Are you scared yet?

Heavily inspired by @/jcphd

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[hayfilled-heresy]

They will not lay hands on you.

Theres comfort in that, at least.

Ashtyn will be fine.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mm.

There's also the threat of Bruce finding the bodies and worrying, but he can't voice that. He can't. The doors open, and he makes a beeline for his door. He can't wear these clothes any longer. The blood is crusting.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan lounges on the sofa, waiting for his husband to return. He loosens his tie. Lights a cigarette.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[hayfilled-heresy]

They will not lay hands on you.

Theres comfort in that, at least.

Ashtyn will be fine.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Maybe not, then. I didn't know a lot about her up until 4 months ago.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You've only given her four months, and she already reminds you of Dorey?

He sighs.

Darling, this attachment seems unhealthy. Maybe it's best for you to take a break from this Tabitha girl, hm?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She reminds me of you more.

He'll sound crazy if he elaborated. Tabitha was not their child. She wasn't, and he needed to stop thinking that.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Does she now? And why is that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She probably knows. She looks like you, and talks like you. She acts like me. Missed you like I did.

That was their daughter.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

he was missed.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

That, and, y'know, she introduced herself with a needle to my arm.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Alexander, Dear.

He removes the scythe from his hands once more. Revoking access. Taking control.

You know better.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Probably. I can't just leave her, though.

His hands, now free, roll up his sleeves. He can't stand the now cold, wet fabric touching his arms.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You can.

You will.

Though I suppose I will indulge you for tonight.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

How gracious.

I don't know, um.. Who's home right now. We might have to face Thea, or Ash...

Stop offering him information. You wan to go an' tell him you're shagging Bats, now? You wannae die in this alley before you can see Tabi?

[hayfilled-heresy]

A non-issue.

He mutters.

You are making a deal out of something insignificant. Thea knows who I am.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Yeah; she'll throw you out of a window if she sees you.

So he knows who Thea is, and doesn't seem wary of her. He's worked at Arkham. That's a fact, now.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I will remove her hands before she does so.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

... right.

Something prickles at the thought of him hurting her again. He can't. He's tried and he can't. It's fine. They approach the building, finally, walking into the side alley to go up the fire escape. It's a miracle they hadn't been spotted already, he's not taking chances.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan notes the limp, and says nothing. He hands the scythe back to use as a temporary cane.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They climb for a solid 4 minutes in silence before climbing in through a window and getting in the elevator. It made him anxious to see the doors close. Top floor. The fan was loud.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Alex.

He could tell his husband was nervous. He wanted to know why.

Darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Maybe not, then. I didn't know a lot about her up until 4 months ago.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You've only given her four months, and she already reminds you of Dorey?

He sighs.

Darling, this attachment seems unhealthy. Maybe it's best for you to take a break from this Tabitha girl, hm?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She reminds me of you more.

He'll sound crazy if he elaborated. Tabitha was not their child. She wasn't, and he needed to stop thinking that.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Does she now? And why is that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She probably knows. She looks like you, and talks like you. She acts like me. Missed you like I did.

That was their daughter.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

he was missed.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

That, and, y'know, she introduced herself with a needle to my arm.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Alexander, Dear.

He removes the scythe from his hands once more. Revoking access. Taking control.

You know better.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Probably. I can't just leave her, though.

His hands, now free, roll up his sleeves. He can't stand the now cold, wet fabric touching his arms.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You can.

You will.

Though I suppose I will indulge you for tonight.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

How gracious.

I don't know, um.. Who's home right now. We might have to face Thea, or Ash...

Stop offering him information. You wan to go an' tell him you're shagging Bats, now? You wannae die in this alley before you can see Tabi?

[hayfilled-heresy]

A non-issue.

He mutters.

You are making a deal out of something insignificant. Thea knows who I am.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Yeah; she'll throw you out of a window if she sees you.

So he knows who Thea is, and doesn't seem wary of her. He's worked at Arkham. That's a fact, now.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I will remove her hands before she does so.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

... right.

Something prickles at the thought of him hurting her again. He can't. He's tried and he can't. It's fine. They approach the building, finally, walking into the side alley to go up the fire escape. It's a miracle they hadn't been spotted already, he's not taking chances.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan notes the limp, and says nothing. He hands the scythe back to use as a temporary cane.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Maybe not, then. I didn't know a lot about her up until 4 months ago.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You've only given her four months, and she already reminds you of Dorey?

He sighs.

Darling, this attachment seems unhealthy. Maybe it's best for you to take a break from this Tabitha girl, hm?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She reminds me of you more.

He'll sound crazy if he elaborated. Tabitha was not their child. She wasn't, and he needed to stop thinking that.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Does she now? And why is that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She probably knows. She looks like you, and talks like you. She acts like me. Missed you like I did.

