Disclaimer: I do not own the DC characters
Claimer: I own my OC characters
Thanks to Bruce Timm and his team for their works and to Geeky BMWW Fan for her help on this story.
Chapter Two
No Rest for a Weary Mind
Bruce stared at the world below, his eyes fixed on the good people he devoted his entire existence to, good people who did not even know that he--the air-headed billionaire playboy and social philanthropist--was their nighttime protector. Both Bruce Wayne and Batman gave everything that he was to them. Giving up a life so that many others could have the chance at having one.
As Batman, he became the masked protector of his birthplace of Gotham City. It was an honorable mantle others had not the resolve or devotion to achieve. He had both the mental fortitude and physical strength, all of which were the greatest tools in his list of arsenals being the Dark Knight.
Yet neither weapons for the Batman was present on this day.
He stood in front of a window dressed in his normal black business suit, dazed by the glory of the city. A city Bruce fought every night to protect and reclaim from the depths of crime and corruption. His Gotham City was a beautiful place, contrary to what most people believed. Sculpted stone architecture stretching for miles and serving to enrich the people with the city's own unique culture. Being a true testament that good people still existed in dark areas of the world.
He wasn't sure whether to be proud of the things he did or simply regret them. Either way, he was Bruce Wayne, and as such, was also Batman.
Who else was there that the man could be?
Bruce frowned, hating the mirrored image of himself in the window.
His parents would never have allowed him to become the man or men that he was. But as consequence of them not being alive, no one was left that could stop him from becoming this way. Though Alfred did what he could to prevent the makings of the Bat, Bruce was too far gone in despair for any such help from his friend.
In the tragedy of his parents' murder, the world saw the birth of the being the underworlds of crime would come to fear. A monster and savior in the eyes of everyone who could not begin to understand the reasons why he did this. He was an entity of the shadows waging war against the very thing that had created him. A war that could have victories yet would continue on and on even after his death.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Bruce closed his eyes, feeling it once again brewing from the depths of his mind. Just like the last few nights, he had come to recognize the first signs of the approaching episodes. It hurt and the muscles throughout his body, still sore from the bitter fight at S.T.A.R. Labs, began to tighten.
His body uncontrollably stiffened, bracing itself against the arriving pain. Beginning always slowly, like an overflowing pot of water throughout his mind and body, Bruce summoned his mental disciplines into action. Nothing from previous studies nor of past experiences could identify the episodes from pain nor the cause.
His teeth grinded together nearly to the point of cracking. Closing his eyes tightly, the Dark Knight endured the first few moments of mental and physical torment with only mild grunts as his response.
The gun; the same damn gun that fired again and again.
Then again, to steal away and destroy Bruce's life and family. All at once the caring and compassionate existence of an eight year old boy came to an end that night. Replaced by a world of pain and hurt that Bruce could neither face nor escape.
He feared losing them again; just like the fear Bruce had of losing anyone else that was close to him. His body and mind hurt, but he refused to give in to the pain. And a tear of all things that could come out of this appeared in Bruce's eye, and threatened to fall down his face. A hard thing such as a tear to get pass Bruce, who thought he had shed every last one at their funeral.
Tears from him were a hated thing and a weakness the man killed in a blink of an eye. The only way to ensure it wouldn't happen again was to replace the sorrow and loss with the hatred and darkness Bruce's heart was all too familiar with. With rage beyond redemption and beyond any understanding that eventually forced the pain of his mind and body to subside.
For now.
Bruce..... a voice called.
He wanted to shut them out, every last one of them. Though the pain was tamed, it was no less still present within him. He wanted to forget it, and no longer wished to carry it with him every single day.
But he couldn't forget. If Bruce did that, then he would forget them and his promise.
So instead, he chose to....
To forget and ignore the light that wanted in around him and refused to let it anywhere near.
"Either you enjoy brooding every waking hour or you just simply have nothing else better to do," a familiar voice said.
