The rain battered down on Bruce's batsuit.

He paid no attention to it. He had come to the Narrows in search of the drugs Cardin had told him about, and wasn't going to let a soaked cape get in the way of his mission.

He held a device that acted like a handheld periscope, and allowed him to look into rooms above without exposing himself to the people inside.

It took a lot of searching, since Cardin didn't give him exact coordinates as to the drugs' location. But he soon found an empty apartment, and, on the couch, the rabbits Torchwick had been shipping. Whether they actually held the drugs or were just a little kid's toys, he intended to find out.

He heard a door opening, and turned from his position, hanging from the wall, to see a young boy running out of his apartment, onto the balcony. Inside the building, Bruce could hear arguing.

He stared at the child. He reminded him of Weiss when he'd first met her. A lonely child, who had become closed off due to a difficult family.

The boy turned to look to his left, only to see Batman staring at him.

"It's you, isn't it?" he said. "Everybody's been talking about you."

He was oddly calm in the presence of the supposed monster that plagued Vale's criminals, but Bruce was fine with that. He wanted to scare his enemies, not a lonely child.

"Get in here!" a voice called from inside the house.

The boy looked to Batman. "The other kids won't believe me."

Batman turned his handheld periscope into its inactive mode, and tossed it to the child. He could always afford another one. The kid smiled at him, and headed back inside, leaving Batman to continue with his investigation.

Batman climbed into the apartment, leaving the doors to the balcony open, and approached the stuffed rabbits. He picked up one of them, and pulled its head off, finding the drugs hidden inside. He'd found the place.

The door to the apartment opened, and Batman placed the rabbit with the others, and ran into the shadows.

Doctor Jonathan Crane stepped into the apartment with two guards behind him, his scroll providing a flashlight. On the couch, he found the drugs he'd been waiting for. But he spotted something that worried him. The doors at the balcony were opened, allowing rain to pour in.

Someone was here.

"Get rid of all traces," he ordered the men.

"Better torch the whole place."

"Alright."

While Crane searched for the intruder, the other two pulled out tanks of gasoline, and started pouring it in the room.

After a few minutes, one of them headed for the restroom to relieve himself. He set down the tank, and looked into the mirror. His heart rate spiked as he saw Batman behind him in the reflection, but before he could do anything, a gloved down bashed his head into the mirror.

The crash of the attack didn't go unheard by the other two men in the building. While Crane stepped aside to prepare, the second guard pulled out his scroll, turning on the flashlight to look for an intruder.

Before he could know what hit him, Batman bashed a fist into his head, knocking him unconscious.

With the guards down, Batman spun around. Crane lunged at him, his scarecrow mask on, and sent out a burst of toxin from a device on his wrist. Before he realized what was happening, Bruce felt the burning sensation of the toxin being inhaled into his lungs.

In an instant, he felt terror begin to build from inside, and he couldn't control it anymore.

"Aw," the scarecrow staring at him teased, his voice demonic. "Having trouble?"

Bruce backed away, swinging his arms wildly as images of his past flashed before his eyes.

He could feel one last bat landing on his shoulder, razor sharp fangs sinking into his neck.

"Take a seat," the scarecrow said. "Have a drink."

Bruce collapsed into a seat, before falling to the ground, while the scarecrow started pouring gasoline over his head.

His father dropped to the ground, blood pouring from a bullet wound in his chest, and Bruce could only stare in horror.

"You look like a man who takes himself too seriously."

Bruce spun wildly in place by the balcony, as the fear continued to build. He stared up at the scarecrow, and it lifted a cigarette lighter, lighting it with a single flame.

"Do you want my opinion? You need to lighten up."

He tossed the lighter at Bruce, and he immediately ignited in flames.

Even with the fear clouding his judgement, Bruce was able to process what was happening. He was on fire, the only thing protecting him was his armor, and the building had been drenched in gasoline. If a single flame on his body touched the ground, the entire building would light on fire, putting innocent lives in danger, including the boy he'd met earlier.

Using all of his willpower to resist the fear, Bruce ran for the balcony, and leapt off. He descended to the ground below, and crashed against the roof of a car. The suit absorbed most of the impact, but there was still pain.

Bruce rolled off the car, and fell to the ground, swinging wildly to kill the flames, his only assistance was that of the pouring rain. A group of people watched from the distance in confusion.

Bruce picked himself up off the ground, and ran into an alleyway. He could barely stand, still terrified. What he was terrified of, he didn't know, but he was scared beyond his willpower. His legs gave in, and he tumbled to the ground.

He found the strength to move his arms, and he grabbed his grapnel gun. He looked to the rooftops, and he fired to a rooftop. He connected the grapnel wire to his belt, and let it carry him to the roof. When he reached the end of the line, he hoisted himself to the roof. Once he was there, he pulled a scroll from his belt, and put it to his ear.

"Alfred!" he cried out into the phone. "Help me!"

His arm lost the strength to hold the scroll at his ear, and he dropped it, crying out as the fear settled in.

The next thing he remembered was being in the backseat of Alfred's car, rambling to himself.

"Blood . . . Take . . . Take poison . . . Blood poison . . . Poisonous . . . Poisonous . . ."

He didn't remember anything after that. But he remembered one memory passing before his eyes.

Bruce's eyes opened, and his head slowly looked up to the light above him.

There was a shadow descending upon him. For a moment, he was just as afraid as he was mere moments ago.

Then, the shadow began to fade into something more visible. It wasn't one of those winged attackers. It was a human. But not just any human.

It took him a moment to process the human's face as that of his father.

"Bruce," he said, reaching a hand down to Bruce.

"Why do we fall . . . ?"