"You do cope," agreed Riddler, as the scene shifted. "That is, you all continue to exist without her. But you distance yourself further and further from your children emotionally – you know what it's like to lose someone you care about now, and you can't risk it happening again, so you voluntarily shut yourself off from them as much as possible, which breaks your daughter's heart. And of course this does nothing to help the situation with your son, who continues to blame you for his mother's death. It's easier for you not to deal with him, because to deal with him is to deal with all the emotions you yourself feel at his mother's passing, however much you want to pretend they're not there. Pain, sorrow, guilt, loneliness. But your son is Joker Junior by name and by nature – unforgiving and irrational, and, unlike you, adored Harley. And so he does something unforgivable and irrational."
They were standing in an alleyway in Gotham City, rain pelting the pavement and watching J.J. looking around for someone.
"I heard you wanted to see me," said a familiar voice.
They all looked up as Batman swooped down into the alley to join them.
"Yes," said J.J. "I wanted to talk to you."
"About what?" asked Batman.
J.J. was silent. "My mother is dead," he said at last.
"I'm sorry," said Batman, sincerely. "I know what it's like to lose someone you love. It can be very isolating."
"I don't care about that," snapped J.J. "The only thing I care about is making the man responsible for her death pay for it."
"And who is that?" asked Batman.
"My father," replied J.J. "She's dead because of him."
Batman was silent. "I'm not going to kill your father, J.J."
"I don't want you to," retorted J.J. "Everyone knows you don't kill, and anyway, I don't want him dead. I just want him put away for good. Not dead, but very much alive, and living with the guilt he must feel at my mother's death."
"Does the Joker feel guilt?" asked Batman.
"Maybe not. But he will feel regret. And humiliation, and betrayal, and pain, and shame," whispered J.J. "I will make him feel all those things. For Mommy."
"Have you spoken to your sister about this?" asked Batman.
"My sister hasn't stopped crying since it happened," said J.J. "She's not very rational at the moment. I have to be the rational one for both of us."
"And you think getting revenge against your father is rational?" asked Batman, gently.
"It is to me," retorted J.J. "Just like dressing up in a bat costume was to you when you suffered a similar tragedy."
Batman looked at him. "You know who I am?" he asked.
"I know enough," said J.J. "And if you don't help me, I'll make sure everybody knows. Including my father."
"I don't respond well to threats, J.J.," retorted Batman. "But I will help you. I want the Joker locked up just as much as you do, but I don't see any reason why he won't just break out again as he always does…"
"Because he doesn't have the proper security," interrupted J.J. "Trust me. I'm good with technology. I'll make sure he stays where he needs to be."
Batman studied him carefully. "You really want to act as a jailer to your father, to betray him…"
"He betrayed my mother!" shouted J.J., suddenly angry. "He promised he'd keep her safe! And now she's dead! She's dead and…and he doesn't care! He's just cold and cruel and heartless! I used to think he loved us, but if he can act like this in our hour of need, if he can just turn his back on his own family…"
He broke off with a sob, wiping his eyes. "Then so can I," he finished.
"Are you doing this for vengeance, or for justice?" asked Batman, quietly.
"I don't know. What are you doing this for?" asked J.J., calmly.
"Justice," retorted Batman.
J.J. managed a wry grin. "Then I'll tell myself the same thing you do," he murmured. He slipped him a piece of paper. "That's where we're staying now. Bust him whenever you want, drag him back to Arkham, and I'll make sure his cell is prepared for when you do. There will be no way out for him this time, no chance of escape. He'll live out the remainder of his days in a cage of his own making, haunted by thoughts of my mother, of how he should have saved her, no matter what the cost. Or…even if that wasn't possible, how he should have…shown any kind of remorse for her death, and sorrow for her passing. But there's…nothing. He doesn't show any emotion. He's just…the same, laughing, smiling, joking, pretending this is all just a gag or a game. But it's not funny anymore. He doesn't seem to get that. Without Mom…nothing's funny anymore."
Batman nodded slowly. "Your mother always thought that he loved her deep down…but I knew he wasn't capable of that. Not real, serious feeling. Harley was just a punchline to some joke he set up ages ago. He's probably annoyed that that joke's over, but there's no other feeling than that. Love is not something he understands. It's not funny."
"No," agreed J.J. "No, it's not. It hurts more than I ever could have imagined. My mother…loved her family very much. Her love was like the glue that held us all together. And now she's gone. And we're all falling apart."
He managed another smile. "I'll see you soon, Batman," he said, turning to go.
"J.J.," said Batman, grabbing his shoulder. "You should get help…talk to someone."
"I talk to my sister," he replied. "In your experience, has talking helped with loss?"
Batman shook his head. "No, but...you should do something. You can't let feelings of loss consume you. Believe me, I know how difficult that is."
"Yes, I know," agreed J.J. "Perhaps I can help you in your crime-fighting crusade. That would hurt my father too, and it would be a productive way to deal with my feelings. Wouldn't you agree, Batman?"
"I can probably find a place for you," said Batman, nodding.
"No!" shouted real Joker, bursting in on the vision. "No, no, no! You're not making my son one of your ridiculous Robins! He's got a brighter future than that, chasing some caped nutcase over the rooftops! He's got a brilliant Joker mind, and a Joker sense of humor, which would be wasted on your kind!"
"Joker, you can't interfere with this scenario," said Riddler's voice. "I'm in control, remember?"
"You will not control my son into becoming Robin!" snapped Joker. "I won't let you!"
"I'm not the one forcing him into that," retorted Riddler, coldly. "You are, by coping with Harley's death the way you are."
"Well, what do you expect me to do?" demanded Joker. "Fall to pieces? Become as glum and depressed as Bats?"
"That at least would show some feeling!" retorted Riddler. "That would be the natural response!"
"Well, I'm an unnatural kinda guy!" said Joker. "Harley always accepted that about me!"
"Harley is gone," said Riddler. "And nobody else is going to put up with your jokes as a substitute for feeling and emotion. Nobody else is going to accept your abuse and your coldness as affection. Nobody else understands you anymore. Only Harley did that. And she's dead."
Joker said nothing as the scene shifted, but he suddenly felt something in the region of his chest. Or rather, the absence of something, as if an organ that used to be there had suddenly gone missing, leaving just a hole and a feeling of emptiness.