Bruce's eyes shot open, forgoing the soul searching that he found himself in. The waking nightmare was over. Bruce was in control; restoring the cold temperament of the Batman as his ultimate safeguard.
He turned away from the window, face solidly grim and cool as he had always carried himself.
"Dick." He folded his arms across his chest.
"Knock, knock," the former Robin entered carrying the neutral smile he always was seen with. Dressed in a simple white t-shirt with a black jacket and pants, Dick Grayson stood almost with an almost amused look at his mentor's obvious annoyance.
"You could have called letting me know that you were going to stop by," Bruce said letting his arms fall at his sides.
"Nice to see you too." Walking towards the front end of Bruce's desk, Dick pulled out from his jacket a computer disk and waved it. "Barbra downloaded the data you wanted. Everything from small time bump fights to the major stuff is in here."
Bruce took his seat and grabbed at the disk his son was tauntingly waving at him. "Shesh, no need to snatch."
Ignoring him, Bruce loaded the disk into the computer on his desk and after a few security screens a full listing of crimes committed over the past few weeks appeared. Bruce began studying each one that was important enough to be worth his time.
"Barbra couldn't have sent this through the computer link?"
"She could," Dick began. "But in her wisdom made me the deliver boy, so we could spend some time together."
Bruce scuff low enough for Dick to hear at which the young hero smiled.
"Yeah, that was what I thought too when she told me we needed some bonding time." Dick stretched his hands above his head careless and after a few popping noises began, "So what have you been up to lately, old man? Tim tells me that you haven't been showing up with him for patrol."
"I've been busy," Bruce said flatly as his attention was drawn to the computer screen.
"With the Justice League and all?" Dick's face held a sinister grin. "You've been spending a lot of time with those guys upstairs lately. Even for someone such as you who is suppose to be the ultimate loner."
"Things have been coming up that have required my special attention in many of the Justice League affairs." Bruce paid no mind to the bone Dick was fetching.
"Right," Dick said slowly while being mildly amused. He watched his former mentor bury himself deeper in work trying to avoid the oncoming bullet being sent.
Hardly nothing got past Dick's detective skills these days. He hated being so much like his old man to not allow one thing go unnoticed. Always on the alert to the things around him and never missing a beat.
Bruce was the one that trained him after all.
The Dark Knight's silent reason for going up in that space thing as often as he did was too tantalizing not to torment him with. A little secret Dick would keep and pick at from time to time than tuck away for another day.
Dick waited a moment longer before he dared to toy with the next topic to really get at his old man. "So the Justice League? Don't you think its about time-"
"No!" Bruce stated firmly.
Dick saw that coming with no surprise and again smiled.
"I didn't even-"
"No!" Bruce interrupted again even stronger in stating and making it clear that was to be the end of it.
This was a topic long time coming and Bruce avoided it too, but Dick couldn't resist not bringing the conversation up, if at all to further get on his father's nerves.
"Why not?" he pointed to his chest. "I should be in all honesty at the top of the roster next to you big seven. I'm am, if not one of the best martial artiest in the world. Not to mention I have the same set of deductive skills as you do."
That got him.
Instantly the keystrokes on the board ceased and Bruce responded with simply a raised eyebrow. A challenging tension filled the space between the two as Dick readied to square off his wit and skill against the man that taught him them. It would be all to sweet of a thing to bring that smug attitude of his old man's down a much needed peg or two.
Bruce turned his chair towards his son almost signaling the acceptance of the little duel. Expecting his old man to make the first move, Dick remained silent as he stared down at him.
To the younger man's surprise however, Bruce's face fell into submission as he leaned back in his chair. His fingers touching their respective counterparts in from of him before his shoulders rose from a deeply intake of oxygen.
"Dick," he began. It felt like Bruce had just sallowed rocks or something, all of which got lodged in his throat. Rocks he wouldn't mind throwing at someone right now. "the reason why I don't want you or any of the others working with the Justice League is because, doing so would be putting all of you in an unnecessary amount of danger."
