Okay short but what the hell,I had to go to a party. Gods, I hate short chapters, sorry faithful readers...

"Can I have my phone call?"

Gordon shivered in the cold room and rubbed his arms. "Look Mr. Wayne, I'm not going to arrest you. But I think I do deserve some sort of explanation."

Bruce sat up, his expression relieved and puzzled.

"What do I need to explain?"

"For one, what are you doing in a black suit climbing buildings at night and doing karate chops on drug dealers." He paused. "And what the hell you're going to do to get out of here."

Bruce looked up at the ceiling. "Well the first is a long story. And to answer your second I can just walk out."

"Not really, Bruce Wayne in a Narrows hospital looking like someone's punching bag? Plus they have cameras out there. Lots of them. I caught two journalists trying to take your mask off."

Bruce looked up hopelessly. "Back door?"

"Uh, they've surrounded the hospital, and the police have good reason to let them in here, or at least they think they do. Mr. Wayne, I'm afraid we are going to be here a long time."

"So you're not going to arrest me?"

"Not at the moment, don't change the subject. I want to know."

Bruce sighed and lay back down, his ribs aching. "What do you want to know first."

Gordon blinked, his mind racing, there were so many questions that he needed to ask, so many that he wanted answered. "Let's start off simple."

Bruce grinned and nodded, stretching his arms. Gordon took a deep breath.

"Okay... Why bats?"

Meanwhile a figure in a trench coat on the other side of town stopped by a store looking at the many television screens that were showing the same story. The Joker cackled madly.

Gordon rubbed his eyes.

"Hold on a second. So crane wasn't the one who organized the fear toxin? It was Raz?"

"Yes."

"So where did you get the suit and the car?"

"I'm really not going to answer that truthfully."

Gordon reviewed everything he had been told. "That's quite the story Mr. Wayne. And here I was thinking you'd wandered off from a fancy dress party."

"Can I get a change of clothes?" Bruce staggered out of the bed.

The Commissioner was shaken out of his reverie. "Oh yes, of course, you must be freezing. Put your mask back on in case anyone looks in."

Bruce grimaced and pulled on the mask, Gordon shivered, just seeing that weirdly shaped helmet on someone without the suit gave him the shivers.

Gordon went in search of clothes.

The hospital was a maze of hallways, each bleeding into the next with a lifeblood of doctors, nurses and patients. Here and there reporters dotted the crossings taking notes getting coffee and rushing up to every doctor who wore scrubs and asking how batman was.

Every know and then Gordon would be forced to comment on batman's condition and he gave a vague picture of a coma or death.

The story fit together now, the little pieces of the puzzle that didn't quite mesh were molding into each other. But Bruce Wayne couldn't have done everything himself, he must have an accomplice, someone who got his equipment, organized his life as Bruce Wayne, the billionaire airhead. He was protecting someone. Gordon would need help if he was going to get Batman out of the hospital, not in a body bag.

Bruce seemed healthy enough but one didn't just walk out of a fall from a sixteen story building, not to mention the knives involved. Bruce would have to be watched carefully for a few days. The fall could have addled his brains or worse, cause internal bleeding. Wayne definitely had at least four broken ribs, it was a miracle one hadn't punctured anything important.

Bruce didn't have very many options left however casual he seemed. He was trapped in a hospital, and Gordon wasn't going to arrest him for murders that he hadn't committed.

God, what a nightmare.

Aha, scrubs, finally. Gordon snatched them up and began walking back, trying to make his way to Bruce's room. A blue uniform stopped him. He looked up astonished to see Randall Hughes standing in front of him. Randal was a good cop, one of the few that hadn't been corrupted by Falcone's reign over Gotham. Gordon liked him as a cop he could trust without reserve.

"Hey, can we talk later?" Gordon asked trying to dodge around the officer.

Hughes stood his ground, "Hold on a second, Commissioner, I think someone else should handle this one."

Shocked Gordon stopped and looked at the other man. "What? Why?"

"Look I've called the ICC. I don't believe you can judge the situation dispassionately."

Gordon just stared at him. Randall blushed and looked at his feet. "The man kidnapped your family. I don't want him dead before we can snap him in jail. The judge agrees he's put a restraining order on you. You're not allowed within two hundred steps of Batman."

Gordon closed his eyes. Oh, just when he thought things couldn't get any worse. "Look, what am I going to do? Strangle him with his sheets? "

Hughes turned even redder but his gaze was steady. "I don't know. Would you?"

Bruce was stretching in the corner, he looked ridiculous with his cowl and no suit. He was going mad in this tiny room. He wanted to be out, be gone, be free.

The door clicked open and Bruce stood up, a welcome on his lips, it faded as he saw who it was.

"Thought I'd... drop by." The Joker stood in the doorway, his makeup as messy and horrifying as ever. "I brought you flowers."

Yeah short but what the hell, I have to go now.