AN: I had most of this chapter typed up, and I LOST MY FLASHDRIVE! It's killing me, cuz I had a ton of extra and future scenes for this and it was the only place I had chapters 1 through 6 saved. ARGH! (After starting this again I found my flashdrive, in the washing machine after a load had been through :P I hope it still works) But I got a new computer for Christmas, so I'll suck it up and type up chapter 7 for you guys. Hope you like it.
Sneaking, Scaring, and Pissing Off Boy Wonder
If you've ever tried to sneak up on one of your friends while they're snoozing you know you have to be deathly silent otherwise your feet would give you away. Usually that's all sneaking up entails, quiet steps and light breathing in a silent room and you're good to go. Yea, sneaking up on Scarecrow wasn't anything like that. Fear and panic was thick in the air like a fog as the fear toxin spread to the partygoers. Some became wild, throwing bags, shoes, and whatever they could get their hands on, presumably attempting to keep their terrifying visions at bay. Some objects broke the various neon and strobe lights above the crowd and glass shattered down like razor sharp rain. All of that added to the fact the Scarecrow somehow knew I was there didn't help my chances too much. Of course, I didn't know he knew, so like a blissfully ignorant sneaker, I crept up behind him. It wasn't until Scarecrow whirled around with a maniacal laugh that I realized my plan was a bit flawed. Before I could do much more than gasp in reaction, he sprayed me full in the face with an aerosol can of fear toxin.
Some of the deadly gas condensed on the coffee filters, leaking through to my mouth while some just went straight through the knitted fabric of the ski-mask to my nose. I coughed and hacked hoping to expel the poison from my lungs but I'd already inhaled a small portion of it. Staggering away from the villain my hands cradled my head as a blood curdling scream ripped from my throat. Large orange and yellow flames were making their way up the walls of the nightclub, consuming everything and everyone in sight. I could feel the flames licking my skin, making it burn until my nerves were no more, until the white hot pain was simply unable to be felt. My shoes melted to my feet, my owl suit burned to flaming tatters. And before me stood my parents, their smiling faces charring as the fire took them away as well, the only thing left being their grotesquely cheerful skulls, smiling at me after death.
A sharp pain exploded in my head and suddenly I was on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass. A single stripper heel lay next to me and I easily put two and two together: the shoe had hit me in the head, knocking me from the fear induced vision. The sharp heel had ripped through the fabric of my ski-mask and put a deep gash on my cheek, but otherwise I was fine. I sent a silent thanks to whoever had thrown the shoe. Without them the tender grip I had on reality would have completely disappeared. If the vision had gone on any longer it was almost a guarantee my mind would've been lost to the fiery depths of my past. Most of the blood that oozed from my cheek was caught by the ski-mask but I still wiped some excess away with the back of my hand. Scarecrow's back was now to me as he watched in glee, seeing how the crowd screamed and was wracked with the visions of the only things that scared them most in world. A plan was formulating in my head but it was coming along slowly, mostly having to do with punching his lights out. But after that the whole thing was a little fuzzy. How would I help the people affected by the toxin? How would I get cops to get Scarecrow without getting caught myself? And more importantly, how would I get out of here without Dick realizing who I really was?
"Ok, let's just make this up as we go along, yea?" I said with more enthusiasm than I'd expected I'd have. As I was ready to rush into action like the superhero I was attempting to be, an actual superhero rushed in, stealing my thunder. Robin.
For a fleeting moment I was thrilled to see him for the first time since he'd talked with me in the Narrows. But he had a grim look of determination on his face as he waited for Scarecrow's next move. The villain laughed coldly with glee as he caught sight of Boy Wonder standing before him. Instead of going for Scarecrow again I took a different approach and fled to the stage, ducking behind the curtain. The Fades stood before me, clambering around with their instruments and equipment but froze when they saw me.
"Holy Mary, Mother of God, could this night get any weirder!" The lead guitarist muttered under his breath. Behind him on a couch was the blonde lead singer who lay still except for the occasional jerk or twitch.
