Part Two: The Light Beyond Their Sight

11. Air

"How do I look, Jonathan?"

"Like The Riddler in a mustache. Take off the mask, Edward."

"But, I look so ordinary without my mask!"

"That's the point. We're trying not to be recognized."

"Fine! But, I'm not taking off my hat!"

"Yes, you are. And, the jacket. Ordinary Gotham citizens don't go parading around in green suits."

The Riddler looked scandalized. "You're evil, Scarecrow!"

"Yes. I know. The tie's got to go, as well."

"My tie? But, I'll look absolutely barbaric without it!"

"It has a question mark on it, Edward. How much more obvious can it get?"

"Remember about twenty minutes ago when I stopped hating you? Yeah, that's over. It was a nice twenty minutes."

"You're the one who thinks we should leave Gotham. We'll never get out of Gotham if anyone recognizes us."

Edward pouted, shrugging off his suit jacket and pulling off his tie."There! Good enough for you?"

"It will have to do. But, next time wear black pants if you're planning something like this. Most businessmen don't go gallivanting about in bright green pants."

"Well, I don't see what you're planning on doing to be unrecognizable! Look at you! Everything about you screams, 'Scarecrow!' "

Jonathan pulled off his mask and gloves, throwing them into the hole in the flowerbed. He then took off his labcoat and folded it up before depositing it in the hole, too. "There. Better?"

"Mhm. Now, everything about you screams, 'Hobo!' "

Jonathan kneeled down, covering their belongings in soil. "That's fine. It's better than being the Scarecrow at the moment."

"Alright... So, here's the story: I'm actually from California, where I've lived my whole life. And, when I was thirteen, my older sister got married and moved to Gotham City. A few years later, she got pregnant and died while in labor, killing the baby, as well. Her husband was in so much grief that he just disappeared off the map. Recently, however, we got a lead on his whereabouts, and so I've traveled to Gotham to recover my long-lost brother-in-law. What do you think?"

"That sounds needlessly complicated."

"No, it's not! It's not even complicated enough. We have to go over the details, in case we're questioned. Your name is John Smith..."

"Really, Edward? John Smith?"

"Fine! John... Watson. And, I'm Stephen Holmes. Your wife's name was Shirley..."

"Shirley Holmes. You can't be serious, Edward."

"And, you obviously wanted to name your son Edward because you often accidentally address me by that name."

"None of this is necessary, Edward."

"Stephen, John. Please, call me Stephen. Don't let the shadows of your tortured past keep you from sanity and the loving family that's been searching for you all these years..." Edward took out a handkerchief, dabbing at his eyes dramatically.

"No one is even here yet! Drop the act!"

"Don't take your anger out on me, John! I miss my sister, too!"

Jonathan's lip curled. "If you don't give up that ridiculous story..."

A shout from somewhere nearby made both The Riddler and the Scarecrow grow silent: "Holy garden gnomes, Batman! I think I heard something over here!"

Edward's face paled. He glanced at Jonathan and whispered, "What do we do?"

"Follow me."

"What?"

Jonathan didn't repeat himself; instead, he jumped up and ran along the wall, his movements completely silent. Edward, not wanting to be found by Robin - and especially not Batman or Catwoman -, had no choice but to chase after the Scarecrow.

Edward struggled to keep up with Jonathan, and the struggle only increased when he half-paused to look at every shadow with suspicion. "The taxi is going to meet me in the parking lot! How are we going to get back there, Jonathan?"

"I worked here for years, Edward. Stop worrying. Just try to keep up."

They raced along the wall until they came to a secondary entrance, and Jonathan stopped. Edward almost fell over when he tried to stop; he was completely out of breath. Edward doubled over, trying his best to calm his heart rate, and Jonathan watched the road for any incoming cars. After a minute or so, a pair of headlights caught his attention.

"Edward, stand up. That's it."

Edward slowly pulled himself up and looked at the approaching car. "How could you... Never mind." He sighed. "I'll go stop it..."

Jonathan stood still while Edward ran toward the taxi. The car stopped, and the driver rolled down his window to exchange a few words with The Riddler. Then Edward waved Jonathan over and got into the car. Jonathan quickly followed. "To the Gotham City Airport, please," Edward said calmly.

"Sure thing," answered the taxi driver. He'd looked at Jonathan a bit oddly, but, other than that, he didn't seem to have any interest in his passengers. He was in Gotham City, after all. He had to deal with driving around people much stranger than Stephen Holmes and John Watson on a daily basis.

