BATMAN: SHIVER
Chapter IV
"Hearts and Minds"
Jervis Tetch's one-bedroom apartment was cluttered, like most homes owned by single men. Various fast food containers lay strewn around; the kitchen, hardly used; the couch, poised before the wide-screen TV, looked more slept-in than the bed; and the bedroom itself looked like a fight had broken out in it.
The silence hanging in the apartment was broken when the door came crashing in. Lt. Harvey Bullock followed. He immediately saw the Batman standing in the darkness of the bedroom.
"Wait outside," he told the officers accompanying him. "I thought you were going to the girl's place?" he said to Batman.
"I've been," the Dark Knight replied. "The door was open and there were signs of a struggle, but Tetch and Ms. Lytton are long gone."
Bullock removed his hat and rubbed a hand through his unruly hair. "I still can't get my head over this… Mind control? Is this real?"
Batman ignored the question. "Where's Gordon?"
"He, uh, he took Earle back to HQ. Turns out he wants to confess everything. Go figure."
"Never underestimate the people of Gotham City," said Batman, still looking over the room. "There's good in them yet."
"Bats… if this really is mind control… Should we be dealing with this on our own? I mean, shouldn't we call the government, or NASA, or somebody? Hell, Mulder and Scully would do! We're out of our league!"
"We take care of our own in Gotham, Lieutenant," said Batman. "Besides, there's no time. Tetch has almost literally lost his mind; there's no telling what he could do. Now, put aside your confusion and doubt, treat this like any other crime scene, and help me look for clues as to Tetch's whereabouts."
Bullock nodded. "Right, right… Did you really think he'd come back here anyway?"
"He's not thinking straight. He was infatuated with Alice Lytton, a co-worker. Right now, she's the only thing he can think about clearly." Batman pointed to a haphazardly spread rug on the floor. "He has been here – when he activated the mental amplifier, he would have experienced convulsions. This rug and other items have been disturbed in a manner consistent with such a fit."
"How d'you…" Bullock stopped himself. The Commissioner had told him it was pointless to question the Batman's knowledge or sources. He was just always right.
"But for some reason," continued Batman, "he didn't return here with her. To his home. There must be somewhere else more valued, more important, in his mind."
Bullock was already casting a glance over the living room. "Y'know, Bats, I see guys like this all the time. Young, single, real smart… but no social life, no friends. Guys like that, they love their work. Maybe he took her to…" He turned, but Batman had already departed.
Jasper Dolan was no stranger to late-night phone calls. As GCPD's coroner he was usually the first one called when a victim of 'cruel and unusual' crimes came in, and those were the kind of crimes that happened in Gotham almost every night.
He yawned and stretched his near-sixty-year-old body into an awakened state as he strolled casually into the police morgue. He was greeted by a seven-foot-long metallic corpse, frozen like a slab of butcher's meat. He could hear the steel gurney creaking under the weight.
"What have we hear?" he asked as if it was something he saw every day.
"Victor Fries," said the young patrolman standing by the body. "This one's a long story, Doc."
"Ah yes," said Dolan, reading off the file that came with the body. "The man from the news. Well, I imagine I'll have to get him out of that odd suit first." He snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and started searching for a means to undo the cryo-suit.
"Ah!" Dolan recoiled from the touch. "He's freezing cold."
"No kiddin'," said the patrolman. "He was frozen in some special fluid. It's all in the chart. You need a hand?"
"No, no," said Dolan. He went back to searching the body. "I just can't see any sort of catch or release mechanism…"
In a blur of motion, the corpse's hand reached up to grab Dolan by the neck. Victor Fries opened his eyes.
"Let him go!" shouted the patrolman, pointing his firearm at the frozen zombie.
Fries pulled himself into a sitting position and the patrolman opened fire. In annoyance, Fries grabbed the metal instrument tray by the bed and hurled it towards the young officer, knocking him unconscious.
"Did they really think," said Fries to Dolan, who gasped for air, "that my solution – which I created to preserve life – would kill me!?" His voice was quieter and more laboured than usual. "There is nothing keeping me alive now but my thirst for vengeance!"
