Chapter Ten – Loose Ends

He let a deep sigh resonate through the silence of his office; Jonathan was not having a good morning. He had gotten very little sleep, the disappointment of the previous evening still weighed heavily on his mind, not to mention the annoyance of Falcone's arrest. The thing that perhaps bothered him the most this morning was that something was most definitely missing, and that was his assistant. There had been no faint tapping of cheap Mary-Janes behind him as he approached his office, no awkward greeting as he entered. Ms. Matthews had simply not returned to work.

Good riddance! The Scarecrow hissed from the recesses of his agitated mind.

Jonathan didn't want to think about her right now, he couldn't.

The first hour of silence had been the worst, the most judgmental, but soon he found peace in the loneliness of his office. After all, he was no stranger to loneliness.

There came a loud buzzing, he fished the small cellular phone from the pocket of his trousers, it was set to vibrate.

"Crane." He said bluntly into the receiver of the burn phone.

"Dr. Crane, I am calling to express my gratitude." An authoritative male voice boomed on the other end of the line. "I hear that things are coming along well, ahead of schedule in fact."

"Yes, I can be ready by as little as next week." Jonathan informed him.

"You have until the end of the business week."

"So soon?" He tried to let no emotion sound in his voice, but he knew perfectly well that Ra's al Ghul could hear his worry.

"Certain events have transpired which have forced my hand." Was all the explanation he received, Crane didn't need to ask any further, he knew what was to blame.

"Friday it is then."

"You will be most compensated for your cooperation."

The line went dead.

As Jonathan returned the phone to his pocket he let the man's words sink in further.

This is all that Batman's fault, he is the reason we must rush!

We need to take care of that rat with wings, Jonny boy, once and for all!

Jonathan let a smile cross his lips at this… it was the first time he had done so all day.

The week was flying by faster than he ever expected it would, it was now Wednesday and it had been two mornings without the presence of his assistant. Jonathan returned to his office after one of many routine sessions he had scheduled for the day, giving his secretary a vacant look as he collected his messages from her desk.

This week will be the end of me. He thought tiredly as he shut his office door behind him.

Lighten up, Jonathan! The Scarecrow demanded as he sat down at his desk. When this week is out you will be a god among insects, all of Gotham will be crawling at your feet... and then you can have any piece of ass you want!

Jonathan only rolled his eyes at this, even if his alter was simply trying to cheer him up they both knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

As he listlessly cast aside message after message one suddenly stood out to him, it was a message from the warden at Blackgate Prison, it would seem that Falcone was looking for a way out.

"Looks like we're going on a field trip." He said aloud, the Scarecrow began to tremble with anticipation.

I can't wait.

The trip to Blackgate had proved more useful than he could have ever imagined, not only had he personally seen to Falcone but Jonathan had also discovered that there was a spy in his midst, finding out who would be the real challenge.

Falcone had known too much about his business at the asylum, was it one of his hired thugs he had working in the basement who had told? Or was it someone a little less obvious?

There are some many options, it could have been anyone!

You're lying to both of us now, Jonny boy, you know exactly who told!

Jonathan knew what had to be done, unfortunately it would have to wait, he had a prior engagement that evening, he had a loose end that needed tying up in the Narrows.

Jonathan was beside himself with pride, not only had be destroyed all traces of his involvement with Falcone and his little drug operation but he had dispatched the Batman all in one visit to that disgusting apartment. He was two for three so far this evening and had no plans of letting his lucky streak stop there.

The hour was now late, and Arkham had long been shut down for the night, but Dr. Crane and the Scarecrow had business to attend to. He made sure to go unnoticed as he entered the asylum, quietly making his way to the first floor lifts from the backside of the building; there wasn't a soul in sight.

