ElseWorlds™: Saving James

Chapter 15

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Refer to chapter 1 for the disclaimer for this entire story.

Jim Gordon thanked his daughter for the wonderful time and promised to call her in the morning to make arrangements for a future visit. As he turned to leave, she stopped him. "Dad, why now?"

He looked tired and pulled off his thick glasses. He wiped them on his shirt, a habit he had picked up decades before when he was contemplating how to answer an especially difficult question. He pursed his lips and then started to speak, but halted before uttering a sound.

Barbara wondered of something was wrong, possibly another heart attack. Finally he smiled. "I had to see of I could put my hate behind me. Now I know the answer." He gave her a quick kiss and again promised to call her. As he walked off towards his car, he didn't realize that he was being watched.

"Harl, that was the worst driving I ever saw," the Joker whispered. Then he patted her bottom. "Good job! Got us here right on time."

"Want us to get the old man, boss?" the thug who liked to watch the Joker pee asked.

The Clown Prince shook his head. "Won't do any good. Kidnapping old Jimmy won't bring the Bat out of retirement, but I know what will." He sniffed the air. "Ah, the smell of Barbara Gordon, how refreshing."

Harley wiggled her eyebrows. "And she likes girls now, too!"

The Joker wiped a tear from his eye and stood up. "God bless America, home of the immoral. A place where lesbians can raise the children of insane bastards and psychiatrists get their jollies killing their patients."

"All 'cept one, Puddin'," she reminded him. They waited until Jim had gotten in his car and drove away, no doubt heading back to Gotham City. "Looks like the coats is clear, my sweet," she cooed.

The Joker wondered why he felt nothing for this woman who was obviously so in love with him. Inwardly, he sighed, realizing that boredom, and not the failing of his plan, was bringing him out of retirement. The only man in the world who could kill him, who could release him from this hell he called life, was the Batman, or so he had thought.

He had carried the vain hope that Nightwing would have done it, but all the Joker managed to do was piss the guy off enough that he left the country to shack up with a human green bean with large melons. He giggled at the pun, amazed that even when he was contemplating his own suicide, he still had the fortitude to crack a joke.

Did Harley know about his secret desires, his innermost wants? If she didn't, then she really sucked as a psychiatrist or else he was just too damn good a patient. "Let's go," he ordered.

The doorbell rang again and Barbara, who was busy trying to round her son up for his bath, begged Alfred to get it. "Of course, Mistress Barbara, that is my purpose in life," he joked. Wiping his hands on a dishtowel he proceeded to get the door. He assumed it was Barbara's father again and he secretly hoped it was.

Serving Barbara had been an honor, but Alfred missed Wayne Manor and serving Bruce Wayne. He understood the man's desire to pursue family life now that he had put the Batman behind him, but that didn't mean that Alfred was done mentoring to the man whom he considered a son. If Barbara and her father mended their disputes, then there was a good chance she would move back to Gotham City. After all, with Lois now back with Clark, there really was no reason to remain here in Metropolis.

Alfred never looked through the peephole, a mistake he would never have made at Wayne Manor, where security was the number one priority. In the years he had spent here, Alfred had gotten complacent. That was natural though and nobody would have blamed him.

He never saw what killed him. There was brief flash and his mind registered the sickening grin that would have said "Oh Lord, there is the Joker", but he was dead before that could happen. A machete went clean through his skull, lodging finally in his shoulder. As pieces of his brain and face fell to the floor with his twitching body, the Joker smirked. "Now, if that doesn't get Batman here, I don't know what will."

The thug that delivered the deathblow reached down for the weapon even as the rest of the group entered the apartment. It didn't take long to find Barbara.

Then they found James.

"Daddy?" the little boy asked as he looked up from his toys in the bathtub. Harley was effectively restraining Barbara in the next room. The Joker nodded and stepped inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him. "Mommy said you can't come visit us."

"Did she?" the Joker asked, smiling like a serpent in the garden. "Well, mommy has been under a lot of stress. There's monsters out you know."

"Monsters?" James asked, suddenly wide-eyed.

"Oh, yes, like the evil English child eater that's been living with you."

James was confused. He knew what an Englishman was because Alfred had explained it to him. James had tried to copy Alfred's accent but had come out sounding more like an Australian. "Alfred doesn't eat children."

The Joker nodded and then shrugged. "Not anymore, that's for sure." He reached up and got a towel and helped his son out of the tub. "Son, its time for you to understand your legacy."

"My leg of sea?" the boy asked as he dried off.

The Joker couldn't help but smile. "Your very retarded, you know that?"

James laughed at the sound of the word and the Joker could tell the little boy had no idea what the meaning of it was. "Okay, son, let's go out in the hallway and I'll show you something. Then, I'm going to let your mommy help me show you where babies come from…"

"I thought I'd find you here," Superman said as he landed on the balcony of the apartment he and Lois shared. He then moved at super-speed to go change, after scanning the area to ensure nobody was looking.

Lois stood out on the balcony, holding a glass of wine and looking up at the stars. He approached her from behind and gave her a kiss. He didn't need super-powers to tell that it hadn't been warmly received. The tension between them had been almost insurmountable since his return from the dead.

She had told him all about her relationship with Barbara and he had tried to be understanding. He hadn't done a very good job of it; even a Superman could be a jerk when his heart was broken.

