A/N: Yeah, I don't own Batman/DC. Duh. But I do claim this idea.

Of all the reactions to Scarecrow's fear toxin, none is more disturbing than that of Red Robin's. I can handle the terror of Red Hood's screams, the whimpers of Robin's as he tries to bargain with his Mother. I can handle the ridgeness of Batman's. Those are normal responses, and while they are still terrible, what I fear the most is the sheer silence of Red Robin. He doesn't scream, whimper, or gasp. He doesn't do anything, he is just immobile. His eyes, if you could see through his mask, are blown wide. He doesn't so much as twitch.

The call for assistance came from Red Robin early into the night; we were all separated as we tried to deal with the most recent mass breakout from Arkham. According to Oracle, I am the closest. Despite the wind whipping through my hair, I don't have the presence of mind to enjoy the sheer freedom that comes from slinging through the city. My mind is solely focused on my destination as Oracle's reports flow through the communications system. I can hear the others responding, some with the sounds of exertions, others with a tinge of thrill from adrenaline.

What I notice most of all is the silence from Red Robin after his call. He doesn't answer the questions directed his way. The open comm that allows the sounds of taunts to filter to the rest of the Bat Clan. I don't acknowledge the reports from Red Hood, Robin or Batman as they all check in. The reports of the different targets being taken back into custody. I focus on the muted silence. The low murmur of a voice I know. Scarecrow. He has Red Robin and Red isn't responding. I feel the tightening in my chest, I push it down. I don't have time to deal with the rising anxiety. Tim doesn't have time.

I hit the top of another roof, and with a few quick strides I am already on the other side, my grapple already providing the leverage I need. As I near my destination the sounds are what greet me first. The screaming. The sheer cacophony nearly throws off my landing, but with the grace and muscle memory, I tuck into a roll and stop behind cover. I take a moment to track the screaming masses as they might their fears in real time. Some are fighting against others, some are fighting themselves and some are curled into little balls, rocking back and forth nonsensically. Then the sky decided that it hated me. The clouds opened with a ferocity I haven't seen in awhile. While I cursed my luck, I also acknowledged that it was a boon. The rain would keep the gas from spreading. It would contain it. It would neutralize its airborne nature.

I can't see Red or Scarecrow. I can feel the frustration rising within, but I tap down on it. I would like nothing better than to focus on Red and find him amongst the hordes, but I have to trust he can handle himself a little while longer while I get the civilians to relative safety. I know I don't have enough antidote for them and even if I did, we must first confirm the particular strain of fear toxin.

With not a little regret, I start to coral the civilians. I first go after those violet against others. My hands flash to pressure points, knocking out as many as I could get my hands on. When I have a decent amount, I round them up and chain tie them together, so if one starts to struggle it applies pressure to the others, preventing them from moving.

I had a second group secured when the heavy thuds of boots landing near me alerts me to Red Hood's arrival. Securing the last knot, I barely acknowledge him as I give directions. I leave the rounding up to him, my mind already flashing to Red Robin and his prologues silence.

"Sit rep," Batman barks into the commas.

"Scarecrow is still on the loose. No response from Red Robin. Red Hood is currently securing the civilians. I am tracking RR," I answer back succinctly.

"Break," Oracle interjects. "I have eyes on Red Robin, he is northwest of your position. He hasn't moved in half an hour."

"Acknowledged. Nightwing, get him."

"On it," I respond to Batman's order.

I angle my path towards Oracle's last reported position of Red Robin, my steps are quick and sure. As I round the corner, I curse my luck. Skidding to a stop, I peer through the curtain of rain, desperate for any flash of red against the rest of the muted colors. I switched my lenses to thermal and found several spots of interest, most were still moving regardless of the discomfort of the rain but my focus was on the two still figures. For the second time in a short while I was glad for the cover of rain, I ignored the afflicted civilians and made a zigzag path towards the two.

"Incoming."

I paused behind a low wall, waiting for Robin to touch down next to me. Light were his steps, his stealth is also aided by the water. I touch his knee to direct his attention to me before I flash several hand signals, knowing that even in this close proximity the roar of the rain made conversation difficult and using the comms so close would cause a feedback reaction that we both would like to avoid. A nod of understanding passes between us, and with that Robin slinks away.

Glancing, I notice the one small heat source taking out the civilians, preventing them from being caught in the next fight. When the all clear was given, I make my move. I come in from the side, my focus on the two figures but I still make sure that there are no surprises from my peripheral. The rain starts to slow. With my vision clearing I return my lenses to normal and allow a low growl exit before I stifle it.

In front of me is my little brother, his muscles frozen with a barely a tremble belying his current emotional state and looming over him from behind is the tall, thin figure of the Scarecrow. My fists clench, wanting nothing more than to tear the monster limb from limb. While, Scarecrow is not touching Red Robin, I know he can be doing just as much damage. With his head almost intimately close over Red Robin's shoulder, I surmise that he is talking to my brother and I want him to stop. Before this night was through I would make sure that the Scarecrow can't whisper any more poisonous words, one way or another.

The rain abruptly ceases to a soft mist, the sudden silence is my downfall. My foot causes a rock to skitter slight but it is enough. Scarecrow's attention swivel's to me. We lock eyes and a slow smile marred his already hideous vestige. A blade flashes in the moonlight and blood flows from a wound, mixing with the puddles on the ground.

"NO!"

—

5/29/19 Rehabilitated Sith.

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