jacksparrowlovesme - Dude, you need to pay attention. Manbat's been there forever, just in the background doing batty type things.
Lord Nitro - For the sake of the common enemy, Penguin and Ivy are 'getting along'. There's a whole bunch of other factions, notable are the one's lead by Joker, Penguin and Mr. Freeze.
Guest - I enjoy writing Crane. He can be a complex creature.
Nomes - I can't wait either! XD
Chapter Twenty-One: Untamed Youth
**Crane**
The soft sounds of the EKG machine was the only thing that touched the grave, dark silence of the warehouse.
Still perched on the edge of Firefly's bed, Crane sat with his hands folded in his lap, his head bent in rest.
"You care for Catwoman, don't you, professor?" Nightwing asked from where he had taken up roost in the rafters once more.
Opening his hands, Crane studied his palms, filthy and bloody from his night's adventure. "They say when a soldier has been through the trenches with another, they form a bond so tight it's likened to kin." Rousing himself by inhaling deeply, he raised his head. "Catwoman is a capable woman. I'm not worried, child."
Dropping to the ground, Nightwing grinned, "she is rather spirited, isn't she?"
Crane leapt to his feet as the door to the warehouse was smashed in, shattering into a million shards of rotten wood and metal. Grabbing a nearby empty IV stand to use as defence of Firefly's immobile body, he crouched into attack mode and waited.
No one came in through the door for minutes, and it put Crane into high alert mode, his every sense turning to tracking whoever blew open their door.
"What fresh hell is this?" Crane demanded.
A tall form marched through the remains of the smoking door, gun in hand. As they cleared the haze, Crane put to memory the simple red hood, the heavy duty black gear, the red bat shape on the man's chest and the very telling gun held aloft in the man's right hand.
Before Crane could react to the entrance of the Red Hood, Nightwing leapt into action, his bo staff in hand.
Red Hood aimed his gun at Nightwing, halting his approach.
"Easy," Red Hood warned in his deep, dark rasping tone.
"You're behind all of this?" Crane barked.
"No."
"Then what do you want?" Nightwing demanded.
"Scarecrow."
Crane stood up to his full height, towering over Red Hood. "Is that so? How sweet it is to be needed."
"I'll take the vegetable as well," Red Hood added.
"You'll take neither," Nightwing warned coldly. "I won't allow it."
"I'm taking both," Red Hood said. "And you're going to just stand there and watch me walk out."
"Like hell I am," Nightwing stated.
"I'll go," Crane said. "But you leave Firefly here. He's in no condition to be moved."
Red Hood's blue eyes flicked down to Lynns' prone body. "I should put him out of his misery." He murmured, raising another gun and aiming it at Firefly's head.
Crane moved to stand between the gun and Firefly. "Shooting an unarmed man isn't sporting, is it, child?"
"Do you remember the name of the man who you fear gassed last year? The one who got so terrified of the spider's that he jumped to his death out of a ten story window?" Red Hood demanded. "Because I find that very unsportsmanlike."
"Let the punishment fit the crime," Crane taunted. "Isn't that right, child?"
With his right arm still holding a gun trained on Nightwing, Red Hood calmly put his left hand pistol away in its holster, before grabbing Crane suddenly by the front of his costume and pulling him in to headbutt him hard.
Crane staggered back against Firefly's bed, his vision blurring, before the edges turned from grey to black and he passed out.
The first thing he registered was how much his head hurt.
It throbbed and felt like something was broken, but when his hand clumsily felt around he realize it was his nose that was broken.
Blinking, he woke up properly, finding himself in the back of what appeared to be a modified police van. Grating separated him from Red Hood in the driver's seat.
Inhaling deeply, Crane took his nose in both hands and cracked it back into place, breathing through the intense pain.
"I'd like my mask back," he demanded after the pain subsided enough for him to concentrate.
Red Hood said nothing.
"I am a highly priced commodity tonight," Crane mused to himself, loud enough for Red Hood to hear. "Flattering to a man with a need for a larger ego, annoying to a man who just wants to rest in peace."
"Soon," Red Hood returned.
That didn't sound comforting, though Crane wasn't expecting less from Red Hood.
"Are you behind these attacks, then?"
Red Hood was silent once more.
"Can a man who's fate has been sealed get an answer, at least?"
"I'm not the one hunting criminals down," Red Hood stated.
"Then why do you want me so badly, child?"
"Answers."
"Ah, is the vigilante about to rain some Old Testament justice upon the wicked?" Crane smirked wickedly, bringing his face in close to the grate to taunt the man. "It must be burning your soul up inside to have to hunt down someone who is doing your job only better, hmm?"
Red Hood reached back and banged the grate enough to push Crane back to his former position.
"Did you kill him then? Firefly?"
Red Hood was silent.
Crane hoped that the silence was positive, but he knew Red Hood. Hopefully Nightwing put up enough of a fight to chase the man off before he could have done anything unnecessary.
"The difference between you and I, child," Crane began softly. "Is that I'm sick and you're broken. I cannot help the lives I take, though I fought for years to avoid it, you have embraced your jagged edges and revel in your slaying."
The van pulled up in front of another abandoned warehouse on the waterfront of Gotham Bay.
Crane was beginning to think there was a serious depression going on in the city of Gotham since every warehouse he had seen in the past week had been abandoned and closed up.
