Fic: Georgian Nights (6/?)
Title: Georgian Nights
Universe: Heavy Nolan with influences by others
Characters: Dr. Jonathan Crane, Bruce Wayne, Jeremiah Crane (Kid from the Narrows), Dick Greyson, Original Female Character, Original Male Character
Pairing: Jonathan/Bruce
Rating: NC-17 (full story)
Warnings: Graphic medical procidure, Romance, sex, snark, mentions/descriptions of psycological disorders, graphic depictions of animal testing.
Word Count: 14,961 (as of curent chapter)
Summary: Three years after the events of The Dark Knight and Bruce finds Dr. Jonathan Crane somewhere he least expected...Georgia.
Previous Chapters: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V.
Chapter Six: Athazagoraphobia
"Me, I'm scared of everything, I'm scared of who I am, what I saw, what I did, but most of all I am scared of walking out of this room and never feeling for the rest of my life, the way I feel when I'm with you." - Unknown
"Have you ever given thought to the fact that maybe the reason Richard is so distant, is the fact that you are?" Jonathan asked, raising up on his elbow to look down at Bruce as they lay side-by-side on Bruce's bed. They had been discussing Richard's relationship with his ward for the better part of half an hour and Jonathan could no longer bite his tongue against his observations.
"I'm not..."
"Are," Jonathan interrupted. "You keep him at arms length, Bruce. You still refer to him as your ward even when everyone knows there's not a chance of family coming to claim him, you rarely touch him outside of sparring practice, you limit your affections to the same gestures and words you give Jeremiah, hell, even his costume is based on the one he wore in the circus, rather then something that has meaning to his life now," Jonathan said, ticking off the points on his fingers.
"I'm not going to take away his past, Jonathan."
"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to accept the past that it's been three years since his parents died and that he's moved on."
"Of course he hasn't, I never..."
Jonathan reached out, gently taking Bruce's hand. "No, you haven't, and that's the problem isn't it?"
"And what do you mean by that?"
"You've never moved on from your parent's death, you're still grieving them even after all these years and it's destroying you bit by bit until you can't even relate to a scared teenage boy you're charged with raising. You couldn't save them and now everyone who crosses Batman's path has to pay, even those that don't deserve it."
"What would you know about it, Crane?"
"It's my job, to know about it, Bruce," Jonathan said softly, calmly, not letting Bruce's anger get to him. "Sort of comes with being a psychiatrist, not to mention, I've read your files."
"What files? And why the hell were you reading them?"
"Police files, psychologist files, Ra's files...if there's a file on you, I have a copy of it in storage," Jonathan said with a shrug, promptly falling onto the bed from the action. "As for why...there was more to the plot to ransom Gotham then just sticking the emitter on the train and riding it across town, well, more to my plan," Jonathan said, still bitter over being betrayed. He had such grand ideas...
"Such as?" Bruce asked and Jonathan shivered at Batman's growl slipping through the words, ideas and thoughts shifting in his head.
"Kidnapping Gotham's elite and gassing them," Jonathan said, sitting up a bit. "Would have been such a grand party, the best of the best all gathered around, trembling and shaking, terrified out of their little mink coats before I even got to them with the gas." He gave a giggle at the images in his mind, head titled back a bit. "I couldn't wait to see what fears motivated those who ruled over us...what truly terrified the brave and the beautiful."
Jonathan turned, studying Bruce, licking his lips. "What terrified you. Would you scream for Mummy and Daddy?" He reached out, tracing a finger down Bruce's chest before sliding onto the other man, straddling Bruce's hips. He leaned forward, his lips brushing over Bruce's. "What does terrify you, Mr. Wayne? What did you see as you breathed in that choking white powder?"
"Bats," Bruce said after a moment, reaching up and grabbing Jonathan's hands, entwining their fingers and drawing their hands over his head, forcing Jonathan down even further. "I'm scared of bats,"
"...bats?" Jonathan blinked, thrown off by that. "I had...no idea. That was not in any of my analysis, it would have changed everything," he pouted slightly, before leaning down, kissing Bruce deeply, his hips rocking against Bruce's. "How long did the toxin last before Fox found the antidote? How much did you scream? Did it feel as if your heart would explode? Tell me everything." he growled, hips moving faster with each word, a groan spilling from his lips.
