The Joker sat in his cell, inwardly reflecting upon his current situation.
He had become such a liability to Arkham that his cell could no longer be decorated with anything that might be deemed as possible means of escape.
Therefore, the cell was totally empty.
The room wasn't even lit. A year back, a rigged hand buzzer constructed from the light fitting had electrocuted one of the guards. The administration had learned through the experience that even illumination could be used to the Joker's advantage. Because of this, they hand installed a special infrared surveillance camera and entrenched it within a unique concave ceiling. Time would only tell if the Joker could use this to his advantage.
Maybe this time they could stop him from escaping.
No one really believed it.
Yet since he had been incarcerated, thanks to Superman's intervention, he had just sat there. No movement, no attempt to confuse or manipulate the guards.
He sat in the dark.
Alone.
The Joker and his straightjacket, bonded in the dark
Reflecting.
Scheming.
Waiting for an opportunity to arise.
***
A suppressed smile flickered across his features for just a fraction of a second. That slight rustle of a cape told him he was not alone.
"Visiting hours are over," he cooed.
"I'm not here to play games," the shadow answered, "Just to warn you."
"Oh do go on Bats. I'm giddy with anticipation. What could you be warning me about? Sending me to Arkham?"
"The Gordon's are off limits. They've both suffered enough of your madness. Go near them again and I'll destroy you."
"Is that a threat?" Joker remained perfectly still, listening. The voice kept moving, making sure he couldn't pinpoint its origin.
They were both too good at this.
"It's no threat," replied the voice, "It's a fact. I will not tolerate anymore of this persecution."
"Yet you'll tolerate my attempts to commit mass homicide against this fair city?" the Joker smirked quietly. "Is that personal guilt I can hear rumbling inside your batbriefs?"
"Ignore the warning and you will suffer. I promise."
The Joker calculated the odds. Certainly the Bat wasn't himself. This was not an observation based on the most recent escapade, he could hear it his enemy's voice. There was fatigue, maybe ailment. Could this be the moment he was waiting for?
He waited until he heard the voice once more and then leapt up, his beady eyes searching against the black for their prey. He was here and he was weak. If he could not use him for escape, he could at least get the pleasure of killing him.
Where was he?
"Lost your bearings Joker?"
Frustration began to sink in and he snapped, his straight jacket flared open and he began grasping vainly at the dark. "You can't stop me!" he snarled, "You never can stop me! I'll hound that girl until the end of my days if it will hurt you! There is nothing you can do about it!"
"If you do," came the voice from behind him, "I will stop you – permanently."
"You haven't the guts!" screamed the mad man, twisting round searching through the black for his target. "You're all hot air!"
The voice had managed again to duck behind the Joker. "Try me. You may be unpleasantly surprised," growled the voice. "The rules have changed."
"Come out where I can see you!" yelled the lunatic. Too late, he realised that the voices had lured him away from the door and before he could react, he heard the sound of the door being sealed behind him.
***
Seething he sat back down on the floor.
He grinned.
Never mind, it had been a good sign.
If Batman could get in, he could get out.
He began his long wait for the next opportunity.
***
"I hope I misinterpreted what you said in there."
Batman tensed to the sound of Superman's voice. He buried the frustration he felt and continued to gaze out across Arkham's roof. The cold wind blew his cape out in front of his body, like claws reaching out into the cold night sky.
"You're getting good at this." The Bat said dryly. "I didn't hear you."
"I'd take that as compliment, if you weren't so out of shape." Superman floated into Batman's line of sight. "I'm concerned about you Bruce, I heard what you said to the Joker and I can't say I'm comfortable with it."
He was listening – super hearing. Couldn't the man just keep out of his affairs?
"He has to know his limits."
"Do you know yours?"
Batman paused. "I don't know. There is a cycle and every time it revolves, an innocent gets hurt." He turned to face the Kryptonian. "Should we be trying to stop the cycle rather than perpetuate it?"
"That's dangerous talk Bruce. It's a one way trip."
Batman rubbed his temples. "How long are we to play this game with him? How many more must die until someone finishes him?"
