Shake Off The Fear [Dr. Thompkins]

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The slide had hit him hard. Dr. Crane ran with his arm near his chest and the disk still in his pocket. He knew what he had to do and what Edward wanted done. But why was he doing it for Edward? Why did he accept it? He could always find benefit in it that wasn’t the reason others would say….and that’s what he intended upon doing. I would get what Edward wanted, but he’d do it his own way as he always did.

His shoulders were twisting as he walked, he needed to sit down somewhere and assess the damage but he was still on the run. There was nothing that would be stopping him from fixing his arm, besides finding the tools to be able to do so. He turned the corner and ran down crime alley as quickly as he could. He found an apartment door and checked it with his good arm, it wouldn’t budge. He jumped off of the stairs and went to the next door that was huddled further in the alley with a number on the door. His hand jiggled the handle, expecting it to be locked but it wasn’t.

Surprisingly, he was able to let himself right in. His original plan was to break one of the locks if he had to, but this was almost too good to be true. He looked around for any sign of someone but he didn’t see anyone right away. Slowly he closed the door and then ducked into the hall where he found a small corner bathroom. He was just here for supplies. He would get the supplies, fix his arm and get out of here. He would head back to his lab and figure out what to do with the information and tasks that Edward wanted him to do. He would take care of this, just as he said he would.

His arm throbbed and he could feel it beginning to swell. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fractured it. Dr. Crane grabbed some over the counter pain pills from the cabinet and took the cloth hanging from the shower rack. He put it over his arm and made a quick make-shift sling from it. It would be something to stabilize his arm until he could get to his lab to take care of it. Dr. Crane took what he needed, closed the mirror and went back into the living room where he stood in front of the owner of the home.

The woman unfamiliar to him, older and far shorter than him. He had walked into the house of an old woman, from the appearance of herself and the environment around her she lived alone. He fears bled through her environment with each object he looked over but then his eyes settled on her. Dr. Crane straightened as much as he could with his arm being in pain. He went to move through her, past her like she wasn’t there. His demeanor was unstable as he continued walking, the possibilities running through his mind was who she was and what made her who she was. He knew the truth but she didn’t understand it. He didn’t have time to have a session right now. He wasn’t going to deal with her, but then his eyes caught with hers and he couldn’t help himself.

“Are you scared?” He asked her softly as he approached her, towering over the older woman. Even with an injured arm he had no loss in confidence to be able to deal with her, she was just a patient.

[Deleted]

Leslie was just getting home from a long shift at her clinic nearby in Park Row, Gotham City. Crime Alley these days, but she was here first. Way before all these criminals and thugs, way before her beautiful, lively neighborhood turned to filth. But there are still good people in this part of the city and they need the doctor's help. At this point Leslie was tired and just wanted to go inside, take a nice hot bath and then go to bed. As she pulled out her keys she then turned the knob to her townhouse door, but it was already unlocked and she paused. Leslie sighed. "I need to remember to lock this darn door... Leslie ol' girl, you're losing it." She then continued to turn the knob and make her way inside. Once in side she began taking off her coat and scarf and then locking the door behind her.

As she began to turn around to make her way to her room she then noticed out of the corner of her eye a man. A man standing right across from her in her living room. Now with her head fully turned and making eye contact with him, she was in disbelief. After all these years, she only had two break ins, I guess three is the charm. The man had his arm wrapped in of her towels from her bathroom and he looked nervous and wanting to leave. He then made his way over to Leslie not making eye contact but just wanting to get out of there. Leslie standing her ground, never taking her eyes off of his face just keep following his ever move with her eyes. Until, he stopped and made direct eye contact with her. Leslie sighed somewhat intimidated, but she kept her stance. The man had the piercing eyes that could tear a hole in your heart.

He then began to speak as he approached her. "Are you scared?" He said towering over the good doctor. Leslie then chuckled. "I have been living in Gotham my whole life... thirty years in Park Row alone, this is my home. So no, I am not scared... are you?"

Guess being kidnapped by Rupert Thorne and tortured made a lady tough. Maybe it's just the hell that goes on in Crime Alley that done the trick...

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The woman before him had shown signs of living a lifetime here. It would be an understatement to put her on her last leg, but her veil of boldness in his presence would only go so far here. It would be easy as a woman of her age to accept fear instead of flee from it, she would be closer than any other younger than her to oblivions embrace. Dr. Crane stopped just a foot in front of her and went to move passed her, but before he could take a step the slip moved and he hissed in pain. If something wasn’t completely broken it was definitely cracked.

His eyes looked up from the injury back to the woman’s. He didn’t have time for this. He had gotten the chemicals he needed and now he was going to leave. He was in no condition to perform his research and if he truly needed to he could always come back for her. She was a feeble old woman despite the way she spoke and she wouldn’t give him much trouble at all. It would be interesting to indulge in research of the elderly, as he didn’t do it often. It almost seemed to be something about Gotham….

In his world at least people didn’t get old. There was an unspoken rule almost, you will die young in this profession or you will suffer later. Of course Dr. Crane already had the inevitable truth that he couldn’t die placed in front of him, but it was nothing that he could worry about. Everyone around him however had already made their choices. The choice was obvious in this business; you die while you’re young or live in a cardboard box on the street when you can no longer do it.

In his pain he stepped aside from her and tried to go around, he needed a moment. Without asking her, without even acknowledging her he went to her dining room table and placed his arm on it. He needed a better brace before he left. He cloud break one of these chairs and use it as a splint, it would be a quick fix before this woman finally decided to call the police, but he would be out before they ever arrived. He winced in pain and tried to tighten the make shift sling he’d made.

“ If you have a brace you can lay it on the table…If not I’m going to make one.” He casually spoke though it didn’t even seem like it was directed at her. It was a warning of sorts, he could ruin her living room until he found something that worked or she could find something that worked.