Barbara pulled herself into her wheelchair and raced towards the house. She knew she had very little time.
Once in the kitchen she first lowered the lights and then began to rummage through the drawers. She recalled her dad keeping a spare cell phone in the kitchen – it had to be in there somewhere. By now she reckoned the Joker would have checked the front of the house and now be combing the alleyways, looking for her hidden, frightened figure.
She pulled out plates, cutlery, an assortment of mismatched gadgets as well as a variety of coffee stained police files. Dad, why so disorganized these days?
Footsteps.
"Nana Joker on the phone – seems to think it's time for a bath!'"
She spun her chair to face her attacker. Her fear was beginning to turn into pure frustration.
The Joker was leaning against the doorframe, a small cell phone grasped between his white bony fingers.
"Damn you Joker!" she growled.
***
He covered his eyes in mock fright. "Oooh," he declared, "Joker's in for it now!" He moved towards her, rolling up his purple sleeves. "It's been raining out there and there were no marks in the alley – a cripple like you would be bound to create an obvious trail in the mud – good try, but no banana cake for you, my little Miss Gordon!" She tried to back up, away from the evil beast, but found herself trapped against one of her father's wooden kitchen cupboards. Joker continued his rant, getting more excited by the second. "A trick I learned from Batsy, always look for clues!"
"Get out of here Joker! I've had enough of you!" Barbara replied grimly. "The joke's over."
"Oh no," he bellowed in return, "It's only just beginning!" He lunged forward. "I've taken a good deal of time off my vacation to be here with you and you can darn tooting well die when you are told to!"
In a final desperate attempt, she leapt forward out of her chair, aiming for the interior door but he caught her by the hair. With a yelp, she was dragged up kicking and screaming onto the kitchen table. She watched with horror as he ploughed through the table drawer with one hand, holding her firmly by the neck with the other. Probably searching for a knife, she thought.
"I'll stop that squirming on way or another!" he yelled. "No eagle eyed Ken to save this little broken Barbie doll!"
This was her last chance and she knew it. She rolled her body managing to swing her arm upwards and across, catching the madman in the groin. Despite her incapacity, she would never forget her training. Considering she was pinned by her neck, there was a great deal of energy and hatred behind the blow.
The Joker gasped, then whimpered. She saw tears spouting from his eyes and watched as he tripped up backwards.
"Now that's amusing!" She taunted. Her only chance was to anger him, get him to lose control. Only then might she be then able to turn the tables. Just one opening and she would get him. Her hand fumbled low into the table cutlery draw. She felt for, and then grasped a knife handle. She continued her goad the monster, hoping to distract him from what her real motivations. "I've always thought that clowns made really poor comedians, but you've proved me wrong. Clowns are funny – especially the really bad ones!"
Incensed the Joker let out a scream of anger. "There can only be one joker here!" he snarled and leapt forward.
The batarang hit him straight across the jaw shattering a tooth. "Ow!" he ejaculated.
The shadow drifted across the room shattering the light bulb and plunging the dimly lit kitchen into total darkness.
"There can be only Joker - it's just a matter of which it will be!" The Joker tried to look down at his huge mouth and failed miserably in the attempt. His mouth certainly hadn't said that - although it very much sounded like it did.
A flash of black cape and a fist made connection with his enormous chin.
"Out with the old – in with the new!" screamed the voice. Blood sprayed across the room and the clown prince collided with Barbara's vacant wheelchair. He finally caught a glimpse of his new attacker.
He gasped.
Barbara gasped.
The sight was grotesque.
Standing proudly, if unsteadily, was Gotham's Dark Knight. His outfit was torn, stained with dirt. His body seem to have been punctured; he was covered with tiny bleeding marks. The cause of this mass affliction was made clear from the clusters of tiny needles that continued to litter his frame. His cape hung in ribbons, frayed and shredded. What Barbara found most abhorrent was that all too familiar smile – a smile virtually identical to her attacker's.
The Batman giggled as he took another swing at the Joker.
The Joker snarled. "Not funny Bat-Bore," he pulled out fragments of broken tooth from his lip, "However I'd rather not lose another tooth." He declared as he fumbled in his jacket. He pulled out some handcuffs. "So shall we dispense with the standard parlay and down to the cuffing? This night has gone rapidly down hill for this party boy!"
Batman waggled a finger. "Uh uh. You're not listening. We have a new Joker in town and Gotham isn't bigger enough for two!"
The Joker then received another knee to the groin – the second in the space of minutes. He fell to the floor paralysed.
Barbara had remained silent for too long. Part of her welcomed the pain the Joker was being dealt but the other part was revolted by the brutality of it all. Sometimes she wanted the Joker to die. Sometimes. In the end, she had been brought up better than to truly want that.