He stepped into the vacant elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor. He let a small smile grace his lips as he subtly tugged his shirt's sleeve downward, covering the metal contraption around his wrist completely with his cuff. When the metal doors opened again it was to his desired destination, it was long past closing hours and Jonathan knew there would be no curious glances from orderlies or whispers from nurses, this part of the asylum was now only used as an infirmary for severely injured or terminal patients that still needed restraining and supervision. He silently made his way down the darkened hallways, only pausing to remove his keys once he approached the locked door to the building's attic space, it had long been closed off for storage. He made sure to lock the door behind him.

The only sound now was the creaking of the rickety iron stairs beneath his feet; they were badly rusted and neglected by staff and there were very few left who even knew of the attic's existence. He heard the erratic mumbling before making it to the top of the staircase, he opened the brittle wooden door to be greeted by the site of none other than Dr. Hugo Strange, he was busy fiddling with test tubes, his back to the door.

Pathetic fool!

Strange turned in that moment, now facing the director, he wore a shiny smile showing through the coarse blackness of his beard. For a moment Jonathan had wondered if the Scarecrow had actually spoken the words aloud, but the greeting that soon came told him otherwise.

"Ahh, Dr. Crane! What brings you from the pits of despair to my garret?" the clueless psychologist greeted him.

"I had an interesting session with Carmine Falcone today." He announced, his attention moving from one liquid filled tube to another on the nearby table. "At Blackgate Prison." He turned now to face the bald doctor, cold eyes meeting cold eyes.

"I'm sure that was quite an enlightening experience." Strange mused completely unaware of the dangers that lay ahead.

Jonathan smirked at this, allowing a moment of silence to pass between them.

"Have you been talking to someone, Hugo?" Crane asked emotionlessly, you could now cut the tension in the attic with a scalpel.

"You know I would never do that, Jonathan. I have too much to lose on my end as well." Came the doctor's reply, an honest one it would seem, but Jonathan knew that at Arkham things were rarely as they seemed.

Crane let a deep sigh escape him as he removed his eyeglasses, securing them in his breast pocket before continuing with his interrogation.

"Falone knew all about my work in the basement, what are your thoughts on how he found that out?"

"He is a very powerful man, I'm sure he could pay or intimidate someone here to spy for him." Strange was standing his ground, never letting one hint of fear show on his pointed face, the Scarecrow found it all so amusing.

"How have you been funding your experiments, Hugo?" He was getting to the thick of it now, soon there would be no more civil words between them.

"How have you, Jonathan?"

Something happened then that Hugo Strange had never expected to see, not in his lifetime… Jonathan Crane began to laugh. It started as a chortle, then grew to an almost wild cackle, Strange eyed the man before him with a quizzical stare.

"Have you gone completely insane, Crane?" It was all he could think to ask at the moment.

"That does seem to be the consensus of the day." Jonathan finally said once his unnerving laughter ended, he then turned from his colleague and took a step into the darkened shadows of the room.

Strange was silent, too confused by the display he had just witnessed to even speak, when Crane turned back towards him in the light of the moon he no longer resembled the doctor who had greeted him minutes before.

"My god, man!" Came Strange's startled response, Jonathan now stood before him wearing what looked to be a worn out burlap sack on his head, the crudely stitched mouth and torn out eyes seemed to mock him in the darkness.

As the Scarecrow began to slowly step towards the bewildered doctor, Hugo knew that his earlier question had now been answered; Dr. Jonathan Crane had gone utterly mad.

The sound of a mechanical puff of smoke filled the attic then, followed by uncontrollable screams of terror.

As the elevator slowly made its way downward towards the ground floor of the asylum Jonathan couldn't help but hum to himself, as he exited the building all that could be heard was the almost joyful sound of Au Clair De La Lune.

Thursday had gone by without incident, the whole asylum was a buzz about how Hugo Strange had been found screaming and clawing at himself in the shut off attic. There were several rumors now that it was Friday, had he gone mad from years of working at Arkham? Where all of the broken test tubes and beakers that had been found in the room somehow to blame for his new mental state?

