It might have been the end of the world. Apocalyptic darkness was all that filled a sky devoid of moon and stars, just a blank canvas stretched across eternity. No night birds gave their call and flitted from tree to tree, no animal rustled furtively on the ground. The world had entered its graveyard shift. Man too, seemed to have deserted its native planet, for there were no voices to be heard, no reassuring sound of traffic. There was no movement anywhere.
Batman stirred as the weight upon him lifted, but for a few moments he made no attempt to move. He felt disorientated, confused. But then the soft murmurings of Mister Freeze reached him and reality firmly reasserted itself. He stood up and looked to the unnaturally dark sky, dust and smoke from the explosion obscuring the stars. The house itself had been reduced to a pile of rubble, an ungainly mark on the horizon.
"He's gone," Joker said quietly to no one in particular. He stood a little way apart from the other man, posture as slouched as the rubble that used to be a building and his hands shoved into his pockets. The hectic make up on his face was smeared, mixed with blood from the myriad of small cuts that flying debris from the explosion had opened up on his skin. He looked like the corpse of a battered man that, given life, has crawled out of his grave to wreak vengeance on mortality.
"I could have saved him," The Dark Knight replied, turning away from the sickening sight in anger.
Forcefully turning his mind to more practical concerns, he knelt beside Freeze and checked him over for any injuries. The man was unhurt, having been out of the worst range of the blast, but he was still in shock. After having become so used to the perpetual cold of the suit, his body was under a lot of strain as it tried to readjust to normal temperatures once again. Batman was also well versed enough in matters of psychology to know that the German had been mentally devastated, as well as physically, by the destruction of his freeze suit, seeing it as the destruction of his relationship with his wife.
It was tragic, what had happened to Freeze, but the death of a loved one was no excuse for turning to crime. As much as Batman could understand and relate to the man's pain, he was still a criminal and had to be justly punished by the law. To make sure that there would be no trouble until the police could be notified, the caped crusader produced a pair of Batcuffs and secured Freeze's hands behind his back. The man gave no indication of being aware of his surroundings, locked as he was within his own private hell.
That only left him with the Joker to deal with.
As if he'd read his thoughts, although of course that was no longer possible, the clown spoke up. "We both know what's going to happen now."
Batman thought about how empty he felt now that the psychic link had been destroyed along with Strange. He also recounted the agonising mental torture of working with Joker, of sharing the madman's thoughts, the hunger for destruction that formed the heart of the man.
"It doesn't have to," he replied, not looking up from Freeze's cuffed hands.
Joker uttered a short, barking laugh that echoed eerily in the stillness. "It does. You know it does. No more talk Bats; there's been enough of that."
That was true. There was no reasoning with men like Joker, the only language they truly understood was the one they made their living out of – violence. He was unwilling to admit it to himself, but Batman knew it would be a relief to tap into the darkness that lived within his own heart and give in to it. He would serve justice to this murderer and use it to fill the emptiness he'd felt since the death of his parents. He owed nothing to the man now, not with the psychic link between them destroyed forever. There was only justice. The Dark Knight clenched his fists.
Then something struck him savagely across the back, right between his shoulder blades, knocking him to the ground. His armour protected him from the worst of the blow and he was able to use the momentum of it to launch himself sideways, lashing out with one foot to catch his attacker on the knees. But whatever had hit him in the back collided with his ankle, knocking him off balance at the most precariously balanced point of his kick and causing him to roll helplessly off to one side.
As he came to a stop on his back, he found himself looking up to see Joker standing over him, wielding a stout plank of wood presumably liberated from the wreckage.
"Get up," the murderer snarled down at him. And then, face twisting in demonic fury, he roared "Get up and fight me!"
"You'll never learn, will you Joker?" Batman growled deep in his throat. Tensing his muscles, he brought both legs up in a powerful kick to the abdomen of the man who just moments before had used his own body to shield him from the explosion. The kick was enough to send Joker staggering back, fighting to keep hold of both his balance and his oxygen, allowing the vigilante enough room to stand up safely.
