Hey, I'm back! College has been a exciting and exhausting endeavor, and with lots of tests and distractions, I haven't been as prudent as I usually am in updating. Thank you everyone for waiting and reviewing my stories. It really makes my day when you guys give me such good comments, so keep it up, and enjoy the story.

Edit: Sorry about the format last time. I'll try to make it better.

"Hurry, Scream! He's catching up!" Scarecrow shouted, ducking as a batarang flew past his face.

"I'm coming, Scarecrow! You know I can't run as fast as you can!" complained Becky, ducking as the batarang flew back to its owner, while dodging the Caped Crusader's attacks.

It had been three weeks since Jervis had come looking for Alice. Naturally, after his outburst, he could have been caught wandering around somewhere in Gotham by Batman and dragged back to Arkham, as that was usually the case with him, Jonathan had said. As for Alice, she could have just wanted a break from the Hatter for a little while, as his often exuberant and eccentric personality could be quite a bit to handle.

In the meantime, Jonathan had been doing more research on a new, more effective method of fear gas. He was thinking of filling several balloons with a combination of both water and the chemicals for his fear gas formula. He had found that combining the drugs with water tended to make the effects linger far longer than his gas compounds usually did, and he was hoping that, if launched from, say, the very top of the Wonder Tower in Sheldon Park, that he could virtually affect many different people at the same time in many different areas, causing the police to become worn out from so many different incidents in the same space of that, crime would skyrocket and Batman would have to be called in instead, and that would hopefully buy them a few more days of peace before they had to move lairs.

And although Becky absolutely refused to help with the research of his fear toxin, she did agree to help him acquire the supplies, and he would assemble it himself. Unfortunately, midway through the acquiring of their hodgepodge of balloons and illegal chemicals, Batman had come crashing in, forcing them to flee with as much supplies as they could carry with them.

But as they ran, Batman was getting closer and closer to them, and Becky was still refusing to let off the gas near him, seeing as there were still several people in the store with them. And while he could admire her integrity, it still frustrated him at her holding back. He would rather some citizens suffer than to let her or him get captured by Batman. Besides, the police, who were right outside, already had the antidote.

"Any time now, Scream," Scarecrow growled, his eyes dilating with worry as Batman came closer to grabbing her. He knew that Batman was hardly gentle with criminals, even with Harley and Poison Ivy. And with Becky's vulnerable leg and medical conditions, he could accidentally kill her with even his more gentle incapacitating moves.

Currently, he was waiting outside in the shadows, using his fear toxin as a smoke screen to confuse the policemen, while he waited for her to meet him.

"I'm coming!" she cried, her scythe/cane slashing out at Batman.

She saw her chance when Batman leapt back to avoid her cane and dove for cover, catching up with the Scarecrow as he lifted up a manhole cover and disappeared down into the sewers.

"I'm here," she said, panting. "He's going to be right behind us any minute now."

"Shh!" he replied, covering her mouth. "Not so loud," he whispered, looking around frantically for any signs of the Bat or his robins. Seeing none, although the Robins could be hidden out of sight, he gestured for her to follow as he raced into the maze of paths that connected this part of the Gotham Sewers with the rest.

As they went deeper and deeper into the maze, the low, booming footsteps of Batman followed them hastily, silently tracking them as they went.

Finally, the footsteps stopped.

The two Rogues silently held their breath as Batman passed their hiding spot in the grates, silently praying that they wouldn't be found.

Much to their relief, it seemed that Batman had other matters to attend to, as he answered in his gruff whisper to his caller before hurrying past their direction, towards the entrance of the manhole cover, his footsteps soon receding from their hearing./p

"That was a close one," Scream whispered, finally breathing a sigh of relief.

"Yes," said Scarecrow, peering cautiously around the corner. "But don't get too cocky. We have more than Batman to worry about down here."

"Like what? Giant rats?" she asked sarcastically.

He snorted. "Worse," he replied brusquely, as he continued to creep quietly down another tunnel. "Crocodiles."

She rolled her eyes. She had heard rumors of crocodiles in the sewers, but she didn't believe them. She knew that was just an urban myth, designed to scare superstitious people into not going down into the sewers.Besides, the smell alone in this place would probably kill them 'em she thought. Heck, it almost killed me the first time I came down here.

