Whooooooos excited?!
Okay this chapter is a little out of order. I'm going to attempt to not do this in the future but, to be honest Bruce wouldn't wait a whole week to take up leads. But technically last chapter was one week later. So I'm kinda skipping back briefly. Get over it.
Note 2: I've played Batman: Arkham Asylum. I don't recall ever getting into the Maximum Security area. If we did. Let me know and I'll fix this up to match that area! Like seriously it bugs me lol.
Note 3: Last chapter I said downtown slums for the restaurant, downtown Gotham is actually not slums, I believe, if the maps I've seen are relatively correct. So it'll actually be high class downtown. That seems strange to me, but uptown held crime ally and things that just didn't seem like they belonged in ritzy places. Once Batman Arkham Knight comes out... this'll be easier and probably updated. Not really I'm bad at that...
Shattered Identities
Chapter 3
Dance of Fools
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Batman could tell, from the looks Robin kept flashing him, that the teen knew precisely why they were here. Why they had gone out on patrol, together, only two days after Bruce had been injured. Why they were sitting on top of a fancy downtown Chinese Restaurant just before closing. They were hiding in the shadows watching the last few customers leave. Robin, clothed in his signature costume, was leaning against the back of an ornate dragon sculpture that decorated the front of the building, floor to roof. Batman stood a little ways back favoring his good leg, he leaned against a cooling unit, patiently. His apprentice tapped his foot quietly, his boundless energy hard to contain. Eventually after several minutes of silence, Robin fixed his mentor with sharp blue eyes.
"So who are we looking for?" Tim finally asked, breaking eye contact to watch the last of the crowd trickle away.
"His name is Huáng Sòng. Oracle traced the money trail back to him, well, his deceased mother. Apparently he uses this establishment to launder money and her bank account to make transfers overseas through several other accounts. I'm surprised Oracle was able to track it down. The accounts technically closed in all legal rights, yet still active." The older vigilante explained quietly, as people down below walked to their cars unaware they were being watched.
"She's good with that stuff." His apprentice said with a proud smile, Batman hummed in agreement letting a small smile tug at his own lips. Tim exhaled impatiently after a few more minutes.
"So what's the plan?" Robin asked pushing off of the sculpture, his muscles rippling under his clothes with the movement. He threw one arm over his chest, stretching the muscles only pro-wrestlers should have at his age. Bruce pushed off of the air conditioning unit and Robin's eyes snapped to him, taking in his every movement. The older male knew he was looking for any sign he needed to step in and cut Batman off from this fight. It would be one hell of a staring match but Tim was pretty stubborn when it came to his well being.
"Interrogation." Batman stated deeply, walking closer to the edge as the last car pulled out of the lot, their headlights finally clicking on once they were already on the road. Robin's eyes narrowed for a second debating his options, it was obvious Bruce's leg was painful, the way he walked was stiffer than normal, his usual powerful fluid movement absent under his black Kevlar. He'd seen worse though, Batman had seen worse, he wasn't willing to deal with a grumpy Bruce all week just to ensure he didn't get a nasty bruise from getting shot in the chest a few times.
"Oh, sounds fun." The teen finally said, a smirk lighting his face for a second, making way for a more serious expression.
"I can do all the leg work." He suggested the hope obvious in his voice, his eyes. Hope that Bruce wouldn't be stubborn, injuring himself farther trying to look tough. Hope that they wouldn't argue tonight. The vigilante looked at the teen, meeting his eyes, debating as they started a staring contest, Tim refusing to lose. Batman could do what he wanted, take the lead and let Robin pick up the slack. Breaking eye contact Bruce took a deep breath. He wouldn't though, if Tim were in his place, injured and had his own teammate to take the lead, he wouldn't want him to be stubborn, take the risk, chance himself or his teammates. So Bruce nodded reluctantly and Robin raised an eyebrow, an appreciative smile gracing his lips. Sometimes The Detective hated being a role model.
"Alright! Then let's crack some skulls." The teen said darkly, slamming a fist into his palm. Batman leveled him with a disapproving gaze. It took a second for the teen to notice the attention.
"Oh, right, let's, smash some faces?" Robin tried again, raising a questioning eyebrow. Bruce kept his features blank, letting his partner sweat a little. Nodding his head he let a small smile grace his lips and Tim smiled in return, shaking his head at his mentor's antics.
"Watch the back door." The older Vigilante instructed with a jerk of his head, his side kick nodded, creeping to the back of the building without a word. They sat in silence for roughly an hour, lying in wait, Bruce could tell Tim was getting fidgety, he kept getting flashes of red from the corner of his eye, because the kid kept moving around. Finally Robin signaled him over. Batman straightened up wincing at the protesting throb his leg gave, making his way over to the teen, hoping he hadn't noticed the delay. Robin was crouched at the edge of the roof, his staff in hand, held behind his back. They gazed down at the expensive black SUV parked in the back alley. The chauffeur stood near the passenger's door, waiting patiently. The back door opened a few minutes later, expelling two armed Asian men who immediately scanned the area. After a brief search of the alleyway, and a nod of their heads, a heavy set Asian stepped out of the door. Robin looked towards the older male who nodded in confirmation, his muscles tensing under his black Kevlar as he crouched down, ignoring the stab of pain in his injured leg. The teen didn't wait, dropping down he made quick work of one of the armed men, breaking an arm, and the chauffeur, slamming his head against the car with a side kick, before Bruce even had time to pulled out his tranquilizer gun. He quickly shot the other armed oriental man before he could level his gun on Tim. Twisting around Robin disarmed Sòng before the man could fumble his weapon into position. Crouching down he slammed the broken armed man's head into the ground, knocking him unconscious. He stood up in time to snatch Sòng's gun out of the air, dismantling the gun in front of him, just for show. The Dark Knight rolled his eyes, dropping down gently beside them. Sòng held up his hands in surrender his eyes wide, perspiration already lining his upper lip and forehead. Robin shot Batman a curious glance, eyeing the tranq-gun. Bruce just glared at the teen, putting it away, and the kid pursed his lips at his mentor's attitude, before turning back to their guest with a smirk.
"Sup boss." Robin said cracking his knuckles ominously at the man, who backed up fumbling for the door handle. The teen flexed his muscles dramatically when he folded his arms, leaning casually against the SUV.
"W-wha-what you want?" The man asked, his Chinese accent heavy, his eyes wide. He gripped the handle and Batman violently slammed a gloved hand against the door, causing the heavy set man to jump out of his skin, the sound echoing through the area, Sòng scampered away from The Bat.
