The Skin That Crawls From You [A Jonathan Crane Fan-fiction]

Survival.

"Tomorrow is Halloween,"
He says, sitting on a fold up chair he must've brought into my room while I was away.

I sit on my bed directly across from him, propping my hands behind me and staring into those eyes.

"What did you use to do for Halloween?"
He asks.
He asks as if he actually cares.

I squint a bit. Every time I think I have the man pegged, more questions surface. He flips too often to fit any sort of stereotype, he doesn't meet the requirements for any cliche.

Does he want to punish me for my crimes, is he fulfilling some sick sadistic desire or is he truly a Doctor still holding to his oath? He's too hard to read.

But still, he's just a man. A man who I can take control over if I can only figure out how. What makes him tick?

I have caught his eyes on me before, seen that smile in the elevator, I just have to wedge my way beneath his skin.

"Miss Alcott? Halloween?"

I snap out of my thoughts for a moment and redirect my consciousness.

"Back in Seattle, my mother would go to clubs or bars and we would have a sitter,"
I recall.

I think back to those nights, watching her leave our dainty apartment in see-through lingerie, bunny ears and heels. Every Halloween, bringing home someone new, someone drunk.

"Would you ever go out?"

"My mother didn't trust the city, she would always tell our sitters to keep us in no matter how much we begged,"

He nods, listening intently; before scribbling something down onto the clipboard in his hand.

"One night though, Ryan and I snuck out. The sitter invited her boyfriend over and they holed up in my mother's bedroom after she had put us to bed. We just walked out the front door."

That was a fun Halloween. Quietly stripping our pillows of their pillow cases, our mattresses of their sheets. Snipping away at my mother's cotton bedsheets to make eye holes. We were ghosts with pillow case candy bags.

"Did you get caught?"
He inquires.

"When we came back, the sitter was on the couch in a cold sweat, phone in hand about to call the police,"

He smiles a little.

"I made a deal with her, i wouldn't tell my mother about her and her boyfriend fucking in my mom's bed if she wouldn't tell her about our night out."

"And did it work?"

"Yes,"
I smile to myself. Recalling the memory. I was proud of myself that night.

He cocks his head a bit, looking at me through his rectangular glasses.

"Is this brand of behavior typical for you Miss Alcott?"

Brand of behavior?

He must've seen my confusion, as he follows up with a: "This manipulation, I mean."

I don't know how to answer. I'm trying to build trust, if I lie he'll be able to see it, and I'll be a liar and a manipulator. If I tell the truth... I might as well tell the truth.

"Yes,"
I say.

"It's something you learn in the Alcott house, a survival tactic I guess,"
I shrug. Somewhat embarrassed.

Despite my ulterior motive behind opening up, this vulnerability is actually quite nice. He's actually listening, even if he might gas me in a moment or stab me in the neck with a sedative- he's still listening. He's still pretending to care.

"It's not uncommon-"
He says, jotting something else onto the chart in front of him.

"What about you Doctor?"
I interrupt, batting my eyelashes. This side of myself is hilarious to me, but this isn't the first time I've had to use it.

"Me?"
He furrows his brows.

"Yes for Halloween,"

"This is about you Miss Alcott, and I prefer to keep it that way,"

I gaze at the open door behind me, Miss Selleck is no where to be found.

I stand carefully, walking towards the stone cold man without breaking eye contact. He crosses his legs but doesn't break the contact.

"Miss Alcott"
He warns as I approach, he sounds confused, or maybe afraid?

I walk behind him, running my finger into his slick black hair.

"Come on Doctor,"
I beg. I actually mean it, I need to do this, I need to convince him to let me out. I need his help. Everyone is corrupt here in Gotham; you just need to pull the right strings.

I run a hand down the back of his neck softly, and watch his eyes close for a moment, his jaw still tense. He's beautiful.

Until he jolts up. Standing to face me; he kicks the chair out of the way and slams into me. A heat ignites inside me as he pushes my hands beside my head and pins me against the wall hard ; his face inches from mine. I hear my breath catch.