Everything had gone wrong.
It had all been perfect up until those last five minutes. Everything had fallen into place—just like puzzle pieces, as his partner had boasted so proudly over the cowering victims. It had seemed that for once, things might just work out. That for once, they wouldn't be facing months back in Arkham again. And then he showed up. Just like he always did.
Crane dragged his semi-conscious ally into a back alley, laying him gently against the wall. He knelt down beside him, giving his colleague a quick squeeze to the shoulder for confidence. His ally replied with a low moan.
That god damned Bat. He had fucked everything up. It had all been going so well until the bastard and his little boy blunder had jumped into the scene. Normally, they could have slipped away in time, but there was a factor that they had never considered. Something that had caught them all completely off-guard.
Crane had managed to poison Robin pretty quickly, leaving the boy writhing on the ground and fighting off his delusions. But as he turned to face the caped crusader, something very new happened. Something Jon had never expected. With the Dark Knight there to give him confidence, one of the hostages had stood up. It had been a blur at the time; Jon had been focusing mostly on dodging the Bat's punches, while his partner quickly gathered the loot before they made their escape. But he had seen that man stand up, unaware of what he was about to do.
And then he saw the gun. And at the same time, he and the Bat had realized what was just about to happen. For a moment, he stood in complete shock as the man in the crowd raised the weapon and trained it on his partner. Batman had shoved Jon out of the way, shouting at the civilian to stop. But he was too late.
Three shots rang out, and Crane watched as his comrade was thrown back from the force, all three bullets hitting him square in the chest. For a moment, Jon didn't know what to do. Suddenly, he was completely numb to everything.
The Bat had run down to wrestle the armed civilian while Crane staggered over to his ally, staring as the blood pooled beneath his still body. He would never forget seeing all that blood. Even as a doctor, the sight had been shocking. The man's bright blue eyes had been wide and staring, blood oozing from his gaping mouth as Jon approached him. Crane had knelt beside him, listening as the man's rasping breaths became heavier and more labored. He coughed a little and more blood welled from his mouth. As a professional doctor, Jon knew he shouldn't move the body, but he had done what his instincts had told him to do. He had picked up the injured man and he had run… faster than he had ever run before.
And now… Crane looked down at his comrade.
…Now he was about to lose the closest thing he had ever had to a friend.
"Hey Scarecrow!" Crane winced as he heard the kids call after him as he trudged away from the school. He gripped his book tightly in his hand. He just had to pretend… pretend that he didn't hear. Maybe they would go away. A sudden thud on the back of his head sent a dull pain down his neck, reminding him that they never just went away. He stopped and reached a shaky hand to the back of his head. He winced as he touched the sore spot, pulling his fingers away to see small spots of blood.
Tears stung at his eyes as he twisted his head around to face the other kids. As he moved, another rock flew at him, hitting him in the cheek, just below his eye. He stumbled back from the impact.
"Haha, Scarecrow, you gonna cry?" One of the kids shouted, picking up another large rock. As he chucked it at Jon, he laughed cruelly and called for his friends to join in. Jon raised his arms to his face, trying to protect himself against the pelting rocks. He dropped his book and began to run, his skinny legs carrying him away as quickly as they could.
After about ten minutes, he gathered the courage to slow down, gasping for air. He glanced back, making sure that none of the kids had followed him, then looked up to see where his feet had carried him. An old abandoned barn loomed ominously over him. He smiled a little through his tears. He had always liked this place.
It was old, and the wood was rotting from the foundation. The children in the area wouldn't go near the place. They were all convinced that it was haunted—some rumor about a man killing his wife and children there before committing suicide. The other kids whispered about how the ghosts of the family sought revenge on anyone who stepped foot in the old horse barn. But Jon knew better than to believe in frivolous ghost stories. He knew what real fear was.
