Double or Nothing (Part Four)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. R/R because you know you really want to.

He could imagine what Bruce was doing right now. No doubt there were a few unlucky thugs that would find Batman particularly wrathful this evening, more than usual. They would chalk it up to a bad day, wrong place and wrong time. They would lick their wounds and crawl back into whatever holes they had sprang from. However, they wouldn't have to eventually come home to Batman and be greeted by the cold and stern look of his disapproval. Robin mulled that one over as he sped down the streets of Gotham, getting further and further away from the city. He figured that Batman's disapproval was worth it if he could see Cassandra Cain smile at him again.

"Follow that road," urged Scarecrow. The man's voice brought Tim back to his current predicament as he wheeled the cycle into a right turn. He was casting his lot with the enemy in hopes that said enemy could provide the cure to Cass's addiction. Robin just hoped that Scarecrow was a man of his word if indeed Jonathan Crane could still be considered a man at all.

"We're miles outside the city," informed Robin, "Couldn't you have picked a better location for your secret lair?"

"Not with you and Batman skulking around the city every night," retorted Scarecrow, "There." Robin pulled up to an old house that looked like the perfect candidate for a haunted house in a horror movie. It was no wonder Scarecrow had chosen it as his base of operations.

"I believe it's customary for the guest to enter first," said Scarecrow with a grin.

"I'm not falling for it, Crane," assured Robin, "You lead the way while I follow behind you."

"You still don't trust me?" mused Scarecrow, "You wound me, young one. I thought after all our years as adversaries you would have developed some respect for my skills."

"I don't respect anything about you, Crane," assured Robin, "Now quit wasting time and get that antidote before I break every bone in your body."

"Sticks and stones, child," reminded Scarecrow as he led the way inside, "You know that if you hurt me too much you'll never get that precious antidote." Robin hated to admit that it was true. While he could threaten Scarecrow all he liked, Tim couldn't make good on those threats if he wanted the lunatic's help. It was an undesirable fact that both he and Scarecrow knew.

"Only someone as sick as you could like living in this place," said Robin as he looked around at the inside of the house. He made sure to keep his guard up, very wary of the fact that Scarecrow could betray him at any moment. Crane probably had the house rigged with all manner of traps in case the wrong people came calling. Tim was on the enemy's ground and he reminded himself to remember that.

"You haven't seen the really good parts," assured Scarecrow with a grin, "This place is my own private house of horrors." He moved up the creaky stairs that led to the house's second floor. Robin cautiously followed Scarecrow up the stairs, keeping his guard up at all times. They were running out of time. Every second they spent casually waltzing through this deathtrap was one more second of torture that Cass was being put through. God only knew what Two-Face was planning to do with her. Everything was a literal coin-toss when it came to him. He could just as soon kill her as he could let her live.

"My lab," explained Scarecrow as he opened the door and led the way inside the room. Tim sniffed the air and wanted to throw up. It wasn't just the smells emanating from the chemicals. There were other foul odors in the air and all of them told Robin that there had been murders committed in this house. Tim was sorely tempted to forego their agreement and haul Scarecrow in this very second.

"Is that the one?" asked Robin as Crane selected a vial from one of the racks and presented it to him.

"You can feel free to check the label on it," assured Scarecrow, "I doubt you'll be able to tell whether or not I've presented you with the real antidote. I could've just as easily given you a fake. You won't know it until you've used it on whoever this girl is that you love so much."

"If you've lied to me then I'll make sure you're put in the ground instead of in jail," reminded Tim as he looked over the vial. It seemed like the real thing, at least according to the label. Batman had been working on a formula to cure the addiction to the drug but so far all efforts proved futile. Crane had been right all along. Only the Scarecrow's twisted brilliance could conjure up the antidote.

"You have what you came for," said Scarecrow, "Why don't you just leave me in peace?" Robin arched an eyebrow. Crane didn't care that Two-Face had stolen his drug and was making hundreds of dollars off of his creation? Robin wasn't sure he could buy that but at the moment he really couldn't argue. He had to get back to the casino and rescue Cass.

"I'd lay low if I were you," said Robin as he put the vial in a safe compartment on his utility belt and turned to go, "Batman's going to come down on you like a ton of bricks if you try anything after this."

"Not as hard as he'll come down on you though," said Scarecrow, "You think I can't see it? You're afraid of him. You're afraid of everything."

"I'm not staying to have a confession with a maniac," assured Robin. He turned and saw Crane grin maliciously at him. At first he thought it was just because of what Scarecrow had said but he soon realized it was something far more insidious that Crane was laughing at.

