EDITED CHAPTER! UPDATED CHAPTER!
UPDATE 2013: This chapter has been edited after my long hiatus. After re-familiarizing myself with the plot, new ideas popped into the mind and decided to explore. The essence of the story is THE SAME, but scenes have been re-imaged and dialogue improved to make this a more cohesive story. Hope you like the changes.
Author's note: Hey guys, it's me again with another chapter. I know I promised to write more often, but things were still slow here, and I had a truckload of things that demanded my attention. But now, I think I'm back for good. I feel the fresh air on my face, and the muses stiring between my synapses. I have a whole bunch of ideas for this story (changing my original plans for it once more, but I hope that it's worth all the efforts) as well as new ideas for new stories and tales. My fingers are itching over my keyboard and my neurons are in override, so lets see what happens here, shall we?
As always, PLEASE! Feel free to leave feedback for the chapters. It is that feedback that feeds the muses and if the muses are fed, they will inspire even harder. Really. I enjoy your reviews (good or bad) so please, talk to me and let me know what you think of the story. There is so much I can learn from you all...
One tiny note, there are some places where characters are thinking to themselves, and those separate and sometimes opposite thoughts are despicted in italics. Just wanted you all to know.
DISCLAIMER 1: Batman and all related characters are owned solely by DC COMICS
DISCLAIMER 2: There will be instances of MATURE LANGUAGE and SITUATIONS, even scenes of EXPLICIT SEX. PLEASE be warned.
BETA: My beta is currently in a sabattical, but will joins us again soon. In the meantime, please bear with me and my grammar. Any friendly criticism will be greatly appreciated. THANKS
Chapter 20: Understandings
The Iceberg Lounge.
Despite its name, the night club was one of the hottest places for the Gothamite socialite to gather on a Friday night for a good refreshing drink, some live music and if you knew who to ask, enough illicit entertainment to satisfy any taste. And it didn't matter if you were there for the music or the forbidden, Oswald Cobblepot would be on the winning side, collecting the profits of it all. That was right until the Batman disappeared. That fateful day, the city spun into chaos and business that depended on a large outpour of people, like the nightclub, suffered the consequences of the spiking criminal activity on the streets. People just got afraid of going into the streets at night and business was slow these days.
Cobblepot sat in his office, like he had been doing for the last two weeks since there was not much happening on the floor of the almost empty club. He was accompanied by a half full martini glass in front of him as he cleaned his monocle with a linen handkerchief and listened carefully to one of his investors over the phone.
"I don't know if I want to be involved in that project of yours, Marty," the Penguin said aloud to his speaker phone as he reclined comfortably on his leathery executive chair. He put his monocle over his left eye and reached over to pick the cigarette still smoking over the ashtray. "Batman or no Batman, it is dangerous business. I don't need the police making connections with the Iceberg Lounge. I usually want to stay invisible if you catch my meaning."
"But Mr. Cobblepot, this is an elite club and the offer in my opinion is more than generous," the man in the other sideof the phone said in a low scruffy voice. "The bat has not been seen in weeks and after hearing the rumors of what the clown did to him, I doubt he's gonna have the face to come back."
"HA! What you mean he's not back? The Bat is always back…tomorrow or next week. I'm not risking it."
"Pity 'cause you know who is here investing in this gold mine? Some friends of yours: Edward Nigma, Jonathan Crane, just to name a few. They've selected you among hundreds of candidates 'cause they thought you will understand the benefits of this alliance."
The line remained silent, a sign that the Penguin was really listening attentively. Marty when on for the kill. "Know what Cobblepot? I'm gonna give you a few days to think this over. Make your research and talk to your contacts. They'll all tell you that this is a win-win deal, a once in a lifetime opportunity."
"Marty, stop sweetening the deal, I'll think it over and that's it." Cobblepot took a sip of his martini. "But if in the meantime you find anybody else crazy enough to invest that amount of money feel free to pass me."
"I see Mr. Cobblepot. We'll talk some later. I have other business to attend now."
"Me too and don't call again unless you have something that would REALLY catch my attention, OK?" The Penguin responded ending the call with his fist pounding the call button. He leaned over and stirred his martini. He thought of the offer he had just let go. It was tempting if indeed this city was defenseless, and people like Edward Nigma or Jonathan Crane were willing to invest. Specially, Eddie. He was not easy to fool when money was involved, but something told him it was not the right time. Penguin sighed. Still, it sounded so tempting…
Cobblepot was distracted from this train of thought by a knock on his office door.
