Grab and tea/coffee, sit back, relax. This is a fairly long chapter. But actually I think I've done longer. And if you feel intense emotions when reading, then hopeful I've packed the right amount of anguish into this because it is supposed to be. I'm useless at writing out action though...
/-^l^-\ Halloween /-^l^-\
Jonathan sighed gently under the mask, perched on the seat and leaned forwards. He could blend in with the shadows from here if she happened to awaken. He did not know how he was going to approach this.
I don't think I can. But if you do this, I go, and you know she'll make friends with you because she trusts you. Would you trust someone after what you're about to make do?
If she had fallen asleep facedown or sideward's then this would have been a little ... a lot easier. But then to instantly see how this would affect her would also be pleasing, it just made it a little more complicated.
Of all the things that he had planned, why did it never occur to him to find out how she slept?
When he had first come up, he'd seen the lamp was on and wondered if she were afraid of the dark. She had one arm out on her bedside table and had a book in her hand. Maybe she'd gone to put it down and had fallen asleep right there and then, without being able to turn the lamp off. She looked troubled as it were as she slept. She was wearing a little frown.
He slipped down and found the switch, flicking it off as quietly as he possibly could. He stood up at full height to take out his best formula from his belt. He slipped the canister out of his belt and turned to her as she laid in unsteady, uncertain sleep.
He approached the bedside, pulling the lid of the canister back with his thumb. He was so close now. He'd been waiting for this. My God... he had been waiting for this moment and now it was here. It didn't seem right, but yet at the same time he felt so achieved. Or was it that he'd broken into her house?
"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he whispered, to lowly for even himself to be sure he'd said it.
He got ready to pin her down, pushing his left foot onto his toes and pressing his knee lightly into the mattress. His hands trembled as he held the canister over her unsteadily sleeping figure.
Now was the worst time for it to come to his attention that she looked so graceful. She typically had her hair pinned up, and was always looking pretty stern but when she was laid there, as she was - he saw she actually had a very soft face. He nearly reached out to just tenderly stroke her cheek. Just do it, you idiot! You've come this far.
He sighed and nodded to himself.
A hand flew up and grabbed his exposed wrist. She latched on for dear life, despite the terror running through her mind at that moment. She couldn't gain any control of the panic surging through her body, but instinct had helped her.
The canister flew out of Scarecrow's hand and dropped onto the floor, rolling aside on the carpet; too far from him to reach. His real struggle laid with Alison. She was a really good fighter.
He pressed his wrist down to her pillow. She tried to slither out of the covers and reach for her phone but she was blocked by him. He'd leapt onto the bed, his knee sunk onto the bed between her legs and trapping her unless she kneed him.
She tried it. It didn't work; he nudged her leg back down and she tipped slightly to the side. Then began the pleading.
"GET OFF!" she snapped.
"Calm down!"
"LET GO!" she screamed. Scarecrow only had the blessing of her living in a detached house. The chances of anyone hearing were slim. Better still, it was Halloween! People might just assume it was a scare. Okay, it literally was a scare but it wasn't playful currently.
Her hand swept up and in one clean stroke she achieved something he could not, with all the planning in the world, have expected. It was cohesive. She was cohesive; she wasn't calm because she was pinned her down to her bed, but he hadn't actually got her.
She dropped the mask to the side as the thrashing and writhing came to an abrupt halt in light of the newly presented shock. The room was nearly lightless, but the little light that was gaping through was enough to illuminate them.
"J...Jonathan?" she whispered in interrogation.
He waited cautiously, slipping his hand down to grasp her wrist now that she loosened her grip. This seemed to provoke her. She yelled and hit out, trying to strike him with both hands. He kept the one he had pinned down and caught the other one.
"No-no-no!" she shrieked, kicking her legs wildly. He remained sturdy, the hits not doing anything to budge him.
"Alison, calm down!" he demanded.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU FREAK?"
"I am... not a freak!" he grunted, bringing the other leg up onto the bed. He rested his weight on this and pressed his left knee into her stomach, pushing her wrists down aggressively.
"Let me go!" she pleaded desperately, "don't kill me!" she cried. He was so shocked at that comment.
"... I wouldn't."
"Then let me go!"
"I am waiting for you to calm down, stop being so frantic, stop trying to run or hit me and to listen!"
"I don't think there is much to listen to. You insane demented imbecile!"
"Alison, please."
"Don't plead with me! You're probably trying to conjure up an excuse to justify yourself right as we speak but I don't want to hear it, Jonathan!" she spat venomously.
Jonathan knew this was true. He didn't know what the hell he wasn't going to say though. He'd tried to come up with something, but he couldn't really make up anything that sounded... valid.
