Adrift in Time

[Tsukino_kage]

Give the man some credit. Cobblepot isn't on the level of say, Luthor, Darkseid, Joker, or any of the other heavy hitter magnificent bastards DC has to offer, but he's no slouch.

Though if I were him, I'd skip town. Now.

Speaking of which, what IS Luthor doing right now? Is he in jail, because I would think if he was running the Legion of Doom right now, they'd be getting involved in this shit. So would Intergang actually.

 

[tcm]

Give the man some credit. Cobblepot isn't on the level of say, Luthor, Darkseid, Joker, or any of the other heavy hitter magnificent bastards DC has to offer, but he's no slouch.

Though if I were him, I'd skip town. Now.

Speaking of which, what IS Luthor doing right now? Is he in jail, because I would think if he was running the Legion of Doom right now, they'd be getting involved in this shit. So would Intergang actually.

I've always seen Penguin, at his best, as the alternative crime family in Gotham. He has the Crazy thing going for him just enough to have an in on all the differnt criminal aspects--the mob, the gangs, even guys like Joker, Two-Face and Black Mask. He has his own little slice of the mob business and as long as nobody fucks with him, he's no better or worse than any normal crime family around the country, probably a little less dangerous actually. But you are a criminal and get into the really crazy stuff a little and you need somebody who can bridge the gap? You call Penguin.

 

[A Curious Stranger]

Give the man some credit. Cobblepot isn't on the level of say, Luthor, Darkseid, Joker, or any of the other heavy hitter magnificent bastards DC has to offer, but he's no slouch.

Though if I were him, I'd skip town. Now.

Speaking of which, what IS Luthor doing right now? Is he in jail, because I would think if he was running the Legion of Doom right now, they'd be getting involved in this shit. So would Intergang actually.

According to the DCAU wiki, Luthor is in the Source Wall, so he's not getting out anytime soon. As for Intergang, well, weren't they wiped out by Superman after finding out they were a front for Darkseid? If they weren't I'll have to watch those Superman episodes to get a handle on their characters.

As for Penguin, well, he's not leaving Gotham anytime soon. He's invested too much. Hell, in the Comics, he never left even during No Man's Land because he made sure he'd be top dog. Gotham is where he belongs and he won't leave unless he can help it.

 

[zeebee1]

If the Penguin is seen leaving Gotham it would take at least five years to rebuild his connections.

 

[A Curious Stranger]

It's an update. Seriously.


---

Floyd Lawton picked a piece of particularly juicy crab with a toothpick. He edged it out between the crevasses of his teeth before he flicked it inside and swallowed with a grin. He leaned back in his chair and propped up his feet on the table, waiting for his newest customer to talk.

The bodies of no less than seven men littered the floor around him.

Yuri Dimitrov cracked open another crab leg with his fingers and let some juice flick out before he lifted the meat to his mouth. This continued on for sometime, not really anything Lawton, better known as Deadshot, hadnÆt expected. He was trying to show that Dimitrov had all the power. Well good for him.

<The defeat of my men was unnecessary,> the quiet man said.

First language to throw off his opponent. Stupid. Did Dimitrov really think Lawton wouldnÆt have picked it up during his travels?

<Not dead. Justà hurt. Will get up in a bit,> Deadshot said smoothly, though inwardly he cursed to himself for the flawed Russian. Did Yuri notice?

The slight pulling of his lips told Lawton that yes, Dimitrov knew exactly what Lawton had tried and just found himself amused.

ôDo you understand the particulars of your contract?ö Dimitrov asked in slowly enunciated English. Yet another æflawÆ which Deadshot knew was fake. The man had studied at Princeton and Deadshot knew he was capable of more.

ôNo. You told me come with a down payment of ten grand. That was enough.ö

ôHow did you come to be free? Last I checked, you were in Belle Reve slated for execution.ö

ôKilled enough people for Uncle Sam to cut me a deal. Gave some people who were poor in bullets a few and here I am,ö Lawton said.

ôWhat I am about to request of you is much the same.ö

öDoubt it.ö

ôWhen the streets are fighting, take up vantage point. Kill anyone who seems like a leader. Assassination requests will also come.ö

ôFalcone right.ö Deadshot said, not asked.

ôWhen the time is right,ö Dimitrov said with a slight smile.

Deadshot considered his options. Really, this would be his first big job after his release from the Task Force. If he played his cards right, he could find himself back on top of the game!

ôLetÆs do it.ö

---

Jonathon Crane was doing research.

HeÆd made a few modifications to his toxins and was hoping to see some promising results. Admittedly he was running out of participants faster than heÆd expected but really, it couldnÆt be helped. Science was science. It demanded total attention and would leap above whatever na´ve expectations one expected. Rather much like a woman, Crane mused. Or at least, that was the sort of crass comment heÆd heard so much during his incarcerations. Crane never really had time for women really. Or men. Friends. People. He had his studies. And dealing with people always led to pain anyway.

ôSubject shows no deviation from expected norms. Results are disappointing. The base is sound, but I need something bigger. At this rate however, I shudder to think I will have to recreate the formula from scratch. The used components just arenÆt producing what I need,ö he said into an old-fashioned tape recorder as he picked through the participantÆs kitchen. He tutted at the lack of any fresh foods. No wonder this one was so obese. He was no nutritionist, but subsiding on such fatty foods would lead to an early death.

Left with no choice, Crane took out a can of ravioli and punched a few numbers into the microwave.

ôOh God! That smell, d-dad, y-y-youÆve come home.ö

Crane perked up and dashed towards his participant weeping on the floor.

ôMommy says that whiskey is bad for you daddy. She-ahhh!ö

ôOlfactory components seeing possible success. Awaiting further responses,ö Crane breathed excitedly into his recorder.

ôObvious parental abuse from his father. Participant seems to have fondness of his mother. The smell of alcohol apparently features prominently. Helps explain the lack of any such beverages in this domicile,Æ Crane noted.

He was disappointed though, as the participant trailed off into incoherent blubbers and was unable to make out a single word. He was fairly certain primal fears of darkness featured in there somewhere, along with other childhood horrors, but the man was, quite frankly, too big a mess.

The microwave dinged.

Crane shot the crying man another look before heading to grab his meal. HeÆd seen success tonight, and now he just had to refine it. Any further observations could be had at the dining table, where heÆd be given a good look.

Crane chuckled. How kind of this participant to be the gracious host. Dinner and a show.

His long fingers scrabbled at the lid, but failed to make purchase. Growling, he grabbed a fork and jabbed it onto the top and used it as a lever. With a grunt, heÆd popped up the lid and pulled back, revealing the steaming food. Disgusted with all the sugary drinks that the participant kept, he helped himself to tap water, reassured that the man at least kept a filter on it. After what Joker had done to the city water, such filters were a necessity in Gotham.

Crane himself was surprised at how hungry he was, noting how quickly the food disappeared down his throat before wiping off his lips using a napkin. He was debating seconds when a foul stench permeated his nose. Crane sighed as he took up his recorder again and headed over to the now still man.

ôCardiac Arrest. Time of Deathà 8:04 PM Eastern Seaboard. ParticipantÆs heart could not take the stress brought on by the toxin. His death also most likely had a heavy factor in his obesity. Mental note to self. Eat healthy.ö

Crane thumbed the button before he went to the bathroom and straightened his noose. He gave his reflection a shy smile before putting on his mask. The ScarecrowÆs rictus sneer stared back.

It was time to leave and find a new test subject. Who knows? Maybe this time, they would be volunteers.

---

Harleen Quinzel, preferably known as Harley Quinn sighed before a glance at the window next to her. No response.

She sighed again. Louder.

Again, no response. Harley debated sighing even louder than before until she decided it would be useless. SheÆd already done just about everything to get Mistah JÆs attention. SheÆd sang, danced, told a funny joke sheÆd heard someone say (that one actually got her a slap on the face, so you know, progress), and sheÆd even tried putting on some sexy number that just got her lecherous grins from a few goons and a couple of very full hyenas.

Really now, heÆd been like this ever since theyÆd blown the old joint and came to yet another abandoned factory (and geewhiz how many of those things did Gotham have anyway? What did, the place have a factory that made abandoned factories or something?ö)

Mistah J had parked himself right out a window and just sat there looking like stone. HeÆd even gotten himself a pure black outfit instead of his so much nicer looking purple duds. Yuck, so much gloom around the place. Leave that to Batman.

So Harley had manned up (so to speak) and gone to grab hold of impressionable young minds with the promise of cash and violence to their persons if they did not join. She got lots of people. Good times. With nothing to do however, Harley took out a nail file and started whittling them down to a manageable size as she whistled the most annoying song she could think of to try to snap her beloved PuddinÆ out of his funk. She hadnÆt seen the man move to go use the john or even eat! Must have been some kinda superpower or something. She had to admit that he looked pretty swank though. His brooding good looks framed around the moon contrasted with his pearl-white skin, looking kind of like this vampire sheÆd heard lots about and whoa was it getting hot in here or what?

Her thoughts trailed off however, when the Joker turned around from his comically undersized swivel chair to face her.

ôHarley,ö he said sadly, looking very haggard.

