"Well, you've done it now," said Joker, shaking his head at Batman. "Killing poor Harvey like that. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy about it – glad you finally became a man and actually killed someone. But I was kinda hoping for someone more important to you than Harvey. Sure, he was a former colleague, but I was really hoping you'd snap and murder a friend or loved one. I guess there's still time for that."
"Leave me alone!" roared Batman, throwing the gun away and burying his face in his hands, trying to drown out Joker's voice and Joker's presence, which he could feel gripping tighter and tighter onto his mind. He opened his eyes and was brought back to reality with a bump when he saw the body of Commissioner Gordon in front of him. He knelt down beside it. "Jim," he whispered. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, Batman," said a voice, and Batman turned to see Aaron Cash studying him from the cell. "You ok?" he asked, softly.
"No," murmured Batman. "No, I'm not. I've lost more tonight than I can bear. And before tonight is over, I'm afraid…I'll lose myself."
"I understand," said Cash, gently. "I can only imagine the stuff you've seen, and Lord knows I've seen a lot. I know what it's like to go out there every night, to see things most people couldn't imagine, horrible sights and sounds you can never forget. But you're one of the good guys, Batman. And we need good guys out there."
"You don't understand, Cash," whispered Batman. "I'm not one of the good guys. Not anymore. I killed someone," he whispered, staring at Two-Face's body. "And I'm afraid…I'm afraid I'll kill more people tonight."
"If it's this Arkham Night guy, I'm behind you 100%," said Cash. "He may technically be a kid, but he's old enough to know what he's doing."
"If I'm at the stage of judging whether somebody's worthy of death or not, then I've already lost myself," whispered Batman. "I never believed in killing people, Cash. I believed that all life was valuable, even twisted and evil life. But I killed Harvey as an act of vengeance, and I will never be able to recover from that. I've become what I always fought against."
Cash said nothing. "When people in this job witness or do something traumatic, it's mandatory that they see a psychiatrist before returning to work," he said. "Someone to talk to, to work through the pain. Do you have someone you can talk to, Batman?"
"Yes," said Batman, slowly. "Yes, I do. I…I don't talk to him as much as I should, but he…understands what's going on with me."
"You should go talk to him now," said Cash. "Maybe he can help."
"I don't think anyone can help me now," murmured Batman. "But he may be able to save me from doing worse tonight."
He slowly rose to his feet, and unlocked Cash's cell door. "Thank you," he said, handing him the key to unlock the others. "I guess you're in charge now."
"I guess so," sighed Cash. "Not the kinda way I wanted to get a promotion. But GCPD has got your back, Batman. Until the end," he said, laying a hand on his shoulder.
"Until the end," repeated Batman, turning away from him and leaving the building.
"He's right, you know," said Joker, skipping along next to him. "You should have seen a shrink a long time ago. Harley could have helped if you just sat down and talked with her about the whole dead parents thing. She's an expert at dealing with trauma, probably more so now that she had to deal with the trauma of my death. Maybe there's still time to request a session with her when you find her."
Batman ignored him, heading for the Batmobile. "So you're giving up on rescuing Robin and Oracle in order to go talk to Alfred, huh?" asked Joker. "Seems like a mistake to me – you should be focused on figuring out where they're being kept. There had to be some clue on that footage my kiddo played…"
"Yes, and I need to return to the Batcave to analyze it," interrupted Batman. "The whole thing was recorded via my helmet, but I need the giant screen in the Batcave to zoom in on it so I can see details without them being too blurry to make out. And while I'm there, I'll talk to Alfred. Cash is right. If I'm going to face the Arkham Night, I have to do it when I'm mentally strong and stable. I spent years training my body to be strong, and my will to be strong. But every year since my parents died, and even more so since you died, I've sunk deeper and deeper into mental weakness, depression, and darkness. And I never confronted it, because the one thing I always feared was the darkness within myself. I need to be able to work through that with someone I trust, to process it, and find a way to move forward so I can save the people I love. Alfred's the only one who can help me with that. If not…"
He trailed off. "If not what?" asked Joker.
