Batman: Year 1

by nothingshady

Set on the very first day as Batman, this story explores the man and mind of Bruce Wayne as he tries to accept himself as Batman. Dreaming of it since a child, when facing the reality, the struggles he faces are nothing like the dreams he had. *The first 4 chapters I wrote when I was 17. I wanted to keep it like that because the story is the same and you'll see me grow as a writer*

Batman

Year One

I

"Crime in Gotham has skyrocketed ever since the dawn of the Falcone crime family. Dozens of murders in the past months of policemen, and even people associated with the crime family have occurred." He watched the television program as he held his blackish-blue cowl. He gripped it tighter and tighter as he saw the city he was trying to reclaim fall. His brows were at an angle, implying his inner and outer anger. He continued to watch."I dunno about you , but I'm scared, and I think I'm speaking for the people of Gotham."

"You're correct Mr. Ryder; I'm afraid for my family as well. Ever since the Falcone's arrived in Gotham it's been absolute chaos between the turf war in Gotham. Some say it's the Falcones' city, some say it's the Maronis'. Mind stating your opinion?"

"This is my city now," he said as he pulled the cowl over his head. His butler, Alfred Pennyworth, approached him, holding a tray of chicken and rice.

"Master Bruce, I know that you're starting tonight, but does that mean you must start on an empty stomach?" Bruce turned to him as he attached his cape to his cowl. His cowl covered everything but his mouth and the nostrils of his nose. His eyes appeared to be a devilish white, moreover, you saw nothing of them. His pupils were hidden, and it appeared he only had the whites of his eyes. His body was gray, so gray it was almost black. The symbol that covered his chest looked somewhat like wings. The very top of the symbol attached to the bottom of his cowl, making it seem his head was the top of the symbol. The tip of the wings attached to his broad shoulders, for when he glided, his cape would be the wings. The very bottom tip of the symbol went to his solar plexus, making it the only thing to truly imply what he was. A creature of the night.

"Not now Alfred. I need to go. Is the car ready?" Alfred carefully set down the tray he was holding, and reached over slightly for the remote next to the massive supercomputer. He pressed the top of the button, and the middle of the floor opened up. The giant Bat-Symbol split right down the middle, and a giant, but yet very lengthy car arose. The hood of the car was shaped as a Bat, which split open, allowing Bruce Wayne to enter.

"Sir, do you think they'll have a problem finding out what you call yourself?" He was utterly ignored, moreover, was given a stern look. Alfred slightly chuckled under his breath, as he watched the hood of the car close. "Don't drive too fa-!"

Bruce slammed on the gas, and went 0-80 in under three seconds. Alfred's surprisingly good comb over flew back, getting messed up. His tie flew over his shoulder. He spoke under his breath.

"Be careful… Master Bruce."

He scanned the road in front of him. The Batmobile was pushing one hundred miles per hour, but was as silent as a mouse. He was passing cars, as he had his very first lead in a case that he knew that would need mandatory manual labor. He had a lead for a Falcone shipment of guns going to Falcone himself at his "undisclosed" shipping yard in North Gotham, near the mouth of the Gotham River. As he looked at the monitor in the middle of the steering wheel, he saw he was near his first target.

"I should make an entrance," Bruce said to himself in an almost whisper kind of tone. He hit a button on the steering wheel, and took the chip that came out of the wheel. He put it in the back of his cowl, and blinked his eyes three times. The white eyes that appeared normally became a bright transparent white. You could barely see his piercing sea blue eyes that appeared behind his mask. His true mask. Not the mask he wore.

He ejected himself out of the hood of the car, and touched the cape with his gloves. It became a thick hardened fabric, which carried his weight across a short distance. He landed on the cranes that were in the harbor. He caught the cable, and flipped himself around it. He watched.

The chip he put in the back of his cowl allowed him to control his car. He forced it through two walls of a building made of concrete. The meeting between an unknown group and the Falone's, was immediately interrupted from the impact of a three ton hunk of metal that just busted through the wall.

"Wait for a reaction- then strike."

"WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT IS THAT!?"

"Now."

Bruce shot himself onto the cable of the crane. He ran across the wire, and jumped at almost a ninety degree angle downward. He flipped upwards, and threw two bombs full of non-lethal smoke to the group awaiting him at the bottom of the building. The bombs went through the windows of the two story building, landing near them. As soon as Bruce crashed through the window, the bombs exploded. Non-lethal gas immersed in the room. Bruce landed on the ground, as his cape cried along the ground, cascading the ground around him in a blackish-blue color of sorrow.

Many things happened at once during his first encounter of his internal war against organized crime. They grabbed their M4s, and their pistols, as he threw his first punch. His first punch among the millions he would throw. They had no idea who, or what to them, was attacking. They only saw a shadow in the mist. He back kicked one thug's jaw, forcing his mandible out of place, and knocked his wisdom teeth out. One aimed towards the shadow among the mist, and was embarrassingly bested. Bruce punched his lower stomach, grabbing the barrel of the M4 as he did so. He did a slight spin, and used the gun as if it were a bat, and slammed the butt of the gun into the side of the thug's skull. He jumped back, using the cape as a stunner, disorienting the two thugs he stunned. He jumped up slightly, and banged their heads together. As he fell he brought their heads downwards, smashing them against the cement. Two remained. The two men were terrified. They shakingly tried to reload the magazines of their M4s, and watched the creature crouch-run towards them. His cape dragged against the hard floor, and all they could see was his white, devilish eyes. He threw his batarangs, and hit both in the hands, forcing them to drop their guns. Bruce flying kneed one of the thugs in the middle of his chest. He coughed up blood, and slowly fell to his knees. He elbowed the last thug in the middle of his mouth, breaking his first four teeth. Out of the six, the last thug was the only one still conscious. He grabbed him by his collar, and slammed him against the wall. He deepened his voice, almost as if it were Satan himself speaking.

"WHERE IS CARMINE FALCONE?! WHO SENT YOU THESE GUNS!?"

The man was consumed by his fear. His front four teeth were shattered, and sprawled out on the floor. He tried to struggle, he tried to escape. Bruce held him tightly, making it impossible for the thug to escape. The response was-well, let's say he tried.

"I DON'T KNOW!" The man said with a new lisp. "THE BOSS DIDN'T MAKE IT CLEAR WHO THEY WERE! IT WAS JUST A BASIC DEAL!" All the words that came out of his mouth were as useless as they were unpronounceable. Bruce threw him against the wall, and the pure force shot him forward an entire foot. Bruce punched him straight in the nose, launching him back towards the wall, knocking him out.

Bruce's cape cascaded around him, seeing only black. His body was covered, and all you saw was the white eyes of his cowl. He stood over the man. As he was about to scan the thug's entire body, a phone suddenly rang. He saw the front shirt pocket of the thug light up. He slightly jumped backwards, cowering behind the broken rubble of the left front side of the building. He scanned the entire situation.

It's a text, he thought to himself, either the boss is checking in, or..? Worse. He's ordering a kill. I've seen this before from an Irish crime lord in Ireland… Rival boss texts, then his crew kills the others. Classic screw over. I've subdued the others, but who knows- he might have more on the roof. I have to tread lightly. Look at the thumbnail, gain as much info as I can before I plan out what to do next.

He climbed over the rubble, and slowly walked towards the phone in the thug's front shirt pocket. He remained calm, even though he wanted to be nervous. He knew that if he was, he'd die.

When he arrived at the man's lit up shirt, he stared at the phone, as it rang again. The second ring was when Bruce knew what it was. He was right.

"Confirmation," Bruce thought to himself. He slapped his cape completely behind him, as it dragged on the ground slowly going back to the heel of his foot. He kneeled down on one knee, and stared at the thug's shirt. A third ring. He quickly grabbed the phone, and checked the thumbnail of the text.

"I'm sorry." Bruce looked behind him, seeing a flashing red light at the bottom of the Falcone's vans. He grabbed the thug, putting him over his shoulder, and jumped through the warehouse's window. The entire building went into a fiery explosion, launching the roof of the building throughout the sky and painting the night's sky a black orange. The new moon shined from the explosion, and the flames formed a beautiful reflection from the Gotham River.

Bruce landed, rolling on the ground with the thug on his left shoulder. He watched the building erupt in flames, as some of the roof landed on the ground around him. His eyes winced, as he remembered the other five thugs he couldn't save. He slowly stood up, whilst hearing police sirens. He thought to himself.

"Dammit. I need time to search for clues." He was in so much shock, he didn't even feel the phone in his left hand. He made a fist, and felt the phone. He checked his hands, and saw the device. Bruce placed the phone in his front belt pouch, as he hit the back of his cowl, calling the Batmobile. Then he remembered. The Batmobile was destroyed, and broken.

"I should consider a titanium body for the car." He looked back, seeing the red and blue lights approach him. He kicked the thug onto his back, and placed a note on his chest. As he walked backwards, he grabbed the grapnel gun secured in the back holster on his utility belt. He grappled on top of the crane across the one he jumped off of, watching the fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars arrive at the inferno in the building of his first battle.

His cape went in the same direction of the cold Autumn night. The police exited their cars quickly, with their guns drawn, running towards the building. The firemen and the paramedics ran together, one to put out the fire, and one to help the thug on the floor ten feet away from the flaming building… But one middle-aged cop walked to the actual person in need of help. He kneeled down, and his square black glasses slightly slid down to the bridge of his nose.

"This guy's out cold," the policeman said to the paramedic. "Wait? The-there's a note." Another cop, the deputy of the commissioner, approached the policeman.

"What's it say, new guy?" He asked. The cop holding the note turned around, standing up as he did so. His auburn red hair slightly parted towards the middle opposed to the right, as he read the note on the thug's chest.

"It says, 'I will fix this'. Then there's a picture of a bat on the bottom." He held the picture slightly back, inspecting it more. "Huh. What do you think that means?"

"Probably the guy who did this-ah, sorry, but what was your name again?"

The cop slightly winced inside, as he had told his new boss his name four times throughout the day. He sighed quietly, as he repeated his name for the fifth time in one day to one man.

"My name is James Gordon, sir. But, please, call me Jim."

II

Bruce jumped off the crane, becoming one with the darkness. As he glided, the night's sky was cascaded with the orange from the fire, and the red and blue from the police sirens. His cape shook as if it were seizuring from the force of the cold Autumn night. Gliding over the bay, and seeing the orange reflection, brought a cringe to Bruce Wayne's face. He landed in an alleyway, rolling on the ground, and hiding behind a wall, as police cars checked the alley way. He took a deep breath, exasperated. As he peeked over, he saw a police car drive slowly down the road, searching for any shimmer of hope for a witness. Bruce slightly sighed, seeing as someone had to take the blame.

I was hoping I'd last a little while longer being anonymous, but… I need them to know who did this. It wasn't me, but it'll only take a short period of time for them to find out it was Maroni and Falcone. I need them to think it was me, just for a little while, so I can have more time investigating on Falone.

Bruce stood up, as his cape lifted slowly with him, wrapping around him.

He became exposed to the light glaring down the street. As the cop finally reached the alley, the car stopped, seeing a mysterious figure stand in the middle of the flashlight of the car. The cop exited out of the car, drawing his gun, as he approached the bat-like man.

"STAY THERE! DID YOU SEE ANYTHING FROM THE EXPLOSION ACROSS THE RIVER!?" Bruce did not budge. He stayed standing, retaining his brooding and rough nature. He slowly looked up at the policeman, exposing his entirely white eyes. Bruce zoomed in to his name tag, and his badge number. His name tag read, "Bullock, Harvey." His badge read, "Lieutenant". He had a heavy Gotham accent, annoying and scratchy. "YO, YOU HEAR ME TALKING TO YOU OR WHAT?" Bruce took one step forward, causing Bullock to point his gun at him. Bruce stopped. He put his back foot forward, lining himself up, and made his cape swallow him.

"NOT ANOTHER STEP SIR, OR I WILL SHOOT YOU!" Bruce analyzed his current situation carefully, breaking it down slowly.

If I try and disarm him now, it's suicide. I can take one more step, then he'll pull back the hammer, trying to intimidate me. I'll only have half a second.

Bruce took another short step, and he was right. Bullock pulled back the hammer, trying to intimidate Bruce. Bruce backhanded the gun out of Bullock's hand. The gun hit the wall of the building next them, landing inside a bag of trash. Bullock grabbed his hand, and screamed his accusation.

"YOU JUST ASSAULTED A POLICE OFFICER, YOU ARE UNDER AR-" Bruce punched Bullock across his face, knocking him out in one punch. The sheer force of the punch launched him onto the sidewalk ten feet behind him. The fedora cap on his head flew up almost five feet in the air, as Bruce caught it. He walked towards Bullock, grabbing his shirt collar, and bringing him towards his face. Bullock slowly regained consciousness, seeing the dark creature of the night, and was only able to see one distinct figure. His white eyes. Bruce grappled on top of the building they were next to, bringing Bullock with him. Bullock screamed at the top of his lungs, pleading with the creature who held him.

"HEY MAN, I'M SORRY I YELLED AT YOU, REALLY I AM!" Bruce pushed him to the ground of the roof, towering above Bullock. "I'M SORRY, PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!" Bruce's face slightly became nothing, seeing the fear he put into a civil servant. He stood up, deciding he would explain who he was.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Bruce said. Bullock tried to reach for the gun by Bruce's feet, slowly but also fast. He ran towards the gun, but was immediately pushed down to the ground, sliding face first to the rail at the top of the building. Bruce crouched, grabbing the gun, and threw it into the Gotham River. Bullock slowly got up, inspecting the creature in front of him. He simply acted like nothing happened, and answered his initial question.

"So what are you gonna do, eh?" Bruce slowly walked backwards, still looking at Bullock.

"I'm going to fix this." Bullock tied the pieces together. Earlier, his CO told him of the drawing at the bottom of the note. Telling Bullock and the rest of the cops of Gotham city to look for any kind of, "bat." Seeing as a giant Bat-man stood ten feet from him, he easily tied the pieces together.

"You're the one who burnt that buildin' down, huh? The Bat at the bottom, that was you?"

"I did not burn that building down," Bruce said without moving his teeth.

"Well, who did, huh?" Bullock asked.

"The Falcones and the Maronis had a deal. It went south."

Bullock slightly grabbed the fedora cap Bruce had thrown on the ground, and wiped it off. He put it on, and fixed it to make it straight. He had a snarl on his face, and his scowl remained the same from before. He wiped the mud off his uniform again, and turned towards the dying fire of the warehouse.

"Well, I don't believe you," Bullock said, not staring at the creature next to him. Bruce swallowed, accepting that no matter how hard he tried- he was the bad guy. There was no changing that. He turned his head slightly, closing his eyes, and just… accepted it.

"You don't have to." He said, backing up as he did so. Bullock turned towards him, watching the creature. Bruce wallowed in inner pain, but showed nothing. The pain of not being accepted as he was, but he wasn't complaining. He just accepted it, bottling it in the back of his mind, and moving on. That shows how broken a man truly is. If they've been so used to being hurt, or being the bad guy, and they can just bottle it up, treating it as if it were nothing. That shows how truly messed up a man's life has been.

"Where d'ya think you're going? You're under arrest," Bullock said, slightly stepping towards the man. Bruce slightly smirked, not even a smirk actually. It just brought a fast breath, almost a laugh. Broken people don't laugh. But, it was more of an amusing statement that someone he just knocked out, and knocked on his ass said that.

"You're unarmed." Bruce said to Bullock. Bullock moaned, and whispered to himself.

"God dammit." He turned, looking at the Gotham River. Bruce leaped towards Bullock, thinking to himself as he did so.

"I'm sorry." Bruce punched Bullock in the back of the jaw, hitting the nerve between his ear and jaw. Bullock flew off the building. Bruce thought to himself, freaking out that Bullock was falling to his death.

"Shit." He skydived off the three story apartment complex, reaching his arms towards the police officer. He wrapped his arms around him, and flipped mid air horizontally. He went back first into a car on the street, indenting the roof of the car and destroying the windshield. The broken glass painted the street and sidewalk. Bruce moaned, and pushed Bullock off him, onto the street. Bullock landed back first, still being knocked out from the punch. Bruce slid off the roof of the car, landing front side on the ground. He remained there for five seconds, trying to find the will in his heart to get up and ignore the pain. The kevlar plating between the suit saved his spine from breaking. He pushed up, and began sitting on his knees. He brought his left hand to his forehead, trying to regain his composure, and continue before the people of the apartment complex came out to check on their broken car. He slowly stood up. He cracked his neck, trying his best to become relaxed again. The air bubbles popped, sending a chill shiver down his spine. The same was done with his knuckles, cracking the air bubbles in them. He was back. He grabbed the grapnel gun in the holster on the back of his utility belt, grappling on top of a building a few blocks down the street. He remained on the roof, reaching into the front pouch of his belt. He grabbed the phone, and took off the back, grabbing the SD card to keep the memory of the calls and texts from before. He began to dial for a taxi, taking off the cowl over his true mask. He dialed the number to his home, Wayne Manor. Belonging to his father, Thomas Wayne, and his mother, Martha Wayne. His butler, Alfred, answered the phone.

"Wayne residence."

"Alfred. Pick me up at the apartment complex North of the Gotham River. I'm on the roof. Be here in twenty minutes."

"Pardon me sir, but may I ask why? I'm either growing old and blind, but I do remember a drivable three ton hunk of metal leaving the manor almost three hours ago."

Alfred's sarcasm made a vein grow on Bruce's left temple. A slow four second sigh exited Bruce's mouth, in the anger growing like a balloon about to explode.

"Just pick. Me. Up."

Alfred slightly chuckled under his breath, hanging up the phone. Bruce undressed, revealing his playboy philanthropist persona. When he removed the chest piece, he immediately fell and was brought to his knees from the pain of his back. He tried to ease the pain. Grinding his teeth, clenching on the railing next to him, and making a fist, anything to rid the pain. His white shirt he wore underneath his Bat-suit was colored a dark maroon. Every attempt to stand up was a failure, as he fell down to his knees. He remained on the ground, with his suit pants and boots still on, giving him more weight, giving him more chance for failure. He reached for the railing one last time, as he dug the last piece of energy he had in his body. His will kept him conscious. He pulled the railing, and brought himself up to his knees again. Slowly but surely, he pushed down on the railing to raise himself up. He screamed internally at the top of his lungs, but the only noise he made externally was a groan.

When he removed his cowl, blood funneled out of the left side of the mask. He touched the left side of his face, bringing his hand back to his eyes, seeing his own blood on the tips of his fingers. He had his chest piece and cowl off, as he only had his leg plates and belt left, but he could bare no more. He waited for Alfred, hiding behind a dumpster in the alley's of the apartment buildings. He got on one knee, with his cowl in one hand and his chest plate in the other.

Minutes passed, as Alfred pulled up to the corner that Bruce told him to go to. Bruce slowly stood up, as blood dripped in a trail behind him. Alfred exited the car, opening the door for Bruce.

"So?.. How did the first day go, sir?" Bruce's frown turned to a slight, not even slight, a barely existent grin and got into the car, lying down and dropping his cowl and chest plate on the floor of the car. He put his arm over his eyes as he spoke to his oldest friend.

"About as expected."

III

Morning came and Bruce was in bed, and Alfred opened the blinds. Bruce groaned, and rolled over as Alfred set the tray of food on the table next to Bruce. He peaked at the bruises on Bruce's back, rolling his eyes after seeing the bruise being a dark purple.

"One night and you already need a chiropractor. Give it a month and it'll be like those 10 years you left me were for nothing." Bruce sighed, as he gave a real explanation.

"I was careless… Punched a cop off a building, and I had to save him." Alfred slowly exhaled through his nose, not even considering an actual chuckle, and raised his left brow.

"Well at least you saved him, heaven knows nobody else in this god forsaken city would." Bruce tried getting up, but the pain from his back multiplied. He moaned and moved his right arm expressively to the left side of his back. He grinded his teeth, as he took off the sheets covering him and slowly tried to get up. His feet hit the ground, and Alfred walked toward him.

"Need help, Master Bruce?" Alfred reached his hand out, but Bruce immediately shunned his palm away. Bruce got up, and sauntered towards the food on the table ten feet from him. He grabbed the orange juice and drank from it, cringing at the apparent bulk of pulp in the juice. Alfred looked at Bruce, watching him put down the glass and wipe his mouth.

"I said no pulp." Alfred chuckled under his breath as Bruce left the room, turning to the left. He stood near the grandfather clock, opening the glass door that protected the interior, and put his thumb in the middle of the clock. The clock opened and Bruce entered the space behind the clock, exposing the whole half of Wayne Manor that only three people knew existed. Bruce walked down the stairs, as Alfred followed him.

The cave Bruce was walking through was an old mining shaft in the late 1800s. The cave has a vast amount of water from the flooding that happened, making the usage of computers unreliable, (but Bruce Wayne, being the multi-billionaire that he is, can afford waterproof computers with change he finds between his couch basically). Bats infested the cave, obeying their king as he walked down the stairs.

Bruce sat down on the chair in front of the plethora of computers he was going to use for the next eight hours. He reached over and grabbed his utility belt off the table to the left of him, taking the phone from the night before out. He winced slightly from moving to suddenly, aggravating the pain in his back. He swallowed, rolling his eyes while doing so, trying to relieve the pain.

"What is that, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked finally to arrive at the room, being out of breath from the vast amount of stairs he went down.

"A phone I found at the scene last night," Bruce leaned back in his chair, as the data from the phone uploaded to the batcomputer, "the whole reason why it went south."

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, finally being in homeostasis.

"I don't get it… the deal was fine. Nothing went wrong till I showed up, did they know I was coming? Impossible… Unless they saw me..? If they did, how?" Bruce rubbed his slight stubble on his face and chin, debating on what the most logical explanation. Alfred chimed in trying to add to his thought process.

"You know, Master Bruce, they installed cameras around the docks a few years ago to try and prevent robberies… Maybe the criminals behind this were using those to scope out how the deal went." Bruce's eyes opened widely, moving his mouse to another monitor, looking through the files of Gotham's security cameras. He found the file of the Gotham Docks, but luck wasn't on his side.

"Dammit… Locked out." Bruce got out of his seat, looking at the time on the clock, and it was only being eleven in the morning.

"You know, Bruce Wayne hasn't made an appearance at his own company in quite a while. Perhaps to fill the time, why don't you give Master Lucius a visit?" Bruce contemplated in his head for a brief moment. Was he going to break the ultimate rule he set for himself, being that he never left as the Batman during the light of day? No, of course not.

"That's a good idea, Alfred," Bruce chuckled slightly, speaking after doing so. "One night and I already lost the car… Let's see what happens next."

Alfred drove Bruce through a sea of paparazzi to the front of his own company, Wayne Enterprises. Mostly built around R&D, but Bruce likes using his company to give back to Gotham. Once a month, he gives back to his community and throws annual charity balls and uses his own money to give back to his beloved city. It's one of the few things as Bruce Wayne he still enjoys.

Lucius Fox, the head of the Research and Development crew, awaited Bruce at the front of the building. Lucius was an older black man, his age touching the late fifties. His face was infested in moles, probably from his father, who also ran the R&D department with Bruce's father, Thomas. Lucius's hairline was beginning to recede, revealing the age spots on Lucius's head. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and black tie, and black dress pants and shoes. He had his very own set of Wayne Tech cufflinks that Bruce gave Lucius for his birthday last year. Lucius smiled as Alfred set the car in park, and walked towards the back right seat of the vehicle, opening the door for Bruce.

"Lucius! My man!" Bruce said, exiting the vehicle. Paparazzi took what seemed like billions of photos of one man. Although Bruce wasn't seen all that much, besides the once a month charity ball, he was still the most famous man in Gotham City. Anyone with a cell phone and a camera wanted a picture of him on their phone, especially those he'd inspired. Him being the Batman was for him, but him being Bruce Wayne was for the people.

"It's great to see you Bruce. Now please, can we get the hell away from the cameras? I swear, I don't know how you don't get seizures from all this light." Bruce laughed from the comment, making a great picture for a starting out paparazzi to send to his editor. Bruce was a master of disguise when it came to being Bruce Wayne publically, knowing exactly how to smile and what direction to smile. He had to keep his image to the public, for he was the White Knight of Gotham City. If he was anything less than that, he'd be just someone who fell to the city. For that to happen, everything his parents worked for, and everything he worked for, would be for nothing.

"Sure, Lucius, I'm sure you have loads to show me inside." Bruce said, as Alfred opened the right door of the building for both Lucius and Bruce.

The interior of Wayne Enterprises was predictable. One item there was probably worth more than the earnings of a simple commodity of Gotham made in their entire life. A fountain that shot water up fifty feet in the air stood obnoxiously in the middle of the lobby. The luminous rays of a neon green and grey, with a mix of basic white lights, shined throughout the building from the cast amount of Wayne Tech logos. Phone calls from the hundreds of employees just in the lobby rang, giving Alfred a slight migraine from the buzzing and ringing.

"How does one not go insane working in this lobby, Lucius?" Alfred asked, putting his left middle finger on his right temple, and his thumb on his left one.

"You know Alfred, the key is that we only hire people that are insane." Bruce chuckled slightly from the sarcasm that Lucius said.

"I can see the headlines now, Lucius. 'Wayne Industries Shut Down From Lack of Sanity.' I'm looking forward to reading it in the paper, while I leave you in charge of finding out how I can get more money." Lucius laughed, opening the door to the R&D wing of Wayne Enterprises. They all walked towards the elevator, waiting for it to arrive. The doors closed as the two minute elevator ride to the top began. Lucius cleared his throat as he began to start his sentence, almost feeling the need to stop himself.

"I… I saw you on the news last night." Bruce became the Batman when he heard that. How he usually was while being Bruce Wayne was gone, as his true self came out.

"That's sort of what I'm here for, Lucius. One it's good for publicity, but the other I actually need help."

Lucius smiled, saying, "You're just like your father, Bruce. You're never only here for one thing." Bruce chuckled under his breath, as the comparison of his father warmed his heart,

"I need the backup car. It's sort of…" Lucius interrupted Bruce, already knowing the answer.

"In a million pieces in the Gotham Bay?" Bruce grinned, and nodded his head.

"Something like that." The elevator dinged, as the crew exited. Bruce inspected the R&D department that was his personal favorite department of his company. R&D stood for Research and Development, meaning with the amount of research they do, development was the end result. The one story part of Wayne Enterprises R&D belonged to was split up half half. Half research, half development. The elevator goes to the median of the two, and Bruce inspected both simultaneously. Lucius explained the layout of R&D to Bruce, as Bruce surveyed the room.

"This half of the building is the research half, they're currently looking up how photons react to neurons and why exactly they rest when interacted with. The development team is developing a laser to test these ideas that the research team came up with." Lucius snickered and turned towards Bruce, shrugging his shoulders while doing so. "But you don't really care about that do you, Mr. Wayne? You're only here for yourself and to get a good headshot or two, right? Follow me to see the things you actually care about." Bruce followed Lucius as he and Alfred went into his office. Lucius whispered to Alfred while Bruce was slightly behind him.

"How do you deal with that disinterested look all the time?" Alfred chuckled in a whisper like fashion.

"When the only person he talks to is himself and I for days in and days out, you sort of get used to it." Lucius chuckled, opening the elevator in his office leading down into his secret R&D wing of Wayne Tech. All three entered, as the elevator lowered them down.

The wing that Lucius was taking them to was the old and unrenovated wing of Wayne Tech. Lucius took it off the records when Bruce reached out to him years before about needing his help for an idea he had for Gotham. One night in and he already needed Lucius again.

"Well," Lucius said as the elevator opened, revealing the vast wing of Wayne Tech few knew about. "What do you think?" A car the size of a tank stood in the middle, as Bruce grinned exiting the elevator.

"Well here she is. Pretty much the same thing but- stand back please." All three stood behind a cement wall with eye holes to view what was in front of them. Lucius handed the two ear muffs and eye glasses to negate the sound and protect their eyes. Lucius grabbed the detonator on the table, and smiled at Bruce and Alfred. He hit the detonator, exploding the C4 around the car. Bruce didn't even flinch, but Alfred winced from the vibration.

The smoke cleared as the tank was still intact completely. Lucius laughed, taking the earmuffs and glasses off.

"Not a scratch on her." Bruce walked towards the car, inspecting it. He wiped his finger on the right side of the car with barely any ash being present from the explosion. Alfred moved his finger in his ear, trying to stop the vibration inside. Lucius walked next to Bruce, talking purely about the car.

"The whole car is completely a titanium alloy. Wheels are made entirely out of a polycarbonate sent from the Military base in Fort Stanwix. The glass is the same glass police use in interview rooms, with some brief adjustments to make them a little more bullet proof. Everything about the car is invincible except for one key aspect of it." Bruce raised his right brow for he already inspected the entirety of the car and found no weak points.

"And what's that?" Lucius walked past Bruce, speaking while next to him.

"The driver," Lucius walked to the desk across the room, as Bruce and Alfred followed him to it. "But that's why we'll make him invincible. I know you've only used the prototype for one day and all, but I couldn't help myself." Lucius hit the button hidden beneath the desk, revealing the components within. The desk separated and a locker raised from the ground, opening and revealing the suit within. "This thing will stop a bullet from killing you. It'll feel like a punch from a bodybuilder no doubt, maybe even break some ribs or collapse your chest, but you won't die. A knife is still a knife to you, so avoid those. Basically wearing this, you won't die from what you'd normally die from." Lucius and Bruce grinned simultaneously, as Bruce checked the time- three pm. He looked towards Lucius, remembering his third intention of going to Wayne Enterprises. He pulled the phone from a night before out, handing it to Lucius.

"I need you to decode that for me." Lucius checked the phone, inspecting it. He nodded his head.

"Shouldn't be a problem. Anything else?" Bruce nodded his head, handing him a flash drive from the Batcomputer. Lucius and Bruce walked towards the computer next to them, as Alfred inspected the Batmobile, still trying to stop the vibration in his ear. Lucius put the flash drive into the computer, powering it on. It brought him to the main screen of Gotham Security. Lucius raised his brow to Bruce, turning in his chair to be more towards him.

"Are you implying that I break into one of the most secure places in all of Gotham?" Bruce grinned, folding his arms together.

"Something like that." Lucius licked his lips, and turned towards the computer beginning to type. He spoke while staring at the computer to Bruce and Alfred who were already escorting themselves out the room.

"And when do you want this, Mister Wayne?" Bruce and Alfred entered the elevator as Bruce spoke while it closed .

"You know my schedule, Lucius… When the sun sets."

IV

"Master Bruce," Alfred said as Bruce put on his new and improved Batsuit. "If I may say so, you look more dashing in this suit than the last." Bruce grinned as he put the cowl over his face. He blinked three times to get his eyes comfortable with the little eye holes that the cowl had. Bruce walked down the stairs towards the Batmobile, as Alfred checked the Batcomputer for a new email.

"Ah, Master Bruce! Master Lucius just sent the file, he must have just finished." Bruce jumped onto the roof of the car, opening the door of the car on the roof, as he eased his way inside. The panel that held the Batmobile in place adjusted towards the opening in the wall, as Bruce accelerated through it. He turned on the monitor in the central console, adding Lucius to his call list with the Bluetooth that was in his cowl. He dialed his number with Lucius almost immediately answering.

"What can I do for you Mister Wayne?" Bruce spoke to Lucius as he turned onto the highway in front of Wayne Manor. He accelerated even faster, engaging the after burner feature, making the car go faster than Bruce knew it could.

"What did you find in the security footage?" Lucius cleared his throat before speaking to Bruce.

"Well… I see you making an entrance and kicking some ass. I'm skipping forward cause I don't really care about the beatings these men are receiving. I see you just standing there, slowly walking towards a knocked out one. Then you grab the phone, save one of them and that's it. The camera goes black." Bruce was almost to the docks, and he already knew what he needed. He needed to be at the docks and see what he didn't see using the security footage from the cameras.

"Lucius," Bruce said as he exited the car, being at the docks. "Send me the file. Link it to my cowl's inner computer, I'll take it from there." Bruce walked towards the burned down building from the night before. He stood at the base of the building, surveying the scenery around him.

"Sure can do Mister Wayne." Lucius sent the file to Bruce, and Bruce immediately brought up the file. He grappled to the crane he stood on the night before, surveying the area around him.

"What exactly are you going to do with the file, Mister Wayne?" Bruce glided to the building across from the ashes of the night before, landing on the roof.

"If I can't see why it went south, maybe I can see where it went south." Bruce pressed the button on the left side of his cowl, trying to find where the main console for the cameras in the docks was located at. He found it quickly, as he grappled towards it. He broke through the window on the roof, scanning the room for anyone. He stepped towards the main console, turning it on. He connected the computer with his cowl, allowing him to actually see what happened in a 3D environment, enabling him to be where those events happened. The recordings became animated as Bruce scanned the area, finding where the people from the night before stood. Bruce hit the button on the side of his cowl, making the recording fast forward for he only wanted to get to the point. When the time in the top left corner of his cowl read 1:47AM he knew that he was close to what happened. He slowed down the fast forwarding and just let time itself run. He watched as the door beside him burst open, and the people monitoring the docs became startled. He backed up slightly as he wanted a clearer picture of the scene. The security guards got up with, interestingly enough, only one man walking in. The security guards rushed, but the man shot both of them in the chest with a silenced 9mm pistol. Bruce's eyes winced as he witnessed two men lose their lives for nothing, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He watched the man closely, as he ran to the dying security guards, getting in their face as he laughed. Bruce could hear nothing from the security footage, but he could tell the type of laugh it was. A gruesome, grotesque, and gnarled laugh, making Bruce cringe from just the mere thought of it. He watched the man kick the dead body across the face, as he circled back towards the main console. Bruce walked to the equivalent spot he stood at, as he saw himself. He watched himself go through the ceiling of the building that was now ash, then turned, watching him turn on the security camera. The man watched Bruce as he beat the thugs in the building that is now ash. He watched him lean over, in only what he could assume, in a laughing matter. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, still laughing. Bruce walked backwards, as his cape trawled on the ground in front of him. Bruce inspected the man as he grabbed a cell phone out of his back pocket, texting to another phone.

Bruce paused the simulation as he went back to the building of ash. He was able to walk through it for it being a simulation in his cowl. He inspected what he saw the night before, seeing himself grab the phone. He knew now he found the man he was looking for. Bruce turned around seeing the angle of the man staring at Bruce. He paused the simulation again, grappling to the building where the man resided in. Watching as the man left the building, ultimately escaping the blast of the explosion, Bruce followed the man as he walked away. Bruce followed the man, seeing him laugh as the explosion painted the night sky and he watched from a distance. He hunched over as Bruce saw tears fall from the man's eyes, and Bruce could only imagine what kind of demented mind could find any laughter in the death of other men. Bruce's mouth laid slightly open as his eyes sobered at the man in front of him. The man walked away, and Bruce swallowed as he followed him down the alley further. Bruce turned the alley, seeing the man go down a manhole. Bruce sighed as he phoned Alfred, ending the simulation of the security footage.

"Alfred…" Bruce said as he still had the image of the man laughing in his head. His voice had a tone of distraught as he spoke to his oldest friend.

"Sir?.. Are you alright?" Bruce's heart was moving at an alarming rate for he was unaware of what he was about to face. He studied insanity, but he never encountered insanity. He knew everything about the insane, but was he truly ready to face them?

"I-I'm fine." Bruce said, regaining his train of thought. "I need the mapping of Gotham's sewer system. The man I'm searching for went under there. Acquiring the information of where he's at will help immensely. Send the map to the cowl, and stay in touch." Bruce didn't even allow Alfred to speak, hanging up the phone and dialing for Lucius Fox.

"Mister Wayne, I figured I'd hear from you again tonight. How can I help?" Bruce jumped down the bottom of the sewers, using the map that Alfred just sent to his cowl. He walked forward, as he began speaking to Lucius.

"Lucius, I need a favor. I need you to inspect the security footage that links to this map." Bruce used the buttons on the side of his cowl, sending the file that Alfred sent him.

"Is this?.. Is this the map of Gotham's sewer system? You expect me to look through all this in how long?" Bruce chuckled, as he surveyed the sewer, mapping himself through it using the map he put at the corner of the cowl's computer.

"All I need you to do is see if anyone with a purple suit came out of them last night. Simple enough?" Bruce heard Lucius slightly chuckle, as he saw the footage play in his cowl. Bruce saw the man with the purple suit exit the manhole, but Bruce only inspected what was around him.

"Lucky for you Mr. Wayne, that was one of the first ten that I looked through." Bruce smiled, as he climbed the ladder up the manhole, being where who he was searching was the night before.

"The Ace Chemicals building? How can one hide in here, it's one of the most secure buildings in Gotham." Bruce entered the building through the main door, being unlike his usual self and being direct other than finding the most obscure way of entering a building.

Upon entering the building, Bruce felt an unusual feeling. He imagined the laugh in his mind, but facing it head on for the first time… It scared him. It was only his second day on the job, and he was already scared of what he was about to face. Absolving the fact that he was in over his head was abysmal. It was something that needed some in depth thinking, which is something he could not do. He knew that over thinking would lead to death, ultimately leading to failure. Failure was unacceptable.

Bruce was snapped out of his thoughts, as he heard a faint voice in the distance. He walked to a corner, peeking into the room he heard the voice from. He saw a short man, being only about four foot eleven, maybe pushing closer to five foot. He wore an all green suit, with an overly exaggerated top hat on his head, with red and green feathers peeking out the side. His orange hair curled behind the hat, giving him obnoxious hat hair. One thing that Bruce noticed of the short man was his unsavory teeth. His teeth were bigger than Bruce had ever seen, making him uneasy at the sight of him. Another thing he noticed, revealing the inner child within him, was the inspiration of Alice in Wonderland. His outfit was an obvious allusion to a specific character in the book, but the whole lab was a wonderland itself. Horribly and schizophrenically drawn pictures of cats littered the walls, but one thing that stuck out to Bruce was one specific wall of the lab. Writings of red ink of 'Alice' drawn thousands of times. Bruce squinted specifically at that wall for a brief time, slowly crouching down and moving closer towards the criminal. Bruce was able to hear more clearly what the man was saying.

"I don't want to be among mad people," the man sang while putting a device on a man's head, "because being insane is much too feeble. But we can't escape the madness. We're all mad here; I'm mad; you're mad." The man that the criminal was putting the headgear on spoke to the criminal, in a rather worried voice.

"Ar-are you sure about this, Jervis? Last night, it really hurt, I… I really don't want to go through that again." Jervis slightly chuckled, reaching for a teapot and pouring the man a glass of tea.

"It's no use going back to yesterday, because you were a different person then. Who you are today is what will put fear in men." Jervis said sipping on tea shortly after. Bruce moved closer to Jervis, inspecting him even more closely.

"I know Jervis, I know, but… I don't know how much more of this I can take, just… My mind it's... " Jervis slapped the man, stepping up on his step stool to make eye contact.

"If everyone minded their own business, the world would go around a great deal faster than it does. If you continue to complain, I will not be as nice." Jervis said not rhyming which Bruce noticed bothered him.

"I'm sorry Jervis, just…" Jervis snapped, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"ENOUGH! YOU WILL OBEY WHAT I SAY OR ELSE YOU WILL NEVER SEE YOUR PRECIOUS DAUGHTER AGAIN, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?" The man flinched from the sudden screaming, swallowing and nodding his head up and down. Jervis adjusted his coat, clearing his throat while doing so.

"Okay… Now I'm going to increase the frequency this time, know that what you see will only be in your mind. It's not real, it's only surreal… Hehe…" Jervis laughed under his breath, ending his sentences with a quote from the book. "Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality." The man swallowed, preparing his body for the torment he was about to face. Jervis grinned as he cranked the frequency to as high as it could go. He hit the button, and Bruce went out of hiding, running towards Jervis. The man with the headgear screamed at the top of his lungs, grabbing the seat he sat in, and his eyes rolled to the back of his eyelids. Jervis turned his head towards Bruce, screaming and running away.

"Who are you!?" Jervis asked Bruce, as Bruce chased Jervis through the lab. The man screaming stopped, as Bruce put his focus on him. Jervis hid from Bruce, laughing as Bruce tended to the man. Bruce put his hand on his neck, searching for a pulse.

"Low… About thirty beats per minute. He'll be fine." Bruce took his hand off his neck, turning towards Jervis. As soon as he did that, Bruce heard a slight laugh from the man in the headgear. He turned, watching as the man's laugh increased as Bruce's eyes widened, hearing the laugh he feared for the first time in person. He swallowed and backed away from the man, as he raised himself out of the chair. He grabbed the knife on the side of the table, laughing while doing so, and swung at Bruce. Bruce evaded the swings, countering with blows to the body and face. His cape lugged on the ground around him, expressing the fear he had within himself from the laugh. Bruce stared into the man's eyes, his emerald green eyes, as they were a light maroon where they should have been white. Jervis's laugh increased as Bruce evaded the knife for a final time. He caught the man's wrist, twisting it back and breaking it. He kneed him in the stomach and grabbed him by the collar, throwing him onto a table back first, knocking him out. Jervis's laugh dispersed, as it turned into a sinister chuckle.

"Oh well that was unexpected… Men!" Men with top hats and masks of bunnies jumped from the catwalk of the building, charging Bruce. Bruce hurdled the leader, kicking his back and hitting face first into a wall. Bruce waited for them to approach him, as he ducked down and swiped their legs, forcing them to fall down. Bruce punched one of them in the stomach, causing the man to cough up a slight amount of blood. Bruce lunged backwards, landing behind the three men charging after him. He ducked as one tried to punch him. He grabbed his wrist, and applied pressure to his elbow with his other arm, dislocating it out of place. He pulled on his dislocated arm, throwing him into the other two men watching Bruce do that to the thug. The two other thugs were ingested with fear, as Bruce walked towards them.

"HEY MAN, I-I AIN'T SEE NOTHING MAN. JUST LET ME BE!" Bruce kept approaching the two men as they backed up. Bruce heard Jervis chuckle, as it increased with every step he made. He turned and saw Jervis running towards the man with the headgear.

"Wake up, wake up, your time is up, beat this bat until you run out of luck." Jervis reconstructed the man's headgear, as the man woke up, and turned towards Bruce. Bruce turned quickly towards the two thugs, knocking them out by slamming their heads against the wall behind them. He ran towards Jervis as Jervis ran away and through a door. Batman stopped and looked at the man, with his arm dangling by his side. He bent down and grabbed the knife by his feet, and aimed it at Bruce. Bruce quietly exhaled through his nose as he waited on his opponent to strike. The man laughed at the top of his lungs, as he charged Bruce. Bruce waited for him to be close, as the laugh echoed in his mind and the fear within himself was trying to be more present than Bruce was allowing it to be. He swung the knife, and Bruce knew he had little time for him to catch Jervis, for he batted the knife out of his hand and headbutted him, knocking him to the ground. Bruce quickly turned and went through the door that Jervis went through.

Bruce walked through the door, and was immediately hit with the neon green the room emitted. He looked down, seeing the vast array of chemicals that was produced nationally by the Ace Chemicals Corporation. Bruce's eyes winced, as he took more steps forward. He saw Jervis trying to open a door that was locked at the end of the hallway. Bruce stopped in his place. His cape covered him from head to toe, and the only thing Jervis could see was a creature in an all black suit with a cape.

"End of the line, Jervis." Bruce made a fist, as Jervis turned around and spoke to Bruce for the first time face to face.

"Curiouser and curiouser, for I have a villain. It would be so nice if something made sense for a change. I was wondering if you could talk… Hehe, you're thinking about something, and it makes you forget to talk. Is that right?" Bruce took a step forward, as Jervis took out a switch from his coat pocket.

"Ah, ah, ah, not so fast. One more step, aaaaaand…" Jervis pointed up, and Bruce saw a girl tied up, hanging over a pit of chemicals. Bruce made a fist, immediately looking back at Jervis.

"Don't do it." Bruce said, giving Jervis the evil eye through his cowl. Jervis laughed, walking towards Bruce, prominently flaunting the detonator in his left hand.

"Tst, tst, tst, no, no, no, Alice is on trial for her daddy's sins. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't be here in the first place. Isn't that right?" Bruce turned around as he saw the door open behind him, and the man carrying the knife entered the catwalk. He walked towards Bruce, with his nose dripping blood onto the ground. Jervis took out the switch that controlled the headgear, hitting it again, being at the maximum frequency. Bruce heard the electricity that emitted from the headgear, and the man yelled. He yelled for about three seconds, and that yell turned into a horrific laugh. He looked down, and back up at Bruce. He slowly walked towards Bruce, as Bruce melancholically fought back. The man swung the knife, as Bruce finally was able to talk past the laughter that emitted and echoed throughout the room.

