PART 1
Gotham, 2 years ago.
Batman stood on the brink of howling darkness, the thick folds of his cape flapping in the shivering winds blowing in from the east. Storm clouds, stained red with light bleeding out from the city below, laid a thick, roiling blanket over Gotham. The rain didn't fall, but you could feel its weight in the air, pressing down as if it could crush the thieves and murders who ran rife beneath it, flood the streets and wash them clean of the filth and corruption.
Thunder clattered across the sky, chasing a thin tongue of flickering lightning. Batman didn't spare them a second glance. All his attention was focused on the opposite rooftop, on the boy and the man who stood on the edge, mirroring him. Man? Batman questioned the use of the word, wondered whether the word could truly be applied to the creature facing him. More lightning shuddered through the clouds above, illuminating his face in staccato flashes; the chalk white skin, the bulging red eyes set into sunken sockets – they told another story. He looked inhuman. Monstrous.
And always, always there the psychotic smile. It was the smile of someone who had lost every scrap, every shred of his sanity, and who knew it, and who enjoyed it.
The Joker giggled to himself when he saw Batman watching him, laughing as though he knew exactly what was passing through his mind. It was possible, in a sick way – the two of them had been through this routine for what seemed like eternity, trapped in twisted cycle of pain and fear and revenge.
But this time was different. Joker clutched the boy to him in an iron grip, and at first glance it might even have seemed like a freak act of tenderness. But then one would have seen the maniacal grin, the shining razor pressed against the boy's throat, and the kidnapping would have revealed itself for everything that it was.
Batman, being Batman, saw everything, and not for the first time felt a sick twist of fear. Not for himself, of course, but for the boy.
"Oh dear." Called the Joker in his high, sing-song voice. "It seems we have a pest control problem."
"Give it up, Joker." Growled Batman, raising his voice to be heard over the rising winds. "There's nowhere to go."
"Why don't you come over here and see for yourself?"
"Don't, Batman." Shouted the boy, ignoring the blade that pressed into his neck.
"I told you to SHUT UP!" Snapped the Joker, suddenly letting go and giving the boy a vicious back-hander across the face. The black-haired teenager fell, his lip bleeding from the force of the blow, his black eye mask slipping slightly. He caught himself before he tumbled into the void between the two buildings, his torn, yellow-lined cape dragging him down. Batman started forwards instinctively, but the boy looked up and caught his eye, sending him a wordless warning. His square, fourteen-year-old face was bruised and bleeding, but he flashed Batman that reckless, cocksure grin as if to say, I'm not scared, not of him, not of anything. But Batman could see the truth, even at a distance; his bare arms were trembling, the elbow length black gloves and short green sleeves failing to hide his shaking.
Joker glanced from Robin to Batman, and the grin that had momentarily slipped from his ruin of a face slid slowly back on, growing like a cancer cell.
"Alright, Bat-brain." He sighed, uncharacteristically calm. "You win. The Boy Wonder can toddle on back to daddy." He gestured, indicating the wall that joined the two buildings, that in fact joined all the buildings on this street. Crammed up as they were against the shoreline of the Gotham river, their owners had demanded some sort of protection from the frequent floods, and so a thin stone wall had been constructed, about 10cm thick but several metres tall. Robin eyed the wall warily; there was a distance of about 10 metres between the buildings – it would be possible to walk across, but the question remained: did he dare?
He glanced back at the psychopath behind him, who dropped the smile slightly and raised the razor blade about as much, rolling its handle between his fingers.
"Go on." He growled, keeping the grin fixed to his face, the skin of his cheeks stretched taut. Robin went through the choices in his head, and quickly decided to take a chance with the bridge.
Batman watched, his hands clenched into black fists. All this time he hadn't acted for fear that Joker would simply kill the boy, but now the end seemed near and the gnawing fear wouldn't go away. He saw Robin push himself shakily to his feet and take the first step onto the wall, and all the while his thoughts were racing.
It's not this easy. It's never this easy.