Red Hood opened the back of the van and motioned Crane out.
Hopping down, Crane eyed the warehouse. Was this to be his tomb?
"Do you know how to use a gun?" Red Hood demanded.
"Point and pull the trigger," Crane suggested.
To his surprise Red Hood shoved a rifle into his hands along with a costume. "Put this on, it will bulk you up enough to be convincing. Whatever I say inside, you just play along, understand?"
Crane frowned, but nodded once, ducking back into the van to change into the costume.
When he emerged, he scowled. "Is this a bullet hole?" He demanded.
Red Hood said nothing, leading him towards the warehouse.
"Smells like blood," Crane continued to complain right up until they opened the door.
Oh, so he knows how to open a door without blowing it apart, Crane thought bitterly to himself, holding his rifle and trying to look intimidating as they stepped inside.
He had no idea what was going on, but if Red Hood told him to just go with it, he would, if only to sate his curiosity.
"Well?" A voice barked out into the darkness.
"Dead," Red Hood said. "They got to him first."
Crane frowned as from out of the darkness came a very familiar figure.
Catwoman looked healthy, but if he knew her as well as he was beginning to think he did, she also looked a little agitated.
Another form followed her from out of the darkness of the warehouse.
"Your job is getting easier," Anarky said. "Is there chaos still, in the streets?"
"The thugs you hired are making it hard for any criminal to get any rest. Everyone is on guard."
"Good. Pyg's formula has worn off, unfortunately, but I have more stages to this plan."
Suddenly it all made rather good sense. Anarky was fond of, well anarchy. The fact that no one knew just what the hell was going on, the drug, the symptoms, the killings, the ninja types. Confusion and chaos was indeed the order of the day. Or disorder, as it were. But where did Red Hood fit into the equation? And why was he wearing...who was it? Deadshot's costume? Why would the two of them partner up in order to carry out Anarky's somewhat pointless plot?
Crane had so, so many questions.
"Deadshot," Anarky began. "What about Firefly? Have we confirmed his death yet? My kitty friend here is just, oh, she's just so curious."
Crane cleared his throat.
Showtime.
"I haven't found his corpse yet," he declared in a tone he hoped was close enough to Deadshot's to be convincing. "But there was a lot of blood, I tracked it as far as I could before the trail turned cold."
"Good, keep tracking him, I want to be sure he's good and dead." Anarky declared.
"We've done what you asked," Red Hood stated. "I think we've earned the right to see our them. As proof they're being well cared for."
Anarky seemed to think this over.
"I'll allow it," he said. "From afar. Don't forget, I have the button for the bomb at my wrist," he warned Red Hood. "Don't worry. As long as you play your part, they won't be hurt. Only once anarchy reigns, can we restore order in a fashion only I can command. Anarchy is a necessary evil!"
"I have no intentions of anything, little man," Red Hood rasped.
"Bring them out."
Crane still had no idea what was going on, but he decided, for the moment, to go with it all as a woman and a small boy were brought out.
"Dad?" The boy asked Crane.
Reeling in disgust, Crane steeled himself for an Academy winning performance.
"Are you okay?" He asked the boy.
The child frowned a little, eyes darting from Crane to Red Hood and back.
"Eddie," Red Hood said. "Have they hurt you in anyway?"
Eddie, Crane sighed. Two in one night was too much.
"No, sir." The boy said. "When can we go home?"
"Soon," Crane assured, eyeing the woman in red beside the boy.
She seemed defiant and strong, her eyes never once leaving Red Hood. She nodded once to Red Hood and he returned it simply.
"Will you allow Deadshot to hug his son?" Red Hood demanded.
Please no, Crane scowled.
Anarky seemed to consider it.
"No," he said. "When Deadshot finds me the corpse of Firefly, then he may have a moment with his boy. Not until then."
Crane tried hard to remain still, though he was joyous inside at avoiding that fate.
"One hug," Red Hood argued. "From a father to his son?"
"When he earns it," Anarky insisted.
For a nice touched, Crane tightened his grip on his rifle and hissed, "that's my son and I would like to at least comfort him."
Anarky smiled. "Earn it. Go out and initiate stage three of my plan."
Red Hood remained still for a moment, before turning and heading out.
Crane remained for a moment, eyeing Catwoman who appeared unharmed, though a little pale.
Great, he realized, he was going to have to be the one to rescue her.
The thought of being a hero wafted after him like the stink from a skunk as he followed Red Hood out into the night.
They climbed into the van together in silence.
"Is Deadshot-"
"He got wounded in the line of duty," Red Hood said simply. "Just keep up the act and you'll be fine."
"I'm not worried about myself," Crane said. "Merely curious."
Red Hood, as usual, was silent.
They drove for a while, before Crane had to ask, "that young woman-"
Red Hood hit the brakes hard enough to send Crane flying against the dashboard.
"I got the message," Crane grumbled, sitting back and putting his seatbelt on. "I won't ask."
"I'm going to kill him," Red Hood stated simply.
"Good. You do that. In the meantime, why am I playing dress up for you? What's my motivation?"
"Survival."
"Point taken."
"He has Catwoman, I think you're interested in that part of this plan, yes?"
"I'm more interested in what stage three is."
"Stage three is the reason I changed my tactics."
"As my old friend the Mad Hatter would say, curiouser and curiouser."