God, I'm Tired
Where's Jeremiah?
Bruce had been asking himself that question over and over again for months. There had been no sign of Jeremiah ever since the night he last kidnapped Bruce and blew up the bridges. Bruce's endless searching for the pale-faced madman had yielded no results whatsoever.
Jeremiah had accomplished what no other villain in Gotham had. His bombs plunged the city into chaos and made it the bleak No Man's Land it is today. Yet Jeremiah himself was not around to revel in his success. His absence unnerved Bruce immensely. He knew that most of Gotham's psychopaths, such as Jeremiah's twin brother Jerome, were more predictable in their showman-like attitude. Jerome could never stand to be out of the spotlight for long. And while his reigns of chaos were terrifying they never lasted long. Jeremiah was different. Unlike his twin he was content in biding his time and waiting for the exact right moment to strike. Bruce was determined to stop him before he got the chance. He failed to stop Jeremiah before and now everyone around him was paying the price for it. Bruce didn't know what else Jeremiah had up his sleeve but he knew that it probably entailed the bloodshed of more innocents and that Jeremiah likely intended for Bruce to be around to witness whatever twisted schemes he had in the works.
All of this time looking for his former friend had taken its toll on Bruce. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in months. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw Jeremiah. Not as the monster he is today, but as he used to be. The shy timid nerd whose eyes lite up whenever Bruce complimented him on his work. The soft-spoken gentleman who fidgeted with his glasses and his ginger hair whenever he got nervous, which was a lot. The nerd whose face would go bright red whenever Bruce would 'accidentally' touch his hands. It seemed like a lifetime ago when they would spend hours in his bunker talking to one another as if they didn't have a care in the world. He missed the real Jeremiah. His Jeremiah. The man he loved before Jerome's laughing toxin ruined everything.
To keep himself from fully succumbing to despair over all he has lost, Bruce was resolved to find Jeremiah and put an end to his madness once and for all. While he was last at the GCPD headquarters he overheard some cops talking about an unusual amount of people gathering in what once used to be the theater district. That's where Bruce was searching now. Whatever was going on probably did not have anything to do with Jeremiah but he was so desperate he'd take any potential lead he could get.
That's when Bruce realized where he was. In his sleep fatigued daze he had somehow not noticed that he had wandered into the dreaded alley he swore never to return to. Suddenly he was 12 years old again. Watching helplessly as a masked gunman shot his parents. He could still hear the sound of the gunshot and of his mother's pearl necklace hitting the pavement in pieces. Bruce relived that moment a million times in his nightmares. He didn't think he would ever get over it. Yet here he was standing in the very place his parents were murdered in front of him feeling guilty that his preoccupation with Jeremiah had somehow made him forget that the anniversary of their deaths was only two days from now.
It was too painful for Bruce to linger here much longer.
He started to leave when something unusual caught his eye. Across the alley there had been a fire escape on the side of the adjacent building. That was where he sat as he watched the police take his parents' bodies away and where he met Jim Gordon for the first time. Now the fire escape was completely missing. In its place was a giant hole. Bruce looked down into the dark void. Common sense would tell him to turn around and leave but something drew him in anyways, albeit against his better judgment. Bruce hesitantly started making his way down makeshift stairs. That's when he came across an enormous underground tunnel.
He was stunned. The amount of manpower this must've taken to dig this was astonishing. Even in normal times this would've been a feat of engineering genius. But to build it under Gotham's current anarchical conditions was nothing short of extraordinary.
Not knowing what he was about to face in the tunnel Bruce double-checked both of his pockets to make sure he still had both his gun and knife in case he had to defend himself. He then began making his way through the tunnel, which was much longer than he expected. Soon he couldn't the end in either direction. He was thankful for the dim lights that lite up the path every 300 yards or so but couldn't help but wonder where they derived their power. Perhaps Jeremiah was behind this. He was a genius after all and was comfortable living underground. But that didn't expect what purpose the tunnel served and Jeremiah was more a fan of complex mazes over tunnels with a single path. Some time later Bruce reached the end of the tunnel. Once he saw where he was he knew without a doubt that the tunnel was most definitely Jeremiah's doing.
Bruce exited the tunnel and entered the living room of Wayne Manor. Jeremiah must've gotten his followers to dig this tunnel under the river so he could reach Bruce's childhood home. Even after all their time apart it was clear that Jeremiah's obsession with Bruce hadn't faded.
Bruce tiptoed around his empty home looking for any signs of Jeremiah's presence. It was eerie how unchanged the manor was. Bruce and Alfred had been gone for months yet there was no cobwebs or dust in sight. If anything the place was more spotless than it had ever been before. After sweeping the downstairs Bruce made his way up the grand staircase and into his bedroom. He was hit with a wave of nostalgia for simpler times being in his old room again. His bed looked inviting: freshly made with his old bat sheets and everything.
