Disclaimer: I don't own Jonathan Crane (sadly) nor Batman. I don't claim to own them. I don't make any profit off of this. I'm just having fun.

07

Tonight

"Be careful, Dahlia! One step at a time!" I rolled my eyes for the hundredth time and tried to push Jonathan away from me, but he didn't budge. For a skinny kid, he had a lot of strength.

"Jonathan what-ever-your-middle-name-is Crane, back off! I can handle walking up a flight of freaking stairs on my own!" Jesus Christ.

Jonathan's eyes narrowed and his grip on my waist only tightened. I winced and he caught it. "That's what I thought. Just let me help you. We're three steps away."

"I hate you." I pouted. Childish or not, I didn't care. My pride was now wounded along with my ribs.

"You didn't last night."

I felt my face heat up and I tried to reign in the urge to kill him. Blood would be hard to mop up on the stairs, especially with sore ribs. Instead I pushed him, this time he took a step back. "You kissed me!"

"You reciprocated."

"You started it!"

"Yes, but I'm not the one claiming to hate you." I just groaned and stumbled to the last step. His hands were back on my hips in a heartbeat. "Why won't you just let me help you?"

"Because you're acting like I broke my back. I just have some cracked ribs, I'll be alright!" He pushed open the door to the hallway and I just walked through, trying to get ahead of me. Of course, it was pointless, he was at my side in less than a second, his hand grabbing mine. My mouth opened before I could stop it. "Is this the kind of boyfriend you're going to be?"

I stopped and held my mouth. Fuck, that wasn't supposed to come out. I stole a glance at Jonathan, he too had stopped and had raised a thin eyebrow at me. His eyes were amused, like he was silently laughing at me. Fuck. "Is that what you consider me? Your boyfriend?"

Ugh. Here we go with the psychoanalysis. "I don't know! I mean, we're together pretty much all the time, you've kissed me more than once, and you give me these heated looks. But you're so goddamn arrogant and at times like these, I want to punch you in the face! So there." I barely resisted the urge to stomp my foot like a toddler.

Both eyebrows were raised now and he was smirking. I was about to tell him exactly where he could stick his smirk when he leaned down, capturing my lips with his. He was gentle and careful again, very aware that my lip was still a little swollen from my assault. His hands found my waist and I carefully slid my arms around his neck, pulling him just a little closer. A nipped my lip and I gasped, a little from pain and a little from something else I wasn't quite ready to identify. He took it as an open invitation, his tongue stroking mine. I almost melted, and I don't melt. Where the hell had this guy learned to kiss?

He pulled away and gave me another one of those smiles. "Yes, I guess I am your 'boyfriend', then."

I sighed. What the hell had I just gotten myself into?

I had apparently gotten myself into never leaving my bed. And not for a good reason, either.

Between Jonathan and my mother, someone kept a near constant eye on me, the only privacy I got was when I was showering or something, and my mother still tried to come in to see if I needed help. She got a shampoo bottle to the stomach as an answer. After being basically cover in soda for almost twenty-four hours (those creepy spongebaths they make you take don't do anything except strip you of your dignity), I just wanted a quiet shower.

I'm probably being harsh. I know that. But I was almost ready to go back to the hospital. I at least had alone time there.

It had taken an hour to get them convinced that I could sit in the recliner. If I was going to be stuck to a piece of furniture for the next couple of days, I needed a TV near by. Maybe I'd grab Jonathan's weird fear book and read it. I was that bored.

Jonathan was sitting across from me on his makeshift couch bed, holding his still unopened gift in his hands. He had refused to open it until I got home. I raised an eyebrow. "Are you gonna open it?"

He shot me a look and carefully took off the paper, making sure not to rip it. Are you serious? He slid a finger under the seams and the tape tore, before I knew it. He was putting the perfect paper back on the table. Ridiculous. When he looked down at his gift and smiled, I knew I had gotten the right thing.

It was a handsome black leather journal. It was plain, but the leather was hand stitched. It was thick, even if he used it daily it would take years to fill it. It had Jonathan Crane written all over it. Not literally, of course. That would be tacky. I had gotten it at a small bookstore in the heart of Atlanta, it was pricy but the look on Jonathan's face was worth it. His eyes were wide and he held the journal like it was precious. He opened it and his mouth turned upward as he flipped through the crisp, blank pages. He finally looked up and I could see his eyes were brighter. "Thank you, D.G. I... really don't know what to say."

I just grinned and pulled my knees to my chest. "You're welcome. I knew when I saw it that it was yours. I'm sorry it's late, though. And I never made you dinner."

Jonathan chuckled. "I hardly think even you can cook in your state."