"You're right about one thing, boy," said Scarecrow as he released the gas bomb he had picked up off the table when he had selected the vial to give to Robin, "I'm not going to stay around to hear you scream." Robin's hand automatically reached for his gas mask. Unfortunately, the bomb went off in seconds and hit Tim right in the face with a dose of fear gas. Scarecrow quickly jumped back against the wall, hitting a hidden button on it that revealed a secret passage. Robin coughed and tried to back out of the cloud. There was no time for this. He had to help Cass. He had to save her. He had to . . . he couldn't lose someone again. No, that was the gas talking. He had to fight through it.

"You're a disgrace, Tim," stated a voice. Robin turned and coughed as he saw Batman approach him. No, it was a hallucination. None of this was real. He had to keep moving.

"You can chew me out later," assured Robin as he stumbled into the hallway and began moving down the stairs. He was sweating by now. He could feel his legs trembling.

"Take off that suit," ordered the Batman apparition, "You're no longer fit to wear it anymore. You've let yourself become an irrational fool."

"I love her," muttered Robin as he trudged down the stairs, "I have to save her." His legs were going to give out at any second. Tim braced himself as he felt them do so and he tumbled down the stairs.

"You can't save me." He blinked and tried to fight his way to his feet. There were too many ghosts. There were too many people he couldn't save. He saw Cass standing in front of him. He blinked hard to try and erase her. She had the same sneer on her face, the same wild insanity in her eyes, that she had when he had fought her one year ago. He was afraid that it could come back. She fell over the edge once, she could do it again. Tim was so afraid of losing her because if he lost her again then what would he become? How could he function without . . . without some sort of sign that the universe was a just place and that even though things looked dark there was still light somewhere?

"You can't save me, Tim," said Cass, "You can't save anyone."

"It's not true!" shouted Robin as he felt his body suddenly become paralyzed with fear, "It's not true!"

"Only time will tell, child," assured Scarecrow as he stepped over Robin's body on his way out the door, now clad in his costume. He had moved from the passage to the room where he kept his equipment and was now fully stocked on all manner of weapons. He was going to that casino and he was going to reclaim what was rightfully his. Then after he had taken care of Two-Face, he would be the one running the show and his grand design for Delirium could proceed according to plan.

"I would love to hear you sing some more, Robin," assured Scarecrow as Tim let out a cry of anguish, "but I must be off to make my rounds." With that, Scarecrow tipped his hat to his gracious houseguest and departed, intent on making good use of the cycle that had brought both him and Robin out to this God-forsaken house.

XXXXX

It was dark, so incredibly dark that Cass wondered if she was still alive at all. Was this death? No, she had died twice before and neither of those times felt like this. There had been light those times. That was when she had been good. Maybe this is what bad people saw when they died.

"Still holding yourself back." Cass saw something move in the darkness and tried to follow it as it stepped in front of her. It was . . . it was her. Cass looked at the figure. It was like looking in a mirror. Everything was exactly the same except . . . there was something different. The other Cassandra had a different stance, more aggressive. The look in her eyes was cold and malicious.

"What do you mean?" questioned Cass, "Who are you?"

"My name is Cassandra Cain," replied the double, "My parents were David Cain and Lady Shiva. I was born and raised to kill people. I accept that."

"I don't," stated Cass, "I'm not you. You're not me."

"Very true," replied Cassandra, "but I'm still part of you. You hold yourself back, Cassie. You try to squeeze yourself into Batman's mold and Robin's mold and Oracle's mold and everyone else's mold. Both of us know what you really are."

"I made my choice," stated Cass firmly, "Killing is wrong."

"That's the funny thing about choices," mused Cassandra with a cruel grin, "You can always remake them. You can always shirk a promise."

"Doesn't make it right," assured Cass, "I'm here now because of me. I want this. I want to fight. I want to be good."

"But you're not," stated Cassandra, "Did you think I'd go away after only a year? Did you think you could magically make everything better again? You really are stupid. I'll never leave you. I'll haunt your nightmares until the day you die. You can't run from yourself, Cassie."

"Tim loves me," reminded Cass, "That's all I need."

"You think he cares about you?" snorted Cassandra, "He cares about being the hero and saving the girl. He loves tying himself in knots with his stupid and childish morals. You know they can never work for you, Cassie. You can never be that."

"I can!" snapped Cass as she took a shot at Cassandra.

"I doubt it," replied Cassandra as she blocked the punch and smacked Cass in the face, "You'll crawl back eventually."

