The night air is chilled while it chips away at the armor of the Bat-suit to demand its presence be felt by the vigilante that watches a weapons deal from his vantage point on a rooftop. Bruce ignores it, just like he ignores the anxiety he feels down to his bones. It's not the Penguin or his men that make him feel the way he did. He could handle them effortlessly. What has been plaguing his mind was the sensation that he was being watched wherever he went to get here. How the sound of laughter followed him where he went as he had glided through the Gotham sky. Though, the source being undetected; making him question his mental state. Self-doubt was hazardous to his health. Especially with his crusade. One slip up would be all it would take for his night to decide if he'd go home to a nice warm bed or end up in the Gotham City morgue. Bruce needed to stay focused no matter what. It just wasn't so easy this night to do so.
Movement from the rooftop across from him catches his attention from his darkening thoughts. One, of Penguin's snipers. He'd have to take them down first before proceeding. Standing to his full height, he grabs his grappling gun from his utility belt- only to be stopped when a quick flash of yellow and black catch his attention. Eyes narrowing, he watches as the thug is knocked unconscious by no other than Batgirl. For a split second he questions how she knew to come here only for the sound of someone landing behind him catches his attention.
Casting a glance behind him; he sees his former Robin. The first Robin now known as Nightwing. The missing pieces in his mind click together and a sigh escapes his lips.
"Looks like Alfred decided it would be best to share Intel with me last." Bruce states with some humor in his voice.
Dick moves closer to him. Staying silent to not give away their location to Penguin's men. His grin is wide and for the first time in three weeks, Bruce welcomes the sight.
"What can I say, the old man wanted to surprise you." He comments.
"I am," Bruce responds; turning his attention back to the mission at hand. "I could have handled this myself, you know." He couldn't stop himself from saying the words that only leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Dick crouch's down next to him; after waving to Barbara which she returns the gesture.
"Oh, I know, but nothing wrong with a little nostalgia. Is there, Bruce?" Dick teases him and Bruce simply rolls his eyes. Staying silent, prompting Dick to keep on talking. "Besides, Gotham's been pretty dull lately. You couldn't honestly expect Babs and me, to not want in on the fun of taking Penguin down. Can't save all that pleasure for yourself." He jokes, although it's the wrong thing to say at the time. He didn't mean any maliciousness in his words, but it hurts Bruce all the same.
It was rarely spoken about in the Bat-Family of the reasons why Gotham's crime had lowered to an all time low. Only, Barbara would ever bring it to light instead of leaving the implications in the shadows where it belonged. Batman has always been a violent approach to the crime this city offered. Everyone knew that. Wouldn't ever attempt to deny it. But, these past three weeks were different. Bruce was different and criminals feared him now more than ever. It should have been considered a good thing that his recent approach was so effective and in some ways it was. But, at the end of the day it still was a testament that the Batman was not himself. That he wasn't handling everything as well as he should be. And, the regretful part of him knew that Jason would have approved of his change of tact. Jason had always been quick to resort to brutality over restraint. Something, Bruce had always try to correct, but never had the chance to succeed with. In the end, his young ward had paid for that mindset with his life and Bruce was starting to follow a very similar path.
This must have been the reason why Alfred planned for this night to go this way. Why he decided to inform Batgirl and Nightwing of Penguin's plans with enough time for them to prepare before Bruce even got a whiff of information. A not so subtle way to pull him back from the edge. Although, he was thankful for the care his father figure had for him, tonight he couldn't stop from feeling a tad resentful for it as well. He didn't need reminders of how far he was falling, not when the Joker was still free and at large. Bruce needed to hold onto that vengeful wrath that was burning him inside. It kept him going. Kept him from self-destructing in self-loathing for his failures. In a horribly morbid way that feeling was his lifeline on his sanity. Or, what was left of it given the laughter he would hear when he's alone. The flashes of purple movement that he saw earlier that turned up to be nothing. Either way, despite, how tired Bruce was, he'd only truly rest when he finally dealt with the Joker.
