Fear Revisited [Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow]

010

When she came to, Jane did so not with the panicked gasping breath one might in a horror movie after fainting at the pivotal climax of the film, but with a hungover grogginess.

She blinked into the soft light of the room, realizing that it was not a room she was at all familiar with.

That gave her quite the start as she bolted up in a bed that was not her own, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Bookcases lined the walls on every side of her aside from one small break in the pattern which housed a disheleved desk - had she woken up in a library?

She tried to think back to the last thing she remembered, after the fight with Stephen, his blind rage. The image she came up with caused her heart to skip a beat in the most unpleasant fashion.

Jonathan, tearing away that horrible mask. The same voice she'd been terrified of years ago spilling out of his mouth.

Her skin broke out in goosebumps just thinking about the screams that tore their way from Stephen's throat and watching the man who caused them stalk towards her only the reveal those stark blue eyes she was so familiar with.

It didn't make sense, but she had no time to consider it, busying herself with figuring out where she was.

The door opened and Jonathan stepped inside, his movements cautious and slow, like he was approaching an animal of questionable temperament.

"Where am I?" she demanded immediately, moving backwards until her back was flush with the wooden headboard to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.

He closed the door behind him but did not move any closer towards her, for which she was grateful.

"You're safe," he reassured her, answering an unspoken what before providing the where. "You're in my apartment."

"I'm in Gotham? How? Stephen -"

"Is being admitted to Arkham, as of about an hour ago," he supplied easily. "He suffered something of an acute mental break and required psychiatric care rather than jailtime."

The iciness in his voice was nothing short of disturbing, as though what was saying were the absolute truth. Something had snapped inside Stephen without a doubt, but she had been there to hear and see what happened once Jonathan arrived.

She saw the mask, heard the voice, watched the otherwise meek and relatively unintimidating man she knew with Stephen screaming and cowering at his feet.

"What did you do to him, Jonathan?" she asked, trembling slightly.

"We need to talk, Jane," he spoke with an unnerving clinical coolness as he slowly approached her one step at a time. He seemed to take note of the involuntary flinch she gave with each step.

"You can relax," he assured her with his hands up in a gesture to demonstrate his harmlessness, "I wouldn't hurt you."

She wasn't sure she could believe him, although she wanted to. She never anticipated Stephen hurting her either, and yet, that had obviously come to pass. That lingering uncertainty combined with what she had seen of Jonathan that day left her on edge as he approached and took a seat at the foot of the bed.

"How did I get here?" she asked with furrowed brows, that being one of approximately a million questions to which she needed answers.

The trip to Gotham was over a half hour long; certainly if she'd just fainted, she would have been jarred awake somewhere along the way

"There was a bit of a scene when the authorities arrived for Stephen," he explained with a superficial concern etched into his features. "I sedated you so as to spare you further trauma."