Making the Best of It
Chapter 9
Watchtower
Aboard the space station some of the worlds' greatest heroes sat in the conference room going over the status of the renovations to the new wing of the Hall of Justice, as well as going over the finishing touches on the very public new headquarters of the Justice League.
Leading the meeting is the Martian telepath, the Martian Manhunter, the new chairman of the League. Others sat at the conference table besides the Manhunter. Superman, Batman, Hawkgirl, Flash, Aquaman, and Green Lantern John Stewart, whose architectural expertise has been invaluable to the construction of the Hall.
"How soon can the materials arrive to complete the renovations, Batman?" the chairman inquired.
The man in question was barely paying attention to anything spoken in the meeting. His thoughts were preoccupied elsewhere.
Superman watched the vigilante out of the corner of his eye. By the look on his face he didn't seem too pleased with the Batman for some unknown reason.
Batman, whom, gave no inclination that he wasn't paying any attention responded swiftly, "Should have all of the materials by the end of the week," he answered without missing a beat, considering the Martian gave a telepathic call to the black and gray man asking once more.
"Good," the green skinned man complimented. "With that said, I adjourn this meeting," he signaled.
"Finally!" Flash exclaimed racing off to somewhere other than the conference room.
Others soon followed; Batman was just about to leave until Superman cornered him.
"Batman," he called out, earning said man's attention, "we need to speak," the red and blue clad man informed, his voice foreboding.
The great detective gave the man a long and hard look over his shoulder before he roughly spoke up, "Make it quick." He was skeptical on what the blue boy scout wanted but he was sure he wouldn't like what he was about to hear.
Superman sent a nod of understanding Batman's way. "I heard Gotham's criminals were being delivered to the police with severe contusions and injuries," he began, ever the reporter.
"And how's that different from any other night?" Batman couldn't help but interject.
"It's different when they are purposely maimed," the kryptonian bit out, disgusted with how his friend was handling things.
White eyes narrowed not liking the blue boy scout's tone.
"I also have it on good authority that some of your enemies are missing, care to comment?"
"This an interview?"
"More like an interrogation," Superman clarified.
Batman shrugged, "Perhaps they went underground. Or gave up on crime," carefully steering away from this conversation. "Either way, I wouldn't know anything about it," he denied.
"I think you did something," the dark-haired man surmised. "Does Diana know what you did?" he pressed.
Batman's scowl deepened as Superman straddled a very fine edge. "Leave her out of this!" he barked.
"She's in the middle of this! I haven't even heard from her in weeks after you spirted her away to Gotham," the man practically accused the vigilante. "Did you imprison them somewhere like you tried with the Joker?" he prodded ferociously. He reminded the vigilante about the time he captured the mad man and kept him in an isolated cell in the batcave prior to the whole Barbatos and Dark Knights' invasion not too long ago.
The failure of that measure for the monstrous clown didn't bring up any good memories regarding that time.
He chose his next few words carefully, "Even if I did do something to these missing criminals, why does it matter? They're no longer a threat to others. No longer reaping the benefits of Gotham's revolving door policy," he pointed out, carefully no admitting to anything.
"Where does it end?!" the Man of Steel couldn't hold back anymore.
"When it's over," Batman firmly stated. "Don't you have enough to do? Since when has Gotham been your concern?" he countered. "Crime and corruption in the highest of places, the innocent tormented for pleasure or callousness. And me doing everything I can so that Gotham lives to see another sunrise," he surmised.
"Oh, I've long since stopped arguing with you about your methods. Psychosis vs Psychosis. People without hope. But you need to stop pushing the envelope on this. Sooner or later you're going to go too far. Or someone with authority will ask me to stop you and when that happens—"
"May the best man win," Batman interrupted the other man, his baritone voice full of confidence and eagerness to put the other man in his place.
Seeing no purpose in staying here Batman headed to the nearest exit, however, he stopped. Looking over his shoulder, "And Diana isn't a prisoner. You want to talk to her, pick up a damn phone," he yelled at the flying man, infuriation mingled into his words.
Gotham City-Leslie Thompkins Clinic
It was that time of the month for the incognito Amazon, as she attended her monthly doctor's appointment with Bruce's good friend Leslie Thompkins. As she gets closer to her due date, her appointments were soon become weekly.
