A/N: FINALLY! A new chapter! On the aftermath of the Joker's sudden realization. Will you enjoy it? Well, we have a slightly empathetic yet psychotic Joker and a very angry bat. So my guess will be yes. Especially since I'd have to say this is the 2nd best chapter in the series, but that's just me.
I'm SO sorry this took so long but I wanted to get this down perfectly. I had it ready on time but it was so... bleh. It was things happening with no motive or reason. Ew? I blame school. So I took my time, straightened out the thoughts and motives of the characters, and this chapter as born. (chapter #13 too). It's long, I know, but it needs the detail and I didn't want to split it up into two because what does that do? It makes you lovely people wait, even for the 2 or so seconds to get to the next chapter and I've made you all wait long enough.
Song used: "Man Without Fear"
Can you feel it The perfect day Scratch the leaves The paper tears The world I'm feeling start giving away A perfect day Suddenly your rule the universe You can't beat me (NO) You can't bring me DOWN! I lose everything Can I dream... Suddenly youre shot irreparably Everything was evil now clear I hear the darkness without sound I am The Man Without Fear... Justice is blind..but I trust you
Man Without Fear
Batman stood in the rubble that was once Arkham Asylum. The fire department was still busy putting out a few fires, the GCPD was still pulling out bodies, doctors were still busy treating anything they could, Nightwing was still busy catching escaped patients, and what was Batman doing? He was trying to find an alternative solution to this problem.
"He's broken the five hundred mark. In just about three months. Batman, that's over a hundred a month," a solemn, old voice stated plainly from behind him.
"I know Gordon," he replied simply. He knew the numbers, he knew the names, he knew the faces, he knew the methods, and he knew that this was his fault.
"The city is starting to call for blood. Almost everyone personally knows someone who's died in this killing spree," Gordon pointed out coldly.
"He's even killed outside of Gotham..." Batman stated coldly.
He felt Gordon's fists clench in frustration and his teeth go on edge. "God damn it. Why can't we just call the army in? The FBI? Someone to help us catch this son of a bitch for once?" he growled angrily.
"Because no one wants to believe the Joker can become a national problem... no one else can even pin the murders outside of the city on him. He hasn't left any physical evidence that we can use against him."
"What about those people who burned in that building! That was JUST outside the city limits! Who else could have the nerve to pull that off! Who else could have gotten away with that! We already KNOW who did it! WHY CAN'T WE NAIL HIM?" Gordon shouted at Batman angrily. But Batman didn't hold it against him. He knew he just needed to blow off some steam... they all did. When Batman didn't react, Gordon straightened up and composed himself. He lit a cigarette and turned to walk away. "I'm ordering a massive man search, and ordering my men to take a kill shot if they get the chance. We have the grounds."
Batman turned his head fractionally, but didn't respond or try to stop him. He knew it would be futile. He was angry. He was frustrated. And he was out of options. As he looked at the disaster around him, he realized they all were.
He called the bat mobile to him, hopped in, and drove away from the scene. "What do we have Alfred?"
"Well sir, it seems he had been given therapy sessions with yet another ambitious intern. Abigail Franklin. She had narcissistic tendencies, and seems to be completely lacking in skill to be allowed to work with the Joker."
"Seems like she was giving favors for handouts," commented Dick, annoyed.
"How's progress Nightwing?" Bruce asked.
"Slow. These guys are hiding like roaches. It's like they know something big is coming."
Batman narrowed his eyes as fear dropped in his stomach like a stone. He felt it too. Something dark and heavy was in the air, and he didn't like it. Perhaps it was just knowing the Joker was out in Gotham again, but it could also be his knowledge of the Joker telling him something he didn't consciously know. "Nothing else is going to happen. Not while I'm in charge," he pledged. Heard Dick's soft sigh of disbelief and felt Alfred's doubt. He felt his own cold doubt touch his heart, but pushed it away.
No. Next time the Joker tried something, he was going to stop him. He was going to stop him. He was going to stop him, make the city feel safe again, and make it so the Joker could never hurt anyone again.
