Batman jerks upwards, sucking in ragged breaths as he fumbles about frantically. It takes him a good few seconds to get his bearings, but eventually he's calm enough to focus.
He's in one of Arkham's corridors. The room with the Arkham employees is nowhere in sight, and he doesn't recognize his current location at all. But that hardly matters.
The boys. Are they safe? Are they alive? The questions ravage his mind, and for a terrible moment he's sure that they are all dead.
No. Dick and Jason are safe, back at Wayne Manor. Tim…Tim is captured, but alive. For now.
But he has to be sure. Batman presses two fingers against the side of his cowl. "Nightwing? Nightwing, come in. This is Batman."
In answer, distorted static comes through the comm. Then silence.
"Dammit," he mutters.
Batman squeezes his eyes shut, taking in deep, controlled breaths to clear his mind of the effects of the now obvious dose of fear toxin he had succumbed to. He can't let it control him, he can't allow it to twist his thoughts. He knows what is real. Dick, Jason, and Tim are still alive. They have to be.
Letting out a low breath, Batman raises his head and looks around. He must have run into some of Scarecrow's gas while trying to get into the employee room.
The employees. If they're still alive, he needs to get them out. Pulling up the schematics of Arkham's layout, he sees that he's not far from the recreation room; in fact, he's only ahead of it by about twenty yards. Batman rushes back to the room, shocked that he had gone such a short distance under the influence of the toxin – it had seemed so much further than that.
He pulls on his respirator as he approaches the now very visible door to the room, in case there is still leftover gases in the air. A single, rough kick to the door is all it takes to break it open.
He doesn't even make it past the doorway. Lying about the room, in puddles of blood and with expression of pure terror still etched on their faces, are all ten victims. A simple look is all that is needed to see that all of them are dead.
Batman clenches his fists at the gruesome sight. He glances away momentarily in mournful silence, and the closes the door; he can't do anything more for them now.
He continues on in the direction he had originally been heading, searching for any other clues to Tim's whereabouts.
"Boys!" rings out Joker's voice through the corridor speakers. "I hope you've been keeping a sharp eye out for our Dark Knight. I don't want him meddling with my plans until I give the say so, capiche? And I want all the doctors rounded up! Search every inch of the medical building. I mean it – search every room, and every office, and every trashcan! If another doctor tries to run and get out of the building, then you won't! I'll just flood the room with happy gas and leave you to die!" Joker lets out a short chuckle. "I may do that anyway. Sounds fun."
Batman stops, suddenly torn between what to do. Though he desperately wants to find Tim, if Joker wants the medical doctors, there must be a significant reason. And, unlike Joker's hostage, they are expendable.
He can't let them die, and he most certainly cannot let Joker get whatever it is he wants from them.
He has to believe that Joker's dependence on keeping Tim alive will be enough for now. Squeezing his hands into tight fists, Batman hesitates, then turns to a window in the hallway and throws a Batarang at it, shattering the glass. Launching himself into the night, Batman shoots his grappling hook at the top of the building and pulls himself up over the side. Landing on the rooftop, Batman twists around, getting a view of Arkham's grounds.
The medical building is northeast of where he stands; he should be able to get there in about three minutes. Running towards the roof's edge, Batman leaps off, using his grappling hook to propel him towards the medical facility.
As he soars over the buildings, Batman spots a few clusters of Joker's men scattered about the open grounds. They saunter about, looking rather cocky as they search for any sign of the Dark Knight. Shaking his head, Batman continues on, knowing that right now his priority is saving the doctors.
He lands on the medical building's rooftop within two minutes and fifty-three seconds. Opening up the trapdoor to the Maintenance Access, Batman slinks down into it, moving through the ventilation system of the building quietly but quickly. Eventually he comes to a gated opening. Peering through it, he sees that he's overlooking the Sanatorium, in which are multiple holding rooms.
"Get off of me!"
Narrowing his eyes, Batman squints through the gate to see a woman in medical scrubs struggling with a Blackgate prisoner, who is trying to pin her arms behind her back. Four other men surround them.
"Shut it!" yells the thug. "Get in there with the others. Move it!" He gives the woman a rough shove towards the open door of one of the rooms.
"Okay, okay, I hear you! I'm going!" the woman exclaims, stumbling through the doorway.