"Is there an exit in the back?" I asked. For a moment I worried about them noticing my voice from somewhere and knowing who I am but quickly waved the fear away as I realized they wouldn't know me at all. I had also already subconsciously disguised my voice. Instead of my usual lazy, depressed drawl (that was how I heard it, at least) Owlet was lighter and more carefree like she had the world on a plate but was asking for seconds, if that makes sense. Owlet seemed to be bringing out the lighter side of me, the Mona that had died in the fire, the 15 year old who actually sounded like she knew how to have fun.
"Yea, we used it to get our equipment in here and set up." This time it was the drummer who replied. "The truck is parked out there along with our tour bus."
It was then that the plan completely came to me, honestly like a light bulb flipping on. The Fades hadn't been exposed to the fear gas, besides the lead singer. If they used their tour bus and the equipment truck as ferries to the hospital, then the people from the concert could get treated before they went completely insane. In a flash, I was telling them my plan, feeling and sounding confident as the pieces began to fall into place. For the most part they completely agreed, only posing one question.
"There are at least 150 people out there. The tour bus can only hold about 15 and the truck could probably do 20 or so," the drummer said. "What if we can't get them all there before it's too late?"
I had no good answer for this so I did what I had to do. Putting on a brave face I looked the band mate in the eye and said "We'll worry about that when the time comes." Anti-climactic? I thought so, as well as the Fades who gave me an exasperated look. "But right now we need to start getting people out. Two of you need to start the trucks and get him-" I pointed to the lead singer. "Some major help." I looked to the remaining band member who played the bass. "You and I are going to have to start getting people outside."
The 3 band mates nodded at me like I was some sort of drill sergeant, going off to do their assigned work. The bassist followed me back out onstage. The scene hadn't changed much since I'd last been in there though the panic level seemed to be rising. A teenager no older than me ran past us over the broken glass with bare feet, screaming bloody murder as she pulled out her fiery red hair in bloody clumps. With a start I realized this girl was in my Modern History class. She had suggested that Batman and Robin fought crime "just for kicks." The bassist grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her into his arms bridal style so she wouldn't cut her feet anymore. He ran backstage, reappearing a few moment later empty handed. His face was set in a grimace as he saw the disaster zone ahead of him. With a long sigh he gave me a fleeting smile then rushed into the crowd, holding his breath. I gave a large grin, knowing I'd brought this out in him. Without me he and the band would have cowered backstage until the police showed up 20 minutes too late.
The work was slow, seeing as we could only bring 1 or 2 people back at a time. Most struggled against us, thinking we were their fears come to life. A tall college student elbowed me in the chest, knocking my breath from my lungs. Another high school student kept screaming in my ears, making my head pound with an excruciating headache. Yet as laborious as it was, we finally managed to get the bus and the truck loaded with people on their way to the hospital. It was about that time when I realized Scarecrow hadn't been trying to stop us because he was too busy dealing with a problem of his own. With a familiar flash of yellow, red, and black I saw that Gotham's very own Boy Wonder was doing an excellent job of being up the scrawny criminal. At the moment he was barely more than a flurry of red and yellow punches, dodging bursts of fear gas, landing kicks at the fearsome villain, all while smoothly avoiding manic partygoers and shards of glass. I'm not gonna lie, Robin's got skill. It's one of those things you don't actually let it sink in until you see them in action. To sum it up in one word? Robin was impressive, no way to dodge it.
"I feel so useless just waiting," the bassist grumbled, standing to my left, watching the younger half of the Dynamic Duo in action. We stood with our back pressed against the upstage curtain, completely in the shadows of the stage, cloaked from the screaming audience. I looked sideways at him seeing the tight set of his jaw.
"You want to help? Find a broom or something backstage and get some of this glass out of the way. People are barefoot and cutting up their feet." The leisurely voice of Owlet was back, making the suggestion sound like common sense.
