When he had returned to the reservoir, the first thing Crane checked on was the status of the toxin. He needed to know how much had been placed into the reservoir so that he could judge how soon he could release it all. The Phantasm's reluctance to engage in the plan was disappointing, but he was sure that once everything came to fruition, his colleague would see the proverbial light.

But why he was so determined to change the other man's mind, he did not know. Why was he becoming obsessed about it? Was it an attempt to fight against one of mankind's oldest fears, the fear of being alone?

That was an interesting question, but he felt there was something deeper to it. However, now was not the time to analyze it. If he knew the Phantasm as well as he thought, the killer would be following him here to make one last attempt. It was somewhat miraculous how he had gotten away the first time; the former researcher doubted he would have a second.

"This is the last truck," the driver informed him, the man looking uneasy as he glanced at Crane. "We're just about to unload it."

Nearby, he could see another one of his workers attaching an industrial hose to the truck. The other end was not connected to anything, but not for long Nearby was a panel with an access pipe, one that connected directly to the water supply and was typically used to pump fluoride.

It would serve the Scarecrow's purposes tonight.

"Once you've finished here, go back to the factory. Start making more," the fear-based criminal instructed. "I'll handle everything else here."

Turning away, he began to head towards a building, one that would lead into the bowels of this place. It wouldn't be long now.

Urgency had the arriving vigilantes on edge. Despite his return, this was the first time Batman had raised the alarm. In the middle of their own tasks, the members of the Network had to break off what they were doing, or finishing as quickly as they could, get across the river, and reach the Gotham Reservoir.

Not all had arrived, but time was of the essence. Batman noted with disappointment that not even half of the assembling vigilantes were here. Manhunter, Huntress, and Katana had only just showed up. Black Canary, Green Arrow, and the Batclan had yet to arrive. Unfortunately, they didn't have the time to wait.

Crane could release his poison at any second.

With Zatanna at his side, he ordered, "We need to move, now."

"Hold up, what the hell's going on?" Huntress interrupted, holding a hand up.

Not even stopping, the Dark Knight filled them in, "Jonathan Crane is poisoning the city's water supply with his fear toxin. Any minute now, he could release it and poison the whole city. We can't let him do that."

He could hear the silence from the women, but he did hear them following after him. They were grasping the severity of the situation quickly, much to his satisfaction.

"What's the plan?" Manhunter asked. "How are we going to stop this?"

Recalling what Andrea had told him, he answered, "Crane's not alone; he hired people to help him mass produce the toxin. We need to stop them from further tainting the water. That'll be your jobs. Take down anyone who resists. I'll go after Crane myself."

"Why do you get to go after the big bad? Think we can't handle him?" the brunette vigilante demanded.

"If he gets desperate, he could flood the water system with the tainted water before he's finished. I would prefer to be the one he focuses his attention on, only if it buys more time to stop him. No matter what, we need to do whatever it takes to stop Crane."

It didn't need to be said that killing the madman was out of the question. There was also the implication that the Dark Knight himself would take the blame should they fail.

Coming to an abrupt stop, the bat-themed vigilante looked up into the sky just as a red-clad figure flew overhead. The flying person abruptly fell to the ground in front of him, Batman not impressed by the theatrics. Already he knew who this was.

"Sorry I'm late. The others are coming as fast as they can," Red Robin reported. "What's going on?"

"Kid, we're already on the way to save the day," Huntress stated bluntly. "Keep up and we'll brief you on the way."

"No, you all go on ahead. I need to speak with Red Robin," Batman interrupted. While he wasn't pleased that Tim Drake was back in Gotham, for whatever reason it was, his mind was already moving ahead, thinking of options that were now available. One of the things he had done when he had made his return was look into all the capabilities of the Network, any improvements they had made to their arsenals, as well as developments in their skills.

While he got some looks from Zatanna and the Birds, his eyes were only on the teen as he squirmed somewhat under his gaze. However, the other vigilantes did as he ordered. Soon, it was just the two males by themselves.

"Uh, you want something?" Red Robin asked nervously.

"I need you to do something," Batman stated, a hand reaching towards his belt. "Listen carefully and don't ask questions. We're running out of time as it is."