Jonathan had far more important things to think about, however. Today Carmine Falcone would be transferred to the asylum, and tonight would be his pièce de résistance. All the years of his hard work and misery would soon be validated; soon he would the one laughing while the city cowered at his feet.

Our feet!

Jonathan said nothing to the Scarecrows outburst, he was too busy planning.

The transfer of Falcone had gone down without a hitch, he was still unresponsive and mumbling to himself. Everything was going as planned.

The hour was growing late and soon the asylum would be closed for the evening, soon the real work could begin in the basement… or rather be concluded.

Jonathan began to gather everything he would need for the night ahead; he secured the metal dispenser around his wrist and quickly covered it with the sleeve of his shirt before putting the coat of his suit back on. He was placing every incriminating piece of paperwork he could find into his briefcase when a faint knocking sound drew his attention towards his office door. The sight he saw nearly left him speechless.

"I must say, Ms. Matthews, you are the last person I accepted to see this evening." He managed to say with little emotion.

Sure enough, there she stood at the open doorway, her usual business attire discarded for a simple floral print dress and wool cardigan. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her.

"May I come in?" She meekly asked, he only nodded in response and she closed the door behind her before fully entering the room.

Oh sweetheart, did you pick the wrong night for a visit. The Scarecrow could hardly contain himself.

She did not sit, merely stood in front of his desk, eyes cast downward, toying with her coat that she held in both hands… it was like she had never left him.

"Is there something I can do for you, Jessica?" He broke their awkward silence, her gaze immediately rose to meet his.

"I.. I just…" She stuttered nervously, nothing about her had seemed to change. "We never finished talking." She finally found her words.

"So you waited until tonight to finish talking?" It came out more callous than he had intended, then again, talking to pretty girls was never one of his strong suits.

He wasn't wearing his glasses, she found his icy blue stare to be even worse then she had remembered, so penetrating, so demeaning.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, that's all." Her voice was so small now; she really did remind him of a church mouse.

"I believe you have already told me that, outside of your apartment building." More callousness. "Remember, Jessica?" He drew her name out like a snake hissing at its prey.

She looked away from him then, unable to bare the scrutiny of his gaze, especially when he said her name like that.

What are you waiting for, Jonathan? She's practically gift wrapped and delivered herself to you!

He let his eyes roam her figure now, taking in every last sweet detail.

"Or did you come to apologize for something else?" He asked, suddenly hit by a realization that had not occurred to him until this moment, she knew about his work in the basement as well, could Hugo have been telling him the truth?

"What do you mean?" The innocence in her words nearly made his blood boil.

He slowly made his way from behind his desk towards her, his eyes never leaving hers until he was standing directly in front of her. He then used their closeness to examine her further. Her hair was down, oh how he longed to twist those long curls between his fingers and pull.

Why not?

Jonathan didn't speak a word then, he carefully brought his left hand up to her face, her eyes questioned him as he began to gently run his fingers through her loose hair.

So soft...

Without warning he twisted his hand, wrapping her hair securely around his fingers as he painfully pulled her head backwards. She let out a sharp gasp of air and what could have been a scream, or was it a moan? He leaned his head down to her upturned face, their lips now centimeters apart.

"Stop with these little fucking games of yours, Jessica!" he venomously spat at her in a low voice, she was now trying to shake her head free to no avail, this made him laugh.

"Please!" she begged, her gray pea coat now pooled at her feet as she tried in vain to pry his fingers from her hair, his grip was just too strong.

Before she could process what was happening he had spun them around, his free hand now on her throat as he backed her struggling body up against his desk.

"It's time to be good girl, Jessica." He practically sang as she continued to struggle against him. "It's time to tell the truth." His words were now filled with a severity that stopped her dead in her tracks.

"I don't know what you're talking abou-" Before she could finish he squeezed his hand tightly around her neck, cutting off her air, he then loosened his hold around her neck.