Dick sensing Bruce's brooding mood decides it's best to switch gears on the goal at hand. He interrupts Bruce's thoughts by saying, "Doesn't Penguin seem a bit off to you tonight? Normally, he's all cocky, acting like he's on top of the world, by what I remember, but now.." a pause as if he's not sure how to explain it. Bruce luckily helps him out.
"I've noticed," He states. Which was true. He did notice and was cautious about the sudden demeanor change. An unforeseeable variable that he needed to take into account. A small percentage of him wanted to write it off as the crime boss being paranoid of the weapons deal not going off without a hitch. A reasoning that seemed plausible given how much Robin had been ruining his plans for the past few months. Yet, that didn't seem right to him. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something else at play here. Penguin looked way to nervous or more accurately terrified. Casting glances around everywhere and even in the dark, sweat glistened off his white dress shirt viewable by the hanging light-polls. Penguin wasn't in his right mind tonight. That was obvious. He didn't like the factored in unpredictability, but he wouldn't let that get in the way of his goals.
The com-link in his cowl sparked to life and Barbara's voice made it out clear to both links for Bruce and Dick.
"Are we doing this or not? I have a test tomorrow that I still have to study for and I don't want to go home smelling like the pier if I can help it. My father would have a field day with that one." Her voice is sarcastically playful. Another reminder for Bruce of how much he truly did miss working with the two of them almost nightly. Some static and then she adds, "Unless you boys, want to sit back and watch me take care of this? That works for me too. You both might learn something new." Dick lets out a small chuckle at that one that Bruce shoots him a glare of warning to keep quiet.
"Well, are we ready old man?" Dick teases Bruce.
"I'm not that old," Bruce states; standing to his full height and Dick follows suite. Tapping the side of his cowl for Barbara can hear him as well. "On the count of three, one,"
"Two," Dick adds. Cracking his neck and getting one stretch out before the fight begins.
"Three." Barbara speaks through the com link.
And, that's when the chaos starts. Bruce drops a smoke bomb bellow to disorient the unprepared men. As always, it does the intended trick and all three vigilantes land to the ground below. Dick pulling off several flips because he could, while Barbara and Bruce glide down. It takes four seconds for five men to be incapacitated on their arrival. Shouts are heard on the wind. Gunshots following shortly after only for a couple to be stopped a few seconds later. Bones twist and break. Men fall to the ground unconscious in spades or screaming in pain and unable to fight back anymore. And, for the first time in weeks Bruce is finally feeling like himself again.
"God damnit! One of you kill the Bat already!" Penguin shouts as he opens fire; not caring one bit who he hits just as long as it would eventually hit its mark.
Despite, being under heavy fire the advantage stays in the three vigilantes favor. Punches make contact, kicks delivered and batarangs are thrown. Nothing seems to slow the Bat-Family down. Working with each other in a sort of dance that was mastered over the years. When they were together they were unstoppable. A fact, Bruce has learned years ago, but distances himself from remembering as much as he could. Their team up wouldn't last. He knew that deep down. Soon, Dick would return to his own city, and Batgirl would patrol Gotham by herself again. As for Bruce, he'd end up alone when that time came. Something, he was used to in the early years and most likely wouldn't impact him in to much of a negative light. At the same time he feels solemn about it. As he snaps a thugs arm like a twig, he can't help but almost be washed away in his growing emotions. Making his movements slightly sloppy. Just enough for a tire iron to hit him in the back of the head.
The force would have split his skull wide open if he didn't have the protection his cowl. Regardless, it does make his vision temporarily blurry, still, it doesn't stop him from spinning on his heel, delivering a swiping kick and knocking the man who hit him to the ground. Just in time for Batgirl to deliver a kick of her own to the man's head and leaving him unconscious. The action made him dizzy. But, the fighting continued on as usual. However, with a pounding headache comes flashes of something or more accurately someone that makes Bruce lose even more concentration.