"If not, I'll send the location of the Arkham Night to Cash," said Batman. "I'll trust the GCPD to handle rescuing Robin and Oracle. And that way I don't risk losing control of myself again, because Alfred will…"
He trailed off again. "Alfred will what?" repeated Joker. "I'm inside your mind, you know – you don't have to finish your thoughts aloud for me to know 'em. And trust me, that's a bad thought you're having now, Bats. We need to see this through to the end, no matter what that end is. It's our responsibility, all of it. Mine because it's my kid who's leading this, and you because you're the reason my kid is leading this. If you hadn't killed me, maybe Harley and I would have gone off somewhere nice and quiet to raise the kid – maybe finding a higher purpose like that would have stopped my life of crime in its tracks. But thanks to you killing me, it's continued on, and it's cost you more than I ever could have. You always want your children to be more successful than you," he sighed. "I mean, you wouldn't know this, Batsy, since your surrogate children are all dead or kidnapped, but there's really no better feeling in the world than the sense of pride you get at seeing your child's accomplishments."
Batman started the Batmobile's engine, painfully reminded of Robin and Oracle, and praying that no further harm would come to them.
…
"Ok, Dr. Crane, break time!" exclaimed the Arkham Night, striding into the room where Scarecrow sat, calmly observing Oracle and taking notes on her erratic screaming, while Harley was humming to herself and splashing some paint on the walls. "How much have you injected her with?"
"We stopped at 600 milliliters – I fear anymore could permanently damage her mind at this point," said Crane. "And I know you were opposed to that for some reason."
"Well, for truly effective permanent damage, you've got to take it slow," said J.J., shrugging. "Build up hope, break it down, and repeat. That's how Daddy broke Jason Todd, isn't that right, Mommy?"
"That's right, sweetie!" exclaimed Harley, skipping over to him and kissing his cheek. "How do you like the paintings?" she asked, gesturing around.
"You always were a great interior decorator, Mommy," said J.J., embracing her. "You have so many talents it's unreal."
"Thanks, baby," she said, kissing his nose. "He's such a sweet boy, isn't he?" she sighed, turning to Crane.
"Yes, very thoughtful," agreed Crane, closing his notebook. "How much time do you want to give the patient to recover?"
"Oh, a good couple hours," said J.J. "I brought her a present to make her feel better – bring it in!" he called. A second later, the henchmen dragged Robin into the room, throwing him down on the ground in front of Oracle.
"Oh my God, Barb, are you ok?" gasped Robin, struggling to his feet and bending over her. She instantly recoiled, shrieking in terror.
"The effects of the toxin will take some time to work out of her system," spoke up Crane. "I would advise staying away from her until then, for her own sake. She probably just sees you as some sort of demon right now."
"You son of a…" began Robin, whirling around to face Scarecrow, who held up his glove.
"I wouldn't come near me, brat, unless you want to join your sweetheart in terror," he said. "It can be arranged."
"Now why don't we all just calm down?" asked J.J. "I know you're working through a lot of feelings, Robin, but the most overwhelming feeling of all should be gratitude on your part. I could have killed you back at GCPD, or your wife anytime. But I didn't."
"Why?" demanded Robin. "Because you're saving us for something worse, is that it? Some horrible death you want Batman to witness, so you can break him? Because that's what this is all about – Barb and me don't matter to you unless we can be used to hurt Batman."
"Obviously," said J.J., shrugging. "But there's no reason why you have to die in order to hurt him. My father taught me that pain comes in many forms, and the most debilitating pain isn't death. It's the pain of those left behind after death. Batman should know that if anyone does."
"So you want a fate worse than death for us?" asked Robin.
"Well, that's all a matter of perspective, isn't it?" asked J.J. "What is a fate worse than death, after all? Mommy would say it's being alive when the man you loved madly is dead, isn't that right, Mommy?"
