marlowemuses | Fear and Adrenaline, for doctor

Ashley laughed, sharp with petulance and cruelty. A servant brought him a cappuccino, and Ashley trailed his fingertip through the white foam on top. "Do I ever feel unusual? I'm frivolous, Mr. Crane," he paused to give the doctor a bland, fake smile, in case there was any doubt about the mistake in title being intentional, "not stupid. I'm remarkably unusual, all of which ought to be obvious even to someone as obtuse as you are. I'm too wealthy, too beautiful, and far too macabre to be normal."

Crane wanted to tell Ashley that he counted himself lucky he wasn't dealing with the likes of the other rogues from Gotham. But he had an image and secret identity to maintain.

"Clearly, not stupid," Crane's tone didn't change once, keeping professional. "Clearly not well either. I think your mother would agree with me that you need some serious help once I'm done speaking with her after our little talk."

Ashley's face fell, nervous fear flickering through his eyes at the prospect. He didn't like the suggestion that there was something wrong with him, and he certainly didn't like the prospect of having anything about his personality changed. Particularly not at the hands of the unpleasant psychologist in front of him. "I don't need or want any help from you, Mr. Crane."

Rising to his feet, Ashley lifted his chin, lovely and proud. "I don't know whether you're interested in my beauty or my parents' money, but you'll just have to find some other client or victim for your services. Get out."

Crane set his coffee aside and stood up as well. He wasn't very tall, but he did his best to look imposing.

"How about this then? Either you agree to my terms, or I have you shipped off to an out-of-state bedlam house with one of the worst track records in patient wellness on the Eastern Seaboard. Play along, and you'll at least be treated well." In truth, Arkham had long been abandoned for over a year, but he needed a way to scare Ashley.

"What terms?" Ashley demanded. He glared angrily, trying to hide the way his heart was pounding in terror at the possibility that he might be able to make good on his threat. "You think my parents are really going to fall for anything as stupid as your threats? They adore me. There's nothing wrong with me."

"It's quite simple, really," Crane replied. "I convince your mother that you need help, and you come to live with me for a while. I don't have servants and my house is not as large as this, but it is comfortable and your mother and father will be allowed to send you an allowance. Just know that running away will have severe consequences."

He inched closer, until Ashley could almost feel his breath. "So, what is it going to be? Relative comfort and safety, or a place where they serve you stale bread and microwaved soup for lunch?"

Ashley glared furiously at the doctor, cheeks flushed with anger and fear. "I have very dangerous friends, Mr. Crane. They will find me, anywhere you try to take me, and they will eviscerate you for the trouble. Get out now and we won't have to see about making you find out all your pitiful fears."

Crane smirked, having some idea of who Ashley was talking about. "I'm not afraid of them. It isn't as if you have a choice here anyway. You'll find that I can be very persuasive."

He left Ashley for now, tracking down his mother. It was just as he feared, he told her. Her son needed his help, and it would require constant attention. Ashley would have to live with him for a while, but he was feeling so generous that he would only charge for actual sessions in his in-home office and not every hour Ashley spent in his house. There really was no other option, he feared.

Once that was over, Crane left the mansion, saying that they could send him Ashley at their leisure.

Ashley threw a fit. He accused Crane of everything true, and a few melodramatic suspicions, including rape. His mother was furious that Ashley would say such slander against an upstanding and reputable doctor of such high renown. His father warmed very quickly to the idea as similar to a boarding school, since Ashley was too old for boarding school and could not be convinced to enroll in college, and thought that the discipline would be just what Ashley needed. They were both very pleased that their son might be the subject of a scientific study--"it could save lives!" "he means to rape me, are you not listening?"--and, better, that their wayward and effeminate son might be improved into a more upstanding young gentleman.

No amount of yelling or tears would sway them, and Ashley's hysterics only served to further convince his parents that the doctor's suggestion was all for the best. His bags were packed and Ashley was guarded, until he could be packed into a car and sent away to his fate.

Crane got the call that the Raventons had agreed to let Ashley stay with him, as he knew they would. He'd had that family pegged the moment he met them.

He got his guest bedroom prepared and made sure his civilian face was on before going outside to await Ashley's arrival. The doctor grinned as he saw the car pull up and Ashley's escorts guide the young man to the house.

Crane's house was small compared to the Raventon mansion, but it was still a big, and very nice house. It was two stories tall, and the outside was dark colored, with ivy climbing the iron fence that surrounded the place. Crane told the movers he'd hired where they could take Ashley's things as he guided the young man inside. "What would you say to a little tour, Master Raventon?"

The house was very nice, Ashley noticed, just the right amount of comfortable and gothic, but he glared at it and his escorts and his hosts. His mood changed at the prospect of his guard leaving, so he begged the man to stay for the tour, hoping to encounter some evidence of the awful doom he was sure awaited him.

"You won't mind, will you, Mr. Crane?" Ashley said, trying to hide his fear behind a fake smile.

Crane could see that hint of fear. He liked it. "Right this way."

The inside of the house was rather gothic in its decor, with dark flooring and wallpaper, and even his furniture had dark colors to it. Crane showed Ashley the kitchen and dining room, telling him that he was free to make himself a snack anytime he wanted. After showing the den, and where the bathroom was, he took Ashley to his favorite room: the library.

