Batman Begins/Dark Knight 1. Chapter 1

**For Someone Who's Dead (MessrsMoony and Nigma) **

"The fear of death is the most unjustified of all fears, for there's no risk of accident for someone who's dead."

- Albert Einstein

The sound of silence inside the asylum was more defining than the loud explosions that usually accompanied a prisoners escape. It was far more horrific than the constant screams and groans of the asylums inhabitants, and far more chilling than the manic laughter of the Joker himself. No ... the silence meant something worse in the asylum. It carried whispers of death under the cracks of the doors, carried through the cracks in the walls and all anyone could do was wait.

The patients sat inside their cells, most confused or scared by what was happening. Not because they knew, but because they sensed. Their appointments stopped , then the meds. The doctors roamed the halls, none of which have changed their clothes in weeks, their hands void of their usual clipboards.

Jonathan sat sideways on his cot, leaning back against the wall, his feet propped up against the metal border of the silly excuse for a bed, his arms resting on his raised knees. He watched as one of the doctors walked slowly past his cell, not bothering to look into any of the cells to make sure the patients were still there.

Jonathan slowly moved off his bed, his short but lanky frame looking thinner in the past few days. Their food rations were starting to dwindle which could only mean one thing. The asylum was running out of food. Jonathan pressed his hands against the glass of the front of his cell and looked across at Edward Nigma.

"Hey! Eddie!" He said, knocking on his window as it would help to catch the man's attention. He knew Edward could hear him perfectly fine, just as he could any other time.

Edward Nigma lay on his bunk with his feet up against the wall. It wasn't the silence that bothered him, so much as the simple not knowing. Something was going on, something much bigger than Arkham, and he was trapped in here with no knowledge of the outside world.

He stared up at the vent on the other side of the cell. Too high to reach, of course. And his bunk was bolted into the floor. Or it had been, about a week ago. No one had noticed a few screws going loose (he smirked at the double meaning) from one inmate's bunk. All he needed now was a distraction. And, at the rate the tension was mounting, it wouldn't be long now. He frowned, and looked out across the hallway.

He sighed. "Yes, Jonathan?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes at Edwards clear annoyance of him. "Nevermind." Jonathan said going back to his cot and flopping back down again. He stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity before he looked back over at Riddler. "Do you have any ideas on how to get out of here?" He asked suddenly.

Jonathan should have made his escape weeks ago but his 'visitor' who was to assist him in his escape - one of his henchmen - never showed up. Jonathan made a mental note to severely punish the man for allowing him to rot in this place. If there was one thing Jonathan prided himself with was his sanity, and in this place he felt his mind slipping the longer he was in here. After all, it wasn't Jonathan that was crazy, it was Scarecrow that was.

Nigma raised an eyebrow, a quiet smirk slowly spreading across his face. So, then. He wasn't the only one going stir crazy. He rolled off of his bunk, neatly straightened out his awful grey uniform, and strolled over to the glass, taking his own sweet time. He glanced up and down the hallway, but the precaution was little more than a residual habit now. No one was paying attention.

"I might have a few," he shrugged, then leaned against the glass. "Why ever do you ask?"

Jonathan looked at him as if he'd truly gone crazy. "If you haven't noticed ... our food rations are dwindling, meaning we're running out of food ... Meaning within a week or so, we're all going to be too weak to escape and within a few days after that, we'll be near if not dead from starvation." He said looking at him as if he were stupid. "I'm sure you've figured it out by now. Even if everyone else hasn't." He said. "I want out, and unfortunately my plan fell through ... If I'm going to die the last place I want it to be is here." He said leaning back against the wall again, has back making a loud thump against the cement wall.

"Now, I don't know what going on outside. But clearly it's not good. The doctors haven't left in weeks, nor changed shifts, nor clothes or ..." Jonathan cringed. "Bathed." He said, clearly not enjoying his own current scent any better than anyone else's. He could smell Killer Croc from all the way down the hall. Jonathan wasn't even going to bother thinking about the amount of stubble that had grown on his face in the past few weeks. If he was actually capable of growing much facial hair he was sure he'd have a beard by now. "But I know what's in here. And in here isn't looking all too good. Even in comparison to its usual standards."

The Riddler's smirk settled in comfortably.

It really was entertaining to watch Crane get all worked up about something. Unless, of course, it was when Edward was trying to sleep. Or plan an escape. Or his next heist.

But, at the moment, there really nothing else to occupy his mind. Nothing that didn't fill him with a creeping sense of anxiety, anyway.

The Scarecrow was right, of course, from a practical sense. There would be no point in staying around here, stagnating in the collective stench of unwashed, unfed Arkham.

"I suppose so. But the question is..." Edward tapped his uncharacteristically prickly chin, then suddenly fixed Crane with a more focused stare. "Why should I bring you with me?"