"Come in." Penguin responded flicking the ash from his cigarette on the icy ashtray beside him. One of the bouncers of the bar came in and hurriedly walked over to the boss' desk. Cobblepot frowned. He wanted to spend some time with just himself and there seem to be no way he was going to get some peace tonight. "Hope this is important Howard, I left specific instructions about-."
"This will interest you sir," the bouncer said leaning over the desk to speak secretly at the Penguin's ears. Cobblepot's eyes opened wide with surprise as he smiled, holding tightly to his cigarette with his crooked teeth.
"When did he get here…? Is a blonde sitting with him? Blue vacant eyes…can't stop giggling?"
Howard shook his head. "He's with a big guy and he's scaring the staff. He just threatened to kill the bartender over a purple paper umbrella. You want me to get him out of the club, sir?"
"Not unless you wanna die on the spot. Let me handle him personally, Howard. He and I have an understanding. Just make sure we're not interrupted."
The bouncer nodded and headed back to the door, disappearing behind it in direction to the bar downstairs. Cobblepot looked at his reflection on the martini glass as he chuckled softly to himself and considered the possibility that fortune had already starting smiling on his side. He grabbed his glass, extinguished his cigarette and headed out of his office towards the bar.
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
Bruce arranged carefully the cuffs of his jacket and dusted the suede shoulders gently. He needed to look his best for Vicky, only to reassure her that everything was back to normal. He could only imagine what was going on through the reporter's mind, now that it was quite obvious he had been ignoring her for the past week. Ms. Vale was very difficult to fool, especially when she knew Bruce probably as well as Alfred did.
The mansion felt deserted as Alfred had retired to his duties on the kitchen and Bruce welcomed the feeling since he really didn't feel like talking to anyone of the bat-family right now. He could read between their words and they were probably dying to find out what had happened to him through his captivity. He headed to the family room when a familiar voice coming from the studio, caught his attention.
"Bruce!" the voice called again when Wayne turned around to see Tim Drake waving from the desk at the library. The young man sat at the mahogany Old English style desk surrounded by what looked like a mountain of books and handouts. The millionaire waved back forcing a smile as he walked slowly to meet his friend.
"Thought everybody had left the house, but I see you have been punished with extra homework." Bruce interloped faking a mischievous smile. Tim sneered at him.
"Very funny, Bruce. It's my humanities finals: Romantic art and Literature. Could it get any more depressing?" Drake said as he meticulously searched on a pile of documents. Bruce smiled. "What about you, how're you doing?"
"I'm fine, but I still feel I could sleep for another week."
"I bet after what that Clown did to you. He probably tortured you day and night."
Bruce noted the intention of the comment. Drake wanted details of what had transpired with Joker and there was no need to reveal anything at the moment. "It got worse when I lost contact with the children. Didn't know if they were dead or alive."
"Why didn't you escape before, Bruce? You probably had a chance to do it more than once and turn the odds in your favor, right?"
Bruce made a pause to think his answer. He did have a chance to escape, and he blew it. And after the Jester's abuse and revelations, he chose to stay within the Clown's reach. There was no logical excuse to staying within the Joker's grip, other than the shameful thought that the Clown offered something that was impossible for him to refuse. He wasn't ready to talk about it yet, but he could hear that other voice in his head pleading him to tell the whole truth.
"You OK, Bruce?" Tim asked staring at his mentor who looked a million miles away.
"Yeah. The children. The Joker made it very difficult to escape without risking the children." LIAR! He thought as he fixed nervously the tie on his suit.
"That psychotic son of a bitch…endangering innocent children. Who knows what he did to those poor kids?"
"Luckily nothing permanent. The news said they were not mistreated and he promised me they will not be harmed." As long as you stayed with him Bruce, he thought to himself wishing he could tell it all. Tell him the truth.
"The Joker promised you?" Tim raised an eyebrow. "And you believed him?"
"He kept his promise this time." Why are you lying for the Joker, Bruce? "The children were unharmed, no?"
"What did he promised you in exchange? Because I can't believe the Joker would just do something out of the goodness of his heart."
