5. Running
1:37 AM.
Jonathan Crane had no more waiting left to do.
The gas reached Harley Quinn's cell first. Her shouting and crying caught the attention of the guards, who never were too bright. One of the guards entered the cell when Harley didn't respond to him. And, in a few seconds, he was on the ground, wailing, and scratching at his own skin.
The Ventriloquist went next - or was it Killer Moth? Their yelps and calls for help both deafened the room at around the same time. And, after them, the fear toxin leaked from the air vents into the main hallways. The guards figured out what the problem was, then. But, far too late.
1:43 AM.
Only three people in the cell blocks of Arkham remained unaffected by their worst fears. Poison Ivy, who was immune to the plant-based chemicals in the toxin... The Scarecrow, who was either immune to the chemicals he'd worked with for so long or was simply unable to experience the emotion he so obsessed over... And The Riddler, whose cell shared a vent with Scarecrow's, and, luckily for him, Scarecrow hadn't wanted to waste a dosage of fear toxin just to poison his own vent.
The Riddler had woken up grumpily, thanks to the screaming of the inmates and guards. But, as his grogginess wore off and he realized what was happening, he was filled with a mixture of excitement and a bit of fear, himself. He expected his own worst nightmares to hit at any moment, after all...
It was Ivy's voice that made Edward first think that he had somehow successfully escaped the effects of the toxin. She shouted - for she really had to shout in order to be heard amongst the screams and sobs - out, "Air vents? How creative! Joker's already done that before!"
Jonathan Crane answered nastily, "It worked then! And, if Arkham is stupid enough to let that happen and not improve its security, then I've no reason not to profit from it!"
Edward grimaced. He'd never actually heard Crane use a tone that scathing with anyone other than the Bat. But, then again, Edward didn't know of anyone who actually liked Poison Ivy. Other than Harley, of course. And, it surely didn't make Jonathan happy that Ivy was immune to his toxin...
Ivy answered - her tone just as loathsome, "You're not profiting from anything. In case you've forgotten, Straw-killer, you're in a straitjacket, in a locked cell, with no way out except maybe to crash through a glass wall - which you and I both know, you don't have the strength to do!"
Straw-killer? Edward supposed that her hatred for the Scarecrow made sense... Or at least as much sense as anything Ivy did could make. The Riddler shook his head, wondering if they even knew that he was awake, too. Why, it must've been his amazing wits that escaped the toxin - yes, that must have been it! He loudly tapped on the wall to announce his presence to Crane.
The Master of Fear answered the tap instantly, his voice layered with annoyance, but at least that spiteful tone he had when addressing Ivy was gone, "What is it, Edward?"
Alright, so, apparently he was supposed to be awake. "Oh, nothing. Just checking." He looked around his cell, gathering his thoughts again. "But, riddle me this... Exactly how do you plan to get out?"
The professional voice of Dr. Jonathan Crane answered, emotionless as usual, "Easily. Five weeks in a room by oneself gives one ample time to practice escaping a straitjacket." There was a bit of noise from the other side of the wall as Crane stood up, and, presumably, slipped his way out of the jacket.
For a moment, Edward was going to be impressed, but then it occured to him that Arkham had probably never had a prisoner quite as underweight as the Scarecrow... And it really wouldn't be a surprise if the straightjacket was too big for him, anyway. Ha, you can't fool me, Jonathan Crane. You're no smarter, no more resourceful than Edward Nigma! "Well, well, well, well, well... Riddle me this, Doctor: you're out of the jacket; now can you escape your cell?"
"If there is one thing I have learned from the curs-ed Bat, Edward... It is how to properly utilize the ventilation system."
"I know that, of course. I've escaped that way before! But, they changed the bolts on the vents! They're impossible to open."
"Not the ones in solitary confinement..."
"But, we're not in solitary confinement!," Edward insisted, as if Jonathan were missing something very obvious.
1:50 AM.
Edward ducked for cover as he heard the signature sound of one of The Joker's gag-bombs. The insane sounds of laughter that came before the explosion did give those things away. And, just as The Riddler managed to hide under the bed, the vent on his wall blew apart, parts of the concrete falling apart with it.
"It would appall most serious criminals with how un-thoroughly The Joker cleans up his past operations."
"I guess so," answered The Riddler, easing out from his shelter to look at the place the vent had been. Half of the vent was still there, but it moved out of the way easily when Edward touched it.
"Au revoir," the Scarecrow said, entering the ventilation system from the opening in his cell.
Edward caught a flash of orange as Jonathan hurried through the vent - just as quickly as if it were nothing but a small hallway. Edward looked around the cell one more time... Everyone was still in his or her own personal nightmare... The Riddler ran over to gather up the three detective novels he hadn't begun reading yet then rushed back over, throwing the books into the vent first. "Wait! I'm coming with you!"
Jonathan Crane didn't make any agreement to that... But, he didn't protest, either. So, Edward crawled into the vent, dragging his books with him. Jonathan was well out of sight, but Edward's ears, genius ears - yes, even his ears were genius - followed the sound of movement. He crawled through the small passageways quickly; the Scarecrow was moving quicker, but, then again, he wasn't lugging around books.
