CHAPTER XI

The lunch was, as expected, a very small distraction from my problems. All the people were boring, and the food was too weird-looking for me to approach willingly. I felt more constrained in my tuxedo than I did at any other boring social function. So I left a little early. I took off my tie immediately after getting into my car, going back to the manor. I didn't walk into the manor when I arrived, instead walking over to the Batcave. I changed into Batman, getting into the Batmobile and driving to Arkham Asylum. As I left, Dick, Barbara, and Alfred all noticed. Dick looked out the window as I drove down the road, wondering aloud, "Where could he be going?" "I don't know," Alfred answered, "But perhaps a long drive will help Master Wayne." Dick really wasn't sure how to respond. I didn't go anywhere without letting him know. At least, not most of the time. "Let it go for now, Richard," Barbara said, putting her hand on his shoulder. Dick sighed, "Okay, Barb. I'll let it go." "Hey," said Barbara, "Bruce can take of himself." "Or so he'd like us to believe," Dick scoffed. Barbara responded, "If he is faking, you'll be able to figure it out. And if you can't, Alfred will. Don't worry about Bruce." "All right, fine," said Dick. He took one last look out the window, and then turned and walked away. Barbara could tell he was worrying. It made her worry about Dick. He probably worried about her more than she did him, though. Especially after all that'd happened in the Underground. Dick was a guy with a lot of weight on his shoulders, and his friends hated seeing him like that.

I arrived at the Asylum, getting over the giant cement lined with barbed wire that separated the prison yard from the outside world. By this time I'd visited the Joker so many times that I knew when he would be out there. I spotted him immediately. He was lying on his back on the bleachers, reading a book. I walked over to him, asking, "Pleasure reading?" "Yes," he answered, "This is sudden. What do you need?" I didn't answer right away, and the Joker sat up, closing his book. He observed my silence with a perturbing interest. His smile lessened, becoming an intrigued smirk. "Let me guess…the Scarecrow?" I was glad I didn't have to say anything. Just the mention the Joker had made brought visions of the fear gas' effects back to me. The Joker leaned forward and continued, "Come on. I know you want to ask." I sighed, "How'd you know?" The Joker began speaking as though he was a dramatic TV show host, saying, "IIIIII'm glad you asked! You see, word travels fast in Gotham's resident cement cesspool! Once somebody starts flapping his gums, everyone knows! Speaking of which…" He returned to his regular tone of voice, screaming across the yard to Killer Croc, "HEY, CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR MARR-IAGE!" Killer Croc was obviously grateful for the Joker's statement, but also slightly confused. The Joker looked down at me, continuing, "Did you know he's actually human? It's really cool. Now, where was I…? Oh yes." He returned to his host voice, saying, "Anyway, it was only a matter of time before word of the Scarecrow's rampage across Gotham made its way to my ears!" He hopped down and stood next to Joe Coyne, going on, "Can you tell us something about that, Mr. Penny Plunderer?" Coyne stuttered, "I-I…I'm sorry, what…?" The Joker didn't let him finish, rolling his eyes and returning to his regular voice, saying, "You're useless." He grabbed Coyne by the head and shoved him away. I was ready for the whole act to end. I had serious things to say, after all.

The Joker turned back to me, saying, "Anyway, what's eating you? You're not looking as cheery as before." "I look cheery?" I asked. "Well…comparatively," the Joker said. I sighed, saying, "Fine, yes. It's the Scare…Jonathan Crane." "Jonathan Crane, eh?" the Joker nodded, "Knew there was something off about that guy." "You already figured it out, didn't you?" I asked. "Oh, yeah," the Joker answered with a laugh, "He relies a lot more on reputation to protect himself. A lot more than you do, anyway. He's still pretty effective when it comes to covering his tracks, but…you know me." "Figures," I muttered. I talked louder, "Look, he hit me with his fear gas. I need some advice." "You either ignored all the good advice or everyone you trust is dead," responded the Joker, "Because I don't know if you noticed, but..." He tugged at his prison jumpsuit, finishing, "I'm not the best guy to go to for counsel regarding life decisions. Unless they're bad. In which case, I could write a really good book…about bad decisions." I stared at the Joker. He said, "Okay, so they're not dead. And you did ignore them. Bad decision, Bruce. And as I made clear…I know what I'm talking about." "Well, no, I didn't," I said, "I just…don't see how their advice will help me in the long run. They all told me to just rest, or talk about it with someone else. I mean, how's that supposed to help my fight against Crane? It's not like I could talk to him about it." The Joker was deep in thought for a few minutes. He clenched his jaw occasionally, his smile changing every so often.

