"M-Mr. Batman? Sir? There's an injured man on the top floor, but the woman with him won't give him up. She said she'll talk to you, but that's it."

Who was this? He hadn't met this guard before. All the same, he believed him. He had to go up there, in case it was really serious.

He could hear sobbing as he went up. So the guard had been telling the truth. What was going on? And where was everyone else?

The sober turned out to be Kitty Richardson. She was cradling Jonathan Crane in her lap. His mask and glasses were lying on the ground beside them. Jesus.

"Batman." Her voice was choked. "Help him. Please. Take him to a hospital or something, please!" She adjusted her fingers on the bloody scarf she was pressing against his side. "Help him!"

She may have been insane, but Batman pitied her. She was scared and desperate.

"Goddammit, do something!"

He knelt beside them, wondering how best to handle this. There had to be a way to pick the man up without making it worse.

Jonathan mumbled something, his voice muffled by the scarf around his throat and mouth.

"Crane?"

"Checkmate."

Ssssprayyy!

Fuck.

There was just no other word for the situation.

Even as the walls melted, he could see them getting up and straightening themselves out.

"Good night, Bats. Always a pleasure."

"My tailbone hurts."

"My shirt is ruined. Did you have to use so much soy sauce?"

"The ketchup was too orange without it."

Mother's screams drowned out anything else.

AN: What? I had to let them win at least ONCE. I feel guilty on Scarecrow boss battles, for crying out loud!