Freaky Love: A Batman Fic Ch 6

Freaky Love: A Batman Fic Ch 6

Chapter 6: A Swelling of the Problem


For an underground dwelling, the Batcave was warm, part of its heat generated by electricity, part of it the natural geothermal properties of the location. As far as Alfred Pennyworth was concerned, the place was a bit too warm tonight and he made sure to remark as much when Bruce came down early, livid and seeking his supercomputer's aid.
"Try wearing this cape sometime down here, Alfred. I think you'll want to eat those words." he responded a little bitterly, annoyed as he was. The police had radioed him via Commissioner Gordon when he was patrolling for the Joker and Stitches earlier, to inform him that the Scarecrow had pulled a fast one and made good his escape as well. Batman had patrolled throughout the night, but had found no sign of anything that could give any indication of where Jonathan Crane was. He'd finally arrived at the crack of dawn back at the mansion, and immediately had collapsed, exhausted, and left Alfred to haul his cataleptic form up to his room…again. And to make matters worse, Alfred seemed on the verge of handing him more bad news.
"Sir, it appears that the asylum finally managed to capture an image on their cameras of the vehicle that Dr. Crane got away in, and the computer tapped into it. Shall I bring it up for you?" he said.
"Yes, Alfred," Batman answered as he pulled on his mask, giving an inaudible sigh of relief. This didn't seem so bad; indeed, despite the poor camera equipment the asylum had, it wouldn't be too big a deal to enhance and focus the image on the computer. Alfred's fingers flew over a quick series of keys, and a new window opened, playing a scene that was fuzzy, owing to the distance between the subject and the camera. They rewound it, slowed it, zoomed in, refocused. The Batman watched as the Scarecrow casually approached an old Thunderbird and shot his hand inside the window of the driver's side, startling whoever was in the seat. He stood there for a few seconds longer, then by some silent agreement, retrieved his hand and climbed in the passenger's side door. The Thunderbird sat still for several moments, then a faint audio signal came on, the familiar wailing of the asylum's alarms, and the Thunderbird suddenly shot backward and took off, out of sight.
Frowning, he replayed the scene again, this time at a twentieth the actual speed, and zoomed in on the license plate of the Thunderbird. It was blurry at first, but after he refocused it a few times, he was clearly able to read "DGN1864."
"Computer," he commanded, "Do a search on all used 1985 Thunderbirds, license plate number DGN1864."
"Searching." the computer answered mechanically, and hummed. Bruce sighed, rubbing his fingers against his temples, and thought about the situation.
The Scarecrow…unleashed on my city, while the Joker's already out and about, no doubt with a contingent of his allies. And to make matters worse, Scarecrow has found a poor, hapless victim to torment into aiding and abetting his madness.
"Found," the computer announced, "One 1985 Thunderbird, license DGN1864, owned by one Guenhivyre Pendragon."
Surprise hit the Batman like a right hook in the side.
"Pendragon?" he spluttered.
"Do you know her, sir?" Alfred asked calmly as the computer brought up the image of a sweet-faced brunette with startling green eyes.
"I met her just recently, at the charity party for the library. What was she doing at Arkham?" he muttered, scowling at the screen as though demanding answers he expected the computer should be able to give. Frustrated, he adjusted his gloves and made for the Batmobile, his plan constructing itself as he went.
"Is there something wrong, sir?" Alfred inquired, dutifully following close behind him.
"I have to pay the asylum a visit," he responded, "Perhaps someone there will tell me why Miss Pendragon was there, and who saw her."
"Of course, sir."
Within seconds, the vast armored black terror of a car was roaring through the streets of Gotham city, on its way to the house of hell and lunacy.

Batman always gained entry to Arkham Asylum, whether or not any dared to object at his presence. He swept through the hall like an overgrown, malicious shadow, and entered the office of Dr. Avery, who was in the process of berating a pair of security guards and a shamefaced orderly. Once Avery had said his piece and the lectured exited, Batman swept up behind him, his towering form and long shadow finally startling Avery out of his silent fuming.
"Ba-Batman! What are you doing here?!" Avery squeaked.
"The image on your security camera shows the Scarecrow getting away in a 1985 Thunderbird, yesterday, late afternoon," he said bluntly, and while the little man fumbled for words, he went on, "The same Thunderbird owned by one Guenhivyre Pendragon. Tell me what she was doing here."
"W-wh-how? Oh, no! Not Miss Pendragon!" Fenton groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"What was she doing here?" Batman repeated, this time putting more force behind the question, "Don't beat around the bush with me, Avery."
"We-well…Miss Pendragon came to us several months ago, with the request to come once a week on Wednesday afternoons in order to study the inmates as part of her Criminal Psychology Class. She was here to visit them, like she's been doing," he answered, then seemed to draw inside himself, horror etching itself on his features as he murmured, "Oh, God. If they find out, they're going to kill me for this."
"Who did she visit yesterday? I want names, Avery." Batman snapped, furious at this new revelation. Was the girl really that crazy? Didn't she understand what she'd gotten herself into?
"Err…I believe it was Edward Nygma, Jervis Tetch, and…J-Jonathan Crane."
Batman ground his teeth silently and swept from the room, striding silently as a shade, and made his way to the hall where the more…unique residents of the asylum were kept. Several of the cells began to buzz with murmurs as he passed, no doubt owing to their inhabitants being troubled by his presence. He made straightaway for Nygma's cell, partly because it was nearest, and partly because something in his gut told him it was the right place to be. Immediately his mind rebelled; surely he would get nothing useful from Edward Nygma that wasn't cleverly encrypted in the form of a conundrum, but before he knew it, he was at the cell and a stuttering guard was hastily opening the window-slot in the door for him. Inside there came an awkard sound of movement, and a murmur of surprise before Batman found himself staring into a pair of bright blue eyes, lit with a strange fire.
"Batman," the Riddler murmured, smiling coyly, "What a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"
"Guenhivyre Pendragon was here yesterday. She visited you, I hear." Batman returned bluntly, getting right to the point, and had to work to hide his astonishment when Edward's face softened a little at the mention of Guen's name.
"Why…yes. In fact, she even graced me with the kindness of a belated birthday present. Is something wrong?" he said.
"Miss Pendragon has disappeared. Security cameras reveal the Scarecrow escaping yesterday, and taking her and her car hostage."
The Riddler's features, if seeming concerned before, contorted in an astonishing display of shock and outrage.
"No! Not Guen!" he cried, "Not her!! You are not playing some twisted, cruel joke on me, Batman?"
"I only wish I was, Nygma." Batman responded, his mind reeling from the reaction he had least expected to get from the egotistical Riddler.
"Scarecrow…How dare he!" the brunette man fumed for a moment, then he looked at Batman expectantly, worrying spreading over his features. "Forgive me, Batman. Please, I know you are unquestionably already busy, but please! Find Miss Pendragon! When I think of what that monster might be doing to her…" His voice trailed off and he cast his blue eyes down, chewing the skin of his thumb fretfully.
"Don't worry, Nygma," Batman answered, "We'll get her back."
And with that, he spun on his heel, ready to go interrogate Jervis Tetch, his resolve hardening like a sword being forged. As he walked on, he thought he heard the Riddler whisper, "Oh indeed. We will, Batman. There's no mystery about that," a soft, hidden threat in his voice. But that was impossible. The stress of the situation was wearing hard on Bruce, and making him hear things.