"You only get one warning, now tell me the truth." He was calm now, and this terrified her. "You've been lying to me the entire time we've known one another, haven't you?"

She paused, her teary eyes boring into his. He began to tighten his grip on her neck once more.

"Yyeess!" She quickly confessed and his grip slackened. "Yes, I've been lying to you, Dr. Crane… I'm sorry." She was starting to sob quietly now, he didn't care, he had gotten what he wanted.

Jonathan nodded silently as he looked her quivering figure up and down, he then released his fingers from her hair and let his hand fall to her hip. For a moment she relaxed, thinking the worst was over, but then the hand around her throat began to squeeze tightly.

"Nooo!" She cried out before the ability to speak was stolen from her, her hands now at her throat, trying desperately to claw him away.

"Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?" He practically grunted into her face as she began to turn what he considered a lovely shade of purple.

Her hands began to weaken around his, he could feel her whole body beginning to go limp against him. He found the power he had over her life intoxicating.

He released his hand around her throat and she nearly sank to the floor, the only thing holding her in place was his stern body pressing her against his desk. Jessica tried to focus, tried to make sense of what was happening but she was too overwhelmed by the throbbing in her head and the pain in her lungs and throat.

Jonathan watched her for a few seconds, mesmerized as she violently coughed and choked for air, her face was finally starting to pale again when he returned his hand to her neck. She let out a loud sob at this, her hands wrapping around his wrist, she was simply too weak to defend herself, he did not squeeze again however. He leaned her back onto his desk, his left hand lifting her hips to where she was now sitting atop the wooden structure, her legs spread with him between them.

He was overcome now, by power and by greed. She had been far too easy to dominate, and that caused the throbbing between his legs and the tightness of his pants to become too much for him to bear. His iron clad self control was quickly disappearing, that meant the psychopath was beginning to surface.

She continued to chough, too dizzy from loss of oxygen to process what was transpiring, not until she heard the ripping of fabric. His hand was beneath her dress now, tearing her thigh hi stockings free from her garters.

"Wha.. what are you doing?" She barely managed to ask in her lightheaded state, he quickly thrust his lips against hers in a forceful kiss.

His kiss intensified as his left hand moved up her thighs to the delicate material of her underwear, more ripping soon filled her ears. She began to struggle against him with all the strength she could muster only to feel his right hand start to tighten once more around her throat, she felt so helpless.

I'm surprised, Jonathan, this is the last thing I would expect from you!

You're the one who keeps telling me to take what I want, besides, after tonight she won't be sane enough to tell anyone about any of this.

The Scarecrow growled in response.

Reason meant nothing to him now, neither did consequence. He would be ruling this city by sunrise, who was going to care if he fucked one of Falcone's little whores?

His hand moved to his belt, making quick work of it, then to the button of his trousers, her crying filled his ears and fueled his passion as he drug the zipper of his fly downwards. He keep telling himself that she deserved this, she had lied to him, betrayed him… she had to pay.

A loud beep suddenly pierced the room, it was coming from the intercom on top of his desk to their left. Jonathan quickly paused his movements, releasing his hold on her throat as the voice of his secretary boomed over the intercom's speakers, he instantly cupped his hand over Jessica's mouth.

"Dr. Crane?" the older woman asked in an impatient tone.

Jonathan shot his former assistant a deadly look, one which silently told her to not make a sound, he then reached over and pressed the small silver button on the device.

"What is it?" He tired to not let the irritation sound in his voice, but it was obvious.

He continued to hold his right hand firmly over her mouth the entire time, her tears running down to his fingers as he looked her frail form up and down like a wolf sizing up an injured lamb.

"Rachel Dawes is demanding to see you at once."

He let out a snort of frustrated laughter at this before reaching over to press the intercom button once more.

