A ringing silence was all that was left in the wake of the Red Hood's retreat from Panessa Movie Studios. Little by little, the buzzing of the machines and lights around us came into focus, and the blood rushing through my ears died down. I sighed deeply; it seemed the inevitable outcome of our shaky truce with the Arkham Knight had come to pass.

"I'm sorry he didn't stay," I apologized to Nightwing as we stood quietly in the center of the circle of quarantine cells.

"No, Tim; I should be the one apologizing for all of this," sighed Dick in self-deprecation, looking down at the floor and stepping away from me. "I thought if I could reach out to Jason, all of this would be fixed. But you were right; he wasn't the Jason any of us knew anymore. Not after what he's been through."

"I know," I mumbled in reply. Dick had loved Jason like a brother, and finding him so broken and unrecognizable must've been killing him. I didn't dare imagine how devastating it would be for Bruce, if he ever learned the truth.

"But this isn't the time for moping," he declared, all Nightwing and business once more. "We have something more important to worry about right now."

"Right," I replied with a nod. It was time to save Bruce and Gordon, and take down Scarecrow once and for all. I turned on my comm and contacted Oracle; God knows how anxious she must've been after I rushed all the way to the studios by myself.

"Robin, Nightwing," she greeted solemnly, "I'm sorry things didn't work out between you and Red Hood."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Er...how much did you hear?" I asked somewhat guiltily. Had she been listening to our entire arguement?

"I heard enough. Now listen," she continued, not dwelling on Jason's sudden departure. "I found surveillance feed of an unmarked truck leaving the studios shortly before you arrived. If my suspicions are correct, that's what they used to take Batman to Scarecrow."

"Do you have any idea where that truck was going?" asked Nightwing urgently.

"I was able to narrow down its destination," replied Oracle grimly. "But you're not going to like it. I think they took him to Arkham Asylum."

I sucked in a breath, sure that the color was draining from my face. The abandoned asylum was heaven for someone who wanted to maim and torture in the worst way possible. Just what had Scarecrow planned for his hostages?

"We can't leave Bruce and Gordon in there any longer!" declared Nightwing. "Let's get going, Tim; we can clean this place up later."

"Pardon me, young masters," came Alfred's voice as the butler inserted himself into our call. "I apologize for the intrusion, but there appears to be some sort of broadcast hijacking television stations all over the country. It appears to be Crane's doing!"

"Oh my God, he's right!" Barbara exclaimed, "Scarecrow's broadcasting from Arkham Asylum!"

"What?!" I cried, sprinting and skidding to a stop in front of the great computer on the far side of the chamber. Dick soon joined me, resting a tense hand on my shoulder as I got to work tapping into the signal. I opened up a video player on the large screen, displaying a portal into the dark, dilapidated asylum that was the Scarecrow's playground.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," the villain drawled as he stepped into view, syringed fingers clasped in front of him. "While many of you have hidden behind your costumes and disguises this Halloween, Gotham's Dark Knight will lose his cowl before the night is out. Now it is time for the world to see that even he is powerless in the face of his darkest fears. Gotham will fall with its hero, and the rest of your pitiful communities soon after."

I sucked in an angry breath. With a quick keystroke, news and social media feeds popped up on the edges of the screen. Journalists and users alike flooded the web with excitement, sympathy, and unease about Gotham City's situation. Unfortunately, hashtags would do little to help Bruce now.

"If he unmasks Batman, we're finished!" exclaimed Nightwing.

"I couldn't agree more," I replied gruffly as I quickly shut down the computer. I took Dick's arm, pulling him along as I ran for the elevator. "Oracle, we'll get there as fast as we can."

"OK. Scarecrow hasn't been there for long, so he probably didn't have time to set up a good defense," said Barbara quickly, her voice betraying her relief and anticipation. "Good luck, guys."

By then, Nightwing and I were in the middle of our elevator ride up to the roof. The air in the small carriage was electrified by our newfound determination. We reached the top in no time, and the two of us dashed out, back into the stormy night. Nothing in the world could stop us from rescuing our dear mentor now.