D A M I A N
Damian should have been more aware of the amount of time that had passed. The sun had been starting to go down, which was never a good thing in Gotham. He should have known. Now, because of his stupidity, both Titus and Dupain-Cheng were missing.
Damian did not hesitate; he grabbed his bag with great efficiency. People were screaming now and were running amok, sending people into a frenzy. Damian managed to find the bathrooms and was able to change.
His first thoughts were of Dupain-Cheng and Titus. They had no doubt inhaled some of the gas, which made them potentially a danger to themselves. He needed to find them both quickly. Before that, though, he needed to notify someone in the Batcave of what was going on. He had some of the antidote, but if Scarecrow had made a new strain of it, its benefits could be neutralized.
"Scarecrow has made an appearance in the park," he listed the addressed into his comm. "Is anyone there?"
"Yes, I'm here," Agent A responded without hesitation, "There are a few other outbreaks of attacks in the city; Red Robin is handling the situation."
"Be wary of the gas," he continued; Damian pulled his gas mask over his head, his eyes searching for signs of Titus or Dupain-Cheng. "Something is off about these new strains, it's causing more erratic responses."
"Strains?" Damian muttered into his comm, "how many have been released."
"Two confirmed, a third is possible," Agent A answered, a beep coming from his side.
"Red Hood might come over for assistance," Agent A told him with a sigh, "though I cannot pick him up on any surveillance cameras."
"I can handle the situation alone," Damian hissed back, his patience wearing as he continued to fruitlessly search through the thick smog-like gas.
Agent A paused before replying with a much sharper tone, "I recommend awaiting Red Hood's presence, he could provide helpful aid when rescuing Titus and Miss Dupain-Cheng."
"Do you see Red Hood in any cameras?" Damian gritted out from between his clenched teeth.
He moved, tearing through the park with a swift speed that only a determined person could maintain. He incapacitated a few of Scarecrow's goons along the way, careful to stay away from the gas, despite his safety precautions.
"Yes," a sigh of relief passed from Agent A's side, "ETA five minutes."
Finally Damian found signs of Titus, a large, recognizable bark tore through the air, followed by a deep, unfriendly growl. It was without a doubt Titus.
Damian slinked closer, his anger intensity if as she struggled to make out clear figures through the distracting swirls of gas. He could see many signs of disarray in the area. Benches were toppled over and people were screaming with great fear-inducing conviction. A light pole had fallen and toppled over to the ground. It was there that his eyes caught on Titus.
"I found them," he whispered, his eyes sharp and attentive.
Agent A responded, "Wait."
Titus was a very happy dog normally, despite how often Damian came into the manor with a less than pleased attitude. He even did extremely well with visitors. Titus; however, was not an asinine dog. He knew when someone was an enemy, and the people in front of him were currently.
Behind Titus was a smaller more petite figure, who had to be Dupain-Cheng, as he was very close to her. Many goons were around them, blocking any exits they had. Damian tensed, he was about to leap in when the appearance of a more detestable person stopped him. It was Scarwcrow himself, with a unsuitable smirk smashed over his—in Damian's opinion—crooked face.
"You, little girl," Scarecrow tutted, his smirk fading into a much more suitable frown, "have been very hard to find."
Dupain-Cheng's eyes glimmered with recognition; she knew who he was. Her body was rigid as she slowly smiled with as much artificial sweetness he had ever seen. "How rude of me."
"I cannot wait, Agent A," he said, clenching his hands into fists, "Scarecrow has made an appearance. Dupain-Cheng and Titus are in more danger with me waiting for back-up than me jumping in right now."
"Understood," dissatisfaction colores his voice, but his voice was firm and neutral.
Before any assistance could be given, Dupain-Cheng dropped into a crouch and wrapped her hands around the base of the light pole, and heaved it across the pavement, swinging it like a golfer would a golf club. It knocked down all of goons and Scarecrow himself. More gas dispersed around them, but Titus and Dupain-Cheng were already running. Damian was running, trying his best to make sure the ones who were indisposed temporarily did not make things more difficult by pulling out a gun.
Many of the goons rode back up after only a few seconds of recovery, pulling a a few others to their feet as well. Grimacing, Damian rushed one, annoyed with yet another human being.
A few right hooks, a mini wrestle match for a gun, and an attempt to take off his gas mask later, and he was in front of Scarecrow himself. Just as he approached his bruised opponent, Red Hood plopped down from the sky and nodded over to Damian.
"I'll handle him."
