Told You So

Written for the LJ Community batfic_contest.
Nolanverse Theme #1: Why Do We Fall?


Gotham tunnels have such a rich and diverse history that several tours have been created for them across the city. Crane was most familiar with the Narrows tours of course, the ones specifically made for tourists travelling through the seedy part of Gotham via steamboat. They cost $35 a ticket, now roughly as much as a week's rent in the few residential areas in the district that hadn't been condemned, and shuttled the gawkers and amusement seekers through some of the more tame portions of Gotham's history. Such tours were amusing enough, but only hinted at the more fascinating aspects of Gotham's history, including cannibalism, human sacrifices, betrayal, and of course madness. There was a reason Arkham Asylum had been built in the center of the city after all.

While Crane had worked as the director of Arkham Asylum, he had toured the tunnels frequently, wandering for several hours after the doors had been locked up for the night and most of the staff had gone home. He wasn't sure why he was drawn to them, or what he was looking for, but Jeremiah had only hinted at some of the skeletons the asylum kept down below. Many of the secrets had been buried and forgotten over time, but Crane had for some reason decided he would be able to seek them out. One night he had gotten so turned around that he hadn't made his way out again until daybreak. At first he had attributed the noises and voices to settling earth or creaking metal; the tunnels were so deep beneath the city there was no telling what was above your head sometimes. The longer he'd been down there though, the more he had tried to discern what they were saying. At times he had fancied his own name spoken with the same pronunciation as a nurse upstairs. Needless to say he hadn't returned since that frightful night. Even the Scarecrow had his limits after all. Sometimes you had to know when it was best to just stand aside.

The fact that Gotham sewers were connected to those tunnels was no big secret. Many of the homeless in the city had been using them for years as shortcuts through the more dangerous parts of town, circumventing gang wars and police investigations without incident. Of course that meant dealing with the tunnels themselves and their sometimes confusing pathways. Sometimes your regular passage would cut straight through as you thought it should. Often you'd find yourself far across town. There was no explaining it, and no predicting it either; it was just one of the many understood mysteries of the city. You used the paths at your own risk.

As the Batman had hauled him through the sewers and eventually reached the dirt, bare-walled tunnels, Crane had warned him that it was a big risk to take. The Batman had ignored him. He knew these tunnels like the back of his hand, he said, and had been more than a little amused at Crane's discomfort. Crane merely shook his head. Anyone who claimed they knew these tunnels so well obviously didn't know a damn thing about them. Crane told him so. The Batman glared and continued regardless. Sometimes even the brightest pupil would only learn by making a mistake on their own. The Batman was apparently that sort of student. Crane was not surprised in the least.

Two hours later, they were lost in the myriad tunnels and the Batman had grown increasingly pissed. "We should be past the central hub by now."

"I told you coming down here was a bad idea." Crane grumbled. The pain in his side would vary between a sharp stab and a dull ache with increasing frequency. He could just imagine the rib grinding against some important internal tissue. "See? Don't you wish you had listened to me now?"

The Batman put an arm against the wall, his breathing ragged. He didn't answer. Crane liked to think that meant he was right.

"I could walk you know." Crane added. "It might make it easier on you."

The Batman shook his head, "It'll aggravate the wound. You're lucky to still be conscious. Are you dizzy?"

"Occasionally," he sighed. Being injured was truly spoiling his enjoyment of tormenting the Bat. He wasn't suffering so badly from dizzy spells as he was from overall exhaustion, and although he wasn't a fully licensed medical doctor, he knew that was a bad sign. "At least being strapped to your back is keeping me warmer than I would be."

"I'll try the next ladder we find. Regardless of where it comes out, we're staying up top."

"Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind," Crane frowned, staring at the grotesque sewage that the Batman was wading through. "Where were you planning on going anyway? As far away from the police as possible I imagine."

"Something like that. You need medical attention, and I need to take you somewhere I know you'll get actual treatment." The Batman didn't expand any further.

Crane laughed, "You mean you don't trust doctors? I'm surprised. I would have thought you of all people would put your faith in Gotham's medical system."

"It's not the doctors I have issue with, it's the police force. They're no longer as… trustworthy as they once were."

"Oh please. You're the reason Gordon was forced to allow idiots like Branden to lead his teams. I suppose he's a Commissioner in name only now, don't you agree?"

"That won't be the case much longer." They had reached another ladder, and the Batman climbed his way up it with only a single arm and Crane's full weight still on his back. To Crane it felt like only a matter of seconds before he heard the manhole cover being dragged aside.

"Wow, that was fast," his head felt like he was in one of those carnival rides. "I don't… feel right. When did you take off that gas mask anyway?"

"A while ago. Just keep talking to me, Crane."

"About what? Your poor listening skills or your inability to follow directions?"

It was raining again and the fat drops slid down the back of his neck, sending a chill through him. He looked up to see they were next to a large building. They alleyway they were moving through smelled like a mixture of dog piss and rotting trash. "Where the hell are we? Is this your idea of medical attention? It reeks of hobos. I wouldn't take my most hated enemy here."

"I would."

Crane grew quiet at that, now wondering if this entire trip was just an excuse for the Batman to dole out his own unique method of torture. The bat pushed through a side door which was rather surprising. He was under the impression that doors were not Batman's preferred means of entrance. Much to Crane's horror, it smelled even more disgusting inside than out. "Now Batman," he muttered, his head pounding. "I know you and I have never much liked one another and true, we've come to blows a few times. I might have made a handful of jabs below the belt, but who doesn't these days? The point is, I don't consider you my most hated enemy, and I hope you feel the same. You're more like… a frequent challenge. A worthy opponent. A-"

"Quiet, Crane. Dr. Thompkins, I have a unique patient here for you."

"At least this one's awake. Really, I wish you would consider bringing them to me before they get this bad."

"Where should I put him?"

"Thompkins?" Crane gasped, "Leslie Thompkins? No wonder this place reeks of piss!"

An elderly woman in a boring, traditional lab coat came around to take a look at him. "You know, Dr. Crane, a certain level of gratitude might go a long way." He felt a needle dig into his neck. "I'm the best you've got at this point, and maybe if you are more polite, I'll even use an anesthetic on you." Her smile was eerily calm.

Crane's eyes went wide as darkness swept over him. He could hear the gravelly voice of the Batman in his final moments of consciousness.

"He was right. I never should have taken those tunnels."

END