Batman tears off the gate to the ventilation shaft, then shoots his grappling hook at a gargoyle overlooking the Sanatorium. Noiselessly gliding through the air, he drops down on the first of the guards, smashing the man's head into the tiled floor. Immediately, the other thugs rush at Batman. As Batman rushes forward to meet them, he grabs the shoulders of two of the men and uses their bodies to propel himself into the air. He spins around as he lands behind them, then reaches out and slams their heads together. Before they even finish crumpling to the floor, Batman smacks the gun away from the fourth man and knocks him out in two punches. The fifth man lunges forward with a knife, but Batman lurches out of the blade's range and tosses a Batarang at the man's arm, slicing through skin. Crying out, the thug immediately releases his weapon, and Batman delivers a kick to his abdomen, throwing him back against the wall. A final punch to the head is all that's needed to render him unconscious.
Rolling his shoulders back as he straightens, Batman walks over to the room the doctor had been forced into. The door is unlocked, so he pushes it open with ease.
Crouching down and facing the walls are six doctors. At the sound of someone entering, two of them peer over their shoulders, fear sparking in their eyes. But then recognition crosses their faces and they spring up with cries of relief.
"Batman!"
"Batman, it's you!"
At that, the rest of the doctors turn around, and soon all are hurrying over to Batman.
"Thank goodness you've come!" says one of the doctors. "They were getting ready to move us to where the Joker is."
"And where is that?" asks Batman.
The man shrugs. "I don't know; they wouldn't tell us anything except that Joker wants to see all of us. Desperately, from how his men talked."
Batman shifts his gaze over everyone present. "Do you have any idea of what Joker might want from you?"
Most of them shrug, giving uncertain replies. One woman, however, glances away, the flicker of shame in her eyes not missed by Batman.
"What about you?" Batman inquires, nodding at her. "Doctor…?"
"Young," the woman answers. She gives a frustrated sigh. "Look, I don't know what the Joker wants. However, I need to get back to the Arkham Mansion. All my research notes are there; I can't risk Joker getting his hands on them."
Batman shakes his head. "It's not safe there, doctor. The island's a warzone – you won't stand a chance."
"It's my life's work!" protests Dr. Young.
"It's not worth your life," Batman says firmly. "I need to get you all to a safe place."
Dr. Young sets her jaw. "You really don't have the authority to –"
"I'll get her there, Batman," says a voice from the doorway.
Batman turns to see a tall, heavily built man walk into the room. Though initially tense at the new presence, upon recognizing the respected senior security guard, Batman relaxes his stance.
"Cash!" Dr. Young says, beaming at the officer. "Thank goodness, are you alright?"
"It's just a bump on the head," Officer Cash says. "Nothing to worry about." He turns his attention to Batman. "I was escorting Dr. Young when a group of Joker's thugs surprised us. They knocked me out, and I only just woke up a few minutes ago. Your rather loud rescue alerted me as to where Dr. Young and her colleagues were."
Dr. Young takes a step closer to Cash. "Can you really take me to the Mansion?"
"Of course," Cash says.
A grateful smile spreads across Dr. Young's lips. "Thank you."
"I don't like this," Batman says. "Splitting up is not a good idea." He glances at Cash, his expression grim. "However, if you're with her, then I suppose it's the best we can do at the moment."
Cash gives a shrug. "I'm sure we'll be alright. But if we do run into anyone…" He smirks. "If you ask me, it's about time for a little payback."
A frown slips onto Batman's face. "Keep your communication lines open," he says. "If you need help, I'll be listening in."
"That doesn't surprise me in the least," says Cash. Shaking his head, he gives a short wave, then follows Dr. Young out the door.
His face betraying none of his apprehension, Batman turns back to the five remaining doctors. "Alright, we're going to head back to Intensive Treatment. There are more Arkham guards in that area, and they should be able to protect you."
The doctors glance at each other anxiously, but do not protest as they are led out of the room.
Batman takes the group to the southwest entrance of the Medical Facility, and together they make their way across the asylum grounds in the direction of Intensive Treatment. They try to keep out of sight as much as possible, but as they cross a small courtyard heavy footsteps sound from behind them. Startled, the doctors spin around, peering into the darkness.
"Well, well, well," says a raspy voice. "Looks like we hit the jackpot."
"Doctors and the Batman?" says another. "Joker's gonna be psyched."
From the shadows emerge seven Blackgate thugs. They quickly surround Batman and the doctors, brandishing weapons stolen from either Arkham security or the asylum's armory. Vicious smiles spread across their faces as they move in.
"Let's see how well you do against us, Bat-freak," one of the men says.
Gritting his teeth, Batman hovers his hand over a Batarang. "This doesn't have to end in a fight," he says. "Walk away, and I'll be sure to lesson your sentences once you're back at Blackgate."
