DSS Chapter 2

Chapter Two: In the Apartment

The rain was coming down heavier now. The streets of Gotham were thankfully empty for the moment, so Jonathan didn't need to worry about anyone seeing him as they walked along in the downpour… Instead, he had to listen to the girl following him sobbing again. Jeez, would she ever stop?

It was slowly beginning to get dark now, the buildings taking on a shadowed and eerie appearance in the gloom. It was chilly, and he was looking forward to being in his nice, comfortable apartment again… That is, if they could even get in there.

"We're almost there," he said, and she didn't respond. Her silence wasn't terribly surprising; after all, she was following a guy with a history of doing some nasty (although necessary, in his mind) things to people to a place she'd never been before.

The silence remained in tact until they came to a building with its entrance blocked off by yellow crime scene tape.

"Is this it?" she asked quietly, looking around.

"Correct," he answered, reaching into his pocket and finding no keys. They must have taken his keys away when they put him in the straitjacket… Great.

He thought for a moment. "Where did I put that spare key?"

He walked up the concrete steps, slipping under the yellow tape that crisscrossed between the handrails, and picked up the mat from in front of the door. Nothing.

"Perhaps…"

He peered underneath the letterbox and there, covered with some black electrical tape, was his spare key. He peeled it off, glancing up and down the street for any signs of people, and unlocked the door.

"Come in quickly, before anyone notices."

She skipped up the stairs, ducking underneath the tape and going inside, as he took one more cautious look about and closed the door behind them.

The only light in the apartment was the dim glow coming through the windows from outside, casting a ghostly quality over the room. The walls appeared to be some murky shade of red in the darkness, and the only sound inside was the floorboards creaking beneath their feet. There were books everywhere, and various forms of sculptures and bric-a-brac. It was rather inviting, but at the same time, ethereal.

The girl studied the room intently, her mind temporarily free from troubles, while Jonathan went into the next room to change his clothes.

She gave a strange look to a statue of a head apparently labeled as an example of phrenology, and went over to a bookshelf, browsing over the titles.

He came back out of the other room, now wearing one of his characteristic black suits, moving past her to the furthest corner of the room to where he had a large wardrobe that substituted for a closet. He opened it and began digging around inside.

"Oh, Faust; I love that play," she said, pointing to one of the books.

He took out a needle and a bottle of fluid, filling the syringe with it.

"What are you doing?" she asked, taking on an edgy tone.

"This is a sedative. It will help you calm down," he replied, approaching her.

"Oh no. No, no, no. You're not giving me any drugs." She waved her hands defensively.

"Come now, this will make you feel better."

"No freakin' way."

Jonathan wasn't going to take no for an answer. "What's that?"

He pointed in the direction of the door, and when she looked away, he stuck the needle in her arm and depressed the plunger. She looked back to him, and her eyes narrowed.

"You crafty bastard."

He chuckled good-naturedly, and retrieved a blanket from nearby, handing it to her. "You're shivering. Why don't you wrap yourself up?"

She nodded, wrapping the blanket around herself and taking a seat on the couch.

"You should be warm and dry in no time. Now, because you're fairly troubled, I think it would be in your best interest to stay here tonight for observation."

"You're not going to do anything shifty…?"

"No, I promise."

"Can I call home, and let my mom know I won't be home tonight? I'll tell her I'm staying at my friend's."

"Go ahead." He stood there, wanting to make sure she didn't do anything that might compromise the situation.

She picked up the phone and dialed. "Hi, mom. I'm staying out tonight. Yeah. Okay, see you later. Love you." She hung up, pulling the blanket more tightly around herself.

"Make yourself at home, and get some rest."

He turned to go into the kitchen when she cleared her throat to get his attention.

She looked at him for a moment. "Thanks, Dr. Crane."

"You're welcome…"

"Lynn."

"It's nice to have you as a guest, Lynn. I think we'll get along just fine."

What an odd girl Lynn was, being so pleasant to someone like Jonathan. Although he didn't trust much of anybody, he felt like she might be a little different from other people. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't stab him in the back, or make him miserable. But the odds seemed slim.