Bruce sat up, pushing Jonathan back, his grip switching to hold tightly to Jonathan's wrist, studying the other man's face. "We are not doing this right now," he murmured, dodging another kiss, hands sliding down to Jonathan's hips to keep them still.
"Why not?" Jonathan asked with a pout, trying to break free of Bruce's hold, before giving up and pulling his shirt over his head.
"Because if I'm going to have sex with my boyfriend, he's going to be in his own body to enjoy it, Scarecrow," Bruce answered, though his mouth had a mind of it's own and latched on the long column of Scarecrow's neck, biting and sucking.
Scarecrow moaned deeply, clutching at Bruce's shoulders, hips once more pressing against Bruce's as the other man's grip lessened, hissing as Bruce bit him again. "It's not like it's cheating...oh god...two sides of the same dented coin and all that..."
Bruce hissed as Scarecrow pressed down harder, one hand sliding down to rest on the man's lower back, forcing their hips tighter together, jerking up against Scarecrow as he ran his sharp nails down Bruce's back. "It's still wrong," he groaned, moving his mouth up to kiss hungrily at Scarecrow's lips. He could excuse it away, Jonathan pushing him aside just as they started getting into anything further then light touching, the fact he had an eager, willing, if overly so, body in his lap...a body that did, in all technicality belong to Jonathan...even his high sex drive could excuse it, but the fact remained that Bruce's reasoning was nothing of the sort.
Scarecrow tasted of blood and fear...neither a taste belonging to the body in question, and Bruce wanted it, though, it also helped that Scarecrow was far easier to
There had to be something sick and twisted about wanting the voice in your boyfriend's head more then you wanted your boyfriend, but Bruce wasn't going to pause in his taste test long enough to ask and risk Jonathan beating the shit out of him.
Scarecrow took advantage of ?Bruce's mental distraction to un-button the other man's shirt, pushing it open as he pulled away from the hungry kiss, mouth latching eagerly onto Bruce's nipple as he un-buttoned and un-zipped his own jeans, pulling his erection free, groaning as he stroked himself before working on Bruce's pants. Once he got Bruce's length free, he grinned at the other man, a wicked quick of his lips that set Bruce's blood boiling, before Scarecrow dove in for another hungry kiss full of teeth and tongue, reaching down between their bodies to stroke both of them, manic giggles escaping them each time they broke for air.
"I thought I said I wasn't going to have sex with you," Bruce asked, gasping between the words, struggling to think...or not think, or something as Scarecrow's too expert touch slid over him, hands pushing the man's jeans down further so he could grip Scarecrow's upper thighs, pressing their hips harder together, trapping the man's hand, though it didn't stop the movement.
"You're not...you're...playing," Scarecrow gasped out, giggling again, before whimpering, hips jerking as he drew closer to release.
"Playing? What, house?" Bruce muttered, latching onto Scarecrow's neck, his own hand reaching down to touch...feel his lover.
"Playing at being the big, strong man who has everything under control...even as everything crashes down around him," Scarecrow said, before leaning in, kissing Bruce's ear. "You're scared, Brucey," he whispered, tongue flicking out over Bruce's ear. "You're so afraid of failing you can't even have sex without being terrified of what comes after. Each moment, each second I can taste it over my tongue, it's so delicious,"
Bruce pulled back, thrusting up into Scarecrow's hand, moaning deeply. "I'm not scared of sex, 'Crow,"
"No, you're scared of who you're fucking," Scarecrow said, biting at Bruce's lips, swallowing another moan.
Bruce let out a choked laugh, reaching up to pinch one of Scarecrow's nipples hard, giving it a twist, enjoying the way the other man jerked and gasped at the feeling, hips shifting eagerly from the pain. "I'm not scared of you,"
"You're not," Scarecrow agreed, tightening his hand around their erections, running the very tips of his nails over Bruce's length. "You're scared of how we make you feel. You're scared you might actually give a damn about poor, broken Jonathan," Scarecrow said before leaning into Bruce's ear again. "Your scared we will break you...and you're eager for it,"
Bruce bit down on Scarecrow's neck as he climaxed, stiffing the cry in the man's tender flesh, arms wrapping around Scarecrow's body as the other man started to tremble, his own climax following. They sat there for a moment, riding out the aftershocks of their orgasms, enjoying simply a moment of being in their own skins.