Trucks dotted the area, a bunch of men in white work uniforms all over the place. The trucks sat idly, many of the men standing around either doing mundane activities to entertain themselves, or shooting the breezes between one another. Only a couple of them looked to be at work, monitoring a hose that connected one of the trucks to the dam wall that held the waters of the reservoir.

The flow of liquid could be heard in the hose, the storage container that the truck cab pulled humming as it pumped more and more of the toxin out. It would take some time do as they had only just begun. Once this truck was finished, though, they would be done and heading on back.

At least, that was the plan before a woman in a purple costume arrived, holding a bo staff in their faces threateningly. The men's eyes widened at the scowl the woman wore, her dark hair waving under a slight breeze.

"Okay, assholes, what's it going to be? Easy way, or the hard way?" Huntress demanded. While she had been tempted to go for a full frontal assault, the risk of alerting Crane was too great for that. After spotting these two loners here, she had requested that Zatanna send her right here, out of sight of the rest of the men so that she could get the metaphorical jump on them. She also made the request there be no pink smoke, or rainbows, or any cutesy thing the magical might throw out.

She fully expected a fight, because everyone chose the hard way.

To her surprise, the two white-clad men each took a step away from her, their hands held up in the air and their eyes wide. This...was not the kind of reaction she was expecting.

"Sheesh, lady, we're just doing what we were told," one of the men said hastily. "Don't hurt us, or anything!"

Huntress raised an eyebrow. Were they trying to play innocent? "You do know you're pumping poison into the water supply, right?"

If their eyes were wide before, they were practically saucers at that point. "Poison?! He never said anything 'bout no poison!"

Were...were they playing dumb? How did they not know what they were doing? Was Crane so reckless he wouldn't tell the people he was paying what they were really doing? "Pull the other one. I'm calling bullshit."

"Lady, he just offered to give me some cash if I would work for him. That's it!" one man exclaimed. "I just wanted some food and a hot shower! He never told me what the stuff we were making was! You have to believe me!"

Wow, they were really sticking to that story. She'd give props for the acting if she hadn't heard that ring of desperation in the man's voice. The guy really and truly wanted her to believe him. His body language also screamed that he had no intention of fighting her, the same with his buddy.

Were these guys some dupes that Crane had conned?

Without warning, a large hand clamped down on her shoulder, and instinctively she swung her bo staff at whoever was behind her. To her ire, whoever it was caught the upper part of the weapon and held it. Twisting her head around, she noted the large man behind her wore the same white uniform that everyone else here was wearing, but it was the distinctive nose that really caught her attention. It reminded her of some mook that may have at one time worked for her father. She couldn't single one out since, really, they kinda all blurred together after a while.

"Dis here is off limits, no masks 'llowed," the man growled and with a very thick Italian accent.

Oh yeah, this creep had definitely worked for her father before.

"The hell are you doing!" one of the men behind her demanded.

"Back ta work, mooks. Let me handle dis," the larger man growled. With attention diverted, Huntress knew an opportunity when she saw it.

So she took it, slipping her bo staff out of his grip and with a spin, slammed one end into the side of this knee. With a cry, the rough customer's legs buckled under him and down he went, completely at the vigilante's mercy. Whether he had worked with her father in the past or not, she didn't care, but this was more like it.

Time to start kicking ass.

"We have some trouble out here! Some retards in capes, what do you want us to do about it?"

Crane wasn't surprised; nothing was surprising in this city anymore. Those who were shocked needed to readjust their beliefs about Gotham.

"Stop them. Don't let any of them get past you," is what the Scarecrow answered. Tossing the handheld radio onto the desk of the reservoir's director, the master of fear left the small office to head off to complete his scheme. Beside the piece of furniture, the director's body crouched on the floor, leaning against the desk, his face frozen in horror while his hands clenched at his chest. His heart couldn't take the fear.

Down the hallway, the costumed man hurried, his pace fast and his strides long. He remembered the last time a man in a cape interrupted his operation and he was not going to allow any time for these interlopers to repeat the past.

Entering a room, large equipment that was currently silent lined the walls. Pumping machines, he was vaguely aware, and inoperable until he turned them on. Further into the dam, he would find what he needed to bring his latest experiment under way.

