball bat. The tip was sharp like a crow's beak, gnawing your flesh to the bone. It hurt. Then again, that was the idea." Falcone tilted his head in interest.
Crane laughed it off, "But I digress... Once she was satisfied with her handiwork, she left me alone... I forced myself to get up... walk upstairs to patch up my wounds, eat what she gave me (which wasn't very much), finish my chores, go to bed... and then the rooster crows, restarting the damn cycle again and again, and again."
"Damn, and I thought my granny was thoughtless when she gave me socks for Christmas," Flass finished his shot.
"So what's your point, Doctor Crane?" Falcone challenged. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Give you a pass because you had it rough?"
"Not at all, sir," Crane assured him; his false smile remained. "Your boys can beat me up if you allow it. You may see my battered body as a weakness - pathetic even, but how can I be weak when I can take a punch and then manage to get myself up and walk home every single time?"
Falcone pursed his lips, taking his sweet time before he addressed the doctor. "Fair enough. Forgive me, Doctor Crane." He shook Jonathan's hand in a tight grip. "I misjudged you completely. You're no rat at all, not even a crow..." He yanked the man's arm, pulling him down to his level as he hissed angrily, "You're a fucking cockroach."
"Perhaps," Crane smirked in amusement, "only this cockroach is working for a powerful man who will put you through hell if I don't walk out of here unharmed." Falcone scowled. "Putting me in a coma is not good for business, don't you think, Mr. Falcone?"
"Shut up," Falcone released Jonathan's hand before he motioned his boys to stand down, much to the bystanders' relief. The doctor repeatedly extended his fingers to regain circulation. Thankfully, Falcone didn't grab his injured hand.
"Good choice," Jonathan straightened his posture, no longer having to endure Falcone's fishy breath and tangy musk.
"You may be right about Ryder, but I am right about your girl, and you know it. It's only a matter of time-"
"You let me take care of Doctor Knightly under the condition that you get rid of Jack Ryder," Crane proposed. "Whatever it takes. I need him gone."
"Deal," Falcone declared through gritted teeth. "Now, get the fuck out of here before I blow your brains out myself and see whether or not you can actually walk it off." Jonathan didn't need to be told twice. Instead of stumbling home to address his wounds, he walked out of the bar with his head held high and a victorious smug across his face.
As he sped out of the scene, Crane ran over a puddle that splashed a filthy, homeless man in a winter coat and extinguished the fire in a burn barrel.
"Hey, watch it!" the man raised an angry fist and yelled as loud as he could, which wasn't very much. "This is a nice coat!" he inspected the clothing to wipe off the mess. Despite the lack of washing and the years of wear and tear...
"It's still a nice coat," he repeated in awe.
Meanwhile, back inside the bar, Falcone pulled out his cell phone to make a phone call.
"You calling the creep, sir," Flass assumed.
"Better," Falcone grinned, mischief sparked in his coal eyes. "I'm calling the creep to kill two birds with one stone." The two snickered briefly before somebody picked up on the other line. "Hey, Knox, it's me," the mob boss greeted his friend. "Do me a favor, will ya? You got your nephew's new number on you?... Well, I got an offer for him that will solve everyone's problems, including yours..." Falcone nodded, "Uh-huh. Yes, sir. 100% guarantee."
Little did everyone know, in the shadows, another hooded man gathered the intel through an earpiece. He ripped it out of his ear in rage when the conversation among the group was over. He quickly but discreetly left the scene to prepare for Thursday. He didn't expect a third party to join the party, but whoever the doctor was and the role he played for Falcone, he wasn't the primary objective right now, perhaps as a later side project. Busting Falcone was the key to bringing down the mob, and he couldn't be prosecuted without Rachel Dawes. Her safety was the figure's number one concern. As soon as the man keeps tabs on her, his chances of saving her are better. There was so much to do in so little time.
~000~000~000~
Before Jonathan could get ready for bed, he had to make one more phone call while changing his clothes and brushing his teeth.
"Listen to me carefully, detective. Kathryn's safety is essential, which is why she can't know about Ryder."
"Doctor Crane, with all due respect, your girlfriend is not stupid."
The man blew out some air, clenching one hand at the edge of the sink, "I never said she was." Beauty and brains were supposed to be a lethal combination. "Unless you said something to her-"
"She saw you, Crane," Gordon declared. "She saw you outside in the parking lot with Mr. Ryder. She knows you called me in to check on her."
Jonathan tilted his head back and closed his eyes in dismay. Of course, Kathryn watched him go to the parking lot and punch Ryder. She had seen his true colors shine under a street light. He honestly didn't know what she thought about him. There was the worst-case scenario of her not speaking to him again. Going to prison should be the worst, yet it wasn't in Crane's mind.