9 months later
Bruce Wayne sat at his computer again, simply looking at the pieces of evidence staring him down.
There had been 6 possible Joker sightings in the last 7 months. One at a gas station, one in a hardware store, one story from a black market dealer/murderer, one at a grocery store, another in the mall, and the last one had been in an office building nearby Wayne Industries' building.
He had pictures or video of four -the mall turned out to be a teenager with green hair –which confirmed the grocery store, the office building, the gas station, and the hardware store. In the hardware store he bought a large hose, the gas station he bought 2 gallons of gas, and at the grocery store he mostly bought goodies that would last a child about 3 years. All of it was legally paid for, even if the transaction was at hidden gunpoint.
Bruce knew right away that this was going to be a fire, but he had few ideas where. Even worse, he had no idea where the Joker was. During the past 9 months all he's done is focus on anything to do with the Joker. He had interrogated almost every thug he could about the Joker, but no one seemed to know anything. Any lead he could find, he would use it until every last angle was spent. And there were still no leads.
Gordon's manhunt had done little more than nothing. They found bodies, kidnapped kids, murderers, Arkham escapees ect. but nothing on the Joker.
Then his eyes flickered to the files taken from Arkham about his last visit. Most of the papers from that visit were gone or burned. Some of the notes had Franklin saying the loss of Harleen Quinzel put him at risk for suicide, that he felt some sort of remorse for his abuses, and that he could be broken and reborn. He also found Quinzel's notes in a senior doctor's office with a few notes scribbled onto them by Franklin. Batman took them before anyone else could find them. He entered them into the batcomputer and burned them, taking special care that no one could ever find them outside the cave.
Fortunately, after the doctors determined that the Joker could have been suicidal and may have –after the many months –commit suicide, the whole city relaxed a bit. But the party clown business was gone from Gotham City anyway.
But the Dark Knight new better. The Joker may be miserable for some reason, but suicide wasn't his game. He was too narcissistic to die too intentionally. He liked the world to prove he could not be killed.
So here Bruce was, trying to predict the Joker's next move once again.
Franklin had tried to force the Joker into feeling "human" by forcing him to feel empathy over Harley's death. Then, she planned on helping him put the pieces back together again. Unfortunately, she didn't realize she didn't have enough of his trust for him to even consider allowing her to help him. So his mind saved itself in the only way it knew how: by venting his emotions in a wave of pain and destruction.
He wasn't sure how much pain and destruction the Joker needed to create to feel satisfied, but he was sure it was more than the city of Gotham could ever give.
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The Joker looked down and frowned at the city. At how lovely of a day it was... traffic was going smoothly, the sun was shining through the smog, the people were merely chattering than shouting, and everyone seemed mildly pleasant...
And he had every desire to destroy it. A lovely little plan that would let him turn this goodness into a puff of smoke.
He finally stood up from his perch on top of some building, and looked down over the edge. People. A lot of worthless, disgusting people were coming out to lunch. A lot of miserable, pointless beings were walking around doing errands. A lot of wasteful, detestable creatures were working inside of every building.
And all of the creatures were soon going to scream.
At that idea he began to laugh. His evil, signature laugh that everyone knew and dreaded. Everything stopped, and all of the smiling faces turned to those of horror. Women screamed and began to run. Cops began to call for back up. Men began to run out of their cars. Animals began to run into buildings. Perfect.
"Oh... this is going to be a GREAT day."
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Bruce Wayne had just been sitting in his office when he heard the news: The Joker was finally back.
He was dancing on a building about four blocks away in broad daylight. The Joker had never been one to hide when he wanted to be seen, but he knew that if the Joker wanted to be seen, there was nothing good coming.
He ordered an immediate evacuation of his building, helping everyone stay calm. The moment, he was outside, he made sure everyone was heading in the right direction. Screw his playboy persona. He knew better than anyone how dangerous the Joker was at the moment.
Unfortunately, he wasn't sure what the Joker wanted. The Joker had shown the many things he could be… and it wasn't clear what he was now. Based on Franklin's notes and his own knowledge of the Joker he assumed the worst, but hoped he was wrong.