Without a single pause, Batman headed straight for the other man. "Violence," he snarled, grabbing Joker by the front of his shirt, "is never…" he yanked the criminal close, "…the answer." With a sharp movement, he brought his heavily armoured forehead cracking down against Joker's, aiming to knock him out.
However, Joker didn't go down. Reeling and disorientated as the headbutt left him, he managed to wrench himself free of the Bat's grasp and back off out of range. Gone was his smile, only scar tissue left in its place, and gone were his taunts and laughter. The fight was no longer a game to him, it was a matter of life or death – or, to be more specific, Batman's death. He came at the vigilante in a towering fury, all semblance of control lost as he lashed out wildly at the air with his makeshift weapon.
Although the attack had the strength and ferocity behind it of a wild animal, it lacked finesse. The first few swings missed their target completely and Batman was able to halt the next couple on his forearms, batting them aside. However, the erratic pattern of the blows meant that some managed to get past his defensive guard and he took a few hits to the chest and head. If he were to avoid further injury and have any chance of stopping Joker, then he would have to switch to the offensive.
As the plank of wood came rushing towards him once again, he reached out and caught it in an open palm. Taking a firm hold, he gave it a sharp tug, at the same time catching hold of Joker's arm in his free hand and wrenching it in the opposite direction. The result was a nauseating crack of breaking bone and the improvised weapon flew off into the singed grass, lost from sight in the shrouded darkness.
"Is that the best you can do?" Joker giggled, a little faintly, his feverish eyes drifting down to survey his arm dangling uselessly from the Batman's gauntleted fist. The pain of the splintered bone in his arm must have been excruciating, but he didn't seem to notice. "After all we've been through, you're still not man enough to kill me."
With a flick of his uninjured wrist, a knife appeared smoothly in his hand. Before Batman could react, Joker had flung himself at him.
There followed a brief but ferocious struggle which held the potential to become an eternal stalemate, each man evenly matched in strength and fury, neither prepared to give up. They might have stayed like that until the end of time, trading punches and kicks forever, had it not been for the Dark Knight's vow never to take a life. Sensing that his opponent was holding back, Joker became furious. Snarling and growling like an animal, he went for the Bat with a sudden renewed vigour, managing to catch him off balance and knock him to the floor.
There were a few jumbled, incoherent seconds in which both fought for dominance and then a searing pain ripped through one side of Batman's face. He cried out, throwing Joker off of him with superhuman effort, before raising a hand to the exposed part of his face. Agony flared through his cheek at the touch and his gloved fingers came away bloodied. More of the viscous, metallic-tasting liquid filled his mouth and he had to spit and retch to keep from choking on it.
The sick bastard had opened his cheek up. In that moment, all of Batman's iron resolve never to become a creature like the one that had taken his parents from him melted away. Rage descended upon him and he was prepared to kill Joker.
Hero and villain became unidentifiable from each other, both driven by a primal need to kill, neither slowed down by their injuries. They attacked each other viciously, trading blow after blow until the Dark Knight's superior strength and training won through, allowing him to overpower Joker.
Pinned up against the trunk of a gnarled old tree by his throat the clown's muddy eyes widened in understanding of his imminent death. Any fear he might have felt at the prospect, staring down into the bloody and ruined face of his executioner, was only fleeting. His face broke into an amused grin.
"Do it," he taunted softly, his voice coming out in an uneven rasp as his throat was slowly crushed beneath the Bat's forearm. "Kill me. Become what you've always known you are, just like me."
In that moment, the man's dying words meant nothing to Batman. The higher functions of his brain had been cancelled out by animal fury. The only thing that held meaning for him was death and he intended to deliver it. The bat had eclipsed the man.
Thankfully, he was saved from himself by the mournful wail of a police siren ripping through the still night air. Coming back to his senses, his breathing ragged, he gradually released his grip on Joker, who slid coughing and choking down the tree trunk to the ground. He realised with a shock how close he had come to killing the man, to becoming a monster.
Slowly, he turned and his face was bathed in alternate red and blue as a squad of police cars tore up the road, their sirens deafening. They screeched to a halt outside the bombsite of the house and doors flew open, spilling out uniformed men and women led by Jim Gordon.
