Batman and characters belong to DC comics.
She woke up feeling groggy, her eyes stung from being up so late last night. She hadn't bothered to change into sleep wear or wash her face, she was sure she had raccoon eyes.
Remembering she had fallen asleep with the television on she reached for the control to shut off the early morning cartoons. She had a headache.
She flipped to stare at the ceiling, it was quiet and she was thankful she had the day off.
'Good, I'm not in the mood to deal with ungrateful society'.
Just after finishing that thought her mind back-tracked the events of last night, or rather, early morning: coming home, taking a walk to the park, and finding an unconscious bruised man, all in a split second.
Her heart began to race, how could she forget something like that?
Slowly she rose from the couch and stared at the door to her bedroom. After standing still a few minutes she felt she was not alone. There was a presence, she felt it, it gave her goose bumps. If her heart sped any faster she was sure she was going to have a heart attack.
Then the knob turned, out of sheer panic she made her way to the small corner kitchen with a few strides, hiding behind the counter. Immediately after doing so the door opened slowly making a slight creaking noise.
'I have to remember to fix those hinges' a confused look fell on her face as she shook her head.
'Not the time to be thinking about that!' she noted herself.
Out came a man whose eyes shone with cold curiosity. He looked around the room: a small kitchen complete with a small round dining table, the living room consisted of picture frames on the walls, some drawers here and there, an old television, a coffee table and a messy couch.
A messy couch that seemed someone just rose from. He walked toward it.
From the counter, a nervous wreck of a girl opened one of the lower cabinets taking out a pan. Getting up she hesitantly made her way toward the stranger, who was now inspecting the couch. As she got closer his height grew.
'He didn't seem so tall lying down' she whined. She decided to give herself a countdown to cue herself.
He felt the warmth upon placing his hand on the indented couch, then pulled back sharply as if he had touched something foul.
'three…'
He turned his attention to the cluttered coffee table, some paper with scribbles, cups, water bottles, magazines, a name tag. He raises an eyebrow and picks up the tag.
'two…'
The simple two toned tag twirls in his grasp, he run his thumb along the name.
'three…!'
She pulls her arms back throwing the pan behind and ready to slam forward…until the sun reflected from the pan, to a mirror, to her face.
Being in the darker half of the room her eyes were not given the chance to adjust to any natural light, it stung like hot sauce.
"AGGHH!"
He didn't know what alarmed him first: the sudden ray of light arranged in his direction or the yell that sounded like a rusty tuba.
He turned to face the sun blind- pan raising women, who he noticed, had shut her eyes to the solar assault.
A hand shot to her throat as she was violently shoved to the near wall. She held her breath as she opened her eyes to meet his calm yet mocking features.
"Well well, what have we here?" he speaks in a whispering malice. The pressure on her neck has the girl in a petrified state. She feels the pan is still in her hand, she rotates it.
The stranger takes no notice.
"tell me child, am I correct to assume you are…" he squints at the name tag in his free hand. "A Miss Cass-AHH!!"
A quick smack and he releases his grip long enough for her to move behind him. The pan still in firm hand.
He caresses his head with both hands; a scowl is on his face.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!" he bellows
"YOU WERE CHOKING ME!" she reasons not lowering her guard
"YOU HIT ME WITH A PAN!"
"BECAUSE YOU WERE CHOKING ME!"
"I was NOT choking you! Merely attempting to lower your defenses" he checks his hands as if expecting to see blood.
At this she crosses her arms, her tone skeptical "Really? By grabbing someone by the neck and applying pressure, you expect them to just lower their defenses?"
Making a hissing noise he acts as if he had not heard her.
"goodness child, you could have given me a concussion…"
She opens her mouth to bash back, but decides against it. Somehow he managed to make her feel like the guilty one, even though it was he who actually made a threat on her life before she could propel hers, and the fact that she was going to attack him in the beginning in the first place made her feel even worse.