"Yes, but I had you, baby," murmured Harley, stroking his hair back. "I always had you to make the pain bearable."
"You see, I'm not a monster, Robin," said J.J. "And I'm actually interested in the exact same thing your boss is – justice. Batman made my mother suffer by killing the man she loved, but even in her darkest depths of despair, she still had me to love in his place. I will be extending the same courtesy to your Bat-family. I will inflict pain on it, but I will be merciful in leaving a glimmer of hope and love amidst the pain. That's justice for what happened to my family, and that's all I've ever wanted. That's why I look like Batman, you see," he added, gesturing to his armor. "I'm a symbol of his failure in stopping crime, but I'm also carrying on his work in justice. I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a hero, but like him, I'm driven by deep love, not for a city, but for a person," he said, embracing his mother tightly. "A person so sweet and kind and loving, who didn't deserve to suffer the agony she did. I'm doing all this because I love her. You have to agree it's a noble cause."
"I believe you love your mother," agreed Robin. "But I also think love can be horrible – a malevolent, hateful force that seeks to destroy others and blinds itself to the harm it does in the name of compassion. That's what Harley felt for Joker – it was a sick, twisted, perverted love directed solely and obsessively at one person, a monster in this case. And she didn't care how many people died because of that love, how many people she helped kill, how many others she deprived of love because she selfishly believed hers was the most important. That's what you're doing. You're using your love as an excuse to commit the most horrible and depraved acts, and to destroy another human being completely and utterly. But you can't see what you're doing is wrong, because you're blinded by love. I don't blame you – you're still a child, and a child loves its mother devotedly and unconditionally. But this is wrong, J.J. It's not justice, what you're doing to Batman or to Barb. It's vengeance, and it will never bring you or your mother peace."
J.J. stared at him, his eyes wide with a look of sudden realization. "You know, you're right, Robin," he murmured, slowly. "It…it won't bring us peace, will it, Mommy?"
"No," agreed Harley, shaking her head, her eyes also wide and teary. "So we'd better stop now before this goes any further. Just think, if someone had said those words to me a long time ago, I wouldn't have wasted my life the way I have. Thank you for helping me see the light, Robin," she said, turning to him. "You're a true hero."
They both suddenly burst out laughing. "Psych!" shouted J.J. "I love the look on your face – so hopeful! As if you truly believed we weren't joking, that your eloquence had somehow gotten through to us and saved us! Oh my God, it's too easy to prank these hero types, Mommy!" he giggled, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"It is, sweetie!" agreed Harley. "But they never learn!"
"You think you're the first person to talk to me like that, Robin?" J.J. asked, grinning at him. "You think because of that little speech, I'd suddenly have an epiphany and just magically change my mind about all this? You think I haven't heard words like that a thousand times?"
"Not from your mother, certainly," retorted Robin.
"Oh, it hasn't always just been me and Mommy," said J.J., smiling at her. "I grew up with Mommy and her friend Ivy taking care of me. You remember Poison Ivy, I'm sure. I used to call her Aunt Ivy, and she was always around when I was little, helping Mommy around the house, playing with me, and talking to her. And sometimes when she talked to Mommy, Mommy would start crying, because Aunt Ivy would be mean. She would say things about Daddy that upset Mommy so much, things like you just said. How her love for him was bad and wrong, how she had a chance to turn things around now, to make sure I didn't repeat the mistakes of my father. Aunt Ivy had long ago stopped caring about humanity at large, you see. She lived in the middle of the rainforest, and would spend her days looking after the plants that grew there, defending them when humans tried to chop them down, but otherwise living a fairly peaceful existence. She wanted Mommy to do the same, to forget about her life of crime and violence in Gotham, to begin again as someone better, someone who could give a brighter future to her son, not drag him back into the darkness of this city. She told Mommy to forget about Daddy, but Mommy could never do that. She loved him too much, you see. And the more Aunt Ivy told her to forget about him, the more she couldn't. Her love for him grew even stronger despite Aunt Ivy's efforts to destroy it – maybe even because of them. Mommy began to ignore Aunt Ivy's words, to shut down the conversation whenever Aunt Ivy said anything like that to her. She refused to respond or engage with her at all. But she was still upset by what Aunt Ivy said, I could see that. Sometimes I would sneak into Mommy's bedroom at night to see her crying alone, deep, racking sobs that broke my heart. Anyone who could do that to Mommy, to my beautiful, precious Mommy, clearly had no heart. So I made Aunt Ivy stop talking about Daddy like that."
