Work Text:
Batman heard a distracted-sounding hum as he slowly woke up. Too slow for it not to be drugs. The humming stopped a short while after his head was completely clear. He still didn’t move. Secure about his secret identity with the cowl’s weight still resting on his head, he was more than content to let it be and make his capturer think he was still unconscious.
„Impressive, but it doesn’t fool me, Batman“, Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow, hummed. „I am a specialist in matters of the brain. And your pattern spiked wakefully.“ Batman tried immediately to sit up and was stopped by the weighted straps binding him to the surprisingly padded cot he was lying on.
„Crane, let me go!“, he growled.
„No“, the madman laughed and leaned on the table standing between them. It was mere convenience rather than regard for decoration, not a place to hold any equipment or documents long-term. It may also be to have a separation between him and his test subjects. „I always wanted to know what would happen if I tested my A triple F Substance. I never got it to work as I wanted and deemed it unable to test or use.“
„And you perfected it?“
„Ah, no, nothing like that, Batman. I just got a patient last week. Shaking like a leaf, stuttering in fear, and nearly having a heart attack at my doorstep. It took a while to understand him, and longer to stabilize him. I had to reengineer a temporal cure because he was reacting unusually to the cure I already had. I am still working on a permanent cure, but at least he is stable and can speak with my colleague about what happened and calm down enough for me to do this.“
„I will come free, and I will catch you. You will go to Arkham for a long time.“
„I don’t doubt that Batman“, Scarecrow chuckled, unamused and dark. „But you don’t see. Well, that is not my problem. It’s time to start the test. Trypano, please administer the dosage A tripple F ten dash seven D.“
Batman whiped his head around to the anrogynous looking, completely in latex or similar protective cloth-wrapped person, shifting silently on the other side in the shadows. They looked like they lifted fetish wear for their purposes.
„Doctor“, the person spoke, voice rasping with a crack at the edges. Either they pitched their voice and couldn’t hold the pitch, or they were too young to work with Crane. At least willingly. Instead of it being a confirmation, as Batman had thought at first, it was the start of an objection. „I this dosage not too strong?“
„No“, Scarecrow answered smoothly, standing up and flipping on a monitor Batman couldn’t see because it was behind him at his head. „He used a dosage far greater. You see this? This is the patient he had used my discarded and never-tested product on. If I had to make an educated guess, he took into account their experience with my various toxins and their tolerance regarding the usual compounds. If I had to guess, he used a concentration as high as fifty micrograms per liter at least. And regarding the research I’ve done on my patient's unique physiology with the selective metabolism and slower reaction, but shorter duration, and -through this- stronger effect, I guess he took the first two, didn’t consider the third, and made the dosage as high as one hundred at least.“
„That kills a normal person within minutes. Your patient was affected for days at least before coming to you“, the villainous (potential?) nurse breathed in shock. „And he survived?“
„From what I gathered: Months. And he did. By stubborn preservation and a lot of Lady Gotham’s love for him“, Scarecrow confirmed. „Recovery will be long, and he may never be the same, even if I find a permanent cure. I think a taste of that and the option to observe everything are very much appreciated. Trypano, would you please? “
„Of course, Doctor“, the nurse answered, and this time a needle was stabbed into Batman’s arm without any sympathy. He had been silent during the whole exchange, trying to figure out who the nurse is, and who Scarecrow has that he calls his patient. The burning feeling of liquid fear started crawling through his veins. He couldn’t control his body‘s shiver at the all too familiar feeling. He couldn’t suppress the rising of his heart rate, shown by a small silent monitor at the far wall, and he couldn’t stop his breath from hitching.
Scarecrow sat impassionate at his observation desk, starting to take notes and humming in thought. He had his head tilted towards the nurse, who was keeping an eye on Batman’s vitals and calling them out for notation from time to time. Batman wasn’t sure how long it had been. This visceral beast clawing at his breast and tearing at his sanity to run, to hide, to flee, was shredding his sense of time.
