Nothing to say right now about myself.

Oh, but you guys are in for a treat this chapter. I'm not going to spoil it, although I will say that an old friend of Jonathan's is coming back. And perhaps we'll see what's been going on with Becky, too. I'm sure you guys are dying to find out.

Also, the title was inspired by the song "Tainted" by Celldweller. Check them out if you're interested in rock/electric music.

Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Scarebeast~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Becky ducked as a birdarang sailed over her head, the sharp edge slicing off a small piece of her hair as she ran to get away from the flashy teenager in a Robin costume. He was glaring at her, sprinting forwards in hot pursuit as she leaped over a gap in the buildings, rolling as she hit the hard concrete of the next building. If she wasn't currently busy running for her life, she would have found this kinda funny.

It had been one week since their return from Arkham, and the heist had started off reasonably well. They had set up the wireless remote controller for their fear balloon catapult, and would have successfully launched it at the elegant gala that had been situated across the street from their position, only to have the remote control wrenched from their hands by a batarang and Batman and his Robin sidekick plummeting from the sky to meet them.

They had decided to split up; Scarecrow leading Batman in one direction while Scream lured Robin in another, hoping to regroup after they had lost the flying menaces and head back to their hideout to recoup their loss.

"You know, if the circumstances were different, I would have found this flattering," Becky yelled at Robin, laughing as she leaped into the air, her cane catching on a telephone wire as she slid down towards a building across the street.

"While I appreciate the compliment, I don't think you're my type," Robin, otherwise known by the name of Tim Drake, shouted back as he glided towards her, the clip on his belt sliding across the same telephone wire, angling his body to slid down faster to catch up with the patchwork villainess.

"Heh, you aren't mine either, kid. I prefer to have dates that don't try to send me to the mental ward," she retorted, unhooking her cane as she dropped down to the roof, the ruffle of her dress swirling as she dashed towards the side, hopping onto another roof as she spotted Scarecrow on another one nearby. If she could just reach him and lose Robin, they could double-team Batman and escape together.

"Well, stop running and perhaps we can work out a deal," Robin called, spotting Batman on the same rooftop as Scarecrow. If they could just corral the two together, he and Batman could trap them in a corner and force them to surrender. He feigned a grab to the left, watching as she dodged his blow and banked right, towards Batman and Scarecrow.

Tim smiled. This was exactly what he wanted.

"No chance, bird boy. I already made a deal with the devil. Any more, and I'll just look like a sucker," she replied, nearing her partner's position as his ankle hit the rim of the building. "Scarecrow, now!"

In the split-second of realization that he was being led into a trap, Robin threw his birdarang.

At the same time, Crane threw the fear toxin pellet onto the ground, right before the birdarang hit him in the head, knocking him towards the ground ten stories below.

"Jonathan!" Becky screamed, her heart pounding as she pictured him falling to his death down below, his hands reaching for her helplessly as he fell. Her normally hazel eyes flashing into a dangerous poison-green, and without a second thought to her safety or instincts, she hurled herself down after him, just narrowly missing Robin's hand as he reached out to grab her.

Jonathan closed his eyes, waiting for the sudden snap that would be his body hitting the hard ground below, only to feel someone crash into him, their arms wrapping around his thin frame as they shielded him from the ground. Opening his eyes, he was astonished to find Becky underneath him, green eyes glowing like emerald fire as she held on tight, her body instinctively relaxed as she braced for impact.

They hit the ground with the force of a crashed piano, Becky taking the brunt of the impact as Crane landed on top of her, unharmed. With a groan, he immediately slid off her, looking with amazement and fear as he tried to calm his pounding heart, wincing as he felt the pain in his broken leg where it had smashed against the concrete and the mild concussion he had experienced from the birdarang.

10 stories.

He had fallen 10 stories…and all he had was a broken leg.

His mind was still trying to process that when he heard the most beautiful sound he had ever heard: Becky Albright coughing.

Ignoring his broken leg, he crawled towards her, his eyes as large as flying saucers with fear and relief as she opened her eyes, slowly leaning upwards as she started to pick herself up, shaking her head like she had a crick in her neck. "I'm okay," she muttered, sitting herself upright as she glanced at the still wide-eyed Scarecrow.

