Like just about anywhere on Earth, a lot of the rhythm in Gotham was ruled by the seasons. In summer, there was the laughing with the boys and kissing all the girls, naturally. There was also a general mayhem rather than it being dominated by any one rogue. Joker had Christmas locked down, Jervis had commandeered Easter long ago, Edward had been contemplating doing something with St. Patrick's Day for years and so far only done a James Joyce themed deadly quiz night once.
Halloween, however? Halloween was all Jonathan Crane's. They all knew that. Typically the first signs that Edward noticed started in late August and this year it had been especially bad, so he had made himself scarce and avoided the good doctor, going so far as to essentially set himself up with a riddle that was admittedly not his best work to handily be locked away in Arkham by mid-October.
He had still followed the events, police radio and all, and evidently it was a smashing success, at least he assumed Jonathan would see it that way. He watched him be brought in on November 1st, strapped into a straight-jacket and barely coherent, and decided to give him a few more days to cool off.
Then, at long last, he broke out of his cell - if it could even be called breaking - in the middle of the night and made his way to solitary confinement. For Edward, solitary was a nightmare, which was probably why once upon a time Jonathan had prescribed it for him an undue amount. In contrast, Jonathan enjoyed solitary - perhaps a little too much sometimes. Edward felt it was only wise to break up that monotony with a little visit. He got into the cell easily enough and turned the light on, then leaned back against the door to look at Jonathan.
"Evening, Dr Crane. How are we feeling tonight, hm?"
Jonathan looked at Edward and frowned slightly as he tried to make his eyes focus on what sounded like Edward but didn't look like Edward. The room was dark, the walls were rotten and crawling with insects and there was an uncertain creeping feeling above his head. Bats. Had to be bats. He could see them, he could feel them and they wouldn't stop moving around him. Every nerve was set on edge and he wanted to find a way to both escape it and accept it at the same time.
He wanted to lose himself in that hysterical feeling of fear but at the same time, he kept trying to crawl away from it. Sanity was a virtue.
"There's too many bats. In the room. They won't stop-- when did we get bats? I can't stand them." Jonathan cursed through gritted teeth and wriggled insistently against his confinement, looking at Edward's shoes but not Edward. It seemed wrong to look at Edward like this - it wasn't right.
"You're sorry about the bugs in my skin? Don't be. I don't suppose it is your fault." In a roundabout way, maybe. Edward shrugged, deciding that it was best to not even play with the idea of freeing Jonathan from that straight-jacket. He might be thin as a rake, but he was a wiry son of a bitch. Packed quite the wallop when he went for it and he didn't fancy a fight against a crazed Scarecrow.
"There's no bats in the room, Scarecrow." Seemed more appropriate to address him like that at the moment. "In your belfry, that is another matter. But in here, no, not so much. Just your mind playing fear toxin induced tricks on you. Nasty stuff, isn't it?"
Edward was sadistic enough that there was just a little bit of satisfaction to see Jonathan deal with the effects of the toxin. He felt that was fair enough, given how often he had served as an unwilling lab rat. "I've found it helps to focus on reciting facts. Try the elemental table, you're familiar enough with that."
"I was hoping to share but you were hiding. You missed out, it's my best one yet." Jonathan both adored how powerful it was and loathed himself for doing this to his own mind. It was difficult but it was a success. He giggled and grinned, tilting his head up to look at the wall behind Edward. "I never see you during Halloween. Did you notice that? Tricky Eddie. Always hiding."
Always in Arkham for the time. Truly, they must have had trust issues.
Jonathan yearned to stretch out of the straight jacket, get up and get moving but he had a feeling that Edward was not feeling like assisting. Typical. "I wonder what you'd see, if you had this one? Just a dash of it. Fear does change over time. Mine used to be basements and birds, now it's bats and monsters." So how exactly did it evolve for Edward? He really wished he had known. "It only takes a small spray. The red hood made me drink a whole bottle."
He looked up at Edward properly now and it was obvious he was away from reality just from looking at him. His pupils were pinpricks, his eyes had no focus and the bags under his eyes were dark black. "I'm buzzing."
"Ahh, the Red Hood got to you." That answered that particular riddle, not that it was a particularly surprising twist. Jonathan had been brought in by the Bat, no doubt, but he looked a bit too bad for wear for it to be just that. "Anyway, I've not been hiding. I', a victim of a corrupt justice system."