"Where are you going?" he shouted angrily at one of his employees, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. Her brunette hair was tied up in a neat bun, her outfit fit for the office. He knew her as a secretary he had forced onto one of his board members.
She put her index finger to her mouth in a nervous motion. "I… I've never seen the Joker… I thought…" she mumbled, but obviously realized how ridiculously stupid she sounded. Bruce gripped her shoulders in frustration, but he understood. Of course she would be curious about the Joker… everyone was.
"You're better off not going," he growled in a low voice. "Now go!" he said firmly, shoving her in the opposite direction. She looked back regretfully, and then turned to run with the rest of them. Bruce watched her for a moment and sighed inwardly. Human nature… it was a strange thing.
His thoughts were interrupted by a well known, unwelcomed laughter.
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The Joker watched in disgust as the herd began to scatter. They didn't run farther away though. That was too far sighted for a herd in panic. They ran into buildings, or ran behind cars like cockroaches. They simply went to the first place they could find. He'd wager that if he dropped a boulder on a car, he'd kill at least five.
Figures. Thousands of years of evolution and they were all still live stock waiting for the slaughter.
The idea forced a smile on his disgusted face. Then his smile became mischievous… evil if you will. He suddenly became anxious for Batman to arrive. He could hear the sirens of police cars and squad cars but he didn't care. They wouldn't get there in time. The only person who could get there in time was–
"Joker!" a voice bellowed from behind him.
Speak of the devil! "Bats you should take a look at this!" he shouted playfully without taking his eyes off of the scene playing out below him, his mood suddenly lightening. "These people are acting like chickens without heads! I mean they're trying to hide! Can you believe that? You see that car right there?" he chatted while leaning over the edge, "I bet if I dropped a boulder right on top of it I would kill five people… or I could drop you." With that he began to laugh, but he knew the Dark Knight wasn't laughing. He knew he was calculating his options and possible sequences of events. Himself? He could only hope his plan worked.
"What are you doing Joker?" he asked bluntly.
The Joker turned his head, a wicked smile on his face. "Collection day Bats. Gotham has a debt to me, and now it's time to pay," he growled the last part darkly, his smile widening ever so slightly at the idea of repayment and he could see the worry flash across Batman's face.
The worry was only replaced by anger. "So… you're using Quinn as an excuse to go on a rampage?" he asked, outraged.
The Joker felt a twinge in his chest. It was annoying, feeling emotions. What was this? Anger? Guilt? Insult? He wasn't sure, but he kept his smile as the feeling gave him a renewed sense of purpose. "Righto-runey!" he said excitedly.
Something new flashed across Batman's face. A memory perhaps, the Joker decided. It was fleeting, but it had been there. It was then replaced by a new fury. The Joker chuckled… he was close now.
"Had a soft spot for my girl eh? Naughty, naughty Bats. She wouldn't have liked you anyways. You don't have the sense of humor she needed," he joked. But before Batman could take a step forward, the Joker hopped onto the ledge and pulled out an item from his pocket. The Joker knew Batman would recognize it… it was a small but very effective napalm bomb.
"I wouldn't Batman… There are still a lot of people down there," he teased while holding the bomb over the edge so Batman couldn't use his baterang. Batman obviously backed down a bit, thinking about his possible moves. How cute. "Now that's a good boy… but honestly Bats. You should know better," he commented with a cruel smile.
As the Joker dropped the small bomb on the people below, he began to laugh. Batman shot a line into the building across the street and zoomed past the Joker. The Joker smiled as he went past, knowing what he would do. He would let go of that lovely toy of his, zoom down and catch the miniscule napalm bomb. The Joker would be backing away to the middle of the building quickly, but time would slow for the both of them as they calculated their next moves. Batman would have caught the napalm bomb and would be shooting his grappling hook into the side of the building to pull himself back up. When the Joker made eye contact with the Batman, his cruel smile would grow as he pressed the big red button. He wouldn't give the Dark Knight a chance to stop him. He knew the Dark Knight would look around, alarmed, trying to find what the control activated.