The thug laughs. "We ain't ever going back there. And it looks like you'll never be leaving this island after tonight." He shifts his grip on the knife in his hand and takes a step closer.
Suddenly, something whirls past the Blackgate men and lands with a soft splat at the feet of the thug who had just spoken. His brow creasing in confusion, the man leans forward slightly, squinting into the dimness. Then the next second the small blob explodes, throwing the thug and the man closest to him through the air and into a half-wall behind them.
The other men glance around them anxiously, raising their weapons.
There's a faint whizzing sound, and then two of the thugs flinch, clutching their necks. A second later they both collapse, unconscious.
"What the hell…" mutters one of the three remaining men.
Another splat, this time in-between two of the thugs.
"Fuck this," the man closest to the new blob says. "Someone else can get the Bat." Then he turns and races off, heading down a shadowy pathway stretched between two buildings.
The final two thugs glance at each other nervously, then run off in the same direction.
"Gee, you'd think they'd never seen knock-out darts before," says a voice from a low hanging rooftop above Batman and the doctors. A figure flips through the air, landing perfectly on the pavement. Straightening, he flashes a smile at the group.
"Hi," greets Nightwing.
"I still think it would've been more fun to just punch them all," jokes another voice. A second figure drops to the ground beside Nightwing.
"You look like shit, Batman," says the Gotham Knight.
Batman stares at the two in surprise. Part of him is overcome with relief at the simple sight of them standing there, alive, and he wants nothing more than to grab onto them with his own hands, to reassure himself that this isn't another toxin-induced hallucination. The other, more practical part of him, is…rather annoyed. And worried at what their presence here will mean now.
"What are you doing here?" he growls.
"You're welcome for saving your butt," Nightwing says, making an obvious effort to step onto the back of one of the unconscious thugs as he walks forward. "We heard over the comm that you needed to get these fine doctors to Intensive Treatment, so we thought we'd lend a helping hand."
"The comms are down," says Batman.
Nightwing shakes his head. "Not anymore. Oracle fixed that."
Something vaguely close to offense flashes across Batman's face. "I had everything under control."
The Gotham Knight snorts. "Yeah, well, we brought back-up anyway." He raises his hand and waves it forward. "The coast is clear, boys!"
The door to the building nearest them opens, and about ten Arkham security guards stream outside, quickly forming a protective circle around group.
"We picked them up here and there along the way," says Nightwing. "And they're more than happy to escort the doctors to Intensive Treatment, while we go find Joker."
Batman glances around at the surrounding guards, his frown deepening. But then he lets out a somewhat defeated breath and looks back at Nightwing and the Gotham Knight. "Fine." He turns to the guards. "Do not let Joker's men get even one of these doctors."
"Don't worry about us," assures one of the men. "We'll keep 'em safe. You just be sure to get that pasty faced bastard." The man gestures to his companions, and together with the doctors they head in the direction of Intensive Treatment.
The Gotham Knight nods his head after the guard who had spoken. "I like him."
"What are you both doing here?" Batman demands. "Especially you, Jason?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were using our real names," Jason says in mock surprise, looking about him with an exaggerated swing of his arms.
No one seems to be in sight, but nevertheless, Dick nudges them all towards the door leading back into the Medical Facility. "Let's talk in here, out of sight," mutters Dick. Batman doesn't look pleased at being prodded around, but he follows his sons inside a small, empty room within the facility without argument.
The moment the door shuts tight behind them, Bruce turns to face Dick and Jason, crossing his arms in disapproval. "Neither of you should be here," he says sternly. "You both know Jason was to stay in his room until I got back."
"Call me crazy, but I think Joker locking you inside Arkham with all of his buddies is a valid reason to break out of time-out," Jason says.
Bruce gives Jason an exasperated look. "It doesn't matter," says Bruce. "Jason –"
"I haven't gone psycho on anyone yet, if that's what you're going to ask," Jason says in disgust. He pulls off his helmet, tucking it under his arm.
Bruce fights the urge to sigh in frustration. "Look –"
"And where's Tim?" snaps Jason. "His tracer hasn't shown up on the scanner all night."
Bruce falls quiet, unwilling to answer as he glances between the two of them. But his silence is enough for Jason and Dick, confirming their fears.
"Where is he, Bruce?" Jason snarls. He takes a step closer. "Where the hell is he?"
There's a pause. "Jason…" begins Bruce. "Losing control is not going to help –"
"Where is he?" demands Jason, giving Bruce a hard shove.