In some ways, anyway. "I'll have to see my attorney over it." He pushed away from the door to step closer to Jonathan, finally crouching down on the floor just a step or two away from him. Damn, he was flying high. Surprising that he was even coherent.
"I don't know what I'd see these days," Edward admitted freely, even though he felt less curiosity than Jonathan to explore it, "Perhaps the same old. You like to tease me about it. Just the same old daddy issues. Weakness. Failure. Loneliness."
What else was he afraid of? A lot more than he ever wanted to delve into. "Did you drink any liquid, Jon? I should get you a glass of water."
"I think you're afraid of death above all else. Then you don't matter. You're nothing. The end is the end." Jonathan mumbled as he tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling with a sceptical frown. "There's bats. I hear the bats. They're swarming. Swarming. Oh God."
Jonathan's voice broke a little and he ducked his head and closed his eyes, just breathing his way through the current wave of panic. He couldn't remember the last time he drank anything - except the toxin, of course.
"3-quinuclidinyl benzilate, dihydroxyphenylalanine and corticotropin." Jonathan told Edward very seriously. "Too much, far too much dihydroxyphenylalanine. I can't think."
"As if you'd be doing anything other than manically scribbling your damn formula anywhere you could if you knew your end was nigh, you egomaniac eccentric. Who isn't scared of the end?" Edward watched him as he panicked, feeling a whole mix of emotions that was difficult to discern. He was concerned, there was that. He also had some rather sinister - albeit supervillain-appropriate - thoughts of holding Jonathan down to be the one he looked at fearfully just once.
"Those are all at least partially water-soluble." Edward was no chemist, but one didn't spend this much time around the likes of Jonathan and Joker without picking up a thing or two. "Some dihydrogen oxide won't hurt." Might help, however.
He moved forward, grabbing a hold of the front of Jonathan's jacket and trying to hold him still. "Focus on me, Jonathan. Scarecrow, I want you to pay attention to me."
Jonathan was looking around the room at the imaginary monsters and bats, his brain elsewhere than focusing on Edward. Then he felt the man take hold of him and it took all of his will to focus on Edward. To look at Edward and see him as there and a person, not just merging in with all of the distorted noise around him. Edward was rotten. It wasn't right, Edward shouldn't be. He was always pristine.
"You always want attention."
Jonathan smiled, like he was there and could be there, even if he was clearly only on the fringe of lucidness. Enough to tease, at least. He tried to look at Edward but he turned away from him again when it got too much. "Norepinephrine?"
"Is that what we are using for communication now? Chemist's code? It's lab monkey work, you know? Chemistry. Always thought that. It can be rather useful, mind, but still. Not much art to it." At least to the precise approach. He supposed the Joker made it a bit of an artform. A deadly art, but still.
"Why shouldn't I always want attention? Everyone tells me it's a sickness, I consider it a logical consequence of having any kind of awareness and being me. Why would I not want people to witness my genius?" Seemed as if he'd be depriving them if he didn't demand focus. "Anyway, you like it. You like giving me attention. You enjoy the results it can get you. Shall I use the language you understand?"
He ran his fingers through Jonathan's hair, combing back the dark strands that stuck to his forehead. He looked into his eyes, drowning in the true blue. "It's no longer just dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin, is it?"
Pulling on his hair, he forced Jonathan to lean his head back, chuckling. "Oxytocin and vasopressin, because you've grown attached by now. Does that ever scare you, Doctor Crane? I wonder."
He doubted that Jonathan was lucid enough to engage much with it right now, but at least he was looking at him. "You like me. Scary stuff."
"Pair-bonding is a side effect." Jon mused aloud as he tried his best to follow what Edward was saying. "Social. Love. It's love. Love is -- the hormone. It's chemistry." Jon found it very amusing and let out a strange little laugh as he inhaled deeply, needed more air to keep going. He was panicking so much, he felt his throat close up so he had to keep pushing himself through.
"I'm in cognitive decline. Oxytocin is good." Jonathan found Edward in front of him, finally, focusing in on him with a small smile. More genuine than the crazy little grins from before. There was almost a relief there.
After all, Edward was special. In ways he hated to admit, he liked the arrogant bastard. "There you are. Oxytocin. Vasopressin. No maggots."
"I should hope not. That's not my style. Turns out that you like your men dapper, you raggedy man, who'd have thought?" Quite the departure for that smelly barn boy. Edward leaned forward to press his lips against Jonathan's neck. Something to be said for the smell and taste of fear after all, maybe he'd have to concede Jonathan's point there.