There would be a good answer, of course. The Scarecrow had been operating in Gotham's underworld long enough not to expect to get something for nothing. But it needed to be understood that Nigma knew it too.

Anything less would be a display of vulnerability, and the Riddler had no intention of setting himself up to get stabbed in the back.

"Whatever is out there ... it's keeping a staff of over 150 guards and 90 doctors afraid to set a single foot outside of this asylum. We've been on lock down for far too long. There is something out there, it's a matter of what. Now, while brawn is great for a physical fight, you can't tell me that intelligence doesn't win out. And they do always say two heads are better than one." He said staring at Nigma. "Besides ... If I don't contribute to either of our survival ... I'm sure you could always just try to trip me and slow whatever is out there down. That is, unless you'd prefer someone with more brawn, I'm sure Killer Croc would love to get out of here." He said jabbing his thumb in the direction of the idiotic hulk like being.

"Let's face it ... if whatever is out there is bad enough to scare over 150 guards ... there's no way you'll make it on your own. You may be one of the most intelligent people in here ... but you don't know everything. Put that intelligence to good use, you know you need me as much as I'll need you out there."

It was all Edward could do not to visibly wince at the mere mention of Killer Croc. That insufferable mound of blundering muscle was the last ally called for in a situation like this. Yet the idea that Edward Nigma, the Riddler, the most brilliant mind in Gotham needed another intellect to supplement his own was... irritating to say the least. As if he weren't more intelligent than any of those muscle-bound guards and incompetent doctors!

The Riddler passed it off with his most nonchalant of shrugs. "Stupid people in large numbers are easy to frighten, Crane. You know that better than anyone. Still..."

He has a point and you know it.

"I think we can arrange something. We're going to need a distraction. And if anyone else is planning their exit, I doubt they'll be as subtle about it as you or I would."

"I'm sure Croc or Bane would try barreling for the front door and get tranqued within seconds." Jonathan said with a slightly laugh. "I agree ... if we are to get out it would have to be quietly. I didn't exactly intend on walking out the front door. Jonathan looked up at the vent that was in his own room, the vent that was supposed to be ventilating fresh air into his cell. The only thing it did now was tease him as a route of escape, and a way for the stench of the building to get into his cell. Even if he managed to unbolt the bed from the floor, which he could easily do within minutes, he still wouldn't be tall enough to reach the vent, even if he jumped. Jonathan cursed for more than the millionth time in his lifetime his short height.

Then again ... Jonathan looked down at the sheet on his bed. No ... that would still require him getting up to the vent to unscrew it ... Damn and blast it all ... "What did you have in mind?" Jonathan asked, hating that he'd have to rely on Nigma to get him out. He knew Nigma had been subtly unscrewing his bed from the floor and the man had the height to reach the vent. If he did, he could come and unlock the door. It wouldn't be hard to swipe a key card from one of the guards without them noticing. Especially as of late.

Jonathan jumped and ran to the front window of his call as a loud scream echoed through the hall. It wasn't a cry of an inmate, it was a doctor. At first he thought it was an inmate escaping, but then two guards ran down the hall away from where the scream had come from, which turned into more screams.

Edward watched Crane's eyes move to the vents in each of their cells, and smiled. He was certainly thinking along the right lines; all he needed was a boost. There were certainly worse people to escape with.

He opened his mouth to explain his plan...

And then the screaming started.

The Riddler frowned, eyebrows knitting together as he craned his neck, trying to get a look at what was happening. No luck. It was too far down the hallway.

He shot a glare across the hallway. "Did you- Never mind."

Whatever it was, it would suffice as a distraction.

Nigma quickly dragged his bed under the vent, the telltale scraping of steel on concrete completely drowned out by the screaming down the hallway.

Honestly, if Crane had already had a distraction planned, he might have had the decency to say so...

He popped the cover off of the vent and, as an afterthought, ripped the sheet off of his bunk to take with him.

"I'll crawl over to your side!" he shouted to make himself heard. "And pull you up."

And with that, he hauled himself up into the air vent, and clambered over to the other side of the hallway, to where it opened up into Crane's cell.

Nigma popped out the second ventilation cover, and let the sheet dangle into the cell.

"Hurry!"

On second thought, he reflected, this might be a terrible idea. Jonathan looked like just the type to have failed the rope climb in high school gym class.

Jonathan watched Nigma as he popped out the vent and tossed down the sheet. He looked at him as if the man had gone crazy. Even if he wasn't half starved there was no way he'd be able to climb that. Jonathan looked back towards the window as the screaming got louder and his eyes widened in fear as something flew at the glass of his cell. Blood smeared the window as whatever it was on the outside stopped outside his window and stared at him. Jonathan stared at it a moment. It was Dr. Reynolds.

