Midnight Dawn (Ch. 15) Sequel to SOTM

[azina]

He turned his horse to leave, but a sudden explosion erupted behind him, a small bomb thrown by Batman. Gunpowder reared, shrieking and Crane, not expecting it, felt himself sliding off the stallion’s back and felt a terrible crushing thud as he fell heavily to the asphalt. Through the haze, Crane felt a mixture of pain, sadness, anger and terror as he saw Gunpowder race off down one of the alleys in fright.

“Now that that absurd jousting match is over with, come along quietly,” Batman said.

He approached Crane, his dark cape sweeping in back of him, but as Crane struggled to get up he felt a terrible pain in his left rib. He began to push himself away from Batman on the asphalt, struggling to make it to his feet.

“Crane, don’t make this harder. You’re injured. Now I’m taking you to the police.”

“No,” Crane gasped. “I must find her.”

Batman reached out to firmly grasp Crane, but he twisted away, indignant at Batman’s touch. The two stood in silence a moment, staring at each other in that dark square, neither of them moving.

Swiftly Batman moved on Crane and Crane felt a sharp blow to his jaw, feeling the hot, metallic taste of blood in his mouth. For a moment his vision almost swam into black unconsciousness and he felt himself sinking to the pavement. Never did he feel such a sharp, swift blow, as if Batman’s fist was welded out of steel and the blow was a hammer strike.

Paying me back from setting you on fire, are you, Bat-man, he vaguely thought.

The concrete hit his back sharply as he fell to the ground and he saw Batman loom over him and the serrated edges of the gauntlets, wondering if he could be cut by them.

Quit laying there like a victim, a rag doll! Think, Crane!

His fingers vaguely fumbled on his right arm as his breathing grew labored from the pain and his vision swam in and out of black unconsciousness.

“Fear Toxin won’t help you now,” Batman muttered. “Not anymore.”

He could feel Batman’s strong gauntlets gripping him and his body begin to leave the cold, hard pavement.

If I am taken and imprisoned I will never see her again.

He feebly opened his eyes and even as his vision swam through the pain and he struggled to lift his arm, Batman gripped him tighter, trying to keep him from moving.

“What are you doing, Crane? You can’t win.”

“I don’t have to win. I just have to save this time.”

And drawing on what seemed like the last of his strength, he slightly lifted his arm against what seemed like Batman’s limitless power and released the invisible gas from the toxin mechanism concealed in his wrist. Batman turned, anger in his eyes, but then that anger dulled and his eyelids drooped, and Crane felt his grip weaken upon him. Suddenly Batman’s legs crumpled beneath him and Crane was dropped a third time to the ground and he mercifully fell on his good rib, but it still hurt nonetheless and he bruised his arm.

For a moment in the pain, his legs not wanting to respond, his left rib aching in terrible pain with each breath, he slowly got to his feet and gazed at Batman who looked so surreal, a massive black heap of cape, steel and body armor. In curiosity Crane almost was tempted to remove the mask, wanting to know who it was, just as Batman had so rudely ripped off his mask back at Arkham as Scarecrow, but no. He had more pressing matters to attend to and he was injured – time might be of the essence now.

Crane gazed at the three alleyways, trying to surmise which path Gunpowder took and wondering if it would be possible to recover him now or if he had escaped from him for good. He now was faced with a terrible choice; go down one of the alleys where unknown danger lurked in pursuit of Gunpowder or turn back to Jackknife Square, which was swarming with police and certain capture.

I can’t be captured now – not yet. She might die if I end up in a prison.

(She might die if you get killed too.)

It was Scarecrow – the first time Jonathan heard his voice since he shoved him back into his subconscious, but he knew repressing him didn’t mean destruction and that he would return. He knew it would only be a matter of time before he heard from him again, but he would not listen to Scarecrow, not anymore, not since that fateful night when he hijacked his mind and body and kidnapped Emily.

No. I won’t listen to you, not ever again.