Superman frowned. "Are you willing to sacrifice all you are for him? He'd want you to do that."
Batman remained silent. Superman studied his long time friend. Outwardly he was still a mess. Stubble lined his mouth and his stance retained none of its usual bold posture.
"Take some time off, Bruce. We don't want to lose you to this mess."
With that, Superman shot into the sky leaving Bruce and the icy winds. His final words left echoing in the sky.
"Remember Hal Jordan."
***
James Gordon sat in his car outside the remains of his house. He sipped at his cold coffee as he surveyed the wreckage of his burnt out home. The police report sat on his lap covered in coffee spills and ash burns - a 'gift' from the department.
He tossed the papers onto the passenger seat and got slowly out of the car, slamming the door shut.
Out of the corner of his eye he had seen the cape dancing behind a nearby tree, a calling sign to him. He adjusted his glasses and walked over. The moon sat partnered with an unanswered Bat signal. Not my problem, he told himself.
He gazed down the dark street. "What a mess," he mentioned to the dark figure. "Insurance will cover it, but it's not something you want return to after being lead on a wild family goose chase. I guess I can thank the Joker for that one."
"What happened Jim?"
"Another time," Gordon replied.
There followed a pause in the conversation, interrupted by the occasional passing taxi. Gordon could feel his teeth chattering in the contemptuous wind.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop it," whispered the shadow.
"What happened Batman?" Gordon asked suddenly with a slight degree of understandable agitation. "Barbara hasn't told me the whole story. It was something very nasty – I know that - even for the Joker."
Batman grunted an affirmation. Gordon wiped his glasses.
"I know you were there. We - they - found traces of your 'equipment'. What was that madman trying to do to my little girl?" Batman flinched at Gordon's tone. He could imagine how hard this must be to have the Joker intrude once more into his life.
"I wasn't there."
"The explosives that destroyed the place were a chemical compound, similar to ones we've experienced with yourself on occasions," He continued bitterly. "Don't lie to me. Damn you Batman, don't lie to me!" He rustled through his pockets and then realised he had left the cigarette packet in the car. "If you know something – I have a right to know."
"I wasn't there Jim, you can trust me on that."
"Stop it!" yelled Gordon, his rage flowing to his cheeks. Batman took a step back in genuine surprise. "I have never question your methods, or your hidden secrets! But in this case I'd expect you to make an exception! That man killed my wife, he crippled my daughter and god knows what he tried last night." As Gordon ran a hand through his hair he glanced into the face of his associate. He turned back towards his house. The fury died from his voice.
"You look awful. What the hell did he do to you?"
For a moment, there was another awkward silence - a choice of words was being searched for. "He broke me."
Jim needn't bother to turn round; from experience he knew the vigilante was gone.
***
"You called?"
Batman drifted into the clock tower. Barbara smiled as she consumed the final piece of her late night sandwich. "I thought you would like to help me with my solitaire game. I think I've finally found one of those impossible combinations." She shrugged off his reply of silence and clicked the mouse. "Well I thought it was funny." She closed down her browser and wheeled round, adjusting her spectacles to inspect him. "You're meant to be resting," she told him.
"I had something on my mind," he said dryly.
"Sit down Bruce," she motioned to the chair next to him. The Batman remained static.
She turned back to her screen. "Sit down or fall down, it's all the same to me. You don't have to be the world's greatest detective to see that you are on your last legs."
Batman slowly slumped on the chair and Barbara slid her chair over to him. "That toxin is still in your bloodstream, you should be resting until you've sweated it out."
"I know what I'm doing."
"I'm not sure you do," she told him with a smile. "Don't make me bring Dick all the way out here to put you to bed. You'll regret it. He's surprisingly bad with bedtime stories. Go home."
"I don't need a mother, Barbara." Bruce replied.
"Isn't that what you've always needed?" she said gently.
He sat there in silence.
The beeping sound informing her of a new email drew her attention away from the Dark Knight. As she turned back to the computer desk she felt a hand grip her chair.
"Those things he," Batman corrected himself, "No, I said - they weren't true."
