Batman: Illusions (R)
Chapter One
"Oh come on Batman, give it a rest."
Bruce glared at the hideous clown, clutching his stomach with mind numbing pain. Joker had gotten a lucky shot in, reducing Batman to the status of just a mere man.
Red caked his hand, dripping slowly down his suit and making small noises as it hit the concrete floor. He felt extremely dizzy, the loss of blood effecting his balance and vision, but he couldn't give up.
Robin struggled vainly, the Joker's pasty hand pulling his small arm cruelly behind his back. Squeezing his wrist, Joker grinned down at him, the cold steel of his pistol ramming harder against his temple.
"Ah Ah Ah."
Tim ceased his attempts at escape, taking serious note of Bruce's condition.
"Batman?"
Straightening just a bit to fake his strength, he spoke loudly, his authority faltering as he gasped,
"Let him go Joker..."
His sickening laugh ripped through the warehouse,
"Or you'll what?"
Failing to dodge in time, another bullet tore from the gun in Joker's palm, striking him squarely in the shoulder. Batman silently crumpled to the floor, another sensation of pain ripping through him.
"No!!!"
Tim's voice faded as the world around him began to lose it's focus.
The last image Bruce saw before losing consciousness was a laughing blob of white.
***
The sound of metallic friction slowly filled his ears.
"Rise and shine Batsy. I want you to be awake for this."
Batman's eyes flew open as he was slapped repeatedly with a gloved hand. How he wished more than anything that he could reach up and return the favor, but to his disadvantage, he quickly discovered his arms to be chained securely to a metal operating table. This couldn't possibly be a good thing.
Above him was a large florescent light, casting an off white, eerie glow over the room around them.
Making a quick visual search of the area, he noted that the windows were barred and the door was apparently locked....he could get out of this, he knew it.
In his thumb and index finger, the Joker twirled a recently sharpened scalpel, cackling evilly at his own insanity.
"I'll bet you'll cut up real nice Batman. But not half as nice as Robin did."
An awful sinking feeling grew inside of him as more howling laughter spread through the air.
Desperately searching for Tim, he clenched his left fist with anger, visually locating him.
Robin hung limply from rusty shackles on the wall, horrible cuts and lacerations covering him from head to toe. His body was gruesomely doused in a sickening crimson. But he was alive.....his breathing staggered and obvious.
Bruce's good arm struggled against his restraints, rage boiling inside of him.
"I'll kill you! I swear to God! You're dead you sick son of a-"
His hand pressed over Batman's lips,
"Now now Bats, I gave him the courtesy of his life, which is much more than I plan on extending to you."
His head slammed into the table as Joker's knife penetrated his lower thigh, holding inside a scream with all that the force he could manage.
After a minute or two of laughing, the sharp edge ground further, burrowing it's way into the bone, and turning slightly with a relishing gesture.
"Come on Batman, I can't have fun if you don't tell me when it hurts. Don't be like your little birdie brat."
It was a sick and encouraging thought to know that Tim hadn't given Joker the satisfaction of screaming.
Giving up for only the moment, Joker yanked the small object from his leg, laughing at the involuntary jerk he had pulled from his victim.
"I could keep this up for days Batsy."
Ignoring him, Bruce focused on finding some way out of here, perhaps there was still something that might be able to be done about this situation. He tested all of the chains that held him, finding, to his relief, that the one attached to his right foot gave him a bit of slack.
Glancing back at his enemy, he froze, suddenly struck with concern at the wondering look that had spread over his ugly face.
"You know, I've had millions of chances, but I never...."
He paused, reaching carefully over to the sides of Batman's mask.
Bruce strained despondently, unsuccessfully moving away from Joker's curious hands. The fabric moved easily up and off of his face, lightly falling onto the metal beneath him.
For once, Joker had no reason to laugh, a look of complete surprise on his face.
"You! It can't be..."
The moment of distraction had come at a high cost, but had still come nonetheless. He pulled up with his leg, cringing from the wound the Joker had so kindly given him. Kicking at the bonds that held him there, he easily freed his feet. The chain that wrapped around his hands, uncoiled itself from lack of tension.
Sitting up painfully, he was caught off guard, yelling in excruciating pain as Joker stabbed his thumb into the gunshot on his side.
"Just where do you think you're going Wayne?"
His fist collided with a white jaw, sending the clown flying across the room and into a set of oxygen pumps. Scrambling from the floor, he bluntly swung at Bruce.
He easily dodged him, knocking him again in the face. The Joker growled with anger, throwing himself roughly on top of him.