"Batman!" Barbara instructed sternly. "That will do!"
He ignored her, and issued another kick to the Joker's abdomen. Something was very wrong.
"Batman!"
He swung round to face her, letting out one final fluid kick to the Joker's face in the process. The clown's neck swung back and reverberated against the wall. He slid down onto the floor unconscious.
"You!" growled Batman. "Who asked you?"
Barbara was lost for words – this was all so wrong. What had happened? "Bruce!"
"No Brucie – only new, improved Joker!" He cackled. "All you wanted from the original and a lot, lot more!" He observed Barbara's lack of excitement with vague disappointment. "Batsy needed the help of someone a little doo-lally and so he created me to keep his loopy noggin intact!"
"Good lord," whispered Barbara as she got up from the table. "Did he do this to you?"
"Sympathy?" sneered the Batman. "Dear me, you wannabe do-gooders are all as bad as each other! In fact you are the worst!" Leaping forward he pinned her down to the table. "I mean, who asked you to join in the game? Bruce certainly didn't. Did anyone ask? Did anyone ask for gender equality in the bat belfry? Can I hear anyone's voice asking?" He placed his hand to his ear, sarcastically. "Nope! No one! You just came along in your girly suit and your girly cowl – looking for a bit of fun!" The cowled face contoured with insane anger. "Well look where your exciting adventure got you! Look at the pain you have suffered! Look at the pain Bruce suffered!"
"Bruce…" she shivered. Did he truly believe this?
"The joke is upon you dear!" he declared nonchalantly, "You see, we Joker's stick together and quite frankly I'm tempted to finish off what he started!"
" Bruce! What the hell's wrong with you?"
"There is no Bruce!" Batman screamed. "Only Joker!"
***
"Now I didn't expect this!" Grumbled the Joker, pulling against the sharp batarangs that pinned him to the wall by his shoulders. His hands were bound. "This wasn't in the script!"
Barbara was hung and cuffed in the same respect as her counterpart. They were back in the dining area. The room was pitched in shadows. She had lost track of the time.
This wasn't turning out to be her night. She felt drained. Fear had long given up and gone home. She just wanted this to be over – one way or another.
"This is your doing!" She spat at her fellow captive.
"Ironic isn't it?" the Joker shrugged. "Oh, well, I suppose I finally got a laugh out of him – I should be proud of that!" His grin widened. "Yes! Score one for Joker!"
One of the shadows shifted. "So who's first?" it asked.
"Me!" screamed the Joker. "No, I mean her!"
"I think her too."
Barbara froze. What a way to go. Killed by her mentor who now believed he was his arch nemsis. Killed in, some ways, by the Joker after all yet the real Joker would never know. It was like some sort of inside joke.
"Not going to cry out Barbara?" demanded Batman. "Defiant to the last?" Did she detect a hint of pride in that last remark?
Who was she to cry out to?
J'onn?
She tried constantly to contact him that night, but then her night had been just a whole barrel of misfortune. She'd given up hope.
Yet surely she was allowed one lucky break?
A batarang sliced into the wall centimetres from her head. A lucky miss, or was their intent not to kill? Was Bruce still in there somewhere?
"Missed." Batman said flatly.
J'onn..
Fortune smiles when you least expect it and Barbara genuinely did not expect a reply.
"My apologies," came the ghostly voice, "the League has been caught in a temporal flux. We are exhauste-" She cut him off.
"I need him now!" she fired back mentally.
Momentary silence followed, enough to fill the space between breaths yet also enough to fill two lifetimes. A different voice answered, brusquely.
"Perhaps if Batman had denied my request for assistance with a little more courtesy than simply 'I'm out', I maybe inclined to sort out his mess-"
"I don't have time for your petty disputes!" screamed Barbara mentally. She had enough of this. This was the last chance for all of them. She sent conjured up a mental image just as Batman's hands gripped her throat.
"You're communicating with the Manky Martian!" he breathed. "I can tell! I know all that Batsy knows!"
"The Martian?" The real Joker enquired. His question was answered in the form of Batman's fist, striking him out for the second time. Batman's focus was Barbara.
"You've told them!" he muttered with a slight hint of panic. "He'll be on his way!"
"I'm on my way," a voice tickled her head, "Please hold on!" She could feel Batman's fingers snake around her throat. It would take seconds for him to get here. It would take seconds for Batman to end her life.
"You can't do it." She said coldly. "You can't kill me."
Batman backed off.
Did she see a glimmer of sanity emerge from beneath the mask?
The grin, to her disappointment returned – as did the voice.
