Imagine Book 2

Please Come Home- Jonathan Crane (Batman Begins)

Fem Y/N

𝘚𝒎𝓾𝒕 𝒲ɑ𝗋𝐧ⅈ𝘯ｇ

The dining room was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, casting dancing shadows across an elegantly set table meant for two. Y/N sat alone, staring at the untouched place setting across from her. The carefully prepared Christmas Eve dinner was growing cold, much like the ache in her chest.

She glanced at her phone for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. No messages, no calls from Jonathan. The clock on the wall ticked past 8 PM, each sound a reminder of another moment spent in solitude on what should have been a special night.

With trembling fingers, she dialled his number again. As expected, it went straight to voicemail. Taking a deep breath to steady her voice, she began to speak:

"Jonathan, it's me again. I... I know your work is important, but it's Christmas Eve. The dinner I made is getting cold, and honestly, so am I. Please come home. We barely see each other anymore, and I miss you. I miss us."

She ended the call and brushed away an errant tear. Two more voicemails followed over the next hour, each one carrying more weight of disappointment than the last. The final message was barely more than a whisper:

"I don't know why I'm even leaving another message. Maybe I'm just talking to myself at this point. But Jonathan... if you hear this... I love you. I just wish that was enough sometimes."

__

Meanwhile, in his dimly lit office at Arkham Asylum, Dr. Jonathan Crane sat hunched over his desk, surrounded by research papers and chemical formulas. The soft glow of his desk lamp illuminated his sharp features as he scribbled notes about his latest fear toxin experiments. The building was eerily quiet, most staff having left hours ago to be with their families.

His phone lay face-down on the corner of his desk, ignored until now. As he reached for another file, his hand knocked it over, and the screen lit up with the notifications. Four missed calls. Four voicemails. All from Y/N.

Something unfamiliar stirred in his chest as he picked up the phone. Guilt? Regret? Emotions he usually kept carefully controlled began to surface as he listened to each message, hearing the progression from hope to disappointment to resignation in his wife's voice.

The final message hit him like a physical blow. "I love you. I just wish that was enough sometimes."

Jonathan removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, an unexpected wave of emotion washing over him. For all his brilliant understanding of fear and the human psyche, he had been blind to the fear he was creating in his own home – the fear of abandonment, of being second-best to his work, of losing the connection they once shared.

Without another thought about the experiments waiting on his desk, he gathered his coat and briefcase. The winter air bit at his face as he left Arkham, but he had one more stop to make before heading home.

The luxury chocolate shop was about to close when he arrived, but the clerk's irritation at the late customer melted away at the size of Jonathan's purchase. He selected an elegant box of hand-crafted truffles – Y/N's favourites – along with a selection of other confections she had mentioned wanting to try.

When he finally arrived home, the house was mostly dark, save for a single light in the dining room. The sight of the carefully prepared dinner, now cold and untouched, made his chest tighten. Y/N sat curled up in an armchair in the living room, her evening dress wrinkled, makeup slightly smeared from wiped-away tears.

She looked up as he entered, surprise and lingering hurt visible in her eyes. "You actually came home," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of disbelief.