Chapter 3
Bree drove to her hotel, probably the tallest one in Gotham. Bruce had booked it for her, and she had no earthly idea why. She thought back to their conversation at Wayne Tower. Why had he just gone out and invited her like that? There had to be something up, and she didn't know what.
She had a few hours to spare to get ready for the party. She had the penthouse of the hotel, so she had a fine, clear view of the city below. She let her thoughts take over her mind. Memories of Jonathan circulated through her mind. The ones before she left Gotham, and before he apparently became insane. She had been so young, so innocent, and blinded by love. She was a fresh college graduate and Crane was still taking his course of psychology. She had met him when she took her first semester in the same area. He had been her tutor and her friend, and very soon after her first serious boyfriend. That's when she saw little things that began to change him.
He started to get agitated, paranoid. His work devoured him whole, and he would stay in late at night consumed in his studies. She was worried, and tried to convince him to see someone, and thought he didn't love her anymore. It nearly broke her heart.
"Why are you doing all of this?" Bree questions, her light, airy, innocent voice filled the air of Jonathan's office.
"Because, I have to, and I-I…" he couldn't think of anything to say. He looked up and saw her looking at a few papers. He snatched them out of her hands, shoving them in a file folder.
"Don't look at them!" he shouts. Bree jumps slightly. That was the first time he had raised his voice at her. Not even when she did something wrong when he tutored her, he never yelled at her.
He looks up, seeing her startled and scared face. He sighs, his eyes softening and he stands straight, walking over and pulling her into an embrace. She didn't respond at first, then slowly hugged back.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispers again softly.
"To protect you, to make sure none of this happens to you." He mumbles. She frowns, thankful he was taller than her so he couldn't see her face. What does he mean? She was so utterly confused.
"Jonathan, maybe you should take a break…" she mumbles. Jonathan pulls away slightly, his hair slightly disheveled, his glasses tilted slightly. It made him look like a mad man.
"Why should I? This is my life's work." He says, gesturing around the office. It was extremely cluttered, papers and files strewn everywhere. Nothing looked organized at all.
"I know, but… maybe we should just, you know, get away for a bit…" she says, fixing his hair slightly. She smiles softly.
"No… no, I can't." he says and pulls away almost too quickly, sitting back at his desk. Bree frowns, glancing around the room again.
"Jonathan, I think you're taking this a little bit too over the edge." She says, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. But he jerked away, like she had some sort of disease.
"No, I'm fine." He mutters, writing a few things down on a stray piece of paper hurriedly.
"Jonathan, please-"she insists, but he cut her off.
"Stop it, Breanne." He mutters. She looks at him, shocked.
"W-what?" she whispers, but she heard him. She heard him loud and clear. He looks up, realizing what he just said.
"No, Bree, I-I didn't mean it-" he said but stood up to quickly, knocking over his chair and making Bree jump back. He reached out for her hand but she recoiled.
"No, Jonathan. You've changed." She says, her voice growing a bit stronger. Something in Jonathan's eyes changed.
"I've changed?!" he shouts. "I'm the one who goes out every night running the risk of getting killed?! The one who goes drinking with their stupid friends?! And you say I am the one who's changed?!"
Bree felt tears begin to fill up in her eyes.
"Jonathan, this isn't you… Please…" then he did something she never thought he would ever do.
He slapped her across the face.
She stumbled back, knocking over a stack of papers. She felt her cheek, it was hot like fire. She looks at Jonathan from behind her hair, terrified. She stumbled up, grabbing her bag and jacket.
"W-Where are you going?!" he stammers. She shuts her eyes, tears streaming down her face.
"It doesn't matter, as long as I never see you again!" she shouts and runs out, slamming the door behind her.
Bree came back to reality. That was her very last memory of him. She had never seen him again after that. He hadn't even called or tried reaching her in any way. It seemed after that night he disappeared from her life completely.
She raises her hand to her face and wipes her cheek lightly, pulling it away and seeing a stray tear on finger. Her hand balled into a fist, and she lowered it to her side.
She wasn't weak and innocent anymore.
And she never will be ever again.