A black room. You in the darkness. Your throat was dry, your voice was silent, even though you wanted to scream, but your body was too weak for it. Every inch of your body ached, and worst of all was the pain in your heart. Fear of loss and loneliness hovered over you like a great sword of Damocles. At the same time, your skin was tingling all over as if thousands of spiders were running over it. The darkness took you over more and more. Until your eyes went completely black.
Jonathan just looked at you the whole time. He had tried a new dose and it seemed to almost paralyse you. He didn't know what was going on inside you, what you were going through. But the fear in your eyes, your pale skin and the trembling of your hands were confirmation enough that the dose was doing what it was supposed to. However, the scenario ended a little differently than he had expected. You were only supposed to freeze in fear and not lose consciousness. "The mind can only take some..." he remarked calmly and knelt down beside your unconscious body. He placed his hand gently on your forehead - fever. It appeared that his dose was too strong. However, he remained completely calm. "Y/N, Y/N... Why does it always have to be complicated...? Couldn't you have just stayed in your state of anxiety for a few hours...?" he groaned in annoyance, "It's wrong again. He's not going to be happy about this." He. His client. Crane reached for his silver case and calmly searched for a small syringe. It was an antidote. Against death. "Your life is in my hands right now, Y/N. You look so incredibly beautiful when you sleep.... but even more so when you're scared," he injected you with the antidote and gently stroked your pale cheek, which usually always had a hint of pink. Then he rose and straightened his suit. He called an ambulance, left your flat door open and then disappeared into the night. He was not to be seen here.
*
Beep. Beep. Beep. Cautiously you opened your eyes and found yourself in an unfamiliar environment. It had clearly been a hospital. Your mind was still a little slow and your body powerless, because normally you would have jumped out of bed and run away. You hated hospitals and no one could keep you here for long. But just now you listened to your body, which was crying out for rest and help. "What happened...?" your tired eyes searched for anything in the room to call for help, or even answers. Next to your hand was a cable with a red button - you assumed it would signal to an orderly that you were awake or needed help. But before you could press the button, your heart almost stopped. In the shadows you saw a now familiar figure. Motionless, the dark figure watched you, "Did he do this to you? Scarecrow? Do you still want to protect him?" Protect. That's exactly what you had done the last time you met Batman - for the simple reason that somehow feelings were involved and it wasn't that easy for you. It was a fair question, though. Your throat felt dry and scratchy, "I'm not protecting anyone." Well, that was a lie. "Listen... I really don't feel well right now. B-but... yeah. It was Scarecrow." you admitted.
Admitting it was harder than you thought and it felt wrong. As if you had betrayed him, even though you had not even revealed who was behind his mask. But what was really painful was that Jonathan drugged you so much that you woke up in hospital. Of course, all of this was also on your mind and it was really hard for you to hold back the tears. "And now? What does the information do for you? You can't stop him. You'd be completely helpless yourself if he did that to you." You laughed briefly. What were you thinking? Of course, you agreed to all this to avoid ending up in Arkham and to protect your mother, but how could you let this happen? Allow someone to have such power over you? Allow him to use you, to play on your fears, and most of all, to play on your heart. You cursed yourself for somehow developing feelings. YOU. After all the betrayals of trust in your past. Actually, you went to see Dr. Crane to finally talk about all that. To work on yourself, to find out if maybe it was all you. Because those doubts were always there.
You were alone. You didn't trust anyone. You were hurt all the time. By family and friends. It had to be you, didn't it? That's what you would tell yourself over and over again, even if it was just because you met the wrong people. But it was always easier to blame yourself and doubt yourself. Of course you would have needed psychological support - but again, you were just unlucky. "You have to help me, Y/N. If you know who is behind his mask, tell me. If you can get me one of those cans, please do. I want to help people, help Gotham. And I could never do something like that to you. Think of all the innocent people who could suffer." "And who's thinking of me?" it wasn't fair. That wasn't your true-self, but it just came out of your lips. Actually, it was a fair question too, wasn't it? Sometimes you were so tired of thinking of everyone else and always having to fight alone in the end. But the fear - and that without Fear Toxin - of ending up alone was just too big at the moment. Who thought of you? Who would even notice that you were in the hospital? No one. And your mother? No, you wouldn't tell her about it. She shouldn't worry because she was in poor health herself. She shouldn't worry even more. As much as you would like to have her here right now and hug her.
You raised your hand in a blocking gesture, "Forget it. Don't answer that. It was purely rhetorical. But. I'll see if I can get my hands on one of the cans. I can't promise anything." Your tired eyes looked at the dark figure. When there was a knock on the door, you merely called out, "Yes," to invite the person in. The second the door opened and you took your eyes off Batman, he was gone.
"He always does that." a friendly voice remarked. "I'm Officer James Gordon and I wanted to talk to you about what happened. You were found unconscious in your flat - the door was open, though nothing looked like a break-in. Can you tell me what happened and why he is so interested in you and this case?" That was your first meeting with Officer Gordon, but you had told him very little about what had happened. You couldn't possibly confide any of this to anyone else. If you did, Batman - somehow - had your trust. At least a little. But he didn't really care about you either, only about his exploits. He didn't even ask how you were feeling right now. At the moment your mind was going crazy anyway, which is why you had already said goodbye to Gordon after a few sentences. For this evening you just had to rest. Rest, and then decide what you should do. Where your path would lead you. But this won't the first nor the last time you've seen Gordon.
