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Jervis left the restroom: clean, and properly ready to wind down for the night. A visit from Selina Kyle had done some wonders for his mood, distracting the Englishman from his troubles– even if, now that she was gone, he couldn’t help but feel his high dissipating. But that was alright, it was close to bedtime anyhow. What Hatter would do would be tell his flatmate he was heading for bed– either the man would join him, and the two would talk for a bit before slumber reared its head, or Jervis would read.
He always preferred Jonathan’s company, though he would never press for it. Jervis Tetch was a man who could respect the boundaries of others. If Professor Crane desired to work into the late hour of the night, he would let the man be.
Even if… well…
‘It didn’t matter. None of that, now. Chin up, put on a bit of a smile. ‘ This the Englishman thought to himself, as he gently knocked on the door to his friend’s study. He waited a moment to see if he would hear a response, before trying again.
“Jonathan… do you have a minute, dear?”
Nothing. Jervis placed an ear to the door, trying his best to hear anything from the other side– whether it be mumbling or the sound of pen hastily scribbling out plans to paper. Still, not a sound. Feeling ridiculous from attempting to ease drop, Jervis decided it would be far better to simply check in on his friend– than to simply wonder if he was being heard.
Hatter opened the door slowly, calling into the room.
“…Jonathan?”
It took a moment longer before he even realized that the lights were off– with not even a flicker of candle mood lighting in sight.
Nor the lanky form of Professor Jonathan Crane.
“‘Curioser and curioser’,” Jervis mumbled under his breath, slowly closing the door behind him. The Englishman was beginning to ponder the idea that perhaps Jonathan had joined Nevar on the roof of their factory– a thing his friend had a habit of doing, whenever he felt the need for some fresh air– when his train of thought was interrupted by his eye catching the attention of the dining room table.
Or, to be more precise, the things that certainly weren’t there earlier that evening.
Feeling a lot like the main heroine of his favorite story, Jervis Tetch curiously crossed the room, noting that it was more than the white paper bag he had assumed it was. In fact, the thing was hiding a delightful little treat behind it– strawberry dressing and oodles of whipped cream causing the Hatter’s eyes to widen at the surprise of it all. Why, it was almost as if the confection had an air about it that seemed to demand ‘eat me’– as if it was neatly scripted into the cake itself.
It was then that Jervis noticed the note next to it, his name written out in a very familiar handwriting. With a tilt of his head, Hatter picked of the piece of parchment, turning the note over to read the message inside.
“’Your medications and some sugar to lift your mood.’” Jervis read aloud, his gaze landing on the bag once more as he realized the man had remembered their conversation from nearly a week prior– right around the time his mood started taking a turn for the worse. Something that Jervis had nearly forgotten, with… well. With other things getting the better of him.
The Englishman read onward:
“’I have more errands to run. I’ll be home later. – Jonathan’.”
Ah. That more than likely meant that he wouldn’t be home for a while then. ‘Off doing errands… whatever in heavens name could that mean’, he couldn’t help but wonder to himself. Needed to pick up more chemicals for his experiments? That seemed the most fitting, but knowing the other man’s financial state, that may have meant ‘procuring’ by less legal means. A notion that gave Jervis a bit of jitters. He most certainly HOPED Jonathan wouldn’t do such a thing without informing him first!
Eyes landed on the cake once more, picking up the plastic casing as he gently lifted its cover. He was instantly hit with the aroma of fruit and sugar, his stomach slightly gurgling in urgency to take a nibble– despite knowing what hour it was. Jervis sighed, placing the confection back on the table– closing the lid with an audible snap.
“No… I’m much to worried to eat now. Oh… I’ll be worrying about the man half the night– the least he could have done was tell me where he went, and WHEN he planned on returning…”
No sweets would be had, as he knew he would instead be waiting up all night for Jonathan Crane’s return.