"Are you clinging to sanity by clinging to me?" That was funny, he had to admit. He laughed as he rested his chin on Jonathan's shoulder. Then he shifted suddenly, following a whim. A whim that had him straddle Jonathan, both arms around him now. Oxytocin. "How much do you want what only I can give you, Jonny? Come on. Tell me. Let me know."
"Mustn't talk." Jonathan wisely informed Edward as the other straddled him, hissing in fear that slowly turned into a low whine as he swore bats swarmed near his head. With Edward there, he shot forward and pressed his forehead against him. Oxytocin. It was good for fear, it reduced panic and anxiety. It was not weak, it was clever. He was clever. "About you. Never. Too many. I-I-I ... my bike broke. On the hill."
Jonathan distracted his mind, eyes struggling to focus on Edward. He was desperate to say anything and think anything about what he wanted from Edward. How much he wanted him and needed him. It seemed entirely unfair that he should talk about that and not whatever else he could kill time with. "It's dark, isn't it?"
"Not that dark in here, my Jonny. I turned on the light. I'm gifted that way." Quite the skilled move. He did have to override some protocol to actually get light in a cell past lights out, although it wasn't exactly a challenge. "Wow, the bike story? You're really proving that avoidant part of your personality disorder, aren't you? I've got nothing to do with your bike, Jonny. I'm here right now. You're in my arms. Why not talk about that?"
This was delicious. Already he was getting things out of Jonathan he never would normally. The raw emotion just from looking at him right now... He laughed again, then traced his face with a finger. "How scared are you to admit that you need me? Not just want. How terrifying. What a nightmare love is, eh? Do you wonder in your black little heart of hearts if you mean as much to me?"
"No wondering. Just knowing. Only the one who does not question is safe from making a mistake." To question was to take the tentative sandcastle and batter it with a tide. Too many emotions, too many feelings, too much panic. He hadn't felt anxiety like this in his adult like, it was practically choking him. He shuddered and trembled in ways he didn't want to and the only thing anchoring him to reality was Edward. "My bike broke on the hill. I really liked my bike."
He laughed nervously and inhaled the smell of Edward. Even in Arkham, he smelled like Edward - it was this scent that lay beneath the shower gel and aftershave. Salty, musky, human and fucking divine. "I'm terrified." Jon admitted as he forced his eyes to focus on Edward and look into his. "I really hate being lied to."
"Of course you do. It's a shame, because... You know, I'm afraid of being called a liar, but I rather enjoy getting away with a lie." Might as well be honest in that right now. He smiled and moved his hand to play with Jonathan's hair. He liked it the way it was right now. A bit more grown out than he'd usually let it. A mess too, naturally. It'd be better once he'd been forced to shower. But it looked good on him, just as his eyes were even more hypnotic like this. A beautiful mess, his Jonathan.
"Emotions aren't straight-forward. Especially not with me. You know that. You've diagnosed me." So here he was, eager for recognition, attention and affection. All those things that Jonathan teased him over. Yet here Jonathan was, knowing him and focusing on him to pull himself out of the whirlwind of his own psyche because of how much he cared for him. "Tell me how you feel, Jon." He leaned forward so he could speak by Jonathan's ear. "Tell me you love me and then I'll do and say all those things you need from me. Lie or not. What does it matter when I make it feel so real for you?"
"Cause it fucking matters to me." Jonathan admitted pathetically, knowing he was being a fool but he couldn't help himself. He usually had everything so tightly held in and under control but he couldn't keep focus today, he couldn't keep himself safe. All the emotions were out and open, lost in his own fear. He didn't miss that part about fear - it made one very vulnerable. "It matters to me if you fucking care or if it's all bullshit, son. If it's love or it ain't! I fucking care. I care! I don't know why, I just do. I want you!"
Jonathan froze for a moment and everything in his brain was desperately seeking a retreat because he knew, on a logical level, that he was embarrassing himself but he had no ability to turn it off and stop himself. He took a deep breath. "Handsome boy. Smart boy. Lives in my head. I can't escape it but he can? That ain't fair, it ain't fucking fair, son."
That was a lot. Edward was trying to not show his glee to openly. He had no way of knowing how much of this Jonathan would remember later. His own memory tended to be hazy after exposure to fear toxin, but certain details stuck and usually he remembered more eventually, as anxiety attacks hit as an aftereffect. Nasty stuff, fear toxin. Made it easy to remember that Jonathan deserved this. Also made it easy to remember that he didn't want to antagonise him too much.