"Part from dealing with ghoulish monsters, metahuman freaks, and facing the minds of the criminally insane? In case you haven't noticed Bruce, all of us here already deal with that on a nightly basis," Dick sounded almost annoyed.
"Not like this you haven't," Bruce shot back with a defeating glare. "The Justice League goes against Titans compared to what we put down here in Gotham." Bruce rested his hands on the arms rests, his head fell slightly. "Even I, struggle with everything that goes on when it comes to dealing with them."
Whatever fire Dick had in pushing this conversation just simmered to smoke at what he just heard his former mentor say. It was unbelievable and Bruce had willingly admitted to it.
If Dick's eyes could grow any wider he didn't know, but that was hardly a concern now for the former boy wonder.
Bruce wasn't sure why he was so willing today to admit to his son that his membership with the Justice League was a struggle. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact he just had another, what he called now a 'waking terror,' he certainly didn't want to put up with a pointless augment at the moment.
Besides, admitting it was difficult for him was the best way to get the kid of his shoulders for now about joining the Justice League.
Dick was speechless, but he had say something. "So you don't want any of us there because-"
"I'm willing to put my life on the line to do what I have to, but it has to be mine. No one else's." Bruce stared Dick square in the eye. Tired or not, Bruce knew what he was speaking was the absolute truth.
"Not you or anyone else, Dick."
Bruce's eyes were strongly focused on the young hero as if peering through Dick's very soul. This wasn't to intimated as Dick stared back at him. This wasn't Batman being Batman, it was something else.
It was a pleading warning, a fear that Bruce didn't want to see come to fruition. This was Bruce Wayne being a father.
The young man was shocked but even still, would not willing give his old man the satisfaction of knowing he had won. "You know, Barbra is not going to be too happy about not joining the League like her friend Kara did."
"She'll get over it." the dark nature of the bat returned in Bruce's facial expression as he went back to work on the computer.
A grin came on Dick's face as he stood up from Bruce's desk tucking his hands in his jacket pockets before walking to the office doors. Reaching for the doorknob he glanced back at his father still sitting at his desk, deep into his work.
Dick couldn't help himself, he would tell anyone to blame it on the old man for what he was about to do.
"Besides, I already turned the big blue guy down the first time. I don't think my answer would chance if he asked a second time."
The look on Bruce's surprised face was priceless and before it could be ruined by the glaring and angry look directed at him, Dick closed the door leaving his father alone in his office.
Bruce felt his right eye twitch as his face looked beyond annoyed.
Clark, you pea brain sized idiot.
Three hours passed after Dick's unannounced visit and still Bruce had not managed to settle his rattled mind. Not only was he ticked off by Clark inviting his oldest son to the League behind his back, but dozens of problems that were not his own, were waiting on the Dark Knight's shoulder. Gotham and her streets had been litter with crime since Darkseid's attack. Cases after cases in the later files of the disk required Bruce's immediate intervention, not to mention the increasing demand of his role in the Justice League at manning the entire world.
To Bruce's first concerns, Gotham needed him the most.
Gang wars were out of control, Two-Face once again was on the streets, Ivy believed to be dead was rumored to be back in town, and the Joker was doing what Joker does, plot and kill to get at the Batman.
The city was running red with too much blood from his absence, which most could have been prevented. There was also Tim who needed Bruce to be around the manor and patrol lately. Even if he wasn't much of a father, the boy needed him. All were troubling to Bruce, yet his list of problems didn't stop there.
The issue he could not help but have his thoughts lingering around at; easily topped off the never ending list of problems the world needed Bruce to solve. And it came too close of a personal problem that his heart demanded intervention from him.
She needed him to.
Bruce banished the thoughts that crept up at him. He refused to think about such things that had such dangerous consequences to them.
By the time Bruce managed to drive away his dangerous thinking, his head ached too much to continue with the catch up concerning the Gotham streets. He dared not to not even mention to himself the other problems that were unsettled him. As much as he hated to admit it, the mind of the Batman needed a break, that much he was certain of as he rose to his feet.