Jonathan turned his back on the alley leading back to Jackknife Square and entered the unknown, dark alley he believed Gunpowder ran into.

[fosforito]

oh nooo!

Sweet Jonathan punched by Batman!! And now even a rip broken!!

But well, we all knew that something like this could happen. Batman´s not the guy to discuss things out.

What I´ve also noticed that Jon said, that he has to find her but Batman didn´t ask, who...a sign of Batman´s ignorance??

Wait a minute...

so Batman is still not immune to the gas as he started to react again in a way on it?

Or does Jon have also another "medication" on his system (like a sleeping gas or sth??)

Good that he´s aware of scarecrow coming back but taking the decision not to listen to him anymore.

I´m wondering if Scarecrow would accept this so easily.

Will Jon find his Mom?

Will he see Emily again?

Can´t wait to read more!!!

[azina]

fosforito said:

oh nooo!

Sweet Jonathan punched by Batman!! And now even a rip broken!!

But well, we all knew that something like this could happen. Batman´s not the guy to discuss things out.

What I´ve also noticed that Jon said, that he has to find her but Batman didn´t ask, who...a sign of Batman´s ignorance??

Well as you see Batman is more focussed on capturing Jonathan rather than finding out what Jonathan's business is. He keeps saying "I need to find her." and Batman keeps saying "I'm taking you in" and he finally gets sick of the conversation and ends it abruptly so to speak

Wait a minute...

so Batman is still not immune to the gas as he started to react again in a way on it?

Or does Jon have also another "medication" on his system (like a sleeping gas or sth??)

That's the sleeping gas. He does change the mechanism when he's fumbling with it as Batman is approaching him.

Good that he´s aware of scarecrow coming back but taking the decision not to listen to him anymore.

I´m wondering if Scarecrow would accept this so easily.

Actually he isn't ... but that's in the next chapter.

Will Jon find his Mom?

Yes, but much later.

Will he see Emily again?

Yes, but later.

Can´t wait to read more!!!

Yay! Glad to hear it.

[azina]

Emily gazed at the noisy children as they were busy shouting at each other, playing with their toys and fighting. Most of the time she watched attentively and was on the look out for a potential brawl, but today she felt numb on the inside and out, and the children seemed nothing more than passing dream to her disconnected thoughts. The pain had been intense, a dagger point digging sharply into her heart once she realized Jonathan was gone – abandoned yet again by someone she loved and believed in after she gave herself to him.

The betrayal felt even worse somehow than before because this time she had believed it would be different. Jonathan, beyond the cool exterior and the shell he presented to the outside world, seemed to genuinely care about her – dare she believe love? She could believe he loved her in his tender caresses, with his lips upon hers, when his fingers intertwined with her own and her blood sang with passion. Even the thought of it now brought tears to her eyes and she fought to concentrate on her work.

“Emily, are you okay?”

She sat up straight in one of the only adult chairs in the daycare and gazed in the direction of the voice. Emily felt guilty, afraid she had been caught daydreaming, wallowing in her sorrow and heartache. She looked up and saw Sarah Teschner, a woman in her mid-30s with auburn hair and gray eyes, a kindly woman with a wonderful talent with the children and a great help in running the daycare center.

“I’m fine, Sarah, just fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Here.”

Sarah handed Emily a box of tissues and Emily tried not to wince. Was her emotional state so obvious?

“What’s bothering you,” Sarah whispered. “Is it another boyfriend?”

Angrily Emily snatched the tissues box and stared at the children who still were busy scream and roughhousing as they were five minutes ago.

“We should be watching the children,” Emily muttered. “Not talking about my social life.”

“We will watch the children too,” said Sarah, pulling up the only other adult chair and turning it around to face the children. “Now is it a boyfriend? Is it that man you brought in to show the children?”

“I – no – I mean.” Emily heavily sighed. “I can’t date anymore, Sarah. I’m cursed, it’s that simple.”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Sarah sounded a little cross.

“I mean, I thought he loved me, like the others. He was so different. He seemed to care – but it ended before it even began. He’s left me and I don’t even know where he is now.”