Both men's conversation was interrupted by the butler clearing his throat to announce his presence. Bruce had never been happier to see his butler standing by the entrance of the library. It was like seeing the sun shine through the clouds after days of stormy weather and the conversation with Tim was heading into territory he wasn't ready to walk yet.
"Sorry to interrupt sirs, but Miss Vale has arrived." Alfred said stepping beside the library arched entrance to reveal the reporter standing behind him. Vicky wore a peach colored blazer on a white shirt stamped with very light flower print and all this over a pair of maroon dress leggins and short heeled sandals. The reported rushed past Alfred to embrace Bruce.
"God…I'm so glad to see you're ok. For a moment I thought that you were seriously hurt."
Bruce responded the embrace affectionately. "Sorry for scaring you, Vicky. I was just exhausted; needed some time on my own, away from everything." There you go, Bruce, lying again.
"It must have been horrible." Vicky said caressing the strong squared chin. She finally tiptoed to press the man's lips gently with hers. "I can only imagine, love."
Bruce looked at both the butler and Tim who looked back at him intently. All of a sudden, he felt uncomfortable with all the attention on him. Vicky noticed the pair of eyes on her as well and her face blushed.
"Umm…sorry. How rude of me. How're you doing Tim?"
"Ahhh….fine. Studying for finals," Drake responded bashfully sifting through the pages of his textbook. "Damn Romantic poets."
"Oh, Romantic literature?" she stated with a spark of joy in her voice. "That was my favorite subject in college. So much passion and turmoil in those romantic souls. Hey if you want I can help you with the review later."
"Sure why not." Tim said with a smile as he lifted his textbook. "But first, I have to read a lot on Lord Byron."
"Would you like to have a walk through the gardens while we leave Tim to his literary quest? By the time we're back he'll be ready for the review. What you say, Vicky?" Bruce said folding her arm over his. She nodded as they both started to walk out of the library; she rested her head against his shoulder as they exited.
"I will have some refreshments ready by the main fountain," Alfred announced as he saw Bruce and Vale disappear together towards the gardens. He looked at the young hero who looked amused by the whole thing from his study corner. "Is there a problem, Master Tim?"
"I don't know yet…" Tim started to say when he felt uncomfortable with the thoughts rushing through his head. He was trying to imagine Bruce trusting a Joker's promise. That was on itself…absurd. "Depends on how fast I can cram all this poetry nonsense before the test."
Alfred raised an eyebrow and smiled almost imperceptibly. "Then I suggest you don't waste time and get back to your scholarly duties sir. I will come back with snacks to fuel your brain cells."
Tim smile. "Thanks Alfred. This is going to be a long and boring trip to Romanticism."
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
The Penguin entered the Polar Starlight room, famous for the starry sky above that had been engineered to look exactly as the sky on the South Pole at any given time of the year. Normally the Starlight Room will be packed with people on a Friday night, but it was still early and right now he was expecting to see only one guest sitting at booth 13; the only guest who ever dared sitting in that booth. Nobody ever sat at that booth because they thought it was haunted by the couple this very same guest had killed when he found them at HIS favorite booth. The message was clear and no one ever dared sit in there again. Oswald looked around until he saw a thin tall man in a dark blue jacket and mane of dark wild hair sitting at the table and entertaining a piña colada decorated with a purple umbrella. In front of him sat a man, large as a mountain, wearing a striped polo and swirling a tall beer glass in silence.
"Hey, long time no see, Jay," Oswald let out with a cackle as he approached the man at the booth. "Where is your gal, or are you dating brawny men now?" Penguin busted in laughter that sounded more like the hoarse painful squawk of a dying seagull. The man in the polo shirt growled.
Jay didn't even lift his eyes to meet the Lounge's owner, but rather concentrated in his glass that he massaged it with the tip of his gloved right hand. "Lou, get rid of the fat puffin. I need some peace of mind tonight and I can't think with all that squawking."
The thug rose from his seat and advanced menacingly towards the Penguin.
"Woah! What's wrong with you? It was just a joke." Cobblepot raised his hands in protest as two men rushed into the Starlight room holding something within their jackets. One of them pulled a semi automatic gun and Lou stopped a few feet from Penguin as the Lounge's owner waved his men to stand still.