Jonathan walked slowly towards the window, staring at the doctor as he saw a few other doctors fly past, all of them covered in blood and running rather ... oddly. Jonathan looked at Dr. Reynolds as she stared back at him. Her eyes where blood shot and yellow, her teeth clacking together as she followed his movements. Jonathan took in her entire appearance, committing it to memory before he backed away from the window as more of them approached. One of them might not be able to break the glass, but who knew what a whole swarm of them could do. The hallway was quickly filling with them, screams of the other inmates echoed through the halls, the grunts and cries of whatever it was that was attacking the asylum becoming more and more, over powering the screams. Jonathan turned to the vent as he heard the shattering of the window behind him.

Rope be damned, he had to get into that vent, it was his only way out. He ran at the vent half expecting Riddler to be gone, but surprisingly the sheet was still sticking out of the vent. Jonathan ran at the wall quickly, adrenaline boosting him half way up the wall already before he grabbed onto the sheet and pulling himself up. He felt something grab onto his foot and cried out as he grabbed onto the lip of the vent and kicked what ever had grabbed him away. It took a few good well placed kicks before it let go.

Funny, he didn't recall the old orderly being that strong.

Crane's adrenaline-fueled leap into the vent surprised him, but not nearly as much as the apparent carnage that had engulfed the hallway. Or the hand still clinging to Jonathan's foot as he scrambled into the vent. Once the Scarecrow was safely inside, Edward slammed the vent cover back into place, and hurried off down the ventilation shaft, taking a sharp turn to the right, moving as quietly as he could.

Given the chaos out there, though, he doubted anyone would hear them.

((A/N - And here's chapter one of our Batman fic. Hope you all enjoy - more to come. And please R&R))


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"This way," he whispered. He was speaking very fast, for some reason. "I memorized Arkham's floor plans and ventilation system ages ago. We can get to where they hold confiscated items, things we came in with, take what we need, and get out."

Yes, just think about that. Think about the plan. Think about navigating, where we're going. That's easy. Don't think about...

He turned to look back at the Scarecrow.

"Jonathan," Edward's voice shook very slightly. "What... was that?"

Jonathan looked at Edward as he was moving in front of him, but turning towards him had slowed him down. "Keep moving, and keep quiet!" Jonathan hissed quietly. Nigma's voice was far to loud and echoed through the ventilation shaft. Jonathan paused and as he felt a shudder under them. "Keep moving ... keep-" Jonathan was cut off as the ventilation shaft was jolted hard enough Jonathan shot up against the top of it before landing back down on the metal ground. "Go!" Jonathan said a bit louder as he crawled through the ventilation shaft. He felt the thud again, though this time a few feet behind him. He heard the creaking of metal and the pop of bolts. Jonathan felt himself sliding backwards slowly as light filled the ventilation shaft. He gripped the sides, using force to press himself against each side of the square tube, stopping his drop downwards. Jonathan looked up at Nigma who was already safely on the other shaft ... Jonathan looked around, assessing his situation as he heard groans and thunks as whatever they were climbed up the vent towards him, though none of them seemed to be able to get purchase as Jonathan had.

Jonathan moved his hand up slowly, inching his way up the shaft towards Nigma. "Don't concentrate on him ..." He heard Scarecrow yell inside his mind. "Get yourself out of this Johnny! It's what you're good at! They're just bullies Johnny! Bullies, nothing more!"

Jonathan cleared his mind as he focused on what he was doing, calming his pounding heart as he attempted to climb further up the shaft. Jonathan squeeked as the shaft was jostled again and he slipped down closer to the ... things ... at the bottom. He looked up at Nigma unsure of what to do. There was no way he was going to be able to climb up. He could hear the groaning of metal and knew it wouldn't be long before it completely broke off.

He was as good as dead ... Nigma never cared for anyone but himself ... he'd save himself and leave Jonathan there to ... to what? Jonathan looked down at the things at the bottom, the entire bottom of the shaft covered in red and black blood, hands clawing and scratching at the metal trying to reach him. Jonathan reached his hand up against to try to pull himself back up again but the shaft jumped again causing him to fall yet another foot, barely inches away from the pawing hands. This was it ...

At the massive shudder and jolt in the ventilation shaft, Nigma scrambled further along down the dark metal tunnel as fast as his hands and knees could propel him. Metal creaked and groaned, jarring him down to his bones, and bolts popped out as sudden light shone down from below. No. No, they couldn't be that strong. There's no way they were...

Edward turned.

They were pulling the ventilation shaft down out of the ceiling.

And Crane was caught on a slope right down toward them.

Edward looked on in horror at the bloody hands, somehow powerful enough to do this, vacant, thoughtless eyes, gaping mouths and wordless groaning...

