Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any aspect of the Batman universe. I own nothing save for any original characters that I have created.

A/N: I won't spoil anything, but I'm really excited to write the next chapter! ;)

Drowning in Fear

It had been years since Teagan had last been to the river, and yet it had faithfully remained exactly as she remembered; the trees in the surrounding forest swaying gently as the wind drifted through its limbs to carry the scent of pine and wet soil, the ambient sound of falling rain pelting the river's surface, the almost-ethereal mist floating through the grounds below a gray sky. Through the fog she could see the wooden dock where she had spent much of her childhood summers, either sitting at its edge with her feet dangling inches above the water and her nose buried in the pages of a book, or running along its planks before letting out a triumphant cry of glee and jumping into a cannon-ball dive.

She had been happy then, a bright, doe-eyed girl with a propensity to drift off into daydreams, as sunny and cheerful as she was blissfully naïve.

But as she walked along the river's edge, the heels of her pumps sinking into wet grass and soft mud with every step, Teagan felt a growing sense of dread. The place that had long ago brought her comfort and days full of joy now felt strange and unwelcoming and wrong; there was a coldness in the air beyond any she had ever felt before, a biting chill that lingered even as she pulled her drenched coat tightly around her and rubbed her hands together in a vain attempt to create warmth, and the river's usual signs of life—the croaking chorus of frogs, the incessant chirping of birds—had been replaced by a disquieting stillness.

She felt as if she were forgetting something, a vague memory scratching at the surface of her clouded, hazy subconscious, something horrible and frightening and something that she was not entirely sure she wanted to remember—

"Teeeeeaaaaaa..."

The sound of a child's sing-song voice wailed through the trees, and instantly Teagan froze.

She remembered.

She remembered her sorrow, her guilt, her mother's endless sobbing and the late-night arguments where she lied awake in bed to hear her father spit out her name as if it disgusted him. She remembered looking up from her dinner plate to see her father glaring at her from across the table, every line of his grief-worn face etched with silent anger. She remembered coming home from school to find her mother sitting alone on the couch, stiff and emotionless, her eyes red from hours worth of tears and several framed photographs missing from the apartment walls. She remembered the sadness she felt when months passed with no word from him, and it was only after spending her birthday sitting beside the phone, waiting for a call that never came, that Teagan finally realized the painful, crushing truth: she was never going to see her father again.

"Tea! Bet you can't catch me, Teeeeaaaaa..."

Most vividly of all, Teagan remembered her young introduction to one of life's greatest cruelties: loneliness.

"P...Paul?"

No. No! That wasn't possible. It had been over ten years since—

From the corner of her eye she saw a blur move across the river's edge, small and impossibly fast.

"Paul! Wait! I'm over here!"

She began to run towards the dock, calling his name over and over again in the desperate hope that he would hear her.

It would be different this time. She was older now, stronger and faster than before. She would reach him in time and everything was going to be just fine. Dad wouldn't leave and Mom wouldn't cry and Paul wouldn't be—

"AAAHH!"

Teagan cried out in pain as her foot connected with the edge of a sharp rock, followed a split-second later by the gruesome sound of her ankle snapping. Agonizing pain pulsated through her leg as it buckled beneath her and sent her crumpling onto the river's wet shore. As she lay in the mud and stared up into the gray sky, her mind racing from shock and pain, she realized the weather had begun to change; what was once a light breeze was now violent gusts that whipped through her hair and stung her eyes, and cold rain fell with renewed, biting intensity.

"Tea! Over here!"

Slick with mud and rain, Teagan summoned every ounce of her strength to roll over onto her stomach, raising herself onto her elbows to stare through the now-parted fog.

A small boy walked towards her atop the river water as smoothly as if it were land beneath his feet, his every step sending ripples across its surface. His eyes and wet hair were the same dark shade as her own, his skin blanched a sickly pale and his lips blue from cold, and his water-soaked clothing clung to his tiny frame.

Paul.

Teagan closed her eyes and began to weep, and when she opened them again he was standing before her.

"I'm so sorry, Paul. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she sobbed. "I tried. I really, really tried."

He crossed his small arms across his chest in an exaggerated gesture of childish displeasure, his bottom lip jutted outwards into a sulking pout.

"I told you I didn't wanna go swimming," he said, every word voiced tinged with annoyance. "Remember?"

"Paul...please, don't..."

"We weren't supposed to go to the river by ourselves, remember? It was dark outside and the woods were scary, and I wanted to go home but you said it would be okay. You said nothing bad would happen. You lied."

Angry tears began to spill from the corners of his wide, cherubic eyes and he balled his hands into tiny fists.

"No!" Teagan shook her head frantically. "I didn't know this would—I didn't mean—"

"Why didn't you help me, Tea?" Paul cried, his tiny voice now a high-pitched whimper. "Why did you run away?"

"But Paul, I tried. I ran to go get Mom and Dad. But I couldn't see in the dark, and I got lost and by the time I found my way back home they'd already realized we were gone, and the sun was rising..."

Her voice trailed off and she collapsed into fresh sobs.

"You forgot about me," Paul whined, wiping his nose with the back of a chubby hand. "You grew up and moved away and now you don't ever wanna play with me anymore."

