Marvel/DC Comics United P1 Chapter 6
Author's Note: I'm sorry for not writing in so long. My phone broke when I was almost finished with the chapter and I really didn't want to start over. However, with all of the new advances in both the Marvel and DC cinematic universes(that upcoming Flash tv show looks amazing!) since I last wrote, I decided I had to come back. I don't know how often I'll be writing, but I will be writing. I'm really excited to weave these universes together. This is the last chapter of the first story arc, and the next story arc will feature a showdown between Starling City's Emerald Archer and the SHIELD agent Hawkeye. See you then, and remember I don't own any of these people.
Most modern mental hospitals have a white-washed, sterile appearance in an attempt to convince the onlooker that they are places of healing instead of imprisonment. Not so with Arkham. Sure, several years ago a new section was added to the complex that had the white-washed look for the visitors and those less dangerous patients, but Arkham wasn't for those suffering from depression or other such ordinary mental illnesses. Arkham was a prison, a prison for those madly, dangerously insane criminals that seem to always show up in Gotham. It was an old building, the oldest building in the city, built from dark stone in the Gothic style, complete with gruesome gargoyles and wrought iron gates. While most mental institutions of its kind had either been taken down or converted into more positive facilities, Arkham remained, ever constant, ever reminding the citizens of Gotham of the sickness that plagues their city.
Tony's armored footsteps clanged on the rough stone floors, Bruce wincing inwardly at the noise as it echoed through the dark halls. If the Wrath hadn't already known they were coming, they most certainly did now. They were forced to walk around the white-uniformed orderlies that covered the ground, some of which were unconscious, many of which were, to put it bluntly, dead.
"What a cheerful place," Tony muttered as he stepped over a puddle of blood beneath a doctor's head. "Now I wish I had accepted that invitation to join their bowling league. We could have had all sorts of fun times."
"This is no time for joking," Bruce told him sternly. "Do you always make jokes? We are in an insane asylum were some of the world's most dangerous criminals are kept and are headed toward a battle with an enemy that has already bested us as is holding all the cards. This is not the time for humor."
"On the contrary," Tony contradicted, "this is exactly the time for humor. If you can't laugh in the face of danger then you have no sense of humor. You need to lighten up more, Bats. Maybe if you spent a few days with my buddy Bruce Wayne you might learn to appreciate the lighter side of life."
Bruce had nothing to say to this, and instead simply continued walking, no longer commenting on Tony's senseless jokes. After a while they exited the hallway, entering one of the asylum's main areas, where the less dangerous inmates would occasionally be allowed to participate in recreational activities. A strange green fog began to fill the room, and both heroes checked to make sure their filters were operational as the cloud consumed them. The lights in Tony's armor turned on, his visual switching to night vision. It was disconcerting, not being able to see his technologically-cloaked companion, but it wasn't like he had any other way to see through the muck. Suddenly there was a flash as two blades appeared out of the mist, striking a weak point in Tony's armor and Bruce's gas mask.
"Warning sir!" JARVIS announced. "Air filtration systems failing! System integrity compromised!"
The world began to shift as the pair breathed in the fumes, shadows growing longer, the mist suddenly seeming to hide a thousand secret dangers. A massive silhouette appeared in the fog, looming dark and ominous. "We've been waiting for you," an echoing voice declared. "The Batman, the worst nightmare of Gotham's criminally insane, and Iron Man, the world's first real superhero since the second World War. But you don't feel very heroic right now, do you? You don't feel like a nightmare. I AM YOUR NIGHTMARE!" A massive face suddenly loomed out of the darkness, a horrible, maggot-ridden scarecrow's mask, twisted into a horrid razor-toothed grin. "I am the Scarecrow!"
Tony blasted at the mask and it vanished, replaced by a dozen silhouettes standing in the fog. He raised his hand again, ready to blast them all into oblivion, when one of them stepped forward out of the mist. "Dad?" he asked in shock. Howard Stark walked up to his son, disappointment in his eyes.
