My Fear For You [VerMillion]

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

It was over…Finally. What he had planned to do was over. It had turned out nothing like how he wanted. In the end there was only the body that he had produced as hostage in the other room. She would be useful eventually. His creation had worked out perfectly, but not with what it was designed to do. He had gotten exactly what he wanted out of it, but not what he wanted from it. Instead the outcome left him emptier handed than before.

And now there was VerMillion to deal with.

There would be a lot going through her mind, of this he was sure. She saw him work in a very peculiar way that day that wouldn’t have made any sense to her. Even after the experience he had refused to speak to her about it. He was far too caught up in what happened with Dr. Stenet to speak clearly. But now he had cast it from his mind, he had cast the whole incident itself from his mind. It was time to move forward and first it was going to have to start with VerMillion.

Dr. Crane stood up and dusted off his lab coat. He didn’t bother taking it off as he left the lab and made his way toward VerMillion’s small room. It was her own space just like the last time they had a place together. He had his own space but it often ended up being VerMillion’s as well. He was never in there and didn’t mind if she wanted to stay in it. It was a rare occasion that she would find him anywhere but his lab. In the rare event that she did find him asleep it was often in front of or on own his work. He came to her door and knocked firmly.

It wasn’t often that he took the liberty to knock on her door either. They had spouts in the past about privacy and things that she wanted. She was rather needy at times….but he understood that her fear was exceeding what she had. It was difficult to maintain her satisfaction to say the least. But he was doing his best to juggle his work and her. Why he was still keeping her around was a mystery to everyone but him and perhaps her….But they didn’t matter. Let them think what they would about them…Dr. Crane didn’t care.

He stood at the door awkwardly in silence as he waited. She didn’t immediately answer the door. “Miss Glass…. He called out to her through the door. “I want to speak to you…About what you saw the other night…” He tried to explain to her clearly at the door. He knew that she had been distant since the incident anyway and her fear was causing her to react in ways that she didn’t fully understand. He would shed light on it for her…if he could get her to come to the door.

As he stood there he found himself asking why he had done it in front of her in the first place. Obvious he wasn’t afraid of what she would think. It was more that she should know what she is to him and nothing he did beyond that should change the way she felt. Why she did react that way was a perplexing question to him.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Since the whole incident, Heather has hardly left her room. And when she has, it's only been when the whole place was quiet and it was safe to assume that Jon was too focused on whatever to notice. The whole time, she hasn't said a word to him, though she's not sure that he's noticed - it's not like they ever talk much anyway. Usually they don't need to. Now they probably need to, but she definitely doesn't want to.

Maybe if they'd talked immediately after, while she was still more or less in shock, it would have been easier. But Jon had been busy with stuff then, and she's had a chance to think about it. One thing that's abundantly clear is that Jon couldn't possibly care for her - or at least not nearly as strongly or in the way she might have hoped. A thought that had been too horrible for her to consider before, but... well, the evidence was right before her! She can't just dismiss something like that! After having been with him for so long, she thought... well, it doesn't matter what she thought, because she was obviously wrong about him the entire time.

What she should do about it is another question entirely. Her first instinct is to just leave, but before she could complete that rashful thought she realized that she doesn't have anywhere to go. She's burned a lot of bridges since she met Jon, and many of them he burned for her, so she can't think of a single person she could run to. Well, maybe Summer. But just maybe. It was hard to tell just how much Summer was sympathetic to her and just how much thought that she was completely crazy now. And if the cops find her, she'd get sent back to the asylum. Which, unhelpfully, VerMillion thinks is a great idea. But that's the last place that she wants to go. But she also doesn't want to stay here, with Jon just a room or two away...

