The Wayne Legacy: Knightmare
By BetterInTexas
Chapter 14:
Arkham Asylum
Rachel Dawes had spent the day in her office in the bowels of Arkham Asylum fuming.
To date, she had uncovered multiple forged death certificates. She had watched treatment sessions with patients who were clearly terrified despite their diagnosis being depression, or anxiety, or antisocial personality disorders.
It was obvious that there was a greater evil here at Arkham than just the patients it held. That evil was connected to, if not outright, Jonathan Crane.
He had become more agitated recently. The more records Rachel uncovered, the less cocky the man had become. He now regarded her with barely concealed hate.
Harvey had told her of an area under Arkham that had not been on the original blueprints. He was working on retrieving a warrant, something that shouldn’t be hard. Diana Wayne would no doubt want it and judges jumped to meet her demands.
Harvey also wanted this done by the book. If what Rachel had found and the greater evil she suspected actually existed, Arkham Asylum was about to blow up in the media. A serial killer experimenting on the criminally insane in the heart of Gotham City was going to be a national story and no one, not even Diana Wayne, could stop it.
She knew Diana would manage to spin this fiasco into a positive narrative, namely a public affairs victory for the police and District Attorney’s Office in uncovering a heinous act that the State of Illinois tried to sweep under the rug.
Regardless, the trial would be huge, and the case needed to be perfect. That meant things like probable cause, chains of evidence and search warrants would need to be done to the letter, not pushed through because Diana said so.
Dent had specifically ordered her not to search for this underground area, he wasn’t sure if there was anything to it. But given Crane’s agitated demeanor, Rachel was sure there was more to the story. She felt it in her gut.
The quandary she was facing was if Crane was conducting experiments there, when was he doing it? The man left the Asylum every night and returned every morning at the same times and he never left his apartment according to surveillance officers.
As the afternoon waned into evening, Rachel watched from a darkened hallway as Crane left the Asylum for the night. She hoped to find some answers without interference from the target of their investigation.
Rachel had taken her earrings out, leaving them on her desk. If she kept them on, whoever Dent had watching and listening to her would know she was searching. He would most likely try to stop her, perhaps as far as sending an officer inside to escort her home.
She knew the most obvious place to search for a secret underground area would be the bottom levels. She decided to start with the ironically less creepy area… the basement.
The basement was huge, quiet and damp. It smelt like old laundry and cleaning detergent. During the day, the more stable inmates did laundry duties under the supervision of guards. It was unlikely that Crane could access a hidden area in such a busy place during the day, but it was the most obvious.
The washers and dryers were stacked against the walls, and she pulled on each one, hoping one might move with more ease than the others. She used the light on her phone to check the roof and walked around the entire area, looking for dust spots on the walls and floors that would have indicated movement where none should have been. After a while, Rachel gave up and moved to the lowest ward, where the worst of the worst were kept. It was also where Crane’s office was located.
Upon entering the dank hallway, she froze.
A cell door was open, and no guards were present.
It wasn’t unusual for guards not to be present in this area. Crane preferred to keep them away from the research in his office and the therapy sessions he conducted. He only spoke to the patients through an intercom during therapy, something Rachel found weird.
If he was hiding an underground entrance, not having guards around made sense.
But seeing a cell door open, even a small bit, made no sense.
Rachel knew these prisoners. She had studied each one in detail. The cell that was open belonged to Thomas Schiff, a paranoid schizophrenic and convicted murderer. Under medication, he acted and appeared deceptively normal. He was tall, thin and had dark brown, slightly long hair.
He was similar to Crane in look and build when she thought about it, leading to another thought that left her chilled to the bone.
Rachel ran to the cell, unsurprised to find it empty. Inside, she saw nothing, no one. It appeared as if the door was opened, and he walked out.
She looked in the corner of the white padded room and saw his white pants and shirt, bundled on the floor.
He had changed clothes and walked out. Someone had let him walk and that someone could only be Crane.
Rachel stepped out in the hallway and tried to call Dent. To her frustration, she had no signal this far underground.
“Damn it.” She whispered, turning to go back upstairs but in that moment, her entire world went black.
Arkham City / Arkham Asylum
John Blake had been performing his nightly routine of patrolling the area called Arkham City. He had done his rounds, talked to the impressive list of street contacts he had been amassing, mostly homeless people but a few prostitutes and drug users as well, and listened for news of missing street persons or smells that might be associated with decaying bodies.
