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

Confession

- - -

"So let me get this straight. You think changing your costume and calling yourself Starman is going to solve your problem?" Dick's voice was harsh and unbelieving.

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do. Tell me what you dreamed about."

Bruce shot him a glare. "How is that supposed to help?"

"Gordon thinks it helped him to tell me and Barbara about his dream."

"Even if it did - I'm not Gordon."

"Look..." Dick sighed. "Fine, you have a new name and new costume. Do you really think it's going to make a difference? How long will it take the Scarecrow to figure that one out? Five minutes, if you're lucky?"

Bruce turned away. "I know he'll figure it out. But it doesn't have to work for long if it gets me enough time to get that antidote."

"This is crazy!"

Bruce turned back to him. "Crazy or not, it's my only choice."

- - -

"Dad, I'm back," Barbara called, sighing as she took off her jacket and hung it up.

Her talk with Dick had been reassuring - in a way - and yet depressing - and happy - and sad... Confusing might be the best word. With another sigh, she turned over the idea that she wasn't as completely over him as she had thought. Why else would it have hurt so much when he hadn't been willing to tell her why he had left? Personal reasons. Once she had had the right to hear whatever was personal to him. No more.

"Dad?" she called again, other problems fading into the background as she listened to only echoes answer. The house was empty; she could feel it. He was gone. "Damn, damn, damn," she muttered as she hurried to her room, and again as she saw that a phone call had been recorded while she was gone. Her fingers fumbled in their haste, but finally she got the tape rewound and listened to the sound of a call being answered in her father's familiar voice.

"Hello?"

"Jim, it's Marion."

"You got an email too, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. Jim, what-"

"Don't do anything. Just stay there. I'll meet him and take care of this."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to make sure the Scarecrow doesn't do any more damage."

"But..."

"Don't worry." There was a pause. "And don't tell anyone. Just leave it to me."

"No!" Barbara cried as the click of disconnection sounded in her earpiece. He had gone to meet the Scarecrow on his own; it was the only explanation. But how long ago? Where was he? And what was he planning to do?

Any email her father had gotten at home would be on the computer in his study. She jumped to her feet and headed in that direction at a run.

- - -

"Bruce..." Dick gestured at him, frustration clear in his face. "This Starman costume isn't going to help. Yeah, maybe it'll get you through one night. Maybe. But what about after that? And it's not just the Scarecrow; by now half the crooks in Gotham know about this, and the other half will soon."

"Don't you think I know that?" Bruce turned on him, his own anger and frustration at the boiling point. "What else am I supposed to do? Just give up?"

"No. Look, Barbara came to see me tonight. She said Gordon's been contacted by the Scarecrow again, and something's going to happen soon. I can go after him myself."

"This is my fight." Bruce felt his fingers curling. "I'm going."

"You're in no condition."

"Don't try to stop me. And don't try to cut me out. If Barbara finds out anything, I want you to tell me."

"Why? So you can fall off another roof? So you can have another panic attack over a bunch of paper cutouts?" Dick crossed his arms and said brutally, "Stay home. The way you are now, you're just a liability."

Bruce stiffened. "How dare you say that!" he growled. "I taught you. I made you what you are!"

"And then you tried to destroy all that by forcing me to give up being Nightwing."

"I was trying to protect you! And then you left without a word. How did you think that made me feel?"

"Yeah, I left, because you kicked me out! After you smacked me around a little first!"

"You deserved it, for what you said about my parents!" A wave of cold fury washed over Bruce. He took a step closer to his partner, raising a fist.

"Is that what you're going to do now? Hit me again? You solve all your problems that way, Bruce?"

"No, I..." Shaken at how close to being right Dick was, Bruce lowered his arm and stepped back. "Dammit... If that's the way you feel, why the hell did you come back?" he muttered.

"Because you taught me. Because you made me what I am, at least partly." Dick's voice was quiet now. "Because I care about you, Bruce. Because I guess you're the closest thing I have to a family. And I don't want anything to happen to you."

Blinking, Bruce turned away. "I'm sorry," he managed after a few moments.

"So am I. I thought I'd be able to help, but maybe I've made things worse."

"No, you haven't." Bruce braced himself with a deep breath. "You said you wanted to know what I dreamed about."

- - -

Breathless, Barbara threw herself into a chair in front of her father's computer. It was still on, with no programs open. A couple of clicks later, she was scanning the list of his emails, making a low sound of frustration as she saw no sign of it. He must have deleted it.

Only one thing to do. She reached for the phone.

- - -

"It started with darkness... I was in a dark place. Big. No sound. Just a wall in the distance." Bruce sighed. It sounded so harmless. How could he communicate what it had felt like?

"A wall. Was that it? What happened?" Dick prompted.