“Oh dear one,” Sarah whispered. “I’m so sorry. You’ve had such bad luck, but you mustn’t give up hope.”

“Yes, I know.”

Emily turned away and thought back to the newspaper and what many were calling Dr. Jonathan Crane now. Where he once was lauded as the best and brightest, Gotham City’s genius psychiatrist, now he was called the Monster of Gotham, the one who poisoned the water supply, helped release the toxin and allegedly conducted hideous fear experiments at Arkham.

It all seemed too terrible and twisted for Emily to fathom, and she hardly could believe the sweet-faced boy who accidentally knocked over her books on the way to a psychology class so long ago could now be the “Monster of Gotham,” not the man who she just experienced his loving caress. Could a monster bestow love so sweetly and show bitter hatred and fear toward another? Emily truthfully didn’t know and wished she could understand.

Jerry, who once spent his days huddling in a corner or being teased, had become bolder since his visit with Dr. Crane and held on to the handkerchief that Crane had given him as if it was a valuable gift. Jonathan had done some good – could a “monster” have achieved that? And today even Emily was taken by surprise when Jerry gave a surprised gasp and pointed to the tank located high up on the shelf, which held the butterfly cocoons.

“Look Miss Andrews! Look!”

Emily turned around and saw the cocoon moving and stretching with the creature that was struggling inside to be free, to experience the outside world. Sarah also turned to gaze at the birth in wonder and the children also abandoned their toys and nearly stampeded to the wall and stood on tiptoe to gain a better view of the tank. Gradually two slender insect legs poked through, tearing open the delicate silk, then a pair of antennae and a head slipped from the cocoon’s opening.

The insect then struggled, trying to free itself of the silken prison that had been its home and protection, but now its wings were the most difficult thing for it free. But at last its wings slipped from the cocoon and the newborn butterfly hung upon that which had imprisoned it to rest and dry its wings so it might soon fly. The delicate wings were an iridescent blue swirled with black and it reminded Emily of Jonathan’s blue eyes and his dark hair.

Must I die to myself old self to be reborn like this butterfly? What prison is holding me now that I must break free of?

Rain softly pattered against the window and Emily turned to look outside at the gleaming streets and the passing cars. The water mirrored red and green street traffic lights and shimmering white headlights. People raced down the streets, holding papers over their heads, scrambling for cover.

Where are you now, Jonathan? Are you my cocoon? My cage? Must I break free of you or are you my blue-black wings?

[fosforito]

Ahh, Azina, this was a sad but also beautiful chapter.

Aww, poor Emily.

How confused she must be now. And I even can understand it.

It´s hard to understand how Jon should be a monster when he was so loving and caring for her last night.

But tell me one thing - the press doesn´t seem to know about the LoS, do they? Because they only report about Jonathan...
*scratches her head*

I love the symbolism of the butterfly although there are so many directions how you could understand it (in a positive or in a negative way..)..

anyway:

I liked this chapter and I´m curious what will happen next.

*shouting to Emily*
girl, get rid of your cage to be open for a new born love and go to look for Jonathan!!

[azina]

Emily thought back to the paper that was so quick to accuse, but left more questions in her mind about the night she rode through Gotham with that madman as the city swarmed in panic.

“Allegedly Dr. Crane was connected with the same criminal group that masterminded release of the toxin into the air. The criminal group – its name still unknown – used the monorail and a stolen device from Wayne Enterprises to vaporize the toxin.”

Emily remembered back to the collapsing monorail that nearly crushed her and the madman and wondered if perhaps that was the monorail that was used to release the deadly toxin.

Jonathan, if you are connected with the criminal group that released the toxin, what trouble are you in? Criminal activity, pouring poison into the water supply to be released into the air. No, Jonathan, I shouldn’t love you anymore. You betrayed me and now you’ll be going to jail.