„Trypano?“
„Twenty minutes, five since stabilisation“, they replied. A spike of fear, of danger, run, hide, flee shot through Batman. He hated this. His responses to fear hadn’t been hiding, fleeing, for a long time now. He worked frantically at his bindings, hoping they would finally give and let him get away from Scarecrow and his inhuman nurse, but they held. He felt himself breathing frantically, recognizing the panic attack he was going to get, and felt rage shoot through him, only for more fear to come and fuel the cold fire licking at his limbs.
„Trypano?“, Scarecrow hummed.
„Still stable, Doctor“, the nurse answered. „I’m positive he will remain stable and can be released after an observation period of at least ten minutes after the panic attack subsides.“
„Perfect“, the villain declared, folding his hands into each other. „Now, Batman, I’m sure you’re questioning what I did and why exactly I’m doing it. I will enlighten you. It’s always good to hear one's mistake out loud, or it is harder to learn from the experience.“
„L-let me-e g-o-o...“, Batman whimpered with a stutter. He gritted his teeth and turned his face away, humiliated that his voice was this pathetic when he wanted to growl in anger.
„I will, in a short while“, Scarecrow promised. „It wouldn’t be good to set a precedent for leaving my patients at the mercy of my toxin without observation. Batman, I do this not only because of my patient you gave me, but because you used my dangerous and untested product. A project I had originally abandoned, to never use, because I deemed it too dangerous. The brain and mind are a fine-tuned example of evolutionary excellence. Bring anything out of balance in the brain chemistry, and your mind may be affected forever. Epinephrine -more commonly known as adrenaline- is such a finely tuned instrument. It is produced by many stimulations and in small doses as a transmitter of signals in our wonderful nervous system.
Making the body react in fear to any adrenaline is a sure way to make someone insane. Anything and Everything can cause adrenaline to spike. We shall go through a list of mundane everyday activities and stimuli that involve adrenaline production and excretion into the bloodstream. Activities: Exercise. A good workout, especially when the anaerobic metabolism starts taking over. No more running for an hour or more, no weight lifting and pushing your limits, no more trying new and unfamiliar ways to work your body. Emotions: Fear and stress. Both are strenuous for the body, and to help with a fast removal from the situation, adrenaline is released to aid in the regulation of breathing and increase oxygen intake.
Overall, adrenaline release is triggered by stress, fear, excitement, bright light, loud noise, or extreme temperatures. And now the dosage of this sample will let you know how it is, when any adrenaline inside you is a trigger for fear in a spiral until you calm down. But I‘m not cruel. The components will degrade after 7 days. After 9, there should be nothing left to find of this serum. But you will remember this. You will probably remember this week very clearly for a very long time.“
„Why?“, Batman breathed through the panic.
„Because you did that to my patient. He doesn’t have the advantage of the dosage stopping to work. And he has been living like this for months now. There is a reason I seldom change my chemical components in widespread attacks. There is a reason that I have specialised antidotes for anything I use and why I don’t target certain things. I would never target a school or kindergarten. I would never target a retirement home. I wouldn’t target a hospital. And after the first reaction test I made, I would have never used substance A tripple F. But then you modified it and used it on someone. Be glad I take my problems to you and not to your birdies as well. Nightwing would be easy to take down. Red Robin as well. I’m sure even Robin would be easy to take down, after a few trials with my general array of fear toxin.“
„Doctor, he’s still stable, but working back up into a panic attack“, Trypano interrupted. Batman hadn’t noticed it. His heart was still beating fast, his mind was lined in cotton, and his breathing was a pathetic, rabid panting.
„Thank you, Trypano. Any indication this needs to be stopped?“
„No, Doctor, he seems to stay stable as soon as the additional adrenaline from the toxin has reached the predicted maximum.“
„Very well. Batman, know this. I know your fears, the fears of your precious little birds and batlings. And I have a toxin targeting every little one of them and memories linked to those fears. I study, I learn, I experiment, and I know. So know this, Batman, it is mercy and my goal that hindered me from using it against you.“
„Still stable“, the Nurse declared after the speech. Scarecrow only nodded and took a small device from the table, pressing the button, before laying it on a letter. Batman could feel his breath hitch, his breast constricting by the sudden alarm. He would be left alone, defenceless against any crook out for vengeance when they left. Trypano tilted their head regarding the readings of his vital signs at the monitor one last time, before also leaving, closing the door after them.