Fries, still holding Dolan at arms length, got up off the bed with difficulty. The cryonic solution had badly damaged his suit, and the gunfire (which had no doubt attracted attention) had left marks in his formerly invulnerable armour. He knew he couldn't have much time left.
"Where is Earle!?"
"Mister Earle," said Gordon, sitting across from Earle in the dingy interrogation room, "your lawyer is on his way. I'd advise you not to say anything until you've spoken with him."
Earle nodded without looking up.
"To be honest," said Gordon, "I'm not even sure of the legal implications myself. I don't even know if there's a crime here. It was an accident, and all persons concerned are deceased…"
"I should still answer for my actions," said Earle, still not looking up from the dirty table.
"But why, Earle," asked Gordon. He leaned across the table, eager for an answer. "You've got so much to lose, over something so small. Why?"
Earle looked up and into the Commissioner's eyes. "Because Harvey Dent showed us that justice – that honour – still exists in Gotham City. He died for that ideal… Who am I to corrupt it?"
Gordon leaned back in his chair. For the first time since that night months ago when he and the Batman had forged their own truth over Harvey Dent's broken body, Gordon truly felt that it was worth living the lie.
This revolutionary moment was interrupted by a young detective barging in. "Commissioner!" he yelled. "It's Fries! He's still alive and he's coming up here!"
"Oh my God," screamed Earle, backing into the corner. "Will it never be done!?"
"Stay down," commanded Gordon of Earle. He produced his own gun and told the detective and the officer who had been guarding the room, "You two, watch the door!"
"It's no good, sir," said the detective. "He's throwing our men aside like they were made of paper. He's definitely slower, but–"
The door was thrown off its hinges and into the guarding officer. One down. The detective and Gordon unleashed fire on Fries who stormed into the room with hellish purpose. His heavy fist collided with the detective's head. Two down.
Fries lumbered towards Gordon, picking up a chair and hurling it towards the Commissioner. Gordon ducked and picked up the chair himself. Bullets, although previous ineffective against Fries, now made dents in his cryo-suit, but they weren't enough. Gordon brought the chair down on Fries' glass helmet. In its weakened state it cracked, but not by much.
"Earle, run!" Gordon yelled.
Fries threw the Commissioner to the ground. Three down. Earle hadn't even tried to move. Fries picked up the table and jammed it into the doorway to insure he would not be interrupted.
"I… I don't… have much time… left…" Fries huffed, making his way slowly over to Earle. "But you… have… even less…" He grabbed Earle by the neck and pulled him up the wall. Earle began to gasp and sputter, his eyes bulging and his face turning red as Fries tightened his grip.
Fries' face, white as snow and bisected by the diagonal crack down his frosted dome, was without emotion, as normal, but his eyes – like twin fishing holes made in a frozen lake – were alive with fury unrivalled.
"Can… you… feel it, Earle? The life being… choked… out of you! Your… last moments… disappearing! Something… Something my… beloved Nora… was denied… No more… schemes or… deadlines, Earle… You die like she died… Without warning… And then… at last… I can be…"
There was a deafening bang, and the front of Fries' dome suddenly became red and a bullet-hole appeared in the wall next to Earle's head. The iceman's grip loosened around Earle's neck and his titanic body fell backwards onto the hard floor, shattering his glass dome and revealing a hole in Victor's forehead.
At the other end of the room, directly behind where Fries had been, Jim Gordon knelt with a smoking gun in his hand.
Gordon let out a breath and stood, walking over to help Earle up. "It's over this time, Mr. Earle," he said. "It's done."
Earle slowly rose, still fixated on Fries' unmoving form. There was a tear, frozen solid on Victor's cheek, that Earle was sure hadn't been there before.
Batman had entered Wayne Enterprises through a rear door and went straight to Jervis Tetch's lab. He had found it disappointingly empty. He now silently made his way toward the front entrance, to the main security checkpoint. From there, he could monitor the entire building and determine if Tetch was indeed at his workplace, as Bullock had deduced.
Dropping soundlessly from a ceiling vent, he found the foyer alarmingly vacant. He had expected to have to incapacitate several security guards.
