Chapter Eleven: Fear
Batman's fists tightened, clenching the Scarecrow's raggedy trench coat tightly in his hands. He yanked the man forward, a satisfying yelp howling from Crane's trench coat as the batarang sliced through the material and left the shoulder pad hanging limply against the wall. Bruce paid the split little attention, hoisting the Scarecrow's tattered mask to his own face, his lip curling and showing his upper canines as he growled out in a low snarl, "What do you mean, Crane?"
Despite his weakened state, regardless of the electric shocks that had frayed his coat and the punches that had crinkled his already shabby burlap mask, the haunting figure wheezed out a raspy cough that whistled through his throat like cold winds through fields of dry hay before he replied, "Are you trying to intimidate me, Batman?" he scratched out with amusement layering his voice, a mangled smile showing off a mouth void of any feature aside from glistening blackened yellow teeth, "Are you trying to frighten the master of fear himself?"
Bruce gritted his teeth as his reply, his hold on Scarecrow growing tighter and his expression more severe. The dark room blended in with his costume, making it nearly impossible to tell where the cape of the Dark Knight ended or began. Through narrowed eyes that bore down on Crane with a dare sparkling in their depths, Batman said nothing.
Unfazed, Crane wrapped his long bony fingers around Batman's forearm, wiggling a bit in the man's grip before seeming to adjust himself into a more comfortable position for breathing, a handful of hissing chortles falling from his mouth, "Ah, you are trying to scare me – ironic isn't?" Crane mused slowly, his voice drawn out and mangled like he spoke with oily sandpaper in his mouth, "But that's what we do Batman – we are alike in this way, are we not? Both of us stalk Gotham; haunt both the waking and sleeping hours of our foes. You strike fear into the hearts of men, as do I. And why? And why, Dark Knight?" his voice jeered, a intriguingly soft hush as he asked, " Because we both know how strong an emotion it is, how useful and how destructive it can become," Crane let out a horrid chuckle as he pretended not to notice the still anger reverberating from Bruce.
"I will not ask again," Batman grounded out, his tone cold as steal and twice as unyielding.
"Nor will you need to," Crane assured, his tone as old as time itself and low as the chime from a grandfather clock. He leaned his face forward, within inches of Bruce's and tightened his hold on the man's forearm. His breath was rotten with decay, his eyes glittering black as he called softly in a hushed tone, "What are we afraid of, Batman?" he smiled a grimy grin, "Those who don't know fear will give all kinds of answers. But I and you know different. Everyone is afraid, Batman, of the same thing. Everyone is afraid of truth."
"Explain." Batman demanded coldly, slamming Crane up against the wall, listening to the man's figure collide with the gray bricks with a thud.
"I gave them what they wanted Batman. Is that so wrong? Am I so evil?" Scarecrow hummed in a low greasy way, rolling his head in the direction of the pods and nodding at Bruce, "Your prized little heroes have exactly what they want, what they were always afraid to hope for," Crane paused, before saying with cold and mocking grin, "So wake them then, Dark Knight – for you will only bring them back into a world of disappointment; send them back here, Batman, and know they will never be as happy as they are now."
Batman threw Crane back against the wall again, growling out in frustration as he did it once more – hating the hollow laugh that coldly filled the room each time, Crane's casket like body slamming into the bricks but showing no signs of pain other than a brief grimace when he made contact. After the second time he smashed the scientist into the wall, Bruce breathed a last heavy breath through his nose, a sound of disgust, and dropped Scarecrow to the ground. The man fell like a forgotten ragdoll to the floor, his long limbs sprawling loosely to the ground. Slowly, he curled in on himself, a sick wheezing noise escaping him – Batman thought he may have been trying to still laugh, withstanding the pain that must have been seizing his body.
Crane's head had turned up to face the Bat, his unflinching and unfeeling smile cruelly smeared into a mangled grin before he coughed one more time and asked in a rough voice, "I wonder, Batman, what your Robin sees? " Scarecrow's demented delight seemed to grow as Bruce went rigid, "Surely not Gotham, after all; not this life. So what is it, great detective, which the Boy Wonder sees when he's not afraid to dream?" the man seemed to taste the words on his tongue before letting them go, dropping each one like a grenade.
Bruce stiffened at the remark, remembering the beam on Dick's face from behind the glass pod – he knew exactly what the boy was seeing, who the boy was seeing. Scarecrow had said everyone was afraid of the truth, and mentioned giving the Team what they'd always been afraid to hope for. Understanding in Crane's words pierced him like an arrow – Scarecrow's twisted logic had given the sidekicks a reality they would be afraid to lose, a perfect world – a lying truth. And Robin was seeing his parents; a family he would never get to have.
Before either Batman could respond or Scarecrow could blink, a flash of red had picked up Crane, reintroducing the man's back to the gray bricks for the fourth time, this time the force so unexpected and fast that it knocked the breath from Scarecrow and caused the villain's sight to darken and turn his bones to jelly as he lost consciousness, his head lolling to the side, sagging over his noose.
