Chapter Ten

Blood Baths, Revenge, and Meetings

She could not believe - or maybe she did - that she had finally let it out, never mind Edward had been the one who started it, but she would have to thank him another time for doing it. She had heard every word he was saying to Jonathan even before she came in, both men not even hearing her, and the decision was made. She would take it from there, and she was glad that she had.

Knowing more about Dr. Victor Warner made the bile in her rise even worse than his grandmother and runaway mother did. Even more than the church of crows behind the family estate, even more than the bruises, broken bones, and blood from his classmates his entire life...and even more than when he was thrown in here and his life ruined. Iris decided she hated the old man more than anything else, even more than Dr. Long.

And now Jonathan was debasing himself, crying and telling her he did not deserve her, that she should be sick of him because she was still a virgin and he was not; she was not in any sense old-fashioned, but she did save herself for him only. And that did not change, nor did anything about how she felt for him change. At this point, she wanted him to be that man who protected her from the abuse at the hands of Mina Rosenberg and the others and helped her get to here at Arkham and everything she had. She owed him this much because she LOVED him. That's all I'll thank you for, Eddie. She could picture him smugly smiling that his persistence and interference paid off.

Jonathan, however, was the opposite of happy.

"You...love me?"

His voice was lower than she expected, but how else could he be after just confessing the lingering filth in his body from someone else he hated most in the world? Someone who should have helped him as it had been her and him? "Yes," she breathed. "Do you love me, too?"

Iris hadn't expected him to respond right away, but she was irritated all the same. "I still say damn Edward for this," he hissed, turning his face away only to be forced back by her hand on his cheek.

"So did I. But I'm happy he knocked the sense in because we both have run away from it long enough, Jonathan." Her hand dropped back to its original place. "I've felt this for you ever since we first met, shouldn't that be enough? I'm tired of keeping this in. Tell me now, do you love me, too?" she repeated, taking both his hands in hers, on either side of them, searching his face and seeing nothing - but his eyes said another story altogether.

"Yes."

She laughed and leaned up to kiss him for the first time. That was all she ever needed to know, no further explanation.

This kiss was filled with so much fire, furious and broken out after being kept in for so long, raging and destroying everything in its path. Her hands grasped his shoulders and held on for dear life as his own wrapped around her waist to hold her equally, afraid of letting her go. His tongue broke through and her teeth, prying them open to find her tongue, too, wrapping around and mating; the taste was sheer delicious that she moaned desperately against his mouth. This was nothing in her dreams; this was happening...but they had to stop.

They could not go that far, not in her own office like Joan and Edward. She was too professional for that, and he knew proper respect for the asylum administrator as he had been not long ago. "We should...stop this," he panted, looking back up at her. His lips were swollen as she felt hers was, darker pink, and his cheeks matching as hers. They were both flushed with the intensity of their first kiss. It was not the mental one a young girl built up until her day came for her Prince Charming, but Jonathan Crane was too dignified to be called a literary hero. He was a real man and would be treated as such, and Iris DeLaine was no princess waiting for him to save her. She never needed saving, really. In her case, years of careful planning and obstacles were all it was. As it had been with him.

And that was why they were both perfect together, and they both knew it, looking into each other's eyes and reading each other's thoughts.

"Was that too much?" Iris asked as soon as her heart slowed down.

He chuckled. "Not as I expected. I would want more, but this is neither the place nor time."

"I agree. We both know what comes first."

~o~

10 years ago...

Jonathan was naked as he stood before the mirror in the bathroom he shared with Edward, loathing the sight without a doubt.

He had allowed this body to be taken four years ago; he had graduated last week at the same time as Edward, but they were both still living near the campus because Jonathan had been offered a teaching position...but one man stood in the way. He was the nightmare in their lives long enough that he "helped" them but needed to go now.

"Jon?"

"Go away!" he yelled, hating his current state and not wanting to deal with Edward right now. He looked down and reached up to tug his hair in frustration when his roommate refused.