It was so satisfying though, how could he not feel smug over exposing Jonathan like this? Dragging him out into the light and making him squirm. He kissed the side of his neck again, then left a trail of kissed along his jaw before he pulled back to look at him. "You're such a conundrum, you beautiful bastard. I can't help but adore you." He rather thought he loved him. Jon's own fault for diagnosing him in a way that meant he couldn't believe that love was true. Honestly seemed more an issue caused by Jonathan's insecurities than his own shortcomings.
"Let me love you." His hand moved quickly, between them and between the straps holding Jonathan's jacket down, so he could run his palm over his crotch. "Nice. Is that hardness for me or for fear? Or maybe that's all the same right now."
"Blood rush." Jonathan dismissed as the walls cracked around him and the floor started melting. It was like a gross puddle of grey and he could drown any moment. The more lucid part of him wanted to drown right there and then. This was humiliating, he had enough awareness to know he was making a fool of himself. "You're laughing at me."
Jonathan looked at Edward and there was pain there. Pain, lust, wanting. So many feelings. "Aren't you?" The uncertainty made his voice crack in a way he wouldn't under any other circumstances. He was never one to be weak around Edward - it seemed like a very dangerous thing to do. "Please don't."
"I'm not laughing." Not right this moment, anyway. Although it was also not so funny now, when looking into Jonathan's eyes and his own heart was hurting somehow. Emotions always got the better of him sooner or later, something that often greatly annoyed him about himself. It was better than indifference though, feeling too much. Better than feeling nothing.
"I can't feel sorry for hurting you. I love that I can. See? No lying." It was proof of how much he meant to someone so little else meant anything to. Of course he loved it. "And you do matter to me, Jon. I care." He shrugged. "Making use of feelings does not mean those feelings aren't real. You understand that. Oxytocin, my beloved. Are you enjoying it?"
Instead of saying anything else, he leaned forward and kissed him.
The kiss was nice and Jonathan let himself fall into it, chasing after the feeling with an adrenaline spike right through him. He pulled back and he could still tasted Edward on his lips. "Oxytocin. I have been deprived. Oxytocin. Vasopressin." His dick was hard, his heart was racing and Edward was the only safe thing. The feel of him, the scent, the warmth. His whole body shivered.
"You want to be worshiped. Narcissist. Egotist." He giggled and tilted his head back, grinning. "Lucky day. Lucky boy. Dream boy. I think I made you exist just for me." And wasn't that an amazing power. His teenage daydream was a person. A very annoying, too powerful person who he would definitely need to have revenge on.
Ah well. Later. For now, he kissed him again, chasing after that beautiful sensation.
Oh, he was storing a lot of that information away for later. What a marvellous stash of confirmations and new discoveries he had there. Edward made sure to commit it all to memory, to properly analyse it later, because right now was the time to feel more so than think. Not that he could ever entirely shut off his brain.
Even as he kissed back and kept kissing Jonathan, giving him the sensations he needed to counterbalance that toxic cocktail still coursing through him.
In the end he stayed longer than he probably should have, especially with Bolton as head of security, but it was difficult to tear himself away. He whispered words to Jonathan before leaving him, sweet nothings and promises that might be empty or might not be. Then he had to go, both their pants stickier than they ought to be, and Edward's heart beating up to his throat from the high of arousal and affirmation and the dim fear of retribution. It never got boring, being him.
Leisure time in Arkham Asylum at the security level of any of the big time rogues was by necessity rather dire as far as different forms of entertainment were concerned. Edward wasn't considered a big risk in terms of violence and brute strength, but his towering intellect was a force to be reckoned with. At least that was how Edward preferred to think about it, rather than conceding the point that they had begun withholding Clue, Mastermind, Connect Four and most other intellectually stimulating games solely due to Edwards two interjoined bad habits of winning and gloating.
It meant that the only games they had were purely luck based. When the Joker was locked away securely, they also had cards, but no one ever wanted to play cards with Edward. No one ever really wanted to play with Edward, which he couldn't understand. If he was them, he'd be grateful for the privilege of watching a master at play - literally.
There were other inmates around, but generally no one dared approach the big names and, as if this was high school and they were the popular kids, that meant they got the sofas. Regardless of a vast majority of them having once been the kids to get stuffed into lockers.