Edward saw the remnants of a bomb-gag and a grate that was missing. The noise of Scarecrow's movement had ceased, so Edward assumed that they had reached their exit. He slid out, landing with a thud on the ground. Two of his books followed him, one hitting him in the stomach, the other landing directly on his face. He groaned, sitting up and scanning his surroundings. The storage locker-room! He hopped to his feet, Oh, thank the lord! Finally, he'd be rid of that hideous orange jumpsuit! He heard footsteps running across the back of the room and called out, "Have you found my things yet?"
The Scarecrow gave absolutely no response. Of course.
The Riddler walked toward the footsteps but stopped when a flash of bright green caught his eye. He turned... Question marks! Oh, yes! He ran to the place his suit was hanging, taking the jacket, shirt, tie, and pants. Then he kicked off those ugly sneakers he was forced to wear in prison and slid into his black loafers. He'd change into the rest later. He picked up his trick-cane and put that with the pile of clothes he was carrying. Oh! And his books! He couldn't forget about the books! He ran back to where the vent let out and tried to reach down and pick up the books without dropping his Riddler-gear... That feat was much more easily said than done. He lost his balance and fell, dropping everything.
A moment later, the fully-costumed Scarecrow was standing over him. "Hurry up."
Edward sat up, scowling. "Thanks for the sympathy. Riddle me this: who is the most impatient man in all of Goth-..."
"The toxin will wear off!"
"Fine!" The Riddler gathered his things, trying to be quick, but then he noticed something: "I've only got two books! The third must still be in the vent!"
"There is no time. We must go!"
"But, my book," Edward whined, reluctantly following the Scarecrow to the door. "Wait," he said as Crane's hand went for the doorhandle. "If that toxin's still out there, I'll... I won't be able to leave!"
"I was counting on that..." Edward glared. The Scarecrow sighed, taking off his mask and handing it to The Riddler. "Fine. Do hurry, Edward."
"My hands are full!"
Scarecrow hissed, throwing the mask over Edward's head himself. "You are a nuisance."
Not insulted in the slightest, Edward smiled behind the mask of the Scarecrow. "Alright, you can open the door, now!"
The two ran through the halls of Arkham - well, Scarecrow ran. Edward was having issues keeping all of his belongings in his hands... Plus, he wasn't used to looking through the eyes of the Scarecrow mask.
But, with Jonathan Crane's running, and Edward's half-jogging-and-occasional-tripping, they managed to make it through the front doors of Arkham.
"Now what?," Edward asked, looking across the stretch of land that lay between the asylum and its true exit. To get to the gate they still had to pass through Arkham's lawn, which had its fair share of un-toxified guards.
Jonathan snatched his mask off Edward's head, replacing it on his own. "You're always bragging about your genius brain. You think of something."
"I will! Take my cane." The Scarecrow picked The Riddler's trick-cane up. "Press the button on the back."
"Which one?"
"What does it matter? They all do something! Just pick one! We can fight off the guards!"
"We?" Scarecrow glanced at Edward, whose arms were far too full of his various belongings to do any sort of fighting.
"Okay, fine, Mr. Let's-not-look-at-the-bright-side-of-anything. Press the button at the very bottom of the cane. That will call my car. Then we can just fight off the guards until it gets here!"
Scarecrow breathed deeply. "Ding, dong, bell..."
"Let me guess: next time you'll 'leave me in my cell'. What about that, Jonny? I can predict things, too! Why? Because your mind is ridiculously simple!"
Jonathan Crane ignored the comment - mostly because he knew very well that Edward was trying to make him angry. But, if they began to fight, guards would take notice. And, they didn't have time for that. They hardly had any time at all. So, instead, he just pressed the button Edward had suggested, then ducked into some bushes, heading stealthily toward the gate.
"Wait for me!," Edward cried.
"Shhhh!"
"Don't tell me to 'Shhhh!' You weren't waiting!"
"Where is it that we go after your car arrives?"
"Well, there's an old warehouse on Eighth street... I've got a beach house in Malibu..." Jonathan gave him a withering look - or, at least, Edward was pretty sure it was a withering look. He couldn't quite tell: the Scarecrow mask blocked it. "I'm getting the feeling that you don't want to go to California?"
A guard heard The Riddler's voice and turned around. "Who's there?" Edward silenced, stilling his movements.
"Your own shadow..."
The guard's eyes traversed the area. "What? Who said that?"
"What do you mean, Henry? It's me..."
"Who are you?"
"Your mind."
A terrified look crossed the guards face. "No... not again... not now..."
"What's wrong, Henry?"
The guard turned around, half-running, half-walking over to his nearest peer. He said something that sounded like, "I'm going on break," then made a 'casual' exit.
Edward stared at his escape partner. "...That... you..." He shook his head. "You're not going to tell me, anyway, so I won't bother asking."
"That would be for the best."
The sound of a helicopter drawing near made both runaways look up. Edward smiled. "Here comes our ride, now!"
"That does not look like a car..."
