Epilogue:
Wild Animals Backed into Corners
"What an ironic waste to be denied a death at the hands of my enemy," Joker continued. He stood perched on a small bucket in the middle of an empty warehouse with the noose tight around his neck.
"My sickness spreads unregulated now. Unchecked it could transform the world into a planet of jokers. Perhaps if he was still around I'd like him to see it but without him everything seems pointless. If only I could kill him myself or him me." Joker lamented.
"Will his son do?" the voice rang out and echoed back. Whistling nearly howling the Batarang flew from above clipping the bucket and sending Joker swinging. Immediately his hands went to his throat as Damien dropped from the rafters.
"I know you weren't going to kill yourself or you'd have done it five minutes ago. Monologuing by yourself? I mean you've really hit rock bottom," Damien began.
"Let's look past that and towards your last few seconds of consciousness. I'm a Robin, and I know what you do to them. So the deal is I cut you down, you listen to what I have to say, and then you can kill me." Damien paced back and forth as the Joker twisted feet twitching. With his last reserves Joker stuck out a thumbs-up. The Batarang flew again cutting his rope, and he collapsed to the ground.
"Ok down to business then," Damien crouched in front of him, "First we establish a few facts. Number one, my father is not dead. I can guarantee you that."
"How?" Joker sputtered.
"The only way he could go down is at the hands of an enemy. It's happened before mostly likely by the same troops that attacked you and every other hood in Gotham. They've taken about half the city so far and are trying to squelch the troublemakers. The JLA is away on some interstellar love fest, and Batman was the only main member left to handle Earth. They leave the entire planet in his hands," Damien scoffed.
"How-" Joker repeated.
"Do I know he's not dead? It'd be obvious if you were an enemy who used logic and inference instead of a rabid, unthinking dog. If you had killed Batman and were trying to take over the entire city, what's the first thing you'd do to make the freaks behave?" Damien posed the question.
"I-I'm not sure," Joker made his way up to a sitting position now. He was thoroughly intrigued by this boy, certainly more than any other Robin before him.
"You'd drag his body down every street so they could see him dead. So they knew you were the one that defeated their nightmare, and that would buy you the respect of the entire city."
"But they haven't. There hasn't been a single word about him which means-"
"They have him alive either torturing or brainwashing him, something like that. Unless it's something else," Damien's eyes narrowed.
"Like what?"
"I'm still not sure, but I get the feeling there's something I'm missing. Anyway, the second fact we need to establish is that we want the same thing: my father back. You do want him back, so you can kill him right?"
"Oh yes." Joker hissed, "That's all I want."
"Easy enough," Damien acquiesced, "That leads us to number three; we need each other. I've spent a month fighting monsters like you all over the city, and I'm tired. It can't keep going this way, and judging by the sickness you keep mentioning, you know it too. I think your problem now is motivation. With my father gone, whatever it is inside of you is self-destructing, but I can give you purpose back. I think that alone will stop you from falling apart at least until we get my father back."
"Why?" Joker seemed to be having trouble following this teenager's lightening paced logic.
"Because I have too much on my plate that's why. How am I supposed to fight these outsiders when I have to put down every two bit asshole in Gotham?" Damien responded but there was something else Joker sensed.
"No. Why?" he repeated.
"When I first met the Flash we spoke about his enemies. I guess I was so immersed with my father's foes it was refreshing to hear about other villains. Your name came up, and I asked him what he thought of you. Flash is not a serious guy like my father, but his brow furrowed when he heard your name. He said you were nothing but a ricocheting bullet. I asked how he could think so little of you, but he stopped me. 'Damien you don't understand,' he said, 'there's nothing more dangerous than a ricocheting bullet. It has no mind of its own. It can hit anything and anyone without a single feeling.' So instead of leaving it alone like I probably should have I did something smarter. I went to the tapes and archives to see how Flash dealt with rogue bullets. I slowed them down and down and down until finally I could see him moving through a flurry of lead, and do you know what he did with them?"
"No, what?" Joker stated puzzled.
"He put things in front of them, a henchman's hand, a hostage's chains, or anything he could find. He used them."
"I don't understand," Joker struggled.
"I know," Damien sighed and dropped his bag in front of the clown, "but you're about to. I'm going to take that bullet and equip it with buzzing sawblades and a nuclear warhead. And I'm going to point it straight down my enemy's throat." Joker undid the bag and felt something strange emanating from it. He recoiled when he recognized it and dropped the bag in front of him shielding his face.
"You dare? In all my years I've never been so insulted. To think I'd ever stoop so low." Joker spat.
"If there's one thing I know about you, one thing you can't resist, it's a spectacular show. Can you imagine anything funnier, anything more twisted than this? Saved by his greatest enemy side by side with his son, he'll disown me but at least he'll be alive and safe. No one has seen him in action more than you. It's the part you've been waiting to play forever, and you never knew it." Damien pressed.
"I'm not sure you know what a dangerous game you're playing," Joker began.
"Maybe not I'm just a kid after all, but I know it's the only game you like to play. I'm sure my father would rather rot in whatever prison he calls home before he'd let me do this, and that's all the more reason for you to say yes."
"What will they say?" Joker asked concernedly.
"They'll think it's the greatest joke you've ever played," Damien smiled, "and they'll be right." Joker picked up the bag again reaching inside.
"It's an old one, but it should suit our purposes. Now let's see that smile," Damien stated as Joker unfolded his greatest enemy's costume. It was a classic Batsuit grey and black, one of his personal favorites.
"The world isn't ready for this, kid," Joker warned.
"Fuck 'em."
"How could I have not seen it before?" his breathing became ragged and his eyes burned in crackling green ferocity. The smile spread on forever until it hurt his face.
"It's perfect." Joker whispered.