"Maybe Brucie won't let me kill you directly, but indirectly he has far less influence – silly old codger!" His face lit up with a new idea "I don't think I want to meet our soon-to-be-gate crasher right at moment – let's send him a gift!"
He released three capsules from his belt across the room. As soon as the first one hit the wall it exploded sending debris and waste flying in all direction.
The house began to collapse.
***
He launched off the lunar surface and down towards the planet below.
How could he be so aloof? How could he have been so petty? Those extra seconds he lost making some infantile point could have cost Oracle and Batman their lives. The problem with being so fast, every second becomes more valuable.
He could put it down his behaviour to the mission the League had been called out on, but that wasn't Clark. He took full responsibility of his actions, regardless of the endeavours. The fact they had only just made it out alive was no excuse. He'd been so angry with Bruce when he had refused to come along. Clearly he had something on his mind more important than saving the world – most likely Gotham. That city took precedence over everything.
What has that city done to you now, Bruce?
This wasn't the way it could end.
It shouldn't end this way.
His mind whispered alien thoughts. "Clark, there has been an explosion. I've lost contact."
"Thanks J'onn. Inform Nightwing what's happened. I think he has a right to know."
He mustered extra speed.
My god Bruce, what have you done this time?
He hit the atmosphere and gathered his wits. He had no idea what to expect.
Seconds past.
***
She was bleeding; a piece of debris has kissed her forehead on its way past. She yanked her shoulders away from the batarangs that fixed her to the wall. She suddenly realised the bonds that had imprisoned her were now undone. Was it Bruce who had done that? Was Bruce fighting against his new persona?
She pulled herself off the wall and fell to the floor. The second bomb exploded spitting debris everywhere. She protected her face with her arm as she was covered in plaster and pieces of. A picture of herself and her father cascaded off the wall and shattered on the floor. Splits started to caress the ceiling. The Joker had awoken and was dislodging himself from the wall with the strength of his shoulders. He had removed his bonds. He fell to the floor beside her.
"I'm out of here toots!" he declared as he pulled himself to his feet.
The third of Batman's capsules ignited taking out the facing wall, showering her with more plaster.
Barbara looked up at the ceiling it. It was about to collapse and the Joker had managed to disappear.
Without her chair she was near to helpless in this explosive environment. A few years ago it would have been two short leaps and a cartwheel to escape this death.
Alone, she faced her fate with resolve. Damn you Joker, at least you won't get me.
That was when the ceiling exploded with colours.
Blue.
Red.
She saw a vague shape for the briefest moment before the colours lit the path between her and the ceiling. It then carried her upwards like she was caught in a current of watery hues. The ceilings and walls exploded around her body until she could finally see the night sky.
The warm tinted light dropped her down onto the grass, the colours before her combined into physical form. Finally, Barbara's eyes caught up with the object they had been so desperately trying to catch - an object that moved far faster than a speeding bullet.
The house began to collapse.
Good riddance, she thought. All the memories of this night would no longer have a physical presence to linger in.
Then a thought struck her.
That was her fathers house she had just destroyed.
She began to giggle uncontrollably.
Superman leant down towards her just as she passed out.
***
With a mixture of awe and wonder the Batman strolled into the batcave. Part of him felt as familiar to this place as a mother is to her child. The other part, the manifestation of the Joker, the mental reconstruction of insanity to fight a mind-altering toxin, felt victorious. Not only did he have the Batman, but all his toys. He had managed to steal all from Bruce Wayne - his mission, his life – even his identity.
He chuckled to himself. In fact, the idiot had offered it to him on a platter.
"Thank you Batbore!" He exclaimed, sitting down at the gigantic computer. He then began spinning the chair frantically, chortling to himself. The noise of his laughter echoed throughout the hollow chambers and the cave replied with the sound of unsettled bats screeching, rebuking their changed master.
He began taping spryly at the keyboard. "Let's see what we mischief we can get up to here!" he chuckled to himself from underneath the cowl. "Could I have a better toy than this?"
The elevator doors to the mansion above opened. Batman took in the sounds and deduced the occupant before carrying on with his data search.
She was still in the same clothes - her best clothes – now ruined by a mix of blood, sweat and dirt.
"Brucie can't hear you." Sung the Batman as he merrily continued to tap away at the console.
Barbara wheeled cautiously closer. The cave was virtually pitch black aside from the ghostly glow of the computer screens.
"Where's our blue and red boy scout?" Batman asked. "I do hope he hasn't blown you out on your first date."
Barbara edged closer still. "He's not here. Busy chasing the real Joker back to Arkham." She shrugged. "Besides, I may have misled him a little to where your whereabouts might be."
