Bruce Wayne/Batman, Dick Grayson/Nightwing, Selina Kyle, Barbara Gordon, the Scarecrow, and all other important characters belong to DC Comics/Time Warner.
I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.

Rated PG : mild language; violence, some mature concepts.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Chiroptophobia

Echo

- - -

A full moon floated in the night sky, only a thin pane of glass between him and it. Batman watched it, wondering if he had really seen something dark, with wings, move across its silver surface. Not surprising if he had, it must have been a bird, although it hadn't looked like one.

"Batman? Did you hear me?"

He turned away from the window of Commissioner Gordon's office and glanced at the desk. "Of course I did. The Scarecrow has gotten two more people with his latest fear gas, not as part of a robbery but apparently as deliberate, personal attacks. You're wondering why he'd have a grudge against a corporate vice-president and a district attorney."

Gordon watched him thoughtfully for a moment before answering. "Avery Billingsley is a rich man. Marian Davis is an influential DA and also has family money. I thought they might have been failed kidnappings, but in both cases the Scarecrow went to considerable trouble to get at them, finding out their schedules and catching both of them alone. Then he just sprayed them with fear gas and left."

"How are they?" Batman asked, turning back to the window and seeing Gordon's reflected image shrug.

"They both had intense, obviously terrifying hallucinations which lasted several minutes. Both were hospitalized and released."

"Any aftereffects?"

"None that I know of." Gordon waited a beat before adding, "But - remember the guard who was gassed the same night you were?"

"Yes."

"He hasn't gone back to work. The detectives had to interview him at home."

"Not unusual, after a traumatic experience. But interesting." Batman turned his face to his old friend again and frowned.

"I don't want to state the obvious, but you were hit by the same drug. How have you been feeling?"

"Not unable to go to work, as you can see."

"I suppose not. Well, we'll keep an eye on Billingsley and Davis and keep assuring the public that we're close to an arrest, but it looks like the next move is up to the Scarecrow."

"Yeah, I caught your latest announcement," Batman said with a faint smile. "Very inspiring."

"Hm. His Honor wants to make an appearance tomorrow with me at a press conference. Impress the voters with how much he cares about their safety. Must be why he cut our budget this year."

"Why, Jim, you sound almost cynical."

"I don't sound cynical, I am cynical, when it comes to politicians, even if this one did happen to appoint me."

"I'd call it realism."

"Speaking of realism..." Gordon's voice hesitated before continuing. "I assume you know Selina Kyle was released a few days ago."

"I know. Why?"

"Do you believe she's really reformed?"

Batman looked up to find Gordon watching him again. "That's something only she can answer," he said after a pause. "I hope so. I've tried to help, although that didn't work out very well... But in the end it's really up to her."

"Even if her intentions are good, she may miss the excitement. The thrill. The attention. It's inevitable that she'll be tempted."

Batman glanced at him sharply. "What are you trying to say? Doesn't she deserve the benefit of the doubt, at least?"

"I'm saying her former underworld friends and acquaintances will know she's out, too. It might not hurt to discourage them from contacting her. And find out what she's been doing while you're at it."

The idea of spying on Selina was vaguely disturbing, but he couldn't find any logical reason to disagree. "I suppose it couldn't hurt," he muttered, and turned to the window.

With a quick gesture, he flung it open. A gust of wind fluttered his cape, and he heard a grumble from Gordon as papers blew off the desk. Outside, he shivered, glancing up. It seemed so dark and so silent in the Gotham City night, thin light giving a chilly cast to the almost-empty street below despite the lingering warmth of autumn. Just for a moment he imagined he saw another strange shadow flit over the silvery disk of the full moon, a cloud of small, black bodies sending the echo of shrill cries through the air. Shaking his head, he looked again, and saw only a normal moon set in a normal night sky. Still, it was with an unfamiliar tremor of fear that he set off, leaving the light, warmth, and safety of Gordon's office behind.

- - -

"Is that the place?"

"I guess."

"Think she's really gone straight?"

"I dunno."

"I wonder why she's staying here? Not her usual kind of neighborhood."

"I dunno."

Batman leaned forward a little to see them, careful not to leave the cover of a shadow he was crouched in on a fire escape above the street leading past the hotel where Selina was staying. His eyes moved to the building for a moment. The two small-time crooks he was eavesdropping on were right, it was a small, modest, respectable residential hotel, not the sort of expensive, flashy place she usually went for when she had the money, or the kind of dive she resorted to when she didn't. That was a good sign, probably; here she'd be unlikely to run into her old criminal acquaintances - unless they came looking for her, like the two below.

"Wonder if she'll be glad to see us."

"I dunno."

"Is there anything you do know?"

