Who: Barbara Gordon & Scarecrow When: April 16, 2 a.m. Where: Arkham Asylum What: Finishing up the treatment. Rating: PG-13
The note had been short and to the point. It had also plagued him for most of the day.
They were leaving all of this up to him? How was he going to get her out of the Asylum? Where was he supposed to drop her? Did it matter? He was unsure what had caused the sudden change in plans, as he hadn't seen much on the news about the whole thing, but whatever it was seemed to be serious enough that they weren't going to be involved further.
Such a pain. And he doubted he'd be getting paid extra for the trouble.
By the time he was sure most of the staff had left for the night, it was late. He tugged his mask on as he rode the elevator down, then hurried down the hall to the storage room; he hoped she didn't prove to be too obnoxious.
Barbara was waiting, breath held, couched by the door. She waited for the scarecrow man, her hands clasped together, ready to be swung at a moment's notice straight for the man's head.
As he hurriedly unlocked the door, Crane started to regret leaving her untied. The whole thing would be so much more simple if she were still bound. Now he'd have to deal with fighting with her in the small room until he could truss her up again.
Irritating.
He pushed the door open slowly, in case she happened to be lurking near it.
She was lurking behind it, but that was besides the point. What happened when he finally got his head past the door was that Barbara brought her hands swinging down at it as hard as she could.
Well. That was...ineffective. The blow, if it could even be called that, stunned him only momentarily. When he recovered from the shock he flicked the light on with one hand, and grabbed one of Barbara's wrists with the other.
"No time for games tonight, Miss Gordon; we're on a tight schedule. Now behave yourself!"
Barbara despite feeling weakened from her ordeal struggled as much as she could, her feet straining for the door. She wasn't about to behave herself with freedom in sight.
Sigh. He kicked the door shut behind him and shoved her further into the room. "For someone who wants to get out of here, you certainly aren't making it easy...." Tsk.
Barbara fell backwards. Her vision was swimming. She hadn't eaten much at all in days. Same for water. And with all of this nightmarish Scarecrow stuff, sleep hadn't come easy when it came at all. "Let me go."
"I would love to, Miss Gordon, but you are making it very difficult for that to happen." He snatched some cord off a shelf in the corner and advanced towards her.
In theory it would be easier to tie her up before he dosed her, but he prepared himself for the other option as well.
Barbara glanced at the ropes, frightened out of her mind at what he was going to do next. Sure he was saying he wanted to let her go, but who knew what state he planned on letting her go in?
"The hard way it is, then." He could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't about to let him get close enough to restrain her
The rope switched hands so that he could spray her. Sigh.
Barbara coughed and sputtered, unable to even find the breath to scream with the Scarecrow in front of her like that. She started to cry, taking steps backwards until she was with her back against a corner of the room. She shrunk into a ball.
"That's much better." Sort of.
Crane followed her to the corner and went for her ankles first; considering her position, it would be easier to start there. It would also make for less of a chance at being kicked... Barbara did make an initial effort to kick, but this was lost in a wave of fear. She couldn't even look at him.
Good. He went for her wrists next, tying them tightly behind her back. It was unfortunate that, while tying her up made her easier to control, it also made it more difficult to get her out of the building.
Oh well. At least he didn't have to worry about what condition she was in when he ditched her. Aside from her being alive anyway.
"Stop...please stop..." She wheezed, tears rolling freely down her face. She didn't want him to kill her or violate her, but with his medication running through her veins, all manner of horrible thoughts like these were free flowing through her mind.
Where was the duct tape when you really needed it? Maybe he had some in his trunk; it had been awhile since he'd even bothered to open it.
Once he was satisfied that she was tied securely, he hauled her out of the corner and drug her towards the door. He had, briefly, entertained the idea of borrowing one of the asylum's wheelchairs for the whole ordeal, but abandoned it early on when he realized he had nowhere to put the damned thing once he'd gotten her outside. More trouble than it was worth.
Barbara was hyperventilating, tears streaming down her face. She could see the door, but who knew what was out there? He was going to kill her. She was going to die. "I don't want to die. I don't...stop!"
If there was one thing that the Doctor and the Scarecrow could both agree on, it was that they very much disliked not knowing how something was going to turn out. Another dose of toxin was definitely required before dumping her, but neither of them were sure just how it would affect her; it was unfortunate that they weren't going to be able to study her anymore.
She would either get louder, which would compound the already aggravating problem of getting her out to the parking lot, or she would go in the directly opposite direction to nearly comatose.
Well, as any good scientist would tell you, you'd never know until you tried. He reached down to grab her by the hair, holding her head up to ensure she took in the most of the new dose.
Barbara choked on the inhalant, her heart thudding even more heavily in her chest. Her breath came in wheezing rasps, and her heart felt like it was going to explode. Fear was overwhelming every one of her senses, and when it became to much, she passed out cold.
Finally. He kicked her once, for good measure, then pulled the door open. After lugging her out into the hall, he went back to flick off the light and lock the door.
The elevator wasn't too far, and he supposed that under the circumstances, it was probably best to go with smaller goals; elevator, back door, car...