"Lights out," Flash murmured, a slight anger in his voice as he allowed the man to slump to the floor. Barry stepped over his dropped figure, cracking his knuckles as he made his way over to Bruce.
"Speaking of lights – let's get them back on. Something about this place gives me the creeps."
"I see the cure took effect." Batman noted, catching the lack of alarm in the speedster's demeanor. He kept his face straight, but Bruce managed to crack a thin smirk in the Flash's direction.
Flash nodded before feeling along the wall at superspeed and locating a light switch that he quickly flipped on, "Yeah," he said, returning to Batman's side almost faster than the instant light that flooded the room.
"I heard what Crane said," Barry added, flicking a look at the teens, "The kids are living in their perfect world. That's why they're so...happy looking."
"I know." Batman sighed, his eyes falling onto Robin. The teen's smile was clearly spread across his face, small and shy like he'd won the lottery and couldn't believe it was real. Blissfully unaware of his true surroundings, the boy was...pleased. A small part of Bruce broke. He would obviously wake them up, but it'd hurt Robin – it'd hurt Dick – to open his eyes back to reality.
He cursed Scarecrow, who'd taken his fear and warped it in horrible ways – he'd made the real world the nightmare, and even Bruce couldn't create a cure for reality. He couldn't replace a mother's touch or a father's embrace; even if he'd come to think of Robin as his son, he couldn't bridge a gap of that magnitude. Not for lack of effort, though, not because Dick was unwilling – but Bruce knew that pain. Alfred had become his father much like Batman imagined himself to be to Robin, and had even come to love Alfred like a father – that hadn't wiped his dad from Bruce's heart, hadn't made up for his mother's love. It wouldn't for Dick, either. Crane had opened scars that'd never heal. And that was just Robin – what did the other seven see? What wounds had been uncovered just to bleed again? There was no antidote for heartbreak.
"Come on," Batman said stiffly, gliding over to the pods, "We have work to do,"
Flash nodded, rushing up to his nephew's pod and examining a few wires linked into the machine, probing them delicately in his hands and trying to figure out what did what. After a minute or so of eyeballing the mess of cords and loose wiring, he looked over to see Bruce doing the same with Robin's. The detective was kneeling by Robin's pod, and had pulled out a device that functioned similarly to the Boy Wonder's glove and plugged it into some of the wiring. He was clicking away at a holographic keyboard, multiple windows were pulled up at once, and his face had been claimed by a contemplative expression.
"Any luck, Bats?" Flash asked, shooting a look at Wally. The redhead's chest was moving up and down at a deep and even pace – much too much slowly. Flash briefly considered vibrating his molecules through the glass and pulling his nephew out, but his thoughts were interrupted by Bruce.
"The pods should be opening in a few seconds," Batman informed the older speedster, who stepped back from Kid's pod as a lulling whir pulsated throughout machines and the glass walls slid down. It only took moments, but somehow time seemed to drag on as the pods' glass walls slithered away. The floor appeared to swallow the glass, and then the barriers were gone.
Employing his superspeed, Flash was the first to move, his body unfolding like a loaded spring.
He zoomed up to Kid Flash, hardly pausing as he detached the handcuffs from around Wally's wrists and then unhinged the shackles around his feet as well. He caught his nephew's body just as it started to fall forwards, electrodes snapping off of his body and away from his temples, leaving his costume and skin free from any evidence of his previous containment. As his nephew had fallen forwards, Barry had caught sight of a faint bruise near the base of Wally's skull from where the trash can had hit him. Worry lit up his senses like fire does to dry leaves – not because of the wound, but because it should have been healed by now.
"Wally, how are you-" Flash began, turning the boy forwards in his hands only to stop when he caught sight of the boy's still dreamy expression. Wally's eyes were still tightly shut and a grin still tugged at the corners of his lips.
"Kid, wake up." Flash said carefully, shaking Wally's shoulder's a bit. Kid's head rocked back and forth a bit from the motion, but didn't stir. Carefully, Flash lifted one of Wally's eyelids, peering down at them. His irises didn't shrink in response to the light, and they were glazed over, seeing something aside from his uncle's face as worry and shock sprawled across it and overtook his previously relived smile.
"Batman," Flash said urgently, "He's not waking up."
"None of them are," Batman replied, holding Robin in his arms, a wistful smile gracing the boy's features.
Artemis stretched as she woke up, mildly surprised to find herself back in her room, sprawled out over her bed. The soft sheets were unceremoniously dumped on top of her, and as she propped herself up on her elbows, she found the pillow had been messily shoved under her head – which meant only a corner of it had managed to wedge itself under her.
