boxofmisfits | Progeny of Fear

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Progeny of Fear

Call it a stroke of luck that Jonathan Crane happened to be at the circus when the Flying Graysons met their tragic end, leaving their only child with nowhere to go. No extended family, and it looked like the boy was off to a foster home. Then Dr. Crane had volunteered to take him in. He was a well-paid psychologist, and could easily afford to take care of young Dick. So, that had been that.

Truth was, Crane had a bit of an ulterior motive. Seeing the boy with no family, Crane had sensed an opportunity. Perhaps it was time to take on a protege. Someone to train in the ways of causing fear and possibly even carry out his work in the future.

The next year was spent gaining the boy's trust, making sure he was comfortable, but not going so far as to spoil the child. Dr. Crane would not tolerate spoiled brats. It was only when Dick finally called him "dad" that Crane had taken him into the basement and showed him his real work.

From then on, Crane had started to teach Dick all there was to know about fear, and what he could do to help his adopted parent. He'd tried to steer the boy into science, but Dick preferred more active extracurricular activities. So, Crane had paid to have his son learn martial arts, and encouraged his gymnastics. It might actually help if he had someone more combat-oriented helping him, after all.

In the end, it paid off. Whenever Crane went out as Scarecrow, his son went with him.

Dick was grown now, and struck out on his own as Nightwing, a dark terror of the night, though the two still popped into each others lives to help the other out.

Scarecrow lay in a crumpled pile on the factory floor, looking up at the dark vigilante who had once again foiled his plans. Most of his henchmen were knocked out or restrained, so it looked like his plot to drug cosmetics with fear toxin was foiled. Before he could be taken, a goon that got lost in the fray jumped out and tried to defend his boss. This gave Scarecrow time to get to his feet and make an attempt for the emergency exit.

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"You always say the nicest things, dad," Dick commented dryly, but there was a glitter of mischief in his eyes. He knew it actually was a compliment, but he'd always had a more playful edge to combat his father's seriousness, and he liked to take advantage of that whenever he could.

"It has," he agreed, more seriously "I'd love to work with you again, what do you need me to do?" some time together would be nice, and being around his father's genius would probably help spark a few more ideas of his own.

"Excellent," Crane smiled at his son, before propping one of his legs, namely the one with the brace, up on the coffee table. Thankfully the table was free of clutter, so there was nothing to kick aside.

"What I would like from you is help getting a reluctant partner on our side." Scarecrow pulled a tablet out of the pocket of his jacket and brought up a picture of a middle aged man. "This man is Gotham's number one supplier of cosmetics and other such products. We're going to persuade him to add a little extra ingredient to some of his items."

Dick sat up a little, leaning forward to get a better look at the picture his father brought up on the screen, studying the man carefully to commit his face to memory.

"Any items in particular?" he asked, a grin already spreading across his face at the plan. It was perfect, almost impossible to trace if they played their cards right, people of Gotham in their thousands used multiple products every single day, it would take them a while to find the source of whatever effect his father was planning, long enough for it to spread considerably.

"I'm thinking slip it into eyeliner, lipstick, body spray," Crane listed some other products he wanted tainted. "Individually, they might cause some minor effects. But when used together, well, the results will be spectacular to witness."

An entire city, brought it its knees by means they weren't aware of, and only realizing what's going on after it's too late. Scarecrow wondered if they would be able to hear the screams from Bludhaven.

"Perfect," Dick grinned delightedly, a slight chuckle escaping his lips at the very thought of it. To an ordinary person, it probably sounded slightly crazed, but in reality it didn't even begin to touch upon the malevolent delight he was capable of when he truly got started.

"They'll have no hope of stopping it, it will take them months to track down all the affected items..."

Scarecrow grinned with pride at Nightwing's enthusiasm over this plan. "That's my boy," He replied. Just like his old man, living to cause terror and bring all of Gotham City to its knees.

That was when Scarecrow's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten all night. Standing up, the soreness having passed, Crane made his way to the small kitchen. "Does a grown man like yourself still enjoy pizza rolls?"

Dick's expression turned to one of disappointment, shaking his head as he twisted round to watch Crane head into the kitchen, but there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"Dad," he said seriously, as if his father had made a grave error "what kind of a question is that? Everybody enjoys pizza rolls." he could only keep the serious expression up for a few more seconds before the grin spread across his face again.

"Hey that's not a bad idea, maybe I should poison some pizza ro-" he stopped, dismissing the idea "No. Some things are just too evil, even for me, the pizza rolls don't deserve it."

"Some lines even you won't cross, hm?" Crane snarked, putting the snack in the microwave to cook. When they were finished, he dumped the food on a plate and brought it back out to the living room, setting it on the coffee table, along with a six-pack of cola from the fridge.

Scarecrow removed his mask and set it aside, before taking one of the pizza rolls and popping it into his mouth. He turned on the television, which was already reporting on Scarecrow's antics tonight. Security footage from the factory came up on screen.