"I started to walk. Trying to find out where I was." Bruce paused again, shivering slightly as the bleak, fearful mood of the dream seemed to descend on him again. "I could hear voices in the distance. Thought I heard my name, but I'm not sure. Couldn't make out what they were saying."

"Whose voices?"

"They were..." He found it hard to say. "They were a man and a woman. And a child."

"Okay. Go on."

"Then I saw them, in the distance. Just shadows, really. They were walking into an opening in the wall. The child..." He stopped, and forced himself to go on. "The child ran in, and the man and woman followed."

"And?"

"I ran after them. Couldn't see them. Then... then I saw her... Kathy."

"Kathy?"

"She was there, all white, staring at me. She said something... I don't remember. Then she sort of drifted away, after the other three." The words were coming quickly now, Bruce had almost forgotten about Dick as the memory took over. "I started to go after her. And then you were there, trying to stop me."

"I was there?"

"Yes. You were telling me we had to get away. That I couldn't help them. I pushed you out of the way, and went in. It was - it was an alley. Not much light. A few sounds, voices again, a scream. And then a gunshot."

Dick nodded silently.

Bruce could hear his voice tremble, but was helpless to control it. "I couldn't see much. Just bodies lying on the ground. And that child, that boy, standing there. He looked up... He was..."

"He was what?" Dick's voice was quiet.

"He was me." It was obvious, Bruce knew that, yet that moment in the dream had been - shocking. Terrifying, in the way only nightmares can be. "Then you were trying to get me away again. And there was a sound. Like a million wings, coming fast. You said it was too late, and it was. They came - the bats - thousands of them, a cloud of them, swarming around us. They - they tore you apart, and then they started on me..." He stopped, breathing as hard as if he had been running.

"And then?"

"Nothing. Then I woke up."

- - -

"Ah. You look lovely in that outfit, my dear."

"Thank you." Catwoman smiled at Jonathan Crane as he pulled his rough cloth hood over his head. "Where are we going?"

"Not far."

"What are you planning?" She tilted her head and gave him a half-teasing, half-flirtatious glance. "Batman's a clever opponent. Do you think you can outwit him?"

"My plan is simple, yet - yes, I think it's a match for the great Batman." Crane pulled on his gloves as he spoke. "I've arranged a meeting with Commissioner Gordon and our charming DA, Marion Davis, tonight, to discuss their future cooperation with me."

She blinked. "Gordon agreed to that?"

"No, I imagine he's much too noble to agree." The Scarecrow chuckled hollowly. "He'll have called in Batman. Even if by some chance he hasn't, I'm sure our disgustingly honest DA will have. Either way, it's Batman I'm expecting tonight."

"I see," she said. "So you've set a trap."

"Yes. And since you've so graciously offered to assist, you may have the honor of snapping it shut."

- - -

"I've told you what I dreamed. What else do you want me to say?" Bruce demanded.

"Well - what did it mean?" Dick asked.

"What did it mean?" Bruce ran a hand through his hair. "It's obvious, isn't it? That couple with the kid were my parents. It was the night they died. A nightmare about it."

"And what was Kathy doing there? What was I doing there?"

"How should I know?"

"It's your dream."

"Dreams don't have to make sense." Bruce sighed. "I guess Kathy was there because she died too. Because I lost my parents and I lost her, too."

"Okay. Then why dream about me? I'm pretty sure I'm still alive."

Bruce glanced at him. "At the time - I didn't know that for sure. I worried about you while you were gone. You could have died and I might never have known."

"Well..." Dick looked uncomfortable but kept going. "Do you think that's why? Is there any other reason you'd pick your parents, Kathy, and me to dream about?"

"No - I don't know. I tried to save you... tried to find them. But it was too late..." The image of that dark alleyway returned, filled with death, a boy's face mirroring his.

"Did you feel afraid then? Or angry? Or... what?"

"All of that, I guess. And... guilty." He turned his face away, almost surprised that he had said it.

And of course, Dick pounced on it. "Guilty? Why?"

"If it wasn't for me, Kathy would never have become Batwoman. She'd be alive today."

There was a hesitant touch on his shoulder, and Bruce looked around to see Dick next to him, his face concerned. "Look, I know how you feel. I felt pretty guilty myself about Kathy. Still do. But she made her own decisions. She knew the risks, and chose to take them, just like you do. It wasn't your fault."

"I know all that. I just don't believe it."

"And me? Why did you feel guilty about me?"

Bruce snorted faintly. "That should be obvious. I tried to blame you for Kathy's death. Tried to force you to give up being Nightwing. Hit you when you wouldn't do what I wanted. I drove you away, and for all I knew you could have gotten hurt or killed, somewhere where I couldn't help you."