Scarecrow started un-tangling himself from Bruce, sliding off the bed and grinning, sucking his fingers clean as he stood. "I'm going to go shower, thanks for the ride."
"I know what scares you," Bruce said easily, laying back and watching Scarecrow, enjoying the view.
Scarecrow laughed, running a hand through his hair. "And just what could that be, Brucey?"
Bruce smirked, very little humor in the expression. "You're scared of not existing. That one day Jonathan won't need or want you anymore and you'll simply...fade away."
Scarecrow stared at Bruce, fingers gently brushing his lips before he jerked down, turning on his heel. He didn't say anything, as he slipped into the bathroom and Bruce snorted, rolling on his side, back towards the bathroom, feeling disgusted with himself.
-
"You didn't have to be so cruel,"
Scarecrow looked up from where he was bent over the sink, rubbing his eyes. "It's my nature to be cruel, Jonathan," he muttered, raising his eyes to meet those of his other half, reflected back to him through the mirror.
Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at Scarecrow until the man turned his back onto the mirror, refusing to be rebuked by his weaker half. Instead, he started stripping, grimacing at the fluids covering his body. "It's not like it matters anyway, he's your boyfriend, your toy to play with, I just got you what you wanted...broke the ice so to speak."
"Like you didn't want it just as much as I did," Jonathan muttered, tossing the jeans over towards the hamper, turning on the shower. "If not more, you slut."
"Hey, you created me, I cannot help but to be as you wish ," Scarecrow said, buffing his nails on the white tank top he wore in the mirror.
"You're supposed to be what I can't be, not a hedonistic little whore who gets off every time someone whimpers over a spider,"
"Unless that's what you secretly want to be," Scarecrow said with a giggle before hopping up onto the sink, grabbing Bruce's tooth brush and the toothpaste. "What does it matter anyway? A few more weeks and I'll be nothing but a happy memory again, locked away under layers of medication and self-control,"
"That is disgusting," Jonathan muttered, referring to Scarecrow both using Bruce's toothbrush and talking around it. He stepped into the shower, rinsing off his stomach and hips with the spray. "Is that why you came out today? Trying to have some fun before you vanish again?"
Scarecrow was silent, watching Jonathan shower in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, not wanting to answer the question, to actually think about the thoughts that had been flowing through his half of the brain while the medication was low enough to allow him to exist.
He didn't want to tell Jonathan that he wasn't scared of existing...so much as losing his head mate. Scarecrow had spent too many years watching over, caring for, protectinglovingdesiringwanting Jonathan to give him up again.
"Are you mad?" Scarecrow asked instead, rinsing out his mouth before turning so he could fully watch the other man.
"Of what? Screwing with Bruce?" Jonathan shrugged, soaping up. "You are me, whatever those idiot doctors at Arkham say, it's not to far of a stretch to think a little slut like you would jump on him," Jonathan smirked at Scarecrow's outraged sound before smiling over his shoulder at him. "It's actually nice to know there's more in your head then how many people's minds you can tear apart,"
-
Bruce listened to Jonathan talk to himself in the bathroom, shaking his head as he rooted through his drawers, having already cleaned up down the hall. He started to dress, wondering if he should confront the doctor about the conversation he was having before dismissing it, sure Jonathan wouldn't appreciate the fact Bruce was listening in on what was apparently a private conversation with the voice in his head. He looked up as the shower shut off and the door opened, Jonathan standing there, still dripping, towel slung low on his hips.
They had never discussed what was going on between them, what this...relationship, if any really was, and Bruce wondered if the moments from half an hour ago would change that...force them to define what they were doing.
Jonathan smiled at Bruce, grabbing his glasses of the night table and sliding them on before raising on tiptoes for a gentle kiss before heading out of Bruce's room to get changed, ignoring the way Bruce opened his mouth to say something. Bruce watched him go before closing his mouth, shrugging.