Fortunately for Jon, that predicament is far too difficult for her to work out quickly, and she's gotten nowhere with it when she hears a knock on the door. And though that's an unusual politeness, she doesn't reward it with a response. Instead she's dead quiet, hoping that he'll assume that she's out and leave her alone. But when he speaks, that hope seems to be pointless, as it seems to indicate that he's aware that she's inside. Still, it takes her a long time to respond, and when she does, she quietly says, "I don't want to talk about it - go away." The sound of her own voice surprises her - she sounds so sad. She should be feeling angry! She thought she was angry, anyway. But then, if she was as angry as she thought that she was, she'd probably be doing more than laying on her bed in fetal position, facing the wall and with her back to the room. Though she's probably some of both of those emotions, and some of others - none of them good. And they're all piled up in her mind in one big suckfest.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Her call finally penetrated the silence and confirmed to him that she was still in fear of what had occurred the other night. If only she would take a moment to see what was going on in front of her and really see it for the first time, she could experience true beauty. She just didn’t understand and he was having difficulty making her understand. How could he teach her if she was so unwilling to listen and learn? This was a prime example as he stood on one side of the door and her still inside probably laying on her bed and now refusing to speak to him.

Though she said that she didn’t want to talk about he knew that wasn’t the case. The night that it happened she looked like she wanted to talk about it right at that moment. So much so, that she kept calling a shortened version of his name out to get his attention. She had pined for his attention and it didn’t go unnoticed. If she thought that she went unnoticed she was wrong.

Socially, Dr. Crane had always struggled and even now after his career had gone well into its peak he still had difficulty with it. It wasn’t something he was afraid of; he just found it impossible and pointless to converse with most people. Most people weren’t capable; they didn’t have the intellectual ability to understand what he did. They didn’t have the background he did, they didn’t grow up like he did and they hadn’t seen what he had. There was no point in trying to make any of them understand all of that.

Edward’s circumstance was a bit different. Though they had never shared backgrounds between each other it wasn’t difficult for Edward to determine what happened once he got a good look at him. It lead Dr. Crane to come to the same conclusion that Edward, himself, had suffered under an oppressor once. But they never spoke about this and there was no reason to. They had both understood and moved from that. This was why Edward was easier to talk to…Was easier to….Or was prone to…

He wiped the thought away and pushed open the door to her room. She was going to have to be forced to understand why she was more difficult. He didn’t want to and it wasn’t going to be easy, but for her to cooperate further it was going to have to be done. He wanted to keep her here and at this rate she wouldn’t stay and there would be plenty willing to take her from him. Dr. Crane immediately grabbed a chair from her desk and pulled it to the side of her bed that she was laying on. He sat in it the wrong way, using the back of the chair to lean against. It was a habit he’d picked up in medical school.

Being as tall as he was his form was able to hang over the back of the chair when he leaned toward her. It created a barrier for her to see between them, what she originally asked for, but with him still being able to directly speak to her. “ I know you don’t want to talk about it…..But I….Do.” He admitted something that might finally get her attention. Whether it did or not he was going to continue. But for the moment he was stuck on her distant appearance on the bed. Her firey hair was swept back and behind her ears. She seemed like she hadn’t slept well….And he made a note to fix that promptly.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Heather isn't really surprised when she hears the door open. Jon may be doing multiple things right now that aren't that usual for him - from actually seeking out a conversation, to knocking on her door - but if he actually left her alone like she told him to when that's not what he wants to do, that would not merely be unusual but would be unlike him completely. Then again, it's actually kind of comforting in a way for him to do something so predictably him right now, even if she really does wish that he'd take no for an answer just this once.

With her back to him, she can't see what he's doing, but she recognizes the sound of her chair being moved and it's not difficult to guess. If he's sitting that means that he's prepared to be here for the long haul if that's what it takes to get what he wants from her. Great. Though what he says does get her attention. Enough that she turns her head just a little so that she can get a glimpse of him in her periphery - as if having to make sure that it is indeed Jon who said that. As she does, he'd be able to see a bit of her face - she's not crying now, but she was and the signs of it are still visible. But she turns back and sighs before she says, "I... don't see the point. It was all pretty clear. It'll just rub it in." A pretty weak protest to the impending chat, but it's all she has to offer. And since this is Jon she's talking to, it's probably a waste of time trying to come up with better ones anyway.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

In the way that she had turned alone he could see that it had affected her greatly. It pushed him to want to understand it more; after all they were both here. Though he wasn’t quite sure why they both were, but she wasn’t allowed to leave, even if she was free to. The rule had always remained that she was free to walk out the door whenever she wanted to, but he had taken care of ever desire that she may have for it. What he had done to whatever life she might have had if she went back was obliterated and after the way she had been seen with him recently, unrepairable. She had no choice, and he knew it.