The data on the computer wasn't sticking in his already too occupied mind anyway. He took to pacing in his office pondering one last time on each and every one of his pending problems before looking at the time.
1:25 pm, just after lunch.
He remembered; Bruce Wayne had a meeting today with some early billionaire hotshot from out of town. The man wanted to see Bruce Wayne personally about a possible future company cooperation while on his way to Metropolis.
What company did he own? What was his name again?
Bruce could boast wildly at being able to descriptor large amount of data without trouble and no one would say a word in defiance. Yet today, it was simply too much and the waking terror pains were not helping.
The air was stuffy as Bruce looked around his wood stained bland office. Organized and tidy much like its owner, but not today. Bruce felt his head was going overload trying to fix all of this at once.
He needed time, time to himself.
Time to relax for a change and regain his self-control.
Grabbing the overcoat from the corner coat-rack, Bruce darted out of his office. Rushing past his secretary Sarah quickly as he said, "Sarah, cancel all my meetings for today. I am going out to get some fresh air."
"But Mr. Wayne," Sarah sat up from her desk. "Your appointment is on his way right-"
"Not now," Bruce snapped. He disappeared behind the elevator doors not bothering with anything else.
The environment of Wayne Tower offered nothing more then his office did, so the billionaire took to the streets. His overcoat caught by a strong wind blew wildly as traveled down the sidewalk desperately wanting to get his mind off the awaiting problems.
And for once he wanted to completely forget about Batman.
There were people everywhere on the streets and to make matters worse, all of them knew he was Bruce Wayne. Not the time to entertain the idea of being the airhead they all though he was. In fact, playing that role right now brought on a massive pain in Bruce's already pounding head to not mention that his side was still soring.
They greeted him and he returned in kind knowing some just wanted to say hello to Gotham's elite.
But he wanted to be alone. To travel back to the manor would take too long and with the cave waiting below was very unappealing at the moment.
Where was there that a famous face could go to get some privacy? Bruce thought to himself.
It took a while after evading nearly every soul that crossed him, but eventually Bruce found a place where he could simply be alone with his thoughts. He popped past a corner and buried himself in his coat wanting to evade the eyes of anyone else that may be around.
Gotham City Park; one of few that the city actually had and maintained very well. Bruce couldn't be more thankful to this place as he entered, it was a very large park and was well known for the privacy it had to offer anyone. In the past Bruce never ventured often around these parts, too many families and too many happy people around made him sick to his stomach.
That aspect seemed more bearable at the moment than facing the life Bruce wanted to escape for awhile.
Traveling deep in the park until the noise of the city itself was drowned out by the quiet bliss of nature Bruce exhaled deeply at his success. It was calming as he walked slowly down the paved path, hands cozily tucked away with the day now free of his obligations. His mind drifted into focusing on the beauty of the trees that hid the city, noting for the first time in a long time, just how simple the green plant life could make him feel.
If only Ivy could see the Batman now, Bruce though to himself. Then cursed at himself for remembering that Ivy was one of his pending problems.
He wanted time away for a moment to relax.
Already the day had turned out long and strenuous and a nearby park bench seemed inviting to Bruce as he approached. He peered around satisfied that no one was around for a ways and with the city completely concealed by the distance of the park view, Bruce cozily seated himself. Allowing nature to work its magic as he tried releasing of his mind from life's trouble.
A feat even for the calming surroundings of nature was easier said then done against a mind like Bruce's, whose inner brain workings never ceased in moving. He knew a peace of mind was hard in obtaining for anyone, especially when it came to his.
Problems after problems were knocking at his doorstep for attention.
Not wanting to face the pits of his life just yet, Bruce closed his eyes and gently rubbed both of them wanting, if it was at all possible a moment to relax.
