Fear Revisited [Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow]

006

Thank you for all the feedback regarding where you guys wanted to see this going! Obviously I'm not going to tell you, as that would ruin the story, but I did come up with something I think will really work well.

The next morning, Jane awoke with slightly less of a headache than she had been anticipating.

She also woke to an otherwise empty bed, the side Jonathan had occupied now remade. Her heart lept in panic for a moment before she noted the sound of the shower running in the adjourning bathroom - so he hadn't slipped out in the night.

She was actually quite glad for the solitary moment to reflect on everything that had happened the previous evening without Jonathan's intense stare looming over her.

She had behaved entirely out of the ordinary the night before in several ways, none of them she was entirely comfortable with.

Despite the amount she had consumed that weekend, she rarely drank. It was simply not a day to day part of her life back home, the life she had clearly forgotten all about.

Which was very much the next unusual thing she had done. She was not a one night stand type of girl, and as she was regretfully remembering as she mused about the feeling of Jonathan's lips on hers, she was not single.

Though she had not considered him since shortly after her arrival, there was still tge issue of Steve - Stephen Banks, heir to his father's fourtune five-hundred company, stage five clinger, and Jane's boyfriend? (with a heavy emphasis on the question mark) of nearly a year.

Yes, there was indeed Steve, who was...

Her phone vibrated on the nightstand and his face - brown eyes, blonde hair, and a Sears catalogue smile - filled the screen.

Oh, shit.

She cursed him, herself, her luck, and anything else she could think of as she rushed to pull on both underwear and a tee-shirt, quickly slipping from the room before answering.

"Hello?" she did her best not to sound either hungover or suspicious.

"Hey babe! I was beginning to think you'd skipped town for good," his voice sounded animated through the receiver. She'd never noticed how cheesy it sounded until she'd spent the weekend listening to Jonathan's nearly flat affect.

"No," she laughed softly, checking over her shoulder as took sanctuary in the kitchen, "I've just been busy. Catching up with old friends, you know."

"You didn't take home the quarterback, didja?" he joked.

No, just the valedictorian, she answered him in her mind with a pang of guilt.

"Of course not," came the reply she gave out loud, picking at a fraying seam on the hem of her shirt as she wished the ground would swallow her whole.

"You don't seem very talkative," he remarked, enthusiasm decreasing.

"I'm just tired. It was a long night," she answered.

Though she couldn't pretend she regretted what had happened with Jonathan, she hated lying, regardless. Steve hadn't done anything to deserve being lied to, his only crime being so very unlike Jonathan Crane.

"I'm looking forward to you coming home tomorrow, can't wait to see you, actually. And I've got a surprise for you."

She could hear his smile through the phone which led to picturing it vividly in her head. That image only deepened the sick feeling in her stomach.

She did not want a surprise - she wanted nothing more than to live in the bubble of a life she'd woven for herself that weekend, free from choice and the consequences that came with it.