"No, Jon, I won't leave you alone. It's him, and I know it. The four years went by, and now you got to put an end to this..."

He snapped inside, no longer caring about his nudity, and threw the door open, glaring at the other bespectacled man. Edward's eyes briefly ran over him before moving them back up to meet Jonathan's eyes, face flushed with both embarrassment and anger. This was pretty much how their friendship had been over the last few years: anger and binding by dark pasts, trapped in the place that was supposed to give them the freedom to move on - the doing of Victor Warner, none other - and Jonathan's body and mind hurt just as equal. The bruises had healed outside but not inside.

"I will do it, Ed," he said softly, coldly, "but you constantly nagging me about it is not making it easier."

"The reason we stayed here another week," Edward argued, "was because of the teaching position which you have not gotten yet because of HIM. He's the cause of all of this that he has to go like I did to my father and you did to your grandmother. I've had enough blood on my hands as it is, but I know it in you that you're not afraid."

Jonathan had his back turned to him, allowing a small smile to form now, and it remained when he turned back around to Edward. A dark energy overtook him that didn't seem to scare his friend. "You're right, Edward," he said, but it wasn't him. "Warner will get what he deserves, and I know just how to do it that will not point to either of us. As a matter of fact..." Still naked, he walked over to his side of the room and knelt on the other side of the bed, pulling out the silver case of everything to the one thing that was his life. "...I never cared to show you until now, my friend. It's to me what your riddles and the depths of the body are to you."

He grinned when Edward paled and looked down at what he showed, turning the case around to show him the jars and syringes of the clear yellow fear toxin. "Okay, so it's your little secret weapon," he stammered nervously, "but before you show me how it works, can you please put some clothes on, Jon?"

Later on, at eight PM, they were both at Victor Warner's house, with Edward beside him as he looked down with Jonathan in amazement at the writhing, screaming man in his own bed, naked and clawing at himself, drawing blood at unseen demons. The both of them had been unable to find out what scared the professor, but that was alright in Scarecrow's book. All that mattered was that his rapist was in his own home and violated in his own mind. This was revenge sweet enough, and his friend beside him was savoring it beside him.

"One last thing I did for all three of us," Edward said. "A call to the cops that the renowned Dr. Victor Warner has apparently been screaming mad in his own house, by an anonymous caller and no fingerprints left." He held up both of his gloved hands and wiggled his fingers happily, both men laughing before returning to the reality that the police were on their way.

~o~

Today

It was official, not that she didn't plan this at all: she would draw up the final arrangements next month and get Jonathan out of Arkham for good. Once that was done, she would work out the rest of the details with him and no one else was looking.

Right now she needed some relief and a hot, steamy bath before bed, as usual. She had switched into a black tank and shorts after leaving her costume, following the latest of the Empress' work; this one had been a common thug trying to mug a girl, so she did what the Batman was unable to do tonight. While she ran the water and closed the door to let the steam fill the room while she walked over to the stereo to play the song of choice. Another of Eden's Bridge's work, but this was morose and even though it was one of the perfect dance choices, it reminded her so much of when Jonathan was exiled from Gotham State.

I have lost my true and only love

To the waves and far away

To the listless sea, the cloudy skies

To a new and distant day

Though I know you must go

It is hard for me and so

In the eventide, I cry

And I hope that you will think of me

The one you left behind

Iris was a trained dancer - dancing had always been a hobby of hers, and she would always have Jonathan as her partner and no one else, from dances at the university and the charity balls and fundraisers. Whenever they would join hands and twirl like flower petals and leaves in the wind, it was always just the two of them and no one else, not even acknowledging the others around them.

Under different skies, you'll do His work

Under different stars, you'll stay

I pray that when your work is done

That He'll send you home someday

Every thought, every breath

Carries aching emptiness

For your loving arms, I sigh

And I pray that you will think of me

The one you left behind

She shrieked as she slipped on the smooth marble floor and landed right where she was. Pain shot through her worse than glass piercing her flesh and severing the arteries and veins beneath. She sat where she was for a moment, and for that moment, the music seemed to drown out as she beheld the source of her slip-up.

