Bruce looked around the hospital gala in paralyzing fear. There were armed guards at each wall, hindering any escape attempts, and Jerome was up on the stage forcing people to volunteer for his gruesome acts. Bruce stood out of sight as he heard Jerome request for him. He hated to admit it, but he was afraid. Were these people really not going to try and help him? He was hiding behind a huge maroon curtain as Jerome called his name over and over. It's all part of the plan. He was planning on staying hidden all night until he heard Barbara suggest to kill Alfred in his stead. He watched as Alfred wove his way through the huge crowd and stepped onto stage. Jerome immediately grabbed the older man, pointing a black pistol to his head.
"Brucie!" he called out in a terrifyingly cheerful voice. Bruce could tell that Jerome really enjoyed this part- toying with his victims until they were too broken to be played with anymore. At this point, Bruce still hadn't moved from his spot-he was trying to stick to the plan- when Jerome decided to kill Alfred right then and there if Bruce didn't show himself. Bruce grabbed the edge of the curtain and was just about to reveal himself when he felt someone tug on his arm. He turned around and found the person he hated the most in the world- Detective Jim Gordon. Jim looked frazzled at best, with bags under his eyes and his suit on crookedly. In one hand he brandished a gun, and he was waving his other hand frantically. It was at this moment that Bruce realized he had been saying something. Not wanting to find out what it was. Bruce opened the curtain and stepped in front of the petrified crowd.
"Stop! Don't hurt Alfred. Here I am. Don't hurt him. Please Jerome" Bruce yelled out in desperation. Alfred turned to look at him in shock as Jerome whirled away from him and pulled Bruce onto the stage. It's all part of the plan. Bruce did his best to look terrified for the crowd as Jerome put a knife to his neck. Jim burst out of the curtain and pointed a gun at him and Jerome. Alfred took a cue from him and grabbed another pistol and aimed at him and Jerome.
"I can't get a clear shot!" Jim yelled in desperation as he searched for a way that he could hurt Jerome without hitting Bruce as well. Jerome giggled as he pressed the knife into Bruce, creating a large cut on his neck where blood started pouring out. Bruce whimpered in defeat as the others around him scrambled for a plan. We have a plan. It's all going according to the plan. Jerome's grip on him tightened, and Bruce's heart leapt with excitement as he thought about what was going to happen next. He turned slightly to see the happy look on Jerome's face when Theo Galavan walked up and stabbed him. Jerome's grip slackened as Bruce stumbled away in pure shock. That wasn't according to the plan. Theo stabbed deeper into Jerome's neck as Bruce watched his love die.
"Bruce" Jerome gasped, the whisper leaving his lips almost as soon as the light left his eyes. Bruce was brought out of his shock by hearing his body hit the floor. He ran over, tears streaming down his dirty face, too late to save his only love from death. He didn't fell it as his knees scraped the floor; all he could think about was what had just happened. Jerome was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, his red hair blending in with the horrible stuff. He had a smile on his face that would have made Bruce happy if it didn't mean he was dead. Bruce screamed in anguish as someone lifted him up from the corpse, faced with the realization that Jerome was really gone. His sweet, loving Jerome whom he'd saved from an abusive mother not too long ago. Bruce's mind cleared for a split second as he realized who had done this, and what he needed to do in return. I need to make him pay. He can't get away with this. He betrayed us. You'll see, Jerome, we'll get the last laugh. He stood up and hobbled over towards Theo, blood still spouting from his neck. Theo was smiling innocently at Bruce, it was almost as if he didn't realize what was about to happen. I'd stop laughing if I were you, Theo, cause you ain't seen nothing yet! Bruce giggled out loud until he couldn't stop. Tears started streaming down his face as he almost collapsed in hysterical laughter. He could feel Alfred moving towards him, but he pushed him away. He didn't want help, not when what he had to do was so crucial. He mustered all of his strength and looked Theo in the eye. He absentmindedly grabbed at the pistol that was at his feet and aimed at Theo. He heard several gasps from the audience, and maybe one or two from Jim or Alfred.