Apparently, it didn't change a thing.
Universe: Heavy Nolan with influences by others
Characters: Dr. Jonathan Crane, Bruce Wayne, Jeremiah Crane (Kid from the Narrows), Dick Greyson, Original Female Character, Original Male Character
Pairing: Jonathan/Bruce
Rating: NC-17 (full story)
Warnings: Graphic medical procidure, Romance, sex, snark, mentions/descriptions of psycological disorders, graphic depictions of animal testing.
Word Count: 14,961 (as of curent chapter)
Summary: Three years after the events of The Dark Knight and Bruce finds Dr. Jonathan Crane somewhere he least expected...Georgia.
Previous Chapters: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V.
Chapter Six: Athazagoraphobia
"Me, I'm scared of everything, I'm scared of who I am, what I saw, what I did, but most of all I am scared of walking out of this room and never feeling for the rest of my life, the way I feel when I'm with you." - Unknown
"Have you ever given thought to the fact that maybe the reason Richard is so distant, is the fact that you are?" Jonathan asked, raising up on his elbow to look down at Bruce as they lay side-by-side on Bruce's bed. They had been discussing Richard's relationship with his ward for the better part of half an hour and Jonathan could no longer bite his tongue against his observations.
"I'm not..."
"Are," Jonathan interrupted. "You keep him at arms length, Bruce. You still refer to him as your ward even when everyone knows there's not a chance of family coming to claim him, you rarely touch him outside of sparring practice, you limit your affections to the same gestures and words you give Jeremiah, hell, even his costume is based on the one he wore in the circus, rather then something that has meaning to his life now," Jonathan said, ticking off the points on his fingers.
"I'm not going to take away his past, Jonathan."
"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to accept the past that it's been three years since his parents died and that he's moved on."
"Of course he hasn't, I never..."
Jonathan reached out, gently taking Bruce's hand. "No, you haven't, and that's the problem isn't it?"
"And what do you mean by that?"
"You've never moved on from your parent's death, you're still grieving them even after all these years and it's destroying you bit by bit until you can't even relate to a scared teenage boy you're charged with raising. You couldn't save them and now everyone who crosses Batman's path has to pay, even those that don't deserve it."
"What would you know about it, Crane?"
"It's my job, to know about it, Bruce," Jonathan said softly, calmly, not letting Bruce's anger get to him. "Sort of comes with being a psychiatrist, not to mention, I've read your files."
"What files? And why the hell were you reading them?"
"Police files, psychologist files, Ra's files...if there's a file on you, I have a copy of it in storage," Jonathan said with a shrug, promptly falling onto the bed from the action. "As for why...there was more to the plot to ransom Gotham then just sticking the emitter on the train and riding it across town, well, more to my plan," Jonathan said, still bitter over being betrayed. He had such grand ideas...
"Such as?" Bruce asked and Jonathan shivered at Batman's growl slipping through the words, ideas and thoughts shifting in his head.
"Kidnapping Gotham's elite and gassing them," Jonathan said, sitting up a bit. "Would have been such a grand party, the best of the best all gathered around, trembling and shaking, terrified out of their little mink coats before I even got to them with the gas." He gave a giggle at the images in his mind, head titled back a bit. "I couldn't wait to see what fears motivated those who ruled over us...what truly terrified the brave and the beautiful."
Jonathan turned, studying Bruce, licking his lips. "What terrified you. Would you scream for Mummy and Daddy?" He reached out, tracing a finger down Bruce's chest before sliding onto the other man, straddling Bruce's hips. He leaned forward, his lips brushing over Bruce's. "What does terrify you, Mr. Wayne? What did you see as you breathed in that choking white powder?"
"Bats," Bruce said after a moment, reaching up and grabbing Jonathan's hands, entwining their fingers and drawing their hands over his head, forcing Jonathan down even further. "I'm scared of bats,"
"...bats?" Jonathan blinked, thrown off by that. "I had...no idea. That was not in any of my analysis, it would have changed everything," he pouted slightly, before leaning down, kissing Bruce deeply, his hips rocking against Bruce's. "How long did the toxin last before Fox found the antidote? How much did you scream? Did it feel as if your heart would explode? Tell me everything." he growled, hips moving faster with each word, a groan spilling from his lips.