"How are the new meds, Jervis?" No clarity or awareness in those eyes, although that didn't mean much. Edward let himself fall onto the cushion next to his much shorter erstwhile and current colleague, propping his elbow onto his shoulder. "Did I miss anything fun?"
"Harvey was complaining about missing his show," Pamela informed him, while tending to a small leaf on her forearm, "Because we have no other concerns with our planet being on fire."
"For shame, Harvey," Edward scolded him playfully, "What show? I can make sure it's recorded for you."
"I mean, me missing my show is something we can do something about, Pam. Your issue is just impossible bullshit. No one is gonna give up their cars and holidays for nature. Someone might be able to find my show." Harvey made clear as he looked at Edward and then nodded in his direction. "Point in case. Tres Destinos, I'm definitely gonna miss it. The TV is banned because of the Harley incident."
And hence, they were all suffering quiet time and 'group bonding'. Which was the worst.
Harvey looked at Jervis and then pulled a face and looked away. "He freaks me out like that. Put something over him." Jervis was weird all the time but when he had these weird manic states, it was creepy. It was like Jervis froze for a while, loading up all of his crazy for the next big explosion. "He's not done loading."
"I'll make sure your stories are ready for you whenever you're next out. Tres Destinos." Ah, quality television as usual. How he adored that simple-minded, double-minded attorney. "You have my word."
"I'd not want to watch that mindless drivel anyway," Pamela added helpfully, while another leaf was slowly coaxed out, "Harvey has a point about the tiny creep though. Cover him with something."
"Oh, certainly. Which one of you two is going to take their top off for the purpose?" Edward reached over to cover Jervis's eyes temporarily, just to see whether he'd react.
"I would but I don't want my stuff touching his face." Harvey admitted as he flipped his coin up and down idly, watching as Edward tested Jervis. With hands over his eyes, Jervis made a strange squeak and reeled back.
"Dormouse!"
"He lives." Harvey caught his coin and then started to move it between his fingers. "See, no one had to take off their shirt for it. Though, I think if Pam took hers off, Jervis' brain would explode."
Edward let go of Jervis, rubbing his hand off on his pants and leaning back. "Should I be flattered that you recognised me just by feeling my hand?" Perhaps that was something to be concerned over. "Good morning, Jervis. The lovely Pamela here was just about to strip off her top for you, it's a shame you are already lucid."
"In his dreams, the little creep," Pamela commented, not wanting to encourage Jervis by addressing him directly.
"Oh, without a doubt. Though I think even then he's more likely to wet his bed then have a wet dream. Those damn puberty blockers, eh?" He chuckled and then surveyed the room, mostly looking for any entertainment that was available. "Are the clowns all still banned? Harley incident?" What wide reaching consequences. "Neither of the Joker's paramours around, suddenly it's so blissfully quiet."
"As far as I know, the Joker isn't allowed in because... well, he's the Joker. His baes are banned too. Not forever but I say we enjoy the silence." Harvey admitted as he leaned his head back and looked up at the dirty, stained ceiling. It almost looked like there was a fucking coffee cup stain on the ceiling. How?
"So much blood. So much glitter." Jervis remarked as he thought of the Harley incident.
"Is Crane still in solitary?" He knew they caught the Scarecrow a couple of days ago. He had heard him screaming about being the God of fear the whole way down the hall. "Sounds like someone snorted his own scary juices." He tilted his head to the side and then looked at Pamela. "Huh. Can you like... pheromone yourself? Get all horny for you-time?"
"Ugh. Men." Pamela rolled her eyes, which Edward did think was unfortunately a rather attractive look on her. He was hiding his grin behind his hand so it wouldn't be too obvious. "Must you always think with your other head?"
"At least that one is always of just one mind," Edward added helpfully, "Anyway, you know that Pamela's powers have far more application beyond-- that."
"I don't need to dope myself to get it going, Harvey. What about you? Getting soft in your old age?" Pamela asked it sweetly and Edward reached out to waft his hands in the air to disperse any potential pheromones.
"Jonathan is still in solitary, yes. I've been to see him and I think I've calmed him a little. I'm certain he'll join us soon."
"Does a conjugal visit help against fear toxin?" Really not that intriguing a question, but Pamela had to needle a little. "It's sweet that you take such care of your boyfriend, Edward, after you've hidden out from him in the asylum for almost a month. A truly toxic relationship."
