~Rose's POV~
When I found Batman and Joker in Crime Alley, I got to watch them duke it out. They were pretty evenly matched, with Batman's strength against Joker's agility and insanity. I have to say, there is nothing cooler than watching your dad fistfight the Batman.
"So what do you think of my little girl, Bats?" asked Joker as he dodged one of Batman's fists. "How would you feel about being a Godfather? Or you could be Uncle Batman, I think that one has a ring to it."
"Why did you risk your daughter's life by making her play your demented game?" asked Batman through his teeth as he socked Joker in the jaw.
"Oh Batsy, you can't call me out on child abuse when you put your own kid's lives in danger every night," laughed Joker as he kicked Batman in the stomach.
"I should never have saved you, not in Arkham City, or any other time," growled Batman as he grabbed the Joker by the front of his shirt and shoved him roughly against the wall. "Every time you murder someone the blood is on my hands for not putting an end to you."
"The funny thing is, even if you finally do kill me, it won't change a thing," said Joker with a smug grin on his lips. "There are always a few wild cards in the deck Bats, even if they're not always obvious. You're right about how killing me would save innumerable lives, but there will always be others like me who don't add or take away from the equation. We just are. Life is a big joke, and once you allow yourself to believe that, only then can you be truly happy. I tried so hard to show you, but you would never listen to me." At this, he sounded almost hurt, as though he really had been only trying to help him.
"Go ahead and kill me if you think it will help, but it won't change a thing, because I'm only an agent of chaos, nothing more, nothing less. I may be different from everyone else in the world, but from the wild card perspective, I'm hardly unique, Brucie."
Batman froze for a split second, and I couldn't believe what I'd heard, and apparently, neither could Batman. Bruce, he'd called him. I'd known a Bruce or two in my time in the orphanage, but only one came to mind that could possibly be it. But could Bruce Wayne, spoiled, fancy-pants playboy millionaire Bruce Wayne truly be the legendary Batman, the man whose very name had crooks running scared? At first it seemed impossible, but after a bit of thinking it suddenly made sense. I mean, he probably didn't get that utility belt out of a cereal box. What about Robin then, and the rest of the Bat family? I suddenly realized who Robin was, as well, but quickly shoved the notion from my mind. Who cared who he thought he was, as far as I was concerned, Robin didn't have a face underneath the mask. His face and identity was his mask, and his mask was his true face.
"That's right, Batcake, I know everything! Chuckles told me everything I could ever want to know about you. He didn't mean to of course, he fought so valiantly at first, but those serums do weird stuff to your mind, and combined with the all pain he went through, he was so out of it he was telling me things I hadn't even asked about. Such a nice kid, too bad he turned out the way he did, never saw it coming. But what I couldn't believe is how pathetic you are under that stern and stoic exterior. My greatest adversary is nothing more than a sad little boy crying out for Mommy and Daddy. It's so weak and pathetic it shouldn't be funny, but it's the funniest thing I've ever heard!"
The Joker laughed hysterically as Batman flipped him over onto to the hard, unforgiving pavement and grabbed him by the neck. I watched as he turned his neck sharply to the right, causing it to make a sickening snapping sound. At first it looked like Joker was dead, but then he spoke, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"So, paralysis huh? How am I supposed to dance at my wedding now?" he chuckled. "You don't actually think you can put an end to my pranks and antics this way? I'll have you know I can cause just as much murder and mayhem from a wheelchair." The Joker's voice was strained with pain and his breathing was labored, but I could tell he was enjoying it. Even so, at the same time, I heard the tiniest bit of annoyance. "Even after all this time, after everything I've done, you still won't kill me?"
"It's not my place to take life, even in its lowest form," said Batman bitterly. "A day doesn't go by when I don't think about subjecting you to every horrendous torture you've dealt out to others and then ending you."
"Aww, so you do think about me!"