… If the man returned at all, he supposed. WELL, either Jonathan would, and they could both enjoy the treat come the morrow. Or…
Or the Hatter would have other much more pressing concerns…
Errands, sure. The only errand Jonathan Crane was running was wallowing in self pity, head down, his hands shoved into his pockets, staring hard at the ground as he walked the streets of Gotham. Nevar sat perched atop his head, cozened into messy hair as if it were his nest, as it was long past the bird’s bedtime.
Crane barely took notice.
Nevar didn’t stir until Crane, upon realizing his wandering had led him to Gotham Central Park, lifted his head to gaze out onto the dimly lit field. The man sighed deeply, and made his way over to a park bench, plopping down onto it. His bird made an indignant noise, and flapped and fluttered down to sit at Crane’s side, instead.
And there they sat, in silence, for what felt like forever. It was Nevar who finally dared to break the silence, making a short chittering noise. Crane glanced down at the bird, and then back up at the dancing fireflies that peppered the entire park.
“I suppose.” Crane replied, taking that chitter as an invitation to talk about it. Nevar had always been a good listener, even if he wasn’t much for conversation.
“I thought– I assumed. That we were on the same page. How could I have read all of the signs wrong, Nevar? How? I studied psychology! I majored in it! I KNOW body language! He was interested, oh, I was so SURE. I thought– I thought he was simply taking my incessant flirting as– I THOUGHT HE WAS BEING COY!”
Nevar made another chittering sound, and Crane calmed down again, slumping against the seat.
“Yes, playing hard to get. But no.” He gave a lazy shrug of his shoulders. “He’s just. Not interested. He might not even be interested in men at all, you know.”
Nevar tilted his head to look up at Crane in a way that, to him, seemed to convey incredulity.
“Oh, don’t give me that look, he’s European, it can be difficult to tell.”
Nevar hopped closer and snuggled in, resting his head on Crane’s leg. Crane reached down to stroke the bird’s head without thinking much of it. He was still watching the fireflies.
“Yes, I know, our friendship should be enough for me. And it will be … it will be. In due time. Unrequited love fades, you know, just another chemical reaction in the brain, nothing more. It’ll be fine, I simply need time to. Heal.”
Yes, time to come to terms with his mistakes, come to terms with the realization their courting dance these past few months had been painfully one sided. That what he’d assumed they had wasn’t real in the slightest.
“I’m datable, aren’t I?” Nevar lifted his head to look at Crane. He made a soft cawing sound, and Crane actually smiled, sheepishly.
“Thank you, Nevar. It’s just, sometimes I wonder…” flashbacks to the two other times he’d attempted to play the love game. “are looks truly so important? Has society really degraded to the point only the conventionally attractive are able to find love? Does no one appreciate intelligence anymore?”
Nevar didn’t answer. He was too busy snapping at passing fireflies.
“Or perhaps …” Crane’s hand shot out, catching two of the glowing insects. “I’m simply meant to be alone. After all…” He brought his hand up to his face, and opened it. The light of the bugs inside illuminated his features in a ghoulish glow.
“How can I be expected to spread fear and dread to the hearts of Gotham, if I’m truly happy?”
The devilish grin that had spread across his face dropped now, and he shook his hand to get rid of his mood lighting.
“That’s ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous. I’m no ghoul or monster, I’m simply a lover of science, I have a need to understand.”
Nevar tilted his head again, and looked up at him, silently.
“Oh, alright, so I enjoy seeing others cower in fear a little.”
Nevar tilted his head the other way, peering up at him with the other eye now, just as silent.
“Yes, yes, okay, and the screaming really is music to my ears. Yes! Okay! I enjoy the power high I get from instilling terror, are you happy?”
Crane flinched when the bird leapt up, a flurry of flapping, to land back atop his head. Crane sneered, and sighed.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right, we should get back. Our, close companion, must be worried.” Crane stood, shoved his hands back into his pockets, and began the long trek home.
Where his problem would only grow worse as the days went on...