ôYes PuddinÆ?ö

ôIÆm soà soà angry-sad. I mean, Arkham wasnÆt the nicest digs sure what with all the leaky pipes, the communal showers, and that nasty Bat always waiting around the corner, but those animals! It was my home. My place of zen. They-they blew up! You Maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell!ö Joker screamed as he frantically pinwheeled his arms before sagging.

ôYou alright Mistah J?ö Harley cautiously asked.

Her beloved shot her an angry look that sent flutters up her belly and Harley could only give a dopey grin in return.

He held the gaze for a few seconds before his infamous smile returned in full force.

ôAlright? IÆm better than alright! IÆm a man with a plan Harley. Sure I lost my house, but hell, no one else is going to use it now! More room for me.ö

ôYou mean us?ö

ôNo. Maybe. If you are very lucky Harley,ö Joker said.

ôNow, first things first. Do we have mooks? Goons? Lovable rogues that exist to be killed off for fun?ö

ôYeppers! Waiting right outside.ö

ôWonderful! Now Harley, be a dear and get me a phone.ö

ôWe, uh, kinda donÆt have power PuddinÆ. No phone,ö Harley admitted sheepishly.

Joker jumped up and got in her face before giving her a peck on her nose.

ôWell, IÆm sure one of those nice young men outside have one of those fancy doodads called cell phones,ö he said kindly.

ôWho do you want me to call?ö Harley asked shyly.

ôZhaoÆs House of Wok. They have some good Lo Mein, and I tell you Harley, planning a scheme to murder thousands is tough work on an empty stomach. Grab an order of that and some Kung Pao Shrimp. Oh, and call Firefly after that.ö

ôSure thing Mistah J!ö Harley saluted. ôWhat are you going to do?ö

ôI,ö Joker began dramatically, flourishing a finger like a sword before pointing at the air. ôam going to the little boyÆs room. Got some backage I should clear up.ö

Harley nodded quickly and turned to leave when the Joker called her back. She pirouetted with a graceful twirl to face her wonderful Joker when she found herself on her black, her face screaming in agony.

Mistah J was massaging his fist with a menacing looking grin as he snarled ôDonÆt hum such raucous ditties. Granny Joker would be ashamed.ö

ôWell, all I got to say Harley. Toodles! IÆll see you in a bit. Bring food so we can enjoy it together. You like candlelit dinners right? Soon IÆll give you one you wonÆt ever forget!ö

---

No excuses for this. I should have knocked this out faster, and trust me, I WILL finish this.

Edit: Last chapter <a href='http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6610264/8/' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>up on FFnet</a>

 

[Coelacanth]

damn, joker seems ticked off, but then again my knowledge of the DC universe is very limited.

 

[A Curious Stranger]

Just so you all know, I just realized I didn't do Poison Ivy or Two-Face, both of whom should have come before Joker. I'll go do that later.

After I watch the BTAS collection I just bought that uses those characters. After I watch a few, I'll get a better grasp on Nightwing, Batgirl, and Two-Face in particular.

 

[lcpoketoon]

Yes but what about the Mad Hatter also. He's always been my favorite among the rouges the one who desent into madness was caused by love.

 

[A Curious Stranger]

S'up guys. Finals are over and Ryuugi's little story gave me the motivation to actually do something. Enjoy.

---
After TerryÆs sojurn with the Rat King, Bruce gave an explicit approval of his ænighttime activities,Æ though the man made sure Terry would patrol only with him.

Nightwing and Robin were grabbing more sleep than they thought they would despite their patrol schedules and indeed for a while the Batfamily held hope the city would stay quiet until all of its insane inmates could be rounded up. That would prove not to be the case.

The first attack came from a direction even Batman had not truly considered. In all honesty, heÆd expected the Russian Mafiya or the Cartels to strike against their rivals. Instead, Chinatown streets ran with blood as Yakuza men took arms. The various Triad groups of Gotham held influence for decades. In recent years with JapanÆs interest in the city along with Wayne EnterpriseÆs ventures into the East, various Yakuza had fought for the honor, and future profit, of bringing Gotham under their fold. The Yamaguchi-gumi, as expected of the largest and most powerful of the Yakuza, had crushed all comers and made efforts to infiltrate the Asian populations of the city.

The dream never came much to the bitter disappointment of the Japanese. The city already had a glut of entrenched families, and they did not look kindly on newcomers. The Yamaguchi-gumi managed some success, taking a share in the sex trade and corporate crime, but they chomped at the bit for more, taking special interest in the various Triad groups who dominated counterfeiting and money laundering in particular. When news came of the arms buildup, the Yakuza had petitioned the mainland and received hefty wire transfers and some of their best men carefully smuggled to the United States. Sadao Higa led the men. In defiance of modern tradition, he went shirtless to the fight, letting his irezumi tattoos shine in the artificial lantern lights of Chinatown.

At the end of the night, almost the entirety of the East Side Dragons were dead, their blood sport rings laid to waste and the warehouses they fights took place in burnt to crisps. The Yakuza had been careful to choose a night in which only small bets would take place to ensure minimal future cash flow losses from prospective customers, but the strike did not have the demoralizing effect they had hoped. Instead, the various small time gangs all united under one banner in a single night, nationalism erasing the petty slights each gang might have had against one another.

The Ghost Dragons and Golden Dragoons took collective control with minimal friction. The Tongs of Gotham City, who had for a while been going legitimate under the permission of the China, took arms again. Working men by day, they became shifty thugs once more. The Ghost Dragons broke out their stash of hidden guns and spread them liberally. Men who never fired a gun before in their lives were given quick and dirty lessons while knives, nailbats, anything that could be used as a weapon were being made by what were normally drug runner and messengers for the Triads.

Nearly fifty men went out the following day, having heard hints of the YakuzaÆs new working headquarters.

---

ôThis is insane,ö Robin muttered at the height of one jump before releasing his grapple gunÆs grip and shooting out another.

ôI know right? Triads normally stay quiet, theyÆre not supposed to be the ones going in guns blazing,ö said Nightwing.

Bruce and Terry took the boat that night, racing to the docks where the Yakuza were thought to be. Bruce didnÆt bother to chastise his two sidekicks for spamming their open channel while Terry was too busy trying to figure out what to do.

Bruce fiddled with some buttons that Terry didnÆt recognize before speaking up. ôIÆve contacted Gordon. HeÆs sending a few men to make the arrests but he doesnÆt want to risk them during the shootout. The men are going in full riot gear but that wonÆt be enough. Our job tonight is to soften them up as much as possible before Gordon goes in for the arrests. He tells me the men have tear gas and rubber bullets, but they have shotguns and they will use them. Make sure they donÆt have the opportunityö

The line was silent for perhaps a minute or two more before Nightwing spoke ôDamn! WeÆre too late, original planÆs a bust.ö

BruceÆs ever present scowl grew deeper. Originally, the group had planned to intercept the Triads before they could reach the Yakuza. Nightwing and Robin would have thrown sleeping gas before forcibly knocking out anyone it didnÆt reach while he and Terry would have infiltrated the warehouses, eliminate the Yakuza presence before taking any data present on whatever computers would have been set up. Instead, the fight had already started which made things very, very complicated.

ôWorse news,ö Robin reported. ôIÆve just gotten my first look at the YakÆs. The foot soldiers on the ground are typical gangsters, maybe about twenty of them. Thing is, I see ex-military. Three four man fireteams, each with gas masks and integrated night vision. Probably former Airborne. No grenade launchers though, it looks like theyÆve all got M4Æs. Two snipers up on the roofs with plenty of cover for them. TheyÆre acting as lookout. No shots.ö

ôTriads took cover. I see a few bodies on the ground. A few look like theyÆve got a plan and want to move out and-shit theyÆre making a run for it. Gas or smoke is out. I toss those and all we get is a bunch of dead bodies.ö

Bruce had not been idle during the report. The boat raced through the water until its sturdy frame began to shudder and a general alarm sounded to inform its occupants that it would soon rise above water. ôThrow flashbangs as close to the Yakuza as you can. IÆm almost in position,ö Bruce snapped before speaking to Terry. ôLeft side. Red button. Press when I do.ö

Seeing Bruce slam his hand into a button moments after he finished, Terry quickly followed suit before his seat rocketed up into the air. Bruce snapped his grapple gun to a vantage point while Terry kicked in his rocket boots for more height. He took the extra seconds to assess the situation. A few of the Yakuza, in particular the military ones, were screaming on the pavement. The flashbangs thrown by Nightwing had probably overloaded their night vision, and rendered them blind far longer than they should have. Nightwing and Robin had both thrown smoke grenades before engaging the Triads en masse. He could see RobinÆs bo staff mercilessly punishing anybody moving while Nightwing used his acrobatics training to glide through the mass of bad guys, knocking out any target that presented itself.

Bruce landed first, slamming right behind one of the snipers. Before the man could even reach to grab his sidearm, Bruce lifted the manÆs head and slammed it into the warehouse roof. He hurled the manÆs weapons into the Gotham Bay before moving to his next target. Terry did the same before following the man from the opposite side of the area.

He couldnÆt help but admire Bruce. HeÆd never had the chance to see the man in his element even during the short time heÆd been rejuvenated by the Lazarus Pit. Bruce back then was still around careful, but here, he seemed to bowl through his enemies without care. Normally, he would have been far more stealthy, but with so many lives at stake, Bruce hurled himself out into the open to make himself a target.

