Gotham shook as Bruce and Jerome drove through its streets. A quick look past the harbor confirmed Bruce's worst fear. The bridges had collapsed. All of the cars parked along them, trying desperately to escape, had fallen into the icy water below. Bruce was mortified, but he had even greater things to worry about now. The address Jerome had directed him to pulled into view, but there wasn't much to see. It was a derelict old building and had nothing remarkable about it. Graffiti coated the brick walls. It looked abandoned.
"Are you sure this is it?" Bruce asked Jerome skeptically.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't believe me, just read the side of the building."
A scan of the building revealed peeling black letters that confirmed that Jerome was correct. Bruce took one last look at the note before tearing it in half. They opened their respective doors and got out of the Mustang. Once again, Bruce locked the car with care. He definitely didn't trust this neighborhood, but he was pretty sure if it came down to it, the vehicle could probably defend itself. They walked towards the building and pushed the heavy concrete door open. Inside, it was dimly lit and dust motes floated through the musty atmosphere. Bruce jumped when a loud click echoed through the room. Suddenly, the far wall was being projected with an image.
Alfred was screaming. The chair he was strapped to shook as he tried to escape. The blood running out of his mouth coupled with his wild eyes made for an image that would haunt Bruce for years to come. He started to yell Alfred's name and Jerome pulled him into a tight hug, trying to shelter him from the image amplified on the wall.
"Hello Bruce...and Jerome." Jeremiah's monotone voice rang out from speakers placed around the room. "It's about time you arrived, I was getting worried that you wouldn't show up. It took you an awfully long time to get here, and I sincerely hope it wasn't because of Jerome's directions. After all, it's obvious it wasn't the car's fault. It'd be a shame if Jerome seduced you just to gain your trust. Then again, after all of the other stunts he's pulled concerning you, this would be rather minor in comparison."
Jerome's hold around Bruce tightened as he responded. "Oh wonderful. You're seeping poison into his ears just like you did to mom's. It's becoming your trademark. In fact, I'd go get some papers to claim it and make sure nobody else files rights under the 'toxic know-it-all' section of the patent office."
"Now is not the best time to attempt to insult me, brother, as I have the ability to torture the poor boy's manservant to death. You wouldn't want to have that on your conscious, would you? Although it probably wouldn't add much; you already have the deaths of dozens on your hands, after all."
Bruce was sick of them arguing at a time like this. "Jeremiah, tell me how to reach Alfred or I'll kill you myself."
"Hmm. You've gathered some confidence since the last time we spoke. Fascinating. I'll analyze what caused the sudden change when you and I are alone once more. For now, directions." A door reminiscent to that of a storage unit's clattered upward, revealing a dark passageway. "You both know how fond I am of labyrinths. As mine was destroyed in my attempts to kill James Gordon, I decided to build a new one. Make it to the end and there you'll find your butler. But I'll remind you once more, time is of the essence. I'm speaking to you directly now, Bruce. I hope that you aren't mislead this time. Alfred is depending on it. If you fail miserably, you're welcome to call upon my help. I'd be happy to guide you through the maze. All I need is an apology and renouncement of my brother. And I do hope you enjoy yourself. I poured an incredible amount of time and love into this puzzle. Adieu." There was the muffled buzz of feedback and then the room was silent. The projection of Alfred disappeared along with Jeremiah's voice.
"Come on." He grabbed Jerome's upper arm and pulled him through the narrow opening. They wandered down a set of stairs and through the twists and turns of the corridor in complete darkness. It didn't bother Bruce that much, but Jerome became gradually more agitated the farther they went.
"How much longer do ya think this goes on? I mean, I know we're underground and all now, but isn't the point of mazes to have several paths?"
"I'm going to guess that there's some sort of trick up ahead. Right now we're being lulled into a false sense of security. It's basic psychology."
"Aww look at our little Brucie taking tips from the detectives he idolizes so much," Jerome gushed.
"Jerome, you're allowed to be nervous, you know."
Jerome laughed. "Bruce, if I were nervous I'd be checking behind my back every three seconds."
"But...you are checking behind your back every three seconds."
"Nah it's every four seconds. Completely different. That's just me being cautious."