His left hand pulled up and down as he watched her in silence for a moment. He had to articulate his thoughts to know exactly what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. His hands pulled up and dropped back down at it hung lazily off the back of the chair. His other arm was wrapped around it and his chin rested on the middle of his arm relaxed.

It was easy to tell that she had been crying, but why? Because of what happened was the only answer to that, but what happened was beautiful. It was a recreation of a masterpiece. It was artwork that was perfectly displayed though on all the wrong people. Why couldn’t she see the beauty in it….It was right in front of her the whole time and she had the best seat for all of it. But she acted as if it was nothing, just like the rest of the world.

But she wasn’t like the rest of the world; sometimes she just enjoyed pretending it. Dr. Crane took a deep breath from his lazy position and let it release from his chest before he decided to speak. “You say to me that it was clear…But it doesn’t look very clear when I see you. If it was clear to you then you wouldn’t have been avoiding me for all this time….or rather stayed in your room. I’ll admit that it didn’t exactly happen as planned, but things rarely do. In the end I got what I wanted and yet you still don’t find it a masterpiece….But I remember when you spoke to me then, it was after Edward and I… ”. He paused for a moment and licked his bottom lip to collect his thoughts. He didn’t want to say it in a way that she would take in the wrong direction. She had already made up her mind about so many things between them.”Whatever you believe there to be between him and I, it isn’t there. It simply isn’t that way and it is an impossible thought. You are different from him…completely different…I don’t….want you to sit in here all the time.” He scooted his chair a bit closer and raised his head from his arm to get a better look at her.”You haven’t slept…”

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Unfortunately for Jon, Heather completely failed to appreciate whatever it was that he did to that blonde girl. She might have, at least to some degree, if he hadn't been making out with the Riddler. Though she tries to understand and appreciate what Jon does simply because it matters to him so much, there comes a point where what he cares about takes a back seat to what she cares about, and that was way, way beyond that point. She didn't even really notice his 'masterpiece' - how could she have when her world was falling apart?

As he speaks, somehow her heart manages to sink just a little bit further than it already has - he's clearly confused by her reaction. Which isn't necessarily surprising to her since Jon missing the obvious with her feelings is just what he does, but right now that kind of hurts and she'd really rather not have to explain it to him right now. She'll do it anyway, but why can't he just understand?

She doesn't respond to him at first, not because she has nothing to say, but because she doesn't want to say it and doesn't know how to say it either. "It isn't there..." she quietly echos his words, before saying, "It isn't there. It isn't here either. But... somehow there's a lot more there than there is here anyway. I can't... handle that. I can't. I thought... Doesn't matter. I need to go... somewhere - I don't know. But I can't stay. I can't." She doesn't move as she talks, intentionally keeping her gaze on the bit of her bed directly in front of her so that she doesn't accidentally look at him even as he scoots closer.

But though she'd been certain that she'd run of out tears, another one finds it's way from her eye to her cheek. "It hurts too much..." she says, closing her eyes and wishing Jon would just leave now that she's said it. But he'll probably stay to try to argue that her feelings aren't real again - that will help nothing and probably only make her feel worse. Then again, a tiny part of her is glad that he's at least giving her a chance to try to explain - help give it all some closure before she goes...

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

There weren’t many people that could understand Dr. Crane’s work. The ones that thought they did he worked for and the ones that wanted to he associated occasionally with. Nigma was one of those people that expressed interest in understanding his work on a deeper level. For that reason he believed that he stayed around him more, that and many other reasons. Nigma understood him in ways that she didn’t and only she could change that. There was another barrier that she was fighting that they had never spoken about, but it was another one that Edward didn’t have to climb over. What they had was different, and they both knew it. They also both knew that whatever they had would eventually barrel down into flames, but that was all a part of the thrill.