Batman swung round. "Now, that was thoughtful of you!" he grinned, "and here I was thinking you had a deathwish or something! You think you have a better chance at saving Bruce than he? He could stop me. You can't"
Barbara edged closer, the light from the monitors washing against her clear complexion. "Just because I'm crippled doesn't mean I don't know how to defend myself anymore," she told him grimly. "I want to save Bruce, you might not give Clark that luxury."
"You against me? The big league?" Batman sneered swinging to face her, "Don't make me laugh!"
"You're not the big league," Barbara retorted. "Bruce functions on order – everything he does is controlled and systematic. Life has to be methodical and precise. There can be no errors, no risks. No chance to threaten life. You can't work like that! You are not half the man he is!" She wheeled closer still. "In fact, I'm willing to bet that mind of his is such a mess even I could take you on," she grinned wickedly, "Even in this chair."
Her hands gripped her chair's wheels tightly. Her muscles were tense. This was an awful risk.
Batman's eyes remained fixed on Barbara as he caught Dick's batarang.
"Nice try, my little Bat Groupie!" he cackled at Barbara, drowning himself in the sudden look of shock. Relishing the rapid spread of horror that crawled across her face.
"I can smell fear," he said deliciously edging closer to her. "I can smell yours. You're scared. Still the little child playing the big boys games." Barbara could feel herself blushing. "You fear me – and so you should!" With a flick of the wrist, he swung the batarang back on the precise trajectory it had initially travelled upon. It was engulfed by the shadows and replaced by a shape rolling outwards and towards Batman.
With one swift instinctive movement, Batman swung his leg up and kicked at Barbara's chair. Caught of guard it took her by surprise. It rolled back and tipped knocking her across the floor and almost over the edge of the walkway. She cursed herself – Bruce always had a way of intimidating her – making her feel like a little girl again. She was fighting two monsters.
Meanwhile, the shadowy figure took an acrobatic leap that neatly took him off his intended course and placed him between the Batman and Barbara.
Dick Grayson gave Batman an aching glance. "Bruce, what happened?"
"What happened?" snarled the Batman the grin fading from his face, "You tell me! You're the one who left me!" He took a swing at Dick and missed. Dick could feel the urge to go for his gun, but fought it – this was no place for a cop, and there was no time for Nightwing. Dick Grayson, the role that bound his night to his day, was all that stood before the frantic vigilante.
Batman continued his insane ranting his Joker-esque tones getting higher. "You're the one who couldn't hack being on the team!" Dick dodged another swing. "You could have been my legacy! You could have been this city's future!" Dick backed away, wary of Batman's lightening fast reflexes. Thankfully, the fit of rage consuming hem was interfering with his usual precision. Bruce's attacks were too sloppy to actually make contact.
"You tell me what happened!" Batman's advances became ever more violent. "Don't like my methods?" screamed the Dark Knight. Dick felt he was running out of space, he knew the layout of the cave – he new what he was about to collide with if he didn't move. With a scream, Batman swung his fist with full force at his ex partner. Dick had more than enough experience to avoid the blow and duck to the side. "Look in the mirror Grayson!" yelled his attacker, his hand ploughing straight through the glass cabinet behind Dick, "You can't escape the legacy of-"
His eyes became transfixed on the cabinet's damaged contents. He paused, the manic rage warping into tortured confusion.
"Robin?"
High up, the bats began to sing in unison.
And then silence.
Barbara felt a pair of familiar hands lift her back into her chair, something she would normally preferred to do herself, but tonight, she needed to be looked after and she knew he would look take care of her. Dick watched his ex-partner cautiously from her side. Batman remained still, his fist caught in the case's contents. Barbara watched her lover nervously. He noticed her gaze and placed a hand on her shoulder tightly. She should have never pushed him away tonight. She knew now that's what she had done – tried to protect him from her pain. She couldn't protect him from her past anymore than she could protect him from this.
The blood oozed through Bruce's gloves, matching the colour of the garment that was tightly ensnared in his grip. Bruce's mouth trembled as he spoke. The voice was an uncomfortable mix of his normal timbre and that of the mimic Joker's.
"I killed you," he declared softly.
Dick shifted uncomfortably. "Go and get Alfred," he whispered to Barbara.
Clutching the pieces of red and yellow cloth closely to his chest, Batman dropped to the floor.
"Why not call Alfred from here?" Barbara protested. She could see Dick's resolve so she tried a more honest approach. "I don't think I should be leaving you."
Dick squeezed her shoulder. "Please, go and get Alfred," he asked firmly.
She nodded numbly, understanding the reason for his request. As she headed back to the elevator, she glanced over her shoulder as Dick gently knelt down and placed an arm around the broken man.
