Okay guys well I think that this story is coming to a close in the next chapter, but don't quote me. And yes in both Scarecrow is gonna have lots of fun. Anyway just on my Harry Potter high and felt a little inspired. I hope that you guys like this one, I certainly did. I feel bad for the guy, he's a supervillain, he should get the upper hand sometimes right?

Jonathan wasn't sure where he would go, wasn't really sure what his plan would entail. He had successfully escaped from the police, but what would come next? He thought for a moment.

We could always squeal on the Bat-freak...

"No! No, that's not good enough. We need something that'll break him, something that'll ruin him."

Well that sounds great an' all but he's Batman.

"Yes," Jonathan said grinning," but he's also Bruce Wayne."

And suddenly it hit Jonathan. He knew exactly what he had to do and he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

. .. . .. .

Bruce bandaged the damaged fingers gingerly. He knew that had Joker been conscious he would have complained about the gentle treatment but he didn't care. He pulled the bandage against the splint tightly and the Joker let out a faint groan, his eyebrows furrowing. He smiled and continued to work on the finger.

Guilty.

He felt guilty about the entire ordeal, it had been brain-melting, agonizing, beautiful, ravenous, sex, but the way he had acted wasn't himself. During the hour that he had fucked the clown senseless and eventually into unconsciousness he had not been himself.

Joker against the wall begging, screaming, chuckling as he was taken forcefully, his blood marring the pristine cream paint.

His own nails leaving crescent maroon colored imprints on the writhing body beneath him as he thrust into the clenching heat over and over again.

"Fuck," Bruce whispered, because in his heart, in his head, he was already thinking of when the Joker would wake up and he could have him again.

. .. . .. .

Jonathan parked at the hideout he had been using post-Ra's al Ghul. It was in the more seedy part of town, and was in terrible misuse. His hideout he had booby-trapped in any event that he were captured and stepping inside he checked to see how that turned out. He smiled at the terror striken face of a body. It was decaying but its lips were pulled back in an agonizing snarl. He liked it.

So, what next?

Jonathan smiled and headed towards his stash of chemicals. He hadn't been feeling particularly creative since his stint in Arkham, but he was going to change that. He began to pull bottles off shelves, beakers, the Bunsen burner, his measuring utensils, and began to set up on the large table that rested in the corner of the room.

It always comes back to this doesn't it?

Jonathan knew that Scarecrow was only teasing, that his inner persona was just as glad to be back in the laboratory as he was. He knew that it would take him awhile to get his new formula ready, that he would have to find "guinea pigs" to test it on, but that was fine with him. Gotham was a mass of people, people that obviously didn't value their lives if they still lived here. Jonathan smiled as he worked.

. .. . .. . . ..

Bruce carried the snoring clown to his bed. He laid him on the comforters before making his way to the bathroom down the hall. He turned the shower on and for a few minutes and simply stared at the stream of water that rained into the large tub below. He stared transfixed, not really thinking, just being. He wasn't questioning his morals, wasn't thinking about Rachel, he wasn't Bruce, wasn't Batman, he just was. It was an old training method that Ra's-al-Ghul had taught him. With the older man dead he had practiced his relaxation techniques regularly. To be Batman there had to be balance, he knew this.

"Towels Master Wayne?"

"Alfred, I don't understand. What do I do next."

" 'onestly I'm not sure. This is one journey I 'ave not taken, but I'm sure you'll find out the answer."

"You have too much faith in me Alfred."

"Not really, just not enough doubt. Anyway, your towels. Should I prepare breakfast?"

"Yes, for one."

. .. . .. .

Jonathan smiled. It was rare when he could actually be happy with things, but today was proving to be better and better. He swirled his formula in its jar happily. The contents of the bottle would be enough for both Joker and Batman. He was excited.

Now, all he had to do was heal. He glanced at his bandaged arms, a little put out by the hindrance, but at the same time grateful.

This is gonna be fun.

"Yes, it's rare...having the opportunity to enjoy myself."

...... Two Months Later......

Bruce could see the woman slumped against the wall, she held an arm against the wall, and her other arm was clutched tightly to her chest. She was shaking against the brick, a loud cough escaped her lips. Bruce as Batman approached her, making his steps loud so she could hear him approach. She didn't turn to face him, but rather turned to face the wall, sobs now escaping.