They both collapsed to the ground, rolling aimlessly into the wall.
Landing beside him, Batman crawled over to the Joker clutching his collar and pulling his face close to his own.
"The key to Robin's locks. NOW!"
Joker laughed,
"You mean Drake?"
Not a shock, Joker was highly intelligent, and had simply put two and two together. Bruce struck him again,
"NOW!"
Still smiling through a swollen lip and two missing teeth, Joker reached into his pocket, his hand roughly stopped by Batman's grasp.
"Take it easy Brucey, or Timmy over there might get hurt."
He pulled a black remote from his purple jacket, pointing innocently over to the oxygen tanks.
A tiny bomb clung to the outside of the far tank, blinking in a slow gentle rhythm.
Bruce clenched his jaw, overpowering his serious urge to punch him again.
Pushing himself reluctantly off of him, he stood shakily upright, pulling the cowl back onto his face.
"Ahhh, Batman again are we? And you call Harvey nuts. HAHAHAHAHA!!!"
As he held his chest in laughter, Joker's thumb pressed down onto a button in the center of the thing he held.
The bomb remained flashing silently as the door in front of them both creaked open. He waved idiotically.
"Ta!"
The door began to shut again, leaving Bruce and Tim trapped within the walls of an impending explosion. Diving at the closing exit, Batman slid his hand into the quickly reducing gap. It did not accomplish what he had meant for it to, instead crushing his hand as it continued to automatically seal.
He finally let himself scream out loud, a new injury wracking his body with anguish. His left hand wrapped around the steel edges, pulling violently at the door, but with no success. It remained squeezing his palm, and breaking each bone in his hand.
***
Three hours passed, the faint blinking of the explosive burning a hole into his mind. He couldn't look at it any longer, but found serious lack of comfort anywhere else.
Tim still hung limply on the wall, a dried brown covering most places where his skin should clearly show. Joker would pay for this, all of it.
During what seemed like an eternity, he had drifted in and out of consciousness, the pain steadily lessening as he lay there. The massive blood loss he'd experienced and his current state of shock acted as natural painkillers, dulling any chance of feeling his wounds.
The room around him spun awkwardly, making him feel a bit nauseous. He slammed his eyes shut, a small tear rolling gently down his cheek. He'd failed Tim...they were both going to die in here and it was his fault.
Through his self guilt, faces and vivid memories of his lost loved ones flashed in his mind. He tried to escape the pictures in his thoughts, but was frightened to see them looming over him.
He was becoming a tad delusional.
"Never give up on what you believe in Bruce."
The faces of Thomas and Martha Wayne came into focus. His mother held her hand out to him, worry ground into her expression,
"Batman, are you all right?"
Even through his extreme exhaustion, he knew that couldn't possibly be his mother. He was never "Batman" to her.
His eyes filled with horror as the images of the two people he once loved more than anything, began to warp and melt, finally taking on forms that seemed more appropriate for his madness.
A hand touched his face,
"Batman?"
Being pulled from his growing insanity, Bruce glanced up towards the distant and muffled voice. Barbara leaned in close, holding his head in her hands.
Bruce's blue eyes narrowed, his will trying to mentally reattach himself to reality.
"Nightwing, I think he's coming back to us."
Another person filled his sight path.
"Can you hear me?" Dick's words echoed off of the walls in his mind.
Tears had welled up in Batgirl's eyes, trying to reassure him, she rubbed his arm. He couldn't feel it.
"Hold on Batman, we're here now."
**
He didn't know how they'd gotten in here, but a large wave of relief had flown through him when he'd seen his companions standing above him. Tim would be all right now, that was all that mattered to him.
Shaking violently, he began to push himself from the ground with one hand, his eyes watering from the reoccurring sensation of being alive. 'Ignore it' he thought.
Dick rushed to help him,
"Lay back down Batman, you're in no condition to-"
He pushed him away, his voice weak and choppy,
"The tanks, get out..."
Batgirl looked at Dick, then back at Bruce, who was now fully standing, and wondered if he was still hallucinating.
"Batman-"
He somehow found it in him to yell, even in his current state, with his normal force and authority.
"GET TIM OUT OF HERE!"
Barb reached for Dick, mumbling something short and inaudible, then turned back to Bruce, leaning in to whisper,
"Bruce, you're not thinking...you can't just say Tim's na-"
An angry reply shot from his lips,
"He knows."
Dick had been undoing the locks around Robin's hands, but stopped to stare when he heard Bruce.