I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him. Yeah, I'm that mature. "Whatever, Crane. The only reason that I can't do anything is because you and my crazy mother have me stuck in this chair."

He shrugged, his attention still on the journal. "I could make you go back to bed."

"Only if you come with me." The look on his face killed me. I burst out laughing, gasping when I felt my ribs complaining against the strain. Who knew Jonathan Crane could blush?

I had finally convinced Jonathan to let me move to the couch with him. We were watching a movie that really wasn't holding my attention, I dozed on and off with my head on his chest and his arm around me.

It all started with my head on his shoulder. I was tired and he was the only available pillow. Really, he was. He stiffened when I laid my head there, his face going cold. I knew he didn't like body contact unless he instigated it, but he was just going to have to get used it. He was the one who started this whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing by kissing me, even if I was the one who put the labels to it. I yawned. My pain meds were kicking in and I was suddenly exhausted.

Jonathan noticed my yawn and his face softened a little. Silently, he pushed me off. I rolled my eyes but he then wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer so that my head was resting on his chest. He leaned his head against mine and I couldn't help but smile.

I knew it had to be hard to let someone this close to him. We'd only known each other a few weeks, even though to me it felt like I have known him for years. He had been abused for years, and for all I know, he may not have had a friend before. So I really did appreciate that fact that he was trying to let me in.

I don't know if it was a drug-addled brain or just how comfortable I was, but I felt like I needed to tell him. "Thank you."

My voice must have startled him, he twitched, but his eyes never left the screen. "For what?"

I snuggled in closer. "For letting me in."

He finally looked at me and his gaze was calculating, his brow furrowed and his mouth pressed into a firm line. He held me in that gaze for a minute before the ice in his eyes softened just a little. He turned back to the TV but pulled me even closer. "Don't make me regret it."

"Hmm." If I wasn't half asleep, that statement probably would have worried me. I yawned again, my eyes drooping. I was so content and warm, it seemed only logical to take a cat nap even if it was only six in the evening. I was almost out when a knock sounded at the door.

I bolted up and Jonathan turned his head. He gave spared me a glance and pushed me down as he stood up . "Stay."

I saluted. "Yes, sir!"

He made sure to look over his shoulder and roll his eyes, making his way to the door. I heard him slide the chain over and then opened the door. "What do you want, Collins?"

"So, it's true then. You really are shacked up with Cohen." That was definitely a male voice. At that I stood up and carefully made my way over to the door, hoping Jonathan wouldn't notice.

Of course he did, because he gave me a look that made me stop in my tracks, in full sight of the open door. "Dahlia isn't feeling well, thanks to you. Vacate the premises or I'm calling the police."

I looked around Jonathan and saw one of Michael Henry's friends, Todd Collins. He had a darker skin tone and dark eyes. He wore the usual popular get up, letter man jacket and jeans. He was one of the guys that helped him corner me. I narrowed my eyes.

The kid caught sight of me and his eye widened. "Cohen, I just wanted to talk to you." He moved forward but Jonathan put a hand on his chest, pushing him back out with that strength of his. You could tell that Collins wasn't expecting it, he almost stumbled. "What is your problem, Scarecrow?"

Jonathan braced himself in the narrow doorway and leaned out, I moved forward until I was almost even with him and I saw something... frightening flicker in his face. "I know that you helped him put her in the hospital, Collins." He didn't even look like himself anymore. I backed up a little. What the fuck?

Collins wasn't getting the memo, though. He stood, eye to eye with Jonathan. "It went too far! We were just going to intimidate her! Michael took it too far!"

"I don't care who started it!" There was an edge to his voice now. "You could have stopped it and you didn't. You let him beat her and if you come near her again, I will make your life a living nightmare." A smile crossed his face, and it wasn't a happy one. "Tell me, Mr. Collins, what do you fear?"

"Fuck you!" Todd Collins backed up and sent a glance my way. "I'm sorry, Cohen." He quickly disappeared down the hall.

Jonathan shut the door and redid the chain. I raised an eyebrow. "What did you just do?"

"Besides made sure that he never bothers you again?" Jonathan leaded me back to the couch. He helped me sit down and then sat down opposite of me. "I told you no one is ever going to hurt you again."

I bit my lip. "I know... it was kind of scary, though. Your face..."

He lifted my chin and pressed his mouth to mine. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead against mine, careful of the bandage. His beautiful eyes were locked with mine and I felt myself getting sucked in. "Dahlia, you have absolutely nothing to fear, do you understand?"

I nodded. "I can fight my own battles, you know."

"I know, but now you don't have to." I leaned my head back against the couch and sighed. Jonathan frowned. "Are you getting tired?"

