Hey, guys. I'm back. I'm sorry I haven't been posting anything lately. College, as usual, strikes again, and it's hard to think of new ideas for the story when I'm stressed by assignments. Between that and the new games I got over Christmas, it's been hard to concentrate on finishing the story. But don't worry, it will be finished. I try to promise myself that I never leave my stories unfinished and I try to keep my promises.
And I nicknamed the kitten Crow. Wouldn't want him to be mistaken for someone else, would we?
And for those who don't know, espantajo is Spanish for boogeyman.
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It was late in the evening by the time they had made it back to the lair, and both Jonathan and Becky were exhausted.
"I thought you said that you knew a shortcut back here!" Becky huffed, her fluffy hair looking quite ruffled.
"I did," Crane said, bolting the door shut and leaning on it as something tried to pound its way through. "But I didn't expect Bane to follow us home hoping for handouts."
"You didn't steal any Venom recently, did you?" Becky asked, joining him in trying to hold down the door.
"No, did you?"
"No."
"Then why the heck is he here?" Becky cried, bracing herself as Bane's fist pounded the door.
"I have no idea!" Jonathan yelled over the pounding, trying to keep himself steady as another tremor-like punch hit the door.
"Scarecrow, I know you're in there, as well as the bruja!" Bane roared, his fists leaving several dents in the steel of the door.
"Bruja?" Becky mouthed, unfamiliar with the word.
"It means witch, as well as a few other choice words," Crane mouthed back, before turning back and sliding the eye slot of the door open. "What do you want, Bane?"
"You know what I want, espantajo. The Venom! Where is it?" Bane demanded, his glowing green eyes glaring at Crane beneath his luchador mask. Currently, he was crouched beside the door, as his seven-foot-tall frame was not quite what the builders had in mind when they set up the slot.
"How should I know? I haven't used it in my experiments in years."
"You lie. I give you one more chance. Tell me where it is or I- "
"Hold it right there, Bane!"
Crane quickly closed the latch as the sounds of a fight ensued from behind the door. He recognized the voice of Batman above him, and he knew if the man found out that they were inside, they would be trapped and brought back to Arkham before they could even think of an escape.
He put a finger to his lips, signaling Becky to follow him. She nodded and obeyed as they made their way into the basement.
Once inside, Crane pressed a button near the door, causing it to close and seal itself shut. He was thanking his lucky stars that this lair was once one of the locations of Falcone's chemical labs. Otherwise, the doors wouldn't be nearly as protective as they were.
"That was close," he said softly, letting out a sigh of relief. "If Bane had mentioned us…"
She nodded, already knowing what the outcome would be. "Yeah," she sighed nervously, waiting with bated breath for the pounding of fists on the doors. She almost jumped when a small meow sounded near her legs.
"Oh, it's only you, Crow," she said, picking up the kitten. "How'd you get down here?"
The kitten only meowed lovingly, purring as she scratched him behind the ears.
"So," Jonathan said, rolling to face her in his small rolling chair. "What was going on back there?"
"What do you mean?" Becky asked, the kitten in her hands climbing up onto her shoulders as she sat down, its greenish-yellow eyes staring at the Scarecrow with contempt that only a cat could master.
"I mean back there, in the alley. You were acting as if you saw a ghost."
She chuckled. "That wouldn't surprise me, really. Not with everything that goes on in Gotham." Her grin soon turned into a small frown. "But I'm not just seeing things, am I? I mean, you've got to see it, too, right?"
He looked at her quizzically.
"Look, I'm not crazy!" she cried, the kitten jumping off of her as she rose from her seat. "I saw what I saw."
"I never said you were," Crane said calmly, as he watched her quietly sit back down. "I'm sure there is a logical explanation for what is going on."
"Thank you," she said, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ears. "There has to be some reason why I keep seeing this thing."
"Wait, this isn't the first time you've seen this?" Crane questioned, one eyebrow raised.
Becky shook her head. "I've been seeing this thing everywhere, not just today. I keep dreaming about it as well."
"How long have you been seeing this, Becky?" he asked, a tinge of concern in his voice.
She rubbed her temples, feeling a bit of a headache coming on. "I don't know, about since the second night in Arkham. Look, will you stop with the questioning for a little bit? It's been a long day. And if Batman was still here, he would have probably dropped down on us by now."
Crane sighed. "Hrm, I guess you have a point. But first, I want to show you something." He hopped up from his perch on the seat. "Wait here," he said, ducking behind one of the tables as he pulled out what looked like gloves.
Becky wasn't impressed. "You want to show me gloves? Why do you want to show me gloves?" she asked, confused.
"Watch," he said, pressing a small button near the palm area. With a quiet emshink/em, four long needles slid out of the fingers, their tubes filled with enough fear gas to topple an elephant.
Becky's eyebrows rose in surprise. Then, when she had a closer look, she could only laugh and shake her head. "No way! You actually tricked out your Freddy Krueger glove. I thought you just bought it for show."
He grinned, quite pleased that he had impressed her. "Not just that. I happened to order a second one just for you, Becky. Here, try it on," he said, practically giddy as he presented her with the left glove.
She took it carefully, trying not to stick herself as she fit it onto her hand. Surprisingly, it fit perfectly. "I'm surprised, Jonathan. This is probably one your better gifts. Good job!" she said, smiling as she tested the glove's dexterity.
"It's also useful for making sure that the Bat doesn't try to get too close," he added, enjoying the smile she was giving him, the freckles on her face seemingly accenting her grin.
