I'm back! :D :D :D
And I feel there is so much to say, but I will keep it short.
A huge thank you to those who PM'd me and helped me through the past month and a haf. You guys are awesome.
Another thanks to both ArtemisOsimetrA, and xTune. You both have helped me out a lot, and between the both of you, have brought me back to this story. :) Thank you.
I hesitated updating right now because of what happened in Colorado, but I did feel like now is an okay time. My heart goes out to all those affected by this terrible tragedy, and I feel it is important to note that what we do on this site is FICTION. There is a difference between it and real life. Batman isn't real, and it is important that people really know the difference between the real world, and the world of fiction.
Sorry for my rant... I don't own anything related to Batman, (Except Melanie Ryder) and hope that you all enjoy!
The next morning, I am shocked awake by the door slamming open and banging into the wall. I sit up nervously, having a feeling I know what today is going to entail.
The Joker stands in the doorway, his lips turned down in a frightening snarl, and it clashes wildly with his painted on smile. His eyes are dark and calculating and I fight my wobbling legs to stand up straight.
His next words confirm my suspicions, and strengthen my resolve at the same time.
"Let the fun begin." He doesn't even chuckle.
He takes a deliberate step in my direction, and I try to focus. I spent half the night trying to think of ways to control my fear level, and try to remember what I came up with.
I slow my breathing, and also try to take deeper breaths. I am hoping that this will keep my heart rate from jumping around too much, and that I can delay whatever Scarecrow's gas did to me. I had been humming the most relaxing song I could think of to myself half the night, and started humming quietly again, under my breath.
The Joker begins walking forward aggressively, probably hoping to freak me out, and tilts his head to the side, pulling out a knife.
My calm breaths freeze for half a second, and so I close my eyes, humming even louder.
I can do this! I can do this! I can do this!
I hear his footsteps pause right in front of me, and can feel his stare. His quiet laugh breaks the silence, and I scrunch my eyes even tighter. He's had all night to think of different ways to make me scared and push me over the edge, and I can only hope that I am prepared enough to stall him.
"Divenire? Really?" He almost seems disappointed.
"You know Einaudi?" I am shocked that not only does the Joker know a classical piece of music, but he can recognize and name it, just by hearing my hum.
"Ha! Of course I do, Lane! Who wouldn't?" He sighs dramatically, and covers his face with a gloved hand. I am shocked and surprised to learn this strange new information about the Joker, and look down at the floor slowly. "What? Just because I'm Gotham's most wanted," He pulls the word out with a sneer and continues, "Doesn't mean that I can know a good piece of music when I hear it?"
"Um… no." I say quietly.
"Good then." He makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, and turns around. I watch him take a few steps and suddenly remember why he was here in the first place.
Three things happen at once. I suck in a shocked gasp when I realize he has successfully gotten me distracted, and that I have let my guard down. At the same time, I see him spin around in almost slow-motion; the back of his purple suit swirling around almost gracefully. And finally, I slam my eyes closed, and try to imagine myself in a happy place.
My mind does in fact go blank, but I struggle with the whole picture thing. My entire body is tense with the stress of trying to figure out what exactly the Joker is trying to do, and so it's rather difficult trying to picture myself somewhere else.
"Ooh… I know what you're uh, doing, Lane. Or at least trying-uh, to do." I hear his footsteps get closer. "How's-about I help'ya out? Hmm?" He takes my silence as a yes, and continues. "Picture this: You're twelve years old, sitting at home. Mommy is drunk on the couch, and you're waiting for daddy to come home." No. This story is all too easy to picture, and I fight against its toxic images weaving their way through my imagination. "It's getting late, Lane. Daddy has never been this late before. You look out the window and see a thunderstorm. Lightning has always frightened you, hasn't it?" He laughs quietly, and I try to imagine something else. Anything else. "You wait for a long, long, time, and finally daddy comes through the door. But wait. Someone else is with him. A woman. You don't know who she is, but you can't look away as they embrace. He takes his hand, and starts to-"
"Stop it!" I shout. "Stop it, you insane freak!" My eyes flash open and the room turns hazy. All I care about is making the stupid clown quiet. A brush of something close to heat brushes down my spine, and I realize what's happening.
"No." I say quietly. I inhale deeply, and try to relax my body as I exhale. My body aches with the conflicting reactions. It doesn't know whether to be alert, relax, or try to find a mix of both.
The Joker starts talking again, but I ignore him easily. I don't have any extra room in my head to even hear his words. I am focused entirely on keeping calm, and strangely enough, the soft hum that his voice makes is actually helpful.