She looked away from him, again feeling like a small child in the presence of her father. "I'm not so sure Bruce."
"Maybe once, a long time ago, but not anymore." She felt the cold glove against her chin, turning her head to face him. She looked up at his worn, face, he had removed the cowl and she looked straight into his deep, tired eyes. "I was wrong about resenting your involvement in our team." She had to confess the emphasis on the word 'our'. "You've proven time and again to be as strong and as reliable as any of us - considering what's happened, even more so. I don't think I ever let any of you know how proud I am of you all."
Barbara hadn't seen him so candid in a long time. She couldn't decided if she felt overjoyed or terrified.
"I'm sorry," The word flowed uncomfortably from his lips. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him in time. I was sloppy in my work and for that you almost paid the price."
"Hey, I'm a big girl, I can look after myself," she beamed.
"Yes, indeed you are."
Was that a grin?
"You drunk?" she quipped. "You don't smile."
"No," he replied as he replaced the mask. "Just soft."
"Soft?" she exclaimed cheekily, "You?"
"Probably." Was that a smile again?
He offered one more awkward pause. "I'm just grateful that I've had the chance to apologise. I never had - and never will - get that opportunity with Jason."
Then, he was gone – leaving Barbara to the intermittent beeping of her email.
***
"Shouldn't you be at work?" Bruce asked.
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Dick retorted.
Batman grunted and removed the cowl. With his unique and frankly miraculous timing, Alfred had left a cup of warm coffee by the computer and disappeared probably just seconds before Bruce had entered the Bat Cave. The man was verging on telepathic. Sometimes Bruce had to wonder if his butler would have made as worthy adversary as the Joker.
He slumped down into his leather chair and took the coffee.
"You running on caffeine alone?" Dick asked as he leant against Bruce's seat.
"I like to think its willpower, but yes quite probably," admitted the vigilante. "Did Barbara send you?"
Dick tapped his head. "She doesn't need to. I just know." He paused. "You okay Bruce? You seem, well, mellow."
"Contemplative."
Dick grinned. "So you should be. You saw a side of yourself you never knew you had. A nasty one at that."
"It wasn't as nasty as you think."
Dick was caught of guard by this admission, and finally decided to let it go. "Well, you shouldn't be pushing yourself until you come to terms with all that head stuff." He rested a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Get some rest, we'll look after Gotham."
"I expected no less." Bruce replied as he left his seat, "Thanks Dick."
***
Showered, he walked into the master bedroom. He threw his towel to the floor and wrapped his dressing gown around his body.
He drew the curtains and switched on the site lamp.
He sat down on the bed next to Jason. The successor to the Boy Wonder was lying across the fresh sheets in his Robin costume.
"They think you're okay?" the ghost asked.
"They know as much as they need to know, so yes, they do."
"Do you think you're okay?"
He paused. "I will be. I just need to come to terms with who I am once more."
The boy began tossing an old batarang. "Really? Come to terms with what?"
Bruce sighed. "We change, as we get older. Something you'll never be able to experience. It's that experience that alters us. It bends us. We tend forget all that we do change as much as everyone else and simply carry on as if all things remained as equal as they were ten years ago."
"How about the fact you're talking to yourself?" The Joker asked from the en-suite. A pink fluffy dressing gown garbed his body and a towel was firmly wrapped around his head. "Don't you wonder if that change you've discovered means you should really be booking out a room at Arkham?" The Joker giggled.
Bruce grinned and the apparition vanished with a note of surprise. "Not yet, not ready for Arkham quite yet."
Robin stuck his tongue out at the spot where the Joker once stood. "You know we may end up there – that could be our destiny."
Bruce nodded.
The lad bounced up on the bed and leaned closer to. "Goodbye Bruce."
The millionaire studied the boy's face, attempting to burn every detail of his dead partner into his own subconsciousness.
He nodded and closed his eyes. "Goodbye Jason," he said softly. With a heavy sigh he lay back onto the bed. Alone.
Or so he thought.
A gentle English cough alerted him to Alfred's presence.
"Is everything okay Master Bruce?"