XXXXX

Cass stirred and opened her eyes. Her body felt like it was on fire. Every muscle ached with pain. She flexed her arms and found herself tied to the gurney. Seeing the mangled visage of Two-Face before her was enough of a reminder that her current situation was dismal. She . . . she needed the drug again. Her body hurt so badly that she . . . she had to have it again.

"You look awfully familiar," stated Two-Face as he stared at his prize, "One of us has seen you before." Cass tried to struggle against her bonds but every movement made her body hurt all the more.

"That's the bitch about having an addiction," informed Two-Face with a grin, "You gotta stay high or else you live your life in pain." He held up a vial of liquid. Cass recognized that it was Deuce. She tried to hold back the gnawing hunger that suddenly gripped her body. She had to get it under control. She couldn't give in to it.

"You want this, don't you?" asked Two-Face as he dangled the vial in front of her face, "I gave you a pretty powerful shot. I figured it would kill you but I should've known you'd be tougher than that. I guess it didn't really matter either way though."

"Please," whimpered Cass. Her body had betrayed her again and the plea had unintentionally escaped her lips. She was too weak. She couldn't . . . she couldn't think straight without that poison in her veins.

"You'll get another shot in time," assured Two-Face, "That's assuming, of course, that you're lucky enough and that you're fine with doing me a few favors." Cass tried to struggle. She had to get out and find Tim. She had to fight back. She had to . . . she had to get another shot.

"I saw how you took apart Robin and Huntress," explained Two-Face, "I figure, for the right amount of this stuff, you'll take out anyone I tell you to." Cass grimaced in pain as she remembered suffering through the waking nightmare that the dose had given her. She couldn't go through that again.

"I still say you look familiar," said Two-Face, "Harvey remembers seeing your picture. That was you, wasn't it Cassandra?" Cass glared hatefully at Two-Face and bit her lip. How had this maniac discovered who she was? Her father had wiped out every single trace of her existence from the moment she was born.

"Harvey's talked to your father a lot," explained Two-Face, "Did you know that when Batman left, he let Harvey protect this city? That must've been a real burn to get passed over by him."

"How do you know?" questioned Cass.

"Harvey needed your father to give him information," explained Two-Face, "It was a big case and David Cain knew everything about the killer so Harvey pumped your dad for information in exchange for time off his sentence."

"What about me?" asked Cass.

"David Cain's proud of only one thing," assured Two-Face, "He's proud of his little girl, Cassie. He showed Harvey your picture once. I knew one of us had seen your face somewhere. We're very good at remembering faces." Cass eyed the man suspiciously. How much did he know beyond her name and her face? What other secrets about her past were locked inside his dichotomous mind?

"So, how much did it sting to know that Batman didn't have faith in you?" asked Two-Face. Cass looked into his eyes and swore she could see someone else in there. Was it Two-Face asking the question or was it Harvey Dent?

"You're insane," stated Cass, "You're a monster."

"I bet it was a lot," assured Two-Face as he took out his coin and flipped it, the motion continuing in an automatic loop of toss-catch-toss, "Harvey sympathizes. Bats didn't have enough faith in him to treat him like a real ally. He was just the placeholder till the real hero got back from his vacation. He was just Batman's tool."

"No," stated Cass. She hated hearing that word because it reminded her of the way she once thought. She knew what it was like to really be used and it was nothing like the way Batman had treated her. He had been more of a father to her than her real father ever could've been. She knew the absolute truth now. The only tool she had been was David Cain's, not Batman's.

"Tell me I'm wrong again," said Two-Face with a sneer as he flipped his coin again, "Right and wrong, good and bad, are just words. We made it all up so that we could have some kind of law and order in society. You know why your father's in jail and I'm not?"

"Don't care," snorted Cass. Two-Face held up his coin, showing Cass the scarred side of the two-headed silver dollar.

"He got a bad toss and I didn't," summed up Two-Face simply, "That's all there is to it. Good things still happen to bad people, kid, and bad things certainly happen to good people. Look at yourself and tell me I'm lying." Cass felt the inside of her body shudder violently. She needed another shot. She couldn't stand living with this pain. Maybe Two-Face was right. Maybe there was no justice because if there was then why was she still here? She had killed people and she deserved to be punished. Where was the just force in the universe that would come down and punish her for her crimes? Was it all just luck of the draw that she had gotten away with murder while other people hadn't?

"I bet you're really hungry for it now," sneered Two-Face as he noticed the fact that Cass's body was writhing in agony, "You know the drill though. We flip for it." Two-Face flipped his coin and let it land on his open palm.

