"I'm glad the familiars are playing nicely again," commented Tetch, as Dinah and Teekl chased each other around the room where Alice and Arleen sat, doing their homework. "It would be terribly awkward if they weren't friends anymore just because they tried to kill each other last night."

"Well, this is Gotham – you can try to kill each other one day and still be best buds the next," said Joker, helping himself to a cookie. "Look at me and Batsy."

"It does seem kinda weird to just go back to doing homework after we saved the whole city," commented Arleen. "It's a little too heroic for my liking, and it doesn't feel good."

"Well, we won't make a habit of it, princess," said Joker, patting her head.

"Yes, I promise you, I won't be summoning any other witches or anything that powerful for you to go up against," said Klarion, as Teekl leapt back into his arms and began purring. "I think from now on, I'll stick to fun chaos like petty vandalism, not the kind of chaos that could destroy life as we know it."

"Yeah, it's a little dark for a supervillain," agreed Joker. "It's like wiping out half the population with a snap of your fingers and stuff. How can the audience root for somebody like that? But somebody like me, who just pulls pranks on an unsuspecting public in order to bring a smile to their miserable little faces, I mean, how could you not love me?"

"I'm sure people manage it," said Tetch, dryly.

There was a knock on his door, and he went to open it. "Jonathan, you're back!" he exclaimed, beaming at his friend, Jonathan Crane, who entered the room. "How was your time away?"

"It was lovely, thank you," replied Crane. "The whole family had a wonderful time, and Annabel learned about a thousand new facts about the Puritans that she's eager to share with anyone who will listen. I just stopped by to bring you your souvenir from Salem – it's a witch's broom. It's a little kitsch, but I thought you'd appreciate it, since you're always reciting that passage from 'The Walrus and the Carpenter' about seven maids with seven mops sweeping the sand off the beach."

"How very thoughtful," said Tetch, taking it from him. "Although I don't believe real witches ride brooms, do they, Klarion?"

"Not where I come from," retorted Klarion. "And frankly, it's a little insulting to my culture to suggest that we do."

"Now Klarion, there's no need for ill manners when someone has brought a gift," said Tetch. "You must forgive him, Jonathan – do come in and have a cup of tea and a biscuit."

"How was everything here?" asked Crane. "I imagine Halloween was very dull and uneventful without the Scarecrow around to frighten everyone."

"Actually, it was like one of your fear gas attacks, only better," said Joker. "See, there was this witch who cast a spell which freed everyone from repression, so they were all killing each other, and then they tried to kill us because I guess unrepressed, their desire to see us dead overrode their fear of us, but fortunately we managed to beat the witch with the help of the witch kid here, and so the spell was broken, and now everything is back to normal, with only the select few causing terror and chaos. But you really should have been here, Johnny – you coulda seen what your repeated fear gas schemes would be like if they were ever successful, which of course they never are."

"A witch?" repeated Crane, staring at him. "Are you serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" asked Joker. "She was the real deal. Frankly, you couldn't find a more appropriate figure for Halloween – it was definitely a Halloween to remember, and a Halloween the people of Gotham won't forget for a very long time, a year true terror ruled the streets."

"But surely Batman would have foiled her," said Crane. "The way he always foils me…"

"Nope, he was away with his Justice League pals somewhere," interrupted Joker. "Say, you really should have been here, shouldn't you? Without Batsy around, it would have been child's play to finally put your fear gas the city scheme into action – I know nobody here would have stopped you. But I'm sure you had a great time visiting your boring historical sites and learning about dead religious people instead – that's always fun," he added, clapping him on the back and chuckling madly at the furious look on Crane's face.

"My goodness, look at the time!" exclaimed Tetch, glancing at his watch. "I have to get over to Wayne Manor in time for tea – I'm bringing Alfred a new teapot since I broke his over that rioter's skull."

"No worries – we'll clear out," said Joker. "You're almost done with your homework, aren't you, sweets?"

"Yeah," agreed Arleen, gathering up her books. "Would it…be ok if I went with you to Wayne Manor, Uncle Jervis?" she asked. "Just to see how Damian's doing…"

"Yes, certainly, my dear," said Tetch. "Joker, I'm sure you're welcome to join us, or you're welcome to stay here with Alice and Klarion and the familiars."

"Nope, I've really had enough of witchcraft to last me a lifetime," said Joker. "No offense, kid," he said, nodding at Klarion. "I'll head back home and rescue the remaining Halloween candy from Harley. Don't want the kid getting fat."

"Charming, as ever," sighed Crane, rolling his eyes. "I'll bring the family round later to tell you all about the trip, Jervis."

"I look forward to it," said Tetch, showing him and Joker out. "Klarion, you and Alice behave – no magic, please," he said, reaching for his hat as Arleen followed him out.

"Of course not, Uncle Jervis," said Klarion. He waited for the door to shut, and then turned to Alice. "Now, you were saying something about a drink that makes you shrink as small as a mouse? I'll see what I can do, but we'll have to lock up the familiars, just in case..."

…

"Alfred, could you get that please?" asked Bruce Wayne, as the doorbell rang. He was still confined to his wheelchair, and sat sullenly in front of the TV in the living room while Damian sat on the sofa next to him, also sullen. He had returned last night, and before he could say a word, his father had launched into a tirade about how dangerous and reckless it had been to let those kinds of people into his house, and risk discovering his secret. He hadn't wanted to hear about how Morgaine was defeated or anything Damian had done to help – he didn't let Damian get a word in at all. Alfred and Jason had retreated to the kitchen and stayed out of the incredibly awkward showdown between father and son, and things had continued to be uncomfortable from that moment to this.