"A strong moral code is very important," Dick replied with a mock-pious expression "Stealing pizza rolls for oneself is perfectly acceptable, destroying the sanctity of the pizza roll with poison are the actions of a monster." of course, almost everything they did were the actions of monsters, but he'd long ago accepted that was what they were. Sometimes you needed to be, to make a difference in the world, sometimes you did fight fire with fire.

He grabbed a pizza roll and one of the cokes and settled back in his chair, grinning at the news.

"Would you look at what somebody did to that poor factory.."

"Such a tragedy what happened," Scarecrow quipped, sipping on his soda in between bites of pizza roll.

The footage of the Scarecrow came up then, followed by him getting tossed around by the do-gooder who had dared to intervene. A few flashes of Nightwing were then seen. "My, my, what a strapping young man come to help the Scarecrow there."

"Wow," Dick agreed, unable to keep the grin from his face "He certainly looks like a formidable opponent, I bet he's striking even more fear into their hearts with his very presence. He's good looking too." it was easier to focus on laughing about praising himself than on the footage of the men attacking Scarecrow, even though he knew he'd already dealt with them it still angered him to see the video. He contemplated tracking down each and every man who'd been present and extracting his vengeance personally.

"I can only imagine what terror such a duo is going to bring upon Gotham City," Crane chuckled before biting into another pizza roll and washing it down with the soft drink. The report went to the person covering the story, telling all viewers to keep an eye out for the criminals and contact the police with any information.

The news switched to some story about Wayne Enterprise's latest venture, something about giving funding to turn Arkham Asylum into a more functional mental hospital. Crane still had the newspaper clipping from when Dick had broken him out of there for the first time.

"Do you have a place to stay, by the way?"

"Oh yes, I'm sure it will be a reign of terror unlike any Gotham has ever seen." It was a claim plenty of villains had made before, Dick was well aware of that, but he also knew how good he and his father were at what they did, even more so when they were working together. Gotham would fall to them, he knew it.

"At the moment? I was just going to crash here if that's okay? I had to leave my last apartment in a hurry."

"Of course. You're always welcome at my hideouts," Crane replied. "There's a spare bedroom across from mine." It wasn't the most comfortable, but it was better than making his son sleep on the couch.

"Once Gotham is our's, we won't have to hide anymore. We'll be the ones people hide from." Of course, the only reason they had to run and hide a lot was because they broke the law, but why argue specifics?

"Thanks dad," he couldn't help but grin. He knew it could be dangerous, the two of them staying together for too long, it made it harder for one of them to come to the other's aid if anything went wrong, but sometimes it was nice just to spend some quality time around his father.

"Yea," he agreed, determined "One day we'll be living it up and anyone who came to chase us will be sorry they ever thought they could stop us."

Oh what Dick's life would have been had Crane not adopted him. Perhaps passed around from foster home to foster home until he aged out. Even if Crane had known nothing of children at the time, he was a patient man and what was raising a child compared to what he did at night?

"No police or vigilantes will get in our way." Crane gathered up the empty soda cans and plates to bring them back to the kitchen, setting the plates by the sink and the cans in the recycling.

"Maybe we'll live in Wayne Manor," he grinned, imagining having a big fancy mansion instead of a series of dingy safehouses "or the white house." imagine if they spread their influence over the entire country? How wonderful that would be...

"Hm, seeing that vapid playboy scream in terror would be quite satisfying," Crane mused. Rich billionaire like that was probably afraid of something cliche like spiders or his stocks tanking, but it would still be a joy to watch. Living that kind of life with his son, while they ruled Gotham with fear was the dream right there.

"Turn whatever excessively large rooms we want into a gym for you and a lab for me, and we'd be all set."

"I bet it would be so easy, too," Dick snickered "He'd probably fall to pieces if he had to put on his own shoes, I bet he's got a valet for that." he added, amusing himself with the mental image. Still, however simple it would be, being able to play with the untouchable Bruce Wayne like that, being able to rule over Gotham and do what they wanted, it was a satisfying thought.

"A gym in the house? That would be pretty amazing."

"His butler probably dresses him too," Crane quipped in a deadpan tone. He only showed this side of himself, the side more prone to light humor, in his son's presence. Normally Crane had a rather dark sense of humor, the few times he did say something humorous.

"As well as a large library. We might have to auction off most of his things to make room, of course." The Penguin might buy half the inventory alone, if he and Dick ever went through with it. That man did like his fancy junk.

"Auction off or just fling out into the street," Dick smirked "Just imagine all of Bruce Wayne's precious expensive suits being worn by homeless drug addicts, kids painting graffiti on his fancy portraits, dogs chewing on his designer shoes..." the thought of such luxury being ruined so carelessly would probably horrify most rich people, and that was the exact reason Dick found the idea so delightful.

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Progeny of Fear

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Sorry forever as usual

Np <3

apologising 5ever. One day I will get my act back together

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as usual apologies forever