He peeked in one of the windows to make sure the barn was empty, then stepped over to the large barn doors. He pushed on the old door, slowly opening it, and breathed in the heavy scent of must and straw that overwhelmed him as he took a step inside. The barn was mostly dark, little patches of sunlight peeking through the holes of the collapsing roof. Jon looked about the room through blurred eyes, trying to find a hiding place; just to be safe. His eyes landed on old bales of hay stacked in the corners of the room, rotting away and evidently abandoned long ago.
Jon stumbled further into the room, letting the tears fall freely from his eyes. He fell to his knees, crawling into a small corner between bales of hay. He hugged his knees to his chest and buried his head, trying to stifle the sobs as they wracked his body. For several minutes he sat and cried, alone and scared.
"If you don't eat something, they're never gonna leave you alone." Jon quickly raised his head to find the source of the voice. His golden eyes stretched with fear as he saw a silhouette of another boy, probably about his age, leaning into the window of the barn.
"Ya dropped your book," The voice continued, the silhouette lazily raising an arm in the air, a book in hand. Without another word, the mysterious boy hopped through the window and landed on his knees. He stood up and brushed off his clothes, striding lazily over to Jon.
"Really, though. You should eat something. You're all skin and bones." As the boy drew closer, Jon got a better look at him. His tousled hair was a dusty brown with just a little hint of red, a stark contrast to his brilliant blue eyes. He wore a small green shirt with worn down jeans that looked to be about three sizes too big for his small frame. A large, goofy grin was slapped on the boy's face, revealing a large gap in the top right, where he was missing a tooth. The boy had dirt around his eye and on his cheek, making him look all the more ridiculous. He reached towards Jon, who cowered, fearing that the boy was going to hit him.
The boy's smile slowly faded as Jon cringed at his hand.
"Hey… I'm not gonna hurt you." He said, slightly offended. He extended his hand to help Jon up. "I just wanna help." Jon eyed him carefully, then hesitantly took the boy's hand. The boy's smile instantly returned to his face as Jon got to his feet, wiping away his tears
"The name's Edward, but you can just call me Eddie." He offered his hand for a shake, and Jon took it, still stunned with disbelief. "And you're Scarecrow, right?"
"Jon…" Jonathan mumbled quietly. He couldn't believe someone was actually being nice to him.
"Alright, Jonny boy." Eddie offered the book to Jon. "As I was saying, you dropped this." He watched as Jon took the book back. "That's some pretty heavy reading you've got there. Not something most of the kids our age would read." He grinned. "Of course, I have." Jon watched the boy curiously, examining him. He noticed now that the dirt around Eddie's eye was actually a bruise.
"What happened to your eye?" He asked sheepishly. Eddie's smile faltered.
"What made you want to read James Joyce?" Eddie asked, ignoring Jon's question. "I mean, Ulysses I can understand, but Finnegan's Wake…?" He cocked his head to the side, waiting for an answer.
"I…" Jon paused, realizing that Eddie must have changed the subject for a reason. "…It's the only book Great Granny Keeny didn't find… She doesn't like me reading…" Eddie's smile quickly faded as the revelation hit him.
"Oh… I didn't realize…" He lowered his eyes to the ground, trailing off. He paused for a moment, scuffling his foot and kicking dirt into the air. "Well..." He said, putting an arm around Jon's shoulders. "If you promise to play along with me, I'll lend you some of my books." He smiled mischievously, and Jon forced a hesitant smile in return.
"Uh… play along?" Eddie nodded and smiled.
"Where I'm from, nobody'll play with me…" He scratched his head, "but since my father's thinking about moving us down here for the summer… I'd like someone to play with me." Jon smiled reluctantly.
"Play what?" Eddie hopped back from Jon, his lips pulling back into a broad grin.
"Riddles, of course!"
"Riddles?" Jon asked, somewhat surprised.
"Yeah! Like… What can you catch but not throw?" Jon took a moment to think about it.
"A cold." Eddie clapped his hands.
"Right! What's black and white, and read all over?"
"A sunburned skunk." Jon smiled back, enjoying himself. "Or a newspaper."