That was their daughter.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

he was missed.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

That, and, y'know, she introduced herself with a needle to my arm.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Alexander, Dear.

He removes the scythe from his hands once more. Revoking access. Taking control.

You know better.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Probably. I can't just leave her, though.

His hands, now free, roll up his sleeves. He can't stand the now cold, wet fabric touching his arms.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You can.

You will.

Though I suppose I will indulge you for tonight.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

How gracious.

I don't know, um.. Who's home right now. We might have to face Thea, or Ash...

Stop offering him information. You wan to go an' tell him you're shagging Bats, now? You wannae die in this alley before you can see Tabi?

[hayfilled-heresy]

A non-issue.

He mutters.

You are making a deal out of something insignificant. Thea knows who I am.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Yeah; she'll throw you out of a window if she sees you.

So he knows who Thea is, and doesn't seem wary of her. He's worked at Arkham. That's a fact, now.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I will remove her hands before she does so.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Maybe not, then. I didn't know a lot about her up until 4 months ago.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You've only given her four months, and she already reminds you of Dorey?

He sighs.

Darling, this attachment seems unhealthy. Maybe it's best for you to take a break from this Tabitha girl, hm?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She reminds me of you more.

He'll sound crazy if he elaborated. Tabitha was not their child. She wasn't, and he needed to stop thinking that.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Does she now? And why is that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She probably knows. She looks like you, and talks like you. She acts like me. Missed you like I did.

That was their daughter.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

he was missed.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

That, and, y'know, she introduced herself with a needle to my arm.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Alexander, Dear.

He removes the scythe from his hands once more. Revoking access. Taking control.

You know better.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Probably. I can't just leave her, though.

His hands, now free, roll up his sleeves. He can't stand the now cold, wet fabric touching his arms.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You can.

You will.

Though I suppose I will indulge you for tonight.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

How gracious.

I don't know, um.. Who's home right now. We might have to face Thea, or Ash...

Stop offering him information. You wan to go an' tell him you're shagging Bats, now? You wannae die in this alley before you can see Tabi?

[hayfilled-heresy]

A non-issue.

He mutters.

You are making a deal out of something insignificant. Thea knows who I am.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Maybe not, then. I didn't know a lot about her up until 4 months ago.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You've only given her four months, and she already reminds you of Dorey?

He sighs.

Darling, this attachment seems unhealthy. Maybe it's best for you to take a break from this Tabitha girl, hm?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She reminds me of you more.

He'll sound crazy if he elaborated. Tabitha was not their child. She wasn't, and he needed to stop thinking that.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Does she now? And why is that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She probably knows. She looks like you, and talks like you. She acts like me. Missed you like I did.

That was their daughter.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

he was missed.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

That, and, y'know, she introduced herself with a needle to my arm.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Alexander, Dear.

He removes the scythe from his hands once more. Revoking access. Taking control.

You know better.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Probably. I can't just leave her, though.

His hands, now free, roll up his sleeves. He can't stand the now cold, wet fabric touching his arms.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You can.

You will.

Though I suppose I will indulge you for tonight.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Maybe not, then. I didn't know a lot about her up until 4 months ago.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You've only given her four months, and she already reminds you of Dorey?

He sighs.

Darling, this attachment seems unhealthy. Maybe it's best for you to take a break from this Tabitha girl, hm?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She reminds me of you more.

He'll sound crazy if he elaborated. Tabitha was not their child. She wasn't, and he needed to stop thinking that.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Does she now? And why is that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She probably knows. She looks like you, and talks like you. She acts like me. Missed you like I did.

That was their daughter.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

he was missed.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

That, and, y'know, she introduced herself with a needle to my arm.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Alexander, Dear.

He removes the scythe from his hands once more. Revoking access. Taking control.

You know better.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Maybe not, then. I didn't know a lot about her up until 4 months ago.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You've only given her four months, and she already reminds you of Dorey?

He sighs.

Darling, this attachment seems unhealthy. Maybe it's best for you to take a break from this Tabitha girl, hm?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She reminds me of you more.

He'll sound crazy if he elaborated. Tabitha was not their child. She wasn't, and he needed to stop thinking that.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Does she now? And why is that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She probably knows. She looks like you, and talks like you. She acts like me. Missed you like I did.

That was their daughter.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

he was missed.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Maybe not, then. I didn't know a lot about her up until 4 months ago.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You've only given her four months, and she already reminds you of Dorey?

He sighs.

Darling, this attachment seems unhealthy. Maybe it's best for you to take a break from this Tabitha girl, hm?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She reminds me of you more.