The butterfly, which for the last few minutes had been content to gently opening and closing it wings, suddenly began to flutter in the tank, trying to fly. The children cried out in excitement and joy, jostling each other and pointing. Sarah was trying her best to keep order as Emily remained lost in her thoughts over Jonathan. Emily turned her eyes to the glass tank and saw the iridescent blue-black butterfly trying to fly but now was trapped in the glass tank.

Now you’ll be going to jail.

The butterfly frantically tapped at the glass with its wings, but the confinement was too small and soon it grew weary and ended up resting on the gnarled twig where its shriveled cocoon hung.

(So quick are you to give up him. So soon are your hopes dashed.)

But it’s the truth, Emily Andrews! You’ve fallen for too many wrong men in your life. And just when you think you’ve fallen for the ‘right’ man, he has done something terribly wrong.

(Maybe he has made a wrong decision, like you. This criminal group – who are they? Maybe he has been deceived by them. Maybe he needs your help, not your judgment.)

Emily heavily sighed. Outside the wind howled and the rain clattered sharply as it froze and hit against the window glass. The hours ticked by and the window grew dark and cold. Emily waited until the children were gone before she emerged out into the darkness and storm, and drove through the slick Gotham City streets. The windshield wipers flicked back the pellets of ice as she vainly searched the streets for a familiar face – searching for Jonathan Crane.

[fosforito]

Ha, finally!

Finally she got her ass up to look for Jonathan!!

(Maybe he has made a wrong decision, like you. This criminal group – who are they? Maybe he has been deceived by them. Maybe he needs your help, not your judgment.)

I liked that phrase very much. It also shows again that we´re talking about a human being, that Jonathan is - he´s not a monster or something...

Ah and you also answered my questions with that chapter, if the newspapers only report about Jonathan.

Go on Azina, I can´t wait to read more

*hands you a Cillian bar*

here, get some energy ....

[azina]

Jonathan Crane staggered through the narrow alleyway. More and more he was convinced Gunpowder had not taken this route. It had tapered off as he journeyed further between the adjacent buildings and began to get a distinct claustrophobic feeling as the walls began to squeeze closer and closer together. Pain jabbed him with each breath and he vaguely clutched the side of the tender rib, wondering if it was broken or just bruised.

I hope it isn’t broken. I can’t afford to go to the hospital now – the police will find me.

(Do you think you can play the hero now? Whoever kidnapped dear ol’ mom would laugh to see you now, mocked Scarecrow.)

Jonathan gritted his teeth, trying to ignore Scarecrow as he kicked away the empty aluminum cans from the alley and struggled to reach its end. He hated almost how he was growing accustomed to the darkness and filth. Just a few days ago he was the head of Arkham Asylum and one of the most respected psychiatrists in the city. But since that night when the Bat-man broke into Arkham and the toxin was released into the city he was a hunted criminal, reviled by all maybe even loathed by Emily. He closed his eyes and gripped his side, the pain too great for a moment, before he continued on.

How can I continue on, living like this? No food, no shelter – you have no idea where to look.

(Jonathan, dear Jonathan, why don’t you leave it in my hands? Scarecrow will take care of you.)

You tried to steal my life and my love! The hell with you!!

(Jonathan, for a head of psychiatry you’re being very irrational. Think this through. What options do you have? Who are your allies? You have no one – except me.)

Wrong! I have no one!

Jonathan barged out of the end of the alley in anger and leaned against the vandalized brick wall, wheezing in pain. The street was still empty and darkness shrouded Gotham City in its sleep. How soon until Batman awoke and pursued him with renewed purpose he did not know. The cold pierced him now through the thin dress coat he usually wore to the office, but it could not keep out the long hours of icy chill he was being exposed to.

Hunger also gnawed at him and some thirst; Jonathan was scolding himself for leaving Emily’s apartment so quickly without taking any provisions. But he was not interested in stealing from her cupboards or ransacking her pantry, not when he first held the accusing paper in his trembling hand. He knew this time would come, but how he hoped it wouldn’t be so soon – that at least he could treasure one night with Emily. But she would see the paper, he couldn’t hide it from her and he had to leave and leave quickly. He took what he came with and did not burden himself with extra pounds of food and water. Now as Jonathan was cold and hungry outside the alley he regretted it though, wishing somehow he could return to Emily, even ask for her forgiveness.