He tilted his head when she said that it wasn’t with them either. He understood cognitively that what she wanted was interaction and….affection but that wasn’t what she really wanted, it was just what she had been taught to want. What he wanted from her was so much more than just that, but it seemed like she wasn’t able to move passed it until those false needs were met.

He watched the tears come to her eyes and even more confusion raised within him. What was she so afraid of that would make her draw to tears? It wasn’t losing him, he was right here? Was it the fact that a kiss was so important to her that she needed it to survive? It was a stupid thought to comprehend, no one ever died from the lack of a kiss. But she was under the wrong impress all together and that needed to be stopped right away.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He spoke harshly but devoid of weather it was a threat or not. He was simply stating a fact. The door was always opened for her to leave, but she wouldn’t be gone for long. He had assured that she had nothing to leave to. But he was slowly becoming aware of what she needed and he felt, in this room, in this space that they had it was time for him to tell her something. “I don’t engage in those acts for a reason with you, it’s not because of what you think either. You’re so quick to jump to the option that it isn’t there that your blind to the fact that there may be something else in the way and that something isn’t Nigma. I have told you countless times that Nigma was not the reason. Nigma is another matter entirely and it is nothing that you could understand.” he paused and took a deep breath. For the first time his eyes came off of her and went to the ceiling, around and then back to hers again as if his head had just jumbled with thoughts.

“You’re not competing with him…. You can't compete with him. You’re competing with her.” He left it there and halted in his words.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Of course Heather isn't afraid of losing Jon - how can you be afraid of losing something that you're not really sure you ever had to begin with? VerMillion is the one who is confident that he likes them, but she's also the one who questions whether Jon is really worth all the trouble. Heather, on the other hand, is completely sure: Jon is worth everything. If it's even possible that her feelings might be returned, anyway. After what she witness the other day, however, that possibility seems to have dissolved into nothing.

A miserable frown crosses her face as he indicates that he's going to try to keep her here, in spite of what she's trying to tell him. Perhaps this could be counted as the strongest sign yet that he doesn't really care, or how else could he even consider keeping her here when it hurts her so deeply?

Though what he says next certainly catches her attention - though even as he speaks it doesn't fill her with too much hope. After all, if she learned nothing from what she'd so recently witnessed, it's that she's much better off trying to figure out Jon based on his actions and not his words. His words are often confusing and easily misinterpreted, after all, and they've gotten to the point where she just can't handle it all being so unclear anymore - not after having all this suddenly sprung on her.

The real problem in her eyes has nothing to do with the Riddler. She wouldn't care less about whatever Jon does with him, or anyone else for that matter, except that she craves such a bond with Jon for herself so much that to see anyone else seemingly have more of one than she does is simply too much for her. She's not afraid of losing Jon, she's afraid that she doesn't have him in the first place and never will. So as he speaks, what he's describing makes it sound as if he's completely unobtainable - he's always telling her that she doesn't understand or she can't understand, so what on earth is she supposed to do then?

Though her entire train of thought is suddenly interrupted by his last statement. "Her?" she asks instantly, her voice suddenly sounding even more miserable, "'Her' who?" Is there someone else she doesn't know about now? And what vaguely disturbs her is that she can instantly think of three: VerMillion, that little blonde girl in the other room, and that doctor lady she's seen with him twice now. How Jon manages to have so many relationships when she knows for a fact that he's alone in his lab 99% of the time is beyond her.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Something about the way her had told her that made him know that she was going to react poorly. It was a reaction he should expect from her even if it wasn’t the true meaning behind the response. It was the one she would take it as, and even throughout her lack of understanding he would let her have it. He didn’t mean for her to react that way, he was just having trouble forming the right words. Dr. Crane was never a man to rush in to words, men that did rush never had anything important to say. The problem was Miss Glass was far too focused on what she thought she was feeling rather than the fears that were spurring the problem.