"What?"
Barb ran her hand along his head, feeling uncontrollable pity for the man she thought was temporarily out of his mind.
"Who...what do they know Batman?"
He rested his good shoulder against the wall, looking endlessly back and forth at the others.
"Joker."
Pulling Tim from the chains, and holding him in his arms, Dick walked back to over to them,
"I don't understand."
Frustration churned inside of him,
"He knows!" Trying to make his point clear, he tore the cowl from his face. Barbara gasped,
"He knows who you are?"
Bruce shook his head, and slowly gestured towards them as well as himself,
"He knows who WE are."
Obviously holding his breath, Dick released a long sigh,
"How?"
Trying not to let his temper get the best of him, Bruce answered what he felt to be a stupid question.
"He took it from my face. There was nothing.." He fell to his knees, the pink in his skin fading to a pale yellow.
"..nothing I could do."
Nightwing handed Tim to Batgirl, quickly helping Bruce back onto his feet.
"We need to get you out of here."
Again, he ignored the help he was offered,
"Go, I'll be right behind you."
Barbara shook her head,
"No, we're not going to-"
Bruce tiredly argued his point,
"You'll move faster if you only have to carry Tim. I'll be here when you come back."
Dick grabbed Barb's arm, leading her over to the corner of the room. They spoke silently for a few minutes, before Batgirl came back over to where Bruce barely stood.
She hugged him with her free arm, and vanished through the door. Bruce looked up at Dick, a stern look etched on his face.
"I meant you too."
Pulling Bruce's uninjured arm around his shoulder, Dick slowly lead him out.
"I don't listen to you, remember?"
He hid a smile, concentrating mostly on keeping upright.
"The bomb..."
He trailed off, twisting out of Nightwing's hold, and limping to the canisters.
"Bruce what are you..."
Spotting the device on the tank, Dick again tried to move him,
"Leave it!"
They both froze as a small beep was emitted from it, revealing itself to now be armed.
"BATMAN, LET'S GO!"
Dick pulled on him again, this time succeeding in his message. They had to get out of there.
Still bleeding, Bruce placed his crushed hand against his side as they again headed for the exit, feeling nothing but the urgency to evacuate.
"Well if it isn't Bruce's little imp, Grayson. Come here to die did you?"
Their eyes fell on him at the same time. Dick's grip tightened a little, his anger showing in his tone,
"Joker."
***
Batgirl rested Tim gently onto the pavement in the parking lot, looking back up at the old Warehouse with worry. If they hadn't come out in the next five minutes, she was prepared to head back in.
Searching around her, she spotted a payphone, running quickly towards it. First she had to take care of Robin.
***
"I'll handle this."
Nightwing released him, making certain he was able to stand before moving in between Bruce and the Joker.
"Come a little closer and say that."
"With pleasure."
He pulled a card from his sleeve, throwing it viciously at Dick. He raised his arm to block it, letting out a painful yell as it sliced his skin. He recovered instantly, returning his eyes to meet Joker's with a hint of a smirk on his face,
"That's it?"
Joker looked slightly flustered,
"No kiddo, actually I've got plenty more."
He threw several others, the metal gleaming from the overhead light as they flew through the air.
Each one found it's target, hitting random parts of his arms as he blocked them. He disregarded the new blood that leaked from his cuts, still staring angrily at his foe.
Thinking for a minute, he snapped his fingers, pulling a large joker card from his front pocket and grinning hideously.
"Time to die Robin."
He flung the card, it's path headed stealthily for Dick's face.
Two fingers flashed quickly from underneath it, pulling it from it's course.
Joker's face sunk,
"No fair Brucey!"
Batman tossed the weapon aside, taking long, painful strides towards the seemingly shrinking psychopath.
Leaving Dick seething inside of the little room, he slowly entered the hallway and drew in towards the Joker, his large hand wrapping violently around his neck.
He pinned him against the wall in a rage filled frenzy, his fingers tightening, crushing the air from his throat.
"Enough, Joker. This ends now."
Joker still somehow managed to laugh.
"You're right Brucey."
A sickening feeling washed over him as he saw what was still resting in the Joker's hand....the remote. His purple gloved thumb pressed the far left button.
***
Okay, that was it, she was going in. The ambulances had been there for 15 minutes, what was taking them so long?
Making sure Tim was in good, none curious hands, Barbara ran for the building, seriously hoping that she wasn't needed in there.
She was thrown from her feet, landing hard against the black turf beneath her as flames burst from the windows of the building.