Still Robin walked on, one step at a time, swaying unsteadily with each gust of wind. Gradually, he made inched closer…he was quarter of the way there…halfway…
And that was when Batman saw it. It was perfectly camouflaged, hidden in the shadow of the building. He would never have noticed it but for a single flash of brilliant white electricity arcing overhead, so bright that it seemed to throw everything into negative. And just for a split-second, the pressure-sensitive explosive latched to the side of the wall like a squat metal spider was in full view.
It was less than an inch from where Robin was standing.
Time stood still.
Batman moved, lunging forwards, and Robin froze, locking his gaze. His mouth opened, maybe to cry for help, maybe to call out a warning. But his words were whisked away by the monumental explosion that engulfed the bridge. The force knocked Batman off his feet, slamming him into the wall behind him.
"ROBIN!" He yelled. But it was too late; the boy was gone, along with most of the wall. His ears were ringing from the blast, but he could still hear one sound, overriding everything else. The Joker was whooping, yelling, screaming with laughter, his whole body contorting with the hellish strength of it. Batman struggled to his feet, and the Joker turned and fled, his insanity echoing out behind him. Without stopping to think, Batman surged after him, fury coursing through him like fire. As he moved, he glimpsed two more spiders to his left and right, but he ignored them. They didn't matter now. He leapt the broken wall and crossed the roof in seconds, dropping to the street as twin explosions split the night behind him.
Revelling in the panic and confusion, chuckling incessantly to himself, the Joker made good his getaway. Or so he believed, until he turned down an alley and walked straight into Batman's chest. The force of it bowled him over, and he crashed to the pavement, looking up at Batman, whose face was set in an expression of utter fury.
"Oh, sorry, didn't see you there." Giggled Joker. Wordlessly, Batman grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him into the wall so that all the breath rushed out of him in a whurrff.
"OK, OK." Joker gasped, trying to ease Batman's hand off his windpipe. "I give up already. Slap on the bat-cuffs and haul me off to jail." Batman suddenly let go, letting Joker slump to the floor, retching and wheezing. Swiftly, the clown dove into his pocket to draw a flick-knife, but Batman's foot came down on his wrist. Joker could swear he could feel his bones breaking.
"Not this time." Murmured the Dark Knight. As his shadow loomed over him, the Joker started to giggle.
"You know Bats, that look is almost scary. You almost look like you could –" His sentence stopped abruptly as Batman's darkness closed around him.
They found the Joker about an hour later, tied up in the doorway of a burning building and beaten to within an inch of his life.
"Jeeeez." Whistled Detective Bullock as they carted the comatose clown away. "It looks like the Bats has really flipped it!"
Commissioner Gordon said nothing, but looked out past the flames of the eastern streets to the black murky waters of the river, feeling a great weight and sadness settle on him for his friend.
Batman broke the surface, coughing and retching. With the last of his strength, he hauled himself to the shore, where he fell upon the banks, gasping for air. For the best part of an hour he'd dived into the frigid, inky waters, searching for anything, anything that could give him a shred of hope. But there was nothing. The river, swelled by the rain that was now rushing down as if the sky itself was falling, had swallowed him whole, taken what was left of his body and dragged it into the depths. Batman sat up, and watched the reflected flames flicker on the water, casting a burning sheen across the oily surface. He felt hollow, as if his very soul had been ripped out and flung away. It was nothing to do with the burns from the fire or the pollution of the river. It was the cold and simple knowledge that, despite everything, despite all his training and everything he'd worked for, Robin had needed him and he had failed.
Failed to save him.
Failed to find him.
Failed. Failed. Failed.
He closed his eyes, and let the anger grip him as fiercely as it had done that night in the alleyway when his parents had been killed in front of him. He'd been helpless to save them and he was helpless to save Robin now.
What was he going to tell Alfred?
A wave of sadness washed over him, and he watched the river rush away. He was gone. And this time, he wasn't coming back. Batman hung his head, and stared at the single scrap of red material that was all that was left of his friend.
"Jason…"