As the lift doors shut, she listened to the sound of gentle sobbing tear through her heart.
Once in the kitchen she first lowered the lights and then began to rummage through the drawers. She recalled her dad keeping a spare cell phone in the kitchen – it had to be in there somewhere. By now she reckoned the Joker would have checked the front of the house and now be combing the alleyways, looking for her hidden, frightened figure.
She pulled out plates, cutlery, an assortment of mismatched gadgets as well as a variety of coffee stained police files. Dad, why so disorganized these days?
Footsteps.
"Nana Joker on the phone – seems to think it's time for a bath!'"
She spun her chair to face her attacker. Her fear was beginning to turn into pure frustration.
The Joker was leaning against the doorframe, a small cell phone grasped between his white bony fingers.
"Damn you Joker!" she growled.
***
He covered his eyes in mock fright. "Oooh," he declared, "Joker's in for it now!" He moved towards her, rolling up his purple sleeves. "It's been raining out there and there were no marks in the alley – a cripple like you would be bound to create an obvious trail in the mud – good try, but no banana cake for you, my little Miss Gordon!" She tried to back up, away from the evil beast, but found herself trapped against one of her father's wooden kitchen cupboards. Joker continued his rant, getting more excited by the second. "A trick I learned from Batsy, always look for clues!"
"Get out of here Joker! I've had enough of you!" Barbara replied grimly. "The joke's over."
"Oh no," he bellowed in return, "It's only just beginning!" He lunged forward. "I've taken a good deal of time off my vacation to be here with you and you can darn tooting well die when you are told to!"
In a final desperate attempt, she leapt forward out of her chair, aiming for the interior door but he caught her by the hair. With a yelp, she was dragged up kicking and screaming onto the kitchen table. She watched with horror as he ploughed through the table drawer with one hand, holding her firmly by the neck with the other. Probably searching for a knife, she thought.
"I'll stop that squirming on way or another!" he yelled. "No eagle eyed Ken to save this little broken Barbie doll!"
This was her last chance and she knew it. She rolled her body managing to swing her arm upwards and across, catching the madman in the groin. Despite her incapacity, she would never forget her training. Considering she was pinned by her neck, there was a great deal of energy and hatred behind the blow.
The Joker gasped, then whimpered. She saw tears spouting from his eyes and watched as he tripped up backwards.
"Now that's amusing!" She taunted. Her only chance was to anger him, get him to lose control. Only then might she be then able to turn the tables. Just one opening and she would get him. Her hand fumbled low into the table cutlery draw. She felt for, and then grasped a knife handle. She continued her goad the monster, hoping to distract him from what her real motivations. "I've always thought that clowns made really poor comedians, but you've proved me wrong. Clowns are funny – especially the really bad ones!"
Incensed the Joker let out a scream of anger. "There can only be one joker here!" he snarled and leapt forward.
The batarang hit him straight across the jaw shattering a tooth. "Ow!" he ejaculated.
The shadow drifted across the room shattering the light bulb and plunging the dimly lit kitchen into total darkness.
"There can be only Joker - it's just a matter of which it will be!" The Joker tried to look down at his huge mouth and failed miserably in the attempt. His mouth certainly hadn't said that - although it very much sounded like it did.
A flash of black cape and a fist made connection with his enormous chin.
"Out with the old – in with the new!" screamed the voice. Blood sprayed across the room and the clown prince collided with Barbara's vacant wheelchair. He finally caught a glimpse of his new attacker.
He gasped.
Barbara gasped.
The sight was grotesque.
Standing proudly, if unsteadily, was Gotham's Dark Knight. His outfit was torn, stained with dirt. His body seem to have been punctured; he was covered with tiny bleeding marks. The cause of this mass affliction was made clear from the clusters of tiny needles that continued to litter his frame. His cape hung in ribbons, frayed and shredded. What Barbara found most abhorrent was that all too familiar smile – a smile virtually identical to her attacker's.
The Batman giggled as he took another swing at the Joker.
The Joker snarled. "Not funny Bat-Bore," he pulled out fragments of broken tooth from his lip, "However I'd rather not lose another tooth." He declared as he fumbled in his jacket. He pulled out some handcuffs. "So shall we dispense with the standard parlay and down to the cuffing? This night has gone rapidly down hill for this party boy!"
Batman waggled a finger. "Uh uh. You're not listening. We have a new Joker in town and Gotham isn't bigger enough for two!"
The Joker then received another knee to the groin – the second in the space of minutes. He fell to the floor paralysed.
Barbara had remained silent for too long. Part of her welcomed the pain the Joker was being dealt but the other part was revolted by the brutality of it all. Sometimes she wanted the Joker to die. Sometimes. In the end, she had been brought up better than to truly want that.
