AN: Arkham-verse exclusive, mauling and all. In keeping with Knight's 'this is the final game even if you don't believe us', Kitty would probably be dead or well on her way by the end of it. :)
Gotham's underworld, or at least the major players, have one advantage that Batman doesn't-they know Jason's not dead. Harley can't keep her trap shut, you know they know. That, and in the prequel comics, Dr. Crane just immediately went, 'oh, joy, another Bat'. There's only so many it could be; factor in 'this one's really angry at Batman', and, well…you do the math.
Title from the Starset song of that name.
Gotham's cold.
Antoine knew it would be, because he looked at the weather forecasts, but still. It's like, August. How is it cold? Why? What is wrong with this city? Maybe the ice-guy's out and that's why it's cold…whatever. He doesn't know, or care, anymore. He cares that it's foggy, which makes visibility a real bitch and makes him jumpy.
Not for the first time, he wishes somebody else had to come with the boss to meet their client. This sucks.
Google says Jonathan Crane, better known as the Scarecrow, hasn't been seen since an 'incident' at the now-defunct Arkham Asylum, and is most likely dead. The boss says-and Antoine's quoting here-'those fuckers don't die'. How he knows this, Antoine has no clue, but he has yet to be wrong, so.
Scarecrow's not at the docks, which makes sense. Antoine's seen his face (mask? He's praying it's a mask, what the hell), that's bound to attract attention, Gotham or not. How they're supposed to find him, though, is a mystery.
They've been waiting for twenty minutes now and Antoine's starting to get jumpy. The Knight, unfairly, seems unfazed. Why the hell are they even here?
He turns to watch a shadow (probably a bird, could be Batman) cross the skyline. When he turns back, people have materialized out of the fog. Big guys, your typical hired muscle if he had to guess, and a woman-little thing, all in black and shiny goggles. The gas mask hanging around her neck says Scarecrow, and Antoine wants to leave. Right now. Something's off, and it could just be Gotham, but-if you'll pardon the expression-his Spidey-senses are tingling.
The woman tilts her head, and then her upper body, back to look at them and red lips curve into a frown. She steps back and beckons one of her goons over. The guy's moving a little slow, and when he gets closer Antoine sees two little marks above his eyes. What-
BLAM!
The goon's head splinters, brains and bone hitting the damp wood at their feet, and the body slumps. The woman kicks the limbs until it's flat and steps onto its back, grinning broadly.
"That's better. Girl could hurt herself lookin' up at you." Antoine eyes the gun in her hand with no small amount of trepidation and wonders, again, why are they here? "The Arkham Knight, I presume?"
The Knight tilts his head a few centimeters past necessary and rumbles, "Richardson."
"Look at you!" She reaches up and flicks an ear. Antoine's waiting for her to lose a hand, but the Knight doesn't move. "You have done your schoolwork, haven't you? Y'know, every other copybat I've seen has ended up dead or…unwell…but who knows, maybe you'll be the lucky one."
"I don't need luck. Where's Crane."
"Shh." She twitches a finger. "Not so loud, sweetie, you'll attract attention." She steps off the corpse (corpse…Jesus) and circles them, goggles gleaming in the streetlights. "No cape? You're no fun at all anymore-"
The Knight whips around and seizes the collar of her coat, lifts her off her feet. Both sides raise their guns, but their employers don't seem to notice or care.
"Keep talking. Go on."
Richardson just laughs, choked and nowhere near sane. The laughter devolves into a horrible choking noise, and when the grin returns, Antoine's pretty sure he sees blood flecks on her teeth and lips. They make her look like a fucking vampire.
"Sweetie, I'm at the point where I'm less worried about dying and more worried about who to take with me."
Antoine catches a glimpse of…something…inside her sleeve. He would like to get back on the boat and leave and never, ever come to Gotham again.
The Knight snorts.
"Done?"
She says nothing and he sets her down. Skirmish averted.
"Come along, you'll be late."
Antoine's perfectly willing to nope the fuck out, but the Knight follows and he can't, in good conscience, leave the guy alone with the crazy lady. Not here.
Doesn't mean he has to like it. He should be more of an asshole…
Richardson leads them through dark alleys and quiet streets until they emerge in neon-lit Chinatown. Somehow, the lights do nothing to make her look less freaky. If anything, they make things worse-those goggles are dark pits above a too-wide grin.
"This way. Jonathan's been looking forward to seeing you."
"The feeling's mutual."
Not exactly. Antoine has no desire to meet the Scarecrow face to face.
"I'm sure it is. Run along boys, I can manage."
"But the Doc said-"
Richardson stills, hand halfway to the doorknob, and turns to the lugs next to her.
"What did I just say?"
"Uh…"
"I said to run along boys, I can manage. I suggest you do so."
They leave without another word and Richardson opens the door. Antoine's hoping for bright lights and maybe the smell of hot chocolate or even pumpkin spice, but it's no better inside. It's dim. The lights are flickering. There's cobwebs everywhere and the generic picture on the wall is creepy as all hell. Somehow. Maybe the kid looks too dead, he doesn't know.
"Stay here and don't touch."