"We're going to ask some questions. You're going to answer them." Batman stated, taking a few steps forward, using his height to intimidate the man, blocking the door. The Asian's eyes widened further, his breathing becoming labored, panicked. Robin uncrossed his arms tapping his fingers against the car behind him. The sound echoing eerily through the ally way. Startled Sòng jerked his head towards the teen. Who huffed out a breath of impatience leveling the man with an irritated gaze.
"Batman promised that tonight," He said leaning forward his eyes piercing. "I get to smash some faces in. So don't make this too long, or it will be your face I'm smashing." He finished with an innocent smile, leaning back onto the SUV. Sòng's eyes widened further.
"Did you wire money to a Dr. Joseph in return for killing the Joker?" Batman asked his voice ominous, his hand still on the door, subconsciously using it to lean on his good leg.
"I, I don't know, don't know nothin 'bout – ." Robin leapt forward smashing his fist into the man's face. Who was lucky, his fat took most of the blow, instead of his teeth. Sòng fell over regardless, the saying the bigger they are the harder they fall proving true. Song hit the ground hard his head smacking against the dirty, grime covered street. It took him several seconds to recover consciousness, drool dribbled down the Asian's cheek and Batman stepped away in disgust, barely avoiding getting the man's spit on his boots. He shot Robin a scathing look and the teen had the decency to look sheepish, scratching the back of his head.
"Too soon?" Robin asked coyly, afraid his role model would admonish him for the hit. Bruce stared at him for a few seconds, finally giving the teen an amused smile.
"Not at all." Batman said approvingly, and the teen grinned at him. The older caped crusader reached down lifting the overweight man off the ground, he faltered for a second when his leg gave a throbbing protest. He'd forgotten about that. Robin tensed, looking for a brief second like he wanted to rush to his aid, but the kid knew better. Batman didn't show weakness. The vigilante shoved the Asian against the filth covered restaurant wall and the man gasped in pain. His pudgy fingers coming up to scrape at his gloved hands.
"Lets try this again." Batman stated darkly staring the man down.
"Did you send fifty thousand dollars to a Dr. Miles Joseph?" Batman asked again with a sneer as the man clawed at his hold on him. Robin took the chance to look around them, make sure no one had noticed their little get together, Sòng was being pretty loud. The man squirmed in Bruce's grip, sweat dripping down his face. A little trail of blood making its way from the small scrape he obtained from his meeting with the ground. Sòng smelled like body-odor and dead fish, covered by cheap cologne.
"Okay okay! I did send the money. But I didn't know what for! I mean that's crazy right?!" The man rambled off laughing nervously. Giving up on prying the vigilante's grip off his shirt, he raised his hands in surrender.
"What are you talking about?" The Dark Knight asked loosening his grip a little in confusion. Trying to process the man's heavily accented words.
"That he'd pay to kill himself." The Asian admitted like it was some crazy misunderstanding, Batman pressed him harder against the wall and the man choked a little, spit oozing down his chin again.
"What are you talking about?" The Bat repeated darkly, while Robin toed one of the downed man's unconscious bodies with his boot, making sure he was still out. Reaching down he picked up the gun, dismantling that one as well.
"The Joker." Song gasped out painfully, Robin paused in his reach for the second gun.
"Yes?" Batman encouraged with a sneer, shaking the man for effect, his fat flopping, eyes rolling into his head.
"He. Hired. Me." The Asian finally gasped out and Bruce actually looked taken aback. His brows furrowed under the cowl, a frown marring his angular lips. Robin looked just as confused, but didn't let it stop him from snatching up the last gun, quickly dismantling it.
"What do you mean? The Joker? The Joker hired you to wire the money?" Batman growled out and the Asian nodded his head enthusiastically, his fat rippling with each movement.
"Yes. I can show you. We have cameras." Batman narrowed his eyes at the man. He didn't trust this guy.
"Wait here." He growled out dropping him roughly, Sòng hit the wall sliding to the ground.
"Don't even think about it." Robin smirked as the man tried to get up off the dirty pavement. Bruce walked down the alleyway short distance, out of earshot.
"Oracle." He spoke opening a link between them.
"Hey, yeah? I'm here, what's up?"
" Sòng says he has surveillance footage of the Joker requesting the money transfer." Bruce stated and there was a long pause.
"The Joker? Thats insane." Barbara stuttered in confusion.
"When is he not?"
"That's a little too far. Even for him." The girl admitted reluctantly.
"I know, he's destructive, but... Can you hack into Sòng's surveillance? I don't want him triggering any alarms."
"Give me a second... I'm not getting anything on the network. It could be an offline server."
"If I hooked you into it could you copy the hard drive?"
"Of course. I'd need to be plugged directly into the server though."
"I'm on it."
"I'll be here." Barbara stated just before Bruce cut the line. Turning around he was meet with the sight of Robin scowling down at the man in disgust, Sòng pleading with the teen to let him go. It was almost sad seeing a grown man plead with a child. Batman stalked back to the pair and the Asian immediately shut up.
"Your servers not online." The man stared up at the older vigilante, dumbfounded, until Robin stepped towards him menacingly, cocking a fist.
"Yes. Yes. We keep them offline. Unless we need to make transfer. Smaller window." He gushed cowering into the grime of the ally, covering his face with a pudgy arm, barely fitting in his tailored suit.
"Take me to it, but don't touch anything." Bruce growled opening the door to the restaurant.
"Yes yes of course." Sòng stuttered as The Bat hauled him off the ground.
"Want me to babysit?" Robin asked gesturing to the men littering the ground, meeting Bruce's eye without hesitance.
"No. Wrap them up for the GCPD. We'll call it in when we're done."
"Got it, I'll wrap them tight and join you." Bruce nodded at the teen's words, shoving the large man into the establishment. By the time Robin had gotten done tying up the other men Batman hadn't really gotten anywhere. Despite slapping the guy around a few more times, the man was just leading him in circles, refusing to tell him where the server was located.
"What's up?" Robin asked as he walked into the kitchen catching sight of Batman's annoyed form, muscles bulging through his suit, his arms crossed staring down towards the floor. Sòng was slumped to the floor, his head resting on a pile of pans stacked in between the counter and the bottom shelf. His face swollen, drool soaking into his shirt, blood streaming down the front of his face, his nose a purple mess.
"He's not talking." The Dark Knight stated leaning against a counter with his arms crossed, glaring at the man like a sulking child.
"Doesn't look like he can anymore." Tim joked and the older vigilante leveled the teen with an aggravated glare. Robin laughed shaking his head and punching the man in the arm, meeting solid muscle.
"Don't give me that look. I'll babysit this mess, you go find whatever." The younger male chuckled taking up Batman's mantle against the counter, shooing him away with a flick of his hand. The Bat glared at him for a few more seconds just for good measure before pushing off of the counter, the metal shifting under his weight.