"Batman!" Breaking away from the others upon catching sight of the caped crusader, Gordon sprinted across the lawn to him. "What's going on? I head what sounded like an explosion, so got a few men together to investigate."
"Commissioner, are you-?" The Dark Knight paused, dazed, his thoughts a jumbled mess that was impossible to control. He made a conscious effort to pull himself together.
"No," Gordon returned shortly. "But that doesn't mean I can't report anything suspicious I might happen to hear." He was about to say something more, but then he squinted and took a closer look at the other man's face. "You're bleeding."
Batman winced and waved a dismissive hand. "It's nothing."
The other man's eyes lingered over the gaping wound a moment, but he said no more about it. "What happened here?"
It was then, his mind alert and functioning again like a man who has managed to shake off the residual disorientation of a vivid nightmare, that Batman remembered the Joker. He turned quickly and found, without much surprise, that the man had taken opportunity of the vigilante's distraction and escaped. A quick surveillance of the surrounding area gave no sign to indicate which way the criminal might have gone, but Batman couldn't let him get away, not again.
"Commissioner, I have to…" He started to say, but was interrupted by an exclamation from Gordon.
"Freeze!" Having spotted the prone criminal, the ex-commissioner went over to him. "Is he the one responsible for the explosion?"
Agitated, Batman found it easier and simpler just to say yes.
Gordon considered this, glancing back at the pile of useless smoking rubble. "Did everyone get out okay?"
"All except one, who ran back in. Commissioner, I really should-"
Once again he was interrupted, this time by one of the police officers running up. She went to say something to Gordon but then she caught sight of the Batman and her mouth dropped open in a perfect 'O' of surprise. For a moment her face blanched white with fear, but then swiftly recovering, she reached for the handcuffs dangling from her belt, hand deliberately brushing up against her holstered gun.
"Batman, you're under arrest for murder, attempted murder, disturbing the peace and terrorist activities-"
"What do you think you are doing, Sergeant?" Gordon interrupted in arch tones.
Surprised, the policewoman's probably oft-rehearsed words halted and she glanced uncertainly at him. "Commis- Uh, Gordon? I was arresting the fugitive Batman, sir."
"This man has just neutralised the terrorist threat Mister Freeze and delivered him to us, and now you want to arrest him for it? I think you need to reassess where your loyalties lie, Sergeant Peck. Get Freeze loaded into a squad car and then secure the perimeter."
Sergeant Peck faltered for a moment, clearly confused. But then she saluted with a "Yes sir!"
Exhibiting surprising strength, she went to Freeze and hefted him easily up beneath the arms in order to escort him to one of the waiting police cars. Even though Gordon was no longer Commissioner, old habits died hard and he was still well liked and trusted enough for his orders to mean something.
A wry smile on his face, he turned back to the other man. "I hope I made the right decision there." He was thinking of the stories that had been circulating about Batman's involvement with the Joker. Stories he'd been trying to avoid thinking about too much.
Batman realised with a stab of guilt that hurt more than his wounded cheek that he would have to let Joker get away once again. His first priority was to fill Gordon in on what had gone on, the dangers that threatened the political system itself in the guise of Janice Porter, and what could be done to handle that threat. He nodded curtly.
"You did, Commissioner."
At a noise from behind him, he turned his head sharply, wishful thinking suggesting that for some bizarre reason Joker might have returned, but it was only some policemen starting to sift through the rubble in search of Stange. Resigning himself to the task at hand, he leant in slightly closer to Gordon, lowering his voice to minimise the chance of being overheard.
Gordon listened carefully to what the man had to tell him, mulling it over in his head. Apart from a nod every now and then to show that he understood, he gave no outward sign of listening, as he asked no questions and no reaction passed across his face.
His attention was broken however, when Freeze awoke to his situation to find himself cuffed in the back of a police car and started shouting imperious threats. Gordon turned automatically to see if his assistance was required. He knew that when he turned back Batman would already have disappeared, but tonight that didn't matter.