Water was flooding into her room.

She frowned as she stood up, grabbing the foot of the bed to balance herself and keep herself from falling again. The water - where the hell was it coming from? - was beginning to soak her carpet, too, and her anger flared up. How the hell could she have been so careless? She would have to call the maid to clean this up, or perhaps herself, and lose more hours of sleep.

And then she saw where it was coming from…the bathroom.

Iris frowned again as she began to approach the closed door. It couldn't have been that long that it was beginning to flood. What was going on?

When she opened the door, she saw that the black-and-sand marble floor was glossy with water pouring from the overflowing tub - before her vision was clouded, and the room was so steamy that she could barely see the mirrors, the pillars, or anything anymore…until it cleared away for her to see that things had changed. The water had changed color - to a very bold red to the point of making it look like…blood. There was blood in her bathroom. She was close to screaming when she followed the trail to finally spot the person sitting in the tub.

She closed her eyes for a second, wanting to blink herself awake in the hopes of all of this being a bad dream, but the person was still there, and more bloody water was flowing past her and marring her feet with its stains. The man - she guessed it was a man by the short length of the jet black hair - had his back facing her, and he was running his hands through his hair, weeping heavily and not at all like a man, and he had been clutching his head as if he was suffering, and Iris could see that he was. His back was patterned with numerous opening scars gushing torrents of blood down his back and into the water; each breath he took in caused the rivers of red to suck back in only to let it out when he exhaled. There was only one person she could think of with a collage of scars in that pattern…

Suddenly, before she could think further, the man whipped his head around, and this time she did scream. His face was a network of fingernail scratches that allowed more blood currents to spill into the bathwater, his porcelain flesh barely even clear anymore from the self-marring, and his glacier blue eyes bloodshot and wild like an animal she couldn't identify. The face itself was barely identifiable to anyone anymore from the mutilation. Even worse was when he opened his mouth and showed pink-stained teeth as he howled one word:

"NEVERMORE!"

Iris turned to run when she found herself facing the same face, this time seeing his nude, ravaged body full-front. She screamed again and fell backward onto the ground, landing straight onto the blood-flooded floor…

But when she looked back up and around, she was alone once more.

Had she imagined it all? Now she no longer felt the blood water around her, and there was no flooding - and there most certainly was no undead, visceral, walking corpse in her room. And now the song was finishing.

I would travel over water

I would race the river to the sea

I would give my home, my everything

Just to have you here with me

But my heart is alive

To the knowledge of His timing

And so 'tis here I'll stay

'Til He sends you home to me again

To the one you left behind

Iris hissed as she picked herself up. What the hell was wrong with her? First good and sexy dreams, and now vivid, nightmarish hallucinations about a walking zombie Jonathan. What was next? Were these dreams and visions telling her something? Or was she going crazy and likely to end up in her own asylum, as Jonathan had?

~o~

7 years ago...

Once every two weeks it would be Iris to go out and grasp the groceries for Alice and herself, but this time took longer than she expected because tonight was packed in every line it didn't matter which one she took. All she wanted to do now was to get home to her roommate and half-sister she recently found out about from a friend of hers at the hospital.

Gotham was dangerous at night, but she liked the danger in the streets given her experiences. She was armed nowadays after her attack before her fifteenth birthday less than a year ago - an attack which led to retribution which cost her beloved teacher's position and life...but most of all her. A part of her felt they should have been killed when she and Professor Crane had the chance...

She had the freezing of her spine which told her she was being followed in the streets; she damned herself for not calling a cab or buying a car sooner because she had the money for herself and Alice. Too late now. Turning her head halfway, Iris saw the man behind her. He appeared to be a normal average guy, but she would not be fooled. He was out for whatever he wanted from her. Either he would shoot her dead first and take her money afterward, or demand she give it up and then kill her - or was it something worse that she knew what it was but would NOT repeat? Either way, Iris reached into the pocket of her coat and felt for her handgun...