How great would it feel to get in his bed, hide under the covers and pretend that these past five years had never happened? Bruce was considering doing just that when he heard footsteps approaching. Bruce pulled out his gun just as Jeremiah entered through the doorway.
"Bruce" Jeremiah exclaimed as if he just unexpectedly ran into an angel. He was wearing a dapper bright blue suit with his now black hair perfectly combed and skin even more ghostly white than before.
Bruce held tight onto his gun still firmly pointing it in Jeremiah's direction. The look Jeremiah was giving him threw him rendered him speechless. He looked so genuinely overjoyed to see him that it reminded Bruce of the old Jeremiah.
"You're early my darling," Jeremiah swooned. "I was not anticipating your arrival for another 2 days. I've been working on a very special gift for you."
"You mean the tunnel," Bruce asked wearily.
Jeremiah laughs, "No my sweet Bruce, that is merely the first part of it. Not nearly enough to demonstrate my devotion to you. I've been working tirelessly on a reunion of sorts. But I will not say any more don't want to ruin the surprise."
Jeremiah casually strolls over to Bruce until the gun is touching his forehead.
"So let me get this straight you blow up the city and don't have to witness any of the fallout because you've been living in my house" Bruce spat.
"Of course Brucie. I'm sorry we had to be apart for so long. It was so hard not being near you but I felt it was best to give you space after our last um… encounter."
"You mean when you cut off Gotham from the outside world."
"Hm… details details. But you were never far from my mind Bruce. I still wanted to get to know you better. And what better place to do so! Did you know your father kept journals? I've learned so many interesting tidbits from your childhood. Like how your favorite sandwich is a Grilled Cheese with…"
"Stop" Bruce interrupted the maniac. "Do you know all the damage you've caused? You're a terrorist! Thousands of innocents died when you detonated those bombs. Gotham is a warzone between all the gangs fighting over the limited food and water supplies while the citizens who survived your bombings get caught in the crossfires. And Selina may never walk again because of you " Bruce's voice cracked. "Why Jeremiah why?"
Jeremiah paused contemplating his response carefully.
"Sometimes when you love someone you do crazy things for them" he replied calmly. "Everything I did was in the service of making you the hero you are destined to be. You don't understand it yet but you will. You and I are bound together it is the only thing I know for certain. Everyone else is of little consequence. When Gotham falls we rise. And only with my help will you become the Dark Knight I know you can be. You need me Bruce just as I need you. To deny that simple truth would be like telling a joke without a punchline."
Bruce is silent. Unable to fully process Jeremiah's words, his fingers dangerously close to pulling the trigger.
Jeremiah glances up at the gun still pressed to his head: "Now what are you going to do with that my dear Bruce?"
"I'm going to kill you" Bruce bluffs.
"No you're not" Jeremiah snickers.
"I am"
"You're not"
"I am"
"You like me too much" Jeremiah giggles teasingly.
Bruce trembles and lowers his weapon. He's unsure how to proceed. They still have so much they need to say to one another.
Jeremiah raises an eyebrow "So what now Bruce?"
"I'm going to tell you something. Sit down" he commanded.
Jeremiah obediently sat down on the deckchair opposite the bed eager to hear what his crush had to say. Bruce sat on the edge of his bed facing Jeremiah and takes a long deep breath:
"You should mean nothing to me after all you've done. But I…I think about you all the time. I think about what you're wearing, and what you're doing, and who you're doing it with. I think about how brave you were that day we first met, I think about how lonely all those years living in that underground bunker must've been, and what shampoo you have, and what happened in your family while you lived with the circus, and how differently things could've turned out for us. I think about your amazing intellect, your alluring eyes and your mouth, and what you feel when you kill someone, I think about what you have for breakfast. I just want to know everything."
For what is probably the first time in his life Jeremiah feels genuinely touched:
"I think about you, too" Jeremiah smiles "I mean, I masturbate about you all the time."
"Okay, that..." Bruce began.
"Too much?" Jeremiah laughs.
"No it's just I uh wasn't expecting that." Bruce is suddenly eager to change the subject. "What do you want Jeremiah? Honestly, don't be a dick."
"I just wanna be connected to you," he admits. "I offered for you to be my best friend and you rejected me. But I've realized that if we can't be friends we can be connected in other ways. It doesn't matter to me whether we are bonded by love or hatred as long as I am the most important person in your life. The man you see when you close your eyes."
Bruce let out a long sigh. He was so over this shit. Nothing with Jeremiah was ever easy. They would probably be playing this ridiculous game of cat and mouse their entire lives, to the detriment of themselves and everyone unfortunate enough to be around them. He tossed the gun aside knowing that Jeremiah was too obsessed with him to kill him.
