Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. I really am. Writer's block. I keep trying to think of a way to start winding this story to it's end. Have a thought of a way yet? Maybe, maybe not. I hope this chapter can satisfy you, my readers– if you are still around, and make-up for the waiting time. I do take happiness from Melissa being a tough one to figure out, though. Maybe this chapter will make it easier. Maybe not. Maybe it'll just make things more complicated. This chapter is focused on Melissa and Jonathan's little... oddball...situation. I can't explain it. But,

Enjoy! And Review! ..Because more reviews make more chapters come more fast..Again: Enjoy!

Chapter 23:

Sickness

"How're you feeling this morning, Melissa?" He asked, looking up at her as she walked into the kitchen.

Jonathan pursed his lips together into a thin line, his eyes moving across her face and body. Not in any sort of a sexual way, it was the opposite. His glacier eyes were finding every thing that looked off about her. Every little detail that looked wrong. Her face was terribly pale. There were dark circles under her eyes which were slightly puffy, an obvious sign of a lack of sleep. Her dark hair was limply hanging past her shoulders, looking somewhat oily as well. The whites of her eyes were pink like some crying had been done. They looked empty, lost, and glossy– threatening that tears could spill over at any moment.

He furrowed his brows together, but noted nothing out loud of her appearance. He asked no further questions. He simply waited for her voice to come. She licked her lips and looked about herself in a seemingly helpless way.

"What time is it?" Her voice was level, but quiet.

Jonathan looked down to his watch. "It is eight a.m., Melissa. Would you care for some breakfast?" His eyebrows raised in a question, though he didn't wait for a reply. He pushed back the chair from the table and stood up, walking to the stove. Melissa's breakfast had already been made. She sat in the chair quietly, looking to the left to see what was left on Jonathan's plate. Half-eaten piece of bread. Some eggs. Some juice. A newspaper was sitting to the side of the plate.

In Small Black, but bold, letters read the headline: 'Elderly Man Disappears from Port View Retirement Home'. It was a small column. A couple sentences past a paragraph. It was a column seen unimportant by most. Shoved to the lower left corner on the fifth page. Melissa's shoulders hunched up for a few brief seconds. Charlie's father. She didn't have to read it to know. Her thoughts were interrupted by Jonathan's hand setting a plate and glass in front of her. Orange juice, scrambled eggs, two pieces of toast, and a banana. She pushed a smile onto her lips, forcing her eyes up to Jonathan's. "Thank-you, Jonathan." She murmured.

He sat back in his chair and gave a single small nod, his eyes on hers closely, as he folded the newspaper up. Though their eyes were locked on each other's, Melissa could sense there was bitterness as he folded it up. Maybe annoyance. Did he know? Did he know that she went to talk Charlie? Maybe one of his men told him. She was suppose to be with the men in the basement, waiting for orders of what next to do. When he returned that evening, he knocked on her door, calling her name. She had answered it with an apology, saying she was feeling ill. Melissa had been using that excuse for a week now.

He did know. Melissa could see it in his eyes. He somehow knew. He followed through with his threat to Charlie's father. Did that mean he knew that Melissa knew about Alex? Maybe, maybe not. Feeling a sickening lump in her throat, she dropped her eyes to her plate. She didn't have to pretend to feel sick. She was. Maybe it wasn't from a virus, but after hearing what Charlie said... Being under Crane's stare, she felt as if she could break at any moment. Start to cry. Then he would be there to comfort her. To be a shoulder to cry on. That's what he would want, isn't it? Or maybe it would be the opposite. Maybe he'd only watch her cry with his icy glaring eyes. She'd hate it if he did that.

It suddenly hit Melissa. It felt like an arrow was shot into her chest. Her chest felt sudden tight and her heart heavy. This is was Charlie was talking about. Jonathan had her. Crane had her. She didn't want to displease him. She didn't want him to be upset with her. She wanted him to be there to comfort her. Love? Could Dr. Jonathan Crane, who shared a body with Scarecrow, ever love anyone? Or was this just a mindgame? Was she another one of his experiments?

Tears were stinging at her eyes at this realization as she stared down the eggs on her plate.

"You're not hungry?" Jonathan questioned, looking down to her food. Was he mocking her? "Do you want something else?" He lifted his hand under her chin, turning her face towards his own. "Melissa?" Earnestness. "Would you like a doctor?" There was a pause, "I mean a medical doctor– a hospital doctor? A clinic doctor? I'm sure I could find one in Gotham that's willing to make house calls if you are not up to the idea of going to a hospital."

She closed her eyes tightly as his thumb began to softly stroke her cheek. She didn't pull away from it. There was some part of her that enjoyed being close to him. Another part was screaming to jump away from him. Screaming that she was being taken advantage of him. But she didn't pull back. That first part of her felt relaxed with his touch.

"What do you need to do today, Jon?"

He dropped his hand from under her chin and sighed, looking around the kitchen. "I need to take care of a problem, though I don't think it'll take too long. A brief meeting to fix the problem. I think I should be back by noon, today. One at the latest... And yourself? What do you think you'll be doing today? You still look ill... I think you should rest up today. There's some medicine in my bedroom, if you'd like to help yourself. Maybe you should take a few sleep-aids." It was more advice than a suggestion. She nodded. "If you aren't any better by this evening, we'll take a trip to a hospital to see if there is anything that can be done to help you." She nodded again.

He finished with his eggs, took a last drink of the juice, and stood up again. Jonathan tucked the newspaper under his arm, and walked to the door. He pulled on his jacket, picked up his briefcase, and cast Melissa a last look.

"Get plenty of rest, Melissa. I'll try to be back by this afternoon. I expect to find you sleeping." His doctor's tone was in his voice. She answered with an 'okay'. His eyes meet hers again, "Well, until then, my sweetheart." Jonathan gave her a last nod before he was out the door.

Melissa stared at the door after he closed it behind him.

Sweetheart. That's what he called her. He had kidnaped her. Nearly tested some new drug on her. He almost choked her to death. Told her she killed her parents. He threatened her life when she had shown hesitation about find him victims. Her ex-doctor. The psychologist. The Scarecrow. The man that she had slept with, and after, he had shown no emotion– as had been usual. But now... he wasn't as constantly blank and bland with his expression.

Dr. Jonathan Crane called her 'my sweetheart'. It was not completely a mindless tone, either. He had taken her foster-brother to Arkham Asylum, according to Charlie. Made Alex out to me crazy. But he called Melissa his sweetheart.

Melissa's stomach lurched forward as another realization slapped her in the face. She liked hearing herself called it. The logical part of her was screaming at her again to leave. Get out. Run. This is not how normal people should be thinking of their kidnappers. Charlie's advice was the right advice. She needed to leave as soon as possible. The possibility was open now. Jonathan would be gone for another four or five hours.

Melissa gave a single nod to herself. She had to leave.