Edward watched the back window cautiously, making sure that the car wasn't being followed for the first ten minutes of the drive. When he was finally satisfied that they'd gotten away, he tried to strike up a conversation, but Jonathan didn't seem interested in speaking. So, Edward thought in silence for the entire drive - mostly about how the first thing he was going to do when they got to the airport was go to the gift shop and buy Jonathan a shirt. It was rather disgusting to look at him without one: the skin was pale and splotchy, and his bones were practically protruding out of his chest... It was certainly not a pretty sight.

When the taxi pulled up to the front of the airport, Edward handed the driver two hundred-dollar bills and got out of the car without another word. Jonathan climbed out of the car as well, looking at the airport. "I've never actually been on this sort of plane," he said.

"Really? You've flown helicopters and planes, but you've never been on a passenger flight?"

"I don't often travel outside Gotham. And, when I do, I travel in a car."

"Ah, I see... Feeling a little apprehension, Professor?"

"No. Actually, I've wanted to go on one of these flights for a while..."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"No reason..."

"..Alright... I'm going to go buy the tickets. You go look around somewhere, and try to avoid cameras."

Jonathan nodded and turned away, scanning the ceiling for security cameras. He put a hand in his pocket, checking to make sure that the vials of toxin were safe, and then he walked toward a shop inside the airport. The lady at the counter kept a wary eye on him - understandable because there was a sign that read, 'No shirt, no shoes, no service'. But, she looked young, probably just barely twenty years old, and she and Jonathan were the only ones in the shop. She seemed too afraid to say anything to him in case he was actually dangerous...

"John, I bought the tickets!," Edward announced, sweeping into the little shop. The counter-girl looked relieved. Edward Nigma looked much more civilized and much less dangerous than Jonathan Crane. "We're going to Metropolis. There's a flight from there that we can catch tomorrow at noon that will take us to some town in Iowa, where there's an almost-immediate flight to L.A. We can drive to Malibu from there. But, anyway, boarding started ten minutes ago. So, we need to get going." Edward picked up a random shirt that read, 'Gotham City,' and he took it to the cashier. "Here, we're taking this." He put a fifty-dollar bill on the counter and ushered Jonathan out of the store. "Go put this on in the bathroom or something."

"Why?" Jonathan took the shirt from Edward impatiently and pulled it on in the middle of the airport.

"You are so uncivilized."

"No, I simply don't see the point in wasting more time, Edward. Now, lead the way."

"Alright, the check is over this way," he said quickly, walking off.

"Check?"

"The security check."

"Security check?"

"Yes, Jonathan, the security check. Surely you knew about that: you haven't been living under a rock all this time..."

Jonathan's eyes traveled around the building. "Of course, I know what it is... I just didn't think about it being an issue..."

"What do you mean? I thought you left that old sickle in the flowerbed back at the school!"

"I did," he responded, reading a sign on security guidelines that was posted on the wall. His eyes traveled down the list of prohibited items... 'Firearms, explosives,'... There it was. 'Dangerous chemicals'. "...Edward, is there any way we can just drive to California?"

"Why? Afraid of radioactivity from the airport scanners?"

"I'm not 'afraid'... But, things might be more convenient for the plan if we just take a car..."

"More convenient for the plan? That would ruin the plan!," Edward answered, moving forward in line to the scanner and security officer.

Jonathan watched Edward remove a few things from his pockets, including the Scarecrow's pocketwatch, which had never been returned to Jonathan. Then Edward walked through the scanner. Jonathan cursed under his breath as the guard turned to him. The security man nodded and said gruffly, "Your turn, sir. Take out anything in your pockets."

Jonathan eyed the guard for a moment before murmuring under his breath, "If you thought that would ruin the plan..." Jonathan reached in his pocket and pulled out a single vial of fear toxin.

"Excuse me, sir, but what is that?"

"Chemicals."

"I'm sorry, but we're going to have to confiscate that flask. Any chemicals that are seen as potentially dangerous have to be removed, for the safety of our passengers..." The guard made a grab for the vial, but Jonathan moved it out of his reach.

"Who said the chemicals were dangerous, officer?"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to hand the vial over." A few of the other guards on duty had stopped movement in their own lines to watch the commotion.

"And, I'm going to have to ask you not to trifle with me, James."

The guard looked alarmed for a moment before he put a hand over his nametag. "Give me the vial."

"You never have been good with manners, have you, James? What's the magic word?"

"Give me the vial!" The other guards were surrounding Jonathan.