Well, Terry could do that too. He spotted a series of rusting I-beams lying next to a shipping container. He barely flexed and the suit responded, letting him lift the heavy weight. He saw a group of men recovering from their temporary blindness and hurled the I-beam next to them, furthering wrecking their hearing before he hurled batarangs and jumped them. The men went down quickly, and to TerryÆs delight, his little demonstration of super strength had given him exactly what heÆd hoped for.

The military men had stripped off their hoods to make their eyes better acclimate, and as such were unprepared as Terry tossed a smoke pellet into their midst. His eyes immediately went to infrared before Terry methodically demolished the crew of trained men. He repeated the process a few more times before meeting up with Bruce. The other man flicked his head in approval before lifting a finger to his cowl. ôNightwing, status?ö

There was a brief moment of silence before a burst of quick static rang into both BatmenÆs headsets.

Without hesitation Bruce loped to where Nightwing and Robin had touched down, Terry following. ôStatic like that during a mission means heÆs busy. Right now it has to mean heÆs being attacked or else he wouldnÆt ignore me.ö

Terry and Bruce came on the sight of the main Yakuza and Triad fight. While Terry and Bruce had taken out the specially called heavy-hitters, the men who called Gotham home had rushed out, desperate to vent their hate. Nightwing and Robin should have been more than enough for the group of men, but he quickly saw their problem.

Nightwing was under heavy assault from a coordinated attack. Two sword wielding women sliced the air as they sought to cut the vigilante into pieces while Robin was under attack from a blonde bare-chested man. One of the women was in what looked like an antique set of samurai armor and red headband while the other was clad in a blue and red jumpsuit, along with a helmet shaped to look like a fierce cat.

Bruce jumped to help Robin, screaming ôKing Snake is mine! Take out Tsukuri or Lynx.ö

With names like that, he figured out the cathead was Lynx, and the samurai as Tsukuri. A snap of his wrist sent a few batarangs in the two womenÆs directions. They managed to notice however, and easily sent them flying away. That said, the distraction gave Nightwing some time to back away and catch his breath. Eager to buy Nightwing time, Terry rocketed forward again, far faster than either woman expected. Tsukuri was the closer, and he tackled the woman before forcing his boots to go even faster. On his way to the melee, heÆd position himself so that his flight would bowl over some of the warring Asians. As he snapped to in a perfect three point stance, the Japanese woman recovered and leapt forward with a lunge.

Terry sidestepped the attack before leaning in to strike. The woman read his intentions and gracefully backed off before hurtling shuriken into his face. Terry, eager to finish quickly, just let the sharp weapons simply bounce off his reinforced suit. Clearly surprised, Tsukuri backed away even further, trying to grab distance to gauge her options. Terry saw her reach into a side pouch and took that as his chance. His wrist discs flew towards the woman who merely grinned in triumph before sliding below his weapons to get inside his guard. Her sword appeared to be everywhere as Terry struggled to be ahead of the sharp blade.

He wasnÆt used to being attacked with a sword. Gotham thugs favored blackjacks and knives. Either incredibly heavy weapons that they telegraphed their moves with, or fast cutters that wouldnÆt do much against his suit. He could try and let his suit absorb the swordÆs cuts, but since the woman was in a costume and all, he didnÆt want to risk anything in case the katana was enchanted or something. Still, heÆd gone toe to toe with Curare. If he could beat the greatest assassin the League of Assassins had to offer but not beat a wisp of a woman like Tsukuri, heÆd never forgive himself.

HeÆd only ever won against Curare due to his environment though, now how toà of course! He snapped a few discs towards the womanÆs face once more. As she jerked aside to dodge the sharp weapons, Terry was the one to back off. He landed in the midst of a few crates that littered the warehouse bays and began to hurl them one by one at Tsukuri. Her blade easily cut through the hefty boxes, cementing TerryÆs worry of her blade. As he ran out, he tossed a batarang, smirking before detonating the explosive right before she could bat it aside. The low strength charge was still enough to disorient the woman at point blank range. Knowing he only had seconds, he kicked in his rocket boots once more (and then reminded himself to fill up them up somehow). Instead of going for a knockout blow, he slipped a finger beside her bandana and jerked it up, trying to ruin her vision.

The spirit gum Tsukuri used to attach her bandana securely resisted for a moment but weakened enough to slip one half over an eye before Terry kicked her away, taking care to tear her sword away from her. She didnÆt even bother to try and correct her vision but instead took a ready stance. Instead of rushing forward, Terry ripped out another pellet before hurtling it at her feat. The woman dove to the side, unsure what was contained within, but sure there was nothing good. The tear gas inside hissed free, and the slightest amount managed to irritate the womanÆs one exposed eye. Tsukuri was trained enough that she didnÆt lift a hand to soothe her eye but it was clear by the tears that she was affected.

Finally confident that heÆd weakened the woman enough, he moved in. Despite her disadvantages, the Japanese woman still deflected his punches and kicks, but Terry slowly inched forward, and forced Tsukuri to give ground and back away. Perfect. Her right foot landed on a shattered wooden plank, the remnants of one of the many crates heÆd tossed at her earlier. Her exposed eye widened as she was taken off balance just long enough for Terry to go in with a straight that knocked the wind out of her. As she instinctively curled to lessen the blow, Terry knocked her down with an axe kick, catching her skull and rattling her head. He was careful to catch her on her fall down just in case she hit the pavement hard enough to do permanent damage before cuffing the woman and lifting her bodily over his shoulder. HeÆd have to put her down near the others in case she managed to wake up early.

Despite incredible odds, Triad and Yakuza bodies littered the cement ground, each knocked out. A few looked to have knife wounds that needed to be cared for while some were obviously dead, having died in the brawl when the vigilantes could not reach them. Nightwing was on the verge of running Lynx off while King Snake was clearly breathing heavily, favoring his right side. Lynx managed to knock Nightwing down after a desperate rush and instead of trying to beat him, instead ran off into the night. Or at least that seemed like her plan.

Instead, Terry hurled a bola that caught her legs in midair before she fell with a thud. Nightwing nodded in appreciation before going off to aid Robin and Bruce. Terry unceremoniously dropped his cargo to do the same.

King Snake, finding himself surrounded on all sides by dangerous vigilantes sighed before giving up, lifting his hands in the air. Batman tossed a batarang, unwilling to get in range of the dangerous martial artist before calling in GordonÆs men.

ôNightwing and I will escort them to the prison. You two go back to the Cave. I have a feeling the other gangs are going to take this as the right time to fight. Grab as much rest as you can. YouÆll need it.ö

That statement turned out to be prophetic. The Ukrainians had flatly refused to join the Mafiya. Insulted by the idea that they should unite just as the old Soviet Union, the violent men had sent back the manÆs teeth and finger tips as a response. Yuri Dimitrov had not been impressed, and news of several Ukrainians being found dead with a single smoking hole through their foreheads made its way through the streets. Dozens of street gangs, afraid the sharks they had been swimming amongst would suddenly find them good meals had united under what was technically one gang, though each cell readied themselves to expect betrayal. The Italians had too much bad blood between themselves to even think about uniting. Falcone, Maroni, and Galante called in old favors between smaller famiglie and made their stances clear.

The storm was almost here.

---

Next up is Barbara Gordon. Oh, and Scarecrow I guess.

Only 2.7k words. Not impressive for such a long wait, but eh, there's more on the way.

 

[Flamewolf]

annoying formatting problems removed

After Terry's sojurn with the Rat King, Bruce gave an explicit approval of his 'nighttime activities,' though the man made sure Terry would patrol only with him.

Nightwing and Robin were grabbing more sleep than they thought they would despite their patrol schedules and indeed for a while the Batfamily held hope the city would stay quiet until all of its insane inmates could be rounded up. That would prove not to be the case.

The first attack came from a direction even Batman had not truly considered. In all honesty, he'd expected the Russian Mafia or the Cartels to strike against their rivals. Instead, Chinatown streets ran with blood as Yakuza men took arms. The various Triad groups of Gotham held influence for decades. In recent years with Japan's interest in the city along with Wayne Enterprise's ventures into the East, various Yakuza had fought for the honor, and future profit, of bringing Gotham under their fold. The Yamaguchi-gumi, as expected of the largest and most powerful of the Yakuza, had crushed all comers and made efforts to infiltrate the Asian populations of the city.

The dream never came much to the bitter disappointment of the Japanese. The city already had a glut of entrenched families, and they did not look kindly on newcomers. The Yamaguchi-gumi managed some success, taking a share in the sex trade and corporate crime, but they chomped at the bit for more, taking special interest in the various Triad groups who dominated counterfeiting and money laundering in particular. When news came of the arms buildup, the Yakuza had petitioned the mainland and received hefty wire transfers and some of their best men carefully smuggled to the United States. Sadao Higa led the men. In defiance of modern tradition, he went shirtless to the fight, letting his irezumi tattoos shine in the artificial lantern lights of Chinatown.

At the end of the night, almost the entirety of the East Side Dragons were dead, their blood sport rings laid to waste and the warehouses they fights took place in burnt to crisps. The Yakuza had been careful to choose a night in which only small bets would take place to ensure minimal future cash flow losses from prospective customers, but the strike did not have the demoralizing effect they had hoped. Instead, the various small time gangs all united under one banner in a single night, nationalism erasing the petty slights each gang might have had against one another.

