A/N: Very special thanks to sweet-things101, Chronotempus, Lost Time Traveler, darkknightwriter, Zafrinel, Leyshla Gisel, Lucykins, casjowar, CeliaSingsSongs, Lady Ravanna, Firerosemon, SukiFictionist, AlyssaRuin, Meiran, Guest, Christineoftheopera, xChise, SwingingOnAStar, TheInsanityThatHidesWithin, susimuffin, EmilyEverlasting, dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE, blueboot, sharpestsatire, EbonyFriesian, Guest, twinbuster2, Diving in, Macel, AkariWolfPrincess, mysterygirl123, WhatsGoingOn, Guest, InTheShadowOfSignificance, Guest, CrazyPretty orPrettyCrazy heh, hulouhoop, anon, guest, weirdgirl312, crazykenz, chocolatxdoll, Sesflynn, Come to Darkside, Polarfrosch, and AnimeManga Lover 65 for your reviews.

I'm very sorry this update is so late. I had to travel over Christmas, which was wonderful but very exhausting, and then I had to go right back to work. DX But I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and the happiest of holidays! Enjoy this very late present. :D

Remnant

Chapter Ten

/

I paced the living room, back and forth, with the phone pressed to my ear and an eye on the TV. The evening news was going absolutely nuts; Mike Engel was taking calls from Gothamites reeling from the news, those praising Harvey Dent's unveiling and those calling for his arrest, and every 30 seconds - it seemed - they played the clip of Harvey standing up and making his declaration to the press. "I am the Batman."

Harvey, Harvey, Harvey Dent, was it true? Could it be true? My heart was pounding in my throat as I paced around, completely unsure what to do with myself. Harvey Dent was Batman...it was almost unbelievable, but at the same time, when you thought about it, it made perfect sense. By day, he reigned the city by doing good through his usual municipal duties, and at night he was delivering justice by taking down those who were either above the law or slithered beneath the filth of the city to avoid it. It was a wonder no one had put two and two together before, it made all sorts of sense.

And to think I'd been in the same room as him at Bruce Wayne's fundraiser...in the same room with the man who saved my life, and I didn't even know it.

"Gotham City Police Department," came a woman's voice with an authoritative tone in my ear, sharply replacing the elevator music that'd been playing as I was sitting on hold.

I tore my eyes from the TV to give her my full attention. "Hi, um, I'm calling because of...what happened this afternoon."

She snorted a little on the other end of the phone. "You and the rest of Gotham City."

I tried to look past her disinterest. "I was just wondering where Harvey Dent is-"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," she said sharply. "That information's classified."

"Yeah, no, I understand that..." I said, figuring they weren't just going to tell me cause I asked. "But I...I was in contact with Lieutenant Gordon before he died. I...I have some information that Harvey Dent will want if he...if he really is Batman."

"Ma'am," she said, as though trying to keep her temper. "We've been hearing the exact same thing from hundreds of Gotham citizens all day long; please just let us try to do our job-"

"This isn't just about Harvey," I said, getting frustrated. "I have information about the Joker."

The woman on the other line was quiet for a moment, as though processing my plea and trying to figure out whether or not it was genuine, or if it was just a hoax; no doubt they'd had plenty of those kinds of calls in the day since the airing of the press conference. "What kind of information do you have, ma'am?"

"It..." I didn't want to explain it over the phone to a complete stranger, she would think I was out of my mind. "It's a long story, Lieutenant Gordon knew all about it-"

"What was your name, ma'am?"

I paused, taken aback by her sudden change of attitude. "Uh, it's Jane Morland."

She paused for a moment, and I could just barely hear what sounded like a pen scratching away at a pad of paper. And then: "Please hold."

The elevator music returned, and I stood there listening, looking at the TV. Nothing new was developing, it was just repeats of the day's events. It was closing in on 8:00pm, and neither Amy nor Matt were home yet, but it was just as well. Who knew what Amy would say if she knew I was looking to speak to Harvey, that I was pacing back and forth like some lunatic on the phone with the police as though any of this had anything to do with me. For all I knew, she'd seen the press conference and was deliberately avoiding the apartment, just so she wouldn't have to hear about Harvey the Hero.

