Batman: Fear Of Loss

The Fear Of Darkness

     Eyes fluttered open, greeted with darkness. He stirred, groggily raising his head. His wrists ached, blistered by tight, rusted metal, chaffing away at his skin. He jerked his arms, trying to get free in a flurry of intense motion.
     "Don't fret, Nightwing."
     Dick shot up, his eyes meeting with a silhouette, illuminated only by a torch clenched in the right hand and an orange, thick, liquid that ran throughout the figure's body.
     "Wh-where?" Dick uttered, squinting his eyes.
     "Someplace safe. For now," the voice said, emanating from the ghostly figure. It placed the torch atop a small, wooden tool, illuminating the unkept concrete floor in yellow light. The figure rose his hand and, with a click, ignited a small lightbulb.
     Nightwing was taken aback, at a loss of words for a moment, but quickly hid the expression.
     Scarecrow showed what teeth he had, forming his butchered mouth into something of a smile. "It took some time to find you."
     "I can't imagine why," Dick said sardonically.
     "Amusing," Scarecrow responded. He turned away, his leathery coat whipping around him.
     "So what's the plan this time, Crane?" Dick asked, smiling. "Poisoning Gotham's water supply again?"
     Scarecrow chuckled, pulling a leather suitcase from a dusted shelf, though the suitcase itself was in pristine condition.
     "What's that, Crane? Laundry?"
     "Keep talking, Mr. Grayson," it shall only weaken your resolve.
     Dick gawked at the comment, at a loss of words.
     "Yes, I know your name. Does that scare you? Do you feel the cold shiver running down your spine? The hairs on the back of your neck standing up?" Scarecrow gave a haunting laugh that echoed throughout the room, raspy and gravely.
     With a loud pop, the suitcase launched open revealing a gauntlet, of sorts, crafted in weathered metal. He lifted the device, sliding it onto his arm and attaching it to tubes filled with the orange liquid. 
     "Everyone has a greatest fear, Mr. Grayson," Scarecrow said, standing up and treading towards him. He clenched his dirty hands into a fist, filling each syringe the gauntlet sported with the liquid. "Tonight, we will find yours."
     Dick squirmed, trying the break the chains from the wall.
     "Shh," Crane whispered, clenching Dick's face. "Don't be afraid."

      Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

      "Tim," Bruce said, standing over him.
     Tim's eyes fluttered open, meeting with Batman's. "Bruce... ugh... what happened?" he asked, trying to prop himself up.
     Barbara pressed against his chest, laying him back down.
     "You nearly died, Master Drake," Alfred said, bearing a bloodied cloth.
     Tim looked around, taking in the area. A packet of blood hung above him, the cable leading to his wrist.
     "You've lost a lot of blood," Barbara said.
     Tim thought for a moment, trying to recollect. Flashes of a burning tower ran through his mind. "My God..."
     "Yes. We were," Alfred paused, "all worried."
     Tim looked up at Batman, who was standing farther away. "What about you?" he asked, lowering his brow.
     "I'm fine."
     "You were not fine, Bruce," Tim said, sternly.
     "Master Bruce. What's he talking about?" Alfred asked, turning. Barbara gave a concerned stare.
     "He almost killed someone! Sent them plummeting to their death!"
     "What?!" Barbara shouted.
     "I had it under control."
     "What happened in that warehouse in Blüdhaven, Bruce?"
     "Nothing. I'm fine," Bruce said.
     "We lost comms for an hour, Bruce!" Barbara yelled.
"Master Bruce - if there's something wrong... please tell us..."
"I'm fine!" Batman yelled, his booming voice billowing throughout the cave, spurring masses of bats.
The cave fell silent. Everyone was frozen.
Barbara stuttered, "Bruce.. I..."
"I'm going to find Scarecrow. Stop this once and for all."
"You're going to kill him," Tim said, leaning up from the bed, "aren't you?"
Batman stopped, turning. "I'm going to do what I have to. To end this."
"Then I'm coming with you," Tim said, tossing the white blankets off of his legs.
Alfred raised his hands to stop him, "You must not go. You've lost too much blood."
"I'll go," Barbara spoke up.
Bruce and the others stared in confusion.
"Barbara, I-" Tim got out.
"And no one is going to stop me. Not even you, Bruce," she interrupted. "You need all the help you can get. For Dick, Bruce."
"For Dick," he responded.