Fear Revisited [Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow]

022

Jane had anticipated it taking much longer to sell Jonathan on her idea than indeed it had.

What she had imagined as weeks, maybe even months of mentally preparing herself for what she had asked of him had turned into a few short days.

She was keenly aware of how short the time had been as she navigated the streets on foot, searching for the address he had given her.

The streets of downtown Gotham were not a place which Jane could claim much familiarity, but she knew enough to be well aware that the neighborhood she was currently in was not amongst the safest.

She supposed she understood the logic behind having a hideaway of sorts stashed in the middle of a crime filled neighborhood where it would draw little attention, but she had not expected Jonathan to send her walking through it alone.

She gripped her purse more tightly and walked with her shoulders back, attempting to remember the advice she'd learned in the self defense class she'd taken ages ago — never make yourself look like a victim.

She tried to picture Jonathan coming and going in the area, having a difficult time doing so but choosing to focus on that thought. Anything to keep her from considering what she was about to do.

When she had made her request of Jonathan, it had been in the heat of the moment. It was not until he finally accepted, setting an actual date for the meeting, that she had begun to consider what she had truly asked for.

By that point, it was too late to back out.

She had touted the idea as the ultimate sign of loving acceptance, a trial during which she could prove herself to him. To reneg on the agreement after such big talk would only confirm his disbelief in her.

And so she found herself making her way to some type of warehouse in the heart of Gotham, Jonathan having said the Asylum was too conspicuous a location for any outside experimentation.

She had cringed when he used that word — experimentation. She wanted to believe it was something more, that she was not reducing herself to a mere test subject in order to prove herself to him.

When she arrived at the address, she stared up at the brick building, unsure of how she was to get in. Her cellphone had been locked in her car, parked at a twenty-four hour diner a few blocks away, just as he had instructed her.

"In case things go badly, we can't have the police tracking your location," he had warned her. She had written this off in her mind as a  scare tactic.

Certainly that was all it was, right? It had to be.

She couldn't be so sure at that moment, watching as shadowy figures wandered the streets around her, the corners congested with working girls, cars slowing now and  again. After all, he had led her into Crime Alley on her own...

She bit her lip and tried the door handle to no avail; she was certain she'd arrived at the right building.

"Ten, thirty-one, eighty-eight," a voice came from behind her. Her heart sped up as she whirled around to face the source.

Jonathan stood there, briefcase in hand, looking nothing but lethally serious, no trace of good humor in his expression. He nodded in the direction of the door.

"The keypad," he explained, sidestepping her to punch in the numbers on small electronic pad near the door.

"Where did you come from?" she asked, trying to conceal how unnerved she was by his sudden appearance.

"You didn't honestly believe I'd encourage you to stroll through this cesspool unattended, did you?"

She didn't answer, silently following him inside the building. He locked the door behind them, the sound echoing through the nearly empty room.