"I don't remember caution having the same definition as paranoia."
"Well until one of us gets super-hearing, you'll just have to deal with it."
Bruce was saved from responding by an odd chirping noise. "Did you hear that?" he asked when Jerome made no sign of noticing it.
"Hear what?"
"The...beep...or whatever it was."
"Are you hallucinating?" Bruce couldn't see Jerome, but he had a feeling he was looking at him with some sort of mix of concern and humor. Humor was always a safe bet with him.
"No, I haven't touched your stash of hallucinogens, thanks though."
"I don't need drugs to hallucinate, sweetheart. I've got the gift of an opened mind's eye."
Bruce sighed. "Also known as psychosis."
"Well, if ya wanna put a label on it," Jerome muttered. Suddenly, a tiny red light blinked and Bruce heard the chirping sound again. "Okay, I heard it that time."
It beeped louder and they heard some sort of hatch slide open in the wall. A light blinked on, blinding them momentarily. When they had convinced their retinas to return to functioning, Bruce looked inside of the hatch. There was a scroll. He unrolled it. It appeared to be some sort of map of the maze. Based on the rather obvious "You are Here" arrow, they hadn't even truly entered it yet. Jerome was peering over his shoulder.
"Why is there a room titled 'Punishment' and how do I get there?"
Bruce glared at him. "I don't think it's the sort of punishment you're looking for. I think that's where he's keeping Alfred."
Jerome pointed at a section on the map. "But that says 'ALFRED' in giant blue letters."
"It's a red herring."
"Actually, it's blue and it doesn't look like a fish to me."
He smacked Jerome with the piece of paper. "Maybe Jeremiah's right, and you are just trying to distract me."
"I'm sorry, I suffer from two conditions called severe ADHD and smart-assitis." At least he looked genuinely sorry.
"Let's just keep moving. Apparently the next turn we're supposed to take is a left and it's a few hundred feet further."
"Thank god I didn't wear my clubbing heels." Bruce hit Jerome again before grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together.
As they walked, Bruce religiously studied the map. It wouldn't surprise him if they were given it in the first place just to remove the crutch later. So, he wanted to get as much of it memorized as possible. He knew Jeremiah well enough to believe that the map was indeed accurate. He didn't want them to fail. He also knew exactly why they'd be allowed to keep it for awhile. Or rather, why he'd be allowed to keep it for awhile. However teasingly he said it, Bruce had accused Jerome of misleading him. In Jeremiah's eyes, this was progress. The message was very clear. Bruce hated him even more for it.
Now that they knew where they were going, they had begun to jog. He didn't see the point in wasting time walking. They soon came to divergences in the path, however, and Bruce placed his hand on Jerome's chest to slow him.
"I thought you said we had to turn left." Jerome stated questioningly.
"We do. That doesn't mean there isn't some sort of trap up here. We'll walk for a bit."
Jerome pulled his hand out of Bruce's grasp. "Look, do you wanna tip-toe around this place or do you want to save your guardian?"
"Right now, we're going to do both," he answered firmly. Jerome sighed but walked at the pace Bruce set.
To break the heavy silence, Jerome kept speculating what the names of each room meant. He took a particular liking to the one simply titled "Bees".
"Y'know, I once wanted to slather you in honey and watch as multiple species of insects devoured your skin."
Bruce couldn't believe he had to deal with this while navigating a labyrinth to rescue Alfred from intense torture. But he was also sort of grateful for the lighthearted distractions.
"I like how you specified 'multiple species'. I do enjoy a variety of many-legged things if I'm going to have my flesh devoured."
"It's because I care about you so much, I figured you deserved the best. I wasn't going to going to go cheap, either. Do you know how much importing Goliath bird-eating spiders costs?"
"I'll give you a card the next time you want to import exotic arachnids."
"Bruce, I don't like you for your money."