No, she can’t love me, not now. How can she? She knows what I have done.

(Exactly, whispered Scarecrow. People are fickle, loving only what they can get out of you and when you are no longer of use to them they will turn on you as all of Gotham has! But I make no judgments on you, Jonathan. I lay no blame and will love you even when she no longer does.)

You are worse than any of them. Whereas I have been used and thrown aside you would possess me and destroy my life, my soul!

Scarecrow continued to mutter, pleading his case but Jonathan was no longer in the mood. To engage in an argument took energy and he didn’t want to waste it on something as pointless and frustrating as a fruitless debate with his inner demon. Jonathan walked some ways from the alley he emerged from and took several side streets before he found a small recessed area away from the main thoroughfare where he could rest and it wouldn’t be a very obvious place for police or Batman to go looking for him.

He sat down upon some crumpled newspapers but the cold of the pavement still seeped through his coat and he shivered slightly. The first pale golden rays of the dawn were visible over the jagged horizon of buildings and already some lights from a few random windows were turning on – early morning risers getting ready for the day ahead.

How I wish I was back in my own bed and this was all just a nightmare I was about to wake up from. That any moment my alarm will go off, I’ll be back in my own apartment and they will be expecting me at Arkham.

And mother is still back in cell 221? Well if this were a dream, I’d wish she was back in her apartment and we were having coffee and cake before the terrible nightmare began, before her madness.

Although Jonathan wrapped the coat tightly around himself, he was shivering regularly now, unable to keep warm. He tucked his long legs closer to his lanky torso, hoping this would help trap some body heat.

(Jonathan, you idiot! What do you think you’re doing? Don’t you realize I have a great destiny to fulfill!)

But Jonathan didn’t answer, his eyelids drooped and his head dropped upon his chest as he fell into unconscious exhaustion.

A golden light filled the room and everything seemed to move slow and gentle, the air almost seeming to hover in mid-breath. Jonathan walked into and empty room that seemed quite sparse, there was no carpeting upon the hardwood floors and on one end the walls were painted and on another it was wallpapered, as though the previous owners couldn’t make up their mind on the decorating.

As Jonathan walked into the room suddenly he noticed a woman was at the window, gazing outside. It seemed to be spring outside, the breeze wafting in sweet apple-blossom scents and yellow and red tulips fluttered lightly in the garden. The woman had rich brunette hair and wore a white filmy gown which almost was luminescent against the light coming through the window. Jonathan continued to approach the woman and tried to speak but found he couldn’t. As he drew closer the woman turned and saw it was Emily, heavily pregnant. She gently stroked her belly and Jonathan smiled, joy filling his heart.

Emily, the child – our child?

But as he reached for her, to embrace her in love, in happiness and hope for their life together and the new life they created, she vanished and the window remained before him. Spring had vanished and outside the wind whistled bitter and cold. The corn swayed thick and heavy upon the stalks and a gruesome, evil looking Scarecrow glared back at him from out in the fields. Black crows cawed, their wings flapping upon the cold air and their beaks picked and pulled at the twine binding the evil Scarecrow fast to his pole out in the lonely cornfield. To Jonathan’s horror, as the Scarecrow was pulled loose of the pole, it didn’t fall like a rag doll into the cornstalks but instead began to walk toward the house.

(Jonathan, you cannot escape. You cannot run away from me.)

A shriek echoed in Jonathan’s ears and now it was night within the house and so dark he couldn’t see out into the cornfield – couldn’t even see if Scarecrow was almost right at the house or inside the house now. But the shriek echoed again and Jonathan turned to find it within the room and coming from the crib. Jonathan slowly walked over to the crib and peered down at the blankets. Inside the darkened crib was an infant that had a gruesome Scarecrow mask over its head.