Suddenly, I'm sitting on the ground, with no idea how I got there. I look up slowly, and see him standing over me, with his fist extended, and realize he must have hit me. Strange. I don't even feel any pain. I meet his eyes, confused, and watch him shake his head slowly. He leaves the room, and the only noise I really register is the small click of a lock. Like I would even try to leave.
I stand up numbly, and realize that I did it! I actually held my own! Sure, I almost lost my control, but what matters is that I was successful! My heart fills with joy at my success.
I hear a scraping noise, and turn around to see Harleen's hands pushing aside the wood covering the hole in between our rooms. A moment later her confused face appears, that lifts into a relieved smile to see me sitting there.
"Hello, Harleen." I say.
"Melanie!" It's almost weird to hear my full name again after so long. "Are you alright?"
I walk over to her, and sit in front of the hole. "Yes." I answer. "But a lot has happened."
"So I've heard." Her eyes meet mine and I see a trace of fear in her eyes, but she continues quickly. "Through the wall, I mean."
"Oh... Yeah, well I guess it hasn't really been quiet..." I spend the next few minutes filling her in on everything, and telling her of my fears of the Joker's plans. She listens quietly, but doesn't seem very surprised. "So, what do you think about all of this?" I ask when I'm finished.
"I think that you should be on your toes around him." She says thoughtfully. "And I didn't mean to eavesdrop before, but seeing as there is only a piece of plywood separating our rooms, I couldn't help but hear the Joker's story he was telling you." I flinch at the memory. "Melanie… if you ever want to talk about anything, well… I am a psychiatrist."
"Oh." I look down, "Okay. Thanks."
"He could be back anytime, so we can talk later, alright?" I nod as she backs out of the whole and I cover it back up.
I sit back down in the middle of the floor, and wait. I don't know when the Joker is coming back, but I may as well be as relaxed as possible when he does. I try not to think about Harleen or the Joker. I decide to think about Bruce Wayne. When I stayed with him, I felt accepted and happy. I wasn't thrilled about him using me as bait, but compared to recent events; it was a cake walk living with him.
I wonder what it would be like to have a life like Bruce's. Wealth and fame from childhood; fundraisers on a weekly basis, surrounded by people who would always aspire to be as successful as me.
There was just one thing I wasn't sure about. He was gone a lot. I know it would be expected, but it just seemed like he disappeared more than usual.
Wait.
I suddenly remember something else. It's dark, and fuzzy, but it's definitely a memory. I'm on the street talking to Batman. He recognizes me as Melanie Ryder. But I was toying with him about something… Something he was afraid of…
Bruce…. Batman.
Bruce Wayne is Batman!
I remember that conversation now! Oh my gosh, what am I going to do? How in the world am I supposed to stay relaxed now? My heart hammers in my chest, and my breathing speeds up. I feel that brush again, and panic. I can't lose control! Not now!
I close my eyes, and hold my breath. I start humming Divenire again, but it just reminds me of the Joker, so I stop.
After a few minutes, my breathing slows, and my heart returns to a normal pace. A moment passes and I hear a sound that sinks my heart. Footsteps outside my door. I hear the Joker's quiet laugh of anticipation, and try to just look brave as he door slowly opens.
I don't see anyone at first, and wonder if the Joker is expecting me to walk out there. Yeah, fat chance that'll ever happen.
A black-gloved hand curls around the doorframe, and I freeze. I know it isn't the Joker because theatrical or not, he wears purple gloves, not black. The man emerges slowly and dramatically, and all it takes is seeing the mask to put the pieces together.
The Joker had brought the Scarecrow. Or I should say, Jonathan Crane.
Great. I have no idea what I'm going to do now….
"Hello again, girrrrl." His voice is almost creepier when he's being courteous.
"Jonathan." I try to keep my voice from shaking as I nod my head.
I watch him pause for a moment. He's probably surprised to find out I know his name. He composes himself quickly though, and continues to almost ooze into the room. His presence is like a virus; sucking the happiness and hope out of the room almost visibly. I fight the urge to flee, but can't help the goosebumps that sweep along my neck and arms.
"I hear that you have had some… interrresting side effects to my gasss." His voice is a hiss. "So naturally… I have come to find out a little morrrre…. About them."
He is a few feet from me, and my heart takes off. I don't want to be experimented with, and I don't want this man anywhere near me. It's his fault that I'm like this, and I don't think he can do anything but make it worse. I feel the brush of heat down my spine, and I try to push the feeling away. It's the exact reason the Scarecrow was here in the first place, and I couldn't give in.
He tilts his head to the side, and extends his arm toward my face, and my stomach sinks when I realize he has replaced the nozzle that Batman ripped off.
