WARNING: MAJOR ARKHAM KNIGHT SPOILERS! (Even in the next few sentences)
Author's Note:The story starts out right where Batman is about to confront Scarecrow in Stagg Airship. I've changed the timeline quite a bit to fit a little better, but really just in terms of information, not events. So just for clarity, at this point in this story everyone knows that the Arkham Knight is Jason and everyone knows that Bruce is Batman. By the way, it's much more fun to read if you can imagine Scarecrow's voice from Arkham Knight in your head (all of their voices, really, but especially Scarecrow's). It's pretty epic. I hope you enjoy it! :)
Chapter One
It was turning out to be a long night. Batman was standing near the front of Stagg Airship. A door blocked his way, but it wasn't going to be a problem since he had already synthesized Stagg's fingerprints. And he couldn't stop now. Not when Scarecrow was just on the other side of the door. He had to stop him. If Scarecrow got a hold of the Cloudburst device, there was no telling the amount of damage he could do to the city and its people. Batman placed his palm to the center of the door and pushed, triggering a mechanical voice:
"Identity confirmed. Welcome, Mr. Stagg."
Once through the door, Batman met a sight he couldn't quite understand. There were two Scarecrows standing in front of him, both with their backs turned, too occupied with their own computer terminals to notice his entrance. The sight itself might have once confused him, but he had been seeing a lot of strange things lately. He knew it was some trick of the mind. Joker had been haunting him all night. Seeing two Scarecrows wasn't all that outlandish by comparison. But that still left a choice and he would only get one shot at it. Acting on instinct, he silently approached the figure on the left, figuring that if he chose incorrectly, his right-handedness would give him a better chance at defending himself if the real Scarecrow attacked from the right.
He was wrong on both accounts.
As he spun the left Scarecrow around to face him, he was greeted not by Scarecrow's masked face, but by Joker's corrupted one, which proceeded to cackle maniacally inches from his own. Before Batman could turn, the real Scarecrow was on him, injecting his fear toxin into his chest. Immediately, Batman could feel it spreading through his body, leeching into his mind. He could deal with the fear. But there was something new to Crane's formula.
"Pain, Batman. My new toxin causes immeasurable pain. I've been wanting to test it on a proper subject. And here I find a willing volunteer. That dose represents the last of my new formula. You should be honored," Scarecrow said with a sadistic smile.
Batman fell to his knees, clutching at his chest where he had been injected. He struggled to stand, but simply didn't have the strength. He groped around on the hard floor, his world spinning around him. Finally, he collapsed onto his back, allowing himself to focus solely on breathing, the only thing he could willingly force his body to do. Then it hit him.
A wall of agony crashed into him like nothing he had ever felt before. And he had been through a lot. He'd been shot, been stabbed, had broken nearly every bone in his body at some point in his life. But nothing like this. Anyone else would have passed out from the pain within seconds. Probably wouldn't even have survived the dose. Batman merely gritted his teeth, not giving Crane the satisfaction of knowing how much pain he was truly in.
Scarecrow had been circling Batman, observing the effects of his toxin. Now he edged closer, bending slightly to lean over Batman's prone form. "Give in to the pain, Batman. Give in to the fear."
Batman's resolve was wavering. He arched his back in response to a sudden crack of pain, his fists clenching. A grunt escaped his lips.
Seemingly pleased by Batman's response, Scarecrow slowly resumed his circuit around him. "I quickly discovered that pain alone is bearable. Unpleasant, perhaps, but bearable." Scarecrow spoke as if his toxin were a mere pinprick. As if it hadn't reduced Gotham's Dark Knight to a writhing mass on the floor. "You see, it's the fear that is necessary to break someone. Even you, Batman. You fear that the pain will not end. That it will tear you apart until death finally appears as the most merciful option. As the fear creeps into your mind, slithers into your soul, your body revolts. Hope gives it a reason to keep living, but fear… fear drags it down to the bottom of the ocean until you are drowning in your own misery, devoid of any reason to keep fighting, for your heart to keep beating. Give in to that fear, Batman."
The pain had spread through every inch of Batman's body. He could feel it in every fiber of his being like he was being buried alive in the blazing inferno of Gotham's destruction. But he wouldn't give in. Gotham needed him, now more than ever.
In between pained gasps, Batman hissed, "Never."
"You do not disappoint, Dark Knight. I cannot deny that I would have been a little let down had you given in that easily. Still, I would have ended it for you here and now. Mercifully brought your foolish struggle to save this forsaken city to its inevitable close. Now, it seems, I will have to forfeit my claim on your life to another. One who has more significant debts to settle. We will not meet again."
Batman could barely hear his words. They blurred together into an unintelligible cacophony. He couldn't move, couldn't think. His muscles, tendons, bones, his very blood was on fire. It felt like his veins were going to erupt. His heart pounded so fast it was going to burst through his ribcage. It wasn't even until he felt his cowl lifting from his face that he realized a presence other than Scarecrow's was looming over him.
It was the Arkham Knight. Jason.