Having nothing, he decided to wait at the entrance to the asylum and follow Crane home as he did at times. Gordon told him that an underground area had been discovered beneath Arkham, and it was possible that Crane had been conducting experiments there.
No entrance had been discovered and a warrant had not been obtained to search for one yet. Once the warrant was issued, Blake vowed he would be the first one through the doors of the asylum.
Despite everything seeming to be okay tonight, he had learned a higher number of homeless than usual had disappeared in the last few months. Blake suspected that more bodies would be found in the next few years, mostly skeletons behind walls when buildings were torn down or renovated.
Blake saw Crane leave in his standard Ford Sedan and followed at a distance. It was three blocks from the parking lot when Crane passed a stop sign, failing to make a complete stop. It was a minor traffic infraction but gave him pause.
“Should I be the dick cop who pulls him over for a minor traffic ticket?” Blake asked himself, then grinned. “Of course, I should be.”
He turned on his lights and a part of him hoped Crane would take off, try to outrun him because he had a body in his backseat or trunk.
It was a bit disappointing that he pulled over like any good citizen with nothing to hide.
Blake didn’t bother with a citation book, deciding a warning would suffice.
When he knocked on the window, the man didn’t roll his window down. Blake knocked once again while slipping his other hand to his gun.
“Sir, please roll down your window and give me your license and registration.” Blake said, his voice slightly raised but calm.
The man looked out the window and met his eyes. He smiled widely and began laughing.
From the time Blake had been made aware of the dangers and investigation into Arkham, he had read every file on Crane multiple times. He had seen the man’s picture many times.
This man was dressed like Crane, even resembled him, but he was not Jonathan Crane.
John immediately wrenched the door open and pulled the man from the car, forcing him to the ground, face first. He cuffed the man’s hands and pulled him up to his feet, pressing him against the car, and frisked him.
“Who are you?”
The man laughed once again.
“Where is Crane?” Blake demanded.
Instead of a laugh, the man chuckled. He was obviously a mental patient.
“Listen to me. You walked out of Arkham Asylum tonight in Dr. Crane’s clothes, got into his car and drove away. I need answers and I need them now. Is Dr. Crane hurt?”
The man smirked and shook his head.
“Why are you in his clothes? Where were you going?” Blake asked.
The man finally spoke, a manic look in his eyes. “I’m in his clothes every night and I go home. As long as I’m good, I get to sleep in his apartment. Isn’t that nice of him? He takes care of us if we take care of him.”
Understanding dawned on Blake. The question they had been asking was how Crane had time to experiment without being found out, how he was killing without being discovered.
It was now painfully obvious.
Crane was the last to leave. He would dress this man to resemble him, send him out past the guards with his ID badge while he kept his head down then drove to Crane’s home every night.
Bruce had been in Crane’s apartment multiple times but in the dark, he wouldn’t recognize the man under the covers if he slept face down.
“Who are you?” Blake was angry, knowing they had been played by the doctor, but he couldn’t lose his temper with this man.
“I’m Doctor Crane. I’m Doctor Crane every night. The guards don’t see me. They don’t watch. They don’t care. They don’t notice what is happening around them.” The man answered, an enigmatic smile on his face.
Blake supposed that made a certain amount of sense. He grabbed his phone and took a photo of the man.
“Dispatch, this is Unit 46. I’m sending a photo of a perp I have taken into custody. He left Arkham Asylum in Dr. Crane’s car, wearing civilian clothes. Can I get a facial recognition?”
When he started the academy, Blake had heard Gotham had the best equipped police department in the world thanks to the Waynes. He had never expected it to have facial recognition software that could give a near immediate facial identification if someone had been in the system at any point in their life. It was a tool he hadn’t taken advantage of yet but there was no time better than the present.
“Unit 46, facial identification shows he is Thomas Schiff, patient of Arkham Asylum, serving a life sentence without parole for three counts of murder, terroristic threat and attempted murder. Do you have him in custody?”
“Affirmative, Dispatch. I’m taking him back to Arkham and giving custody to the guards while I search for Crane. Please send back up.”
John pushed the man into the back of his cruiser and quickly drove the few blocks to the asylum.
Before he could reach the gate, his cell rang. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. “You been listening?”
“Always. Alfred has hacked into Rachel’s feed. She hasn’t moved or spoken for five hours. We think she took her tracker off and is looking for the entrance to the underground section.” Bruce told him. “I’m nearby. Schiff’s cage is on the lowest level.”