The greatest inducement of fear since the October 27th attack was at hand, and this time he would be able to observe it personally. Arkham would not confine him this time.

Movement up ahead brought him to a sudden stop. Narrowing his eyes behind his mask, Scarecrow waited to see who else was here. Alert, he studied the area he thought he had spied movement earlier...and there it was. This unexpected guest was moving out of the shadows, and the former psychologist readied his needle gauntlet.

He felt some surprise when it was none other than the Phantasm, re-emerging onto the scene once more. Unlike the last time, the killer had his cape pulled back over his shoulders, exposing the body hidden under the gray-colored cloth for all the world to see. That also meant that bladed right hand was clearly visible, designed to attract all attention once spotted.

"This goes no further, Crane," the Phantasm stated, not stopping in his march towards the fear-themed villain.

"I'm beginning to think you don't appreciate my efforts," Scarecrow accused his colleague. "I'm doing this to help you, my friend. No one will be able to stop you once I release the tainted water."

"I am not your friend, Dr. Crane. Nor do I drag others into my business against their will," the killer retorted. "I will not let you poison a city for your satisfaction, or your claim that you are helping me."

"Why do you care? Those people, those 'innocents' are meaningless. They scurry about their lives in fear, never seeing the grand picture for what it is," the needle-wielding man spat out, his hooded colleague stopping his approach for the moment, as if to hear him out one last time. "They're nothing to people like us, people who are greater than them. You and I, we have a grander purpose. We both understand fear in ways they never will. More importantly, we know how to use it for the weapon it truly is.

"But there is so much left to learn. What is fear truly capable of? And how can people like us better utilize it? This needs to happen, my friend. The knowledge gained is too priceless to ignore. The two of us? We're in this together against the world. Why can't we go back to how it used to be? You using the fruits of my labors to its full effect, and I providing you with whatever you need to become a god, no, a titan of fear? Just think what we could accomplish."

"I have no need for your delusions of grandeur. This was a business transaction and nothing more." The Phantasm resumed his march once more only now holding his bladed hand up. "I will end this here and now."

Were he a lesser man, he would have demanded to know why, why was the only person he felt understood fear like himself opposing him like this? A fellow practitioner resisting the siren call of fear and preventing the mass spread of it through a city already thoroughly terrorized.

No, persuasion would not work here. If it were possible for such a method to work, it already would have. Crane would have to show him then; show this man what he was offering.

Now there was a thought, why was he so dead set on including this other man in his future plans? Even he had to admit this was beyond fascination. Normally, he would have allowed this killer to go on his way a long time ago, so why this person? That was a question to answer later, after he had released his toxin into the water system.

The Phantasm was upon him suddenly, slashing with that blade. Crane ducked under it, even as he stab forth with his needles. The hooded murderer jumped back to evade, darting back in only as Scarecrow pulled his weaponized hand back. The pair engaged in a flurry of slashes and stabs, each one managing to dodge and evade the other before failing their counterattacks.

Scarecrow was not the most physically active individual, and this was a losing game for him. It would only be a matter of time until his physical inactivity reared its head and forced him into a fatal mistake. That could not happen.

At the same time, he was getting a different view of his colleague and he noted with a sharp eye how much slimmer the man really was. Also curvier. That didn't make sense. And why was he noticing such physical traits?

Even though he knew it was a waste, he triggered an aerosol blast of his gaseous fear toxin, spewing it into the Phantasm's face. It would serve as a smokescreen and allow him the chance to try and slip away. The switch up ahead was so close, yet so far.

The Phantasm was swiping at the gas-based poison with his gloved hand, trying to unobstruct his vision. Already, Crane was putting some distance between them, moving at a measured pace. Move too slow and any progress made was undone by a faster opponent. Move to fast, and you stood to make a mistake like tripping and in effect undo all progress made there as well.

Maybe it was because of this that he noticed how the Phantasm paused and glanced over his shoulder. That directed the Scarecrow's attention to a new noise, that of rapidly approaching footsteps. Perhaps his old colleague recognize whoever it was because he was covering himself in the fear toxin-laced smoke that he knew the hooded man to use. As predicted, the killer was fleeing, but in his place, the incoming interloper arrived.