The Ghost Dragons and Golden Dragoons took collective control with minimal friction. The Tongs of Gotham City, who had for a while been going legitimate under the permission of the China, took arms again. Working men by day, they became shifty thugs once more. The Ghost Dragons broke out their stash of hidden guns and spread them liberally. Men who never fired a gun before in their lives were given quick and dirty lessons while knives, nailbats, anything that could be used as a weapon were being made by what were normally drug runner and messengers for the Triads.

Nearly fifty men went out the following day, having heard hints of the Yakuza's new working headquarters.

---

"This is insane," Robin muttered at the height of one jump before releasing his grapple gun's grip and shooting out another.

"I know right? Triads normally stay quiet, they're not supposed to be the ones going in guns blazing," said Nightwing.

Bruce and Terry took the boat that night, racing to the docks where the Yakuza were thought to be. Bruce didn't bother to chastise his two sidekicks for spamming their open channel while Terry was too busy trying to figure out what to do.

Bruce fiddled with some buttons that Terry didn't recognize before speaking up. "I've contacted Gordon. He's sending a few men to make the arrests but he doesn't want to risk them during the shootout. The men are going in full riot gear but that won't be enough. Our job tonight is to soften them up as much as possible before Gordon goes in for the arrests. He tells me the men have tear gas and rubber bullets, but they have shotguns and they will use them. Make sure they don't have the opportunity"

The line was silent for perhaps a minute or two more before Nightwing spoke "Damn! We're too late, original plan's a bust."

Bruce's ever present scowl grew deeper. Originally, the group had planned to intercept the Triads before they could reach the Yakuza. Nightwing and Robin would have thrown sleeping gas before forcibly knocking out anyone it didn't reach while he and Terry would have infiltrated the warehouses, eliminate the Yakuza presence before taking any data present on whatever computers would have been set up. Instead, the fight had already started which made things very, very complicated.

"Worse news," Robin reported. "I've just gotten my first look at the Yak's. The foot soldiers on the ground are typical gangsters, maybe about twenty of them. Thing is, I see ex-military. Three four man fireteams, each with gas masks and integrated night vision. Probably former Airborne. No grenade launchers though, it looks like they've all got M4's. Two snipers up on the roofs with plenty of cover for them. They're acting as lookout. No shots."

"Triads took cover. I see a few bodies on the ground. A few look like they've got a plan and want to move out and-shit they're making a run for it. Gas or smoke is out. I toss those and all we get is a bunch of dead bodies."

Bruce had not been idle during the report. The boat raced through the water until its sturdy frame began to shudder and a general alarm sounded to inform its occupants that it would soon rise above water. "Throw flashbangs as close to the Yakuza as you can. I'm almost in position," Bruce snapped before speaking to Terry. "Left side. Red button. Press when I do."

Seeing Bruce slam his hand into a button moments after he finished, Terry quickly followed suit before his seat rocketed up into the air. Bruce snapped his grapple gun to a vantage point while Terry kicked in his rocket boots for more height. He took the extra seconds to assess the situation. A few of the Yakuza, in particular the military ones, were screaming on the pavement. The flashbangs thrown by Nightwing had probably overloaded their night vision, and rendered them blind far longer than they should have. Nightwing and Robin had both thrown smoke grenades before engaging the Triads en masse. He could see Robin's bo staff mercilessly punishing anybody moving while Nightwing used his acrobatics training to glide through the mass of bad guys, knocking out any target that presented itself.

Bruce landed first, slamming right behind one of the snipers. Before the man could even reach to grab his sidearm, Bruce lifted the man's head and slammed it into the warehouse roof. He hurled the man's weapons into the Gotham Bay before moving to his next target. Terry did the same before following the man from the opposite side of the area.

He couldn't help but admire Bruce. He'd never had the chance to see the man in his element even during the short time he'd been rejuvenated by the Lazarus Pit. Bruce back then was still around careful, but here, he seemed to bowl through his enemies without care. Normally, he would have been far more stealthy, but with so many lives at stake, Bruce hurled himself out into the open to make himself a target.

Well, Terry could do that too. He spotted a series of rusting I-beams lying next to a shipping container. He barely flexed and the suit responded, letting him lift the heavy weight. He saw a group of men recovering from their temporary blindness and hurled the I-beam next to them, furthering wrecking their hearing before he hurled batarangs and jumped them. The men went down quickly, and to Terry's delight, his little demonstration of super strength had given him exactly what he'd hoped for.

The military men had stripped off their hoods to make their eyes better acclimate, and as such were unprepared as Terry tossed a smoke pellet into their midst. His eyes immediately went to infrared before Terry methodically demolished the crew of trained men. He repeated the process a few more times before meeting up with Bruce. The other man flicked his head in approval before lifting a finger to his cowl. "Nightwing, status?"

There was a brief moment of silence before a burst of quick static rang into both Batmen's headsets.

Without hesitation Bruce loped to where Nightwing and Robin had touched down, Terry following. "Static like that during a mission means he's busy. Right now it has to mean he's being attacked or else he wouldn't ignore me."

Terry and Bruce came on the sight of the main Yakuza and Triad fight. While Terry and Bruce had taken out the specially called heavy-hitters, the men who called Gotham home had rushed out, desperate to vent their hate. Nightwing and Robin should have been more than enough for the group of men, but he quickly saw their problem.

Nightwing was under heavy assault from a coordinated attack. Two sword wielding women sliced the air as they sought to cut the vigilante into pieces while Robin was under attack from a blonde bare-chested man. One of the women was in what looked like an antique set of samurai armor and red headband while the other was clad in a blue and red jumpsuit, along with a helmet shaped to look like a fierce cat.

Bruce jumped to help Robin, screaming "King Snake is mine! Take out Tsukuri or Lynx."

With names like that, he figured out the cathead was Lynx, and the samurai as Tsukuri. A snap of his wrist sent a few batarangs in the two women's directions. They managed to notice however, and easily sent them flying away. That said, the distraction gave Nightwing some time to back away and catch his breath. Eager to buy Nightwing time, Terry rocketed forward again, far faster than either woman expected. Tsukuri was the closer, and he tackled the woman before forcing his boots to go even faster. On his way to the melee, he'd position himself so that his flight would bowl over some of the warring Asians. As he snapped to in a perfect three point stance, the Japanese woman recovered and leapt forward with a lunge.

Terry sidestepped the attack before leaning in to strike. The woman read his intentions and gracefully backed off before hurtling shuriken into his face. Terry, eager to finish quickly, just let the sharp weapons simply bounce off his reinforced suit. Clearly surprised, Tsukuri backed away even further, trying to grab distance to gauge her options. Terry saw her reach into a side pouch and took that as his chance. His wrist discs flew towards the woman who merely grinned in triumph before sliding below his weapons to get inside his guard. Her sword appeared to be everywhere as Terry struggled to be ahead of the sharp blade.

He wasn't used to being attacked with a sword. Gotham thugs favored blackjacks and knives. Either incredibly heavy weapons that they telegraphed their moves with, or fast cutters that wouldn't do much against his suit. He could try and let his suit absorb the sword's cuts, but since the woman was in a costume and all, he didn't want to risk anything in case the katana was enchanted or something. Still, he'd gone toe to toe with Curare. If he could beat the greatest assassin the League of Assassins had to offer but not beat a wisp of a woman like Tsukuri, he'd never forgive himself.

He'd only ever won against Curare due to his environment though, now how to of course! He snapped a few discs towards the woman's face once more. As she jerked aside to dodge the sharp weapons, Terry was the one to back off. He landed in the midst of a few crates that littered the warehouse bays and began to hurl them one by one at Tsukuri. Her blade easily cut through the hefty boxes, cementing Terry's worry of her blade. As he ran out, he tossed a batarang, smirking before detonating the explosive right before she could bat it aside. The low strength charge was still enough to disorient the woman at point blank range. Knowing he only had seconds, he kicked in his rocket boots once more (and then reminded himself to fill up them up somehow). Instead of going for a knockout blow, he slipped a finger beside her bandana and jerked it up, trying to ruin her vision.

The spirit gum Tsukuri used to attach her bandana securely resisted for a moment but weakened enough to slip one half over an eye before Terry kicked her away, taking care to tear her sword away from her. She didn't even bother to try and correct her vision but instead took a ready stance. Instead of rushing forward, Terry ripped out another pellet before hurtling it at her feat. The woman dove to the side, unsure what was contained within, but sure there was nothing good. The tear gas inside hissed free, and the slightest amount managed to irritate the woman's one exposed eye. Tsukuri was trained enough that she didn't lift a hand to soothe her eye but it was clear by the tears that she was affected.

Finally confident that he'd weakened the woman enough, he moved in. Despite her disadvantages, the Japanese woman still deflected his punches and kicks, but Terry slowly inched forward, and forced Tsukuri to give ground and back away. Perfect. Her right foot landed on a shattered wooden plank, the remnants of one of the many crates he'd tossed at her earlier. Her exposed eye widened as she was taken off balance just long enough for Terry to go in with a straight that knocked the wind out of her. As she instinctively curled to lessen the blow, Terry knocked her down with an axe kick, catching her skull and rattling her head. He was careful to catch her on her fall down just in case she hit the pavement hard enough to do permanent damage before cuffing the woman and lifting her bodily over his shoulder. He'd have to put her down near the others in case she managed to wake up early.