Hey! I remembered something else! Maybe there's hope for my situation after-all.
I hear the Joker giggle in anticipation and I fight my irritation. It's hard enough trying to pay attention to Crane, without the added stress of Mr. Giggles behind him.
I try to stay still as his hand softly traces my jawline. I don't want to give him any more clues, and I can't read his face because of the mask. Wait… I remember more about the night I 'rescued' the Joker.
"How's your face?" The words escape my lips without permission.
"What?"
"The last time I saw you, you were… sick.. or something. Did the medicine help?"
His hand constricts around my throat, and I hear the Joker gasping for air in between his laughter. I have no idea what he's so happy about, but I can't focus on him right now.
"You have no right to speak to me without permisssion." He flexes his hand, and I struggle to breathe.
"Sorry." I manage to squeak out.
"Ah, what's the harm in showin' her, Jonny?" The Joker's voice comes closer. "Maybe I should have been a doctor'r somethin' cuz your face is downright gorgeous now." More laughter.
Scarecrow's head jerks around to look at the Joker, and at the same time, the Joker sweeps his arm up and pulls off the mask anyway.
Jonathan Crane's face is not the same as my fuzzy memory. He still looks a little older than me, with brown hair and the piercing blue eyes, but that is where the similarities end. His face is a smooth beige, unaffected by a rash or breakout of any kind. His skin-tone is even and not chalky in the slightest. Overall he is a very attractive man, and I can only begin to imagine his admirers when he was a successful doctor.
Right now however, he is glaring daggers at the Joker's smiling face, and an irritated sigh escapes his lips.
"How am I supposed to get what we need if you won't let me work?" He snarls. Well, that's a relief. I was beginning to think he only spoke with the hiss to his voice. Don't get me wrong, he still is intimidating and forceful, but without the creepy and frightening edge he has with the mask.
"Well, I wanted-uh, to let Lane see my work. So… deal with it." It's hard to describe just how much of the Joker's voice says, 'I don't care what you think.'
Jonathan's anger is apparently getting hard to control, because his hand contracts further around my throat, and I begin to see stars. I can feel my self-control slipping inch by little inch, and I fight as hard as I can to contain it while at the same time, trying to keep my breathing even. Everything is still for a moment, and Jonathan let's his head drop as he rubs his eyes with his other hand. He shakes his head the slightest, making a low noise in his throat, and pushes me away from him.
I stumble backwards, and try to maintain my footing. I don't see behind me though, and fall backwards over something small on the ground. My back and head smack against the floor, and my control goes out the window. Forget having to scare me into it, just stress me out for a while and I snap just by falling over.
The heat flows through me, and I feel powerful. My heart beats like a drum, and I'm surprised they can't hear it. I can hear them though.
Jonathan leaves the room whispering to himself, and the Joker follows behind him literally skipping out of the room. I don't know how anyone could ever dream of understanding him in the slightest. Except knowing he's a psycho.
I get up quickly, and move over to the door before it closes all the way. I poke my head out, and see the two men walking out of the hallway.
"Ya know, Jonny…" The Joker says in a happy tune. "I find it fascinating that you talk to your secret 'friend' that way…. You think you could make Lane do it too?"
Jonathan just makes a disgusted sound and ignores him, and I smile knowing that I am making progress without them realizing it.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but there's nothing like a little improv to keep it interesting right?
I move into the large room silently, and crouch behind some boxes and observe the two men.
The Joker is standing at a table, twisting a knife around, while Jonathan stands still; quietly watching him.
"Ya know, Jonny… How long do ya think it'll take'ya to… figure out Lane?" He puts the knife down, and pulls out a potato peeler.
"Well, longer now that she's prepared." Jonathan still seems aggravated, and I see him shake his head slightly again. Is that what the Joker meant about him talking to his 'secret friend'?
The Joker sighs dramatically, and stands up in a huff. "Make it quick won'tcha? I'll give ya till morning." He walks toward the door, and doesn't pause as Jonathan calls out to him.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
"I'm a busy man, Jonny. And I need to check up on a few things…" He laughs quietly in anticipation.
"Ah. I get it. You're going to go chase Batman around all night again, right?"
The Joker just laughs, and leaves the building.
Jonathan turns around, and rubs his face with his hands.
"Yes, I know." He says, and I realize that he really is talking to himself. "But think of the consequences… No… Yes."
His voice gets quieter, and I strain to hear the rest. I begin getting the familiar funny feeling in my nose, and panic. Sneezing right here wouldn't be the greatest idea.
No, no no no no…..
"Bless you." Jonathan's voice surprises me, because I haven't even sneezed yet.
