Chapter Text
Pamela sat on the roof of the asylum, kicking her bare feet over the side of the guttering. The night was clear and crisp, and cool enough that anyone slightly more human would have aspirated puffs of steam when they breathed. The height she was at would have killed her if she fell or jumped, but she had no intention of doing anything of the kind; she had slipped the yoke of imprisonment to enjoy an illicit moment of fresh air, as far away from people as she could manage, for as long as she could negotiate.
When the door behind her creaked open, she didn’t turn around since she expected the intruder to be several guards set to drag her back to her cell. A scent of book pages, feathers, and a wisp of smoke penetrated her preternaturally keen nose, and she chuckled; it was a pretty sound.
“Dr. Crane,” she announced in a mocking tone, knowing full well she was right.
“Impressive,” he said, stopping still a few feet behind her.
“Have you come to take in the view, too?”
“Not quite.”
“Ah,” she smiled. “I take it you’re here to take me back downstairs?”
“Somethin’ like that, yeah.”
“Why you?” her lovely brow crinkled. “We’re not friends. Barely colleagues.”
“I got somethin’ the others ain’t got.”
“What might that be?”
“Not scared of you.”
“You’re not scared of anything, if I remember correctly.”
“End result is the same.”
"Fascinating that you managed to erase that very human line between bravery and stupidity I’ve yet to decide if it makes you less human or the most human…” he didn’t reply, but she could feel the sudden chill behind her and smiled, crossing her feet at the ankles. “Why didn’t they just send guards to get me?”
“They’re hopin’ to avoid violence, this time.”
“On me, or them?”
“You know that answer.”
Pamela laughed, then raised her face to look up at the sky. “At least you’re honest.”
Jon didn’t reply; she could feel him watching the back of her head, assessing her.
“It can be beautiful out here, on a night like this,” her voice was a whisper, knowing he had excellent hearing when he cared to listen. “Sometimes you can even see all the stars in the sky, when the power goes out.”
Again, Jon didn’t reply; she sighed and slid back over the ledge to safety. Pamela unfolded her graceful body to its full height, shorter than his considerable one only by a few inches; her long red hair blew in the breeze, lifting through the air with goals of its own.
“That’s the sadness of it, Dr. Crane,” she said softly, taking a step toward him; he remained in place. “It could all be beautiful.”
“What could be?”
“Everything. But when people decide you’re dangerous, insane, or just some kind of…” her expression twisted like a rip across her face, “crazy bitch… it’s a whole lot easier to dismiss what you have to say, even when it makes sense. I don’t expect you to understand.”
For a moment they regarded each other; her expression was hard, daring him to fight back.
“While my aims are not as virtuous as yours, I get your point,” he said calmly, holding out one hand. “Care to come down, Dr. Isley?”
“See?” Pamela relaxed, the serene goddess once more. “They were right to send you.”
“Why d’you say that?”
“With more respect and less violence, matters don’t always have to end in blood. Do they, Dr. Crane?”
Pamela’s smile was like the drowning of a thousand men; knowing he was being baited, Jon looked at her and didn’t reply, nor did he drop his hand. Eventually she acquiesced to trace a green finger up his palm but didn’t take it.
"Fine. I’ll let you put me back in my cage.”
“After you,” he gestured to the door; she nodded.
“Yes. You are,” she said, walking away without waiting for his reply.