Redemption Part 6
Bruce felt a single tear fall from his eye as he watched his son walk away from him. Was this forever?
As Dick neared the light he reached out to touch it, to touch Barbara's hand.
Savagely, violently, he was thrown across the room. He hit the wall with a dull thud. The light and Barbara disappeared. Bruce watched. He realized his mouth was open. He wasn't sure what to make of what he had seen. This was what he had feared.
Dick sat up on his knees. He started crawling towards where Barbara and the light had been.
"Nooo! Don't leave me! I set things right! Please! Barbara! Barbara!" he cried. On his hands and knees, he cried.
The sound of police sirens filled the air. Quickly replacing his cowl, Batman walked over to his son. Reaching down, he grabbed him by the shoulders. "We have to leave. The police are coming. We can't be found here with the Joker's body."
"I don't care. I don't care anymore," Dick said as he looked up at Batman with tears in his eyes. "I don't understand. I set things right. That's what I was supposed to do. I got revenge."
"It's not about revenge Dick, it's about redemption. I'll explain later, but please, let's leave. We have to leave," Batman said softly as he pulled the boy up and ushered him out of the building.
"Redemption?" Dick whispered as they headed into the night.
_______________________________________________________________________
Commission Aiken surveyed the scene before him.
Police photographers were eagerly snapping photographs of the Joker's dead body. EMT's worked with the pathetic man groveling on the ground, obviously insane. He kept repeating "crow ... the crow comes" over and over.
Aiken shook his head as he turned back to the sight of the Joker's broken lifeless body. He couldn't say he was unhappy Gotham City's worst scourge was finally dead. Yet, this was still a homicide that he and the GCPD had to investigate. They couldn't let a murderer go free -- not even when he deserved a medal whoever he was.
Bullock walked over, "Hey Commish, think the city should throw a party?"
Aiken briefly rolled his eyes and bit back a resounding yes. "Any clues?" He looked at the old fun house walls, graffiti obviously made by the Joker painted everywhere. Bat symbols crossed through with lines. Then he looked down at the Joker's dead body, the head tilted awkwardly to the right.
"The whacko in the corner ain't much help. You know what everyone's whispering," Bullock said as he took a bite of his doughnut.
"It's not his style. He doesn't kill."
"If not the Bat, then who?"
Aiken turned back to the cowering man in the corner as the words "Crow" echoed through his mind.
_______________________________________________________________________
"Anything on Torque's current location squirt?" Arsenal asked as he busily took out a few of Bludhaven's muggers.
"Not yet, but I'm still looking," Tim replied as he frantically typed commands into the Crays. When Tim wasn't being Robin, he had taken to acting as an Oracle of sorts -- mainly for the Bat crew which now seemed to include Arsenal and the Black Canary. He heard the police emergency tapes going off to his side and he quickly turned to read the scrolls.
His hands froze as he read the words, a chill running down his spine. "Oh God."
"What?" Roy asked, hearing the stunned tone in the boy's voice.
"Joker," Tim said almost emotionless.
Roy Harper sighed. "He's out again? Great! Just what the big guy needs right now."
"He's not ... out. He's ... dead. He was ... murdered."
"Murdered!" Roy shouted as his mind raced through the possibilities. Quickly he fired a few arrows pinning the other members of the would be muggers gang to the warehouse wall. "I'm on my way."
Tim found the strength to push himself away from the Bat computer and ran up the stairs toward the Manor proper. "Alfred!" Tim called as he entered the study from the secret clock entrance. "Alfred! Where are you?"
The dignified old man walked into the large room. "Master Timothy, whatever is all the shouting about?"
"Joker," Tim started as he tried to catch his breath. "Joker's ... dead."
_______________________________________________________________________
Listlessly, Dick sat by the gargoyle on top of Gotham Cathedral. At one time, it had been his favorite place in Gotham. At one time. His mind tried to comprehend what his father had told him in the ride from the old fun house. "It's not about revenge Dick, it's about redemption." He looked behind him to Batman who silently stood there. His presence was strangely comforting to a soul beyond comfort. How long had they existed there in silence? "Redemption?"
Batman slipped the cowl back revealing the troubled face of Bruce Wayne. He moved over and sat beside his son. "What we found out -- what I wanted to tell you -- all the legends Tim and I found state that the Crow is back seeking redemption for his own soul and his killers. You're not suppose to kill though."
Dick turned his head away, his anger boiling within him. "Tell that to my anger. It's still here, within me."
Bruce sighed and placed his hand over Dick's. "I know. You're still here because, well, you haven't done what you were supposed to do."