"What…did you do to her?" asked Robin, slowly.
"She wasn't expecting it," murmured J.J., his eyes alight. "But she had taught me that sometimes it was necessary to chop down weeds, weeds that choked pretty flowers, so that beautiful things could grow. So that's what I did to her. I took an axe and waited until she was asleep and just chopped and chopped and kept chopping until she stopped screaming."
"He killed her for me," sighed Harley, gazing at J.J. adoringly. "Just like Mr. J would have killed anyone who hurt me. And I knew then that it didn't matter what I wanted, not really – J.J. was just like his Daddy. Nothing I could do could change that, even if I wanted to, which I didn't. Mr. J would always just do what he wanted – there was no controlling him. And there's no controlling his son."
"And speaking of no controlling, surprise!" shouted J.J., as Crane suddenly injected a syringe into Robin's neck. He had been transfixed in horror by J.J.'s narrative, and hadn't noticed Crane sneaking up behind him. Robin hissed in pain, falling to his knees.
"You're a coward, Crane!" hissed Robin, glaring up at him. "Fear gassing me while I'm distracted!"
"Oh, that wasn't fear gas!" giggled J.J. "That was something very special just for you. A little project I've been working on while I've been here, perfecting its effects, which you should begin to feel soon. And with that cheery thought, we'll leave you two lovebirds alone!" he chuckled, heading for the door. "Don't get up to anything too naughty! Or maybe do, since it's probably the last time you'll get to enjoy each other's company. Assuming you're both able to enjoy each other's company while incapacitated," he added, grinning. "See you later!"
"Boss, where do you want the bodies?" asked a henchman, who was waiting outside the room as J.J., Harley, and Crane left it, shutting the door behind him.
"Oh yeah, let me show you!" said J.J. "Follow me!"
"Bodies?" repeated Crane. "Whose bodies?"
"Well, sadly not Harvey's," sighed J.J. "But we can go back and get him after we destroy GCPD later. We didn't really have time to collect his after Batsy shot him."
"What?" gasped Crane, stunned. "Batman…shot Harvey?"
"In the faces!" chuckled J.J. "Kinda a shame to lose Harv, but the more Batman murders, the better, right? Anyway, we'll worry about him later – just bring Nygma and Nightwing."
"I don't think…you informed me of this part of the plan," said Crane, slowly. "Where my fellow Rogues would…die."
"Well, I don't have to tell you everything, do I?" laughed J.J. "You're not my father. And there are casualties in war, y'know."
"Why do you want the bodies?" asked Crane. "Some sort of scientific experiment? Or autopsy, maybe?"
"No need – I know how they died," replied J.J., smiling at him. "We just want them for a little interior decorating."
"I don't understand…" began Crane.
"I think you will soon, Craney," said Harley, patting him on the back. "Smart guy like you should be able to figure it out. C'mon, baby," she said, taking J.J.'s hand and heading off into the darkness, with the henchmen following, carrying two bodies with sheets draped over them.
Crane stared after them, feeling fear, a feeling which had long since deserted him, began to prickle over his body and steal around his heart. It was the creeping awareness that he had misunderstood this game he was playing, a game which had now become terribly real, and which could only end in death. And which he suddenly realized he was in danger of losing.