Not many people knew this, but one of the ways that the supervillains in Gotham got around so quickly was through the sewers. In there, with a good knowledge of the city and its inner workings, they could get from one side of the city to the next in a good fifteen to thirty minutes, bypassing various dangers like the police and Batman, who would often wait for them at the top, hoping to ambush them.

But the sewers held their own set of dangers as well. Not only was it dark and moldy down there, as well as creaking places likely to fall apart if you put so much as a feather on them, but it wound its way so tightly through the city you could very well get lost in the maze and end up starving or dying of thirst, or if you were particularly unlucky, get caught in a nest of hungry rats that made their home down there. That was why only the more experienced rogues used the sewers, and only as a final resort if the police had surrounded them.

Becky couldn't tell whether it had been an hour or several hours that they had been down there, and she was starting to feel like they were going in circles. She had been focusing so much before on catching up with Scarecrow that she hadn't paid as much attention to any landmarks or signs she could use to find her way back. Not that it mattered, as it was too dark to make out much of anything.

"Jonathan, are you sure you know where you're going?" she asked, flinching at the loud, creaky sounds her footsteps made as they walked across a few boards. Moss coated the ceiling and floor, making walking very difficult for her. She had already slipped three times, nearly falling into the cold, filthy sewage water.

"Of course I know where I'm going!" he snapped, feeling himself starting to slip on the moss, before regaining his balance. "We're going a different way to get closer to the lair. That way we can get the Bat off our tracks and get the equipment safely back in one piece. Besides, I know this place like the back of my hand."

She sighed. "If you say so," she replied, nervously looking over her shoulders. She just couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, and not by the usual giant rats. This felt bigger. Much bigger.

They had come to a section of boards that lead into a flooded part of the sewer. Carefully, so as not to capsize the small planks they were on, Crane helped Becky steady herself, keeping her from falling into the deep water.

As they walked along, the vibrations they made pulsed out into the surrounding water, alerting the predator in it that dinner was served.

He smiled at her as light was starting to leak from a manhole cover a few hundred feet away from them. "See? Nothing dangerous in sight."

"Well, guess you were right," Becky replied, surprised. She had really expected something to jump out and grab them from behind, but it seemed that her anxiousness was unfounded.

"Trust me, my dear. There is nothing in this sewer that we can't handle.

Suddenly, the water started to surge and bubble as the massive form of Killer Croc burst from the water, roaring with rage and hunger.

"Except that! Run!" Scarecrow yelled, backpedaling so quickly that, if not for his tight grip on Scream's hand, she would have fallen into the water and been devoured.

Croc, knowing he was faster than them in the water, began to smash the wooden planks that secured their fate ahead of them as they raced as fast as they could towards the light.

"We won't be able to jump over to the other side this way. We need to find another way," Scarecrow said, narrowly avoiding a swipe from Croc.

Scream looked around, before spotting a cavity in the stone wall ahead of them. "Scarecrow! Over there! There's an opening," she shouted.

"Making a quick turn, he pivoted towards the entrance; Scream trailing close behind as Croc suddenly caught on to their plan and started to destroy their new path.

"Jump!"

With a flying leap, they gracelessly fell onto the stones, scrambling quickly upwards as they soon found themselves trapped behind a cross-barred gate.

Scarecrow, despite his more cowardly nature, quickly stood in front of Becky, not willing to risk her getting hurt if Croc decided to attack. His scythe was already unsheathed and held with both his hands in a defensive blocking position as he waited for Croc to surface. He would never admit it, but he had grown quite…attached to her. And he had no idea what Killer Croc wanted, nor did he care for he or Becky, especially Becky, to be on the menu.

Croc lunged out of the water towards them, his yellow eyes glowing in the dim light. He was over seven feet tall, his form blocking the entrance to the watery pit that they had previously ran.

"What do you want Croc? You're a bit far from your regular stomping grounds," Crane said, starting to back away from the savage killer, herding Becky closer to the door and away from Croc's massive jaws.

Croc laughed. "This entire sewer is my sstomping ground. And you are tresspassing."

"Yes, and we were just passing through. Now, if you don't mind…" he replied, trying to keep him placated. It would be a bad idea to get him angry, as an angry Croc would likely rip them apart limb from limb.