He smiled. "Fine Alfred. Everything is just fine."
He had become such a liability to Arkham that his cell could no longer be decorated with anything that might be deemed as possible means of escape.
Therefore, the cell was totally empty.
The room wasn't even lit. A year back, a rigged hand buzzer constructed from the light fitting had electrocuted one of the guards. The administration had learned through the experience that even illumination could be used to the Joker's advantage. Because of this, they hand installed a special infrared surveillance camera and entrenched it within a unique concave ceiling. Time would only tell if the Joker could use this to his advantage.
Maybe this time they could stop him from escaping.
No one really believed it.
Yet since he had been incarcerated, thanks to Superman's intervention, he had just sat there. No movement, no attempt to confuse or manipulate the guards.
He sat in the dark.
Alone.
The Joker and his straightjacket, bonded in the dark
Reflecting.
Scheming.
Waiting for an opportunity to arise.
***
A suppressed smile flickered across his features for just a fraction of a second. That slight rustle of a cape told him he was not alone.
"Visiting hours are over," he cooed.
"I'm not here to play games," the shadow answered, "Just to warn you."
"Oh do go on Bats. I'm giddy with anticipation. What could you be warning me about? Sending me to Arkham?"
"The Gordon's are off limits. They've both suffered enough of your madness. Go near them again and I'll destroy you."
"Is that a threat?" Joker remained perfectly still, listening. The voice kept moving, making sure he couldn't pinpoint its origin.
They were both too good at this.
"It's no threat," replied the voice, "It's a fact. I will not tolerate anymore of this persecution."
"Yet you'll tolerate my attempts to commit mass homicide against this fair city?" the Joker smirked quietly. "Is that personal guilt I can hear rumbling inside your batbriefs?"
"Ignore the warning and you will suffer. I promise."
The Joker calculated the odds. Certainly the Bat wasn't himself. This was not an observation based on the most recent escapade, he could hear it his enemy's voice. There was fatigue, maybe ailment. Could this be the moment he was waiting for?
He waited until he heard the voice once more and then leapt up, his beady eyes searching against the black for their prey. He was here and he was weak. If he could not use him for escape, he could at least get the pleasure of killing him.
Where was he?
"Lost your bearings Joker?"
Frustration began to sink in and he snapped, his straight jacket flared open and he began grasping vainly at the dark. "You can't stop me!" he snarled, "You never can stop me! I'll hound that girl until the end of my days if it will hurt you! There is nothing you can do about it!"
"If you do," came the voice from behind him, "I will stop you – permanently."
"You haven't the guts!" screamed the mad man, twisting round searching through the black for his target. "You're all hot air!"
The voice had managed again to duck behind the Joker. "Try me. You may be unpleasantly surprised," growled the voice. "The rules have changed."
"Come out where I can see you!" yelled the lunatic. Too late, he realised that the voices had lured him away from the door and before he could react, he heard the sound of the door being sealed behind him.
***
Seething he sat back down on the floor.
He grinned.
Never mind, it had been a good sign.
If Batman could get in, he could get out.
He began his long wait for the next opportunity.
***
"I hope I misinterpreted what you said in there."
Batman tensed to the sound of Superman's voice. He buried the frustration he felt and continued to gaze out across Arkham's roof. The cold wind blew his cape out in front of his body, like claws reaching out into the cold night sky.
"You're getting good at this." The Bat said dryly. "I didn't hear you."
"I'd take that as compliment, if you weren't so out of shape." Superman floated into Batman's line of sight. "I'm concerned about you Bruce, I heard what you said to the Joker and I can't say I'm comfortable with it."
He was listening – super hearing. Couldn't the man just keep out of his affairs?
"He has to know his limits."
"Do you know yours?"
Batman paused. "I don't know. There is a cycle and every time it revolves, an innocent gets hurt." He turned to face the Kryptonian. "Should we be trying to stop the cycle rather than perpetuate it?"
"That's dangerous talk Bruce. It's a one way trip."
Batman rubbed his temples. "How long are we to play this game with him? How many more must die until someone finishes him?"