He turns around, and our eyes meet. Just as I am about to panic, my brain jumps into action. I spin around and leap up onto the pile of boxes, climbing to the top quickly. I jump off the other end, and grab the end of the catwalk.
A side part of my consciousness realizes that it is really handy having it here…
I pull myself up and turn quickly, looking for Jonathan.
He isn't there.
I search all along the floor beneath me, and don't see him. The smallest shift in pressure warns me of the intruder to my perch. I spin back around and see him standing about five feet from me, mask on, and fists clenched.
"Look, Jonathan.." I say in a warning tone
"Jonathannn isn't here…." He hisses, and begins to come closer. I walk backwards, keeping my eyes on him, and feel the strength begin to build up within me. "It seems we made a… slight miscalculation in the ingredientsss." He says, apparently to himself. My back hits the edge of the railing, and I don't know where to go.
The pressure of the railing triggers a reaction in my muscles. I've reached the point of fight or flight, and because flight isn't an option, my body acts on its only option. I run toward Scarecrow, and lean to the left. As soon as he lunges, I spin and go around his right side. My feet slam against the metal beneath me, and I hear him begin to follow.
I get to the end of the catwalk, and use the railing to swivel around. Scarecrow is reaching out to grab me, and I react without thinking. I jump off the edge while still grasping the rail of the ladder. I lose sight of Scarecrow as I descend, and immediately feel the burn on my hand. I let go of the railing, and do the only thing I can think of. Bend my knees.
The force of the ground hits me hard, and the air is pushed out of me. It's a miracle that I even remain standing. My eyes struggle to focus and the edge in my mind fades for a moment, making me forget what's happening.
I hear a noise behind me and spin around quickly. Scarecrow is standing at the bottom of the ladder, and triggers the edge and my memory to return in full force.
I back up as he begins creeping in my direction, and my back hits the wall. He crosses the distance between us quickly, and tilts his head as he examines me. (I assume he's examining me, but once again, the mask prevents a guarantee.)
"Yes, the results are very interrresting." He muses to himself again. "Not enough fearrr however, don't you agree?"
Truth be told, I was in fact very afraid right now. But hiding my fear was my only chance at keeping some of my dignity at this point. My eyes search for an escape, and just as I have the spark of an idea, Scarecrow's hand whips up and distracts me.
"Enough games." He growls. The puff of white smoke burns into my lungs and my eyes burn with the sting. This is a different gas then the one before and I can't stop the chills that crawl up my body. My breathing accelerates, and a small squeak of a moan comes out of my mouth. I feel like the world can see my every movement, and the fear spiking into my bloodstream is stronger and more potent than I have ever felt in my life.
I can't breathe. My lungs try to work, but just spasm with terror. An icy chill swirls past me and I fall on the floor beneath him. My eyes twitch and I try to concentrate on the room around me. All I can see is the mask. His laugh echoes around the room, but strangely, it brings me closer to the surface of sanity. I've heard a more terrifying laugh before. And the Joker isn't around to make it. Hearing the Scarecrow's almost modestly sinister chuckle does nothing compared to the wild cackle that belongs to the Joker.
My entire body is quivering. I don't dare move, because of the absolute terror that is surrounding my every thought. There isn't a coherent reason for it, or a specific cause. All I can comprehend is the feeling.
After what feels like hours, He walks away and sits at a table. He pulls a briefcase out and writing on a piece of paper from inside.
I can't look at him anymore though. What if he sees me watching? Shivers convulse down my body at the thought, and so I give up and try to concentrate on breathing.
Time means nothing to me. I lay there on the ground and face the terrors of whatever thought crosses my mind. Everything seems to have a darker possibility and I realize I have no escape to this madhouse.
I see sunlight grow dimly on the floor and panic. What if it burns me?
Scarecrow seems to notice the hitch in my breathing, and gets up.
"Time to move, girrrl." He hisses.
"N-n-n" My attempt at refusing gets caught in my throat.
He grabs my arm harshly and whispers harshly. "You wouldn't want them to get you, would you?"
I squeak with the terror of the unknown crawling somewhere on the floor and am on my feet in an instant. He drags me back to my room, and pushes me inside. I hear the door close behind me, and fall to my knees.
Hopelessness and loneliness overwhelm me, and I do the only thing I can.
Cry.
Alright... Hope you all enjoyed! Don't you just lve the new reviewing section right under here? Sure makes it easier, right? :D
And one last thing, I'm leaving tomorrow morning for 10 days on my family's annual Camping Trip. So, no internet, cell phone, technology in general... So Uless you review today, I can't respond like I usually do, so don't think I'm ignoring you! Your reviews absolutely make my day! :D