Go, already! He told himself. He'll either follow or he won't.

There was a moment when the Scarecrow could have feasibly pulled himself back up.

Then the metal ventilation shaft jostled further, bringing Crane that much closer to...to them. He was practically on a slide now. Physics was against him. There was no way he was going to make it back up.

'_Go, dammit! Before you're next!'_

But the Riddler was frozen in place.

He could have the answer. In just a moment, the mystery would be solved. He would know, once and for all, what these things were, what they did, what he was up against. All he had to do was watch.

It wasn't as if he owed Crane anything. It wasn't as if Crane hadn't known what he was getting into. All this had ever been was an alliance of convenience, mutual self-interest, to be dissolved as soon as either party ceased his usefulness to the other. It wasn't as if Crane would have done any differently.

The man knew better than to ask him for help. It was written right there in those wide eyes looking up at him: Crane fully expected Nigma to let him die.

The ventilation shaft lurched again, Jonathan slipped another foot, and Edward leapt forward, grasping Jonathan's outstretched hand in both of his. With all the strength he had, he hauled Crane back up onto the level surface. He didn't stop to catch his breath. He didn't say a word, or look behind him. Edward just kept going, quickly and quietly as possible, and turned the next corner.

From that point, the Riddler confined his questions to his own head, barely daring to breathe, no matter how much his lungs burned or his heart pounded.

How had those things gone unchecked so long that Arkham had started to run out of supplies? Surely Batman should have made it his self-righteous little mission to put a stop to it? Unless... there were just too many of them. All of Gotham must be overrun. Maybe even beyond Gotham. Okay, then. The plan. Would the plan still work? Maybe. He doubted any guards would be hanging around near Confiscated Items, not with this madness breaking out. So there would be no one there for the...things to attack. Assuming they were mainly motivated to attack people.

He and Crane would have to be much, much more careful. But they should still be able to arm themselves and get out.

And... and then what? If this... outbreak was really that widespread? They'd have to come up with a new plan. He could feel the beginnings of panic starting to rise in his chest. He hadn't planned for this, hadn't thought that far ahead, what was he going to do without a plan? He needed to have a plan.

Focus! He could worry about that later.

A few twists and turns later, they were right above the room they needed. Before even going near the opening in the vent, Nigma stopped, listened intently, and motioned for Crane to do the same.

Jonathan moved his hand up on the vent subconsciously trying to find something to pull himself up with. He whimpered as one of the things reached his foot, gripping onto his ankle in a deathly grip. Jonathan wouldn't scream, no matter what happened the master of fear would not submit to screaming. Though as he looked down at the thing holding him, clacking its teeth at him, Jonathan wasn't sure how long that thought would last out.

Jonathan tried to shake off the thing that held him as he felt Nigma grab onto his hand and pull him up. The thing didn't let go of him as he was pulled up, it's lower half pinned by others trying to scramble up the shaft over top of it. Jonathan felt pain in his ankle as it was pulled up, it's upper body tearing away from its lower half under the weight of the other things.

The thing didn't even seem fazed by the separation from its lower half. As Jonathan landed safely on the other vent he kicked at the thing he could only describe as a zombie. The zombie continued tryig to bite him as Nigma crawled away from him. The vent around him once again started groaning as Jonathan gave it one more swift hard kick, the zombie falling down the shaft as the already broken vent snapped and fell to the ground with a soft thud as it landed on a pile of moving squirming bloody bodies.

The vent around him shuttered and he crawled after Nigma, moving quickly through the vent. The farther he got the quieter the moans and groans and angry hisses became. But that was no indication of safety Jonathan knew they would have to move quickly. He caught up with Nigma and crept past him as the man listened. There was no time to hesitate. As he said before ... He didn't know what was in there, but he knew what was back there. And what was back there was sure to follow them.

Jonathan kicked out the grate and poked his head out cautiously before sliding from the vent and landing softly on the table underneath. Jonathan thought back to when they'd even attacked. They hadn't known they were there until Nigma started talking. If they stayed quiet, and out of sight, they should be able to make it out alright.

Jonathan didn't look back at Nigma to see if he was coming as he ran for the box that security always kept in the same place. The box contained what little he'd come to the asylum with, his costume complete with mask and hat, a pen and some crumpled paper, and a ripped ten dollar bill. Jonathan grabbed a small duffle bag from the other side of the room, emptying its contents onto the floor before shoving what he owned into the bag, minus the bill. He began riffling through other bags, looking for anything of use. There wasn't anything in here he could use as a weapon.

((A/N – And there's chapter 2, I hope you all enjoyed and as always- please R&R))


	3. Chapter 3

Edward winced when Crane just kicked in the grate and popped his head out into the open, but apparently all was clear, and the Scarecrow dropped lightly down into the room and set to work. Admittedly, Crane's way was quicker.