"You got a good toss this time," assured Two-Face as he loaded the vial into a syringe and made sure it was ready, "Next time you might not be so lucky." Cass winced as he stuck the needle into her arm. It was like . . . it was like something she couldn't describe. She hated it and loved it at the same time.

"Hey, Cassie," hissed the voice of her evil twin, "You miss me?" Cass screamed as she slipped into a drug-induced nightmare again.

XXXXX

Jonathan Crane despised being mocked. It was the thing that, above all else, he had tried to avoid for his entire life. He was brilliant, cunning, a genius some would say. He deserved respect and, with the power he wielded, he deserved to be feared by those who couldn't respect him. Above all else, Scarecrow abhorred being mocked. He hadn't shown it to the Dark Knight or to the Boy Wonder but this latest mockery had angered him to no end. It was bad enough to be laughed at by one's peers. Scarecrow had learned to put up with the taunts and jeers his colleagues sometimes hurled at him. However, this was mockery on an entirely different level. Someone had the gall to take his brilliant scheme and use it for their own purposes. No one lived to laugh about turning Jonathan Crane into a joke. Scarecrow always made sure of that.

The cycle handled well and Scarecrow had used it to make excellent time back into Gotham. He eventually had to ditch the bike though in favor of a more stealthy approach on foot.

"Harvey," muttered Scarecrow as he stared out of his position in an alleyway and looked at the casino, "I thought you of all people knew about professional courtesy. Well, dear Mr. Dent, I hope to teach you some manners. I wonder if when you scream you'll do it in stereo." Scarecrow's plan of attack was very simple. Various establishments in Gotham were prone to being targets of robberies or other such crimes. It was, therefore, highly likely that Scarecrow could simply show up at the casino and cause a riot. With that in progress and, no doubt, distracting the police who were bound to show up, Scarecrow could confront Two-Face and reclaim what was rightfully his. Then while the cops were busy busting Dent, Scarecrow could be off with his precious Delirium and save it for a more opportune time. Two-Face would be sent to Arkham while he would walk away with the drug and devise a new use for it. Everything would all work out in his favor.

"I believe that all bets have been placed," said Scarecrow to himself as he climbed up a fire escape to the roof of a nearby building and then vaulted himself over the dead air and onto the roof of the casino.

"How kind," mused Scarecrow as he saw the open window where Robin and Huntress had entered the building earlier in the evening, "No doubt part of the Bat's handiwork." Scarecrow climbed through the window and entered the office area. He looked around and noticed that some of the thugs Two-Face was using were still lying unconscious on the floor.

"So hard to find good help," mused Scarecrow as he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. He figured that Two-Face would be in the basement. He knew that Dent wouldn't risk conducting that kind of business up here. Besides, the basement provided a far better atmosphere for torture and murder. Scarecrow knew this from personal experience.

"How fortuitous," said Scarecrow as he saw the elevator at the end of the hallway open its doors. The elevator would be just the thing he needed to get downstairs. Unfortunately, the thugs that departed from the elevator had something to say in opposition and they chose to make their points with guns instead of words.

"Gentlemen, you picked a very bad time to come calling," assured Scarecrow as he flicked a trio of fear gas bombs at the thugs, cackling with glee as the bombs spewed their contents into the midst of his advancing foes. He would wet his appetite with these idiots before moving on to the main course. If nothing else, it would at least put him in good humor before he took back his creation from Two-Face.

XXXXX

Two-Face stared into the eyes of his captive and watch her moan in pain. The shot he had given her was a lighter dose than the first one. He wanted to make sure that she wasn't satisfied with the high. He wanted to make sure that she kept needing him and the relief that he provided. She was going to be his extra insurance that no one in Gotham would oppose him.

"Boss, there's something going on upstairs," said one of his minions. Two-Face sneered and turned his attention to the thug.

"What's the problem?" asked Two-Face, "Did Bats and his friends decide to push their luck again?"

"Worse than that," assured the thug, "Scarecrow." Two-Face frowned. He had timed this little scam perfectly so that there would be no way that Crane could get out of Arkham. Apparently someone had paid for an early release. Two-Face knew he had been playing a dangerous game when he had swiped the formula from Crane and began manufacturing the drug. Now it appeared that the law of averages was about to come calling.

"Keep him busy for a little while longer," ordered Two-Face as he looked back to Cass, "I think he'll be pleasantly surprised at what's in store for him." He knew he would have to wait until the effects of the drug wore off before he could use Cass but that could be worked around. He winced slightly as she howled again. He had a feeling that before the night was over, she wouldn't be the only one screaming.