I shook my head. Well, tried to. Didn't really work with the head on the couch thing. Moving on. "No. But I think I'm hungry. Where's Mom when I need her?"

" She left when you were dozing." Wow, had I really fallen asleep? My concept of time sucks. "She said something about clothes and shopping. She said she'd be home late."

Curious. "What was she wearing?"

Jonathan furrowed his brow. "You seriously expect me to remember what she was wearing? That's a little strange, D.G., even for you."

I rolled my eyes. "No, Jonathan. Just answer me this, was she wearing a skirt?"

He looked even more confused. "I...think so?"

"I knew it!" I grinned triumphantly. "She's going out on a date. That's why she snuck out when I was passed out."

"Hmm.. That would explain why she looked around the corner before she came into the room."

I chuckled weakly, surprised when it didn't hurt. Oh, right. Pain meds. "For as smart as you are, sometimes you're really dense."

He gave me a fake offended look. "It's not like I have much experience in this field, you know. The whole... domestic life."

I grinned. My face immediately sobered when I remembered his back. "How is your back?"

His good mood vanished. "Almost healed."

I kind of wished I hadn't said anything. But, hey, life can't be all puppies and rainbows. We were both walking examples of it, him with his scars and me with my fresh injuries. I didn't want to be pushy, but I had to ask. "Can I.. see it?"

The mask slid back into place and the happy boy I liked was gone, replaced by a stranger with icy eyes. It was well practiced, a defense mechanism built over many years of abuse and neglect. This boy I had come to care so much for had been through Hell all by himself, and definitely wasn't used to having someone care. "I'd rather you didn't."

I shrugged and smiled shyly. "You see mine."

That apparently did it, because his face softened. "How do you do that?"

Consider me confused. "Do what?"

"You always know exactly what I need to hear."

I smirked and pretended to flip my hair. "It's just one of my many charms."

He just gave me this soft look, full of emotion that I couldn't quite define but made my heart speed up none the less. He sighed and turned around, pulling off his black shirt.

I tried not to gasp. I had seen him shirtless before, but that dark night did him no justice, really.

He wasn't skinny, he was lean. There was defined muscle beneath the skin, probably from the years of manual labor that I'm sure his grandmother put him through. His skin would have been flawless if it wasn't for the scars.

The scars were much worse than I had originally anticipated. They weren't just across his shoulder blades, they were damn near down his entire back. Only the newer ones, scabbed over, were located on his shoulders. The scars were damn near everywhere; vertical, horizontal, diagonal. They wrapped around his back to touch his ribs, the tops of his shoulders, probably his hips, too. Most of them were thin and looked like they had went deep. However, there were a few that were made by a thicker weapon, they were pretty shallow. They were almost beautiful, in a morbid way.

Before I realized it, my hand was tracing over them and poor Jonathan jumped. Right, boundary issues. He turned back to me and that revealed a whole new landscape. His upper arms were covered in tiny bumps, grouped in three and in a straight line. They almost looked like- "Oh my fucking god. She stabbed you with a fork?"

Jonathan shrugged and quickly pulled his shirt back on. "This was a mistake." He went to stand but I pulled him back down.

"No, you don't. Those scars don't change a thing, they're part of you. But they are not you." I frowned. "I'm sorry for what she did to you, and the face that no one was there to help you. What that bitch did was wrong, hell, what everyone has done to you so far is wrong. But you didn't let it break you, and that is amazing."

I was rambling so I turned red and promptly shut my mouth. Jonathan looked amused, the elusive good mood apparently back in place. He smirked at me. "You really aren't like anyone else, are you?"

I scoffed. "Please. Who in their right mind would want to be like me?" My stomach grumbled and I turned red again, causing Jonathan to chuckle.

We ended up ordering in. I wanted Chinese and Jonathan hadn't had it before, so it was the perfect idea. It was going on nine and we were still on the couch, our shoulders touching as we ate our unhealthy dinner and watched a mindless comedy. I was completely miffed that I couldn't use chop sticks but Jonathan could, even though he'd never touched them before.

Where had he learned? A book. Big surprise, right?

We were just getting to the part where the two tween twins (try saying that five times fast) had met each other when the door open, my mother trying to sneak in. Can't let that happen. "Hey, mom!"

She jumped and I had time too look at her clothes. Skirt, nice blouse, hair done. Yep. It was a date. She turned around, sheepish. "Dahlia... I didn't expect you to be awake."

I smiled at her. "Obviously. Want some Chinese? You can tell us about your date."

"Dahlia!" I gave Jonathan a 'shut-up' look and he gave an exasperated sigh. "Hello, Ms. Flynn."

"Hello, Jon. How did you find out, Dahlia?"

