Yes, I'm updating. But of course you knew that…starting Fate and resuming Shadow Creature and Dark Corners has threatened this fic's standing, so I thought I should update. This is not as long as the last chapter, but I told you that was a special treat. From now on we're going to be switching back and forth from Robin to Batman. This is Batman's chapter. Thanks to everybody who reviewed, out of laziness and a shortage of time, I can't respond but I want you to feel loved. ;)


Robin didn't bother going back to the living room.

--Yes, I'm aware I started with Robin, smarty-pants. Be patient.--

He would undoubtedly be facing frantic questions and worried gazes; at this point, he just couldn't handle it. If he attempted to talk to someone he would probably end up doing something stupid, like yelling or…

Glad that his mask was in place, Robin walked back down the hallways he had so recently raced through, headed for his bedroom simply because it was least likely of getting visitors, so to speak.

The door slid shut.

A very small part of Robin nagged for action, but it didn't manage to penetrate the numb. Everything was falling apart. First Raven, now Alfred. Bruce was gone, and even though he fought to bury the feeling, betrayal and hurt came seeping into his thoughts. Bruce had promised to help him. He swore that they would tackle this together…yet, in an instant, he was gone.

"Alfred needs him more than you do… Besides, I thought you wanted him gone."

He never wanted Bruce gone. He needed him…so much it scared him. He knew what it was like to lose Bruce…and he couldn't survive it. No, he had never wanted him to leave. Not inside.

Robin stopped himself in horror. Alfred was dying, and all he could think about was himself! What reason did he have to keep Batman here? He wasn't injured, he wasn't bleeding…

"Master Dick, if all fathers were good for was mending bones, the Lord would have just assigned you a doctor."

Robin sat down on the bed, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. Alfred was right. He always was.

Raven was gone, Alfred was fading, Bruce needed him help…

And all he could do was sit.


Slade was growing impatient. This supposed "partnership" between himself and Scarecrow had brought him hardly any results, yet plenty of annoyance. First the plans were outdated, then the safe couldn't be opened…the fool had ruined everything except distracting Batman, and even that operation was far from the home stretch.

Once again, he was reminded why he didn't have partners.

Sighing quietly, Slade filled his lungs with musty air, rubbing his gloved hands together. Despite his incompetence and arrogance, the fact remained that Scarecrow was necessary. He could not be in Jump City with Robin and Gotham City with Batman, and fighting them together was out of the question. Slade's only real interest was the boy; therefore someone had to keep the Dark Knight occupied. That, at least, Scarecrow could do. He had known Batman since the very beginning, after all.

Slade gazed in at Raven with mild interest. The sorceress was restless, turning fitfully in her drug-induced sleep. The sedatives were becoming less effective as her body adapted to each new dose. Keeping her constantly sedated was costing him far too much—he was already risking dependence and possible brain damage. Yet another reason to be frustrated with his so-called partner.

Calming himself once again, Slade continued down the dimly lit hallway. Most of the rooms branching off from the hall were empty, though some had been adapted as laboratories and what not.

Shoving roughly, he entered the selected door with a bang. They jumped. "I trust you have made considerable progress?" Slade gave the barest lift to his last syllable, though it was more a statement than a question.

The head scientist stepped forward, his knees knocking though his voice was firm. "These formulas are unfamiliar. It's like deciphering an ancient language just to read them, much less do what they're asking. We need more time."

Slade cocked an eyebrow behind the mask. "Is that so?"

His hand shot out, clamping around the man's neck in an iron grip. With a precise twist and a resounding crack, Slade tossed the man aside. Not so much as a flinch.

"Is anyone else having trouble deciphering formulas?"


Bruce arranged for his jet to be sent over to Jump City Airport, and by eight o'clock the next morning it had arrived. One infinitely long flight later, he was back in Gotham City and on his way to Wayne Manor.

He may have left Jump as Bruce, but he would arrive as Batman. Crane had pushed far past the limit this time, and he didn't care if he had to bury the psychopath in his backyard, "Scarecrow" would pay for what he had done in the most painful way possible.