"God, I'm tired" Bruce yawns as he lies back on his bed. All the exhaustion from all those months protecting the city and searching for Jeremiah finally catches up with him.
"Aren't you tired?" he asks Jeremiah.
"A little" Jeremiah concedes slowly making his way over towards the bed and lying down next to Bruce. Jeremiah turns and stares into the younger man's eyes and they snuggle up next to each other. They both close their eyes and lay there for a while simply enjoying each other's company. Who they are and what they've done no longer matters. The rest of the world and their so called destines temporarily fade away. They are just two kindred spirits. Each of their bodies clinging to the other for comfort. Both feel deprived of affection and are grateful for the others' presence.
"You found me," Jeremiah finally whispers.
"Ya it certainly wasn't easy."
"Well done"
Bruce can't help but laugh, "thank you."
Jeremiah leans in closer: "will you stay for a bit?" he pleads
"Sure."
Jeremiah reaches out to rest his hand on Bruce's cheek and gently strokes it. His fingers slowly brush through Bruce's raven black hair while his other hand tugs at the collar of Bruce's turtleneck. Neither man pulls away as their lips finally meet for the first time. Both of them savor this first kiss knowing very that it very well may also be their last. As their tongues interlock, Bruce loathes himself for how much he's enjoying this. How much he's always wanted this. Wanted him.
Jeremiah more than reciprocates the kiss, never wanting this moment to end. For the first time in his life he is in a state of pure bliss. Completely content. All he ever wanted was Bruce and here he is willingly giving himself to him. Perhaps no more bloodshed or terrorizing of the city was necessary. Bruce was the only thing Jeremiah ever cared about anyways. Now that they were here together everything else, all his once grandiose plans, felt trivial.
"I've never done anything like this before" Bruce nervously pants as Jeremiah bites down on his lip.
"It's okay" Jeremiah comforts him. "I know what I'm doing. And I just really want you to know how much I love y-" he is suddenly cut off by something incredibly sharp poking his gut. He looks down and is almost unable to comprehend the knife Bruce has pressed against his stomach.
"Wow that's rude" Jeremiah croaks.
"Yeah…" Bruce agrees.
"You can't" Jeremiah is certain.
"I can" Bruce says without hesitation as he drives the knife through Jeremiah's abdomen. Within an instant Jeremiah rolls over in pain. Never letting go of the knife, Bruce violently straddles himself on top of the man he was making out with mere seconds prior. Bruce twists the knife around deeper as more of Jeremiah's blood starts rushing out. It feels good to cause Jeremiah a fraction of the pain he has caused this city.
"IT HURTS IT HURTS" Jeremiah screams.
How could Bruce do this to me? Jeremiah frantically thinks to himself. Was everything he just said about wanting to know me a lie? No. NO. Bruce would NEVER. This is his way of showing me how much he cares. That he understands.
"You do feel it Bruce" Jeremiah cackles through the pain. "The connection between us!"
Bruce lets go as Jeremiah lets out another shriek. Jeremiah firmly grabs the knife pulling it out his stomach. Their faces mere inches apart, Jeremiah stares suggestively into Bruce's eyes as he licks the blade clean, blood still pouring out from his stab wound all the while.
"OH GOD OH GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE" Bruce panics. He had every intention of stopping Jeremiah but he couldn't stand to see his former friend in such pain. If I murder him like this then I am no better than he is. If I do this he will have won.
"Hold on I have a first aid kit I can use to stop the bleeding." Bruce yells as he runs over to the dresser.
The instant Bruce leaves the bed, Jeremiah pounces; making a beeline for the gun Bruce had so carelessly discarded earlier.
BANG BANG BANG. He fires towards Bruce.
Bruce jumps behind the dresser. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING I AM TRYING TO HELP YOU."
But Jeremiah can't hear Bruce.
"AH HA HA HA HA HA HAHAHA HA" he is caught in a fit of laughter that is positively Jeromesque. The laughing only exacerbates the bleeding which at this point has stained the floor red.
"HA HA HA HA HAHAHA!" all Jeremiah can do is laugh and think about how this is all he ever wanted.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" the convulsive laughter shows no signs of stopping.
"AU REVOIR BRUCIE! YOU'LL BE SEEING ME SOON."
More gunshots rig out. A bullet grazes Bruce's leg. Bruce struggles to stand. Jeremiah is nowhere in sight.
"NO NO NO" Bruce screams. He crawls through the pools of blood Jeremiah left behind, soaking his clothing in it. He makes it to the hallway.
"JEREMIAH JEREMIAH" he yells. "COME BACK. FACE ME."
Bruce falls down the stairs following the trial of blood. His own blood mixing with Jeremiah's. With a thud he hits the ground floor. By now he knows that Jeremiah is gone once again. Out of his reach.
"Where's Jeremiah" he cries to himself "Where's Jeremiah?"