Scarecrow knew this person; even now he had the flashbacks to that cell in Gotham. That dark colors, the horned cowl, those blank white eyes, hell, even the aggressive stance was recognized.

You never forgot the person who electrocuted you with a toilet.

"This ends here Crane," the Batman declared as he arrived on the scene. The voice—the voice!—that only emphasized that this was indeed that man who had stopped him back at the Phizer plant. The same man whose body was thrown into the streets broken and bloodied by Bane. The words he spoke triggered a rage in Crane's head and only four words popped up in his head.

Like hell it did.

Forgoing any fear-based assault, Scarecrow went for one more basic. He pulled out a standard handgun and opened fire, forcing the vigilante to jump for cover. Choosing not to stay, Scarecrow ran out of the room and deeper into the pumping station.

Time was up and he needed to complete his plan immediately.

Whatever it takes to do so.

And with that, Red Robin had completed the job that Batman had assigned to him. While he was used to the explosives used in his throwing projectiles, which still needed a better name, the kind the Dark Knight had placed in his hands were definitely a step or ten above what he was able to handle.

The set of instructions given to him were how to turn it on and then where he needed to put it. Also finish as soon as possible; nothing else needed to be said after that.

So for the next several minutes had been heart pounding, because Batman was depending on him to succeed here and the fact it was him, the prodigal...vigilante who was being the one depended on, he did not want to let one of the greatest heroes in the world down.

From there, he had found the place where the reservoir connected to the city via a lot of large pipes. Who knew how much water was rushing around in those things? Ignoring them, Red Robin had placed the explosives where the pipes exited the dam-like structure that was the water plant, and activated them as he had been told.

Good, hopefully they wouldn't be needed. In meantime, he would get as far away as he could, maybe help out up above if there was any fighting.

Taking down the first guy was easy, especially since he thought he was all that and had no clue to how well Huntress could fight. The downside was that he brought the other members of security to try and take her down.

It looked like there were nine others, all of them big and burly. Had Crane stereotyped them, or something? Whatever, the main point was that there were only nine hostiles. The rest of the white-dressed men were backing away, trying to make themselves small, or fleeing. Fighters they were not.

Speaking of fights…

One of the large men came charging at her, fist raised up and his intentions obvious. Like a skilled fighter, she waited until he threw his punch before she slipped out of the way, swinging her bo staff into his gut. Tensing her arms, she gave her wrists a twist and used the larger man's momentum to pick him up off the ground and the throw him, causing the big guy to land on the pavement face first.

A second man who was running at her slowed his charge dramatically, his eyes wide. While his shock left him open, Huntress' attention was on the men behind him, two of them pulling out handguns. Great, some or all of them were armed.

Cue Katana rushing in and slicing the guns with one of those short swords she was using nowadays. Right on time, like usual. Even as the barrels of the guns were falling off, the sword-wielding vigilante was driving the butt of one of her swords into a man's face, taking him down in an instant. Should have called out "timber!" while it happened.

Off to a side, Manhunter jumped into the fray, swinging her staff low and tripping three of the guards. Diverting their attention towards her, Manhunter held her staff at the ready, waiting for the three to pick themselves up. Two were quick to do so, their hands balled into fists. The third was taking his time, and by that he was pulling out a pistol.

Credit was due when the Bird of Prey went for the gun-wielder first, somehow cutting in-between the two guys between her and the greater threat. The gunman was getting into a crouch, starting to turn when Manhunter's staff cracked against the gun hand and knocked the weapon away. A booted foot slammed into the man's face quite viciously and down he went again.

Turning her attention back to man closest to her, Huntress noted the a second had come up to the guy's side, backing him up. She narrowed her eyes as she drew up a plan in her head on what to do.

Suddenly, she became aware of the truck beside her and the hose that connected it to the dam. The vehicle's hum penetrated her thoughts, and how she had something else she needed to do.

Balancing her staff in one hand while holding it defensively, she slipped out a handle from which a sharp blade snapped out. Spinning on her heel, she rushed in the direction opposite of the two men. If her hearing was right, she could hear them running after her.