"Hello, Bruce."
At Jason's appearance, Batman pushed the pain back as far as he could long enough to see one of the Arkham Knight's brutes grab the Cloudburst, carrying it over his shoulder as he followed Crane through the door.
No.
Stealing Batman's attention back was Jason, who stood off to Batman's side. "You're all mine now. I think it's about time we get reacquainted."
Batman's eyes were already starting to roll back into his head, his body once again settling into its new certainty of pain. As his eyes unfocused, the last hazy image he beheld was Jason rearing back to smash his fist into his temple. Batman didn't even feel it over the pain induced by the toxin. Then the world darkened until the total absence of feeling became a blissful reprieve.
"Alfred, I can't get through to Bruce."
"I haven't heard from him either, Master Tim. It's been over an hour now since he last contacted me about the Cloudburst device. He had said that he was closing in on Scarecrow, but he should have reported in by now. I fear that something has happened to him."
Robin was worried about Batman too. It wasn't like him to leave them hanging like this. Especially when the stakes were so high.
Batman had said that working on the Joker cure was the most important thing Robin could be doing, so he had stayed behind at Panessa Studios while Batman went to confront Scarecrow. But Batman wasn't always right. Robin should have gone with him. He should have insisted despite how hard it was to argue with the Dark Knight, let alone win. Maybe they were worried about nothing. Maybe Batman had simply gotten himself into a tight spot requiring stealth and, subsequently, radio silence. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time. But that gnawing worry at the back of Robin's head told him otherwise. Batman was in trouble.
"Sir? Master Tim, did you hear me?"
"Yeah, sorry, Alfred. I agree. I don't like this one bit. I'm going to check his GPS tracker, just to be sure."
"Very good, sir."
Accessing the Batcomputer, Robin quickly attempted to zero in on Batman's location. Only instead of a set of coordinates, an error message popped up:
GPS disabled. Unable to access location.
"What the…? This is not good, Alfred."
"What is it, sir? Where is he?" Alfred asked, concern lacing his words.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean?"
"His GPS has been disabled. It doesn't make any sense. No one except the two of us and Bruce know how to disable that device and... oh no." Realization suddenly hit Robin as he spoke. Jason. Jason would have known how to do it. And would have had the biometric access as well. His fingerprints and retinal scans were still in the computer, still functional. Neither Batman nor Alfred had removed them after they thought Jason had died. There had been no need to. And, even after so long, Batman had found it difficult to do anything concerning Jason, let alone erase his data from the mainframe. Robin had let it be. Again, he figured there was no use deleting it anyway and, eventually, they forgot about the fact that his biometrics were in the system at all. Jason wasn't ever coming back. Except, now he was.
"It's the Arkham Knight, Alfred. Jason. His biometric access is still in the computer," Robin explained as he furiously typed on the keyboard. "And now he has Bruce, God knows where."
It was easy enough to revoke Jason's access, but the damage had already been done. Robin frustratingly pounded a fist onto the desk, a pen holder toppling over from the force of the impact, its contents clattering to the floor.
"I'm going out there."
Robin was grateful Alfred didn't try to stop him. He was tired of people telling him to stay behind.
"Might I suggest enlisting Master Dick's help, sir?"
"Already on it."
Robin flipped over to the feed of Nightwing's face. He looked to be crouching on a rooftop somewhere.
"What's up, Tim? I don't hear from you too often."
"Where are you right now?"
"Chasing down another lead on Penguin's weapons caches. I swear, these goons get more and more stupid as time goes on. I've been following their van for the last half hour, listening to their radio feeds. They've just been blabbering on and on about Penguin's plans. Cobblepot really needs to step it up in the henchmen department. It's not even a challenge anymore." Nightwing must have noticed the worry in Robin's face because his tone instantly changed. "Tim, what's wrong?"
"Bruce is in trouble. I need your help."
Nightwing didn't question him. Didn't need a reason. Dick had always been like that. Everything was all fun and games to him. Every mission a thrill. Every villain just another trophy on the mantel. But not when it came to their little family. He may have been cavalier with his own life, but not with others. Especially not one of his friends. His face shedding all traces of amusement, Dick grew deadly serious and just asked, "Where?"
"Meet me at Panessa. I'll fill you in once you get here."
"I'm on my way."
Once Nightwing cut out, Robin switched the feed back to Alfred.
"Alfred, have the Batwing run a thermoscan over all three islands."
"That's going to take a terribly long time, sir. Not to mention the fact that it will be nearly impossible to differentiate Master Bruce's thermal signature from that of the other people still left on the islands."
"I know, Alfred, but it's all we have. Focus your efforts on Founder's Island. That's the Arkham Knight's stronghold. If he's holding Bruce somewhere, he's more likely to be there."
"Very well, sir, I shall get started right away."
"Thanks, Alfred. Keep me posted."
"And, sir?" Alfred edged in before Robin could change the screen. Robin looked up again at Alfred's worried face. "Please be careful, both of you."
Nodding in affirmation, Robin replied, "We will."