Jonathan angrily yanked the mask off the child but each time he did so it reappeared.

No! Scarecrow what have you done! What have you done to my child?

(It is not your child, Jonathan, gloated Scarecrow. “It is MINE!)

[fosforito]

OMG Azina what a chapter!!!

First I was: awww, poor Jonathan - outside in the cold, freezing, injured..

damn, where is Emily when he needs her the most??!!

And then when I read tha 2nd part about Jonathan´s dream... OMG!!

Somehow the last sentances reminded me of "Rosemary´s baby" - I know, it sounds rude somehow but when Scarecrow said "It´s mine" I just was going like: "Damn, he´s really the Devil in persona."

So, was this only a nightmare Jon had in his bad physical condition?

Or is he somehow mentally connected to Emily, having a vision that she got pregnant in the night they have spent together?

Can´t wait to read more..

[azina]

fosforito said:

OMG Azina what a chapter!!!

Aww, thank you.

Somehow the last sentances reminded me of "Rosemary´s baby" - I know, it sounds rude somehow but when Scarecrow said "It´s mine" I just was going like: "Damn, he´s really the Devil in persona.

Hey that is very good observation because what I wrote earlier was he was arguing with his inner demon, but we all know Scarecrow is not the Devil, but that is an interesting take, didn't think of that.

So, was this only a nightmare Jon had in his bad physical condition?

Or is he somehow mentally connected to Emily, having a vision that she got pregnant in the night they have spent together?

Well it's a bit of both ... Jon is hurt so he's kind of hallucinating a bit but he's also thinking about his relationship with Scarecrow and how that night in Gotham he had designs on Emily - when he basically tried erase Jonathan from his own life and take Emily for his own. As far as the pregnancy, I know you'll wring my neck if I say Wait and see, but no, she really isn't pregnant, but Jon is having wish fulfillment in some way in the dream until Scarecrow twisted it.

[azina]

Jonathan awoke with his heart racing and gasping for breath. He swallowed, his throat dry, his body trembling and wondered for how long he had slept. Although the day was overcast, it appeared to be early afternoon as pedestrians strolled by; not realizing who they passed once was the head of Arkham Asylum and was one of the most hunted men in Gotham City.

The location is too obvious, go deeper into the shadows.

Jonathan stretched out his legs and found them stiff and numb, and when he rubbed them to return some circulation in them he was greeted with pins and needles. He suddenly felt water rolling down his cheek.

No, I can’t be crying.

But more droplets came from overhead, and then a sudden deluge as rain poured through the streets and pedestrians scrambled for cover. In less than a minute what little warmth provided by the thin dress coat was gone and he was colder than he imagined he could be and shivered uncontrollably.

(Jonathan, you must find warmth and shelter. You will die out here. I can’t allow that.)

Scarecrow being the rational one? I truly have gone insane!

(Jonathan, get up. Jonathan.)

The rain was now coming down in sheets and the roads now had only the occasional car that would pass by, almost splashing water upon him from the dirty curb. With a trembling, wet hand, Jonathan dug into his soaking pant’s pocket and yanked out a bottle.

(Jonathan – what are you doing?)

I – I have rain water – I can take this – can get rid of you for now!

(Jonathan be sensible! Listen to me for once!)

Jonathan gazed at the well worn pharmaceutical bottle that held his schizophrenia medication Zyprexa and as the rain hit the label the ink began to slowly bleed. Carefully he opened the childproof lid – which he always found absurd because he had no children to protect from taking his medications – but didn’t open the lid right away, protecting the valuable pills from the pelting rain.

(Well what are you waiting for? Take your damn pills! Banish me for now if that is what you want! But by doing so you are denying your greatness. Instead of being hunted by this city you could rule it! Instead of cowering in fear you could be invincible! Jonathan dwelling inside you is me. Whereas you are the caterpillar, I am the dragon!)

And you think what you told me will help your case, asked Jonathan.