Red, yellow and green are the colors he makes out. The form of a child taking down thugs with techniques he's learned from Bruce. And, he can't believe what he's seeing. It's only flashes that appear and vanish just as quickly during the fight, but it changes the Bat. Makes him faster. More brutal in his takedowns. Trying to reach the child that keeps appearing and disappearing from sight. His mind going on autopilot. He can hear laughter ringing in his ears. The same type of laughter he would hear when he took Jason out as Robin for the first few months and the child would be excited for winning a fight. It's a pleasant sound and one he terribly missed. He must be going crazy. No one else seems to notice what he is seeing and it makes him angrier. Violent. An ever growing madness that wants to corrupt his every fiber. The colors change with his mood and no longer does he see the child that he failed, but flashes of purple and green. Catching small sights of a ruby painted smile that was recently haunting his nightmares. The Batman lunges towards the sight. Hits something more solid and knocks both himself and his target to the ground. Punches flow instinctually. Feeling something crack under his fist. His vision is tunneled. All he sees is that smile. And, then suddenly, he's yanked back roughly by two arms. His body wanting to retaliate only for a familiar voice to bring him back to the present.
"Batman, that's enough. He's down. Stop." It's Dick calling to him and Bruce goes stiff in his arms. Head clearing of the fog he was in, only to be left horrified by his actions. Penguin lays there at his feet. Bleeding profusely from wounds on his face. Unmoving. Looking like he's dead. And, that thought terrifies him more than anything.
"I, didn't.. I thought..." he doesn't know what to say. And, Dick finally lets him go when the fight leaves Batman's body. Dick steps to his side, but just like Bruce it looks like he doesn't know what to say either. He welcomes the silence. Needs it as he can't tear his blue eyes away from what he's done.
Barbara checks on Penguin. Informs them both that he's alive, but will probably need medical treatment. Bruce barely hears her. Casting glances at the other men on the ground and instantly knowing which ones he took down over his allies. Wondering how many he's crippled this time around.
"Batman, it's alright." Dick tries to say after he contacts James Gordon himself since Bruce isn't in the mental space to do it.
"No, it's not, Dick." He whispers quietly for only the three of them to hear.
"I'm sorry to say this, but Bruce is right," Barbara places herself into the conversation that neither wanted her in right now. However, her honesty although blunt, is needed given the direness of the situation. "He went to far."
"It was just a slip up," Dick shakes his head. Trying to reason with himself. Even if he cringes at the sight at hand of the aftermath of Bruce's violence. "A loss of control. It's understandable. After-" Bruce never hears the end of that sentence. Because, it was in that moment was when he decided to look towards the skyline. Seeing someone looking down at them with a huge grin plastered on his chalk-white face. The Joker was there and Bruce reacted immediately, grappling up and leaving both his allies to clean up his mess.
They don't follow him.
Perhaps, they should have.
Bruce felt his adrenaline surge in the few seconds it took for the force of his grappling gun to pull him up into the sky. Already, letting his mind drift from his actions on the ground below. Being carried away into the air as his own body was. He was close. So, close to catching the Joker that he wouldn't let anything else interfere right now. Not his self-loathing or his slipping grasp on the world around him. All he needed was to feel the clowns bones break under his fist. Spill his blood on the ground like what had been done to Jason. The ledge of the roof is about two seconds away and in that time he imagines close to twenty different scenarios for how'd he take down the clown. Each one more violent than the last. His hands grab the ledge; yanks himself up ready to act out the imagery in his mind. Only to have his sanity slip away from him faster than a bullet piercing the wind and going straight into a person's heart.
He could have reasoned away the clown disappearing from his sight like earlier that night. Even reasoned that it might have been his exhausted mind that made him see the clown during the fight only to be proven wrong. What he does see, he has no explanation other than, perhaps, he's finally earned himself a padded room in Arkham. For standing on the roof isn't the clown at all. But, his former deceased partner Jason Todd. Looking almost as awful as when Bruce found his body. His right arm is missing. Blood still dripping from the wound, but when Bruce looks down he doesn't see any droplets of crimson on the ground where it should be. There's the carved smile in his face. And, even if the cuts made him look like he was smiling all the time, Bruce is certain that he actually is right now. He holds a crowbar in his hand. That has fresh wet blood on it. His eyes are different however. In a way that Bruce holds onto to stop himself from falling off the ledge to plummet into lunacy. For one eye is a glassy blue, and the other a vibrant yellow.