“If Schiff is impersonating Crane every night, it is likely the entrance to the underground room would be in his cell. How far away are you?” Blake asked.
“I’m at a tunnel that I can slide down into Crane’s office. I’ll be out of contact.”
“I’m on my way.” Blake told him but he knew the Batman was gone. If his hunch was right, not only was Crane at work, but the ADA, who was an old friend of Bruce, could be in danger.
He pulled up to the gate and two guards hurried out of the shack.
“Can we help you officer?” one asked.
Blake jumped out and opened the back, pulling Schiff out. “You can keep your animals in the zoo for starters. This is Thomas Schiff. Have you seen Dr. Crane?”
Even in the dark, Blake could see the guard turn pale. “No, we haven’t. We thought we saw his car leave…”
“That was Schiff in his car. Take custody of the prisoner. Have your guards inside take the upper levels and the grounds, making sure no other violent criminals are loose. I’m taking the lower levels. Backup units on the way.”
Blake pushed Schiff into the guard and jumped back into his car to make the trip to the front door. As he hopped out again, Gordon called.
“You up to speed, Commissioner?” Blake asked, gun in one hand, cell phone to his ear and running for the stairway.
“Enough. Schiff has been impersonating Crane? Damn it! My reconnaissance unit assigned to the DA’s Office is telling me Rachel hasn’t moved in five hours.”
“She either has a great bladder and enjoys silence, or she is wandering around the place without her trackers. I’m heading to the lower levels to meet our friend. If you could keep my teammates from following me down, I would appreciate it.”
“Understood.” Gordon replied and ended the call.
Hidden Area, Arkham Asylum
Down below, Rachel woke up. Her eyes were blurry, and her head felt cracked open. She felt a fluid running down her face, past her eye and onto her cheek. She wondered if it was blood.
Her arms and shoulders were also cramping, most likely because they were above her head. She felt a sharp pain where metal was biting into her wrists.
“So, you are up. I was afraid I may have hit you hard enough to cause brain damage. I was concerned it may have an adverse result to my experiment, but it doesn’t matter. Either way, you will serve a greater purpose.” The voice was familiar, hauntingly so.
Rachel took in the area. It was a huge cavern, and the lights were dim. It also smelled. There were several large vats, gas tanks, benches covered in chemistry tools and beds with straps. She was suspended from the ceiling with straps, her feet barely touching the ground.
Jonathan Crane appeared in front of her and pushed a strand of hair from her face. “You, my dear, have become personal to me. You have irritated me, dug into things that were none of your business, pushed my field experiments outside the asylum. Basically, you did your job too well.”
“Thank you.” Rachel said, putting on a brave face. “The DA’s Office and police have tracked my every move and conversation since I began monitoring this place. They know by now that you have me. It’s over, Crane.”
“It isn’t over for me. I’m just going to move locations. This area was ideal, and Gotham is full of underground cave systems, but other cities are as well. I suppose working in another asylum is out, but I have done what was needed. My formula is perfect. I hate to leave so much finished product behind, but I have a plan for getting rid of it without the police taking too close of a look.”
The crazy look in his eyes terrified her, but Rachel was able to keep her fear at bay, letting her anger out instead. “What is wrong with you?”
Crane shook his head, disappointed. “That is not how one should word a therapeutic question. Haven’t you sat in on enough of my sessions to know this by now? The question is never what… it is why . Why am I doing this. Ask me, Rachel. Ask me why I am doing this.”
“Screw you.” Rachel told him, spitting in his face.
Crane smirked, wiping her spital off with the sleeve of his suit coat and walked over to a desk, pulling out what looked like a burlap sack from a drawer. He placed it over his head and Rachel was taken back by the scarecrow-like visage.
He wasn’t just a killer, or a mad scientist.
He was completely insane.
“Like my mask? I use it quite a bit in my experiments. Really freaks the looneys out, even before I expose them to my fear toxin. Some say I look like a scarecrow.” He told her.
“So, you are going to use this toxin on me?” Rachel asked, still doing her best to sound unafraid.
Crane shook his head and sighed. “You still haven’t asked me why, Rachel, but I will tell you regardless. The only way to be free of fear is to become that which spreads the fear. I grew up afraid. So I made myself become the thing others feared. I freed myself.
“How do you frighten the brave, those who feel no fear or those who are incapable of fear, due to mental illness? With chemistry, of course. Chemistry makes everything possible.