(What choice do you have? You will be hunted for the rest of your days now! The police, the Bat-man – do you think they will ever stop hounding you? You are injured, cold, starving! What good are you now at finding mommy! And your pills, how long will they last before they too run out or you are caught? Face it, Jonathan, there is only one option left – Me!)

He turned the pill bottle over in his hand, his eyes gazing at the label and its side effects.

You’re wrong, Scarecrow, I have more than one option. I could choose neither of us.

For a moment there was dead silence from Scarecrow, then a furious scream echoed through his mind.

No, Jonathan! NO!! I won’t allow it! You won’t stop me! Not EVER! You won’t stop me from my Reign!

Jonathan almost calmly looked at the pill’s label warning Do not take more than two tablets at once.

Scarecrow fierce screams and curses rattled like a mad animal trapped in a cage. The cold rain turned to ice and gleamed like harsh prisms in the street lights. The pellets of ice cut into Jonathan’s skin and fell like diamond tears upon his soaked coat. Weakly he pushed himself up against the wall to give himself more shelter from the storm, but he was so cold, soaked to the bone, shivering and tired. Jonathan’s eyes almost drooped and recognized it as the beginnings of hypothermia.

A car passed by and in his half-dreamings he almost thought it looked familiar. Jonathan struggled to hold tight to the bottle, wondering if he should take all the pills or just one to quiet the shriekings of Scarecrow or silence him forever. The ice clattered in hard, thick sheets against the brick wall and pelted against the windshield wipers of the car as it stopped in front of him. Someone stepped out of the car and in stood in front of him.

Exhausted and feeling like Jonathan was already hallucinating from not having his medication for so long, he stared at the person in front of him through water smeared glasses. The lamp light dimly shined upon the person who stood before him and the ice cascaded off the long, black coat.

“Ah, Jonathan, I have been looking for you, but did not expect to find you here.”

“No, it can’t be,” whispered Jonathan.

“I would think you would be happy to see me. How the mighty have fallen, but not for long. We shall rebuild, and now that we have found you it shall not be so difficult. Come, Jonathan, we have work to do. Your genius will be most useful.”

The large, muscular hand reached out and Jonathan hesitated, not wanting to take his hand.

I trusted you and you betrayed me.

But suddenly the strong, firm grip of the hand grasped Jonathan’s and pulled him to his feet as though Jonathan’s weight was nothing. Jonathan gazed upon him part in relief, part in anger as he looked upon the man he had met three years ago – the man he had to thank for his current fallen state – Henri Ducard.

[fosforito]

Aehm.. umm.. WOW!!!

At the moment I don´t know what else to say.

There are so many things going on in this chapter, just - wow!!

Okay, step by step:

oh maaan, it´s breaks my heart into pieces to see poor Jonathan like this!
I´d like to run out and save him from the cold and the pain.

Oh, you chose Zyprexa then Now I have to think about our convo about medication

I like the interaction between Jon and Scarecrow. It shows how serious Jon´s schizophrenia really is (megalomania would be a better description of what Scarecrow really has).

OMG - when I read that part where Jon had the pills in his hand I was really thinking for a split second "Oh no - he´ll take them all now"

Although you told me they would meet each other - when this person came up, I was thinking of Emily, not of Henri Ducard!!

Again, great chapter - can´t wait to read more.

[azina]

fosforito said:

oh maaan, it´s breaks my heart into pieces to see poor Jonathan like this!
I´d like to run out and save him from the cold and the pain.

Ohh, yeah. Poor Jonathan. I just want to wrap a warm blanket around him and invite him in for some hot soup, a hot shower ... a warm bed.

I like the interaction between Jon and Scarecrow. It shows how serious Jon´s schizophrenia really is (megalomania would be a better description of what Scarecrow really has).

I'm trying to decide which Scarecrow is more frightening, yours or mine ... well they both are trying to control Jonathan and take over his life ... although my Scarecrow also wants to take over all of Gotham too so that is kinda of dangerous, isn't it? Okay, Scarecrow, time to lay off the coffee.