"Good, uh, idea." The band mate sounded sheepish as he retreated backstage to get the broom.
"Honestly, people these days…" I sighed, shaking my head. "Now how do I help?" I tensed to spring into action, my eyes scanned the room, wondering where to strike first. I walked downstage to the edge, looking over the crowd, contemplating my next move. Maybe at the entrance where I could force the doors open and get people outside and the police in? Maybe try to calm people down before the transportation comes back? Though as I was thinking, my decision was made for me. Our favorite little Boy Wonder decided to kick Scarecrow in the gut, sending the stick thin villain flying at me. Scarecrow crashed into me with all his bony glory sending us toppling off the left side of the stage to a 3 foot drop.
He landed on top of me, knocking all my breath from my lungs and preventing more from being inhaled. Before I could get up (or at least attempt to) the criminal took initiative, grabbing me by the back of the suit, a switchblade ready in his hand. He forced me to my feet, jerking my head back so that the ski-mask peeked up to show my exposed neck in the dim black lights. Robin paused on stage, frozen in mid-stride with a sour look on his face like he'd smelled something awful.
"Another step and Owlie gets it, Boy Wonder," Scarecrow rasped. His voice sounded like dry leaves on a Halloween's night, dancing in the chilly wind.
"She's a villain as well as you. Why should it be my business to save those in your league?" The teen hero spat. Behind the ski-mask my eyes widened. Would Robin really let Scarecrow kill me?
Scarecrow laughed humorlessly, the sound lacking emotion. "I know your type, Boy Blunder. You want to be the hero and save the day, to prove dear old Batman you can do it all yourself. Pathetic teenagers. And yes, Owlet, I'm referring to you as well." Since Scarecrow held me in front of him I couldn't see his expression but I swear I could hear the smile in his voice as he rasped out the next sentence. "Leave the big time stuff for the adults, kiddies."
Scarecrow must've been too into his little rant to see Robin reaching for his utility belt. I only knew what was going on a split second before it happened, yet it was more than enough time to brace myself for the coming actions. My body tensed as Robin threw a Batarang (or was it a Birdarang?) at the knife in Scarecrow's hand. The hero's aim was perfect as Scarecrow let out an anguished cry, letting me go to cradle his now bleeding hand. Spinning around, I kneed him in the stomach then landed a quick punch to the side of his head as he doubled over. The villain crumpled to the floor, moaning in pain.
"Yea, not so fun, is it?" I hissed, mostly to myself, feeling empowered as I stood over the criminal.
I turned to look at Batboy but he was suddenly hurdling through the air towards me and Scarecrow. I gave an instinctive yell, dodging his thick soled boots by crouching down to the ground. By the time he'd landed I had already scrambled onto the stage. Robin glared at me, a total 180 from the night before, and in a low, threatening voice he growled "Stay out of my way."
I noticed a few things in Robin's warning. Numero uno: Robin kind of hates Owlet but apparently doesn't mind Mona. Number two: Even though he hated me as Owlet, he still saved me from Scarecrow, which only fuels the whole "totally pure" argument from last night. And number three: Robin said "Stay out of my way." Not our, as if he would have been referring to him and Batman. Just "my", like Owlet was a nuisance he was taking personally. Wow, I'm so flattered.
"Duly noted, Batboy!" I grinned at Robin as he handcuffed Scarecrow, giving him an enthusiastic salute before disappearing backstage. Once hidden behind the curtain, I began to sprint. If I could find a way to get from backstage to audience level I could get to the bar area and be able to change back into my civilian clothes as Mona Ryder.