"I wasn't hiding and he's not my boyfriend, but sure. I'm sweet." Whatever. "Adorable."
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icebergloungers2024-05-01 08:46 pm
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Halloween, however? Halloween was all Jonathan Crane's. They all knew that. Typically the first signs that Edward noticed started in late August and this year it had been especially bad, so he had made himself scarce and avoided the good doctor, going so far as to essentially set himself up with a riddle that was admittedly not his best work to handily be locked away in Arkham by mid-October.
He had still followed the events, police radio and all, and evidently it was a smashing success, at least he assumed Jonathan would see it that way. He watched him be brought in on November 1st, strapped into a straight-jacket and barely coherent, and decided to give him a few more days to cool off.
Then, at long last, he broke out of his cell - if it could even be called breaking - in the middle of the night and made his way to solitary confinement. For Edward, solitary was a nightmare, which was probably why once upon a time Jonathan had prescribed it for him an undue amount. In contrast, Jonathan enjoyed solitary - perhaps a little too much sometimes. Edward felt it was only wise to break up that monotony with a little visit. He got into the cell easily enough and turned the light on, then leaned back against the door to look at Jonathan.
"Evening, Dr Crane. How are we feeling tonight, hm?"
no subject
He wanted to lose himself in that hysterical feeling of fear but at the same time, he kept trying to crawl away from it. Sanity was a virtue.
"There's too many bats. In the room. They won't stop-- when did we get bats? I can't stand them." Jonathan cursed through gritted teeth and wriggled insistently against his confinement, looking at Edward's shoes but not Edward. It seemed wrong to look at Edward like this - it wasn't right.
"There's bugs in your skin... I'm sorry."
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"There's no bats in the room, Scarecrow." Seemed more appropriate to address him like that at the moment. "In your belfry, that is another matter. But in here, no, not so much. Just your mind playing fear toxin induced tricks on you. Nasty stuff, isn't it?"
Edward was sadistic enough that there was just a little bit of satisfaction to see Jonathan deal with the effects of the toxin. He felt that was fair enough, given how often he had served as an unwilling lab rat. "I've found it helps to focus on reciting facts. Try the elemental table, you're familiar enough with that."
no subject
Always in Arkham for the time. Truly, they must have had trust issues.
Jonathan yearned to stretch out of the straight jacket, get up and get moving but he had a feeling that Edward was not feeling like assisting. Typical. "I wonder what you'd see, if you had this one? Just a dash of it. Fear does change over time. Mine used to be basements and birds, now it's bats and monsters." So how exactly did it evolve for Edward? He really wished he had known. "It only takes a small spray. The red hood made me drink a whole bottle."
He looked up at Edward properly now and it was obvious he was away from reality just from looking at him. His pupils were pinpricks, his eyes had no focus and the bags under his eyes were dark black. "I'm buzzing."
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In some ways, anyway. "I'll have to see my attorney over it." He pushed away from the door to step closer to Jonathan, finally crouching down on the floor just a step or two away from him. Damn, he was flying high. Surprising that he was even coherent.
"I don't know what I'd see these days," Edward admitted freely, even though he felt less curiosity than Jonathan to explore it, "Perhaps the same old. You like to tease me about it. Just the same old daddy issues. Weakness. Failure. Loneliness."
What else was he afraid of? A lot more than he ever wanted to delve into. "Did you drink any liquid, Jon? I should get you a glass of water."
no subject
Jonathan's voice broke a little and he ducked his head and closed his eyes, just breathing his way through the current wave of panic. He couldn't remember the last time he drank anything - except the toxin, of course.
"3-quinuclidinyl benzilate, dihydroxyphenylalanine and corticotropin." Jonathan told Edward very seriously. "Too much, far too much dihydroxyphenylalanine. I can't think."
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"Those are all at least partially water-soluble." Edward was no chemist, but one didn't spend this much time around the likes of Jonathan and Joker without picking up a thing or two. "Some dihydrogen oxide won't hurt." Might help, however.
He moved forward, grabbing a hold of the front of Jonathan's jacket and trying to hold him still. "Focus on me, Jonathan. Scarecrow, I want you to pay attention to me."
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"You always want attention."
Jonathan smiled, like he was there and could be there, even if he was clearly only on the fringe of lucidness. Enough to tease, at least. He tried to look at Edward but he turned away from him again when it got too much. "Norepinephrine?"