Edward didn't wait a moment longer before following, lowering himself quietly into the room, and padding silently to where his own things were kept. He stuffed the green suit, tie, and bowler hat into a duffel bag, and took up his cane. If necessary, it might come in handy as a bludgeoning weapon.

On that note, where was Harley's box? If he recalled, she had definitely been brought in swinging a large wooden mallet... Aha! He located her confiscated items and, on further inspection, determined that it was indeed a plain, wooden mallet, not concealing any noisy tricks, explosives, or other extraneous paraphernalia. Given how the creatures seemed to react to noise, it was probably best not to be too reliant on anything unnecessarily loud.

He shoved the mallet into the bag, and moved on quietly, eyes shifting about for any sign that they might be pursued.

"Where is it?" Jonathan hissed as he looked through the room, digging through objects as quickly and quietly as he could. The only real important piece of his costume at the moment, was missing. Jonathan quietly groaned and gave up, his scythe was missing he still had no weapon. He could hear the creatures coming towards them though their pursuits seemed slower. They had nothing to chase. Not yet. Jonathan looked to the Riddler who was shoving Harley's mallet into his bag. Had another inpatient already been through here and taken his scythe?

Jonathan didn't have time to think about it as he moved to the door of the security room. There was only one way out. He motioned Edward over to him and looked at him, his hand on the door knob wondering if he was ready.

Edward looked over, frowning, as Crane hissed to himself. Was something missing? What could possibly be-

The Scarecrow's scythe.

Edward raised an eyebrow as the other man gave up his search and moved toward the door. Did Crane have something else up his sleeve, or was he honestly planning to go out there unarmed? Bad enough that they were about to just step out into the unknown, without a definite plan. But to go out there with nothing...what were this man's nerves even made of?

He heard the creatures moving, back in the direction they'd came. More slowly now, directionless, but on their way.

When it came down to it, what choice did either of them have?

Edward nodded.

Jonathan slowly turned the handle, pausing with a wince as it creaked just slightly. He pulled the door open slowly, watching through the crack if the door. The hallway was clear. Luckily Jonathan knew the asylums halls better than the back of his own hand. He squeezed through the crack of the door keeping himself pressed against the wall. He was in a hospital for crying out loud, there had to be something.

The manic laughter of the Joker echoed through the halls sending a chill straight down Cranes spine. Only the Joker would be able to find humour in this. Jonathan moved through the hall, ignoring the sound of the laughter that all to quickly turned into a loud gurgling noise. Jonathan felt like he was going to be sick, but held it back as he stopped by a corner and cautiously peered around the corner.

Edward followed Crane's lead, squeezing through the crack in the door to avoid any further noise... though with significantly more difficulty than the scrawny Scarecrow. He cautiously followed Crane out into the hall, keeping close, his cane at his side, held at the ready. So far, the coast was clear, and if they could just move quietly enough, stay out of sight, it just might stay that way...

The Joker's cackling hit his ears like nails on a chalkboard. He would think this was funny, demented freakazoid that he was. Stealth and caution, apparently, were for lesser mortals than...

The laughter changed abruptly into something entirely different. Edward swallowed. The Joker. They got the Joker. At the end of the world, the only things left, he had long been convinced, were going to be cockroaches and the Joker. And now... Edward swallowed the panic, and clenched his hands into trembling fists, his right hand holding his cane in a sweaty death-grip.

He stopped behind Crane, pressed close to the wall as if he could somehow sink into it and become invisible, and waited while Crane peered around the corner.

Jonathan moved around the corner, wishing he didn't have to be in the lead. He was sure the only reason riddler was even following him was because he knew the asylum better than he did. Te entrance wasn't far from where they were, but who knew what was in the way. Jonathan made his way quickly but quietly trough the hall jumping through the broken gate, his small frame fitting trough easily. He reached the next corner and peered around quickly. The hall was clear. It was a straight line to the entrance.

Jonathan looked back at Riddler, before moving down the hall. Jonathan moved quickly before skidding to a halt half way down the hall. Two zombies came around the corner, neither of which noticed Jonathan yet.

He paused and glanced at Riddler. "There's only two of them ... We can take them ..." He whispered to quietly for the things to hear him. Just as Jonathan said this four more came around the corner. As soon as one saw then standing there all six of them charge towards them. "On second thought ... Run."

Edward kept in step with Crane, beginning to appreciate the smaller man's ability to easily maneuver through tight spots. He was quick, too, especially for someone with so short a stride. And if Crane was going to take the lead through Arkham Asylum, Edward felt inclined to let him.

Crane skidded to a halt, and Edward froze, watching the two oblivious things drifting along.