“To answer the second, most important question after the why, no, I don’t need to use my toxin on you. You are already full of fear. Why should I give you fake monsters to scare you when you already have your own real ones?”
“I’m not scared of you.” Rachel said stubbornly.
Crane chuckled and Rachel was glad she couldn’t see his face, despite the creepy mask.
“No, I doubt you are afraid of me. You have faced worse. I’ve been researching you since you entered my life, Miss Dawes. Your big bad monster is Diana Wayne, a woman so cold, she is using her considerable power to shut down a large asylum because she doesn’t like the way it makes her precious city look.” Crane said, watching her closely to obviously gauge her reaction. “She isn’t your only fear though. I can make a few conclusions I believe are right. You are frightened of Joe Chill, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me?” Rachel asked, greatly surprised.
“You are scared he may have killed someone else when he was released. You let a monster out on the street, brought down the wrath of god on yourself and it made no difference in the end.
“Falconè went to prison, but he was just an old man. You and your boyfriend, Finch, didn’t take down the mob. Valestra took more power for himself, Maroni took over the Falconè family, the Chechen and his Russians moved in, and Gambol grew in power. Falconè’s downfall opened up a vacuum that was quickly filled.
“I suppose you could call it business as usual. It took your big bad monster, Diana Wayne, and her army of white knights to take down organized crime in Gotham. You failed and you know it. You are afraid of her, afraid of whatever Chill could have done now and afraid of your own failure. All you suffered at her hands for your betrayal, and it was for nothing.”
Rachel thought of telling him Chill was dead but left it alone. She had bigger worries and needed to concentrate on keeping him talking to buy some time as well as wanting to ignore how many of her failures he had pointed out.
“You are afraid of dying a failure. All you had to do was play the game, keep Miss Wayne happy and you could have made a real difference in the world.” Crane kept taunting her, obviously feeling empowered in his madness. “You will, by the way. You will die a failure. That is your torture, your worst fear come to life. That is the knowledge that will stay with you in hell. Don’t worry though. I will send Diana Wayne to you soon enough. I might even send the blonde puppy that stays by her side as well.”
Rachel’s mind thought of questions to keep him talking while racking her brain for an escape plan. She was quickly running out of options if she ever had any to begin with.
“Why do you want Diana dead? Because she wants Arkham gone? You don’t care about this place.”
Crane took off his mask and his madness was made obvious by the wide smile on his face. “If you can make god feel fear, then you become god. I am superior to the human race. Taking her down will prove that. The world will fear me, not her.”
Rachel laughed bitterly. “Take it from someone who has known Diana her whole life. She will never be afraid of you. She will crush you. She crushes everyone who doesn’t do what she wants. Take your shot at her. You will lose. Everyone loses who goes against her. If you threaten Kara, you are already dead. Having a superiority complex doesn’t make you superior. It just makes you cocky and stupid.”
Unexpectedly, Crane threw his head back and cackled, the sound sending a chill racing through her body, even as she threw a prayer on the wind to any deity that may be listening to deliver her and the city from the madman’s nightmarish plans.
Arkham Asylum
Batman had arrived in the hallway, sliding down the vent and kicking Crane’s door open.
Schiff had a cell on this level, and he suspected Rachel was here as well. She had been unreachable, so he knew Crane had her, but he wasn’t sure for how long.
The door to the hall opened and Bruce tensed, wondering if he would have to take down any Arkham guards. To his relief, it was John Blake.
“Cover the door and don’t let any guards in.” Bruce told him, entering Schiff’s cell. “Alfred, can you see what I am seeing?”
“Yes. The room is covered in white padding. Perhaps under the bed there is a lever or pressure plate that could open a wall.”
Bruce thought of using a bomb on the wall, hoping a small explosion would reveal something before remembering a trick his sister had added to his cowl.
“Ultraviolet.” Bruce said quietly and immediately his vision changed. The vision always amazed him and showed him things he had never seen before.
Fingerprints were all over the walls of the cell. “Alfred, run the fingerprints and tell me if there are any different than Schiff’s.
“Cluster to the upper left, five feet from floor, two feet in from wall. Those prints are Crane’s.” Alfred replied.
Bruce felt around the area and was surprised to find that, despite looking as if it were padded, the area he was touching was hard. He pulled it back and found a keypad.
“I recognize the lock. Four numbers. That means twenty-four possible combinations.”