But it didn't really matter...I knew if I could tell Harvey everything about Jack, maybe they could find him and catch him. Maybe it would be enough to put an end to all this.

"Ms. Morland?" came the woman's voice again.

I started at the sharpness of her sudden voice, but recovered easily enough. "Yes, hi."

"Would you be able to come down to MCU?" she asked. "We'd like you to make a statement."

I gaped in surprise, unable to believe what I was hearing. Was she actually taking me seriously? I wanted to ask her why the change of heart, but suddenly even that seemed like it would be just sassy enough for her to tell me to forget it and hang up on me. "Of course," I said. "Yeah, I'll come down right away."

"Okay," she said. "Just give your name at the front desk, they'll bring you through."

I nodded. "Okay, I will. Thank you."

I hung up the phone, turned off the TV, and hurried to grab my coat and purse from where I'd left them on the couch. Henry wandered in to sit and watch me curiously as I wrestled my way into my coat and pulled my hair out from under the collar. I smiled down at him. "Pretty soon, your majesty," I said as I grabbed my keys. "This will all be over."

/

MCU was a much bigger building than I'd anticipated, located right in the heart of downtown Gotham, and as soon as I pulled up in a taxi, I saw that it was abustle of activity. no doubt the news of Harvey Dent's unveiling as Batman had the entire police force up in arms. I kept my arms tucked to my sides and tightly held the straps of my purse as I went inside, steering clear of every police officer in their uniforms, going this way and that as though each and every one of them was on a mission from God. I felt small and out of place, and had to swallow over a lump in my throat as I came inside and beheld a sea of people, officers and civilians alike. I approached the front desk as quickly as I could, to the officer sitting there typing something on the computer, who looked at me with bored eyes and an expression that said he'd seen enough bullshit to last him five lifetimes.

I didn't plan on wasting his time. "Hi, my name's Jane Morland," I told him. "I was told to come down and make a statement."

He didn't say a word; instead he turned to his computer, clicked a couple of times, and then started to type. "Morland," he said, completely disinterested. "M-O-R-L-A-N-D?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that's it."

I waited as he finished typing and made a few more clicks, and I looked away as I waited for him to tell me what to do. I noticed several officers eyeing me from where they stood far behind the counter, and I kept my eyes down, looking at the chipped nail polish on my fingernails, wondering what exactly was going to happen as soon as they took me back through the doors and further into the MCU.

Then, the officer picked up the phone sitting on the desk; he didn't have to dial more than three numbers and waited. "Jane Morland," he stated into the mouthpiece, and I watched him curiously, wondering what exactly he was doing. He listened and nodded, and then he set the phone down. I watched it all with a perturbed look.

"All right," he said at last, and then he stood up from his seat and beckoned me with the wave of his hand. "This way, please."

I followed behind him dutifully, keeping my mouth shut and my hands and eyes to myself; he opened the door for me to go into the back and I eased a tiny smile as I slipped through and waited for him to once again take the lead and show me where to go. The back was a labyrinth of hallways, it seemed, leading off to offices and boardrooms, record rooms, computer rooms, and everything else that a police headquarters had to offer. I couldn't help but take it all in, looking around at everything I could see, all the people zooming past wearing clothes for the evening shifts, carrying file folders and cups of coffee.

We made a turn and came to the end of a hall, where a single door sat with the nameplate HOLDING CELLS written across it. It made me frown, wondering why we were going to the holding cells, when the door opened...

And Lieutenant Gordon walked through.

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared, thinking perhaps that I was seeing things. I blinked in disbelief as he saw me immediately and came forward with a little smile. "Jane."

I shook my head and opened my lips to say something, but all I could do was stare at him. How...how was he here? He was dead, they told me he was dead, they'd announced on the news that he was dead...Jack had killed him at Loeb's funeral, I'd been there, I'd seen the look on the face of the cop as he told me what happened. How, how was this possible?