'That wasn't according to the plan, Theo" his voice shook when he spoke for the first time. The look on Theo's face was one of utter terror and confusion. Bruce wiped the gun against his bloody suit and then cocked it before pointing it back at Theo. He supposed he wasn't in his right mind, especially after witnessing Jerome d- after witnessing what happened to Jerome. Bruce's brown eyes met Theo's darker ones, and he could fell his lip quivering with excitement at knowing he would be the one to kill Theo Galavan. He could feel all the eyes in the room on him, and saw a reflection of himself on the TV just outside of the door. He looked positively manic, his dark hair tousled and matted with blood, his eyes full of rage, his neck bleeding, and his suit scuffed and covered in blood while he was pointing a gun at someone who the world viewed as innocent.
"I know, this isn't what we rehearsed. I'm so sorry Bruce, but Gotham needed a hero." Theo reasoned, his eyes searching Bruce's desperately for some hint of compassion, anything that might spare his measly life.
"YOU KILLED HIM! You knew how much I loved him and you killed him!' Bruce flew into a rage, kicking a podium near him, tearing at his hair, and screaming a good deal before pointing his gun back at Theo. "I can't let you get away with it" he said as he fired the gun. It hit Theo square in the shoulder and he was blown backwards, Bruce vaguely heard screaming and running and someone pushed him down. He struggled in their grip until he realized it was Alfred. The look of sorrow which Alfred gave him made Bruce suddenly regret what he had done. Bruce's head was spinning. It was too much. Theo was dead, Bruce was a murderer, and Jerome was…still alive! He couldn't be dead. It was all a joke. Jerome wasn't dead. Nobody realized it, but something inside Bruce snapped, and he knew suddenly that everything would be alright. Jerome was waiting for him back at the manor, and Alfred was taking him there now. Jim came up to Bruce and slapped handcuffs on him, then pulled him off the table he was on and pulled him into a police car that was waiting outside. He kept saying things about Arkham Asylum, but Bruce didn't care. Jerome was alright, that was all that mattered. He'd only hurt Theo because Theo had tried to kill Jerome. Jim kept saying Jerome was dead, but Bruce knew the truth, Jerome had just gotten hurt and everyone was exaggerating.
They arrived at the police station shortly afterwards, and Jim was already talking to a psychiatrist about Bruce. She kept saying things about Arkham, things Bruce didn't want to hear. Alfred came in and visited him.
"You're going to go away for awhile Master Bruce. I'm afraid I won't see you for a long time" Alfred's voice cracked and his face broke as he looked at Bruce. Poor Master Bruce, who had foolishly fallen in love with a madman who was destined to die.
"I heard them talking about Arkham. About some sort of condition they have to break me out of. They keep saying Jerome is dead, but they're wrong. I just saw him! He's right there!" Bruce looked over and saw Jerome smiling at him. Jerome pulled his finger to his mouth in a "shh" motion and then began to laugh, Bruce laughing with him. Bruce didn't understand how Alfred didn't see Jerome when he was standing in plain sight.
"You know talking to yourself is the first sign of madness. Although you're headed for the nuthouse anyway, so what does it matter?" asked Jerome, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Shut up Jerome" Bruce said, cracking a smile. He was the happiest he'd ever felt. As he watched the exchange between Bruce and a wall, Alfred realized, with a great deal of sorrow, that Bruce was happy believing Jerome was alive. He was secure in his own little fantasy. He would never get Bruce back. Alfred left Bruce talking to the wall and went to talk to the woman who would be Bruce's doctor at Arkham Asylum.
"I don't want you to cure Master Bruce" he stated. She looked at him with an expression of shock and he could see why. Not many people would want their loved ones to not get better, but he knew what was best for Master Bruce, and he knew this was the only way he'd be happy. Alfred would miss the boy, but now was not the time to be selfish.
"W-why not?"
"Because he's happy the way he is. And I may never get the little bollock back, but I'll be damned if he lives out the rest of his life in misery. He's happy the way he is. Put him in a straitjacket and lock him up if you have to, but don't destroy his world. Lord knows it's been destroyed enough." It was hard to fight back tears. Alfred knew this was the last night he'd see Bruce outside of the asylum, and he wanted nothing more than for this to have been a very bad dream that he would wake up from soon. The doctor left without another word to lead Bruce to the car that would take him to Arkham. She emerged with Bruce, and Bruce turned and gave Alfred a heartwarming smile and said "See ya, Alfred!" as they took him away.
"Poor little chap, he thinks they'll let me see him" Alfred said to himself as he dried the tears off his face with his handkerchief. Bruce waved to him once more from the car, but this time Alfred didn't wave back.