"Sorry, Oswald…HA, HA, HA." Jay said obviously forcing his guffaws. "You're funny as a doorknob. Adios."
"Boy, are we in a lousy mood tonight," Cobblepot said motioning his men to stay calm. "And you have never called me Oswald before. Hmmm, could you please tell your gorilla to chill?"
The man at booth 13 coughed. "Finish your drink, Lou…"
"Can we talk Jay?" Cobblepot prompted, glaring at the large thug that sat back down with his friend. "In private if you don't mind."
The thin man rubbed the excess froth from the rim of his tall glass with the tip of the paper umbrella and licked it off savoring it as if it was a rare delicacy. "Lou, all you can eat and drink at the bar, courtesy of Mr. Cobblepot. Go." The thug grabbed his glass and rushed out in direction of the bar located opposite of the Starlight room. Penguin's men followed leaving the two men alone in the room.
"Well…sure. You're welcome, Lou." Penguin squealed as he sat his martini glass on the table sat with some difficulty where Lou had been a moment ago. He huffed and puffed as he slid his large figure into the booth until he faced the man eye to eye. "Ok, Harley left you again, didn't she?"
Jay smiled subtly. "Yeah. She's turned into a vegan. No clown meat for her…"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? You're having one of your crises tonight, or what?"
The Jester took a sip and looked strangely at his drink. "And I thought I was having a piña colada. That would explain the awful taste. I remember when this place offered delicious drinks…ages ago."
"Very funny Joker, but you should not let that blonde dictate your moods. Makes you look bad."
"Now, what is that supposed to mean?" Joker retorted angrily, staring at Cobblepot with angry green eyes reduced to fiery slits of hate. "Harley doesn't dictate my moods."
"Really? Then why is everybody talking about you? What you did to the Mayor, the letting children go unharmed," Cobblepot made a pause to clear his throat and wet his parched lips with a sip of his martini. "What you didn't do to the Batman…which raises the question. Why didn't you kill him?"
"Too easy, Pengy. Playing with the enemy is much more fun. Even an amoeba knows that."
"Well, people think you didn't have balls to finish a job…or maybe had one of your psychotic episodes that clouded your judgment. Now I understand, after seeing how Harley's tantrums have turn you into this mess-."
Joker slammed a fist on the table. "Stop bringing Harley to the conversation. She has nothing to do with my mood tonight. I'm just…tired." Cobblepot couldn't help to be taken aback by the answer.
"Well, I'll be darned. If it's not Harley, what's eating you?" The Jester did not respond. His eyes fixed on the water mark left by his drink that he started to use to draw on the smooth surface of the table. Cobblepot just drummed his stubby fingers anxiously. "Okay, not in the talking mood. Odd on someone known to never shut up, but anyways, you should care what others say, and I'm saying this as a friend," Penguin took another sip of his drink and took his monocle off to clean it with a napkin. "Everybody is saying that you lost your touch."
"And many others say I'm out of touch, Ozzie. That's the Joker's magic. Just ask my shrink." The Clown Prince said putting on one of his crazy faces and exploding in a childish giggle.
"You think this is funny? People are saying that you're all talk and no bite. Engulfed in your own madness, a shadow of the Joker everybody used to be terrified of. Doesn't that bother you?"
"People always talk." The Jester reprised as he drank his piña colada." Let them talk."
"You don't understand. If you look bad, no one is going to want to play with you."
"Ozzy, you know well I've never played well with others. EVERYBODY knows that." Joker swirled the tiny umbrella around the top of the glass. 'And since when do you care? It's not like we're friends or anything."
"OUCH!" Cobblepot responded putting a hand over his chest. "After all we've been together? That hurts, Jay. "
"No, you just have gas, and our 'times together' can be summarized simply with this: You've used me, I've used you and together we've used everybody else. That's the nature of the relationship. Now go and stick your nose up somebody else's ass. Another of your clients might need a colonoscopy tonight."
Cobblepot snorted angrily as he clenched his fists over the table. "Look, Clown, you had a beautiful opportunity to rid us of that flying son of a bitch and you blew it. Now everybody is saying that you suck and like it or not that reflects on us. You look bad, we look bad. Capice?"
"Mmmm…So this is all it wounds up to be. You're worried about your reputation." The Jester responded massaging the glass with his fingers in a rhythmic along its length. "And I would watch that tone with me my fat, featherless 'friend'."