Superman frowned. "Are you willing to sacrifice all you are for him? He'd want you to do that."
Batman remained silent. Superman studied his long time friend. Outwardly he was still a mess. Stubble lined his mouth and his stance retained none of its usual bold posture.
"Take some time off, Bruce. We don't want to lose you to this mess."
With that, Superman shot into the sky leaving Bruce and the icy winds. His final words left echoing in the sky.
"Remember Hal Jordan."
***
James Gordon sat in his car outside the remains of his house. He sipped at his cold coffee as he surveyed the wreckage of his burnt out home. The police report sat on his lap covered in coffee spills and ash burns - a 'gift' from the department.
He tossed the papers onto the passenger seat and got slowly out of the car, slamming the door shut.
Out of the corner of his eye he had seen the cape dancing behind a nearby tree, a calling sign to him. He adjusted his glasses and walked over. The moon sat partnered with an unanswered Bat signal. Not my problem, he told himself.
He gazed down the dark street. "What a mess," he mentioned to the dark figure. "Insurance will cover it, but it's not something you want return to after being lead on a wild family goose chase. I guess I can thank the Joker for that one."
"What happened Jim?"
"Another time," Gordon replied.
There followed a pause in the conversation, interrupted by the occasional passing taxi. Gordon could feel his teeth chattering in the contemptuous wind.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop it," whispered the shadow.
"What happened Batman?" Gordon asked suddenly with a slight degree of understandable agitation. "Barbara hasn't told me the whole story. It was something very nasty – I know that - even for the Joker."
Batman grunted an affirmation. Gordon wiped his glasses.
"I know you were there. We - they - found traces of your 'equipment'. What was that madman trying to do to my little girl?" Batman flinched at Gordon's tone. He could imagine how hard this must be to have the Joker intrude once more into his life.
"I wasn't there."
"The explosives that destroyed the place were a chemical compound, similar to ones we've experienced with yourself on occasions," He continued bitterly. "Don't lie to me. Damn you Batman, don't lie to me!" He rustled through his pockets and then realised he had left the cigarette packet in the car. "If you know something – I have a right to know."
"I wasn't there Jim, you can trust me on that."
"Stop it!" yelled Gordon, his rage flowing to his cheeks. Batman took a step back in genuine surprise. "I have never question your methods, or your hidden secrets! But in this case I'd expect you to make an exception! That man killed my wife, he crippled my daughter and god knows what he tried last night." As Gordon ran a hand through his hair he glanced into the face of his associate. He turned back towards his house. The fury died from his voice.
"You look awful. What the hell did he do to you?"
For a moment, there was another awkward silence - a choice of words was being searched for. "He broke me."
Jim needn't bother to turn round; from experience he knew the vigilante was gone.
***
"You called?"
Batman drifted into the clock tower. Barbara smiled as she consumed the final piece of her late night sandwich. "I thought you would like to help me with my solitaire game. I think I've finally found one of those impossible combinations." She shrugged off his reply of silence and clicked the mouse. "Well I thought it was funny." She closed down her browser and wheeled round, adjusting her spectacles to inspect him. "You're meant to be resting," she told him.
"I had something on my mind," he said dryly.
"Sit down Bruce," she motioned to the chair next to him. The Batman remained static.
She turned back to her screen. "Sit down or fall down, it's all the same to me. You don't have to be the world's greatest detective to see that you are on your last legs."
Batman slowly slumped on the chair and Barbara slid her chair over to him. "That toxin is still in your bloodstream, you should be resting until you've sweated it out."
"I know what I'm doing."
"I'm not sure you do," she told him with a smile. "Don't make me bring Dick all the way out here to put you to bed. You'll regret it. He's surprisingly bad with bedtime stories. Go home."
"I don't need a mother, Barbara." Bruce replied.
"Isn't that what you've always needed?" she said gently.
He sat there in silence.
The beeping sound informing her of a new email drew her attention away from the Dark Knight. As she turned back to the computer desk she felt a hand grip her chair.
"Those things he," Batman corrected himself, "No, I said - they weren't true."
She looked away from him, again feeling like a small child in the presence of her father. "I'm not so sure Bruce."