"Stay right there, bastard," she snarled, turning around and pointing it at him. Her finger was on the trigger, the safety off.

He froze there, eyes wide with surprise, before they contorted into an ugly sneer as he lunged for her with a knife in hand, gleaming sterling despite the night. Iris quickly turned and ran for her life; she had it in her to keep the groceries in one arm and try to make way for the nearest public street there was - only for a hand to grab her by her coat and pin her to the brick wall, the bags of groceries falling to the ground forgotten, but her hold on her pistol was intact.

"Now, now, pretty, you shouldn't have set me off. I wasn't even going to bother you until you pulled that gun out -"

The sound of a gunshot rang through both of their ears, and he never finished his sentence. He was bleeding and fell dead before her, the bullet shooting him in the stomach and whatever important organs. Iris stared down at him, shocked at what she did but also relieved. She had killed a man - she killed him! But she had also defended herself...

"You saved your own life and he could have killed you himself."

Iris gasped sharply as she looked up and saw the man in black in front of her. Both hands on her gun now, she raised it at him, prepared to shoot him, too, if he was trouble like the one dead at her feet. The mysterious man chuckled and stepped more clearly into what little light there was. He was very handsome and middle-aged, his beard and mustache of Asian roots graying. "Who are you?" she demanded. "And are you going to phone the authorities since I killed him?"

The man laughed and shook his head. "My dear, no, I will not presume to contact the corrupt authorities all because you protected yourself as well as stopped this one from committing what he would have repeated to another like you. You're not a menace."

Iris huffed and put the safety back on her weapon, putting it back into her coat and walking away to pick up her dropped bags. "Well, should I say thank you for the approval, whoever you are? The permission to kill an armed man who tried to do the same to a hard-working woman coming home from an innocent act of picking up food?" she asked sarcastically.

"My name is Henri Ducard, young lady. I'm impressed with your stamina, limited as it was. I was passing through Gotham these last few weeks when I noticed you and immediately saw how you possessed...unique qualities."

She snorted. Who did this Ducard fellow think she was? Was he trying to hire her for street work or something? "Listen, Mr. Ducard, if you're trying to sell me on the streets -" He interrupted her with a light laugh; they were now crossing the street together for a safer area.

"My dear, what kind of man do you think I am? What I am trying to tell you is that you've been marked by injustice, whether it was parental or societal - perhaps both. Either way, you're lost and you need some guidance. I can help you with that, Miss...?"

"DeLaine. Iris DeLaine." As the words sunk in, Iris was a little shocked at how well he seemed to know her even though they never met. "Are you telling me I need a path because life was cruel to me?"

"Well, whatever has wronged you, yes. See, I belong to and lead a very secret, international society you must not breathe a word of - but I can give you the choice to join or not. If not, then you will have an independent life that I can welcome through the doors at any time. Miss DeLaine, if you take my advice, then you can devote yourself to your ideals - and become something else entirely that you never thought you would."

Early on we saw Ra's there for her when her mother was killed, and it's mentioned they met not long after Professor Crane was fired, but never explored. I felt now was the time to see that.

The nightmare sequence Iris has was inspired by a vision Cate Blanchett's character has of Katie Holmes' corpse in her own house in "The Gift".

Since it's obvious by now I love Eden's Bridge so much, "The One You Left Behind" reminded me of Jonathan and Iris in Vytina's stories the moment I started listening to it a couple of years ago.

Revenge is always a dish served hot and sweet - in the case of Jonathan and Edward over their monstrous professor. :D You should see what Jon did to Dr. Bramowitz in the other story: he gassed the professor after having forced sex with him not long after graduation, then cut off two of his fingers like, as my boyfriend said, a stone-cold BADASS.