He was about to agree to Crane's plan, when the other creatures arrived, and swarmed straight toward them.

The second idea suddenly sounded much better.

Edward didn't need to be told twice; he ran.

Jonathan scrambled and tripped, landing hard on his face as Riddler ran down the hall. He quickly got up and ran after him, quickly catching up with Riddler and over taking him as he turned down a hall. "This way!" He hissed, not wanting to attract more. He turned down the corner and past a door catching the attention of two more which gave chase as well. "We have to get around to the atrium and cross to the west wing corridor and double back to the main entrance. I'll have to disable the lock down system before we can get out. We'll need to buy us a few minutes." Jonathan said as he turned another corner and ran into the small atrium inside the Asylum. Luckily it was empty. Jonathan closed the double doors behind them and picked up a fallen piece of a bannister, shoving it into the large door handles to hold it shut. "Come on!" He said running in the direction he'd come. He knew if it wasn't for him Riddler would have been dead by now, but there was no way Nigma was going to acknowledge it ... just as Jonathan wasn't going to acknowledge that Riddler had saved his life.

Jonathan ran through another door to his right, slowing down to a jog, ignoring the blood that was running from his nose. The blocked door would give them a bit of time to relocate and silence themselves once more. The things didn't seem to have a good sense of direction, they followed sound, and movement. If they couldn't see or hear them ... They had to start being more cautious, it was a miracle either one of them was still alive.

Edward heard Crane fall, and looked over his shoulder behind him, but by that point, Crane was already up and making a mad dash forward, passing him, and leading the way.

Edward followed him, heart racing in his chest, doubling its time when two more of the things gave chase.

Helpful thoughts were not forthcoming, or any thoughts beyond a repetitive chorus of: "We're going to die." But Crane knew where they were going, how to improvise, how to buy time. If it weren't for him... well, thinking about that wouldn't be helpful either, now would it?

Only once they were beyond the blocked door did his head start to clear, to focus again on thinking ahead. They stood a chance now, of regaining the benefit of stealth, of going unnoticed again. He rolled the Scarecrow's plan around in his head. It was a good one, the best they had, really, and it could work. If they could manage to avoid further... encounters.

Jonathan made his way into the main hallways, narrowly sneaking past to that where in an adjacent room and closed the door quietly behind it after Nigma got through. He blocked the door and pointed to the other one opposite for Nigma to quietly do the same. The only other entrance was the stair well leading upstairs and as far as he knew, the only people up there anymore where the inpatients that where still locked in their cells. They would no doubt starve to death in the coming days. It didn't matter to Jonathan as he opened the small door to the security panel.

He waited until Nigma returned to his side and said quietly. "This is going to set off an alarm, but it'll be throughout the whole building so hopefully it'll be enough to confuse them and won't attract them to this location." He said, not mentioning that two thirds of the power grid in the asylum where blank. Meaning two thirds of the asylum currently didn't have power and there for the only alarms that will go off would be in this section. Hopefully the doors would hold long enough for them to get out. Who knows, the alarms in the nearby rooms might even be enough to buy them time.

"Stand by the door, have your weapon ready. I'm going to turn off the security systems, and I'll be over to where you are. It'll take a full sixty seconds for the metal door to click at the top before the outer door will be able to open at all. Are you ready?"

Edward followed Jonathan and, at his signaled direction, quietly blocked the other door. He hated having to follow someone else's directions like this, hated having to rely on someone else's knowledge of the layout, and he hated not being the one with the plan. But every move Crane made was reasonable, every decision sound, and right now, it was the only option.

So, Edward listened in silence as Crane filled him in on the next step. Once they were able to get out, they would have to move fast. And if those things found them while they were still trapped here... things would go badly for them. But an analysis of the situation provided no alternative. At least there were no alternatives for Crane either, and therefore no real chance of betrayal. This was it.

With cane in hand, Nigma stood by the door. He nodded to let Crane know he was as ready as he would ever be.

((A/N – and there's chapter 3 – hope you all enjoy and as always please R&R))


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan hit the switch and ran over to the door as the metal started sliding upwards, the alarm was already going off loud and clear and he could hear the ... things ... screeching and hissing. He could hear footsteps but the footsteps weren't coming at them. They seemed confused on the other sides of the doors. With any luck they could make it out of here without any of them coming down the ... Jonathan paused as three came down the main stair well barreling towards them ... stairs. Jonathan stood behind Nigma, mainly because the man had a weapon and he didn't.