But he took a few steps towards me and suddenly it didn't matter, it didn't matter at all. Clutching the folds of my coat in my hands, I walked towards him. "Lieutenant Gordon," I breathed, and I could feel the smile break out across my face.

The accompanying officer that I'd given my name to suddenly turned and walked away, as though he was fairly positive there was nothing more for him to do. I didn't even turn to watch him go, and I didn't think to thank him. As soon as he was gone, I stared at Lieutenant Gordon and, whether on instinct or just because I was suddenly so happy to see him (or a mixture of the two) I held out my arms, silently begging for a hug.

It seemed he didn't need to be asked; he came forward and pulled me into his arms in one fell moment, and he hugged me just as tightly as I hugged him. I closed my eyes, trying to ward off the tears I knew were coming.

"It's so good to see you," he told me, his voice just above a whisper, and I could have laughed because he had no idea just how happy I was to see him in turn. "After the hospital and what happened at the hotel, I didn't know if you'd..."

He trailed out and I was glad he did. I squeezed him before he let me go and I looked up into his kindly face with his exhausted eyes, remembering how much he reminded me of my Dad, and how kind he had been to me when everything happened at The Palace. I swiped tears out from under my eyes as I smiled up at him.

"They told me you were dead," I said, swallowing back more tears. "It was all over the news, how is this possible?"

He stuck his hands on his hips and sighed, as though he'd been hearing it all day. "It was a necessary action." he said, and shook his head. "My wife wasn't happy about it, believe me."

I couldn't help but laugh; I didn't know his wife's temperament, but I knew if I was his wife and he'd led me to believe he was dead and then suddenly reappeared, alive and well, I might have divorced him.

"They told me you were on the phone and I couldn't believe it," he said with a little chuckle of disbelief. "Said you had some information."

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "I figured I'd see if I could get it to Harvey, cause I didn't think there was anyone else I could talk to about it."

A look of confusion crossed his features. "Harvey? Oh," and then his eyes lit up, as though he'd only forgotten that day that Harvey Dent had revealed himself to be the Batman. "Well Jane, you should probably know...Harvey Dent isn't actually Batman."

I frowned. "What do you mean? He told everyone in that press conference-"

"No no," he said, shifting from one foot to the other, as though the whole thing had been his idea. "The reason that he did it-"

Suddenly, the door behind him opened, and another officer stuck his head through. Both Gordon and I turned to look at him. "Commissioner, the mayor wants to talk to you before you go in to interrogation."

Gordon sighed and nodded. "Yeah, all right," he said, and took hold of the door before it closed when the officer disappeared behind it. He turned to me. "Jane, I've got to talk to the mayor just quick, but we'll talk after, okay? Here, come on in."

I followed behind him into a large room, but before I could take in anything around me, I could see Mayor Garcia standing by the far wall, where a door led into an open office. He waved at Gordon to join him, and I looked up at him as Gordon placed a hand on my shoulder. "Wait here," he said. "I'll just be a minute."

I nodded and watched him cross the room and go into the office with the Mayor and then they closed the door, and as I stood there I was dumbfounded by what Gordon had said about Harvey. So Harvey Dent wasn't Batman after all...he just lied about it to get himself arrested and blow up the news hour. Why? And why did Gordon say that faking his own death was a "necessary action?" It was all too much, too confusing; I looked around for a chair or a bench to sit down on, and I saw that indeed there were holding cells in that room.

And in the holding cell closest to me...

I felt the breath leave my body.

Jack.

It was Jack.

I couldn't hear anything in that moment, not the noise from the room all around me, or from the blood thrashing in my ears, of even the sound of my heart in my chest. I stared in disbelief at the Joker, sitting in the holding cell, rubbing his hands together between his legs as he leaned over. He was looking at me.