Despite incredible odds, Triad and Yakuza bodies littered the cement ground, each knocked out. A few looked to have knife wounds that needed to be cared for while some were obviously dead, having died in the brawl when the vigilantes could not reach them. Nightwing was on the verge of running Lynx off while King Snake was clearly breathing heavily, favoring his right side. Lynx managed to knock Nightwing down after a desperate rush and instead of trying to beat him, instead ran off into the night. Or at least that seemed like her plan.

Instead, Terry hurled a bola that caught her legs in midair before she fell with a thud. Nightwing nodded in appreciation before going off to aid Robin and Bruce. Terry unceremoniously dropped his cargo to do the same.

King Snake, finding himself surrounded on all sides by dangerous vigilantes sighed before giving up, lifting his hands in the air. Batman tossed a batarang, unwilling to get in range of the dangerous martial artist before calling in Gordon's men.

"Nightwing and I will escort them to the prison. You two go back to the Cave. I have a feeling the other gangs are going to take this as the right time to fight. Grab as much rest as you can. You'll need it."

That statement turned out to be prophetic. The Ukrainians had flatly refused to join the Mafia. Insulted by the idea that they should unite just as the old Soviet Union, the violent men had sent back the man's teeth and finger tips as a response. Yuri Dimitrov had not been impressed, and news of several Ukrainians being found dead with a single smoking hole through their foreheads made its way through the streets. Dozens of street gangs, afraid the sharks they had been swimming amongst would suddenly find them good meals had united under what was technically one gang, though each cell readied themselves to expect betrayal. The Italians had too much bad blood between themselves to even think about uniting. Falcone, Maroni, and Galante called in old favors between smaller famiglie and made their stances clear.

The storm was almost here.

 

[A Curious Stranger]

Ffffuck is it still doing that? God fucking damn it.

 

[Flamewolf]

my advice copy and paste to notepad and replace all them ms word apostrophes and quotations with the notepad versions

 

[A Curious Stranger]

It was three thirty in the goddamn morning when Barbara Gordon woke up from her sleep. Used to early nights, she was up immediately when the campus-wide alert rang through her dorm. Her roommate Kathy Kane rubbed sleep out of eyes as she yawned "'s going on?"

Barbara turned to face her to answer when the intercom rang again, giving her the answer.

"A bright and early morning to you students. In case you do not know my voice, allow me to introduce myself. I am known as Dr. Jonathon Crane, though I am sure you are more familiar with my media persona Scarecrow. I am just delighted to tell you all that you have been chosen for a social experiment! Be advised that those who ate from the school cafeteria for dinner and lunch will be our test group, and the others our control!"

Barbara's heart sank at the voice.

"You see, within your various salads, sandwiches, hamburgers, etc and etcà there was a bit of time delayed formula. Brilliant piece of engineering really. Without it being in aerosol form, it was far more concentrated and thus took me quite some time to dilute it enough for you. Anyway, within oh, say twenty minutes, you will find that your mental state will change. You may find yourself clawing at the walls. Assaulting your friends. Screaming yourself hoarse. Now I am certain a few of you have had the initiative to contact the police. Allow me to say that I have also locked every door and have place a lovely varieties of common explosives all over, sayà your doors. The entryways. Your classrooms. In fact I don't believe it an exaggeration to say this entire campus has been rigged to explode."

Kathy looked pale, Barbara noticed. Then realization struck like a thunderbolt. Barbara had cooked lunch today before heating up leftovers for dinner. Kathy on the other hand had gone to grab a salad on her way back from Criminology.

"Now what will you do everyone? Will you defend yourself against maddened hordes? Will you ignore their cries for help? What are you in the dark?"

Barbara looked for options as Kathy began to sob. The fear solutions Crane worked hadn't kicked in yet, but with Kathy about to break down, her fears would consume her instantly.

"Let's find out."

"Kathy, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here. You'll be okay. You won't hurt me. You're my best friend,ö Barbara soothed.

The beautiful blonde nodded as she continued to cry. "I never thought it would be like this. I thoughtà"

"It's okay,ö Barbara repeated. "I'm here. I won't leave you."

"Really?"

"No, I won't," Barbara reassured before a quick press of a pressure point had Kathy unconscious.

"I'm so sorry," Barbara whispered, knowing the girl couldn't hear her. "But it's better this way."

With Kathy unconscious, Batgirl could go out and stop Crane. She wouldn't be able to harm anyone. But Barbara had first hand experience of what fear toxin could do even to the senseless.

She didn't exactly keep her costume in the closet, but Bruce Wayne had sent her a small dresser just barely big enough to fit in her dorm. It was hand-crafted and beautiful, but Barbara was more grateful for the hidden compartment. It was hidden so well the crease was invisible to the naked eye, but Barbara managed and slipped into the armored bodysuit.

As Batgirl, the first thing she did was get on the open comline the Batfamily held to report. Alfred was the one to listen and her heart sank as he told her that Bruce was all the way across town. He did promise her backup as soon as possible however. Though she held the bare basics in her utility belt, she was very short on supplies in her costume. Batgirl would have to wait until help arrived before she could do anything. She didn't want to risk setting off any explosions.

She sat next to her friend, watching her start to shiver. Batgirl's right hand grabbed hold of one hand and used her left to run it down the girl's clenched fist.

"It's okay. I'm here, I'm here. It'll be okay Kathy. Just hang on."

---

Robin and Terry had only just gotten back to the Cave when Alfred showed up. As automated clamps reached out to stabilize the boat and refuel it,

"Masters Timothy and Terry, a problem has come up. Miss Gordon requests aid at her university. It seems the Scarecrow has infiltrated the school grounds."

He explained further as Tim and Terry both swabbed their wounds with disinfectants, cleaners, and the like before wrapping bandages around themselves. Tim was far worse off than Terry, whose suit had protected him from everything Tsukuri had to offer. Tim had taken a few heavy hits from King Snake, but had luckily avoided anything that would take him out from the fight.

Alfred had been busy creating antidotes for the fear toxin. He handed them a series of vials and syringes, explaining their dosages as he did so. "Of course,ö Alfred concluded "if the formula has drastically changed, then it's quite likely this will not be completely effective. At best there may only be a slight relief from the pain, at worst it may be completely ineffective, possibly even heighten the pain. When you find a victim, send me data readouts or blood sample results as soon as possible."

Both Tim and Terry cleared space on their belts for the antidotes and set out on the plane. Tim, as the one most familiar with the jet, did the pre-flight checks and set the destination before the two flew out. Minutes later when the duo reached the University, Robin set its computers on scanning for mines and explosives. He linked the jet's computers to hid heads up display as did Terry with considerably more difficulty considering the fact that his suit's computers were too advanced to properly interfaced with the archaic systems.

"That's weird. As far as I can tell, Scarecrow is alone. He's not exactly the toughest guy around when it comes to hand and hand, so normally he hides behind some beefy guys," Robin explained to Terry.

"Soàwhat? Should we split up?" Terry asked though he felt embarrassed at the fact he was relying on his junior. "The campus is big.ö

"It depends. Scarecrow likes to have a personal touch, so he might actually be in the dorms. But since he's alone and knows we're probably on the way, he might be anywhere. If he's watching on the cameras, he might be in security rooms. Let's decide once we reach Batgirl."

Yeah, that wasn't a meeting Terry was looking forward to very much. Last time the Commissioner had gotten involved with him, she'd been actively trying to bring him to justice, thinking him a murderer. If she was that hard then, well going to be that hard, he had no clue what she would be like now.

The two hovered over the dorm Batgirl was supposed to live in. Even from their high vantage point, the various hoots and howls of the sick population below could be heard when they opened their cockpits to the night sky. When Barbara Gordon's room had been assigned, Bruce had ensured she would have a window for easy entry and escapes. The two vigilantes took advantage and snuck in and were greeted by the sight of a tense looking Batgirl and a trembling blonde who was crying out in her sleep.

Robin looked ready to toss the antidote before Terry put an arm to block him. He ignored the confused and dirty looks from his comrades before carefully drawing blood, then used his onboard computers to scan her blood. As the test results were being made, he made the go-ahead gesture to Robin. Thankfully, a few seconds after the injection, the crying girl's fit subsided and she fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Terry radioed the successful results to the Cave before turning his attention to Batgirl. He couldn't really tell under the hood, but the Commissioner was actually pretty hot. Well, was hot. Whatever. He did not want to have those kinds of thoughts in his head because honestly, his life was screwed up enough already.

"Who's this?" Batgirl asked Robin. "Al-someone told me there was going to be backup but-"

"This is him," Tim interjected.

"Nice to meet you I'm Batman,ö Terry said before extending a hand.

At her confused look he clarified "A few decades in the future anyway."

Batgirl shot Robin an æis he serious?' look before turning her attention back to him.

"Right, well, um," she started, taken off guard by the time-traveler.

"You're the one who knows this place best Batgirl. Where do you think Scarecrow is?" Robin asked.

"That's not the important part right now," Batgirl said before asking them how much antidote they carried. After they answered she nodded in approval before telling them they had to get the antidote circulated in the school sprinkler system.

"Since you don't have enough to dose them one by one, it's our only option. I am not letting that maniac having his way here. These people are my friends. We help them first before anything else."