"You can fight this. Look up- isn't that your daughter? Fight it, don't let it control you; you're better than this. This isn't you, I can tell. Whatever he's done to you, you can overcome it." Bruce batted the knife out of his hand, and grabbed the man by the collar. He held him up, and reached for the headgear on his head, and the laughing dispersed. The man closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, and the first thing he saw was his daughter.

"ANNA?!" He said as he saw his daughter hanging above a pool of chemicals. Bruce dropped the man on the catwalk, as he turned toward Jervis. The man ran as close as he could have been to be closer to his daughter. "ANNA, I'M GOING TO GET YOU DOWN, I SWEAR HONEY! DON'T PANIC, DADDY IS COMING!" Jervis slammed his foot on the ground multiple times, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"IMBECILE! I GAVE YOU A DEAL, AND YOU STAB ME IN THE BACK!?" Bruce power walked towards Jervis, as Jervis backed up, flaunting the switch in his left hand. "NOT A STEP CLOSER, OR I DROP THE GIRL!" Bruce stayed put, looking over his shoulder as he saw the man go up the stairs to be closer to his daughter. Bruce took one step, and Jervis gave him one more warning. "I'LL DO IT, I SWEAR!" Bruce stopped again, speaking to Jervis.

"Tell me… You're talking about killing your Alice. What's the Mad Hatter without Alice?" Bruce took a few steps forward, reaching in his belt for his batarangs in the back pouch of his utility belt. "I'll tell you Jervis… All you are without Alice is insane." Jervis's eyes twitched, as he yelled at the top of his lungs.

"I'LL SHOW YOU INSANE, YOU DEMENTED BAT!" Jervis hit the button and Bruce threw a batarang at his face, knocking him out cold. The girl dropped towards the pit of chemicals, as her father yelled.

"ANNA!" The father jumped off the stairs, diving head first for his daughter. Bruce jumped off the catwalk, grappling to the ceiling above him, swinging towards the two of them. The girl screamed at the top of her lungs, as her dad caught her mid air. Bruce grabbed both of them, grabbing her father's collar, swinging to safety. Bruce carried the two of them with all his might, as the force of the swing was too strong for his one grapnel. All three hit the wall, as Bruce lost grip of the man's collar. The two fell, with his daughter's back towards Bruce and the father going back first into the pool of chemicals. Bruce fully extended with his opposite hand, barely able to grab the little girl's ankle. The little girl had her father's hand, holding him up with all her might. Bruce grunted as he tried to lift both of them. The little girl began to scream, as she spoke to her father.

"Daddy, I…" The little girl grunted as she tried to lift her father up, finishing her sentence while doing so. "I can't hold on much longer." The little girl cried as her father gave a slight grin. Bruce tried lifting both of them, but all of his energy was spent; his grip was giving out. The man smiled at his daughter for one last time, as a single tear ran down his face.

"It's okay baby girl… You were brave, I'm proud of you." The man's glove began to slip off, as he spoke to his daughter for the last time. "I love you Anna… Be a good girl for daddy's sake… Okay?" The man's glove slipped off his hand, as the little girl screamed at the top of her lungs.

"DADDY!" The little girl watched as her father plummeted into the pool of chemicals. Bruce's eyes widened, as he too screamed.

"NO!" The man fell back first into the emitting light of green chemicals below them. Bruce closed his eyes, using his last amount of energy in lifting the little girl up. He put the girl on the catwalk, as she gripped the glove of her father in both her hands, putting it near her heart. Bruce lifted himself up, as he watched the man sink to the bottom of the pool of chemicals. He swallowed as he put his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I…" Bruce stopped talking, and swallowed as he saw the man get sucked into the vent that flooded into the Gotham River. He exhaled, finishing his sentence to the little girl. "I'm sorry." Bruce turned to Jervis as he laid unconscious across the catwalk. He walked towards him, and lifted him up. Jervis woke up, rolling his eyes as he remembered where he was.

"Where… Where is my white rabbit?" Bruce's eyes widened, as he threw him against the locked door four feet behind him. The man grunted, as he hit the ground. He looked up at Bruce, and his vision became blurred.

"Who are you?" Jervis asked as Bruce grabbed him by his collar and lifted him off the ground.

"I am vengeance." He threw the Mad Hatter across the catwalk closer to the little girl, as she ran away and into the other room. Bruce walked towards the Mad Hatter as he too tried to run away. Bruce used his grapnel and hit his foot, as Bruce dragged him menacingly closer to him. "I am the night." Bruce grabbed his ankle and twisted him, grabbing his collar and lifting him six feet off the ground. Bruce looked into Jervis's eyes, as he yelled at the top of his lungs. "I AM BATMAN!" Bruce elbowed Jervis in the side of his neck, knocking him out cold, dropping him on the catwalk. Batman breathed heavily as he took out all his anger on the Mad Hatter. He dialed the phone of the police, giving in an anonymous tip.

"GCPD, how may we be of service?" Bruce talked fast and to the point, giving what they needed to know.

"There's something waiting for the police at the Ace Chemicals building near the Gotham Bay. Get here soon or it might not be here later." Bruce hung up the phone as he walked towards the Mad Hatter. He flipped him around, and put handcuffs on him. He leaned him against the railing, and exited the room, seeing the little girl crying into the glove that belonged to her father. Bruce walked towards the little girl, as she looked at him with doleful tears caressing her face.

"Will- Will I ever see my daddy again, mister?" Bruce's eyes and face began to form in a way one's face would form if he or she were to cry. He exhaled internally, as he got on one knee and put his hand on the girl's shoulder. Batman swallowed, as he began to say one of the hardest things he would ever have to say in his entire career.

"No…" A single tear ran down Bruce's face, as he moved towards the little girl, sitting next to her. The girl leaned on Bruce, crying into his chest. He put his arm around her, patting her on the back. He brushed her blonde hair with his hand, rocking her back and forth.

"Everything's going to be alright… You're safe now." Bruce heard police sirens in the distance, knowing he had to leave soon. The police sirens grew stronger, as they were just outside the building. He heard the doors open, and he talked to the girl one last time.

"Remember what your father told you. You were very brave today, and he was so proud of you. People are coming that will help you more than I can. Go with them…" Bruce backed up, as the little girl stared at Bruce, gripping the glove in her hands and put it near her heart. Bruce swallowed as the Police entered the room, and he stared at them.

"FREEZE!" Bruce slammed a smoke pellet on the ground, as he grappled out of the building, bursting through the glass ceiling, gliding towards the buildings across the street.

He watched as they brought the little girl out of the building, with a blanket around her. He zoomed in with his cowl, seeing her father's glove still gripped firmly with her hands and near her heart. The little girl looked up, as she saw Batman as the myth he is. All she saw was an illusory aspect of a man, and two white eyes in the shine of the night's sky. She saw his cape dance in the wind of Gotham City, as he slowly backed away from her sight. The little girl waved at Batman, and the cop escorting the girl to the cop car stopped in his place.

"Who are you waving at, sweetie?" The little girl turned towards the policeman, and smiled briefly, which was shocking to the policeman for her father just died in a horrific matter. The little girl gave off a sweet chuckle, as she stared back to where the Batman was.

"My new friend, Mr. Gordon… The Batman."

V

"They're calling him 'The Batman'. A vigilante running amok in the streets of Gotham City. Police say they first saw him after an anonymous call given to the police three weeks ago. An officer says he saw him, and here's an interview the officer gave earlier today."

Bruce swallowed, shifting in his chair in the batcave, rubbing his slight stubble as he watched the TV. He exhaled, as he glared at Alfred that stood at his side.

"I saw him, yeah. He was about seven feet tall, and lanky. His arms went down to his ankles man, and he could fly. I saw him, I swear. He lifted himself off the ground, then I couldn't see him no more." Bruce chuckled, rising from his chair.

"Sir," Alfred said, walking next to Bruce, "I noticed that you chuckled back there. May I ask why?" Bruce grabbed his cowl, staring at it before he turned to see his clock tick past 10pm.

"The whole point of this thing, Alfred, is that I'm not even supposed to exist. I'm supposed to be a myth to these people, and to the people that believe I'm real, hopefully they'll think twice before they do something they're not supposed to." Alfred lifted his bottom lip above his top, nodding his head while doing so.

"I see…" Bruce put his cape around his costume, as he turned towards the lookout of the Batcave. He just stood there, hardly moving, as Alfred watched. Alfred walked up to him, trying to do anything to keep him out of his thoughts.

"What are you planning to do tonight, Master Bruce?" Bruce's heart sank to the bottom of his chest, as he stared at the bats flying below him. His voice cracked as he began to speak, for he didn't even want to speak in the first place.

"I- I failed. I have no room for failure while doing this, and I failed that little girl." Bruce stared back up, looking at Alfred in the corner of his eye. "I need to make this right." Alfred almost immediately spoke after Bruce said what he said.

"Master Bruce, I don't believe you've failed. From what you've told me, in all honesty, I believe you've succeeded. I mean the Mad Hatter, or whatever the news is calling him, is behind bars now, the little girl is saved and in a nice group home for the time being, and-" Bruce interjected before Alfred could continue.

"I failed that little girl, Alfred!.." Bruce slightly raised his voice near the end of that sentence, taking a slight pause proceeding it. He put his hands to the bridge of his nose, cringing at his believed to be failure. He continued shortly after he took his right hand off. "I had both of them in my hands… I was weak a-and slow. I… I couldn't do it for Christ's sake. It was my first time where I had the chance to really do something and I failed. I failed trying to save that cop, which I barely did before I threw my back out, and now I failed that little girl." He walked towards the railing that boarded the walkway of the Batcave, staring out past the waterfall roughly 200 feet away. He gripped the railing even tighter, closing his eyes and looking down. He breathed quietly but in short, sporadic bursts before he spoke, as his mind scrambled to find the words to say what he was thinking. "That little girl's father melted in that pit of chemicals and I witnessed it alongside her. I didn't even think about covering her eyes, because… I wanted to cover my own." Bruce turned to Alfred, crossing his arms and began to lean against the railing. "I couldn't really make it out, but whatever was left of him was shot into the vent that leaks into the Gotham River… She witnessed her own father get prepped to be fish food, and have the same home with all the other Gotham criminals… That's the thing, Alfred, he wasn't a criminal - He was a good man! He tried his best to save his daughter, but he couldn't and that's why I had to." Walking over to the computer, he stopped as soon as he got next to Alfred, turning to him in his pause. "I saved her, and I defeated Tetch, but I couldn't do everything, Alfred… Batman has to be perfect, and I couldn't be. I know it's a process, I know..." Bruce used his left hand to push his hair back before he finished, "but I need it to be a fast one. My way of justice… Becoming this, 'Batman', is not going to be popular." He put his hand to his head, rubbing his eyes. "I'm not even doing it for popularity, I just…"

Bruce sat down, and put his head into his hands. Alfred squinched his lips together, pulling up a chair next to Bruce's. Alfred put his hand on Bruce's back, rubbing it in circles before he finally spoke to him.

"Y'know your father was devastated after he lost his first patient." Bruce paused for a second. He lifted his head up as he leaned back in his chair and looked Alfred in his eyes as he continued. "It was before you were born, of course, and I was still a young man. Only slightly older than he was, yet I looked up to him on so many levels. He had charisma; he had the looks… But most importantly, he had a heart bigger than anyone I had ever met. This girl, roughly the age you are now, 28, just had her second child. I don't remember the specifics, but she became very sick after her delivery. Thomas stayed at the hospital with her for roughly 29 hours straight… Despite all his efforts, she passed away." Alfred swallowed, turning his head towards the waterfall. He looked down, closing his eyes shortly after. He looked back at Bruce, as his face was illuminating the room with pure interest. "He came home about three hours later, and collapsed into your mother's arms crying. He cried into her arm's in the middle of the foyer for everyone to see, including me and the rest of the staff. His cries could have been heard from the furthest part of the Manor, yet…" He looked Bruce dead in the eye as he delivered the true meaning of the speech. "He eventually stopped. Your father knew that he gave it his all, but despite his efforts she passed. He eventually came to terms that some things are out of our control, and even though we may cry and we may delve into the darkest of pits, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Your father knew, Bruce, that he tried his best and even though she died at the end of it, it wasn't because of him. Some things really are meant to be… And even though it's unfortunate that that little girl is without her father, you tried your best. I'm sorry, Master Bruce, I really am, but at the end of the day even the Batman will lose some patients… Just like the father that raised him."

Bruce looked down into his lap. His hands were sweating, and his eyes teared up. He wiped them off with his forearm, standing up and walking back toward the railing in which he watched the waterfall once more. He stared down into the trench below, as one stray tear that was left behind fell to its helpless demise toward the black chasm that was below.

"I knew what I wanted to be at fourteen years old, Alfred... When I was twelve, kids my age wanted to be astronauts; some lawyers like their father's." Bruce put his hand to his cheek, feeling his slight stubble while he thought meticulously on what he wanted to say next. "I admired my peers that wanted to become lawyer's, because they wanted to invoke justice at its core, yet as I grew older, I saw that ideal stray further and further from what I thought to be true. The older I grew, I saw them sell out for money, or invoke justice on those that needed to be helped, not punished. I saw right through the justice system by the time I was fourteen, and I-I didn't know what to believe anymore. Those that broke the laws were free to do what they wanted to because they had money, yet those that stuck with the law were constrained by it because the money was inevitably in the palms of those that broke it. At fourteen, I knew then what I had to do. I had to be above the law. I had to transcend the very construct of the law itself to protect the people that needed it. Not only with fear, but with knowledge, technology, and like everything that needs to get done… money." Bruce walked towards the Batcomputer, grabbing his cowl on the desk.

"You're right, Alfred," Bruce said as he put his cowl on, looking at Alfred, "it probably wasn't my fault that her father died… Deep down I really want to believe that. But despite everything, one thing is true." Bruce walked towards the Batmobile, and opened the hood with a button on the side of his cowl. He put his hand on the hood of the car, turning back towards Alfred before he entered the vehicle. "If it's not my fault, Alfred, I'm going to go talk to the one other person who is at fault."

VI

Three Weeks Ago

Flooding out into the Gotham River, from the pipes of the Ace Chemicals Building, came a man in a suit. Flailing his arms around due to the pain he felt and the coolness of the river on the brisk Autumn night, the man finally came above water. He swam to shore with the water steaming due to the burning chemicals that corroded his flesh. When he finally sank his fingers into the sand, he yelled out a scream of excruciating proportions. His screams echoed off the walls, causing the birds roughly a hundred feet away to fly out into the night's sky. He gripped tighter and tighter into the sand for the pain kept rising and rising, and his screams kept getting louder and louder.

His calls for help went unanswered as the beach he washed up on was in the slums of Gotham. The area of Ace Chemicals was in the literal cesspool of the city. The plant poured its sewage, remains, and after effects of chemicals into the Gotham River, polluting the area surrounding it to the point of uninhabitability. Nobody had swam in that water for years, and yet there was a man that was spat out into it.

He clinched the sand as hard as he could, as the sudden rainfall started to drip onto him, easing the burning that infected his entire body. As the sound of burning skin eased, he was finally able to hear. The sound of gentle waves hitting the walls beside him harmonized with the alluring raindrops that danced on the shoreline. The man began to breathe in short, staccato like breaths as he tried to stand up. His first attempt failed miserably, as he slipped on the hanging pieces of his charred suit, causing him to fall face first into the water. The cool, albeit contaminated, water sent a feeling of euphoria down each and every nerve of his body. As the waves came in, they caressed his burnt skin like a soft kitten cuddling up to its owner, and he simply laid there for a brief period of time, moaning due to the feeling that euphonized with his entire body.

As the rain began to accelerate, he dug his hand into the sand pushing himself upright to where he stood up on both knees. The man looked up to the sky with his eyes closed, feeling the rain on his skin as he ran his fingers through his wet hair. He stayed in the pose for roughly ten seconds, and finally he stood up.

Opening his eyes, he stared out towards the skyline of Gotham City and the lights seemingly danced with one another. Where there was a dark red, there was a baby blue alongside it doing a waltz. Where there was a piercing green, there was an illuminating orange that gripped each other tightly in their fast paced tango. The lights moved in seemingly endless combinations and directions. The beauty of it almost put a smile on his face, as he just stood there and admired the sheer magnificence in front of him.

The burning feeling began again, causing the man to wince in pain. Determined to find anything or anyone that could help him and to find out where the hell he was, and frankly who the hell he was, he finally left the small beach he washed up on to find it. He powerwalked up the slight slope that led to a pier, in which he saw a man sitting at a bus stop smoking a cigarette. Overwhelmed with joy, the man ran over to the bus stop waving his arms all over the place.

"HEY!" The man winced in pain and confusion. Hearing his own voice, he noticed the sudden raspiness of it. Ignoring the pain and confusion, he still spoke. "HEY! PLEASE HELP ME!"

Across the street, the man smoking stood up and walked over. As the burn victim got closer and closer into the light of the street, the man at the bus stop got a more clear view of what the burned man looked like. When the man at the bus stop finally saw the burn victim more clearly, the cigarette that rested in his own mouth fell onto the ground, causing ash and sparks to fly into the air only to be immediately put out by the rain. The man at the bus stop was riddled with fear, as his eyes widened and he turned.

"OH MY GOD!" The man at the bus stop ran away as fast as he could down the street, avoiding oncoming traffic. As he dodged one car, he ran into another car in the opposite lane causing him to be flung into the sky and landing on the ground next to the car that he was hit by.

The burn victim put both of his hands to his head, screaming, "HOLY SHIT," running towards the now unconscious man. The woman driving got out of the car, attending to the man she just hit. The burn victim ran up next to her, crouching down next to the man who was just hit by the car. She kneeled down on the ground next to him, and turned him over.

"It's okay, I'm a nurse at Gotham Memorial," She opened her bag with medical supplies, as she squinted due to the outpouring of rain. "This asshole came out of nowhere, what the hell!" She scrounged through her bag, grabbing a stethoscope from it and continued to speak. "I swear, I didn't see him, I'd never jus-" As soon as she looked up at the man that was kneeled down beside her, she jumped backwards, landing on her back, crawling back yet facing the burn victim.

"JESUS CHRIST!" She exclaimed as she saw that man's appearance. Her heart rate picked up tremendously. She looked away from the man, taking a deep breath. The nurse calmed herself, getting into the mode that she gets in when she's at work. Calm and collected the woman twisted herself around, standing on both knees and faced the man.

"Sir... Ha-Have you seen your face? You're bleeding profusely."

The man stood up, putting his hands to his face. "What are you talking about?" He said as he looked at his hands that were now covered in blood. His eyes widened. A feeling that he had never felt before ran through his body, from the very tip of his longest hair all the way down to the nerves at the end of his pinkie toe. He shivered greatly, as he ran as fast as he could towards the glass window that was across the street. When he got there, the horror of his physical appearance was revealed to him.

His skin was as white as paper, and spots that bled profusely highlighted his face a piercing red. The open gashes on his face were probably the result from the outstanding beating he received only ten minutes prior. His face was swollen all over, only to be burned by the chemicals only seconds after they were originally put there. He relooked at his hands, seeing that they, too, were white and his nails were a blackish green. The man put his bloodied hands against the glass, putting his other hand on his face feeling his skin. Running his fingers on his face, he felt the leathery, silk-like texture of his skin. He felt no facial hair, no pores, or no bumps on his face. It was as still as water, and softer than a recently born baby. As the man felt his hair, he felt the dead, lifeless looking locks that rested upon his head. His hair was now as green as a shamrock, yet more dead than death itself. He looked at his eyes, and they shined a sharp, bright green. The green matched the luminescent chemicals that burned his body to begin with, making the thing that plagued him a part of him forever. He then looked down at his lips. They shined a sinful red, becoming even more obvious with the white light that overlooked the horror beneath it. His lips quivered in fear, as he put both hands against the glass, moving in closer and closer to see if it was just the mirror that was doing it. He wondered if what he looked like before was hiding behind the illusion of his own reflection, staring intently at the glass. After every second that passed, the fact of his new appearance became more and more real, and after every glance at the mirror, his mind wandered further and further from reality.

The man knelt down onto the wet ground, staring at himself the entire time. Sirens began to flare up in the reflection of the glass, as they appeared to loom closer and closer, but it didn't matter. What he saw in the reflection was someone he didn't recognize or know. His mind mirrored the clouded thunderstorm that was showering him, for he had not the slightest clue what the name of the man he stared at was. All he saw was white skin and blood without a name or personality, and he stared in confusion as he tried to put a name to his own face.

Paramedics rushed out of the ambulance and ran to the man on the ground still unconscious. The woman ran to one of the paramedics, screaming, "PLEASE HELP THAT MAN OVER THERE!" She pointed at the burned, leathery man on his knees staring at himself across the street. "He's bleeding like crazy!" The four paramedics split into two, as two stayed to deal with the man hit by the car, and the other two ran to help the white, leathery man.

As they grabbed him, he was limp to all feelings. The numbness that littered his heart now resonated with his body, for he didn't care what the paramedics, or frankly anybody, did to him. The shock of seeing his physical appearance left him speechless and without life. When the paramedics rested him down onto the sidewalk to look at his burns, he just stared into the sky with his mouth wide open, as the rain just slipped off his skin and onto the cement that he rested on.

"Sir, what is your name," said the paramedic to his left as he ripped his shirt off to inspect the burns that now made up his entire body. The man spoke in nothing but a slurred and repeated, "I don't know." The paramedics spoke to him again, yet nothing came from the man but that slurred and repeated, "I don't know." He simply looked up into the sky in pure shock and disbelief, and he just repeated the same slurred phrase over and over again, as he simply tried to feel the rain that ran off his silky skin. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know…"

After nothing but slurred speech and empty stares from the man, the paramedics carried him to the ambulance and placed him onto the bed in the back. They strapped him up to the bed, and within a minute, the ambulance took off towards the hospital.

In the back of the ambulance, he just looked without expression out the small window in the middle of the door at the back of the ambulance. He saw the flashing red and blue lights that were above the ambulance itself, yet he focused on the streaking yellow street lights that they passed as the ambulance rushed to the hospital. The man just lied down limp to all his feelings, and the sound of a voice from the paramedic beside him was the same noise you hear when you're alone in a pool, and you dip your head under the water for a moment. He only heard a chilling haze, and the scattered remnants of his sanity ricocheting in the confines of his mind. The paramedic gave up, sitting back in his chair, immediately talking to the paramedic across the bed, "It's like talking to a freakin' vegetable." The paramedic snapped in front of the man's face, yet he didn't even flinch. He just continued to stare off into the window, as his own mind crumbled in silence.

This crude comment and behavior from the paramedics, from the man's perspective, was unwarranted. Even from his numbed like state, he could sense the discrepancy. This corruption stemmed from the hospital being in the pocket of the Maroni crime family. Maroni sold the pills from the ambulance in exchange for giving Gotham Memorial ventilators, renovated wings, and new beds. The paramedics were simple thugs under the ruse of paramedics. They knew the grassroots of being one, but their behavior was un-paramedic like.

The ambulance braked remotely hard as it arrived at the ER. They rushed the burn victim through the crowd of people waiting to get looked at at roughly 5am on a Friday morning in Gotham City. As they rushed him, the crowd of people just stared at him. He kept looking at the ceiling, ignoring the looks of disgust he got as he passed each and every person in the Emergency Room. They performed a sharp turn on the gurney that carried him as they turned into the Operating Room. The surgeon there spoke to him, yet he heard nothing. He stared at her blankly, and accepted the anesthesia they put on him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and for the first time in what seemed like centuries he rested. For the first time in months, he felt relaxed and without a care; whatever was going to happen was just going to happen, he thought to himself during his induced slumber.

Hours later he awoke in the hospital bed, alone, in a pitch black cocoon. He panicked, and reached for his face, but the nurse calmed him down.

"Sir, it's okay!" Yelled the feminine nurse, as she coddled his arms in an attempt in trying to calm him down. The man breathed heavily, as his chest expanded and shrunk within a second of each other. In short spurts, and in a long, drawn out process, he began to calm. The woman spoke again, and from what he could infer, she smiled when she began to speak. "Sir, we're glad you're finally awake."

Immediately he responded, "Why is it so dark? Why can't I see you, or-or anything?"

The woman put her hand on his chest, responding, "It's because you have some gauze on for your burns. When you arrived hours ago you had some really bad burns. You almost bled out. I'm surprised the shock didn't kill you first, if I'm being honest. Do you not remember?"

He put his hands to his temples as he moved it side to side nodding no. As he did that, he felt his lifeless hair. He surprised himself, as he quickly removed his hands back to his side. His eyes widened underneath his mask of gauze on his face. He slowly moved his hands back to his hair to feel it once more. There was nothing. I mean, there was hair, but there was nothing to it. He felt through his hair, and there was no volume, no life, no personality to it. Just lifeless locks of nothingness that rested upon his head, indented into every millimeter of his scalp.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!" He exclaimed! The nurse panicked, as she was relatively new and even she didn't have the complete answer for she hadn't seen him without his gauze either.

Despite her panic, however, she answered immediately, saying, "Your hair burned alongside your entire body… I'm sorry, sir." She paused for a brief moment. As she brought her left hand to feel the cross that rested underneath her neck, she continued. "I'm really sorry that this happened to you, sir." She reached for the clipboard at the end of the bed. The burn victim was just feeling his hair aimlessly, as he breathed in sporadic bursts with no personality or rhythm to it.

Clicking her pen, the nurse began to ask the man some questions that were unanswered earlier that day. The man couldn't see it, but it was approaching night time again. Roughly fourteen hours had passed, as the clock was a few minutes past a quarter to seven thirty. The window was open, and a breeze from the cool November night crept in from the avenues of the city streets. A breeze that evidently called a cab from the clouds above, taking an autumn stroll through the Gotham City streets only to rest and sprawl out in the hospital room with the burn victim and the nurse.

"So," said the nurse as she put her pen to her bottom lip, "what's your name?"

The man stopped feeling his hair, as her words broke the haze he was stuck in. He curled his eyebrows, and shook his head as he wholeheartedly believed in what he responded, for he said, "What do you mean, name?"

The nurse felt a mix of emotions due to that response. The first she felt was sadness, of course. From what her fellow nurses said, the man before her was the worst burn victim they had ever seen and she, the new girl at the hospital, was assigned to his room. The other feeling was confusion, because, as previously stated, she was dealing with the worst burn victim the hospital had ever seen and she had no precedent to work with.

All that went through her head, yet she simply swallowed, staying professional. She responded, "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know what you mean."

The man blinked frivolously inside of his mask of gauze, as he brought his hands to his hair again. "I-I don't know…" He felt his hair more roughly, and gripped his locks with all of his fingers as he spoke in a confused, demented tone, saying, "I don't know my name, I-I don't remember..."

The nurse tried to calm him down again, as she responded, "That's okay! We can skip that for now. Do you remember any form of address? Or email? Or insurance?"

He ignored her response, as he continued to feel his lifeless hair that rested upon his head, and he began to feel this feeling he had never felt before. A chasm of anxiety and madness felt like it had formed in the middle of his chest all the way down to his diaphragm. He began to shake ferociously, and he rushed out of bed. The nurse whimpered in fear, as the man gripped her tightly, yelling at the top of his lungs, "I DON'T REMEMBER MY FUCKING NAME!" He tightened his hold on both of her arms, as she cowered in fear, putting her own head down like a turtle hearing thunder. The other nurses rushed into the room and restrained the man who was struck with shock and fear. Fear for the unknown identity of his own look, and fear for the out of character thing he just performed on an innocent woman. The nurses sedated him once again, and those feelings began to subside gradually. His vision because of the gauze was pitch black, however he still noticed it beginning to blur. The restraints from the rope on the bed loosened as well, as his grip began to give cautiously. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell back unconscious.

This behavior seemed insane from the nurses perspective, and even to the man it came out of nowhere. He breathed heavily, and stared at the dark void due to the gauze around his face. The trauma he endured due to the Mad Hatter's mind control seemed to have its effects. Paired with the shock and trauma of the chemical burns, the amnesia and this mental damage, his mind and body could only handle so much. The mere sense of stress and anxiety could set off a chain reaction of anger, violence and schizophrenic behavior.

The nurse was still standing there, frozen in fear and angst. No patient had ever done anything remotely close to that. She had all the right to be upset with him and refuse caring for him, yet she wanted nothing more than to care for him more. For some reason his outburst made her want to be there for him, as she smiled in a way. Not a normal smile, per se, but a smile all the same. It was somewhat of a creak in her face that formed, and she was silently standing there with her arms to her side, frozen to all interaction that happened around her. Her fellow nurses acted around her. One tied up the burn victim in front of her; the other put the blankets over him; another filled out the chart at the end of the bed recording the situation. Yet the nurse stood there, seemingly frozen in time and fear, as she stared at the wet spot in the ceiling near the wall. It was only until the nurse filling out the chart grabbed her, asking her if she was alright. Of course, she said she was and continued working her night shift. Yet that feeling of fear, anxiety and confusion was in the back of her mind as she tended to her other patients periodically throughout the night.

Roughly five hours later, as the clock struck midnight, the man woke up. His eyes opened slowly, and the darkness he thought he would escape was still all too present. He tried to sit up, but the latches that restrained him thought otherwise. The nurse was by the doorway, staring at him as she felt her neck and the cross that rested on it. When she noticed the man woke up, she walked over to him.

"Wakey wakey," she said as she felt his white arms. "It's okay, these are just restraints to protect me and yourself. If I think you're okay to undo them, I will." He loosened his grip on the restraints, and sat up to the best of his ability.

The nurse smiled, as she picked up the chart at the end of the bed. The gauze could come off after roughly twenty four hours after surgery, so she was thankful to finally see what was under the mysterious gauze that hid the face of the worst burn victim the hospital had ever seen.

"Well, I have good news!" She exclaimed to the burn victim, as she walked closer to him. "It hasn't been exactly twenty four hours after the surgery, but it does say roughly twenty four hours after surgery it can be removed sooooo…" She sat down on the bed next to him. He softly gasped and froze up nervously because of how close she had gotten to him, and scooted over to make sure they at least weren't touching. She spoke further, saying, "Does that sound like something you want to do? I know it's killing you to see the great work the doctors did to fix your burns and body."

The man's eyes widened in the darkness that cascaded his sight, as he turned to where he thought she was. He responded, as he said, "Yes… I'd love to see it." The nurse smiled, and inched herself closer to the burn victim in front of her.

She reached behind his head from where the gauze ended and began to unwrap it. After every circle around his head, more and more skin revealed itself and the woman herself seemingly matched the pale white skin of the burn victim in her shock to what she was seeing. Finally she finished unwrapping the gauze, and her skin was whiter than any piece of paper, any ghost, or any white dwarf star. She just sat there, staring at the man as he slowly opened his eyes. They stared at each other, and her sapphire matched with his emerald eyes, as his vision slowly stopped blurring and they locked eyes. He had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life, and for a brief moment he smiled at her. However, the fear she felt at the moment was overwhelming. She tried her best not to show it, yet it was all too obvious. His smile turned into a confused trance of unknown emotions, as he asked, "Can-Can I have a mirror, please?" Her face was unchanged, and her skin became nearly unequivocally white as she reached for the mirror on the desk next to the bed. As she undid the restraints that held his four limbs, she handed it to the man handle first. He reached out to grab it, bringing it closer to him so he could see himself for the first time after surgery. As he brought it to his face, he felt a sense of relief because the monstrosity he saw in the reflection of the window was just a dream. The unsightly white skin; the glowing green eyes; the lifeless locks; and the monstrous burns and scabs that made up his face and body didn't exist, and this mirror would prove it. Yet, when the mirror revealed his face to himself for the first time, it was all the same and even worse to a degree because it looked even better. There weren't any red gashes that laid periodically across his face, but there was a sea of white that made up his skin. His eyebrows motioned downwards, and his eyes widened, as he inspected every aspect of his face. His skin was still leathery, yet it looked natural for it was seemingly untarnished and without cut, bruise, gash or burn. What he saw in the reflection previously was all too the same, but an even more daunting fact set into his mind and consciousness that was more frightening than his own appearance… He looked normal. His white skin, his newfound green eyes, his lifeless green hair was now his new normal. The previous version of himself that he tried hard to recollect and remember was lost to history, and the version of himself that he didn't recognize was what he now was.

He just stared at himself in the mirror, and the world around him was still. He couldn't hear if he tried, and he couldn't feel anything either. Everything around him was without meaning, and nothing that could ever happen could match the emptiness he felt from simply seeing what he looked like. The person he was before, to which he himself couldn't even remember, was dead and forgotten. Nothing mattered, not even his life. A life he couldn't recognize was a life not even worth living, and the life he was staring at due to the mirror was something he feared and couldn't accept.

The more and more he stared, the more and more that feeling from before came back. The feeling of anguish and anxiety set in, and spread like a poison throughout his body. He set out a nervous laugh. Though he laughed, he couldn't hear it because gradually, a ringing in his ear became more and more intense. All he could hear was the ringing, and ringing, and ringing. He couldn't hear the AC, or the breeze, or even the nurse asking him if he was alright. He just sat there motionless, holding the mirror in his hand as he stared at himself, inspecting every aspect of his new identity.

The nurse reached over, grabbing the mirror out of his hand, and set it down next to the bed. The man continued to just stare in the same spot the mirror was, as he now was just staring out into space. The nurse swallowed, as she spoke to him. The feeling of madness and anguish littered his entire body, and the ringing was more and more intense after every second, after every breath - after every heartbeat. An echo began to form, and his feeling of madness and the ringing in his mind began to boil over, as the echo finally broke through, as he heard from the nurse, "Sir, are you okay?"

Immediately, he snapped and grabbed the woman by the throat. He tightened his grip around her, and began to stand up, towering above her in a maniacal stance. His white claws with bluish green nails locked her in place, as her hands immediately wrapped themselves tightly around his wrist. He brought his other hand to her throat, and tightened his grip even more. He grinded his teeth, and spoke devilishly towards her, as his putrid breath cascaded her nostrils, as he said, "Am I okAY?! Am I OKAY?! I look like a fucking cloWN and you're asking me if I'M OKAY?!" He leaned into choking her, putting his entire body into it. He stared deep into her, and her sapphire eyes slowly started to give, becoming grayer and grayer; duller and duller. Second by second, the grip she had on his wrists started to loosen, and her eyelids started to creep shut. He tightened even more, and seconds later she let go of his arms and her arms dangled beside her, as her fingers dragged back and forth with her arms across the floor. Her brown hair that was set in a perfectly put bun was frizzed up and spread out everywhere across her head, as they too, were as lifeless as the locks of her killer's. Although she was dead, he tightened his grip, and his nails set into her skin until her throat began to bleed and drip down his hands.

The ringing was all too apparent, and the six nurses that rushed in the room were deaf to the ringing that went on solely in the killer's own mind. They saw the nurse dead on the ground, with her throat and neck bleeding and the blood that painted the white skin of the killer towering over her. They rushed at him; some possessed sedatives and some just used whatever they had as weapons of defense. The feeling that pitted in his chest and the ringing that echoed in his mind fueled his body, controlling him like a marionette of madness and murder.

He reached for the metal mirror that was next to his bed, and hit the first nurse approaching him in her right temple. She collapsed to his feet, immediately grasping her head to try and numb the pain and her yells echoed throughout the entire wing of the hospital. The other five nurses rushed him, and he did the same thing. He beat them with the metal mirror that he used as a weapon, and they fell beside and beneath him. Through the ringing, he heard their screams of anguish and pain. To try and stop it, he beat them even more on the ground with the mirror. It bent and broke as he bashed their heads in, yet he didn't stop. His presumptuous white face was now a dark maroon, cascaded in the blood of the seven women he had just killed. Some women twitched as the synapses sent from their brains were spazzing out and dying alongside them. He just stood above them, holding the bent and broken mirror covered in the blood of the seven nurses.

Almost immediately, the feeling and ringing stopped. He didn't flinch or grab his head, he just stood still as he scouted out the dead women that were beneath him. He dropped the mirror on the ground, and backed up, looking at the whole scene in full. Glaring at the clock, he saw the time of 12:17 pass by and right away he looked back at the seven dead nurses that lay dead below him. Slowly, that feeling of madness and anguish set back in but the ringing laid dormant. His eyes frantically looked at the women, varying in appearance but dead all the same.

That feeling took over his entire body once again, and the overwhelming sensation of unequivocal madness finally set itself out into his mind and he finally snapped for good. An unamendable snap that could never be redone or set right occurred throughout his entire body, and his eyes widened even more. He stepped back further, staring at the women in full and he brought his hands to his hair. He felt the lifeless strands of hair that rested on his head, and he shook his head no. His eyes filled with tears, and they paraded vertically down his cheeks. His revering red lips creaked open, and with utter madness, he let out a chuckle. A chuckle so slight, he stopped himself. He put his hands over his mouth, and stopped himself from whatever feeling he felt because deep down, his old self was trying to keep whatever sanity left of him together. But under his hands, his lips rose up and his cheeks widened as he let out an actual laugh. Again he stopped himself, as once again his former self tried to stop him. He gripped his mind with an iron grip, holding on to whatever reality he had in which he could keep his mind that existed. Nothing could loosen his grip of his mind, as he gripped tighter and tighter to his mind that was in a freefall towards madness. Like a sentient life force, the new white faced, green haired man that controlled his body forced his former self into a box, forcing it to plummet down into the deepest hole of his lost mind. As soon as it hit the floor to never be seen again, the green haired, pale white skin man finally let out the laugh he so desperately wanted to release. He loosened the grip of his hands that covered his mouth, as the laugh intensified, growing louder and louder. He looked up towards the ceiling, straight into the light above him as he laughed his mind and heart away. It echoed throughout the lifeless wing of the hospital, where all seven nurses there were now dead because of one man. As the final nurse alive seeped into death and left her ragdoll of a body, the laugh of a deranged, maniacal clown echoed in her dying mind.

She finally died, and the man's high pitched and evil laugh ceased. He looked back down at the nurses, and smiled. His red lips formed a parabola on his face, as he walked towards the window to see himself. He inspected his face, and he fixed his lifeless hair that was in a frenzy due to the beating he gave the six nurses. He properly set it in the way he wanted, and he grabbed a towel next to him to wipe off the blood on his face and hands. Slowly, he began to fall in love with what he saw in the mirror. A smile slowly formed on his face once again, as he was in love with his new found appearance. He looked back at the dead nurses on the floor, and chuckled. He kneeled down, looking into the eyes of the nurse he choked to death. He leaned in closer towards her, and rested his hands on her cheek.

Another smile laid permanently on his face, as he whispered, "Such a pretty face… Shame to see it go to waste." As he stood up, he put two fingers in the pool of blood underneath the bodies of the dead nurses. Reaching his two fingers back towards the nurse, he drew a smile on her lips, drawing lines with blood that curved up on each side of her face. He stood up and walked down the hallway, chuckling after almost every step. As he left the hospital going out the back, he escaped into the Gotham night. Permanently looking at the wet spot she stared at when she saw the man for the first time, the nurse that the burn victim choked to death laid there cold and still, smiling in her lifeless body.

VII

Present Day

"Alfred," Bruce said as he turned the wheel of the Batmobile. "Link the cowl's computer to the cameras of the GCPD. If I'm going to get to Tetch, I'm going to have to know my surroundings at all times."

The clock just struck midnight as the Batmobile triumphed through the roads of Gotham City. Wayne Manor was quite a trek from the city itself, but the Batmobile was nearly to GCPD in a matter of minutes. Staring as the clock did so, Alfred sent the schematics, live cameras, and officers on duty at GCPD.

Bruce was shocked to get the list of officers, grimacing as he spoke. "Why is there a list of the GCPD officers that are working? They're insignificant to my cause."

Alfred's eyebrows rose, disappointed in the words that just came out of Bruce's mouth. "Sir, I can't believe what you're saying. Are you calling thousands of officers that serve under the GCPD insignificant because they don't go to the extremes you do for the law? Why, I do believe the arrogance could be getting to your head."

Bruce instantly hung up the call that he was on with Alfred, for he had arrived approximately two blocks from the GCPD, parking the Batmobile two blocks away. As the hood of the car slid back, he uttered, "I have no time to worry about the ones who sit back and watch this city burn at the stake of the corrupt." Bruce grappled to the top of the building that towered over him, rising past the roof using the inertia from the rope of the grapnel. He glided over to the water tower that was right across the street of the GCPD, landing eloquently on the top as his cape landed briskly behind him.

The GCPD was a modest building. Roughly 5 stories high with a giant dome for a roof that protruded into a tall point. The building was an off gray, formerly a bright white yet the building had not been painted in years so the colors were beyond faded. Bruce knelt down as he touched the top of the cowl, interacting with the computer inside of it.

Bruce used the computer to zoom in, turning on the scanner that looked through the walls of the building. It didn't look through the matter entirely per se, but it showed the outline of the men that walked in the building. Their heat lit them up perfectly to be seen by the scanners of the cowl. Bruce scanned the building intently counting the guards, but more importantly, to find Jervis Tetch.

There has to be at least a hundred in the building. I have to take it slow. It's not like I have to, I could probably take all of them… But the smart thing is to take it slow and to be unseen. How do I get in without being seen?.. First thing's first though... Bruce surveyed the building. He opened the files that Alfred had sent, scrounging it to find Tetch. A green arrow pointed to the cell block of the GCPD where they held the recent convicts. Tetch's trial for kidnapping the young girl and killing her father had not happened yet, and the GCPD had been watching his cell like a hawk. There. There's Tetch. He's surrounded by 6 guards from every direction. Getting in there unnoticed would be impossible. Bruce looked up to find a vent that led to the top floor of the GCPD: the boiler room. Bruce smirked as his tech made him all the more happy to be doing what he was doing. He used his grapnel to fling himself across the street, hanging off the roof and pulling himself up to see if any cops were there.

No cops. I'm good to go. Bruce pulled himself up and walked towards the vent across the building. As soon as he took 4 steps, the door flung open and two officers walked out onto the roof. Batman flung himself to hide behind the pillar that held up the helipad as he blended himself into the cool, clear Gotham night. The officers walked right by him, and stood right by the railing of the roof as the officer to the right pulled out a box of cigarettes. The officer on the left pulled out a lighter, handing it to the officer with the cigarettes.

Lighting the cigarette, the officer to the right said, "Man, you think this Batman-thing is real?" As soon as Batman believed the officers to be distracted enough to sneak by, he stopped himself as the officer spoke, listening in on the conversation.

"Man, I know he's real! The way that Tetch is talking about him, he's gotta be," the officer on the left said as he grabbed the lighter from the officer, lighting his own cigarette.

"What? You kiddin' me? You gonna believe that nut job upstairs? The one who walked in singing about white rabbits and Alice?"

"Well…" The officer on the left started to second guess himself, as a confused look formed on his face. "Well, when you put it like that, I don't know anymore!"

The officer on the right laughed at him. "Haha! Y'know, Bullock actually believes he's real. He said he got his shit knocked in by him about three weeks back. Says all he remembers is seeing the Batman-thing, then all of a sudden he's on top of a car that's beaten all to shit."

Laughing as well, the officer on the left took a drag of his cigarette, saying, "Yo, look at us, dude. I'm believin' basket cases, and you're believin' Harvey 'the Alcoholic' Bullock. I'm surprised Loeb has even kept that guy for as long as he has. When I met him he was drunk, when I hear about him he's drunk, and the last time I saw him he was drunk. I can't believe a t'ing that comes out of his mouth."

Batman looked intently at the two guards as they laughed some more. This was just a joke to them. A means to an end; a way to put food on the table to the family they go back to every night. A luxury, Bruce thought. Family is only family until their blood is all over your mind and past. Batman walked backward with his eyes on the two men the entire time. The two were distracted beyond all belief and he snuck by them with ease.

He reached the vent that led to the boiler room of the GCPD. Reaching into his utility belt, Bruce grabbed a highly centralized and focused laser that could slice through the thin metal of the vent with ease. It was relatively silent as well, which worked to his advantage. As he cut through the metal, he heard the footsteps of the men approaching the door. The door was perpendicular to the vent, just being to the left wall of where Batman was. When they reached the door, Batman's cover would undeniably be blown. He had to be quick. The final strand of metal was cut, and with the cover of the vent falling, Batman quickly entered the ventilation system. He hung from the wide pipe with one hand, as he used his other hand to attach a magnet with another launchable magnet. He attached it to the middle segment of the vent, and put the other magnet parallel to it but on the other side of the pipe. He pulled the vent's cover back into place and the magnet kept the cover still, making it appear to be untampered with. The officers entered the door with no suspicion of the Batman's entrance. Watching the men walk through the door, Bruce slid down the pipe, landing quietly with the help of his cape onto the ground.