My first instinct was to go out the way I came and slam the door closed behind me and take off running through MCU until I was out in the fresh air and as far away as I could be from him. A voice inside my head told me to go directly to where I'd seen Gordon and Mayor Garcia disappear, slam my fists on the door and tell Gordon everything, right then and there, everything that had happened. But I couldn't move. I was absolutely frozen to the spot, standing there staring at him, taking in the particular disheveled state of his appearance.

When, when had hey found him? When had they arrested him?

How was it that he was there, right there, at that very moment, staring at me while I stared back at him?

I watched, half in horror, half in amazement, at the distance that I was at from him, as a lazy but very deliberate smile very slowly spread over his mangled, painted lips.

My fingers began to ache from clenching the folds of my coat together. Jack stared at me through those black pits, with that same little smile on his painted mouth, and he stopped rubbing his hands together. I swallowed thickly, and I took a quick glance around the room; a few officers were scattered about, but they were distracted by files and phone calls, this and that. None of them saw me, none of them saw me and would have told me to leave. Not even the other criminals locked in the holding cells seemed to see me, and even if they did, they didn't dare say a word.

I took steps towards him - careful, cautious steps - going towards the holding cells, and though I could hear something in the back of my mind scream at me what are you doing? Stay back! - my feet simply continued to move without my awareness, without consent, and I continued towards him at a slow but steady pace, and then I watched, half in horror and half in awe, as Jack stood up, fluidly, and sauntered towards the bars of the holding cell, his black eyes never leaving me. My mind and body had the sense to stop when I was within arms length of the bars and not an inch closer.

I stared up at him and watched as his long, toned arms slithered between the bars and hung there loosely, and he slumped forward a bit as though to level himself with me. He looked as though he was ready to settle in for a nice, long discussion.

"Hiya cupcake," he said, his voice low and almost flirtatious, and I fought to keep from curling my nose at him, suddenly despising the nickname more than I can say, and as he rose his chin a little, to show me his Chelsea smile, I couldn't help but want to smack it right off his face. He pointed to his mouth lazily with one finger. "And you said red wasn't my colour."

I looked him over briefly; I'd never had a chance to fully take in his appearance as the Joker at any other time. When he was behind bars seemed as good a time as any. The suit was ridiculous, but it was so obviously custom-tailored to his frame, his height, to fit him perfectly. And even though the makeup was sloppy and slowly melting off him, I could see through it to the cheekbones, the strong chin, the face of a man who once had beauty.

Everything about him in this form, the Joker, was eternally grotesque.

"How did you get here?" I asked.

I watched Jack run his tongue along the inside of his scars before shrugging. "How else?" he said, and then raised his eyebrows, as though he was impressed. "The Bat-man," and he looked to where Gordon and Mayor Garcia had disappeared, and he raised a single finger to point at them. "And the Co-mission-er, thinking outside the box for once."

I looked towards the door, as though Gordon was standing there listening to our entire conversation, and I nodded as though to commend him. "At last."

When I looked back at Jack, he was staring me down, smacking his lips, and for a moment a sly little smile crept over his mouth. "You're looking well, cupcake," he said, his voice low and sultry, like a snake. "Saw you sipping champagne with the big wigs. You know you're moving up in the world when you go to a party at Bruce Wayne's house," he wiggled his finger at me. "Looking the way you did."

I felt a tremor go up my spine; I knew he was saying it to unnerve me and I hated it. "Stop it, Jack."

He did; the sly little smile was gone and his face took on an expression of complete seriousness, like he was a little kid scolded by a beloved big sister. I knew then, just by the look of him, by the concentrated glint in his eyes on me, that he was listening.

Sucking in a deep breath, I shook my head. "Why did you do it?"

Jack scowled, the same scowl he would get back at the hotel when I asked him questions. He raised up both hands as if to say what? "You're gonna have to be a bit more specific," he said, the tone in his voice becoming high and light once more. "The bank, the party-"

"All of it," I said, interrupting him, my voice getting away on me. "Everything. The goon and the hooker, the men in the alley..." I swallowed tightly. "Polly..."

Jack swiped at his scars with his tongue and looked off to the side for a moment, as though he was trying to remember. "Which one was she?"