Luck must've been on my side that night because within a few minutes an exit popped up, leading down a short flight of dark stairs to a back door at the bar. Discreetly as possible I slipped through the exit. I spotted Robin dragging Scarecrow onto the stage, securing the villain to a metal pole that supported the stage lights with a Batarang and some of that unbreakable wire. Though he'd been caught Scarecrow had a wide grin on his face like he'd accomplished all he'd been there to do. I ignored his disturbing smile as I hid my change from vigilante to civilian. The owl suit was a little difficult to take off this time around, my sweat making it stick to my body even more than usual or necessary. But soon I was Mona Ryder, discarding the slightly bloody and sweaty coffee filters and stuffing the useless ski-mask and the suit into the messenger bag.
I stood cautiously, slipping the strap of the bag securely over my shoulder as I looked around to see if anyone had noticed the transition. It seemed that most people were beginning to have the symptoms of the fear toxin lower, the wild look disappearing from their eyes, their breathing becoming much more regular, and their actions starting to make sense. Some people's toxin had worn off, though they were still in shock from the abhorrent images as well as the pain their body had experienced throughout the fearful episode. I bit my lip in worry as I saw the state of these people. Were any of them permanently hurt? Did all of them have to be hospitalized? Worried questions floated through my head yet no answers came. Apparently along with giving me freedom and a slight sense of humor, the owl suit also acted as a thinking cap. Answers and suggestions seemed to come so much easier with the now familiar grey fabric fitted onto my body.
"Mona!" Dick called, rushing to me from the mass of the crowd. His hair was wet with sweat, his eyes slightly crazed-looking seeing as more of the whites were visible than the actual iris. I was scared that Dick had gotten into some of the fear gas as well, but besides the eyes he seemed completely normal. When he reached me he grabbed me by the shoulders, holding me at arm's length as if he were inspecting me. I cocked an eyebrow, posing a silent "Why…?" Dick sighed, releasing my arms. "Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Is it just that scratch on your cheek?" He asked, touching the long line of dried blood with his thumb I'd gotten from being hit with the stripper heel. I nodded in the affirmative.
"Well, could've been worse." Dick sounded a bit guilty as if he was to blame for the (comparably) minor injury. "Did you get hit with any of the toxin?"
Within seconds I could feel how the color had drained from my face, complete with a horrified, aghast look at the memory of the awful experience. The fire, my parents, their skulls… I grimaced, squeezing my eyes shut and opening them again, hoping to erase the morbid vision. "J-just a little bit…" Though only minutes before I'd been the confident Owlet, I was now stuttering and terrified Mona. The personalities flip shocked me seeing as it was easily changed from vigilante to citizen.
Dick looked grim but said nothing, checking his phone for the time. I glanced at the screen seeing 9:24 pm displayed. The whole Scarecrow incident had lasted more than an hour! How long had I been under the influence of the fear toxin? It had only felt like a few minutes, maybe 5 or 10 at the most. Had it actually been closer to something like 30 or 40 minutes? The thought scared me, made me wonder if I'd said anything compromising. Did anyone know the identity of Owlet? I glanced over the room once but everything seemed to be normal, for the present circumstances, at least. Maybe I was just overreacting, maybe my identity was safe as well as my intent. Maybe I was getting all worked up over nothing.
"Well, I guess we'd better call Bruce," I said flatly, looking at Dick with a level gaze. His eyes widened even more and his mouth dropped open.
"Wha-why?" He tried to play it off as if he were clueless to what I was talking about.
"So he can come pick us up. What else? It's not like this is much of a concert anymore. It's not even a crazy party, it's just a disaster area." I gave Dick a curious look seeing that he now appeared extremely relieved.
"Right, yes, a ride." He gave a slight nervous laugh before pressing the sleek phone to his ear as he placed the call. Seconds later he was mumbling into the phone quickly, his free hand making various hand gestures as he spoke. He and Bruce seemed to be having a rather heated conversation and it seemed doubtful that it would only be about getting a ride home. But like the polite little society girl I'd been taught to grow up as, I just calmly laced my fingers together and idly rocked on my heels, waiting for the conversation to finish.