"You're very good at this! Let's see… what's one of my harder ones… ah! What goes around the world but stays in a corner?" He asked excitedly, his blue eyes wide and full of life.
"Uh…" Jon struggled, he hadn't ever heard that one before. "I… I don't know, what?" Eddie let out a small giggle.
"Aw, you were doing so well! But you'll learn. It's a stamp." He stretched, looking out the window at the fading afternoon light. He let out a long sigh before looking back at Jonathan. "I've gotta go… my Dad doesn't like it when I'm out too late…" He frowned a little, but swiftly replaced it with a smile. "It was nice meetin' ya Jonny-boy. Hopefully my dad'll decide to stay here. Bye!" He waved a short goodbye, then scooted away before Jon could say anything.
Jon watched the boy scurry off, leaving him with a very new feeling.
Happiness.
Jon listened closely as the pursuing cops ran past the small alley, unaware that the two had taken shelter in the shadows. They sat in silence for several moments, Crane pushing against the wounds to stop the bleeding with one hand, and covering the man's mouth so he wouldn't cry aloud with the other. He strained to listen as the footsteps faded into the distance. It seemed that they were safe.
"Hold on, Eddie." Crane shifted to look at him, his golden eyes darting about and examining his friend. Quickly, he reached in his bag—a pouch he kept with him during all heists—and pulled out a pair of scissors. He briskly began to cut the layers of blood-stained clothes from Eddie's chest. He prayed that the wounds weren't as bad as they seemed….
As Jon pulled the last shreds of Eddie's tattered clothes away, he felt his heart sink. Two of the bullets had hit his shoulder—not too much of a problem. They had stopped bleeding now, and Crane would be able to clean, then cauterize the wounds without too much trouble.
But the third bullet was more serious. Much more serious. The third bullet had hit him in the lung. This was something only a trained medical doctor would be able to handle. Crane was a trained psychologist with many talents, but medical treatment was not one of the stronger ones.
In a rare moment, Jon didn't know what to do. He had absolutely no control. Eddie wouldn't make it to a hospital… he had lost too much blood already. But Jon didn't have the supplies to save him. He was completely helpless.
He wasn't going to give up, though. He wasn't going to let Eddie go without even trying. Carefully he examined the lung wound. Though he wasn't trained as a surgeon, he had done a fair share of dabbling in the medical field. Enough to know that he was Eddie's last hope.
He sat, his mind reeling as he tried to steady his shaking hands. He laid his burlap sack on the ground and began rummaging through his supplies. He pulled out scalpels and several other tools, preparing to operate on his friend.
It wouldn't be the first time… and he was praying it wouldn't be the last.
Jon sat in his room, huddled in the blankets on his bed. Excitedly, he poured over the book in his small hands—a new book Eddie had lent him.
Eddie's father had decided to move here, though for how long Eddie didn't know. He and Jon had begun to meet up in secret—Jon answering endless riddles in exchange for some of Eddie's books. They enjoyed their time together, and for the first time, Jonathan wasn't miserable and alone….
For the first time in his life…he had a friend.
Even Great Granny Keeny's cruel punishments couldn't break his spirit. Whenever he was thrown in the aviary, he would just cower and bear the sharp beaks of the vicious crows. All he had to do was remind himself that this would pass, and that there was someone who cared now… someone who didn't want to hurt him.
Because most importantly, out of everything Eddie had brought into Jon's life, he had taught Jon to be strong. He didn't know how, but Eddie always managed to smile. No matter how far Jon sank into despair, Eddie would be there with an open hand. He would always pull Jon back up to the surface.
Eddie had become his hero.
Jon, lost in his book, didn't hear the noise at first. It was a soft stir, growing louder as it approached the looming mansion. When he finally did hear the noise, he sat stock still under his covers. His first thoughts were that Great Granny Keeny was awake. He held his breath in anticipation as he listened for the familiar creaking footsteps in the hallway.