His grip softened, but he was still exerting enough pressure to keep her down. He had her mercy and he was helpless, at a loss for what to say. He was put out even more when he noticed tears in Alison's eyes. He had scared her. And really upset her in so many ways. He didn't need any formula nor mask to do that. She was terrified of the concept of anyone breaking in and getting to her before she took her last breath.
He should have been satisfied he could achieve that much. But somehow it stunned him to further silence, and touching him enough to convince him to remove the leg he was pressing down into her stomach.
He eased even more on her wrists. He expected her to lash out. She didn't though. She crossed her wrists, and because he was holding on he fell down. She rolled aside as he landed, face down. She tried to slip away but he kept tight hold of her wrists still.
"Alison, I just gave you the freedom to move-"
"I feel like you're holding me hostage in my own home! You weirdo! You lunatic! You have no idea! You're insane! How could you? How could you make all those remarks towards me and then do this! WHERE DID YOU GAIN THE RIGHT FROM! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!"
She screamed and struggled about, trying to throw him off and did for a second. He slipped off the bed and staggered back, she tried to make a break. He pounced onto her, pinning her back on the bed.
"Please don't do this to me. Not that-"
"What?" he asked.
"You knew I hated being trapped. Do not do to this to me," she pleaded.
"Why do you think I'm going to hurt you?"
"Isn't it obvious why I think that?"
"But there is something?" he questioned, tilting her head up further. She winced and began to cry out, her tears spilling this time. He softly wiped them away. This was a bad idea. She thrashed about, throwing him off guard. He quickly stopped her.
"GET OF ME!" she screamed.
"I need your silence."
"You have it if you'll just get off!" she snapped, struggling against him.
"Alison, you cannot tell anyone!"
"I WON'T! GET OFF ME!" she pleaded, dropping her head down. She just wanted to hide right now. Jonathan slipped all restraint from her and stood up, retrieving his canister. Get her now! But his heart felt more sorry than he'd ever felt before in his life. No! I feel dreadful. I feel so... guilty. She's everything I'd want and I'm throwing it away, why did I listen! .
He felt so low. So cruel. He placed the canister back into his belt and wandered around to the other side and knelt down before her. Alison struck out her hand and slapped him on the cheek.
"I deserved that," he whispered.
"You think? Get out of my home."
"Alison... Maybe you need to hear me out."
"I will not hear you out, Jonathan! I want you out."
"Please?" he pleaded desperately.
"NO!" she screeched, tearing herself up, "what part of get out don't you understand?"
"First hear me out, then I will get out!" he begged, sitting up.
Alison shockingly grabbed his chin and tilted it up, pressing her fingers down hard. She took her index finger up to his eye and pressed her nail in, just below his eye.
He freaked out at first, wanting to explode at her but he quickly calmed himself down and took hold of her finger, flattening it out. Just in case, he shut his eyes. She tauntingly dragged her nail softly down his closed eyelid.
He smiled vaguely but she couldn't see because of the lack of light. He then took his hand and pressed it to the back of hers, as if assuring her it was okay. She drew her face closer, and he opened his eyes, staring directly into hers. He lowered his head onto her lap and laid against her for a while as she teased her nails over his neck. He was terrified she'd harm him though, despite that he had laid himself in the lap of what was now a massive danger.
"Jonathan," she whispered, gazing beyond in a distraught manner. He picked his head up and glanced up at her, brushing his finger tips over her ghostly cheeks.
"What's the matter?" he whispered. She was about to say something and then stopped herself. "Alison," he urged, bowing his head down. Not only was she distraught, he felt it now too for her. His breath was so unsteady it was about to crumble to bits. He really wanted to just yell and keep on pleading but he didn't want to frighten her.
"I wish people would stop hurting me," she whispered, then gasped, her head shooting to the side. It was like an invisible hand came and slapped her on the cheek.
"Alison?" he asked gently.
"Get out of my house," she hissed venomously after a while had passed, "I can't condone... this."
He nodded slowly. He had never, in his whole life, felt so restrained. Alison just made him feel on edge somehow. He pressed his hands down either side of her and stood up, but not without leaning in closer one last time. She turned her head away sharply from him. He knew he was about to take a bit of a risk, but he went for it anyway, gently kissing her head. She clutched his belt.
"Please go," she whispered. Holding on even though she wanted him to leave? He was confused.
"I'll leave the way I came, shall I?" he questioned lowly, glaring at her contemptuously.
He quickly felt fury towards her - all she had to do was listen, it benefited her more than it did him - he wasn't going to make any excuses. But, she had it her way for now.
What have I done?
Hopefully, that isn't too bad an attempt at some struggle but as I say, I'm not particularly good at writing out action. *le sigh* Thoughts?