Coughing from the smoke that poured from the open doors, she pushed herself from the ground, screaming for her friends and hoping to God that they were all right.
***
Bruce's eyes stung horribly as he opened them, the smoke filling every orifice in the area. He coughed loudly, taking a minute to search for the gas mask attached to his utility belt. His left hand wrapped around the elastic strap, pulling it gently onto his face.
"Nightwing?"
His voice was barely pushed from his chest, he wondered if he was even speaking at all.
Reaching for a nearby doorframe, he slowly managed to pull himself up from the rubble. He was certain that what he lay on was none other than the floor of the second story.
Walking hunched to ease the stinging and to avoid smoke, he stumbled around, insistently searching throughout the area's darkness.
"Dick?"
Silence consumed him, ringing loudly in his ears.
Dragging his feet, he eventually caught his foot under a slab of concrete, sending him roughly to the floor. Smacking his hurt shoulder against the debris, he grit his teeth. Not so much out of pain, but sheer frustration of everything that had happened.
He rested momentarily, everything he'd been through that night, finally catching up to him.
He could feel the life slipping away from him as his breathing began to stagger, but he wouldn't accept it, pushing it from body and mind as it threatened to shut his eyes for good. He should've already been dead, only God knew why he wasn't, but first he needed to find Dick.
Lifting his arm above his head, he started to crawl on his stomach, dragging his injuries across a jagged floor. The lack of pain briefly crossed his mind, but was disregarded as useless information. He couldn't possibly care about himself right now,
"Dick?"
He shook intensely as he moved, forcing another moments rest. For two minutes he lay deathly still, waiting patiently for the shuddering to subside.
He had every intention of crawling every inch of this place to find Nightwing, yanking forward again.
Soft gasping and choking stopped him in his tracks.
"Dick?"
Bruce's voice was still too weak, only reaching far enough for his own ears.
Nothing...
He started to wonder if he'd been hallucinating again. No, there is was once more...QUIET....but there, followed immediately by,
"Batman?"
He was alive, thank God.
Bruce rolled over, wearing an exhausted smile before beginning to slip from the world. Tim was safe, and Dick was alive. Nothing else mattered to him.
Dick bent down to him, trying to help him back up onto his feet. Bruce shook his head, resting his hand lightly against the face of a young man he's always considered to be a member of his family.
"Go Dick..."
He shook his head, confused,
"What are you talking about? There is plenty of time to-"
A loud rumbling came from somewhere above them.
Pieces of the ceiling fell around them, but they had not been scathed by any of it.
Nightwing knelt close to Batman's face,
"Come on Bruce, get up....please."
He pushed himself to keep breathing just a little while longer,
"I'm sorry Dick."
His face was filled with puzzlement,
"What are you getting at Wayne?"
He sighed, trying to again retrieve the energy for another apology.
"I'm sorry for the way I've acted towards you Dick. You were always importa-"
He coughed, a small drop of red leaking from the corner of his mouth.
Dick put his hand under his back, pulling him up into a sitting position.
"I'm getting the hell out of here, and so are you."
A voice rose from behind them,
"On the contrary Dickey Bird, neither of you are leaving here alive."
Craning his neck, Dick turned just in time to inhale something Joker sprayed on him. He began to hack, his eyes watering uncontrollably. Twitching and convulsing, he fell to the ground next to Batman, still holding his hand cupped over his mouth.
Joker's loud laughter was all Bruce could hear, presenting one more reason for Bruce to delay his growing darkness.
Stepping over him, Joker grasped the front of Bruce's suit in his hand, a knife sliding perfectly into his hand.
"I'd offer you last words, but I'm really not interested in what you have to say. Hahahahahahaha!"
Taking advantage of the leverage, Batman threw a small explosive onto the surface above them, wracking the warehouse with yet another blast.
A large piece of plaster achieved just what Bruce had hoped, and struck Joker on the forehead. He swayed about, trying to keep his balance before landing face first back where he'd come from.
"Batman?"
He looked up, hearing a faint female voice. He'd never been so pleased to see Barbara.
"Dick, Joker-"
He couldn't speak, slumping back down, and trying to remain in control of himself.
Barb received his meaning, checking instantly on Nightwing. She placed her two fingers on his neck, leaving them there for a ludicrous amount of time. She moved her hand around his throat, searching.....
"Oh God."
Batman uttered. He was dead. This couldn't be right.
Barbara broke down, loudly bawling as she fell over him.
"No....."
Tears blinded him as the world around him spun,
"NOOOOO!!!!!!"