CHAPTER II
The night before, when I went to sleep, I was immediately assaulted by dreams. The one I remember best was also the worst. I saw the whole thing in third person. It began with me. Just me. No one else. I was standing stock still in the middle of a large, dark space. There was a beam of light surrounding me. By far the most unsettling aspect even at this point was my face. I was simply staring straight ahead, tear tracks running down my face. My mouth was void of expression, and my eyes didn't blink once. But what was I staring at? The light expanded, growing in diameter until it was around two other people: my parents. Not this again, I thought. I waited, but nothing seemed to happen for a couple seconds. Even stranger, unlike in other dreams of mine, my parents weren't bleeding or sad. They looked happy to see me. But why didn't I seem happy? I got my answer soon enough. Two gunshots rang out, and as they fell, they slowly morphed into Dick and Alfred. They died, their eyes still open. "You could never have saved your parents," said a mocking, familiar voice, "And I guarantee you won't save them." The light expanded for the last time, revealing Harvey Dent. Not White Knight. Harvey Dent. His face was uncovered, the left side as decimated as when I saw it last. He was grinning widely, and for a moment he reminded me of the Joker. But this was different. The Joker was insane, yet somehow amiable and philosophic. What I saw on Harvey Dent's face was more…menacing, more mindless. The malice I'd felt facing Bane was nothing next to Harvey Dent. He seemed to have no warmth in his face or any other piece of his being.
I woke up in a cold sweat, breathing raggedly. I sighed, covering my face for a minute. Soon enough, I let my hands drop to the surface of my bed, looking up and groaning. I rubbed my forehead, throwing off the sheets. My feet hit the floor, and I got up, grabbing my cane. I hobbled into the kitchen, seeing Dick already preparing bacon. Without looking back at me, he said, "Morning, Gregory." "Morning, Dick," I said, without any humor. Dick looked at me, saying, "What's up with you?" "Just a dream," I said. "Dude, you're about ready to drown in your own sweat," said Dick, "That tells me it wasn't 'just' a dream." I sighed, saying, "Fine." I described the dream. By the end, Dick was turned towards me, giving me his full attention. "I get it," he said, "You're scared because you let Dent go. And now you think he'll come after me and Alfred." I shook my head, saying, "Yeah, something like that. Watch the bacon." Dick widened his eyes, quickly turning and getting the bacon out of the skillet and onto a plate. "Thanks," said Dick. "Don't mention it," I said. Dick walked over to the table, followed closely by myself. Dick set down the bacon, and we just grabbed whatever we wanted and ate it. Halfway through my first piece, I said, "So how you holding up?" "After last night?" said Dick, "Fine, considering, I guess. But I just can't get Harvey Dent out of my head. I mean, poor guy..." "If only it had gone another way for him," I said, finishing the thought.
Dick nodded, saying, "Living with so much hate and anger…it would eat me up." "I don't know about that," I said, "Truth be told, humans like to be angry, they like to hate. It's a terrible thing, but we just keep making the excuse that it 'comes in handy'." "So you're saying anyone could end up like he did?" asked Dick. "Given the right circumstances, probably," I said. "Man, we are messed up," said Dick. "Never heard anything truer," I said. "You got any news on Bane?" asked Dick. "I don't know, let me check," I said, getting up. I went to my room, grabbing my phone. I called Jim Gordon, saying, "Jim. What's Bane's status?" Jim answered, "Sulking. He'll be in a cozy cell of his own in just a little while. And…" He trailed off. I said, "Yes? And…?" "The Joker wants to talk to you again." I didn't speak for a few seconds. I already had an inkling of what he wanted to talk about. Probably something about the twisted nature of humans and more specifically Gotham. "I'll be there soon," I said. "Sounds good," said Jim, "I've got to go. My daughter won a photography contest." Must be Barbara, I thought. "By the way, you figured out who's been taking pictures of me and sending them to the paper?" "No," said Jim, sighing, "Why?" "Just curious," I said, smiling, "I'm about to leave. Tell the Joker I'll be there." "Got it," said Jim, hanging up. I stood, and Dick saw my smile, saying, "What's got you so happy?" "Your girlfriend's a smart one," I said. Dick rolled his eyes, saying, "She's not my girlfriend! She's hot, but she's not…you know what, you're not going to let this go anyway." "Nope," I said smugly. Dick said, "I wish you knew what having a conversation like this is like." I furrowed my brow and opened my mouth, but decided against speaking, instead closing my mouth and shaking my head slightly. "What?" asked Dick, as I walked out of the manor and out to the Batcave.
I suited up, setting down my cane. "That's better," I said, stretching. I sighed, satisfied, and hopped in the Batmobile. I sped down the back roads to Arkham Asylum. When I got there, I made a beeline for the Joker. I said to the guard posted at his cell, "I understand he wants to talk to me." The guard nodded, unlocking the cell and letting the Joker out. The guard and I led the Joker to a cell in solitary. We went inside, and the Joker sat down on the floor. I leaned on the wall. The Joker looked me in the eye and said, "You got any Halls cough drops? I've been feeling dry down there." I shook my head, saying, "What do you want?" The Joker said, "Right to the point, all the time! You got to take it slow sometimes! Seriously, take a page out of Jamaica's book." I rolled my eyes, staying silent. The Joker seemed interested, his eternal smile changing to a smirk. "You know," he said, looking at the floor, "It's kind of funny. Your mother's maiden name was Arkham, right?" "Yeah," I said reluctantly, "What's that got to do with anything?" "Nothing," said the Joker, looking back up at me, "I just thought it was funny. Amadeus Arkham kept this place as a house, and his kids and their kids lived here. That included your mother. And now, you make regular visits." "So it's funny to you because it's ironic," I said. The Joker nodded, saying, "Now, down to business. Heard you took the big guy down." "Bane," I said, "Yeah, he's about to be locked up." "Success, then, sir, success," said the Joker, clapping ceremoniously.