"Batman!" Barbara instructed sternly. "That will do!"
He ignored her, and issued another kick to the Joker's abdomen. Something was very wrong.
"Batman!"
He swung round to face her, letting out one final fluid kick to the Joker's face in the process. The clown's neck swung back and reverberated against the wall. He slid down onto the floor unconscious.
"You!" growled Batman. "Who asked you?"
Barbara was lost for words – this was all so wrong. What had happened? "Bruce!"
"No Brucie – only new, improved Joker!" He cackled. "All you wanted from the original and a lot, lot more!" He observed Barbara's lack of excitement with vague disappointment. "Batsy needed the help of someone a little doo-lally and so he created me to keep his loopy noggin intact!"
"Good lord," whispered Barbara as she got up from the table. "Did he do this to you?"
"Sympathy?" sneered the Batman. "Dear me, you wannabe do-gooders are all as bad as each other! In fact you are the worst!" Leaping forward he pinned her down to the table. "I mean, who asked you to join in the game? Bruce certainly didn't. Did anyone ask? Did anyone ask for gender equality in the bat belfry? Can I hear anyone's voice asking?" He placed his hand to his ear, sarcastically. "Nope! No one! You just came along in your girly suit and your girly cowl – looking for a bit of fun!" The cowled face contoured with insane anger. "Well look where your exciting adventure got you! Look at the pain you have suffered! Look at the pain Bruce suffered!"
"Bruce…" she shivered. Did he truly believe this?
"The joke is upon you dear!" he declared nonchalantly, "You see, we Joker's stick together and quite frankly I'm tempted to finish off what he started!"
" Bruce! What the hell's wrong with you?"
"There is no Bruce!" Batman screamed. "Only Joker!"
***
"Now I didn't expect this!" Grumbled the Joker, pulling against the sharp batarangs that pinned him to the wall by his shoulders. His hands were bound. "This wasn't in the script!"
Barbara was hung and cuffed in the same respect as her counterpart. They were back in the dining area. The room was pitched in shadows. She had lost track of the time.
This wasn't turning out to be her night. She felt drained. Fear had long given up and gone home. She just wanted this to be over – one way or another.
"This is your doing!" She spat at her fellow captive.
"Ironic isn't it?" the Joker shrugged. "Oh, well, I suppose I finally got a laugh out of him – I should be proud of that!" His grin widened. "Yes! Score one for Joker!"
One of the shadows shifted. "So who's first?" it asked.
"Me!" screamed the Joker. "No, I mean her!"
"I think her too."
Barbara froze. What a way to go. Killed by her mentor who now believed he was his arch nemsis. Killed in, some ways, by the Joker after all yet the real Joker would never know. It was like some sort of inside joke.
"Not going to cry out Barbara?" demanded Batman. "Defiant to the last?" Did she detect a hint of pride in that last remark?
Who was she to cry out to?
J'onn?
She tried constantly to contact him that night, but then her night had been just a whole barrel of misfortune. She'd given up hope.
Yet surely she was allowed one lucky break?
A batarang sliced into the wall centimetres from her head. A lucky miss, or was their intent not to kill? Was Bruce still in there somewhere?
"Missed." Batman said flatly.
J'onn..
Fortune smiles when you least expect it and Barbara genuinely did not expect a reply.
"My apologies," came the ghostly voice, "the League has been caught in a temporal flux. We are exhauste-" She cut him off.
"I need him now!" she fired back mentally.
Momentary silence followed, enough to fill the space between breaths yet also enough to fill two lifetimes. A different voice answered, brusquely.
"Perhaps if Batman had denied my request for assistance with a little more courtesy than simply 'I'm out', I maybe inclined to sort out his mess-"
"I don't have time for your petty disputes!" screamed Barbara mentally. She had enough of this. This was the last chance for all of them. She sent conjured up a mental image just as Batman's hands gripped her throat.
"You're communicating with the Manky Martian!" he breathed. "I can tell! I know all that Batsy knows!"
"The Martian?" The real Joker enquired. His question was answered in the form of Batman's fist, striking him out for the second time. Batman's focus was Barbara.
"You've told them!" he muttered with a slight hint of panic. "He'll be on his way!"
"I'm on my way," a voice tickled her head, "Please hold on!" She could feel Batman's fingers snake around her throat. It would take seconds for him to get here. It would take seconds for Batman to end her life.
"You can't do it." She said coldly. "You can't kill me."
Batman backed off.
Did she see a glimmer of sanity emerge from beneath the mask?
The grin, to her disappointment returned – as did the voice.