"Jason," the name leaves his mouth an airy whisper. Jason doesn't look at him. Places his on foot over the ledge, hand holding the crowbar relaxed at his knee as he looks over the building. He lets out a small snicker. And, Bruce's heart races in his chest.
"You really showed them who's boss, didn't you, Bruce?" Jason says with slight admiration in his tone that makes Bruce feel even worse for his actions. Guilt was a slow killer for him and it seemed the child wanted to tear it all out of him. "Not holding back as much anymore. I see. Almost like I did," He turns towards Bruce, tapping the crowbar against the ledge. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard for Bruce. Jason gives a small jerky shrug. "Close enough, anyway. We both know, I would have gone farther. Made them take months to wake up," a terse pause. "If they ever would. I may have never killed, but I wanted to. Just like you do. But, you always stopped me," He moves away from the ledge turning his full attention on the Bat. "Why'd you stop me, Bruce?" He asks and the tone is accusatory. Sharp and biting. Meant to rend his mind apart.
"I wanted to protect you." He almost states that he wanted to protect Jason from himself. From the darkness that was always waiting underneath the surface. But, even the words now are like he's swallowing cyanide. A cruel reminder that he failed in that goal in more ways than one. A laugh leaves the child that does not sound like Jason's, but the one he's heard for weeks now instead.
"Well, you did a real bang-up job there!" He exclaims more cheerful than he should have sounded for that type of statement. "How can you claim to have wanted to protect me when you casted me in the role that needed to be replaced after Dick left? Does it really seem like a bright idea to let a child fight hardened criminals?" The crowbar is lifted to point at Bruce. "Isn't that just a little crazy sounding, Bruce?" Another guffaw escapes from Jason. His voice more distorted. As if it wasn't real to begin with.
Despite, the accusation Bruce knew that wasn't the reason he took Jason in, in the first place. He never intended to have another Robin after Dick. It more of just sorta happened that way when Jason figured out who he was during that first month. All he wanted was to help the child on a better path. To not become a criminal. Jason already had enough guts to steal the tires from the Batmobile, there was just no way of knowing the lengths he could have gone if he became a criminal. It didn't make the guilt leave him. Or, the regrets of letting Jason become the second Robin in the first place. But, Bruce couldn't change the past, no matter how much he might want to. He takes a small step forward and that's when the child's body jerks unnaturally at Bruce's sudden movement. Seeming unable to appear normal at all anymore. That catches Bruce's intrigue immediately. He already knew something wasn't right, but now he wasn't so sure if it's just his mental state to blame this time around. Jason seems to read this and keeps talking for more of a distraction from Bruce's observations than anything else.
"Wanna know something?" He doesn't wait for Bruce to respond. "That night you didn't save me," Bruce's heart aches at the reminder which Jason's grin widens at the noticeable wince the other makes. "I nearly beat a man to death with this crowbar here," he rests it against his shoulder then, but Bruce is more focused on Jason's eyes. Yellow starts to form around the blue; making both almost match in color. "The ONLY reason I didn't was because I wanted to make you proud. Should have known better that was an impossibility." A heartbeat passes. A growled out. "No," He states angrily now. Regardless, Bruce feels it's more feigned than genuine. "You should have been trying to make me proud instead. That's how things between us should have gone. It wasn't me that brought me into your games. Which means you should have made it more enjoyable to play! But, now, oh yes, now you can," the eyes were completely yellow now. Gleaming with sadistic mirth.
"You. Are. Not. Jason." Bruce finally speaks up. Done with the charade of who this stranger was. And, he had a strong feeling that this wasn't a stranger at all. That he was almost positive who was playing this trick on him even if he didn't have the proof. Other than those eyes. He once thought he'd seen eyes change into that shade once before. In a cemetery.