A few buildings down, there was a large pipe disguised as a ventilation system. Suddenly, a look of panicked understanding would pass through the Dark Knight's face.
Does anyone want to know what the Joker had been doing over the past nine months? He spent 4 months perfecting an undetectable accelerant, 2 months figuring out how to spread it over three square blocks of Gotham –9 blocks in total –and would decide to do it himself, then he would spend 3 months walking around Gotham's streets and buildings.
And now he anxiously awaited to reap what he sow… death.
Before he knew it, his fantasy had finally come to life after months of waiting. Then he noticed Batman, the key piece to his plan, was trying to fly away.
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"NO!" Bruce Heard behind him. Before he could go off and try to stop this tragedy, there were hands on his shoulders trying to pull him back. He immediately elbowed the assailant in the face. Right after he did, the screaming began and he knew it was all over.
He didn't look behind him as a wave of fire took over Gotham… no. He was too focused on trying to beat the Joker to a pulp. No matter what thoughts went through his mind, he couldn't stop hitting him.
Unfortunately, as much as he hated the Joker, it wasn't always him Bruce was hitting. Every now and again, in a fleeting vision, he was hitting himself.
STUPID AND CARELESS!
He had promised… he had sworn... to himself and to Gotham that he would never let the Joker get away with something like this again. That he would protect the people of Gotham. And now… and now… this! Everywhere he looked there were flames. Everywhere he listened, there was screaming. He could smell the scent of burning human flesh and it sickened him. It sickened him that it was this monster, this smiling monster that he had allowed to live for so long, that had caused everything.
But there was still one more promise that he could keep… one last part…
He punched the Joker in the nose, temporarily disorienting him as he punched him in the chest as hard as he could, sending the demon clown flying across the roof and onto the ledge. Batman couldn't help but appreciate the sound of cracking bones… the grunts of pain… but it was only a miniscule fraction of everything he wanted to do to this damn clown prince.
He wanted to drop him into the chemical mixture again, allowing his skin to burn, then sick dogs on him, before beating him down with a crowbar, then shooting him in the spine to paralyze him, then slowly peeling off any skin left to leave his mind open to every single piece of mental torment Batman could think of… and that was a lot. And before the Joker died, Batman planned to do nothing. Nothing but leave him in a cell deep underneath Gotham. Just leave him there, and allow him to drive himself completely mad before dying. Maybe the rats would start eating him before he died… attracted to the scent of rotting blood and a dying evil.
But for now, he settled for picking up the Joker's broken body by the neck and letting him dangle over the edge. The Joker's face was bruised and bloodied. His nose, ear and mouth were leaking blood after such a beating and his cheek had an obvious cut from where he had punched him; but for some reason he was still smiling. Smiling joyfully like a child on Christmas morning. That was the most sickening thing of all.
"This is a warm spot…" the Joker joked weakly, referring to the flames below him. Still with an eternal smile.
"Do you realize what you've done Joker? Do you understand all you have ever done? All you've ever done is cause death and destruction! I've given you every chance… I've given you every chance to change! I've allowed you to live and yet you still continue to kill… we can't do this anymore," Bruce growled. He couldn't believe this… he had given the Joker countless chances, but he knew he would never take them. The Joker didn't care. Batman didn't expect him to start caring now. He never expected him to care. But Bruce did. Bruce always did… Batman had created this monster… and it was time to put him down.
The Joker then began to laugh. Not an evil laugh, but a small chuckle. "Do it then. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he said with a smile. It was only then that Batman noticed the tears flowing down the Joker's face, and his hand clenching onto something inside his jacket pocket.
Batman's intentions suddenly changed, and the Joker must have seen it because his smile finally dissolved into an angry frown. He began to struggle in Batman's grip, but Bruce wasn't having it. He threw the Joker back onto the roof and punched head right away, knocking him out cold. With the Joker still, Batman watched him for a moment before leaning down and began searching him.