"You really don't care what people think, do you?" Cobblepot retorted, lighting a cigarette. Jay shook his head silently. "And would you stop that? It looks like you're masturbating that glass. It's disgusting."
Joker snorted and stuck his tongue out with a grimace as kept stroking the glass with more insistence then licked the cold icy rim. Cobblepot grimaced and that made Joker smile. "I stopped caring a long time, Ozzie. I would like to, I don't know…try other things. Even the psychotic, murderous clown routine get's old." Now that is hard to believe, the Jester heard a familiar voice in his head say inside his head.
Penguin let out a loud cackle. "If I didn't know you, I would say you've recovered your sanity. Fat chance, but I can see something strange in your eyes."
"What, what do you see?" Joker retorted nervously. The voice spoke again in his head. Snagged! Listen to the bird, Clown…
"That you need something to challenge your intellect. You're a brilliant man Joker and this city, along with his bat, has become more of the same for you, hasn't it? You need a new game."
"You my frigid friend…are tripping in dry ice." Joker answered with a perverse smile. The voice spoke to him again and he tapped gently his forehead. Yes, feeling the call again, Joker?
"Aww, you can't lie to old Ozzie, Jay. I know you're just dying to kill something. That's the way you are." Cobblepot leaned over closer to the Jester and spoke with a soft whisper. "That's what this is all about, right? The different MO, the so called apology… You're planning on screwing this city big time, fuck them like they have never been fucked before so they will remember who the top Clown is. Please, tell me you are."
"The colorful language tells me you have not being laid in a while, eh Ozzie?" Joker said without lifting his gaze from the glass. A sinister smile peeked under the aquiline nose.
Penguin frowned. "Joker, seriously. You must be really sick if you're not planning on killing a few hundred people in a week. What happened to you?"
"I got the Clown flu, or maybe I'm just having the wrong psychosis. Just leave me and tend to your other guests. Don't you have to make inventory, do payroll…maybe die?" Joker spat back furiously as he felt the anger build inside him. Gee, had he become so predictable? All of a sudden the Jester was invaded by a vision: Oswald Cobblepot sprawled on the blood covered floor, open like the pig he was with half his innards hanging out and a beautiful grin in his face. Joker smiled wide. Come on, Jay…let me back out. You know this is what you want. Let's play with the birdie…I promise to make a big mess.
Joker's face darkened and he lowered his gaze to the drink before him. He swirled the half full glass silently, as he felt shame of his own overactive imagination. Cobblepot tapped the table, but the Jester didn't react. The only thing he could focus on was on calming the voice in his head that was demanding him to kill something.
"Hello? Is anybody home?" Penguin finally said waving a hand in front of the Clown Prince's eyes.
Joker set the glass back down brusquely on the table and closed his eyes. "SHUT UP!"
"Excuse me?"
"What?" The Jester responded looking back at Cobblepot, his emerald eyes sparkling in the dim lighting of the room. "I mean…just shut up. I came here to have a piña colada, and instead I feel like back at the cage interrogated by one of those idiotic doctors. You know what I did to my last shrink, right?"
"Yes, and now you want to kill me too, don't you?" Cobblepot replied with satisfaction in his fat smiley face. Joker just stared. "That's it Joker. Bring back the Clown we all know. You're more than this lousy, unhappy man drinking his sorrows away in a bar."
"You want me to kill you? 'Cause you know, I'm always happy to help a friend in need." Joker smiled.
"Not really, but I want you to be you." Penguin said putting a hand over the Jester's shoulder.
"That's what I've been trying to do till you showed up." Joker spat out acidly pulling away from Penguin's hold. "Now back off; you're invading my happy space."
"Happy? I don't see anything happy about the man sitting in front of me, Joker. What has happened to you, my friend…who did this to you?"
Joker rolled his eyes and went back to his drink that he started to caress sensually again. He knew the answer to that question, but there was no need to share it with the world. He really wanted to rip the Penguin's throat for meddling in his private affairs, but he couldn't deny there was a hint of truth in those false pretensions of friendship.
Joker pushed his drink off the table, sending it to crash on the floor halfway across the room.