The Scarecrow turned his head to the side to see the others. Then he looked back at the guard James. "As you wish." He threw the vial at the ground, and it shattered instantly. The red liquid inside it exploded with a snap, and bright red gas filled the air. Jonathan ducked away from the crowd of guards and pulled out a handful of vials, tossing them over his shoulder. He ran through the scanner and grabbed Edward by the arm, pulling him toward the boarding gate as a mixture of screams, shouts, and cries traversed across the building. "There goes the plan... again. One day perhaps we can think of a plan we'll actually follow through with." Edward was silent, his expression wracked with fear; he'd been close enough to the explosion to inhale some of the toxin's fumes. "It was just five doses... You'll be fine in a few minutes, Edward. So, please, be more cooperative." Nothing Jonathan could say affected Edward's stiff body, which seemed almost paralyzed. Jonathan took out a few more doses of toxin to throw at the men who were stationed by the entrance to the plane. He then threw Edward into the aircraft and took out a handful of vials to hold up in front of the passengers who were already seated. "Scarecrow. No one moves, and no one gets hurt," he said instantly when he saw the surprised faces of the passengers. Their surprise quickly turned into fear. Jonathan kicked the stepladder that was used to board the plane far enough away so that he could close the door. He then made his way to the cockpit of the plane, still holding the toxin in his hand. When he re-appeared, it was only to drag the screaming pilot and a few other members of the plane's staff out into the passenger area. "Someone buckle them up. We don't want them being tossed around the plane."

One of the passengers, a man who was with his wife and son, stood up and shouted, "Leave us alone, Scarecrow! Batman will come save us!"

"Batman wouldn't dare do a thing as long as I'm in control of this plane. He'll be too afraid that I'll hurt someone... Now, sit down or help these poor people to their seats. Take-off is imminent."

When Edward Nigma regained his senses, he realized that he was on a plane. On his planned flight! He thought for a moment that maybe he'd just had a bad dream that his plan had gone wrong... But, Jonathan wasn't sitting next to him. And, the passengers sitting around him didn't look bored out of their minds, like people on normal flights... Actually, they looked quite anxious. He turned to the person nearest to him and asked, "Excuse me, but what's going on?"

The passenger, a woman who was hugging her young son to herself, answered, "It's the Scarecrow... He's hijacked the plane."

"Of course he has," Edward mumbled, reaching down to unbuckle himself. How long have I been out? I swear, Jonathan...

"Wait, no! You have to stay still. He said that if anyone moved, he was going to gas the whole plane! What if he lets us drop into the ocean?" She held her son even more tightly.

"Ocean?" Edward stood up and made his way to the nearest window, where, sure enough, water was easily visible below. "He's mad! Crazy! We don't have enough fuel to be over the ocean! We'll die!"

The woman sobbed, "Don't say that!"

"Oh, shut up, lady!" Edward pushed his way to the aisle. "Jonathan! Jonathan! JON-A-THAN!" He walked right into the cockpit, both hands on his hips. "What are you doing?"

"The toxin has a heavy effect on you. You've been out for an hour."

"Not what I asked. Why are we flying over the ocean?"

"Well, I wasn't going to fly to Metropolis. Then Superman would have been after us."

"You're aware that Metropolis is not thousands of miles away, right? They don't load planes up with fuel they don't need! We can only fly a few hundred miles before this big hunk of metal runs out of fuel!"

"Relax. I'm not going far. Just call one of your private helicopters or planes. I personally think you should have done that in the first place."

"My planes are very ostentatious... And, the helicopters aren't suited for long-distance travel. Why don't you have a plane?"

"I've had several, but none are programmed to come to me at the touch of a button."

"You buried my cane because it was shaped like a question mark, Jonathan! That was where that 'button' was! I don't have it!"

"You don't?"

"Where are we, Jonathan?"

"Somewhere out in the middle of the Atlantic..."

"...How much fuel do we have left?"

"Not enough to get back to Gotham. And, not enough to get to Europe."

"We're going to die."

"It's possible."

"Oh, my God... What are we going to do?"

"I told you we should have driven instead."

"But, you didn't tell me you were planning on boarding the plane with giant pockets full of illegal, dangerous chemicals! This whole thing could have been avoided if you didn't keep stupid things a secret!"

"I got us this far. You think of something."

"You got us to our deaths; that's where you got us! But, I will think of something! Is there a phone on board?"

"I don't know. You're the one who gets on these flights. Why?"

"I'm calling for help! That's why!"

"Who are you going to call?"

"Anyone! The airport! Harley! The police! Batman! I'll go back to jail before I'll let you kill me!"

"Why is everyone so afraid of death?"

"Because it's death! Turn this plane around, Jonathan!"

"Alright," he answered plainly, pulling at the controls.

Edward, shocked, rested a hand on the back of the pilot's seat. "You... Actually listened to me."

"Somewhat."

"We're going back to Gotham?"

"No. There's no way we'd make it to Gotham."

"Where are we going, then?"

"Canada."

Edward stared through the glass on the front of the plane. "...You know, I'm probably going to panic."

"As if you weren't panicking a moment ago."

"Do you promise we'll survive this?"

"Yes." Jonathan glanced at the radar on the plane. "But, my promises don't mean much."