My hands curled into fists at my sides; were we in another spot and I was a different person, I would have punched him. "At the hotel, Jack!"

He lowered his chin a little to narrow his eyes to me. "Ah yes, the hotel..." he said, his voice low again, and then he smiled. "And here we are, together again."

I tried to look past the implication in his voice. Instead I stared at him dead on, feeling the tears pinching behind my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall. I was too angry and I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was upsetting me. "Why did you kill her? What did she ever do to you?"

Jack stared at me dead on, never blinking once. "She came into my room-"

I couldn't help the exasperated sound that escaped my throat. "It was the hotel's room!"

Jack stood up straight, and even with the bars between us he towered over me, and I knew he was doing it for exactly that reason. "It was my room, cupcake!"

I took an instinctive step back away from him; the sudden snarl in his voice made me think that at any second he was going to reach through the bars and try and grab me. I stared up into the blackness of his eyes and I was completely unaware of everything else around me except him and his sudden anger.

But only a moment went by before the anger in his eyes seemed to alleviate a little. As the air quieted between us, he gave me a rather pensive look with the slightest tilt of his head. "But that's not what you wanna ask, is it?"

For a moment, a smile threatened to spread across my lips; the man was far more intelligent than anyone who simply labeled him a psycho-killer clown. He could read me so clearly. I took a quick look around to make sure there wasn't anyone standing nearby, and when I saw that there wasn't, I took a step towards the bars, going closer to him, so that the words exchanged would be between us and only between us. I swallowed as I looked at his toned arms, and his big hands smudged with greasepaint. I took in a breath and looked up at him, straight into his eyes.

"You had so many chances," I said, keeping my voice low. "Everyday at the hotel, the alleyway, the party, Loeb's funeral...why, Jack?" I asked, my voice starting to shake. "Why wasn't it me?"

He stared at me hard for a moment, and something in his eyes twinkled, and I could see that he was almost smiling, or perhaps wanted to smile but decided at the last minute to keep it at bay. The look told me that I already knew the answer to my question, that asking something so obvious was such a waste of both his and my time. But I knew he wouldn't fail to indulge me.

"It keeps you up at night, doesn't it?" He asked, his voice low and direct. "Why didn't he just do it? After everything he did, everything he's done, why didn't he just finish the job?"

I stared at him, frowning. There was something about the tone in his voice that nagged me in the back of my head.

He shifted so that he was level with me once more, and his arms hung there lazily on the bars. He smacked his scars once and watched me. "Maybe..." he said, raising a finger to me. "Maybe he did come close."

I blinked at him, suddenly unable to believe what I was hearing.

"He came close enough he could smell you," Jack said in all deathly seriousness. "Could smell your last breath and the blood leaving your body. He looked at his hands," and Jack held up his hands and stared down at them. "and knew what his hands had done and he thought maybe, just maybe..." he looked at me. "He could finish everything."

All I could do was gape at him.

Then, Jack held out his hands. "But of course there was a part of him that didn't. A part of him that couldn't have, not in a million years. A part of him that couldn't let you go-"

"Jack..." I whispered, wanting to tell him to stop.

"So he found someone." Jack interrupted, not letting me get a word in until he had his say, and his eyes were hard and pointed on me. "Someone who would find you when you needed him to. Someone who would get you outta dodge, while he slinked away into the gutter, hiding under the filth while allowing you to come back to the surface."

A single, hot tear rolled down over the apple of my cheek, and I didn't think to wipe it away. I couldn't do anything; I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think...all I could do was stare at him while he ripped my heart into shreds. The look in his eyes...it was so telling, he meant each and every word, he meant for me to hear it all. Every. Single. Word.

And his expression told me he was sincere, though I wouldn't have thought at any time that he wasn't. There was a softness in his eyes so reminiscent of the man I had known from the hotel, the man I had once come close to calling something like a friend...a man who loved cooking shows and wore clothes three sizes too big for him. A man who ate Thai food and enjoyed sleeping under mounds of clothing.