As Bruce landed, he scanned the room and the rooms below. He was about 6 rooms in front and 2 floors above the cell of Jervis Tetch. He followed the piping of the building, and how he could get there in the most unseen and non hurtful way. Three different systems led downwards, and Bruce surveyed each. All he cared about was which one got him there faster, and he found that in the middle one. The middle route led through the main lobby of the GCPD, where roughly 20 officers were.

Without even considering his options, Batman cut through the cover of the middle vent, doing the same as he did above. He slid down the vent, and landed carefully onto the ground, walking to the corner where nobody could see him. He peaked around the corner, turning on his scanner to see the officers that were in the room. Most of the officers were just at their desks, either doing paperwork or drinking their coffee. Batman scanned the room more, and other officers were doing all that you can imagine: walking around, looking out the window, talking by the water cooler. All the cliché things that you can find in a workplace.

He noticed some cops walking their way out to the main hallway, and he backed up. He immersed himself into the dark corner behind a fake plant, and only the whites of his eyes could be seen, and if seen, they'd just be two floating white ovals attached to nothing. Batman's heart pumped in fear of being seen, but the cops simply walked past him, unknown to his presence. He sighed in relief, crouching back down and approached the corner again. He noticed he had a clear shot for the other hallway, so he lunged himself over and hid behind the wall in a single leap. His cape followed suit as it slithered behind him, becoming one with the dark corner of the wall. Peaking past the wall, Batman hoped for an opening to advance yet nothing was open.

Batman squinted straight upwards, seeing that there was a way to advance to the second floor. Taking one more look around the corner, no sign of advancement was possible so he turned back and looked up. As soon as he looked up, he scanned through the ceiling to see if there was anyone near the ledge. Seeing no one, he jumped up and caught the bottom rail, hanging off of it. He peered over the railing to see for himself, and again, the coast was clear. He pushed off the wall he was leaning on, planted his feet on the wall across from him, and vaulted over the railing in a perfect flip, landing briskly on to the ground. Immediately, he attached himself to the wall next to him, thinking of a way to advance.

Turning his scanner on, he looked through the wall to see a cop approaching the end of the hall where Batman was hiding. Batman's heart began to pump even faster as he waited to see what the cop was going to do. The cop walked slower and slower, and just stood there for a second. Batman's world froze as he was getting ready to attack, but as soon as he was going to attack, the officer turned back and said, "Damn, I knew I forgot somethin'." Batman's heart stopped in his place and he swallowed, realizing his eagerness to engage. Batman turned the corner as the cop turned around, following him as he walked down the hallway.

Right when they were about to reach the end, the cop instantly turned around, as he said, "Shoot, first I should grab my-." Batman instantly reacted and grabbed him by the mouth and, as quietly as he could, brought him to the ground. The cop was relatively skinny, so the strength of the Batman was overbearing. Batman crouched backwards dragging the cop as he had him in a sleeper hold, covering his mouth. The cop screamed out, but no one could hear him. The menacing creature that hid in the darkness had a grip of him and there was no escape. As Batman was choking him, he felt his pulse increase rapidly. His BPM was roughly at double of the normal resting heart rate, but just as quickly as it rose, it started to descend. His heart slowed down, beating slower and slower, and the cop stopped trying to fight back. The screams subsided and his body went limp. Batman laid him down, and dragged him to a corner, keeping him out of sight. Batman exhaled and brought his composure back, staring at him as he backed away.

As Batman made his way down the hallway, he hid on the left wall. He could see the room that led to Tetch, and the six officers that were there guarding him. He thought of how he was going to take out that many men quietly without being seen or heard. Batman knew the impossibility of it and used his time to think.

There's almost no way that I can get to Tetch without being seen. I can take them out with ease, but this isn't the time for brutality, unfortunately. Wit will have to win this game. Batman brought up the computer on his cowl and linked it to the mini-screen on his gauntlets. He used the screen to control the Batmobile parked roughly two blocks away, and drove it towards the GCPD. As it arrived, he deployed the rocket launcher that was on the back of the vehicle, and shot a GCPD police car, exploding it immediately. Batman instantly heard the commotion in the building, some officers yelling out obscenities in their shock. The Batmobile skidded away and down the street as it soared back to its original hiding spot in a matter of seconds. Batman looked back at the main lobby and the holding cells, and saw as four officers left the room to see what had happened. Several more officers ran down the hallway and to the main window to see the GCPD vehicle ablaze. Batman used this distraction to continue towards the holding cell.

Walking down the hallway of the second floor, Batman used his scanner to see if there was any way to get inside the holding cell that wasn't the front door. Thankfully, the ventilation system came in handy once again as the vent that led down into the room was just across the hallway. Batman crouched quietly underneath the office windows, although that was redundant due to the distraction Batman set.

As he made his way down the hallway, the door to the office parallel to him flung open. The officer yelled, "WHAT THE HELL WAS ALL THAT NOISE, MAN?! I WAS TAKIN' A DAMN NAP!" As soon as he finished his sentence, Batman and the officer locked eyes and as the officer was about to begin to yell, Batman reached toward his utility belt, grabbing the gun that was there and shot a puddy-like gel to cover the officer's mouth. The faintest of yells occurred before his mouth was covered by the gel, and Batman leaped over to him, grabbing him by the shirt and turned him around. He put him in the same sleeper hold that he had the previous officer in, but this guy was bigger and fatter, giving Batman far more trouble. Batman struggled to keep a grip as the officer fought back. Though he wasn't stronger than Batman, his movement came with a lot of power, giving Batman great difficulty. Batman pushed his right arm with all his might to lock with his other arm that propped up the officer's head, and finally, he locked his fingers around his own arm, applying a great amount of pressure to put the man to sleep. The officer struggled with all of his might, and tried to walk around to fling Batman off of him, yet as soon as he took his first step, Batman struck his knee into the back of the officer's leg, deadening the leg and forcing the officer to fall to one knee. Batman towered over the officer, and the officer's entire head began to shine red and slobber ran down his chin and onto the ground. After almost an entire minute of trying to get the officer to fall asleep, finally he collapsed to the floor and his body went limp. Batman pushed the officer in front of the door with his left hand, and supported himself with his right. He was breathing heavy in long, sprawled out breaths as he tried to regain his strength. After about ten seconds and one last deep breath, Batman peeked on both sides of the hallway, turning left towards the vent.

Arriving at the vent, Batman brought out his laser cutter, cutting the vent like he did to the ones previously. The vent fell towards him, and he attached the two magnets like he did before, and as he slid, he placed the vent back in place to appear to be fine.

Batman slid down the pipe, yet stopped himself as he reached the end. This pipe was just a pipe that faced straight down with no flooring, for the vent stopped there in that room. Only the same grate like the one he just cut was there, and if he fell any further, he would've broken it and his cover would be blown. Batman paused for a moment to think.

How the hell do I get out of this? If I fall any further, the vent won't support my weight… I can't just wait for them to leave. If I wait too long, the guards will be back and then I'll really be screwed. Batman continued to think as he listened to the Mad Hatter hum in a disturbing way. He swayed back and forth on the bed in his cell, swaying and smiling all the same. His grotesque teeth protruded out past his lips as he hummed what used to be a sweet lullaby for children. The song coming from him changed the song's tone in every way, changing it to a sweet song for kids, to a demented song for the criminally insane.

As he listened to Tetch hum, out of nowhere a lightbulb moment occurred. He pushed his body against the pipe to allow his arm to move freely, and instantly reached into his belt, grabbing a small little metal pellet. He turned on his cowl's scanner and scanned the room, and the two officers were just across the room guarding Tetch. He reached up even higher, throwing the metal pellet down towards the ground, making a noise just loud enough to get the officer's and the Mad Hatter's attention.

"Oooooo! Look after the senses and the sounds will look after themselves!" Tetch said as he looked at the metal pellet that rolled on the ground.

"You shut up!" Said the officer, making his way toward the pellet. The other officer circled around the cell and he, too, walked towards the pellet. A perfect situation occurred for Batman, and as soon as one was visible, Batman let go of the pipe, flinging himself through and onto the officer.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Batman grabbed the officer he landed on by the hair and slammed the back of his head into the ground, knocking him out cold, and reached to the side and snatched the AR-15 out of the other officer's hands. He turned it around and hit him with the butt of the rifle right into his lower ribs. The officer screamed as his bottom right rib broke. Batman swept his leg under the officer's, lifting him off the ground only to grab him in the air and slam him straight on to the ground, knocking him out instantly. The Mad Hatter laughed hysterically, clapping for the Batman's theatrics.

Batman dragged the officers by the legs towards the door, setting them right in front of it. He got out the gun he used for the officer before, and shot it onto their clothes. Some shots he used to attach them both to the door, and the others he used to attach them to the ground, therefore forcing the door shut. After his last shot, he stopped to listen to the Hatter's hysterical laughing. Slowly, he turned around and stared at him.

The Mad Hatter was rolling on the ground with his hands on his stomach laughing hysterically. His ugly rotten teeth were in the most unsatisfying grin imaginable, and Batman watched as saliva and spit erupted out of his mouth like a volcano as he laughed and laughed.

"Shut up," Batman said sternly without moving his teeth. He walked towards the cell, and with one swift and strong kick to the lock, it flung open and the corner of the door hit the Hatter straight in the nose. He reached for his face, and covered it. Batman reached down for him, grabbing him by the shirt and rose him above eye level.

"What did you want with the girl?!" Batman yelled, and he flung the Hatter without letting go of him on to the bars of the cell. The Hatter gasped in pain, only for it to be followed by his laugh. As he talked, his teeth flapped in the most unruly way.

"I'm afraid I can't explain myself, sir, for I am not myself," said the Hatter as Batman grew tired of his games. Batman hurled Jervis on to the perpendicular set of bars. He stared at him intently, and the floating white eyes of the Batman grew smaller due to his face being stern and determined to get an answer.

"I'm not playing any games, Tetch," Batman leaned in closer, speaking more. "Give me a reason not to force you to eat with a straw for the rest of your life. What did you want with the girl?!" Jervis smiled, and his teeth became set in a nice curved row.

"Why, I am the Mad Hatter, am I not? I need an Alice to show the beauty of the world! How could you be so stupid, little Bat. It would be so nice if something made sense for a change." Batman yelled and threw the Hatter on to the ground.

"Stop talking nonsense!" The Mad Hatter laughed while he rolled on the ground, and spoke while he laughed.

"Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast, Batman." Jervis laughed some more, and tried to prop himself up. Batman kicked Jervis right in his chest and he flew out the cell and rolled a few times to a stop. Jervis continued to speak, saying, "Have I gone mad," Jervis laughed more and rolled towards Batman, facing him, "I'm afraid so, but let me tell you, the best people usually ar-" Batman planted his foot on top of Jervis' head. Jervis stopped talking and yelled out in pain.

"What did you want with the girl, Jervis?! Why did you kidnap her and her father?! They were good people!" The Mad Hatter continued his laugh under Batman's boot, struggling to speak as his face was smushed.

"The man? Why, the man was my little white rabbit. He needed guidance to see the world like me and Alice do, so I guided him. He didn't know where he was going, and if you don't know where you're going, any road can take you there. His road led to me. His daughter was the perfect Alice… Oh, Alice… Oh, AliCE!" The Mad Hatter just yelled Alice over and over again, and was completely detached from what was going on. Batman took his foot off his face, and the Mad Hatter curled up into a ball and just spoke nonsense. Batman knew nothing good or useful would come out of the Hatter's mouth. He reached down, grabbing him and threw him back into the cell. Batman closed the cell and just stared at the Mad Hatter as he spoke to himself.

"Who in the world am I?" Asked the Hatter to himself as he put his head into his chest and his arms to cover himself.

"You're insane, Jervis. Get help." Batman turned around, as he took his first step, the Mad Hatter spoke again.

"Why is a raven like a writing-desk?" Asked the Mad Hatter as he fell to the ground in the fetal position, shaking on the ground. He stared at the Batman, and began to yell. "You are an animal! You took my Alice! My poor, poor Alice! She's scared and lost without me! Oh, what will she do, what will she do!.. The big bad Bat is coming for her, I just know it! Oh, he's so scary, so scary…"

Batman grabbed the bars of the cell and looked straight at Jervis. He got down on one knee, speaking directly to him.

"It's better to be feared than loved, Jervis," said Batman, sending the Hatter into a frenzy as Batman just quoted from the very book Jervis was obsessed with. The Hatter yelled at the top of his lungs, rolling on the ground, pounding it ferociously. Batman smirked, getting up and turning his back to Tetch.

As Jervis yelled at the top of his lungs, Batman looked up towards the vent, grappling to the top of it, ascending through the pipe. He crawled through the vent, hanging there to see if the coast was clear. He turned on his scanner, surveying his surroundings. Coast is clear. Time to get the hell out of here. Batman exited the pipe, and crouch walked under the windows of the offices. He passed the office of the large male officer that was still unconscious laying on the ground, peeking in just to make sure. Still unconscious. That hold is legit. He'll only wake up with neck pain. After inspecting the room, Batman made his way further down the hall and the other officer he incapacitated was unconscious, still, as well. Vaulting over the railing, he made his way back to the vent he used to get to the main lobby of the GCPD. As he arrived at the vent, he removed the magnets he put to keep the vent in place, and as it fell, he caught it quietly. He shimmied his way into the vent, standing up in the pipe as he grappled up back to the top where the boiler room was.

As he reached the top, he did the same with the magnets beforehand, removing them so he could exit the grate. Turning around, Batman flinched. A gun was pointed in his face. Batman looked through the barrel, and even with subpar lighting, he knew the gun.

Sig Sauer P226. 15 plus one in the chamber, but GCPD has regulations that they can only have 10 plus the one, so... Why didn't I scan before I entered the room? Stupid. I need to be better. What the hell is he doing here anyway? Thoughts rushed through Batman's mind in a matter of seconds. His foolishness put him in danger. While he did manage to get to Tetch unnoticed, the fact of the matter was he didn't leave unnoticed. That's what mattered to Bruce.

"Hands where I can see them! I can't even have a goddamn smoke break without..." The officer stopped himself upon seeing who he was pointing his gun at. With his auburn brown hair ruffled after what appeared to be quite a long day, he stared with his sapphire eyes in shock to see the man, or thing, that was in front of him. His thick rimmed black glasses laid in the middle of his nose, and his thick brown mustache rested above his lip, painting his face in a surprised, yet amazed look.

Standing still, Batman reluctantly put his hands up. The officer was smart and stood past arm's length, keeping a considerable difference between him and the Batman. If what he heard on the news was true, the Batman-thing was not a force to be trifled with.

Confusing to Batman, however, the officer lowered his gun and turned off his flashlight. The pupil of Bruce's eyes slowly widened again, as he could see more clearly into the room. As his sight fully recovered, he zoomed in with the cowl on the badge on the officer's left shoulder.

Gordon, James. Badge number 3-1-9. Bruce used the directory on the inside part of his gloves to coerce through the computer inside his cowl. Using the list of GCPD officers that Alfred sent him, Batman scanned through the names, finally finding Gordon. Right when this step occurred, Gordon began to speak.

"So, you are real... That little girl wasn't just making up a story." As soon as the little girl was mentioned, Bruce turned off the computer and looked directly at Gordon. Bruce slowly lowered his arms and rested them normally on his side.

"How is she doing," asked Batman, genuinely concerned with the girl's wellness.

"She's good," Gordon said as he put his gun back in his holster. "The moment we picked her up, the guy's who entered first said they saw you next to her, but I didn't want to believe them. I mean, a Bat-man, or thing, or whatever you are. How the hell could I believe that?"

"You're not supposed to," Batman immediately said, creeping towards Gordon. "I don't care what you, or your measly cops believe." Menacingly, Batman inched towards Gordon, forcing Gordon to back away, reaching for his gun.

"Hey, watch it, pal," Gordon said, placing his hand on the unbuttoned gun resting in his holster on his belt. "I'm not your enemy. The girl says you're her friend, and I'm the girl's friend. That makes us friends, doesn't it?"

Batman sighed slowly. He slightly weakened the fists he had formed on both of his hands, and he lowered his shoulders. Finally, after processing what Gordon had said, he spoke.

"I am not friends with cops, nor will I ever be." Gordon laughed in response. Bruce, surprised at Gordon's ability to laugh at him, given the situation, stared confusingly at Gordon.

"You're gonna dress up like that, beat the shit out of some midget, and save a little girl from burning from acidic chemicals without even trying to be friends with cops?" Gordon chuckled a few more times after he said that, and turned his head at Batman. "Good luck with that," Gordon said as he finished his sentence.

"I have no time to be concerned with the corrupt system that you fools abide by. This city is burning: it burns more and more everyday. You guys just sit around eating donuts and getting fat. Some of you cops are so deep in the mob that I'm starting to wonder if Gotham should change it from Gotham City PD, to Maroni and Falcone PD. They run this city, and I won't stand for it any longer. Someone has to do something about it, and I'm that person." Batman's heart began to pump, and his adrenaline started to increase. He noticed his fists were formed again; his face in a grimace staring at Gordon. Gordon stared at Batman, speaking almost immediately.

"Oh, really? Is that what you think?" Gordon said, pointing right at Batman. Batman didn't answer, and Gordon continued to speak. "Well, maybe you're right." Gordon touched his bottom lip with his teeth, shaking his head with disappointment. "But… If I have anything to say about it, I won't be that cop. I refuse to be that cop. Those cops down there are idiots. They're too worried about getting their pockets and wallets filled with cash to cheat on their wives with women they have no business being with. While, I, the 'good cop', slaves away and tries to do some actual police work. So maybe, you're right. Maybe, this is the Falcone and Maroni PD." Gordon reached for his badge that was on his left shoulder, unpinning it and showing it to Batman. "But when I wear this badge, it says GCPD. That is what I represent when I wear this badge. Not Maroni or Falcone, or Loeb, or any of the 'other' officers you just mentioned. I'm Jim Gordon, GCPD petty officer. I abide and enforce the law. I don't care what my peers do; only what I do."

Gordon remained showing the badge to Batman. Batman stood there in shock to what had just transpired. He had no clue that there could be a cop that was concerned with the law. He admired Gordon, a cop, something that he never thought would occur. He tried to open his mouth, but words couldn't form for the shock was too great. I've been a fool… Batman thought. All this time, I've been focused on the corrupt, generalizing every officer in the GCPD. I never stopped to think that there were any outliers… Finally words were able to form, and Batman talked back to Gordon.

Smiling as he spoke, Batman said, "I like you," to Gordon. Gordon stepped back for a moment, staring at Batman.

"I'd like you as well if you didn't break the bones of every thug and criminal you come across. Tetch came in with some broken ribs, and his goons that were in that building all had some facial damage, some teeth knocked out, you name it," Gordon said to Batman. Gordon wiped his nose as the breeze from the cool autumn night rolled in from the open window.

"They're criminals," said Batman. "I hurt them so they can associate pain with doing wrong. Over time it will work, it's simple psychology."

"The law is in place to put fear into the criminals you're beating. We have to put faith in it, or else…" Gordon looked back at the badge that was in his hand, gripping it tightly. He regained his composure as he began to speak again. "Or else what are we doing here… What am I doing here? The law has to work. It just has to…" Gordon put the badge close to his heart, holding it there as Batman followed up.

"I believe in you, but I don't believe in the GCPD. You're a good egg in a batch of many bad ones. The law in Gotham has failed whether you'd like to see it or not. If it hadn't, I wouldn't have to do this. I could believe in officer's like you, but I can't. Gotham would be lost in the hands of your peers, and for that…" Batman turned away, staring out the window. His cape flowed behind him like an endless river, dancing with the breath of the night. "And for that, I have to be here."

Gordon swallowed as he saw Batman turn his back to him. He watched as his cape flowed beautifully with the night's breeze as he began to speak. "For what it's worth, I think you've done some good. You stopped Jervis Tetch from doing whatever he was going to do to the girl, and you saved the girl as well. She's safe and sound at Pinkney Orphanage in North Gotham."

The feeling of guilt spread from Batman's chest, making its way up and down his body. He remembered as he saw the girl's father burn alive in the vat of chemicals, and the failure it represented. Even though he saved the girl, he couldn't save the father. The girl was now an orphan like him. They shared a similar moment. A similar moment no child should ever see.

"That's good," Batman said as his body started to shake in guilt and angst. He heard Gordon approach him, and Batman turned back towards him.

"Listen, you walked in on my smoke break so I can't really stay and talk so I have to go. If it means anything, I think you can do a lot of good for this city." Batman almost smiled, but he stopped himself. He looked into the eyes of Gordon and felt at ease. Gordon had this look about him that just made Bruce comfortable. It reminded him of his father, for the brief period he knew him. His father always made him feel at home, wherever they were. However, when Bruce had his father's blood all over him, it was like he lost his home. Feeling the same way around Gordon was almost refreshing. The only other person alive he felt that way around was Alfred.

Gordon stood in front of the Batman, staring into the floating white eyes of the cowl. He smiled at the Batman, reaching his arm out in hopes of a hand shake.

"Friends?" Gordon asked Batman. Batman's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the word. The word snapped him out of the trance he was in, placing him back in his own reality. Bruce thought to himself intently.

Friends… There's no room in my life for friends. Batman looked down in shame. Gordon was good, yet the image Bruce had for himself was someone that could not have friends. Someone who had to work alone without any relationships. Bruce sighed as he sneakily reached into his belt for a smoke pellet. Swallowing before he spoke, yet he stopped himself again from speaking, thinking about the situation some more. Maybe Gordon's different… Maybe I can be friends with him. He could be useful. But... He gripped the smoke pellet tightly. He looked back up at Gordon, finally mustering up the courage to speak.

"No," said Batman as he popped the pellet in his hands, causing smoke to fill the room and Gordon to cover his face, coughing up a storm. He jumped out of the window, falling head first down two stories. He expanded the cape, and the gusts of wind that encapsulated him as he fell soared Batman upwards, causing him to glide away from the building into the cool Gotham night.

Gordon waved the smoke away as he approached the window sill. He placed his hands on the sill, peeking his head out, turning it every direction to try and find Batman, yet no body could be found. He pounded the bottom part of his right fist into the sill, turning away from the window and back towards the door. He sucked his teeth a little as he opened the door, turning back towards the window to look again. Gordon shook his head in confusion, closing the door to go back to work.

VIII

"Man, Maroni has been all up my ass lately," said that man at the bar taking a sip of his beer. The bar the two were at was just like any other. A TV hovered in the upper right hand corner of the bar playing a rerun of the game played earlier that day. Midnight was five minutes past, and the bar was as live as ever for a friday night. The bar was a popular hangout of the Maroni crime family, and that's exactly who these two men were associated with.

"Hey, Papi isn't trying to bust ya chops or anything: he's just tryna get the best outta you's," the other man said with his back to the bar staring at the women dancing on the dance floor.

"Tony, I know he don't like me. I have no clue why he even listened to you's when he brought me in." What the man said had some truth. Maroni didn't just take in anyone that asked. There was a whole initiation that took place in order to even be considered to be part of the "family". It starts with one of the sharks, the people that Maroni has at all of the hot spots of Gotham's underlife, notices someone that suits the family. They had to be Italian or else they weren't accepted; they had to be fully committed; and, most importantly, they had to swear to never rat to either the Falcone's or the GCPD. This was vital because trust in that business is everything. Maroni especially took it seriously, and every new recruit for the past couple of years had to partake in a blood pact when it came to the final point of initiation. If they got past that point, they met with Maroni, and Maroni sent them out on a job as a henchman. If they survived and did it well, then they were part of the family. If they didn't, Maroni got his goons to beat the ungodly crap out of them to scare them into not talking to the feds or the Falcone family.

"Listen, Gio, you're my boy, I gotchu. Papi ain't got nothin' out for you, I promise. You got nothin' to worry about." Gio waved off Tony, and stared back up at the TV. Tony scoffed at Gio, walking towards the women on the dance floor. As soon as he stepped on the dance floor, the door to the bar opened. Even for a Friday night, Tony, being one of the sharks, kept an eye on everything and everyone. When a peculiar man walked in draped in purple and green, dawning a top hat, Tony's right eyebrow rose a little bit. The dilemma of his life was upon him: go up to the man and do his job, or talk to these women he's stared at all night. Tony contemplated for a moment, and he started walking towards the man. After taking his first step, the woman on the dance floor put her hand on his shoulder.

"I was wondering when you were gonna come up to me, sweet thing," Tony looked back at the beautiful blonde woman that was resting her hand on his shoulder. He turned around and smiled at the woman. His stick of spearmint gum could be seen between his teeth waded up on a small chewed up line, and he walked with the woman to the dance floor.

The man in the purple suit walked to the bar, standing right next to Gio. The hat covered his face as he was looking down towards the bar. Gio looked to the right of him, noticing the strange man. Though the bar was dark, he could see the man's eerie white skin highlighted by the purple suit, green shirt, and orange ascot tie. He kind of flinched, but regained his composure almost immediately. Noticing this, the man looked up and stared at him. His grin was from ear to ear, and lips were a bright, glistening red. His luminescent emerald eyes were noticeable in the darkness of the bar, and he just smiled at Gio. This time Gio flinched backwards.

"Hey, man, what the fuck's wrong with ya? I didn't do anything to you." Gio backed up from the bar, and the man just kept smiling at him. The man turned towards him, and slowly built up a laugh.

"Heheehehe… Hahahaha!" He looked upwards towards the ceiling, putting his left hand over his stomach. He began to tear up, and a single tear went down his face. His laughter grew even stronger. Finally, the man looked at him.

"Y'know, all I wanted to do was get a drink! Friday night in Gotham City, and y'know, I got a little thirsty. Figured I'd stop in on the finest bar in town, maybe take my chance at all these sweet little ladies. Maybe get a little lucky tonight." By now almost everyone in the bar was staring at the man. His smile grew bigger, and he just stared at Gio. He looked off to the left at this woman with gorgeous red hair, and he winked at her. The woman gave an appalled look and looked straight down towards her feet. The man chuckled in respite.

"Yo, we got a problem here?" Tony said as he walked towards Gio. He put his hand on Gio's shoulder, tapping him twice. "We good, buddy?"

"I dunno man, ask this wise guy. All I did was look at him cause he stood next to me, and he wants to get funny with me." Tony's eyebrow rose again, and he stared at the man he almost dealt with.

"You gettin' funny, pal?" Tony unbuttoned his suit, and with his left arm, he pulled back the flap and showed a gun attached to his belt. The man looked and laughed even more. Tony's brow lowered and he pointed at the man, shouting, "Yo, do you know who's bar you're in? You're in Sal fuckin' Maroni's bar, and you're here acting like a clown? The hell's the matter with you buddy, you lookin' for a poundin'?"

Laughing hysterically, he stared at Tony and Gio, beginning to speak whilst he laughed.

"A clown? Oh, how'd you come up with that one?" The man smiled at him, and his white skin glistened from the light. The red lipstick that was illuminating had a singular white circle at the crest of his lips. His gleaming green hair was parted nearly perfectly, yet not too perfectly due to the hat hair from the top hat. "How original... Some handsome fellow like myself comes in, asking for a drink, and you Maroni boys have to raise your little noses at me like I'm some schmuck that'll listen. It's like a modern Robin Hood, and you're Maroni's helpers and I'm the poor guy you're trying to save from the rich." The man leaned himself on the bar, and put his hand on his forehead. "Help me, help me! I'm lost without the help of Maroni! Please help, please heeeeeeelp!"

The man let out one long, muttered laugh, staring directly at Gio. Tony's upper lip was perched up, simply staring at the man. His anger was boiling over the pot, and he was about to explode. Gio looked over and saw Tony a ruby red. It had been years since Gio had seen Tony like that, and the last time ended with a long night, a grave, and him washing the blood out of his thousand dollar suit for over an hour.

Before Tony could talk, the man kept talking. It was like he was performing for the people that were watching him. The embarrassment that he would've felt before was not there, and it was seemingly reversed. Where he would've been embarrassed, he now felt enthralled and engaged with the people staring at him. He was so close to death before, and finally, with a second chance of life and a new mind, he strived to never be embarrassed again.

"And, y'know, between you and me boys, if you're trying to save the poor, you probably shouldn't dress like them." Tony erupted, and leaped at the man in the purple suit. He grabbed him by the collar, and threw him against the bar. Gio shortly followed, backing up his main man. Gio grabbed the man's left side, and Tony grabbed him by the right, pinning him against the bar.

"What the fuck is your deal, buddy," Tony said without moving his teeth. Saliva protruded through the gaps in his mouth, hitting the man in the face. He laughed even louder. Gio gave the man a swift left hook to the face, yet the man continued. Gio, now, was angry, yelling, "STOP LAUGHING!" This only accentuated the man's laugh, and it grew and grew. The bartender standing on the opposite side had this look of pure disgust. Never before had he seen a man laugh after being punched by a man twice his size. He stared at the man's emerald eyes and he saw joy. A sick joy that he had never seen before. Even as the blood formed around the rim of the man's mouth, his green eyes brimmed with excitement and happiness.

The two men punched the man in the purple suit repeatedly. Not once did his laugh cease, rather, it grew to almost a screaming snicker. It echoed throughout the bar, and the patrons simply stared. Beatings like that were normal, but usually they entailed someone begging for mercy. Not once was someone asking for more, and laughing about the beating they were receiving.

Tony grabbed the man by the collar, and threw him down on the dance floor. The man's powdery white face was mixed with a dark maroon from the blood. That laugh that grew and grew from the beatings started to descend to a chuckle, then to a giggle, then to a short murmur of excitement, until it stopped completely. Gio and Tony stared at the man and saw the blood of his face drip onto the floor. As soon as they took their first step towards him, the man raised a finger up, and the two men stopped in their place. Slowly rising up, the man stared at them and slowly a smile started to form. The same smile Gio saw when he first met him was right back on his face, and a feeling of fear started to form within Gio.

"Y'know," the man said slicking his hair back with his two hands, "you called me a clown, but you two punch like a bunch of clowns, if you ask me. Go back a few weeks ago, and look at the beating I took, you guys look like a bunch of girl scouts fighting over some Tagalongs. Hah!"

The man laughed for two reasons. One was because out of nowhere he laughed at the beating he took from Batman a few weeks prior. When he awoke, his memory was hazy, and paired with the intense physical and mental trauma he received from both the Batman, the chemicals, and the intense mind control from the Mad Hatter, his mind was nearly vacant. Slowly, as more trauma was brought back into his life, his memories began to form again. The intense beating he just received from Tony and Gio began the assemblance of two black fists pounding away at his face. His own laugh echoed in his mind, for he was confused as to who those fists belonged to. Who beat him in such a way that caused this much physical trauma to him? Not that he could understand this trauma to begin with, but the thought captivated him all the same. His mind was a wasteland, but piece by piece, and trauma by trauma, a new oasis of memory began to form. The realization of this memory was followed by a laugh, for his mind was starting to form again and he didn't know how to handle it in any other way except to laugh. Laughing was all he knew how to do. The second, well, was simple: what he said was quite funny.

Tony, however, had an opposite reaction. His anger simply grew. What was once a ruby red was more like a maroon now, and he was at his boiling point. Gio, still stuck in fear, could see his friend reaching his boiling point. Tony charged the man, punching him as hard as he could in the face, and the man fell to the ground. His limbs went limp, and he fell like a tree, plumping onto the ground. Tony breathed heavily, fully engulfed by adrenaline and anger. He stared at the purple suit laying on the ground, and the green hair that fluffed out the top of it.

Tony kept staring at the man, and surprisingly, he saw the man move on the ground, shuffling his body towards him with a completely different face. He had a face of submission; a face of defeat that completely wiped the smile off his face. The lipstick that was once a cheerful red was now a maroon intertwined with defeat.

"Okay!" The man exclaimed, bringing his arms up in a way of surrender. "I give up, you win. I'll leave. Just help me up, will ya?"

Tony scoffed him off, saying, "Getcha own ass up, and get your crazy ass out this bar. I don't ever wanna see your clown ass again."

The man put his head down, and attempted to get up, but he stumbled, falling down once again. Gio's fear subsided when he saw the man surrender, and he turned to Tony, saying, "Ton', you whacked him up pretty good, I don't think the guy can get up. Help him out." Tony stared at Gio, his lips perched again like before. He shook his head, yet walked toward the beaten man.

"Alright pal," Tony said as he reached his arm out. He looked down upon the man, and saw how beaten he was. He laid in his own pool of blood that was Tony's doing, and Tony's heart began to race. He didn't regret anything. Tony enjoyed seeing him like that. He protected his father's bar, bringing even more respect to the Maroni name. No one was safe if they disrespected the Maroni name, not even a clown. Tony felt a sense of accomplishment, and for once in his life he had the reassurance that he belonged as a shark to the Maroni family. He shined with pride staring at the man, and slowly he reached his arm up to Tony's. The two locked hands, as Tony brought him up. "I'll help you u-UUUUH!"

The instant Tony used some muscle to help the man up, electricity ran through his body. Thousands of volts coerced throughout his body, and his screams could be heard over a block away. The people of the bar screamed as well, rushing out the building. They ran out the building like a bull out the gate, heading to any place but there. The windows of the building when viewed from the outside shined the light blue of the electricity running through Tony's body. Gio's dark brown eyes shined that same light blue, as he ran towards Tony.

"Tony!" Gio yelled as he ran towards Tony. The previously battered man got up, and reached for the gun on Tony's belt, pointing it at Gio. Gio stopped immediately.

"Stop there, fatso. You wouldn't want your friend to be undercooked now, would you?" He laughed immediately after that, pointing the gun right at Gio's head. He looked back into the eyes of Tony, and laughed in his face. Tony's skin was beginning to appear charred and brittle, and his hair was completely gone. He screamed at the top of his lungs, pleading for anyone to help him as his cries for help would go unnoticed for they were overthrown by the laughs of the one responsible. Tony wiggled around, struggling to attempt to break free. As he struggled, his movements started to be slower and slower, and as he stared into the green eyes of the man doing this to him, the life of Tony's eyes began to dissipate. He stopped struggling, and started going limp. His screams stopped, yet the man kept electrocuting him, laughing at his face. It wasn't until he was a darkened black when he stopped, and he let go of his hand. He laughed some more, staring at Gio who just saw his best friend's dying moments. His friend who was just trying to sweet talk the women on the dance floor was now a piece of human charcoal, seemingly unrecognizable compared to the man he saw before.

The man let go of Tony, and kicked him down onto the ground. He spoke as he laughed, uttering, "You fell for the oldest trick in the book! Haha! Dontcha know that a clown always has his hand buzzer handy? Albeit, this one is high tech and the owner told me not to turn it up all the way… Or tweak it to go higher than the manual said. Ah, who knows, I really couldn't hear him through the duct tape." He laughed even more, turning his attention to Gio, who was on both knees staring at his dead friend. Gio looked right at the man, pleading with him.

"Hey man, I won't say nothin', just let me live, please! I have a family, I-I-I don't even wanna be in this business, just money was tight, ya know!"

The man smiled at the mention of the word family. He had no recollection of any form of family, yet the life he lived before his accident was one where he had a gorgeous little girl. One with beautiful blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a gorgeous smile. A smile that was lost in his mind, yet a smile that fueled him to be better in his past life. A smile that kept him going when the going got tough. A smile that, when he saw a mysterious flyer that said, "Help Wanted," and that it paid well, he took it, hoping to see that same smile more often.

"Family," the man said as his smile slightly lowered. "Why would I care about your damn family? I mean, do you think that's gonna stop me from shooting you?" Just as quickly as the smile lowered, it rose again, and the laugh that was still echoing in Gio's mind began. Gio began to cry, staring at the man, completely defenseless.

"Just please… Please don't hurt me…" Gio sobbed, staring down at the ground with Tony's charred body in his peripheral. The man stared at how defenseless Gio was, confused at the situation. Just a second ago he was beating him to a pulp cause Tony said so, and now that Tony's dead, he was crying on the ground. The man lowered the gun for a second, but kept himself the same distance he was.

"Put yourself together man! You crying right now isn't good for that suit you're wearing, so stop it. Be a man. So what? Your friend just burnt to an electric, catastrophic and painful crisp. Who cares?! That's life. Look at me. Just a few seconds ago you guys were beating me senseless, and did I lose my charm? No! Did I lose my to die for personality? Heavens no! Did I lose my devilishly good looks?" The man looked at the reflection from the mirror behind the bar. He inspected his face, turning it side to side. "Well, yeah, maybe a little, but so what? That's life. One second you're riding high, the next your friend is dead and you're staring at his burnt body, wondering, 'What did I do wrong?'" The man acted like an actor, putting his hand to his chin in a concerned way. The performance was unbelievable. Gio stayed there motionless, listening to the man's monologue. The man continued, saying, "Well let me tell you my friend, you did a lot wrong. Maybe you aren't a present father; maybe you're a shitty friend for letting your friend die this way; or maybe you just have no direction in life whatsoever, and that's why you look this pathetic. Don't look to me for answers, boyo, I got a lot of problems of my own. But the core of the story is, you did a lot wrong and your friend's dead now. So what? You can keep going! I'm sure you can get a lot more of your friends killed if you keep this up! So whaddya say my friend? You think you're ready to get up, and continue?!"

Gio looked up at the man, who had a devilish smile on his face with his grin stretching from ear to ear. Amazed due to the behavior of the man, he was unable to speak. He just stared at his smile. His face was still battered but it was like his smile numbed his body to any pain. Or maybe he did feel it and that's the way he dealt with it.

Losing patience, the man pointed the gun back at Gio.

"Alright fatso, get up. I think I wanna talk to your boss on some ideas for redecorating this place. I mean look at it! There's blood everywhere, bodies on the ground, and the place is more dead than Tony! Why don't you take me to him, huh? Get your ass up and walk to your car."

Gio stood up with his hands in the air. The man pointed the gun at him intently, with a malicious smile while doing so. Gio knew this man was a loose cannon, and at any second, just for the hell of it, the man would kill him, so Gio complied without question. The two left the bar, and Gio unlocked the door for the man with the gun. When he sat down, Gio wondered if he could escape. For a moment he saw an opening to leave or retaliate in some way against the deranged man, but he didn't. As quickly as the feeling began, it subsided, and Gio walked around the car and got behind the wheel.

"Drive," the man said with his right elbow leaning out the window and his left hand pointing the gun at Gio. Gio put the car in reverse, and quickly drove to the Maroni crime family's residence.

"Sooo…" said the man with the gun, rolling his head towards Gio with a smile. "What's Maroni like? Should we stop at this store right here and get some wine? Or cake? Or wine and cake? Haha!" Gio said nothing as his heart beat rose to astronomical levels. Sweat protruded from each and every one of his facial pores, and all he could do to keep calm was to watch the road. If he stared at the man for a moment, he knew he wouldn't be able to look away. Despite the man's horrific look, he had a face that you just couldn't look away from. The white skin, the ruby red lips, the glowing green eyes, the green, lifeless yet kept together hair that parted beautifully on his face: all of these contributed to the conundrum of the armed man's persona. How could a man that looks so abnormal look normal at the same time? The normalcy of human life is often overshadowed by the abnormal, yet when the armed man looked in the mirror, he saw beauty. The beauty of his appearance hypnotized the armed man, and despite the bruises on his face, and the blood coming out of his mouth, he loved who he was. There was this self love that you only see in happy, normal people, yet here was this man that just got done electrocuting a man to death, and he was smiling only moments after, enthused by his way of life. It was almost liberating to him. Gio feared looking at a man that questioned his moral compass. His whole life he had this idea of what a happy life looked like, yet the formula he followed met its antithesis with this man. Gio feared him because he didn't understand him, and looking into the eyes of a man that is truly happy, is forever hypnotizing.

"What about cheese and crackers, does he like those?" The green haired man was growing tired of talking to deaf ears. For a brief moment he snapped, slapping the dashboard of the vehicle, startling Gio. "Dammit, talk to me! I haven't had a real conversation in weeks! It's rude to ignore, you know. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"Sorry!" Gio said as he made a right turn after the red light. "I, uh, don't know what Mr. Maroni likes, if I'm being honest. I've only met him once."

The man's eyebrows rose, and he turned to Gio with a crooked grin. "Once, you say… Hmm. What about Tony, huh? Who was he to good ol' Sal?"

Gio swallowed, as he feared what the man's reaction would be revealing to him that Tony was Sal Maroni's son. He wondered if lying was perhaps the best way of going about it. What the man doesn't know is an advantage to himself and the Maroni family. While he did believe this, he also questioned how well he could keep up a lie in the circumstances he was in. His heart rate was skyrocketed, and he was sweating bullets. Even if he kept up the lie, the look of his appearance would possibly give it away and he feared the result of lying to a man with a gun.

"Uh…" said Gio, questioning his every decision in his head. "He was, uh…"

The man pulled the hammer back on the gun, inching it even closer to Gio's head. "Out with it," he said, causing Gio to flinch.

"Tony was Mr. Maroni's youngest son. He was a shark for the family, trying to bring in new people for Mr. Maroni." The man's grin grew even more to the point where it was almost ear to ear. He leaned back in the seat, putting his hand to his chest.

"Whew!" He exhaled, turning towards Gio as he followed his action with a girly giggle. "His son! You've got to be kidding me, G-Man! His son! Woah, we hit the jackpot!" The man danced in his seat while still pointing the gun at Gio. His excitement was through the roof, and he danced his glowing heart away. The happiness that protruded off of him was horrifying. Gio's anxiety heightened rapidly, and goosebumps formed all around his body. The man just killed a son, and upon finding out he did that, he simply danced with glee. Never once had Gio seen such a bizarre set of actions from another man. The laugh the armed man did while dancing could be heard from out of the vehicle, and as Gio passed the cars, for a brief moment the people inside could make out a diabolical, dreadful laugh. Each ear that was graced by the soundwaves shook in fear, and any who were under the trance of driving, were instantly snapped out of it.

"Why…" Gio said as he began to speak. "Why's that so funny?" The man slowed down his laughter, wiping the tears from his face as he began to speak. His accelerated breathing halted, and he turned towards Gio.

"Why's that funny, you say?.." The man thought for a brief moment why it was funny to begin with. The man he used to be tried his best to take control for just a moment to say that it wasn't. It wasn't funny at all. For the briefest of moments, for not even a second, he almost said that. The power of madness subdued him once again like a wave from a tsunami, subduing him further down in the ocean of his watered mind. With grace, his new self took control once again, saying, "How could you ask such a thing, Gio? I mean, it's Maroni's son. He's gonna be dying to speak to me! Oh, I can't wait. He's gonna be delighted to see me."

Gio swallowed as he pulled into the parking garage of the apartment complex Sal Maroni owned the penthouse to. Glimmering with excitement, the man exited the car after Gio parked it, dancing in his place. He pointed the gun at Gio, urging him to get out of the car.

"C'mon, you idiot! We're gonna be late! I told ol' Sally I'd be home in time for the nightly news!" The irony of that statement was that it was 12:30am, and the news was far past over with. If any news was on, it was the rerun of the nightly news at 10 with Vicki Vale and Jack Ryder.

Gio got out of the car and walked by the powdered faced man. He put the gun to the back of Gio as they walked into the elevator, and Gio hit the button for the top floor of the building. Upon hitting it, the intercom came on with Sal Maroni's voice.

"Whaddya want, Gio?" After saying his name, both the man and Gio looked into the upper right hand corner at the camera. The man slid the gun over to where the camera couldn't pick it up, but he pushed it further into Gio's body to make a point.

"M-Mr. Maroni, sir, uh…" The man pushed it further into his body, to the point where it was painful to Gio. Gio winced in pain as he continued, saying, "We got this new guy that Tony brought in at the club. Tony decided to let me bring him cause he wanted to hang back with his new lady friend he met tonight." The intercom was silent for a moment. In the silence, the purple suited man looked up at the camera with a calm, ear to ear smile. Gio was a nervous wreck, hoping that Maroni would catch on to his situation. Finally, Maroni spoke.

"Alright, get ya asses up here. I swear, Tony has a new lady friend once a week." His voice filtered out, as he probably said the last sentence as he was walking away from the microphone. Gio's heart fell to the bottom of his body, but the green eyed man leapt in excitement.