"Okay, you know what? I'm gonna give you some advice. One: take off the mask when you're not doing your scary-act. Talk normally. Otherwise, that creepy voice is going to become your usual voice, and it's going to lose effectiveness. Two: shut up. End of advice. Now, let's go!" Edward left the cover of the bushes to wait for his helicopter to land.
Scarecrow followed, still wielding the question-mark-cane.
The noise of the helicopter's blades sent shouts through the guards patrolling the area, and they all ran toward the place it was landing. "They're inmates! Trying to escape! Come on: someone stop 'em!"
Edward hopped up and down, panicking. "Open, door!" The helicopter's controls were apparently voice-activated, as the door on the side of the huge machine slid open. Edward threw his books into the chopper, which was getting very close to landing. The whirlwind from the aircraft's blades kept a few of the guards at bay, but the others couldn't be stopped. "Ladder!" A ladder fell from the helicopter, and Edward grabbed on, climbing up into the craft.
Scarecrow pressed a button on the cane, trying to figure out how to repel the guards. He pressed another. And another. Nothing was happening. So, he gave up on button-mashing and instead equipped the cane like a staff, striking out at the nearest guard.
The Riddler shut off the auto-pilot, switching to manual controls. He looked down, out the window, as the helicopter raised itself up, farther and farther from Arkham's grounds. Normally, he wouldn't have any problem leaving anyone he was working with. But, to be honest, that guilt-trip he'd gotten from sending Jonathan to solitary was still fresh in his memory. And - more importantly - Scarecrow still had his cane! He simply couldn't leave his cane behind!
Jonathan Crane hit the closest guard in the stomach with a blow from the cane, then, giving up the fight, he turned and bolted toward the ladder, grabbing onto it just before it could slip beyond his reach. He took a deep breath, throwing the cane up, into the helicopter, then starting up the ladder.
A gunshot echoed from below. Now that was certainly not protocol. Tranquilizers were one thing but guns...? A second gunshot. Scarecrow continued to climb as quickly as he could; the second gunshot barely missed him. But, as the saying goes... The third time's the charm. The Scarecrow flinched for a moment before pulling himself into the safety of the chopper and lying still on the floor.
Edward switched the controls on the aircraft back to automatic and shut the door, blocking any more bullets. He looked down at his former inmate. "You know, I've never actually flown a helicopter before."
Jonathan stood up, removing his mask. "I'll do it, then."
Edward mistook the pained expression on the other man's face for a look of disgust. "What? I'm sure I could figure it out! Do you have a license to fly one of these things?"
"Naturally not. But, I have flown one before."
The Riddler watched his new partner-in-crime limp over to the controls seat. He wondered just how long it would take the Scarecrow to admit that he'd been shot. My guess? Pretty long! "So, where are we going, now, Jonny?"
"Don't call me that."
"Well, it's just that I feel like I sort of know you now. 'Crane' sounds so... distant. Certainly not something I'd call my friend..."
"We... are not friends, Edward. You would do well to remember that."
"Yeah, yeah, okay. But, I'm at least calling you 'Jonathan'."
"You'll call me 'Scarecrow'. That is my name."
"Whatever you say, Jonathan."
Scarecrow hissed, partially from the pain in his left hip, and partially from the living annoyance that was seated next to him. But, he only continued to fly the helicopter, making no further remark.
"So, Jonathan, where are we going?" He only grinned at the answering silence. "Alright, don't tell me, then. I like surprises." He thought for a moment. "I'm going to change into my suit. So, just, uh..." He gestured toward the windshield. "Keep your eyes on the..." Road? "...air, I guess. Don't crash us."
The Riddler disappeared for a few minutes. A few sweet, sweet, quiet minutes... And, then he was back.
"Still in the air, Jonathan?" Edward was determined to provoke his companion. He wasn't sure why. But, it was just plain fun to annoy the Doctor. Especially since Jonathan Crane rarely ever acted annoyed. "Where are we going?" Nothing. "Alright... Riddle me this..." He waited for a reaction. Nope. "Okay, me being the respectful man I am, I understand that your brain cannot compare to my own... Thusly, I shall skip the riddle that I know will leave you stumped..." The Riddler didn't actually have a riddle to ask, of course. But, he did have a point to make: "...I'm hungry."
No reaction.
Edward narrowed his eyes. "Alright, you know that repeating thing you do? When you're trying to scare someone? Well, I can do that, too! I'm hungry! I'm hungry! I'm hungry! I'm hungry! I'm hungry! I'm hungry~! I'm hungry~! I'm hungry~! I'm hungry~!" The only difference between Scarecrow's repetition and Edward's repetition... Was that Scarecrow did achieve his purpose of sounding creepy. Edward, however, didn't do that at all. But, arguably, he did achieve his own purpose...
"Alright, Edward. As soon as we land, we'll steal a car and go through a drive-through somewhere."
"And then what?"
"I'm going to find an old hideout of mine."
Edward happily quieted himself. As long as he knew the plan, he was fine. He went to the back of the chopper then returned with one of his mystery novels. He opened it to the last few pages. "And, by the way, you owe me a new book."