Standing he walked toward the center of the roof. "Now I never can! I killed him! I killed the Joker and I enjoyed every minute of it. How can I redeem someone who's dead? How can I redeem myself?"
"We can work on your own -- "
"My what? Redemption! What the hell did I have to redeem Bruce? Ever since I was eight years old did I went out night after night saving people, helping people. I didn't deserve this! Babs didn't deserve for that maniac to paralyze her, rape her, and murder her! What the hell -- "
Bruce grabbed him by his shoulders, "I don't know," roared from his raw scratchy throat. "I don't understand this, Dick. But I know that murder is wrong, no matter how right or justified it feels. I know you know that too. I understand nothing in this situation is fair. But I will help you however I can. Together we will make this right."
Dick threw his head back and looked up at the stars sparkling in the night sky. An anguished moan escaped his lips as a crow cawed in the night.
_______________________________________________________________________
The young attendant at Gotham General's morgue slid the rack where the Joker's dead body lay into its vault and closed the heavy metal door. He shuddered. When he was a child, his mother told him horror stories about the Joker. He was Gotham's very own Boogie Man. Now the Boogie Man was dead, but the night didn't seem any safer.
He walked to his desk and sat down, pulling out his medical text. He placed his headphones on and cut up the volume. Working his way through med school as the morgue's night attendant wasn't the best job in the world, but it gave him a lot of time to study and the customers didn't talk back.
Most of the time.
A large white boa constrictor slithered across the floor and started wrapping itself around the attendant's leg. He swatted as he kept reading, then he felt the tightening. Removing the headphones, he looked down to see the albino creature swirling around him. He yelled as he tried in vain to stand, but the unearthly animal had started its death grip. As the attendant breathed his last breaths, a knocking sound came from the vault housing the Joker's body.
The door flew off its hinges as thin pale fingers gripped the outer rim and pushed the slab out. He threw the sheet on the floor as he gleefully hopped down. Green circles mapped his eyes against his stark white skin. He looked into his refection in the stainless steel vault doors of the morgue and smiled evilly. The new look matched his hair. He liked it. He liked the new strength too.
Why was he in the morgue? Oh yes, the other one had killed him. The other one like him. But not like him, different. Oh well, it didn't matter now, he thought as he stooped down and picked up the large snake from around the lifeless man's body. The other one had freed him from death. Now he could entertain Gotham City for eternity.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
Bruce felt a single tear fall from his eye as he watched his son walk away from him. Was this forever?
As Dick neared the light he reached out to touch it, to touch Barbara's hand.
Savagely, violently, he was thrown across the room. He hit the wall with a dull thud. The light and Barbara disappeared. Bruce watched. He realized his mouth was open. He wasn't sure what to make of what he had seen. This was what he had feared.
Dick sat up on his knees. He started crawling towards where Barbara and the light had been.
"Nooo! Don't leave me! I set things right! Please! Barbara! Barbara!" he cried. On his hands and knees, he cried.
The sound of police sirens filled the air. Quickly replacing his cowl, Batman walked over to his son. Reaching down, he grabbed him by the shoulders. "We have to leave. The police are coming. We can't be found here with the Joker's body."
"I don't care. I don't care anymore," Dick said as he looked up at Batman with tears in his eyes. "I don't understand. I set things right. That's what I was supposed to do. I got revenge."
"It's not about revenge Dick, it's about redemption. I'll explain later, but please, let's leave. We have to leave," Batman said softly as he pulled the boy up and ushered him out of the building.
"Redemption?" Dick whispered as they headed into the night.
_______________________________________________________________________
Commission Aiken surveyed the scene before him.
Police photographers were eagerly snapping photographs of the Joker's dead body. EMT's worked with the pathetic man groveling on the ground, obviously insane. He kept repeating "crow ... the crow comes" over and over.
Aiken shook his head as he turned back to the sight of the Joker's broken lifeless body. He couldn't say he was unhappy Gotham City's worst scourge was finally dead. Yet, this was still a homicide that he and the GCPD had to investigate. They couldn't let a murderer go free -- not even when he deserved a medal whoever he was.
Bullock walked over, "Hey Commish, think the city should throw a party?"
Aiken briefly rolled his eyes and bit back a resounding yes. "Any clues?" He looked at the old fun house walls, graffiti obviously made by the Joker painted everywhere. Bat symbols crossed through with lines. Then he looked down at the Joker's dead body, the head tilted awkwardly to the right.
"The whacko in the corner ain't much help. You know what everyone's whispering," Bullock said as he took a bite of his doughnut.
"It's not his style. He doesn't kill."
"If not the Bat, then who?"
Aiken turned back to the cowering man in the corner as the words "Crow" echoed through his mind.