"Whipee! Way to go, G-Man!" He put his hand in the air, signaling to Gio for a high five. Gio stared at the man in fear, and slowly raised his arm up, lightly tapping his hand to the man's. The backside of the elevator was glass, and the lights of Gotham caught the red lipped man's attention. When he awoke after his accident, the first thing he saw was the lights of Gotham City. The beauty of the city left the man entranced, staring at it in the same way he did three weeks prior. Every time he looked at the skyline of Gotham, he found something new. It was so beautiful, and all he wanted to do was see it on fire. He wanted to claim that beauty for his own. Though the city was gorgeous, it was the same city that set him as an outcast. The same city that shied away anytime someone looked at him. The flames of Gotham were all he wanted to see, and he wished to make every light in the city burnt like him.

Arriving at the penthouse, the moment the elevator dinged, the man put the gun in the back of his pants for Gio was now useless to him. The doors opened and the two men walked out of the elevator, seeing Sal Maroni at his desk across the room.

"Gio, you come in. Tell him to stay put and I'll call him in." Gio stopped in his place, staring back at the man in the purple suit.

The green haired man smiled at Gio, saying, "You better listen to him, or you'll be just like your friend. Hehehe." The man laid out a chilling, calming laugh at his normal voice that sent shivers down the spine of Gio.

All Gio wanted to do was go home to his wife and kids. He knew that where he was wasn't the life for him, yet the dilemma he was in was tricky. It was either listen to the lunatic that killed his friend and probably be killed by Maroni, or rat out that same lunatic and most definitely be killed by him. Either way, Gio knew he was probably going to die, yet all he could think about was the warm embrace of his wife and the gorgeous face of his two daughters. He had to act in the smartest way possible. He questioned the odds: Four against one. It's best to rat the guy out, he can't kill four dudes… But what if he does? He killed Tony the way he did, and I don't think he'd care to kill me and Diana and the kids… I dunno what to do, man…

Thoughts coerced through his mind as he entered the office of Sal Maroni. Maroni was pouring himself a glass of scotch on the rocks in his robe, and as he finished, he spoke as he walked towards his desk.

"I tried calling Tony, but no answer. No surprise, he's probably bangin' that girl you were talking about in the elevator." Maroni sat down in his chair, and the two bodyguards behind him stood there, dormant. The two bodyguards were big men with fedora caps, wearing grey suits with black ties. They each had sunglasses on, but you could tell that their eyes were hoping that somebody - anybody - would mess with Maroni.

Gio's face did not change. The situation at hand was keeping him preoccupied, and while he was present, his mind wandered on what to do. All Gio did was smile nervously without a laugh or exhale of the nose. Just a nervous smile to show Maroni that he was there.

Maroni caught on kind of quickly to Gio's expressions. He could see right through the smile and could see something was up. Though he didn't know Gio at all, being one of the most powerful men in Gotham comes with a great lie detector. Gotham City is one of the most corrupt places in the world, and to hold that power, while you too must be corrupt, you must also see the corruption that is around you.

"Are you okay, Gio?" Asked Maroni. Gio's look changed for a brief moment, and he smiled while shaking his head no. He knew that the deranged man around the corner would do something if he gave him up, so he had to be sneaky. He said yes while smiling, but his nervous sweat and the shaking of his head in a negative way implied otherwise.

Gio's mind was made up. He was going to risk the fact that he could be killed by the man who recently killed his friend. He believed that justice needed to be served, yet he was ratting him out to a man that had killed ten times the amount of people the deranged man had. Though Maroni felt justified and he didn't kill just to kill, a life is a life.

Gio began mouthing the words, "TONY'S DEAD," to Maroni. He squinted his eyes to read the lips of Gio, and when it finally set in, Maroni's eyes widened and he leaned back in his seat. He put his hand to his mouth, and just stared at the floor for a brief moment. The reality of his son being dead was setting in, but he shunned the feeling. Revenge was on his mind, and being one of the most powerful men in Gotham, revenge was something he could easily attain. Maroni swallowed his pride, and regained his composure. His heart ached as it mourned over the loss of his baby boy, the youngest of his four sons. Tony was only 22. He had barely lived.

"Who?" Maroni mouthed to Gio, and Gio instantly motioned his head towards the direction of the deranged man on the other side of the apartment. The man in the purple suit waited patiently to be called. He hummed a nursery rhyme he loved, and twiddled his fingers as he rocked his head back and forth while leaning it against the wall. His smile was evident, and he stared at himself through the reflection of the window, unable to look away. He was in love with what he saw, and to look away would be foolish. He'd rather look at himself than look at anyone else.

Maroni nodded his head. All he wanted to do was storm the man on the other side of the apartment and beat him to death, but he stopped himself. He wanted - no - he needed to make it personal. A simple death wouldn't do justice to the life of his deceased child, Antonio Maroni. He eased his fists and he stared at his hands that were ridden with the imprints of his fingers while they formed a tightly wound fist. He swallowed, and his heart rate dropped for just a moment. He had to continue the charade to get the man's defenses down so he could strike. After one deep breath, he nodded to the guards behind him.

"Go on, bring him in." The guards moved from their statue like poses as they walked out of the room to retrieve the man. As they turned the corner, they grabbed the man by the arms, lifting him out of the chair as they walked him into the room.

"Ooowee, man you guys are strong. Do you guys work out? I do a little lifting myself, if you couldn't already tell. Hah!" The two guards stayed silent as they dragged the man into the room with Gio and Maroni. They threw him down onto the ground, and he rolled over once. He picked himself back up, brushing the dust off of his purple suit.

"Gee, you can rough me up, but hands off the suit. The tailor that made it for me worked all night for it! He worked so hard that he collapsed from exhaustion afterwards… Or was that the tear gas? Ah, no bother." He smiled and looked at Sal Maroni. Sal drank from the scotch shaking with adrenaline. He was staring at the man who killed his son and he was telling jokes, laughing afterwards. All he wanted to do was take the gun that was in his desk and blow his brains out, but he didn't. He just stared at him, as his heart pumped adrenaline into every inch of his body.

"So, Gio says you wanna join up?" Said Maroni, talking to the murderer of his son. The man nodded his head, immediately answering him.

"Yeah, something like that." Maroni's anger boiled. His face turned red, and his salt and pepper head stood up in anger. He gripped his glass tightly, restraining himself from progressing. The purple suited man looked all around the room. He saw things that were worth more than what he made, in his previous life, in a 5 years salary. Gold encrusted plates and silverware; countless gems; and a set of ruby and obsidian playing cards that were eloquently arranged and displayed. He stared at the front case, and he saw a clown with a cane, bowing to the unseen crowd. While bowed, you could see the ends of a smile on his cheeks, and his green hair was beautifully slicked back. He appeared to be taken seriously, which is what the purple suited man so desperately wanted. His eyes moved to the name of the deck, and the name read in all red caps, "JOKER'S CASINO".

His glowing green eyes widened. The clown on the cover was everything he wanted and more. An audience to perform for; the respect he yearned for; and most importantly, the riches he dreamt about in his past life. Suddenly, the memories of him begging on the corners of Gotham City resurfaced. He was holding a baby, draped in a bed sheet to keep it warm during the harsh winters. He begged and pleaded for just a dollar, a nickel, or even a penny. Something - anything - to feed the child. He was unaware if it was his child, but he remembered the feelings he had when he believed he couldn't even feed it. The people of Gotham walked right past him, and now, with an opportunity for revenge, it was the only thing on his mind.

The hypnotic like trance the man was in ceased, and he came back to. He stared back at Maroni who was fuming underneath his guise of calmness. The purple suited man laughed under his breath. His mind, bit by bit, was reforming. He couldn't recognize who the child was, or who the two fists were that beat him senseless, but it was reforming all the same. In a strange way, both the person he was now and his previous self were happy with it.

"Why are you laughing?" Asked Maroni, getting up out of his chair. The bodyguards behind him reached in their suits for their guns, and they kept their hands there, just in case. They watched their boss as he walked over to the giggling, green haired man, and Gio stood in the corner, fearing for his life. Maroni stared at the man, and the purple suited man's laugh only grew. Maroni's anger erupted, and he punched the man in the face. The man fell to the ground, and instantly looked back up at Maroni, laughing to his heart's content.

A vein formed on Maroni's forehead, and he kicked the man right in the nose. His head flew back against the ground, and the man's vision became blurred. The laughing did not stop. Gio covered his ears for the laughing he heard only half an hour before echoed in his mind. He saw his friend Tony on the ground dead because of that laugh. He feared for Sal Maroni's life, which was surprising considering the circumstances.

Maroni kneeled down, grabbing the man by the collar, yelling in his face, "DID YOU KILL MY SON?!" The man's laugh turned to a giggle, as he smiled from ear to ear with his teeth locked together.

"Who? Tony?" The man said, staring intently into Maroni's eyes with a grotesque smile. "Well, considering you punch just like him, I'd be glad he's gone." Maroni punched the man repeatedly. All he saw was red as he punched and punched. The knuckles of his fists opened, and to tell the blood of the beaten and the beater would be impossible. Blood puddled next to the both of them, and the room was so silent that you could hear each and every hit due to the echo of the room. Maroni's heart rate reached a threshold it had never reached before, and as soon as it reached its peak, the bodyguards pulled him off the purple suited man.

"Boss... don't kill him yet. Make him suffer." Maroni stopped beating him for a second, staring up at his two bodyguards that towered over him. His hair was like a Pollock painting, running in every direction on his head and face. He backed away towards them, nodding his head and raising his lip in an agreeable expression.

The frenzied state he was in was decreasing, and the first person he looked at was Gio, who was still covering his ears. He looked back at the man, and almost like turning a speaker slowly up from zero, he began to hear the laughter again. He laughed the entire time he beat him, just like when Tony and Gio did. Gio was shaking in fear, and all Maroni could do was question who, or what, he was dealing with.

The man leaned over and spat out the blood that formed a pool in his mouth. He tasted the iron and simply laughed it off with his iron will. He wiped the blood off his paper like skin, and got up. The two guards and Maroni just stared at him as he rose like nothing had happened.

"Man," said the man as he stared at his reflection from the window. "I really cannot catch a break today. Just when I wanted to start my modeling career, boom! My dreams were crushed, just like that." He smiled and turned his head slowly towards Maroni. All he could do was listen as the bodyguards got up and walked towards the man.

The bodyguards grabbed him by the collar and forced him to kneel. They subdued him, but honestly, the purple suited man let them bring him down. He complied with them, and he did it with a lovely smile.

Maroni swallowed as he readjusted his robe, walking towards his desk immediately afterwards. Pulling out the drawer, a set of brass knuckles with spikes on them rested within. He grabbed them, putting them on slowly as he walked over to the subdued man.

"Oooo! Shiny! Whaddya gonna do with those, Sally?" Maroni ignored the man's disrespect. Maroni began to speak.

"Y'know… In my three decades here in this city, I thought I was untouchable. I had gathered so much respect, I didn't think anybody would fuck with me. Not once in thirty years did I think that someone would go after my family, cause I knew that the scum of this city knew that if they did, they and everyone they loved would be dead. Yet…" Maroni walked back and forth while he spoke. The brass knuckles were perfectly set into his fingers, and he talked with hands while doing so. The man looked in awe at the performance of Maroni, envious towards him.

"Yet, here you are. Some two-bit, clown like idiot that just got done killing my son." Maroni swallowed just by saying the words. The reality was that he could do unspeakable things to this man, but the pain of never seeing his son again would never go away. He knew that for he had his fair share of losses being in the business he was in. That wasn't going to stop him however, for Maroni got revenge first, and mourned later.

Maroni cracked his knuckles. He grabbed his fingers horizontally instead of vertically due to the spikes of the brass knuckles. Both hands popped, and the man cackled due to the noise. Maroni grimaced due to the man's reaction, and he stepped closer to him. He kneeled down close to the man's face, speaking directly to him.

"Keep laughing, clown. I'm going to beat the living shit out of you all night, and keep you alive for days. Bit by bit, I'm going to kill you and you'll wish you could laugh after I'm done with you. When you finally stop laughing, I'll finally kill you. You're going to pay for what you did." Maroni hardly moved his teeth as he spoke. The man had a smile from ear to ear as he talked, and his red lips formed a "U" on his face. Maroni stayed inches from his face, and the man slowly moved his fingers to his right thumb. A button at the end was there, and he waited for the perfect opportunity to press it.

"How's that sound to you, ya fuckin clo-AHHHHH!" The man hit the button, and acid flew out of his boutonniere, lavishing itself all over Sal Maroni's face. The acid was a strong acid that was found in the Ace Chemicals Building. Hydrochloric Acid was its name, and its pH level was an astonishing -1.08. The man found it in a test tube at Ace Chemicals when he returned there about a week prior.

Maroni yelled at the top of his lungs as the acid made its way into each and every pore of his skin. It found its way into his mouth, and it leaked down his esophagus and into each of his lungs. A burning sensation was forming both internally and externally, and all he could do was scream. His skin was starting to form a yellow hue, and it shined in the white light of the room.

"Boss!" The two bodyguards pushed the man down as they tended to Sal Maroni. Almost immediately, the lunatic got up and reached for the gun in the back of his pants and shot both bodyguards in the back of their heads. Their bodies fell next to Maroni who remained screaming, and pleading to God for the pain to stop. The acid was burning through his skin, making its way through his skull, eventually killing him. As he screamed, the purple suited man laughed.

"Hahahaha!" Gio was in the corner completely frozen in fear. He watched as Maroni flailed on the ground, and the lifeless bodies of the two bodyguards on the ground. Their eyes were void of life, and they just laid on the ground with holes in their head as bits of their skull and brain were everywhere on the $10,000 dollar carpet.

The man walked towards Maroni, and kneeled down, finally speaking.

"Y'know, I'm frankly tired of the beatings for today. I'm afraid they just don't compare, hehe." He pursed his lips as he watched Maroni yell. His face was almost unrecognizable. His eyelids were gone, and his eyes were beginning to melt. His teeth and white skin were yellow, and his salt and pepper hair was completely disintegrated. The man smiled upon looking at Maroni. Again, he pursed his lips immediately afterwards, saying, "Ah, that looks like it hurts. Believe me when I tell you that I've been there, pal. You'll get through it! I did, and I turned out just fine!" He smiled as he closed his eyes in Maroni's face as Maroni yelled at the top of his lungs.

"GOD, PLEASE! HELP ME! HELP ME, GOD!" Pleaded Maroni. He wished for the pain to stop, but, unfortunately, no one was going to help him. Gio was frozen in fear, and the man responsible was smiling in his face.

The man stood up, and he made his way towards Gio. He put his hand on his shoulder, causing Gio to flinch. The man smirked due to his reaction, and started to speak.

"Way to go, Gio! We did it, my friend! Gotham is ours. Maroni is dead and his seat at the crime table is ours for the taking." He let go of Gio and made his way towards Maroni, who was still screaming. He shot him right in the head, and Maroni's entire body went limp. The acid continued to melt his body, both inside and out.

"Shuddup! Can't you see I'm talking!" The man shook his head as he turned towards Gio. "I swear, people never have manners these days."

Gio was shaking in fear. He began to pee himself; he was so afraid, and he put his hands over his body. The man looked down and saw the trail of pee down his pants, and he shook his head.

"Gio! What are you so scared for? I'm not gonna kill you, you're my right hand man!" Gio still shook in fear, but he looked up past his hands that covered his face. He stared directly at the powdery faced man, and he was smiling from ear to ear with his mouth open and his arms out like he wanted a hug from Gio.

"You-You're not gonna k-kill me?.." Gio said, still shaking.

"God no! You did everything I asked without a second judgement! Why would I want to get rid of somebody like that? I'm not that crazy, dontcha know?" Gio looked down at the three bodies on the ground. Seeing Gio do it, the man looked too, and he pursed his lips once again. "Okay… Maybe I'm a little crazy, but who isn't these days, right?" He smiled as if that was the punchline to a joke and he was smiling at the crowd. All there was was Gio standing there fearfully, unknowing to what the man was going to do next.

"S-so does that mean I can go home?" The man smiled, and turned towards Gio, extending both of his arms outwards.

"Home? Are you kidding me?! You have to call everyone in and tell them about what's going on. Here." The man walked over to Maroni's body. The acid had completely leaked through his face and it seemed like it was over. He reached into his front pocket for his phone, and threw it to Gio. "Call everyone in, and tell them there's a meeting. I'll introduce you and I together as the new bosses. Keep the bodies there to show them that that could easily be them." He slowly laughed as he looked back at the three bodies on the ground.

"Uh… Okay?"

Gio called each and every name he recognized on the phone. There had to have been at least 15 people he called, and within the hour, they all arrived.

As they walked in, the people were a good litter of the Maroni family. Three of them were Sal Maroni's sons, Alfonzo, Alessandro, and Roberto Maroni. The three were completely ignorant to the situation they were about to walk into for both their father and their younger brother were dead. They were assuredly going to be out for revenge. The other twelve were a combination of sharks and just regular people who were a part of the family.

The instant the twelve of them walked in, the three sons ran over to their father.

"PAPI!" They yelled in unison, and as they arrived at his body, the expressionless corpse without a face laid there. The other twelve men were there in shock. They looked over to the right at the man who they assumed was responsible, who in fact was. The three sons mourned over their father's body, but the eldest, Alfonzo Maroni, got up and looked at the man across the room.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! DID YOU DO THIS?!" The man simply laughed, and nodded his head yes. He put his hands in the air, and the man ran at him. Turning the corner, Gio pointed his gun at Alfonzo, and Alfonzo stopped. Completely in shock, he got his gun out and pointed it at Gio.

"Gio, wh-what are you doing? Can't you see Papi right there?" Gio teared up as he pointed the gun at Alfonzo. He shook his head no, barely able to speak.

"You ain't seen what I've seen, Fonzie… Put ya gun down and just listen to him." Alfonzo immediately responded.

"Hell no! I ain't listening to a single thing he says!" The man simply laughed, and he made his way towards the chair at the desk. He twirled it around and sat in it, putting his arms on the desk as he stared at Alfonzo. Alfonzo pointed the gun intently at the man in the purple suit, and Gio shot right next to him. The shot caused the other 12 men watching to get out their guns and point them at Gio and the man at the desk. Alfonzo stared, amazed at Gio's actions. Though Gio had only gone on one run for the family, Alfonzo saw him and Tony together as kids all the time for they were best friends. The betrayal was amazing as it was shocking, and all Alfonzo could do was stare.

Finally he spoke, saying, "Gio, what the hell's the matter with you? Why are you defending him after he killed Papi?"

Gio began to shake, and he stared at Alfonzo with eyes filled with tears, repeating what he said before. "You ain't seen what I've seen, Fonzie… Please, guys, just listen to him." Gio was riddled with fear and regret. The obvious choice was to side with the other 15 men in the room, but he had just got done seeing the man kill three men with ease, and Tony not even an hour before that. The fear that he possessed was otherworldly, and he couldn't bear to see anyone else get killed. Though he acted fearfully, all he wanted to do was save their lives.

Alfonzo saw the fear painted on Gio's face. He stared back at the man that was smiling at the desk, and shook his head. He put the gun down, and when he did, the others did as well.

"Speak," said Alfonzo. The man snickered at the remark and got out of the chair. He turned around, and put his hands at the top of it, and he addressed the crowd. Gio put his gun down, and he stared at the man as well.

"Finally! Sheesh, I was wondering if I would ever get a word in." He laughed, but the 15 men in the crowd reacted stoically. "Tough crowd…" He laughed it off anyway, and continued talking. "You see, gentlemen, it's time for a change in management. Good ol' Maroni and I had a disagreement, yadda yadda yadda, and as you can see, he's dead now and that makes me in charge, considering I'm the one who killed him." Alfonzo formed a fist so tight that his nails were a bright white. The other two sons did as well, and the other 12 men shook their heads due to the loss. "While I'm very broken up about it, I see no reason to stop doing what we're doing. You all will be paid like usual if you do your jobs accordingly, and if you do, there won't be an issue. If you have a problem with it…" The man laughed and smiled grossly. His teeth protruded out, and his red lips lined his mouth in a parabola like form. "Then you can talk about it with me."

The reaction was mixed from the crowd. The twelve men honestly couldn't care less as long as their money was fine. It's not like they weren't upset that Maroni was dead, but it's also not like they were going to outright say no to the man who was now in charge of their money. They were intelligent people who had families, and even though the situation was tragic, they couldn't fix it. So, upon the man finishing his sentence, they simply nodded their heads.

Alfonzo looked at the men and his eyes widened.

"Are you kidding me?! This guy kills Papi, and that's it? All you guys care about is the money?" Almost immediately, they all nodded yes. The money was everything to them, and as long as they were paid and taken care of, they were pleased. The man said that nothing would be different except that he was in charge now, and they honestly never communicated much with Maroni to begin with. All they needed to do was get the job and do it, then report back and say it was done with. Sometimes they didn't even speak to Maroni; it was Alfonzo who saw over the day to day operations.

Seeing the men nod yes, the man cheered gleefully. "Whippee! I was worried it wouldn't go over well, but thankfully you guys are reasonable." He skipped over to the closet, and threw out a bag filled with hundred dollar bills. He found it as he waited for the men to arrive.

He had never seen that much money, and it was almost like finding gold. All he wanted in life was money, and money was the hardest thing for him to find. The memory of him begging in the streets kept replaying in his mind, and he now smiled when he thought of it. The one thing he sought after in life was now his, and as he stared at the money, the happiness he felt buzzed all throughout his body. Finally, after so long, he had the wealth he wished for.

"Here boys! Take it, it's all yours! Consider it a transiton-of-power raise for being so compliant with what's going on. I really do appreciate it." The men smiled with glee and made their way to the money bag. Alfonzo and the two other sons got in the men's way.

"Are you guys serious?! Did Papi's name mean nothing to you? He built this family thirty years ago by himself, and just cause you guys are getting a raise, you don't care that he's dead now?" The men looked at Alfonzo with a rugged look. They reached for their guns, and Alfonzo and the other two reached for theirs. The green haired man jumped in excitement and ran over to the side of the two parties.

"Oh boy! I love me a good old standoff! Gio, my man, get the camera. This is a perfect scene for my movie idea." Gio stood there motionless, completely distraught to the events that had just transpired. He hoped that the men wouldn't take the money and kill the man, and he could be home free. Seeing the men take the money with little to no argument simply broke his spirit, and all he could do was watch the events unfold.

"Get outta the way, Fonzie. You too, Sandro and Roberto." The men only wanted their money, and the three sons simply wanted justice. The purple suited man sat back and watched with enthusiasm.

The two parties were in a standoff, and the room was silent. Silence was one of the only things the man hated, so he started to speak.

"Man, three against twelve. If only you guys had Tony, I'm sure you would have this handled." Alfonzo looked at the purple suited man, his eyes red with anger as a vein formed on his forehead.

"What did you do with Tony…" Alfonzo said without moving his teeth, and barely his lips. The man smiled, and he sucked in air through his teeth. He walked backwards, and shook his head.

"I'm afraid, my dear Fonzie, that our beloved Tony has become one of the finest pieces of charcoal that this world has ever seen." The three sons were stunned to find out the news that their brother was also dead. In a matter of minutes, both their father had been brutally killed and their youngest brother was murdered. The three of them stared at the man, and all they could see was the smile that was so hauntingly imprinted on his face. Alfonzo's anger reached his peak, and he pointed the gun at the man, and his two brothers followed suit.

"YOU SON OF A-" said Alfonzo, and as the three pointed the gun at the purple suited man, the twelve men shot them and they all fell to the ground. The man didn't even flinch as they did, for the reality was that he didn't fear death. Why would he fear something that he was so close to yet survived? When that happened he never looked back, and fearing death was almost a laughable reality. If he was supposed to be dead, he would've died in the vat of chemicals, but he didn't. He survived, and he vowed to never look back. Now, he had all that he ever wanted. Money, power, respect, loyalty: all the things the clown on the cover of the playing card set had. He knew, then, that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

The twelve men shook their heads as they looked at the six bodies on the floor, four of which were Maroni's. An entire family was killed in a matter of an hour, and it was all thanks to the purple suited man. He walked over their bodies and made his way to the display set that held the playing cards. He opened the case, reaching for the cards. As he grabbed it, the power they possessed sent shivers down his spine.

He stared at the cards in full delight, seeing the clown on the front and the brand name saying, "JOKER'S CASINO". He laughed as he looked at the cards, and tears fell down his face. Finally, the identity he was so long without was with him. He was the Joker that he admired so much on the playing card's cover. Everything he noticed from the man on the cover was what he now embodied. His entire life led to this very moment, and it brought him to the point of sobbing over the cards. He brought the cards close to his chest, and through the tears he laughed.

The twelve men looked at the bizarre occurrence, and looked at each other. Never once had they seen such strange behavior coming from a man. After a few seconds, the man stopped laughing and looked at the twelve men. He backed up, and showed the cards to them.

"Don't you see? It was right in front of me the entire time… The Joker… That's who I am. A Joker that has the same respect, loyalty and wealth that this guy has." He showed them the cover of the deck once again, and they looked at it.

One of the men said, "Yeah, that does kinda look like you." The eleven other men looked at the guy who just spoke strangely, only to look right back at the purple suited man.

"All my life, I've wanted what I have now. I was laughed at by the people of Gotham for begging; I was looked down upon for it, even." He made his way to the window and half his body faced it, and the other half faced the men. "Now, I have all the riches that I've ever wanted. I have all the power I've ever wanted. The loyalty is evident, I mean you guys just killed for me for Christ's sake. Everything that I've ever done has led up to this moment, and I can't help but tear up a bit." He grabbed his handkerchief in his front coat pocket, and wiped his tears. His cheerful smile reformed as he looked at his men. "I can't help but smile! I don't want anything else! I'm looking out into the horizon, and I see our potential! This city that looked down at me, and laughed at me will get what it deserves." He started to laugh, putting his hands on the glass, seeing himself in the reflection. "To think that all I saw a few hours ago was a girl with beautiful blond hair and a blank face, carrying a smile that begged me to come home." A single tear ran down his face that belonged to the man he was before missing his daughter. It quickly fell to the ground, and he turned around to the crowd behind him. He formed a fist and put it in the air, yelling, "Well, I am home! Starting right now, we own this city, and if you find anyone that disagrees…" The man turned back towards the window, staring at himself once again. He smiled upon seeing himself, and he finished his sentence. "Tell them to come talk to the Joker."

IX

Bruce returned from the GCPD with a scowl on his face. He swerved into the Bat-Cave with power and dominance and as soon as the car went into park he leaped out of the vehicle, landing with his cape following his every motion behind him.

"Master Bruce, how very nice to see you! I just prepared dinner for you, and-" Bruce walked right past Alfred, taking his mask off and sitting in his chair. He immediately turned on the Bat-Computer, focusing right away on what he saw on the news.

SAL MARONI AND HIS 4 CHILDREN, DEAD. MARONI WAS REPLACED BY A MAN CALLING HIMSELF THE JOKER. "THE JOKER" WAS SEEN THAT SAME NIGHT AT THE MARONI FAMILY'S BAR WHERE ANOTHER MAN WAS ELECTROCUTED TO DEATH, AND HE TOOK ANOTHER MAN HOSTAGE. SHORTLY AFTER, IT IS BELIEVED THAT HE WENT TO MARONI AND SEIZED POWER BY KILLING THE ENTIRE FAMILY. IF YOU SEE THIS MAN REPORT IT TO THE POLICE IMMEDIATELY. THERE IS NO PICTURE, BUT HE WAS DESCRIBED AS TO HAVING A CLOWN-LIKE-APPEARANCE. WHITE MAKEUP, RED LIPSTICK, DYED GREEN HAIR AND GREEN EYES.

Taking off his cowl, Bruce's blue eyes dulled for a moment. It was a mystery as to why he began to think this way but the thoughts came as quickly as they came. They bounced off his cranium sporadically as they tried to make a coherent thought. It was similar to that child's game in which you have 5 to 6 metal balls in a container and you're trying to get them into the small holes that fit the same balls perfectly. These thoughts that coerced throughout his mind were just that.

It's unclear why Bruce thought in such a way. Maybe because his childhood was taken from him so soon that he thinks in a child like way because that's when his life was so obviously divided. His life could be defined as a simple before and after the deaths of his parents. The blood stained bodies that were in front of him were there every second he blinked, every second he awoke, and every second he saw the blood he caused the criminals to bleed every night when the sun set. The blood of his parents weighed more on him than the ten pounds the suit he dawned weighed. It weighed him down so heavily that it felt like his posture was affected because of it. I'm sure everyone feels that way at some point. The weight of a great loss is more significant than any word or whatever synonym of your choosing. It's the weight that's always on you, and the last thing that you remember of them is always there. A casket, a smile, or even the back of their head.

When all the balls came together in their respective places, Bruce leaned forward in his seat and reread the description of the man. It was unlike anything he had ever heard of before in the crime world that he studied for days on end to know like the veins that rested on his hands. He opened up file after file and read through them almost as quickly as they were opened, and nothing. It was like trying to find a specific sentence in your favorite book but the page had been ripped out or removed or torn. It was there in your mind but it could not be materialized or shown physically but it was there all the same. Sometimes in this world some things really are best left unseen by the naked eye.

"There's nothing, Alfred, nothing at all that fits this man's description." Alfred walked towards Bruce and stood behind him, reading the article again. He looked at the man he thought of as his own son, missing the flesh and bones of course, and saw him frantic. Bruce Wayne being as OCD as he was laced with being a perfectionist, arrogant, righteous and intelligent, he did not like being wrong or stumped. He went as far as reading damn never every book at Princeton University frontwards and back just to know everything. He read books of riddles and tongue twisters to be prepared for any question of any kind and give the answer to it correctly. Even when it came to physicality, he trained with men who had taken lives, the one thing Bruce swore he'd never do. He trained under these people to learn restraint and honor, yet what he failed to understand that there was great honor in being ignorant. He refused to be that, and with an iron fist he sought after perfection with a cowl that resembled that of which he feared.

"Well, Master Bruce, perhaps this clown persona is something new to this man. Maybe this was something that he had thought of before and recently dawned like you with the Batman."

Bruce nodded and stared back at the computer. He thought about what Alfred said internally and a new set of balls and holes emerged as he tried to fit them in places that he had no clue if they'd fit or not. His eyes surveyed the computer screen like they were in REM sleep. The balls did as they may yet did not fit. One ball was just rolling over the hole almost as if the hole was missing something. Bruce reassessed the situation.

These were the facts set before him: Three weeks ago in the first week of his tenure as the Batman, he dealt with the Mad Hatter, Jervis Tetch, when he kidnapped the daughter of a man that he may or may not have kidnapped as well and experimented on the man. This was due to Tetch's insanity and infatuation with the story Alice in Wonderland. He had his Alice, and his White Rabbit as a test subject. Unfortunately, Jervis's white rabbit died in a vat of chemicals but the girl who was his Alice was saved, her name being Anna and the white rabbit being unnamed. Now in the present, some mysterious man with no identity killed one of the most prominent crime bosses entire family and seized his position. What was he missing? Why was the ball not fitting into place? Bruce leaned forward and put his elbows on the computer desk, locking his fingers and placing them over his mouth with his nose being between his two index fingers. Were the two related, he thought? Was there somehow something in common between the two cases that happened out of nowhere? Is it possible?

Bruce relooked at the scanners and just looked at any possible news that could be related. He scrolled through, and finally he reached an article that caught his attention.

SEVEN NURSES KILLED BY BURN VICTIM. THE NURSES WERE BLUDGEONED TO DEATH BY THE MAN, AS HE ESCAPED THE HOSPITAL. REPORTS SAY THAT THE RESIDENTS OF THE HOSPITAL HEARD LAUGHING FROM THE SAME ROOM AS HE KILLED THE WOMEN. THE DESCRIPTION OF THE MAN IS LEATHERY WHITE SKIN, GREEN HAIR AND RED LIPS.

Bruce's eyes widened. This article was exactly two days after the incident with the Mad Hatter. It was almost like it wasn't real, the connection between the two cases. Immediately he thought of the obvious: Was the man alive? Was the father of the little girl who Bruce thought he failed still alive? Admittedly, it almost made Bruce happy for perhaps not even a millisecond. It proved that he had not failed and he did not kill a man he tried to save. Though that is not how it went, that is how Bruce felt heavily. He saw the man's eyes as he plummeted into certain death, and he saw the silhouette of the man descending down the depths of the vat of chemicals. How could he have lived? Why would he kill these people? Why did he go after Maroni? Bruce thought.

With these questions in mind, he got up from his seat and put his cowl back on. Alfred was remiss when he saw Batman walking towards the Batmobile, but he didn't say a word. He knew that the words, whatever they would be, wouldn't reach him. He simply watched as the broken man walked towards his car, entered it and drove off back into the night.

The location that Batman was going to was etched into his mind. The neon green lights; the aroma of toxic chemicals; the shine of pollution that the once clean enough to swim in Gotham Bay carried. Bruce remembered swimming in that water when he was a kid. His parents had their own beach of course on their own land. He remembered his father dressed in a bathing suit and his father's hairy chest becoming matted due to the water and the scorching sun paired with the sand he had on his body. He remembered his mother, his beautiful mother, in a one piece bathing suit watching him make a sand castle. For a 6 year old boy, it was a rather good sand castle. It was defined in shape with an obvious design. Bruce didn't know it but it was definitely a motte castle like shape. Maybe he was inspired by his trip to Europe with his parents a few weeks prior to that beach day in which he and his parents walked through an old museum and a specific castle caught his eye. His mother was so proud of his castle, and he remembered what she told his father, her husband, in her pride.

"Oh, honey, wouldn't it be exceptional if Bruce became an artist when he grew up?! I mean look how talented he already is." Bruce remembered his father clear his throat, and look down at the castle and his son who was building it. His pearly white teeth exfoliated out from his mouth giving off the biggest smile, and Bruce immediately smiled back at his father letting out a little giggle as he continued to play. Thomas Wayne replied to his wife.

"That would be great, honey."

Batman parked the Batmobile in the alleyway between the buildings across the street from Ace Chemicals. He grappled to the roof of the building and made his way down to Jervis's lab. He didn't really see the validity of returning back to that place for he believed the case was closed. The Mad Hatter was detained, the men who worked for him were under wraps as well, and unfortunately the only other man that was present at the scene had died.

Entering the lab, he turned on his scanner in his cowl to look for anything that was missed at the scene. The tape that the police had for the investigation scene was still there. He crossed over it and saw ruins of the place he was at just three weeks ago. He saw the dried blood on the floor of the man that he believed was dead.

Batman kneeled down onto the ground and placed his palm on the dried blood. He knew nothing about this man but he had such a lasting impression of him that he couldn't stop thinking about him. He thought about the girl who was now in the Pinkney Orphanage in south Gotham in an all girls home. Batman arose from the kneeled state and continued surveying the scene. Nothing had changed from when he was there previously. Giving up, he turned away from the scene.

I'm just grabbing at straws, Bruce thought to himself. He wanted more than anything to be right about this case in the fact that he wanted this man to be alive. To fail to that magnitude that early in his career was taking a toll on him. He needed to be faster; better; stronger. Everything about his failure lit a fire in him to be better in every regard.

Bruce stared back at the dried blood of his greatest failure, and turned away. He placed his hand on the corner of the wall that led to the exit.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you." Bruce let go of the wall and continued to walk.

ACCESS DENIED, INCORRECT FINGERPRINT, said a speaker in each corner of the roof. Batman turned back and looked at the place he had just placed his hand on.

ACCESS DENIED, INCORRECT FINGERPRINT

A lightbulb; a eureka moment; a huzzah erupted from Bruce's mind and soul. He turned back and stared at the wall again. The scanner picked up nothing unusual on that specific part of the wall. He switched from an X-Ray dominant scanner to a heat signature scanner in which it revealed fingerprints along the entire wall. Immediately knowing what to do, he dialed for Lucius Fox.

"Why, hello Mister Wayne. I love these unannounced calls at one in the morning. What can I do for you?" Lucius was just getting into bed with his wife, Tanya.

"What is Bruce Wayne calling you for at one in the morning? Tell that pretty boy to call in the morning." Lucius raised his hand to his wife in the kindest way. Lucius Fox was the kind of man to open the door to anyone, to answer his phone at whatever time, or to lend an ear or a shoulder to a friend about any and everything. His heart was as good as gold, and to a man he respected as much as Bruce Wayne, he would bend over backwards to do what he needed for him. He knew that Bruce had been through so much and he was willing to do whatever he needed for him to succeed in this Batman gig. Though he feared ungodly for a person he had known since diapers, he wanted nothing but happiness for Bruce. Though Bruce Wayne had thrown away happiness far too long before that phone call. Before he met Lucius again after he returned for his training as the Batman, Lucius saw such a different shine in Bruce's eyes that he almost appeared as unrecognizable. All the same, he wanted to do whatever he could for Bruce to bring that shine back once again.

"Sorry for the late call Lucius, but I need a favor. I need Jervis Tetch's fingerprint from the GCPD file. These ones here in his lab are too old to make into a fresh print. If I have the outline of it and I transfer it to the fingertips of my gloves, putting it on an existing one paired with my body heat will probably open this door. Can you do it for me?" Lucius got out of bed and put his glasses back on. He left his bedroom with his wife sighing in content and resting her head on the pillow once more. Lucius went into his office in which he sat in his computer chair, turning his computer on.

"Of course, Mister Wayne, you'll just have to give me a few moments to boot up my computer. GCPD's system is so outdated that I'm sure me getting this computer up and running will take longer than me sending that print to you." Lucius was indeed correct, and when he was able to get into the GCPD's servers, he sent the live print of Jervis Tetch to Bruce.

Getting the print, Bruce thanked Lucius. "Thank you, Lucius. Get some rest and sorry for interrupting your night. Tell the Misses dinner is on me soon." Lucius let out a nice laugh, almost a chuckle.

"Will do, Mister Wayne. Good luck and stay safe."

Bruce hung up the call, and typed on the computer on his wrist. He stretched his thumb out and the thumbprint of Jervis Tetch encompassed his thumb, and placing his thumb on the scanner, the speaker said: ACCESS GRANTED.

The door slid open, and Batman watched as it did so. The lights turned on slowly and a secret room revealed itself. With the lights fully on, Batman walked into the room and stared around it. There were papers and lab results on the wall, with a giant computer on the left wall. The right wall had a plethora of the same devices he saw Jervis Tetch use to control his victims three weeks prior to Batman finding this room. The wall directly in front of Batman had a whiteboard of many things. The left side of the whiteboard had caricatures of characters from Alice in Wonderland. The middle of the whiteboard had the schematics of the devices on the right of the room. Notes and critiques of them around specific areas Jervis intended on critiquing. The right side of the board had something very distinct. It was just three names of characters from the book. The White Rabbit, which had a check mark by it, Alice, which had the same, and the Cheshire Cat, which had a question mark by it. Bruce's eyebrows scrunched as he began to question what that meant.

The white rabbit is obviously the man, and Alice is obviously the girl. Why is there a question mark around the Cheshire Cat? Did Jervis not find him in time? What was he trying to do, or create?

The thoughts bounced around in Batman's head as he continued to survey the room. He walked to the left side of the room where the computer was. He got out a flash drive that was a password decrypted and inserted it into the computer. Within seconds he was allowed access to the computer, and when he was, the tabs were still open from the last time. Schematics of a new type of device Jervis was working on was present. This one was significantly smaller and was placed around both ears like a type of cochlear implant. He read the notes about the device and they said as follows:

The device attaches to the outer ear, but resonates with the inner ear. It resonates with the auditory cortex of the temporal lobe, and from that resonance, words or specific frequencies/amplifiers/tones, can be heard by the wearer of the device. From this resonance, the device travels through the brain to the occipital lobe of the temporal lobe in which it can display images that uses the lens of the eye with partnerage of the rods and cones to see clearly and in color. This device can elevate the previous popup book idea and the previous VR idea for books to an entirely new level. Something that can be made cheaply and affordably can let kids all across the world access audio books on the go with visual stories to accompany them.

This is the biggest innovation for reading on the go in human history. Finally I broke through the wall that held me back, and the chains that restrained me. Soon I'll have enough money to be fully free of poverty and sleepless, hungry nights in which I slaved over this idea. The only problem is my partner fears the side effects of this device. When the device malfunctions, and when studied the device has a 18% failure rate, it can resonate with the wrong lobe. Since the lobes are so close to one another, the resonance can affect the frontal lobe instead, the lobe most responsible for one's personality, free will, and voluntary movement. Of the 18% failure I mentioned, my partner was one of those failures at a time. He was brought down quickly, but when the device malfunctioned, he was sent into a frenzy. He could not stop laughing. He tried to attack me, and he damn near strangled me to death. Being so short and weak, I was helpless. I could only stare my partner in the eyes, as I turned the machine down as quickly as I could. It took about 25 seconds for him to snap out of it, but those 25 seconds were truly terrifying. I cannot forget the look in his green eyes that I saw. He looked so manic and insane that it almost seemed like deep down in his subconscious he was awaiting to be free like this. I believe that the look in someone's eye is a subliminal emotion that reflects a person's true meaning. You can change your facial expression, your tone and your feelings on something, but at the end of the day the shine of your eye is almost irrefutable. When my partner strangled me, laughing with such delight, the look in his eye was freedom.

I understand my partner's resentment of this device, but I truly believe with some tweaking and some changes, this device can help children and people all across the world to access the joy of books whenever they please. If I can convince my partner that it's worth the risk and I can get the malfunction rate as low as possible, perhaps he'll accept to take this device to companies all across the country. We're sitting on a goldmine of possibility.

When Bruce finished reading, he ducked his down and stared at his feet. He closed his eyes, shaking his head as he did so.

Their intentions were so good, where did it go wrong? Bruce continued through the files of the computer, and he saw the mockups Jervis mentioned in the notes of the device. There were countless prototypes of the device. Jervis dedicated his entire life to the device, and it could tell in the meticulous notes he left about the device that most likely drove him to insanity.

Jervis sounded completely sound here in these notes, so I can only deduce that he used the device on himself and the malfunction occurred. I feel sorry for him, oddly enough. That's what had to have happened to that man before he died… Bruce remembered why he was there in the first place, and he snapped out of the trance he was in. He was trying to tie the pieces together of the murder of Sal Maroni's family, the murder of 7 nurses a day and a half after this man died, and the man who Bruce saw die in front of him the night he encountered Jervis Tetch. He surveyed the room, and something stood out to him. On the table next to the computer he was just searching through was a deck of cards. He grabbed it, and the box revealed that it was an Alice in Wonderland themed set of cards. He looked through the deck, and oddly enough, there were three cards that stood out. The Jokers of the deck were the Cheshire Cat, the White Rabbit and Alice herself. Bruce's eyes widened, and the white ominous shine that were his eyes when he wore the cowl were nearly perfect circles.

A link.

A link was finally established. The man who died was Jervis Tetch's "white rabbit", and in this set of cards, the white rabbit was the Joker of the set. Bruce took a step back and simply stared at the card in his hand to make sure. It was exactly as he believed. The man he failed to save was alive. In disbelief, he wanted to make sure he was absolutely correct. He went back to the computer, and there he saw something incredibly vital.

The computer opened the document and across the screen read:

THE JOURNAL AND LIFE OF JERVIS TETCH AND THE MAN KNOWN AS CLINT DAYMOND

Batman curled his eyebrows, and looked intently. He read through the document, and a whole new world of possibility opened up to him. A world that he had no clue he was ready for, but a world he leapt into all the same.

X

Five Years Ago

Jervis Tetch had finally gone back to Gotham University of Neuroscience and got his doctorate degree. At age 30, it was his crowning achievement. He exceeded everyone's expectations. Being a little person of astonishing low height and physique, being 4'11", 115 pounds, he had to rely on his brain. Being constantly bullied through school, he was not remiss to eating by the garbage cans with no friends, getting the eye from his fellow classmates.

That did not stop him from graduating top of his high school class. The rest of the top 10 hated Jervis. He was an introverted man, and kept to himself. His only friend was a childhood friend that he had had since he was in his 6th grade year. He mentioned him in his valedictorian speech, thanking him for all that he had done for him. He was his rock, Jervis's friend, and Jervis knew it better than anyone.

Jervis always remembered how they met. The two met nineteen years prior to Jervis graduating college, and twenty-four years prior to their encounter with the Batman.