"That was an awful piña colada, Ozzie. Someone should kill your bartender for serving something so disgusting." The Jester made a pause and ran a hand down his black wild mane. He was keeping his anger out of check. "Here we go again…"
"Talking about murder? Yes," Oswald stated pushing himself against the booth with a sardonic smile. "Third person you said you wanted dead in less than an hour. That's more like the Joker I know. Why do you fight this?"
Joker sighed deeply. "Because there has to be more than this, lousy clown with no spark."
"This is really bad, really bad. Worse than I thought, my friend," Cobblepot stated putting his cigarette out in the ashtray. He pulled a tiny remote from his tux and pressed a button. The remote vibrated emitting a soft buzzing noise. "What about a job…to flex the old muscles. What you say, Jay?"
The Jester shook his head emphatically. "I'm not going to play games with you, any less join you in any of your illegal enterprises. I'm not in the mood. I'm on sabbatical."
"Who said that I'm playing any games? I'm offering you a chance to taste the world you seem to want to get away from, so you can be sure this is what you wanna do and you don't even have you show your face if you don't want to. And they say that exercise helps with the mood."
"Very thoughtful, but I don't need your help."
"No, you need a straitjacket, but since I don't have one here, what about investing in a new enterprise. Increase your investment profile. This one promises three times the initial investment."
"Oswald, I told you I'm not in the mood…"
"Come on…just hear me out because you can't pass this one out. I could have kept it for myself, but I know you can get a laugh or two from it, besides loads of cash." A short man in black and white attire and a small navy apron appeared at the entrance of the Starlight room carrying a small bottle of white zinfandel wine in his hand.
"Did you call, Mr. Cobblepot?"
"Bring another piña colada for my friend here, on the house. The best piña colada ever made at the Iceberg's Lounge and be sure you add a beautiful purple paper umbrella to the glass." Cobblepot turned to the Joker. "This one will make you smile again, Joker. I promise."
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
By the time they arrived at the large fountain decorated with the life sized Neptune emerging from the waters and an entourage of nymphs and sea creatures, both Vicky and Bruce were laughing heartedly. They have talked about the weather, sports, the old college days, and even art and literature, but they have not spoken about the most important subject that brought them together in the first place. Vicky advanced a few paces and sat at the fountain in front of the large figure of Neptune with his trident.
"This is a beautiful fountain, Bruce…and huge." She said trying to look at the monumental fountain's details and exquisite selection of materials that varied from marble to brass to black polished stone and what looked like gold leaf details. She noted in a corner of the fountain a small table with an array of tea and pastries covered with an acrylic lid. Alfred was always so thoughtful. Vicky pondered as she played in the water with her hand.
"My father had it built for my mom. She loved the large fontanas with mythological themes that she'd seen during her travels to Italy."
"That's very romantic," she responded turning towards him. "He must've loved her very much."
"Yes, he did." Bruce said solemnly as he walked over the table with the deserts. "You want some tea?"
"Sure," Vicky responded looking tenderly at the millionaire as he started to serve the tea. He looked healthy and recovered, but in those blue eyes she could read a weight that oppressed him from within. Something he was holding back even from his loved ones, and she knew his captivity must have been an ordeal. She also knew there was only one way to chase away the ghosts, and it was to speak their names. "Bruce…"
"Yes, Vicky?"
"When Joker had me hostage at the nurse's home…he sounded disturbed, and obsessed."
"You want sugar?" He responded absentmindedly changing the subject.
"Two cubes, thanks. You heard what I said?"
"You were telling me something about Joker." Bruce replied bringing her cup of tea in his hand.
"Yes, he was acting strangely. Not what I expected for a psycho like him."
"And what did he say?"
"That he needed to get your attention somehow, and he even asked me how to grab your attention, you know…romantically. He knew about us, Bruce. Does he know you are Batman?"
"That's absolutely impossible." Wayne responded picking his cup and saucer from the table.
Vicky was taken aback by the matter-of-factly way he handled the information and even bothered that she was not being taken seriously. She expected a more energetic reaction to the fact that she had just told Bruce the Jester had a crush on him.
"I don't know. You should have heard him. It was as he was in love with you or something. It was strange." Vicky sipped from her cup. "Did he tell you anything?"
The question hit him like a bullet. Vicky was a reporter that never played around with her questions. "He just…talked. A lot. But I don't even remember half of what he said. I was more worried about the children." Here you go again…LIAR.