"Call me if there's trouble." Bruce stated walking farther into the back of the restaurant.
"Only if I can't handle it." Robin called back lazily and Batman fought a frown, choosing instead to ignore his partner. Eventually he found a safe, hidden behind some ragged looking boxes. It took a few minutes to crack, then he plugged everything in and booted it up. Once Barbara was plugged in it was only a matter of seconds before they had every incriminating file, folder and deleted text document the computer had ever contained. Bruce let Robin call in the cops as he slowly made his way back to the batmobile. His apprentice would stay out and patrol the streets. The teen had simply given him a knowing look when Batman stated he was going home to inspect the evidence. Robin stuck around long enough to make sure the police showed up to haul the men away, then he took to the roof tops, scouring the city.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Bruce sunk into his chair in the Bat Cave, his cowl resting on the desk beside the keyboard. Barbara was decrypting the files as he rested his leg. He really shouldn't have gone out, but he needed to get to the bottom of this before it blew up in their faces. He should also take some pain medication, but he hated them, how they dulled his senses, so he decided against it. After a few minutes of silence, and rubbing the soreness in his thigh, his computer dinged, the screen lighting up.
"I think you'll want to see this." Barbara's voice said over the speakers. The detective leaned forward moving the mouse he clicked on the giant play button that popped up on his screen.
Several angles of the restaurant's dining room sprang into view. Patrons sitting around enjoying their meals, staff members rushing around filling drinks and taking orders. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary really. Nothing happened for the next thirty seconds, then a figure strode by the windows, the door slammed open violently and The Joker danced in, his arms opened wide.
"Hell-o Gotham!" He shouted joyfully as men around the room stood up, revealing their hidden weapons, the Clown walked in farther.
"Would you look! At this fine establishment." The Prince of Crime stated spinning around to take everything in. Stopping he clicked his tongue, leveling the room with a bored stare.
"So, so, so. I!" He placed his gloved hands on his chest in exaggeration, "Need to borrow this room for a little bit so why don't all you little rich folk scamper off home?" He suggested his index and middle finger walking on air towards the door.
"Yeah, hows that sound?" The Joker asked grinning at all of the tables not containing his minions, his arms open like he was inviting them in for a hug. Slowly people crept from their seats and the Joker stepped aside letting the first brave customer creep past him, then they all rush out, shoving each other in a chaotic mess of limbs. The Clown laughed gleefully as they passed him, but nothing more. Bruce frowned, leaning against the armrest, resting his head against his hand. Something was right.
"Great! Now where is, the lovely owner? Yeah?! I got a proposition for him." The Joker giggled dancing farther into the room. Running a purple gloved hand along a table with a grin. He froze half way across the room, hand still on the table, his smile dropping instantly off his face. His eyes snapped up, fixing the staff members with a piercing glower. He ran his tongue over his teeth, cocking his head.
"No seriously, go get him." He hissed when none of the wait staff had budged. Rolling his green eyes he clapped his hands together.
"Well come on, chop chop!" The Joker insisted and everyone jumped, rushing out of the room through the back doors, into the kitchen, shoving each other out of the way. Joker inspected his gloved hands as if he could see his nails, waiting. A few minutes later Sòng came in, looking nervous, flanked by several armed men and the air became tense. Everyone held their guns a little more tightly. The Joker licked his lips giving the new arrivals a grin.
"What do you want?" Sòng asked his eyes flicking between his men and The Joker's. The Clown drummed his fingers on top of the table.
"Well let's make this easy, sweetheart. I need some money sent, to a little someone," The Clown started hopping up onto one of the tables, "And I need you to do it, I hear your the best." He insisted picking up a fork and stabbing a piece of chicken, he ripped it off the utensil, the slide of teeth against metal audible through the room. He stared the fat Asian down, chewing thoughtfully, while Sòng looked flustered.
"I don't know what your talking about." He stated and the Joker licked his lips in disappointment, pursing his lips he turned his attention to the ground for a split second. Snapping his eyes up he fixed the overweight Asian with a deadly gaze.
"I, don't feel, like playing games." He whispered darkly, hopping back off the table, dusting his pants off and straightening his jacket.
"So here's the deal, darling. You're going to transfer fifty thousand dollars to, this," The Joker pulled a slip of paper out of his jacket pocket, " Bank account." The Clown snapped his fingers and one of his men dropped a bag where Song could see it. The zipper open, revealing stacks of money. The Prince of Crime let the paper go, watching it flutter to inside the bag, joining the mound of money.
"That! Contains one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Fifty thousand of it is, yours!" The Joker pointed at the Sòng, like he had just won the grand prize.
"I hear that's more, than your, uh, usual asking price." He paused clicking his tongue, "In return." The Joker placed one gloved finger against his scarred ruby lips, the lips that slowly morphed into a sadistic grin, "You don't tell a soul I was here, or requested your, uh, services. When I give you the word you will transfer another fifty thousand, to this bank account, and I'll be out of your hair." He sung, removing the finger from his lips, both hands soaring through the air, his fingers wriggling in freedom. "So what do you say, sweetheart?" He asked licking his lips, "We have a deal or what?!" The Joker shouted throwing his arms open rocking up onto his tip toes, then back down. Sòng shook his head in frustration, his fat giggling. The Joker scowled in disgust, turning his gaze to the floor, wouldn't do to kill the help.
"Fine. Fine. But if I do this, you never come back here again. If you need to speak with me you do it privately. No more ruining my business." Sòng chattered out with a scowl. The Joker licked his lips, letting his signature grin spread across his face.
"You've got a deal, sweetheart. Come on boys let's get you home before your missed." The Prince of Crime said turning his back to the other men, strolling out of the building without a care in the world. Batman paused the video and rewound it, watching it again. Something didn't seem right, but he couldn't figure it out. It was something simple, something that just, he rewound it again, leaning closer.
"Bruce?" Barbara asked after a while. The man grunted in acknowledgment still letting the video play.
"Are you seeing something I'm not? It looks like The Joker to me, as crazy as that is." She continued her befuddlement easily audible over the speakers.
"There's something off about this. I know the Joker is crazy. If anyone knows that it's me, but he always has an endgame Barbara. I just can't figure out what that is. I don't see what he could gain from killing himself off. Not so literally."
"I don't know Bruce. Isn't it impossible to understand insanity? Maybe he's just tired of, I don't know, being insane." She tried trailing off at the end realizing how ridiculous it sounds.
"No. No. His brand of insanity isn't... I don't know. Something is off and I'm going to figure it out."
"Well don't strain yourself too hard. Sitting around thinking is one thing, but don't go gallivanting all over the city because of this."
"I won't." Barbara laughed a little.