Although, that doesn't stop the medical practitioner from calling the Amazon princess now and then checking in with her about how she was feeling and if the pregnant woman had any questions.
Diana considered Leslie a friend that she could confide in about her child. The fact that Bruce trusted her made it all the more easier.
Diana sat on top of exam table, clad in a gown, as the good doctor gave her a standard examination.
Bruce couldn't make it to the appointment because of a board meeting that Lucius Fox made it abundantly clear his presence was necessary. Needless to say, the man was disheartened that he couldn't attend, treasuring the times he got to see his daughter as well as quelling the anticipation building inside him as he witnessed her growth from within her mother's belly, although he promised the Amazon that he would try to make it if it was at all possible.
However, the raven-haired woman waved it off, merely saying that she understood and promising to get him a copy of the ultrasound. She was aware of how much he enjoyed these appointments just as much as she did.
After taking blood from the expecting woman as well as checking blood pressure, the doctor asked, "Any problems you would like to address?"
Holding gauze into the pit of her elbow the woman responded, "Such as?" looking for clarification.
"Nausea? Headaches? Dizziness?" the doctor rattled off, procuring a band aid for her patient.
The raven-haired woman shook her head, "No none of that," she nonchalantly answered, opening her arm for the doctor to place a bandage where she drew blood. "Well, I'm sure nausea is expected in my state," she joked, "but that stopped some time ago."
"Good," the old woman beamed at the expectant mother. "No other odd symptoms?" she pushed slightly. "Any fainting?"
Diana's toes twitched as she carefully gave more thought to the woman's probing. "No fainting," she answered carefully, however gave the impression she had more to say.
The doctor gave the woman time to willfully bring up what's bothering her. "Um," gaining the doctor's attention. She gestured to her chest, "I've been… leaking lately," she admitted with embarrassment. Her face burned a bit as soon as the words left her mouth.
"That's perfectly normal," Leslie immediately reassured the woman. "It's called colostrum," she started elaborating. "It usually happens when your breasts start to swell. It's a sticky liquid that's produced before milk begins to flow," she demonstrated her medical expertise.
Diana nodded her head processing the information. She silently chided herself for not finishing the reading of that baby book she got, but every time she started to the reality of being a mother and the information she received from the book overwhelmed her and completely forgot the information that she consumed, in which case she stopped reading and then when she started reading again, she had to start at the beginning once more.
Well because of this colostrum, she had to start stuffing her bra with tissues to absorb the leakage. Needless to say, she was embarrassed. Thank the gods she didn't have any accidents out in public. But she still took the precaution.
Thankfully, all leakages occurred while she was at home in the manor.
"Anything else?" Dr. Thompkins inquired, gesturing for the woman to lay back on the table so she could exam her further.
Complying with her, she did just that, tugging at the gown she wore when it ridded up when she sat back.
"You alone today?" Leslie uttered not meaning anything by what she said, pulling the portable ultrasound machine to the two women.
"Yes," Diana answered politely, as the doctor booted up the machine, while also pulling a sheet over the woman's legs covering her as she asked the woman to pull up the gown.
Diana wordlessly complied pulling her gown up exposing her ever expanding belly. She felt anxious to see her baby once more on the device's screen.
Her skin tingled as Leslie squirted the cool gel onto her belly. The raven-haired woman busied herself by looking around the room while Leslie tried getting the machine working, tapping buttons setting it to the appropriate settings.
So, occupied by some medical artwork hanging on the wall in the exam room, she didn't notice the old woman had pressed the wand into her belly. She jumped as contact was made in surprise, eliciting a chuckle from Leslie, who apologized for not giving any warning.
Leslie dragged the wand around searching for the fetus residing within her mothers' abdomen. The Amazon swallowed nervously as she awaited the sight of her daughter once more.
While she worked Leslie began to inform Diana about the state her unborn child was in. "Her heartbeat is detectable now," which got a beaming smile out of the pregnant woman. "She should be responding to sounds and shows periods of sleep and wakefulness," she continued to be informative.
Leslie pushed a button on the machine and a heartbeat echoed within the room, "There we are," she uttered, assuming Diana wanted to hear the heartbeat.
