Chapter 22
"Unmasked"
The darkness was slowly disappearing. Lucius Fox opened his eyes and saw that he was in a hospital room. Memories trickled back to him.
Being grabbed from behind in his home and blacking out. Awakening to a skull staring at him, hurting him, masked faces watching on. Then nothing until now.
He saw Alfred, asleep in the chair next to his bed, and Bruce Wayne standing at the window looking out, and he knew he was safe.
Lucius cleared his throat, catching their attention. "Apologies for lying down on the job, sir," he said weakly, but with a smile.
After the doctors and nurses had attended to Lucius, Bruce and Alfred had updated him on everything he'd missed. And quite a bizarre tale it was too.
"The gang war led to the most arrests in a single night for the GPD," Bruce said. "Some gang members are still out there, but without Black Mask's resources, they shouldn't be as much of a threat."
"I'm guessing you're no longer a wanted man though," said Lucius, irrationally guilty that he'd been used to incriminate Bruce.
"The younger Mr. Sionis helped clear Master Wayne's name," said Alfred. "And revealed the full extent of his father's crimes, including all members of the False Face Society, in exchange for leniency in his sentencing. Although taken advantage of, he is unfortunately still seen as an accomplice in the eyes of the law."
"All members of the False Face Society have been arrested too," said Bruce. "Thanks to the Dent Act, their money won't save them from prison time." He then put on an exaggerated cringe. "Which also reminds me; we're gonna need a couple new admin assistants. Long story."
Lucius gave a brief smile. "So Roman will still go to prison too?"
Bruce nodded sadly. "I intend to visit him regularly, put in a good word with the parole board. Roman… Roman just wanted to rekindle our friendship. There's no reason we can't. There's still good in him."
"Funny that, sir," said Alfred.
"What is?" asked Bruce.
"Roman's father preached that pain and suffering revealed one's true face. A ghoulish philosophy, but the torment he put Roman through brought out his true colours. Just not in the way his father expected."
They all reflected on this silently a moment before Lucius spoke up.
"You said you intend to visit Roman, to rekindle your friendship. Dare I ask if this means that Bruce Wayne is back?"
Alfred looked to Bruce with a hopeful smile, and Bruce nodded. "I've seen what hiding behind a mask did for Richard Sionis. He abandoned his real life completely, became his twisted persona. I can't let that happen to me."
Alfred put a hand on Bruce's shoulder, giving it a warm squeeze.
"And, on that note," Bruce said to Lucius, "don't you worry about work. Take as long as you need to recover. It's time I did a bit more in my day job. Starting by addressing the board about this decision to get rid of me.
"Bruce Wayne is here to stay."
Both Lucius and Alfred beamed at him.
"And we'll leave you to do that recovering now, Lucius," said Alfred. He and Bruce gathered their coats to leave.
Then Lucius remembered one detail Bruce had told him. "Wait. What about Hugo Strange? You said you defeated him, what happened after that? He still knows you're Batman."
Bruce slowly sat back down. "Vicki had given her evidence to the cops, so I took the armour off him and dropped him off at police headquarters." He sighed. "Although I'd already decided to return to my life as Bruce, I was prepared to accept the outcome of turning him in. We've faced this possibility before, with Coleman Reese. If I... silenced Strange, I wouldn't be myself anymore anyway, and I could always build a new civilian identity.
"But that won't be necessary."
Lucius sat up. "Oh? Why not?"
"Strange sealed his own fate. He was overconfident that he could withstand the psychological effects of his serum. But even 'superior' minds have their limits…"
"Professor Strange, do you know who I am?" Essen asked. "Do you remember me?"
In the interview room at Arkham Asylum, Hugo Strange sat across from her, a shell of his former self. Once a bombastic, arrogant genius, now a hunched, drooling, vacant-eyed lump in a straitjacket, locked up with the other crazies.
Strange just stared into the distance, his bald head listing to one side. After Vicki Vale's findings, an official investigation had been launched, the GPD liaising with departments in the other cities Strange had visited both here and in Canada. Although still early, they had enough to arrest him, and, when conveniently dropped off at their doorstep by "persons unknown," they'd found him in this state, rambling unintelligibly and twitching before falling silent and still. Medical examination had found him the victim of his own serum.
By his own hand or another's, they could only speculate.
"You said you knew who the Batman was," Essen said. "You were going to tell me. Can you remember? Who is he?"
Again, no reaction. Formerly an expert on the human mind, Strange was now a prisoner of his own. In his case, it was a prison within a prison.
"He hasn't spoken since he was brought in," said Fran from behind Essen. Prof. Strange's mousy, overworked intern had now apparently been offered a permanent psychiatric position at Arkham.
Essen guessed that Dr. Hunter just wanted to keep trading on the attraction of Strange's reputation – especially now that the man was himself an infamous criminal – and Fran was associated with him, but at least the kid was moving up in the world. Analysing her old boss instead of running his errands.
Fran continued her diagnosis. "The doctors at the hospital said that the dose he gave himself, while diluted to marginalise the physiological symptoms, still had a strong effect on his neurochemistry. Even if he does recover, it's done a number on his cognitive, emotional and memory centres. He may never be his old self again."
Maybe that's a good thing, Essen thought, resisting the urge to say it out loud.
"Well?" Gordon asked Essen when she stepped out of the interview room back into the corridor.
She sighed. "Yeah, he's nuts. We're not getting anything out of him anytime soon."
