AN: Title from a lyric in Alice in Chains' 'A Looking in View'. Takes place after 'Cloudburst'.

Jason wakes to phantom cackles ringing in his ears. He can't see much more than red blurs-searchlights or…?-and his body's aching. His throat's raw and his lungs are tired, like he's been screaming, and honest-to-God, he just wants to crawl into bed and hide for a week.

Where is he? Shit, his helmet's intact, right-?

"Boss!"

What now?

"Sir? Shit…Knight's down, I need immediate assis-"

No, no, helmet's okay, Batman…Batman.

That son of a bitch blew his tank to Kingdom Come (how?), Scarecrow is not gonna be happy…

"Belay that," he grinds out, sucking deep breaths between his teeth and resolutely not remembering that Batman dragged him out of the ruined tank. Like he had a choice, with his 'thou shalt not kill' 'n all. "Drouot."

Drouot's head whips over, face incredulously pissed, but he's already got a finger to his ear.

"Change of plans. Stand by."

Good. Where are they, anyway…he'd managed to dodge Batman, after, and he thinks he remembers trying to go...home? Maybe home. Things are fuzzy. Really, the last thing he remembers hearing is that damn clown screaming, MISS ME MISS ME DID YA MISS ME TODDERS?

Then things had gone dark. If he'd passed out or just blocked everything out is unclear.

"Sir?" Drouot sounds worried. "Sir, what happened?"

"Batman happened," he seethes, face hot with shame under the helmet. "Cloudburst's gone."

They're on a roof. Well, actually they're inside a maintenance stairwell on a roof, but Jason's not sure if he got himself there or if Drouot dragged him there. He doesn't want to ask. This is bad enough as it is.

"Yeah, we were on the line with you when it went up." He doesn't remember...he does remember, a little. Someone had been yelling at him to retreat. "You, uh, you okay, boss?"

For a minute-a crazy, idiotic minute-he wants to tell the truth, say, no, everything hurts, I wanna go home. But he can't, and more importantly, he refuses. He's fine, he's handled worse, he just. He needs a minute to get his breath back. That's all.

"I will be." He levers himself into a sitting position and just breathes, lungs burning with remnants of Crane's concoction. "Report."

Drouot looks a little more inclined to murder him, but he rocks back on his heels and recites, "Scarecrow has temporarily taken command, but mostly that just means he's giving us all free lectures on 'the physiology of fear' and threatening Batman over the billboards." Jackass. "We have attempted-mostly successfully-to regroup; two new watchtowers have been assembled, but no checkpoints until we determine the gas situation. Drones have been redeployed. Minimal casualties-a handful of stubborn ones refused to get to higher ground, last I heard the survivors were en route to Medical-though there's maybe...thirty people...unaccounted for." Great. "There are rumors that Poison Ivy died attempting to clear the toxin, but those are unsubstantiated. There's been no sign of Batman, but Commissioner Gordon was taken hostage-unharmed, as specified-maybe twenty minutes ago and transported back to base." Something screeches overhead. "I don't know what that is and I don't care."

So. Could be worse. He's not sure what to think about Ivy; she never...she wasn't like the others, but she did try to feed him to a plant once, so. He's pretty sure it was a bluff.

Later. He'll process that later.

His vision's coming back, a little. Very little. He wouldn't jump a roof right now or anything.

"What are you doing here?"

Drouot points to what...might be?...a helicarrier hovering nearby. Ah. That's the source of the red light, then.

"Drone picked you up. I said I'd investigate while we wait for the medical chopper."

There's a reason for that, Jason knows; Drouot's one of the few privy to what happens if he's startled awake. Jones is the other, and since he's not here...sure enough, further inspection turns up a broom sitting suspiciously close by.

"Want to get up there, or stay here?" He should get up there, tell Scarecrow to get back under some kid's bunk bed and try to get this back under control. And he will. Just. In a minute, when he's not going to puke if he stands up. "Medic's only a couple minutes out."

"Jones'll be. Upset. F'I move."

"He will."

God, he's hurting. Feels like he's gone a round with Bane and lost. Hell, his damn skin hurts, the air around it stabbing into his pores (into the brand) like knives. He's not sorry about the ultimate fate of the Cloudburst; he said that was crazy. Agreed to it, which says something about him, but he didn't like it. Had fought with Scarecrow over pretty much all of it; the loose end that was Stagg, the fact that it wouldn't kill Batman anyway, so why bother…

He blanks out a little, gets distracted by his own breathing, only to be jerked back to reality by Jones suddenly being in his bubble and snapping, "The hell was that?"

"Hmm?"

"The hell was that bullshit-I swear to God, one of these days-"

"M'okay." He can't-he can't-go through the usual Toxin Exam. Not here and certainly not now. "M'okay. Just a little dizzy, it's wearin' off."

"Oh-ho, you think it is. I'll be the judge of that." He shrugs his backpack off. "Glove off."

Oh. This is the scaled-down version. He swallows a wave of warmth but tugs his glove off, hands only shaking a little.

"O-kay...stay still for me, sir…"

What else is he supposed to do?

The car is the problem. It was a new model, literally cropped up over the last month or so, but with Gotham being so quiet, nobody had seen the 'transforming tank' thing coming. If he wants Bruce gone, the car has to go first. But nothing has...touched...it…

He has one last toy. This really is the contingency to end contingencies; last year, they had...acquired...a tunnel borer, when they were setting up base in Killinger's. He'd had Clyde do some fixes, make it go a little faster. That could take out that damn car, could grind it to rubble.

He just has to get to it before Bruce does.

He struggles to his feet, much to Jones' irritation, and pulls his glove back on.

"Hey-!"

"Told ya. M'fine." Neither of them look convinced, which is hurtful. "We're heading back to base."

"Base-base?"

"Base-base." Standing is hard. "We'll get him this time."

THE END