He looked around, the zombies where nearly on them and the door wasn't even a foot up. He looked around and caught the gleam of black as the red light from the alarm light flashed over it. That was it! Jonathan dove out from behind Nigma and ducked under the swinging arm of a zombie, its hand narrowly missing him as Jonathan dove towards the over turned hospital gurney. He grabbed onto the black baton that the guards used and swung at the zombie that was directly behind him, his hands already on his shoulders ready to bite him as he swung. Blood splattered onto his face as the thing fell to the ground dead.

"Aim for the head!" He said as he jumped over the fallen body.

Two feet off the ground. The door was taking far too long. More footsteps where coming. They were making too much noise even over the siren.

Edward listened, tense, as the alarm started wailing out through the asylum. Those things were out there, definitely, and in a frenzy over the flashing light and noise, but the witless things seemed to make no connection between the disturbance and this room... yet. They could make it. This could work, they could make it, they could...

Incoming.

Three of them came rushing down the stairs, and Edward took note of Crane standing behind him. He glanced back at the door... Not even a foot up. Alright, then. Time to make a fight of it.

Edward shifted the cane in his hand, gripping it toward the bottom, and swung it at the nearest assailant, using the solid, question-mark-shaped handle as a bludgeoning end. The thing's sternum cracked on impact, and discolored blood splattered. But still it kept coming.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crane dive out from behind him and make an insanely brave dash for the old hospital gurney. Before Edward could say "Look out behind you," Crane came up swinging a guard's baton, and dropped the creature with a hit to the skull.

"Of course, the head," Edward muttered, and swung his cane at the nearest wretched thing again, spattering blood and cranial matter across the floor. "Always has to be the head."

Of all the cliché creatures that they just had to be exactly like, even though there was absolutely no way such a thing could possibly be real...

Nigma aimed another swing for the third one. Well. Logically impossible zombies? He could fix that problem. One at a time.

He glanced down at the door.

Jonathan moved back over to Nigma and stood behind him, though this time he wasn't hiding. His back was pressed against his, watching Nigma's back, though it was more so for his own benefit than Nigma's. If he was watching his back, Nigma would be smart enough to watch his. After all, he had to watch his own front.

Jonathan glanced down at the door as he knocked another zombie to the ground, stomping on its head to kill it. Three feet. They could make it. Pounding on the doors sounded on either side of them. "We're fucked." Jonathan said, swearing for what must have been the first time in his life.

Edward felt Crane's back against his, a reassuring barrier between him and anything that might come creeping up from behind. A simple, logical act for mutual self-interest, it felt like the beginnings of a strategy, an almost tangible increase in their chances for survival.

This was manageable.

...And then the doors started pounding. The Scarecrow's reaction was far from reassuring.

"Shut up," he hissed, and glanced down at the door. "There's got to be a way to speed this up."

Nothing was forthcoming.

"Or something to buy us more time."

Jonathan looked back at the door. Five feet. It still had another eight feet to go. They weren't even half way there, and there wasn't even a guarantee they would be able to get the door open. "Well, you got any bright ideas?" Jonathan asked swinging at another zombie that came flying down the stairs. Jonathan hit its head like a baseball player with a bat, it's head flying from its body and hitting the wall.

He could hear the gears in the door turning, pulling the heavy doors up. "Cause my only remaining plan isn't sounding so good in my own head!" He said knowing the only other option they had was suicide. There was no getting out of this. He heard gun shots come from upstairs and glanced at the stairs. The booming on the doors stopped as a doctor came running down the stairs, the gun shots still continuing from upstairs.

"Dr. Mathison!" Crane said as the doctor hit the bottom of the stairs. The doctor was covered in blood, though it didn't seem his own. Dr. Mathison's appearance was a surprise, though short lived as a zombie leaped from the second floor banister, barrelling straight down on the doctor, it's teeth cutting into his arm before Jonathan flew forward and knocked it back kicking it in the head and stomping down on it.

"I'm thinking!" Edward snapped, clubbing two more mindless assailants in the skull. These were not, by any means, circumstances contusive to concentration.

Still, he refused point-blank to just give up and die here, trapped right in front of the door to freedom, in a drab, unwashed, gore-spattered Arkham uniform, because of an unthinking, dead-eyed horde of ridiculous, reality-defying, biologically improbable zombies.

Besides, armed only with bludgeoning weapons, suicide was looking unfeasible anyway, and he refused to waste time attempting to plan better ways to off himself.

If he could just concoct some form of distraction...

The gunshots upstairs took him by surprise, and he almost couldn't believe that the booming so suddenly ceased.

"That'll work."

It was just as improbable as the zombies, but he'd take it.

A doctor came running down the stairs, but the gunfire continued.

Perfect. If there were more staff fighting it out upstairs, the noisy distraction would continue as long as their ammo held out, presenting plenty of other targets to occupy the creatures' attention. For now.

And the doctor would have security clearance. If there was any missing key or extra step to get the actual door open once the large metal one had finally cleared, there was a good chance each doctor would have it.

