Fear Revisited [Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow]

008

Trigger: graphic domestic violence

"Things are shaping up to be pretty odd. Little deaths -"

" - in musical beds. So, it seems I'm someone I've never met," Jane belted out the words along with the song playing through the speakers of her car. She drummed on the steering wheel nervously as she headed towards home.

Home, where she would have to face the conversation she and Stephen needed to have.

It tied her stomach in knots to even consider the subject and so, for most of the drive home, she had done her best to block out the subject completely.

It was much easier to reminisce over the weekend she'd spent with Jonathan, the entire thing seeming like something torn from the pages of a cheesy romance novel. Girl meets long lost love, begins falling for him all over again - she could scarcely believe it had happened in reality.

Thoughts of Jonathan eventually routed back to Steve in the monotonous forty-five minute drive, and rather than try to block them out, she simply hummed along with her music and attempted to form something of a script for the conversation in her head.

She had to be gentle, she knew. After all, it was scarcely Stephen's fault that Jonathan had reentered the picture.

Though she felt little spark with the all around average guy, she likely would have continued in complacency had her world not been so radically altered. Steve didn't deserve to be punished for the effect Jonathan had on her.

There was no kind way to tell a person that they just couldn't be someone else.

Even as she pulled into the parking garage of her building, she had relatively little idea what she was going to say. Nothing was going to make the gist of the conversation any less painful for Steve.

She took the elevator to the twelfth floor where she lived, dragging her suitcase behind her; all she wanted was a short nap in her own bed, a hot shower in her own bathroom.

Jane had not anticipated opening the door to a dimly lit scene, the blackout drapes pulled and candles casting a soft glow around the apartment. Some sort of tinkling, romantic melody played in the background, and as she took a wary step in, she realized she was walking on red rose petals.

While any girl would typically fawn over the romantic scene laid out before her, all Jane felt at that moment was absolutely nauseating trepidation - clearly Steve had planned some sort of romantic gesture.

It seemed unlikely that a home invader would put forth so much effort into showmanship, but she halfheartedly wished that were the case. It would be easier to deal with than this on top of what she had to tell him.

"Stephen?" she called, dropping her bag by the door. "Where are you?"

There was no answer. She sighed in frustration, genuinely in no mood to play the game he clearly wanted her to play.

She followed the trail of rose petals, careful not to step on them as she made her way to the kitchen where they led.

Once there, she stopped in the doorway, just a few steps away from Steve. He was beaming and holding two champagne flutes as he looked at her expectantly.

"Welcome home, Sugar Bear," he spoke with the broadest smile, stepping forward to hand her a flute of bubbly champagne.

She awkwardly accepted the drink, hoping there was an approximation of a smile gracing her face as she tried to ease into the right mindset to talk to him.

"What's all this for?" she asked, holding the glass as though it were some sort of offensive creature the dog had dragged in.

She wasn't attempting to seem so underwhelemed or unimpressed, but her guilt was already devouring her. He'd gone through all that trouble when she had every intention of breaking his heart that day.