"I dun-"

"Look! It's her."

Batman's eyes rose from the men he vaguely recognized as former members of one of the Catwoman's recent gangs, and found the slim figure of a woman approaching, walking towards the hotel. Selina. Several questions ran through his mind in quick succession. Had she arranged to meet them? Was she expecting them? Was her reform only an act? Or was she just innocently coming home, had they come after her for reasons of their own, would she be angry... or pleased...?

"Catwoman!" The more intelligent-sounding man called as she seemed about to pass them.

She looked up, obviously startled, and stopped. "Marty! Danny!"

They came a few steps closer. She stood still, her body tense. "Good to see you again," Marty continued. "How you doing?"

"Fine. You two shouldn't have come here."

"You could have gotten in touch. Come by to say hello."

Her head tilted, her voice was a low murmur. "You know I can't afford to be seen with you if I want to keep my parole status."

"Since when have the rules stopped the Catwoman?"

"I'm only Selina Kyle now."

He stepped still closer, facing her. "You? I don't believe it for a second. You're just lying low, aren't you? What's the scam this time?"

"What makes you think there's any scam?"

"We know you-"

No need to listen to any more of this. Batman slipped off the edge of the fire escape, seeing all three jump and turn to stare at him as he landed on the sidewalk with a soft thump. The two men backed off a few steps as he straightened and came closer. Selina stayed where she was, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Ms. Kyle is under my protection," he said softly. "Leave her alone."

"We weren't doing nothin'!" Danny stammered.

"Then go and do it somewhere else."

"We were just talking," Marty said. To Batman's surprise, he sounded defiant.

"Find someone else to talk to." Batman took another step.

"Can't she say hello to a couple of old friends?" He moved back another step and didn't sound quite so confident now.

"Not friends like you. Now, get out of here."

"We got a right to be here--"

"I said get out." Batman dipped a hand into his belt, pulling out the familiar form of a batarang, and raised it, more as a threat than an actual attack. The two men flinched. The light of a street lamp glinted from the dark metallic surface of the batarang, attracting his eyes to it. He saw its outline, saw it seem to move in his fingers, to become a small black creature, wings stretched out, struggling in his grasp...

With an incoherent cry he dropped it, shrinking back as a wave of intense, unreasoning, irresistible terror and revulsion swept through him, leaving only the almost overwhelming impulse to get away from the object that fell to the pavement with a faint clink. He staggered back as it only lay there, inert, and the fear receded as quickly as it had come, leaving him shocked and gasping for breath.

"What's wrong with you?" It was Selina's voice, pulling him back to his surroundings and the three people staring at him.

"A bat - it was a bat..." He realized abruptly that he was shaking in fear of one of his own batarangs, and tried to get himself under some kind of control. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Selina turned on her two former gang members. "I can handle the Batman," she hissed. "Do what he said. Get out!" Without another word, they fled. She watched them go before turning to face him again, studying him with just a hint of curiosity as he again calmed himself with an effort. "What happened?" she asked after a few moments.

"Nothing. The batarang slipped out of my hand, that's all."

"Uh-huh." Her tone was skeptical, but to his relief she dropped it. "You've been watching me, haven't you? Hanging around here. Have you been following me too?"

"I'm concerned."

"Don't be." She crossed her arms. "You should know by now I can take care of myself."

"I hope so."

"Trust me." She frowned. "And stop lurking around like this. It's annoying. People might think you expect me to go back to my life of crime."

"Selina..." He searched for the right words, and had to settle for the simple question. "Is Catwoman really gone?"

"I've said so, haven't I?"

"Good. I hope you keep it that way. It's nothing but a dead end for you."

"Why, you sound almost as if you care."

"I do care." Her eyes widened slightly, and then glinted green as he went on. "If you go back to the wrong side of the law, we'll be enemies again. I don't want that to happen. But if it does, I'll be ready."

"How sweet." Her voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"Good night, Selina."

As he began to turn away, she bent quickly to the sidewalk, and came up with his batarang in her hand. "Here," she said, holding it out. "You forgot this."

"I..." He hesitated, repelled by the thought of touching it, even the sight of that bat-like shape making his stomach clench in mingled fear and disgust. "I don't want it."

"You don't want it?"

"Keep it. As - as a reminder." Before she could say anything more, he moved away and leaped for the fire escape, quickly climbing to the roof where he spared only a second for a glance back at her, still standing there with her eyes turned up to him.

- - -

Dick flipped on the television and flopped back on the slightly lumpy bed in his motel room, closing his eyes, wondering whether it was worth it to go out as Nightwing or just stay in. It was late - but Blüdhaven had an active night life. Besides, there was nothing to do here, just sit around in this dingy place. He wasn't sleepy, not yet, and probably wouldn't be until dawn.