She assumed right as Diana smiled happily as she heard her unborn daughter's strong and steady heartbeat.
Distracted she didn't hear Leslie probing question.
"Diana…?" Leslie tried again.
Diana broke from her distracted haze, "Yes?"
"Have you felt any movement since the last time here?" Leslie inquired.
"… Once," Diana had taken a moment to consider the question. A week after she first experienced quickening, she felt her daughter unconsciously move within her when she was watching an interesting documentary on television. She almost started sobbing when she felt her child move once again. The feeling of her child growing so comfortably inside her made her heart swell with pride and excitement.
Leslie only nodded, satisfied with the information Diana contributed. She motioned to the screen and told Diana to see her strong little girl.
The Amazon gazed upon her growing daughter via a machine, which brought an excited smile to her lips as she noticed she was slightly bigger than the last time she saw her.
Her daughter's strong heartbeat fell into a soothing song.
"I'll print copies," the medicine woman stated to her patient, who offered her gratitude.
Twenty minutes later, Diana cleaned herself up and got herself dressed. Her outfit consisted of a blue sleeveless blouse and a charcoal skirt with tan flats, her normal dainty feet having swelled to the point of discomfort, and of course her glasses and hair tied into a ponytail for this hot summer day.
She grabbed her purse, that contained two new copies of her sonogram.
She silently departed her exam room, waving politely to the receptionists and nurses at the front desk, her next appointment already scheduled for next month.
She exited the clinic located in Crime Alley, making a beeline for her car parked in the clinic's parking lot, that was protected with surveillance cameras.
Crime in the area was at an all time low, according to the crime stats. Some speculate the residents in the area have had enough of the muggers and gangs leeching on the good in the neighborhood and formed neighborhood watch groups.
But Diana had a feeling that Bruce had something to do with it. Either it was because Leslie was a dear friend and that he wanted to protect her. Or perhaps he was finally making a dent in crime and was doing so because he lost his parents' here.
Or was it because Diana was seeing Leslie at the clinic?
Either way, people were benefiting and happier for it.
She was just about to make the turn to the parkin lot, when she noticed two miscreants wearing gang colors.
Her eyes lightly narrowed, sensing possible danger. Her body unconsciously tensed as she was prepared for trouble.
The two gang members noticed the woman and approached her, their pace was full of swagger, smug smiles on their faces as they saw a defenseless woman all alone on the street, they didn't even care that it was broad daylight out.
Ever the proud dignified woman that she was, Diana kept her eyes forward and her pace calm. Unfortunately, they were right in her path.
She stopped in her tracks as the Amazon was blocked by the two degenerates. Her face was stony and unfazed by the human blockade.
"Please let me through," Diana politely asked the pair, staring them directly in the eyes, standing her ground.
Their response was an unnerving smirk and one pulling a switchblade.
"Gimme the purse," the knife wielding one demanded of her, while his partner stood behind him trying to appear intimidating.
The raven-haired woman scowled upon hearing the young mugger's demand. Piercing blue eyes glared daggers toward them. "I am pregnant, young man," she pointed out, her hand gesturing towards her baby bump, in no mood for these fools.
The weapon wielding mugger's eyes glanced towards her belly noticing that she was indeed pregnant, he thought she was just fat.
Immediately, his hands shot upward as if he was being detained by the police. The knife fell from his hand clattering to the sidewalk. "Woah!" he exclaimed as he and his partner sidestepped her and walked as if they were part of the stone wall near them.
Diana kept her eyes trained on them as they moved away from her and sprinted off, getting far away from the pregnant woman as they could.
Huh, who would have thought, muggers with a code. The thought honestly surprised especially considering that she lived in Gotham City now.
Her head lowered as her eyes locked on to the discarded switchblade. Disgusted, she picked up the weapon with her index finger and thumb as if it was some filthy piece of trash she didn't want to touch with her whole hand.
She dropped it into the nearest sewer grate.
Satisfied with one less weapon on the street, she went to her car. Thoughts of a nice bath and some food, as well as thoughts of watching some Netflix with her feet up swirled in her mind.
It sounded so relaxing after the day she's had.