“Start with…” Alfred began to say but Bruce had already backed into the hallway and thrown a small explosive at the keypad.
It stuck magnetically to the combination pad and exploded. The lock behind it cracked and the hidden padded door swung open.
“What the hell?” Blake asked, running up and taking a look inside the cell. “Not much for subtly. That’s going to be fun to explain.”
Bruce paid no mind, rushing through the door with Blake following.
Down below, Crane’s discussion with Rachel was cut short.
Cocking his head to the side, the madman said, “It appears we are done. Time to go to hell with your fears.”
Rachel had been certain he would eventually use the toxin on her and had prepared herself mentally. She hadn’t expected him to pull out a knife from inside his suit jacket, a six inch long blade that he shoved into her abdomen.
She wasn’t sure what to make of it at first. She felt the punch, but it wasn’t until he pulled the blood soaked knife out that the pain hit her. Crane stabbed her once again in the stomach, then turned and ran, heading towards the back of the area.
Before he reached the emergency exit in the back, he felt a sharp sting as a blade of some sort enter the back of his thigh, burying itself into his hamstring.
Not familiar with this type of police weapon, he fell to the ground and rolled over. Crane saw what appeared to be a man dressed like a bat with a cop behind him. The two were focused on Dawes, who was bleeding quite profusely. He pulled the blade from his leg and began to move again, hoping to escape their notice.
For his part in the unfolding drama, Blake held Rachel by the waist while Bruce used the blades on his forearms to cut through the metal chains holding her up. The young woman was unconscious already and Blake was doing his best to keep pressure on the wound.
Bruce felt a rage inside him, one he had not felt in a very long time.
“Get him.” Blake said as Rachel fell into his arms. “I’m taking her upstairs. She has to get to an ambulance. She is running out of time and blood.”
Without waiting for a reply, Blake lifted her up and took off, moving as quickly as he could with Rachel cradled carefully in his arms.
Bruce stood and began walking towards Crane who was limping across the floor.
“You would certainly be an interesting case study.” Crane said derisively as Batman continued to stalk towards him.
Crane reached into his jacket and pulled out a small device. He pressed a button and Batman stopped.
“I thought that might get your attention. I need about five minutes to get away. Five minutes is how long it is going to take the bomb on top of the large gas tank to explode. My toxin is flammable if you were wondering. Once that bomb goes off, Diana Wayne’s dreams come true and Arkham is wiped from the map, along with everyone in here. Unfortunately for her, this will make the news.”
Crane saw Bruce look to the top of the large tank.
“You care, don’t you? You care about all life, even the scum that infests this place. I thought as much. You threw your sharp toy blade into my leg, even though my torso made a larger, easier target.
“So you have a decision to make. The two of us can leave out the tunnel and you can hand me over to the mercy of the justice system or you can try to save these evil, wretched souls. Your call but make it soon. I must be going.”
“You aren’t going anywhere.” Batman moved quickly, striking Crane in the side of the neck hard, dropping him to the ground unconscious.
He jumped against the wall then pushed off and landed on top of the tank. To his dismay, Crane wasn’t lying. A bomb was on top, next to a release valve.
Unfortunately, it was a bomb Bruce didn’t recognize.
“Alfred?”
“I didn’t learn to disarm bombs while you were gone.” The man told his young charge.
“Is Bunny up?” Batman asked as calmly as he could in the circumstances.
“No. Let me contact Diana and try to convince her to wake young Kara.”
“Tell Diana if she doesn’t wake her, Arkham is going to be wiped off the map along with a lot of innocent people as well as patients.”
Alfred was silent for what seemed like forever. Bruce sat on top of the tank, looking over the bomb, wondering if he was going to have to take a big risk as time lessened. He had experience with disarming bombs but not a lot and every bomb was a bit different.
At two minutes and twenty seconds, Kara’s sleepy voice came on. It was only nine-thirty, but she had most likely taken a pill since it was a weekday around seven-thirty and fell asleep at eight.
“What the hell do you want, Bruce?” Kara’s sleepy voice asked. “I was having the best dream.”
“Bunny, can you see what I am seeing?”
“Of course, I can see what you see.”
“What am I looking at?”
“A bomb. Duh. Under two minutes. That’s not a problem. Look closer at it.”
Bruce bent down closer.
To his surprise, his ultraviolet vision turned on without him requesting it to do so. It then flashed off. He wasn’t aware Kara could take control of his suit from her room, but it shouldn’t have surprised him.