_______________________________________________________________________
"Anything on Torque's current location squirt?" Arsenal asked as he busily took out a few of Bludhaven's muggers.
"Not yet, but I'm still looking," Tim replied as he frantically typed commands into the Crays. When Tim wasn't being Robin, he had taken to acting as an Oracle of sorts -- mainly for the Bat crew which now seemed to include Arsenal and the Black Canary. He heard the police emergency tapes going off to his side and he quickly turned to read the scrolls.
His hands froze as he read the words, a chill running down his spine. "Oh God."
"What?" Roy asked, hearing the stunned tone in the boy's voice.
"Joker," Tim said almost emotionless.
Roy Harper sighed. "He's out again? Great! Just what the big guy needs right now."
"He's not ... out. He's ... dead. He was ... murdered."
"Murdered!" Roy shouted as his mind raced through the possibilities. Quickly he fired a few arrows pinning the other members of the would be muggers gang to the warehouse wall. "I'm on my way."
Tim found the strength to push himself away from the Bat computer and ran up the stairs toward the Manor proper. "Alfred!" Tim called as he entered the study from the secret clock entrance. "Alfred! Where are you?"
The dignified old man walked into the large room. "Master Timothy, whatever is all the shouting about?"
"Joker," Tim started as he tried to catch his breath. "Joker's ... dead."
_______________________________________________________________________
Listlessly, Dick sat by the gargoyle on top of Gotham Cathedral. At one time, it had been his favorite place in Gotham. At one time. His mind tried to comprehend what his father had told him in the ride from the old fun house. "It's not about revenge Dick, it's about redemption." He looked behind him to Batman who silently stood there. His presence was strangely comforting to a soul beyond comfort. How long had they existed there in silence? "Redemption?"
Batman slipped the cowl back revealing the troubled face of Bruce Wayne. He moved over and sat beside his son. "What we found out -- what I wanted to tell you -- all the legends Tim and I found state that the Crow is back seeking redemption for his own soul and his killers. You're not suppose to kill though."
Dick turned his head away, his anger boiling within him. "Tell that to my anger. It's still here, within me."
Bruce sighed and placed his hand over Dick's. "I know. You're still here because, well, you haven't done what you were supposed to do."
Standing he walked toward the center of the roof. "Now I never can! I killed him! I killed the Joker and I enjoyed every minute of it. How can I redeem someone who's dead? How can I redeem myself?"
"We can work on your own -- "
"My what? Redemption! What the hell did I have to redeem Bruce? Ever since I was eight years old did I went out night after night saving people, helping people. I didn't deserve this! Babs didn't deserve for that maniac to paralyze her, rape her, and murder her! What the hell -- "
Bruce grabbed him by his shoulders, "I don't know," roared from his raw scratchy throat. "I don't understand this, Dick. But I know that murder is wrong, no matter how right or justified it feels. I know you know that too. I understand nothing in this situation is fair. But I will help you however I can. Together we will make this right."
Dick threw his head back and looked up at the stars sparkling in the night sky. An anguished moan escaped his lips as a crow cawed in the night.
_______________________________________________________________________
The young attendant at Gotham General's morgue slid the rack where the Joker's dead body lay into its vault and closed the heavy metal door. He shuddered. When he was a child, his mother told him horror stories about the Joker. He was Gotham's very own Boogie Man. Now the Boogie Man was dead, but the night didn't seem any safer.
He walked to his desk and sat down, pulling out his medical text. He placed his headphones on and cut up the volume. Working his way through med school as the morgue's night attendant wasn't the best job in the world, but it gave him a lot of time to study and the customers didn't talk back.
Most of the time.
A large white boa constrictor slithered across the floor and started wrapping itself around the attendant's leg. He swatted as he kept reading, then he felt the tightening. Removing the headphones, he looked down to see the albino creature swirling around him. He yelled as he tried in vain to stand, but the unearthly animal had started its death grip. As the attendant breathed his last breaths, a knocking sound came from the vault housing the Joker's body.
The door flew off its hinges as thin pale fingers gripped the outer rim and pushed the slab out. He threw the sheet on the floor as he gleefully hopped down. Green circles mapped his eyes against his stark white skin. He looked into his refection in the stainless steel vault doors of the morgue and smiled evilly. The new look matched his hair. He liked it. He liked the new strength too.
Why was he in the morgue? Oh yes, the other one had killed him. The other one like him. But not like him, different. Oh well, it didn't matter now, he thought as he stooped down and picked up the large snake from around the lifeless man's body. The other one had freed him from death. Now he could entertain Gotham City for eternity.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