Her pleasant thoughts were abruptly upended as she discovered that someone had slashed her tires.
Scowling at the evidence, she glanced around hoping to find the perpetrator only to find no one else in sight. She briefly considered the two muggers that held her up were the ones responsible, but they were long gone by now.
Wearily, she sighed, she did not need this right now. What a way to end her day. She pondered what she should do.
Should she call a tow truck or call Bruce? Part of her didn't want to bother the man, considering he was in a very important meeting. But the other part didn't think she should simply stay in her car awaiting a tow truck. Not in this neighborhood.
Resigning herself, she pulled her phone from her purse and texted Bruce, asking him if he could pick her up.
Only after sending the text message to Bruce did she remember Alfred was always an option.
Before she could get in touch with Alfred, her phone vibrated, alerting her that Bruce texted back.
What happened?
Diana texted back.
Someone slashed my tires. I'm ok, she reassured him.
It took a few moments before Bruce responded again.
Okay, get your belongings out of the car and stay inside the clinic, I'll be there as soon as I can, he told her.
Thanks! She texted him back.
I should be an hour at most.
I don't mind waiting.
She placed her phone back inside her purse and gathered the rest of her things inside the car. It was only a bag and a binder she kept in the car. Some work she wanted to work on at home.
She returned to the clinic and took a seat away from the other patients and awaited her ride home.
She managed to get some work done, although she paused every now and then, her thoughts plagued by guilt of bothering Bruce when he was so busy.
Maybe she should have called a uber or something, she thought.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Bruce sent her a text, saying he was here.
Wordlessly, she gathered her belongs and left the clinic and joined Bruce inside his car.
"That it?" Bruce inquired, as she got into the car slamming the door shut.
"Yes," her voice short and to the point with him.
Silently, he drove away heading out of the neighborhood and on the way home.
It's been quite awkward between the expectant parents since Bruce and Diana had been intimate. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Diana was contenting herself by staring out the window, a blank almost bored expression on her face.
Neither had said a word to each other since they left the clinic.
He uncharacteristically swallowed nervously, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "How was the appointment?" he suddenly broke the silence between them.
The paused slightly before she answered him, stilling staring out the window, "She's fine," she said bluntly.
"Good," he uttered awkwardly, keeping his eyes trained on the road. "I'll have a tow truck pick up your car and fixed," the billionaire informed her.
"Thank you," was all she said, sounding tired.
Eventually, Bruce couldn't hold in all these thoughts and feelings about what happened between them. He offered to help her out and now their situation as well as their relationship has become precarious.
"Diana," he began, "we should talk," his voice soft and foreboding. Her silence seemed like permission to continue. "About what happened—"
"It was just sex Bruce," Diana interrupted him, her voice harsh. She finally turned from the window to the man, her eyes glaring at him in aggravation. "While yes, it was amazing, stop looking into it as something more," she instructed harshly.
Usually, it was the other way around. The reversal surprised Bruce that he felt differently about what happened between them. That there could be something more. Or at least something that should be addressed.
But the question was: why was he thinking it was more than just sex? That's what their entire relationship has been since Gehenna.
"Okay," he muttered to himself mostly, although she heard him, but said nothing.
She returned her gaze to the window, partially feeling terrible for losing her temper with Bruce. The truth was she was having difficulty understanding where they stood more than Bruce. They've slept together before but that was when they only had each other for company. They were home now, and they slept together again, well there was no sleeping involved but they were intimate again.
Although, Bruce volunteered to help her settle her libido, she could have declined but she needed some action.
And now once more her relationships were screwed up again all because she couldn't keep her legs crossed.
She would apologize to him later, right now she wanted to fall asleep and postpone their discussion even further.
The entire car ride home to the manor was in total silence.
Industrial District- A water manufacturing plant
It started two days ago; an unsuspecting priest received a package of holy water in the mail. Completely unaware of what its contents truly resided within.
As the priest prepared a baptism for born-again Christians, everyone was surprised that the holy water was in fact hydrochloric acid as it melted right through the bowl where the fluid would originally be poured into.
It was nothing short of a miracle that no one was seriously harmed by the mishap.
Batman immediately figured it was someone's idea of a sick joke.
It wasn't very difficult to figure out the man responsible for this.