The other two agreed before asking about the teachers. Unfortunately, a great deal of them lived off campus, and nothing could be done about them. Along with the various fraternities, sororities, not to mention the countless students who drove to school from Gotham, not all of them could be reached. All they could hope for was to alert the hospitals to any student or faculty not actually present in school and hope the antidotes would arrive on time.

"Sprinklers are in the basement." Batgirl said.

The three made their way down as quickly as they could. Scarecrow had apparently been bluffing about the explosives at each room but the group's collective hearts sank at the obvious sight of a plastic explosive staring them in the face once they reached the water control system of the building.

"Worse news, there's a lot more hooked up that you can't see," Terry confirmed with his suit's eyes.

"Frightening isn't it? To come so close, yet to see that you're so far away. Welcome to school. I will be your teacher today. Now I see we have a new face, please introduce yourself to the class."

Terry ignored the voice on the intercom as he boosted his motion trackers to the maximum. He forcibly disabled any limitations on the x-ray vision of his visors, straining to see as much as possible. Damn, damn, damn this man.

"Guys, I think I see him."

"Where?ö the two others demanded.

"Another building. I don't know what it's called, but I can go there. I'll go alone, you two try and disable the wires. When I take down Scarecrow, I should be able to disable whatever systems he's set up."

"Are you crazy?" Robin hissed. "You can't go alone. One of us is coming with you."

Terry hesitated. Backup was always nice but this was different. If any of the two people in front of him got hurt, or worse killed, he might not even exist in the future. He had to play everything carefully. Dr. Fate's words about the fragile timelines, all the consequences of his actions, and the destruction of history's immune system echoed through his mind. There was no other choice. He had to go alone.

"Batman and Nightwing should be here anytime soon. Until then, it's our job to make sure everyone gets out okay. That means both of you work on this until they get here with the equipment we need to cut through. Besides, I need to breath his gas right? Built-in rebreather. I'll be fine," he tried to assure.

Before either of them could protest he vanished, turning on his camo to make sure they wouldn't follow. He hadn't told them Scarecrow's location either. He flew up, keeping on his x-ray vision the whole time, unwilling to be tricked.

Scarecrow turned out to be incredibly cocky. Hearing Terry come to his location, he stepped forward into the light to mock him.

"So the new boy eh? Never quite introduced yourself did you?"

Terry ignored the man once more before leaping forward. His rebreather had already come up and he burst through the fear gas like it wasn't even there.

öVery impressive young man."

"Shut up,ö he snarled lifting the man bodily with one hand. He slammed the skinny man down onto the tiled floors before putting a boot on the psychopath's throat. The man raised his arms to Terry's leg to try and pry his foot off.

"How do you disable the explosives?"

"You can't seriously expect me to tell you do you? What will you do? Dangle me out of a rooftop? Inflict bodily harm? I know how you people work and how effective your methods are better than yourselves! But no need to worry. The master control switch to all of my systems are right there. Two rooms over in fact."

"And why are you telling me this after you just told me how worthless it would be to interrogate you?" Terry demanded, placing the slightest bit of pressure on the former teacher's throat.

"Because I find that the slightest bit of hope makes your fears taste that much sweeter."

Terry screamed and fell as every nerve on his body was set alight. Scarecrow's hand had just stabbed with something that had gone through his suit's armor like a hot knife through butter. In fact, the unknown weapon was somehow shutting off his suit's displays, locking each limb down and collapsing the rigid frame it normally formed. His suit pooled around Terry, and a gasp of cool Gotham air told him his rebreather had failed.

The Scarecrow lifted himself up before patting dirt off his already dirty suit before straightening the noose that served as his tie.

"Very arrogant of you. Now then, what shall I do with you? Hmm yes, a concentrated dose I think. Not enough to kill you immediately of course, where's the fun in that?"

Without ceremony, the man lifted his right hand, swapped out a canister for another before thrusting the aerosol shooter in Terry's face. A long burst of gas streamed out, and Terry's attempt to hold his breath failed as the Scarecrow slammed a foot into his stomach, forcing his body to wheeze.

"Let's make this special shall we? I recently acquired a gift from one of my fellow inmates at the Asylum. An intellectual, though admittedly one with a terrible vice. Here it is!" Scarecrow jubilantly cried as he thrust a raggedy hat into Terry's face.

"I'm not sure if you recognize this, but dear old Jervis uses this as a very crude nerve control device though recently he's refined it to make it respond to more cerebral forces. Emotions in particular. Unfortunately the poor man seems to think happiness is all that people need. Well, this little hat however should be proof enough that the opposite is true."

The hat was carefully placed on Terry's head before he tapped a button on the hat and it began to contract.

"Painful I know, but this requires skin-to-skin contact. I'm sure it won't hurt too much."

Terry's screams grew even louder as sharp needles sank deep into the suit before puncturing his helmet. He screamed as needles sank through flesh and bone before coming to a stop.

"Let's see what makes you tick."

Everything went black.

---

Jonathon Crane looked at the skinny little figure lying in front of him before grasping hold and began to drag the man. Dead weight certainly earned its name he mused. He grunted to lift the figure into the laundry chute right after placing the tiny electronic he'd been given on the fabric. He watched the already miniscule device flatten out until it couldn't be seen as the little bug matched the coloring of the advanced suit perfectly.

Just yesterday he'd been given everything in his dreams to destroy his former place of employment as long as he promised to place the odd thing onto any new vigilantes he'd encounter. Well he'd certainly kept to his side of the bargain. Now all he had to do was disappear. Scarecrow tossed in a compact walkie-talkie after the strange Batman wannabe before trotting off to make himself scarce. Though he technically was supposed to leave the man alone after doing his job, what kind of scientist would he be if he let such a prime research specimen vanish? At the very least he needed audio notes.

He let himself wonder just who the men that had approached him worked for before dismissing such thoughts. He'd stayed in the costumed business long enough to know asking questions like that only led to suffering.

---

Terry was screaming in his dreams before he woke up on the train. He jerked himself awake before rubbing his eyes. Man, he'd been having a weird dream. What was it about anyway? Something aboutà well he couldn't remember. It wasn't important if he couldn't remember right?

The unconscious Jokerz at his feet didn't really add to the dÚcor of the train, but he was almost at his stop. He kicked one in the head before moving out, grabbing hold of his bag. Matty and mom would be waiting inà no wait, he was living with his dad. After the divorce, mom had palmed him off on the æbrilliant scientist' in hopes his attitude would soften after seeing how the intelligent lived big in life. He snorted. Yeah, that was exactly how his dad lived. So smart he stayed late at work all night. So smart he couldn't even remember to keep food in the fridge for his son. So smart he left his oldest child hanging when he needed to go to court.

It was late outside. A lot darker than he thought it would be. The McGinnis head lived in a fairly upscale apartment close to the train so it wasn't much of a walk. Once he reached the apartment building he slowly moved up the stairs. The elevators seemed trashed for some reason.

Near his floor he stopped to look at the Jokerz at the staircase. Why hadn't security kicked themà were they here for him?

"Can't come up here Tiny," one said before Terry punched him in the stomach. The other two next to him panicked and before they could react, Terry grabbed one and slammed him into the steel railing that worked as a handhold. The last he grabbed in a chokehold before roughly letting go. Jokerz normally moved in bigger packs then three though, what were they doing?

He heard a scuffle near his dad's place and- DAD!

He moved faster than he thought he ever could only to see Warren McGinnis being pummeled by a group of dark suited Jokerz (suits? Since when did Jokerz dress so nicely) but it didn't matter because that was his goddamn Dad those assholes trying to kill.

"Hey! I'm the one you want isn't it? Come on!" Terry screamed before tackling the closest one. He fought dirtier than he'd ever done, biting deep into the man's thighs as he went down. He took a billyclub from the sharply dressed man's holster before slamming it deep into the man's kidneys. Too angry and scared to think, he moved onto the next one only this Joker was far stronger than the last, either that or more prepared since he cracked Terry over the head with a few strong blows with a joke rubber chicken loaded with steel balls. He wheezed and was about to pass out but he managed to hook an arm around the man's throat and squeeze until the other two grabbed hold and held him down to the ground.

"Dad!" he screamed as Warren lifted a hand, obviously begging for help. "Dad!" he continued, never once ceasing his cries as Warren McGinnis, his only father, was punched again and again until blood and pristine teeth littered the floor. The bastards trying to kill them humiliated the man with a Glasgow grin before stabbing the middle-aged scientist in his belly with a wicked sharp knife and forced Terry to watch blood gush onto the floor.

Terry McGinnis screamed again and again, his howls not ceasing. In frustration, the two men holding him down slammed him into the hardwood of his father's living room again and again until something cracked and Terry was sure he was swallowing teeth. When the verge of passing out, the Jokerz finally released him before spitting on his bleeding skull. The men were spray painting the apartment, their grim faces looking odd when compared to the jocular message the graffiti was trying to convey. Joker gangmarks had never seemed so macabre before and it only grew worse when a husky Joker with a curly red wig laughed in Terry's face before they all left.

Knowing his Dad had only moments left, Terry forced his unresponsive body to crawl to the greatest man he'd ever known but never cared to acknowledge until today. His mouth ran red and Terry was constantly spitting bubbles and leaving filthy crimson tracks on his shirt and letterman jacket before reaching the dying man.