The Joker had no weapons on him. No knives. No guns. No ropes. No piano chords. No Joker bombs. No corrosives. Not even a Joker card. The only thing he had in his many pockets… was a bloodied, creased picture of him and Harley.
Batman's eyes widened at the unconscious Joker. He had wanted to die. He wanted to die… because he had lost his harlequin. Harley Quinn had died over a year ago… today was the day they would have met now that he thought about it. It would have been their anniversary.
Gotham had a debt to pay he had said… they took his Harley Quinn, so he wanted them all to die for Giovanni's mistake. Dr. Franklin had unlocked the Joker's feelings for Harley, so suddenly she was worth more to him than anything else. Even more than chaos. The deaths today were Harley's anniversary presents… an apology present for not being able to save her. He would kill thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, just to say I'm sorry…
Bruce's chest felt heavy as he realized that the Joker hadn't become some rampaging, homicidal maniac. He had just become a man who had too much pride to kill himself, but no reason to live. He was sad. He was pained. He was lost. But despite the sudden change, it was no excuse. No excuse for the thousands of lives lost today.
Batman looked down at the flaming streets of Gotham. Burned corpses were everywhere. The fires were still burning and no one wanted to touch them. It was a sorry sight… a sight that made him hate the Joker more than ever… but as he looked down at the picture again he realized something.
The Joker now felt some sort of empathy. While not all life was worth that of Quinn's, it was obviously worth something since he gave so many to his dear clowness. He knew it was wrong… he knew people would suffer. He just thought it was worth it for her.
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When the Joker finally awoke, he was furious. He was obviously still alive. Nevermind that his whole body felt like he had been burned in the fire, but he was still alive... alive in a solitary confinement cell in Arkham no less. Damn it… he should have just blown the whole damned place to hell. No one needed to live anyways. And that included him.
But the more he thought about it, the more he figured he'd be dead anyways. He just created a chemical fire that burned thousands alive. Maybe the federal government would get involved and decide he was unfit to live. Or maybe a few vigilantes will finally decide enough was enough. Batman obviously failed to see that. He had hoped to go out in a chariot of fire and hate, but batbrain had chickened out last minute… even when he wanted to die. Why not just get rid of the biggest problem in your life if it's begging to be put out of its misery? It seemed reasonable.
"So he'll remember nothing…?" the Joker heard a doctor ask.
"Yes. Just inject him with this and the events of the past year will be lost from his memory… it's an old toxin from Scarecrow. This one seemed to actually affect the Joker. I've refined it so it won't have its unwanted side effects, but it should still work."
"I don't understand why we don't just get rid of him…" This was Commissioner Gordon. At least someone had some sense…
"HEAVENS NO!" the doctor shouted. Damn it… "He's a patient of Arkham. We don't euthanize our patients. We cure them."
Commissioner Gordon mumbled something, but the Joker couldn't hear him. But he could sense ole Batsy's displeasure. He knew the thought of killing him was still on his mind, but he also knew that he would never go on with it. He should have just gone to Gordon… but he knew that wouldn't have been nearly as exciting. Suicide by cop. What a joke.
"Batman… will the Joker have any of the… emotions he has now? I think we could make a lot of progress with him in this state of semi-empathy."
"Doctor, he's too focused on the loss of Harley Quinn. In the sate he's in he can't be cured. All that will occur is his thoughts of Harley will snowball and destroy him again," the Joker felt another twinge in this chest. "We can't risk it. He won't remember any of it. With any luck, when he wakes up he'll remember nothing. He'll be back to his apathetic self."
Apathetic self… which meant that he would begin to deny Harley again. No. She was better than that. He wanted to remember her. He wanted to feel for her. He wanted to give her what she was worth. He wanted to live with this pain rather than live with the apathy again.
Those pigs already stole her... they weren't about to steal everything she had given him
He sat on his cot, seething. Seething hatred, sadness, and anger from every pore in his body. He could taste it in the air. The taste was a constant reminder of what was coming.