He was touched. "Aw, Jerome, you don't need to tell me that. I know-"
"But, I won't say no to a sugar daddy." Jerome was grinning now. Bruce was so busy trying to figure out how to respond to his statement, that it took him a moment to notice the smudges appearing on the map from the liquid that had begun to drip from the ceiling. Strangely enough, it was so perfectly timed that it never landed on them. Bruce felt a gust of heat and the map was soon on fire. The liquid had been kerosene. He dropped it in panic and watched as it turned to ashes before his eyes. The message Jeremiah was sending this time was just as obvious. The more time he spent flirting, the less time he'd get with the map.
"Well, shit." Jerome said morosely, looking upset.
"It's fine. I memorized it." Bruce could already see Jeremiah shaking with anger when he heard that. Jerome laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
"Y'hear that, asshole? He memorized it. Bet your statistics didn't see that coming. Shove that up your-" Bruce placed a finger over Jerome's lips and just shook his head.
"Alfred, remember?"
Jerome gave a small gasp and shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. It's hard for me to handle myself sometimes."
A nudge from Bruce's elbow carried Jerome's arm from his shoulders to his waist. "Please, just, try your best not to aggravate him. At least not right now." Jerome nodded.
A quick consultation with the image ingrained in his mind told Bruce that, in order to get to their destination, they had to cross through a room labelled as "Toys". He didn't like the sound of that and he had no desire to mention the name to Jerome because he'd rather not hear all of the inappropriate jokes he'd make out of it. Between Punishment, Toys, and Bees, he figured that this was more of a heaven for him than a hell. Minus the Jeremiah part.
After making a few choices and turning some corners, the silver door to the toy room appeared in front of them. Jeremiah's voice came through the speakers.
"Welcome to the toy room. You're making decent time. You've been in the maze for seventeen minutes now." That was all? It's felt like years, thought Bruce. "Alfred isn't enjoying himself nearly as much as you two are. I wonder how much differently this would've gone if you'd been alone, Bruce. It's a shame I didn't get to test it. But, no matter. I'm here now to give you some useful information. The second you enter this room, you must solve a puzzle. If it isn't solved in the allotted time, well...I suppose you'll find out if it comes to that. I know how much Jerome loves surprises, so I won't ruin it. Have fun." The voice cut off. Bruce would almost believe he meant the last statement if he hadn't sounded so passive. Then again, Jeremiah always sounded passive these days. He was struck with with a sudden feeling of sadness and longing. He missed the Jeremiah that had worked with him, laughed with him, and befriended him. It had only been two days since he changed, but it felt much longer.
Shrugging off memories, Bruce pressed the button on the panel to the side of the metal door. It slid openly cleanly. Inside were hundreds of neatly wrapped presents. He turned to see Jerome staring at them skeptically.
"If this doesn't scream, 'Don't open me, I might explode or sever a limb!' then I don't know what does. And I myself scream that a lot, so I know what I'm talking about."
Bruce said nothing, and simply knelt down to get a closer look at the boxes. Jeremiah had said this was a puzzle. And he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the "present" Jerome had sent him. They were all wrapped uniformly in dark blue with large white ribbons. Exactly how he had described the wrapping of the gift that turned him into what he was now. He surveyed the room, taking in how they were stacked. He noticed the door on the far side had a keypad by it with two small arrows pointing in opposite directions. Clearly, they had to type a number in there. A timer had appeared by the keypad as well. It was counting down from three minutes.
He began to count how many were in each stack. It was going to take forever, but that was the only logical explanation he could think of. The timer was at 2:15 now and he had counted sixty-one boxes so far. He still had several hundred to go.
It was Jerome who figured it out. While Bruce was counting, he simply stood in the center of the room, turning his head at an angle occasionally. With one minute and nineteen seconds on the clock, he walked over to the keypad and began to input numbers.
"No, Jerome! What are you doing?"
There was a pleasant beep and the far door slid open. Bruce was in awe.
Jerome walked back over to him. "You really should trust me more. I may look stupid and act stupid but I'm good with colors."
Bruce was confused. "What colors?"
Now Jerome looked confused. "The boxes. Some were more indigo than royal blue. I counted the indigo ones on each side and then put in those numbers. Twenty-two on the left and eight on the right. That's why it took so long. I thought there should be more."
He felt like an idiot. "I didn't even notice they were different colors. I just started counting."