"Yes, the children," Vicky took a sip of her tea. "They were not harmed. Odd, don't you think?"
"He promised me that he would not harm the children." Bruce responded not realizing he might have fallen in the trap of a very clever reporter. The voice in his head reverberated loudly. Aren't you missing something?
"In exchange of what? Joker never offers anything for nothing."
You can't fool this one, boy. Bruce shrugged. "He just said that he would not harm the children." Lying again Bruce…shame on you.
"That has never stopped you before. You would've escaped and put the psycho back in his cell where he belonged. That's what you do, not bend to the whims of a sociopath like Joker."
"Vicky, you're making it sound like I didn't want to escape and save the children." She's seeing through your lies. What are you going to do now? "He had them with him, at an undisclosed location. Was not sure what he was planning to do, but imagined him capable of anything. Needed time to devise a plan."
Vale set the cup beside her. "No…that's not what I meant, but it's that there is something else that you are not telling me that prevented you from getting out of his grasp. He tortured you, didn't he?"
"He…he drugged me." Bruce finally admitted as he put his tea away and closed his eyes. Finally! Go on.
"Good God Bruce, what other horrible things did that monster do to you?" She said when he closed his eyes and sighed.
"Vick, he is a monster, but have we ever stopped to think why he is the way he is?" No,no. Tell her the truth.
Vale looked at him strangely. "Where does that come from? He is a monster because he is out of his fucking mind, what else?"
"But what made him go crazy?" Bruce replied noticing that the look on Vicky's face turned even stranger. "Vicky, just think for a moment. We always catch him and lock him up, but maybe it's time we try to look and figure out what's wrong with him."
"And since when you turned psychiatrist? That's what Arkham's for."
Bruce shook his head. "No, Arkham is not helping. Joker has been psychotic for years, and I don't think that they have improved the psyche of any of their inmates. Harvey, Nigma, Szaz…It's not working. I would even say that the treatment is getting them worse."
"And you want to change the way they practice medicine at Arkham because…"
"Because that is the only way this violence is going to stop. I'm not going to be around forever, Vick. The nightmare will only stop when all the ghosts have been faced and conquered. We can't just contain evil, we have to transform it."
"And you think they have not tried to change Joker? Bruce, the first step to change is to want to change. The clown just plays games with his psychiatrists, telling them so many versions of his past that I think they stopped counting and at the first chance, he gets out of the hospital just to start a whole new cycle of chaos and murder. Don't you see it? He doesn't want to change."
"He never had a reason to change. But what if one day we could find a reason he would want to change?"
"The same day you and I take a little trip in a UFO to I don't know…Oz?" Vicky rose and walked towards the millionaire. She stopped just inches from him, with her arms folded over her chest. "Bruce, Joker is so out of touch with reality that he doesn't realize that what he does is wrong. For him is just a game, life means nothing for him and his only goal in life is to have fun at other people's expense. The Clown is not willing to trade his twisted version of fun for anything else."
"But he said, he was sorry…he wrote it on the note he sent to the newspaper. He has never done that before. Maybe, maybe he's calling for help this time."
"And you believed what he said. Bruce, you know him better than anyone. He's a pathological liar." Vicky frowned and walked back towards the crystalline waters of the fountain looking down at her own reflection. She sank her hands into the large fountain pool and splashed the water on her face rubbing angrily. The clear water of the fountain started took a very light tinge of red as the makeup in Vicky's face dripped down to reveal a ghostly white complexion and a large red macabre smile drawn on her face. Tears started to flow freely down her cheeks as she saw the reflection of her face on the now tinted waters.
"Vicky, what are you…?"
She turned angrily at him, trying to wipe the tears off her face. "This is how much Joker wants to change, Bruce. Look at me. That bastard tattooed a portrait of his own twisted face on mine, so I won't forget how close I was to being his next victim. Sadistic monster, and I don't even know if the doctors can fix it. Is that the same Joker you're advocating for now?" Vicky wiped her face on her blouse. "I can't believe you are saying this. After all that Joker has done to me…to Barbara. And have you forgotten what he did to Jason?"
"I didn't know how what he did to you was this…permanent-." Bruce stopped and backed off as he realized Vale was not going to be receptive to his experience. She had experienced the Jester's sadism first hand, why was he the only one that seemed to have seen the Joke's other side?
