Dear Fanfic

I want to thank all of my readers out there for being so patient with me. I wish I could write this story properly, but I'm afraid my degree has to take priority and so I know how annoying it must be for all of you waiting for a chapter. Furthermore, recently received a death threat for my first ever fic (what really happened in the morgue), not for the wonky as hell layout (those who have been with me since Psyche know what I'm on about), or the bad grammar, or even the fact that I got so into the story I forgot to finish a sentence (How I never got flamed for that I'll never know). No, my unforgivable crime was...I made Batman out to be a complete tool. Yeah, that's pretty anti climatic to me too. Next time I'm threatened with hanging, please can it be for something cool like treason, or kidnapping Christopher Nolan before he agrees to cast Crane and Riddler as the main villains for the next film (for anyone who's interested, Tom Hardy's going to be Bane)?

But, don't say I don't pander to an audiences requests (even if I'm not a batman writer, I'm a villains writer instead). So I am bringing this chapter forward instead of waiting to release it later on in the story. For all those out there who've been waiting for an update and for anybody who wants more of the Bat, this one's for you.

Artemis

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hormephobia- Fear of shock.

"Batman."Batman raised his head to the monitor above the dashboard. He was back in the Bat mobile, this was the third bomb he had stopped Margaret Whitlock from detonating, and now he was racing down the freeway towards the obvious answer of the last riddle. Inwardly, he was seething; this night couldn't possibly get any worst. All those people who would have met their end tonight, and Whitlock (he would never call her Nygma, what would happen after her rehabilitation if she was still tied to him) didn't give a damn about anybody she was hurting. The last job at the bridge was worst; those people tied up on the road, bound together and unable to escape, with explosives tied to the wires of the bridge. All those lives depended on him, and yet Whitlock had flown off laughing. Flown off. Scarecrow was clearly involved, but how could Psyche be? Bruce snarled inwardly; he would never catch Margaret in those rocket boots. Looking at the screen which Commissioner Gordon had just appeared on, he nodded.

"Jim." He growled simply, "Whitlock is heading for the old museum of Crime and Punishment. Have your men position themselves outside. I'm taking her in this time." Gordon nodded, massaging his temples.

"Its madness tonight." He declared gruffly, venting his frustration angrily to Batman, "The families of the missing women are stepping up their campaigns to find their daughters. Who has to tell them we have nothing huh? Me! And of course its personal with the boys, I have everyone going mad trying to find Turpin. I gotta tell you, those guys look out for each other, I have no idea how they'd react if we don't recover her..."

"Well find her Jim. Well find her and all the others, we just need to trap Whitlock. Get her, and shell lead us to Nygma and Crane..."

"And Griffin."Gordon sighed. "Sorry to say, this just got worst."

"And Gri...WHAT?" Bruce choked . He slammed his foot on the brakes less he crash into a wall. Had he just heard correctly? That was impossible!

"Griffin's in Arkham Jim. She's been in a coma for over a week! She's been in Arkham since Crane left without her! You have to be mistak..."

"I got a call from Arkham." Jim sighed, this night was too surreal, "One of their night staff, a nurse called Charlotte Grey?"

"Go on." Batman growled, digging his fingers into the steering wheel. Psyche had slipped through the cracks again apparently, but how had she managed it this time?

"She hasn't returned to work since last week, her flatmate reported her missing two days ago..."

"What has this got to do with Psyche?" Batman asked, closing his eyes in dread of what was coming. If he knew Cranes partner, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Arkham has just called. We've found...we've found her in Griffin's cell. You remember the bruises she was found with the night after Crane had escaped? Charlotte Grey was covered in them..."

Oh god, Batman thought desperately, yet maintaining his straight face. Gordon carried on.

"Surgery. Its crudely done, the nose job has become infected and swollen...though with the injuries she presented and claimed Crane did to her, they were easy to pass Greys off as her own. Her brown eyes? They're just contact lenses. Lenses which have been in much longer than they're meant to be. Nobody would have thought that her eyes were infected, they'd just think they were her injuries..."

"Is she...alive?" Bruce managed to choke out. Psyche had stolen a person and inflicted such injuries on her...operating on her herself? Bruce could barely comprehend the basic tools she had used for such DIY surgery. Perhaps it was better that Grey was dea...

"Yes."Jim confirmed, "She's in a coma though. We took the lenses out ...her eyes are moving, but her body's petrified...it looks like a botch patch of fear toxin..."

"I've heard of that strain." Batman growled, "Traps the victim in their own bodies...they scrapped it because it was a paralyser, it didn't induce the fear they wanted."So she was alive...that bitch. How could these people inflict such suffering on their fellow man and not feel remorse. He paused slightly. Would Psyche feel remorse? She had done only a few weeks ago, he had seen a glimpse of it just before the police van door slammed on her and a shrieking Whitlock. She had spilt so much innocent blood that day and was laughing about the number of children in that when he and the cops had arrived, but for one moment, when she knew that only he was looking, she had allowed a single tear to slip down her cheek a fraction of a second before she was out of sight. Was Grey allowed the luxury of Psyches tears?

"She's been there a week you say?"He managed to say after what seemed forever. On the monitor, Jim nodded.

"None of the orderlies or medical staff bothered to check her properly. Those bastards. Tomorrow, I swear I'm going to have a word with Arkham about the running of that hell hole...Batman? She'd even gone to town on Grey's fingers...she's sick...they're all sick..."

Right, this collaboration of the Couple of Fear and the father and 'daughter'team needed to be broken up. No more people were going to suffer because of their games.

"To the museum now Jim." He snarled, "Whitlocks not getting away this time." The Commissioner nodded.

"You don't think Griffins with him right now do you?" He questioned his friend, raising an eyebrow. To this, Wayne shook his head.

"If she was with Crane, she would never have let Whitlock have her rocket boots Jim." He growled, "But I'm sure she's near to him, whatever going on tonight...we will find Rosie, Jim."Gordon had already hung up however, it didn't need saying that he was thinking the same thing too.

"Damn you Adams." He snarled in the solitude of his car, starting the engine up again. The injuries...the sadness...the mouring Crane's abandoment. They had all been lies."I swear, you won't prove me wrong."Inside however, his heart was beating fast, the shock of Gordon's revelation coursed through him, adrenaline almost poisoning him. Oh he would capture Whitlock, and then he would make Catherine Adams pay...wherever she was.

EVIL SMILE I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. This story is now starting to lead to its glorious crushendo (and hopefully it'll be done by New Year lol). Hope you enjoyed this admittedly short chapter. Don't blame me, results tomorrow, I just wanted to take my mind off them.

*Maggie Whitlock was Shyera Nygma's birth name pre life of crime

As always, please review (and welcome to my new readers who've added The Game to story alerts. You guys rock)

Artemis out