"Thank God you're here," a voice hissed. It was Lucius Fox, rising from behind the security monitors.
"What happened?" Batman asked. "Where's Tetch? Where are the guards?"
"Tetch came through here with that secretary, but he was like you said; delusional. I told security to stop him and… he…"
"Fox?"
Lucius was clearly shaken. "He… made them shoot each other… My God, it was horrible… He's insane. The device has totally destroyed his mind."
"Where is he now?" asked Batman.
"I put the bodies away… Didn't seem right to leave them out… Then I thought about calling the police, but there's nothing they could do, he's too powerful. So I've been watching him. Waiting for you.
"He kept two guards alive and had them bring him various items from the kitchens. He's in the main conference room. He took out the cameras, but that'll be where he is. With the girl and maybe the two guards if he hasn't killed them too."
Batman nodded his thanks and made for the elevator. "The police are on their way. When they get here, explain the situation to a Lieutenant Bullock. He'll know what to do."
Not willing to wait on the elevator car, Batman punched through the ceiling hatch and fired his grapple straight up the lift shaft.
Upon reaching the desired floor, he steeled himself for the difficult encounter. It was somewhat beneficial that Tetch had come to Wayne Tower. It meant Batman was on familiar terrain. A small bonus, but it counted nonetheless.
Prying open the elevator doors, he made his way to the conference room. He could hear the clatter of cutlery, Alice faintly sobbing, and Tetch's high-pitched voice.
"Make a remark!" he was shouting. "It's ridiculous to leave all the conversation to the pudding."
"Jervis, please," Alice said. "I don't understand… Please, just let me go…"
Batman opened the doors just a crack to see in. He couldn't risk going in blind – with Tetch's device, he needed all the advantages he could get.
What he saw could have come straight out of a story book.
Alice sat at the head of the long table, at the end furthest from the door. Tetch was at her right and the two security guards sat on her left, blank faced and obviously under Tetch's control. Yet Alice was strangely free. There were various items of culinary paraphernalia cluttering the table: teapots, tea cups, mugs, cakes, and other such things.
Tetch regarded Alice quizzically and asked "Why is a raven like a writing desk?"
"I don't know," Alice sobbed. "I just wanna go home…"
Tetch pulled a large carving knife out of a cake and brandished it wildly. "Why is a raven like a writing desk!?" he bellowed.
Batman realised he had to make his move now. Tetch was becoming too violent. He couldn't risk attacking directly – Tetch held that knife far too close to Alice – so he had to be less subtle than he would've liked.
He kicked the doors open and shouted "Tetch! Drop the knife and let the girl go!"
Tetch, with the knife poised at Alice's throat, observed Batman for a moment, seemingly in awe. Then he shrieked "No room! No room!" He turned to the guards. "March Hare! Dormouse! Dispense with the unwanted guest!"
The guards rose and ran towards Batman. He couldn't risk hurting them, but he had little choice. The first he easily tackled over his shoulder, but the second produced a gun. Batman quickly knocked it out of his hand with a timely batarang. The first guard had come to his senses and grabbed Batman by the neck from behind. Batman flipped him over his head and he collided with the second guard, both of them now out cold.
As Batman reached for another batarang to incapacitate Tetch, he found himself once again frozen.
"The Jabberwock!" said Tetch, fixing him with an intense stare. "As large as life and twice as natural!"
"Tetch…" said Batman. "You're not well… They can help you…"
"On your knees!" said Tetch and Batman obeyed, despite his strong will against it. He needed something to distract Tetch and his hold over him.
"Jervis," Alice said, tears running down her cheeks. "Please, I don't want this, I just want–"
"Quiet!" shouted Tetch and Alice immediately stopped talking. He was dividing his control, thus weakening it.
Batman could already feel his fingers obeying his own commands, independent of Tetch. But he needed more self-control.
"You… You didn't want to control her, did you, Tetch?" said Batman. "You wanted her to be with you willingly…"
"Silence!" yelled Tetch, but Batman kept talking thanks to a mixture of Tetch's diluted control and his own overpowering will.
"But now… Now that you've realised she doesn't want you… not in the same way you want her… you're content to control her… Like some sick little puppet!"