"Not just yet. The Mistress promised me extra mealssss if I deliver a message to the one known as Ssscream," Croc said, his guttural voice sending shivers down both of their spines.

"I-I'm Scream," she said, bravely standing up to him while Scarecrow switched positions with her, as he worked on lock-picking the gate.

Croc chuckled. "So, you are just as plucky as I heard, Ssscream, or sssshould I say, Rebecca Albright. Ssstill, you'll need more than just courage to take her down."

"What exactly is your message, Croc?" Becky asked angrily, standing her ground. She was tired of people dancing around the issues. Crane did it all the time with her when something that would slightly offend her came up, and frankly, she was sick of it. She just wanted to get straight to the point and get out of this smelly, disgusting place.

"Cut your ties with Crane, Albright. Otherwissse…"

"Otherwise what?" she challenged, taking a step closer to him. She refused to acknowledge her fear of him as she glared into his reptilian eyes, daring him to try something else. She would never give up on Jonathan, and she refused to be intimidated into doing such, even by a huge crocodilian. Behind her, Scarecrow continued to fiddle with the lock, trying to get the ancient piece of rusted metal to open.

He chuckled. "Otherwise, the Scarebeast will hunt you down. And believe me, you'll be begging for my cold jawsss to Snap across you throat." He licked his lips in anticipation, already savoring how delicious she would taste.

At the name of the Scarebeast, Scarecrow flinched. He now knew just who this mysterious Mistress was. But she couldn't be back. The last he had heard of her, she was working with the new Black Mask, Jeremiah Arkham. She didn't want anything to do with him anymore, just as he didn't want anything to do with her. So why did she take such a sudden interest in him now, of all times?

"And who or what is this 'Scarebeast?' Another one of your mistress' scare tactics?" Becky snarled, unaware of just how close to danger she was skirting with Croc in front of her.

"Becky…let's go," Crane warned, finally getting the lock picked, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit. He didn't want to get Croc angrier than he already was. And with the rate she was going, it was only a matter of time before he charged at them.

Unfortunately, she didn't get the warning in his voice, too angry at Croc to listen to her partner. "Oh, and one more thing, tell your mistress that she'll have a better chance of making you into a suitcase than making me run in fear!"

With a roar, Croc launched himself at the pair. Scarecrow barely grabbed Scream and slipped through the door in time before Croc rammed himself into the gate, jamming the door. He rammed it again and again, trying to make it budge, but to no avail.

The two bolted for their lives, not bothering to look back if Croc had gone another way. They didn't stop running until they were in the safety of their lair, dead bolting the doors in case Croc had tracked them to their hideout.

"Well, at least we got away from that thing," Becky said, as the two goons finished bolting the doors before scurrying off. "And what was with his threat? Did he honestly think he could scare me with that 'Scarebeast' thing? Hah! I really don't think that will be too much troub—" she was interrupted by Crane grabbing her throat and slamming her into the wall.

"Don't EVER mention that thing again! Do you understand me, Becky?" he roared, his eyes burning a scorching yellow.

Becky was startled as she looked into his eyes. Rarely had she ever seen Crane's eyes flash like that, and only when he was either very scared or very, VERY angry. The only time she had seen his eyes like that was when the Joker had her, and that time wasn't just a small ember. It was literally a flaming yellow orange, like the eyes of a Jack O' Lantern. "Jonathan…." She squeaked, starting to gag. "Please…stop…. you're…. choking…. me."

At her words, he seemed to realize what he was doing and instantly let go, his eyes changing back to their normal, icy-blue color. His eyes were now wide with horror, and he swiftly pushed past her and into his lab, ashamed of what he had just done.

Becky slumped to the floor, gasping for breath, completely shocked by his outburst. He had never, in all these months of being together, ever hit her like that. Even in sparring training, she could sense that he was holding back, preventing himself from causing her serious injuries. But this…this was full-force. She rubbed her neck where he had grasped it, knowing full well there would be bruises there in the settled herself on the floor. She knew he had a lot of stress eating at his mind, and it all came to a head today. He needed to regroup his thoughts. So, she sat silently and waited for him to come out and apologize.

Meanwhile, in his lab, Crane was pondering what he had just done.

What on earth was I thinking? He thought, throwing one of his fear gas sprays across the room. I would have never hit her in my life. Ever. And yet…. He couldn't bring himself to finish his thought.