"You disappoint me Tony," he chastised him. "You have spat on my name. You are a grown man, and yet STILL you are a child!" He then gestured at Tony's ARC reactor. "You finally created something good for once in your life, and you keep it all to yourself! And for what? So that you can have a shiny new toy and dispatch your own personal brand of vigilante justice? You are a disgrace!"
...
Bruce looked into the mist and two figures came out, revealing themselves to be Thomas and Martha Wayne. "Why?" Bruce's father asked imploringly. "Why didn't you save us?"
"Why did you let us die?" his mother added. "Why did you kill us?" Both figures began to bleed, standing eerily still as they bled from bullet wounds in their chests. Bruce looked down and saw a gun in his hand, a hand which was covered in blood. "Our blood is on your hands," his mother told him. "It's your fault."
...
"You're no hero," Howard told his son. "You are just a child, playing with fancy toys. You are a coward. When the time comes and you have to make a choice, you will falter. I know you, Tony. After all, I am your father."
"No you are not!" Tony shouted, blasting his father's specter. Tentacles sprung out of the ground, grabbing him and pulling him down. He blasted at them and tried to fly out of their grip, but there were too many of them and they were too strong. He was going to die here.
...
A third figure walked out of the fog toward Bruce. He wore a fancy suit and a red and black cape with a red mask over his face. "Why did you do this to me?" he lamented. "Why did you turn me into this?" He tossed off his mask, revealing a pale face with green hair and grinning red lips. "Why, Batsy?" His voiced changed into that of a laughing madman. "You made me!"
Fear. These were his fears. His guilt. This wasn't real. These were hallucinations, created by whatever chemical was in that fog. Tentacles reached up to grab him but he snapped through them with ease. They weren't real, so he wasn't afraid of them. Without fear, these hallucinations had no power over him. He walked over to Tony, who was curled up on the ground. "Get up Stark!" he shouted. "Wake up! Whatever you are seeing, it is not real!"
"That was disappointing," a voice called from above. "Though it was fun to see you squirm, Batman. But your friend is still incapacitated, and I think it's time I took you out." He dropped from the ceiling, but Batman through a pair of pellets that exploded into wires that wrapped around Wrath's body, making him fall unceremoniously to the ground. He snapped the cords and leapt up just as Batman came at him with a kick, grabbing Bruce's leg and throwing him to the side. He then tossed a pair of wratharangs at Bruce, which he deflected with the blades on his forearms. Bruce slammed a pair of smoke pellets to the ground and vanished into the smoke. Wrath was suddenly struck in the back from behind, sending him sprawling to the ground. He swiftly launched himself back up and deflected the next few strikes from the Dark Knight before sending in some strikes of his own. Batman threw a few freezing pellets in Wrath's direction, but as soon as he began to frost over he pressed a button and his suit heated up, melting through the ice. They clashed again, each strike parried and countered by the other.
...
Get up Stark!" someone shouted. "Wake up! Whatever you are seeing, it is not real!"
Not real? It was real enough to be dragging him slowly down. Tony had never believed in magic, but these tentacles were bot natural. They possessed a strength unlike anything he had seen and all of his attacks bounced off of them. He was powerless against them. "Get it together, Tony!" he told himself. "Escape!" They were too much for him. There was nothing he could do. No matter how much he struggled, they still dragged him ever slowly down into whatever endless pit they came from.
"You are mine now," a voice whispered, echoing around him. "You are in my realm." A massive scarecrow loomed over him, deathly thin with a terrifying visage. "The Realm of Nightmares!"
Irrational fear seized control of Tony's heart as he beheld this creature. Sheer terror overwhelmed him at the sight of it. And that was what got him. Tony Stark was narcissistic, sarcastic, and generally an incredible jerk. But another thing he was, he was rational. This wasn't just the fear of a giant monster looming over him and tentacles pulling him down. This was senseless, animal fear, and that brought him back to his senses. "My systems were damaged," he muttered, his genius mind working through the fog that the gas had placed upon it. "Some sort of fear-inducing hallucinogen. That means..."