Man, I'm turning nocturnal, just like Bruce... He smiled a little at the thought. If he got a job here, he might have to change his habits... could get a night job, but that would interfere with Nightwing... no, the best thing was a day job, part time if he could live on the salary, maybe something with flexible hours... It hadn't been so much of a problem when he worked at Wayne Enterprises... Wouldn't be a problem at all if he had Bruce's kind of money...

And that reminded him that he had a decision to make. The week he had paid for in this motel was almost up. In another day or two he'd have to make up his mind whether to stay, which meant looking for work and a more permanent place to live, or - if it would be better to just move on.

Opening his eyes, he stared up at the cracked ceiling, again wondering why he had come here in the first place. It wasn't like there was anything special about this city, except its unusually high crime rate. There was nothing to hold him here, nothing to stay for. Being so close to Gotham was starting to make him uncomfortable. He half-expected to find Batman, or Bruce, waiting for him every time he walked in the door, and had no idea if he'd be happy about that or angry.

"There is still no sign of the Scarecrow, who has seemingly disappeared after his attacks on two prominent Gotham City citizens."

Dick rolled onto an elbow, looking up at the television as the words caught his attention.

"Tomorrow evening Mayor Drexel and Gotham City Police Commissioner James Gordon are expected to announce the formation of a special task force to find the Scarecrow, whose real identity is Professor Jonathan Crane, formerly of Gotham State University."

The picture of a very thin, rather strange-looking man with a bony, hawk-like face appeared, squinting at the camera through thick round glasses. While Dick had never come up against the Scarecrow himself, he had studied his history as part of his training. Jonathan Crane had been a brilliant college professor, researching the biology of fear. He had also been something of a social outcast, because of both his appearance and his rough manners. Maybe that was why he had turned to crime after he had discovered a drug that could allow him to use fear as a weapon.

"Reliable sources within the Gotham Police Department have reported that Batman himself was also a victim several days ago, although this has not been confirmed. All the recent victims appear to have recovered fully, and the purpose of these fear attacks remains a mystery..."

Dick frowned as the news commentator moved on to another story. The Scarecrow, and his fear gas. Had he really gotten Batman? It seemed likely enough, and he knew there were Gotham cops who talked to the news media, so the report was probably accurate - as far as it went. He could go. Offer to help. And then what? Have Bruce try to make him quit again, or just tell him he wasn't needed? No, Batman could certainly handle this, and he'd certainly never admit it if he couldn't.

Why look for excuses to go back? Whatever future he had, sooner or later he'd have to face the fact that it was unlikely to be in Gotham City. Which meant there was no reason to hang around here. Enough was enough. At the end of the week he'd pack his things once more, choose a city somewhere at random, as long as it was far away, and go.

- - -

"If I may say so, sir, you look rather under the weather."

"Just tired." As he pulled his cowl off and handed it to Alfred to put away, Bruce admitted to himself that he felt exhausted, more tired than normal after a night out as the Batman. He hadn't done anything really unusual tonight. No, that wasn't true, and he might as well face it. That - whatever it had been - with the batarang had been unusual. He still wasn't sure what had happened. A trick of the light, a moment of imagination? But it had been more than just the illusion of a bat appearing in his hand, it had been that overwhelming sensation of fear, so strong there had been no way to fight it.

"Are you quite sure you're all right?"

Bruce realized he was just standing there, staring into the shadows of the Batcave. "I'm fine," he said, and started to unfasten his cape.

There was no avoiding the conclusion that it had something to do with the Scarecrow's fear drug. An after-effect, it must be. That hallucination had been so powerful it had left him with some kind of post-traumatic stress, enough to give him a flashback tonight. Just a momentary hallucination of a bat in his hand, and that had brought back the fear he had felt in the dream. But maybe it was good that this had happened; now that he knew what was going on, he could fight it. He was no stranger to fear; he knew how to control and overcome it, and how to use it to his advantage.

Automatically, he glanced in the mirror as Alfred turned to hang up the cape, seeing the black and deep gray of the Batman costume, the face of Bruce Wayne above it - and the stylized bat emblem on his chest. A bat again... He tried to look away, to ignore it, but it seemed to draw his eyes back in fascinated horror, as if it would come to life and start moving.

"Sir, is something wrong? What is it?"

He hesitated, telling himself how silly it was to be afraid of a shape, of a piece of cloth, of the symbol he had taken to frighten others, but it was no good. The shadow of that remembered terror sent ice water through his veins as he reached for his chest, and in a convulsive movement ripped the emblem off and threw it as far away as he could, then turned his back on Alfred's anxious, questioning face.

- - -

TBC...