Bookshelves lined every wall, packed with all manner of books, from textbooks, to nonfiction, to novels. Strangely enough, one wall between two bookshelves was bare, with only two small paintings hanging there. Next to the couch in the center of the room was a sculpture on a pedestal. The sculpture was that of a simple human skull. Closer inspection of this skull would reveal a strange seam along the cranium.

"You may use this room to your content," Crane told Ashley. "All I ask is that you not mix up my books, do not leave them open with the spine up, and do not touch any of the artwork."

The library caught Ashley's attention, because he couldn't resist books. The collection fascinated him--fear and horror, from the real to the literary, and all of it in excellent taste. He couldn't conceal his temptation and interest, despite his lingering resentment.

He walked to the skull, hesitating briefly because it might count as "artwork", but then he picked it up anyway, feeling more than a little defiant. "Whose skull was this?"

"Nobody you knew," Crane said, taking the skull from Ashley's hands and setting it back down carefully. The skull contained the remote button that opened up the wall in the library that revealed the secret chamber where he kept his Scarecrow outfit. He didn't want it falling and breaking, or flipping open on accident. "Just an old friend. Come, upstairs awaits."

Crane led his guest up the stairs, pointing to the hallway that led to Crane's bedroom. "Stay out of my room, and my office, unless I say so." He next led Ashley to the room he'd be staying in. It was a modest size, and he'd bought nice sheets for his bed.

"Where's the torture dungeon where you'll be chaining me down and raping me?" Ashley asked, in his most sweetly conversational tone. The room was far too modest for his tastes, and there wasn't nearly enough luxury to pacify his temper. "Do you do this a lot? Lure young men away from their families and convince everyone that their protestations of being abused are merely symptoms of their disease?"

"I'm afraid not. You're special that way," Crane snarked. "I think you'll come to like it here. Just as long as you get used to not having any servants at your beck and call." The only worker Crane hired was a guy to mow his lawn every week.

One of the movers tapped him on the shoulder and asked when to expect payment. He'd left his checkbook in his office, so he excused himself from Ashley's company. "Why don't you get settled in while I take care of this?"

"My boyfriend's going to tear off your cock and feed it to you!" Ashley called after him, fuming.

His guard gave him a sympathetic look and left him alone, which gave Ashley the opportunity to start testing for unlocked windows and escape routes.

Crane resisted the urge to snicker. He wondered how soon he should tell the boy.

Once the mover was paid and sent away, Crane returned to Ashley's room. "You'll find escape impossible," He said. "You might as well accept that this will be your home for a while. Be good and I may allow this boyfriend of your's to visit."

"Go to hell," Ashley snapped. He was scared and exhausted, curled up in a chair in his room with his head in his arms to hide his scared, childish tears. The doors and windows all looked innocuous, but they were secure, and he was a prisoner.

Crane almost felt sorry for him. "If you want dinner, I have leftovers in the freezer for tonight. I can fix you a proper meal tomorrow."

He left Ashley to sulk for now, going downstairs to heat up a bit of leftover chicken. Perhaps once the sun went down he'd dawn his "nighttime attire". Once he'd eaten he went up to his room to get a couple hours of sleep, setting his phone to wake him up around ten.

Perplexed when nothing awful was done to him, Ashley cried himself dry after a few hours, until he was finally hungry and curious enough to go down to the kitchen. He put food into the microwave, poking around as it heated up. He considered the knives, but since he hadn't been hurt or molested yet, and because there was access to knives, he left them alone.

Finally he found a small wine cellar and helped himself, pouring a large glass and taking both wine and food up to his room. He crept out again, briefly, to fetch a book from the library. Everything seemed quiet, as though his captor wasn't even home. It felt like a false sense of security, and he watched the shadows, leaving on all the lights as he went through rooms.

Crane's alarm went off right at ten, and he promptly got up, still wearing the clothes he went to sleep in. Ashley's room was closed, so he assumed the boy had fallen asleep. Then he went downstairs and saw that the lights were on. So the boy had chosen to go exploring.

He turned the library light back off and made sure the coast was clear before going over to the skull and opening the cranium. As usual, the button within activated the empty wall, which split open to reveal his Scarecrow attire. Not even bothering to look around, Crane slowly peeled his false face off.

[I don't want Ashley to find out quite yet. Not when there's so much opportunity to toy with him with Crane.]

After having eaten and drunk his fill, Ashley curled up in the soft chair in his room, falling asleep quickly. He was exhausted and scared, cheeks stained with tears, and he had realized too late that he'd left no way for the Scarecrow to find him.

[kk]

Crane changed into his Scarecrow outfit and slowly crept up to Ashley's room, finding it unlocked. The younger man was asleep, just as he'd found him the night before.

Scarecrow approached Ashley, running his fingers down his arm. "Wake up, lovely."

Ashley winced awake, very on edge, and then saw the Scarecrow and gasped in surprise and hope. He launched himself into Scarecrow's arms, clinging and whimpering. "You came for me. I didn't know if you'd be able to find me."

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