"But why am I feeling this way? Why do I feel so…. ashamed?" he murmured to himself. He had been studying fear and its effects for almost 20 years now, and half of that time was spent as a Rogue. In that time, he had distanced himself from others, to the point of not even showing a hint of positive emotion as he grew up. All that usually showed on his callous features were anger, annoyance, and fear, and even those emotions were starting to become numb. And shame was especially an emotion he had not felt in years, not since he was a little boy, when he was punished for something wrong he had done. In his career as a rogue, he had thought that shame was the first emotion to leave him, gone when he had first started experimenting on his test subjects.

But if shame was the first thing he had become apathetic towards, why was he feeling it now? In fact, now that he thought about it, he had displayed a lot of emotion over the past few months. Happiness when something went right, disappointment when something didn't go his way, and even empathy when Becky was telling him her story.

Becky.

"It was Becky, wasn't it? She was the reason he had begun to feel alive again. All that time he was trying to manipulate her, and it turned out that he was the one who was changing. Oh, sure, she had changed her viewpoint somewhat in his favor, but her spirit, her will, he just couldn't twist or manipulate and now, he didn't even want to anymore.

Every time he thought of her, he felt comfort, peace. He had never really felt that way with anybody else before her. Oh, he thought he had, before. But those others…they only betrayed him in the end. Even thinking about them sent painfully memories coming crashing down on him.

But Becky he knew would never betray him. She held loyalty and promises too high to betray him over a whim. He trusted her like he had never trusted anybody else. Why else would he keep her around and believe that she would come back at the end of the day when she went off to run errands or attend her classes?

"A thought suddenly occurred to him. Do I love her? That would certainly make sense. His bond with her was very strong, and he felt a peace with her that no other person had ever given him before. He could trust her to come back to him, and knew that she cared for him enough to never betray him. It made sense that he would feel secure enough with her that feelings like love could develop.

"But…should I tell her?" He asked himself, suddenly finding himself nervous. He honestly didn't know if she would return his affections for her. For all he knew, she might have only considered him a good friend, or something along that line. He knew, after the last two times he had felt such feelings, that those women had no interest in him, and only wanted him as entertainment or research. And although he knew she would do none of those things, he didn't want to face the disappointment and rejection he had faced all of his life.

He immediately berated himself for having such thoughts. Oh, suck it up. You're the Master of Fear, not some lovesick teenager. You will go up there and you will tell her what you feel, despite the odds. At least then, you'll have at least some closure.

He was just about to stand from his perch on his seat, when he stopped.

But…if I do tell her I love her, truly, then that would mean no more secrets between us. She would know everything about me, about who I am, and what I've done. I know I'm done many things in my life that would disgust her, and I know that to continue studying fear in my old ways will eventually separate us in the end. And if we're separated… A cold shiver ran down his spine as he realized why he had flinched at Croc's warning.

And if we're separated…. then that means Friitawa would kill her by using me. His mind was filled with dread as he pictured himself standing over her, his monstrous Scarebeast form twisting him into something hideous as he raised his hand to end her life, all while Fright looked on, laughing at him. Images filled his mind, voices from his past experiences coming back to him, mocking him, hitting him, telling him he wasn't good enough, he wasn't smart enough, and he wasn't fast enough to save the only person he felt he could trust wholeheartedly.

"Now he realized what he really feared, and it made him feel like a hypocrite. When he was in Arkham being examined by the psychiatrists, he would often hijack their role and explain to them why fear was the best way to life. He would often tell them that the reason they held on to such notions as love and family was because they feared being alone, feared having nothing to contribute to their legacy, and feared facing death alone.

But now, he understood how they felt. He found he didn't want to spend all of his life alone. He found that, in trying to control and manipulate the fears in others, he was driven by those same fears in himself. All that time he had built himself up to be the Master of Fear, when in actuality; he was just a puppet of the same fear he tried to control.

It seemed that Becky, in admitting her fear and facing it, was the master of her own fears, understanding them and looking to push past their boundaries without letting them discourage her.

And now it was his turn to face his insecurity and anxiety. To either be ruled by it, or be the master of it.

And with his mind made up, Jonathan walked over to his door and opened it, stepping out of his lab.