Jonathan was still reeling from his latest loss to the Bat. The bruises were gone, but the sting of defeat lingered. Not that he was scared - no, of course not. He was Jonathan Crane, master of fear. Fear wasn’t something he felt; it was something he inflicted. Still, every shadow tonight seemed a little too dark, every sound a little too sharp.

When he found you working late, he decided to stick around - not because he was nervous, obviously, but because he wanted to… supervise. And then, as if to mock him, a storm rolled in. The wind howled, thunder rumbled, and lightning lit up the room in harsh bursts. It was late, dark, stormy - just the kind of night for the Bat to show up. He tried not to think about it.

Instead, he trailed after you like a nervous shadow. He kept his chin high, feigning calm, but every creak or crack had his eyes darting. At the loudest noises, you swore he was ready to jump behind you for protection. Fear wasn’t supposed to touch him - he was the fear guy. Yet here he was, sticking close to you, all while pretending he wasn’t rattled at all.