Deciding it would be best to approach from the back door and catch Crane off guard, Batman guided the Batmobile through the groping fingers of dead trees, and eerie twilight falling under their branches. His thoughts were inevitably tugged back to Robin, and the way they had parted company. As guilt curled around his stomach, Bruce reminded himself that it was the only way. Robin needed to stay as far away from Crane as possible, and he didn't have time to argue the point. Still, the voice in his head insisted that he had just chosen Alfred's life over Richard's.

Batman vaulted out of his seat and surveyed the familiar surroundings, then headed for the elevator—

An eerie rasping sound drifted through the musty air, raising the hairs on the back of his neck as he spun to face the noise.

"The backdoor plan only works if the enemy is at the front door." Crane smiled that tight-lipped smirk from his seat at the computer panel. His fingers, pale and white, were steepled in a business like manner.

It took all of Batman's self-restraint to keep him from tearing the man's heart out with his bare hands. Taking a slow breath to steady his voice, he growled, "Cut the small talk. Where is he?"

"All in good time." Crane rose politely from his chair, motioning for Batman to follow him. Condescension oozed from his every pore. The Dark Knight followed stiffly, tensing even further when Crane stopped before the "blank" cave wall.

Wasting no time on courtesy, Crane got straight to the point. "Open it."

He didn't really think it would work, but Batman chose to give playing dumb a shot. "Open what? It's a wall. I'm sure you have them at Arkhum," he spat venomously.

Crane studied the floor for a moment, the smirk becoming tighter as a humorless chuckle escaped his mouth. "Alfred was the one who cared for you, after your parents died. He's weathered it all with you, hasn't he? Taken risks, put his life on the line, all for you. I can only imagine what his death would do to your already unstable mind." The last phrase was delivered with the dagger like gaze of his ice blue eyes. The light in them was all too familiar to the Dark Knight. Complete insanity.

Silence echoed in the cave as Crane's words sank in. Jaw clenched as a mixture of anger and fear raged beneath the surface, Batman stepped up to the wall, facing the indented bat. Everything inside him screamed that he should break every bone in Crane's body and worry about Alfred later, but his intelligence spoke differently. There was no telling what Crane was capable of at this point. He needed to play along until the opportune moment arrived.

Touching the indentions in a pattern that only made sense to him, Batman then placed his palms flat against the wings of the bat, and pressed his forehead to its head. Speaking just below Crane's hearing, he muttered, "Why do we fall?"

Stone ground against stone as the panel sank into the ground, revealing a small room carved into the rock. The rough shelves held weapons, twisted hunks of metal, and, for the most part, papers. Rolls upon rolls covered the walls and spilled out onto the floor in a mess that would have stumped anyone but himself.

Crane was just as patronizing as ever. "I'm almost disappointed that you're being so cooperative. I suppose there is still time…" he sighed, standing just outside the room. "I'm in need of something specific from your files. Project 3XC, or, as you call it, Project X. I trust you keep the final plans here, where they are secure. In the wrong hands, the device could have a devastating effect on the world."

"Doing the dirty work again, Crane?" growled Batman, anger boiling inside him. "Never saw that one coming."

Crane was losing his patience. "Unless you want to see the effects my poison has on the human body, I suggest you keep your comments to yourself and give me the plans."

Batman's eyes narrowed as his fists clenched tightly, arm muscles bulging under the strain. Instinct had at last beaten down the logical part of his brain.

Moving with inhuman speed, Batman rammed an elbow into Crane's face, spinning to deliver a swift kick to his knees as the man stumbled back. Clamping a hand around his throat, he jerked the small thin man off his feet and slammed him against the wall. Satisfied that he had done enough damage—Crane was limp on the ground—Batman turned his attention toward the elevator. Yes, he was leaving his enemy with the Batcave at his fingertips, but all that mattered right now was Alfred. He had to save him…there was no alternative and nothing more important.

Crane struggled to his feet as the metal cage screeched out of sight. Breathing heavily and wiping the streak of blood from his chin, Scarecrow spoke to the empty room. "Wrong choice, Mr. Wayne."


Well, happy New Years Eve, everybody. I'll be going back to school on Tuesday, so the update for this story will probably take quite a while. You can, however, expect an update for Fate before that happens…if you read it, that is. Later days. -Dusty