"What are you really wanting?" I asked. The Joker stopped clapping, his hands still suspended in the air. He seemed to be spaced out. "JOKER," I said loudly. He shook his head, saying, "Sorry, my train of thought derailed. There were no survivors. Oh, wait, here's one. Doesn't look too good, though." "Dent," I said. The Joker held up his pointer finger, saying, "Ah, no, not Dent. I already told you. He'd be better as Two-Face now." "I'm not going to start calling him Two-Face," I said. "Doesn't mean I can't," said the Joker, "What's your problem with giving him a name, anyway?" "He went through something like I did," I said, "It was just his choices. I'm not going to dehumanize him with a joking name." "Dehumanize?" said the Joker, scoffing, "Like you've done to yourself? Don't tell me I can't see those ears on your mask." I sighed, saying, "I didn't make this." "Doesn't matter," said the Joker, "You still cease to be Bruce Wayne when you step into that suit." "At least I can step out," I said, "Dent doesn't have a choice. He's stuck with that face of his. The face you gave him, mind you." "What can I say?" said the Joker nonchalantly. I stared at the Joker menacingly. The Joker said, "Ooh, scary. Come on, man. Even though I am responsible for his face, it was Joseph who wanted it this way." "What do you mean?" I asked. The Joker, "This guy, Joseph…it seems to me he likes to see people deconstructed, stripped of themselves. He wants to see what's underneath. For me, it was revenge and strangely, a humorous frame of mind. For Bane, it was malice and a thirst for useless conquest. For our friend Two-Face…it's darkness and criminal insanity." I looked down at the floor, not wanting to admit he was right.
Still looking at the floor, I said, "He didn't seem insane when last I saw him." "Really?" asked the Joker, raising his eyebrows, "Not even a small show of insanity presented itself when you saw him last?" I quickly looked back up to the Joker, beginning," No, I…" I trailed off, clenching my teeth and closing my eyes. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, saying, "Fine, yes. I saw something." I remembered how Dent parted with me and Dick. His final words to us weren't as important as how he said them. There was a craze behind them, an unseen mass of unbalance. The Joker laughed, saying, "Well, in that case, he's either spiraling or he's already nuts!" I stopped, saying, "Wait. You haven't ever used the word 'nuts' to represent insanity. What do you mean?" "I was hoping you would catch that," said the Joker, "What I mean is: there's a difference between plain crazy and nuts. I'm plain crazy. If someone were nuts, that would mean they show signs of increased, even animalistic aggression. It would mean their concept of mercy is gone. Being nuts isn't only criminal insanity, it's violent insanity. When you see Two-Face next, expect to see some blood on him." This comment made my sorrowful thoughts towards Dent even worse. The Joker rolled his eyes, saying, "Look, you can't avoid the fact that this guy is out of his mind. He's going to definitely going to kill someone, and he's going to try to kill you. And even worse, he's got nothing to lose. That's the worst kind of criminal. They can do whatever they want, because hey, being in jail wouldn't be worse than being out in the world for them." "Is that all?" I said. "Yeah," said the Joker, "I've given you enough food for thought. Your mind might get pudgy if you don't get a move on now." I opened the cell door, walking out. Behind me, I heard the Joker say loudly, "JERRY! How are you? I see you've got some fettuccine there! Very nice!" I walked out of Arkham, getting into the Batmobile and leaving quickly.
On my way back to Wayne Manor, I took off my mask, running my hand through my hair and sighing. I covered my mouth with the same hand, thinking about Dent. He was a tragic figure to me, a lost man like I was. I honestly didn't want what had happened to him. I wished there was another way he could've gone. "No use in wishing," I said to myself. When I reached the Batcave, Dick had his feet up on the computer desk, leaning back in a chair. "What're you doing here?" I asked. "Whenever you come back from a conversation with that guy, you seem emotionally conflicted," said Dick. "So you knew it was the Joker and you're wanting to see how I'm doing," I said, "Thanks, but I'm fine. Really." "You don't seem fine," said Dick, "That expression doesn't lie." I looked at my reflection in one of the glass screens in front of the suits. I was wearing a saddened and unsure expression. I sighed, saying, "It's Dent. The Joker says he'll be worse than ever before. He says he'll kill more than before." "The Joker's usually right," said Dick, "He may be crazy, but maybe listen to him now. The bottom line is, whether you like it or not, you're going to have to take down Harvey Dent." "The Joker called him Two-Face," I said. "That might be better," said Dick, "If you feel sorry for this guy, disconnecting him from his true identity might help." "That feels like cheating," I said. Dick shrugged, and I hung up the suit, wondering if I had the strength to take down someone like me.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I WILL NOT BE UPDATING KNIGHT OF GOTHAM NEXT WEEK, RATHER, I WILL UPDATE MAN OF TOMORROW, THE REASON BEING THAT I'LL LITERALLY BE ON A MOUNTAIN FOR MOST OF NEXT WEEK.