The Joker.
Which brought the vigilante to now, at this water bottle factory, chasing another of Gotham's madmen.
The pale cackling man discharged his gun as he raced inside the factory.
Batman gave pursuit as he crashed through the windows of the factory, glass spraying everywhere.
He landed on top of a walkway high above the whole scene of the assembly lines. Instinctively, his head darted down to the ground searching for a speck of green hair or purple suit.
Out of nowhere, a bullet shoots out grazing the dark colored vigilante's left shoulder where his cape covered his shoulder.
Batman released a painful cry mixed with surprise.
Where was that madman? He wondered to himself as he clutched his injured shoulder, getting low and out of sight.
He gritted his teeth in fury and pain, pulling his hand away from his shoulder he saw it was covered in crimson.
Suddenly, the dark and gray clad man heard that unmistakable laughter, that unnerved him so many times even after all these years.
Cautiously, he lifted his head looking over the railing, his widened slightly as he caught a sight of purple running along the assembly line.
"Come on, Batsy! We haven't gotten to the fun part yet!" the mad clown shouted over his shoulder.
Following the script that has been played out for years, Batman clenched his teeth and leapt over the railing.
His black and purple cape widened gaining the appearance of wings, the cloth fluttered in the air as he landed with grace.
He automatically took covered behind a hulking piece of machinery, his head peaked out partially on the lookout for the madman.
Finding no sign of him, Batman gave pursuit.
He crouched behind an assembly line, walking low to keep his head down. Startled he jumped back slightly as the assembly line unsuspectingly came to life.
Water bottle cases were moved down the line, while water bottles were filled and capped by the machines manning the conveyor belt.
Batman sparred the machinery a glance before he returned to his pursuit of the Joker.
He wasn't difficult to find as he heard his menacing cackle from above. He found the pale man running out of the master control room where all the controls to the machines were located.
Narrow white eyes followed the fleeing man, pulled out his grapple gun from his belt swiftly. He fired clutching onto the metallic railing pulling him to the walkway. He landed effortlessly onto the metallic floor with a thud.
He chased the madman without missing a beat, only for the clown to jump off the walkway and onto the conveyor belt directly below.
"Oh, come on, Bats," he taunted, sitting comfortably on top of a water bottle case. "If this is about the acid at the church, I had nothing to do with it," he explained. "It was all the post office's fault," he assured. "They sent it to the wrong address," he swore raising his hand like he was a scout.
"Then explain why you were heading here when I caught up to you?" he growled.
Joker appeared sheepish, as he had no explanation that could explain his presence in the factory as well as what he had in store for this facility. He shrugged, "Oh, you caught me," he admitted. "I was—I am planning on pumping acid into these water bottles. Oh, a mild amount but still enough to sore some throats at the next kids' soccer game," he confessed.
"Those soccer moms won't know what hit the precise tykes," he expressed evilly. His twisted smile never left his lips when he spoke of his plan.
Unrestrained fury appeared on Batman's face as this monster was targeting children this time. A cold and lonely cell on the moon awaited that monster.
"But if it means anything, this scheme came to me after the mailing mix-up," the clown explained, in his own deranged way tried to offer a defense.
The distance between the two foes grew as the clown explained. Batman's anger rose as the next intended victims were children.
His daughter entered his mind at the mentioning. She would never be safe as long as this… man lived.
This battle between them had to end… tonight.
He dove over the railing, black boots slamming onto the cement floor with an angry thud, his cape decreasing his decent.
His legs moved on his own as his arms pumped, chasing after his nemesis.
The purple dressed man cackled as he saw his bestest pal chase him. God, he loved this. He leapt off the case he was sitting on, on to his feet. Automatically, he discharged his gun, aiming for the gooey center on Batman's head.
The vigilante wasn't deterred by the gun fire, he efficiently tilted his head side to side narrowly avoiding the oncoming bullets. He pulled a batarang from his belt and threw it at the madman not breaking his run.
The Joker dove off the conveyor belt easily evading Batman's trademarked projectile weapon.
He sprinted to the adjacent conveyor belt to the one he was on and leapt over it, he rolled as he connected to the cement floor.