Dr. Crane was so socially awkward. He kept his gaze on her as she became increasingly frustrated but his fingers began to roll over each other. He wasn’t nervous about the situation; he just didn’t handle them well. It was more of the idea that he didn’t want to be in the situation or felt like he didn’t have to be. If he would have never picked her up in the first place he wouldn’t be sitting in this room right now having to do this. But that isn’t what he wanted, he had to be here with her and the reason was far greater than she currently understood at this moment.

He turned the space within his hands and turned his palm upward. He was trying to grasp the situation like it might have been tangible and he could pull it and mold it into what he wanted. How could he make her understand? A flash of gold blinked in front of his vision and he flinched. It was a place he didn’t want to have to talk about and he was going to have to do something about it. He couldn’t tell her enough to make her understand, he was going to have to show her in some way. “ The person you are competing with is no longer of this world.” he settled her fears on the manner and tried to bring more clarity to what she was dealing with. “There is a place that remains still in Gotham that holds that memory, perhaps I can take you there and show you better….there isn’t the correct wording to explain such things.” He tried to tell her as plainly and as clearly as he could.

Dr. Crane wasn’t one to often speak this way and he knew it. His demeanor was lower than usual and his head and hands hung heavy, it was a weight that he wasn’t comfortable dealing with. But he never did enjoy being comfortable in the first place; he worked better when there was no comfort.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

As hopeless as she feels about the situation, if there's any sliver of real hope to be had in this situation then Heather will happily take it. Though after having spent so much time grasping at straws only to have all of them slip out of her fingers, to say that she's skeptical whenever anything resembling hope appears would be putting it mildly - it seems like all of it she's found so far seems to be false and it's all too easy to assume that real hope doesn't, in fact, exist.

Though that doesn't mean that she's not to the point where she's done trying yet. Close, but she'd love more than anything for him to help her find something substantial to hold onto at long last. What he says about this 'her' doesn't do much, though - how is she supposed to compete with a memory? A flesh and blood person she can observe and try to beat - or at least punch them in the face - but someone who is no longer alive? ...And how should she feel about the fact that she's apparently losing against someone who doesn't actually exist anymore? If anything, this complicates things even further.

And yet she's quick to react as he goes on to add that there's apparently a place that can explain further than words can. Hesitating for only a moment, she abruptly rolls over and shifts into a sitting position. Unable to look at him in the eyes, her eyes shift around for a moment before they settle on his hands instead. Though he's seen her looking far worse before, given that she's been taking full advantage of her ability to take care of herself since they obtained their current living conditions, she looks like a bit of a mess right now - bedhead, what remains of yesterday's makeup smudged and smeared across her face, the same clothes as yesterday but oddly wrinkled from laying around in them. Nevertheless, she says, "I need you to show me." And given the urgency in her tone, she means right now.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

His mind was already racing with the thoughts and memories from that place but she had finally gotten his full attention when she asked him to show her. There was a sense of needing it in her voice; she needed to sait her fears of the unknown. The thought of going back to that place was something that he wanted to put back at the furthest corner of his mind, but at the moment it seemed like little else would bring her this, false satisfaction. He nodded slowly to her, rolling some skin on his forearm that he rested upon.

“If you insist…Then we will go now. You don’t need to bring anything, it’s not going to be a long trip.” He said dryly, with little in his voice. He was stable for the moment but the air was heavy, like something had been put upon him. Each word held an invisible weight and the weight of his limbs was crushing as he went to stand. He was aching even before they had started to leave.

He motioned for her to come before he flipped the chair back around and slid it in the place he got it from. Was bringing her there the best idea in the first place? What would she gain from it? Some false clarity? It wasn’t that he cared about whether she was satisfied with it or not or even that she understood it, he didn’t care about anything. He needed her focused on other things, or so he wanted to believe. As he processed that thought and made it stick permenantly in his mind he headed to her bedroom door and went out.

Dr. Crane had left her alone in there to either follow or take what she wanted to. He grabbed a few things off of a lab table and checked his pockets to make sure his syringes were on him. He wasn’t planning on researching with this trip, but one never knew when the opportunity would arise. It was best to always be prepared. But for today they were just going to visit a place so that he could show her what she was competing with. Even then, he didn’t know whether she could accept it or not. The thought weighed heavy on him.