Another teeth-gnashing monster sprang for the Riddler's throat, and he slammed its head into the wall with his cane, dashing its brains (such as they were) out from both sides. So he was too late to stop the creature falling on the doctor from above. Crane pounced immediately after, and stomped the monster like an insect.

As for the Dr. Mathison... he had already been bitten.

A chill ran down Edward's spine. Before long, they would know just how much like movie zombies these things were.

"Crane," Edward eyed the Arkham doctor warily for any tell-tale signs, and casually moved within swinging distance. "Move away from Dr. Mathison."

It wouldn't come to that, of course. What he suspected was logically impossible. He would laugh about his momentary lapse in reason later. Because it was ludicrous that Dr. Mathison would suddenly change into... something else, right in front of them. But right now, however implausible that scenario might be, the Riddler was not willing to risk it.

Dr. Mathison laid on the floor a few minutes gripping his arm before his body seized back, his body starting to shake as if he were having a seizure for a few seconds before he flipped over onto his stomach.

"Six ... seven ..." Jonathan whispered under his breath as the doctor stopped moving. "Eight ... nine ... ten ... eleven ... twelve ..." The doctor shot up like a crouching angry cat and looked at them. Jonathan moved back as it jumped to his feet. He stared at Dr. Mathison - or what used to be Dr. Mathison for a moment before he swung forward, the baton crushing into his skull at the same time as the giant metal barrier clicked into place at the top of the door. He moved to the doctors body, cringing at the stench that was already reeking off his body. He grabbed the key card from the doctors jacket and ran for the door.

Edward's stomach turned as Dr. Mathison's body twisted and contorted, taking on the dead eyes and ashen, veiny appearance of disease and death in mere seconds. It felt completely surreal. It couldn't be happening, yet it simply was. Crane seemed well aware of the situation. In fact, he appeared to be observing it, documenting it mentally and storing it in his head for further application later.

Always the scientist.

What was left of Dr. Mathison sprung up on the attack, but Crane already had the situation under control. Edward focused on keeping his ally covered, caving in skulls left and right as more of them approached, allowing Crane to get the card key, much to Edward's satisfaction. There were certainly far worse people he could have escaped with.

Edward ran after Crane as he went for the door, covering his back and bludgeoning any more mindless, teeth-clacking zombies that got in their way.

Jonathan's heart pounded as the banging on the doors got louder, the wooden boards in the door handles starting to shudder and break. He slipped the key card through the door, it's red light flicking to green. Jonathan didn't know what was on the other side, but his fear of what was in here outweighed his fear of the unknown.

Jonathan grabbed onto the handle and pushed, the door giving little resistance. Unfortunately the security system could only be reactivated by the inside. Jonathan quickly assessed the situation. There seemed to be few of them on the grounds and the only way out of the asylum was the front door. He doubted these things were smart enough to get that door open but who knew what they were capable of.

Crane had the door open quickly, and none too soon; the thumping and pounding on the other doors seemed to have returned tenfold, and their makeshift barrier wouldn't last.

Thoughts raced through Edward's head. There was no way to make the steel door come down behind them from the outside. Would the front door open again without a key? Edward wasn't sure. These things were clearly able to break down a door, given strong enough numbers, but that took time. Could they open a door? For all he knew, they could. And the only way to keep them in if they wanted out bad enough was... to reactivate the security system.

_Fuck._

No way of convincing Crane to do it, and no time to bicker.

Edward tossed his duffle bag over to Crane and snarled: "Keep that door open, or I swear I'll come back and bite you."

Given the circumstances, it wasn't as lame a threat as it should have been.

Then he sprinted to the security control panel, spilling out anagrams and curses in equal, jumbled measure under his breath, cane snapping out to fell a zombie as it lunged for him. He skidded to a halt at the controls, eyes flicking back and forth from the besieged doors (now groaning and creaking inward, convex with the weight of God knew how many blood-thirsty monsters) to their exit. He flipped the switch, and sprinted headlong back toward the door.

The larger, metal door was lowering slowly enough; that wasn't his worry. But there was nothing to keep Crane from slamming the door behind it in his face, taking the card key with him. The only thing Crane could be counted on to do was save his own skin.

_Damn-damn-damn-damn..._

Almost there, glaring at Crane all the way. _If you lock me in here now I swear I'll..._ What? Become a mindless killing machine? _Damn it!_ He dove for the door.

((A/N - Aaaaand there's chapter 4 another loooong week gone by. Hope you all enjoyed and until next week when I update Chalk outline ... Hope you all enjoy, please R&R. New chapters every week, alternating between For Someone Who's Dead and Chalk Outline. Busy busy bees we are. :D ))


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Batman Begins/Dark Knight