He didn't say anything for a few moments, before he put both hands on her shoulders and, in, one large jumble, screamed, "WhatinParallax'snamewereyouthinking?! Youdon'tjust leapafterthemanwhowasfallingfromatenstorybuildinglikeit'sadiveintothelake! Areyououtofyourgodblessedmind?! Icouldhavelostyouforever! Doyouknowwhatthatwoulddotome? TheScarebeastwouldhavebeenunleashedandnothingwouldbeleftstanding, allbecauseyouwereselflessandtriedtosaveamanwithamurderrapamilewideandseventeenlifesentencesinprisonwhodoesn'tdeservetoexperienceloveinthefirstplaceand…"

He stopped his panic-driven rant when he caught sight of her still yellow-green eyes, their luminance blinding in the dim light of the alleyway.

"Wh-What happened to you?" Jonathan gasped, breath caught in his throat as he stared into her eyes.

Becky shook her head, pulling herself up shakily to her knees. "I don't know," she muttered, tears starting to form in her eyes as she hugged him tightly to her. "I just…I didn't think! I just…I couldn't let you die! Not like that! Not like that!" she murmured, just holding him close as she hiccupped quietly from her crying. From her view behind his back, she could see her reflection in a broken window pane, her eyes glowing as green as bioluminescent algae, but she was too shaken up to care.

Tears filled Jonathan's eyes as well as he returned her bone-crushing hug, holding her tight as she wept into his jacket, rubbing circles across her back. "Shh, Shh. It's okay, Becky. I'm alive. I'm okay. You don't have to worry about losing me," he whispered soothingly into her ear, not even caring that he was now leaning on his broken leg. All that mattered was her right now.

In his heart, he thanked every deity that was out there that his Becky was still alive and unharmed.

"Let's just go home," he whispered.

Becky nodded silently into his chest, pulling away as she put an arm around his back as she helped him to his feet, slowly starting their journey home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Scarebeast~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin looked down at the two from his perch on the roof, watching as the two rogues stumbled away from the alleyway.

"Should we go after them, Bruce?" Tim asked, his yellow and black cape billowing in the breeze. Beside him, he could see his mentor and hero, Batman, shake his head.

"Let them go for now, Tim. I doubt they will be causing any more trouble in the next few days," he replied, his voice still a bit shaky from the fear gas he had inhaled when the fear bomb went off.

"What about Scream? She didn't seem hurt from that fall," Robin asked, still uncertain. It felt wrong for him to just let a criminal escape unless they were being tracked. It just allowed them the opportunity to lick their wounds and come back refreshed and stronger than ever.

"Scream won't retaliate if Scarecrow's out of commission. The only reason she even joins in on the heist is her loyalty to him, not out of any general malice on her part." Batman replied, already turning away from the two as he made his way to the opposite edge of the building. "Right now, we have other things to worry about."

Robin nodded reluctantly, casting one last glance at the two before following the caped crusader into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Scarebeast~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearly midnight by the time the two had gotten back to the hideout, with Crane still using Becky as a crutch to keep the weight off his broken limb. The two didn't speak one word to each other throughout the journey back.

By that time, Becky's eyes had faded back to hazel, but the damage was done. She knew there was something majorly wrong with her now. But just what was the problem was something she couldn't answer. Before, she could just brush it off as something in the environment, or her stress and exhaustion, or even her adrenaline playing tricks with her.

A part of her was glad that she could finally confirm for certain that what she was seeing and feeling wasn't just her mind playing tricks on her. But the other was dreading how this would affect her life and her relationship with Jonathan.

Jonathan, meanwhile, felt a knot of worry balling up in his stomach. Her eyes changing color was the least of his worries right now. What he was worried about was her supposedly invulnerability. He had a similar invulnerability when he became the Scarebeast, as he only had a small scar to show from his near-death at the hands of a wood-saw, a plan gone horribly awry when Batman had tracked him to his former lair near an abandoned logging plant. The minute his back hit that rusty saw, his fear of dying, the pain of the sharp instrument, and his anger at Batman for foiling his plan allowed him to transform, preventing his death.

Yet he saw no such defensive reaction. By all rights, they should've been broken and shattered across the concrete like so many broken twigs, yet here they were, with nothing worse than a broken leg in Jonathan's case and a slight crick in the neck for Becky.

With a kick, Becky slammed the door shut, not even bothering to lock it as she pulled up a chair from the table as she carefully maneuvered him into place.