"I'll let you know when I believe you." She joked, still chuckling a bit.
"I'm not that big of a loose cannon am I?" Batman joked back a small smile tugging his lips.
"Lately Bruce..." Barbara started on a more serious note, but then trailed off, leaving them both in an awkward silence.
"I'll let you know if I find anything else on their hard drive." Barbara tried, attempting to cut the tension.
"Thanks." Bruce said quietly before Oracle hung up the line. His gaze fell on his cowl, looking ominous, even if it was just sitting on the table. He hated worrying the people around him, but he never could stop from pushing himself. Finding his limits. Maybe Barbara was right. Maybe he was getting too old for this, but he couldn't imagine a life without the suit. Couldn't imagine being just Bruce. That flirtatious, womanizing, dense billionaire. He rewound the video again.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Bruce stared at the man in front of him trying really hard to keep his expression neutral. He loathed when people talked to him like he was a child, he could run circles around them, yet he had to sit there and take it. Yes, it was part of his cover as Bruce Wayne, playboy idiot, but it was still annoying. The Detective had called in a board meeting for the Arkham Asylum comity, knowing full well none of them would show up. Since they never really did, they threw money at the establishment but never ventured there. Bruce Wayne had been the same, but now he had an excuse. A personal vendetta you could say. One that if the media got a hold of could pass. He was here to make sure the Joker didn't escape again.
He fought the urge to scowl at how grimy the place was as he was lead through the halls. "Given the tour" as they called it, but Bruce wasn't going to let them stop at just the fancy areas, that to be honest weren't that fancy. He needed to see the high profile cells. Maximum Security. He needed to see the Joker. Hopefully satisfy his curiosity in the playboy by a visit or two. To be honest the billionaire wasn't quite sure where all the money he had given to this place went. It almost looked the exact same as when he had been here that tragic night The Joker took control of the island. He had donated quite a bit to bring the living conditions of the patients up. Yet he could still smell the damp stench of rotting urine and dried blood. Hell there were still stains in many places where he had smashed inmate's heads against the ground. Gritting his teeth he watched the nervous orderly take him through the halls of the penitentiary, nervous because this place was such a dump. Bruce made a note to get Barbara to scope out their financial records. The man started leading him back to the front gate, the billionaire watched him walk several feet, not even noticing his lack of accompaniment. The man even made it to the door to the next area before Bruce decided to stop him.
"Wait! Wait, wait!" The Detective called after the elder man running after him he shoved his foot in between the door stopping it from shutting locking him in the courtyard, without the man.
"This isn't everything. I need to see the rest." Bruce stated pulling the door open, to see the startled elder man's face.
"The rest?" The man stuttered looking even more nervous than before.
"Yes. The rest. Now, please."
"I don't understand quite what you mean. If you'd like to take a look at the garden." Bruce fought the urge to roll his eyes, shaking his head at the man like he were a child.
"No, Maximum Security, Intensive Care, the Medical Facility. All of it."
"I'm not authorized to – ." Bruce took a steadying breath, he knew this was going to be irritating, that didn't mean he was okay with it.
"Look I get it." He said charmingly placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "How about we make a deal? You take these." Bruce pulled out a few hundred dollar bills, "And you give me that key card." The playboy stated pulling the key out of the man's shocked hands. He placed the money in the man's palm curling his fingers around it. The old guy stared at the money for a second, befuddled, before leveling Bruce with a concentrated stare.
"If you get hurt or something, it's not my fault." The orderly grunted shoving the bills into his pocket all the same. As if the playboy wouldn't be able to take care of himself, so he was making sure the billionaire understood he had nothing to do with it, wasn't his responsibility.
"No problem. How far will this get me?" Bruce twirling the card through his fingers, raising an eyebrow at the man.
"Everywhere but Maximum Security, or the labs after it." The orderly replied casting a paranoid glance around.
"The labs?" The billionaire repeated confused, he didn't remember any labs inside maximum security. They weren't on the old layout of the Asylum. The man didn't say anything to his question and Bruce nodded his head, not willing to press the issue.
"That's fine. I'm sure I can find a way. Thank you for your time." The Detective said smoothly pushing past the man back into the corridors between the open yards. He made his way outside turning right he quickly covered the lush grounds to Intensive Treatment. Swiping the card at the door he walked inside. Once in he walked forward, meeting the eye of a security guard who gave him a once over, standing up out of his chair safely behind the bullet proof glass security box.
"What are you doing here?" The old guard called as he made his way down the ramp towards the billionaire, and Bruce held up his key card.
"I have permission to be here." He said waving the card around he walked towards the closed gates. The man scowled stalking towards the billionaire, attempting to tower over his shoulder as the playboy tried to walk down to the gate. It didn't work however since the younger man was just as tall and twice as broad.
"I don't think so pretty boy." Bruce paused in irritation turning around to face the man, instead of getting aggravated though, maybe he could get something out of this encounter. He was feeling impatient however. The guard stood near him, his hair graying, his face scared, his skin tough and wrinkled, his eyes a dull blue.
"Do you have access to Maximum Security?" The playboy asked flippantly, a pleasant smile on his face, and the guard glared intensely.
"You're not going in there." Bruce nodded his head slowly, pursing his lips.
"Uh, that's not going to work," He muttered to himself, "so, would say, five hundred dollars change your mind?" The guard laughed bitterly a scowl of disgust on his face.
"If five hundred could change my mind half of those psychos would be back on the streets." Bruce actually grinned at that, no acting required. Bruce let the childish playboy go for a second, leveling the man with a serious look, his airy tone dissipating.
"How does a promotion sound. I need men like you running things higher up. If they had your steel, we wouldn't have so many escapees." The guard scoffed crossing his arms a tight amused smile on his lips.
"Yeah and who are you?" He scoffed giving the billionaire a once over, sizing him up.
"Bruce, Bruce Wayne." He said holding his hand out to the skeptical guard.
"Hey, that's that billionaire the Joker attacked," Another guard, still in the security box, called out. Bruce fought off the need to grit his teeth in irritation, settling on a simple nod of his head instead.
"So it was you, you saved him." The old guy said darkly, hate in his eyes. Bruce took a deep breath staring at the ground for a second, trying to pull in his patience, before meeting the man's eyes again.
"I didn't want to see anyone else die. So yes. I saved him. Now I'm here to make sure he never gets out again. Ever." The guard laughed running a hand under his nose with a sniff.
"Good luck with that. And how do I know that? Huh? For all I know that reporter chick could be right. You're in league with him, besides what would a stroll down there do for you? Ease your mind? Well don't bother. He'll be out again. He always is." Bruce exhaled irritatedly through his nose at the man's suspicious tone. Squaring his shoulders he stepped up to the man staring him down.