He'll sound crazy if he elaborated. Tabitha was not their child. She wasn't, and he needed to stop thinking that.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Does she now? And why is that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Maybe not, then. I didn't know a lot about her up until 4 months ago.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You've only given her four months, and she already reminds you of Dorey?

He sighs.

Darling, this attachment seems unhealthy. Maybe it's best for you to take a break from this Tabitha girl, hm?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You also gave her a bird nickname. Swallow, or Sparrow or something.

Something he'd only known from the test files. He'd been too afraid to confirm it with her.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling. Don't lie to me.

He never gives anyone nicknames. It's a waste of time. Time he doesn't have.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

It's a mildly startling switch, in his head. It makes his skin prickle.

You never heard the name? She knew you. I don't know a lot, in that regard, though.

He trails off, seeing a murder of crows in the street, poking at a corpse of something indistinguishable.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. The name rings a bell.

He looks at Alex with something in his eyes, but it's indistinguishable as to what.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

She's like a sister to me.

And only Crane would understand the severity of that, really. Only Jon would understand when he accidentally calls her Dorey. Only he would understand.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah.

And there it is: recognition. He's figured out why Alex is the way he is, and he's no longer poking and prodding, searching for answers. Now, instead of Dr Crane, Alex sees his husband. Jonathan. Jonny.

I see.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Mhm. I don't recall her last name.

I don't recall ever learning it. A little concerning. He always put Crane in the blank, subconsciously.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. And you are close?

He says it like he doesn't believe him. Like he thinks Alex is deluding himself. He probably is.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He lets out a stressed exhale, picking up. He never stops walking.

Yes?

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Where are you. I don't want him in my shop. I can't- I haven't done anything with it, he won't like it. I'll- where are you.

A shaky breath. She sounds like she's running.

Which house.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Penthouse. We're on 27th right now.

His hands flounder again. They're still covered in blood. Probably a good thing. If they weren't, he'd probably be pulling out his own hair.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

I'll meet you there.

She pauses. She's fucking scared. Her one fucking wish is finally here, and she's fucking scared of it. God fucking damn it Tabitha, get a grip. Don't hesitate. He leaves when you hesitate.

What's he like?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He's the same.

He glances over, still convincing himself that he's there. Irritatingly familiar. Achingly familiar.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Is he?

Does he ever stay the same? Does he remember her? Will he stroke her hair and call her Sparrow and make her feel whole again? Will he lock her in her room with only two discs for company? Will they be normal again?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Not the same. But he feels it.

Similar enough that she wants to throw up, she wants to help him, she wants to kill him, she wants to shout and she wants to sob in his arms. But he can't. That's not happening. Not now, not here, not again.

... His head hurt. He felt guilty, always did. It was amplified now. How do you beg for the one man that makes you feel helpless and then dare to want control? He glances over again. It's less worshipping. From holy reverence to theophobic.

How far away are you.

[stainedglass-mentalstate]

Fifteen if I can catch a cab. So probably 25.

Walking means more opportunities to turn around. to leave. But she can't leave Alex like this. She can't leave him with Jonathan.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Alright. Please stay safe.

They turn into an alley. They'd be maybe 20 minutes. Too short a walk and way too long to be alone with him. He'd be stuck in his head the whole time.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Mh. Tabitha?

He mutters. He's never spoken loudly, he knows how Alex hangs onto his words. There's certainly no need to shout.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

10:28 PM.

Wind moves the white sleeves and the burlap strip on Arsenic's scythe in time, as his figure perches over the site that all of the Arkham inmates had appeared around. The cops were below him, completely unaware, but he could hear the radio chatter, talking to Batman. He would be there at 1 AM to check on things, make sure nothing crazy was going down. He had to leave before then. But he watches still. Can't miss anything. Arsenic swooping down to nab someone wasn't new to the GCPD, they should learn to expect it. But none of them look up at the fire escapes, none notice the lurking figure that expelled fear.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Movement. Like a portal, opening up, throwing a disgruntled Jonathan on the ground. He looks just like his, only his scars are in different places, and he still had his left hand. Oh God. Oh..

No time to hesitate. The first cop to raise his radio dies, and the rest fall in tandem to Arsenic's blade. He feels nothing but eyes, guilt and hope on his being.

@hayfilled-heresy

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan's eyes are wild, pissed off in a way that he always was, and disoriented like they've never been. Arsenic can see the way her husband's face scrunches as he realizes where he is, what she's doing. She sees the annoyance and disgust on his face when he realizes his mask is nowhere to be found. He stands, brushing Gotham's dirt off the knees of his pants, straightening his tie. This is an interruption to his schedule, and he will not be having it.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Arsenic takes out every single cop in the area, not risking any reports of this making it to Gordon, and similarly, Bruce. He hadn't killed like this since Scarecrow last asked him to. He hadn't killed like this since before he was shot, before he said he would never kill again and he was nearly killed.

