The Scarecrow Plot - Part 2
The Scarecrow Plot - Part 2
by Toketsu Puurin
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own the Scarecrow, Bruce Wayne, or any other character mentioned in this fic.
Summary: What happens when The Batman's deepest fear takes hold of his life? What happens when it's not a fear he's ever been prepared to deal with?
Part 1
The Scarecrow Plot
Part 2
Bruce pulled off his gauntlets and dropped them next to the microscope. With a practiced hand he rolled back one of the sleeves of the batsuit and drew a blood sample. He dropped the vial into the centrifuge and glowered at it as he waited for the serum to separate.
Crane was a lunatic... but he wasn't stupid.
The Batman had been following the Riddler's game for days. The police had gotten an anonymous tip that the Riddler was hiding in an abandoned warehouse on Farrar St. Batman decided to head the Riddler off at the pass rather than let him pull off another job. He'd quite literally finished tying up the Riddler and his goons, when the Scarecrow burst into the room and gassed him point blank.
It was not Crane's typical behavior. Bruce always stocked an antidote to the fear gas in the batmobile, but he didn't carry it in his belt unless he had a reason to suspect Crane was up to something. He braced himself for the inevitable adrenaline rush, the paranoia, and the hallucinations.
They hadn't come.
Crane had seemed rather put out by that fact before Batman had decked him. Then he'd called Gordon, gone to the batmobile and taken the antidote... just in case.
Bruce irritably pulled the cowl off and checked his pulse as he stared at the centrifuge. Normal. Everything was normal. He had a horrible suspicion he wouldn't find any traces of the fear gas in his system. Everything pointed to Crane using a new toxin.
The problem was it didn't seem to work.
And Crane wasn't that stupid.
He would have tested it. And he wouldn't have dared use it against Batman unless he knew it worked... even more disturbing the entire situation suggested that Crane had set the Riddler up, simply to use the poison on Batman.
Which meant that all physiological evidence to the contrary, Crane's toxin had to have worked... the only question was... what did it do?
Bruce pulled out the blood sample and started to run tests.
Four hours and a plethora of tests later the Batman gave up and went to bed.
---------
Bruce had slept particularly badly the night before. He typically only got somewhere between one to three hours. For a man who could control his body as well as Bruce could, time was completely unrelated to quality when it came to sleep.
For Bruce quality had everything to do with dreams.
Bruce's subconscious was rarely inventive. His dreams were typically little more than memories heightened to surreal states. After all, when a man has seen all the horrors that the Batman has endured in his life, the subconscious probably can't add much.
Last night his subconscious had been particularly inventive.
The dream had started normally.
Bruce was happy, vivacious and excited. Zorro was dashing! He'd saved the day! Rescued the girl! And he'd done it all with the dramatic flair that every young boy dreams a hero should have.
His mother and father were laughing happily at his excited antics. He slowed as they all reached the last streetlamp before the alley. As he turned around to take his parent's hands the world around them faded away. The other people on the streets vanished, the theater receded, and behind his back his adult mind could feel the alley growing larger and more threatening. His parents began to walk him into the alley. He smiled. The man appeared. His father moved. The gun flashed. The pearls fell and blood pooled at his feet.
Typically this was where his dream would break, and he would burst into consciousness in a cold sweat or screaming in terror.
But last night that escape from the horrors of his past into the slightly less extreme horrors of his life had been denied him.
His mind had wandered into extremes it rarely reached. Dreams where the Joker bashed Selina's head in with a crowbar in front of their children. Dreams where he watched Diana die at the hands of Darkseid. Dreams where Jason came back to life, an evil twisted creature who caused the downfall of Gotham. Dreams where Leslie coolly stopped him from preventing Stephanie's death at the hands of Zsasz. Cassandra killing Alfred for Ra's. Monstrous birds with the faces of Jim and Barbara blaming him for ruining their lives while tearing at his flesh.
Tim in the alley after having seen Zorro with his parents, crying out in anguish after a Bat shaped wraith with a gun slaughtered them before his eyes.
Dick as a lazy playboy who used women like tissue and abused his power and wealth for his own benefit.
Dreams where he killed the hope that one man represented to the rest of the world with a small green bullet.
Bruce forced the scowl from his face as he walked into the board meeting of Wayne Enterprises.
Okaaay... so I need ideas on where I'm going to take this. because I've got approximately one. and while it's a start that's really not going to take me to the depths of horror that Bruce will experience by suddenly having to face his own feelings. Because there are so many things he's going to have issues with.