"Do you know how much money I've donated to this Asylum?" He asked his voice steady, serious, but not deep, not like Batman's.
"No, why should I care?" This time it was Bruce's turn to laugh, shaking his head.
"Have you seen anything improved around here? Anything at all?" The man took a second to think about it, his lips tight, before shaking his head. The playboy nodded a bitter smile gracing his chiseled features.
"Why is that, you think? I've donated hundreds of thousands into fixing this place up. Where does it all go?" He asked gesturing his arms around the establishment.
"So I, am going to take a stroll around. You can pretend like you never saw me and when I get out. I'm going to track down where all that money went and you know what I'm going to do?" Bruce asked stepping into the man's personal space, who raised an amused eyebrow, not backing away from the billionaire like Bruce was used to.
"I'm going to tear this place apart brick by brick until the slime and corruption are sniffed out, then I'm going to burn them to the ground. So, let me ask again. Would you like a promotion, or not?" The man's jaw tightened as he stared down Bruce who didn't budge under his scrutinizing gaze.
"Fine. Fine. It'd be nice to see a change in this place." The old guard shook his head in disbelief like he couldn't quite believe he was actually letting him in. "I'll hold you to that. If any one of those loonies get out. I'm coming after you." He said poking Bruce in the chest, surprised when the man didn't shift an inch under the pressure.
"Fair enough." Bruce stated holding out a hand towards the man. "I do need into Maximum Security. Please." The guard glared at him, ignoring that outstretched hand, he headed back into the box. The Detective watched him go, unsure of the man's intentions, the guard fumbled around in some drawers, before coming back down the steps, holding a card in his hand.
"Any of them." He warned holding the card just out of Bruce's reach. The playboy held out his hand again.
"Any of them," He agreed and the guard dropped the card into his outstretched palm, "and thank you." Bruce took a few steps away, then thought better of it, turning back to the man.
"What was your name by the way?" He asked and the old guy looked skeptical.
"Mike DuVall." He finally muttered his face sour at the revelation of that piece of information. Almost like he wanted to take it back.
"Well thank you, Mr. DuVall." Bruce insisted as he slipped towards the gate.
"You can thank me if you make it out sane." The guard called after him, and the playboy waved back at him with a small salute, the gate closing behind him.
Bruce made his way through the various security points, being let through every one of them the instant he flashed the card. Finally The Detective stood in front of the door leading to Maximum Security, the guards stationed there gave him confused looks.
"You want us to go in with you? You shouldn't be in there alone." One of them muttered to him as he opened the door with the card.
"I'll be fine. Thank you though." He said and the guard scoffed shuffling his feet.
"Your funeral." He muttered resuming his post.
Bruce walked into a metal hallway, he had made it several steps in before he realized that there were cells on either side of him. Metal doors blended seamlessly into the walls. Curious he tapped on a metal panel, barely sticking out from the rest of the metal, it popped open a scanner and keypad suddenly revealed. He closed it and looked at the supposed door to the cell some more. The only view into the rooms being a small sliding window, a little lower than eye view for him. Not wanting to check them all just yet, The Detective skipped those cells continuing his way through the hall, towards the open room ahead, he kept walking until he heard the sound he was looking for. That cackling laughter that was unique to the Joker alone, he had stepped out of the hallway into the larger room and was instantly met with the howling laughter. There was a choking sound and the giggles cut off into a groan of pain. In front of him was a strange electric looking device that took up the center of the room. A short railing wrapping around it to keep people away.
"Ah, that still hurts." A voice whined quietly and Bruce turned towards the sound, but not before noticing a half finished cell on his right, a metal high tech door across the room.
"Hey there Princess! Miss me? Oh I know you did. What am I saying?! You came to say hello! Maybe pick up on our little, play date? Oh the playing we would do." The Joker giggled sounding distant. The Clown was trapped behind a large glass window, keeping the crazy inside, but visible at all times. The only blind spot appeared to be the steel door leading into the cell, the same steel doors as the countless ones he passed in the hallway. Ignoring the madman, Bruce walked up to the glass, tapping it a few times. It made no sound, no echo, no vibration. He glanced up at the vent above the cell, the origin of the Joker's voice, the reason it sounded so distant, had a little echo. This was some heavy duty blast proof glass, he nodded his head in appreciation, at least they bought something right.
"Awwww come on Bru-Bru don't be like that. Say something."He whined tossing his green hair back, his head hitting the wall behind him in frustration.
"It was nothing personal I swear!" The Billionaire finally turned his attention to the Joker, who was sitting on a cot, the only furniture in the white room. The thick metal frame was welded into the floor. The mattress, basically plastic covered padding, had metal wires criss-crossing through it like a mesh. That seemed a little dangerous in Bruce's opinion, but the Joker was in a straitjacket, rocking back and forth on his bed. Unable to pick at them, for now. The Clown smirked, slipping lithely off the bed, he padded his way to the window, only flinching slightly as he straightened up. He set his forehead against the glass pressing as close to Bruce as possible, his eyes half lidded.
"Tell me you're here to see me, little dove." The Clown asked his voice barely carrying through the vent, Bruce didn't answer. The Joker closed his eyes, banging his head against the glass once, licking his lips, when his visitor remained silent. Opening those vivid green eyes he leveled the playboy with an icy stare, his red lips parting. Bruce met those eyes taking in the intelligent insanity, that sober soul piercing gaze.
"I'm here to make sure you never escape again." Bruce stated after several seconds of unblinking contact, backing away from the glass a bit. The Joker tilted his head up, his nose pressed against the glass.
"Oh ho ho. Good luck with that dream-boat! The doctors here don't really favor my, presence, if you, uh, catch my drift." The Joker grinned with a dark chuckle, pulling his head away from the glass leaving an oily smear behind.
"Thats where I'll start then." The billionaire said defiantly, before remembering exactly why he was here, and what he was supposed to be doing. The Joker always made him forget who he was. The Clown tutted shaking his head at him.
"Oh, they won't like that. They won't like that at all." He pressed back against the glass. "I! Would suggest you didn't! I like you! I'd hate to see you go!" He pushed away from the glass with his head, moving to pace across his cell, feral, like a jaguar pacing in a cage, a smirk on his face, eye never leaving their prey. Bruce frowned and crossed his arms defiantly. Then second guessed himself. He needed to convince the Joker he wasn't a threat. Or interesting. He let his arms fall against his sides. God he really didn't know what he was doing here. He could play, womanizer, moron, tough guy, vigilante, but he didn't know how to play boring. The smirk dropped off the madman's face and he froze mid step, tilting his head, he slid back up to the window a scowl on his face.