Using the conveyor belt as cover he shot over it, the bullets piercing the purple side of the vigilante's cape, before Batman ducked behind a piece of machinery.
Batman grimaced as the situation was starting to get out of hand. He retrieved another batarang from his belt, yet he didn't launch it.
He fired his grapple as he went airborne, shooting into the air, his cape outstretched. His silhouette overshadowing everything on the floor.
The Joker's beady eyes widened as he saw Batman toss another batarang at him.
He cried out as he narrowly ducked the incoming projectile, which embedded itself into a water bottle case, water splashing everywhere.
Slowly, the Joker removed his hands that he used to cover the top of his head, he gulped as he saw the sharp weapon slice the case to pieces.
Looks like Batsy was bringing out the sharp stuff. His smile widened on his white face, oh he loved when Bats brought out the sharp stuff. Really adds flavor to their relationship.
Suddenly, the mad clown noticed a foreboding shadow hanging over him. He felt silent unbridled fury directed at him, as if the temptation of straggling him was a close reality.
But, as much as he loved Batsy close to doing the deed, they had to get through the first course first.
You mustn't rush a good meal.
And this "meal" tonight was appearing to very appetizing.
Faster than Batman has ever seen him move, the purple dressed murderer rolled over and an acidic green stream of acid shot from the posy on his label.
Instinctively, the vigilante pulled up his cape with his right arm, shielding himself from the corrosive acid.
Not waiting for Batman to miraculously have a contingency for such an occasion, picked up his gun and ran, laughing all the way.
Through clenched teeth, a white eye noticed the madman flee. But he couldn't follow as he tried to stifle the pain and the acid burned through his kevlar reinforced cape, burning part of his right gauntlet and some splashed on his left pectoral, burning through the polymer micro-fiber suit as well as some of the kevlar hidden behind the bat symbol on his chest.
Quickly, he pulled out a basic solution to neutralize the acid, applying it to his burns on his chest and arm.
He pulled off the smoking cape with groan, throbbing pain flowed through him. He noticed the blisters quickly forming on his skin, but he ignored them as his life was no longer in immediate danger, however they would need to be treated more expertly by Alfred back at the cave.
Finally, Batman summoned the strength to pursue. A testament to his will and determination when a vicious killer was planning to harm innocents.
He ran, panting slightly as he wounds throbbed sapping his strength. He paused a he heard that stomach twisting laughter. His head whipped side to side cautiously, believing his enemy to be close, but he was wrong.
The clown was farther than the black and gray clad man believed.
Stiffly, Batman's head turned as he heard someone whistle earning his attention. His eyes widened as he saw the mad man standing on the second-floor walkway. Close to him was a gigantic glass case, that was at least fifty feet tall, containing the water that would be dispersed into the water bottles.
And he saw The Joker with a twisted grin on his lips and an evil look in his eyes. "This baby's got enough hydrochloric acid inside to kill thousands in a sip," he exclaimed, gesturing to the case with his hand as if he was a performer.
"I'm thinking of starting a brand," he mentioned briefly. "How's "Sip of Death" grab you?" he asked genuinely wanting his foe's opinion. "One sip of this and… Wham! Dead kid!" he bellowed in insane excitement.
All his response was sullen silence. He was teetering on the edge of killing the monster. Dark hands clenched so tightly they might break, his wounds seemingly ignored.
A monstrosity of a gleeful expression appeared on his face as the clown discharged his weapon on the Dark Knight, whom was in the clown's plain view.
Batman immediately took cover, tossing a batarang as an afterthought. It missed him, embedding itself into the metal railing in front of the Joker.
The clown didn't stop firing, as his bullets demolished the machinery Batman used as cover.
Suddenly, a dark cloud emerged from Batman's vicinity, obscuring the area.
"Hmm?" the green-haired man grunted in confusion, confusion turned into surprise, it appeared that he had ran out of ammo. He clicked his tongue as he glanced at his gun, staring at it with disgust, as the inanimate object interrupted his fun.
He thoughtlessly dropped it as he pulled another from his breast pocket. His frown immediately turned upside down, his mood returning to an upbeat one.
Suddenly, a grapple shot out of the dark cloud embedding itself into the ceiling of the factory and Batman appeared behind it, a fierce grimace on his face as he threw three razor sharp batarangs at the clown hoping to disarm him.
