Fearless #4 ACE Chemicals

=Somewhere Over the Atlantic Ocean=

 

Flannegan reaches into his pocket, offering Drury a paper bag of medication. "For the come down," he explains. Drury shakes his head in silence, and Flannegan empties the packet into his mouth.

 

"Shame. I liked her."

 

"You barely knew her..." Drury sighed.

 

"Know what I said..." Flannegan shrugs. "We need to get our story straight. Spontaneous combustion. That ought to do it."

Drury looks back in disgust, and returns to his phone.

 

"I'm not happy about it either! That limey, two-toned liver monkey escaped while I was mopping up people pieces. Your fault, by the way."

 

"Tell me something I don't know!" Drury yells.

 

...

 

"Your pal Chuck's at Ace Chemicals," Flannegan shrugs before going back to sleep and leaving Drury frustrated and very confused.

 

= ACE Chemicals=

 

It was all true. The bodies, the disappearances, it all led back here- ACE Chemicals. Of course it was ACE Chemicals... Always would be.

Smoke billowed from the enormous chimneys. Lights flickered on and off. He should have had it shut down years ago, he thought to himself.

The first sign came two weeks ago, a bird washed up on the coast, it's feathers bleached green, it's beak contorted into a sinister smile, and burnt.

 

We didn't connect it to the murders at first. I mean, we all thought it was *him,* it had all his signature flair... But deep down, I knew better... If Joker was up to something, he'd have announced it weeks ago on the evening news. No, this was different. All we needed to do was run a DNA test, identify it's species, and then that's when it all clicked into place. It was a crow...

 

He looks at the bodies on the ground- they're hard to miss. Strange, those are Crane's men...

 

"Don't worry about *them*... Wastes of time, the lot of them. Couldn't teach them anything, and their grades were atrocious," a voice whispers.

 

"Crane! I'm here!"

 

A yellow eye gleamed below him. Injured though he was, there was no mistaking Scarecrow's emotionless glare

 

Crane- Hello Batman. You know, I was rather hoping you'd show.

 

"Oh, you know Bats... shine a spotlight, and he'll glide right down," a raspy voice added.

 

Stepping out from the shadows, Crane stumbled into the light, smiling a toothy grin. The second voice spoke again, his red suit shining in the moonlight.

 

"Isn't that right, Bruce?"

 

Batman- Harvey... Where's Brown?

 

Dent laughs. "You're welcome to see him, if you like. It'd be my pleasure. But first, if you would-"

 

He points at the utility belt clasped around his waist. Bruce scowls, holding on tight.

 

"No matter," Crane smirks, as a yellow tentacle rips it from his grasp and throws it off the catwalk. "Please, we've been busy, and you- you'll be wondering what exactly we've cooked up, hmm? You'll know the laboratory quite well by now. This, is the fruits of our labour," he continues, taking a glass bottle from the laden shelves. "It has a long, drawn out, chemically accurate name, but we've taken to calling it Fearless.

 

"Brown, Crane."

 

"One moment, please. Just answer me this. What is the Batman without fear? Well?

He's but a man. And what does... *society* have to fear from an ordinary man? Two-Face?"

 

Two-Face- 'Pleasure. See, I reckon removing that fear factor you hide behind won't do you much good. They'll all see you for what you truly are, Bats- A kid playing dress up, a coward who hides his face! Because, the truth is, the truth you hide and deny, is that everyone- everyone, is just like me, ugly- inside and out. Thanks to Crane, the whole world'll know it. The criminals will have a vaccine against an "unstoppable" myth, but the ordinary citizens out there? They get something better. Their true nature exposed. Killers like us all!

 

Batman scoffs. "And you, Crane? How exactly are you going to maintain your shallow reputation? You're every bit the 'coward' I am.

 

"Don't condescend me Batman. Not here, not ever again. I need no longer *use* fear in my crimes, no, now I've mastered it."

 

Batman prepares a retort, but stops himself suddenly. "Me. You said "me" Harvey."

 

Two-Face laughs, running his hand through what's left of his hair. "Ha! You really don't get it, do you? The great detective, stumped for clues!"

 

"Get. What?" Batman demands, as Scarecrow's ring forms a gurney around him, strapping him down.

 

"Harvey's gone, Bats, couldn't you tell?"

 

=====Holding Cells=====

 

Once he's in, Gar immediately rips off his helmet and gasps for air. He'd entered through the waste duct, the same one The Red Hood had fallen through on one end, and emerged out the other. If he wasn't certain his suit was airtight, he would never have agreed to this.

It was almost funny. They'd counted on one thing: Scarecrow would never have thought anyone could be stupid or suicidal enough to break in this way. Chuck has to be near by, the pump room, now remodeled into Scarecrow's personal torture chamber, was the most secure place in the plant.

 

"Jesus." Gar stepped back, it was worse than he thought... Chuck *wasn't* the first. Far from it. He places his hand on the tape recorder and presses play, Scarecrow's drawl filling the room as he peers into each cell.

 

"Subject's name is Paul Dekker. Dekker is an... interesting specimen. He acts on impulse on a daily basis. He follows his hippie, free spirited mantra to the letter. The effects of Fearless are minimal, the man has no shame, and that's without the drug. If he will not desist with his displays of... affection with the other inmates, then, regrettably, termination may be required."

 

"Come and join the party Garfield! It's going to be a blast!" Dekker calls out, raising an imaginary glass to toast him.

 

"Subject's name is Mitchell Mayo. When I discovered Mayo, he was dying from kidney failure, an affect of the earthquake. We nursed back him to health, and he's been with us ever since. Mayo is one of our most successful subjects. Meek, and timid, the process has allowed him to emerge from his shell, louder and more confident than before. Could there be a place for something as laughable as the Condiment King in our new world order? With mustard gas, and hot sauce that burns like acid... there just might be."