He heard men coming towards him. It wasn't Bats... the steps weren't heavy enough. It was just creatures coming for him. The same type of creatures who had screamed before. That was the only time they made him happy... the only time where they seemed beautiful... when they screamed.
Unlike Harley, who seemed beautiful even when she was smiling at something completely human.
He wouldn't forget her, he thought as Harley ran through his mind. He'd never allow it.
He looked around frantically, looking for a way to win. A way to remind himself. He knew himself. He always expected Harley to help him. He always knew where she was. And if he didn't? He wouldn't know Harley was dead. He needed to remind himself.
He jumped up on his cot and started to claw on the walls. It needed to be short. It needed to be vague. It needed to remind him.
As the echoes got louder and louder he scratched faster, the letters barely visible but he knew he'd see them. He had to. Once he was done, he quickly sat back down as the steps stopped in front of his cell.
"Hello boys," he greeted darkly when they stepped into his cell. Two orderlies and Dr. Arkham. He hated them all already. And he made sure they knew it.
"Joker," the doctor greeted solemnly. "We're going to try a new medication on you. It may help you... cope with your feelings of aggression and desire for murder. It's helped a few others."
"I don't want it," the Joker growled.
"You don't have a choice..." the doctor replied, then nodded for the men to handle the Joker. The moved quickly to pin him down, but the Joker was quicker.
He stood up and knocked his head into one, forcing him to hit the wall, then as the other attempted to knock him into the cot the Joker bit into neck until blood flooded into his mouth right after the man began to scream. When someone pulled him away, a new orderly perhaps, a chunk of flesh came with him. He spat it out at the brute and he let go immediately, disgusted. Suddenly two muscled bodies forced his shoulders on the cot and let his back hit the metal. He ignored the pain and continued to struggle, excited by the pained screams fading into the distance.
But he felt the panic bubble in his chest when someone forced his arm still. "No! NO! HARLEY! HARLEY! LET ME GO! HARLEY!" he shouted, willing his shouts to burn into his mind.
He felt something cold and sharp touch the underside if his arm. With the bulky figures blocking his view he wasn't sure what it was in his state of panic, but everything inside of him screamed for him to get away all the same.
Somewhere in a rational part of his mind, where the adrenaline hadn't turned him into caged animal, he knew struggling was useless and stupid. Too human for his liking. But he didn't care.
The rest of his brain was still screaming. Screaming for release. Screaming for safety. Screaming for survival. Screaming for the only person who could cause this sort of reaction.
Suddenly the object pierced his skin, burying itself in his body. But even that didn't stop his struggles. He grit his teeth, bore with the pain and continued to struggle with all his might, screaming loud enough that the men in the room began to reek with fear.
Slowly though, his strength to fight decreased and his shouts became murmurs. Soon enough, the room began to blur. The orderlies slowly pulled away from the Joker, letting him slump to the floor. He glared up at them all, but focusing took herculean effort. He was becoming less and less sure of what he hated them all for in the first place. Even his hatred for them was fading away.
He was hardly aware that he was being picked up into the cot.
"Keep him sedated for the next few weeks. Treat his cuts and broken bones as quickly as possible. I don't want him waking up until there's no physical evidence of the events that happened in here. And clean this mess up," the doctor ordered condescendingly.
"You didn't give him the full dose doctor," someone pointed out.
"No, I didn't. Hopefully we'll be able to work with his feelings of empathy after all of this..."
"But Batman said-"
"I DON'T CARE WHAT HE SAID! We can cure him... and we're going to give it our best shot."
In the Joker's mind he laughed. Another one… another one… but they didn't matter. They never mattered. Only one mattered. And she was…
Gone
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The Joker groaned as he got up, swinging his leg over the bedside with one thin arm laid over his thighs and the other hand holding his head. Dear God it hurt.
He frowned. It would seem someone gave him a serious ass kicking... but then he smiled. If someone gave him an ass kicking than someone must now be handicapped. But sadly, he had no recollection of what he did...
A/N: Do I even need to say anything? Well I do need to say one thing... who can find the spoiler to the end of my story? ;) [don't spoil it for everyone else please]