Dick hung up a few minutes later, fuming as he shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. A scowl marred his face as his hand curled into a tight fist. It was obvious to tell he was upset, about what, though, I was clueless. Instead of being polite society girl I decided to switch gears to nosy, good friend. With a slight pout I looked Dick in the eye.
"Have a disagreement with Wayne?" I asked. It was an innocent enough question, not 100% nosy but also concerned about him.
"You'd think I would've learned by now that Mr. Big-Shot-Millionaire makes all the decisions." Dick looked like a little kid as he huffed. You could tell he was fighting his stubborn side to follow Bruce's wishes, whatever they were.
"Well, Mr. Wayne is a smart guy, though I know he can be kinda bossy. I bet it'll work out okay in the long run, though." I tried to be impartial to both sides but it seemed that I was leaning more towards Bruce's side than Dick's.
"I guess so," he grumbled, almost resigned like he had decided to give up on this fight.
A large crash interrupted to conversation as the doors to the entrance blasted open. A few people who were standing too close shrieked as their skin was licked by hungry flames leftover from the explosion. My eyes went wide as police filed in, all in thick Kevlar uniforms, wielding large guns. Some busied themselves with the fire but I barely noticed. I had backed up as far as I could from the fire, painfully running into a count with my lower back, my mouth open in a silent scream. It hardly mattered that the flames were being tended to, fire was unpredictable, uncontrollable, and deadly. One slip-up and the whole place would suddenly be engulfed in yellow and orange and my fear induced vision would come to life…
"Mona! Mona, calm down, they're taking care of it, just don't look at it, ok? Turn around or something-" Dick's supportive comments and suggestions were soon drowned out as the flames tickled the sensors to the sprinklers in the ceiling. Promptly the inferno was doused and I was able to breathe again, gasping in relief.
"Mona," Dick repeated, stepping in front of me. "What was that?" I had never heard Dick be so quiet and curious and almost… frightened. Was he scared for me?
"It's a long story…" I said slowly. I couldn't seem to bring myself to look into his glittering blue eyes. "Can we just get out of here? Besides, we're getting soaked."
The sprinklers were soaking everyone in fact. Though the fire had been put out long ago the man-made rain still poured down from the ceiling, shocking people from their fears by the cold water. Though the scene had been disaster fueled by fright only minutes ago, it was now just a large group of very wet and injured people, hair hanging into their faces and makeup running down their skin. Some policemen led pairs of people out to the lobby while other dealt with Scarecrow, untangling him from the stage support.
"Looks like Bats Jr. was here," a detective stated, holding up the red, bird shaped boomerang/throwing star.
"Without him the Scarecrow would've gotten away with all of this," another younger policeman pointed out. The first detective glared at the rookie.
"Doesn't mean I have to like his help." The growl was barely audible but as Dick and I passed the two on our way to the exit the mutter was made obvious.
"Funny how ungrateful people can be," I said under my breath to Dick. He gave a small chuckle but it was obvious that it was forced. Dick put an arm around my shoulders, leading me around large spots of broken glass to the exit where people had begun to flock out of. His arm kept me close, pressed against his side as he navigated the crowd. It seemed like ages before we were able to make it outside. The temperature had dropped significantly in that past hour and a half and my wet clothes only chilled me further. Dick led me to a wooden bench situated 10 feet or so from the entrance. As we sat I remembered I'd left my jacket in Bruce's car and congratulated myself on the brilliant move with a violent shudder.
"I didn't know you were afraid of fire," Dick said quietly. We sat with our legs barely touching, but the slight contact was enough to feel the slight heat radiating from his body.
"I told you before that my parents died a couple years ago," I started, my voice choking up with every word. "Someone set fire to their lab while they were in it. My dad went to go help my mother and they both go trapped. They died in the fire."