"Don't!" He slammed his head against the window. Bruce winced for him, that had to hurt. The only sound being the slapping of flesh through the vent. "Do that." He hissed through gritted teeth fixing the playboy with an angry glare. Bruce frowned in confusion, not even sure what the Clown was talking about anymore.
"I have the money. I can easily buy out this entire place. Make sure you never get out." Bruce guessed, the madman growled twisting his forehead on the glass.
"They will, kill you," He sung giving Bruce a once over, he suddenly slammed his body against the glass. "And stop with the fidgeting! Just act natural, twinkle toes." The Joker insisted letting his head slam against the glass again, he slid his forehead down the window a little, the screeching friction of damp flesh against the smooth plain creeping out of the vent.
"Just be, your defiant gallant, little self." He insisted meeting Bruce's guarded blue eyes, his head nodding enthusiastically. "Ah!" He shouted jumping away from the window with his sudden epiphany. "Thank you! By the way, for saving little ol' me. Wish I could have been awake for the fun parts. I have to admit, I've died one too many times, don't you think?" He added with a giggle, snuggling up to the glass again. The billionaire gritted his teeth.
"It wasn't my intention." Bruce stated blandly with tight lips.
"Sure it wasn't. I read the papers handsome, I know what you said, what they, think." The Joker leaned away from the glass with a knowing smirk.
"You get papers in here?" Bruce asked in actual curiosity. Wouldn't even that be dangerous in some way? The madman's grin slipped from his face as he sized the playboy up, his deranged green eyes sharpening, as he calculated his response, no, the playboys deserved answer. An amused smile broke across those scarred lips after a few moments. The Joker cocked his head to the side stepping away from the window.
"For a price." The Joker admitted, lucid eyes trained on the playboy as he stalked down his cell, following Bruce as the man walked down a little ways, trying to see just how much of a blind spot that door was, if it was something he should be worried about. Annoyed that he had lost the man's attention Joker spoke again.
"Why are you here, Billion-boy?" The Clown asked sensually pressing himself back against the glass near The Detective.
"I told you. I'm here to make sure – ." There was a sliding of gates, grinding of metal and the door across the room started sliding open.
"That'll be our resident doctor! I'd suggest, you make yourself scarce beautiful. She's not the nicest Doc around." He warned with a wink. Bruce looked around at the empty hall behind him, the empty room around him. The only place he could even attempt to hid would be behind the strange electric conductor stationed in the middle of the room, it would be a tight space though, his shoulders too broad, and he could hear multiple voices coming through the now open door. He'd be able to hide from one person's sight with the device, not multiple. Quickly narrowing down his options he dashed forward, clicking the metal plate open, sliding the key card across The Joker's door. The Clown squealed with delight.
"Two six nine, eight four six, three seven five, nine one four two." The Joker recited quickly, and Bruce punched the numbers in, not even stopping to wonder how the madman knew them, slipping inside just before the group caught sight of him. The Joker visibly shivered with pleasure, holding back the laughter as, what Bruce assumed to be, the doctor and some guards entered his view. The billionaire pressed himself against the door hoping that small blind spot would be enough for him. The Joker kept his attention locked on someone outside the cell, doing nothing to betray Bruce's presence. The room smelled like sweat, blood and burnt metal. He could hear the slight hitch in the Joker's breathing from his injury now that he was in the room, the small stitch in his breaths.
"Hello doctor, how are you this, fine, evening?" The Joker asked pressing himself against the glass again, but not quite as close as before.
"Joker. I'm surprised to see you conscious." An older woman said and the Joker snickered.
"I am too! To be, completely, honest. Love, love, love! This new cage you've put me in. It seems my style. Rather, Wicked!" He grinned at her his eyes wide, psychotic, his grin over bearing, tight.
"I thought you'd like it." The woman stated venomously.
"Well yes, but Dr. Hannibal, you should know!" He stage whispered as if letting her in on a great secret, looking around dramatically. "You can only cure crazy this way!" He stated as if it she were batty for the idea.
"Which you are." She replied dryly completely unamused with him.
"That's a point of perspective don't you think? I mean, to me. You're all mad as the Hatter. I mean look at you. Full of greed and personal gain! Let it go pumpkin, it makes life easier." He finished shrilly as if they had spoken of this before and the doctor just wasn't quite getting it.
"Greed." The doctor stated as though mulling over the title. "Maybe." She laughed a little.
"Tell me, you've always seemed pretty obsessed with that sin, why is that? What is it about greed that makes you so... Mad?" She emphasized the last word, showing she meant both meanings of the word. The Joker shook his head leaning a little away from the window with a dramatic sigh. A dark amused chuckle left his lips. He fixed the doctor with a soul shattering stare, his eyes holding an eerie completely sane intelligence. He leaned forward biting his lip, letting his head gently rest against the glass.
"Tell me, doctor." He said his voice deepening, dropping all of the vibrant crazy. "What is, Insanity?" The Joker asked emphasizing the word with a crinkle of his nose. The woman scoffed, annoyed.
"It's a disease, that festers in the soul, rotting the body from the inside out." She answered as if this was a mantra she spoke daily, taught people like it was a religion. Like it was a fact, that everyone should know, live by. The Joker's chuckle was deep, slowly and steadily getting louder, but remaining just as dark. He inhaled suddenly through his teeth. Letting out one last snicker. He tilted his head to the side, a winning smirk sliding across his face.
"And that! My dear doctor. Is your answer." He whispered darkly, knowingly, his chuckle picking back up until it was almost his usual cackle, almost.
"Because you're insane?"
"Because greed is, by your definition, insanity." The Clown countered and the woman fell silent.
"You have a lovely evening, doctor." The Joker called out to her when she had no reply, enunciating the last word with amusement he backed away from the window. There was a very long pause on either side. The Joker never blinking as he watched his audience, a smug look on his face. Finally someone took a deep breath outside the cell.
"You seem rather talkative today. Is there a reason why?" The woman stated, obviously changing the subject.
"Did you hear your little Bruce came to visit? It's a shame he didn't come to see you." The doctor taunted.
"Like he would. Your the craziest one in here, and the ugliest." The Joker made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat.
"Again, I, think that's debatable. I mean have you looked at this mug, it's a show stopper." The Joker replied his eyes deadly as he stared the doctor down.
"Good thing mad men's opinions aren't counted. Let's go boys. We have other things to do then talk with the scenery." High heels clicked through the room, three pairs of boots matching her stride.
"Yet Einstein is so revered." The Joker tacked on with a haughty grin.
"I think he actually got you there doc." A man whispered jokingly, barely audible through the vent. The clicking of heels stopped, a tense silence conquered the room. A zapping noise, one Bruce knew was from a taser echoed through the vent. A body hit the floor painfully, spasming a few times.