But it was also the man who punched the mirror, the man who killed the Falcone goon and hooker and tsked when I went in to remove the evidence. The man who tried to strangle me...the man who single-handedly put Gotham into a constant state of real, hard fear.

And it was that man who shrugged, and everything about him that I once knew was gone and the Joker returned. "But if it's bothering you that much, we can change everything."

My heart leapt up into my throat; I wanted to shake my head and tell him no, but I couldn't. I was frozen.

"They can't keep me here for long," he said, lowering his chin so that his black eyes narrowed to me. When he spoke I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face, and I could smell the last traces of the greasepaint over his own scent. "Does life have order again, gumdrop?" he asked, his tone becoming dangerously telling. "I can make it go back to the way things were-"

"Jane."

I was startled out of Jack's hypnosis at the sound of a voice sharply calling my name. I blinked several times and looked over, seeing Gordon standing there at the door to the office where he had gone with Mayor Garcia. He stared at me with an expression between confusion and anger, and I swallowed tightly despite myself.

"Co-mission-er wants ya," Jack said in my ear.

I sighed, knowing that I'd have a lot of explaining to do, and none of it was going to be particularly pretty. I looked over at Jack, into his chocolate eyes and the playings of a smile on his lips. I was suddenly overcome with gratitude that he was behind bars, that the Gotham police would do everything in their power to make sure he never saw the light of day again, not after everything he had done to Gotham. But part of me realized that this was likely the last time we would meet, the last time we would speak, and I don't know why, but I felt a twinge of disappointment, perhaps remorse.

But I shook it away. "Goodbye Jack," I said to him, for him.

Jack smiled just a little, lifted his hand, and wiggled his fingers at me. "See you soon."

I would have told him no, he wouldn't. But I didn't.

I turned my back on him and went to Gordon, who was standing at the doorway of the office with his arms crossed over his chest. I followed his lead and went into the little office, my heart pummeling against my chest, getting ready for the onslaught. Behind me, the door closed, and I turned around to see Commissioner Gordon taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I can explain," I said quietly.

"Please do, Jane," he said, his voice unusually curt, and he replaced his glasses on his nose and looked at me expectedly.

I swallowed and was about to go into the entire onslaught, tell him absolutely everything, but the very moment that Jack appeared at the Palace to the moment between us that Gordon had seen only a minute ago.

But before I could say a word, there was a knock on the door behind Gordon. He sighed heavily and opened the door to an officer, who stood there looking somewhat dumbfounded. "What is it?" Gordon asked.

"Sorry to interrupt, commissioner," the cop said, looking between us confusedly. "But he's here."

Gordon stood there and stared at him for a second as though he wasn't sure who the officer was talking about, but then he nodded. "All right," he said, and he looked over at me. "Jane, this officer will take you home. We'll have to talk another time."

For a moment I was so relieved that I could have passed out on the floor, but at the same time I knew that I'd have to go home and wait, dreading each phone call that came through because at some point it was going to be the very unimpressed commissioner of the police wanting to have a long talk. I nodded. "Okay."

Gordon didn't offer a goodbye of any kind or description; instead he sidestepped the officer in the doorway and charged away from the office, and I felt terrible. I knew that once I had a chance to explain everything to him, he'd understand that I wanted to tell him everything, that I tried to give him all the information that I knew...but he wasn't a stupid man. He likely remembered everything about the Palace. Whether he figured it out or not, I wasn't sure, but I wouldn't put it past him. I'd have to explain why I lied to him. I'd have to explain why I once protected the man who would go on to become the Joker.

I was so suddenly filled with complete dread that I couldn't do anything but muster up the very smallest smile for the officer who was standing there, waiting for me, with a sympathetic smile.

I hugged my arms to my body as he held the door open for me and led me out towards the door where we'd come in, back into the belly of the MCU. I wanted nothing more than to jump in the shower, fall into bed, and sleep for a week straight.

I looked over to the holding cell to see if Jack was seeing me out, like I knew he would.

But he was gone.

/