Disclaimer: I do not own the rights "Batman" or any of its characters, including Scarecrow, nor do I own any rights to the comics or the films. I own nothing!
A/N: This is the long awaited Crane/OC fic. While I think Crane is capable of of having a relationship, I do not think he is capable of having a healthy one. This chapter is a prelude to the rest of the story, to give you an idea of how their relationship will function, and how they both need each other, whether they realize it or not. I'll introduce the OC in much greater detail in future chapters, but for now, enjoy!
"Do you trust me?" Crane asks. He strokes her hair, weaving his fingers in between the dark strands.
She looks up at him, her eyes wet. Silent tears run down her cheeks, leaving behind black trails of mascara. She smiles, her lower lip trembling.
Crane reaches forward and brushes a tear away, her makeup leaving a smudge on his fingers. He cradles her in his arms, running his fingers up and down her back in slow, soothing strokes. He can feel her fear, her apprehension, and he savors it, sipping it like a fine wine.
She lays her head on his shoulder, his jacket wet from her tears, her fingernails digging into his arms. He allows her a few minutes of silence before leaning back and gently lifting her face, his hand under her chin. He leans in close, her breath hot on his face, his lips inches from hers.
"Do you trust me?" he asks again, his voice soft.
He looks into her eyes, full of fear and love, and he knows he has won.
"Yes," she whispers. Fresh tears spill down her face, and she wipes them away, smiling. She extends her arm, accepting what is about to happen.
Her eyes never leave his as the needle presses into her arm.
She leans into him she begins to feel the toxin's effects, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her face to his chest. He buries his lips in her hair as she screams, her nails digging into his back. She begins to sob and he pulls her head back, crushing her lips with his, his face wet with her tears and sweat, her chest heaving against his. His mouth fills with her screams and he tastes the salt of her tears.
He kisses her until her screams turn into whimpers and she collapses into him, her breath ragged, her skin soaked.
"Shhhh," he says, stroking her face, soothing her. "It's all over now. You're with me. Shhhh." He smiles as he looks down at his victory, gazing back at him with infatuation and awe.
"I love you," she says, her voice weak. She laces her fingers through his and brings his hand to her lips, planting a trail of kisses down his arm.
"I know," he says, smiling.
She is his experiment, his acheivement, his victory.
She is his.