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"Why shouldn't I always want attention? Everyone tells me it's a sickness, I consider it a logical consequence of having any kind of awareness and being me. Why would I not want people to witness my genius?" Seemed as if he'd be depriving them if he didn't demand focus. "Anyway, you like it. You like giving me attention. You enjoy the results it can get you. Shall I use the language you understand?"
He ran his fingers through Jonathan's hair, combing back the dark strands that stuck to his forehead. He looked into his eyes, drowning in the true blue. "It's no longer just dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin, is it?"
Pulling on his hair, he forced Jonathan to lean his head back, chuckling. "Oxytocin and vasopressin, because you've grown attached by now. Does that ever scare you, Doctor Crane? I wonder."
He doubted that Jonathan was lucid enough to engage much with it right now, but at least he was looking at him. "You like me. Scary stuff."
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"I'm in cognitive decline. Oxytocin is good." Jonathan found Edward in front of him, finally, focusing in on him with a small smile. More genuine than the crazy little grins from before. There was almost a relief there.
After all, Edward was special. In ways he hated to admit, he liked the arrogant bastard. "There you are. Oxytocin. Vasopressin. No maggots."
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"Are you clinging to sanity by clinging to me?" That was funny, he had to admit. He laughed as he rested his chin on Jonathan's shoulder. Then he shifted suddenly, following a whim. A whim that had him straddle Jonathan, both arms around him now. Oxytocin. "How much do you want what only I can give you, Jonny? Come on. Tell me. Let me know."
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Jonathan distracted his mind, eyes struggling to focus on Edward. He was desperate to say anything and think anything about what he wanted from Edward. How much he wanted him and needed him. It seemed entirely unfair that he should talk about that and not whatever else he could kill time with. "It's dark, isn't it?"
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This was delicious. Already he was getting things out of Jonathan he never would normally. The raw emotion just from looking at him right now... He laughed again, then traced his face with a finger. "How scared are you to admit that you need me? Not just want. How terrifying. What a nightmare love is, eh? Do you wonder in your black little heart of hearts if you mean as much to me?"
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He laughed nervously and inhaled the smell of Edward. Even in Arkham, he smelled like Edward - it was this scent that lay beneath the shower gel and aftershave. Salty, musky, human and fucking divine. "I'm terrified." Jon admitted as he forced his eyes to focus on Edward and look into his. "I really hate being lied to."
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"Emotions aren't straight-forward. Especially not with me. You know that. You've diagnosed me." So here he was, eager for recognition, attention and affection. All those things that Jonathan teased him over. Yet here Jonathan was, knowing him and focusing on him to pull himself out of the whirlwind of his own psyche because of how much he cared for him. "Tell me how you feel, Jon." He leaned forward so he could speak by Jonathan's ear. "Tell me you love me and then I'll do and say all those things you need from me. Lie or not. What does it matter when I make it feel so real for you?"
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Jonathan froze for a moment and everything in his brain was desperately seeking a retreat because he knew, on a logical level, that he was embarrassing himself but he had no ability to turn it off and stop himself. He took a deep breath. "Handsome boy. Smart boy. Lives in my head. I can't escape it but he can? That ain't fair, it ain't fucking fair, son."
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It was so satisfying though, how could he not feel smug over exposing Jonathan like this? Dragging him out into the light and making him squirm. He kissed the side of his neck again, then left a trail of kissed along his jaw before he pulled back to look at him. "You're such a conundrum, you beautiful bastard. I can't help but adore you." He rather thought he loved him. Jon's own fault for diagnosing him in a way that meant he couldn't believe that love was true. Honestly seemed more an issue caused by Jonathan's insecurities than his own shortcomings.
"Let me love you." His hand moved quickly, between them and between the straps holding Jonathan's jacket down, so he could run his palm over his crotch. "Nice. Is that hardness for me or for fear? Or maybe that's all the same right now."
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Jonathan looked at Edward and there was pain there. Pain, lust, wanting. So many feelings. "Aren't you?" The uncertainty made his voice crack in a way he wouldn't under any other circumstances. He was never one to be weak around Edward - it seemed like a very dangerous thing to do. "Please don't."
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"I can't feel sorry for hurting you. I love that I can. See? No lying." It was proof of how much he meant to someone so little else meant anything to. Of course he loved it. "And you do matter to me, Jon. I care." He shrugged. "Making use of feelings does not mean those feelings aren't real. You understand that. Oxytocin, my beloved. Are you enjoying it?"