"What did she say?"
"What did you think she said?" Gordon challenged Crane. "What happened in the parking lot, son?"
Jonathan couldn't help but snort in amusement through his nose, a smirk curled upright. He applauded Gordon for being clever and not giving away all his secrets. He even tried to be the sentimental father figure that Crane never had. The detective was brilliant, but Jonathan Crane was a master manipulator who still had everyone under his boot, including his guinea pig, despite the tiff between them.
"That Jack passed the security gate to harass me," Jonathan answered casually, "and brag about what Falcone could do to Kathryn if I testified in court. Other than that, nothing new really."
"What about your hand?"
Of course, some things were unavoidable. "It was an accident. I'm sure Kathryn told you that already."
"Yes, more than once. However, her roommate is not too happy that you broke her mirror. Expect a bill from her."
Jonathan scoffed in amusement. He would've been surprised if Miss Berg didn't charge him.
Gordon sighed in exhaustion, "Look, Doctor Knightly knows something is wrong, and if you don't tell her the truth, it will not end well for your relationship. I can keep quiet for as long as I can and maybe issue a patrol car near your place-"
"That won't be necessary."
"But if Jack attempts to pursue Doctor Knightly again-"
"He won't," Crane made sure of that.
"My job is to protect the people, Doctor Crane. Her safety comes first. I don't care if it costs your ego. If you love her-"
"Excuse me? Who said anything about me loving her?" Jonathan challenged, not appreciating the man's laugh in response. "Look, just because we're in a relationship doesn't mean I lo-"
"Son, mind if I give you some piece of advice? I've been married for years, so I have the knowledge and experience."
The doctor curled his lips and cringed in disgust at the term of endearment. This was becoming too close for comfort. Gordon was supposed to be an ally, not his pretend father.
"I'm sure you do, detective. But I don't want-"
"Just so you know, you don't have to be romantically involved to love somebody. Okay? Love is... It's beyond emotion. It's complex. It is no different than how you react between fight and flight. It can be scary sometimes but rewarding in the end."
"You see, that's where you're wrong. Love isn't fear. You're not supposed to be afraid of somebody you love."
"No," Gordon agreed, "but fearing for somebody you love is completely different."
Jonathan didn't know how or why, but the negative voices in his head ceased. His perception and his scientific beliefs shifted just a little bit.
He was about to speak only to realize his mouth had gone dry. He licked his lips to ask the wise, married man one question.
"What's the difference?" his voice nearly cracked, fighting back the burn in his eyes.
"You're an intelligent man, Doctor Crane. You know the difference. Having courage is one thing, but not without a proper motivation like love. It can make do things- selfless things for those you care about. You've done the right thing speaking up about Jack. But you can still do more to ensure Doctor Knightly's safety by sacrificing your pride and telling that poor girl the truth."
Meanwhile, Crane was battling internally with himself, staring at his reflection. He could feel the adrenaline kick in, yet he wasn't in any real danger, not right now. This wasn't normal. It hadn't been for a long time. Crane knew that but didn't do anything about it. Deep down, he didn't want to. Kathryn's venom spread throughout his bloodstream, affecting every organ inside him. Was this a disease or a disorder? Can it be cured? He was almost tempted to bash his face against the glass so he wouldn't have to find out.
"Just something for you to sleep on."
"Thanks a lot," Crane grumbled sarcastically. He didn't know if Gordon had picked up on it or was too naive in his parental role to notice; the doctor didn't care.
"No problem. Get some sleep, okay, son? And don't hesitate to call for help if you-" Crane didn't dare let him finish that statement as he ended the phone call. As he repeatedly stated in his mind, Gordon wasn't his father. The older man should know that Jonathan Crane was baggage. No woman or man would willfully offer to share his burdens with him. It never happened. Yet here he was, trapped in this unfortunate predicament with a woman smaller than him. He was better off leaving his guinea pig with the wolves.
Brushing his teeth was no longer a priority. He leaned against the sink and opened his contact list, scrolling down to Kathryn's name. His thumb hovered over the call button, debating whether or not he should take the older man's advice and call her. So many things could go wrong. Jonathan might be better off talking to her in person. Maybe he should wait a few days and trust Falcone to honor his promise, but how long was too long? When did Jonathan Crane trust Falcone with anything?
He relaxed his arm holding the phone, exhaling his frustration and exhaustion. Why did this have to be important? Why couldn't he go over the hypothesis and consequences tomorrow?
He glanced at the tub only to double-take when he noticed something off. Hovering over it, he could see his reflection. The water in the tub had been filled, but he didn't do that. He was a shower person and would never soak in his dirt, not since childhood. Someone was here.