It didn’t matter.

Even if she didn’t accept it she had little choice but to be here with him. On the outside her life was ruined and no amount of what Miss Gleeson had told her Dr. Arkham was going to change that. They could only do so much to fix what he had done, but they would never be able to manage what he created. This was his work, she was his work and he wasn’t going to let it be taken from him so easily. But of course she was free to leave whenever she wished.

“Come, we’re going to a school.” He spoke back to her and headed to the door. He had been given transportation since they had come into the new place. It was a good change of pace from living pillar to post. Dr. Crane didn’t mind where they were as long as he could research, but better equipment and a sterile environment never hurt.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

Not seeing the need to respond to that in any way except to follow Jon when he beckons. She doesn't need anything from her room, only pausing to quickly run her fingers through her hair so that it isn't entirely a mess. Normally she likes to look her best out in public just for the sake of looking her best, but she's not really in the mood to worry about that now and who is there to impress anyway? It's not like her reputation would be enhanced by being seen looking better. If anything, the nicer she looks the more plausible the idea that she's Jon's accomplice rather than his victim becomes, and the latter actually invites sympathy while the former is condemned. As for other considerations, if Jon's going to be with her then she had no need of anything at all, so as he gathers his own things she ends up having to wait for him rather than the other way around.

She's visibly restless as he checks his syringes, not bouncing off the walls or anything like that, but unable to stop shifting as she wrestles with many anxious thoughts. As insulated as she's been from many of the realities of her present condition, she knows perfectly well that her life outside of this is ruined. There's no going back now - between VerMillion, the other changes to her mental health, and how ruined she's sure her reputation has surely become, she knows perfectly well that there's no going back to a normal life for her in spite of what anyone else may tell her. At best she can have a little confidence that it's possible to have a life without Jon in it - not a normal or even a very good one, but a life - and now she's over halfway convinced that life may be preferable to the one that she's dealing with now if it can't be altered toward something better.

Once again she responds to Jon's comment on the sort of place they're headed to by simply following him as he leads the way out. She can't say that she's very surprised by it being a school, or at the very least she can't say that it surprises her any more than any other destination would. Though she's certain that the way she knows him is unlike anyone else knows him, she knows very little about his past and where he's been - and for all she knows it could literally be anything. It only matters so much anyway, though - what matters far more, especially given the hurt and emptiness that she's carrying, is the present - because the present is something that you can actually do something about.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane headed out the door with her, the thought of where he was going buzzing in his mind. He tried to shove it to the back as they got in the car and went on their way. He was silent in the car, not that he ever said much of anything anyway. But in this particular case, even if she wanted to speak to him in the car he wouldn’t have responded. His mind was elsewhere and although his eyes were focused on the road and stopping at the appropriate times, he simply wasn’t there.

His mind was wrapped in the past and what it had done to him, how it had changed him or if it ever really had. When he had come out of the sewers that day and basked in the light of Gotham just beyond the bridge, the city that would become his throne. He knew that day what he was, he just didn’t understand it yet, he hadn’t processed what happened to him down there and for that moment in time, he was just trying to survive it. The muddied boy fell into Gotham’s lap and when someone cared to pick the boy off the street, starving and exhausted he had woken in an orphanage where a woman was asking him his name.

The thought caused his eyes to twitch and come out of the deep thought they were in, they had been driving for at least an hour. It wasn’t that it was so terrible far; it was more that there just wasn’t enough places to get there quickly. It was out of the way, in the more housing side of the city, with many streetlights in-between. Dr. Crane also made a habit of avoiding main roads at night for DUI checks. He would pass the DUI but they wouldn’t care about the test when they saw who was driving. When they arrived he pulled up in the back of the school, where the shot still resonated in his mind.

Dr. Crane put the car in park and sat still for a long moment. Did he park in the same spot he had before? He looked up and across the way to the spot where he knew the car that became their grave was. In silence he got out and looked around, not fully knowing where to start. Most stories were supposed to start at the beginning, but so often for Dr. Crane these stories started at the end of something.