Fortunately, they did stop the Joker's rampage. Unfortunately, there were consequences that night.
The projectiles stabbed into Joker's gun arm, eliciting a painful cry from the killer clown. Consequently, the angle they were thrown plus the recoil of discharging the weapon caused the clown's arm to bend, subsequently a bullet embedded itself into the giant case of tainted water.
Both Batman and the Joker's eyes widened in realization at what just happened.
"Oh. Well that's not funny," he flatly said, reality washing over him like a strong breeze. Water leaked out before the punctured glass was overwhelmed by the fluid inside making the cracks grow before a tidal wave of contaminated water shot out soaking the clown and flooding the factory floor.
Batman narrowly escaped from being splashed as he pulled his knees close to his body, being saved by his grapple gun, as he hung from the ceiling.
The Joker wasn't as lucky as he shrieked in agony as the acid burned him and forced him over the railing, falling onto the machinery.
His flesh burned and melted as he howled as the hydrochloric acid did its work.
He was reduced to a bloody pile of burned meat, bone and blood.
The air was pungent with death, as the acid burned the air in the factory. Melted metal collapsed, destabilizing the whole facility. The floor dissolved quickly, a sizzling sound whizzing the surviving man's ears.
Frozen, Batman witnessed the devastation of his latest run in with the Clown Prince of Crime.
Albeit it appeared to be their very last.
The Joker was dead.
After all these years, this was how it all ended between them.
Like it began… them and some dangerous chemicals.
It all felt surreal.
He knew it was going to end with one of them killing the other. Or the two just got too old to battle anymore.
Never in Batman's life did he think The Joker would inadvertently kill himself.
He should be happy or at least relieved that the most dangerous criminal in Gotham was dead. He wanted to kill him for years, but he knew then the Joker would have the last laugh.
He would force Batman to break his code and prove that everything that made him who he was would be completely meaningless.
But… why did he feel guilty?
It was an accident.
Or was it?
The following morning
The news stations were in a frenzy. By morning everyone in the world knew what occurred last night.
The Joker was dead.
Every news outlet in Gotham had an inside scope. Probably by some GCPD officer in need for a little cash.
Even the Daily Planet in Metropolis was writing about it. You can expect a few calls from some reporters to a certain individual, whom had an accurate account of the incident.
Commissioner Gordon was doing everything in his power to keep a tight lid on it. Apparently, there was a leak somewhere.
Bruce paid little attention to the media. His wounds providing a necessary distraction. Although, his mind was far away from everything. Far from Gotham, even though he sat in front of the batcomputer in the batcave.
Alfred had already tended to his wounds. The older man, whom was always the billionaire's confidant, was dismissed. In no mood to discuss last night's encounter.
He was still processing the whole thing himself.
His deep thoughts were interrupted as the media was yet again making a presumptive narrative.
A male reporter read from the teleprompter, "This just in. It is confirmed that The Joker died in his latest encounter with Gotham's Dark Knight," he exclaimed.
Bruce grimaced at the mentioning of the clown.
"The Clown Prince of Crime had plagued Gotham for over decade now, but it seems that has come to an end. Many wonder if the madman pushed the vigilante too far," the reporter speculated.
The billionaire scowled at the insinuation.
Another reporter on a different network speculated, "Is the Batman guilty of murder? Many believe he is as crazy as the criminals in Arkham," she spoke. "No doubt with the Joker's death, many will try and fill the vacuum of madness that he brought to Gotham."
The dark-haired man frowned as the reporter made a concerning point.
A crowd of reporters clamored at GCPD Headquarters all loudly asking their questions directed to Commissioner Gordon. The white-haired man appeared as if he hasn't slept at all.
"Commissioner, was the incident last night murder?"
"Is the Batman guilty?!"
Is he a suspect?"
"Has he been brought in for questioning? And if not, why?"
Many grilled the lawman demanding answers.
Expertly, Gordon raised his hands silently telling the reporters to simmer down. He began to respond, "As of right now, the investigation is still ongoing. Until all the facts have been discovered, I can't comment on anything," he explained. He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, he himself couldn't believe it, "But I can confirm that the Joker is dead," his statement elicited a roar of questions from the reporters.
