a dance of doves & crows ( jonathan crane )

catharsis and coffee .

       content warning: def a heavier chapter! discussions of assault, assault aftermath (again, nothing in detail! jules is just an assault survivor & an absolute girlboss )

                                  song of the chapter :    motion sickness - phoebe bridgers

        It had been six weeks since their game started. Six weeks of a stubborn, unspoken battle between Jules and Jonathan. 

         At times, it was exhilarating. Jonathan would think he was getting somewhere, that he was finally starting to understand the circumstances of her crimes, and then she'd completely pull the rug out from under him. 

          She'd get this look in her eyes. Full of clarity and what could only be described as something feral or wild -- the hair on the back of his neck would stand right up. He'd hold his breath, like that would stop her from seeing right through him.

          It felt like being dunked into an ice bath, and Jon swore she could see everything. In those moments, it was like she perceived everything. Toxins, Fear, Scarecrow -- It was like she knew, but that was impossible. Logically. He knew. She had no way of knowing. 

          That didn't stop Scarecrow from buzzing with excitement every time it happened.

          When it wasn't exhilarating, it was exhausting and frankly - a little infuriating. She would dance around topics, avoid digging into things...

          It had been six weeks of seeing each other several times a week, and yet he hardly knew her. The game was far from over. 

         "Long morning so far, Johnny?"

          A thick Brooklyn accent called out as Doctor Harleen Quinzel entered the staff Break Room, breaking his train of thought. She looked the same as always ; blonde hair tied up for convenience, girlish makeup that toed the line between artistic and professional - and were those... gummy bear earrings? Yesterday, he was sure they were spades, but he hadn't been sure.

         Leave it to Harleen to ignore the dress code on a regular basis.

       "Yes, actually, I've had three meetings already, and none of them were with patients."

        Not to mention the extra-curricular activities that kept him up until three AM the previous night. 

         Harleen hummed in understanding, putting a pod of something in the Keurig machine, and pressing the glowing 'brew' button. Next to the coffee station sat her folders and notebook, all radiating pure Harleen energy.

        "Sorry, Jon. That's what you get for being an overachiever."

         He huffed a small laugh in response, watching the machine pour out Harleen's beverage of choice into a "I <3 NY" mug. Hot chocolate? Coffee? Tea? Your guess was as good as his. It was approaching noon, but most of the staff at Arkham depended on regularly drinking caffeine to get through the day.

        "How's Lovecraft in the private sessions? I've been meaning to share notes with you on her, she's a bit of a weirdo."

        Crane sighed, shifting to lean his weight against the counter. Three weeks ago, he had arranged Jules would start attending group with Harleen, attempting a new strategy with their long-winded game.