He loved her though and he knew that in the end, they no longer belonged together. "I'm sorry, Kal-El," Lois said, using his Kryptonian name. "I really am."

"I love you, Lois," he said, his fist clenching. It was hard for him to do this, to let her go. "But, it isn't going to work. I'm sorry I died."

"So am I," she said as she turned to him. "I'm glad you're back…"

"But you aren't in love with me anymore, are you?" he asked. She noted how vulnerable he looked as he spoke to her. There was hurt and there was anger, two things you just normally did not see in Superman.

"No…I love her," Lois confessed. She visibly brightened with the confession, but his face darkened. She finished the wine in her glass and walked past him into the apartment. "I'll move out tomorrow."

He stood at the doorway, fighting back the tears that wanted to flow. He knew it was foolish to try and hide his feelings, but he suddenly felt the need to reinforce his manhood. "You don't have to. I'll leave."

She stopped. "You'll be back, won't you? You aren't deserting Metropolis?"

He bit his bottom lip and looked away. "I can't stay here; it hurts too much. There is too much here to remind me of you and what I've lost."

Lois suddenly felt guilty and started to cry. "No! I can't cost the city its Superman! It just got you back…"

"It's not your decision to make," he told her and she realized that for the first time in a long while, he was doing something for himself. "I have some things I've been thinking about doing for awhile now."

She couldn't believe what she hearing and in the blink of an eye, he raced into the bedroom and changed into his costume. She started to say something, hoping to put a positive spin on what was happening, but she realized that it was foolish to do so. There was nothing positive about a broken heart.

There was something else as well and it frightened her slightly. He looked angry and she wondered what thoughts were going through his mind. "Clark…?"

He turned away from her and lifted into the sky. She followed but by the time she was back out on the balcony, he was gone.

"You fucking bastard, " Barbara swore as the Joker entered her again. He had her over the kitchen table, two of his goons holding her arms so she couldn't move. "I'm going to kill you this time, needle dick!"

"Quiet, now, you're going to wake the child," Joker responded as he pulled out and then brought a fist down on the small of her back. She gagged from the pain and he hit her again, the henchmen laughing all the while she struggled.

James was only in the next room, the corner of a wall separating him from the act of sexual carnage being perpetuated on his mother. He was with Harleen, who was explained why Alfred had to die. The sight of the butler's body had nearly sent the boy into shock.

The Joker continued to rape Barbara and she whispered a silent promise to whomever was listening, be they from heaven or hell that she would do anything to get out of this situation.

He finished and the coldness that had marked his first violation of her so many years before ate its way through her hips and abdomen. Unlike last time, however, the Joker seemed wild in that he didn't have a plan. Instead, he was like a kid in a candy store, running around causing what mayhem he could.

Barbara's concern was for her son right now and her hatred for the Joker kept her from giving in even when one of the thugs got behind to sodomize her. This time she would not cry out, she promised, this time she would not give them satisfaction. She would take the pain because as long as she acted the way the Joker expected, then James would be kept alive she was sure.

Naked, the Joker walked past Barbara and went for the telephone hanging on the wall. Humming loudly in an effort to keep the moans of the henchmen from interrupting his concentration. He punched in a telephone number that he knew as well as the date when he first became the Joker. Before that date, he had been in what he called the "pupa" stage; a failed husband, father and criminal. He almost felt a tinge of regret.

The line on the other end picked up and a female's voice answered. "Wayne residence."

The Joker walked with the phone as far away from the rape scene as possible and cleared his throat. He applied his deepest baritone. "Yes, Snidely Whiplash here to speak with Bruce Wayne."

"I'm afraid my husband is busy right now," Selina answered.

"Oh, tut-tut, my dear; him and I are old friends from the college days and I'm in Metropolis for a spell. Hoping to treat him to lunch!" She responded that she would see if he wanted to talk. The Joker waited for a few minutes and popped his head around the corner.

The sodomist was finished, but apparently his partners were not. Another thug was flipping Barbara over to commit further sexual assault while another, more sadistic man held a knife to her throat. He almost said something but decided that dead or alive, it didn't matter to him. Not now.

The endgame was afoot.

Bruce Wayne then came on the line. "This is Bruce Wayne, Mr. Whiplash. Do we know each other?"

The Joker switched his voice back to normal. "Oh, Bruce, you and I are the greatest of friends."

There was a pause. "What do you want?"

"Didn't you hear? I'm free?" he said before cackling. "Guess its time to put on the cape and cowl!"

"No. I'll call someone who cares…"

"Little Dickie? He ran off to play with the Canucks! It's only you, old buddy!"

Bruce was adamant. "Batman is dead, Joker. He cost too many their innocence and their lives. I've put the past behind me."

"Would it help if I said please?" the Joker asked. Then Bruce must have looked down at his caller ID and noticed where it was that the Joker was speaking to him from.

"She has nothing to do with this, Joker; you've done enough," he growled.

"Actually, I'm not the one doing anything to her anymore," the Joker said. As if on cue, despite herself, Barbara let out a scream of pain. "You know, it's funny but I think motherhood has made her a better fuck."

"Bastard…have you no soul? What about your son?" Bruce was by now yelling and Selina could be heard in the background asking what was wrong.

"Oh, he's alright…for a child that just viewed the hacked up body of an Englishman," the Joker whispered. Then he hung up the phone and waited. Moments later, it rang.

"I'm coming," Bruce said.