Jonathan Crane came too slowly, gradually registering an extremely painful throbbing just above his left ear. What happened… he thought to himself, trying to remember what had gone on prior to the agony. Then he remembered.
Eddie.
The Master of Fear forced his eyes open and with strength he didn't know he had, he shoved himself off the dirty floor he was lying on. Around him in a little half-circle, several women in short blue skirts and low cut white tops stared at him.
They looked like the…waitresses? Was he still in the club?
Jonathan tried to say something, but his words came as a cough and he remembered one of the thugs kicking him in the stomach right before he'd been knocked out.
He spat and a stream of blood splattered onto the floor, dribbling a bit on the sleeve of his now ripped leather jacket. Swallowing, the Master of Fear tried again.
"Where…is he?" he rasped. His voice sounded like his throat was filled with gravel. He certainly felt like it was.
A few blank stares answered his question. A small knot of worry began to root in the pit of the Scarecrow's stomach and he shoved himself further off the floor, getting to his knees and looking around the club.
The bar was in a state of ruin, even worse than it had looked before the fight. Tables and chairs had been overturned and broken glass was everywhere. The pitiful excuse for a stage was empty, the singer obviously having fled for her life to seek easy money elsewhere. The bartender was looking nervously over the counter from his seat on the floor, as if trying to see if it was safe to come out yet.
And there was blood.
Blood on the floor and on the tables and back door. Jonathan looked down at himself. A few cuts, several bruises, but nothing that would constitute that much blood. Near Jonathan, a spot of blood stretched out into five long stripes ending at the bottom with a half-circle was smeared on the floor.
A handprint.
The knot in his stomach turned into a throbbing black hole and he stood, facing the dumfounded waitresses.
"Where is he?" he said again, nearly yelling this time. This seemed to snap the women out of their reverie and one stammered, "He…they…took him."
Jonathan's eyes widened with anger and pain. "They WHAT?"
"It's like she said!" another waitress spoke up. "They jus' beat 'em up an' took 'im. He was in real bad shape, too. Blood everywhere, an'…"
She stopped speaking as Jonathan grabbed her by the throat.
"Which way?" he growled. "Which way…did they go?"
The waitress said nothing, just pointed with a shaking finger at the door. Jonathan's hand flexed around her throat and for a brief moment he thought about just crushing it, right then and there. After all, she had watched Eddie get hurt. Watched him be dragged out and…and…
No. Killing her wouldn't solve anything. Besides, if he did he'd probably have the cops and Superman after him. They were in Metropolis, after all.
Worse, they might call Batman in.
Ending up in Arkham wouldn't help Eddie. He had to leave. If there was this much blood in here, there had to be a trail, at least for a little while. It was a start. Dropping the coughing waitress, the Scarecrow went out the door.
He only hoped he could find the Riddler before it was too late.
If it wasn't already.
a/n: well, here's the nxt chapter! Thanks for the reviews as always and I hope you continue reading!
Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, Batman, Superman, Arkham, Gotham, or Metropolis.