Red Hood had nothing that gave away his facial expression, but Damian was perfectly aware of the fury in his voice. Besides, Damian was much to distracted by the possibility of his dog being wounded to want to handle dealing with the lunatic.
He set off in the direction Dupain-Cheng had headed in with Titus on her tail. During the time it took for him to find signs of her and Titus's footprints, he pondered on the trick she had pulled to get away.
Dupain-Cheng had no history of fighting that they knew of, exempting all personal experiences. The last time they had searched her name into the Batcomputer, something odd had happened, limiting them in certain areas. She was not only capable of roof-jumping, which was a curricular that only a few in Gotham attempted, and was a fast, intellectual thinker, as proved by her quick getaway from Scarecrow. If he could only connect the three things to find out what it meant, than he would be getting somewhere. Yet, as he listed them off, he realized that nothing else could be done for the moment. He needed to dig deeper and find facts to base theories on.
Another new fact was something that came perhaps unintentionally, by none other than Scarecrow himself, was that she was specifically being targeted by him. Damian was surprised by this, as he had never seen Dupain-Cheng outside of school. He would not have even been able to spot her in Gotham—it was too unlikely.
Finally, Damian spotted Dupain-Cheng, who was curled around Titus, her body trembling uncontrollably. Damian made his way over carefully, trying to ignore how much happier Titus seemed at his arrival.
Titus did not seem worried at all about Damain's odd choice of clothing, instead he seemed elated by his presence. He swiveled away from Dupain-Cheng and came over to him, barking once.
Damian patted him lightly on the head, easing his excitement. He did not want Dupain-Cheng picking up on Titus's odd behavior. He took in her behavior and tried to assess the damage.
"How much of his gas did you breathe in?" He questioned as calmly as he could manage, his eyes on her hands which were shaking at a faster rate than the rest of her body.
"Quite a bit," she replied in a slow, uncontrolled sort of way. "Do you have any suggestions on how to calm down?"
"Just remember where you are, we do not know much about this strain," he concurred, his voice stern as he tensed suddenly.
He turned just in time to block a blow from the man behind him, twisting the man's arm and incapacitating him in one swift, smooth maneuver. With the man down, Damian looked over to see Dupain-Cheng be engulfed in gas, one of Scarecrow's dummies holding her down. Before Damian could interject, she had twisted out of his grip and was standing above him.
Her eyes were completely clouded over, and Damian knew she was no doubt experiencing a hallucination. Instead of her getting more aggressive like he anticipated, she crumpled to the ground and started to sob. She looked completely defeated by whatever she was seeing, broken even.
It bothered Damian. He felt useless, which was not a feeling he liked. He brought Titus over to Dupain-Cheng, hoping that maybe he would help her.
"Du—," he paused, correcting himself, "You are okay, what you are experiencing is merely a trick. You are physically well."
She did not listen, instead she started to cup her hands around something that was not there. She started to mutter a name under her breath, her mumbling barely coherent.
Damian looked away. The moment not only felt extremely private, but he also felt guilty. If he had been faster, she would not have to be dealing with the side effects of the gas—at least, she would not be dealing with a full shot of it to the face like she was now.
"Do we have any of the antidote ready?" He questioned, touching his comm unconsciously.
She seemed to be done crying over whoever she had seen. Now she was blabbering and mumbling out, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so—so s-sorry."
She was sobbing uncontrollably. Damian watched as she struggled to breathe evenly. He helplessly watched as she slowly smoothed out her breath on her own, her eyes looking dead as she started to curl in on herself.
"Yes, Red Hood brought some with him, he stopped by before coming over to you," Agent A reported back, his voice neutral as he explained what he knew.
"Can you tell him his presence is needed? I have a girl who needs the antidote," he pressed this to Agent A. He needed to help Dupain-Cheng.
"Red Hood does not have his comm on, unfortunately. It seems you will have to go to him," He explained pleasantly.
Damian scowled in annoyance. It would be less hindering for his brother to cooperate for once. He bitterly huffed before turning to Titus.
"Watch her," he told him sternly, though not in an angry tone, before stalking away towards his insolent brother.
He thought back to the bright, smiling girl he had seen before, his thoughts turning bitter as he thought of how she was now. It was possible she hid behind her kindness. If that was true, then Damian was wrong about her.
Maybe the fact that she still could smile was what made her strong. Damian had never had such continuous optimism, though now that he thought of it, he envied that. If he was able to smile as much as she did, then he would fit in a whole lot better.
He pushed the thought away, focusing on his task. The revelation stuck in his mind, even long after he arrived back to give her the antidote.