He turned on his heels away from the school and beckoned for her to follow without a word. He stopped only momentarily to stare at the spot where he watched her take her last labored breath and then continued on. He walked with her across the street and a few blocks down in silence, despite anything she said. If she wanted to know the truth she was going to have to let the feeling of this place create the mood for her, because she needed to see. He walked her up to that once golden hill, with the hanging tree in the park that seemed as if it looked over the small neighborhood. It didn’t feel soft and warm anymore. The tree looked knotted and uninviting, like it had never welcomed him before in the golden sun.

He stopped in front of it with her, now having lead her back a bit further from the story, but without words. Finally he turned to her. “Sherri Squires was her name.” He rolled his lips after he spoke it like it stung to say it. It was like venom now. “We sat under this tree together in the sun after school. She told me she wanted to be with me. The sun envied the color of her hair. But her beauty was only skin deep…” He let out a long sigh, as if this was becoming laboring for him. His eyes were already distant, watching the boy and the girl sitting close together, looking at an art picture. He wondered where that drawing ever went….It never touched his hands again and he had never thought about it until just this moment.

[Heather Glass - VerMillion]

As they travel to the school, Heather doesn't really have anything to say. Oh, she could ask him five hundred questions that he probably won't answer until they get there anyway, so there's no real point in talking. Instead she spends the time trying to keep both her hopes and her worries as minimal as possible - neither of them are likely to help her when it comes to whatever Jon's going to show her.

When they get there, she still remains quiet. Jon seems to be lost in thought, and she's not going to interrupt them - instead she finds herself looking around at the parking lot and trying to get some sense of what this place is supposed to mean to Jon. She tries to follow his gaze in case that's a clue, but there doesn't seem to be anything of note there. Silent as she follows him out of the car and simply tries to figure out what she's supposed to be getting from this, she finds him looking again at the same empty spot. Obviously there's way more meaning here for him than she's able to determine.

She's almost relieved when he starts walking with seemingly more purpose to somewhere else - hopefully somewhere more clear than a random spot in a parking lot. But when they get to what's apparently 'there', it isn't. Just some ratty old tree on a hill. Fortunately, that's when Jon's finally ready to talk. His words cause her to frown as she ponders them, a deeply troubled expression taking over her face as they seem to echo in her head for a moment. Finally, she asks, "What does she have to do with me?" Because so far, it sounds like she has as much in common with this girl as she does with the Riddler.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

He stared at the bottom of the tree, like it was a space in time that was pulling at him. When she spoke it pulled him slowly out of a trance that had kept its presence whenever he decided to reflect upon it. What did she have to do with any of this?.... Nothing. She didn’t have anything to do with what happened here or what she was. There was nothing in common between the two of them except for the fact that she was here now, just like she was there then.

When Dr. Crane tried to find other thing in common with them in their personality he couldn’t. Of course both women were driven by fear but it was in two totally different ways entirely. She was fair haired, fair skinned, polite and perfect in every way. He wasn’t going to say that Miss Glass wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t Sherri. She had different qualities that she was perfect for, he had made her more perfect than she would ever come to know.

“Nothing…This has nothing to do with you…” He admitted softly. He had no desire to break into the school to show her where it happened, the school could be seen from where they stood. “She was the first girl to even look at me.” He confessed softly though it was a blatant lie in and of itself. He turned to VerMillion, trying to find the words to explain further. Saying it outright wouldn’t matter at this point, but she needed to know. It wasn’t as if she would ever understand, but she wouldn’t be able to tell him that he wasn’t telling her anything. Her lack of ability to comprehend was her own problem.

“Like most things in life it was a rouse…to lure me to a dark corner where her real boyfriend and his…friends could beat me into a coma.” he said in a full sentence that left a bad taste in his mouth. He remembered waking up in the hospital, no one was there for him. There were no cards or get well presents. The school barely acknowledged he was gone, saying it was bad publicity or an already bad area to live. No one cared. It was there he learned that harsh lesson in life.

There was no such thing as an ability to care for another human being. There was no love….It was only out of fear that these things manifested in people’s minds and they would do anything to keep that manifestation.