Problems and deeds of every kind from Gotham, to the far reaches of the world, always needing Batman's constant attention. Not that he couldn't handle it, but carrying the two burdens was hard for any one man to carry on his own. If people knew half the knowledge that flowed easily in Bruce's mind about the universe, then the human race would never bear another smile in seeing the world's dim future.
The future......
Bruce didn't like thinking about it and made every effort trying not to, but recent events had forced the Dark Knight to reconsider what lies ahead. His focused eyes on the scenic view in front were lost to the thoughts running in Bruce's mind. No one was suppose to know their own future as Lateran said that it complicates things. John knew he had a son with his heated ex-girlfriend Shayera and that little piece of knowledge had already effected his life in more ways then one.
Bruce had a well mind set in handling knowledge that he should not know. And he made it clear to himself that such knowledge would not effect him in any shape or form.
Yet......
His mind toyed with it as the Dark Knight recalled what he or himself had told him.
Gotham was littered with historical buildings and who knows what else this Chronos had brought here from the past and future. Bruce decided to brood over the edge of the building rooftop waiting. Sooner or later, one of them would come and he would find a way to Chronos and stop all of this from happening.
To stop the pollution of the time line and restore things back to equilibrium.
If not just that but to restore Diana back into existence.
Diana.....
He watched her disappear. Watching her lovely figure and wonderful voice fade away hit Bruce like a train. Diana didn't even realize it as her very mind faded into nonexistence as Bruce desperately reached for her. His heart twisted and turned uncontrollably seeing her disappear; it was nothing short of murder from Chronos's actions throughout time had killed the Amazon Princess.
This mission to the Dark Knight just got a whole lot more personal.
He waited alone until a familiar voice entered into Bruce's ears.
"What do you want?" Bruce said snappily.
"It hurt watching her disappear didn't it? Like she never existed."
Bruce felt the wind catch his black cape as he kneeled closer to the edge. "When the time line is properly restored, Diana will be fine. You know that as well as I do."
"Maybe," he replied flatly. "But that still doesn't chance the fact that we just watched her practically die before our very eyes. Hurts like hell doesn't it?"
Bruce's eyes narrowed behind his cowl. Evil thoughts flooded his mind at what he was going to do to Chronos when he got a hold of him. But that didn't stop Bruce from thinking that there was a double meaning to the man's words.
"That's what I thought." the man in the com-link said. "Diana was really something."
"If there is a point to any of this, I suggest you make it quick," Bruce said sharply. As much as Bruce wanted to agree, he didn't want to think about her right now. The masked hero had control but even that was easily matched by the anger he was feeling right now.
Even when all of this is through, Bruce feared, Diana might or might not ever be restored. Time travel and its effects were filled with uncertainties. It was frightening to think that she would not return.
There was a pause before he spoke again, "She really did care for you Bruce, a lot. And we-I never gave the idea of her becoming something something in my life a real chance." the sound of regret was unmistakably noticeable in the man's voice. "It is one regret I wish everyday that I didn't have to live with."
"Your point?" Bruce wasn't moved. He had lists of regrets he lived with; what was one more? Diana didn't need to be part of his nightmare of a life. "Why are you even talking about this? Us talking brings the risk of damaging the already disrupted time-stream further. We don't take risks like that."
"Does it matter? Time is already broken and fading away in the very sky above, why not talk about the one thing that we have refused to even think about?"
"I don't need anymore distractions and you're not making this any easier." Bruce readied to shut the com-link off. He had no right to continue this.
"Bruce, Damn it. listen to me!" he shouted stopping Bruce from moving.
"She doesn't need any of this. Diana is new to this whole interaction with men, remember? She doesn't know what she wants," Bruce argued. "Not to mention the reasons I gave her. My enemies would be relentless in trying to harm her. She doesn't have the resolve for the kind of things we go through. I'd kill who she is."
Another pause from the other side. Bruce could hear his talking companion shifting around. "That fear would hardly matter in the next few years."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
The man scuffed. "I thought you didn't want to risk the damage," he paused drawing back the painful memory. "Diana is going to die within this decade, Bruce. And along with her, so will a good portion of the League."