"But I will not allow myself to stoop to your level, not now, not ever. Why can't you see all the pain you've caused for what it is? Everyone you meet, you either kill them or taint them with your cruelty. You even dragged your own daughter down with you. You created her not out of love, but out of fear and chaos, and forced her to become like the very darkness she was born in. She could have had a normal, happy life, but you just couldn't let her go, you corrupted her and filled her with your own madness. Not to mention, in the process of driving your own child insane you murdered seventeen children and many others, and endangered her life as well. Why?"
"Oh Bats, I can't expect you to understand, you obviously don't care about any of your kids as much as I care about mine. I killed one Robin and tortured another into madness, but you never did anything about it. You beat me up and locked me away, but you knew it wouldn't work. Why, if someone killed my little angel, I'd torture them until they were begging for something as sweet as pain, as merciful as death. Because as you know, I don't like to share with others, and if anyone's going to kill my little rosebud, it's going to be yours truly. But isn't she just the best, Bats? She turned out absolutely perfect in every way. How many parents can say that about their kids? I must be a really great dad, I should write a book. Rosie's going to make a fine replacement someday, just you wait and see."
"Your daughter still has a chance, and I will do everything in my power to save her from you," said Batman as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
"Is that so?" I said as I leapt on Batman's back and stabbed him in the abdomen. He cried out in pain and surprise as I moved down and drove my knife into his knee, causing him to fall to the ground. I was about to go in for the kill when something hit me in the back of the head.
"Ow!" I said as I rubbed my head.
"What do you think you're doing?" rasped the Joker angrily as he threw another piece of broken pavement at my head, which I neatly dodged. "Are you an idiot?"
"I was tired of listening to him talk, not to mention the fact that he just crippled you, I figured you could use some help," I said simply.
"You're ruining everything, I told you to stay out of this!" he growled. "Remember a minute ago when I was bragging on you? I take it all back."
"What was I supposed to do? Watch him escort you back to Arkham and tell a reporter about it?" I asked, kind of ticked off at him. Batman was trying to stand, but with his age combined with the wounds I had given him it was proving to be rather difficult. I noticed a crowbar by a dumpster and swung it at his head, knocking him out so he couldn't eavesdrop on us.
"Everything was going great until you intervened, you stupid girl. Batman wasn't going to take me back to Arkham, because one of us is going to die tonight," he said matter-of-factly.
"You mean Batman is going to die tonight," I stated as I dropped the crowbar at my feet, it clanged against the pavement.
"Come now Snow, neither of us are in our prime anymore, and neither of us are going to live forever. Our game has reached its end, there's a whole new world out there that we aren't meant to be a part of. Sad but true. It's your turn to play now, but either Batman or I must die, one of us must kill the other, and I'm afraid it must be me to go."
"What!?" I said incredulously, certain I had heard him wrong. "Look, I know you're crazy, but now you're not making any sense at all."
"Ever since the moment we first met, when he made me the happy soul I am today, I've wanted to kill him. I wanted to make a real show of it too, I wanted to do before all of Gotham so they could watch their mighty hero fall, but every time he survived I have to admit I was secretly glad, because it meant we could keep playing. Batman is the only real friend I've ever had, because he's the only person who can keep up with me. We understand each other better than anyone else ever could, we're anti-matter and matter, polar opposites yet made for each other. Without Batman, crime has no punch line, and if I kill him now, where will that leave me? I could take over Gotham or destroy it, and no one could stop me, not even Stupid-man. But what would be the point? What am I without my straight man? I don't expect you to understand this now Snow, but crime will be utterly pointless until you find your own straight man."
"Actually, I think I already do," I said as I thought of Robin. I now understood why I had let him live, because he would give me purpose in this new life. Good thing I hadn't gone against my gut and killed him, even though I really wanted to.
"Batman will miss me terribly, which is why I'm going to do him a favor before I pass on. He never did let himself rise to our level because he was too stubborn, too afraid of what he would find. I can't allow myself to die knowing he never got the chance to experience true madness, so I'm going to do the job for him. I'm going to kill myself, and everyone will think he did it. You watch, it won't matter that I'm the most despicable person on planet earth, they'll all turn against him if they think he's gone rogue. They'll think him a monster, as a few already do, and then he'll have no excuse to not let himself embrace the madness. Like a true friend should, I'm going to help him out and lead him down the path of wickedness so he can finally be happy. If Harley asks later, tell her Bats killed me off, she'll lose it!" he laughed.