"Well?"
Bruce pursed his lips and closed his eyes as he lowered his face. There was no way of debating the point with Vicky, because deep enough he knew she was speaking the truth. In her eyes were the resentment and the hatred that too many people felt for the Clown Prince of Crime. There was no way to forgive the long list of atrocities that he had committed over the years, but in his memory reverberated the sorrow and the sadness of the clown's plea for love and understanding. Could all this be a canard…a big fat lie on the Jester's side?
"No, I have not forgotten…but I have forgiven."
"You what?"
"I know it's hard to understand, but I couldn't take the hatred or the anger anymore, Vicky. It was borrowing a hole inside. Batman's driven by justice, not a personal agenda. You know how many times I wished I could just kill the Joker, and end the pain he has caused?"
"He would have deserved it, Bruce. Every ounce of it."
"But it is not right to take justice in my own hands. That takes the focus from my goal. You said it yourself, Vicky. Joker is sick. He doesn't know that what he does is wrong. How can I hate him?"
"It's not hard, believe me. Just look at me. Tell that to the kid who saw her mother dead in the kitchen, murdered just for giggles. He's never going to stop killing people. Bruce, I know he's sick, but I also know he deserves punishment for his crimes. Just don't save him all the time and definitely don't make excuses for him. Let him get what he deserves, by his own hands."
"And what if…one day he came to you and asked you to forgive him?" What're you trying to do, Bruce?
"No you have lost your mind…why would he do that?"
"I don't know, just tell me. Would you ever forgive him?
"I will never believe him. He can't feel remorse." She responded emphatically. "His repentance is not real."
"I can't blame you for feeling like that." Bruce sighed. "But I have forgiven him and I now feel this lightness in my heart that I have not felt in years and I like how it feels. I had to let go, it was making me miss the fullness of my life."
"What did he do to you, Bruce? First, I thought he was in one of his psychoses and that he was somehow…in love with you, but now, I'm not so sure. What exactly did he do?"
"He…he asked me to understand him." God…I can't believe you fell for it.
"I don't believe this. What is there to understand? That's he's crazy? Have him ask Arkham for help. That's what psychiatrists are for." Vicky turned around and walked away from him.
"Maybe he did, and nobody listened." He felt as if the ground between them sank, forming a large gap that promised to keep them far apart. He wanted to share with her what he had learned, and instead he was losing her. Vick turned around and held him in her arms.
"Oh Bruce, for God sake! What kind of lies did Joker fed you while you were drugged? You're stronger than this. Wake up, love. Please!" Vicky said holding his face between her hands. He closed his eyes and held to her.
"I'm free now. Free to return to my path…steady, focused." He responded as he looked straight into her sky blue eyes, glinting amongst the clown makeup. "We all have demons, Vicky. Some hurt more than others, some will make you go insane. I don't want to walk that path ever…a lot of people depend on me."
"You will never be like Joker…"
"But I'm letting my life fill with hatred and anger just like Joker did. I need to find myself again. Batman needs focus and Joker said-."
She held him by his shirt, then gently let go and set her hands gently on his chest. "Forget what he said. They were all lies…LIES, Bruce! Please love, can't you see it?"
Bruce sighed and let his shoulders down as he closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes, I do."
"You don't sound too convinced, sweetheart. What else happened between Joker and you to make you think like this?" The voice in Bruce's head got louder…What're you going to say now? Tell her the truth.
"Nothing. It was a long captivity and the drug he used must've affected me more than I thought. I'm sorry Vick. I didn't mean to-." He started to say when she put an index finger on her lips.
"I don't want to hear another word about this. This is not you, Bruce, this is Joker's drug still clouding your mind. You need rest, then you will see it clearly again. The path in front of you is not an easy one, but it will be revealed to you when you get over that damn drug." Bruce nodded as he listened to her. "And I will be there for you…all the way. You understand?"
"Yes. Thank you Vicky." Bruce responded embracing the reporter tenderly as he kissed her on her forehead. She returned the affection and set her face over his chest. His heart beat strong and steady, reassuring her in her sorrow. She wanted to remain there, in his hold, energizing the soul of her friend and one-time lover to recover his path and return to his mission with the same passion that had driven him before.