He took a seat, as Becky sat across from him on the opposite side, each staring at the other, hoping one of them would have the courage to speak up.

This continued for five minutes, just sitting there, eyeing each other, before Becky finally spoke up, "I guess the truth's out in the open now."

Crane raised an eyebrow, before sliding off his mask, staring at it quietly. "That's one way of putting it," he replied, his voice soft as he looked up at her as she looked off to the side, avoiding his eyes. "How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?"

Becky gulped, looking down at her clasped hands. "Since my second day at Arkham," she murmured, feeling like she was back in the psychiatrist's office at Arkham all over again, but instead of being interrogated by a stranger, she was being interrogated by Jonathan, her best friend, partner, and lover. In a way, it was much worse than anything those stuffy guards or psychiatrists at Arkham could inflict.

Crane nodded, pulling out a small piece of paper as he began scribbling the details onto the sheet. "And my guess this isn't just to do with your imaginary friend?"

She shook her head, wringing her hands nervously. "No," she replied, letting out a deep breath as she tried to compose herself. She couldn't afford to break down in front of him again. "Certain…stimuli such as sounds and smells seem more sensitive now. Not to mention…" she trailed off.

"What?" Crane asked, before noticing her holding back tears. "Becky, what happened?"

She turned away, her eyes brimming with tears as she struggled to hide her face. "I…I don't want to talk about it."

"Becky," Crane whispered, getting up from his chair and limping towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he turned her to face him. "I know this is painful. Believe me, I know. But I can't help identify what is happening to you if I don't know the full story."

She let out a tired huff, looking up at him briefly before wiping her eyes with the edge of her dress, taking off her mask as well and setting it down on the table, fiddling with a loose thread on the face. "Do you remember about a week ago when we had to hide those stupid trophies in Arkham?"

Jonathan nodded.

"Well…" Becky started, before recounting the events of that night, from her stint in the medical facility to her escape from the secret laboratory in the botanical garden. She watched as Crane's reactions went from concerned to worried to downright shocked as she described what happened to her in the medical facility, to barely concealed anger as she described her ambush by Zsasz, and then finally into a look of guilt as she described what happened to her in the gardens.

Jonathan, who had listened from his perch on the seat scooted up beside hers, became silent as she finished her tale, looking down at the table, this time the one being unable to meet her eyes.

"Jon, is something wrong? Is it something I said?" she asked, as she noticed him leaving his seat.

Crane paused, before shaking his head. "I've…had my suspicions before, but now…" he trailed off, seemingly lost in thought before he tilted his head up to look at her.

"Jonathan…"

"I have a theory on why you've been experiencing these symptoms. But, if I'm to know for sure, I need a blood and DNA sample from you. And if my theory is correct…" he paused, before his eyes lowered and he frowned worriedly, before shaking his head again. "Then we have a lot more problems than Batman to worry about."

Becky gulped as Crane hobbled quickly down into the basement lab, coming back a few minutes later with a Q-Tip and a syringe.

Taking the Q-Tip from his hand, she swabbed hard around the inside of her cheek, handing it back to Crane as he carefully wrapped a tourniquet around her arm, taking a sample of her blood to test.

Without a word, Crane started to hobble down the steps, but was stopped by Becky. "Here," she said, handing him her cane. "You need it more than I do right now."

Looking back at her, he let out a small chuckle and a smile, before proceeding carefully down into his lab, Becky following close behind.

They didn't have to walk far before Crane stopped at large, rectangular white box. He opened the lid, revealing two circular cavities in the middle, one holding a black, almost disc-shaped object and the other holding a metal ring with 36 holes evenly distributed across its surface, designed to hold tiny capsules of blood and DNA for analysis.

"This should only take an hour or two at most," he explained, separating the blood and DNA into the two separate rings, before pressing a button, causing the lids to close over the samples and the machine to whir, the little screen on the underside of the lid glowing blue and displaying a rapidly spinning sphere in multicolored hues with the words PROCESSING… underneath.

"Doesn't this usually take days to get back a result?" she asked, watching the little sphere swirl around.

"Usually," he replied, throwing away the used syringe into the trashcan next to the desk. "But that typically involves the time to transport, processing the samples, deciphering the results, and then relaying it to whoever procured the blood sample. Since we're doing this here, we can cut the time needed by half and cut out the middleman while doing so. Which reminds me, does Chinese takeout sound good to you?"