Alfred opened the door, and beamed when he saw Tetch standing there. "My lord, this is an honor…" he began.

"None of that, please, Alfred," said Tetch. "I brought you a teapot, to replace the one I broke."

"How generous, my lord, but it was not necessary," said Alfred. "You broke it in defending me…"

"But one shouldn't be without a proper teapot for too long, wouldn't you agree?" interrupted Tetch.

"I would agree, my lord," said Alfred. "And coincidentally, it's almost time for tea. Won't you come in and we'll put this to its proper use?"

"That sounds lovely," said Tetch, as he and Alfred headed toward the kitchen. "I brought along Miss Joker - I hope you don't mind, but she wanted to see Master Damian."

"Leenie?" said Damian, leaping to his feet hopefully as Arleen entered the living room. "What are you doing here?"

"Like he said, I wanted to see how you were doing," she said, smiling at him. "And your dad…I hope he's feeling better…"

"Yes, I feel fine, Miss Joker," snapped Bruce. "Thank you for your concern towards myself and my son, but we're both fine. You may leave now," he said, glaring at her.

"Um…ok," said Arleen, slowly. "I'll…just go then."

"No, Dad, she doesn't have to go," said Damian. "I mean…I'd like her to stay."

"And I'd like her to leave," snapped Bruce. "She's the daughter of the man who has tried to kill me more times than I can count…"

"So was my mother!" snapped Damian. "And you didn't seem to object too much to her, at least, not until after I was born and became a burden on you!"

"You two clearly have some things to talk about, so I'll just go…" began Arleen.

"No, we don't have anything to talk about!" snapped Damian. "My father doesn't talk, and he doesn't listen – he just lectures and criticizes and expresses his disappointment of other people when they have emotions or feel even the slightest bit human. But then what can you expect from a playboy billionaire who wears a mask of idle luxury and frivolous happiness to hide how miserable he really is?"

"This is awkward – I should go," repeated Arleen, as Bruce just glared at Damian. "Daddy always says when things get awkward in a comedy routine, the best thing to do is either kill the audience, or beat a hasty retreat before they can start throwing things at you. And I certainly wouldn't kill either of you, but the atmosphere in here is starting to grow a little uncomfortable..."

"Leenie, please, you can stay…" began Damian.

"I said no, she can't!" snapped Bruce. "Just respect me for once, Damian!"

"The way you respect me, you mean?" demanded Damian. "By not listening to me, by not caring about my life or what I want to do with it unless it fits in with yours? Why should I respect you when you don't show even the most basic amount of respect to me or my friends?"

"Because I'm your father!" shouted Bruce. "And you don't know how lucky you are to have one!"

"Well, sometimes I wish I didn't!" shouted Damian.

Bruce stared at him, furious and hurt, and Damian glared back, equally furious.

"I'll…see you at school, Damian," said Arleen slowly, breaking the uncomfortable silence as she headed for the door. "Bye. Boy, what a dysfunctional relationship," she muttered under her breath after she shut the door. "I'm glad my family ain't nothing like that."

"I hope you're happy," muttered Damian, as the door shut. "Oh wait, you never are, are you?"

He stormed past him, and Bruce caught his arm. "Damian, look, I…"

He drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "I am…I…I'm irritable because I'm laid up like this, and I was completely powerless to stop that chaos last night. I hate being powerless, but I shouldn't take my frustration out on you. I'm just…scared."

"Yeah, you're scared that your precious secret will be discovered, that your enemies will find out you're Batman, and that you'll have to stop pretending to be a hero," muttered Damian.

"I'm scared for you," retorted Bruce. "I don't want anything to happen to you. When I'm out there in Gotham, I can control what happens to me, and how I respond to danger…but I can't protect you, not in a fight, and not in life. And that's terrifying. I lost the only other people I ever loved because I couldn't protect them from a mugger gunning them down in an alley…I can't go through that again with you. And I don't want you getting involved with that Joker girl only for you to get hurt."

"It's my life, Dad," retorted Damian. "You can't control it, and neither can I, really. Leenie's dad right about that – the world is a random and chaotic place. But we can't avoid engaging with it. And yeah, I might get hurt, just like you've gotten hurt so many times. But you keep putting on that mask, night after night, and get yourself hurt again. I've always…admired that about you. And the only way I can learn that kind of resilience is to get hurt myself, and to know…that you're always there to help me get back up."

Bruce said nothing. "Yes, I will be, Damian," he murmured. "I will be."

"But I don't think Leenie's gonna hurt me," continued Damian. "You don't know her, but she's…just great. Not like her dad at all – he was a real pain in the ass last night."

"Language, Damian!" snapped Bruce. He sighed. "But tell me about it."

Damian rolled his eyes. "No, seriously, tell me about it," said Bruce. "I wanna hear…what you all did last night to stop that witch."

"You didn't wanna hear last night," muttered Damian.

"I was wrong," said Bruce. "And I wanna hear now. I know it'll make me real proud of you, Damian, not that I'm not already."

Damian shrugged. "I didn't do much," he muttered. "Not compared to everyone else. Not compared to what you would have done."

"I went up against her and got all my bones broken," retorted Bruce. "That's what happened to Batman. But his son found a better way. So tell me about it."

Damian looked at him, and slowly sat down next to him. "Ok, Dad," he murmured. "Well, according to her, it all started in Camelot, centuries ago…"

The End