Always being bullied just for his physique, Jervis was bullied from a very young age. In Southern Gotham, the roughest part of the city, Jervis's life was a living hell. One afternoon after school, Jervis was cornered by his bully and his posse. His bully, Ben, was as mean as the average 11 year old, pre-pubescent child came. He had scruffy brown hair, brown eyes, and a black eye that he probably received from his older brothers in a wrestling match. Ben was always beaten by his brothers, because he was pretty small. However, there were not many people smaller than Jervis was at that age, therefore making Jervis the perfect target for Ben's projection.

Ben and his friends cornered Jervis after chasing him into an alleyway. Jervis at the time was barely 4'2", and Ben was, like normal 11 year old boys, 4'10". Ben towered over Jervis, and his shadow took up all of Jervis's body. All Jervis could see were Ben and his three friend's silhouettes from the setting sun that peaked its way through the alleyway they were in.

"Please, Ben! I don't have any money, I really don't!" Jervis emptied his pockets inside out, and nothing but lint fell out of the pockets. "See, I ain't lying to you!"

Ben pushed Jervis to the ground, and Jervis fell. He rolled on the ground, and his almost blinding blonde hair was a real mess after the fall. He looked up through his hair, and saw Ben walking towards him. The other three boys stood back, letting their posse's leader take care of what he needed to take care of.

"Yeah, yeah, I know you're hiding it in the backpack. That's where it was last time."

Jervis, in disbelief, pleaded with Ben. "What do you mean?! Last time I didn't have any money either!"

Ben grabbed Jervis by the collar with both of his hands, lifting him up towards his face. Ben's breath reeked of the salty pasta they served at school that day.

"Oh yeah," Ben said with a smile. "That's right, you didn't." Ben kneed Jervis in the stomach, and Jervis immediately winced, grabbing his stomach with both of his arms in a fetal position. Jervis grunted in pain, and tears fell down his face. Ben shoved Jervis over with his feet, pushing him onto his back from his side. He saw Jervis crying, and Ben simply laughed.

"You're already crying, after one simple knee? Man, you're such a baby. I oughta-'' Jervis was in shock as he heard a bottle crack over Ben's head. Jervis stared up, and through the sunlight, he saw the hundreds of shards of glass scatter throughout the alley. It was like it was in slow motion. The brown bottle's shards were like stained glass along the sky, as he stared up like an ant on the ground, seeing the beautiful glass spread apart in an instant. The sun made the brown illuminate into a beautiful auburn, and it looked simply breathtaking to Jervis. Time came back to normal, and Ben fell on the ground.

Ben grabbed his head, and he groaned. "Man, that hurt! Who the hell threw that?!"

There, across the alley, was a boy the same age as them. All Jervis could see was his figure, but he was tall for someone their age. He had to have been at least 5'2" already, a whole foot taller than Jervis. The other three boys turned around, and saw the kid standing at the end of the alley.

"Stop messing with him," said the kid who threw the bottle. He looked like something right out of a movie. A hero saving a little boy who couldn't defend himself. His coat drifted in the wind, and he walked towards the four boys bullying Jervis. Jervis, as he watched the boy, imagined a guitar rift playing as the boy walked. Each step was the downbeat and his theme music was crescendoing upon every step he took towards the four boys. Ben was bleeding from the bottle that exploded on the back of his head, so he just stood behind the three boys there. The three boys charged the kid, and the kid kept cool. He dodged the first kids punch, ducking under it, rising behind him as he tripped the kid using his left foot. The second kid was able to land a decent punch, causing the kid who threw the bottle's mouth to begin to bleed. He winced, but he managed to tackle the kid who punched him to the ground. He punched him as he dominated him on top, screaming as he did so. Jervis had never heard a scream like that. It was like the kid was letting something out of him that had rested there, boiling and boiling until it came out of the pot. The third kid kicked the kid who threw the bottle in the head, causing him to fall to his side. The kid who tripped, ran back and kicked the kid in the side. More blood took up his mouth, and he was just dominated from there. Kick after kick, more and more bruises formed all over the kids body. The kid was being jumped just for trying to protect Jervis.

"STOP IT!" Jervis yelled, but Ben kicked Jervis across the face with the base of his foot. Jervis's nose was broken in an instant. Blood filled the back of Jervis's nose, and all he could do was watch as his protector without a name was beaten senselessly.

After minutes, the beating stopped, and Ben and the kids ran away. The kid who threw the bottle just laid there, and Jervis was on the ground as well. Jervis crawled toward the kid, grabbing his arm and shaking him.

"Hey… Are you okay?" The kid laid there motionless for a second. Jervis's eyes widened. He stared at the kid's chest, and he didn't see it move at all. Shakingly, he shook the kid more. "HEY?! ARE YOU OKAY, ARE YOU ALIVE?!" Like last time, the kid was completely still and lifeless. Jervis was trying to comprehend the situation. Even though he was bullied, he had never experienced anything like this. He knew what love was because his mother loved him so much. For an instant, he remembered staying up late and his mom reading him story after story to bed, and pleading, "Just one more! Just one more!" In an instant, he felt his innocence leaving his body like a ghost leaving its host. He began to shake like the anxious mess he was. Right when it was setting in, however, the kid who seemed lifeless shot up like a canon.

Jervis's heart came out of his chest. He shot back like a frog, and just watched as the kid who saved him laughed and laughed. He rolled on the ground laughing his ass off, and Jervis was just sitting there, confused as hell.

"Hahahahaha! Man, did I get you! Hahaha!" Jervis shook his head in disbelief, and yelled at the kid.

"What the-?.. I thought you were dead! You weren't moving!" The kid continued to laugh on the ground. Eventually he stopped, and his laugh steadily lowered and he just stared at Jervis's confused, dumbfounded face. This, again, caused him to laugh.

"Hey, what's so funny!?" Said Jervis to the kid. Through all of this, Jervis noticed how truly happy and sincere the kid's laugh sounded. His laugh was as genuine as they came, and his face was pure bliss.

"Your face is what's so funny! Haha, man I wish I had a mirror so you could see yourself." Jervis scowled at the kid, shaking his head.

"Well, I thought you were dead! Of course I was freaking out!" The kid laughed again, but slightly lower. It was more like a giggle, a chuckle if you will.

The kids kind of sat there in silence for a few seconds. Not more than maybe 10 seconds, but a lull in the interaction happened all the same. Jervis broke the silence.

"Why would you go and pull something like that anyway? It wasn't funny at all." The kid smiled after that statement. He smiled right at Jervis, staring at him with his eyes closed.

"Awe, silly, it was hilarious. Comedy is subjective anyway, so if I thought it was funny, that's all that matters." Jervis never thought about the situation like that before. He could tell the kid was mature, both physically and mentally, after he said that.

"Well… I guess if you look at it like that, maybe it was kind of funny." Jervis chuckled slightly, and grinned at the kid who saved him.

Another lull happened, and the kids just sat there for not more than 30 seconds in silence. Again, Jervis broke the silence.

"Why did you save me anyway? What was that all about?" The kid smiled, and he laid down, staring up at the pink, yellow and blue sky that was above them. He put both of his hands behind his head as he laid back, resting his head on his hands. He smiled as he stared at the beautiful sky overlooking them.

"Cause no one should be treated like that. I've seen you around school, and I've seen how those boys and everyone treat you. It's not right. I saw them chase you after school and I followed you guys here. Right when I saw it got physical I interjected." Jervis was in awe by the heroics of someone in equal age as him. His eyes twinkled in admiration of the kid who saved him, and his heart shook with excitement. It was like something out of the stories he loved so much. A hero saving someone in desperate need of help, with no concern of their personal outcome.

"But, you got hurt way more than me, so maybe I should've protected you." The kid laughed as he stared at the sky.

"Oh, nah, I get it worse from my old man. Those kids were weak in comparison." Jervis stared down at the ground after the statement. He wondered how someone was heroic like that when he was being beaten by their own father. Jervis thought of his own father quite often. As a kid, he would ask his mother, "When is daddy coming home?" His mother never answered him because his father was dead. He was murdered in cold blood in South Gotham on his way home from work one day, and the killer was never found. GCPD didn't care about the residents of South Gotham and it was obvious. For weeks, Jervis's mother would go there pleading with the officers to reopen the case and to do anything they could do to try and find her husband's murderer. They shunned her away with ease, and the cops at the office stuffed their faces with donuts. After constant rejection, Jervis's mother gave up, accepting that there was no hope.

"I'm sorry…" Jervis said to the kid.

"It's no biggie, I've gotten used to it. Besides, it makes me stronger at the end of the day. As long as I keep smiling, nothing can really hurt me now can it?" He turned his head toward Jervis, smiling ear to ear at him. Jervis, again, was dumbfounded by the kids behavior. How could he be happy with all the obstacles in his path? How could his smile seem so sincere and be cascaded with absolute bliss? Jervis smiled, barely, back at him, and sat leaned back like him. They both lied on the ground in the same position, watching the clouds dance along the beautiful sky.

The longest lull occurred and the two boys didn't say anything to each other for a while. Probably close to 3-5 minutes they both just watched the sky. This time, however, the kid broke the silence.

"Have you ever dreamed about getting out of here?" Jervis turned his head and stared at the kid.

"What do you mean?" Asked Jervis.

"I mean exactly what I said." Jervis internalized the question to the best of his ability. He was actually happy in the studio apartment with his mother, and he never questioned their lifestyle. They had dinner every night and watched TV together. They slept on the same bed, but Jervis liked that. He loved his mother to death, and he spent every night of his life with her. Even at age 10, Jervis's mother would read to him the stories he loved so much. Alice in Wonderland was his favorite by far. He dreamed of going to that world almost three times a week. The endless pits, the Queen of Hearts, the Mad Hatter, the Cheshire Cat, even Alice herself were present in the dream. When the kid asked Jervis that question, it was only then did he realize what those dreams meant. He wanted to get out of the world he was in, and be free. He wanted to escape the confines of what his reality was and be in the world of his dreams.

Jervis smiled when he realized that. He turned back from the kid, and looked back up at the sky. "Yeah, yeah I have."

"Me too," said the kid. "I dream of getting out of here, as far away from my old man as I can. I wanna be an actor. I wanna go to Hollywood, or Chicago, hell anywhere but Gotham. I hate this place, it smells and so do the people." The kid paused for a second. He turned back towards Jervis. "What about you? What do you wanna do?"

Jervis had never been asked that by anyone other than his teachers. He always found it fun to say something new every time. A firefighter, a cop, an astronaut; anything that would satisfy the person who asked it. He never once said what he truly wanted to do. For some reason, this kid who had saved him seemed so genuine and heartfelt, that he felt it was okay to tell him.

"I wanna be a writer. I want to create stories, and I want to elevate storytelling to a whole new level. Ever since I was a kid, I loved everything about stories and I want to tell my own some day."

The kid smiled with glee, and he responded to Jervis. "A writer, ey? Hey, maybe you could write a screenplay for me and give me the leading role when we both make it someday. I hope it's a comedy. I think it better suits me, cause I think I'm pretty funny myself. I don't think I'm cut out for dramas, they're just too sad. Who wants to go to a movie or play and cry? That's lame." Jervis laughed at the kid as they watched the sky. Quickly, a realization popped into Jervis's head as he shot up.

"Hey, I just realized I never asked you for your name. What is it?" The kid leaned forward too, staring at Jervis.

"Well, since I wanna be an actor, I'm thinking of changing my name. Y'know, I think I'll change it now and give you the honor of calling me by the name I've thought of for the first time." Jervis smiled and stared at the kid.

"Okay, okay, what is it?"

The kid stood up, and bowed to Jervis. "The name's Clint Daymond. I think that's a pretty badass name for an actor, don'tcha think? What's your name, anyway, my new friend?"

Jervis stood up as well, revealing his name. "My name's Jervis Tetch. It's nice to meet you, Clint!"

Jervis reached out his arm and the two shook hands, smiling as they did so. This moment sparked a friendship that would last for a very long time. Time passed and the boys were men. Each had a growing experience. Through high school, Jervis gave up on being a writer. It was a decision that didn't take much time because he fell in love with something new: neuroscience. He loved the intricacies of the human brain. More specifically, he loved how the brain reacted to emotion. Happiness was something that resonated with him, and when he was the happiest was when he read stories of any kind. He would get butterflies in his stomach when stories were good, and though he loved to write, he loved the brain even more after his first exposure to the subject in high school. So, Jervis went through high school top of his class and went on to Gotham University of Neuroscience with a full ride scholarship.

Clint Daymond dedicated his life to his dream, however. What he said to Jervis on the day that they met was still true as time progressed. In high school, Clint was in theatre and was the leading actor in almost every play. In theatre, he fell in love. His girlfriend's name was Sasha, and she too was an actor. She had the same dream as Clint. The two dreamed of the bright lights of Hollywood. Clint dreamed of seeing his reflection through the lens of the camera, and to see himself on the big screen. He dreamed for the stars hoping to be one of his own one day.

Jervis progressed through college, and at age 30, as previously stated, he graduated with his PhD, a wonderful achievement. He already had a job lined up at Daggett Industries in the R&D department doing research on the brain. His life was full of bliss. He didn't have a girlfriend, or any romantic partner whatsoever, though. He was too dedicated to school to think about anything else, however, he was open to the idea of being with someone. Jervis thought about being with women quite a lot, admittedly. At age 30, he was a virgin and it kept him up at night. He questioned if his goal was worth sacrificing his love life over, and this is something he thought about time and time again. He yearned for someone that he could share his heart and genius with, however, the opportunity never arose itself. Jervis was always in his head, overthinking every minute detail there could possibly be. He questioned his looks, his height, his validity as a man. He feared being absolutely vulnerable because he had never had the opportunity to do it before with anyone other than his mother or Clint.

Clint after he graduated high school moved to Hollywood with his girlfriend Sasha. They had no money, so they hitchhiked all the way from Gotham City to Hollywood, almost the furthest possible route you can travel going from the northeast to the southwest of the country.

"We made it, Sasha!" Clint's eyes glinted at the bright lights of the city. His face shined brightly and whether that was the lights of the city or his dreams being right in front of him for the first time was debatable. The city was gorgeous; it had everything Clint dreamed of. "Pinch me, Sasha, I can't believe this is real!" Sasha pinched Clint, and Clint grimaced only to immediately smile. "Wow! It is real!"

The truck they were in stopped, and the couple exited the vehicle. Clint gave the driver $5, and they went their separate ways. The two had friends they were going to stay with for awhile while the couple were getting on their feet being in a polar opposite city to Gotham. While Gotham was dirty, rat infested and rummaged with crime, Hollywood was clean, well kept and nearly crimeless. It was a utopia in comparison to the city the two grew up in. While the future was uncertain for Daymond, he wasn't scared in the slightest to take on the unknown.

Clint lined up a job as a barista at a local coffee shop. The hours were good, and he took the opportunity to practice his lines and prepare for his auditions. He was honestly getting quite comfortable with his life. As he was going home from work, he got a call. It was a call for his first audition as an actor.

"No way, you gotta be kidding! Alright, alright, uh huh, huh. Okay, 10am on Friday, I'll be there!" Clint ran up the stairs of his apartment building with the biggest smile on his face. He had butterflies in his stomach, and the biggest grin on his face. He was blushing a deep tomato red in excitement to tell his girlfriend. He knew she was home because she was a bartender at a bar not far from the apartment. Clint scrounged for his keys, and quickly opened the door. What was on the other side of the door was something out of a nightmare.

Sasha and their other roommate were having sex on the couch in the living room. They were completely naked, and Sasha was on top. Sasha leaped off of the man, scrounging for her shirt to cover herself and yelled at Clint.

"Clint! I'm sorry, it's not what it looks li-" Clint closed the door immediately, and butterflies turned into piranhas eating away at his insides. Their teeth were shredding and gnawing away at him piece by piece from the inside out, and all he could do was stand there. His legs were shaking, but he found the strength to walk away. He walked back towards the stairs he came up from, and when he heard his girlfriend come out of the door, he began to run away.

"Clint, please, let me talk to you!" Clint bursted through the door and ran down the stairs as fast as he could. He got to the ground floor in a matter of seconds, running away from the building. He ran as fast as he could down the street, and each step as his body shook from the impact, a tear fell down his face. He turned the corner and ran as fast as he could, only to turn another corner into an alley. He slowed down, and his run turned into a jog as he progressively slowed down only to fully stop entirely. He hunched over, hands to his knees, out of breath. As he panted, tears rolled down his face. He fell to his knees, and his chest was pounding. The once excitement turned into complete dread and loss, and all Clint could do was sit there in the alleyway, now completely alone. The boy was only nineteen years old, yet he felt completely alone in the world at that very moment. Not a single set of eyes interested him, let alone one heart.

Clint sat there for hours, motionless, afraid and alone. Midnight came and his watch went off, snapping him out briefly of the trance he was in. He stared at the watch, and up at the sky. The alley had bright lights for the fire escapes, but through the lights, he could see the dark sky with no clouds in it. He saw the moon towering over him, staring at him like a spotlight. He remembered his audition in only ten hours, yet he had no clue what he was going to do. He had no car, Sasha was the one with the car that she had just recently bought for the two of them. She had the only set of keys, however. He didn't have any other means of transportation, so Clint just walked to the bus stop. He got onto the bus, and he saw some homeless people on it sleeping. He walked to the very back left where no one was at, and he sat down. He stared out the window, expressionless. Minutes past, those minutes turning to hours in a single blink. Clint sat in that spot for six hours, and as six AM approached, he finally fell asleep. His alarm went off at eight, and he woke up. Someone was sitting next to him, and he startled them. They moved seats, and Clint willowed in his own self pity and embarrassment. He checked his watch, and stared at the general area around him. He knew where he was, and he knew the bus well enough to know that he would get closer to his audition if he stayed on it a bit longer.

Nine thirty came and Clint got off the bus. He dragged himself through the doors of his audition office, walking to the front desk.

"Yeah, I've got an audition at ten with a 'Mr. Blake,' where can I find that?" Clint's hair was a mess and he smelled a bit because he stayed by the dumpster in the alleyway and he was on the bus for nine and a half hours. The front office woman guided him on how to get there despite being shocked that that's how he showed up for an audition. She gave him the directions with the stink eye, and Clint went on his way. He got to the audition room, and saw his competition. They all had on the same thing: white button up shirt, a blue tie, a black suit jacket, slicked back hair, black dress pants and black dress shoes. As he entered the room, they all stared at him. Clint's hair was like a Pollock painting, he smelled, and he was completely out of dress code. He had a shirt that had his coffee shop's name in big bold letters on the front and back, jeans and slip resistant black work shoes on. Clint had lost all hope for the audition after locking eyes with his competition, and he sat down already in defeat.

About twenty minutes passed and the casting agent walked into the room with her eyes drawn to a clipboard. "Daymond. Clint Daymond." Clint rose out of his seat and raised his eyebrows up and down at the woman.

"Here," said Clint as he waved at her. She inspected him, and immediately remarked about the dress code.

"Yeah, sir, you're out of dress code. It was very clear as to what you were required to wear for the audition." Clint nodded his head, and stared down at the floor. The lady saw Clint's expression and felt pity for him. Even though it was unethical, she let Clint audition. "Well, let's hope you kill it in the act that they'll overlook you being out of dress code."

Clint's expression changed slightly. He went from complete dread and despair to a light smirk with a tone of sameness and solitude. Clint followed the woman into the room, and he locked eyes with the director and one of the producers. They stared at him, judging him immediately. His chest began to pound exponentially, and the iron grip of anxiety was overtaking him. He stared back on the ground and walked towards the X in tape on the floor. He heard papers rustling as they surveyed his portfolio as an actor. The director cleared his throat before speaking.

"Well, you're out of dress code so you're off to a bad start already." Clint tried to hide his shame by not making eye contact with the two men and the casting agent by the door. He simply swallowed and sulked in his fading pride and dignity.

"I'm sorry… I had a rough night and I couldn't make it home to change."

"I can see that," said the director as he pointed up and down Clint's body. "You look a mess, no offense." The director chuckled slightly as he bumped his producer on the knee under the table. Clint, looking down, saw this and swallowed the last ounce of pride he had as he stayed silent. The director sighed as he gave the benefit of the doubt to Clint. "Well, read us the lines. Let's see if you wow us." He put on his glasses, and grabbed the script on the table. "Next to you is the script, we're gonna see if you're quick on your toes cause we're looking for that for this role." Clint looked over and saw a highlighted script next to him. He reached for it, grabbing it and brought it up so he could read it. "Ready?" Asked the director. Clint nodded, and the director began reading the lines.

"Listen, I don't think we're right for each other… I've been having second thoughts about us lately, and I just think we need some time to think things over. For both of us, ya know."

Clint didn't change his emotions whatsoever. His voice came out flatter than a sixth grader learning how to play an instrument for the first time. His vocal range was negligible, and his emotion was completely lackluster. The sight of Sasha and his roommate lingered in his mind. Her being on top of him and the face she made was all too prevalent in anything he wished to see in front of him. The pages were just words on paper with no meaning.

"What do you mean I thought things were going well where is this coming from," Clint gave no pause to dictate emotion or grammatical structure to begin with. It was just a stream of words leaving his lips that were protruded from the throat due to the vibrations of the vocal cords. There was nothing else to the words he said. He didn't even stare at the director or anything, just at the ground. His face was stiff, and he simply felt nothing. That anxiety he felt previously was gone and he just felt numb. He was above feeling anxious or nervous because the last meaningful thing he saw with his eyes was replaying over and over. His eyes were simply body parts to him at that point because all he could see was exactly that.

The director raised his eyebrows and stared at Clint. He saw the dread that Clint was in, and pitied him once again and said the next lines.

"I think you know where this is coming from… Don't bullshit me, Ashton, you know exactly where I'm coming from." Clint, again, reacted no differently than he did before. As soon as he was about to open his mouth, the director cut him off. "Alright, alright, that's enough. Thank you for your time, have a good one." He tossed Clint's portfolio to the side and went immediately to the next one. Without a word, Clint left the room.

As he closed the door, he stood there for a brief moment. He heard the murmurs in the room, and ever so quietly, he heard the director and the producer laugh. It was nothing more than a giggle, but it was there all the same. All Clint could do was just stand there in embarrassment and regret. He always knew in the back of his mind that his dream to be an actor was something that was impossible for someone like him. Someone who came from nothing was only inevitable to repeat that from whence he came. He knew his future was disappointing, but he held on to his dream because that was all he had. As a child, he dreamed of leaving the place that defined his fate before he even realized it. The chains of poverty and mediocrity were holding him back, and as a child he believed that all he needed was a dream to find the key to unlocking them. As he heard the laughs of the men in the room he just left, the realization that that key was something that was also locked away from him was setting in. The despair of being defined before you write your own definition was truly there, and Clint felt absolute dread. Barely able to muster the strength to simply step forward, Clint did so and left the room.

Hours passed and Clint got off the bus at his apartment. He looked out front on the street and saw his girlfriend's car still on the street. He only went there because he knew she'd be at work. Clint sighed as he entered the building. He made his way up the stairs and to his apartment. He reached for the doorknob, but he paused for a second. He wondered if he was ready to listen to his girlfriend at all. He remembered all of the women his father was with even right in front of him as a kid. He saw as his father was rough with women, abusing them sexually just from the creak of his door as he watched. He thought about the sight of Sasha with another man, a man he called a friend. Clint took a deep breath, calming himself. He grabbed the door knob, twisting it and entered his apartment.

Sasha was on the couch waiting for Clint to be back. She immediately shot up as he walked through the door.

"Finally you're back, Jesus Christ, I was up all night waiting for you." Clint walked right past her and into their bedroom. He grabbed his backpack and started packing. He grabbed his two of each essential clothing: shirts, pants, jeans, jackets, underwear, socks, shoes, etc. He completely tuned Sasha out as he scrounged for these things. Annoyed and feeling entitled, Sasha pushed Clint against the dresser, yelling as she did so. "Talk to me! I've been waiting up all night for you, the least you can do is talk to me." Clint didn't even look Sasha in the eye. She had a knack for making every situation appear like she was in the right and he was in the wrong. Usually Clint went with this because he was so afraid of conflict. He was afraid of being shunned like his father did to him at an older age. Clint hated violence of any kind, verbal or physical. His heart would pound almost through his chest when any argument of any kind took place. Clint just knew that if he looked his girlfriend in the eyes that he'd forgive her. Deep down he knew that he was right to act this way. Cheating in his mind was something that was completely unforgivable and he didn't want to budge on that stance. So Clint brushed off the shove and continued to collect his things.

Sasha shook her head side to side, and her anger turned into pleading. "Listen, Clint, baby, I'm sorry…" Sasha grabbed Clint's hand and almost immediately, Clint swiped his hand away from her. He almost spoke to her, telling her to not touch him, but he kept quiet. He continued to grab his things, shoving them into his backpack. Sasha sat down and put her head into her hands, staring at the floor. Clint finished packing his things, and started walking out the room. Sasha looked up and stared at Clint's back, and got out of the bed, following Clint to the door. She bolted in front of him, blocking the door.

"Listen, Clint." Clint, again, did not stare at Sasha because he didn't want to listen to her. He could see in his peripheral that she was staring at him intently with a distressed look in her eyes. "I know I fucked up, I do. I'm sorry. But you not saying anything isn't helping the situation… Please just say something to me, anything!.."

Clint swallowed. He had no words to say because he feared with his whole being that if he spoke it'd be in a fashion that would lead to them making up. He didn't want that, at least at that moment.

He exhaled, and finally Clint looked at Sasha in the eyes, remarking, "Please get out of the way, Sasha." Clint barely even moved his lips as he spoke to her. The two locked eyes, and she was shaking as she stared at him. Clint was numb and expressionless. His tone of voice was almost a whisper but it carried as much weight as a scream. Sasha bobbed her head down, moved out of the way, and Clint left the apartment without looking back.

Clint left the building and walked three blocks down to his favorite diner. A waitress he befriended worked there, her name being Elaine. Clint walked through the doors of the diner and almost immediately locked eyes with Elaine who was working at the bar pouring coffee.

"Oh hey there Clint!" Clint smiled slightly and walked towards the bar, sitting down and sat his bag down next to him. He stared down at the bar, placing his hands on it as he locked them together making his hands appear to be one fist. Elaine walked up to Clint, and with her perky smile and tone, asked, "What'll it be, the usual?" Clint didn't respond and just continued to stare at the bar. Elaine's expression changed as she leaned forward, staring at Clint's face that was covered by his hair. Clint's black as coal hair hung from his scalp like a dirty mop upside down. The hair covered his tears as they fell slowly down his face, and Clint began to shake in his place. Elaine, worriedly, went around the bar and took her apron off. "Hey, Jeff, I'm taking my break now." Jeff in the back simply said okay, and continued to work.

Elaine put her arms around Clint, but Clint flinched. Elaine took her hands off him immediately, apologizing, "Sorry, Clint, sorry about that…'' She sat next to him, and just let him know she was there. "It's okay, Clint. Whatever it is, it's okay." Clint shaking slowed as the sweet allure of her voice and perfume made their way through his nose and ears, rummaging their way to his heart. Second by second his shaking decreased and his tears slowly declined. She continued to comfort him, but did not touch him.

Minutes passed and Clint looked up at Elaine who had the most worried look on her face. All he could see was the beauty of her face. Her face was plain with no makeup, but she glowed from the midday sun that made its way through the window like an in law making their way through the door during the holidays. Her hair was a bright blonde, most likely dyed. She had a tattoo that was red and green that made its way up her neck. Despite the lack of makeup, she still had rosy red cheeks and beautifully pink and lucious lips. She had a great body for she was curvy and spunky in her physique. She was someone that knew she was pretty and felt no need to go the extra mile because just her being herself was beautiful enough. Clint blushed behind his hair that acted like a curtain. As he sat up, he pushed his black hair back, revealing his elegantly emerald eyes. He took a deep breath, and stared at Elaine as he wiped the tears from his face. He nodded his head, and smiled ever so slightly at her. She smiled back at him, and put her hand on his thigh. This he allowed, staring at her.

"What's wrong, Clint?" Clint chuckled, and leaned forward on the bar stool he was sitting on. He didn't say anything, so Elaine spoke again. "Is it Sasha?.. I mean, did y'all…" Clint looked down at the bar again, and put his mouth to the sides of his fingers that were up. At a certain angle it almost looked like he was praying like a nun or a beggar during the times of the crusades, but he was not a man of religion in the slightest. He was simply striking a pose.

"I see," said Elaine as she leaned forward towards the bar as well. She didn't say anything to him after that and just sat there. Sometimes in life all we need is for someone to just sit there with us in a time of need. Even their body heat will warm a broken heart and mind to the best of its abilities. Clint turned to look at Elaine, and she smiled at him. The sun hit her eyes perfectly and her blue eyes were almost a baby blue in the sunlight. The two locked eyes and Clint looked away. There, locked in his eyes, was the sight of Elaine and how beautiful she looked just smiling with the sun hitting her face.

"Thank you," said Clint without looking at Elaine. Elaine smiled and tapped Clint on the leg as she got out of her seat, going back around the bar.

"Any time, Clint."

Clint stayed there for hours. He didn't say anything but he had nowhere else that interested him. The pit in his stomach throughout the day was lessened as he just watched Elaine go about her shift. She's so beautiful, Clint thought to himself. Realizing he had just gotten out of a relationship in an awful way, he shook his head in negligence at the thought of another woman. He sipped his water, yet him and Elaine locked eyes every five to ten minutes. He got a vibe from her that maybe she was thinking the same thing. He reminisced back to when he had first moved and she had just started work around the same time at that diner. The two actually got to know each other fairly well because Clint would eat there two to three times a week, and almost like clockwork, Elaine was his waitress. Sometimes Sasha would be with him, however, and Elaine wouldn't be their waitress. This odd occurrence never set off a bell in Clint's mind until that very moment, and, well, with the two of them locking eyes and the blush on her face, Clint tied two and two together. Again, Clint shook his head as he thought about another woman so soon after what had happened with Sasha. Not even twenty four hours had passed, yet Clint was thinking about Elaine.

Taking a sip of his water, Elaine walked up to Clint as the diner was slow and steady. She sat next to him with a stool between them, and the two looked at each other. Clint's eyes were still swollen due to the tears he had shed hours before. Elaine smiled at Clint, and she spoke finally after the two not speaking for hours.

"So, where are you gonna stay?" Clint raised his eyebrows and swallowed. He shook his head and raised his hand in the air.

"I really don't know, to be honest with you, Elaine," said Clint. He noticed Elaine raise her eyebrows, and without hesitation almost, Elaine spoke.

"Well, at least until you get back on your feet, why don't you stay with me? I mean, I know it's soon and I'm sure you could find someone else to stay with, but-"

Clint cut her off and stared her dead in the eyes, saying, "I would love to stay with you, Elaine, if you don't mind that is." Elaine blushed and tried to cover it up by cowering behind her deadpan expression. The two didn't smile at each other, and she just nodded her head. She got up, and as she walked she talked.

"Well, I get off in an hour. Make yourself comfy until then and we'll be on our way home after that, and I'll show you the place." Clint nodded and his heart began pumping faster.

I'm staying with her now?.. What could that lead to, I mean, I think she likes me so what could that lead to? Clint scratched his forehead as he tried to distract himself from rushing his mind into these thoughts but he couldn't help himself. What-ifs littered his mind, and he thought about these things for the entire hour wait, even though he tried not to, not successfully in the slightest mind you.

An hour passed and Elaine grabbed her coat from the coat rack. Clint got up and put his backpack back on, and followed Elaine. She grabbed her coat, put it on, and as she did she turned toward Clint.

"Well, it's not that long of a walk to the place, maybe like 5 minutes. You don't mind walking, do ya?"

"Not in the slightest," Clint said, "it'll feel good to stretch my legs after sitting for so long."

Elaine chuckled at Clint's remark as they left the diner. The two walked side by side to Elaine's place, and as soon as they left, the two struck conversation.

"You already look better, so that's good." Elaine looked up at the buildings that towered over them, and Clint responded.

"I really appreciate you being so hospitable, you really don't have to do all this."

With a smile, Elaine responded, saying, "You kidding me, Clint? We've known each other for quite awhile, so I'd like to think of us as friends."

Clint smiled as he put his hands in his pockets, walking side by side with Elaine. He nodded his head as he wondered what true friendship was. Sasha, someone he had loved since his junior year of high school, almost at the first chance she got, slept with someone else other than him. He didn't want answers but he had so many questions he wanted to ask. Why? How long? When? All the questions in the world could be asked but he didn't want a single answer because they wouldn't have been good enough. The pain of heartbreak can cause a man to be numb, and numbness in a way is a fate worse than any hardship, death, or cruelty. The inability to feel and enjoy the life you live is a fear that Clint had his entire life. The dream he sought was there in that town, but so far, the town of dreams was filled with the nightmares of real life hardship and pain. Why would she do something like that to him when he felt like he had done nothing wrong? He was always there for her when she needed him, he was communicative, he was everything he believed a good boyfriend and partner should be. He wasn't perfect by any means, but he did try his best. Stemming from this thought, he thought about the one true friend he felt he had in the world and that was Jervis Tetch. He was just starting school at the time, but Clint knew that Jervis had a bright future. He was jealous of Jervis in a way. Jervis could use his mind to reach his dream, but Clint had to rely on his own dream to reach his own dream. There was nothing else he had but his dream. He wasn't smart like Jervis, but to act is to dream of being another and that's what he needed to rely on to achieve the dream he wanted.

"Yeah, I do too," said Clint after a pause as he thought of these things. Elaine chuckled as they reached her place. "Here already?" Clint asked as she opened the door to her apartment building.

"Yeah, like I said it's a pretty quick walk." Elaine opened the door as the two of them walked into the lobby of her complex.

"Wooooww, this is pretty nice. You can afford this place just working at that diner?" Elaine laughed as she reached to press the button to the elevator.

"Yeah, the tips are good enough and my dad pays for half of the rent."

"Ohhhh, I see," Clint said immediately after she finished talking. In a blushed way, Elaine responded to him as she played along.

"What do you see, Clint?" Elaine could barely hold back her smile, and she bit her bottom lip in a cute, expressive way as Clint talked to her. Clint's longish black hair looked beautiful to her. His green eyes were like emeralds with two black dots in the center surrounded by a sea of beautiful white dwarf stars. His pale skin was beautiful, and the veins you could see from his neck were attractive to her for some odd reason. Everything about him appealed to her, and the fact that the man she wished to be single for so long was about to be in her apartment with her made he feel the need to smile. She couldn't shake the thoughts that littered her mind as well. Is the house clean enough for Clint to see? Oh shit, did I do the dishes? What is he gonna think of me if he sees the house like that? The bell dinged, and Clint responded to her as the two entered the elevator.

"Oh, nothing, just I can see how you can afford this place. It's a lot nicer than me and Sash-" Clint cut himself off as he didn't even have the strength to say her name. That brief stint of flirting between the two of him was the first pause of happiness he had felt since he saw Sasha with his roommate. He looked down at the ground, and wiped his cheek, swiping over his lips and down his chin. Clint swallowed, and looked right back at Elaine. Elaine's blushed complexion was wiped and she felt genuine worry for the man she had affection for. "I'm sorry," said Clint.

"No, no, it's okay. I understand how you're feeling." Clint's eyebrows rose as he looked at Elaine. She grabbed her arm and looked away from Clint towards the door. She could faintly see her reflection, more so, the silhouette of her body.

"What do you mean?" Asked Clint.

"The first boyfriend I had ever moved in with also cheated on me with someone I knew. It fuckin' sucked. I couldn't eat for days." Clint shook his head at the thought of anyone hurting Elaine that badly. Elaine continued. "The pain of losing someone you're so close to is tough, but at the end of the day, even if we want to live our lives with others, we have to live our lives for us. It sucked being cheated on, but it made me stronger in the end. That was four months ago, and look at me now. I'm self-sufficient, I'm happy, and hey, I met you a week after that." Elaine paused and stared directly at Clint. "That has to mean something, don'tcha think?" The two locked eyes and stayed like that for almost three seconds. Staring into the eyes of the one you have feelings for feels like the vacuum of space. There's no sound, no air, only a vacuum and what's right in front of you. Clint stared into Elaine's blue eyes; Elaine stared into Clint's green eyes. A missile could explode right next to the two and that couldn't break them out of the gaze they were in. Looking into each other's eyes, the two felt at peace as if there was no other place they would rather be except staring into each other's eyes and this was their heaven.

As quickly as the moment began, it ended as the elevator rang, arriving at Elaine's floor. Clint stopped looking first, and pursed his lips together. Elaine bit her top lip as she left the elevator, turning left towards her apartment as Clint followed. Elaine, following the moment she and Clint shared in the elevator, completely forgot, like a dream that faded upon waking, the nervousness she had for Clint to see the apartment for the first time. She opened the door without a second thought, keeping the door open for Clint as he walked in.

"Wow, this place is great." Clint surveyed the room in awe. The apartment was quite cute and Elaine had pride in it. Elaine peered into the kitchen behind Clint's back to see if there were any dishes in the sink, and there weren't. Elaine was a neat freak and without fail she would not sleep or relax if the house was dirty. Relieved, she looked back at Clint who continued to stare at the apartment. Elaine walked in front of him, and nodded her head to get his attention.

"No shoes on the carpet please," she said as she took her shoes off and put them in the area between the door and the start of the carpet. Clint did the same, and as he looked up as he put his shoes down, she gestured toward him. "Follow me, and I'll take you to your room." Clint followed Elaine as they walked across the apartment to Clint's new room. Elaine opened the door and turned on the lights, and as she did she began to speak. "Well, this is technically my study but I sleep in her sometimes when I wanna mix things up." Clint loved what he saw. There were flowers on the desk that had Elaine's desktop on the desk. She had pictures on the wall of her and her family, and Clint blushed slightly as he saw her brim with happiness and joy in the pictures.

"This is great… I really like it, thank you, Elaine." Elaine nodded and smiled, backing up as she did so. "Well, I'll let you get settled. Feel free to make yourself at home." Elaine exited the room and closed the door. Clint set his stuff down and sat on the bed. The images of the exchange he and Elaine had in the elevator was replaying itself over and over again. Her beautiful eyes and gorgeous face gleamed because of the white light of the elevator. For a time he forgot about Sasha entirely, and all he thought about was Elaine. A thought process like this is out of the ordinary, but for someone like Clint, honestly, it wasn't surprising. He was always going from one thing to the next like clockwork. In high school, when he had broken up with, within a week Clint was already in a new relationship. Though Clint could never admit it to them, he feared being alone more than anything in the world. So even though he was hurt that he broke up with them, or he was broken up with, the fear of being by himself eclipsed all of that. No matter what he always wanted to be with someone because he feared what he would be like if he didn't have a single person to ground him. Even though he was with Sasha the longest he had been with anyone else, he couldn't ignore what he was feeling for Elaine. He trusted in himself the emotions he felt, and the emotions he felt were very real. He doubted himself in many other places, but his sense of right and wrong was something he believed in strongly. Before he saw Elaine earlier that morning, Clint was numb to everything. The thoughts of seeing the person he loved with someone else replayed over and over, and that paralyzed him into feeling anything else. The steps he took, even, to get to the diner that Elaine worked at felt like walking with a ball and chain, being restrained back by the thought that plagued him ever so. Almost like he had just woken up for the first time in many hours, the numb feeling that cascaded over Clint's entire body began to cease. The feeling at the tips of his fingers and toes came back as he thought of Elaine. Elaine filled Clint with the life he thought he lost hours before. Though he may have been jumping the gun, he couldn't stop himself from pulling the trigger.

Clint sat there for quite awhile just thinking about the possibilities. He was unaware that two hours had passed, and he was snapped out of his trance by a knock on his door. He shot up, and looked around. It was already getting dark, he saw as he looked out the window. He looked back at the door, and he walked towards it, opening it. There he saw it. The face of someone so beautiful. Her face was fair, but the beauty she illuminated through Clint's eyes and heart was almost blinding. How could beauty like that exist, and how could he stare at it without falling to his knees? Moreover, how could he feel like she felt the same as he did when she stared at him? That she, too, felt the rush of affliction and emotion that enveloped him as he stared at her, thought about her, and was around her. Was such a thing possible? Was that love? Clint wondered if he had ever felt love before because the feelings he felt were far stronger than the feelings he had ever felt for any one else. The name Sasha was like a distant memory to him, and there was only Elaine, Elaine, Elaine. The blue eyed girl with blonde hair looked him directly in the eyes, and like a whirlwind of love and emotion, she remarked, "Dinner is ready." She smiled, and walked back into the kitchen. Those three words were the most beautiful thing Clint believed he had ever heard from a woman because they were words that she had said. The butterflies in his stomach felt more like pterodactyls because he believed that no butterfly could make his heart putter with such force.

Leaving the trance he was in, Clint left the study and walked into the kitchen. When he smelled the food from the kitchen it was only then that he realized how hungry he was.

"Man, that smells delicious," Clint remarked. Elaine smiled with her back to Clint as she stirred the pot.

"Well, since you're feeling down, I'm making a big pot of chicken and dumplings. It's what my mom made me, actually, when I went through the same thing with my ex. I asked her for the recipe and she was nice enough to give it to me." Elaine dug the spoon into the pot, and got a few scoops out for Clint. Clint sat down, and as Elaine put the soup into the bowl, Clint spoke.

"Well that was real nice of her." Elaine walked towards Clint and set the bowl and spoon down with the biggest smile on her face. Her teeth were almost impossibly white, and they seemed to shine even brighter as she talked to Clint. She sat down next to him with a bowl of her own, and the two ate together.

"Wow, this is fuckin' delicious, holy crap!" Elaine laughed as she put the spoon in her mouth. Clint gobbled down the bowl of food quickly, and enjoyed every single bite. Before Elaine even took her fifth bite, Clint was done with the bowl of food.

WILL CONTINUE

XI

Bruce read everything in the Ace Chemicals building's secret room. He now knew the long, in depth history between Jervis Tetch and the man that went by Clint Daymond. As he finished the journals left by both Jervis and Clint, he paused for a second. Clint and Jervis were such good men; honest, hardworking men dedicated to their dreams. Yet a device with the best intentions destroyed their minds, plunging them on the path that Bruce witnessed the bitter end of. Placing his hands on the table, Bruce sighed in disgust to see men with such kind hearts falling down a hole such as that. He thought back to his days of training in Kyoto, and how close he was to killing the man that killed his master. If it were not for the sense of fear he felt looking into that man's eyes, he most definitely would have killed him. If it weren't for his father's voice in the back of his head saying, "don't," then he most definitely would have killed him. He pondered the fact that he very well could have gone down the same path Jervis and the man who was known as Clint went down.

Regaining his composure, he exited the room and called Alfred.

"Alfred…" Bruce paused as he collected his thoughts after the plethora of new information was bestowed onto him all at once it seemed. Almost immediately, Alfred answered the call.

"Yes, Master Bruce?"

Bruce put the USB he grabbed from his utility belt and inserted it into the computer. He downloaded all the files, sending them to Alfred as they downloaded immediately.

"Look at the files I just sent," Bruce paused in his sorrow at the facts he just learned concerning Clint Daymond and Jervis Tetch. Alfred qualified all the information that Bruce just gave to him, and thought it over. Bruce left the building as he thought over everything he had just learned, hanging up the call before Alfred could even say his thoughts on the matter.

Entering the Batmobile, Bruce's mind wandered into far places that he had no control over.

Clint… I'm truly sorry that this happened to you. You, Elaine, Anna, Tetch… You are all victims to such a cruel thing, and that cruel thing is the unluckiness of life and dreams. I will save you, I promise you that. I reasoned with you before and you snapped out of it… I can do it again. Bruce had no clue where to find the Joker at all, but he believed he could possibly find him where Maroni used to reside. His old penthouse on the northside of Gotham. He had no leads whatsoever, so he had no choice but to grasp at any straw available. Maybe… Bruce continued his internal thoughts as he rushed to the penthouse. Maybe if I saved him from falling into those chemicals, those nurses would be alive… Maroni and his sons would be alive, too… If I wouldn't have been so slow and flat on my feet, those people would be alive, whether they were good or bad. A life is a life, and it should be protected at all costs. That's what my father always told me and what he stood for, and I am his living legacy. Even as Batman, I represent my father.