"Harley's dead. Robin, er, I mean, Chuckles, killed her," I told him bluntly.
His expression shifted from one of mirth to one of fury in an instant. "I take the boy under my wing, give him free tutoring, show him the merrier side of life, and what does he do? He breaks my favorite toy, he kills my pet. That's gratitude for you. But at least it means he's on the right track," he said with a shrug as the anger left his face, for the most part.
He looked me in the eye and said with a broad smile, "I'm counting on you Snow, don't let me down. Come here," he said, and I knelt down before his broken body. He kissed my forehead and said, "Give 'em a good show, make Papa proud. Deliver the punch line."
"I will Dad, I promise," I said, and his smile widened even further at the word "Dad".
"I'll see you in the big asylum in the sky, Poppet," he said as he took his head in his hands and, with his remaining strength, twisted his neck until it snapped. With his final breath his lips curved up in a smile, one of triumph and happiness.
The sun was rising and Batman was beginning to stir. I could hear sirens in the distance, someone must have called the police, and in that moment I knew what I had to do.
I ran out of the alley to meet the police pulling up and shrieked, "The Joker is dead! Batman just murdered the Joker!"
The cops pulled out their guns and pointed them at me and I pretended to be afraid. I put my hands in the air and let tears run down my face as I screamed, "Please don't shoot me! I need your help, the Bat killed the Clown and now he's after me! Batman murdered my father!" I noticed Commissioner Gordon and smiled inwardly as I threw myself into his arms, making myself look distraught and confused. "Please sir, don't let him hurt me."
Gordon slapped a pair of cuffs on me and put me in the back of his car and took me downtown. He went through all the rigmarole of getting my prints and taking mug shots of me looking hysterical. After that was done he took me to a tiny room with one-way glass and a table with a chair for me and him.
"Have your men caught the Bat yet?" I asked quietly, working to keep my expression frightened and suppress my laughter. Gordon obviously didn't trust me, not by a long shot, but right now he didn't know what to make of me. I could also tell he didn't believe my story, but for the time being he had to at least consider the idea that I might be telling the truth while he interrogated me. He seemed to pity me on some level, perhaps he even thought I was capable of saving. How cute.
"They're still searching, but I doubt we'll be able to catch him, we've never done it before," said Gordon as he looked me right in the eye. "But I'm reluctant to believe what you told me. The Batman has always staunchly refused to commit murder, so I find it hard to believe he would do so now."
"Everyone has a limit, Commissioner," I said as I twirled a lock of hair in my fingers. "It doesn't take much to break a man, the Bat could only fight so long. He was stronger and more stubborn than most, but in the end no one is left standing. If you had told me when I was a little girl that one day I would become this, I'd have thought you were crazier than all the patients at Arkham combined, but just look at me now. To be fair, my mind wasn't put together very well in the first place," I said as I flashed him a grin. I was done with the disturbed girl act, because it was no longer necessary. It didn't matter that Gordon didn't believe me, as long as the other cops were spreading the story, whether they believed it or not.
"You're his daughter," said Gordon, as though trying to wrap his head around the very notion. "You're his child, but that doesn't mean you have to be like him."
"True, but maybe I want to be like him," I said. "Say Commish, did it ever occur to you that if you killed me, you'd be avenging your own daughter? An eye for an eye, as they say. Sure, Daddy's not around anymore to appreciate the effort, but it's the thought that counts, right?"
Just then, out of nowhere Nightwing appeared.
"Nightwing!" I greeted cheerfully. "What a nice surprise, I didn't even hear you come in. Will you be joining our little tea party? Gordon was just about to get us some tea, would you like one lump of sugar, or two?"
He ignored me and said to Gordon, "I'll take over from here."
There were many questions in Gordon's eyes, but he silently left the room.
He looked at me with a dark scowl on his face and said "So you're the Marionette."