Searching her mind for what had happened the night before, Artemis threw the green comforter off of her and slung her legs over the bed, working out the stiffness in her limbs as she yawned and swiped her hair from out of her eyes. She found she was still in her clothes, and with a start memory flooded over her – she'd snuck out and gone to Gotham to see her mom's apartment and had found a decayed building in its place. Artemis felt bile rise up in her mouth, but swallowed it when she thought of Roy. The older archer had followed her, found her crying and broken down, and instead of belittling her for her disbelief and foolish hope, he'd comforted her. He'd shared his past, his pain, and his hurt instead of ridiculing her own. His mistrusting and arrogant demeanor had melted away, and she'd caught sight of a part of Roy that felt like an older brother instead of a rival. And maybe he was – after all, they'd been adopted by the same people. Artemis shook her head and quickly got dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and tank top before exiting the room, wrapping her blonde hair into a quick ponytail as she went.
She walked down the hallway, keeping an eye out for Roy so she could thank him. As she traveled down the hallway, she saw Roy's door cracked open and figured he must be awake. When she peered into his room though, she found that he was asleep on his bed, his legs hanging off the end of it and his arms messily strewn about. She rolled her eyes when she found he hadn't even bothered to get under his covers, and had just thrown on some pajama pants and taken off his shirt before collapsing on his bed. She even smiled a bit when she heard the older archer let out a snore that was possibly louder than a chainsaw – she'd never figured Roy as one to snore. Trying not to snort herself, Artemis carefully shut the door, a hushed little click squeaking out as she did so.
"He's as bad Oliver – and they're not even related. I swear, they are going to wake up the neighbors one day," an amused voice commented from behind her, and Artemis turned to see Black Canary – Dinah – standing behind her, dressed in a tight sports jersey and jeans, her arms crossed over her chest with an affectionate smile on her face, "I'm glad you're an early riser like me though – want to make breakfast?" the blonde asked.
"Uh, sure." Artemis shrugged, and she followed Dinah into the kitchen.
"You remember what we need to make pancakes, right?" Dinah asked as they walked into the kitchen, ducking under the counter and pulling out a box of pancake mix.
Artemis started to shake her head before she found herself nodding, "Yeah." She answered, and she walked over to the fridge, starting to pull out ingredients and line them up on the counter.
"I thought so," Dinah smiled, and she set a bowl out and went to stand over by Artemis. Both of them started working on the batter, slipping into small talk about school and things. Just as Artemis started to fall into rhythm with cooking and talking, Dinah paused and took a deep breath.
"Artemis, I know that the simulation that the doctor's put you guys through was hard on you and Roy. Last night at the table, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and I'm very sorry-"
"No," Artemis interrupted, eyeing Dinah, "I'm sorry," Artemis took a breath, not sure what else she had to say but knowing there was still so much left unsaid, "…I just – In the simulation I was in, my mother was still alive. She'd just been paralyzed in an accident, but she hadn't been – she wasn't –" Artemis stopped, weakly stirring the batter around in the bowl, no longer to meet Dinah's eyes, "I miss her."
"Oh, Artemis…" the older woman murmured, a look of sympathy crawling into her expression.
Before she even knew what was going on, she felt Dinah's arms wrap around her shoulders and pull Artemis into a hug. The younger archer felt herself stiffen at first, unused to ever being hugged by anyone aside from her mother, but then relaxed into the hold before she returned it. She felt weak tears fall from her eyes and slide down her cheeks, but she fought them off and they stopped before she could have called it crying.
"You know," Dinah said slowly, forcing Artemis to look her in the eyes by unwrapping herself from the hug, her baby blue eyes warm and carrying as they stared into gray ones, "I know I'm not your mother, and I won't ask you to think of me that way, but I've always thought of you as my daughter."
Artemis stared back, letting silence envelope the room for a minute before she replied, "Maybe one day I will too," She said softly, an echo of a smile playing on her lips.
Dinah reached up and brushed off Artemis's few tears off her cheek before smiling and giving her hands a small clap.
"Well, that was a bit emotional for this early in the morning. Come on and let's hurry up with the pancakes – the boys will wake up soon, and Ollie wants to take you two to the archery range." Dinah murmured, and started pouring pancakes onto a griddle that she'd gotten out earlier.
"Sounds fun." Artemis agreed.
Thirty minutes later she heard a thump and suddenly Roy's voice drifted into the air, muttering a light curse before he shouted, "Stepped on a lego! I don't even own legos!"
Artemis and Dinah shot each other a hushed smile and whiles they quieted thier giggles. Artemis suddenly felt a closeness to everyone that she hadn't ever had before – so that's what it was like to be part of a real family. She could used to that.
Maybe she already had.
Author's Note: Okay, my internet is fuzzy – it's turning off and on and I can't say when I'll be able to update. I'll try to as often as I can, whenever I have a new chapter and the internet is working again! Thank you for the marvelous reviews! You guys are seriously some of the best reviews I've ever had!