"Take him to Croc. I don't need men like him around, and we're running low on supplies." The woman muttered darkly, accompanied by shuffling of boots.
"Right away." A voice answered, the Joker broke out in a cackle for a few seconds, coughing and curling into himself as his lungs constricted him once more. The woman outside the cell laughed bitterly.
"Don't strain yourself kid." The woman sneered, "On better thought do. Like I said, we're running low on supplies."
"Oh you know I won't be around long enough for that. I have someone waiting for me! Oh and he is anxious to see me. It's been so loooong!" The Joker whined tossing his head back dramatically.
"Thank god at that, you and your caped rodent can do whatever you like, just stay out of here. You bring too much heat to Arkham."
"Watch it sister, only I get to insult my... other half" Joker stated with a glare, gritting his teeth, and the woman laughed.
"Enjoy your stay kid. Glad you like the new cell." She called to him, her high heels clicking away and Bruce let out a strained sigh of relief. The Joker hadn't been lying, about any of it, he needed to save that man. He mentally shook himself, would he make it in time? No. He'd get caught and be in the same boat, okay it would be a ship, he is Batman, but still. It was better to get out of here and start tearing the foundation apart, starting with that doctor. Suddenly Bruce was painfully aware of his surroundings, it was just him and the Joker, in a locked room together. The madman had fixed him with a fascinated, wide eyed stare, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He bounced back onto his cot giddily, cocking his head to the side with a small chuckle.
"Oh! If only she knew! You were right here! In my cell! She'd be so jealous!" He tittered bouncing in his seat, squirming around in his jacket.
"Like the place? I'd decorate it! Buuuut, my options are pretty limited. Though to be honest, I think the – ." The Joker broke off with a feral growl then a small irritated laugh.
"He would approve. Definitely, it's a pretty high tech cage." He finished nodding his head, giving the playboy a strained smile.
"He? He who? Batman?" Bruce guessed and wished he hadn't. Pain shot through his legs and up his body, frying his insides. Seizing he collapsed against the wall, gripping his abdomen he slid to the ground, disoriented. The Joker's shriek turned into laughter, cutting through his stinging pain.
"Do, do, do not! Say that!" The Clown giggled as if they had just got off a ride he had suggested they didn't take. "Or! K. I. Double L, Oh, oh, Redrum backwards! Definitely! Not, that one." He tried to laugh again but just ended up coughing weakly.
"What the hell was that?" Bruce asked gruffly, letting out a few coughs of his own, his insides feeling sluggish.
"The floor, is on an electric circuit. It has, uh, trigger words." The Joker said excitedly. "Think of it as negative reinforcement for the criminally insane!"
"That's inhuman." Bruce exhaled placing his hand against the wall, he took a deep breath, before he attempted to push himself up, groaning in pain.
"Ever the hero." The Joker whispered darkly, watching the playboys every move. Bruce pushed away from the floor a little, his muscles protesting loudly. There was a creak and suddenly the Joker was on him, one pale hand jamming purposefully into his injured thigh. The Detective cried out in pain, his leg spasming, his back slamming against the wall again. Falling back to the ground, he slammed his fist into that pale scarred face, sending the lithe man flying across the cell away from him.
"What the fuck?!" Bruce yelled gripping his injured leg. Blood seeped through his pant leg. The Joker started with a low laugh, breaking out into maniacal laughter, before having to cut it short again, with pained gasps. The green haired monster was on his hands and knees now, lifting his head up he leveled Bruce with a feral grin, blood trailing down his chin. Realizing he just socked the madman in the face Bruce tried to play it off dramatically shaking his hand in pain, adding a little hiss for effect. The Joker swiped one straitjacket covered hand across his mouth wiping the blood away. He sat back on his haunches, cocking his head predatorily at the playboy a small knowing look marring his pale features, his lips thin as he took in the man in front of him.
"Tell me, Bruce, why does a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist need to hide his injury from the world at large?" The Joker emphasized the last word licking his lips hungrily. The secret vigilante held the panic at bay sorting through how to handle this situation. God what if he already knew? The Clown took a deep breath.
"Riddle, me this," The Joker exhaled, his eyes wide, never blinking, watching Bruce's face closely for any sign of recognition to the saying. Bruce kept his face a blank confused, irritated, he wasn't really sure anymore, but he didn't take the bait, didn't show the recognition.
"How does a ditzy, self absorbed, womanizer get caught cheating on woman once every three to four months and yet!" The Clown exclaimed lifting his index fingers up as he paused for dramatic effect, shimmying the sleeves down his arms, which took a second, until his hands were visible. "Can easily," His fingers dropped, "hide a shot wound from the media?" Bruce laughed bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief.
"The last thing I needed was to be placed in some romantic story with you. I could gag at the head lines. Bruce and Clown lover – ."
"Joker and playboy lover." Joker corrected.
"Shot tragically by the same bullet." Said playboy finished with a sneer, The Joker pursed his lips at his words.
"And I only get, caught, every once in awhile, instead of every time." Bruce continued emphasizing the word caught. The Clown pouted in disappointment an irritated glare leveled on the billionaire.
"I've been at this long enough to know how to hide my problems." He finished as if it were obvious, but The Joker didn't look quite convinced. The madman took in a deep breath, then stopped, letting the breath out in an irritated huff, he squinted his eyes at the billionaire, tilting his head another direction he opened his mouth, then snapped it close. He huffed again.
"You know..." The Clown trailed off, depressed, his shoulder slumped. His eyes lingered on the ground for a few seconds, pouting, then a feral grin ate its way across his face. He jumped up suddenly, before The Detective could take the time to stand up, stalking towards Bruce briskly, his eyes trailing from the man's boots up his body. The playboy tensed unable to move much, his muscles still processing the earlier shock.
"Why," he walked closer, "Is it," he kept his eyes from meeting Bruce's as the billionaire put his hand back onto the wall unsure of how steady his legs would be if he tried to stand up. He could take the Joker, but he didn't want to. That would just cement any idea the madman had of his identity. He should make a break for it, get out of the cell, but the Joker would be on him in seconds, and he wasn't willing to turn his back on the madman to attempt it. Then the Clown was too close to try.
"That your. Not." The Joker whispered, placing both of his hands on the wall above Bruce's head, his feet on either side of the man's outstretched injured one. Bruce looked up at the Clown, his green eyes hidden by a halo of faded green hair, his lips parted, revealing yellowing teeth, instead of his usual bleached ones.