“Bunny, I have about one minute and thirty seconds. Can you disarm this, or should I tell Gordon to evacuate as many people as he can in sixty seconds?”
“Chill out, Bruce. No need to get an attitude. Who made this thing? It’s a travesty.” A sleepy Kara asked.
“Is it going to explode?”
“Yeah, but its crude and has no style…” She remarked casually, a little too casually given he was sitting next to it.
“Bunny! Can we please save the bomb fashion criticism for later?”
“Pull the pink wire.” Kara told him.
Bruce let out a frustrated breath. “There is no pink wire.”
Kara was quiet for a moment. “The red one. Sorry. Eyes are still a little blurry.”
Bruce grabbed the red wire, closed his eyes and pulled.
“You just closed your eyes, didn’t you? Did you not believe me? A seven-year-old can make a better bomb. And by that, I mean me. I made a much better bomb when I was seven.” She replied in that irritating tone that grated on him.
“Bunny, please put Diana on. I know she is there.” Bruce told her.
Bruce waited for a moment.
“This is not going to be a regular occurrence, Bruce.” Diana’s stern voice told him. “She can’t be woken up at any time to disarm bombs for you. She is already nearly back to sleep…”
“Crane stabbed Rachel. Hopefully Blake found an ambulance or took her to the hospital himself. She’s lost a lot of blood, Diana.”
Diana said nothing.
Bruce jumped down from the tank and moved towards Crane, only to find him gone. “No.”
“No?” Diana asked cautiously.
“I knocked Crane out before I defused the bomb. He’s gone now. I’m going after him. Someone needs to tell Rachel’s mother, Diana.”
Bruce cut his com and began running down the hallway Crane had pointed out. He turned the light on his suit and ultraviolet vision and saw nothing, no trail of blood, no bloody footprints. He used his sonar and came up with nothing.
Bruce continued sprinting up to the surface. He exited through a tunnel into a trashy and overgrown park, just outside of the Asylum’s gates.
He used his ultraviolet light to search the ground for any trace of blood. He could find none. Crane had not come this way and he wasn’t in the tunnel. Had he hidden somewhere in the lab while Bruce was disarming the bomb and slipped away when Bruce ran into the exit tunnel?
Frustrated, he ran back the way he came.
Back in the giant lab, a check of the area showed a slight blood trail leading to the left. Bruce followed it and found a door, leading to a separate tunnel, hidden behind a large gas tank.
He followed the tunnel and came out in an alley. It was near the old building where Bruce and Blake had found Max’s body. He saw spots of blood and followed it to broken glass, no doubt from a car that he had knocked the window out of and stolen.
The Batman yelled with rage and frustration at having lost his quarry.
While Bruce had been disarming the bomb and failing to capture Crane, Blake had carried Rachel to the front of Arkham Asylum. Police had arrived and were swarming the grounds. He called for an ambulance as soon as he reached the outside.
Blake was given towels and kept pressure on her wounds. He couldn’t tell the exact location, but it was spurting, and she would likely die in the next few minutes.
The ambulance arrived a few seconds later and Blake carried her into the back, rather than waiting for the medics to place her on a stretcher.
“Set me up for a transfusion.” Blake ordered.
“Sir, if we could…” the medic started.
“I’ve dealt with this before. I’m type O. Set me up or we lose her.”
“You a medic?” the paramedic asked while hurriedly setting up the transfusion line.
“I’ve been whatever was needed.”
The ride to Wayne Memorial took ten minutes though it seemed like an hour. Several times he thought they would lose her but despite her low blood pressure, she held on.
“It’s a miracle but I think the knife missed her lungs… both strikes.” The medic said. “We are pulling in now. We need to remove the transfusion line.”
Blake nodded while the medic did so, then sat in the ambulance as the stretcher was pulled away, knowing it was out of his hands now.
He walked into the ER, not sure what to do. His squad car was at the Asylum. His uniform, his exposed skin, all covered in blood.
Deciding all he could do was wait, he made it to the waiting room, standing vigil as the ADA fought for her life.
After ten minutes his phone rang. “Tell me you got him.”
“There was a bomb on top of a gas tank. I had to disarm it. While I was doing so, he escaped. There were two routes out of the cavern, and I chose the wrong one. By the time I found the second trail, he had already stolen a car. He’s gone. There aren’t street cams in this area… Blake, tell me she is alive…”
“She was alive when we arrived. She is in surgery now. I’m waiting. That’s all I know.” Blake reported, moving to a corner where he could talk in private.