Dick was silent for me, letting me take my own time to gather my strength before continuing on. "I was with them that day in their lab. They had just finished a long project and let me look at it when the lab caught fire. When my dad left there was another explosion and I was thrown into the midst of the fire as well. There was a large pillar that fell. A section of it was on fire and it pinned me to the ground. I've got some scars from the flames where the doctors couldn't fix me. I almost died in the fire that killed my parents, and it haunts me every single day." I finished in a lower tone, my head bowed down as I let a few silvery tears fall onto my clasped hands in my lap. And , like a good friend, Dick let me cry, not pestering me or uselessly attempting to comfort me. It wasn't as if he didn't know what he was doing, it was like he knew I needed time and silence to heal, not empty promises and words. The usually threatening silence had slipped into a thoughtful one where Dick and I were able to contemplate without interruptions. Then it was Dick's turn to speak.
"I grew up as a circus performer, an acrobat actually. My parents and I were called 'The Flying Graysons' and were a big part of the circus. When I was about 8 a Mafia boss named Tony Zucco was blackmailing the circus. When the circus wouldn't give him what he wanted, he sabotaged the high wire for my parent's act. From the wings I watched them fall to their deaths and Zucco got away with it all. Even today he's at large." Dick's hands curled into tense fists as he squeezed his eyes closed, agony painted across his face. So we weren't that different after all, I supposed. The tragedy of our parent's deaths still hung over us, haunting us from day to day without cease.
My arms found their way around Dick's slim torso as I gave my kindred soul a good old fashioned hug. It felt far overdue seeing that we'd known each other for over a week now. But I guess trust takes a while to build up. And, funnily enough, it always seems to only take a few moments to crash that trust down. I looked at Dick's face seeing the traces of tears on his cheeks as well and laid my head on his shoulder hopefully in a show of support. I truly did know what he was going through, I knew how he felt and what he wished most in the world, what he wanted to do to their murderer… It was odd to feel like there was someone who was going through exactly what I was.
Well, not exactly. Dick didn't dress up in a ridiculous costume and hunt down the murderer of his parents at night. Though I'd shared more with Dick than I had with anyone else I didn't think he'd understand the whole Owlet thing. The only person who really would understand hated Owlet. Need I say who? I will anyway, I like the way it rolls off my tongue; The Boy Wonder. He led duel lives and must know the repercussions that I was just now getting used to. There probably wasn't anyone else in the world who knew what I was going through and, most importantly, why. But Batboy wouldn't allow Owlet within 100 feet of him before he had cuffed her or something most likely worse considering he was Batman's protégé. The Dark Knight has long been famous (or feared) for his "ways" of getting people to cooperate or tell him what he wants to know. It only seemed logical that Boy Blunder would learn some, though by teaching or by watching it was debatable.
After a few moments or so I ended the hug, returning to my side of the bench. Dick seemed to deflate a little bit, like his pride and the walls he built up had come down, like his guard had relaxed just for me. It was an accomplished feeling that filled me after that. Dick had shared personal information with me; he had given me a piece of his past. I mean, sure, I already knew he'd been an acrobat and that the trapeze accident had killed his parents, but the fact that he shared it with me meant that I was more than just the girl he sat next to in Modern History. I was more than just a partner for a project. I was a friend.
"Mona?" Dick asked suddenly in the quiet night.
"Yea?" I replied. Dick's hand found my own, comforting me with the warm touch.
"You can tell me anything, you know. I'll always be here for you. Don't think that you have to go it alone." He gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
"Thanks, Dick. You know, there's always going to be some things you just won't be able to be there for." I used Dick's shoulder as a head rest once more, shivering as I did so. "But for everything else I'm glad I'll have you."
We settled into idle silence, watching as help came to pick up the injured and as the Fades came back. We were close enough to hear them talking to the Police as well as the Press, saying how Owlet had organized the plan to get some of the worse hurt crowd to the hospital. They were arguing valiantly for Owlet's sake, making her sound like a Good Samaritan in training instead of the amateur villain I seemed to be acting as. I smiled a little knowing Dick couldn't see. The bumps and bruises and scratches were worth it if Gotham finally got to see what Owlet was all about.
