FALL - "All thieves and lovers are faithful admirers of sin."
Drama/Romance
[Jonathan Crane x OC]
T for Teen: Violence, Mild Suggestive Themes, Mild Use of Coarse Language.
Summary: High School. Society's bright idea: put all their aggressive, naive youth into one terrarium to torment and emotionally scar each other for life. How anyone can come through that well-adjusted on any level is an absolute miracle.

Chapter Five: FALL – ing/en

Graduation was right around the corner and life for Jonathan had gotten far calmer in the last week as the kids in his school truly left the Scarecrow alone. Rumors that he was involved in Bo and Sherry's accident the night of senior prom circulated among his peers like wildfire. As Schiller said, 'The delight of revenge is murder.' Of course, there was no evidence Jonathan Crane had murdered them despite the police investigation. Bo Griggs was simply a tragic teen drunk driver who crashed and killed himself and his girlfriend that night. It was the sort of rumor he should have started sooner though – he liked the quiet it bought him. Now he just had to figure out how to get away from his great-grandmother.

His train of thought was halted as he spied a small letter at the bottom of his locker, having been pushed into the locker from the grate. The tiny thing had his name written on the front of it and he knew whose handwriting it was by now. He'd told that blond no more lover boy letters and had not gotten one since, so why now? Curiously he opened it:

Jonathan,
I've desired to speak to you for a long time and apologize. We will be graduating soon and I'd like the chance to say goodbye before I leave for university, if you'll allow me. The day of our graduation following the ceremony event I will be able to wait at the riverside by the tall oak until dusk, the one your rumors keep people away from.
Sincerely,
Leonard Broussard.

He had never signed one before. Every time it felt like two different people the way he wrote and spoke were valleys apart. Jonathan tucked the letter into his pocket before he shut his locker.

After the ceremony, Jonathan paced. His grandmother would be expecting him home within the next hour or so. He could have made the easy choice and ignored the man altogether, go right home and begin planning how to slip away into the night. Even so, he wanted closure so there would be nothing to look back on his youth for. It would only take ten to fifteen minutes to walk to that oak – he'd not seen Leonard anywhere after he was handed his diploma and descended the stairs. He might not even be there, Jonathan thought. His pacing turned into brisk walking, he had left his tossed cap on the school grounds and now tugged off the robe laying it on the chain-link fence that divided the football field and the school.

The blond was there. Leaning again the tree with no sight of his cap nor gown either. His arms were folded over his chest and his head was down with his eyes closed. They opened when he heard Jonathan rustling the underbrush to get closer.

Leonard smiled weakly, uncrossing his arms and raising a hand in silent greeting. His lips parted like he wanted to say something yet refrained. His hand fell back to his side and the smile faded replaced by a face of remorse.

"Make it quick."

Leonard pursed his lips before finding the courage to speak up, "I wanted ta apologize for… uh, ya know," he averted his eyes and spoke as clearly as his accent would allow him, "Pinning you against your locker an' pickin' ya up and… I was just tryin' to stop Bo, he wanted to break somethin' maybe kill ya, after ya spooked Sherry."

Spooked huh? He'd just had a normal conversation with her and she used him – of course, she'd cried to Bo behind his back at the Halloween party and was the one who got him tormented in the first place. Broke his heart. Jonathan scowled. He'd resigned himself to the fact that she never liked him and now… the young man let out a sigh, the scowl falling from his face, now it didn't matter. They were both dead, "Yes, well there's a lot of things I'd like to do to you in return for that but I'm not going to," he mumbled under his breath, "mostly because I can't." It was meant to sound like a threat but the blond just smiled. Ugh. He fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'd let ya, ya know. You can do anythin' ya want to me, Jonathan. Ya don't have ta overpower me, just ask and I'll do it. You're in control of what happens next."

He's bluffing, Jonathan thought to himself. Surely there was another of the jock squad around to be that bold right? There was absolutely no way this young man twice his size – not in height anymore as Jonathan had grown inches taller than anyone in his school - would allow Jonathan to do whatever he wanted. Yet, the way Leonard was staring. Waiting with a taunting… caring look. His fingers twitched; he hated that look whatever it was.

He took a step forward, Leonard did not move an inch, did not speak a word. Jonathan balled up his fist and punched him square in the chest, he probably hurt his hand more than the man that just coughed from air being pushed out. His gaze did not waver from Jonathan's face, and that now smoldering look just deepened. Jonathan hit him again in the same spot a little harder.

"Are ya—"

"Shut up." Jonathan spat venomously. He took Leonard's wrist, there was no resistance when he pulled the arm upwards. He wound his spidery digits with the heavier fingers that held many callouses. Closing the gap the rest of the way he pressed their hands above Leonard's head against the tree. The blond was silent, waiting.

He really was. There was no one else around and he was letting Jonathan just do anything to him. The control felt so… intoxicating. He was in control. His mind raced with just this thought alone over and over again. He was in control, not his peers. He was in control, not his grandmother. He was in control, not his fears. He was in control… and he was FALLing hard for that addictive feeling.

Jonathan pressed his lips to Leonard's, soft and tenderly, but there was hardly a response. He pulled away only to feel like he was drowning in a desire for more control, "… Kiss me back." He was unsure if he was telling or pleading and he did not like the way it came out of his mouth. He wanted to take it back. Say it again with more confidence. However, he got what he asked for. Sudden hungry passionate kisses assaulted his lips.

When Jonathan felt he could take no more, when he felt like nothing more than a disgusting whore and sinner for kissing a boy, he was the one in control of when it stopped – hours later.

An Author's Note:
I really wanted to explore the prospect of presenting what first appears as a Marty-Stu and deconstruct them into being more humanly flawed than what was superficially thought of. I'd hoped to do this in a manner that tugged on my audience's heartstrings and to provoke sociological mindfulness. So, I deeply thank any of you who stuck through the tale being spun until its end.
Adieu,
Sir Velveteen

ps: Do you like music? Me too. Want to know what I listened to for writing this?
FALL – HVLO Remix by YMIR & HVLO. To the Toxic People by Unlike Pluto. Superficial by Glooms. Where Evil Grows by The Poppy Family, Terry Jacks, & Susan Jacks. Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen. Angel Of Small Death & The Codeine Scene by Hozier. Lonely by Imagine Dragons. People Are Strange by The Dead South (Cover).