"In the flesh. Would you like an autograph?"
"You and I both know that Batman didn't kill the Joker."
"But he did kill him, didn't you see the body? He didn't exactly die of natural cause."
"I did see the body, it was you who killed him."
"Now you're really jumping to conclusions. I had no reason to kill my old man, I might have eventually, but not now."
"You were eager to get him out of the way so you could have the spotlight all to yourself, and now you're trying to pin it on Batman," said Nightwing, smoothly concealing his anger.
"Speaking of which, where is the Bat? Shouldn't he be the one interrogating me? Then again, this being his first murder and all, he probably wants to lay low for a while, savor the feeling of bloodshed."
"Where's Robin?" he asked, switching topics since this one was getting him nowhere fast. I knew Nightwing was an excellent vigilante, but my Robin was far above him. At the very least he dressed better.
"You mean Chuckles? Well let's see, he killed my Mom and then we split up. He's probably at a burger joint somewhere."
"Robin would not kill Harley, enough lies," said Nightwing, that controlled anger of his slowly becoming less controlled with every word I spoke.
"How would you know? You didn't even know she was dead until I just mentioned it. Besides, you don't know him like I do, not anymore. He's not the kid you used to know, he had a bad day and now he's one of us," I said as I grinned at him.
"I know him, and he would never sink to your level. Where is he? What did the Joker do to him?"
"So Nightwing, will you be taking over as the Batman now that the original has gone off the deep end?"
His scowl deepened as he said, "There's no need for me to take over."
"But there is. With the Bat and the little Bird gone psycho, I'd say Gotham is running low on heroes. But you know, even if what I'm saying isn't the truth, how much difference do you think it will really make? No doubt the press is all over this story already, and they've been desperately waiting to catch Bats with his hand in the cookie jar since day one. They'll lap this up, and as much as the fair citizens of Gotham won't want to hear it, they'll have to listen, and that tiny seed of doubt will be planted, just like I'm planting it in your head now. I can see it in your eyes, you would never believe that they had gone rogue without solid proof, yet you feel the tiniest hint of fear that I am telling the truth. Before long, everyone in Gotham will see Batman as the enemy even though they've wanted the Joker dead for years, because they're afraid of what he's capable of. Everyone wants the rogues dead, but if Batman starts offing them they'll turn on him without hesitation, he'll become their scapegoat. He represents good, and since everyone is inherently bad at heart, they can't understand good, and they hate it. They hate the rogues but at least they can understand them, but they've been waiting for Bats to slip up whether they realize it or not. Even though they may fight the darkness inside, it's always there, and so they fear the Batman and all he stands for, more than they could ever fear any villain. It's why my father was so fascinated with Bats, because he represented chaos and disorder, everything the Batman isn't, and since he couldn't understand it, he sought to destroy, not the man, but the good within him. You see, in death, the Joker accomplished something he never could have in life, he turned the tables on Bats and made the people believe him to be an evil predator while making himself out to be a martyr. Not yet of course, but give it time and the Joker will be the hero, and Batman will become the villain. So in the end it doesn't matter who killed the Joker, because he's already won."
He got right in my face as he said lowly, "Batman and Robin have not been corrupted, nor will they ever be. Batman has always been at odds with the world, there have always been people who believed him to be no better than the scum he cleaned off the streets. But there have always been people who believed in him, not because he dressed in a cape and cowl and saved the day, but because they believe in what he stands for: justice. I'll admit there is bad in everyone, but there is also good, and that is what we fight for. They believe the world is worth saving, and strive to make it a better place despite the cost to them. The Joker may have won this battle, but he will never win the war, because as long as there is evil, good will rise to fight it."
"Perhaps," I whispered in his ear. "But there is no such thing as good, decency, or morality. Sometimes there appears to be, but in the end it never lasts. It's why Gotham cannot be saved, because of people like me upsetting the established order. There's always a Joker in the deck; my father was nothing more than a catalyst, the spark that set the already volatile Gotham city ablaze, and it's my duty to keep that fire burning bright until I draw my last breath."