Teagan shook her head sadly.

"I could never forget about you, Paul. I miss you every single day and I'll always blame myself for—Paul, NO!"

Teagan flung herself forward in frantic attempt to stop the boy, but it was too late; he was fast—so impossibly fast—and beyond her reach that her fingers helplessly grazing the hem of his shirt before she slipped on the dock's wet surface to land with a hard, painful thud. She watched in horror as Paul jumped off the pier's edge into the river with a loud splash, his small body quickly swept away by the current's overpowering waves before disappearing entirely beneath is murky surface.

Just like before.

She jumped in after him without hesitation, gasping in shock as her body connected with the ice-cold water.

This time would be different. Everything was going to be just fine.

The water that had been so refreshingly cool all those summers ago now chilled her to the bone and set her teeth chattering. Wave after wave crashed over her head, filling her nose and leaving her lungs aching for air, and she kicked her feet frantically to stay afloat, intense pain shooting through her leg with every movement.

"Paul! W-w-where are you? Paul!"

Silence.

I'm too late. Again. I failed—

She jolted in surprise and pain at the sensation of something unseen brushing against her injured ankle.

"P-paul? I th-that you?"

A cold grip encircled her ankle, and before Teagan had the chance to scream she was pulled under.

Everything was a panicked blur—the copper taste of the water as it flooded her mouth and choked her throat, her frenzied, blind kicks of desperation, her frantic struggling as she attempted to free herself and swim away.

No! I don't want to die!

Her vision grew dim and fuzzy as she sank into the river's abyss, her lungs threatening to burst inside her chest; the grasp on her ankle felt like a heavy weight, a chain dragging her closer and closer to her grave at the bottom of the river. After what felt like an agonizing eternity her struggling had slowed to weak, flimsy protests before ceasing all together into a resigned, sinking stillness.

I'm sorry, Paul.

For everything.

She closed her eyes, knowing that she would never open them again.

"It's alright, Miss James. You're safe now."

Teagan became dimly aware of a hand brushing lightly across her forehead in slow, gentle strokes, and a voice whispering soothingly into her ear. Her eyelids fluttered open, and for the second time in as many days she found herself staring up at the asylum's mold-entrenched basement ceiling.

"What...what's going on?" The grogginess in her own voice took her by surprise—had she been asleep?

"Shh, lie still. You've just been through quite the ordeal, I'm sure."

She turned her head to see Crane standing beside the cell bed, a syringe in his hand and a small, reassuring smile on his lips.

"Ordeal? Dr. Crane, I don't understand—"

"I believe you said something about a...what was it, a river?"

Crane watched as Teagan's confusion dawned to horrified realization, his own expression betraying nothing of the private, silent satisfaction he felt at her reaction.

Oh, this was going to be good.

"Please, Miss James," he protested when the girl began to excitedly rise from her prone position, "I must insist that you remain calm. Whatever you saw was just an illusion, a product of the hallucinogen I injected you with. Remember?"

She froze in place, visibly taken aback by Crane's words. Her brow furrowed as she wracked her memory for something, anything that would make sense of her current—

"The toxin," she whispered. "It was all from the toxin."

Crane nodded. "Yes."

"Then he wasn't really...I didn't..."

Teagan sank back onto the mattress, burying her face in her hands as she burst into sudden, mournful sobs.

Again Crane felt the familiar irritation she was beginning to inspire in him with increasingly-uncomfortable ease, this time joined by a heavy, equally-unwanted feeling that made his chest feel slightly tight—whatever it was, he did not care to find the name for it.

Focus.

"Miss James?"

Teagan moved her hands and looked up at Crane to reveal an expression etched with raw, pained grief. He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and set about gently dabbing away her tears, from the wet corners of her eyes to the trails of ruined mascara sliding down her cheeks, until her face was dry and clean behind her glasses.

"There, isn't that better? Now take a deep breath and tell me what happened." He took her hand in his own and gave it what he hoped was a slight, reassuring squeeze, like he'd seen so many of his colleagues do to their patients. "Take your time."

Crane listened intently as Teagan told him about her nightmare—how the river hard turned from a warm happy memory to a cold, frightening place, her guilt over her brother's death and her attempt to save what was only a specter, the slow agony of her life ebbing away as she drowned in the endless water—and maintained both his calm, concerned facade and the grip on her hand even as he hungrily devoured every detail.

Excellent. It had gone even better than he had expected.

When she was done Teagan surprised him by suddenly leaning forward and burying her face in his chest. Even as he felt a hot rush of anger at her brazenness and fought his instinctive urge to recoil from her touch, Crane recognized the embrace as progress; she was letting her guard down, allowing him get closer to both her and his eventual victory.

He hesitated before gingerly wrapping his arms around her shoulders, feeling her sigh against him as her shoulders began to tremble from a fresh wave of sobs. He looked down to see her clinging to his jacket, her eyes closed and her face pressed against his chest as if even his heartbeat was providing her comfort, and felt a surge of pride.

Close. So close.

Crane planted a light kiss on her head, breathing in the scent of her hair, and smiled into the darkness.