Batman didn’t know how long it took, but it felt eternal until the door carefully opened. He whimpered as the fear in him spiked, only to go limp in relief as he saw his oldest son's blue masked face peer inside.
„Nightwing“, he almost sobbed. The vigilante stopped dead in his tracks, and the subtle shift of the lenses told Batman his son had narrowed his eyes.
„I hadn’t thought I'd see you, B“, he hissed. The man still on the medical cod shivered at the coldness, the fear spiking again from his son’s cold demeanor. „Where is Hood? I haven’t heard from him for a while now, and his emergency beacon was activated here.“
Batman froze. The small pressed device, the patient Scarecrow had spoken about. The patient Batman had dammned to the fate he would suffer the next few days if Scarecrow was telling the truth. (And aside from Joker, his rogues seldom outright lie.) „Scarecrow“, he choked out. Nightwing stilled in his tracks of coming to his aid and narrowed his eyes again. He gave a sweep of the room and found the emergency beacon used to call the nearest bat to aid. He also found the letter and decided to read it first. Batman made unhappy sounds deep in his throat, but understood the need to know if this was a trap.
He shivered and shrank back as he saw his son start shaking in unbridled rage. The younger vigilante took a deep breath and released it in measured increments. Not trained, not a pattern, just a grounding technique picked up since he flew from the nest. He could still see the anger boiling under his son’s now colder stare. Instead of soft reassurances as he was gently released and looked over, he got cold, silent efficence. Batman came up on shaking legs and was braced. But with the same distant cold his son had shown him since he read the letter. He shivered and drew more into himself, afraid of his son and the temper he knew was boiling under the iced-over surface. He had never before been afraid of any of his children. It made him nauseous to think about that.
„Sit and stay there until we’re back in the cave. I need to fill the rest in and inform Agent A“, Nightwing ordered after placing him in the back seat. Batman huddled under his cape, hoping for warmth, safety, and protection. He got none of it, but his son’s controlled cold voice, speaking a dialect of Romani Batman didn’t know. It was still soothing his rattled mind anyway. There was no indication of Nightwing's meaning or his shifting mood in his voice. Exhaustion gripped him and he was lulled into a dreamless doze as they quietly drove into the cave.
He rose from his doze again from the soft humming engine falling quiet. Nightwing turned to him. Apparently, Dick had removed his mask. His deep blue eyes were cold with fury, but still held a fraction of his warm love.
„How is your chiroptophobia, B?“, he asked cooly but not cruelly. Batman felt his breath hitch at the idea of coming near the furry little creatures. He knew they were harmless. The colony in the cave system in Gotham was vaccinated against all manner of diseases and spread the vaccine to each other with their saliva. He still couldn’t make himself say he could handle it, shrinking more into himself and trying to get himself smaller. Dick nodded at that, taking his reaction as his answer, and closed the door again. A few minutes later, he opened it and helped him out of the Batmobile, his cowl and armor, and into comfortable clothes. He was brought up into the manor proper as fast as possible.
Not a moment too soon, then the fluttering of bat wings heralded the return of the missing colony, sending Bruce a few fearful steps away from the closing clock.
„Master Bruce“, Alfred greeted him, face falling minutely as he flinched from the unexpected company. „Everything is prepared for a relaxing rest of the night. Master Dick is headed back out to search for Master Jason. I will be staying with you until the fear toxin has run its course.“
„You don’t have to“, Bruce tried, but flinched again as he was interrupted, breath and heartbeat quickening from the shock of the rude interruption.
„Certainly not. I don’t have to. I want to“, the butler answered, smiling reassuringly. „Now then, let us go to your room, Master Bruce. It certainly awakens old memories to stay in your room for a few days.“
„It does, Alfred, it does.“ Bruce mumbled back. These will be a few long and exhausting days to come.