He soon realized that the murmur was coming from outside. A soft whisper of leaves… it sounded as though someone was walking through the cornfield. Curious, Jon crawled over to the window, peeking over the sill to survey the ground below. He scanned the yard, but saw nothing more than shadows. The noise seemed to have stopped. Shrugging it off, he started to leave the window. He paused as a moving shadow caught his eye.
He couldn't see much more than silhouettes, but he continued to watch. A small form, apparently injured, hobbled towards the cornfield… slinking through the shadows. Jon watched as the shadow dragged itself into the field, disappearing between stalks of corn.
Burning with curiosity, Jon quickly threw on his jacket and snuck down to the main room. It wouldn't be his first time sneaking out—Granny Keeny had always been a heavy sleeper. Quietly, he unlocked the front door and slipped out, heading directly for the cornfield.
As he reached the edge of the field, he noticed something wet and sticky on the leaves of some of the cornstalks. He stepped over and examined the substance, his eyes stretching wide as he realized it was blood. Whoever it had been was in serious trouble. As he looked up at the surrounding stalks, he realized that the shadow had left him a very clear trail of blood to follow.
He fought with himself, wondering if he should wake Granny Keeny. If this person was in serious need of medical attention, there would be nothing he could do. However, after considering the consequences, he decided to get to the bottom of this mystery himself.
Jon followed the zig-zag path, seemingly leading nowhere. But as he approached the edge of the cornfield, he felt a knot form in his stomach. The shadow was heading straight for the aviary. If they were bleeding already…. Jon felt a rush of energy as he burst into the clearing.
The shadow quickly whipped around, hand clasped on the aviary door handle.
"Don't-!" Jon called out, heart filling with dread as the silhouette panicked, pulled the door open, and darted inside. Adrenaline rushing through his system, Jon chased after. He could see the crows circling ahead already. With only a moment's pause, he opened the door and ran inside.
In his first step, he stumbled over the body of a small boy curled up on the ground. Scrambling to sit up, he couldn't hide his shock as he recognized the shadow.
"…Eddie?" The boy looked up weakly, blue eyes filled with terror.
"J-Jon…?" He replied shakily. "What are you doing here-?" A loud caw from a crow startled both of them. Instinctively, Jon straddled Eddie, shielding him from the sky. "Jon, what are you- " Eddie began to protest. He was cut short as a large crow swooped down at the two boys, talons outstretched.
Eddie watched in horror as the bird grabbed onto Jon, tugging and tearing at the boy's clothes and skin. Jon let out a small cry of pain but continued to shield Eddie from the bird. Another bird dove at them, ripping at Jon's back. He bit his lip, as the talons stung his skin. He wouldn't let Eddie get hurt. Not after everything Eddie had done for him.
Thinking quickly on his feet, Eddie grabbed Jon and scrambled for the door. The crows were everywhere now, whizzing about and screeching loudly in the boys' ears. Eddie, dragging Jon along, pulled at the door and raced out into the open. The boys charged into the cornfield in hopes of losing the merciless birds.
A few crows followed, swooping low with their talons scraping the tips of the stalks but pulling away before reaching the fleeing boys. As the last bird gave up and flew off, the boys collapsed in the field. Both were shaking and gasping for breath.
"What… what the hell was that?" Eddie asked, bewildered as he regained his wits.
"Granny Keeny…" Jon started, coughing. "She… trained them… to attack me…" Eddie's blue eyes stretched even wider. They both breathed heavily as they caught their breath, silence falling over them.
"This… is where you live?" Eddie asked quietly, still shaken.
"…Yeah." Jon replied, wincing as the scrapes on his back stung. "…What are you doing here?" He asked, turning to get a good look at his friend. He held his breath at what he saw.
In the aviary everything had been too much of a blur to see him clearly, but as Jon looked at him now, he couldn't help but let out a little gasp. The boy's face was bruised, blood trickling down from his crooked and broken nose. His hand clutched at his shoulder, which was soaked in blood.