Bruce's face cringed in shock and he felt the need to back away from the ledge at this piece of information. His legs felt lifeless and threatened to fail him. Then his body went numb.
He didn't need to hear that as his mind began frightfully wondering, "How?"
He made a quick huff knowing what they were doing, but honestly he couldn't care less. His life was filled with too much death and too much grief to not want to take a chance at it. "I should have been able to see it coming. The attack and the Watchtower." his throat was feeling very dry.
"On that day," he hesitated in saying the very gruelingly painful memory to him. Which he had no less caused. "she had confessed her love for us on that day and I rejected her. I feed her more reasons to the dangers of being involved with someone like me. When she teleported back to the Watchtower from the manor, that was the last I time I saw her." he paused again. "She died up there, Bruce. I was never the same after that and neither was the world."
Bruce's head felt heavy as he lowered it, closing his eyes at the image of Diana, leaving brokenhearted to her death.
"It would be saying the least that we'll live through it," he said weakly. "But that day alone will destroy us and whatever Diana had found in us. We will never reach out to another living soul again from that day forward."
Bruce thought for a moment. He looked at the Gotham of the future and had to confess he didn't like how lifeless it looked. Nothing but plain towers and highways that buried away the richness in culture that the city once held. More than likely mirroring what he felt now inside in this time.
Bruce knew a long time ago that he would live a very lonely life and accepted that fact. Being Batman was not a life for anyone to share. But even that came into question on more then one occasion.
Dick was the first, then Barbra, and Tim. He worked with them and they became his-- for the lack of better words-- family. He was a solo act and that came into question even more when the Justice League was formed.
Did he really want to be alone; was working with all of these heroes and colleagues his subconscious way of having something, someone in his tormented life?
"I don't have a lot of time left. The others will be coming soon for me before we join you on the rooftop."
"What do you expect me to do?" Bruce asked, wanting him to tell how to stop that event from happening. If only to have permission to try something.
"Honestly," he said. "Nothing. What you choose to do with this information is entirely up to you to do with as you please. I don't care, I lived through it already. Just thought I'd give you the chance to....do something about it."
Leave it to Bruce he thought to make this no less easy for himself.
Still Bruce thought hard about it. But reason and his idea for the better good for everyone would win in the end.
"We can't. I can't. We have no right to change what has to be."
"If that is what you need to tell yourself when you can't sleep at night knowing you could have saved her but didn't."
Bruce's face turned bitter. "I always did hate myself."
"Feeling's mutual."
The conversation was over after a few more exchanges of words between the remembered every word like it was a cancer. He wanted to forget but refused to. Something had to be done if not only to save Diana, but also the others in his life as well. Diana suggested doing something while fading away to who knows where.
Although the Amazon Princess didn't know a thing about how time worked like Bruce did, he nonetheless though about her words to undo the deaths of their friends. His tired face and eyes from all the thinking going on, looked up at the blue sky; did he have the right to do such a thing?
To change what was suppose to happen? Would it risk destroying time itself again and plunge the sky and Earth into nothingness?
It was simply too much for Bruce to play fate and rewrite the road ahead of him.
Leaning back on the bench and contemplating if he should or should not act on the things he knew, Bruce waited, hoping an answer would fall into his lap. But with these kind of things, they never do.
He sighed trying to relax again.
Then....
A pain which Bruce could only guess was something of a heart attack, struck at his body. First his chest tightened and then his body went numb. He groaned lightly at first, then the pain became increasingly difficult to endure.
His eyes tightly closed before bending over, barely able to draw a breath. Before long, Bruce found himself collapsed on his hands and knees gasping for air. He was in perfect health if what all the recent tests showed. Nothing out of the ordinary that was a cause for concern, least of all a cause for a heart attack.
It hurt, why? What was going on?