"Maybe Brucie won't let me kill you directly, but indirectly he has far less influence – silly old codger!" His face lit up with a new idea "I don't think I want to meet our soon-to-be-gate crasher right at moment – let's send him a gift!"
He released three capsules from his belt across the room. As soon as the first one hit the wall it exploded sending debris and waste flying in all direction.
The house began to collapse.
***
He launched off the lunar surface and down towards the planet below.
How could he be so aloof? How could he have been so petty? Those extra seconds he lost making some infantile point could have cost Oracle and Batman their lives. The problem with being so fast, every second becomes more valuable.
He could put it down his behaviour to the mission the League had been called out on, but that wasn't Clark. He took full responsibility of his actions, regardless of the endeavours. The fact they had only just made it out alive was no excuse. He'd been so angry with Bruce when he had refused to come along. Clearly he had something on his mind more important than saving the world – most likely Gotham. That city took precedence over everything.
What has that city done to you now, Bruce?
This wasn't the way it could end.
It shouldn't end this way.
His mind whispered alien thoughts. "Clark, there has been an explosion. I've lost contact."
"Thanks J'onn. Inform Nightwing what's happened. I think he has a right to know."
He mustered extra speed.
My god Bruce, what have you done this time?
He hit the atmosphere and gathered his wits. He had no idea what to expect.
Seconds past.
***
She was bleeding; a piece of debris has kissed her forehead on its way past. She yanked her shoulders away from the batarangs that fixed her to the wall. She suddenly realised the bonds that had imprisoned her were now undone. Was it Bruce who had done that? Was Bruce fighting against his new persona?
She pulled herself off the wall and fell to the floor. The second bomb exploded spitting debris everywhere. She protected her face with her arm as she was covered in plaster and pieces of. A picture of herself and her father cascaded off the wall and shattered on the floor. Splits started to caress the ceiling. The Joker had awoken and was dislodging himself from the wall with the strength of his shoulders. He had removed his bonds. He fell to the floor beside her.
"I'm out of here toots!" he declared as he pulled himself to his feet.
The third of Batman's capsules ignited taking out the facing wall, showering her with more plaster.
Barbara looked up at the ceiling it. It was about to collapse and the Joker had managed to disappear.
Without her chair she was near to helpless in this explosive environment. A few years ago it would have been two short leaps and a cartwheel to escape this death.
Alone, she faced her fate with resolve. Damn you Joker, at least you won't get me.
That was when the ceiling exploded with colours.
Blue.
Red.
She saw a vague shape for the briefest moment before the colours lit the path between her and the ceiling. It then carried her upwards like she was caught in a current of watery hues. The ceilings and walls exploded around her body until she could finally see the night sky.
The warm tinted light dropped her down onto the grass, the colours before her combined into physical form. Finally, Barbara's eyes caught up with the object they had been so desperately trying to catch - an object that moved far faster than a speeding bullet.
The house began to collapse.
Good riddance, she thought. All the memories of this night would no longer have a physical presence to linger in.
Then a thought struck her.
That was her fathers house she had just destroyed.
She began to giggle uncontrollably.
Superman leant down towards her just as she passed out.
***
With a mixture of awe and wonder the Batman strolled into the batcave. Part of him felt as familiar to this place as a mother is to her child. The other part, the manifestation of the Joker, the mental reconstruction of insanity to fight a mind-altering toxin, felt victorious. Not only did he have the Batman, but all his toys. He had managed to steal all from Bruce Wayne - his mission, his life – even his identity.
He chuckled to himself. In fact, the idiot had offered it to him on a platter.
"Thank you Batbore!" He exclaimed, sitting down at the gigantic computer. He then began spinning the chair frantically, chortling to himself. The noise of his laughter echoed throughout the hollow chambers and the cave replied with the sound of unsettled bats screeching, rebuking their changed master.
He began taping spryly at the keyboard. "Let's see what we mischief we can get up to here!" he chuckled to himself from underneath the cowl. "Could I have a better toy than this?"
The elevator doors to the mansion above opened. Batman took in the sounds and deduced the occupant before carrying on with his data search.
She was still in the same clothes - her best clothes – now ruined by a mix of blood, sweat and dirt.
"Brucie can't hear you." Sung the Batman as he merrily continued to tap away at the console.
Barbara wheeled cautiously closer. The cave was virtually pitch black aside from the ghostly glow of the computer screens.
"Where's our blue and red boy scout?" Batman asked. "I do hope he hasn't blown you out on your first date."
Barbara edged closer still. "He's not here. Busy chasing the real Joker back to Arkham." She shrugged. "Besides, I may have misled him a little to where your whereabouts might be."