Instead of saying anything else, he leaned forward and kissed him.
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"You want to be worshiped. Narcissist. Egotist." He giggled and tilted his head back, grinning. "Lucky day. Lucky boy. Dream boy. I think I made you exist just for me." And wasn't that an amazing power. His teenage daydream was a person. A very annoying, too powerful person who he would definitely need to have revenge on.
Ah well. Later. For now, he kissed him again, chasing after that beautiful sensation.
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Even as he kissed back and kept kissing Jonathan, giving him the sensations he needed to counterbalance that toxic cocktail still coursing through him.
In the end he stayed longer than he probably should have, especially with Bolton as head of security, but it was difficult to tear himself away. He whispered words to Jonathan before leaving him, sweet nothings and promises that might be empty or might not be. Then he had to go, both their pants stickier than they ought to be, and Edward's heart beating up to his throat from the high of arousal and affirmation and the dim fear of retribution. It never got boring, being him.
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It meant that the only games they had were purely luck based. When the Joker was locked away securely, they also had cards, but no one ever wanted to play cards with Edward. No one ever really wanted to play with Edward, which he couldn't understand. If he was them, he'd be grateful for the privilege of watching a master at play - literally.
There were other inmates around, but generally no one dared approach the big names and, as if this was high school and they were the popular kids, that meant they got the sofas. Regardless of a vast majority of them having once been the kids to get stuffed into lockers.
"How are the new meds, Jervis?" No clarity or awareness in those eyes, although that didn't mean much. Edward let himself fall onto the cushion next to his much shorter erstwhile and current colleague, propping his elbow onto his shoulder. "Did I miss anything fun?"
"Harvey was complaining about missing his show," Pamela informed him, while tending to a small leaf on her forearm, "Because we have no other concerns with our planet being on fire."
"For shame, Harvey," Edward scolded him playfully, "What show? I can make sure it's recorded for you."
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And hence, they were all suffering quiet time and 'group bonding'. Which was the worst.
Harvey looked at Jervis and then pulled a face and looked away. "He freaks me out like that. Put something over him." Jervis was weird all the time but when he had these weird manic states, it was creepy. It was like Jervis froze for a while, loading up all of his crazy for the next big explosion. "He's not done loading."
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"I'd not want to watch that mindless drivel anyway," Pamela added helpfully, while another leaf was slowly coaxed out, "Harvey has a point about the tiny creep though. Cover him with something."
"Oh, certainly. Which one of you two is going to take their top off for the purpose?" Edward reached over to cover Jervis's eyes temporarily, just to see whether he'd react.
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"Dormouse!"
"He lives." Harvey caught his coin and then started to move it between his fingers. "See, no one had to take off their shirt for it. Though, I think if Pam took hers off, Jervis' brain would explode."
"Who? What? Where?!"
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"In his dreams, the little creep," Pamela commented, not wanting to encourage Jervis by addressing him directly.
"Oh, without a doubt. Though I think even then he's more likely to wet his bed then have a wet dream. Those damn puberty blockers, eh?" He chuckled and then surveyed the room, mostly looking for any entertainment that was available. "Are the clowns all still banned? Harley incident?" What wide reaching consequences. "Neither of the Joker's paramours around, suddenly it's so blissfully quiet."
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"So much blood. So much glitter." Jervis remarked as he thought of the Harley incident.
"Is Crane still in solitary?" He knew they caught the Scarecrow a couple of days ago. He had heard him screaming about being the God of fear the whole way down the hall. "Sounds like someone snorted his own scary juices." He tilted his head to the side and then looked at Pamela. "Huh. Can you like... pheromone yourself? Get all horny for you-time?"
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"At least that one is always of just one mind," Edward added helpfully, "Anyway, you know that Pamela's powers have far more application beyond-- that."
"I don't need to dope myself to get it going, Harvey. What about you? Getting soft in your old age?" Pamela asked it sweetly and Edward reached out to waft his hands in the air to disperse any potential pheromones.
"Jonathan is still in solitary, yes. I've been to see him and I think I've calmed him a little. I'm certain he'll join us soon."
"Does a conjugal visit help against fear toxin?" Really not that intriguing a question, but Pamela had to needle a little. "It's sweet that you take such care of your boyfriend, Edward, after you've hidden out from him in the asylum for almost a month. A truly toxic relationship."
"I wasn't hiding and he's not my boyfriend, but sure. I'm sweet." Whatever. "Adorable."