After every cop is dead and every radio is smashed, Arsenic heads straight back to Jonathan, like a faithful hunting dog. He looks almost impatient. Arsenic scans for any hint of approval he can grasp.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm. He can work with this. He looks to Arsenic with mild appreciation, letting her do her routine of checking him over per usual. She's dead, might as well leave her thos last comfort.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He takes off the mask to better look at him, simply staring in reverence for now. His hands are covered in blood. Usually he'd care more. That doesn't matter. Not right now. The only thing worrying him is Jon suddenly being torn away again, or maybe not being able to answer any of his questions, being useless —

He'd reach out, but he's scared.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Darling.

He looks at him like he's unwell. Like he looks at his patients at the psychiatrist's office. Like Alex should know the answer by now. The answer to what? What is he asking him to do right now?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Jonny. .?

Eugh, his voice comes out shaky and small. He's incapable of thinking properly. What did he want? God knows he'd get it, if only he could figure out what it was.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Yes, dear?

He sounds impatient. He always sounded impatient. That's just how he was.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He stares dumbly again for a second. Jesus. After a minute, he finally stops gawking at the other and looks at the bodies.

We should go. They'll notice that this site is unmanned soon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Correct.

His tie is askew. He looks so..... alive. it hurts.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

His hands flounder before finding his arm, too scared to grab his hand, and pulling him through the unfamiliar alleys, away from the scene.

[hayfilled-heresy]

He removes his arm from Alex's hold, walking freely beside him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They walk. Arsenic puts his mask back on the minute they're on a main street again, shielding. Walking on the inside of the sidewalk. It'd look domestic if it weren't so bizzare.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Jonathan walks with a purpose, shoulders back and posture prideful. An academic. Was this.... Is he still a psychologist?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He doesn't dare ask. He's coming up with a question. One that'll get him a view on Jon's world without seeming desperate to talk to him. Maybe a statement. Jesus, he feels like a teenager on a first date. This was stupid. They were married.

You're not wearing your ring.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You are.

The two words mean so much and so little at the same time.

Is there a problem with that?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

You have your hand, why wouldn't you wear it?

That might reveal too much. Shit.

[hayfilled-heresy]

You murder policemen. Why would you?

He raises an eyebrow, squinting at him.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

To protect you.

He doubts the answer was the same on his end.

[hayfilled-heresy]

I don't believe that is the comfort you were hoping to extend.

He follows Alex, but makes it seem like he's in charge. How the hell does he manage that? It's creepy, how easily he slots back into control.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He would've found us had I not killed them. Reinforcements arrive in an hour, and I didn't want any sign that you'd been there.

He huffs. Frustrating, but soothing. He didn't feel any pressure to actually be the leader here, and it made it easier to think. So long as Jon was in charge, he could stay calm. He could pretend this was normal.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

The silence stretches, and it's unbearable. Briefly, Alex questions where he's taking them both.

And you don't believe the twelve dead officers will alert my presence? very few rogues use scythes, darling.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I'm the only rogue alive that uses a scythe.

He mutters, briefly fixing the burlap tied on the staff of the weapon.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

He holds his hand out, asking silently for the scythe.

Where are you taking the both of us?

[arsenicisntmagpie]

He gives it to the other without question. Probably not a good idea.

One of my apartments. Or, um, the pottery shop.

A quiet hint to avoid outright asking about Tabitha. Maybe it'd ring a bell.

[hayfilled-heresy]

A... Pottery shop. How public.

His voice drawls, spinning the weapon in his hands, unraveling the burlap once more. Testing Alex. watching for his reaction.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Shut down. Tabitha stays there.

He offers, eyeing the other's hands, for a moment too long.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ah, you've made a friend.

He gives back the scythe, cloth strip on his hands.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

I have. I've made plenty.

Such an act of rebellion, Alex, really. How will he react? You aren't reliant on him. You'll get your net taken down, and you'll be alone. Shut up.

[hayfilled-heresy]

Hm.

Jonathan will have to fix that.

Then let us.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

They continue on. Alex sends a text, quickly, to Tabitha.

I have him. Are you sure you'd like to see him?

[hayfilled-heresy]

Ten minutes pass. She doesn't answer. Most she does is read the message.

[arsenicisntmagpie]

Great. Because she doesn't respond, he can't bring them to the shop. He needs to get them out of the street. His penthouse is close. Does he want to risk taking him there? What if Thea comes home? What if Ashtyn comes back from staying at a friends' early? What if Bruce swings by?

He starts leading him there anyway.

[hayfilled-heresy]

His phone rings. she's fucking calling him. Calling. Does he pick up?