He whirled at the loud creak behind him. A masked figure playing hide-in-seek behind the door slammed it shut.
Before Jonathan could put up a fight, the intruder kicked him into the tub, ducking his head underwater.
Almost immediately, it brought Jonathan back some traumatic memories. His hair was yanked upright, allowing him to gasp for air. At first, it sounded like the ninja was speaking a different language, or maybe Crane's mind couldn't grasp what he or she was saying, for the brain was trying to regain some oxygen.
"This is a message from The Great Ra's Al Ghul," the ninja began before ducking the doctor's head under again, holding him in there longer than the last time, approximately seven seconds. "The leader is patient, though he does not tolerate disrespect!" The next dunk lasted fifteen seconds. "Let this be a warning to you, doctor. This city belongs to the League. We are in charge!"
The ninja didn't break into the apartment to kill Crane. He was only sent here to pass along a barbaric message. Despite knowing the ill intentions, it didn't make the nightmares go away. Crane believed himself to be that scrawny, malnourished kid again. His grandmother drowned him instead, purifying her grandson's soul while reciting a verse for baptism. He couldn't recall the reference because it came out in a quiet muffle.
The walls were closing in. Jonathan was losing precious time. His mind and body were begging for air. He had to escape.
'You believe that the past means nothing,' Instead of hearing Scarecrow, she spoke in his place, pushing Jonathan to fight back, 'but sometimes, Jonathan, it does. It could either make us stronger or wear us down...'
His soaking wet, bandaged hand fiddled in his pockets, ignoring the stinging sensation as he fished out for his keys.
"I care about you, Jonathan. You are wonderful, more than you realize, and you deserve everything... Please... I don't wanna lose you."
He clenched the metal between his fingers and thrust his arm out, hoping he aimed where it could hurt.
As he did that, the weight on his lap lessened. He repeated the motion until he was freed from the tub. As he came up for air, gasping for breath, Jonathan didn't stop stabbing his attacker with the keys. Blood splattered on the walls, his face, and his clothes. The key pierced the man's neck. The wound oozed dark red onto the tile floor. All this time, Jonathan was oblivious, lost in his world. He thought he was stabbing his grandmother to death and screaming out his true feelings for her. The devil's spawn was exacting vengeance on Bloody Mary.
"You fucking bitch! You sanctimonious hypocrite! I'm your fucking grandson! You're supposed to love me!" He coughed in between. "You never loved anyone! Not me, not my father - my mother- not even God! I was just a fucking child! Do yourself a favor and just die already you wrinkly old bag! I hate you! Hate you!"
The stabbing continued until the key sliced his skin. He yelped in shock, slipping the key through his fingers. When he finally regained his breath, Jonathan took a minute or two to realize what he had done. He slid back against the wall, observing the still body and the draining blood on the floor. He had indirectly killed people before, allowing the house to fall on one wicked witch. This murder was by his hand.
Of course, anybody would say this was self-defense, except Jonathan had to challenge that statement. He knew the ninja was only here on behalf of their boss to scare him. Looking at the deceased warm body before him, he felt nothing for this trained killer. No guilt or shame, not even empathy. No different than the time Jonathan had punched a man his size. The time he quietly watched his victims shiver and scream in reaction to his hallucinogenic drug. He fed off their fear and submission, becoming more powerful than before, something he had once thought impossible.
Kathryn was right about one thing. The past could only either make him stronger or weaker. He made his choice, and now he was on top of the world.
And he loved it.
Jonathan Crane knew at that moment, maybe before the dunk, that he had fallen hard, and he had on wet clothes to prove it. Gordon was right. Love was the only weapon to conquer fear. It can bring you butterflies, but it can be rewarding if you embrace it.
As for his powerful boss, Jonathan knew he couldn't keep this from him. If Ra's Al Ghul was going to find out about it, he might as well hear it from the Master of Fear himself. It was time to return the favor and send him a message. Jonathan wasn't afraid.
For that, Jonathan reached for his phone on the soaked tile floor, wiping it dry with his pants. He scrolled down the list with shaky fingers before placing the phone against his ear. It didn't matter how the leader greeted him. The sound of his voice was all Crane needed for him to say what he wanted to say in a surprisingly calm manner.
"Don't expect your commander to come back," Jonathan nearly missed the leader's question.
"What have you done, Crane?"
"What I have done, Ra's Al Ghul, was necessary. So why don't take those words and just shove them up your ass?!" He eventually screamed the last part out as he threw the phone across the room. He didn't bother to hear the man's reaction, for it wasn't necessary.
He should get started on ridding the body and bleaching out the evidence. For now, Jonathan was content to sit there and embrace his trophy for a while longer in peaceful silence.
Almost.
'Here's Johnny,' his dark half teased, now impressed.
