Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

Perspective 1: Batman

Batman swooped through the dimly-lit corridors of Arkham Asylum and silently crept into the quiet hall hosting the cells of the most dangerous criminals in Gotham. Thick Plexiglas walls separated the villains from the rest of the world, and the caped hero carefully peered into the transparent prisons, looking for one inmate in particular. Doctor Jonathan Crane, aka Scarecrow, had recently been recaptured by Batman after trying to organise yet another fear attack in the heart of Gotham, with the aim of sadistically studying the reactions of the hapless citizens. The villain was dragged back to Arkham kicking and screaming by the police, but the Knight still had questions he needed answers to, especially those related to whether there were still batches of the deadly cocktail of drugs lying around the city; he wouldn't put it past the deranged Doctor to enact his revenge even from afar.

He stopped before Scarecrow's usual cell, a bit startled at finding it empty. Was the villain still being processed through security? He then heard voices coming from the end of the hall and followed them to the interrogation room. A bit curious to find out who decided to take up what was normally his dubious honour, he peered through the glass; a sound of surprise died in his throat at seeing billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne sitting before the Prince of Fear and apparently listening intently to what the animated auburn-haired man was explaining. Not wanting to startle the unpredictable villain and put Wayne's life in jeopardy, Batman silently cracked open the door to the observatory room and slipped inside. He neared the double mirror and started to make out the words Crane was saying.

"By finally understanding the inner workings of fear and completely mastering the mechanisms behind the chemical reactions it produces in the brain, we could reach a point where we can effectively cure phobias or, alternatively, control people's behaviours by influencing their fears. I understand that my words may sound sinister, especially if uttered in such an unfortunate place and situation, but I beg you to consider the many positive effects such a feat may have. No more speeding, as previously unconcerned citizens are now terrified beyond sanity of being stopped by the authorities and fined. That is clearly a very basic example, but it could be applied to any field of common life. A world dominated by fear is an orderly world out of necessity." When Crane's excited speech came to an end, Bruce hummed pensively, as if considering his point; he then commented: "While I see what you mean, Jonathan, I cannot help but feel uneasy about what you are proposing, for two big reasons. First of all, forcing people to follow rules by making it impossible for them to disobey them, is the same as divesting them of their free will. Yes, I know that one could say the same of having a police force, but a deterrent is not the same as programming people to only do determined things. Secondly, you wanted to gas those citizens without giving them a choice, causing a wave of panic and violence that might have costed the lives of many and that is completely unacceptable Come on Jonathan, you are better than this!"

Doctor Crane let out a low, long-suffering sigh. "Bruce, please", he pleaded with all the reasonableness he could muster. "Try to see the bigger picture and not the minuscule details the masses are so enamoured with. What is a modicum amount of free will in exchange for a safer life? Isn't this what Monsieur Rousseau theorised, in the end? Giving up a portion of personal freedom for the protection offered by society? As of my chosen method of testing, I do lament the quite probable cost of life, but what choices are now available to me to pursue my research? Gotham University cowardly revoked my funding and status as Professor and the plebs is not really queuing for the privilege of being scared witless…" Bruce Wayne forced a nod. "Agreed, but if you can programme a mind to fear determined things and force it to behave safely, you could do the same to make it do despicable acts or tolerate the worst crimes. It would be a dictator's most valued ally! Think of what such a formula would do if it fell in the wrong hands!", he urged the Doctor. Scarecrow smirked lightly at that. "I am quite willing to confess that I did caress that thought, from time to time", he quipped softly. Bruce hesitated, now looking a little uneasy; sensing he might have scared off his audience, Crane smiled reassuringly: "I was naturally joking. Now, where were we?"

A hand slammed on the interrogation table, making them both jump in surprise. "I believe", interjected the rough voice of Batman, "that you and I were about to have a little chat regarding your stunt with the fear gas and Mr Wayne was about to go home." The Doctor stared at him with wide eyes, before giving him a low growl. "This is a private discussion, you insolent rodent, and one that you are not welcome to join!"

"Can it, Scarecrow." Batman said dismissively. "Wayne, out. This is my turf, I am sure you can find some cosy bed or another to host you for the rest of the night." Bruce actually looked hurt by the comment and Batman had to stomp upon a budding tendril of guilt, drowning it with the irritation he felt at seeing the rich boy trying to play detective; this was a job for professionals, not pretty billionaires who thought having a heart to heart with a villain might make them all better. Still, he had to admire the flash of anger that shone in the other man's eyes and pushed him to speak up.

"Doctor Crane is right, we were indeed having a private discussion and such an interruption was really uncalled for. I appreciate the valuable work you do for Gotham and its citizens, but as the president of Arkham Asylum's board I am not about to leave you alone, in the dead of night, with a restraint patient, in an interrogation room, unsupervised. If I am leaving, so are you."

The caped crusader suppressed a grin at the daring answer – many lesser men would already be out of the building by now – and concentrated on more important business. "An interesting stance, considering you were happily conversing with a tied up deranged lunatic alone, in the dead of night, without supervision. Are all the guards away on a coffee break or was this discussion of yours better carried out alone? You seemed very interested in the possible uses of that gas…"

Bruce Wayne's sputtered in an almost comical way, looking as if Batman had just insulted his poor deceased parents."Why… you… you… how dare you!"