Batman swung round. "Now, that was thoughtful of you!" he grinned, "and here I was thinking you had a deathwish or something! You think you have a better chance at saving Bruce than he? He could stop me. You can't"
Barbara edged closer, the light from the monitors washing against her clear complexion. "Just because I'm crippled doesn't mean I don't know how to defend myself anymore," she told him grimly. "I want to save Bruce, you might not give Clark that luxury."
"You against me? The big league?" Batman sneered swinging to face her, "Don't make me laugh!"
"You're not the big league," Barbara retorted. "Bruce functions on order – everything he does is controlled and systematic. Life has to be methodical and precise. There can be no errors, no risks. No chance to threaten life. You can't work like that! You are not half the man he is!" She wheeled closer still. "In fact, I'm willing to bet that mind of his is such a mess even I could take you on," she grinned wickedly, "Even in this chair."
Her hands gripped her chair's wheels tightly. Her muscles were tense. This was an awful risk.
Batman's eyes remained fixed on Barbara as he caught Dick's batarang.
"Nice try, my little Bat Groupie!" he cackled at Barbara, drowning himself in the sudden look of shock. Relishing the rapid spread of horror that crawled across her face.
"I can smell fear," he said deliciously edging closer to her. "I can smell yours. You're scared. Still the little child playing the big boys games." Barbara could feel herself blushing. "You fear me – and so you should!" With a flick of the wrist, he swung the batarang back on the precise trajectory it had initially travelled upon. It was engulfed by the shadows and replaced by a shape rolling outwards and towards Batman.
With one swift instinctive movement, Batman swung his leg up and kicked at Barbara's chair. Caught of guard it took her by surprise. It rolled back and tipped knocking her across the floor and almost over the edge of the walkway. She cursed herself – Bruce always had a way of intimidating her – making her feel like a little girl again. She was fighting two monsters.
Meanwhile, the shadowy figure took an acrobatic leap that neatly took him off his intended course and placed him between the Batman and Barbara.
Dick Grayson gave Batman an aching glance. "Bruce, what happened?"
"What happened?" snarled the Batman the grin fading from his face, "You tell me! You're the one who left me!" He took a swing at Dick and missed. Dick could feel the urge to go for his gun, but fought it – this was no place for a cop, and there was no time for Nightwing. Dick Grayson, the role that bound his night to his day, was all that stood before the frantic vigilante.
Batman continued his insane ranting his Joker-esque tones getting higher. "You're the one who couldn't hack being on the team!" Dick dodged another swing. "You could have been my legacy! You could have been this city's future!" Dick backed away, wary of Batman's lightening fast reflexes. Thankfully, the fit of rage consuming hem was interfering with his usual precision. Bruce's attacks were too sloppy to actually make contact.
"You tell me what happened!" Batman's advances became ever more violent. "Don't like my methods?" screamed the Dark Knight. Dick felt he was running out of space, he knew the layout of the cave – he new what he was about to collide with if he didn't move. With a scream, Batman swung his fist with full force at his ex partner. Dick had more than enough experience to avoid the blow and duck to the side. "Look in the mirror Grayson!" yelled his attacker, his hand ploughing straight through the glass cabinet behind Dick, "You can't escape the legacy of-"
His eyes became transfixed on the cabinet's damaged contents. He paused, the manic rage warping into tortured confusion.
"Robin?"
High up, the bats began to sing in unison.
And then silence.
Barbara felt a pair of familiar hands lift her back into her chair, something she would normally preferred to do herself, but tonight, she needed to be looked after and she knew he would look take care of her. Dick watched his ex-partner cautiously from her side. Batman remained still, his fist caught in the case's contents. Barbara watched her lover nervously. He noticed her gaze and placed a hand on her shoulder tightly. She should have never pushed him away tonight. She knew now that's what she had done – tried to protect him from her pain. She couldn't protect him from her past anymore than she could protect him from this.
The blood oozed through Bruce's gloves, matching the colour of the garment that was tightly ensnared in his grip. Bruce's mouth trembled as he spoke. The voice was an uncomfortable mix of his normal timbre and that of the mimic Joker's.
"I killed you," he declared softly.
Dick shifted uncomfortably. "Go and get Alfred," he whispered to Barbara.
Clutching the pieces of red and yellow cloth closely to his chest, Batman dropped to the floor.
"Why not call Alfred from here?" Barbara protested. She could see Dick's resolve so she tried a more honest approach. "I don't think I should be leaving you."
Dick squeezed her shoulder. "Please, go and get Alfred," he asked firmly.
She nodded numbly, understanding the reason for his request. As she headed back to the elevator, she glanced over her shoulder as Dick gently knelt down and placed an arm around the broken man.
As the lift doors shut, she listened to the sound of gentle sobbing tear through her heart.