"Quiet!" Tetch screamed, clutching the sides of his head. "Quiet! Quiet! Quiet! Quiet! QUIET!" He picked up the carving knife again and held it at Batman's throat. "OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"
More control was returning to Batman. He could now move his entire right hand. "You never loved her, Jervis. It was always just obsession. You don't care about her at all – you just want to own her like she was a toy! A mindless doll for your own perverted amusement!"
"NO!" Tetch yelled, his eyes maniacally wide.
"Last chance, Tetch," said Batman. His hand reached into a pocket in his utility belt and produced a flashbang which he concealed in his palm. "Let us go and turn yourself in… or I will bring you down myself."
Tetch, his breathing heavy with madness, simply drew back his arm and prepared to bring the blade down on Batman's neck.
Batman closed his eyes and crushed the flashbang in his fist. The resulting flare of light and sound caused Tetch to drop the knife and instinctively put his hands up in front of his face. It also broke his concentration.
The Dark Knight did not waste the opportunity. He took down Tetch with a well-placed punch. His cardboard hat flew off as he hit the floor and revealed the metallic band of the neural amplifier, firmly fixed upon Jervis's head.
Lt. Bullock ran in as Batman was making sure to safely remove the device. Alice, also free of Tetch's control, sat shivering in her chair. Bullock wrapped his coat around her.
"'S'alright," said Bullock. "I'm a cop. You're safe now."
"He was… in my head…" Alice whispered. "He could've made me do… anything…" She started to cry into Bullock's shoulder.
Batman stood, holding the amplifier carefully. "Hey, Bats," said Bullock, "y'know, in the right hands, that thing could really–"
Batman crushed the device in his grip. "There is no such thing as 'the right hands', Lieutenant. Trust me."
"Yeah," said Bullock. "You're probably right." He nodded towards Tetch. "What about him? Is he… fixed now?"
Batman looked down at Jervis Tetch's unconscious body. "The damage that was done to his mind is most likely permanent, but he's no longer a threat without his device. He belongs in Arkham."
Tetch began to stir. "Twinkle, twinkle, little bat…" he muttered to himself. "How I wonder what you're at…"
Alfred, still nursing a bump on the head from last night, made his way towards his master's bedroom with his breakfast. Bruce was already awake and standing at the window. The memory of Bruce standing in the same position just after his parents' funeral staggered Alfred momentarily.
"Breakfast, sir," he said calmly. Bruce did not turn. "Mr. Fries and that other madman have been taken care of, sir. What could still be troubling you?"
"What if this is just the beginning?" Bruce said.
"Beginning of what, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked as he laid down the breakfast tray.
"Weapons that can freeze someone to death in the blink of an eye, men strong enough to rip metal in two… mind control, Alfred."
"This was just a case of bad luck, sir," said Alfred. "Fries coming back at the same time Mr. Tetch developed his device… It's unlikely to occur again."
"We've already seen men like the Joker, who are willing to adapt their methods around Batman, why not their means as well? At WayneTech, I've seen technology you wouldn't believe, and if we can do it others can to. It's only a matter of time before there are more criminals out there with weapons and devices that I can't defeat."
Alfred went over and stood beside Bruce at the window. "We knew, right from the start, that what you set out to do would not be easy. We knew that as Batman pushed against the underworld, they would push back harder. You're swimming against the tide, sir, but does that mean you should just give up?"
Bruce turned to look at Alfred for the answer.
"No," said Alfred. "It just means you swim even harder."
"But that's what I'm saying, Alfred… Will it ever stop?"
"A great man recently said that the night is darkest just before the dawn… Even at the end, I think he truly believed that."
Leaving his words to sink in; Alfred turned but stopped just as a last thought popped in his head. "Besides, Master Bruce, if you quit I might have a bloody thing or two to say about it."
Just as Alfred reached the door, Bruce spoke up again. "Alfred… That Nietzsche quote… The one you recited in the Cave…"
Alfred dug through his memory for a moment. "There is always some madness in love."
"That's not the whole quote," said Bruce. "He also said that there is also some reason in madness."
"You think that Mr. Tetch can still be reasoned with, sir? Can still be helped?"