"Eddie, what happened?" Jon whispered in horror. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip in apparent pain.
"Out of all the stories you told me about, Jon… Jesus, I never imagined anything like this..." Jon narrowed his eyes.
"Eddie, what happened?" He demanded again. But his friend wouldn't answer. "Eddie, you have to get some help… does your dad know you're hurt? We should get him, and go to the hospital, Eddie, this is dang— "
"No!" Eddie shouted. He lowered his eyes in shame. "No, don't you dare tell anyone."
"But your Dad— " Jon argued.
"Especially not him!" Eddie retorted angrily. Jon watched as tears slid down Eddie's cheeks. He felt his stomach lurch as he realized what Eddie had been hiding all this time. A strong wave of sympathy crashed over Jon as he realized what Eddie had been doing here: he had been trying to run away from home. Trying to escape his father.
"Eddie, let me look." Jon said softly, reaching for his friend's arm. Gently, he pulled Eddie's hand from his injured shoulder. He furrowed his brow as he saw the wound.
"This… this is a knife wound…. Eddie, this is going to need stitches." Eddie pulled away.
"No, I'm not going to a hospital. I've had worse before… this is nothing." Jon shook his head.
"I… I've been reading a little about first aid…I…I think I can do it." Eddie looked down at his shoulder, quickly covering it again with his hand. He let out a resigned sigh.
"…Fine…" Jon helped Eddie to his feet, leading him through the cornfield towards the house, holding his hand for support.
"We'll have to be quiet… Granny Keeny will have our heads if she hears us. I just hope the birds didn't wake her up already." Jon trailed off, looking back at Eddie. "Hang in there, Eddie…" He mumbled. Eddie followed Jon blindly through the field, silently letting Jon lead him to safety.
"…Thank you…" He said quietly as they neared the mansion. Jon smiled sympathetically, turning back. His orange eyes, glowing in the soft moonlight, met with Eddie's.
"Anything for my friend."
The first two bullet wounds had gone well. Crane had surprised himself; he had been able to quickly dress and cauterize the wounds, something he had never done before. It seemed like everything was going well… that maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to save Eddie's life.
And then he had started with the third bullet.
It was a delicate procedure. Eddie's lung was most likely already filled with blood, and removing the bullet would only exacerbate the inflammation. He had examined the wound, trying to concentrate as Eddie slipped in and out of consciousness, babbling on about nothing.
"Hang in there, Ed." He had said as he reached for the scalpel. "Stay with me."
He had operated and managed to remove the bullet, but not without consequence. Jon hadn't had the supplies to fix the lung properly, but he had hoped that it would be enough. As he moved to cauterize the wound, Eddie jerked awake.
Crane struggled with Eddie as he screamed in pain, the untreated wound in his chest beginning to ooze blood.
"Eddie. Eddie!" Jon hissed, trying to calm the struggling man. Without warning, Eddie began a violent fit of coughs, blood foaming from his mouth and dripping sickeningly to the floor. Jon placed a hand on his back for support, pressing his hand against the one bullet wound.
When the coughs died down, Eddie turned to Jon. His blue eyes were dull, barely opened.
"Jon…" He tried, blood dribbling down his chin.
"Eddie, don't-" Jon argued.
"Thank…. You." Eddie interrupted, smiling weakly. "For… everything." He coughed again, and wheezed. He fell forward, losing consciousness.
"Goddammit, Eddie." Jon cursed, his eyes beginning to water. "No... Eddie, please." He checked his pulse. It was weak… he could barely feel it. Blood trickled down from Eddie's mouth, and Jon reached a shaky hand to wipe it away. Crane watched his breathing… it was labored, his chest fighting to rise and fall with each breath.
"Don't you die on me, Edward. Don't you dare." He growled, praying that somehow, they'd get out of this. But a part of him knew that there was no happy ending to come. There never had been for him.
"Please, Eddie… Don't... " He pleaded as he pulled Eddie's body gently into his own. "I don't want to be alone again. Please… don't leave me."
