Fear Revisited [Jonathan Crane / Scarecrow]

004

"Easy, easy," Jonathan cautioned Jane as he gently supported her by the elbow, attempting to help her right herself as she guided her keycard into the electronic lock of her room.

It was a miracle that they'd made it up the stairs to the building in the first place with her teetering on the heels she wore that evening. He was quite certain they would've been utterly out of luck with the shape that she was in if it had not been for the elevator.

It had been unwise to allow her to drink to this point, but he had not been in much a position to stop her. She was lucky that be had adjusted the formula of this particular strain of toxin to be safe for use with alcohol and other inebriants.

After all, he wasn't trying to kill her.

Are you sure about that?

He grit his teeth together at the interruption. He was already mildly annoyed at Jane's lack of balance without his aggression being agged on by Scarecrow's words of wisdom.

She closed the door behind him and deposited her handbag on the small table by the door.

"I wasn't planning this," she spoke almost defensively, though she wore the same rosey cheeked grin that had been plastered on her face since her third glass of wine.

He smiled awkwardly, knowing quite well that he had been the orchestrating the plan all along.

"Just give me a second to get out of these terrible shoes," she said as she disappeared into the bedroom. He waited until he could hear the sounds of her moving about before giving the contents of her purse a quick once over.

His search turned up nothing of note, no proof to indicate she'd been lying about her lack of a husband or children. He navigated to the inbox portion of her cellphone and scanned over the most recent messages.

Haven't heard from you all weekend. Call? XO, Steve

How was the reunion? Love, Steve

There were several more in the same vein, much to Jonathan's displeasure. She had not so much as mentioned a Steve through any of their conversations.

Maybe she's not as honest as you thought. Jealous, Jonny?

He shut down the app and tossed the phone back in the bag. Lingering would get him caught.

He set his briefcase, mask inside, on the floor and hung his suit jacket on a coat hook, running his fingers along the inside pocket just to reassure himself that both syringes - one filled with toxin, the other with antidote, should he choose to use it - were still there.

He slipped the first of these, filled with an almost luminescent green liquid, into the pocket of his trousers.

Jane reemerged from the bedroom with her dark hair around her shoulders, still wearing the dress, but now barefoot. He felt that uncomfortable tug at what a more sentimental person might call their heartstrings and forced a smile.

"I don't know what I was thinking, wearing shoes like that," she laughed softly, seeming almost embarrassed at herself, as she took a seat on one end of the plush couch.