"Doctor Flint?"
Flint looked up at the window to his office see Batman standing there. "Oh, it's you," he said, standing up. "The great hero of Gotham City. To what do I owe the honor?"
"I've recently been informed of your methods of treating the lunatics contained in this facility," said Batman. "I understand they're…unorthodox, to say the least."
"If it's orthodox to talk gently to them and pamper them and try to understand them, then yes, my methods are unorthodox," agreed Dr. Flint, nodding. "They would have been effective, however, if the security in this facility could be improved. The Mayor informed me it was a consistent problem, and has promised me that he'll look into it. Though I doubt that's much consolation to the families of the guards and doctors they murdered during their escape."
"No, it's difficult to forgive in grief," agreed Batman, nodding. "Believe me, I understand. I was sorry to hear about the death of your wife. But what will vengeance solve?"
Dr. Flint smiled grimly. "If I subjected the lunatics to pain merely for the sake of revenge, that would make me a poor man, and a poor doctor. I do not do it to avenge myself upon them. I do it to prevent others having to suffer loss as I have suffered, to prevent the monsters from destroying the lives of other people. I am trying to break their violent impulses by any methods necessary. If that includes breaking their spirits as well, it is a price I am willing to pay. If the only way to stop a maniac like the Joker is to destroy him, I will destroy him."
"I will not," retorted Batman. "I will never do that. I don't have the right…"
"Right?" interrupted Dr. Flint angrily. "Did he have the right to take my wife away from me? Do any of them have the right to slaughter and kill indiscriminately? I understand and appreciate what you're trying to do, Batman, truly. But in order to create the world you want to live in, one of peace and safety, we must have the stomach to do things you may not consider to be right. Great goodness cannot be achieved without great sacrifice. I'm sure you understand that."
"But there are some things we should never sacrifice," murmured Batman. "Things that separate us from them. Mercy, compassion, humanity, decency…"
"Words," muttered Dr. Flint. "Empty words, and of little comfort, no matter how many times you repeat them. Well, perhaps they are a comfort to you, but they are not to me. I cannot look at a fiend like the Joker, sitting in his cell, smiling and laughing, probably at all the people he's killed, and think to myself 'Well, he may be a murdering monster, but at least I'm the decent one. He may be happy and carefree, but at least I have compassion.' What sort of decent and compassionate man lets scum like that continue to exist? Or perhaps he has never hurt you, really hurt you, as he has me."
"There is no one he has hurt worse than me," murmured Batman. "Except Commissioner Gordon. And Harley Quinn."
"I tried to help Dr. Quinzel," murmured Dr. Flint. "Reasoning with her has never worked – even her best friend and fellow lunatic Pamela Isley has no effect reasoning with her. But she has to be saved. She has to have her eyes opened to what he really is, to what she has done, to all the time she has wasted caring for that sick monster…"
"And you thought pain would do that?" asked Batman quietly. "When he has put her through constant pain and she still hasn't seen it?"
He sighed heavily. "I don't know what else to do. If reason and force both prove ineffective, I see no other option but to give up. And you and I are not the type of men to give up. We are the type of men who will use whatever methods are necessary to protect the innocent and control the lunatics. Even pain and violence. Mine is torture for a purpose, and I know you believe in that, Batman."
Batman was silent. "The escaped inmates have taken Dr. Leland hostage," he murmured. "They're demanding that you be removed for your post, or they'll kill her."
Dr. Flint snorted. "Well, then perhaps she will finally realize that they are monsters, heartless, unfeeling monsters, and she should not have indulged them as she did. I would say she is lying in the bed she made."
"Be that as it may, I won't allow them to kill her," murmured Batman.
"Then go rescue her," he retorted. "I'm sure you can. Or did you come here to ask me to capitulate to the lunatics and resign? I will not allow myself to be blackmailed by creatures like them, or anyone."
"I don't think you're a bad man, Dr. Flint," murmured Batman. "I think you are a man in pain, and I would like to help you. But I would like you to admit that to yourself, and take some time away from your career to overcome your grief and regain control of your mind…"
"My mind is perfectly sound!" snapped Dr. Flint. "I am nothing like the animals contained in here, and I resent the suggestion! I am perfectly capable, both physically and mentally, of doing the job I have been appointed to do. If you have a problem with my methods, I suggest you contact the Mayor, although I doubt he'll be inclined to listen to a man who has failed to stop the lunatics from causing chaos in his city time and again. So why don't you just go save the good doctor and drag the degenerates back here, so I can put a stop to the terror once and for all? Isn't that what you want, Batman? An end to the violence? Because I swear to you that I will not rest until I have cured them, one way or another. And this time, there will be no escape for them. We are installing full-body restraints in every cell. They will not be able to move, or speak – they will only be taken out for their therapy sessions under heavy guard. I think they will cure themselves quite quickly under such conditions. What do you think, Batman?"
Batman said nothing, turning away and heading for the window. "I will bring them back," he murmured. "And then we'll talk."
"Yes, do that," replied Dr. Flint, nodding. Batman flew out into the night, and Dr. Flint stared after him. "But we know what good talking does, don't we, Batman?" he murmured. "None. Absolutely none at all."