Antoine wants to hug himself lest he accidentally touch something. For safety. He settles for inching over to look at the picture. Maybe it's less weird close up…nope, that appears to be a woman nursing a dead child.
"Sir?"
"You heard her. Don't touch."
Of all the times for the boss to decide to be a smartass…
There is what appears to be dried blood on the corner of the frame. Or dried…flesh, anyway. He's not sure, exactly. It's dry and flaky and brown and looks like…okay, it's probably not, but it kinda looks like a chunk of eyeball.
He's just gonna…go over there.
There's a shriek from upstairs and it's only a rigorous amount of training that ensures he doesn't flinch. The Knight tips his head up.
"Poor bastard."
Can they go? Surely this isn't really necessary. Why are they even here? Can't they Skype?
The Knight's gone over to a door and y'know what, fine, he can deal with the horrible death that will probably come to him if he touches anything. Antoine's staying right here, thank you very much. Hopefully Richardson broke her neck on the way upstairs and they don't have to go see Crane.
"D'you like him?" JESUS FUCKING- "Work in progress. Batman won't appreciate him, I'm sure, but he really is one of Jonathan's best efforts." What. What the hell.
Richardson walks over to the door the Knight's looking at and beckons for Antoine to come see. He doesn't want to come see.
He goes anyway. The door has a very thick glass window, letting them see into a well-lit room with…with a…
What the hell.
His first thought is that they've got the actual Robin in there, in which case SHIT Batman'll be here any minute they're fucked, but then…no, that's not…can't be. The uniform doesn't match up with the pictures he's seen.
What the hell?
"Watch this." Richardson's grinning again, all teeth. She raps sharply on the glass and the (kid, that's a kid) jerks his head up. "Robin."*
"Richardson…" The Knight's tense. Most people wouldn't notice, but Antoine's worked for the guy for a few years now. He knows the signs-the boss is upset, the kind of upset that leads to broken bones.
"You'll like this." That grin says no, they won't like this, but she's not looking at him and Antoine would like to keep it that way. "Crowbar."
What the-
The kid hurls himself at the door, shrieking and clawing at the glass with enough force to snap off a nail. The Knight steps back, draws his sidearm, and fires. The bullet embeds itself in the glass, but the screaming and clawing doesn't stop.
"Ah-ah…can't have something happening to him. Robin, that's enough. It's all right, sweetie."
And just like that, the screaming and scrambling stops and the kid returns to his chair, dead eyes fixed on the window.
Antoine wants to puke.
"As I said, he really is one of Jonathan's best pieces. Goes to show you what patience can do…come along. You tire him out, I will personally ensure that you leave."
Antoine wants to doubt it, but who knows how many other…pieces…are around, unconfined.
The Knight is silent and if Antoine didn't know better, he'd say he's rattled. Great, they're gonna die. Good bye, cruel world…
Richardson leads them up three flights of stairs and into a small, sparse room. There's a lab table on the far wall and next to that…
Antoine's first thought (hope) is that that's a mask. It's gotta be, right? Right? Please. That's not…faces don't…
Richardson sinks onto a stool on the other side of the room. The…man…stares impassively at them.
"The Arkham Knight." The features twist into what might be a smile. "Look at you."
They know something, don't they. That's annoying.
The Knight remains still.
"Crane."
Crane laughs, a breathy thing that sounds more like a death rattle, and cocks his head. Antoine takes in the syringes on his fingers and decides he doesn't want to know what's in them.
"Well, well, you do look the part, don't you?" Maybe it's not a mask…guy looks patched back together as it is. No. No, it's a mask, Antoine is sticking to that because it's the better option. "Quite the dedication, considering…no matter. You sought me out, why."
What? When? Why.
"Certain circles are saying you want to take down the Batman."
WHAT.
NO.
If Antoine didn't think he'd pay dearly for it, he'd drag the Knight out by one pointy ear and demand a psych eval. Yeah, he knows the drill, he knows what they've all been trained for, but…but…not this way. Not with this thing.
Scarecrow does the creepy death-laugh again and moves towards them, slowly and carefully. Somehow, that does nothing to make him less scary.
"That, Knight, would be a massive understatement." He's right up close now and holy shit that's not a mask that's not possible. Antoine kind of wants to hurl. Or at least vacate the premises. "I want to make him suffer for what he did to me."
"And I want him dead." Well, yeah, they all know that, but wanting and doing are two different things. "You've never been successful before."
"What makes you think you will be?" Scarecrow sounds like he's smiling. Antoine can't tell. "You look like him, that means nothing."
The Knight ignores that and says, "He's just one man. If you can wear him down, you can kill him."
"Is that so." Scarecrow sounds incredibly disinterested. Okay, time to go, services rejected, gee, what a shame. "And how do you propose we do that, hmm?"
No. No. Be disinterested. Be a prideful bastard and want to keep the Batman to yourself.
"I have an army."
Antoine is half-expecting somebody to pipe up with we have a Hulk, but he's not so lucky.
"Fascinating." Please don't come any closer. "Perhaps you are worth hearing out, after all."
Great.
He meets Richardson's goggles and she grins at him, all teeth.
This is going to go badly, he can just tell.
THE END
*The unfortunate sap they've got in there appears in Encounters. BUMMER.