I grinned. "He told me you were wearing a skirt."

She sighed and sat down. "Don't worry, it didn't go anywhere."

I frowned. "Mother, I really do not care if you date. Actually, I'm all for it. It's about time you get over Dad and his slut."

Jonathan rolled his eyes and tuned us out, starting eating again. With chopsticks. That really pisses me off.

Mom just smiled. "Are you sure? Because if you aren't comfortable-"

I handed her a box of food which she took with a smile. "Mom, do whatever makes you happy. As long as he's not an asshole. Because if he is, I reserve the right to run him off the property."

"Of course. Like I would have it any other way. So, how was your day?"

"Oh, you know. Death, destruction. Mass panic. Normal day at the office."

Her attention was turned to Jonathan who was still ignoring me. "Did you keep her confined to the couch?"

He nodded, eyes finally moving off the TV. "Of course."

I glared at her. "You're well versed in the art of torture, you know that? First the name and now this."

"Dahlia is a gorgeous name."

I groaned. "Sure, if you want to be named after a murder victim."

Jonathan raised his eyebrow. "You expect me to believe that she got Dahlia off the Black Dahlia?"

I looked at Mom, who was suspiciously eating very quickly. "Ask her. Quick, before she runs away."

Mom sighed and put the box on the table. "Yes, Dahlia is named after the Black Dahlia. There, are you happy?"

I smiled. "As happy as I can be being named after a famous murder." I gave Jonathan a look. "Now you know why I prefer D.G."

"Dahlia is still a great name, no matter where she got the name from."

Okay, my 'boyfriend' and my mom getting along? Not as great as I thought it would be.

"Dahlia, have you talked to your father about our trip?"

Oh, that reminded me. "Er, no."

"What trip?"

"We are planning on going to Gotham this year for Christmas and New Years. Dahlia wants to visit her father and look at apartments for next year and I need to visit my sister. You're more than welcome to come."

Jonathan looked like the idea made him uncomfortable. "I don't know..."

"It's not a big deal. We're taking both cars anyways." I put my box down on the coffee table and brought my knees to my chest. "You should probably come, you know. Get to know Gotham. You're gonna be moving up there in a couple months." Goodbye good mood.

He looked contemplative for a moment. "Alright. You'll show me around?"

I smiled softly, trying to push back the sadness I felt at the thought of him leaving so soon. "Of course!"

Because, at least, we had these next couple months together.

A/N: I'm sorry if this was boring for you guys. It was pretty much a filler chapter to show some interaction between D.G. and Jonathan and to help them move along a bit. There's going to be another time jump between this one and the next one, possibly. Things will get more interesting then, too. Promise.

I hope you guys liked it! I actually had fun writing it, and it's pretty long compared to the others.

9aza- Yeah, that wasn't originally the plan, but it worked out pretty well I think. D.G. can handle it, she's from Gotham. She can handle almost anything. =) I love the comics and they give Jonathan a great back story. But I feel some of it doesn't fit in with Nolanverse, so I give it my own spin to make it fit better. In my mind, at least. Thanks for the review!

Big fan- I'm sorry it gave you a headache! Coincidentally I had one writing that chapter haha. I'm glad you liked it and I hope you like this one, too!

iwishtheskywasgreen- Thank you so much! This story is my baby, so I love getting good feedback on it. Crane is a complex character and he's only gonna get more so from here on out. I hope you like this one, too!

PurgatoryNymphe- Don't worry, this story and the next three parts will be finished! I'm fully confident of that now. I have so much drive, I've been staying up to midnight to finish it. Not the smartest move since my little one gets up early, but worth it. As for the rest, you're gonna have to stay with the story and find out. All will be revealed in time. =)

SladeRavenFan- Thank you! I changed around Sherry and Bo's (the original characters from the comic) because I wanted them to be a bit different, not the run of the mill background characters. That, and I just really, really hate the name Bo. Haha Jonathan, to me, is a very complex character. I love him, he's always been my favorite Batman villain. I feel that Scarecrow is another personality, not necessarily one that he likes or that he can control, but a product of his abuse and neglect. But, we'll see how this story decides he is, it's basically writing itself at this point. Thanks for being so responsive, I love getting your feedback!

pourquoibella- I'm glad it's keeping you interest! My biggest worry is that I'll end up boring people with it haha. I hope you'll like this one, too!

CD- Is it even possible to love anything as much as Jonathan Crane? I love him, too. And thank you, D.G. is just so fun to write. She's like my muse, constantly poking me and making me write more. She's rather demanding.

Thank you everyone for the reviews, alerts, favorites, everything! I can't believe how popular this story is becoming! It's given me so much drive to work on the rest of it! I hope you liked this one just as much!