Philophobia (Jonathan Crane, O/C)

Blurry Mind & Clouded Eyes

And I know now that I never wanted her to look at me that way, as though she doesn't even know who I am. She does know me, she knows what I've allowed her to know, which is more than most. Only, she doesn't see it that way, she sees me as being a liar. Which I was a liar in every respect, I should have told her about the experiments, only she isn't very understanding... What am I saying?

"Don't come near me ever again," she hisses. "You're fucking insane and demented."

I raise my eyebrows, that isn't what I would classify myself as being. I put my hands up, to show her I'm not going to touch her again. She nods, thinking that she has one the full argument and she walks to our shared closet, starting to pile up clothes. I stand there watching, knowing that I have to memorize every part of her if I want to keep her as a memory and not as a nightmare.

She slams the closet door shut with most of her clothes shoved into the bag, looking up at me with her hazel eyes, they soften for a moment and silent pleading is evident. Only I don't know what more to tell her, I can't deny who I really am. She wouldn't believe me, the evidence was right in her hands. I can't lie to her. I can't tell her that I can ever truly get rid of Scarecrow, because I know that it's a lie. I promised her I would never lie to her.

"I'm not," I say finding my voice.

Alice rolls her eyes.

"Did you drug me?" She asks as she walks into the bathroom, I cross my arms, closing my eyes and thinking back to every interaction we ever had, there were close calls but I never drew a syringe out on her.

"No, I never did." Though there were many times when I wish I had as well.

"Who knows about this?" She asks stepping out of the bathroom. "You know what," she puts her hands up, "I don't care."

Alice shoves more of her belongings into her duffle bag, hosting it over her shoulder, leaving the bedroom and walks down the hallway.

"Please, let me explain everything." I follow her out of the bedroom to try one more time to reason with her.

"Explain?" She screeches. "You're a monster." And the first knife stabs my half beating heart at her words. "A sick bastard who hurts people for his own sick enjoyment, what part did I miss?" She spins around and forcefully pushes me back. My eyes grow wide at her sudden outburst.

            'I knew it.' Scarecrows voice hisses in my head, dormant for almost a year and now he decides to make his presence known. 'She would understand.'

            'She wouldn't,' I reply, somewhat believing that my statement is in fact a lie and she would understand me. Well us. But I am never going to let Scarecrow know that I have the sinking feeling that Cassandra is probably the only female relationship I will be able to maintain for the rest of my life. 'I missed you.'

            'Shut up, I don't do touchy feely.'

"I'm going to tell the board about this. You are going to have your license revoked," she screams. A switch in my brain flips on, my emotions start to fizzle out of my body. I start to feel numb, knowing that Scarecrow will soon enough cloud my senses and allow me to subside. I smirk, licking my lips, this is going to be fun, like all those times before. The more human side of me fades, letting in the darkness and allowing it to fill me with rage.

'No good little bitch," Scarecrow snarls.

"No you won't," I respond to her, "Because you aren't going anywhere," I forcefully grab onto her arm, twisting it back, she drops her bag at the sudden physical contact. I move her around so that my arm is around her throat, not hard enough to cut off her breathing, just enough to render her defenseless.