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

Jonathon Crane.

"What was the plan Crane? How were you going to get your toxin into the air?"
James Gordon asks, staring into me like I'm in one of his interrogation rooms. As if Arkham weren't my home-field.

"Who were you working for, Crane?"
He yells.

I could give it all up now, I could tell him everything. All about Ra's Al Ghul, the stolen microwave emitter, the gallons of fear serum pumped into the pipes, the gallons of generative serum pumped in there just beside it. But I haven't given up. Not while I still have the girl. Not while I have Raven.

"Oh it's too late,"
I say slowly.

"You can't stop it now,"
Gordon sits back, fear resting just behind his rectangular glasses. He fiddles with my mask in his hands; and i can't help but notice his wedding ring. Maybe he'll be missed when this is all said and done.

He stands up in a fury and stalks out, slamming my mask into the hands of the GCPD officer guarding my cell door. Their security detail is laughable.

The fog of my 'own medicine' has finally begun to wear off. Finally, the vision of that gooey tar black batman has begun to fade as well.

It'll only be a few hours before Arkham is infiltrated. It'll only be a few hours before I'll see her again. She's my ticket out of this twisted deal, if only I can get her to realize her potential, realize what she has lurking just beneath her pretty brown eyes- then we'll be unstoppable.

I've prepared for this week over the last few months, but no amount of preparation could've prepared me for who this 'Raven' would actually be. I had no idea how resilient, bold and beautiful she would be. She had always just been a cog in my plan, but when I actually laid eyes on her- that all changed. If the medical board had any idea of the thoughts that passed through my mind while she was around- I would be disbarred. But of course, half of the things I have done here in Arkham would've merited the same consequence anyway. If it had just been the physical attraction, it would be manageable, but there just something about her. She makes it so difficult.

I can't afford to forge any ties with her, yet here I am. Thinking about her. I simply need to follow my plan, and then free her. I will make good on my promise, she'll be acquitted and I'll be able to move onto the next phase. I need to keep her safe, gain her trust and stay in control. That's all.

I wait, laying back against the examination chair, hands bound tightly inside of a humid straight jacket- watching the hospital's traffic just outside of my window.

Suddenly, a white coated woman walks by, unfamiliar, rolling a gurney.

She must be my replacement.

I straighten to get a better view, quite unstable with all of my limbs tied to one another. I examine the blonde woman, and I see Raven upon that gurney. Asleep, strapped down, burn marks on both sides of her temples.

My rib cage caves and I swallow hard.

"What did she do to you?"
I whisper to no one, rage in my voice.

I want to go to her. To take out the guard and tend to her wounds. To explain all of this. She deserves an explanation. But I can't. So I just sit, waiting, feeling that familiar rush of anxiety pulse through me. I try hard to swallow it, but it's fruitless.

I recall Raven's promise to me, a broken promise, but a promise nonetheless, and I wonder if she has been worried about me too.

"Take a seat freak"
The officer within my cell warns.

And I smile, deeply, because they'll be here at any moment.