The two young boys sat in silence, watching the sun set beneath the dark horizon. Jon had known something was wrong from the second Eddie had arrived. His normal mischievous smile had been replaced with a long frown, the lively sparkle in his eyes dull. His left eye was swollen and a slight tint of purple had begun to shade the area around it. His lip was busted, a small smear of blood on his chin.
Jon knew better than to ask—Eddie would tell him in his own time. Or not. But he knew that this time, something was very wrong. It hurt to look at Eddie... His spirit seemed to have finally broken.
"Was… was it your dad again?" Jon asked meekly, as the fading light drained from the evening sky. Eddie ignored the question, and they sat in silence for a few more minutes.
"I'm leaving." Eddie said quietly, without looking away from the sky. Jonathan felt his heart sink.
"Wh-what? You can't leave! You're the only friend I have here!" Eddie shook his head, his blue eyes glassy with tears he was forcing back.
"You think I have a choice?" He looked at Jon with his sapphire eyes, a deep sadness and… fear… shadowing his expression.
"Just… just run away!" Jon pleaded desperately, feeling his own eyes brim with tears. "You can't… Please…. You're the only one who cares…" Eddie sniffed, wiping his eyes.
"You know I can't do that." He paused as a tear ran down his cheek. "…He'd kill me." He added with a defeated smile.
A dark silence fell over the two, and the cold night air began to settle over them. Jon felt his hair rise on end, his worn out clothes providing little protection against the cool evening air. Both boys sat, sniffling.
"…When?" Jon asked, hugging his knees to his body.
"Tomorrow." Eddie replied blankly.
They sat for another hour quietly watching the night sky darken and the stars begin to appear one-by-one, dotting the inky sky. The night was still, the only movement a soft summer breeze whispering through the trees and caressing the boys' hair. As the stars grew bright and the moon began to peek over the trees, Edward stood up and brushed off his dirty clothes.
Jon stood up next to him and looked at Eddie…the only friend he had ever had.
"Will… will we ever see each other again?" He asked Eddie solemnly, looking down at the ground to hide his eyes.
"Hey…" Eddie reached over and lifted Jon's chin gently with his finger. "Chin up, ok?" Eddie's cheeks were wet with tears, but Jon could see that he was trying to be strong. "You're gonna be fine, you hear me, Johnny boy?"
"But what about you…"
"Don't worry about me, Jon." He smiled sadly at his emaciated friend. "… I'll take care of myself. Jus'… don't let Granny Keeny get the better of you." He paused. "And for God's sake eat something. Scarecrow's a good name for ya. You're all skin and bones." Jon sniffed as he unsuccessfully fought back tears.
"Eddie… keep yourself safe." Eddie smiled softly.
"You too, Jon." The boys embraced, Jon hugging his friend tightly to him. He felt Eddie wince… the bruises were still fresh and sore, but his friend didn't say anything. Instead, he pulled away, and both boys rubbed their eyes as Eddie began to walk slowly down the hill back to his house.
He stopped, about thirty feet away and turned to Jon. "Hey, Scarecrow!" Jon looked up from the ground to see Eddie grinning through his tears.
"You're not alone, Jon. Riddle me this, what do you call the family we choose?" Jon replied within a heartbeat.
"Friends!" He called out, more tears rolling from his eyes.
"You were the best one I ever had, Jon. As long as I'm alive, you're never gonna be alone. Ya' hear me now? Don't you ever forget that!" And with that, Eddie turned and ran down the hill towards, quickly fading from sight.
Jon watched his friend disappear into the darkness. He felt the familiar loneliness creep over him as he stood beneath their favorite tree. But as long as Eddie was somewhere out there, he was never truly alone. He knew that.
And he would never forget it.
As long as Eddie was around… there was hope.
This was written in response to a really amazing picture on tumblr.
You can find it under the url amhil on tumblr. I'd link it, but unfortunately that's not allowed. :(
Anyway, I hope you guys like it~