A chuckle and when Bruce blinks Jason is standing in front of him. Crowbar aimed for a strike that he won't have enough time to dodge. "True, I'm not the kiddo, in a manner of speaking. But," A pause and his smile grows, and Bruce can see needle like teeth in his mouth. Inhuman in every way possible. "In a way. I'm all that remains of your little birdy," a cold laugh penetrates the air. Hiding a darker meaning behind the sound. His yellow gaze is sharp as he finally exclaims with all the happiness of a psychopath. "Let's play together from now on, Batsss." And, the blow that hits his chest is like taking a hit from Killer Croc, but worst. Stronger than what a normal human can do and Bruce is knocked off the ledge. Falling down towards the ground below as yellow glowing eyes watch his decent with excitement.
A promise of more nights like this to follow.
Whether Bruce likes it or not.
The Joker didn't care as long as he had his fun.
Two months have passed since Jason's murder. The crime that had lowered in that event now was at an all time high. Making, Bruce feel like he just came out of the frying pan and into the fire. Dealing, with Jason's murderer was one thing, not that he saw the clown since the incident on the roof, if that was him, though he didn't doubt it anymore. Now, a gang war had broken out in the streets of Gotham that was taking all his attention away from what he needed to do. Leaving, Bruce even more exhausted each night and properly paranoid of when the clown would resurface again. His taunting promise playing on repeat in his mind. Making a promise of his own that next time he would be prepared, no matter what tricks the clown might try.
Batman watches James Gordon pace around in front of the Bat-symbol. Smoking his third cigarette since Gotham's protector arrived. Stress radiating off of him palpable.
"It's night like these that I want to retire," Jim says and Bruce could understand the sentiment.
"It wouldn't be the same without you." Bruce replies and receives a not rude scoff at the statement.
"Yeah, I know. That's the problem," he sighs, dragging a hand down his face. "Not like the boys in blue down there would even notice my absence," he sounds bitter and Bruce can tell there is more that he's not saying. He doesn't want to question him out right as their partnership was on shaky ground lately due to Bruce's more violent streak these days.
"I doubt that." He replies instead.
"Haven't been paying that much attention then." Jim fires back. Harshly with misplaced anger.
"Not all of them are corrupt," Bruce starts to say only to be cut off this time around.
"That's not what I'm saying. Not this time," Jim's tone is way to uneasy for Bruce. And, he can't hold back his questions any longer.
"What's happening, Jim?" It's the right question to ask. And, the stricken look he receives makes Bruce wonder for a fraction of a second if he should retire himself. Not that he ever could see that day actually happening. He'd probably meet his end as Batman one night and it's a simple fact of life that's he's accepted fully.
"I don't know how to explain it, Batman," he lights up his fourth cigarette trying to take a moment to gain the words he needs. Shoulders sagging in an unspoken defeat that he must have felt for a while now and Bruce is left disappointed in himself for not seeing the signs earlier. Jim is getting closer to his breaking point. Another sentiment the Bat feels, even if he won't admit it. "Everyone I work with seems to be forgetting things, except for me. Cases, things of that nature."
"Forgetting?" He asks bewildered by the choice of word. A shiver running down his spine.
"Yes, at first, I just thought they were just getting distracted by finally having the time to tackle past cases that have been sitting in storage for months now," He shoots the Bat vigilante a knowing look that Bruce ignores. "Though, that doesn't make much sense these days. Crime is at a record high now. And, that's saying something for Gotham."
That was still an understatement and one Bruce has been made painfully aware of. It wasn't just the gang war raging on in the streets, but every crime seemed to have upped the ante. Rapes, murders, theft, and even missing people had skyrocketed after that night the Bat-family took down Penguin. Like a violent plague has taken a grasp of Gotham and wouldn't let go. Spewing poison into people's veins; making them more prone to violence. Bruce didn't know then how right that thought actually was. He couldn't have known at this time that he lived in essence of a playground for a malicious ageless force. That said force who had all intentions of making Batman his playmate.
"Yet, none of them have bat-an-eye to any of it," a beat. "Sorry for the unintended pun," it's a poor attempt at a joke to try and cleat the darkening mood that doesn't work in the slightest, so Gordon just continues his explanation. "Every single time I bring up any of the ever growing cases, none remember ever hearing about them at all even if they were told during briefing. It's like they just can't be bothered to care. All of them seem different. Worse. Uninterested. For crying out loud. Even the murder of Bruce Wayne's ward doesn't pipe their interest. It's always been bad in the GCPD, but never this bad." Gordon finishes, stomping out his smoke that he finished quickly during his rant. Reaching to pull out another one only to stop himself and letting out a sigh.
