Chapter 11

"Ah, I'm so glad you could make it, Bat." Jerome's voice echoed in the hall of mirrors portion. "But I must ask: what does it matter to you if I go back to Arkham, if it doesn't matter to me? Gordon's been driven insane, so I've proven my point. All it takes for an ordinary man to become someone like me is just one bad day. That's where everyone is right now. One bad day." Bruce kept running through the hall until a trapdoor dropped out from under his feet. Quickly thinking, Bruce grabbed at the ledge right next to him, stopping him from falling onto a bed of spikes. He then got back up, beat up a few henchmen who tried to kill him, and proceeded.

"You had a bad day once too, didn't you, Mister Bat?" Jerome mocked. "I know I'm right. You had one bad day, and your entire life changed. Why else are you a man who thinks he a bat, and goes beating criminals to a pulp in the dead of night? But no, you pretend the world isn't crazy, and you force yourself to believe you're not insane, and you won't admit it! God, you make me want to puke." Bruce just kept running through the maze.

"Really, though, what is it that made you like this?" Jerome asked. "Girlfriend killed by the mob? Your best friend carved up by some psycho? Or… parents shot dead by a mugger in an alleyway?" At the last guess, Bruce stopped cold in his tracks.

"Ah, there it is." Jerome said. "I know who you are. I know that you're Bruce Wayne. I should've figured it out, ever since our first little royal rumble when I came back from the dead." Bruce then started running again, seeing a flight of stairs.

"I know, because something like that happened to me, you know. It's why I killed my parents." Jerome said, with a nightmare inducing grin. "Sometimes I remember it one way, sometimes another, because it's more fun having your past be multiple choice, ha ha ha…" Bruce then entered a room that looked like a small apartment, but everything was upside down.

"But you see, my point is…" Jerome came up behind Bruce, hitting him with a pot from the table. "...I went crazy. And I'm smart enough to admit it!" Jerome then pulled down a chair, and broke it over Bruce's head.

"So why can't you?" Jerome asked, kicking Bruce in the face to keep him down.

"Jerome, why…" Bruce began to ask, but was hit again by the madman.

"NO! Jerome died long ago. I am the Joker!" The newly named Joker threw his head back and laughed, before continuing to brutally beat Bruce.

"By clinging to reality, you're denying the reality of this situation!" Joker then started throwing plates and coffee pots at Bruce, ending with hitting him with a frying pan.

"I mean, do you have any idea how many times we've come close to World War Three over a flock of geese on a computer screen? You silly goose, it's all a game! So why can't you see it?" Joker pulled out a knife, preparing to kill Bruce. "Why. Aren't. You LAUGHING?" Bruce got up and punched Joker in the face, before throwing him into the upside down table.

"Because I've heard it before, and it wasn't funny the first time." Bruce said, before picking up the Joker and pushing him against a wall.

"I spoke to Commissioner Gordon before I came in here." Bruce explained, watching the Joker become more and more angry. "He said he wanted you brought in by the book. And do you know what that means?" Bruce paused, waiting for an answer. When he got none, he continued.

"It means that despite the Hell you put him through, James is as sane as he ever was." Bruce said, punching the Joker in the face. "So maybe, ordinary people don't crack. Maybe it was just you, this whole time."

"NO!" Joker yelled, poking Bruce in the eyes and ripping off his mask. As Bruce let go of the Joker, he pulled out a gun, aiming at Bruce's now exposed face. Without a second thought, Bruce punched the Joker, right beneath a shelf with jars full of chemicals. One of the jars fell, and crashed all over Joker, causing him to feel burning. As the clown screamed in pain, Bruce tackled him out of a window and outside, as it had begun to rain. Joker kicked Bruce off of him, and readied is gun again. With a maniacal grin, he pulled the pistol, only to see water shoot out of the barrel.

"Oh, goddamn it." Joker said, realizing it was just a water pistol. Throwing the gun to the side, he said sarcastically, "Well, what're you waiting for, rich boy? Kick the shit out of me, and getting your thundering applause."

"No. Not this time." Bruce said, confusing Joker. "I don't know what it was that turned your life around, but you know I've been there too. We could work together. I could find a good doctor to rehabilitate you. We don't have to kill each other. Please." Bruce extended his hand to the Joker, lying on the ground. "Let me help you." Joker looked up at Bruce, then his hand, then back at Bruce.

"I'm sorry, but no." Joker said solemnly, slowly getting up. "No, it's far too late for that." As the storm raged on, Joker started giggling a bit.

"Y'know, Bruce, this reminds me of a joke." Joker said. "See, there were these two guys in a lunatic asylum. But one day, they got bored, so they climbed to the roof, and just beyond the walls, was the rest of the city, was freedom. Now the first guy, he makes it across just fine, but the second guy, he's afraid of heights. So the first guy says 'Hey! I got this flashlight! I'll shine it across the gap, and you can walk across!' But the second guy goes, 'Whaddya think I am, crazy? You'll turn it off once I'm halfway across!'" Joker then started cracking up. "Excuse me, I'm sorry." But to his surprise, Bruce started laughing too. Both men started laughing so hard, they had to support each other in standing up. Pretty soon, Bruce heard the police sirens coming to apprehend the Joker, and after handcuffing the clown, Bruce put on his hood, and disappeared into the night before Bullock could see him, leaving the laughing Joker to the police.