"Maybe once, a long time ago, but not anymore." She felt the cold glove against her chin, turning her head to face him. She looked up at his worn, face, he had removed the cowl and she looked straight into his deep, tired eyes. "I was wrong about resenting your involvement in our team." She had to confess the emphasis on the word 'our'. "You've proven time and again to be as strong and as reliable as any of us - considering what's happened, even more so. I don't think I ever let any of you know how proud I am of you all."
Barbara hadn't seen him so candid in a long time. She couldn't decided if she felt overjoyed or terrified.
"I'm sorry," The word flowed uncomfortably from his lips. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him in time. I was sloppy in my work and for that you almost paid the price."
"Hey, I'm a big girl, I can look after myself," she beamed.
"Yes, indeed you are."
Was that a grin?
"You drunk?" she quipped. "You don't smile."
"No," he replied as he replaced the mask. "Just soft."
"Soft?" she exclaimed cheekily, "You?"
"Probably." Was that a smile again?
He offered one more awkward pause. "I'm just grateful that I've had the chance to apologise. I never had - and never will - get that opportunity with Jason."
Then, he was gone – leaving Barbara to the intermittent beeping of her email.
***
"Shouldn't you be at work?" Bruce asked.
"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Dick retorted.
Batman grunted and removed the cowl. With his unique and frankly miraculous timing, Alfred had left a cup of warm coffee by the computer and disappeared probably just seconds before Bruce had entered the Bat Cave. The man was verging on telepathic. Sometimes Bruce had to wonder if his butler would have made as worthy adversary as the Joker.
He slumped down into his leather chair and took the coffee.
"You running on caffeine alone?" Dick asked as he leant against Bruce's seat.
"I like to think its willpower, but yes quite probably," admitted the vigilante. "Did Barbara send you?"
Dick tapped his head. "She doesn't need to. I just know." He paused. "You okay Bruce? You seem, well, mellow."
"Contemplative."
Dick grinned. "So you should be. You saw a side of yourself you never knew you had. A nasty one at that."
"It wasn't as nasty as you think."
Dick was caught of guard by this admission, and finally decided to let it go. "Well, you shouldn't be pushing yourself until you come to terms with all that head stuff." He rested a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Get some rest, we'll look after Gotham."
"I expected no less." Bruce replied as he left his seat, "Thanks Dick."
***
Showered, he walked into the master bedroom. He threw his towel to the floor and wrapped his dressing gown around his body.
He drew the curtains and switched on the site lamp.
He sat down on the bed next to Jason. The successor to the Boy Wonder was lying across the fresh sheets in his Robin costume.
"They think you're okay?" the ghost asked.
"They know as much as they need to know, so yes, they do."
"Do you think you're okay?"
He paused. "I will be. I just need to come to terms with who I am once more."
The boy began tossing an old batarang. "Really? Come to terms with what?"
Bruce sighed. "We change, as we get older. Something you'll never be able to experience. It's that experience that alters us. It bends us. We tend forget all that we do change as much as everyone else and simply carry on as if all things remained as equal as they were ten years ago."
"How about the fact you're talking to yourself?" The Joker asked from the en-suite. A pink fluffy dressing gown garbed his body and a towel was firmly wrapped around his head. "Don't you wonder if that change you've discovered means you should really be booking out a room at Arkham?" The Joker giggled.
Bruce grinned and the apparition vanished with a note of surprise. "Not yet, not ready for Arkham quite yet."
Robin stuck his tongue out at the spot where the Joker once stood. "You know we may end up there – that could be our destiny."
Bruce nodded.
The lad bounced up on the bed and leaned closer to. "Goodbye Bruce."
The millionaire studied the boy's face, attempting to burn every detail of his dead partner into his own subconsciousness.
He nodded and closed his eyes. "Goodbye Jason," he said softly. With a heavy sigh he lay back onto the bed. Alone.
Or so he thought.
A gentle English cough alerted him to Alfred's presence.
"Is everything okay Master Bruce?"
He smiled. "Fine Alfred. Everything is just fine."