She nodded, taking out her phone from her purse and flipping it open. "It sounds good to me. I'll see if I can call them up."

Crane was about to reply when the emergency phone he kept in his lab rang. "Now, who could that be?" he wondered curiously, picking up the phone. Due to his lifestyle as a Rogue and for other, more practical reasons (i.e. privacy), his phone number was unlisted in the registry, keeping him off the grid. The only people that could find him were ones he had given the phone number to; or telemarketers, the obnoxious pests. "Hello?"

A familiar voice sounded over the phone. "March Hare? Is that you?"

Jonathan's eyes widened when he heard that familiar nickname. "Tetch? Is that you?"

"Yes! Oh, yes. Thank god you're alive, Jonathan! I thought for certain you were dead!"

"Is that Jervis?" Becky asked, trotting over to him.

Crane nodded. "No, we're not dead, Tetch. Although I wasn't certain for a while," Jonathan replied, adding the last part barely above a murmur. He'd rather not have to bring up that up to Jervis or Becky right now. The less anyone knew how close he was to death, the better he would be.

"Oh, frabjolous day! I thought…" Jervis paused, starting to sniffle quietly before breaking down into tears. "I thought for certain I sent both of you to your deaths. I-I just...I couldn't do anything. They…She…had Alice. I just…c-couldn't lose her. Do you know what it's like, to love someone so completely that the very thought of them dead drives a nail straight into your heart?"

At the mention of Jervis' soulmate, Crane sighed, thinking about his fall just a few hours before, and how scared he felt when Becky had dived after him. He had never felt more scared in those last few moments before the crash in his life. "Believe me, Tetch, I understand completely."

Jervis perked up at that, a small smile starting to spread on his face despite the tears. "Y-You do? Does that mean…"

Jonathan hesitated for a moment, before letting out a sigh. His friend probably suspected his crush on Becky the moment he started obsessing over her in that little cell in Arkham six months ago. "Yeah."

A gasp escaped the Hatter's lips, before he full-on grinned, tears still streaming down his face; the happy kind, this time. "I'm so proud of you, Marchy! I'd never thought I'd see the day you and she got together. Now I'm crying for a whole different reason."

Crane just let out a exasperated sigh, before mouthing to Becky, "Do you see what I have to deal with?"

She put a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing, before pointing to her phone and miming calling, before heading upstairs, already dialing the Chinese restaurant to order their takeout, leaving the two old friends to catch up.

She was just about to press Call on her phone as she began to pass the kitchen when she froze, spotting her doppelganger staring at her from the kitchen table, its grin still ever-present on its face. Startled, she dropped her phone, taking a few steps back as it lifted itself off the chair and strode towards her before reaching out and pulling Becky towards it, its grip tight no matter how much the woman struggled to break free.

With unnerving slowness, the masked face leaned closer to her, stopping just short of her ear, as Becky watched with paralyzed dread as its mouth started to move, "Trust no one," it whispered, its voice cutting and cold, like scissors dipped in liquid nitrogen. The voice spoke like nothing she had ever heard before, sounding echoey and distorted and not altogether there, like she was picking up on a conversation half-way finished and from far away.

Becky didn't know what to make of that. Trust no one? What did that mean? And why was it suddenly talking now? Before she could make anything of that phrase, the figure vanished as stealthily as it had come, gone in a blink of her eyes as she was left standing there, confused, frightened, and annoyed by the aforementioned emotion. It's not real, Becky. You're tired. You're stressed. You're seeing things that are not there. You just need to relax and it will go away, she thought, trying to reassure herself as she slid down to the floor, her right hand brushing a familiar metal object.

Looking down, she picked up her phone, shaking her head as she pressed Call. This day was just getting better and better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Scarebeast~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For those who don't speak scared Scarecrow-ese, here's what he was saying:

"What in Parallax's name were you thinking?! You don't just leap after the man who was falling from a ten story building like it's a dive into the lake! Are you out of your god-blessed mind?! The Scarebeast would be unleashed and nothing would be left standing all because you were selfless and tried to save a man with a murder rap a mile wide and seventeen life-sentences in prison who doesn't deserve to experience love in the first place and...

Aw, don't say that, Jonathan. You deserve just as much lurve as the rest of them.

Enjoy, and please don't forget to leave a review. Every single one of them makes my day.