Batman arrived at the penthouse, and he shot out of the canopy of the Batmobile, gliding to the roof of the building. The Batmobile drove down the street and parked itself into the alley a few blocks away. Batman glided to the roof, landing elegantly on top of it. His cape reminisced behind him as it drug itself on the ground behind the silhouette of the Batman. He peeked through the glass ceiling and he saw men he recognized as Maroni's thugs hanging out in the living room, and really all over the apartment. Turning on the scanner in his cowl, he surveyed the room for any sight of the Joker, or the man formerly known as Clint Daymond. Through sheer luck, there he was in the main office with just one man. As he saw the outline of him, Batman was shaken with fear. His failure was right there in front of him, in plain sight, and he couldn't move to face it. With every ounce of strength he possessed, it wasn't enough to take but even one step forward to face the Joker. His mind sporadically shot across his cranium, and the thoughts failure, you let him fall, his daughter is alone because of you, there's no hope for him now because of you littered Batman's mind. However, like a light that magically sprang from absolute dark, the thought he can still be saved emerged, and the light of that thought calmed Bruce like a child listening to the rain against their window as they tried to fall asleep. He composed himself, and slowly but surely, he took the step needed to achieve his goal.

He advanced towards the spot of the roof directly above the Joker and his accomplice. He touched the right ear of his cowl, activating the audio receiver in it as he listened in.

"Y'know Gio, I'm really liking this plan," Joker exclaimed as he put his feet on the table. Gio, still deathly afraid of the man he called boss, agreed instantaneously with him.

"Oh yeah, boss, me too," said Gio.

"It's simple! If getting to Maroni was this easy, I can't imagine that getting to Falcone would be that much harder. Think about it G-man!" Joker got up and put his arm around Gio, and with his other arm, he waved it like he was painting a picture for Gio to see. "Controlling both of the strongest mobs in Gotham, now that is power. That's the key to true freedom, Gio. Having the mob at your disposal, and being the one they call bossman? Wowwee, now that's what I call a life that's easy. What is there to do? You intimidate a few cops, you buy off a few judges, you castrate a few wild dogs with some rusty pliers you found in your dead uncle's shed, and voila! You've got the entire city at your disposal. If we pull this off, G-man, you and I will never have to live another day as slaves ever again!" The Joker smiled grotesquely at Gio, and Batman's heart pumped at an insane rate. Hearing those remarks from the man he failed to save was like a knife to the aorta, and his life was leaving him after every syllable the Joker said. He thought about what Jervis said when Clint snapped for the first time, and that he saw a sense of freedom in his eyes as he tried to strangle him to death. He wondered if that even in his crippled state he was now in, was he still seeking the freedom he wanted? Or was the man known as Clint Daymond now free to do as he pleased?

Batman couldn't escape his thoughts, but he tried. He escaped at the very least the daze he was in and made his way to the edge of the roof. It was time to infiltrate the situation and try and amend the failure he thought he carried. He turned around at the edge of the roof with his back facing away towards the building. Grabbing his grapnel gun, he shot at the opposite side of the building, securing himself, and leaped off the penthouse's roof. With the angle he jumped at, as the rope hit the edge of the roof, he was shot through the glass. He retracted the gun, and as he rolled upon entering the building, he holstered it in his utility belt.

The Joker exclaimed as he saw the man he could not stop thinking about. Almost in slow motion, he stared at the fists of the man that pummeled him viciously. He had no recollection of the actions Batman took to snap him out of the trance he was in, just the physical pain he endured that day and the silhouette of his beater, his kidnapper and his daughter with blonde hair. That's all he remembered of that night, yet from his past life, he remembered the pain he endured. Begging on the streets, the death of his wife Elaine, Sasha cheating on him, the casting people laughing at him, his father beating him, his dreams failing: all of it. He remembered all the anguish he went through in his life, and all he could do was laugh at it. Seeing Batman was like a euphoric wave that burrowed him down deeper and deeper into the sea of madness he was already at the bottom of. Looking up from that sea, he saw Batman and all he stood for. It was the antithesis to him, the Joker believed. Everything the Batman stood for: justice, vengeance, good, was the opposite to what the Joker wanted his life to be. He believed there was no freedom in justice, vengeance or being good. No, he believed that freedom was above, or perhaps even below, any standard or definition society placed on the well beings of humankind. If being absolutely insane was the key to the freedom he sought, he was more than happy to oblige the gatekeepers of insanity. Hell, he would let himself in without an assistant. That's how desperate he was to be free of all the anguish he had felt in his life, and now, as he stared at the juxtaposing Batman that just reentered his life, he knew exactly what he needed to do: purge the man that would try and take his freedom away, by any means necessary.

Batman immediately went for Gio. Gio, in his fear, pulled his gun on Batman, only to immediately have his arm grabbed and twisted behind him. Batman pushed against Gio, and he rolled his foot around Gio's foot, sweeping him off the ground. With his shoulder, he slammed Gio to the ground, knocking him out cold in simply three swift motions. He advanced towards the maniacal laughing man in a purple suit across from him. He grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him off the ground.

Inspecting the man, Batman could hardly look at him. His skin was like silk that had been blessed by god; his eyes were like emeralds that could only be found in the world's most prestigious museums; and finally, his hair was parted like he was going to an opera and he had box seats. Everything about the Joker was well put together, and all Batman could do was hope to break it down in hopes of seeing the man he saw for just a few minutes once again.

"I know this isn't you, Clint… You need help, and I can help you." At the mere mention of the name Clint, the Joker's mind pierced with the memories of anguish that plagued his past. Everything that he felt was under the name Clint Daymond, and the memories that were forming once again were painful. In his lunacy, he simply laughed the pain away like it was a nervous tick that he had always done when he felt anything of the sort.

"Clint?" The Joker said in a questioning tone. "If you want Clint, maybe you should look in the Gotham river. I'm sure he's down there somewhere with Maroni and his kids! Haha!" Batman threw Joker across the room, and the Joker rolled towards the wall, hitting it hard as he slammed into it. The China plates that cost more than some people's salaries fell on the ground, shattering. The Joker laughed at the sound and imitated it like a child hearing a word for the first time. Batman stepped towards him, but after his second step, the doors barged open and the Joker's men made their way in. They were formerly Maroni's men, but now the Joker's, and their suits mimicked the Joker's. Some wore purple, some wore orange and some wore green suits, but they all were like an homage to the Joker's color palette.

Batman stopped in his place as the men entered with pistols and machine guns. The Joker stood up from the ground, brushing himself off. "Y'know Batman, or at least that's what the news is calling you, I've been waiting for you for what seems like my whole life, hehe. That pounding you gave me a few weeks ago, oooweee, man does it keep me up at night. That guy you knocked out there, that's like two of you? Sheesh, even he couldn't compare. The chemicals I fell into, charring my skin like a well done steak? Not even close! You beat me with such purpose, such malice. When you are beaten with passion, boy, does it stick with you, haha!"

Making a fist in his anger, Batman squinted at the nine men pointing guns at him. The Joker stood in the back, making it ten men in the room, eleven if you counted Batman himself. The Joker stared into Batman's white, lifeless eyes, yet he saw an anger in him that he could not help but laugh at. He grabbed his stomach in his laughter, and hunched over. His smile was like a parabola on his face, and there was absolutely nothing that could take it away.

"Your eyes speak volumes, Batsy! What do my eyes say, I wonder?" Joker turned around and looked at the mirror, and smiled as he did so. He inspected his face, turning it side to side as he looked over it very closely. He turned back towards Batman, remarking, "Well beats me, I've never really known that myself. Haha!" Joker walked towards the door, and talked more as he did so. "Well Batman, it was great to see you. Maybe if we saw each other in a different setting, I could've gotten you lunch, or maybe you could've gotten the tab you conniving louch! Gosh, if I have to pay the bill every time, I don't really see the value in us being friends… Tst, tst, tst. Boys, give him a swell talking to on manners and being polite."

Joker exited the room, and closed the door. As soon as the door closed, the men in the room with pistols fired at Batman. Batman popped the smoke pellet in his palm and crouched down below the line of fire. He made his way towards the shooters, and he grabbed one of them by the chest, bringing him down to his level. Without even a second to react, Batman slammed him to the ground and punched him behind the ear, knocking him out cold. Remaining low, he spinned on the ground with his leg out, sweeping three men to the ground. He twisted on the ground towards them, and punched the one closest to him in the face, breaking his nose. The smoke made its way out of the room because of the broken window, and Batman rose from his crouched state. One of the men swung at him, but Batman evaded and the punch landed on another henchmen. With the momentum of the punch, the puncher was now behind Batman, and grabbing his collar, Batman slammed him against the wall. As soon as he hit the wall, quickly, Batman grabbed him by the face and slammed his skull against the wall. The man fell to the ground yelling as he grabbed the back of his head. Batman turned back around to the other six men standing. The one the thug punched was able to regain his composure and made his way towards Batman. Batman was gonna let him do whatever he wanted so he could react, but the other five men also advanced in a bull rush like tactic.

Being forced to think without even reacting, Batman grabbed the gel gun on the opposite of his belt to the grapnel gun. He shot two of the men in the eyes before they made his way towards him, forcing them to run blindly. This allowed an opening because they had all directions covered. Batman leaped towards the blind men, and catapulted himself over their bodies, pushing them towards the wall as they hit the wall in full force and stride. As he landed, immediately he kicked with crushing intent one of the thugs in the face, fracturing his jaw. He spun because of the kick, and evaded one of the punches the men threw. He grabbed the arm the thug punched with by the wrist, twisting it back. Batman extended his arm straight up, even above his own head. He waited for the other man standing to attack, and when he did so he leaned out of the way. With his momentum leaning out of the way, he turned opposite and elbowed the man whose arm he held above his head in the middle of his arm, compound fracturing it. He screamed at the top of his lungs, and fell to the ground. The last man standing was riddled with fear.

In a mere minute, Batman had incapacitated nine men. The remaining thug was struck with absolute, unadulterated terror. All he could do was stare at the menacing creature in the room, because no man could do such a thing. No man was capable of doing such things to other men, it was impossible, or so the man believed. But the old cliche that people fear what they do not understand worked to Batman's advantage, because the man's idea of what man was capable of was without a doubt put into question. In sheer disbelief, the man looked at the new foundation of man he gazed upon, because no other man could compare. Batman made towards the paralyzed man, and the man ran out of the room the opposite way, leaving instantly.

Everyone in the room was now out of commission, and Batman made his way towards Joker. Batman's heart rate was simply out of control, and it was only increasing. It isn't easy fighting men like that with such intensity, yet it was what he was prepared to do. Ever since he was a child, he was prepared to do it and now he was. His heart was filled not with joy per se, but with purpose yet littered with angst and dejection over the event that always played in his mind that inspired him to become Batman. His heart felt so many things, such as those and the feeling of deep failure and regret as he faced the man he failed to save. As he left the penthouse building and made his way to the auditorium of the top, he could only stare in disbelief at what he saw.

There before him was what seemed to be a maze of static televisions. The tvs were completely silent, but the static spoke volumes as they lit up the room. He stared in confusion at the sight of the room, and he heard the voice of the Joker in the distance.

"Like what you see, Batman? I've never been a fan of books, movies were always more my thing, but books hold so much value. You can learn so much. One book you can see something so innocent and so pure, and the next, you see the horrors of man and wonder about yourself as you fall down the rabbit hole of introspection." Batman made his way through the television maze, and listened as he did so. "If I were to write my biography, I'd probably title it, 'The Comedy of the Unluckiness of Man.' Now I'm sure you're asking yourself, Bats, 'what's so funny about being unlucky?' Well, I'll tell you! Buckle up because the answer may shock you. Now that I think about it, maybe I should charge an entry fee, or make you sign an NDA…" The Joker paused in his dilemma of revealing his answer. He shook his head, and brushed it aside. "Ah, no worries, who do you have to tell anyway?" The Joker laughed intently for about ten seconds, as he watched Batman go through the maze on the screen he was looking at. Collecting himself, he continued. "The answer, Batsypoo, is that it shows man the funny side of life. Being so unlucky, being spat on by even the bottom feeders really makes you look at life differently. Begging on the streets, being laughed at, you really question if your unluckiness is actually just life laughing at you. When life laughs at you, that gives you the key to see the comedy of the errors of man. The judgement man passes upon that of which they don't understand, now that's just human nature. To think and judge but never confront. Imagine if human nature was confronting everything? Gosh darn it Batman, maybe I wouldn't be here. If I confronted everything, maybe I'd have turned out okay, haha!" Joker paused as he continued, watching Batman make his way through the maze he put together.

"But, despite contrary beliefs, I think I turned out exactly how I was supposed to." That comment was like a wrench to the nuts and bolts of Batman's heart. Implying such things means that Batman's failure was an archetype, a stepping stone to the Joker's identity. Batman couldn't believe that, because that meant he was destined to fail, the one thing he fought his entire life to prevent. He couldn't fail in being Batman, it was unacceptable. That's why he was there, to amend his failure so he could continue being the Batman and never fail again.

"When you are so set on your dream, yet you fail and fail and fail... Hahaha, Batman, you really have to stop and think if the dream is worth it. Or if it was even your dream at all. You mentioned Clint, haha! Clint was so fixated on his dream, yet failed every time. He was even laughed at! Every time he tried to achieve his dream, nothing good came out of it! But looking back on it, I think Clint was looking at the wrong dream… I think he dreamed of freedom. That's the only thing Clint and I have in common, Batsy. The urge to be free of society's woes and discrepancies. You really have to stop and wonder, Batman: is the key to freedom insanity? And does that key open the door that allows you to leap into the ocean without a bottom: The ocean of madness. Being sucked into the ocean of madness and insanity, you really have to look around at every fish, every shark, every damn drop of water and wonder why more people don't do it. It's liberating to be free of any self doubt, any law, and any norm society placed upon you. When you're swimming in the sea of madness, no one laughs at you but yourself. Those that can truly laugh at everything they see, everything they feel, and everything they experience…. Hehehehe, are truly free… After being in the gutter so long, you really have no choice. I was a slave to my dream and life alike until I had no choice but to be free. I leapt into the sea typhoon of mania and craziness, and it spun me around to be the man you see here today. The man that for the first time in my life, when I look in the mirror, I'm happy to see who is looking back."

After what seemed like the Joker's Oscar moment, Batman finally reached the end of the maze. He saw Joker on the other side of a thick set of glass, and he approached it. Joker was leaning back in his chair, smiling as he saw Batman come his way.

"Now, I know I waved your entry fee, but please sign this NDA." Joker pulled out a .44 6-inch revolver and shot the glass four times as it broke, grazing Batman on his right arm. He leaped out of the way, and Joker laughed maniacally down the hallway. Batman grabbed his shoulder, and he stared at his wound. Barely grazed me, I'll be fine, Bruce thought to himself. He got on his feet and chased Joker down the long hallway. Laughter filled the corridor as the two men, completely opposite of one another ran down it. One was completely free of any panic for this was the most fun he had had since the last time he saw him, or so his mind thought; the other was out of reach of amending his failure that weighed him down like the earth keeps Atlas at bay. He reached for it, it was in sight, but no matter how fast he ran, no matter how far he reached, it wasn't even close to him. After every step, every laugh he heard coming from the man, his hope of bringing him back was escaping.

Joker slammed through the door, and he turned sharply down another room with men in it. He hunched over as he tried to catch his breath. The men shot up from their seats as their boss entered the room, and shortly after staring at him, Batman entered the room as well. Completely unaware of his existence, they all looked upon the man that was all over the news. The Bat-Man, the masked vigilante praying on the criminals during the dark nights of Gotham City.

When Batman entered the room, he analyzed it immediately. Less than ten men, and from that assumption he counted seven in total, including Joker. Six henchmen and Joker himself were in the room, less than the room before. He looked at Joker as he tried to regain his breath still, but while Batman's breath remained undeterred, that was the only thing. His mind was staggered, fixating on amending his failure, nearly fetishizing it; his heart was like a nuke after every beat- THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP - and the explosion of his heart beat echoed in his mind, bouncing off the innards of consciousness; his body trembled in fear as he saw the measly smile of the Joker, shaking yet trying to remain as calm as possible as he needed to be calm. Those that trembled were doomed to fail, and he could not fail again, not after how hard it was to fail what he felt like his whole life. If the men could see the light blue eyes of Bruce Wayne's behind the white, luminescent eyes of the Batman, they would see a man radiating terror and angst. The only thing keeping him standing was his will to continue, and the dream he swore his entire life to. With the sheer will to move forward, Batman wound his fist tightly, making his way towards the men who were in the way of his goal.

"I think I'll stay for this round, boys! How many opportunities do we get to play exterminator?! We have a Bat in the penthouse, how many times have you heard that one, guys? Haha!" Joker made his way with the men, and pulled out the knife in his coat pocket. He hit the switch and the knife sprang out, eager for the taste of Batman's flesh and blood.

Fighting was the only thing that focused Batman. Through his anger, he could direct it with his fists hitting the skulls and bodies of the criminals he swore to purge from Gotham. Yet, with Joker staying, he was distant to such a belief. He didn't view Joker as a criminal, no, he saw him as the man he saw at the Ace Chemicals Building - the man he failed to save. He saw him as the man he read about in the journal in Tetch's computer, Clint Daymond, the father of Anna, the husband to Elaine, the wannabe actor. The man he saw was unrecognizable to the man he constructed through his failure. He wasn't like him at all, and Batman could only hesitate in his actions. He stopped as Joker advanced towards him, and in his fear, he simply could not move. It was like he was paralyzed because his mind was moving so fast his body couldn't even move. The second before the knife would have entered Batman's stomach, he snapped out of it, evading it.

Again, he thought back to Kyoto as he trained the way of the ninja. His master, Akira Toshiro, took his anger and shaped it into the will that the Batman had such an abundance of. One of the most important vital beings in Batman's life. He was the first person besides Alfred that Bruce was completely vulnerable to, opening up about everything. Bruce was a closed book to everyone he met, only acting to be the man he needed to be in the public eye. No one but Alfred and Master Takuan knew the true Bruce Wayne, the troubled child fixated on the dream of purging the city of the parasite that took the life of his beloved parents. When he first opened up, Takuan used that to get into his head. He charged him like the Joker now charged him, and Bruce felt the same feeling: fear. He was paralyzed with fear, but always at the last second he reacted. Though his fear was overwhelming, his will drove him to overcome it. Even in a paralyzed state, like a guardian angel, his will controlled him as he persevered past his fear. Not overcoming it, but simply ignoring it for a time, bottling it tighter and tighter.

Evading the Joker's knife, he leaped back. The tip of his cape grazed along the ground in a somber tone, cascading the shadow beneath him with a sense of nothingness. Joker's thugs advanced towards Batman, and he primed himself as he began to fight.

The thugs carried baseball bats, knives, one even carried a firepick. All had the range advantage, so Batman had to be careful. Again, he thought back to his training with Master Toshiro in a similar situation.

Sometimes you will be disarmed and face men who do not fall under the same hardship… Will and determination paired with tranquility will eclipse their outreach on you. As they swing they are open, their bodies and mind. They're only set on hitting you. Take advantage of their lapse in seeing everything around them, and truly capitalize on their disadvantage.

The voice of his dead master calmed him. They were like words you hear from the one you love as they returned from a vacation or a business trip. Just hearing their voice for the first time could be the most euphonizing sound you could ever imagine yourself to hear. Hearing the voice of his late Master calmed him, and he stopped shaking. He remembered his words, and as the most near thug swung at Batman, he capitalized like his master told him to.

The thug geared back as he started to swing the firepick. Batman ducked under it, and in the man's follow through, Batman punched him in the kidney. The man quickly grabbed his side as he fell, and Bruce leaped off the ground. In his jump, he came crashing down and punched one of the men in the collar bone as they had no time to react. The man's collarbone shattered, and all he did was fall to the ground, screaming in agony.

Four men plus the Joker remained.

The other men swang at Batman, and he evaded both swings. These men were better suited to this, and didn't leave themselves open in their follow through, neither of them. They used that momentum to swing again at Batman. As they swung at him, Joker threw his knife at Batman, hitting him firmly in his left shoulder. Batman exclaimed in pain, and the fourth man successfully landed a blow to Batman's rib. The Kevlar in the suit cushioned the blow, but it still left a deep bruise as Batman grimaced following the blows in succession of one another.

He leaped back away from the men, but they were relentless. They bull rushed him in an attempt to beat him, and Batman had only seconds to react. He jumped onto the table, and soared into the air, almost hitting the ceiling, and almost like an acrobat, flipped over the four men. Landing on the ground, instantaneously Batman punched the Joker in the face. It was an intense left hook, and immediately after, Batman uppercutted the Joker in the stomach with his right hand, and right after that, he elbowed him on the side of his face, knocking him to the ground.

"HAHAHA! NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL A PUNCH!" The Joker spat blood out on the ground as he landed, and the other men advanced to protect their boss. The men approached Batman in a triangle like formation, one to both of his sides and one directly in front of him. They all prepared to swing, but Batman inhaled as he prepared to do what he was about to do. It was going to hurt, but he was prepared to do so. He had to be quick, agile, precise, but if he was all of those things, it would work perfectly. Awaiting the men to swing at him, he extended his arms out, catching both of the bats to the men at his sides, and absorbed the blow from the man directly in front of him. He took it with grace, and in that man's follow through, Batman kneed him in the balls, and in one swift like motion, he extended his leg out, kicking him in the stomach across the room while he still held the bats of the men at his sides. The men resisted, but no man Bruce had ever met had beaten him physically after his training. Like a spartan or an agent of war, Batman overpowered those beneath him as he yanked both of the weapons out of the men's hands. He threw one of them behind him, and used the other as a weapon. The bat hit the thug to his left in the ribs, breaking two of them as he screamed out in disbelief from the sheer force that Batman swung the bat at. The thug to his other side swung, but this time Batman used the bat in defense, pinning the man's arm using the bat as the pin. With his arm stuck, the man knew what was most likely about to happen. Batman flung the man to the ground, and with the thug's arm still pinned to the ground, Batman snapped the man's arm with ease as he screamed out in sheer pain.

With the men pinned down, Batman settled himself down. He took two or three deep breaths as he turned around and saw the Joker beginning to stand up from the ground. Batman took a deep breath and pulled the knife out of his shoulder. The knife fell onto the ground completely bloody, ruining the absurdly expensive rug on the ground. As the knife hit the ground, Joker's laugh picked up in volume. Batman held his shoulder as it began to bleed more and more with the knife now out. Simply watching in disbelief at what was in front of him, he could hardly look at the Joker. It took everything in him to not just break down at the sight of him. Finally, the Joker spoke.

"You said earlier that you didn't think this was me… What else did you expect to see, Batman? Hahaha, did you expect someone else? Trust me when I tell you Batman, what you see is what you get. It's not just some bad joke you can laugh off when no one laughs, y'see, I'm right here and I'm smiling ear to ear, hehe. It doesn't matter what you say or do, whoever you think you saw that night, died in that river like he was supposed to." Batman looked down on the ground. Those words hurt to hear, but finally he felt calm enough to respond. Through his fear, he felt the need to relinquish it in any way to maintain it, to play it down.

"What about Elaine… What about Anna… What would they think if they looked at you now?" Names such as those that carried such weight resonated with the Joker heavily. His mind shook, and the man that used to be Clint Daymond paused for a second. For the briefest of moments, he trembled, but as quickly as his mind shook, he regained his character.

"Bringing up the names linked to a dead man means nothing to me. Like a jack-in-the-box, I was wound up for so long until I shot out, but when I shot out, my spring broke and I couldn't go back in. Everything in that box was gone, and I was free from it… Hehehehe, yet you barged in here, Batman, with your fancy gadgets and your brooding muscles hoping to change me back to a dead man. The only way I'll ever go back to that man is in death, and I assure you, that's the only way, Rats-For-Brains. Haha!"

Batman made a fist as he heard what he heard. No longer could he hide from the truth that he tried to ignore. The man in front of him was no longer Clint Daymond… No, he was exactly what was in front of him. The Joker, the new head of the Maroni crime family. Through his anger and through his self hatred, Batman yearned to amend his failure somehow, someway. That way seemed to be apprehending the Joker and turning him in to face his crimes. There was no saving him, and that killed Bruce internally. He couldn't think about that now. Bruce had to focus on what his new goal was: defeating the Joker.

"I see…" Batman paused as he raised his fists into the air. "Then I'm taking you in so you can face justice for all your crimes." Batman knew that physically, the Joker would be no match for him. That was not what the problem with the situation was whatsoever for this was a battle of the mind. The Joker was Batman's failure incarnate, and to face it in a way was to face himself. To battle his own thoughts and tribulations, facing a man he could easily beat in combat.

However, as soon as he began to make his advance to the Joker, sirens began to blare as the GCPD approached the building. Batman stopped in his place and listened to everything. He heard the sounds of helicopters approaching, and right when he heard it, the spotlight shined into the room.

Joker turned around and looked out the window, and he smiled.

"Wow! A spotlight just for me! Oh man, I didn't even go through hair and make up, I look like a mess! The director is gonna be awfully upset with me if he sees me looking like this. No bother, this is an action sequence and I'm a method actor. I can pull anything off!"

As soon as Joker finished his remark, a speaker blared from the helicopter.

"THIS IS THE GCPD, REMAIN IN THE BUILDING AND SURRENDER. YOU'RE UNDER ARREST." Batman was in a stance prepared to fight, but he relaxed a bit. The cape that was behind him covered his entire body, and all that could be seen was his jaw and the white eyes floating there on the cowl. He watched as the Joker looked out of the window, but he truly became alarmed when he saw what he was reaching for.

There next to the window was an RPG. Batman's eyes widened as Joker gripped it, lifting it and putting it on his shoulders. His heart began to race, and as Joker shoved the RPG to break the glass in front of him, Batman ran towards him.

"WAIT, NO!" Batman lunged for Joker, but he was too late.

Pulling the trigger, the Joker remarked with utter passion, "Let's get this party started, Batman!" The rocket shot out with sheer ferocity towards the helicopter. It hit the hull of the copter, and it exploded, blowing it to smithereens. The men operating it died immediately, and the helicopter, in a fiery blaze, spun out of control. Noticing the GCPD helicopter was falling towards the same floor they were on, the Joker simply increased in his laughter.

"Hahahahaha! It was nice knowing ya, Batman!" Batman had to think quickly. He watched as the helicopter approached the penthouse suite of the building, and he knew he couldn't run away. There was only one option: jump.

Leaning forward as he ran, he tackled the Joker through the window as the two fell off the building. Seconds after they fell, the helicopter crashed and imploded the top floor of the Maroni penthouse. The building was thirty stories, and the two had already fallen five by the time the helicopter collided into the building. The Joker was laughing as he fell, spreading his arms like an angel gliding down to earth. Batman reached for him, grabbing him by the collar. He twisted as they fell in the air, and shot his grapnel towards the top of the building. It latched on, and the two men swung into the seventeenth floor of the building, crashing into a random person's apartment. The Joker landed on the bed of the room, but Batman was flung against the wall opposite of the window, being knocked out instantly.

Batman fell to the ground, motionless. The Joker looked at the woman he landed on, and she screamed at the top of her lungs. He grabbed her by the mouth, and smiled alarmingly. The Joker pushed her head into the pillow as he covered her mouth, and he reached for the nail file on the nightstand next to the woman's bed. It wasn't one of those plastic, sandpaper like nail files, it was a metal nail file with a point. He grabbed it and put it a millimeter away from the woman's eyeball, and she stared at it. All she could see was the pale faced man with ruby red lips and green hair staring into her eyes. She saw his yellow teeth shining because of the sirens outside. The man shined blue and red, but his face was unavoidable. She was frozen with fear as she watched this man threaten her life. Finally he spoke in a whisper like tone, creeping closer to the woman's face.

"You might wanna watch out, tuts. I heard you're behind on your bills and the cops in this city are pretty strict in their enforcement of it… But the cops in this city, y'know, they're all the same. You respect what's going on, yadda yadda, they'll leave you alone. But you, you didn't respect what was going on. Was it worth it to keep the oven on all night? Even if it was a mistake, was it really worth not double checking from time to time? What about the kids and their night lights huh? That's so much electricity! No wonder the cops showed up tonight, I was starting to think it was about me!" The woman began to cry and the Joker felt the tears run down his hand. He nodded his head, "oh, no, no, no! Don't cry, my love! There's no reason to cry, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise, you won't even feel a thing." The Joker put the nail file into the woman's eye and stabbed her repeatedly. She screamed for a brief second, but after the second stab to the brain she stopped. The Joker stabbed her in the head and throat and blood gushed up to his leathery, white dwarf like skin.

He giggled as he got off the woman, looking down at Batman, still unconscious. He shook his head as kneeled down, grabbing Batman and pushed him up against the wall. Joker looked at Batman in the eyes, and reached for his cowl. He gripped it, but he stopped himself.

Laughing as he paused, he looked at him in the whites of his eyes and remarked, "No, I don't think I will… I think it'd be a lot more interesting if you were actually conscious. So, I'll wait, Batman… I'll wait to do this so I can look at the failure in your eyes… I'll wait to see the only other person who could possibly share my dread." Joker shoved Batman back down, and left the woman's room. Walking to the door, he looked back and saw two children staring at him from the hallway, hugging one another. The Joker smiled as he approached the kids, stating, "Don't worry, kiddos… Mommy is alright. Come with me… I'll take you to see her."

XII

Batman awoke roughly two minutes after the Joker left the room. His vision was blurred, and he couldn't focus on anything. He tried to stand, but stumbled. Confusion plagued his mind as he was heavily concussed. If it wasn't for the Kevlar plating in the cowl, he most definitely would have fractured his skull. Upon hitting the wall, Bruce hit his forehead on the hard wood along the edge of the wall making his luck worse for wear.

He didn't really know where he was in the slightest. Batman looked around, analyzing his surroundings. Where am I, he thought. Feeling his head, he noticed he was wearing a mask. Confused, he took it off and stared at it. What he saw was the cowl of the Batman, and the white eyes staring back at him. Most people associate the abyss with pitch darkness. Darkness so jet black you could forget even the location of your own body, but to Batman, the dark had been home for so long. In his confusion, he thought back to his time learning the minds of criminals in Northern Ireland. He had infiltrated the Irish Mob to observe and psychoanalyze the criminals he sought to bring down. One day, he was suspected of being a rat. Bruce was tortured in a dark room. He saw nothing, and the men who tortured him were wearing night vision goggles. Bruce was like that for five days, but he never squealed. Those five days were like no other, but it's where he realized that the Batman had to be a denizen of the night. He had to not only adopt the night, but he had to be a champion of it. If Bruce lasted five days in the pitch black nothingness of the abyss, and came out fine, maybe that wasn't the abyss at all.

Staring into the white eyes of the cowl, he finally realized what the abyss was: blinding light. It's the same as the darkness: you're blind, but in this case it hurts. The abyss is pain - crippling pain that causes you harm. If darkness is an abyss, yet you feel nothing but the cold, damp black that it entails, you're just numb and floating in place. If you stare into the brightest light, and you become blinded, it hurts because of what the light entails. The light is freedom. Staring into the white eyes of the cowl, he saw the skin of the Joker. They were like complete opposites. Batman donned an all black garb to adopt the darkness, yet the Joker was shiny, pale white, completely free as he was in the abyss and Batman was not. At least not yet as he stared into it for a brief moment. Batman felt the cold, damp and jet black abyss that we often associated it with, but his own personal abyss was the freedom that the Joker now had. The freedom of not having any rational thought; the freedom of incoherency - the freedom of insanity. That was the abyss Batman saw as he looked into the cowl he usually wore on his head. He swore to never fall into that abyss, and he made a fist as he regained a slight bit of his awareness.

Blood cascaded Bruce's face. Like a river delta, it spread out across his face and streamed down it like it was going back home to the ocean. Bruce wiped his face of the blood, and Batman put the cowl back onto his head, adjusting it to fit perfectly. He stood up slowly, and he then saw the horrors on the bed. Looking down, he saw the defiled corpses of the mother the Joker killed and her two children dead on the bed. Instinct told him to look away, but he couldn't. He remained staring at the dead mother and the dead children on the bed, and he did so for about ten seconds.

"I'm sorry…" remarked Batman in the most crippling, subdued tone. "I will bring him to justice… I have to bring him to justice. Not just for me, but for you… and for Gotham… and for Anna." Batman walked out of the room, checking his corners. His hearing and vision were still coming back to him, but he could hear the sirens of the GCPD and the fire trucks making their way to the building. He could hear the fire crackling even thirteen stories below where the penthouse was, and he simply shook his head due to the Joker's foolishness. Then he remembered that he saved him, yet he wasn't in the room. Evidently he murdered the woman and her children, but he was not in the room. Acting quickly, Batman turned on the scanner in his cowl and looked for foot prints, blood, anything to track where the Joker may have gone. Scanning the floor, he saw footprints that were identical to the dress shoes the Joker wore.

There, thought Batman as he followed the footsteps of Joker. Every couple of steps there were droplets of blood from the nosebleed that he had gotten from Batman's left hook minutes prior, but it was a negligible amount. The sight of blood sparked something in Bruce, and he stopped for a second. Though he was moderately aware, he was still concussed. Staring into the blood on the ground, looking at it intently, he was reminded of the blood that was shed from his parents.

At the sight of it, he was eight years old again and he and his parents were leaving the Monarch Theatre. They had just gotten done watching the Mask of Zorro, Bruce's third time watching the movie. He adored the film and the sheer bravery the man had to fight for justice. As a child as they walked away from the theatre down the infamous Crime Alley, Bruce imitated Zorro's catchphrases as his father laughed.

"That's very good, Bruce!" Thomas Wayne laughed as they advanced down the alley. Martha Wayne remained glued to Thomas as she held Bruce close to her. Crime Alley was infamous for robberies, drug deals, any crime of the sort. The reason Thomas Wayne was so fixated on walking through it was that it was a "short cut". Hearing that, it sounds like something someone who is completely ignorant of any politics or social standing would say, but in Thomas Wayne's case, it was quite the opposite. He always assumed the good in people, Thomas did, and he wholeheartedly believed that walking through this alley would go off without a hitch. Even with all the crimes and horrific acts that objectively occurred in that alley, Thomas believed that his family would be fine.

As the man with a gun hidden in his sleeve advanced towards them, Thomas and the man locked eyes. Without even a reaction, the man pointed the gun at the family. Thomas pushed Martha and Bruce behind him as he acted like a shield just in case the man was going to shoot.

"Wallets, cash, jewelry, all of it. Right now!" The man cocked back his Taurus 856 .38 Special Snub Nose Revolver, and pointed it at Thomas Wayne.

"No problem," voiced Thomas, reaching into his suit pocket and handing him the wallet. The robber anxiously reached for it, grabbing it and putting it in his front coat pocket. Thomas also gave him his watch and his suit cufflinks, and the robber took those too. He pointed the gun back towards Martha, and she hid behind Thomas.

"Don't think I didn't see those shiny pearls and diamond earrings, lady, hand 'em over!" The man yelled and pointed the gun with fury towards the family. Those pearls were brand new, given to her by her husband, Thomas, that same day for the occasion. Bruce, as an eight year old boy, watched in awe as he saw the beauty his mother radiated with those pearls on. Though Bruce was afraid, he did not know the severity of the situation. He did not understand the lengths someone would go to for a stable hand because he had always been stable. Bruce had never faced worse hardship than only being able to find one sock when he was trying to get ready, or simply breaking a bone. He was the son of the richest man in Gotham City, and as such, it blinded him to the world. Though he was only eight years old, he was headstrong for an eight year old, living his life in many personal fables and ideas. His family was untouchable in his world, his life, but no one is untouchable in the real world. Sometimes all it takes is a desperate man with a gun in his hands to change your perspective of life.

Upon hearing the pearls in mention, Bruce yelled at the robber.

"No! You can't take those pearls!" Bruce shook off his mother as he tried to advance the robber, and the robber immediately pointed the gun at Bruce. Thomas' eyes widened, and he jumped in front of his son. The robber shot the gun and the bullet went through the throat of Thomas Wayne. Martha yelled at the top of her lungs.

"THOMAS!" Thomas Wayne began to bleed out as he fell on Bruce, and the robber advanced towards Martha. He grabbed the pearls and she tried to fight him off. The robber shot Martha through the heart, killing her in seconds. Grabbing the pearls, the robber ran away in his own fear.

Thomas Wayne was losing blood at an alarming rate. He was on top of his son Bruce Wayne completely limp as he became more weak and more pale. Through sheer disbelief, he looked his son in the eyes. Blood tunneled out of his mouth, and he was crying looking at his son for the final time. The words he uttered were almost incoherent, but Bruce heard them well.

"Bruce… Don't ever… forget… the good in... people…" Thomas Wayne's light blue eyes went dull as he died staring at his son. Bruce Wayne stared at his father as his life left his body. In complete disbelief, Bruce grabbed his dad by the lapel of his suit.

"Daddy?.. Dad?!" He shook his father, but his father heard, felt and reacted to none of it. Bruce began to panic, and he made his way towards his mother. He did the same to her, but the same thing happened. Bruce sat parallel to both of his now dead parents, killed due to the greed, desperation and plague of Gotham City. There, on that fateful day in Gotham City, a boy was turned into a man far too soon. His innocence ripped from him without his say, as he tried to make sense of the world he was now in. His parents were his everything, yet he was staring at their corpses. What was he without his parents? What was Bruce Wayne without his parents? Most would say he would be fine because of his trust fund, and though it was unfortunate, the Wayne's were fools for walking in that alley. Though they had a point, Bruce thought something different on that day. Bruce looked down towards the ground, thinking back as to how he sparked the incident by acting out against the robber. His eyes shook as they began to cry, and he slammed his fists against the ground. He yelled at the top of his lungs, and cried because of his own foolishness. It was like a switch had been flipped in his mind upon this moment. Before, he was a happy kid with no problems that could even be thought about. Yet now, covered in his parents blood that he felt responsible for, he could only wallow in his own self pity, regret and shame.

Batman, in his concussed state, stared at the situation that replayed in his mind every day. He saw this every day he woke up, every dream he had, every time he looked in the mirror. All he could see was the death of his parents over and over, and it fueled him. It fueled his very being. He looked over and he saw the first person he saw after the situation occurred. It was an off duty cop that had heard the gunfire, and he made his way towards Bruce Wayne. Batman looked in fear and confusion as he walked past the child Bruce Wayne and made his way towards him.

It was Jim Gordon.

"Hey, are you alright, Batman? You're lucky I'm the one who found you, we got this whole place surrounded. I'm supposed to arrest you on sight." Batman shook his head as he tried to compose himself. He observed Jim and as he did so, his psyche was reforming. Batman stood up more straight, and he put his hand on the shoulder of Jim Gordon. Gordon looked at his shoulder and watched as Batman continued down the hallway.

"Hey, wait! If the cops see you, they're gonna arrest you!"

Answering immediately, Batman remarked, "They won't… Do you know where Joker went, do you have any leads?"

Jim shook his head. "No, no we don't, it's like he disappeared. I have no clue where he could've gone."

Batman sighed and turned towards Gordon. "Then I need to get out of here and find him."

"This place is more secure than some prison's, how the hell are you gonna do that?" Batman thought to himself. He turned on the scanner and inspected the entire building. Every floor was littered with cops, the entire block was as well. Helicopters were flying around the building, looking for both him and the Joker. He looked down all the way to the basement of the penthouse where the parking garage was. Seeing a crack in their defense, he saw a manhole cover that was relatively unguarded. Batman nodded his head as he made his way there.

"I'll find a way…" Batman paused for a brief second, looking back at Gordon. He thought about the exchange they had at the boiler room of the GCPD. The feeling of ease and comfort he had felt around him he had felt once again. "You said your name was Gordon right?.. When we talked at GCPD."

Gordon shook his head as he responded, saying, "Yeah, Gordon. Jim Gordon."

"Why didn't you arrest me? What stopped you? That's twice now you've gotten the drop on me and you didn't act. You say you're a standup cop, yet I'm all over the news beating criminals, taking the law into my own hands… What's stopping you?"

Gordon swallowed as he shook his head. Oddly enough, he laughed at the remark. Batman's eyes widened at the sight, and Gordon responded with very little thought.

"I don't think you're bad at all. Those crooked cops you talked about, they do because you challenge the system. You're fighting the bad people, and they're part of it. They don't care about the Joker and what he did to Maroni and his kids. Nah, of course not cause their wallets are still being filled." He walked towards Batman, speaking as he did so. "I think you're the only ally I could have in this entire town, I mean, the guys sent me out and made me look at this whole floor alone. They're begging for me to get outta the game…" He paused once again as he stopped, looking at Batman in the white orbs that were the eyes of his cowl. "I dunno… I think you and I have the same goal, Batman, I really do."

Batman leaned his head back in interest, as he questioned him.

"And what's that?"

Gordon looked at Batman and smiled, saying, "We both want to rid Gotham of the filth that's polluting it, but the only difference is we're going about it in different ways. That doesn't mean we have to be enemies, no, not at all. That just means we're different. If we work together, I think we could get a lot done."

Batman turned as he smiled under his guise of stoneness. He shook his head and the feeling that he felt around Gordon calmed him.

"That makes us allies, then. I'll see what I can do to get out of here and find the Joker. If you can help in any way so I don't get seen, I'd greatly appreciate that." Batman made his way down the hallway, turning and running down the hallway towards the basement, the only feasible route of escape.

Gordon smiled at the remark Batman had given him. He nodded, saying, "I guess that's his way of saying we're friends. I'll take it."

Batman made his way down the hallway, and in the blink of an eye, it was like he disappeared into the shadows of the night. It was a night with a new moon, so the only thing illuminating the inside of the building were the lights of the buildings of Gotham and the fiery, iridescent penthouse at the top of the building. His concussion was subsiding, but he was still bleeding from his head. He fought through the deliriousness with each step, as his will, valor and pride forced him to do so. It would have been so easy to just stop and stay there, but he couldn't do it. Nothing about his life had been easy, and starting now would have been foolish.

As Gordon walked around the corner, he saw nothing in the corridor to remind him of Batman. He looked around as he searched for him, but nothing revealed itself. Unholstering his gun, Gordon made his way down the hallway. The hallway itself was silent, but the noise of everywhere else made its way to that point. The only two people there were Batman and Gordon, but outside the building consisted of half of the entire GCPD trying to apprehend Joker and Batman at the same time, officers making their way into the building, helicopters circling, shootouts with the police and the Maroni family, and the crackling firecracker-esque explosions at the roof of the building.

Gordon made his way to the end of the hallway, but stopped as he saw a phone get set off as if it had received a text. He pointed his gun at it in his alarmed state, but he calmed himself almost immediately. Gordon walked towards the phone, picking it up. The text read Stay connected through this, and Gordon nodded his head. Attached to the back of the phone was a Bluetooth ear phone, and Gordon put the device in his right ear. As soon as he did so, Batman spoke to him.

"I've already made it down to the fifteenth story. I'm making my way to the parking garage beneath the building to try and escape through the sewers. What should be my best route?" Batman was hiding behind a corner as three SWAT officers made their way past him. Batman watched as the officers continued their path, and followed them to the air vent that led to the floor below.

"The sewers aren't being actively searched for right now, but with the Joker gone, they might start looking there. Sneaking past the guards for you probably won't be that much of an issue, but when you reach the lobby, I have no clue how you're gonna be able to get lower than that without being seen. That place is locked down tight." Batman nodded as he continued down the air vent, now at the fourteenth floor. He rinsed and repeated the process as he snuck past the GCPD officers and SWAT teams, eventually making his way all the way down to the first floor, the lobby.

Batman was at the vent, and he turned on his scanner, analyzing the situation.

Gordon wasn't kidding, this place is locked down. I can't use the Batmobile to cause a distraction, there's too many civilians and police officers around… What can I do? Use the smoke pellets and try and sneak past them? As this thought crossed Batman's mind, he saw the K9s across the room. Shaking his head at the sight of them, Batman shook his head. No, not with the dogs. Dammit… I think I'm trapped… Only one option. Batman touched the ear of his cowl, phoning Gordon.

"Gordon…" Batman paused as he was about to do something he hated in asking someone for help. Gordon was on the stairs going down towards the lobby to try and see if he could help already. Stopping as he heard Batman, he answered immediately.

"Yeah, what do you need?"

"I think I'm stuck here in the lobby vent… I don't know how to continue. They have dogs so I can't smoke them out, I can't use my car to create a distraction because of how many people there are inside, and I can't just take them all on, it'd be suicide, they all have guns and automatic weapons. Can something be done on your end?" Gordon thought to himself as he tried to construct a plan as quickly as possible. He put his finger to his top lip as he thought. He was already down to the twelfth story, and he exited the stairs, looking at his coworkers and comrades surveying every room. They were forcing people out of their rooms as they searched for Batman and Joker.