Jerome punched his arm lightly. "You've gotta think outside the box more, Bruce!" He laughed at his terrible pun. "Now c'mon, we've got places to be and brothers to kill." Said brother's voice crackled to life before they could get too far from the room, though. Or rather, his slow clap did.
"Well done, Jerome. You never were one to color inside the lines, so to speak. I'm disappointed that you didn't get to view what was inside the boxes, however. So, I figured I'd give you the opportunity. Since the prospect of Alfred's death doesn't seem to be propelling you along quickly, perhaps this will. You're almost there, anyway. Might as well speed things up a bit." The sound of thousands of feet marching covered anything else Jeremiah might have said. The two boys looked behind them to see hundreds upon hundreds of toy soldiers all aiming their tiny weapons at them. Some had guns while others wielded swords, axes, and various blunt objects. It was both fear-invoking and oddly adorable all at the same time. This time, Jerome reached for his hand, and together they sprinted away from the figurines, soon leaving them behind. There was no time for discussion as they ran.
The pair only stopped when they arrived at another door. This one was reminiscent of the one that led into the building. Jerome pushed it open for Bruce.
As he walked in, Bruce was struck with two incredibly infuriating thoughts. The first being that this was, in fact, the exact room they had started in. Even though the map had shown them very clearly as two different rooms. The second thought was that there was no Alfred. Just Jeremiah sitting comfortably on a miscellaneous table. He was sipping something from a mug. Somebody else emerged from another entry point. It was Ecco, who was apparently in perfect health. She came to stand rigidly by Jeremiah. He handed her his mug, presumably empty now, and said, "Black, two sugars please." Ecco left the room as abruptly as she'd appeared.
"Ah, my guests of honor," Jeremiah greeted them. "Sorry about that, I'd planned on you arriving a little sooner. I didn't think I'd be out of coffee before you got here. I suppose that says more about your punctuality than my timing. How was your little walk? Did you get some decent exercise in?"
Bruce wasn't having any of it. He stepped closer to the sociopath. "What have you done with Alfred?" he demanded.
"Relax, Bruce. I haven't done anything to him. I thought you would've known that I'd never do anything to hurt you, and that extends to your butler."
He was bewildered. "But-but the projection!"
Jeremiah looked bored. "Something a little bit of Mr. Crane's fear toxin cooked up. It's remarkably reactive, and with the right chemist behind it, can produce incredible results."
"I don't understand. Why do it then?"
He looked at Bruce as though it should be obvious. "To bring you back here, of course. After seeing the...interaction...between you two at the police department, I realized just how far you'd fallen. Clearly, drastic measures had to be taken."
Bruce blushed at the thought of Jeremiah watching his kiss with Jerome.
"So, in short, you've been stalking him. And the moment he did something that wasn't to your liking, you decided the best possible way to get him back was to screw with his mind and emotions. That sounds both healthy and considerate," Jerome interjected.
"And yet, neither of us asked for your opinion. Didn't anybody tell you that it's rude to interrupt when two people are trying to have a conversation?" Jeremiah was now staring at Jerome harshly.
"No, because thanks to you, my one parent didn't gave a rat's ass about teaching me manners. So instead, I get to speak my mind and still be wonderfully charming. It's a talent few possess and a skill even less can develop. I'm a rarity, truly."
"Nobody denied that you're special, Jerome. We're all just thinking more along the lines of short-bus rather than talent."
This was all making Bruce nauseous. "Could you two stop bickering like idiots for one minute, please? I still don't understand what's going on."
Jeremiah patted a spot on the table next to him. "Come here. We'll talk. Alone." At that moment, Ecco reappeared. She was carrying Jeremiah's coffee and a silver handgun. The latter she pointed at Jerome while the former she handed to Jeremiah. "Thank you, Ecco. In record time, too." She said nothing and simply kept her arm straight. Bruce didn't like how close the barrel was to Jerome's forehead. But, he didn't want to say or do anything that might cause her to pull the trigger. He hesitantly sat by Jeremiah.
"A smart choice, Bruce. Ecco, please escort my brother out of the building. If he attempts to re-enter or just annoys you, feel free to blow his brains onto the pavement. I really couldn't care less. Bruce and I are going to have a little chat."