"DON'T call me CHILD", she pouted like a child ironically, "the name's Cassie, but I'd rather you call me Cass".
"May I acquire as to why?"
"I just hate that name ok" she made her way to the freezer, leaving the pan on the counter.
"well CHILD…" he takes satisfaction in seeing Cassie tense with agitation. "I happen to like Cassie, it has a sickening sweet sound to it". He chuckles lightly, obviously tormenting her.
Walking toward her "guest" she harshly shoves a bag of ice into his chest and makes her way toward the couch turning on the television. he puts the bag to his head.
"and who the hell are you exactly?" Questioned Cassie, there's a bitterness in her voice
This takes the lanky man by surprise. "Don't you recognize me? Don't you know who I am?"
Cassie rolls her head to the side to look at him, "can't say I do"
Gesturing to his outfit with one hand he tries again, "doesn't this spark you of anyone?"
Cassie gives a black stare, "uhh, a farmer?" He suddenly shouts throwing down the ice bag in a rage.
"THE SCARECROW!" Cassie's eyes are wide from his sudden burst. "I AM JONATHAN CRANE, THE SCARECROW, THE MASTER OF FEAR!".
There is a moment of silence, an then throwing her head back Cassie gives a howl of laughter. Crane was not amused, then a sickly grin lines his face. He composes himself.
"very well, laugh then, I suppose I'll have no choice but to unleash my toxins, you will fear Scarecrow, you will fear me." He reaches to his side to grab an extra can he had packed away, but it wasn't there.
"what!?" he frantically checks his pockets, that can was the last of his fear gas he had before going out to create more.
He turns to the girl trying to regain her posture. "where is it?" he demands, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her viciously. Slapping away his hands she get up to face him, or look up at him.
She crosses her arms once again, "I have absolutely no idea to what you are talking about"
"my fear toxin! It was in a spray can with a pumpkin on it!"
"I didn't find any can, all I found was you, on the ground, unconscious. Your welcome by the way, for not leaving you there. Y'know maybe you banged your head a little too hard"
Just when Jonathan was answer back, the phone rings. "hold that thought" says Cassie, one finger in the air for pause. She picks up the phone. It was the scarecrow's turn to pout like a child.
"hello? Oh…" she sounds unimpressed, "hey boss…what?...no!...i'm not-…it's my day off, can't you- …but-.. grrrr fine! I'm coming, give me an hour". She slams the phone down and marches to her room. The sink in the bathroom could be heard.
Jonathan stands in the living room perplexed. Minutes later Cassie comes back, face clear of raccoon eyes now freshly applied eye make-up: simple eyeliner and mascara as well as a new set of clothes. She walks over to Jonathan arm outstretched. He stares.
Impatiently she demands, "my tag!"
Looking down he finds the tag still in his hand, 'I had this thing all this time?'. he hands it to her.
She sighs deeply not bothering to look at Jonathan, who was just watching her run around.
"I have to go to work" she simply states. "you're welcome to stay here, just don't …take anything alright?"
Jonathan looks around as if trying to find anything worth stealing.
Grabbing her purse and keys she leaves on a final note, "I'll be back around 8pm". And with that she was out the door. Their "argument" never really concluded.
He turns to the television she had left on, again. The news was currently airing.
" nor the police or Batman have yet found the whereabouts of Arkham escapee Jonathan Crane, citizens are cautioned to stray clear of confrontation and to immediately alert the police to anyone matching the inmate's description…"
It went on to describe his physical appearance and past crimes. Looking around Jonathan figured if the police or Batman haven't found him thus far then maybe it wouldn't hurt to convert to a new hideout, maybe send a person to get his required chemicals, one who won't attract any attention, a normal everyday citizen…
Jonathan Crane had eloped a solution, he was given an opportunity and he would not waste it.
A/N: hey, sorry i haven't posted. school has me by the neck along with other side projects, but hopefully i'll continue to update when i can. i always write little bits in my spare time :) thanks for reading!