Bruce sat up, pushing Jonathan back, his grip switching to hold tightly to Jonathan's wrist, studying the other man's face. "We are not doing this right now," he murmured, dodging another kiss, hands sliding down to Jonathan's hips to keep them still.
"Why not?" Jonathan asked with a pout, trying to break free of Bruce's hold, before giving up and pulling his shirt over his head.
"Because if I'm going to have sex with my boyfriend, he's going to be in his own body to enjoy it, Scarecrow," Bruce answered, though his mouth had a mind of it's own and latched on the long column of Scarecrow's neck, biting and sucking.
Scarecrow moaned deeply, clutching at Bruce's shoulders, hips once more pressing against Bruce's as the other man's grip lessened, hissing as Bruce bit him again. "It's not like it's cheating...oh god...two sides of the same dented coin and all that..."
Bruce hissed as Scarecrow pressed down harder, one hand sliding down to rest on the man's lower back, forcing their hips tighter together, jerking up against Scarecrow as he ran his sharp nails down Bruce's back. "It's still wrong," he groaned, moving his mouth up to kiss hungrily at Scarecrow's lips. He could excuse it away, Jonathan pushing him aside just as they started getting into anything further then light touching, the fact he had an eager, willing, if overly so, body in his lap...a body that did, in all technicality belong to Jonathan...even his high sex drive could excuse it, but the fact remained that Bruce's reasoning was nothing of the sort.
Scarecrow tasted of blood and fear...neither a taste belonging to the body in question, and Bruce wanted it, though, it also helped that Scarecrow was far easier to
There had to be something sick and twisted about wanting the voice in your boyfriend's head more then you wanted your boyfriend, but Bruce wasn't going to pause in his taste test long enough to ask and risk Jonathan beating the shit out of him.
Scarecrow took advantage of ?Bruce's mental distraction to un-button the other man's shirt, pushing it open as he pulled away from the hungry kiss, mouth latching eagerly onto Bruce's nipple as he un-buttoned and un-zipped his own jeans, pulling his erection free, groaning as he stroked himself before working on Bruce's pants. Once he got Bruce's length free, he grinned at the other man, a wicked quick of his lips that set Bruce's blood boiling, before Scarecrow dove in for another hungry kiss full of teeth and tongue, reaching down between their bodies to stroke both of them, manic giggles escaping them each time they broke for air.
"I thought I said I wasn't going to have sex with you," Bruce asked, gasping between the words, struggling to think...or not think, or something as Scarecrow's too expert touch slid over him, hands pushing the man's jeans down further so he could grip Scarecrow's upper thighs, pressing their hips harder together, trapping the man's hand, though it didn't stop the movement.
"You're not...you're...playing," Scarecrow gasped out, giggling again, before whimpering, hips jerking as he drew closer to release.
"Playing? What, house?" Bruce muttered, latching onto Scarecrow's neck, his own hand reaching down to touch...feel his lover.
"Playing at being the big, strong man who has everything under control...even as everything crashes down around him," Scarecrow said, before leaning in, kissing Bruce's ear. "You're scared, Brucey," he whispered, tongue flicking out over Bruce's ear. "You're so afraid of failing you can't even have sex without being terrified of what comes after. Each moment, each second I can taste it over my tongue, it's so delicious,"
Bruce pulled back, thrusting up into Scarecrow's hand, moaning deeply. "I'm not scared of sex, 'Crow,"
"No, you're scared of who you're fucking," Scarecrow said, biting at Bruce's lips, swallowing another moan.
Bruce let out a choked laugh, reaching up to pinch one of Scarecrow's nipples hard, giving it a twist, enjoying the way the other man jerked and gasped at the feeling, hips shifting eagerly from the pain. "I'm not scared of you,"
"You're not," Scarecrow agreed, tightening his hand around their erections, running the very tips of his nails over Bruce's length. "You're scared of how we make you feel. You're scared you might actually give a damn about poor, broken Jonathan," Scarecrow said before leaning into Bruce's ear again. "Your scared we will break you...and you're eager for it,"
Bruce bit down on Scarecrow's neck as he climaxed, stiffing the cry in the man's tender flesh, arms wrapping around Scarecrow's body as the other man started to tremble, his own climax following. They sat there for a moment, riding out the aftershocks of their orgasms, enjoying simply a moment of being in their own skins.