Holding her knife out, she swung it forward and underhanded, slicing it into the large hose that continued to pump its contents merrily. The material that made up the hose didn't stand a chance and the cutting edge of the blade sliced through it without any resistance. No sooner had that happened that the liquid-based fear toxin spewed out, drenching the pavement as the trunk continued to pump it out.

Huntress was on the other side of the growing puddle by then, and her pursuers were running through it. Hmm, they weren't slipping in it, probably because the concrete was saturated enough. Oh well, back to what worked.

Already retracting and putting the knife back where she kept it, she returned her hand back to her staff and pulled a one-eighty, swinging the long pole along. The guy to the right ducked, but the one on the left wasn't as quick. Her staff caught him in the side of the face and forced his head into the cab of the truck. A cry from one of the bystanding men reminded her of the spectators here who hadn't joined the fight, making her think they really were telling the truth earlier.

However, that meant nothing as the man who had avoided her swing pounced on her, getting his large, beefy hands on her weapon. Huntress adjusted her grip and pushed back against the larger man's strength, refusing to let him have her best metal friend here.

Time to have some fun with this guy.

Batman didn't remember Crane being this fast. Based on his memory of the man, he had never seen him run before.

But he knew exactly where he was heading and that could not be allowed. Pulling out a bola, he spun it for a second before throwing it at the fleeing criminal, aiming for the legs. Crane looked over his shoulder at the most optimal second and then did the most surprising thing that the Dark Knight hadn't expected.

He jumped over the bola.

Hmm, out of everyone he had chased, this was a first and it was done by Crane of all people.

Finishing his jump, Crane turned his body enough to fire a couple shots back at him. Thanks to the poor lighting in the corridor, Batman couldn't accurately predict where the shots were aimed. His evasive maneuvers, as a result, were more time consuming and had him covering a larger amount of space which slowed him down incrementally.

Not good; he couldn't let this madman arrive at his destination.

Arms pumping at his sides, he quickened his pace, his black cape flapping behind him in his wake. Up ahead, Crane turned a corner at a T-intersection, disappearing from sight as he took a left. Batman sped up, skidding his feet against the linoleum floor as he struggled to make the turn while losing the least amount of speed. His shoulder impacted the wall, but he was able to brush it aside thanks to the body armor's padding.

Dead ahead, the Scarecrow's shrinking dark figure raced away. Pushing down on his legs, the vigilante gave chase. The hallway was a blur, his attention only on the fleeing man. The seconds were moving too quickly for his liking as every one that passed with Crane on the run meant one less second he had to stop him.

The chase left the hallway, entering a large room filled with various computer panels and monitors, pipes running along the walls alongside insulated cables. Batman was closing in on his quarry, his personal fitness better than Crane's and allowing him to shorten the distance between them quickly.

Unfortunately, that was when the Scarecrow began skidding to a stop, his booted feet squealing against the floor. Reaching what looked like a circuit box that extended from a wall quite prominently, the former psychologist held a hand against it, fingers pressed up against a black, innocuous switch.

"Stay back!" Crane roared at him, snapping his head around to face the Dark Knight. Coming to a stop, the vigilante allowed his cape to fall over his shoulders, hiding his arms from sight. Though he appeared calm and grim on the outside, on the inside he was cursing. "Stay where you are! Don't take another step closer!"

He could hear the exertion in the other masked man's voice, the thin chest practically heaving from all the physical activity. Thanks to the burlap mask, the researcher's eyes were hidden, but the vigilante was sure that they were trained on him.

"There's nowhere to go, Crane," he stated. "You're not going to get away."

"Not quite," Scarecrow retorted. "Right now, you're not to take another step towards me. Do so, and I flick this little switch here. I know, it doesn't look like much, but if you knew the power it held… You stay where you are. Stay and watch as everything I've worked for becomes cruel reality."

"Put your hands in the air, Crane. I will not tell you a second time," the Dark Knight stated, his eyes narrowed as he took in the other man's body language, fully alert for any shift, or change that would signal any major movement.