Bruce smirked mirthlessly. "What kind of man is it that prays his enemies will get stronger?"
"The best kind, Master Bruce... The best kind..."
Jim Gordon stood alone on the roof of Police Headquarters before the wrecked Bat-signal. The shattered glass had been cleared away, but a replacement cover had yet to be fitted for the large searchlight. Without it, contacting Batman was much more difficult, but not impossible. As evidenced by their arranged meeting tonight.
"Do you remember what we talked about," said a deep and familiar voice behind Gordon, "the first time we met on this rooftop?"
Gordon slowly turned to see the Batman standing there plain as night. "Escalation," replied Gordon, knowing where his grim associate was heading. It was something he too had wondered on.
"Fries' weapon, Tetch's neural amplifier… Could just be the beginning…" said Batman woefully.
"If that's the case…" said Gordon. "If crime makes that step into the unknown… People may begin to see the need for you again. We certainly won't be up to the challenge. Will you?"
Batman paused for a moment. "I can only do what I have always done – my best."
"That's all I've ever needed," said Gordon.
"It may not be enough."
Gordon looked down. "You know what Bill Earle said when I asked him why he was turning himself in?" He looked up at the Batman. "He said it was because of Harvey Dent.
"Just because you don't always see the outcome of your actions or the impact of your presence doesn't mean you aren't doing something right. It may be the crooks and the psychos who come out on top at the end of the day, but in the long-run... it's men like you who are victorious."
The two men stood silently and their mutual respect could almost be seen manifesting in the cool air. Then Batman spoke.
"What will happen to Earle?"
"He's being investigated and tried for the accidental death of Nora Fries," said Gordon. "He's also paying for Victor Fries' burial personally, and those of Martin Cale and Robert O'Dowd."
"What about you?" said Batman.
"Me?"
"You shot Fries. Was it hard?"
Gordon sighed. "I'm a cop. It's what I was trained to do… But, no, that never makes it any easier… Been a long time since I used my gun like that… Not long enough…"
"We both do what we have to," said Batman.
"What d'you make of Bullock?" asked Gordon, changing the subject.
"He's brash and unruly… But essentially a good man."
"Glad you approve," said Gordon, "because as head of the MCU, he'll be in charge of hunting you down. I've precious few allies in this department. Too many of my officers are asking questions about the operation to bring you in."
"Branden?"
Gordon nodded. "He's the worst of it. For now. But it's nothing I can't handle…"
"For now." Batman let those words hang for a moment before asking "And Tetch?"
"Murder and kidnapping charges. Mr. Fox over at Wayne Enterprises turned over all information he had on this 'mind-hat'. Should hold up in the courts, plus the testimony from him, Ms. Lytton and the two guards, as well as Bruce Wayne himself who was attacked too apparently."
"Hm," grunted Batman. "Tetch will be sent to Arkham?"
Gordon nodded again. "They've already diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic with obsessive compulsive disorder… He's highly delusional as well; totally regressed into this 'Mad Hatter' persona…"
"The device fractured his mind," said Batman. "In his mental anguish, he latched onto a positive childhood memory and submerged himself within it. As a form of psychological protection."
"You're in the wrong line of work," Gordon joked. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Bullock.
"Gordon," he said into the phone. "No, I'm on the roof, Lieutenant. Just… getting some air…" He listened for a moment. "Uh-huh… I'll be right down. Get Branden over there, but tell him not to blow anything up without my permission." He hung up and to his surprise; Batman had not chosen to vanish. "There's a–"
"Hostage situation at the Goyer Centre," said Batman with his usual prescience. "Three disgruntled ex-marines with shotguns. Shouldn't be difficult." He was already heading for the ledge.
"Wait," said Gordon. "What about Tetch? You think he's treatable?"
Batman paused on the edge of the roof. "The neurological damage the device caused may be irreversible. Even if it isn't; Tetch was shallow, petty and amoral to begin with – his obsession with Ms. Lytton and willingness to aid a known murderer like Fries proves that. He may not want to come back to reality. He might be happy with his fantasy world. His Wonderland…"
"But is he still dangerous?" asked Gordon.