Blake could hear Bruce let out a breath. The man was no doubt a mess right now. He was frustrated, angry, and Blake suspected Rachel Dawes meant more to him than just being an ADA.
“We will find him, Bruce.” He said softly.
“He could be anywhere. He hasn’t been living at his apartment for months. I’ve been in that apartment twice and didn’t know it wasn’t Crane in bed.” Bruce said, clearly angry with himself for not figuring out the madman’s routine earlier.
“You couldn’t exactly turn on the lights and check. Hey, we saved the ADA… we have definite proof that Crane is a criminal and every law enforcement agency in the country is going to be looking for him. We did what we could.” Blake replied, trying to console the man.
“We got lucky. We got lucky that you pulled Schiff over and I had planned to find Crane’s lair tonight. If not, Rachel would be dead… and… damn it!”
“Where are you at? You heading back to your hangout, or the manor?” Blake asked, concerned for his friend.
“I’m in an alley nearby. Diana is bringing me clothes then I’ll be there.”
“I’ll text you if I hear anything.” Blake promised and ended the call, settling down in a chair to wait.
In the meantime, Diana and Steve drove quickly from the manor leaving a sleeping Kara behind with Dig. Alfred told Diana he would be informing Gertrude of Rachel’s situation and personally bringing her to the hospital.
Diana was furious.
Crane had escaped. He had been releasing a schizophrenic every night under their noses. Rachel hadn’t backed off as she was told to do and was now possibly dying.
Rachel was possibly dying, and that realization shook Diana to her core.
“Why didn’t she listen to Harvey and back off!?” Diana had asked Steve, not expecting him to answer and deciding she needed to call Silver.
“Diana? What’s up, girl? Evan is officially gone, and I am officially on the market. Since you are up, come to the club on Vine and…”
“Silver, I have some bad news.” Diana cut her friend off.
Silver was quiet for a moment. “Is Kara okay? Is it Alfred? Just say it, Diana.”
“Rachel… you are aware she has been working at Arkham… investigating Crane.”
“Yeah, and I wish she hadn’t agreed to do it. She was fine working tax law.” Silver replied.
Diana closed her eyes for a moment. “Crane stabbed Rachel tonight, then escaped. She is in surgery now.”
Silver said nothing for a moment, a moment that seemed to stretch forever.
“Dr. Crane stabbed her?” Silver finally asked.
Diana nodded, forgetting Silver couldn’t see her. Taking a deep breath, she said quietly, almost a whisper… “Yes.”
“Does Miss Gertrude know?” Silver asked, just as quietly.
“Alfred has gone to pick her up.”
Silver whispered something that Diana couldn’t make out. “Silver?”
“Is… is she alive?”
“Yes, she is in surgery now.” Diana said as calmly as she was able. “She wasn’t supposed to be there tonight! She was told to back off. She went searching where she shouldn’t have. She wasn’t supposed to be there, Silver!”
Silver took a deep breath. “Diana, I want you to calm down.”
“I am calm!” Diana snapped. “She shouldn’t have been there! Harvey told her to stand down!”
“Okay, Diana. I’m a little drunk right now so I am going to find a taxi to take me to the hospital. I’ll meet you in the ER.”
“No! Taxis are dangerous this time of night. I’ll send a security guard from Wayne Tower to pick you up. Wait at the club for him. I’m serious, Silver. Do not leave with anyone but him.” Diana ordered her friend.
Diana ended the call, immediately calling security at the Tower and having them send a guard to Silver’s location. Once that was done, Steve took one of her hands while his other stayed on the steering wheel of the Lamborghini as he raced down the streets, breaking every traffic law.
“Relax.” He told her.
“I am relaxed.” Diana responded, obviously not the least bit relaxed.
Steve squeezed her hand and continued driving fast, only slowing down when they neared the alley where Bruce had told them to meet him. Seeing the man waiting in the shadows, Steve hopped out of the car with the bag that had been by Diana’s feet and tossed it to Bruce.
“We really need to get you some way to quick change. Where is your armor?” he asked, seeing Bruce standing in only a black body suit.
Bruce pointed up. “I left it hidden on the roof. I’ll pick it up later. Thanks for the clothes.”
Steve nodded. “I would offer you a ride but there are only two seats, as you know…”
“My bike is in the back. I’ll see you at the hospital.” Bruce replied, heading down the alley.