He finally looked me in the eye, asking, "Want to know what my worst fears are?" I answered, "Not sure." "I'll tell you anyway," the Joker said, "It'll be for your own good." He sat back down on the bleachers, saying, "The first is definitely losing Harley. That's a bit of a given, I guess. It'd be like losing Janice all over again. And then…I'm afraid of any unfamiliar smells. Especially when I can't quite figure out where they're coming from. It makes me wonder if maybe someone's coming after me again with another mind-altering gas. And if that's the case, what would happen? Would the gas make me act lower than a beast? Would I stop loving Harley? Would I just die? Now, most of the time, it's just something coming from another cell, or a guard's lunch. But that doesn't make it any less scarier when it happens again." "So what do you suggest?" I asked him. The Joker replied, "Embrace the fear. Once you let it through, you just have to look it in the face." "Why haven't you done that?" I asked. "Because everyone's different," the Joker said, "I'll probably take a long time to get over it. Why, I can't say. But you…you're different. I think you can do it. You just need to confront a few things." "What things?" I said. "Only you know," the Joker shrugged. I understood. I knew I was afraid of disappointing my parents, and maybe I was even scared of Crane. I still think the bats were just coincidental. And then again, maybe I was scared of other people taking things from me, especially those I love. Or maybe I was just scared by them leaving any way.

I didn't really think that I'd have a big issue with Barbara and Dick going off to college, or getting married and moving somewhere else. But the more I thought about it, the more it worried me. And then there was Alfred. Whether I liked it or not, he wasn't going to be with me forever. There's a part of me that still hates it. I can't believe how much I really was scared of losing them, period. I knew what I had to do. "Thanks," I said. "You would've figured it out on your own," said the Joker, "But you're welcome." I nodded, walking off and getting back over the wall. The Joker looked to another corner of the yard, getting up and yelling, "HEY, COYNE!" I got in the Batmobile, taking off my mask and speeding home. I pulled into the Batcave, getting out and changing into plain clothes. I walked inside to find Dick and Alfred reading books on the couch and in a large chair respectively. Alfred asked, "Do you mind my asking what it was you needed to do, Master Wayne?" "No, you're justified in asking," I said, "Sorry I left without any explanation." Dick said, "It's okay." I looked at the floor for a few seconds. I looked back up, saying, "Can I have a word, Alfred?" "Of course, Master Wayne," Alfred said, shutting his book and standing up. I walked into an old parlor with Alfred following closely. I let Alfred walk in past me, and shut the door. Alfred sat, and I did the same, sighing.

Alfred asked, "What is it, Bruce?" I explained my conversation with the Joker, finishing, "…I think a lot of it has to do with losing you and Barbara and Dick." "Surely there's more," Alfred said. I hesitated. I didn't want to open up like this. I needed to, but I felt like it would kill me. I mustered up the courage, saying, "I'm still afraid of letting down Mom and Dad. I did it when I was on Halcyon, and now…what if I die? What if I get Barbara and Dick killed? Mom and Dad would really be disappointed then." Alfred didn't look directly at me, but instead seemed to be examining my shoes. However, he eventually looked up at me and said, "I understand your fear, but you must let go of it. I'll be gone in twenty years or less, and barring any unforeseen incident involving your night job, you'll still be quite alive at that time, still defending people. My time on this earth will have been good, I think. My only dying wish would be that you and Dick and Barbara would be there to witness my passing. Living as a butler teaches a man many things, but mostly to be humble with pride. I am proud of my work, and proud of the man you've become, and I expect to be very proud of Dick and Barbara. And on the other hand, I'm still very conscious that my place is to assist you every day of your life. When my time comes, I'll know I've lived a rather pleasurable life, and that I've done my duty towards all three of you. All in all, I don't think that once I'm gone that the Bat Family will be missing someone. Rather, I think it will grow closer. You don't need to fear losing me." I looked at Alfred for a long time. I couldn't help thinking about all the scraped knees he's bandaged up. I couldn't help thinking about all the times he's slept in an uncomfortable chair because I'd had to go to the hospital. I thought about when I was a kid who didn't like big parties, and just had a great time with Alfred. I thought about his playful, father-like teasing when I mentioned a girl I'd talked to at school. And then, I couldn't help thinking of when Alfred thought for a name for a superhero and came up with "Batman".

Then I became suddenly more aware of his wrinkles and his statement of how long he had for this world. Someday, the man who regularly groomed his greying mustache, the man who absentmindedly straightened things out on the coffee table, the man who played video games with a depressed teenager even when he didn't understand them, the man who'd been a second father to that same teenager, the man who now took on the role for another young man, the man who sat across from me, would be gone. "I know, Alfred," I said slowly, "But still…when you're gone…I'll feel…" I stopped, turning away and swallowing the painful lump in my throat. "When you're gone…" I sighed heavily, "I'll feel just…just a little bit more alone." I sobbed, leaning forward and cradling my face in my hands. Amidst heaving groans, I said, "I'll feel more alone. Even with Dick and Barbara, I'll feel alone." I felt Alfred's careful hand on my shoulder, and heard his soft voice say, trembling, "You needn't feel that way." I looked up at his face. He'd been shedding tears as well. He repeated, "You needn't feel that way."