"Right. Not this time. You don't have a toilet with you to threaten me this time," Crane chortled. "I'm the one with the power and you're at my mercy. I'm quite enjoying the reversal, aren't you?"

"This is your last chance."

"Or what? You'll beat me up? Send me to Arkham to rot in a cage? Not this time, Batman. No, this time, I win. And if you're really serious about saving Gotham, you'll stand aside and let me do this. You of all people stand to gain the most from my actions tonight," Crane declared.

He highly doubted that. Based on everything he knew about Crane, he held himself and whatever he did in high regard. Everything had a grand purpose, one that made him more important just by being involved.

"I fail to see where poisoning seven million people would help me," he growled.

"Who cares about those little people and their little lives?" Crane spat out. "I'm talking about someone bigger. You know who I'm talking about: Bane."

What did Bane have anything to do with this? The vigilante went on to demand an answer for that question. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Who do you think will also be affected? You can't tell me you haven't considered gaining any edge you can over that brute," Scarecrow taunted. Due to his mask, it was impossible to tell if he was smirking, though his tone of voice was smug. "Think about it: with my toxin in his system, he'll be vulnerable. You will finally be able to take him down, save your city, and be the hero like you always are. You'll need every advantage; he did beat you once before. What's to say he won't do it again?"

As much as he didn't want to, he had to admit there was some logic to what Crane was saying. When he had faced Bane all those months ago, he'd relied solely on his skills and fighting prowess combined with an affinity for improvisation. None of it had been enough and the price had been him being decommissioned, paralyzed for weeks on end. Bane was simply too strong and intelligent to take head-on.

What was the harm in gaining an edge, no matter what it was?

The answer came to him immediately. "If you think I'm going to let you expose innocent people to your toxin, I don't care what advantage I could get. I'll take down Bane my way, without your help."

"Oh, ever the bleeding heart," Scarecrow spat. "No wonder you lost the first time. You can't do it, can you? You can't go all out, doing everything you can for precious victory. No, you have to have morals to hold you back. They're what's going to get you killed next time, and I'm willing to bet like everyone else, you too have a fear of death."

"I don't fear death," Batman retorted, and nothing felt truer than those words in that moment.

"Lie to me, but don't lie to yourself," was the answering taunt. "There's only one thing we both can agree on and that is Bane is not afraid of you. Everyone else might be, but not him. And he's the one you need to be afraid of you, more than ever. Otherwise, it'll end the same way it did last time."

"I wouldn't worry about Bane," he countered. "He'll be handled in due time. When I'm ready."

"And when will that be?" Crane mocked. "Your associates have been doing a bang-up job. Do you really think Gotham can take anymore? This is only the final push to give in to its fears."

"Not gonna happen. This is your one and final chance to end this before I take matters into my own hands."

"Your hands? You're all the way over there. You can try to throw one of those bat things you have, but do you think it'll be able to reach me in time? I need a simple flick of my fingers. You need to do so much more than that. But do tell me, Dark Knight, how are you going to save the day this time?" Scarecrow sneered.

The vigilante gave a smirk. He withdrew a hand from under his cape, holding a small cylinder-shaped device, a thumb held over a small button. "Like this."

He pressed the button.

An explosion ripped across the dam, a thunderous roar tearing through the night. Pieces of the damn were flung into the air, twisting metal screeching as it turned against its will

From atop the structure, Huntress whipped her head around, her eyes wide as she caught the sight of the giant fireball spreading out in all directions, licking the sides of the concrete structure. She could feel violent tremors running through the concrete under her feet and she could only wonder what had just happened.

Judging by how they were trying to stop a city from being poisoned, she couldn't tell if an explosion was a good thing, or a bad thing. Usually they were bad so what did this all mean?

She got an answer when a certain flying teen dropped down nearby. "That was us, don't worry about it!" Red Robin told her, his voice loud enough that it carried over. "Looks like he had to use the backup plan!"

The backup plan? Blowing up the reservoir was the backup plan? Oh, she was going to have a word with that guy later, but right now, the objective was making sure nobody got away first.

"What was that?" Scarecrow asked warily, his finger still over the switch. "What did you do?"

"What I had to do to stop you. I blew up the pipes that connect the city with the reservoir," Batman stated, lowering his hand that still held the detonator, pocketing the device.