Oh yeah.... I need a better title too.
by Toketsu Puurin
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own the Scarecrow, Bruce Wayne, or any other character mentioned in this fic.
Summary: What happens when The Batman's deepest fear takes hold of his life? What happens when it's not a fear he's ever been prepared to deal with?
Part 1
The Scarecrow Plot
Part 2
Bruce pulled off his gauntlets and dropped them next to the microscope. With a practiced hand he rolled back one of the sleeves of the batsuit and drew a blood sample. He dropped the vial into the centrifuge and glowered at it as he waited for the serum to separate.
Crane was a lunatic... but he wasn't stupid.
The Batman had been following the Riddler's game for days. The police had gotten an anonymous tip that the Riddler was hiding in an abandoned warehouse on Farrar St. Batman decided to head the Riddler off at the pass rather than let him pull off another job. He'd quite literally finished tying up the Riddler and his goons, when the Scarecrow burst into the room and gassed him point blank.
It was not Crane's typical behavior. Bruce always stocked an antidote to the fear gas in the batmobile, but he didn't carry it in his belt unless he had a reason to suspect Crane was up to something. He braced himself for the inevitable adrenaline rush, the paranoia, and the hallucinations.
They hadn't come.
Crane had seemed rather put out by that fact before Batman had decked him. Then he'd called Gordon, gone to the batmobile and taken the antidote... just in case.
Bruce irritably pulled the cowl off and checked his pulse as he stared at the centrifuge. Normal. Everything was normal. He had a horrible suspicion he wouldn't find any traces of the fear gas in his system. Everything pointed to Crane using a new toxin.
The problem was it didn't seem to work.
And Crane wasn't that stupid.
He would have tested it. And he wouldn't have dared use it against Batman unless he knew it worked... even more disturbing the entire situation suggested that Crane had set the Riddler up, simply to use the poison on Batman.
Which meant that all physiological evidence to the contrary, Crane's toxin had to have worked... the only question was... what did it do?
Bruce pulled out the blood sample and started to run tests.
Four hours and a plethora of tests later the Batman gave up and went to bed.
---------
Bruce had slept particularly badly the night before. He typically only got somewhere between one to three hours. For a man who could control his body as well as Bruce could, time was completely unrelated to quality when it came to sleep.
For Bruce quality had everything to do with dreams.
Bruce's subconscious was rarely inventive. His dreams were typically little more than memories heightened to surreal states. After all, when a man has seen all the horrors that the Batman has endured in his life, the subconscious probably can't add much.
Last night his subconscious had been particularly inventive.
The dream had started normally.
Bruce was happy, vivacious and excited. Zorro was dashing! He'd saved the day! Rescued the girl! And he'd done it all with the dramatic flair that every young boy dreams a hero should have.
His mother and father were laughing happily at his excited antics. He slowed as they all reached the last streetlamp before the alley. As he turned around to take his parent's hands the world around them faded away. The other people on the streets vanished, the theater receded, and behind his back his adult mind could feel the alley growing larger and more threatening. His parents began to walk him into the alley. He smiled. The man appeared. His father moved. The gun flashed. The pearls fell and blood pooled at his feet.
Typically this was where his dream would break, and he would burst into consciousness in a cold sweat or screaming in terror.
But last night that escape from the horrors of his past into the slightly less extreme horrors of his life had been denied him.
His mind had wandered into extremes it rarely reached. Dreams where the Joker bashed Selina's head in with a crowbar in front of their children. Dreams where he watched Diana die at the hands of Darkseid. Dreams where Jason came back to life, an evil twisted creature who caused the downfall of Gotham. Dreams where Leslie coolly stopped him from preventing Stephanie's death at the hands of Zsasz. Cassandra killing Alfred for Ra's. Monstrous birds with the faces of Jim and Barbara blaming him for ruining their lives while tearing at his flesh.
Tim in the alley after having seen Zorro with his parents, crying out in anguish after a Bat shaped wraith with a gun slaughtered them before his eyes.
Dick as a lazy playboy who used women like tissue and abused his power and wealth for his own benefit.
Dreams where he killed the hope that one man represented to the rest of the world with a small green bullet.
Bruce forced the scowl from his face as he walked into the board meeting of Wayne Enterprises.
Okaaay... so I need ideas on where I'm going to take this. because I've got approximately one. and while it's a start that's really not going to take me to the depths of horror that Bruce will experience by suddenly having to face his own feelings. Because there are so many things he's going to have issues with.
Oh yeah.... I need a better title too.