When they arrived at the hospital, Diana was a bit surprised to see Harvey Dent, Jim Gordon and John Blake there. Blake seemed to be covered in blood, blood she suspected was Rachel’s.
“Can I speak to you two privately?” Diana motioned for the DA and police commissioner to follow her away from the group.
“What happened?” She demanded of the other two.
“She took her earrings out and left them in her office.” Harvey reported to Diana and Jim. “I told her not to look for an entrance, but she looked anyway and must have found it or gotten close. Officer Blake said he found Schiff driving Crane’s car and brought him back to Arkham, then checked his cell. He found a hole in the wall and a door halfway busted open. He entered and found Rachel hanging by her arms and witnessed Crane stabbing her. Crane ran but Blake was unable to follow due to needing to stabilize Rachel. He got lucky. Guys at the scene are saying there was a bomb on top of a tank that could have gone off and blown the whole place to hell. Apparently, a wire was pulled or never attached right.”
Gordon glanced at Diana and then shook his head. “We are lucky Crane isn’t good at making bombs. We found his manufacturing area. There is a massive amount of his ‘fear toxin’. We are going to need a large hazardous waste team to clean it up. Other prisons are being contacted to evacuate the inmates of Arkham to other facilities.”
Diana sighed in frustration and anger. It was just as she suspected. Rachel had disobeyed orders and gotten herself into trouble.
It wasn’t her fault.
All thoughts of whose fault it was, ended when Diana saw Alfred walk in with a woman she didn’t recognize. It took her conscious mind a moment to make herself believe that she was looking at Gertrude Dawes.
Gertrude had always been a healthy, vibrant woman. Now she was frail, her white hair was thin, and she looked much older than her years. She walked slowly and had a look of absolute fear on her face. Alfred helped her over to Diana.
“Diana, have you heard any news?” he asked.
Diana could only shake her head. The woman’s appearance had shaken her greatly. This was not the robust woman who was full of life and brought so much joy to the manor, especially to Kara. She more closely resembled a wraith.
“You should sit.” Diana managed to say gently to Gertrude.
Alfred helped the woman sit while Diana could think of nothing to say to her, so she walked off with Steve.
“Maybe we should go.” She whispered to her fiancé.
“Why?” He asked, truly puzzled.
“I don’t want to be… I don’t belong here. She isn’t my friend. She isn’t my problem. She was told to stay out of it. She was told not to look for that area. Who did she think she was? A cop? What was she going to do if she found an entrance? Raid it with her pen or a stapler? She wanted to be some kind of hero and now her mom is worried about her… her mom looks so sick and… this isn’t my fault!” Diana whispered fiercely, her eyes wild.
Steve placed a hand on her cheek and the other one on the back of her neck, rubbing her in both spots, knowing it would calm her.
“Nobody said it’s your fault. If you want to go, we can, but I think we should wait until we find out if she is going to be okay, all right? Regardless of your history with her, she is a public servant who was injured tonight.”
Diana nodded and laid her head on his shoulder.
The doors opened up once more and Bruce came inside.
He looked at Diana who met his gaze and silently indicated there was no news on Rachel.
Bruce then looked towards Blake, but his eyes landed on Alfred and Gertrude first. His shock at seeing Gertrude’s appearance was apparent to Diana. She had forgotten that Silver told her Gertrude didn’t want anyone to know and Diana had respected those wishes, not telling anyone. Her conversations with her brother hadn’t gotten around to Gertrude Dawes health, nor had any conversations with Alfred.
Bruce motioned to Blake, obviously wanting to speak to him in a corner. Diana saw they both looked as tired as she felt. It had been an intense and frustrating night. Rachel was fighting her life and Crane was in the wind. Nothing was what she had in mind for the evening.
Silver walked in and went straight to Miss Gertrude, kneeling by her side and taking the older woman’s hands in hers. Gertrude was crying and Diana felt like she had been hit by Cronus all over again.
Silver patted Gertrude’s hand then stood and moved towards Diana.
“Any word?” the blonde asked her best friend.
Diana was about to shake her head when the waiting room door opened up and a surgeon walked in.
“Is there a member of Rachel Dawes’ family here?” the man asked, looking around.
To Diana, it felt as if the wind had been sucked from the room as they all waited with bated breath.
Bella MacLeod's Twilight Fanfiction 
Leave a comment