"You WHAT!?" Crane exclaimed, shock coloring his voice. "But...but...do you know what you've done?! You've taken away Gotham's water supply! You've crippled your own city!"

"Better crippled than poisoned by you," the Dark Knight retorted, taking his first step towards the madman. "You're done, Crane. No one is ever going to suffer through your experiment."

"You're lying! You couldn't have!" Crane sounded as if he was grasping at straws, trying to deny the reality that the vigilante had given him.

"You can press that switch anytime you want; it will accomplish nothing," he calmly continued, verbally attacking the man.

"You...what have…" By now Crane was sputtering. His hand had fallen away from the now useless switch, a part of him believing the vigilante while another fought to remain in denial.

"What's the matter, Crane? You're not chatty anymore," Batman said, before allowing a small smirk to curl his lips. "Could it be that you're...scared?"

Crane went ramrod straight and the vigilante could imagine eyes full of hatred glaring at him. What he didn't have to imagine was Crane giving a roar as he leaped at the Dark Knight, a hand held in front of him where four very prominent needles extended from the fingers.

Waiting, Batman acting at the last second, catching the crazed scientist by that extended arm and throwing him over his shoulder. Crane's momentum sent him flying over the vigilante, his body crashing into one of the large panels that filled the room, his body falling onto and bouncing off the floor once before coming to a stop.

Turning to fully face the masked lunatic, Batman calmly strolled to the man as he was pushing himself up. His right hand made a jerking motion, and the four needles that he had intended on stabbing into the still-standing crime-fighter was pulled out of his body. Crane held the hand in front of his masked face, his body beginning to heave as he took deep breaths.

Based on what he had been told about Crane from the Network, Batman had a pretty good idea of what had happened, which is why he grabbed the Scarecrow by the front of his redesigned outfit and pulled him up, forcing the thinner man to get a good look at him. From this distance, he could see through the eye holes, Crane's eyes wide and his pupils dilating. What was it that this fear-obsessed man saw?

Whatever it was, it had to be terrifying, because Crane let out a bloodcurdling scream, one that echoed throughout room and the hallways beyond.

A strong sedative was enough to keep the terrified Crane knocked out as he was dragged by the leg down the hallway. Loud screaming got old after a while and keeping the poisoned man out of it would make it easier to put him back in his cell at Arkham. Blackgate would be preferable, but the prison was still in the process of being repaired.

In the meantime, he needed to find out the extent of the damage made to the reservoir, as well as the status on the other vigilantes. How many people Crane had dragged into his scheme also needed to be found out. The extent of this threat was too great and there hadn't been enough time to investigate it.

However, all of that would have to wait a moment. Someone was standing up ahead, blocking his way.

It wasn't any of the other vigilantes; they would have been preferable.

Coming to a stop, Batman stared down the Phantasm. Of course she showed up; he was far from surprised. He could see how Andrea was staring down at the unconscious Crane. He could care less about what was running through her mind; if he had to, he would protect the madman from his ex.

But Andrea said nothing and the silence grated on the Dark Knight's nerves.

"What do you want?" he demanded when Andrea made no move to say, or do anything.

Her shoulders slumped, though her cape hid it well. Her hooded head bowed forward, as if the costumed woman was gazing at the floor, avoiding his eyes. "You have every right not to trust me."

Where was this coming from? Was she not here to kill once again, in spite of that confession on the GCPD rooftop?

"If...if there is anyone you can trust," Andrea continued, "trust Lucius Fox."

He had not been expecting that. Why was she bringing up Lucius, and why now? What did he have to do with anything? "What are you talking about?" he demanded, taking a step closer to his ex.

"There are threats you cannot see right now. Be careful who you keep close," Andrea said cryptically before enveloping herself in her smoke.

Batman was more than tempted to demand more information of her, to get more answers that she did not appear to be willing to share. However, as she vanished from sight, he knew it was a moot point. She was already gone and giving chase would be a waste of time. Plus, he still had to take care of Crane.

As the smoke cleared and revealed an empty hallway once more, Batman continued dragging the unconscious man behind him, determined to bring this long night to an end.