"No!" the scarecrow shouted as Tony walked towards him, the imagined tentacles no longer restraining him, the thin man now at a normal size. "I am the Scarecrow! I am Nightmares!"
"Shut up," Tony told him as he gripped him by the throat. He pulled off the scarecrow mask, revealing an ordinary man. Tony slapped him across the face with one armored hand, knocking him out. He turned to see Batman locked in battle with Wrath, the two of them unable to defeat the other, the assassin and the vigilante equally matched. Tony charged up his repulsers and fired, blasting the Wrath away, crashing through a wall.
"Nice to see you back on your feet," Batman told him. "Now let's put this lunatic away." Wrath flew at Batman, only for Tony to blast him away with his repulsers. He then threw his explosive wratharang, but Batman shot out his own batarangs, striking the Wrath's projectiles and making them explode in the air. He struck at Batman, the two of them sparring or a moment before Tony flew in and slugged him across the face, his armored hand breaking off the man's mask and sending him sprawling to the ground. He tried to get up, but Tony kicked him just as he got to his knees, sending him crashing into the wall.
"Don't get back up," Tony told him, leveling his repulser at his face. "It won't be a pleasant experience." Wrath settled back down, sighing in pain as he did so. "What are we going to do with these two?" Tony asked Batman, gesturing between Wrath and the unconscious Scarecrow.
"Crane," Batman muttered. "Crane will get a shiny new cell here in Arkham. As for the Wrath, he's an international criminal. That's SHIELD's jurisdiction."
...
A few hours later all of Arkham's inmates were safely back in their cells, with Jonathan Crane as the newest addition. The Asylum was now looking for a new head, what with the previous one now being an inmate, and a certain Doctor Hugo Strange, the cousin of the world renown heart surgeon Doctor Stephen Strange, had previously expressed interest in working with Arkham's inmates. The Wrath, who turned out to be a man named Elliot Caldwell, whose parents had been jewel thieves that had been killed by a corrupt police officer when he was a child.
"We'll put him somewhere secure," Fury told them as his men carried Caldwell away.
"The Fridge?" Batman asked sarcastically. "I know all about your fancy prison, Fury. Just make sure he doesn't escape."
"We'll be taking your friend Bane as well," Fury told him. "Arkham is not suited for one with his abilities. All he needs is a little shot of that serum of his and that whole place would be torn apart."
"Let me guess," Batman asked, "You'll be taking his Venom pack as well." Fury opened his mouth to explain, but Batman held out his hand, stopping him. "I don't care about your excuses Fury," he told him. "But if Bane escapes on your watch, you are going to have to deal with it."
"Duly noted." With that Fury left, Bane and Wrath locked securely and ready to be taken to the Fridge.
Bruce turned to leave, only to be blocked by a beautiful redheaded reporter. But it wasn't Vicky Vale. "Lois Lane, from the Daily Planet," she told him, holding a voice recorder in her hand. "Do you have a statement, Batman? What do you want to say now that the world knows you are real?"
"Bats here is a real hero," Tony declared, cutting in. "He's saved more lives than I think I ever will. It was an honor to work with him." He took Batman's hand and shook it, a dark-haired woman behind Lois taking a picture. "Now, Miss Lane," Tony told her, "Bats and I have something to discuss." Tony grabbed Bruce and flew to the top of a nearby building, dropping him onto the roof.
"Never do that again!" Bruce exclaimed, brushing himself off.
"What, no thank you?" Tony asked with a chuckle. "Why so glum Bruce?" He laughed as Batman glared at him. "Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out? You're not the only genius here, after all." With that he shot off, soaring up into the night. The next day the headline of the Daily Planet read: Batman And Iron Man Save Gotham From Destruction! The Dark Knight A Myth No More!