Scarecrow started un-tangling himself from Bruce, sliding off the bed and grinning, sucking his fingers clean as he stood. "I'm going to go shower, thanks for the ride."
"I know what scares you," Bruce said easily, laying back and watching Scarecrow, enjoying the view.
Scarecrow laughed, running a hand through his hair. "And just what could that be, Brucey?"
Bruce smirked, very little humor in the expression. "You're scared of not existing. That one day Jonathan won't need or want you anymore and you'll simply...fade away."
Scarecrow stared at Bruce, fingers gently brushing his lips before he jerked down, turning on his heel. He didn't say anything, as he slipped into the bathroom and Bruce snorted, rolling on his side, back towards the bathroom, feeling disgusted with himself.
-
"You didn't have to be so cruel,"
Scarecrow looked up from where he was bent over the sink, rubbing his eyes. "It's my nature to be cruel, Jonathan," he muttered, raising his eyes to meet those of his other half, reflected back to him through the mirror.
Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at Scarecrow until the man turned his back onto the mirror, refusing to be rebuked by his weaker half. Instead, he started stripping, grimacing at the fluids covering his body. "It's not like it matters anyway, he's your boyfriend, your toy to play with, I just got you what you wanted...broke the ice so to speak."
"Like you didn't want it just as much as I did," Jonathan muttered, tossing the jeans over towards the hamper, turning on the shower. "If not more, you slut."
"Hey, you created me, I cannot help but to be as you wish ," Scarecrow said, buffing his nails on the white tank top he wore in the mirror.
"You're supposed to be what I can't be, not a hedonistic little whore who gets off every time someone whimpers over a spider,"
"Unless that's what you secretly want to be," Scarecrow said with a giggle before hopping up onto the sink, grabbing Bruce's tooth brush and the toothpaste. "What does it matter anyway? A few more weeks and I'll be nothing but a happy memory again, locked away under layers of medication and self-control,"
"That is disgusting," Jonathan muttered, referring to Scarecrow both using Bruce's toothbrush and talking around it. He stepped into the shower, rinsing off his stomach and hips with the spray. "Is that why you came out today? Trying to have some fun before you vanish again?"
Scarecrow was silent, watching Jonathan shower in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, not wanting to answer the question, to actually think about the thoughts that had been flowing through his half of the brain while the medication was low enough to allow him to exist.
He didn't want to tell Jonathan that he wasn't scared of existing...so much as losing his head mate. Scarecrow had spent too many years watching over, caring for, protectinglovingdesiringwanting Jonathan to give him up again.
"Are you mad?" Scarecrow asked instead, rinsing out his mouth before turning so he could fully watch the other man.
"Of what? Screwing with Bruce?" Jonathan shrugged, soaping up. "You are me, whatever those idiot doctors at Arkham say, it's not to far of a stretch to think a little slut like you would jump on him," Jonathan smirked at Scarecrow's outraged sound before smiling over his shoulder at him. "It's actually nice to know there's more in your head then how many people's minds you can tear apart,"
-
Bruce listened to Jonathan talk to himself in the bathroom, shaking his head as he rooted through his drawers, having already cleaned up down the hall. He started to dress, wondering if he should confront the doctor about the conversation he was having before dismissing it, sure Jonathan wouldn't appreciate the fact Bruce was listening in on what was apparently a private conversation with the voice in his head. He looked up as the shower shut off and the door opened, Jonathan standing there, still dripping, towel slung low on his hips.
They had never discussed what was going on between them, what this...relationship, if any really was, and Bruce wondered if the moments from half an hour ago would change that...force them to define what they were doing.
Jonathan smiled at Bruce, grabbing his glasses of the night table and sliding them on before raising on tiptoes for a gentle kiss before heading out of Bruce's room to get changed, ignoring the way Bruce opened his mouth to say something. Bruce watched him go before closing his mouth, shrugging.
Apparently, it didn't change a thing.