 

Mayo rolls around in his cell, dirt covering his face and hands. "What's wrong, Firefly? Isn't this the part where you start laughing? Your kind, always quick to giggle!"

 

"Subject's name is Doctor Kirk Langstom. As a fellow scientist, I've always been a fan of Dr Langstom's work, it's all rather impressive. There's been many a time at Arkham where notes have been exchanged over the disgusting bowls of porridge served in the Asylum's canteen. Of course, the jewel of his research is his Man-Bat formula... Over the years, Langstom's been able to wrestle control over the beast's animal instincts, but once Fearless was employed, that control has melted away to nothing. Four men are dead, devoured. Not unlike the effects seen in Subjects A2 and D4 (See subfiles Doctor Grace Balin and Waylon Jones)"

 

The Man-Bat doesn't speak, it thrashes against the glass, roaring with animalistic ferocity. Gar nods, only a little bit terrified, and continues through the cell block.

 

"Subject's name is Charles Brown. A late bloomer. Dent tells me Charles is quite the fighter. Fearless tells a different story. He is full of limitless potential, but he is held back by his insecurities, and his grief. Edward Nygma murdered his child, an action which spiralled Brown into depression and finally... Kite-Man. "Hell Yeah," I believe his devotees say. He's a born leader. But he wants none of it. He just wants to do his son proud, and is *more* than happy to get himself killed along the way. He's a good man, in a world where the only people who act, are not."

 

======

 

"You know, I used to think you a totem of fear, it's master, but I've seen your true face now, and I'm... disappointed. You're just a puppet like the rest, aren't you, Wayne? A slave to fear, nothing."

 

Batman awakens to a cawing in his ear... Beside him, thousands of starved birds scream in cages.

 

"The chemical had an... Interesting effect on Mr Dent. It takes away limits, the mental barriers... Morality. And, Harvey Dent without morals? Well, that's just Two-Face," Scarecrow smiles, hobbling on his cane.

 

"And the first thing I did was melt that damn coin down and shape it into this. A silver bullet with your name on it. Let's see if *that* kills you," Two-Face continues, pulling his jacket aside to reveal his holstered pistol.

 

"Ironically, a little theatrical for my liking, hah. Not to mention... inaccurate. Silver bullets kill werewolves, not vampires. No. The *first* thing he did, was share your little secret, Wayne.

As you'll soon discover, this isn't just a toxin! It's a virus, carried by crows, rats, pigeons. And, like the vermin who carried the bubonic plague so many years ago, my toxin will infect millions."

 

Moonlight bounces off of Two-Face's blood soaked, patchworked face. "Tonight, Crane's pets will fly over those walls, infecting everyone they come into contact with- man, woman, child, and their moral inhibitions, will melt away."

 

Scarecrow- It's all rather amusing, to think that this is what happens when you remove fear from the equation- that fear of consequence, gone.

 

Two-Face- And what's left? People will do whatever they want, whenever they want, to whoever they want- theft, rape, murder, it'll all come pouring out. Everyone has those same dark thoughts you know, but now... now they're going to act on them. It'll be chaos. And then, *and* then, what'll separate them from us? Who'll be the *real* criminals?

 

"-I can cure them, of course, but, for a small fee. After all, what is research without a little... government funding."

 

Batman wrestles with his restraints. "I'll stop you."

 

Two-Face- But... you're in here. Heh. You can't stop those birds, no, no, no, not all of them. They'll spread across the city, and nothing will separate the innocent from the predatory.

 

Batman- You *know* how this ends.

 

"I know how it's *supposed* to end!" Scarecrow snaps back. "I've not just read the script, I've lived it, time and time again, always the same- I alter my toxins, Batman shuts me down, and I am transferred to the Asylum in a fresh body cast. Well no more! Time we broke that cycle. No more padded cells.

 

...

 

See, fear is everything, Batman. Fear is the power behind a gun. Fear is the mistress of extortion and blackmail. Fear is what drives us all, every doubt, every worry, that is *fear.* Without that, without fear, we have nothing. And that is exactly what those people will have when this night is through. Nothing."

 

"Hope, Crane. They'd have hope."

 

"You've been exchanging notes with the boyscout... Well, answer me this, Dark Knight! Tell me, do you think the bug has rescued Charles, yet?"

 

======

 

"Gar..." Chuck mutters, as Lynns takes out his flamethrower and smashes through the cell door. "You shouldn't have-"

"I'm going to fix this, Brown, alright? Don't speak."

 

"Yeah," Chuck smirks, "Yeah... Look out!"

 

A green hand pulls Gar back, it's grip melting away his armour- hotter than anything he's ever seen before; his skin, exposed to his attacker, starts to boil and sizzle, the mark of Doctor Phosphorus. It's skull-like features contort into a furious scowl.

 

"You're going to burn for this."

 

=====

 

"Lynns, Bats? The serial arsonist? The mass murderer! You really love your scarred-faced fuck-ups! Heading into battle with the Firefly, when you, you cut Harvey out of the loop for far less! Drop a little Fearless in his coffee and he might just burn Gotham to ash. Not before planting one on Walker, of course."

 

Crane chuckles to himself. "I don't care who you are. You're just a man, after all. But indulge me, tell me, what would you do if you found the man who killed them? The coward who ended the lives of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Would you be scared? Angry? Or would you sacrifice your moral compass just that once, and end him, just like he killed them all those years ago?"

 

Batman takes one look at Crane, and spits up blood, defiantly.

 

"Your silence speaks volumes, Dark Knight. Thank you."

 

 

Done