"He is a genius, but lacks any technical skill. With his neural amplifier destroyed, he's harmless. We have no more to fear from Jervis Tetch, Commissioner."
Batman dropped off the roof and into the dark night.
"Welcome to Arkham Asylum, Mister Tetch. I'm Doctor Burton and I'm the Chief Psychiatrist here." Dr. Burton smiled widely as he greeted the Asylum's newest inmate.
"Where's my hat!?" snapped Tetch, writhing uncomfortably in his orange jumpsuit.
The guards led Jervis down a long corridor lined with doors as Dr. Burton continued his spiel.
"If you are well behaved and obey all our rules here at Arkham, we might let you have personal affects, such as hats, Jervis," said Dr. Burton. "May I call you Jervis?"
"I'm the Hatter!" Tetch insisted.
"Of course you are," said Dr. Burton. "We'll be seeing a lot of each other over the next few months. Everyone here is your friend, Jervis. We're trying to make you better."
"I'm the Hatter!" Tetch said again.
They passed a door marked 'Crane, J.' and a thin, pale man with tousled black hair was leaning against the window.
"You don't have to be crazy to be incarcerated here," said the man, "but it helps…" His voice had no trace of humour in it whatsoever.
"Settle down, Crane," said one of the guards, rapping the window with his nightstick.
"Not all of our patients are… exemplary, I'm afraid," said Dr. Burton. He rolled his eyes as they passed the next door. "Case in point…"
This door was labelled 'Doe, J.' and a much more cheerful, albeit scarred, face pressed against the glass.
"I'm only here so long as it's funny, y'know," said the scarred face. "And the joke's starting to get old…" As if his scars didn't already resemble a grin, he smiled wide and laughed a haunting laugh that echoed down the halls. The guards didn't even bother trying to silence him; they knew it was pointless.
"Ah," said Dr. Burton as they reached their destination. "This'll be your room, Jervis…"
"I'm the Hatter! The Hatter!" Jervis shouted. "I have said it thrice! What I tell you three times is true!"
Dr. Burton simply sighed. "Yes, yes, very good. I'm afraid due to recent… increases in our population; you shall be sharing a room. Don't worry… He's harmless…"
The guards deposited Tetch in his new home and locked the door behind him. Jervis simply stared out the window, only vaguely aware of the other man sitting behind him.
"Hello," said his cellmate, his voice small and gentle. "What's your name?"
"Hatter," said Jervis.
"Hello, Mister Hatter," said the man. "My name's Edgar."
"It's a stupid name enough," said Jervis. "What does it mean?"
"Oh, um… I'm not sure," said Edgar. There was a tense few moments of silence before Edgar asked "What happened to you, Mister Hatter?"
"I could tell you my adventures, beginning from this morning," said Tetch, "but it's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then…
"Alice…" he whispered to himself, stroking the glass pane in front of him. "I'll never see her again… No! She wasn't Alice! Not the right one, anywise… I need to find the real Alice! Younger, prettier… Yes…
"But I'll need my magic hat. My beautiful, marvellous hat! It makes things shiny and clear!"
"What happened to your magic hat, Mr. Hatter?" asked Edgar.
"It was broken," said Jervis. "Broken by a great black bat… The Jabberwocky…"
"Oh," said Edgar with cheer in his voice again. "If it's broken, I can fix it! I'm good at fixing things, I am!"
Tetch turned to look at his cellmate for the first time. He saw a huge, rotund man who barely fit upon the bed he sat on, his face filled with a childlike smile.
"Curiouser," said Jervis, "and curiouser…"
I charm in vain; for never again,
All keenly as my glance I bend,
Will Memory, goddess coy,
Embody for my joy,
Departed days, nor let me gaze
On thee, my fairy friend!
--"To My Child-Friend", Lewis Carroll (1886)
Special thanks to: Bob Kane, Bill Finger, Christopher and Jonathan Nolan, David S. Goyer, Bruce Timm and Paul Dini.
Reviews, both positive and negative, are always welcome. If you enjoyed this; be advised that I am considering a follow-up, but for the moment I'm working on a Justice League story for the "Comics" section. Thanks for reading.