a dance of doves & crows ( jonathan crane )

the monomaniac and the misanthrope .

a/n: wwooaaah. sorry for dipping for as long as i have, i haven't been in the best spot creatively but i really am trying to break out of that. i also saw the batman and that was a big spark of inspiration, i really do adore paul dano riddler

i also need to post because ! holy shit, i started writing this a year ago now ! 🎉 time really does fly, it's insane. it feels like only two months ago i was putting together the introductory chapter, with no idea where i was going. there's still a few messes in the story i have to clean up, and i definitely need to break out of this really bad rut ; but i'm hoping this chapter will do that, or at least get me started ! ! thank you so much for your patience, you guys are the best.

song of the chapter: mary - alex g

"You killed Matthew."

Jules spoke, clear and calm into the silent office she had grown so comfortable in with their time together. Her melodic words cut through the unseen peace of the room — but she didn't mean to do that, not really. She was trying to share a simple, fun fact; almost like she was thanking Jonathan for his crimes in her typical prideful methods. Start anew.

It was blessing them, in a way. Both sides of him. Acknowledging the unspoken, looking through him with nothing in their way.

Still, his heart plummeted — body frozen in the spot behind his desk with his back turned to her. With how open Harleen had spoken and thrown about accusations of his crimes; he expected the worst. Another set back, worse than he could comprehend, and he wasn't sure how he'd be able to bounce back from it.

After all; how could he gain her unconditional trust if she knew what he was? If she could peer inside, see the unspoken?

Jonathan knew he could not let her walk out again. No transfers, no closing doors in his face. He couldn't handle it ; and she had to see that. Surely, she had to see.

He heard soft rustling about behind him, his mind still silent and unsure of how to navigate the traumatized and arguably antisocial landmine behind him. Only she could floor him this way, make him unsure of how to do his own job.

Jules, never quite graceful or quiet on her feet, dropped into the chair. She was not coldly methodical, like him. Not purposefully deceitful, like Selina Kyle or Harleen Quinn.

There was an unabashed, pure honesty to her since the very first day that they met; even before then, during her trial for her crimes. She plead guilty to the courts with no persuasion. She hadn't even tried to clean up her crimes before that. Previously, it was looked at as an amateurish mistake on her end - but Jonathan Crane knew well and good what it was now. A confidence, a bravery that he did not share.

Her reluctance from sharing, from opening up to him was not anything he had previously thought it to be. No, Jules Lovecraft was not the mastermind he had made her out to be in his mind. It was never a game of tug-of-war ; but rather, a challenge of the heart and soul.

He had to earn it. He could not outsmart or overpower a woman who only wanted someone to trust. Was that what he wanted from her, from the very start, instead of victory over an opponent? He wanted her trust, yes, but it was much deeper - he wanted her pride, her disregard for Gotham and acceptance of freedom. Perhaps it was even deeper than that.

He knew she was still patiently waiting for a response, an explanation with dollish eyes burning into the back of his head - but where does he begin?

The crimes itself were out in the open, were they not?