"It's alright, you're safe," he said gruffly. He moved to her his gloved hands resting gently on her shoulder. She spun around quickly, her blue eyes catching his. A thick mist fell over him and he felt his stomach roll uneasily. The woman was no woman, the wig came away in his hand as he reached for Scarecrow.

"Bastard," he growled as he felt his strength ebb.

"Hmmm, always a sucker for a damsel in distress aren't we...Bruce."

Brown eyes widened in cold realization then just as quickly rolled back revealing pale whites.

Scarecrow smiled, Jonathan had left him free reign. He whistled. Two men emerged from the shadows of a nearby alley. They moved to the prone man, one was bold enough to try to take off Batman's mask.

"No! It's protected. Besides, I'll have more fun watching the Bat struggle, not the man."

The man nodded moving his hands away from the mask.

To himself Scarecrow muttered, "Now to catch a clown."

. .. . .. . ..

After taking the Batman back to base and stripping down the body armor Scarecrow and the two men strapped him to a gurney. It was reminiscent of the stretchers used to hold down patients during shock therapy, however, no electrocution would take place. Scarecrow's eyes roamed over the scarred and muscled flesh. He licked his lips beneath the burlap mask eying the trim waist , the way the Batman's boxer briefs clutched his powerful legs and his more than amply sized cock. He turned to the two men a ski mask in one hand.

"Now, we can't have you scarin' everyone while we get our job done. This is gonna be fun if played right, but remember this clown is slippery."

Scarecrow made sure the second man had his mask on then eyed the first man and smiled to himself when the man shuddered beneath his eyeless gaze.

"Don't be afraid of him, alright? Be afraid of me."

. .. . . .. .

Night time was a time of nefarious possibility in Gotham city. The night in Gotham city was proof of the chaos theory. Watching the city curl in on itself and sink lower into despair was something that moved even the Joker.

Scarecrow was counting on it.

He was in another disguise, his hair now long ragged and blond, a disfiguring scar raising his lip, one eye was white, a well placed contact, a white uniform clothed his lanky frame. He carted his henchman towards the familiar building, Arkham asylum. A part of him seethed in anger but another part was gleeful. He couldn't wait for everything to fall into place.

He approached the daunting gate and made his way to the guard near the entrance.

"Hey, Earl! How's it goin' man," Scarecrow asked jovially a New York accent falling heavily from his lips.

"Same old shit different day, know whadda mean," the man name Earl replied, he glanced over at the man in Scarecrow's arm.

"Hey, you got one back, good deal. How'dya manage that?" Earl stepped out of the booth and patted down the man in his arms.

"Batman laid into him and then let me take 'im back. Creepy guy, but damned if he don't know how to catch them bad guys."

"Damn right, well anyway get 'im inside he looks like he's gettin' antsy."

Scarecrow elbowed his henchman in the gut sharply. A puff of air escaped the man's lips and he lowered his head. He grinned at the guard.

"I sure as hell ain't no Batman, but I know how t' keep some bad guys down too."

. .. . .. . ..

"Wow, you found him Ray!"

"Yup, well can't take all the credit, Batman did mostuh the work."

"Scary guy, he should be in here too."

"Nope, I'd be too scared walkin' past his cell. Anyway, I'm gonna go ahead and put this guy in his cell."

"Sure thing."

Scarecrow breezed past the nurse easily and as he walked away he couldn't help but smile to himself. It had really been all too easy getting a job back at Arkham. Really, everyone had been eager to get him on board, between his attack from last time when the entire Narrows along with its less than sane inhabitants had run amok and having the Joker escape, people had quit left and right. They had all but thrown a uniform at him. For a little over a month he had been Ray Samuels, an ugly yet standup attendant in Arkham's halls. He cultivated his image perfectly, always on time, respectful to the higher-ups, kind to the hapless patients, mean to the out of hand ones. Yup, he had perfected Ray Samuels to do one job, but upon working there he learned one very important fact. This fact had altered his overall plan and made it all the sweeter. He threw his henchmen to the cell.

He smiled down at the easily frightened man.

"Now Tommy you know what to do."

Thomas Schiff nodded a quivering smile on his lips as he accepted the explosives from Scarecrow's hands.

"And what do you have to remember."

"Heh,uh, heh, n-n-ot to be af-f-fraid of him."

"That's right, good boy, now you get set up there and I'll come and get you when it's time to leave."