"Oh, so it's not just because you want to imagine me as your own personal Freddy," Becky said teasingly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
He laughed, his pointy nose nearly touching hers as he grinned cheekily back at her. "Oh, I think you could do much better than Freddy ever could."
"High compliment, coming from you," she flirted back, her lips about to touch his.
"Ah! There you are."
Becky and Jonathan both jumped as a video recording of the Riddler appeared on the console nearby, his bright green suit standing out among the white and greys of the laboratory.
"Edward!" Scarecrow snapped, instantly bolting from his seat on the couch to the old computer that he used to help him calculate results for his research.
"Oh, was I interrupting something between you two?" he said, a smirk trailing across his lips as he rested his head on his cane.
"Yes, now go away," he growled, trying to turn the monitor off, only to find that no matter what he did, the Riddler's grinning visage never faded. "How are you doing this?"
Edward laughed. "While you may be the Master of Fear, I am the Master of Electronics. So, try as you might, you won't be able to get me out of your systems. Not until I'm done, anyway."
"We'll see about that," he said, pulling the plug. He stood there in triumph, finally sighing in relief as the annoying man was finally silenced.
For a few seconds.
"You know; I don't appreciate being ignored. So, unless you want a nasty shock, I wouldn't recommend doing that again," he said from his position on Becky's flip-phone, his brown eyes glaring daggers at the two as they both snickered.
Jonathan rolled his eyes, taking the phone from Becky's hand. "Look, if you're that bored, go find Batman or something."
"Ah, and that is exactly why I called you," he said, his emerald-green cane twirling in between his fingers. "You see, my previous Hench girls, Query and Echo, are off the radar for the time being. Something about stealing a device from a top-secret government research facility that could shoot miniature nuclear bombs. So I don't have anyone to help me with my riddles."
"Aw, boo hoo. Little Riddler can't do anything on his own," Crane quipped sarcastically, grinning nastily at the annoying man. "Guess you're out of luck. Farewell."
"Wait! Wait!" Riddler pleaded, only relaxing when Jonathan lowered his hand from its throwing position. "Look, I'm not asking you to do it, Crane."
"Then why did you call?"
"Well, that little girlfriend of yours owes me a big favor. Heck, you probably wouldn't even be alive, if I hadn't lent her a helping hand," Riddler said, a smug grin plastered on his face.
Becky rolled her eyes, grabbing the phone from Jonathan's hand. "Fine. I'll do it," she growled. Anything to make him shut up.
Riddler clapped his hands excitedly. "Excellent! I'll have the riddles delivered to your lair in a few minutes. Ta Ta!"
She slammed the phone shut, releasing a frustrated sigh. Well, that was the rest of her night down the drain. "So, where do you think we have to place the Riddles?"
He shrugged, releasing a tiny huff. It was bad enough that the Riddler had no problem with barging in on his privacy, but he had to barge in just when he was enjoying his time with Becky. His eyes wandered back to her. "I'm curious. How exactly did the Riddler save your life?"
She rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe the sleep from them. "When you were out cold, Friitawa took my cane and sent her genetically mismatched minions to finish me off. If he wasn't there, I would have been torn to pieces. Plus, I wouldn't have found her hideout without his help. I think I at least owe him for that. But does he have to be so dang smug about it?"
He snorted. "It's the Riddler. What do you expect?"
She was about to reply, when a sharp knock on the door interrupted her.
"I'll get it," Jonathan whispered, sneaking out quietly from the room. Batman was probably long gone, but one could never be so sure, especially with such a close call. Slinking in the shadows, he tiptoed his way towards the door. He opened up the eye slot, shooting the emerald-dressed goon in front of him a glare. "What?"
The goon gulped, sweat dripping off of his dark forehead. "Uh-um…s-special delivery, s-sir," he stammered, his voice almost coming out in a whisper.
Scarecrow sighed. Was Nigma really that short-handed that he sends a rookie with his precious riddle trophies? The boy looked no older than a teenager. "Just set them at the door."
With shaking fingers, he released the box, sending it crashing down onto the concrete, slowly backing away from the glaring yellow eyes.
"Thanks," Crane answered, sliding the green, question-marked box inside. "And for your own sake, stay in school, kid." With that, he closed the slot, leaving the bemused teen to stare in confusion and relief at the dented steel door.
"That was nice of you," Becky commented, leaning against the wall, her foot propped up on the wall. It was rare for him to show even a little bit of kindness towards anybody, besides her and his three friends.
Crane just huffed, looking a little put off by that comment. "Oh, please. The guy was practically in high school. I don't even know why Nigma even hired him."
"Still…" she said, a small smile on her face, causing him to return it fondly. He still had a hard time believing that she had meant it when she said she loved him. That day still felt like a dream, even if it almost ended in nightmares.
They began digging through the piles of neon-green, question mark trophies, trying to find the map hidden inside the box.
"Ah-hah," Becky exclaimed, pulling out a small, crumpled piece of paper from the chaos of the box. "I found it."
"Good. So where's the location?" Jonathan asked, still digging through the box, trying to find the paper with the riddles on it.
She squinted, trying to make out the small text on the map. "I can't make it out yet. But I think it says- "she stopped, making a face as she finally pieced together the word. "You've got to be kidding me!" she seethed, the paper crumpling in her hand.
"What is it?"
"Just look!" she snapped, shoving the crumpled paper into his hands.
After just one look, he could understand why she was so upset.
In small print at the top, it's letters marked in typed print, were two tiny words:
Arkham Asylum.