OMG - when I read that part where Jon had the pills in his hand I was really thinking for a split second "Oh no - he´ll take them all now"

Yeah, poor Jonathan. That would be horrible. I don't want him to die, even if it would end Scarecrow.

Although you told me they would meet each other - when this person came up, I was thinking of Emily, not of Henri Ducard!!

Well I was doing that on purpose, not mentioning who it was right away and even leaving the dialogue kind of ambiguous at first ... almost making it plausible it could come from Emily.

[fosforito]

azina said:

Ohh, yeah. Poor Jonathan. I just want to wrap a warm blanket around him and invite him in for some hot soup, a hot shower ... a warm bed.

mmmm... yeah ... ohhh I´d do the same... and then either caress him to sleep or... well.. do..something else... mmmmm *-P

azina said:

I'm trying to decide which Scarecrow is more frightening, yours or mine ... well they both are trying to control Jonathan and take over his life ... although my Scarecrow also wants to take over all of Gotham too so that is kinda of dangerous, isn't it?

yeah, you already said it. you´re also focusing more on the "Gotham aspect" which means that Scarecrow wants to take over all of Gotham.

To be honest, I´m still not sure about focusing that much on it in my story because although I´ve watched the movie for so many times I still don´t know if Jonathan is involved in all this just for personal reasons (revenge etc) or if he´s really focusing on becoming a true criminal and starting a big criminal career like Al Capone or sth, you know what I mean?.

As Ducard said to Bruce in the movie, Crane was thinking of producing the fear toxin to blackmail the people of Gotham while the LoS wants to destroy the town and kill everybody.. so I´m not really sure what Jon´s really motivating to work for the LoS.

But as a part of schizophrenia, those demons are influencing very much the personal life of the patients so currently I´m concentrating more on the personal aspects, what means Scarecrow wanting to destroy Jonathan to finally take all over his life.

azina said:

Well I was doing that on purpose, not mentioning who it was right away and even leaving the dialogue kind of ambiguous at first ... almost making it plausible it could come from Emily.

Oh, do you know what I also realized now?

That Ducard is supporting Scarecrows megalomania in his own way too by telling "There´s work to do. Your genius will be useful".

I mean, damn - how can someone cured from schizophrenia when everybody tells him what his inner demon is telling him all the time??

[azina]

I wrote a lot more than this but didn't edit the rest yet ...

A hand reached out and clutched a coarse, sweat drenched blanket in a small, dimly lit room that had only the bare essentials – a desk, a chair, a locker to keep one’s clothes and of course the bed he now lay upon. Jonathan numbly realized the hand was his own, although he hardly had any sensation in it at the moment due to the intermittent fever and chills running through his body.

When he first was brought to this small room, Ducard had given his men an order “Keep him alive and keep him comfortable.” But as Jonathan continued refusing food and only took a little water, the men who came in on scheduled intervals to check on him proved to be poor nurses. They had cold eyes and even worse bedside manners, brusquely removing the untouched food without a word.

As night fell and the room darkened, the illness grew worse and it seemed that Ducard’s men had forgotten about him. Jonathan didn’t expect much at this point, but the fever seemed to twist his mind in ways even he hadn’t anticipated. Thankfully the door was closed and only the slightest muffled sound of men being put through military drills could be heard. A painful loneliness crept into Jonathan’s heart and a tear rolled down his cheek. Soon in his misery he sobbed; his trembling hands pressed upon his burning face and a childish voice echoed in the back of his mind:

I want my mom. I want my mom!

But then a more adult Crane thought of Emily, how she might bundle him in a nice warm bed with thick blankets and bring him some hot soup. It was all very infantile and absurd, and Jonathan realized this, even as the fever addled his brain, the tears continued to stream from his eyes and the loneliness hollowed out his heart.

Emily, I wish I didn’t leave you now.

Jonathan closed his eyes and his hand loosened its grip upon the sweat soaked blanket.