"Commissioner, have you spoken with Batman about the Joker's death?" one reporter was heard over all the others.
A part of Bruce hated himself for putting Gordon in this position. But there was nothing that could be done.
"I can't comment on that," Gordon made the mistake of answering, provoking the reporter in question to press.
"Why can't you comment?"
The reporter was on him like a pit-bull with a T-bone.
If the white-haired man was nervous or caught off guard, he didn't show it. "Because I haven't spoken to him," he replied. He felt like he betrayed the man whose done so much for their city, but he made it clear to Batman years ago, he couldn't protect him.
"Will the Batman be arrested?"
"That's up to the DA," Gordon was quick to respond. "That's all for now," the mustached man stated before leaving the press conference.
The monitors turned black as Bruce shut them off, weary from the night and from the media dragging everything out.
He sighed tiredly; fatigue heavy upon him. He shut his eyes that became heavy, desiring to rest.
That was the plan until he sensed someone else was down here in the cave with him. Their light footfalls and fragrance narrowed it down to one person.
"Bruce…?" Diana spoke softly, as she carefully walked up to him, dressed in a lavender robe and matching slippers. "Are you alright? I just heard," she said gently, carefully laying a hand on his uninjured portion of his left shoulder.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, weariness filled his blue eyes. Her hand gave him a sense of gentle comfort.
"I'm fine," his voice flat and heavy, he didn't even spare her a glance.
"You don't look fine," she challenged. His upper body was covered in white bandages, concealing his right forearm and wrapped around his torso.
Of course, he returned her challenge, this remarkable woman brought out a side of him that he usually kept restrained. "I'm fine," he grunted as his wounds picked that moment to throb.
A triumphant smirk crossed her lips as she saw his pained reaction. He turned his head away too proud to admit she was right. Triumph changed into concern, "Bruce, I'm not going to ask you what happened last night," she said gently, her voice surprisingly soothing to him. "I trust you," she supported him.
Unconsciously, she lowered her head, resting it on his uninjured his shoulder. Her actions offered him an odd sense of ease. She buried her face into his neck, as if she had done this countless times, technically she had.
They were like that for uncertain amount of time, both enjoying the moment between them.
While enjoying the tranquil time between them, Bruce finally managed to summon the strength to assert his opinion on a very important matter. "I think… we should have a home birth," he stated to her.
As soon as his words reached her ears, she pulled back. Giving him an uncertain look before he elaborated.
"Given the state we're in and our shared concerns for the baby's safety, a home birth makes a very safe option," the billionaire expressed.
The Amazon was quiet for a very long time, her face full of concern as she gave his suggestion extensive thought. Bruce gave her the time she needed to process, he turned away from her so that she didn't feel like she was on the spot. Eventually, she responded, "I think it's a good idea," she conceded, with a small pleasant smile on her face. "Especially after what happened after my last doctor appointment."
Her acceptance brought a smile to his lips.
She suddenly got an odd look on her face that he couldn't place. Carefully, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, which stunned him, shown by the expression on his face.
She pulled back, a gentle smile tugging on her red lips, "Get some rest, Bruce," she requested softly.
Unconsciously, he stiffly nodded his head.
She turned walking away but paused, which struck the man as odd. She glanced over her shoulder, "Clark called," she mentioned, making the dark-haired man narrow his eyes in suspicion as well as having an annoyed thought involving the meddling kryptonian. "He said something about you having a private prison," she said, his heartbeat pounded in anxiety, was she going to be disappointed in him for the steps he's taking?
What she said next left him speechless, "But of course, I reminded him of the hypocrisy regarding him having a projector to an inter-dimensional prison," she put in a sardonic manner.
A playful smile on her lips tugged at his heart, which brought forth a reminder from when they were in Gehenna.
She left him soon after that, although the raven-haired woman's silent message was made perfectly clear.
Do what you need to do.
Things weren't perfect between them, but it was getting there.
Next: Baby Shower? Baby Shower!
So, the Joker's dead. I am sure some of you are bummed about that but it had to be done. The little wonderbat wouldn't be safe with him alive. I may introduce the 3 Jokers theory, if DC would get off their asses.
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