The guns and the dogs are his biggest problems… I don't know how I can get rid of the dogs, but I can get them to not use their guns. I've heard he can take an army with just his fists, and just looking at him, I think he can. If they can't shoot at him, all he'll have to worry about are the dogs. Gordon shook his head, and opened the door to the twelfth story. He waved at the people who lived on that floor.

"Everyone, everyone, please follow me, I'll escort you out of the building." The people who were there answered him with great hostility.

"Hey, man, we ain't going anywhere, we live here! You guys can't just barge in here at two in the fuckin' morning, go through all our stuff and kick us out! We got work in a few hours, goddamn!" Gordon shook his head, and reached for his badge on his chest.

"I understand, I understand, but I'm just following orders, guys. Trust me, this is the last thing I wanna do. Now, if you guys will please just follow me, I'm sure this will be over with in an hour or so." The people who lived there shook their heads but still listened. They followed Gordon all the way down to the lobby of the building, and as he entered, Batman saw him. Immediately, he knew Gordon's plan.

Genius… Using the civilians so they can't fire their guns. All I have to worry about now are the dogs and I can handle everything else. I counted fifteen officers, but with the smoke, if I get past the dogs, I won't have to deal with any of them. This will work.

As the civilians entered the lobby, Batman reached into his belt, grabbing about three smoke pellets. He also grabbed the laser to cut the vent, and as he did, he grabbed it, holding in place waiting for his opportunity to strike.

In the lobby was Police Commissioner Gilian Loeb. He was an African American man aged in his early forties, with salt and pepper hair. He was quite tall, sitting at a nice height of six foot four, and he was standing there with his bullet proof vest and his AR-15.

Batman loathed Commissioner Loeb. He knew he was in deep with the Falcone crime family, and he knew that Falcone could have been behind bars if Loeb wasn't so corrupt and aided the tainted system of Gotham. Batman's heart rate escalated at the sight of Loeb. Though the civilians were there, he wanted to beat the hell out of Loeb with no questions asked. Shakingly, Batman stared at his fists to see they were nicely made with the thirst for blood.

I could pound his face in. A punch to the face will break his nose; three more will concuss him. If I keep going maybe he won't even remember me. I could get away with it easily… Batman's thoughts were sporadic for just a fraction of a second, but he composed himself. He thought back to the sight of looking at the white eyes of the cowl and the abyss he saw. Nodding his head no, he collected himself. I will never be like him.

With the civilians in the room, Batman knew the guns weren't a problem anymore. He now looked at the two German Shepherds in the room on their leashes, brainstorming a way to stop them. I can go about this in a few ways… I can take the sticky gel and shut their mouths so they can't bite me… That could suffocate them though. Batman put his hand to his chin, thinking more on how to deal with them. I could shoot them in their front paws, and throw batarangs to their back paws, incapacitating them. They may never walk again, but… I don't know. I can't think of a way to do it without really hurting them.

Batman sighed as he accepted the second option. He didn't want to permanently hurt the dogs cause they were just doing their jobs. They weren't corrupt, they were being used by the corrupt. Though Batman had not a single care or worry in the world for the criminals he injured, he had a deep and heavy heart for people or things that had nothing to do with it. In this case, animals that had no say in the matter. Looking at the dogs, he thought back to his childhood and the two dogs he had as a kid. Whiskey and Charlie: two Australian Shepherds that Bruce absolutely adored. He slept with both of them in his king bed, and they were his best friends. After his parents died, he told Alfred to get rid of them because they made him too sad. He always loved animals and everything they stood for. They were loyal, compassionate, sweet, fun; everything that Bruce aspired to be before the deaths of his parents. After their deaths however, he truly questioned what real animals were.

Letting go of the vent, Batman hurled the three smoke pellets he held in his hand and they exploded in the middle of the room. Hastily, he exited the vent and shot the two dogs with the gel puddy in their front paws. He quickly holstered the gun, reaching for two batarangs. He threw the batarangs, slitting the tendons on the back of the dogs hind legs, and winced as the animals whelped in pain.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Loeb said as he coughed from the smoke. "DON'T SHOOT, THERE'S CIVILIANS!" Batman smiled under the guise of the smoke as he advanced towards the air vent that led to the parking garage. He snuck past the guards, and all the guards saw was the silhouette of a creature making its way through the hazy horizon. Their vision was negligible, but the figure of the Batman was all too apparent. "IT'S HIM! HE'S HERE!" Shouted Loeb, and as he shouted, Batman punched Loeb right across the nose, knocking him out instantly as his septum deviated from the punch. Loeb fell back and onto the ground, and Batman immediately cut the vent, attached the magnets, and slid down it as he put the vent back in place to make it appear he was never really there.

Batman made his way to the parking garage, and there was a SWAT team searching the vehicles. Hiding in the vent, he tried to cut the vent, stopping as he heard the SWAT team begin to speak.

"Hey, they just said the Joker got away, why're we still here?" The SWAT officer to the left of the man that spoke responded to him nonchalantly.

"Batman's still here they say, so we're looking for him, too." The SWAT officer laughed at the remark, turning towards the man who mentioned the Batman.

"Batman? The Batman? You mean the guy who apparently snuck into GCPD in the middle of the night, interrogated the Mad Hatter, and left without being seen? That guy? You think that guy actually exists? Haha, man I'd love to live in your mind for a bit."

"It's true! I don't care what you say or have heard, but Mikey is in the hospital with a concussion and herniated disk cause of the Batman. He was one of the SWAT officers guarding Tetch. One second he's just standing around, then the next the room is full of smoke and he's getting his teeth kicked in. Y'know some little girl down at Pinkney said she's seen him too, that he actually talked to her! Bullock too! There's too much evidence to keep denying it, man, the Batman is real!"

The SWAT officer laughed even more, and turned towards the man defending the Batman's existence. He shook his head, still incredibly amused at the thought.

"Just listen to yourself, Carter," the officer said as he holstered his weapon and pointed to each one of his fingers as he made point after point. "So far the only witnesses are: one, a little girl who had been kidnapped; two, a deranged nutjob; three, an alcoholic cop who barely does any work to begin with; and four, maybe the most compelling argument, one of your friends who got his shit kicked in. You really wanna believe those guys, huh, Carter? Do ya?"

The SWAT officer ducked his head over his own insecure argument, turning his back to the rude, insufferable other officer.

"Screw off, Tex," Officer Tex laughed as he walked away. Batman eavesdropped the entire situation and wondered to himself: This isn't a popularity contest, but why do I have the urge to blow my cover and make my existence irrefutable?.. Is that who I am? Is that why I did this? Popularity? No… I did this to become a myth so criminals would second guess going out at night. I did this to become a reason cops would stop their corruption. Yet… Why do I have this urge to show a nonbeliever who the Batman is? Why?... Batman stopped himself from going down a path of thought that would leave him in a trance. Hiding behind the vehicles of the parking garage, he continued his way towards the manhole cover. As he got within a leap of it, he stopped as he heard more officers make their way to his location. He dropped back into the shadows of the night, hiding in the cold, black darkness as he listened to the officers.

"Yo, everyone, Loeb says to check the sewers! That's how they're thinking the Joker escaped. He wants us to flush it out." Batman's heart sank as the officers grabbed the manhole cover and made their way down the ladder. Stuck and out of ideas, Batman thought to himself once again.

I'm stuck, yet again… I can't depend on Gordon anymore. I didn't want to do this, but it looks like I really have no choice. From the buttons at the tip of his gloves, Batman recalled the Batmobile. In the alley about a half mile away, it started, and its engines revved up to its maximum, waking up everyone within its radius. It accelerated out of the alleyway, self driving itself to the signal of Batman. As it made its way towards the GCPD officers' blockade, the officers there looked at it in terror. All they saw was this all black vehicle the size of a tank make its way towards them at over 90 miles per hour. The officers hopped out of the way as the Batmobile broke the blockade with ease, turning closer towards Batman. The parking garage was closed with a metal gate, locking whoever was inside in, and keeping outsiders out. As it approached the gate, the Batmobile engaged in its anti-obstacle weapons, and a rocket launcher on the back of the vehicle protruded out of the back, shooting the metal gate, breaking it with ease as the Batmobile zoomed into the parking garage. The explosion shook the entire building, and the officers in the parking garage exclaimed in great confusion and fear. They looked at the tank making its way into the building as it seemingly glided across the ground towards Batman. The officers shot at the vehicle, but the vehicle treated it as if the .338, .223 and 9 millimeter rounds hitting the vehicle were bugs against a windshield. The Batmobile didn't even flinch as it made its way down to the bottom most part of the garage. It drifted to shield Batman from the returning fire of the GCPD SWAT officers, and he made his way towards the Batmobile. He slid under it to avoid being detected, and the bottom part of the vehicle slid open as he made his way into it, crawling into the driver's seat.

"Computer," Batman said as he strapped himself in. "Construct the fastest way to home." Batman hit the buttons on the instrument panel of the Batmobile, and engaged the afterburner. The tires of the Batmobile screeched, and as soon as it appeared, the Batmobile drove away out of the parking garage.

In awe, Officer Carter walked to Officer Tex in disbelief. He tapped him on the shoulder, asking him in a monotonous voice, "Believe 'em now?" Officer Tex shrugged off his companion and ran up the ramp to the lobby of the building.

The Batmobile exited the parking garage, and as it did so, it was immediately followed by an enormous amount of GCPD vehicles. APCs, SWAT vehicles, regular police cars, helicopters, everything of the sort followed this unknown behemoth owning the road. The Batmobile was pushing 130 miles per hour, and it turned with ease down the street as it followed the route the Batcomputer constructed to get back to Wayne Manor. The GCPD vehicles were in disbelief at the sheer speed, mobility and power the vehicle exuded, and they were lugging behind it. Already Batman had put distance between them, and the only thing keeping the Batmobile in sight was the GCPD helicopters who had their spotlight on him.

I have to get these lights off me. The EMP from the Batmobile itself won't reach past two hundred feet, and those helicopters are well past that off the ground… Hmm… I think I might have an idea. Batman drifted, and as he did so, he entered another parking garage that towered over twenty stories. The part of town they were in was the financial district, so a ridiculous amount of people needed to be there for both work, to live, and just to be in a nicer part of town. These parking garages of this magnitude were found every couple of blocks in downtown Gotham, at least the more well kept up with parts of Gotham.

The Batmobile made its way towards the top of the garage, and the helicopters ascended. As the Batmobile arrived at the second to last floor, almost at the roof, Batman engaged in the afterburner of the vehicle, sending the vehicle to over 175 miles per hour as it ascended towards the roof. The computer mapped out the angle Batman needed to do what he wanted to do, and he adjusted accordingly. As he hit everything with perfection, as the Batmobile hit the ramp, flying itself off the roof, Batman ejected himself from the vehicle, seemingly flying out of it. He extended his cape as he split the gap of the three helicopters. He ascended and flew past the rotors of the helicopters, and he extended his cape as he seemingly floated upwards for a few seconds with the help of his cape. He grabbed the EMP grenades from his utility belt, throwing them down towards the helicopters.

The officers and gunmen that were in the helicopters watched in awe as the Batman did what he did. Losing his momentum, Batman began his descent downwards, dive bombing down, threading the gap of the three helicopters once again. As soon as he passed the helicopters, the grenades he attached to them exploded, making their spotlights useless. Batman made his way down, and as the grenades exploded, the Batmobile landed on the ground, slowing down as it still continued moving forward on the street. As he fell down towards the ground, Batman extended his cape, gliding from the Gotham night's wind like a kite on a brisk autumn day. He had great speed and tenacity as he skated across the skies of Gotham. The people of the helicopter watched as the fabled Bat-Man appearingly flew across the night's sky without the aid of anything. Their jaws hit the floor as they gazed at him in disbelief. Batman angled downwards, and the computer in his cowl put his destination perfectly lined up with the Batmobile and where it was heading. As he got close, Batman grappled the roof of the Batmobile, zooming across the night as his cape shook with ferocity yet elegance. Disengaging the grappling hook, Batman landed in the seat of the vehicle, engaging the gas and made his way back home towards Wayne Manor, evading the GCPD in their entirety.

XIII

The Batmobile crashed through the waterfall that the Batcave hid behind. It drifted along the paved road, and parked in the spot it always parked at. Alfred Pennyworth made his way towards the Batmobile with breakfast for the man he viewed as his son. Alfred never looked at Bruce with contempt. Regret and guilt, from time to time, yes, but never in contempt. He always wanted the best for Bruce Wayne, and if the Batman was what Bruce really felt he was destined to do, then he would be there. The thought of Bruce dying because of Batman lingered in his mind night in and night out. That thought of Bruce lying dead, alone in some alley way or crime scene, with his body left there to be defiled by the very criminals he swore to fight against kept Alfred awake for far too many hours than he had liked. Yet, he never spoke a word of it to Bruce. He kept to himself, like he always did, and did what his job required and asked of him: assist and serve Bruce Wayne. That's what he did, and that's what he was always going to do.

Alfred made his way towards the Batmobile, and the canopy opened. Batman begrudgingly made his way out of the car, collapsing as his feet hit the ground. He fell down body first towards the ground, causing Alfred to drop the plate of food and run towards Bruce.

"Master Bruce?!" Alfred exclaimed as he turned Bruce around and looked at him. "Master Bruce, are you alright?!"

Alfred grabbed the cowl of Batman and took it off Bruce's face, revealing the stream of blood still coming out of his forehead. Alfred inspected Bruce's body even more, seeing the knife wound that was in his left shoulder, the bullet graze on his right arm, and the bruises on his body. Bruce could barely stay conscious with the loss of blood and his severe concussion. Alfred began to try and lift Bruce off the ground, but immediately he grabbed at his old back and knew that that wouldn't work. Instead of lifting, Alfred grabbed Bruce by the shoulders in an attempt to drag him to the elevator that led to the manor. This was working only slightly better, and after about ten feet, Alfred had to set Bruce down to catch his breath. Looking around the Batcave, Alfred looked and saw a wheelchair and almost shrieked eureka as he walked over to get it. Grabbing the wheelchair, Alfred slid Bruce into it, and made his way up to the manor to tend to him.

Days passed. Three days to be precise, and Bruce finally awoke. His body was covered in bandages from head to toe. He attempted to sit up, but he immediately was shot down by the immense pain that went throughout his body. He winced as he laid back down, looking over and seeing the sun. The clock to his left read 4pm, and he closed his eyes as he laid back down. Footsteps approached and Bruce looked over and saw Alfred making his way over.

"Ah, Master Bruce, you're finally awake," said Alfred as he put the IV bag down. Upon seeing this, Bruce noticed the IV in his left arm and inspected it as he saw the IV bag above him to his left. He looked over to Alfred as he walked closer to the bed.

"How long was I out?" Bruce asked with sternness.

"About three days, Master Bruce, about three days." Bruce shook his head as he tried to get out of bed, but Alfred stopped him.

"Sir, please, you need your rest." Bruce shook him off, and stood up slowly. The top of his head above his eyes was covered in bandages, as well as his chest and body. Both of his arms were damaged, and he still had a headache from his concussion. He leaned against the bed frame that stood even taller than him and grabbed his head, sighing as he did so. His eyebrows shook and his body tried to give in, but he continued forward as he took a few steps that led to his regular walking motion. Alfred knew he couldn't stop him, so he just watched Bruce as he dragged his feet on the ground, walking away from the bed and out of the room.

With each step, Bruce felt the weight of his mind increase. Each step was like a thought pounding against his body with great intensity, and each thought only grew in size. He heard the laugh of the Joker, and saw the dead, malignant eyes of the woman and children he had failed to save as he was unconscious. Their eyes stared into his soul, and the weight of their gaze pinned him down. His body shook with great fear as he made his way down to the main staircase of Wayne Manor, walking down it to the foyer of the building. He remembered the story that Alfred said of his father failing to save a woman and collapsing in that same foyer into tears. Bruce wanted to do the same so badly, but he had another destination in mind.

Bruce opened the door of Wayne Manor and walked outside. The wind blew with great remorse and contempt as it waved across the sky. The sun was setting by that time, and the sky was breathtaking. It shined a beautiful cotton candy pink with a purplish hue as the accent of the bright yellow sun shined across the endless horizon. Bruce trawled his way towards his destination, the graves of his parents, across the street by the oak tree his great-grandfather planted. His parents were buried there, yet he rarely visited. He only visited in the times he felt strong because he knew if he went when he had felt weak he would simply collapse from the memories of guilt, remorse and desolation. Yet in this time when perhaps he felt at his most weak in his entire life, he made his way there anyway. Possibly, Bruce wanted to collapse into all of those feelings. Maybe he wanted to fall into the darkest pit of despair and never escape, letting his failure run away as he watched the dust trails from afar.

In his sights were the graves, but as he dragged his feet around, he tripped on the curb, falling into the grass. He collapsed, yet he tried immediately to get up. All he could see was the Joker. All he saw was that man he failed to save, as he fell into the chemicals and the look of his daughter as she watched the horror of her father's death. What else was there but failure? What else was Batman up until that point but failure? He failed to stop the Falcone deal on his first day, he failed to save the man, he failed to get information out of Jervis Tetch, he failed to stop the Joker three nights previously. Everything. Everything up until then had resulted in failure, and he couldn't take it anymore. He had no strength to rise up, so he just sat there as he stared at the purple, resting sky. With his arms spread wide, he felt a great wave of sorrow wash him back into the sea. The sea of woes and dejection that has no bottom; the ocean of break and malfunction that is a constant cycle without a beach. He felt like he was floating in the middle of these coinciding seas, and all the world and himself could do was watch. Bruce felt nothing. He felt like nothing. The lips of his face felt tingly in his numbness, and even down to the tips of his fingers he felt nothing. He couldn't stop shaking, and he brought his hands up to where he could see them.

With the sky in the background, Bruce watched his hands as they shook. They were like a metronome as he heard the giggles and chuckles of the Joker in his mind, and his hands shook to the rhythm of his glee. His chest was pounding, vibrating due to his weighted heart. Tears rolled down his face into the grass that was beneath him. For the first time in so long, he felt absolutely, irrefutably useless. The gadgets, the fame, the legend he had created in his mind meant nothing if he could not get the actual work done. If the Batman was a failure, he was no better than the GCPD that failed to represent what the good of Gotham was. Batman wasn't there to promote good, no, quite the opposite: Batman was there to promote fear. To illustrate what fear criminals could feel when the mantle of justice incarnate was there to defend the great city of Gotham. The city that Bruce's parents loved so much, yet the same city that killed them.

Bruce heard his father's last words to him. They echoed in his mind as they formed a coherent thought, as they said, Bruce… Don't ever forget the good in people. Bruce brought his quaking hands to his face to cover his shame from his parents that looked down upon him, and he balled into his palms.

"Father…" Bruce said like a lost child without a home or guide. "How can I see the good in people if I don't see the good in myself?.. I'm tarnishing the family name. I'm a disgrace to this world." Bruce stopped as he removed his tear soaked hands from his face, setting them to his side. He looked to the sky in a symbolic way as if he was looking into the eyes of his parents. Pronouncing to them, he said in a whisper-like tone, "I've amounted to nothing… All the training, all the gadgets and theatrics… I've done nothing with the Wayne name. All I feel is fear and failure… I feel like you guys look down upon me with such contempt and displeasure, and it's gutting." More tears streamed down Bruce's face and his face shriveled up as he couldn't compose himself anymore. "All I've done is fail coming back to Gotham… I can't deal with it anymore, it's exhausting. I'm exhausted, father. I can't shame you any longer, I can't… I can't do it… I won't do it." Bruce remained on the ground, and the sky was becoming darker by each passing second. Within minutes it would be night, the time that beckoned the Batman. Yet, Bruce closed his eyes to where it was night and dark all the time, and in a way, he did so so he couldn't say his next words while looking his father in the eye. "I renounce the Batman. If he's only meant to fail, then I can't do it anymore."

There is great strength in giving up. Sometimes when we are pushed to the brink and we can't see a future in which we are free from it, it's okay to give up. People give up their dreams all the time and people don't bat an eye. The weight of Bruce giving up on Batman was monumental for it was his dream as he stared into the dead eyes of his parents to rid Gotham of crime and corruption. Giving up on his dream was like giving up on the life force that drove him for twenty years. As he stood up from the grass, it was like he was an empty shell. There was nothing that was defining of a human being attached to the husk that walked back into Wayne Manor. Walking past Alfred without saying a word, he walked back into the manor. He walked to the couch, and planted himself there. Within minutes he was asleep, and he finally stopped shaking.

Three weeks passed and it was Bruce Wayne's 29th birthday. The stench from his room could be smelled from across the Manor in its entirety, but Bruce didn't care. He had a full face with a beard as he laid in bed. Laying on his side, Bruce felt abysmally worthless. His soul and life force was gone and he had no reason to live. All he did the past three weeks was lay in bed and eat, showering maybe five times in the entire time span. This was his longest rut in the road, not showering for an entire week. His bed had not been washed for the entire three week span, and there were stains that were riddled with an abhorrent stench. Alfred watched Bruce from across the room in sorrow as he laid motionless as his alarm went off. It was four in the afternoon and his guests would be arriving at six for his birthday party.

"Well, Master Bruce," Alfred said as he made his way into the room. "If you're not gonna get up, I'm afraid I have no choice but to force you out of bed." The alarm continued to blare as Bruce remained motionless in the bed as his hair covered his face. There was nothing left there for him, and he couldn't face the world. Seeing all the people he felt like he failed to protect would be gut wrenching. Bruce was harder on himself than anyone in the world would dream to be, but he had always been like that. In a way, in a strange way admittedly, it was like Bruce was bipolar. His lows were like this, but his highs were when he was excelling in just about everything he did. But when he failed to the magnitude that he believed he failed at, this was the result. A hollow man ridden with self pity and doubt.

Alfred turned off the alarm and turned towards the curtains, opening them to reveal the bright sun and promising sky. All Bruce saw was a bright light and a sky that he used to champion. He felt even worse as the light crept in. Closing his eyes immediately, he turned to the other side of the bed. Alfred made his way to the other side of the room and opened the other blinds, and the same result happened. Bruce closed his eyes at the sight of the sun and sky in dread. Bruce opened his eyes slowly and looked at the ceiling.

"I don't even want to do this party, Alfred… Just cancel it." Alfred shook his head, as he grabbed the sheets and threw them off of Bruce and onto the ground.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir, it's already too close to call it off. Guests will be here in about two hours so you have to get ready." Bruce was shaking again in angst of seeing people. His hands and chest shook, and he brought his hand up to inspect his vibrating appendage.

"I can't stop shaking, Alfred, at the thought of seeing them. Please… I can't look at them. Please, call it off." Alfred shook his head yet again, and walked out of the room.

"Guests will be here in two hours, Master Bruce! I suggest you shower and shave that face of yours." Bruce watched the fan blade spin, and his shaking increased. He was having an anxiety attack with all the thoughts that crept into his mind.

I can't see them… They'll look at me like a failure… Not them… I can't have people thinking the Wayne name is a failure… But what if it is?.. What if it already is and they're just right?.. Bruce shakingly rose from bed and made his way to the shower. He barely had the strength to stand, but he made his way slowly. He turned on the shower, and as he let it heat up, he walked over to the mirror and looked at himself. Looking at the knife wound and the bullet graze on each of his arms, he thought of the Joker. No one had seen him since that time at Maroni's three weeks prior. Hearing his laughter, he put his hands into his face and shook his head. The laugh increased in volume, and Bruce looked back into the mirror. His failure was like a weight that was tied to his body as he fell further and further towards the bottom of a sea or lake. Bruce was already at the bottom looking at the top of the water, and he just couldn't move. He could barely look at himself. Staring at himself in the mirror, he uttered the words, "I'm worthless…" and made his way into the shower.

Exiting the shower, Bruce shaved his face as he looked in the mirror sparingly. More and more of his face was revealed, and the hair fell into the sink. He styled his hair with what little strength he had, and dressed himself in a thirteen thousand dollar suit. Alfred made his way into the room and smiled with glee at the sight of Bruce dressing himself.

"Ah, Master Bruce, you look rather dashing. You haven't looked this good in months, it's so nice to see you like this." Tightening his tie, Bruce walked past Alfred.

"Let's just get this over with," Bruce said as he exited the room. He heard the chattering's of his other rich, elite top of the upper class civilians. The people there talked about such trivial matters, it sickened Bruce. To the bottom of his stomach, he felt sick. As they talked over stocks, their thriving business, their vacations, Gotham was sinking further and further into the cesspool. These conversations did nothing to better Gotham, and he wanted no part of them. Though he wanted nothing to do with them, Bruce Wayne was only seen in the public eye to avoid suspicion and show off the Wayne name to the people.

Bruce made his way down the stairs, and everyone clapped at the sight of him. Putting on the fakest smile, Bruce put his hand to his chest as a sign of his thanks. He was a phenomenal actor, mind you, but the way he felt made it increasingly difficult. The pit in his chest was encompassing his entire body. It was like a timer that let him know he could only do what he was doing for so long before he was consumed by it. The chasm spread across his body, threatening to swallow him. Shaking the hands of the people that glorified him for everything he hated about himself, the chasm grew deeper and more profound. Even looking into their eyes, and the fake smiles they had on their faces, it hurt him. It hurt him far more than it should have, but it hurt him all the same.

Making his way down the stairs, he met two people of great importance: Assistant DA Harvey Dent and his lovely girlfriend, Selina Kyle. Harvey was just as handsome as Bruce, and he was slightly more tan. His hair was jet black just as Bruce's, and he had hazel eyes. Shaking hands, the two locked eyes, and there was something in the eyes of Harvey Dent that subdued the chasm that was growing at an alarming rate. As the two shared a stare at one another, there was something about Harvey's smile that seemed so genuine. Bruce couldn't look away and he shook his hand far longer than he was comfortable with. Harvey played it cool, shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne, I've heard great things," said Harvey as Bruce refused to let go whilst he was in his trance. As the words left Harvey's mouth, Bruce snapped out of it, smiling at Harvey.

"Yes, it's nice to meet you! I must say, Assistant DA before the age of 30 is quite impressive. It makes me wonder exactly what I've done in my life. You're a year younger than me and you've already accomplished so much, Harvey." Harvey smirked at the comments. Everything he heard he already knew. His arrogance and ferocious determination drove him to be better, and he worked his way to the top. He graduated at the top of his class at Harvard Law school at the ripe age of 24. In two years, he was a premiere candidate at the firm he was working at. In the two years that followed, he ran for Assistant DA and won by a landslide. Harvey was charismatic, cool, and collected; all things that a lawyer needed. Better yet, he fought the corruption of Gotham. Constantly he stayed up long hours trying to find a way to bring down the two major crime families of Gotham. It was his goal to get Gotham crime free, and he was determined to do it within the system.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne, I appreciate that," Harvey said without even blushing because he knew it was the truth.

"Please, Harvey, call me Bruce." After that comment, Bruce looked to the woman next to Harvey as Harvey shook his head in agreement. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had long black hair, seemingly darker than Bruce's. Her eyes were greener than grass and emerald, and her lips were bright red as they defined her irresistible tanned skin. She smiled at Bruce. In awe, Bruce looked at her up and down. She was in this gorgeous skin tight black dress, and her cleavage was beautifully shown. Her body was the best he'd ever seen. The collarbones of her body were beautifully defined, and she had a slightly muscular yet still an alluringly feminine physique.

Selina stared at him as she was thinking the same thing. Bruce was devilishly handsome, and while he knew it, his confidence wasn't there in the slightest. Selina inspected his chiseled jawline, his sapphire eyes, his perfectly styled and parted sabled black hair. The two locked eyes, and the entire Wayne Manor could have imploded in a fiery blaze yet the two wouldn't have looked away. Selina reached her hand out, and Bruce touched it. As they touched, Bruce's heart fluctuated at an alarming weight. The touch of a woman he actually felt something for was something so foreign to him and it all happened too quickly.

"I hope that offer is extended to me too, Bruce," Selina smiled and her perfect, straight and shining white teeth illuminated the entire room. The chasm that was consuming Bruce's chest turned into an outgoing, ever fixated fascination and infatuation with this woman. Her smile could melt the thickest ice, the coldest of hearts. A smile like that from a woman who radiated such beauty was something that Bruce always believed he had to hold on to. Immediately, Bruce tried to play it cool.

"Of course, ma'am. May I ask you for your name?" Selina smiled as her shining red lips simply added to her beauty. She could've worn absolutely no makeup and she would have been the most beautiful woman in the room, and her doing so simply just invalidated every other woman there.

"Selina. Selina Kyle." The name of the woman Bruce thought to be the prettiest he had ever seen was like an arrow to the heart. Fireworks went off after each time she spoke to him, and all he wanted to do was speak to her for the entire night.

Bruce nodded as he stared Selina in the eyes, remarking, "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Selina. If you'll excuse me." Bruce walked away to introduce himself to more guests, and continued with the party. The attraction and temptation of her voice played over and over in his mind, and his palms began to sweat. For a brief time, he wasn't thinking about Batman or his failures that defined him to the lowest he had ever felt. The voice of Selina played over and over, and as the party progressed, the two locked eyes from across the room more than once. Her and Harvey were drinking over at the table with the other lawyers and upper class city officials, and Bruce talked with random guests as he made his way around his own party. The thought of her kept him going throughout the night, and eventually, he made his way back over to Harvey and Selina. He rested his hand on the back of Harvey's chair as he talked to the table.

"Well, I hope everyone is having a great time. I know I am!" Bruce laughed pretentiously, and so did the other patrons. Selina simply smiled as the man she thought he was grew. Her mind ran throughout endless possibilities as she saw Bruce for the first time. She had been around many rich men, so she knew the type. As she looked into Bruce's eyes, she had felt like there was far more to him than meets the eye. She looked in admiration and appeal at him, and every time the two locked eyes, the pair's hearts skipped a beat.

Sitting down, Bruce joined in on the conversation.

"So, guys, what were you guys talking about?" Harvey smiled, noticeably liquored up.

"Oh ya know, the two new guys in town, Batman and Joker. What do ya make of 'em, Wayne?" Harvey looked at Bruce cross eyed, completely gone from the booze he had drank. He looked over at Selina, and she smiled and shrugged at him, rolling her eyes.

"Well," Bruce said in an attempt to answer. "I think the Joker needs to be absolutely punished for what he's done… It's pretty inexcusable that a man who has committed such heinous crimes is still around in the city." Harvey nodded, and looked back at the other city officials.

"Yeah, no one has seen that goon since that night three weeks ago. I still can't believe Loeb and his GCPD idiots couldn't get either of them. I mean, c'mon! They were right there!" Bruce chuckled as Harvey exclaimed. Harvey looked back at Bruce, continuing as he talked slurred. "Yeah, and what about Batman? What do you think of him?"

Bruce swallowed at the question. He had no clue what he thought of Batman. Who was Batman? Who was the man behind the mask? It most assuredly was not Bruce Wayne, because Bruce Wayne couldn't do what the Batman did. Yet it absolutely was, and Bruce couldn't answer the question. He had no answer for it, to be more precise. He had no clue what to say, and he just sat there expressionless as Harvey asked him the question. Opening his mouth, he was cut off by Selina.

"Since you've never asked me, Harv, I'll answer for Bruce since it looks like he doesn't want to." The table looked over at Selina in disbelief. Harvey smiled as his date spoke, and nodded his head. The other people at the table were confused as to why the date of someone was talking and attempting to make a statement when she wasn't addressed. This exact moment was a microcosm of who exactly Selina Kyle was.

An orphan raised on the streets of Gotham, Selina Kyle always had to fight for what she believed in. She had nobody as she was raised in an all girls home until the age of sixteen years old. All she had were the people she called sisters and herself in the world, and she fought and scratched to protect them. As she made her way up the social ladder, Selina simply grew in grit and determination to get out of the gutter and lower class. She used her looks to seduce men to make money, and she had an admiration for all things rich and upper class. With these as her skills, she managed to escape from what she dreamt of escaping from, and she now lived in a nice apartment in downtown Gotham in the financial district.

Bruce smiled at the sight of a woman who wasn't afraid of what people thought of her. The image of her in his mind simply strengthened as he leaned in to listen.

"I think the Batman is great for Gotham, in all fairness." Harvey put down his drink and leaned into the table. The other guests did as well.

"What do you mean he's great for Gotham? All he's done since he's been here is beat on cops and criminals, and you're saying he's great for the city? How does that line up?"

"It's about time someone actually does something. I know you people have it rough and can't see the ground from your apartment buildings, but people down there are really struggling. It wasn't that long ago I was on that ground, and if Batman was around when I was that low, I think I would have felt a lot more safe."

Bruce smiled at the remark from Selina. For the first time in three weeks, he had felt like the Batman was a part of him. After renouncing it, he felt nothing but failure and contempt when he looked at the suit or even imagined it. Hearing something good coming out of the Batman inspired him. He felt in his chest the drive to put the cowl back on and go back out there. Yet, as quickly as the feeling came, the fear and anguish settled back in as he saw the Joker and all the other failures he had caused during his time as Batman. As quickly as he felt engaged once again, he had felt nothing all the same.

"I could be wrong," said Selina as she continued. "Who knows, maybe he is worse for the city, but you were telling me Harvey the other day that crime since he had shown up was down this month compared to last. Isn't that something?"

Harvey raised his eyebrows and nodded. "Yes, yes, that is something. It could also be that the new leader of the Maroni family, the Joker, hasn't been seen in three weeks either and that family has done nothing since his absence. I'm not saying it's causation, cause maybe it does have something to do with the Batman. But it definitely is correlated, Selina, there's no doubt about it."

"Maybe, maybe…" said Selina as she sipped her white wine. The imprint of her lipstick was inscribed onto the glass as she set it down. Bruce looked at the red lipstick on the glass and back at Selina as she looked at him. He swallowed as he looked away and around the room, smiling nervously. Selina was cool and collected, looking away as well. She continued speaking as she looked back at Harvey. "It could be that, or it could be that criminals are afraid of having their bones broken from the Batman when they commit a crime. I heard that he took down almost twenty of Maroni's thugs in that penthouse before half of them died cause of that helicopter explosion. I heard it would have been a lot worse if he wouldn't have been there."

Harvey had a vein that formed in his forehead, and he changed tone. His tone was more stern and direct, almost unrecognizable to the man Bruce met at the foot of the stairs.

"You think that, Selina, but you've always been an idealist. The GCPD would have handled it if Batman didn't show up. They were on their way down into the sewers before that freaking tank strolled in, damning the whole operation to hell. There's no doubt about it in that Joker escaped into the sewers, and they would have gotten him if it wasn't for the theatrics the Batman had pulled. So, no, Selina. It most definitely would have not been better had the Batman not been there." Harvey got up out of his seat and left the table. Selina smiled as she looked down at her feet as her date left the room entirely. She looked at the guests as they looked in disbelief. Looking back towards Bruce, she smiled.

"What can you do, huh? Men get so defensive when they're put into question." Selina sighed as she got up, walking towards Bruce. She reached her hand out, placing it right in front of Bruce's face. From there, Bruce could smell her perfume. It was hypnotizing. It was the best smell he had even brought into his nostrils, and he was paralyzed by her beauty and enchantment. He looked up at her as she continued her remarks. "Care for a dance while he's out of the room?" Bruce smiled as he grabbed her by the hand, and she walked him to the dance floor.

Arriving at the dance floor, Selina put her arms around Bruce as they slowly danced together. Bruce put his hands on her lower back, and Selina grinned. She leaned her head closer to his ears, whispering as she did so.

"You're much too modest, Bruce." Selina let go of Bruce, putting her hands on top of his as she lowered them to her hips. She placed his hands there, and smiled as she looked up into his eyes. His eyes were shaken with nerves and angst, and she could tell. "No need to be nervous, I'm sure this isn't the first time you've danced with a woman." Selina beamed as she looked into Bruce's nervous eyes. Bruce swallowed as he gripped Selina's dress tighter and with more confidence. Grinning, Selina bit her bottom lip as she said, "There we go."

The two danced to the song that played from the orchestra. Time was an illusion and the only thing that mattered was what was in front of the two of them. The energy between them was euphoric almost. As if nothing in this world was of concern besides the pair of them dancing in the foyer of Wayne Manor as they locked eyes. Selina smiled as she enjoyed Bruce's hands on her; Bruce was nervous staring into her eyes, barely being able to sustain looking into them for a certain amount of time. Bruce stared away, and Selina giggled.

"You lack confidence, what's up with that?" Bruce looked back at Selina, and almost in the voice he used as the Batman, more direct and true to himself, he responded.

"What do you mean?" Selina raised her eyebrows at his change of tone. She liked it. She liked it quite a bit in that she leaned forward and put her head on his chest. The grip around him tightened as she leaned in closer to him. Bruce's heartbeat was almost noticeable through his shirt, and Selina listened to it only increase.

"You know…" Selina said with her head still against Bruce's chest. As she began speaking she leaned her head back and looked him in his eyes. "I've been around, and I've really learned a whole lot about men." Bruce raised an eyebrow as Selina continued. "Men of your liking usually do what you did, and what we're doing now. When I met you, it was almost like I had never seen you before. As in I've never seen anyone like you. I watched you laugh earlier, and you sounded so pretentious and higher up, but when you've been to the places I've been, you can tell the fake laughs from the real ones. I can spot a faker a mile away, but with you, I couldn't crack it immediately." Selina put her hand to the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair. Bruce closed his eyes as he leaned into her hand. "Sometimes all it takes for someone who is trying to hide their pain is someone beautiful to be in their life. I see it all the time among your colleagues. I come around and their true selves come out." The couple continued to dance, even into the next song. They weren't even listening to the music, they just swayed in place to whatever they felt the rhythm was. "Once someone like me, a beautiful woman who knows what they want, comes into play, these men come crashing down. I see right through them. What is it with you, Bruce? Why is it that when I look into your eyes, I see nothing? You like lifeless, and you feel so odd. You're shaking like you've never done this before. What is it?"

Bruce swallowed and looked away from Selina. He tried everything to not look at her, and he was remiss when he looked back into her eyes. Her eyes were more green than a lime, and shined brighter than any jewel or gem there was. She looked calm and composed, whereas Bruce felt erratic and all over the place. He had been with many women in his life, but the sight of Selina Kyle paired with his mindset the past three weeks left him a shell of himself. The feelings he had so quickly gained for Selina was the only sign he was truly alive in almost a month. The touch of her hand to his head made him feel invigorated, and the smell of her perfume made him feel at ease. His lips quivered as he tried to respond.

"I-... I-..." Selina smiled as she let go of him. She patted him on the chest, chuckling as she did so.

"You don't have to answer, Bruce. You seem like you have a lot going on up there, so I'll leave you to it. But…" Selina reached for her purse, grabbing a pen. She grabbed Bruce's hand, and as she wrote her number on his palm, she spoke. "When you get over it, give me a call. I'd leave to meet the real you."

That comment sent a chill through Bruce's entire body. The real me?... Bruce thought. The real me? He watched Selina as she exited the foyer of the building and left Wayne Manor. He looked at his hand and saw the number on it, and Alfred walked up behind him.

"Alfred…" Bruce said as Alfred responded with a noise. "Put this number on a piece of paper."

Alfred nodded his head, and inspected the number.

"Selina Kyle, Master Bruce? Is that her name?" Alfred wrote the number down on paper, and looked at Bruce look at her through the window as she got into the townscar. The car drove away and Bruce looked at it for as long as he could. "She is quite beautiful, wouldn't you say so, Master Bruce?"

Bruce was in a trance at her closing statement to end the night. The real me? The real me? Who is it? Bruce thought deeply about her statement. He was a shaken mess, and the comment from her really made him wonder what the answer to her question was. Bruce had felt lifeless from the moment after he returned home three weeks prior and until he met Selina Kyle. That time period made Bruce feel so lifeless and out of sorts, he truthfully forgot any sort of identity he had formed for himself. When he renounced Batman, in more ways than one, he renounced the very thing that drove him to be who he was. His entire essence was transcribed into the identity of the Batman, and to renounce and go away with such a thing meant the very foundation of who he was was gone. The Batman was who Bruce Wayne was, not vice versa. Everything the Batman represented was true to how Bruce felt deep down someplace, somewhere. That's why he felt so lifeless and out of sorts without the Batman in his life, because for the first time in twenty-one years, his identity was unknown. It was like he was a child with no task or drive, waiting to be told what to do. When Alfred told him to shower, he did. When Alfred told him to get ready for the party, he did. When Selina told him to dance, he did. It was like he was a slave with the absence of free will and any authenticity. Without the Batman, Bruce Wayne was only Bruce Wayne in name. He was nothing without him, and Selina Kyle made it all too clear. The way he acted, unsure and without confidence and charisma was so far off to who he was. Bruce was one of the most intelligent people on the planet, and he had charisma out the ass when he really wanted to. Bruce was the most determined person ever conceived by the hands of god, and he knew it. Yet, upon meeting Selina Kyle, she did exactly as she said she did to other men. The walls came crashing down, and who he was was revealed to him. He was the Batman, and no one else.

Finally, he felt a pulse from his heart. His entire body was invigorated, and he closed his fists with such strength and grit. For the first time in forever, it felt like he could truly breathe. The life that was in him returned, and he felt invigorated and oddly enough, relaxed. He opened his fists, and looked at his hands and they weren't shaking. He put his palm to his chest, and it was still. Bruce smiled, and looked back out the window. The weights that were on him were finally stripped off, and he walked freely. He walked out of the building, and across the Manor towards the grave of his parents. Where he tripped before he walked over with such ease, and he made his way to their graves.

Bruce inspected the graves of his parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne. For the first time, he didn't feel hollow as he looked at their tombstones overlooking Wayne Manor. Quite the opposite occurred in that he felt an overwhelming sense of tranquility and calm. He wasn't happy that his parents were dead, not in the slightest, nor did he want to accept it. But he realized that the death of his parents showed him who the Batman was. In this realization, he inhaled and qualified it with grace.

"I don't know if I can face my own failure, admittedly," said Bruce as he talked to the tombstones of his parents. "Father, your dying words to me were to always see the good in people. I tried… Dammit I tried with all my might to see the good in this man, but I'm afraid the good in him is gone. The man that I knew died like he said he did. I have to stop him, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it… Even in my dreams I see him, and sometimes even when I'm awake. I hear his laughter all the time, and it takes everything out of me… I'm afraid… I'm afraid of him. No matter what I do, I don't know if I will ever escape that." Bruce swallowed as he stopped for a brief moment. He looked up into the night sky at the moon that towered over him, inspecting him with great detail. In the basking light of the moon, Bruce smiled. "But I'm afraid of so many other things too… I'm afraid of the guns that took your lives; I'm afraid of the criminals taking my life; I'm afraid of failing. That doesn't mean that I should lock myself away in the house and give up. I can't give up. I will probably fail many more times, and… While I never want to fail, I can't escape the fact that I will. I'm simply a man, but over time I can strive to be more and more of the legend I have in my own mind. The Batman in concept has to be perfect, but aren't all concepts? I got in my head… If I fail, that's okay. As long as I never stop trying to amend my failures, then it will be okay. I'll never stop again… I know who I am now. I'm your son, Bruce Wayne, and Bruce Wayne is the Batman. And I promise on your graves that I will never give up again. Even if it's impossible not to, I will never give up until the end. If the Joker kills me, then at least I died trying to amend my failure. I'm ready and I accept death if it's in my future. If I live, that's okay; and if I die, that's okay, too. I accept both for what they are." Bruce walked away from the graves of his parents with his heart and mind full. As he left their grave sight, he finished his remarks. "I will never let you guys down again."

XIV

As Bruce reentered the house, the guests were leaving. Alfred was by the main door as he thanked them for coming, and Bruce shook the hands of his guests as they left. When the house was empty, Bruce immediately went to the grandfather clock in the library of the Manor and made his way down to the Batcave. In disbelief, Alfred followed him without a word. Bruce walked down the long flight of stairs and made his way into the cave, making his way towards the Batcomputer. He sat down in the chair, and Alfred acted like his shadow as he followed him.

"Why the sudden change of heart, Master Bruce?" Bruce smiled, yet didn't turn towards Alfred upon his response.

"Because this is where I belong, Alfred - this is who I am." Seeing and hearing the life that had reestablished itself in Bruce, Alfred couldn't hold back his smile. He looked at Bruce as if he had just come back to life, and his heart danced with pure joy and delight. Alfred nodded his head with the biggest smile, holding back the tears as he responded.

"It's great to see you back, sir." Bruce focused on the computer.