He was uncertain of anything that was happening to him nor if he was dying or not. Images flashed through his mind revolving around his past, the present, and future. Each one more personal and heart stabbing then the next, leading from the very beginning of Bruce's tragic life to what he knew of his future.
His future in particular, Bruce chose to mentally block out with every effort. Whatever it was, he didn't want the sight of the future hindering him from fixing what was wrong with him now.
It proved especially hard to keep images at bay, and as a reward, something more terrible entered into Bruce's mind. Something frightening to him and was a something throughout this entire ordeal kept himself from thinking about. The difficulty in resisting the images was nearly enough to make the hero scream.
Under what control Bruce had left, only forced groans were his response.
The Dark Knight would not yield, even if it cost him his life or sanity.
When the pain and images finally dissipated and allowed Bruce to breath normally again, he drew several quick breathes to recover. The effort to maintain himself proved draining enough for Bruce's body in desiring sleep. He swore inwardly at himself knowing full well what any kind of sleeping would bring.
Dropping groggily onto the bench once more, the pain subside to a easily tolerable annoyance. Bruce groaned and hating himself even more at the last few images that went through his head. It was the very reason he lived the way he did to avoid such situations that his mind subjected him to. Having the fear of another, their suffering effect his judgment.
All of it brought on by simply knowing him.
Her tears, her pain, that foreseen last day of her life.
All of her brought to an end by his account and his unwilled doing.
Bruce's shoulders moved noticeable up and down by his erratically made breathing. His mind confused and in chaos to what was happening. Turning to his teachings of control for guidance, Bruce eased his mind and body into a meditative state that he ever so often practiced. Control was what was needed to regain perceptive and deal with this issue.
Control over himself.
Within moments, his pulse slowed, breathing eased, and his mind no longer threatened by powerfully haunted images. The techniques that Bruce mustered had surprisingly worked this time and he used them without feeling the slightest of resistance.
Both mind and body was in a calming state, and to Bruce's resurfacing annoyance, his senses told him that someone was nearing. His eyes still tightly closed to the mediation snapped open at the unwelcome presence of another being standing just to the side.
He just stood there with his hands in his pants pockets looking right at Bruce.
"Yes?" Bruce asked without enthusiasm. If he acted cold, maybe his visitor would go away. "Can I help you?"
The young man smiled. "Just looking for someone to talk to. Mind if I sit here?"
Actually Bruce did mind, in fact he minded a lot. He wanted to be alone. However, by some sort of misgiving, Bruce nodded and the man sat on the other side of the bench. Taking in a deep breath before relaxing.
"So, old man, what are you planning on doing for the rest of day?" Dick asked.
Johnathan Crane, commonly known as the Scarecrow of Gotham City sat tiredly in his cell, once he was again in Arkham Asylum. Another ploy laid wasted to the likes of Batman and his little pets. It wasn't unexpected but the Batman had scared Crane nearly out of his mind as he was dangled over the rooftops. He almost thought that the bat was actually going to kill him and almost did if not saving him at the last few seconds from hitting the ground.
It was that little fact that Batman had gotten to him, the man who is made of fear and the other simple fact that Crane was back in Arkham that riled Crane so. Scarecrow's co-conspirator had failed on his the part of the deal in rescuing him before brought back to this miserable place.
A failing Crane should have seen coming. Now he was back in his cell with its reinforced glass entrance and patted walls of gray as his mental recuperating grounds.
How Crane hated this place.
He was still in his mask and costume, partly as the doctors believed it would help Dr. Crane in his treatment to recovery and the fact that no one wanted to see what laid underneath. There were remorse that he was no longer human. A fear Crane used ever so often in his escapes from here. He could escape but his solid white eyes stared forward at nothing while he waited silently in the cell.
Then it came. Crane felt the presence of his partner in crime creep into his confinement room.
He slightly sat up straight. "You might as well show yourself, I could smell the fear surrounding you a mile away."
The patted wall adjacent to the glass was dark, covered in what seemed to the normal eye to be nothing more than shadow. It moved unnaturally against the light of room, growing darker, until two solid monstrous red eyes formed and stared at Scarecrow.