*
No sooner had the new morning dawned than you were on your feet again. You packed up your things and cleared up a few doctor's appointments so you could get home as soon as possible. It would probably make more sense to stay here for another night for observation - and it would be safer for you - but you just wanted to get away from here. Hospitals were just awful.You were happily surprised to find that your phone was in your pocket when you changed out of the hospital gown into your own clothes. For a brief moment you even considered writing to someone. Someone who could drive you home. Crane? Wayne? One of your friends? Or should you just do it alone as usual? "Fuck it.", you couldn't rely on anyone, so you chose the usual route. Rely on yourself and only on yourself.
Both Crane and Wayne had been checking their smartphones regularly to see if a message from you popped up. But nothing. Wayne didn't know you good enough to realize you do things on your own. Crane heard it with his own ears that you hated asking for help and he still thought you'd call. But you didn't.
The only phone call you made on the day of your dismissal was to Reese, who would probably be giving notice soon. Too much was going wrong at the moment, you were absent too often and he certainly wouldn't put up with it for long. Well, of course you could call Bruce and ask him for help so that he would put in a good word for you, but even that you didn't want to do.
When you finally arrived home, you first removed the yellow barrier: Crime Scene do not cross. A desperate laugh escaped your dry lips before you threw yourself powerlessly onto your sofa. Your thoughts were going crazy and you knew that everything you had imagined in moments of madness was really just wishful thinking. Jonathan Crane only had you in mind as a test object and you had actually believed that he would develop feelings and like you. "You're such an idiot, Y/N." You shook your head. You only had two choices, didn't you? You could continue to let him use you, or you could trust Batman with everything. It was the only way, really, and you wanted to do it, but your fucking heart was getting in the way. Maybe you should confide in Bruce Wayne - not completely, of course. But a little. Surely he'd have some advice, wouldn't he?But before you did that, you decided to write to a friend, Clara. Actually, it was wrong to call her a friend, since you could never really rely on her help, but she probably came closest to that description.
Hey, can we maybe see each other tomorrow? I'm in desperate need of advice and to get some things off my chest.
- Sure, I'll come by around 7pm. Will you order us some pizza? See you tomorrow, Y/N. xx
Actually, right at this second, you had regretted it again and would love to cancel. But now it was too late and who knows, maybe she would surprise you in a positive way. As we all know, hope dies in the end.
"Okay, maybe today is the day of crazy ideas and I'll just ask for something before I regret it afterwards," you talked to yourself as you wrote another message. This time it was for Bruce Wayne. If he spontaneously had time for you, you would also ask him for advice. Again and again you started a sentence before deleting it again. "Come on." You rolled your eyes and finally started typing. What could go wrong?
Hello Bruce, I would like to talk to you. Confidential. Not a word to Batman or anyone else, but I need a friend right now. If it works out, could you just come by my place? I'll text you my address right now. - Y/N
It wasn't long before you had received a reply from him that he was on his way. You used the time he was away to tidy up your flat a bit. In the meantime, however, you had a small mental breakdown and were already regretting this decision. You regretted the decision to invite Bruce Wayne to your home. Your head was just going crazy.
Just after a short time you heard a knock on the door and opened it with a gentle but broken smile. Even people who didn't know you could see that you weren't feeling very well. Bruce did not know how to react at first. You didn't know each other very well and yet you had asked him for help. For a moment he just looked at you worriedly before he did something untypical and hugged you. Nobody knew this side of him. But that was exactly what you needed right now. You let yourself fall completely and the tears came automatically. He was the strong shoulder at your side. The strong shoulder you needed right now.
"I'm so embarrassed, I'm sorry," you said, breaking away from the hug and inviting him into your flat. You pointed to the sofa where he took a seat before you sat down with him. "You don't have to apologise for that, Y/N. What happened...? You're all upset." He played his part perfectly. You couldn't even guess that he knew more about it and that he had already visited you as Batman. "I... this probably sounds completely crazy, but... I'm being chased by Scarecrow," you wouldn't tell him the whole truth, after all a part of you wanted to protect Jonathan. For whatever reason. "It's my own fault. He's been experimenting on me with his... Drugs that induce fear. And I agreed to it. I-I... I had no choice. He threatened to send me to Arkham. To claim that I was insane. And the biggest concern is for my mother. What... what was I supposed to do?!", the desperation was clear on your face. Bruce's hazel eyes rested on you. They showed nothing but understanding and concern. Although it looked different in him. Bruce felt a growing anger. Scarecrow was a thorn in his side and he had to find out what these experiments were so important for and what he was up to.
"I won't tell anyone about this, Y/N. I'm glad you told me about it. Does that mean he has connections to Arkham? Does he know anyone there?", he wanted to connect the dots, but then paused and reached for your cold hands. "You can tell me sometime. For now, I'm just here, all right? If I may give you a piece of advice.... don't let him intimidate you. Don't let him control you." That was exactly the reaction you needed. He listened to you, he was there for you and he didn't think you were crazy. You would have thought everyone was crazy if you had been told that Bruce Wayne would be sitting on your sofa one day. You had heard a lot of preconceptions about him. His reputation preceded him, but he was the exact opposite. You felt that not everyone got to know this side of him and you felt quite honoured. Just as honoured that he spent the evening with you and distracted you. Conversations about all sorts of things. Relaxed and distracting. The evening passed so quickly that you both lost track of time and you finally fell asleep exhausted on Bruce's shoulder. You needed rest. Calm before the storm.
Author's note:
I have the feeling this was more of a boring chapter and I am sorry for that, but I needed to write that down xD I promise there is more action coming the next chapter. I have a lot on my mind, especially with our friend Clara.
I hope - as always - that you still enjoyed the chapter.
And of course: Thank you all for reading and rating or commenting - that means a lot to me! It really does <3
Good night!
xx N