He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly got a call on his earpiece. Whoever it was only got out one sentence before he abruptly hung up and made to leave the room.
"Leaving so soon?" I asked.
He paused at the door and said, "They found Robin."
"Oh goodie, now maybe you'll believe what I said. Tell him I said hi. Oh and Nightwing," I said as he opened the door and stepped out. "I nominate Robin to be the next Batman."
He left the room without a word, but I knew he heard me. As soon as he was gone, Gordon and a couple of cops came for me and delivered me to a holding cell, where I would stay until I was taken back to Arkham asylum. Half an hour later a couple of guys came to pick me up, but by then I had decided that I wasn't ready to go back just yet. As we were driving, inside the truck I escaped my cuffs, a trick I had taught myself back in the Joker's mansion in between challenges, and once they opened the doors to let me out I attacked. There were only three guys there to bring me back in, and while I was disappointed at that because it meant they didn't think I warranted any more security than that, at least it would make my escape easier. I picked up a jagged rock from the ground and leapt on the back of one of the guards and sliced open his throat. I then took his gun and shot the remaining two guys, did a flip off the guy's back, and made a run for it, laughing all the way. I could hear alarms going off and guard shouting orders at each other. I saw a car coming my way and ran right in the middle of the road waving my arms like a lunatic, causing them to swerve and run into the fence surrounding Arkham.
"Way to go pal, you just wrecked my new car," I said as I pulled the unconscious body out of the car and hopped in. "Don't worry boys, I'll come back home soon enough," I said with a grin. "But for right now I have important business to take care of with Mommy and Daddy."
~Robin's POV~
As Violet and I entered the mansion through the secret entrance to the Batcave, the house felt very foreign to me, like it did when I first came to live here, like it was a stranger's house. But I knew the truth, I was the stranger.
"Tim!" I heard someone say. I turned and saw Barbara in she rolled up to me with tears in her eyes as she said, "Thank God you're all right, we were all so worried."
She reached out with her hand to take mine and I instinctively pulled back, causing her to raise her eyebrows and pull back her hand as she said, "Tim, what's wrong?"
I didn't know what to say. I didn't want her to see me this way, when I was falling apart and the only thing holding me together was a girl I barely knew. How could I tell her, or Batman and Nightwing for that matter, what I had done, what I had allowed myself to become?
"Robin needs time to adjust, a lot has changed in the past few weeks," Violet explained for me.
"What did the Joker do to you, besides the stuff I saw on TV?" she asked, concern in her voice. "Tim, you don't look well at all, you should sit down. I'm going to call Bruce and Dick," she said as she pulled out a cellphone and began dialing.
"Barbara's been so kind to me," said Violet. "After I gave them the key to taking down the shield she let me move in with her.
"Bruce also offered to let her stay here, but I figured she could use girl company that doesn't include mental patients. Besides, I could use some girl time myself," said Barbara. A small smile appeared on her face momentarily, but was quickly replaced with a look of concern for my well-being. "Sit down Tim, you look like death."
When I didn't move, Violet gently nudged me in the direction of a couch and I sat down and put my head in my hands, and Violet continued. "She's even promised to take me shopping sometime. I've never gone shopping before, I wonder what it will be like," she said in an attempt to distract me. It didn't work, but I appreciated the thought. She didn't touch me or try to speak to me anymore, she let me have my space, and I was grateful for that. She was there for me, but she didn't try to force herself on me like a mother. It was then that I came to think of her as a friend instead of a nuisance, she was like my very own guardian angel, sent to help heal my fractured mind.
It took Nightwing and Batman to a long time to get back, which wasn't unexpected given the fact that Joker was on the loose. Dick arrived first, but when Bruce got back, it was clear that he was injured. He had come in the Batcave in the Batmobile and had somehow made it up the stairs. We helped him onto the couch we had been sitting on. He was still in the Batsuit but had taken off his mask. His abdomen was bleeding and his knee was injured badly, it would definitely need surgery.