Bruce grits his teeth. "The Joker has him."
The words don't even finish coming from Bruce's mouth before Jason's fist connects with his jaw, sending the larger man reeling back. Dick takes a hurried step forward, but Bruce holds out his hand, stopping Dick's advance.
"You son of a bitch!" Jason shouts. "You were supposed to protect him!" His furious gaze is easily matched with Bruce's, who stands stock-still as he scowls at his son. "How could you, Bruce? How could let him take Tim?"
"I didn't let him do anything," grinds out Bruce. "And your childish outbursts are doing nothing to help us get Tim back."
"We have to find him," says Jason, his words desperate in spite of his rage.
"We will, Jason," Dick says, trying to keep his voice calm, even with his own rising panic. "I promise, we will." He turns to Bruce, silently pleading for him to say something.
But neither Jason or Bruce pay attention to Dick; both are glaring at each other, their mutual anger blazing between them.
After a tense few seconds, Bruce glances at Dick. "How did you even get on the island?" he snaps.
Dick takes a moment to answer the question, shifting uncomfortably. "We, uh, went through the abandoned wing."
Bruce's eyes flicker back to Jason for the smallest instant.
"And you probably should know…" continues Dick. "We found Bane. In the level above the…one you sealed off."
Surprise flashes across Bruce's face. "What?"
Dick nods. "Yeah, he was strung up and being experimented on by a Dr. Young –"
"Dr. Young?"
Dick's brow creases. "What, you know her?"
"She had left for the Arkham Mansion about twenty minutes ago," says Bruce. "She needed to get her research notes."
"And you just let her go alone?" Jason asks in disbelief.
"Of course not," huffs Bruce. "She went with Officer Cash."
"Oh," Jason says sarcastically. "Well that's a relief."
Dick shakes his head. "Those research notes are probably the ones pertaining to her experiments on Bane. She was draining Venom from his blood, and when the Joker –"
"The Joker knows you're here?" interrupts Bruce, fear seizing hold of him. "Both of you?"
"Is that really surprising, after everything else he's gotten into tonight?" Dick says, raising his eyebrows. Then he gives an impatient wave of his hand. "Anyway, the Joker pumped Bane with this new kind of Venom. It was far more powerful than any other form of Venom I've seen before, and it made Bane a heck of a lot stronger than normal."
"Also, the Joker had said something about Bane being 'his business,'" adds Jason. "He's either working with Dr. Young on this or forcing her to work for him."
"We need to get those notes," Bruce says. "Now."
"What about Tim?" asks Jason, crossing his arms.
Bruce grimaces, guilt pricking at him. "He's more valuable to the Joker alive than dead. He's safe – for now. But if Joker is after those notes, we can't let him get them."
"Then you go after those notes," Jason says. "I'm going after Tim."
"No," snaps Bruce. "You both should go back to the Manor; it's not safe here."
Dick rolls his eyes. "Is anything we do in this line of work safe? Come on, Bruce. You can't expect us to leave, especially with Tim out there."
Bruce presses his lips together, his displeasure obvious. Finally, he gives an irritated sigh. "Fine. If you won't leave the island, then you both need to stay with me. Splitting up will only make us easier targets for the Joker – we have to stick together."
"I'm not going to abandon Tim," snarls Jason.
"That's not what we're doing," Bruce says heatedly. "But our priority needs to be –"
"Needs to be Tim," insists Jason. "We can't leave him." He gestures harshly to his disfigured cheek. "I'm living proof of what happens when Robins stay too long in the Joker's hands."
Bruce's chest tightens as he stares at the scar. A sickening feeling pools in his stomach, but he ignores it, shaking his head. "I have to believe Tim can hold out for a little longer." He clenches his hands, trying not to look as anxious as he feels. "Your boys' safety is of the utmost importance, and I want Tim back just as much as you two. But I will not allow valuable information to fall into the Joker's hands, and I certainly will not risk either of you being captured. You both have already disobeyed a number of my orders tonight, but now you will follow every single one I give here on out. Do you understand?"
Dick glances over at Jason, who avoids his gaze. Sighing, Dick turns back to Bruce. "Yes," he says quietly.
Bruce frowns at his younger son. "Jason?"
There's a pause. Looking extremely unhappy with the situation, Jason tightens his jaw. "Fine."
Their answers do little to lesson Bruce's agitation. "Neither of you will leave my sight. You will do exactly as I tell you, and you will leave the Joker to me."
Neither Dick or Jason reply, but Bruce takes their lack of argument as consent enough. "Alright then," he says. "Let's go."