Scarecrow shook his head, exasperated. "He really has terrible manners, does he not?", he wondered rhetorically, catching a still fuming Bruce's attention. "It is quite alright if you go, Mr Wayne, I suspect I know the reason for such an untimely visit of no one's favourite night creature. Please accept my thanks for your time, I truly enjoyed our conversation. Besides, I believe you have an early engagement tomorrow? The discussion of more funding for the extra-curricular activities of patients? On that account, if I could just…" The billionaire shook his head as if to clear it. "Ah yes, your request for the library to include a few scientific magazines. Yes, of course, I have not forgotten, it will be brought to the attention of the board tomorrow. I should be able to update you on its status by the end of the week." Crane smiled. "Capital, much appreciated Bruce. Now I must really insist you get some rest, I have already abused of your time. I wish you a good night." Bruce nodded, wished him a good night, reached the door and held it open. At both the villain and the hero's confused expressions, he replied with stony finality: "Five minutes."

As soon as the man left, Batman roughly grabbed Scarecrow by his straight jacket and hoisted him up in the air, snarling at the villain's nasty smirk.

"Where is the rest of the gas stored?!"

"How do you know there is any gas left?", Crane wondered, though his deadpan expression made it clear that it was a rhetorical question.

"With you, there is always some other trap coiled tight, waiting to strike at the worst possible moment…"

"I think you might be confusing me with our facetious friend, the Joker…," the Doctor observed snidely, yelping loudly when Batman slammed him into the table.

"I don't have time for your stupid games! Where is the rest of the gas, Crane?!"

Scarecrow's pale face stared up at him through auburn bangs that made him look like a devil crawling out of hell. "Even if there was any gas left, I would never tell you, you miserable flying rodent. Watching you run around like a headless duck is much more entertaining anyway. Who knows, if pushed far enough you might even end up here with us…"

The hero saw red. He grabbed the other man again, ready to tear him to pieces if necessary, when the door slammed open again and Bruce Wayne run inside, four guards in tow. "Time's…" the man started, but paused almost immediately at taking in the scene before him. The guards held back, part in fear and part in genuine disinterest for the crazed ex Doctor's fate. Not Mr Wayne though, who marched up to the caped crusader and literally plucked Scarecrow's away from his grasp. "I believe that's more than enough", he coldly informed Gotham's Knight. He guided a wheezing Jonathan to the guards and softly ordered them to bring him to the infirmary. The group left, Scarecrow giving one last smirk to Batman even through the pain. As the hero was about to run after him, he found his way blocked by the now frankly annoying presence of Bruce Wayne. "Do you realise what you are doing?", he questioned him gruffly, out of real curiosity. Did the stupid man really not understand what kind of danger Gotham was into?

"Of course I do", the billionaire replied calmly. "I am preventing you from further harming Doctor Crane."

Batman gnashed his teeth together: "Listen, you spoilt, righteous brat, that lunatic has probably hidden another deposit of toxins into the city and…"

"75 Hay Avenue, the warehouse opposite the old candy factory", Wayne quoted almost boredly, but his eyes held a certain amount of malice as Batman halted in his tracks and gaped at him.

"What?", was all the caped crusader could manage and Bruce calmly repeated the address: "75 Hay Avenue, that's where the rest of the toxin is hidden." Batman blinked, unsure whether he was being set up. "But… how…" Bruce grinned a mirthless smile. "Do you really think I am that naïve or that I do not care for Gotham? I knew there was a real possibility that more of that deadly gas was stashed somewhere, so I cut Jonathan a deal if he agreed to reveal where it was. Had I known that that was the reason for your visit, I would have stopped you and told you immediately. Why I did not suspect it immediately, I will never know, maybe I really should get some rest…"

"What was the deal?"

Bruce's voice trailed off and his eyes did not meet the crusader's. "I don't…"

"What was the deal, Wayne?! I need to know if you have compromised yourself or Wayne Enterprises and…"

Bruce raised his hands in exasperation: "He wanted to talk, okay?! He wanted a genuine conversation with someone who would not automatically consider him crazy, attack him or dismiss anything he says. He used to be a Professor, he is used to having a public drinking in his speeches, apparently he missed that… We had a long discussion before you arrived. Some of the things he says are just horrible, absolutely horrible, and the things he does even more so, but there is some part of me that… I don't... Did you know that his grandmother…"

"I do", Batman cut him off, because he did know and hated to think about that. Sympathising with villains was a weakness he could not afford. "He has plenty of doctors to speak to." Bruce smiled faintly at that. "Doctors always want to interrupt you with questions", he quoted softly. He took a hesitant step towards the hero, risking staring briefly into his eyes. "I am a very good listener", he murmured and Batman was sure that he himself did not know what exactly he was offering. He pulled his cape around him and marched towards the door. "It is late, Mr Wayne", he tossed the words at him without turning back. "Go home."

Later in the night (or very early in the morning), Batman, having finally removed the last of the stored gas from the warehouse, finally crumbled in his own bed. The black cowl was torn off and Ra's al Ghul breathed in the chilled air breezing in from the open window. As Batman was safely stored away, Ra's spent a few more moments reasoning on the irritating mystery that was Bruce Wayne. A good listener. Thank god he was not much of a talker.

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think of it!