"Well..." Dick smiled crookedly. "I won't say you're wrong, but I made my own choices too. Like you said before, you were trying to protect me, even if it was in a pretty half-assed way."

"That's not a bad description." Bruce tried to smile back, hoping Dick wouldn't ask the inevitable next question.

But he did. "And... what about your parents? Why feel guilty about them?"

"What makes you think I feel guilty?"

"It's all over your face, Bruce. What is it?"

- - -

"Ms. Davies, where's my father? I know you got the same email he did. Where is he meeting the Scarecrow?"

There was a pause, and then, in place of the denial Barbara has expected, only a quiet, "How do you know about that?"

"Doesn't matter. Please, you've got to tell me where they're meeting."

"What are you going to do?"

"Make sure he doesn't get himself killed! Look, I can search his hard drive for that email and recover it, but that would take time. Too much time. Tell me!"

"Damn it all to hell! I knew this was a bad idea - how I let him talk me into this..." She seemed to collect herself. "All right. I'll tell you."

- - -

"It was my fault my parents died."

Dick stared, his brows contracting. "What are you talking about? You were a little kid."

"I was the one who wanted to take a shortcut through that alley." Bruce grimaced. "I thought it looked neat. All dark and scary. And of course when my parents said 'no', that just made it even more attractive. I was a stubborn, spoiled little... I ran on ahead, and they had no choice but to follow me. And he was waiting. I led them right to him."

Dick watched him, obviously choosing his next words with care. "Bruce, listen to me. A mugger killed your parents. Not you. You were a child, and you were just doing what a child does."

"And if I hadn't done it, they would still be alive."

"Maybe they would be. Maybe not. Things happen, Bruce. We're not perfect. Don't you think I still feel guilty when I remember seeing a strange man hanging around my parents' circus equipment? If I had said something, maybe they'd be alive today." Dick stepped closer, his voice insistent, as Bruce turned his face away. "Do you remember what you said to me when I told you about that? You said it wasn't my fault. Well, take your own advice. Stop blaming yourself."

"Don't you think I've told myself that, hundreds of times? But the fact remains that if I hadn't run into that alley, my parents wouldn't have died. I would never have become Batman, Kathy would never have followed my example to become Batwoman and ended up being killed, and you would never have become Nightwing and be risking your own life now."

"Maybe. Or not. Do you think you're the only guy out there who can inspire people? If it wasn't you, maybe it would have been Superman or Wonder Woman. And - if Batman had never existed, how many of the people you've saved would be dead now? How many of the crooks and murderers you've caught would still be loose? And hell, a week ago I saved a little boy from a fire. If there had been no Batman, and no Nightwing, his folks would be at his funeral around now."

"You're right, I know that," Bruce said quietly, "but it's one thing to know it with my head, and another to really believe it inside. Logical or not, I can't help the way I feel."

"It's called survivor's guilt. You wonder why you lived, when they died. It's not unusual."

Bruce smiled ironically. "I'm familiar with the concept."

There was a pause, and then Dick's voice came again. "At least now we know what you're really afraid of. Not bats. You're afraid of Batman, and what he stands for. Yourself."

Bruce was saved from a reply by the sound of a cellphone ringing. After a quick frown, Dick looked around, picked up the jacket he had tossed onto a chair, and fumbled in the pocket. He answered the call in a low voice, his back turned, but his voice still clear in the silence of the Batcave.

"Are you sure? Okay. Okay, just stay there. And don't worry, everything'll be all right."

He hung up and turned around, his eyes finding Bruce's. "That was Barbara. Her father's gone to meet the Scarecrow, in an abandoned building on the south side. She doesn't know what he's planning to do, but she's scared."

Bruce nodded, and reached up to pull his mask into place. "Then get changed, and let's go."

"Are you sure-"

"Yes. I can do this." Bruce smiled, with more confidence than he felt. I hope.

- - -

Catwoman stepped out of the stairwell, through a doorway, and stopped to look around. The beams of the flashlights she and a collection of the Scarecrow's men were carrying revealed a large space, painted a fading industrial gray, large pipes visible overhead and a few doors opening into unseen rooms. A basement. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice lowered.

"Upstairs," the Scarecrow said. "To the top. To the site of the Batman's downfall. Exciting, isn't it?" He laughed, a hollow and chilling sound.

"Yes," she said, forcing a smile. "Thrilling."

- - -

She had called for help - but that wasn't enough. No way she could just sit home, the way Dick had told her to, and let someone else take over while her father was in danger. No, she had to be there, to make sure. Had to do this for herself.

And, Barbara had to admit as she locked the door to the small basement room she had claimed for this purpose, and picked up the black and gold costume that was waiting for her - this was the most exciting thing she had ever done.

- - -

TBC...