Unafraid, Crane slowly looked over at his wall as if the thing on it was a normal occurrence.
"You were suppose to ambush the convoy before they brought me to Arkham! That was the deal," Crane said irritated. "You don't know how much I hate this place."
The eyes glared and the shadows on the wall boiled with aggravation. "And you were suppose to expose this Batman to the toxin completely not just brush it against his cape."
Crane sigh at his disgrace and looked away. "I did all that was according to plan, however there were complications. Anything that involves the Batman always has complications."
The thing waited for a moment before speaking again. "In any case, he is exposed to me now. It will take a while because of your mistake for me to grasp all of his mind. But just scratching the surface of it has proven refreshing."
The thing recalled the events of today and despite the setbacks, had rather enjoyed the squabbling between its new prey.
"Glad you enjoy being in the mind of that freak. Now what about our arrangements? I more or less gave you what you wanted. You promised to reveal the secrets of fear itself to me. Now you have what you want. Now give what I want!" Scarecrow demanded.
The eyes opened widely as if pleased before returned to its dark glare. "Yes, you gave me what I wanted. The chance to enter into the mind of your city's Batman. I suppose for the effort, your reward is in order."
"Yes, and I want it now!"
"Then approach mortal and I will give you all the secrets that fear has to offer you."
Scarecrow was skeptic but nonetheless rose from the side of his bed and approached. Noting that the boils and movements of the shadows appeared to move faster and more aggressive as he stood before the eyes.
Scarecrow however stood unafraid.
He wanted to know everything about fear; what it meant, what it could do, and what power it could bring to him.
Stopping just a foot away from the creature that consumed his cell wall, Crane stood proudly waiting for the knowledge he had craved for as long as he could remember.
The red eyes narrowed even further. "The power of fear is a great gift to give to those who are willing to experience it. Fear is something that we all need."
"Yes," Crane agreed. "Now you will-ahhh!" Crane screamed as shadow like arms reached out from the wall and stabbed into the sides of his head.
Instantly all comprehension of self-awareness of the Scarecrow ceased. Thought and movements were no longer accessible to the villain other then his ability to scream in pain. It was loud screams at first to the invasion of his mind and body, but slowly died down to a continuous monotone moan.
The eyes stared into Crane's face.
Only the sensation of what the thing was feeding into his mind was all Crane could comprehend. Then other limbs emerged from the wall and stabbed into Crane's body. He grunted but had no sense of perspective of what was happening to him. His mind was lost to this creature.
"Yes, fear binds you Dr. Crane. It fascinates you and in your madness to manipulated it on others you forgot how to control your own."
The thing watched and listened to the screaming gasps that Crane's body made. A unholy mouth formed underneath the eyes to give his last words with a uneven smile.
"This is the secret that I pass to you of fear; fear is that which fuels the things that haunts your dreams. Fear is what stalks you at night, arousing the terrors in your bed. And in the darkness of the night, fear gives birth to that which gives me life in mankind's worst hours...." He waited, Crane's mind was crumbling.
"Fear is the beginning of all of your NIGHTMARES!"
Nightmare released Crane who fell like dead weight. When his almost lifeless body hit the ground, free of the shadow limbs that stabbed in his body, Crane screamed. First it was sharp and short. Then the screams grew longer and louder.
Crane screamed and screamed until every second of the air in his cell was filled with screams. He couldn't see the world, it was blurred out by what his mind was enduring. Not a passing moment fled for the Scarecrow without unbearable and unyielding agony.
The halls of Arkham filled with the terrified screams as the creature having finished, stared at the remaining form that was the Scarecrow a moment longer before disappearing.
His mind was filled with horrors Batman, beyond many that normal humans carry. I can only image what more nightmarish things lurk in your tortured soul. Well, we will soon find out then wont we, Bruce?
One may smile, and smile, and be a villain. -William Shakespeare