"Did Joker do this? What happened out there, Bruce?" asked Dick as he went to get some towels to staunch the flow of blood. How was Bruce going to explain this to the doctors at a hospital? Gone were the days when we could go to Leslie Thompkins for medical treatment. She was in a nursing home, no longer able to do what she loved: help people heal. The thought of her reminded me of Alfred and I felt a pang of sadness. I wished he could be here now, as I had never fully appreciated him when I'd had the chance.
"The Joker is dead, his neck was broken," said Bruce, his face contorted with pain. "I'm not sure who did it, though. Marionette is a suspect, but she doesn't have much motive for killing him. No one else was in there, so I believe he may have killed himself."
"You think Joker broke his own neck? Is that even possible?" asked Violet. "And why would he do that to himself?
"The Joker's strength came from determination and will, he was a strong believer in the old saying, 'if there's a will there's a way,'" said Bruce. "As for the why, I'm not entirely sure. But right now I need to talk to Tim, alone," he said as he looked at me.
As the others left I felt all my shame and humiliation and failure wash over me. I had talked to Bruce in my dreams, but those dreams would be nothing close to reality. I decided to begin the "talk."
"I can't be Robin anymore," I began bluntly. I couldn't believe I was saying it, but it was the responsible thing to do. The only thing to do. "The Joker got to me, I've done terrible things, I'm no longer worthy of being at your side."
"The Joker forced you to murder Jack-"
"I killed Harley and other people as well, all of my own volition, and the only reason I didn't go after Joker is because Violet managed to talk some sense into me. I don't know what I would have done after that. I'd be doing more harm than good as Robin."
Bruce took a while to respond, and when he did, he said, "Tim, have you ever heard the story of the Prodigal Son?"
"Yeah, but I don't see how that applies here. The son blew his inheritance money, I stole people's lives. I'm sorry Bruce, you don't know how sorry I am," I said as I turned away, no longer able to look him in the eye.
"Tim, you made mistakes, you took people's lives, but you won't be doing anyone any good if you choose to give up. You're not ready to go back out there yet, but I have complete faith in you that you will do great things for this city."
"You can't actually mean that."
"I do. Tim, this city needs you, because I can't fight for it any longer."
"What do you mean?" I asked as I turned back to face him again.
"I'm old, Tim. I've tried to deny it, I've ignored the aches and pains, but I can't keep this up. Marionette could have killed me with incredible ease out there today, I don't know why she didn't. But she did give me this wound, and even if I wasn't already in bad shape this wound will likely cripple me. My time as Batman has come to an end, yours is just beginning."
"I won't become Batman, Nightwing deserves that honor. I let myself fall into madness, and I have too much blood on my hands for that. I can't do it anymore Bruce, it would be a mistake."
Bruce nodded and said, "So be it. I still believe you could be a great Batman, but I won't force it on you. I would never force this life on anyone."
It meant a lot that Bruce had such faith in me. It gave me a bit of hope that maybe he was right, maybe I could be the next Batman. But no, I wasn't deserving of that privilege, I had already accepted that.
"Bruce, this can't wait any longer, you have to go to the hospital," said Barbara as she wheeled herself into the room.
Dick and I helped Bruce out of his suit and into his street clothes and helped him to the car. His alibi would be that he had been mugged, and in a city like Gotham, who was going to argue that? Dick climbed into the driver's seat and sped off. Barbara, Violet and I needed to stay here to figure out what had happened to the Joker and what this would mean for Batman, and for Gotham.
"Violet?" I asked. "Just out of curiosity, how did you know who I was?"
"It was easy. I saw you on TV as the ward of Bruce Wayne once at Arkham, and it just seemed obvious to me. It wasn't difficult to discover the secret identities of Batman and Nightwing and Batgirl, either. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me, it always has been."
"Thanks Violet, for everything," I said, and I really meant it.
"Just repaying a debt long overdue," she said simply.
Author's Note: The final showdown between Batman and Joker was based on the comic, The Return of the Dark Knight. Also, Tim's extreme makeover was inspired by the movies Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker and Under the Red Hood. If you haven't read/seen them, go and do so immediately and quit depriving yourself.