"Dad," Terry could only mumble.

"Tàerry," the man slurred, in too much pain to do much else.

Bruised eyes tried to focus on Terry's face before flinching as he felt tears drop onto his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry Dad. I should have stopped this. Once we get better, I'll never act up again. I'll do everything you ask. I'll study, I won't fight, I won't argue ever again just LIVE!"

"Terryà"

Terry leaned in knowing this would be the last words of Warren McGinnis' life.

"Y-youà you should have been earlier. You couldà you should have SAVED ME!"

That night a piece of Terry McGinnis' soul ripped itself apart. With a howl even the demons of hell would have pitied, Terry wept over the body of his father.

His old life was gone.

His world had shattered.

Nothing would be right ever again.

---

End Chapter 10

 

[Flamewolf]

apparently some of them quotations got missed. and i totally forgot to mention the "..."

It was three thirty in the goddamn morning when Barbara Gordon woke up from her sleep. Used to early nights, she was up immediately when the campus-wide alert rang through her dorm. Her roommate Kathy Kane rubbed sleep out of eyes as she yawned "'s going on?"

Barbara turned to face her to answer when the intercom rang again, giving her the answer.

"A bright and early morning to you students. In case you do not know my voice, allow me to introduce myself. I am known as Dr. Jonathon Crane, though I am sure you are more familiar with my media persona Scarecrow. I am just delighted to tell you all that you have been chosen for a social experiment! Be advised that those who ate from the school cafeteria for dinner and lunch will be our test group, and the others our control!"

Barbara's heart sank at the voice.

"You see, within your various salads, sandwiches, hamburgers, etc and etc... there was a bit of time delayed formula. Brilliant piece of engineering really. Without it being in aerosol form, it was far more concentrated and thus took me quite some time to dilute it enough for you. Anyway, within oh, say twenty minutes, you will find that your mental state will change. You may find yourself clawing at the walls. Assaulting your friends. Screaming yourself hoarse. Now I am certain a few of you have had the initiative to contact the police. Allow me to say that I have also locked every door and have place a lovely varieties of common explosives all over, say... your doors. The entryways. Your classrooms. In fact I don't believe it an exaggeration to say this entire campus has been rigged to explode."

Kathy looked pale, Barbara noticed. Then realization struck like a thunderbolt. Barbara had cooked lunch today before heating up leftovers for dinner. Kathy on the other hand had gone to grab a salad on her way back from Criminology.

"Now what will you do everyone? Will you defend yourself against maddened hordes? Will you ignore their cries for help? What are you in the dark?"

Barbara looked for options as Kathy began to sob. The fear solutions Crane worked hadn't kicked in yet, but with Kathy about to break down, her fears would consume her instantly.

"Let's find out."

"Kathy, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here. You'll be okay. You won't hurt me. You're my best friend," Barbara soothed.

The beautiful blonde nodded as she continued to cry. "I never thought it would be like this. I thought..."

"It's okay," Barbara repeated. "I'm here. I won't leave you."

"Really?"

"No, I won't," Barbara reassured before a quick press of a pressure point had Kathy unconscious.

"I'm so sorry," Barbara whispered, knowing the girl couldn't hear her. "But it's better this way."

With Kathy unconscious, Batgirl could go out and stop Crane. She wouldn't be able to harm anyone. But Barbara had first hand experience of what fear toxin could do even to the senseless.

She didn't exactly keep her costume in the closet, but Bruce Wayne had sent her a small dresser just barely big enough to fit in her dorm. It was hand-crafted and beautiful, but Barbara was more grateful for the hidden compartment. It was hidden so well the crease was invisible to the naked eye, but Barbara managed and slipped into the armored bodysuit.

As Batgirl, the first thing she did was get on the open comline the Batfamily held to report. Alfred was the one to listen and her heart sank as he told her that Bruce was all the way across town. He did promise her backup as soon as possible however. Though she held the bare basics in her utility belt, she was very short on supplies in her costume. Batgirl would have to wait until help arrived before she could do anything. She didn't want to risk setting off any explosions.

She sat next to her friend, watching her start to shiver. Batgirl's right hand grabbed hold of one hand and used her left to run it down the girl's clenched fist.

"It's okay. I'm here, I'm here. It'll be okay Kathy. Just hang on."

---

Robin and Terry had only just gotten back to the Cave when Alfred showed up. As automated clamps reached out to stabilize the boat and refuel it,

"Masters Timothy and Terry, a problem has come up. Miss Gordon requests aid at her university. It seems the Scarecrow has infiltrated the school grounds."

He explained further as Tim and Terry both swabbed their wounds with disinfectants, cleaners, and the like before wrapping bandages around themselves. Tim was far worse off than Terry, whose suit had protected him from everything Tsukuri had to offer. Tim had taken a few heavy hits from King Snake, but had luckily avoided anything that would take him out from the fight.

Alfred had been busy creating antidotes for the fear toxin. He handed them a series of vials and syringes, explaining their dosages as he did so. "Of course," Alfred concluded "if the formula has drastically changed, then it's quite likely this will not be completely effective. At best there may only be a slight relief from the pain, at worst it may be completely ineffective, possibly even heighten the pain. When you find a victim, send me data readouts or blood sample results as soon as possible."

Both Tim and Terry cleared space on their belts for the antidotes and set out on the plane. Tim, as the one most familiar with the jet, did the pre-flight checks and set the destination before the two flew out. Minutes later when the duo reached the University, Robin set its computers on scanning for mines and explosives. He linked the jet's computers to hid heads up display as did Terry with considerably more difficulty considering the fact that his suit's computers were too advanced to properly interfaced with the archaic systems.

"That's weird. As far as I can tell, Scarecrow is alone. He's not exactly the toughest guy around when it comes to hand and hand, so normally he hides behind some beefy guys," Robin explained to Terry.

"So...what? Should we split up?" Terry asked though he felt embarrassed at the fact he was relying on his junior. "The campus is big."

"It depends. Scarecrow likes to have a personal touch, so he might actually be in the dorms. But since he's alone and knows we're probably on the way, he might be anywhere. If he's watching on the cameras, he might be in security rooms. Let's decide once we reach Batgirl."

Yeah, that wasn't a meeting Terry was looking forward to very much. Last time the Commissioner had gotten involved with him, she'd been actively trying to bring him to justice, thinking him a murderer. If she was that hard then, well going to be that hard, he had no clue what she would be like now.

The two hovered over the dorm Batgirl was supposed to live in. Even from their high vantage point, the various hoots and howls of the sick population below could be heard when they opened their cockpits to the night sky. When Barbara Gordon's room had been assigned, Bruce had ensured she would have a window for easy entry and escapes. The two vigilantes took advantage and snuck in and were greeted by the sight of a tense looking Batgirl and a trembling blonde who was crying out in her sleep.

Robin looked ready to toss the antidote before Terry put an arm to block him. He ignored the confused and dirty looks from his comrades before carefully drawing blood, then used his onboard computers to scan her blood. As the test results were being made, he made the go-ahead gesture to Robin. Thankfully, a few seconds after the injection, the crying girl's fit subsided and she fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Terry radioed the successful results to the Cave before turning his attention to Batgirl. He couldn't really tell under the hood, but the Commissioner was actually pretty hot. Well, was hot. Whatever. He did not want to have those kinds of thoughts in his head because honestly, his life was screwed up enough already.

"Who's this?" Batgirl asked Robin. "Al-someone told me there was going to be backup but-"

"This is him," Tim interjected.

"Nice to meet you I'm Batman," Terry said before extending a hand.

At her confused look he clarified "A few decades in the future anyway."

Batgirl shot Robin an ÔÇÿis he serious?' look before turning her attention back to him.

"Right, well, um," she started, taken off guard by the time-traveler.

"You're the one who knows this place best Batgirl. Where do you think Scarecrow is?" Robin asked.

"That's not the important part right now," Batgirl said before asking them how much antidote they carried. After they answered she nodded in approval before telling them they had to get the antidote circulated in the school sprinkler system.

"Since you don't have enough to dose them one by one, it's our only option. I am not letting that maniac having his way here. These people are my friends. We help them first before anything else."

The other two agreed before asking about the teachers. Unfortunately, a great deal of them lived off campus, and nothing could be done about them. Along with the various fraternities, sororities, not to mention the countless students who drove to school from Gotham, not all of them could be reached. All they could hope for was to alert the hospitals to any student or faculty not actually present in school and hope the antidotes would arrive on time.

"Sprinklers are in the basement." Batgirl said.

The three made their way down as quickly as they could. Scarecrow had apparently been bluffing about the explosives at each room but the group's collective hearts sank at the obvious sight of a plastic explosive staring them in the face once they reached the water control system of the building.

"Worse news, there's a lot more hooked up that you can't see," Terry confirmed with his suit's eyes.

"Frightening isn't it? To come so close, yet to see that you're so far away. Welcome to school. I will be your teacher today. Now I see we have a new face, please introduce yourself to the class."

Terry ignored the voice on the intercom as he boosted his motion trackers to the maximum. He forcibly disabled any limitations on the x-ray vision of his visors, straining to see as much as possible. Damn, damn, damn this man.

"Guys, I think I see him."

"Where?" the two others demanded.

"Another building. I don't know what it's called, but I can go there. I'll go alone, you two try and disable the wires. When I take down Scarecrow, I should be able to disable whatever systems he's set up."