For Bruce the information he received doesn't sit well for him, because in a way it's hits way too close to home with what he has been experiencing with Alfred lately. The older man had just out of the blue started to forget about Jason Todd almost entirely. Even though Jason's room hasn't been altered since his death, Alfred still goes in there to clean, yet is oblivious to who owned the room in the first place. It was a concern that was gripping Bruce, Dick and Barbara with dread that the older man's age was finally catching up with him in the worst possible way. Yet, even a doctor's visit proved nothing was medically wrong. A mystery that kept Bruce from sleeping even more than the ever present growing crime sprees did. Almost, keeping Batman from going out at night entirely, however Alfred wouldn't allow that. Not in regards to himself. Denying that anything was a problem. But, something was wrong. And, that was more obvious now than ever by what Gordon has informed him. People were forgetting important information. Becoming placid to the city's expanding cruelty around them. The question that was plaguing his every thought was, why this was happening and who was responsible.
The Image of the Joker flashed through his mind.
"Jim, I need to ask you something," he speaks up suddenly. Startling the older of the two.
"Yeah?" Jim sounds as uneasy as Bruce felt.
"In those cases have there been any mentions of a clown being spotted?" Bruce asks. Hoping he was on the right track and the look he receives doesn't fully bode well for him.
"A clown? Not that I'm aware, but I haven't looked at everything as of yet," a pause, followed by a groan. "Don't tell me we have another costumed freak on our hands." Bruce has to ignore that jibe at his expense.
"Look into it for me, will you?" Is what he responds. Needing to know if his suspicions are correct. He's not sure what he'll do if they are, but he'll handle it when the time comes. Everything in his mind screamed at him that the Joker was behind everything. How that was possible didn't logically make much sense, but the connections seemed to indicate that it was. Bruce wasn't going to start doubting himself. Not after what he's experienced the past two months. All he knew was that he was determined to put a stop to all the madness embracing his city in a suffocating abyss. The Joker wouldn't win if he had a say in the matter and Bruce was positive that he did.
"Sure thing." Jim agrees. Deciding he'll actually need that other cigarette he looks down to pull out his pack. Only to not be surprised that the Dark Knight is gone when he looks up again. "Every single time." He mutters to himself. Lighting the smoke and inhaling the unhealthy substance into his lungs.
Jim stays there. Resting his back against the Bat-Symbol, that he personally got put up himself. Contemplating on the nature that Gotham City had. It wasn't like any previous city that he's lived in before. As a police officer before coming to Gotham he never would have thought that he'd have to deal with the things he does now. As commissioner in this city's police force, that changed that outlook. Everything changed in what seemed like a blink of an eye. Costumed vigilantes that he has formed a somewhat rocky friendship with and costumed villains that threatened the lives he swore to protect almost nightly. Gotham was an oddity alright and part of him wishes he never moved here. Yet, at the same time he wouldn't have it any other way. He flicks his smoke to the ground. Shakes his head to clear his mind and is ready to tackle the task Batman has asked of him. However, when he turns to shut off the Bat-Signal he nearly jumps out of skin by what wasn't there before. And, knew that wasn't there the whole time he was up on the roof.
For painted on the Bat-Signal in green spray paint is a smiley face. Mocking the beacon of hope that light was supposed to bring to all the innocents in Gotham City. The part that scares him is he can't even fathom who could have done it. How someone must have been up there with him and the Bat and neither man noticed a single thing. That couldn't be. The impossibility crippling his mind.
Gordon is reminded of how Batman asked about a clown and could only wonder now if something else was going on in this city that he couldn't ever possibly grasp in understanding.
He's also not sure if he ever wants to.
He flips the light off, no longer able to look at it.
Leaves the roof and the last bit of hope that light once brought to him along with it.