"Tell her I'm in a very important meeting and that I am not to be disturbed." His left hand returned to Jessica's thigh now, gently stroking her soft flesh before he spoke to her, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just keep being a good girl."

More tears. He smiled at her now, finding it difficult to keep his breathing under control… he had to keep the charade for his secretary going.

"I'm sorry Dr. Crane but she's on the Secure Wing floor. She's demanding to see you, she says it's about Mr. Carmine Falcone's transfer to Arkham."

He now let out a loud grunt of anger, causing Jessica to jump with fear.

"Tell her I'll be right there." He spoke into the intercom one last time, never once taking his eyes off the terrified woman he had pinned atop his desk.

Jessica's eyes pleaded with him as he began to speak to her in a low and unsympathetic voice.

"When I remove my hand from your mouth you are not going to scream, if you do scream I will snap your neck like a twig." There was no doubting his words. "Do you understand me, Jessica?" All she could do was nod.

He let his hand slowly slip down, it came to rest at the neckline of her dress, his fingers gently caressed the exposed skin of her cleavage.

"I.. I was just sorry that I hurt you… that's all." She finally said through her tears after a long moment of silence between them, he sent her a look of sheer confusion.

"What are you talking about?" He suddenly found himself lost.

"Monday night." She shuttered as the words escaped her swollen lips.

Jonathan stared into those hazel pools for what seemed like an eternity, and he found no malice there.

"I'm sorry." She whispered with a hiccupping sob, he felt a sudden sting deep inside of his ribcage.

He stepped away from her cowering form, his hands falling to his sides with defeat, this most definitely not what the Scarecrow had planned.

What are you doing, Jonathan? We can still have her, there is plenty of time! Make that ADA bitch wait!

"I'm sorry that you came back." It was the first sincere thing he had said to her all night.

He turned his back on her then, refastening this trousers and belt before exiting his office, the sound of the door slamming behind him made her gasp loudly in shock… it was over, he was gone.

"It's late Mrs. Andrews, go home." Jonathan told his secretary with disdain as he walked past her sitting from, not looking at her once as he marched towards the second floor elevators.

It was apparent to the middle aged woman that he was not in a very good mood, she decided it best to do as instructed, no questions asked.

Jessica didn't move a muscle for five whole minutes, making sure that the good doctor was long gone before she reattached her stockings the best she could, her hands shaking uncontrollably the entire time. She frantically grabbed her coat from the floor and ran towards the door; she quickly looked back at the desk and realized she had forgotten one small detail, her torn satin panties which laid ominously on the floor beneath the polished wooden frame.

She let out one last despairing sob as she stuffed the ruined garment into her coat pocket before running for her life from her former employer's office.

Jonathan stood alone in the lift as it creaked its way up one floor, the excessive rambling of the Scarecrow was almost too much to bare.

I don't understand you, Jonathan! Why didn't you finish what you started? Do you think she will actually be waiting for us when we get back? You know that she will run, what if she tells someone?

She is of no importance to us. Was the only reply he gave the infuriated voice in his head as he stepped off of the elevator onto the third floor of the asylum.

He suddenly remembered his glasses that were safely tucked away in the breast pocket of his suit coat, he put them on as he rounded the corner of the Secure Wing.

Rachel Dawes stood in the center of the hallway, the same sour look upon her face as always.

Let's just take care of business and get this night over with. He reasoned with his alter.

Little did Jonathan know, the night would not end the way he had planned, and his life would never be the same because of it.

A/n:

As many of you have noticed, I am sure, I did not write the parts from the film… mainly because it would be a little redundant. I would also like the add that I own nothing referenced in this story that has to do with Warner Brothers, DC Comics or anything Batman related, except the characters that are of my own original creation.

This is most certainly not the end of this story, merely the end of one part of the tale. Please continue to bear with me, I know my updates are slow but I assure you that I am doing my best.

As always, thank you all for reading and I hope that you will stick around for the next installment. I will try to have the next chapter completed soon.