"Are you crazy?" Robin hissed. "You can't go alone. One of us is coming with you."

Terry hesitated. Backup was always nice but this was different. If any of the two people in front of him got hurt, or worse killed, he might not even exist in the future. He had to play everything carefully. Dr. Fate's words about the fragile timelines, all the consequences of his actions, and the destruction of history's immune system echoed through his mind. There was no other choice. He had to go alone.

"Batman and Nightwing should be here anytime soon. Until then, it's our job to make sure everyone gets out okay. That means both of you work on this until they get here with the equipment we need to cut through. Besides, I need to breath his gas right? Built-in rebreather. I'll be fine," he tried to assure.

Before either of them could protest he vanished, turning on his camo to make sure they wouldn't follow. He hadn't told them Scarecrow's location either. He flew up, keeping on his x-ray vision the whole time, unwilling to be tricked.

Scarecrow turned out to be incredibly cocky. Hearing Terry come to his location, he stepped forward into the light to mock him.

"So the new boy eh? Never quite introduced yourself did you?"

Terry ignored the man once more before leaping forward. His rebreather had already come up and he burst through the fear gas like it wasn't even there.

"Very impressive young man."

"Shut up," he snarled lifting the man bodily with one hand. He slammed the skinny man down onto the tiled floors before putting a boot on the psychopath's throat. The man raised his arms to Terry's leg to try and pry his foot off.

"How do you disable the explosives?"

"You can't seriously expect me to tell you do you? What will you do? Dangle me out of a rooftop? Inflict bodily harm? I know how you people work and how effective your methods are better than yourselves! But no need to worry. The master control switch to all of my systems are right there. Two rooms over in fact."

"And why are you telling me this after you just told me how worthless it would be to interrogate you?" Terry demanded, placing the slightest bit of pressure on the former teacher's throat.

"Because I find that the slightest bit of hope makes your fears taste that much sweeter."

Terry screamed and fell as every nerve on his body was set alight. Scarecrow's hand had just stabbed with something that had gone through his suit's armor like a hot knife through butter. In fact, the unknown weapon was somehow shutting off his suit's displays, locking each limb down and collapsing the rigid frame it normally formed. His suit pooled around Terry, and a gasp of cool Gotham air told him his rebreather had failed.

The Scarecrow lifted himself up before patting dirt off his already dirty suit before straightening the noose that served as his tie.

"Very arrogant of you. Now then, what shall I do with you? Hmm yes, a concentrated dose I think. Not enough to kill you immediately of course, where's the fun in that?"

Without ceremony, the man lifted his right hand, swapped out a canister for another before thrusting the aerosol shooter in Terry's face. A long burst of gas streamed out, and Terry's attempt to hold his breath failed as the Scarecrow slammed a foot into his stomach, forcing his body to wheeze.

"Let's make this special shall we? I recently acquired a gift from one of my fellow inmates at the Asylum. An intellectual, though admittedly one with a terrible vice. Here it is!" Scarecrow jubilantly cried as he thrust a raggedy hat into Terry's face.

"I'm not sure if you recognize this, but dear old Jervis uses this as a very crude nerve control device though recently he's refined it to make it respond to more cerebral forces. Emotions in particular. Unfortunately the poor man seems to think happiness is all that people need. Well, this little hat however should be proof enough that the opposite is true."

The hat was carefully placed on Terry's head before he tapped a button on the hat and it began to contract.

"Painful I know, but this requires skin-to-skin contact. I'm sure it won't hurt too much."

Terry's screams grew even louder as sharp needles sank deep into the suit before puncturing his helmet. He screamed as needles sank through flesh and bone before coming to a stop.

"Let's see what makes you tick."

Everything went black.

---

Jonathon Crane looked at the skinny little figure lying in front of him before grasping hold and began to drag the man. Dead weight certainly earned its name he mused. He grunted to lift the figure into the laundry chute right after placing the tiny electronic he'd been given on the fabric. He watched the already miniscule device flatten out until it couldn't be seen as the little bug matched the coloring of the advanced suit perfectly.

Just yesterday he'd been given everything in his dreams to destroy his former place of employment as long as he promised to place the odd thing onto any new vigilantes he'd encounter. Well he'd certainly kept to his side of the bargain. Now all he had to do was disappear. Scarecrow tossed in a compact walkie-talkie after the strange Batman wannabe before trotting off to make himself scarce. Though he technically was supposed to leave the man alone after doing his job, what kind of scientist would he be if he let such a prime research specimen vanish? At the very least he needed audio notes.

He let himself wonder just who the men that had approached him worked for before dismissing such thoughts. He'd stayed in the costumed business long enough to know asking questions like that only led to suffering.

---

Terry was screaming in his dreams before he woke up on the train. He jerked himself awake before rubbing his eyes. Man, he'd been having a weird dream. What was it about anyway? Something about... well he couldn't remember. It wasn't important if he couldn't remember right?

The unconscious Jokerz at his feet didn't really add to the d?®cor of the train, but he was almost at his stop. He kicked one in the head before moving out, grabbing hold of his bag. Matty and mom would be waiting in... no wait, he was living with his dad. After the divorce, mom had palmed him off on the ÔÇÿbrilliant scientist' in hopes his attitude would soften after seeing how the intelligent lived big in life. He snorted. Yeah, that was exactly how his dad lived. So smart he stayed late at work all night. So smart he couldn't even remember to keep food in the fridge for his son. So smart he left his oldest child hanging when he needed to go to court.

It was late outside. A lot darker than he thought it would be. The McGinnis head lived in a fairly upscale apartment close to the train so it wasn't much of a walk. Once he reached the apartment building he slowly moved up the stairs. The elevators seemed trashed for some reason.

Near his floor he stopped to look at the Jokerz at the staircase. Why hadn't security kicked them... were they here for him?

"Can't come up here Tiny," one said before Terry punched him in the stomach. The other two next to him panicked and before they could react, Terry grabbed one and slammed him into the steel railing that worked as a handhold. The last he grabbed in a chokehold before roughly letting go. Jokerz normally moved in bigger packs then three though, what were they doing?

He heard a scuffle near his dad's place and- DAD!

He moved faster than he thought he ever could only to see Warren McGinnis being pummeled by a group of dark suited Jokerz (suits? Since when did Jokerz dress so nicely) but it didn't matter because that was his goddamn Dad those assholes trying to kill.

"Hey! I'm the one you want isn't it? Come on!" Terry screamed before tackling the closest one. He fought dirtier than he'd ever done, biting deep into the man's thighs as he went down. He took a billyclub from the sharply dressed man's holster before slamming it deep into the man's kidneys. Too angry and scared to think, he moved onto the next one only this Joker was far stronger than the last, either that or more prepared since he cracked Terry over the head with a few strong blows with a joke rubber chicken loaded with steel balls. He wheezed and was about to pass out but he managed to hook an arm around the man's throat and squeeze until the other two grabbed hold and held him down to the ground.

"Dad!" he screamed as Warren lifted a hand, obviously begging for help. "Dad!" he continued, never once ceasing his cries as Warren McGinnis, his only father, was punched again and again until blood and pristine teeth littered the floor. The bastards trying to kill them humiliated the man with a Glasgow grin before stabbing the middle-aged scientist in his belly with a wicked sharp knife and forced Terry to watch blood gush onto the floor.

Terry McGinnis screamed again and again, his howls not ceasing. In frustration, the two men holding him down slammed him into the hardwood of his father's living room again and again until something cracked and Terry was sure he was swallowing teeth. When the verge of passing out, the Jokerz finally released him before spitting on his bleeding skull. The men were spray painting the apartment, their grim faces looking odd when compared to the jocular message the graffiti was trying to convey. Joker gangmarks had never seemed so macabre before and it only grew worse when a husky Joker with a curly red wig laughed in Terry's face before they all left.

Knowing his Dad had only moments left, Terry forced his unresponsive body to crawl to the greatest man he'd ever known but never cared to acknowledge until today. His mouth ran red and Terry was constantly spitting bubbles and leaving filthy crimson tracks on his shirt and letterman jacket before reaching the dying man.

"Dad," Terry could only mumble.

"T...erry," the man slurred, in too much pain to do much else.

Bruised eyes tried to focus on Terry's face before flinching as he felt tears drop onto his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry Dad. I should have stopped this. Once we get better, I'll never act up again. I'll do everything you ask. I'll study, I won't fight, I won't argue ever again just LIVE!"

"Terry..."

Terry leaned in knowing this would be the last words of Warren McGinnis' life.

"Y-you... you should have been earlier. You could... you should have SAVED ME!"

That night a piece of Terry McGinnis' soul ripped itself apart. With a howl even the demons of hell would have pitied, Terry wept over the body of his father.

His old life was gone.

His world had shattered.

Nothing would be right ever again.

 

[A Curious Stranger]

<a href='http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6610264/9/Adrift_in_Time' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Newest Chapter is on FFnet.</a> By new of course, I mean Chapter 9.

(Is anyone even reading this anymore?)

I'd appreciate some feedback where you see grammar mistakes and the like. Thanks guys. I'll try to get something out tomorrow.

 

[BlackSun]

Yes, At least I am still reading, its just I have nothing worth saying.

Well, at least I dont think "moar" counts as something worth saying.