"Joker hasn't been seen since three weeks ago… He's plotting something. I'm not sure what, but he is. He mentioned trying to incite a war with the Falcone's, but I can't imagine that's going to happen anytime soon after he lost twenty of his men… So what? What is he planning? I have no choice but to wait for him to act. It'd be like finding a needle in the haystack. Once he acts, I'll be there to stop him once and for all."

It was a simple day when the Pinkney Orphanage was doing their yearly fundraiser. The annual Thanksgiving Day fundraiser for Christmas gifts for the orphans was one of their biggest days of the year. Every year, it made the national news because it would consistently raise over millions of dollars for the children. The Pinkney Orphanage was the pride and joy among the foster homes for orphans, and any orphan that made it there hit the jackbox for a remedial home. On this fateful day, both the Joker and Bruce Wayne watched the news when they saw it.

Joker did in fact escape through the sewers, and he was hiding out in an old safe house that used to belong to Maroni. It was off the books completely, and he and a few of his remaining men laid low there for the time being. All they could do was watch TV, and Joker looked in awe as he saw what was on it. The newscast was reporting the fundraiser, informing the public of how the fundraiser was going to occur, when, where and why. When they interviewed one of the orphans, at the sight of her he leaned forward in his seat. There she was: the blonde girl with blue eyes that beckoned for him to come home. At the sight of her, his heart stopped. His mind shook at the pressure of seeing the girl that he could not escape from. He had no clue who she was, but he recognized her all the same. His former self scratched at the sight of her, but the Joker kept him at bay. The Joker simply smiled as he knew what he needed to do to completely keep Clint Daymond locked away. Joker knew the name Anna meant something to Clint Daymond, but he didn't tie the pieces together. All he saw was her face moment after moment. The girl without a name was on his television screen, and he knew exactly what he had to do. In order to be completely free, he had to eradicate all things from the past of the man he used to be. Only then would freedom accept him. So he got up from his chair, and he turned to his men.

"Well, men! Since we lost all our money in the penthouse, it looks like we found a new way to replace it!" He pointed the gun towards the TV screen, and smiled. One of his henchmen questioned the reasoning of the Joker.

"Really, boss? We're gonna take the money that's supposed to go to those orphans? That's kinda messed up, don'tcha thi-" Joker shot the henchman in the face before he could finish his sentence. The .44 magnum made the man's face explode, and pieces of his skull and brain cascaded the wall behind him. Raising his eyebrows and smiling as he did so, he looked at the other twelve men who were around him in the room. They looked in fear as they tried to evade the barrel of the gun.

"Anyone else have any objections?" They shook their head no instantly, and the Joker chuckled. "Good! Let's get ready!"

Bruce watched the news that night as well, and he leaned forward in his seat as the little girl was shown on the TV. When he saw the girl, the panicked feeling he had before had returned but he forced it back down. He wouldn't allow himself to feel as he felt again, so for the time being, he simply ignored it as he fought it off at the same time. Laser focused on what he just saw on the news, he spoke as he watched the TV.

"There… There she is, Alfred." Alfred was dusting the monitors across the Batcave when Bruce spoke. He walked as he placed the duster down as he did so.

"There 'who' is, Master Bruce?" Bruce paused at a frame where the little girl was on screen, the daughter of Clint Daymond. He pointed at her and turned his head towards Alfred.

"That's his daughter from when he was Clint Daymond. This is the girl I saved that night, and the last remaining person alive besides me that knows of his past. Jervis is completely insane, so he doesn't matter. He doesn't even think about Jervis whatsoever. I know he's watching this, Alfred… I just do. There's no way he wouldn't be. Him seeing her will spark something in him, and I have to be there if he tries to do anything." Bruce took a step back as he stood parallel and next to Alfred. He pointed at the screen, and in a direct and undeterred tone, he finished his thought. "His next public appearance will be at this fundraiser, tonight. It starts in an hour, I need to get ready."

Bruce walked over to where his suit was hanging. As he approached, it made its way out of the ground and opened up its case, revealing the suit of the Batman. Bruce stared at it sternly as he removed it from its case. Alfred watched as he dressed himself, and he thought back to how Bruce was weeks prior. The hollowed man who looked and felt next to nothing. How painful it was to see him like that, but at least Alfred knew he was safe. Alfred thought more to himself, questioning his thought process.

If I can't support him, he won't make it… He won't succeed. Though I'm deathly afraid of him ultimately failing, that isn't my place to condone how he was. If he ever gets like that again, I will get him out of it. The look in his eye now… Life is back in them. I don't want to ever see his eyes lifeless ever again.

Bruce had everything on except the cowl, and he stared at it. The dark shadows of the cave hung over him as he stared at the cowl of the Batman, and he felt strange. He felt calm. He wasn't shaking, or nervous in any way. He was afraid of failing, yes, but he was calm all the same. Looking into the white eyes of the cowl, he felt easy and tranquil. Bruce inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, calming himself even more. Alfred walked to him, smiling as he did so.

"Master Bruce, a word if I may?" Bruce turned to Alfred and nodded his head as he gripped the cowl in one hand. "I'm glad to see you back to how you were, sir, but I must say… I'm sorry I didn't speak up about it… I was very selfish, and I should've done more to help you. I-" Bruce shook his head and cut off Alfred.

"Not another word," said Bruce as he looked at the saddened look on Alfred's face. " Just your presence alone, Alfred, calmed me more than you know." Bruce put on the cowl, and he walked away. Stopping as he reached the Batmobile, he turned back towards Alfred, smiling as he did so. "For what it's worth, Alfred… Thank you." Batman opened the canopy of the Batmobile and drove off towards the Pinkney Orphanage. Alfred walked to see the Batmobile leave the tunnel, and he had tears forming in his eyes.

"Be careful, Master Bruce."

Batman accelerated towards the Pinkney Orphanage. The Batmobile touched 120 miles per hour as it swerved through traffic, with the moon rising and the sun setting. It was early for him to be out, but the circumstances called for it. He needed to stop the Joker, by any means. Even if it meant bending the rule of him only being out at night by a couple of minutes.

Anna… Batman thought to himself, gripping the wheel as he accelerated even more. I will protect you from him. No matter what. By the time he arrived, it was nightfall. It was the night before Thanksgiving yet there was a sharp chill breeze in the night sky, as the temperature pushed below 50 degrees. Batman grappled to the roof of the building, waiting patiently. He listened as the fundraiser began, listening to the speeches of the donors and the representatives of the Pinkney Orphanage. His cape streamed in the crisp, frigid night in Gotham City. As the night progressed, the temperature dropped more and more below what it was as he arrived. By the time the fundraiser was halfway through, it was below 40 degrees. The fundraiser progressed, and he wondered if he was wrong. His eyebrows curled downward, and he peeked over the roof of the building to inspect the scene.

Nothing looks off… Was I wrong? Did he not see? As Batman thought it over, he looked out into the bay and saw a yacht approaching. As Batman saw his own breath, he wondered why there was a yacht out in the harbor. Touching his cowl to zoom in on it, that's when he saw it. There in the middle of the yacht was a giant paper mache cut out of the Joker, identical to the one seen on the playing cards labeled, "Joker's Casino." Batman's eyes widened as he inspected the boat.

About thirty men, just from what I can see. Where is he? Batman surveyed the yacht, but he couldn't find Joker. He was nowhere to be seen. Batman weighed his options. Do I wait till he reveals himself?.. Or do I attack the boat before it docks? Nodding his head, he grabbed his grapnel as he shot to a higher building about a hundred feet away. From there, he boosted the receiver of the grapnel gun as he rose past the ledge of the building, gliding towards the boat.

The boat was filled with men armed with guns, weapons, anything of the sort. Batman glided in the air as he was masked by the night sky, making his way towards the yacht. The boat was lit up and the sound of circus music only increased as he crept closer to the boat. Being above it, he let go of his cape, falling down towards the main hull of the boat. As he fell down, Batman grabbed his grapnel gun, replacing the nozzle. In doing so, he attached a new device that let him have three grapnels, though they went considerably less distance and shot in a set, triangular array. Now, approximately 60 feet above the boat, he aimed at three thugs that hung around close to each other, and he shot the grapnel. The three were grabbed by the gun, and Batman pulled them forward. They came to each other instantly and rose off the ground, and with Batman coming so fast towards them, it seemed like Batman just grabbed them out of the sky to the other criminals.

"WHAT THE HELL?" As the criminals rose up, Batman grabbed them, and in the air as he used them as a base, he flipped them around and used their bodies as a spring downwards towards the ground. The criminals were now behind him, and still holding the gun, Batman shot the grapnel once again as it flew into the Gotham harbor, flinging the criminals into the water approximately 30 feet in the air. As Batman landed, the criminals fell in the water with no hope of reentering the boat. The thugs swam to the shore approximately a quarter mile away.

Batman appeared menacing with the night's sky shining down on him. He was crouched down, but slowly he rose as his cape curled on the ground, extending with him. The criminals looked in fear at the beast in front of them. Batman struck incredibly, profound fear in them just by his horrifying presence. His white eyes floated in the air seemingly, and the only thing that resembled a man to the criminals was his jawline and mouth. Without saying a word, the criminals stormed Batman, and Batman engaged.

He waited for an opponent to strike him, and he evaded it with ease. He grabbed the man by the arm and swept his leg, causing him to fall. As he fell, he punched him in the rib with so much force that it shot the man approximately four feet away from him. He landed on two other thugs, knocking them down. Batman grabbed his gel gun and shot all 10 rounds of it at the hands and feet of the thugs. The ones that got their feet shot were stuck, and the ones who had their hands shot were defenseless. Batman looked as if he was dancing to a beat that he was the only one aware of the tempo for, hitting the criminals with serenity and poise. His fists attacked the stuck criminals as they knocked them out with ease, and he bopped and capered across the battlefield. His feet restructured the faces of the criminals that stood no match to him; his fists felt at ease as they broke the bones of the criminals that feared him. 30 men quickly went down to 20, and 20 to 15. Batman's heart rate was calm. The fists he possessed quivered no longer in fear. No, they were not the fists of someone who was afraid. Batman's fists were calm, collected and composed. His fists were not the weapons to fight his fear - they were fists repurposed to instill fear in others.

I feel so… Calm? I can see everything that they're doing, it's like my body is moving for me. I'm out of my head, and I'm just… At ease. Batman's thoughts kept him at ease as he fought off the criminals. Without even flinching at the sight of the gunmen who ran out of the captain's quarters, he evaded to an opposite direction as he whirled and twirled away from the bullets like an olympic gymnast. As he spun and gyrated in the air, Batman grabbed 4 Batarangs from his utility belt, throwing it at the 5 gunmen. The Batarangs spun towards the men, and imprinted themselves into the hands, legs and bodies of the men, causing them to scream. Some found themselves a home in the gunmen's hands; some slit the hamstrings or Achilles' tendons of the thugs; some made their way in the shoulders and upper arms; but all incapisitated the gunmen and the gunfire stopped. 15 men turned into 10, and he continued without a second thought. It was as if his body was going through the motions and his mind was catching up and making sense of it. He had never felt this calm and at ease in his entire life, and the criminals stood no chance. The fists of the Batman broke their noses; the legs and feet of the Batman broke their bones; the will and dominance of the Batman broke their spirits. No weapon would matter as he knew how to deal with it. As they swung their bats, he ducked under them, headbutting them with the back of his head as he rose and punched their chests. Their punches were useless because he would take advantage of their weak stances, knocking them down and knocking them out. Anything that they thought of, Batman had already seen and knew the answer to. It was futile. They were outmatched. Down to the last man standing, Batman punched him in the collarbone with ease, snapping it cleanly in half. All 30 men were on the ground either knocked out or in too much pain to stand, and Batman looked around just to make sure. He listened to the moans and cries of the criminals that challenged him and he stood still for a moment as he listened to them.

Batman brought his hands to where he could see them, looking at them. He saw the imprints of blood on his knuckles, and he inspected it. After that, he opened his hands and turned his palms to his body. I'm not shaking… I'm not nervous. I'm calm. He, then, brought one of his hands to his chest to see if he was shaking there. Nothing… My heart rate is barely elevated. Batman took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes as he did so. He opened them and looked at the giant paper mache cut out of the Joker. He nodded his head, and thought to himself once again. I'm not afraid. I can do this.

The reverb of a microphone started on the yacht, and Batman stood still. The elevating laughter of the Joker played, and it increased with every second that passed. Batman stood still, remaining calm. He let him laugh, and then the Joker spoke over the intercom.

"Bravo! Bravoooo, Batman! 30 men, sheesh! Even I would struggle with 20, and you made 30 of my best guys look like kindergartners with toys! Haha," said Joker into the mic.

"Give it up, Joker. You can't win. I will stop you." Joker simply laughed at the comment, and in his laughter he replied to Batman.

"Oooo, I'm truly counting on it. Our last meeting was cut far too short! That helicopter was in a no fly zone, and I told him. I was telling him for weeks to not fly that low. I was simply doing my part as a citizen! You can't blame me, Batman." Joker laughed at his own joke, and Batman made a fist. As quickly as his fist formed, he eased it back to his hands simply being at his side.

I can't let him get to me… That's what happened last time and he got away. Taking another deep breath, he continued to listen to the Joker after he stopped laughing.

"Tonight, Batman, we're gonna play a little moral, sociological experiment. You've probably heard of it, I dunno. Anyway, that giant cutout you see is a good ol' run of the mill bomb big enough to destroy a city block." Batman's eyes widened and he instantly turned on his scanner from his cowl, inspecting the cutout. Sure enough, the cutout was laced with fertilizer, ammonium nitrate and gasoline. His brow curled, and he looked at the speaker that blared the Joker's voice. "Pretty shifty, huh? Took me a while to crack the recipe, but it's there alright. Now there's that bomb, and there's also a bomb placed on some homeless man I found on the street. I told him, Batsy, I told him I didn't want my windshield cleaned! I was strapped for cash! He wouldn't stop, so I did what needed to be done. I grabbed him and threw him in the car, tied a suicide vest onto him, and threw him in the dumpster of the Pinkney Orphanage. That dumpster, my dear Batsy, is right next to the rooms of aaaall those little ducklings inside that Orphanage waiting for mommy to come back."

Joker laughed and Batman stood there, appalled at the conundrum he was now in. The bomb would assuredly kill all the criminals on board, and the bomb at the orphanage would most definitely kill the children. Batman's ultimate code of never killing was put into question, and he had no clue what to do.

"So, what'll it be, Batman? The deplorable thugs you just knocked out with no hopes of saving themselves? Or the sweet little children who have no clue what could be in their future? Hurry on now, you don't want to run out of time!" Batman ran to the paper Mache statue of the Joker, and ripped off the paper. There was a timer that was counting down from 5 minutes in the middle of the mountain of fertilizer. Batman remained calm, but his heart rate was increasing. He only had five minutes to come up with his plan to save both parties, enact it and catch the Joker. He had no choice but to call for help.

Batman grabbed the phone he gave Jim Gordon and dialed it quickly. The Bluetooth speaker in his cowl rang, and Gordon picked up almost immediately.

"Hello? Batman? Is that you?" Batman answered immediately and in a rushed tone.

"Gordon, I need help. Joker is attacking the Pinkney Orphanage. He has two bombs primed to go off at the same time, you have to clear the building immediately." Gordon raised his eyebrows and put his hand to his face, shaking his head.

"Man that psycho really has no limits does he. How long do we have?"

Batman swallowed because he knew Gordon wasn't going to like the answer, and neither did he.

"Five minutes." Gordon exclaimed at the sentiment.

"Five minutes?! Are you kidding me?" Gordon sighed and calmed down, regaining his composure. He knew it was out of Batman's control, and he shook his head as he thought of the best course of action. "Okay, I'll send every nearby cop over there now-"

Batman immediately cutoff Gordon, speaking quickly as he inspected the bomb in the middle of the yacht. "No! You can't make a scene! If Joker knows or even suspects that I'm getting help, he could blow them up before the timer! How far are you? Can you get here immediately?" Gordon shook his head, and answered Batman.

"No, I'm across town, I'm more than 5 minutes away." Batman nodded, and as Gordon finished his sentence, he looked over in disbelief.

The Batmobile approached the car Gordon was in, and revved its engine in front of the apartment buildings he was about to enter. Gordon's jaw almost dropped to the floor, and Batman continued speaking nonchalantly.

"Get in the car. You'll be here in three minutes if you get in right now, we don't have any time to waste. When you get here, go to the dumpster by the dorms, that's where the bomb is. Joker says it's attached to someone stowed away there. When you get there, just keep it secure. I'll be right behind you." Gordon shuffled to get out of his car immediately, and ran to the vehicle. His auburn hair was a mess from running and struggling to get out of the vehicle, and his thick brown mustache still had coffee in it from the sip he took before Batman called him. The canopy of the vehicle opened, and Gordon stopped for a second to admire the sheer mechanical achievement it was. Though it was large in size, it was sophisticated and cool. It had all the appeal of a badass vehicle, and Gordon was giddy to enter it. He climbed the Batmobile, got in through the canopy, and it immediately accelerated from 0-90 miles per hour in five seconds. It swerved in and out of traffic, went through alleyways, went over medians - everything to save time.

As Gordon made his way to the site, Batman inspected the bomb in front of him on the yacht. It was a fertilizer bomb without any wires, but it was enclosed in a case that had a detonator strapped to it. The bags of fertilizer were all painted with smiley faces, and Batman inspected the scene carefully.

This is pretty legit… I have to be careful. Batman reached into his utility belt and grabbed the lazer that he used to cut metal grates with. He cut the area of the detonator slowly, carefully. He had to be careful and not set it off or he and everyone else on the yacht would die instantly. The brow of Batman sweated cautiously, but he successfully cut the detonator out of the case, and he caught it before it moved a great deal. With a steady hand, he set the detonator down on to the ground and inspected it. He turned on his scanner and analyzed the detonator thoroughly.

The bomb is legit, but the detonator is lazy. It's a simple pyrotechnic detonator, I can delay the charge with an EMP. Batman reached into his belt, grabbing his EMP grenades as he attached them to the detonator. As he did so, he checked the time and two minutes had already passed. Three minutes remained to save the man who Joker put the other bomb on. Batman set off the EMP grenades, and in doing so he grabbed the detonator and threw it into the bay. As soon as the detonator hit the water, the Joker slammed the desk he was watching the entire thing on in his rage and annoyance.

"Fine! Plan B, then, just in case." Joker's location was the roof of the Pinkney building. He had snuck in while the fundraiser was just beginning just before Batman had arrived at the scene. Getting up from his chair, he grabbed the .44 magnum revolver and walked out of the room, muttering under his breath how annoying the whole situation was. Opening the door quickly, Joker made his way out of the room and down the stairs into the main dorm hall of the Orphanage. Making his way towards the all girl's wing of the orphanage, Joker ignored his anger and started to giggle as he walked that way. Clint Daymond, deep in the burrows of the Joker's mind, fought tooth and nail to regain control. He begged and pleaded for the Joker to let go, but Joker laughed him off. Clint was growing weaker, and the Joker knew it. He hated the random feeling of angst he would get when he would remember the past, or anything to do with Clint's life in general. Joker wanted to be absolutely free from any and everything, and he was determined to do so.

Arriving at the girl's wing of the orphanage, Joker opened the door and at the sight of the girls he smiled. The girl's looked at Joker in great confusion, wondering who this strange man was. Joker smiled as he surveyed the room, looking for the blonde haired girl.

"Hello, kiddos. Any of you seen a girl by the name of 'Anna'?" He smiled, and the group of girls' resilience towered immensely as they saw the strange man's smile. Tension filled the room as no one responded, and Joker laughed. He laughed in front of the children, and their uncomfortability simply skyrocketed. The maniacal, diabolical laugh resonated throughout the room had died down, and Joker walked around as he inspected the girls. His shining, ruby red lips had a white mark from the light on the ceiling that followed him all across the room; his green eyes looked at all of the children with such intent, it looked as if he could've taken any one of them; and his hair was perfectly parted in a style he quite liked.

As he made his rounds, that's when he saw her. Hiding behind her friend as she hugged her arm was the little girl. Joker's eyes shined brightly at the sight of her, as if his dream was right in front of him and all he had to do was reach out and take it. Joker got down on one knee, reaching his hand out to the little girl. The two locked eyes, and the tension in the room could be cut with a knife, that's how thick it was. It was hard to breathe for the other girl's, and even the Joker's heart beat was rising.

The little girl looked in confusion at the man in front of her. How did he know her name? Why was he here for her? The man Anna looked at was entirely unrecognizable for any one that she had ever known. Joker smiled, and looked Anna in the eyes.

"Don't you remember me, Anna?" Anna didn't recognize the voice of the man either, as it was far more raspy than her father's was. Her gut instinct was that it was, because their facial structures were similar, but she kept seeing what she saw every single night since it happened. The bubbles that formed from her father drowning and burning alive in the chemicals; the maniacal laughter that she heard come from him; Batman saving her, and the exchange the two had before the police showed up. That night constantly played in her mind for the past two months, and she couldn't unsee or escape from it. Constantly, night after night, she woke up with the same nightmares of the event.

The only thing she recognized was the laughter she had heard before he addressed her. That she recognized, and she feared it. The reason she didn't immediately go up to him was because she was frozen in fear and the memories of her past. As she stared into the man that reached out for her, she wanted to say the words on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't. The thought of her father looking like that scared her, and her palms began to sweat; her eyes began to quiver in fear; and her whole body vibrated at the sight of her father. The realization that it was him started to set in, and she was becoming more and more afraid. Joker smiled at the sight of the little girl quivering in fear, and he inched closer to her.

The Joker touched Anna on the side of her head, and Anna was frozen with fear. It wasn't until Anna looked at the gloves, seeing the striking resemblance to the one she had stowed away under her pillow. Every night, she would hug the glove of her father to fall asleep. Looking at that glove, a near identical one to the one she had, she lightened up. She looked up at Joker, her eyes forming tears. She grabbed him by the suit jacket, and burrowed her head into his chest.

"Daddy!... It really is you!" Anna sobbed in his chest, and tears ran down the suit jacket of Joker. He smiled, and put his hand on the back of the little girl, patting her. She talked through her sobbing almost incoherently. "I thought you were dead! I saw you die, they told me you died! I didn't want to believe it, I didn't! I waited up every night for you so you could come get me! I'm sorry I couldn't hold on, daddy, I'm sorry!" Joker hugged the girl, and the man who used to be Clint Daymond, far down in the deepest corner of Joker's mind, was brought to his knees in tears. He looked through what used to be his eyes at his daughter, powerless to stop the animal that now controlled his body. That was when the Joker knew who exactly Anna was. When Batman mentioned her, he simply put a face to the name that he kept seeing: Anna. But now, the little girl confirmed it: she was the daughter of the man he sought to destroy. The key to his freedom was this girl being dealt with, and the thought of him being so close made the smile on his face grow even more.

"I know, I know, dear… But daddy is here, it's okay." Joker couldn't hold back his smile and giggly mood as he grabbed his daughter's hand, standing up. Anna looked up in admiration at her father, and tears rolled down her face. "Let's go home," said Joker as he grabbed his daughter by the hand and left the room.

As Joker left the room, the Batmobile with Jim Gordon arrived at the scene. There was approximately a minute and 45 seconds left until the second bomb went off. Batman was already by the dumpster, inspecting it. Gordon, running behind him, spoke as he ran.

"How's it looking, Batman?" Batman didn't turn to look at Gordon to respond, instead he continued using the scanner in his cowl to inspect the dumpster. He saw the outline of the homeless man, and he zoomed in to see the suicide vest on his body. Scanning the dumpster entirely, he noticed that the lid had a string attached to it that was pinned to the detonator on the man's chest. Batman heard the muffled screaming from the homeless man, and he quickly acted as he grabbed the laser cutter on his belt, cutting through the thick steel of the dumpster. Gordon watched his back, and Batman acknowledged him finally.

"Gordon, I've got this covered. I think Joker is hiding out in the orphanage somewhere. It's only a hunch, but that detonator he had could only work from about a thousand feet away, and that boat was about that far. The closest building from there is the orphanage." Batman finished cutting the dumpster, and cut the string that was attached to the pin. He placed an EMP on the vest, and detonated it, harboring the bomb useless. He looked at his wrist and he had about 20 seconds to spare, and he exhaled. Thinking about how easy it was to disarm the bombs, a realization occurred to Batman.

That was easy… Too easy. Why? Why put bombs that were that easy to disarm? Unless… Batman's eyes widened, and he turned quickly to Gordon.

"He's got a child! We need to find him, now!" Batman immediately grappled to the roof of the building, and turned on his scanner. His heart rate was ascending as he scanned the building. The eyes of Batman shook side to side in a terrifying way as he looked for Joker. He analyzed the building up and down, until finally, he found him. He watched as he held the hand of Anna, and Batman's fists clenched tightly. Batman ran on the roof, grappling towards the chimney, and ascended in the air. He used the grapnel boost to just get air time, as he used his downwards momentum to crash through the roof, landing in front of the Joker.

Anna looked in disbelief at the sight of the Batman. Someone she had seen two months prior, she smiled at him. She waved towards Batman and pointed at the Joker.

"Oh, Batman! It's really you!" She smiled innocently, her cheeks blushing red. The Joker looked straight into the eyes and soul of Batman as he stood eerily still. Batman looked at Joker as well. The two locked eyes, and the tension filled the room. He knew that that was it. Batman knew that this was the defining moment in his career. The Joker would either be defeated, or the Batman would be no more. There was no compromise or no alternative. Everything was right in front of them, and all they did was look at each other. Batman listened to his heart rate as it grew, but he took a deep breath. He knew if he let himself get out of control that Joker would win. The calmest in the room is always the soundest of mind, and that's quite an odd thing to say when there's a homicidal maniac in the room, but the expression still stands. Batman knew he had to remain calm or else Batman would be no more. He unwound his fist, and simply straightened his posture, looking at the girl who continued talking.

"Look who it is, it's my dad! He's alive!" Batman swallowed as he replied to the girl.

"That's not your father anymore, Anna. Get away from him."

The girl looked in great confusion at Batman. The hole Batman just made in the roof made him shine with great wonder and intricacy, and he looked more lively than the night she met him. The greenish hue that made up the room of the Ace Chemicals Building made Batman appear scary and horrifying; yet with the gaping hole that acted like a spotlight as the moonlight of the Gotham moon crept in, Batman looked quite different. Moonlight that shined through the hole in the roof made Batman unignorable to the girl, and it lightened him up. He didn't look demonic or scary; quite the opposite because he looked stoic and undisturbed.

"What do you mean, Batman?" As soon as Anna questioned Batman, she could hear the cocking of a gun behind her. Joker put his .44 magnum revolver to the little girl's head, leaning down to her level and smiled at the Batman. Batman's eyes widened, and tried to jump towards Joker. Immediately he stopped himself, recognizing that he was helpless in the situation. He restrained himself despite the want to pummel the Joker greatly. He simply reached his hand out, looking straight at Anna.

"It's gonna be okay, Anna. Just stay calm." Anna looked at disbelief next to her head as the Joker smiled from ear to ear. His lips were so red that they looked bloodied, and his eyes shined with comedy. He got down on one knee, and put his arm around Anna as he forced her towards his body with the gun still pointed at her right temple. Looking at Batman, he laughed.

"What'll ya do now, Bats? Trapped, aren't ya? Hahaha!" Batman simply stood still as he let him laugh. The laughter made its way into the ears of the little girl, giving her goosebumps as he wouldn't stop. She started to cry, and Joker looked at her. "Ohhh, don't cry little girl! Batman said it's going to be okay, didn't he?" He smiled devilishly as he looked back at Batman, keeping the gun implanted into the girl's temple. "You know, I almost took a little peeksy behind that mask of yours a few weeks ago, but I stopped myself. You're far too fun just the way you are, I don't want it to change. Wasn't it just a doozy?"

Batman immediately responded in a monotone voice, saying, "Twenty people died in the helicopter explosion, and you murdered a mother and her children. I wouldn't say it was much of anything else than you being insane."

"Ohh, but what is insanity, Batman? To me, I look normal and you look crazy. Just like you view me. The way I see it, insanity is like pushing on a pull door. You just keep doing it and doing it without reading the clear instructions, but you don't want to. It's much more fun to figure it out by yourself, wouldn't you say?" Joker laughed, and Batman shook his head without saying anything in response. Looking intently into the eyes of Batman, Joker continued. "You kept mentioning Clint Daymond last time, and it's funny… I think he and I are the same. I can see his failures so clearly, and I wonder what took him so long to fully break down. Then I really started to think, Batman… Was it Jervis's device that changed him into me, or was everything right there in front of him the entire time, waiting for him to reach out for it? Was I always in Clint, waiting to be called on?" Joker smiled even more, as he continued. "The more I think about it, the more inclined I am to believe the latter."

Batman took a step forward as he responded with his agitation and discomfort growing.

"That's not true! Clint Daymond was a good man, he just never caught a break. There's no way he would be like this without that god forsaken device that warped both you and Jervis. I refuse to believe it."

Joker laughed at Batman's response, tilting his head upwards. "You don't have to believe a thing Batman, it's my own truth."

"The truth of a mad man holds no value in my eyes." Joker pointed the gun at Batman, and Batman thought it was time to strike. He locked eyes on the barrel to see where it was pointing at, and it was pointing directly at Batman's chest. The symbol was the thickest part of the suit's armor to protect his heart and chest, so he knew he would be safe. It would hurt tremendously, but he knew he could handle it.

"Then, why does your truth matter, Batman? If people spin you in a way, all you are is a man who gets his kicks breaking the bones of criminals! No justice has even happened since you've been here. All you've done is fail, I have no clue how you can live with the guilt. You haven't done a single thing good for Gotham in the two months you've been here."

Batman stopped in his place, weighing the validity of what the Joker had said. Previously, he would have agreed. Batman hadn't really succeeded in any way in his first two months besides beating the criminals that were in his way. His only success was saving the little girl from the Mad Hatter, but even then that instance created the man before him. That was his only saving grace of the past two months. Then, like a whisper in a crowd of screaming people, he heard the voice of Selina Kyle. An ordinary citizen who claimed that Batman was doing real good for Gotham. That voice calmed him, and he looked Joker in the eyes as he delivered his response.

"You might be right… But if I stop you, all of my failures will be amended." Joker laughed, and waved the gun in the air, using the barrel as if he was pointing his own finger at his chest.

"Me? What will stopping me prove to anyone other than yourself? All I've done is show how weak minded other people are. You and me, Batman, we're different. We get people to believe in us, when actually we're not doing anything but just poking holes in some Styrofoam like we used to do as kids. We're just looking between the lines and dots, because we're different. This little game we've been playing is just too fun, no one else will understand it. You think stopping me will make yourself feel better?.. Maybe, maybe, but I beg to differ." Joker pointed the gun back at Batman, grinning as he did so. "Without me, what else is there? I've caused all the things you've done the past two months. Without me, there won't be a need for you anymore." Batman took a deep breath, and curled his brow as he loosened the fist he had tightly formed.

"There will always be a need for me, Joker. I'm just getting started here." Joker laughed at the response, and his laughs bounced off the walls. Hearing them as he made his way throughout the building, Gordon locked in on the laughter and made his way towards it. He ran up to the top floor, and turned the corner as he saw the two men. He was behind Batman, and he saw the Joker pointing the gun at him. He quickly hid behind the corner, his heart rate blaring almost noticeably through his police uniform. Like a mouse, he crept to the opposite wall and hugged it as he made his way closer to the scene. He was sweating profusely as sweat made its way around the thick black rimmed glasses he wore, dripping on the ground beneath him. He listened to the laughter of Joker continue, and he turned the corner to look at him.

Gordon was shaking, but he knew what had to be done. He knew Batman needed his help, but he didn't know how. All he knew was that between the two of them, they had the Joker outnumbered. He nodded his head as he decided on what he was going to do. It could have been incredibly foolish if the Joker acted a certain way, but he was willing to chance it. It was all he could do. If he tried to make his way around the building to get the flank on Joker, by the time he did he could have lost his chance. Either the Batman or the little girl could be dead. Gordon shook his head as he mustered the strength and courage to act.

Gordon turned the corner, pointing his Sig Sauer P226 at the Joker in the most stereotypical cop making a bust pose.

"FREEZE!" Shouted Gordon, but the Joker immediately acted. The Joker pulled the trigger at the mere movement of anyone else, and he shot Gordon through the shoulder. Batman looked back in incredulity at the sight of Gordon being shot. Immediately, Gordon fell to the ground motionless. Joker laughed at the sight of the dead cop, and closed his eyes. He laughed so intensely, he let go of Anna and brought his hands to his stomach.

Pure, unadulterated rage formed in Batman's chest, and he lunged himself at the Joker. With force and fury, Batman tackled Joker through the wooden rails of the stairs, falling to the floor below. Batman landed on his feet, but Joker landed on his side. Batman was seeing black as he grabbed the collar of Joker, punching him repeatedly.

Not him… Not Gordon. Thought Batman as he pummeled Joker. He picked him up and threw Joker into the next room, breaking the door and the walls that connected to it. Joker rolled into the room, and when he opened his eyes, he stared at the children that looked in terror. Joker was upside down staring at the kids, and he laughed at the perception he had of them.

"Hi there, kids! Enjoy the show!" Said Joker as Batman entered the room, beating Joker senselessly. The kids looked in horror at the lashing that was occurring in front of their very eyes. Batman was punching, kicking, headbutting, slapping and stomping Joker repeatedly. Blood sprang from the Joker's face like a fountain, and Batman's black suit was becoming covered in blood. Children began to scream and exit the room but Batman continued pounding the Joker.

I trusted him… he trusted me. Is that what this is? Is that what the result of trusting me is? Death? Is that it? Batman's thoughts were becoming incoherent after each and every punch, but he didn't stop. He continued with horrifying intentions as he beat the Joker maliciously. Joker's laugh could be heard for what felt like miles, as he scream-laughed to the point where his throat started to bleed. Blood formed a puddle in the back of Joker's throat, causing him to have trouble breathing. Batman kicked him so he could be on his side, and the blood funneled out.

I could keep going and he'd be dead in minutes. I could throw him off the roof and the fall would break his spine. I could take a Batarang and put it in his throat. I could take my boot and stomp his brainstem, it'd be over just like that. No one else would have to get hurt. Joker crawled away from Batman, his face severely disfigured. With a lisp, he spoke because his front teeth were gone.

"See how great it feels, Batman? Completely letting go, without a thought in the world, it's exhilarating, isn't it? Hahaha… I knew we were more similar than different." Batman breathed heavily, exhausted at the beating he was giving the Joker. Blood dripped from his fists, body and face as he looked at him intently. He had every intention to kill him, and he stepped forward to continue the mauling. Bruce's heart could be heard just from him alone as adrenaline took over every part of his body.

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP

His body was overcome with rage and sheer anger, and he only saw red. He made his way towards Joker, as he laughed.

"Yes, do it! C'mon, I know you want to!" Joker exclaimed with joy and delight as Batman made his way towards him with an absolute menacing, frightening aura. The floorboards creaked as Batman approached him, and the silent room was preparing itself for the atrocities it was about to witness. Orphans and children alike who remained watched in horror at the Bat-Man creature in action, horrified with what they saw.

Batman's vision was filled with black spots, and his entire body pulsated. The only thing he wanted was to kill Joker, and he was set on doing it. Through the black spots, however, he saw a streak of blonde hair under his eyesight run towards him. It was the little girl who hugged his leg, crying into his body.

"Please!.. Please stop. Please don't kill him… I don't care if he isn't my daddy anymore, just please… Stop hurting him." Batman remained shaking and vibrating in his anger, and as he looked down at the little girl, the black spots started to fade. He looked her in her blue eyes and his heart rate started to decline. Anna's presence calmed him, setting him back to normal bit by bit as seconds passed. Batman then looked at his fists that were cascaded and painted with blood, and he closed his eyes. He looked over at the beaten face of the Joker, struggling to breathe and stay conscious and shook his head in shame. Then, in disgust, he looked over at the children who watched the entire thing. Some had peed their pants, some were sobbing and staring at Batman with terror and angst ridden across their face. Batman couldn't bear to look at them any longer, and he looked away back towards Joker.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke finally. "It's over, Joker. You lost." Joker laughed as he shuffled in pain on the ground, turning himself towards Batman.

"You were so close… Why did you stop? Dammit, why did you stop?" Batman swallowed, and looked out the window of the orphanage.

"I will never be like you. You want me to kill you, and I won't." Joker giggled at the comment, smiling at Batman despite his lack of front teeth.

"Then what was all that just now? Those were the fists of someone ready to kill. Don't tell me it's cause she was here? If that's the case, I'll just do what I came here to do initially." From his sleeve, he retracted a small snub nose revolver, pointing it at the little girl. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Joker yelled out as he laughed as well. "LIKE IT OR NOT, YOU'RE GONNA KILL ME BATMAN!" Joker pointed the gun at the little girl, and Batman's eyes widened.

"No!" Batman lunged to cover the little girl from harm, but the gun went off far too quickly. He still jumped in front of the little girl, shielding her. He saw nothing as he looked into the black tunnel he had formed with his body and cape around Anna. He knew for certain that the gun had gone off, and he was horrified to look at the child in his arms. His heart raced; his sweat profusely grew; he began to shake. Slowly leaning back to look at the girl, he heard the Joker's laughter grow and grow. Batman's eyes were slowly being able to see, and he saw the girl burrowed into his body, hugging him tightly. He looked her up and down, and there was no blood that was from her. Quickly he turned around, and then he saw it: The Joker laughing holding his bloodied hand, twirling on the ground as he writhed in pain. Batman looked to the right, and leaned against the corner, bloodied and sweating, was Officer Jim Gordon, grabbing his bullet wound on his left shoulder. Batman's heart shrieked in delight, looking at the man he viewed as an ally, or perhaps something even more than that.

"That was a tough freakin' shot with one arm," said Gordon almost out of breath. Batman exhaled in a form of relief, standing up and turning towards the Joker. The gunshot made the remaining children run out of the room, and the only ones left in the room were Anna, Batman, Gordon and the Joker. Batman advanced towards Joker, towering over him as his shadow crept over the body of Joker who continued his laughter with his shot hand increasing in blood.

"It's over… That's enough." Joker laughed and turned towards Batman on the ground, looking up from him on the ground.

"Oh, Batsy… You should know by now I'm a clown of many tricks." Joker reached into his suit , grabbing a row of grenades. Laughing as he did so, he pulled the string that removed all the pins, and threw it in the middle of the room. Batman's eyes widened as he ran towards Anna, grabbing her and covering her entirely. Gordon lunged out of the room and Joker simply laughed at the carnage and chaos that was forming. Seconds passed and the belt of grenades exploded, imploding the whole east wing of the Pinkney Orphanage. The explosion caused Batman who held Anna tightly to fly out of the building, but he didn't let go of Anna. His grip simply tightened, but his suit was severely damaged. His cowl was ripped in half as he flew in the air, and his cape was torn to shreds, barely even being passable as a cape. Half his face was revealed because of the explosion, and as he landed on the ground, his face grated on the hard pavement of the ground, but still, he did not let go of Anna. She was kept safe, shielded from the explosion that leveled half of the orphanage. Gordon was able to get away unscathed as he was able to get to a portion of the building, with simply milliseconds to spare, that was undamaged. Joker was flung out of the building, laughing as he did so and landed about 40 feet away, bloodied and misguided.

In a dreary state, Batman got up from the ground, and looked at Anna who held him tightly. The left side of his cowl was completely gone, and blood was stuck in his eye. He realized that his cowl was damaged when blood was there, and he wiped it out. He widened his eyes because he knew if people saw him, they'd recognize him as Bruce Wayne. Thinking quickly, he made Anna let go of him.

"Please, don't leave me… Please!.." Anna said as she put her head into Batman's chest, sobbing in the cavern of his solar plexus. Batman put his hand on her back, smiling as he did so.

"It's okay… You were very brave. Everything's alright now. You're safe." Anna held Batman even more tightly, crying even more. Batman felt the tears seep through his suit, and his heavy heart cried. He didn't want to see her like that, so he continued comforting her. Patting her back, running his fingers through her hair, everything of the sort.

"Let it all out… It's okay." After about a minute, Batman tried to get up once again as he heard the police sirens and helicopters approach the scene. He knew he needed to make sure the Joker didn't get away, even though he knew he could hardly move. Anna, still crying, let Batman get up this time, and watched as he struggled to stand. His face was bloodied, so you couldn't really make out his facial structure. All she could see was his sapphire blue eyes shining in the moonlight and fiery blaze of the building, and she looked in awe. His jet black hair was matted cause of the blood, but she could tell he was quite handsome. His appearance calmed her, and she listened to his instructions.

"Just wait here… It'll be okay." Anna stood still as Batman gradually made his way towards Joker. Joker was on the ground, motionless as Batman approached him. As Batman arrived, Joker wasn't moving. He continued to stare at him, but when he noticed he wasn't moving yet saw him breathing, though he breathed slowly, he turned away.

As Batman walked away, Joker, almost in a whisper, spoke under his breath.

"I-... I wanted more out of this, y'know." Joker's tone was different. It was like for the briefest moment, even for just a sentence, the voice Batman heard two months prior could be heard. Batman's heart ached, and he turned to where only his cowl was visible to Joker.

"Out of what?.." Asked Batman, staring at Joker as he struggled to speak.

"Oh, I dunno… Life, I suppose." Batman raised his eyebrows, and exhaled. He wondered what exactly he did want out of life, and he asked with a heavy heart his next question as the conversation continued.

"What did you want?" Joker chuckled, but it sounded far more human and sane. It was like anyone would do when they found something at least humorous.

"I… I don't know… I wanted to escape this world that treated me so harshly. I couldn't take it anymore. Being made fun of and looked down upon… Constantly, like it was clockwork, failing over and over… It was exhausting." Joker swallowed as he tilted his head towards Batman, and blood funneled out of his mouth. "I wanted to help people, and I wanted a better life for her… That's why I went with Jervis. My dream was always to… help people. Jervis was so inspiring, I just couldn't resist. I trusted him, and I let him go down that path that I eventually went down as well… The device changed me, but I'm not sure… if it changed me as severely… as I made it out to be… Maybe it was right in front of me the entire time, and all I needed was a push. My dreams changed, or were severely warped. I can't tell the difference anymore. Everything… seems so blurry now." Joker chuckled as he leaned back down onto the ground, losing the strength to even prop himself up.

Batman looked in deep respite and sorrow at the shell of a man in front of him. He swallowed as he geared up the thoughts he wanted to respond with.

"I can't… I can't stop people from dreaming. That's not who I am, nor will it ever be. Batman started with a dream of helping people as well. So in that regard, maybe we are similar." Batman swallowed, continuing his response in a more stern manner. "Even if people's dreams are vile and deplorable, I can't stop people with free will from thinking that way. It's when they enact those dreams on innocents when I will always be there, protecting the people of this city. Whether they're blurry, incoherent or not, if your dreams come at the expense of other people, I will always be there to stop you. I will be the reason why the criminals second guess themselves." Batman swallowed, and he turned towards the Joker. Joker stared at Batman intently, though his vision blurred. As Batman turned, revealing half his face to Joker, Joker saw the shining sapphire eyes that resided in the skull of Batman. They were no longer floating white orbs, they were real eyes. Even in his blurred vision, he could see the bright blue eyes of Bruce Wayne. He couldn't tell it was Bruce Wayne, no, but he could see his blue eyes. "But I'm truly sorry, Joker, that you're like this…"

Joker giggled as he fixated on the blue eyes that shone in the moonlight and orange hue of the fire in the foreground. Sirens and helicopters approached closer by the second, and Batman geared up to walk away. As he took his step to walk away, Joker commented finally.

"Blue… Blue eyes, just like hers." Joker smiled as a tear fell from his eye as he remembered his dead wife Elaine. His smile creaked open slowly, making his face look terrifying. The tears mixed with the blood, and he leaned back and stared at the night sky. The blaring of sirens increased and the red and blue lights simply came more and more apparent in his peripheral vision. As he smiled, he spoke through his moment of respite. "In all my life, I have never felt more alive than when I look into those eyes."

Joker started to laugh, and Batman looked back, seeing the Joker giggle and chuckle on the ground. Batman looked away painfully, and called for the Batmobile. He entered it and drove away, leaving the Joker for the police. The man on the ground couldn't stop laughing, but it was hard to tell if it was Joker alone or Clint Daymond finally joining him. Though there really wasn't a difference between the two anymore.