"Scared," The Joker whispered, tilting his head up, finally meeting his eye. "Of me." The madman finished with a sensual smirk, slipping down the wall and into Bruce's lap, his hands trailing lovingly down the wall. Bruce tensed, pale hands framed his head, his dark hair contrasting violently with the white wrists. The Joker didn't place his weight on him, refusing to lose his advantage over the male. One of Bruce's arms was against the wall, ready to push himself up at any moment, the other held his injured leg, hoping the Joker wouldn't go for it. The secret vigilante wanted nothing more then to smash that scared face in with his forehead, instead he settled for giving the Joker what he wanted. That was it wasn't it? The Joker loved when people feared him, loved to look down on them. See them as lesser beings. It was difficult and, probably, not entirely convincing, Bruce had spent years perfecting his fear of nothing. He let his eyes widen and his breath quicken. Let his hand slip panicked against the wall as he stared up into those gleeful green eyes.
"Ah." Joker exhaled, closing his eyes with a little nod, one palm leaving the wall to twirl between dark strands.
"There it is." The eyes opened, fingers traced playfully around the shell of his ear, "The fear," he spoke the word like it was a lover, his fingers left to trail down Bruce's masculine jawline, the madman leaned in closer. His breath ghosting across the playboy's lips, reeking of days without care, the Detective could smell the stomach acid eating away at The Joker's insides. Bruce stared into those vivid green eyes, hoping to god he wouldn't have to beat the shit out of the Clown to get out of this alive. Ruby lips, even without the paint, parted and their breaths mingled for a second, the Clown's eyes half lidded. Suddenly the Joker scowled, his scars twisting, his hands shot down, gripping Bruce's throat, squeezing tightly. The Detective startled back, his head slamming against the wall, coughing, his hands clawing at the Joker's grip. They toppled sideways as he wrenched at those hands, attempting to get free, gasping for air. The Joker sneered down at him, his hands tightening, finally letting his full weight lay upon the playboys abdomen as he pressed down harder. Bruce scowled back, his own fingers digging at the Joker's, he shifted his feet underneath him, getting ready to throw the madman off , when the door behind him opened suddenly.
"Back it up freak." A gruff voice said, and the Joker released his hold reluctantly, sliding away from Bruce, letting his hands trail down the man's shirt, over his hidden muscles. The playboy gasped for air one hand gently cradling his neck, the other slapped against the ground helping him move.
"You have some death wish rich boy." Still coughing Bruce turned over onto his stomach, pushing to his hands and knees. Looking up he found Miles Duvall aiming a gun steadily at the Joker. Painfully the billionaire slowly got to his feet playing up how injured he was, well how much it affected him anyway. He leaned against the wall for support, sending the man a pitiful, yet thankful, look.
"Thanks." Bruce ground out painfully, making sure to keep his voice from dropping low, deep, guttural like the Bats.
"Yeah just get out. Why I ever thought you would be useful is beyond me. You're just some dumbass pretty boy who thinks he can buy the world. Just give me the damn card and get out." Bruce nodded his head vaguely patting his jacket down. He didn't have the key, of course he didn't have the key. He turned slowly to level the Joker with a blank stare. The guard followed his gaze, his hand tightening on the gun.
"Hand it over, unlike this guy I don't have a problem with dropping you dead, and making sure you stay that way." He grunted tightening his finger on the trigger. The Joker huffed in irritation, holding out the card.
"You ruin all the fun Griffins. One of these times, I will, actually, kill you when I get out. Wouldn't that be fun? I think we should make a date of it!" The madman hissed, leveling the guard with a sneer.
"Yeah keep trying." Duvall sneered back pocketing the key card, his gun never leaving The Joker.
"Will do Gandalf." The Joker winked half heartedly, slumping back onto his bed, his breathing labored. Bruce slipped out of the cell and the man shut the door behind them. The guard made his way towards the exit, muttering about changing the code. Bruce followed sending one last look back, only to find the Joker pressed against the glass again, a calculating look in his eye. Realizing the attention, the madman kissed the glass sweetly, leaving a smear of blood and spit behind. Reaching a finger up he drew it into a rickety smiley face, his own grin coming out to match it as he enthusiastically waved goodbye to the pair.
"He needs to be re-strapped." Bruce grunted in annoyance at The Joker's boundless energy.
"It's pointless. He only leaves himself in that straitjacket for fun." Duvall muttered opening the doors out of the building, he escorted Bruce in silence to the front gates, not letting the man start a defend his actions. He made sure the playboy drove off before he returned to his duties. The last thing he needed was for Dr. Mengele to find the kid.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Once Bruce got to his car he immediately called Barbara, pulling out of the Asylum's parking lot, watching the old guard make his way back into the establishment.
"Ummm isn't it a little early?" Barbara wondered, answering on the third ring.
"No." Bruce stated darkly. "I need your help."
"Yeah." She said as if that were obvious. There was a pause.
"Bruce are you okay." There was another bout of silence.
"I think he knows." The Detective finally admitted, another pause.
"You didn't actually go to the Asylum did you?" Oracle groaned his disbelief easily audible through the phone.
"Bruce?" She tried again, then sighed.
"You did. Didn't you? What happened?" Bruce took a deep breath.
"It doesn't matter. I need you to uncover their finances. I want to know where every penny of their donations have gone, I want background checks on all of the staff. Every one of them. Family history, high school records, warnings, strange vacations, anything out of the ordinary I want to know about it."
"Okay, Bruce. What happened?" She asked worried.
"Something's wrong with that place Barbara. There's a reason criminals keep escaping. I practically just bought my way into Maximum Security. Hell the doctor admitted she wanted The Joker out of there, said he brought the place too much heat." He scoffed his grip tightening on the steering wheel.
"Bruce, we've been over this, that isn't something you can fund."
"No. I couldn't fund." He corrected her. "I can now. Bruce Wayne has a personal reason to get invested. I can do this."
"Personally? Bruce. You don't do anything personal. You hire people to do it for you." Barbara insisted, her heart clenching at the hope in Bruce's tone.
"Well maybe that should change. Just this once." Barbara sighed again, knowing that Bruce's stubbornness would win out in the end. There was nothing she could say that would stop him.
"The media will have a field day." There was a long pause.
"Let them." He muttered darkly turning his car towards the courthouse.
By daybreak the next morning Bruce Wayne was the proud new owner of Arkham Asylum and damn did it feel good. He could finally control where his enemies went, and when they got out.
Yet a small part of him, one deep inside wasn't too sure about this plan, or the outcome.
XxxxxxxxxxxxX
Duh duh duh! Wherever shall I go with this. Bahahaha. The next chapter will probably be pretty long too. I got a portion of it done while writing this one and I was like jesus... this is long. I should make the next chapter this stuff.
ANYWHO! Kudos, Reviews, blah blah blah comments. Love. Give me love! Feed the monster.