Gordon exhaled through his nose. At least, with Strange now an inmate, his mind lost, Batman's secret was safe. And the mayor wanted to award Gordon a medal for handling the gang war, swiftly followed by the arrests of the False Face Society and Hugo Strange, as well as the discovery that Richard Sionis had been alive and well for years until his son Roman shot him. Garcia no doubt wanted to highlight these victories to save face after praising and supporting Strange so much.
Essen went on. "Shame Strange can't tell us who the Batman is now." Gordon prepared himself for another dispute, but then Essen surprised him. "I would have liked to have shaken his hand. After he helped us in Robinson Park."
Gordon just stared blankly at her, not sure if she was being genuine.
"I've been thinking about that night a lot," Essen said. "About how our people wanted to stand by while the gangs slaughtered each other, then pick off the survivors. And how Batman – supposedly a lawless murderer – went out of his way, risked his own neck, to use non-lethal force.
"Really makes you think."
A heavy silence hung between them a moment, each looking at the other knowingly.
"Yes," said Gordon. "Yes, it does."
She knew, or at least suspected, that the story about Batman being a killer wasn't entirely true. Gordon knew how important his friend considered this deception, to his own detriment, but he couldn't deny the relief of another sharing the burden. Even if he would not confirm it to Essen, it still felt like a weight off his chest.
Perhaps he could confide in her though? With what she'd said before, in his office, she'd understand why he'd gone along with the lie. She'd be more understanding than Barbara anyway.
And maybe he and Essen had a lot more in common…
No, he couldn't think that way. That was not the kind of man he was. Things at home were rough right now, but he and Barbara would get through it somehow. They had to. He would not lose his way.
Desperate for a cigarette, he strolled down the asylum corridor to the exit, Essen following, and decided to do something about his concerns. "You know, Captain, you've been doing a great job. Major Crimes is in safe hands under you."
"Thank you, sir."
"I'm confident that I can take a step back, leave you to it. It's time I accepted that, as commissioner now, I have to be behind a desk a lot more than in the field. So… you'll be seeing less of me."
"I see…" Essen said, sounding disappointed.
"But, if you ever need anything… any assistance from 'special personnel,' for example… don't hesitate to ask."
They stopped, Essen giving him another secretive look. She smirked.
"I just might do that, sir."
The sun hung high over Gotham, basking the city in light, as Bruce stood at the window of his penthouse.
"I suggested to the board that we buy up the old steel mill," he said. "Renovate it, turn it into a factory. It shouldn't be left in ruins, condemned by its past.
"I also suggested a merger with Janus Cosmetics. They're gonna need some support after all this, and the staff don't deserve to suffer a bad reputation."
"Huh. The Wayne and Sionis businesses are joining forces after all," Vicki said from the dining table behind him, where they'd just shared a light lunch. "What did the board make of it?"
Bruce turned to face her, smiling. "Let's just say there's no arguing with the boss. And no more talk of voting him out either."
Vicki chuckled. "Bruce Wayne is almost as intimidating as Batman."
He laughed as she got up to join him at the window. She took on a more serious expression.
"How's Roman?"
Bruce became sombre too. "Recovering. He's getting the help he needs to come to terms with everything, but it will take a while to deal with the trauma. I'll be there for him all the way though. I've also asked to speak on his behalf at the trial, tell everyone what he suffered through. His sacrifice. How he did the right thing in the end. Alfred will be a witness; he'll do the same."
Vicki nodded. "So will I."
They were quiet a moment, Vicki thinking about that frightful night in the mausoleum, held captive at gunpoint during that series of shocking turns. The relief that none of the deafening shots fired were for her, quickly turning to horror at the sight of those that they were for lying dead. Roman's heartfelt redemption, freeing himself from a lifetime of control.
"You know," she said, "I never thanked you for saving my life. If you hadn't shown up, who knows what might have happened."
Bruce gave her a meaningful look. "You saved me first, Vicki. I was so caught up with the gangs and Black Mask that I never saw the full extent of the threat that Hugo Strange represented. If it wasn't for you, he'd have completely blindsided me."
"I suppose we're even then," Vicki said with a smirk. "Although I got a lot less bruises than you did." She let out a long sigh. "After all this, I'll be happy to go back to reporting on gossip and light entertainment."
Bruce knew she was joking but felt the need to encourage her. "You still have to report on what you found out about Strange. And the people need to hear the truth about Roman too. Don't shy away from the ugly side of Gotham, but remind everyone there's still good here as well."
"I'll tell them. What about you, Bruce? What will you do now?"
He took a deep breath. "I've been thinking a lot lately about family. Legacy. I like to imagine my parents would… recognise the good work I've done as Batman… but what they'd really want is for me to be a good person as Bruce Wayne. Rachel… Rachel wanted me to have an ordinary life too.
"There's still some gang members out there, and I'll help the police catch them. Once that's done… maybe Batman should take a step back for a while. I'll still be here if Gotham needs me, but with organised crime gone, that will be less and less."
They both turned to face each other.
"I've spent most of my life becoming Batman… It's time I started becoming Bruce. That won't be my mask any longer. Only true faces now."
Vicki smiled at him. "A new beginning."
They slowly embraced, holding each other before the bright, shining city.
Epilogue
Fran hung her college diploma up on the wall of her new office in Arkham Asylum. As a new resident psychiatrist, it was only a small office, but she was just happy to be here.
The criminal mind had always fascinated Fran, and she'd read a great deal on the subject, including the works of Hugo Strange. So, when Strange had been a guest lecturer in her final year as a psych student at NYU, she jumped at the chance to speak with him, gushing about his revolutionary theories.
Strange had been taken with her, and she'd been delighted when he'd offered her the position of his intern, studying at his feet, travelling around with him as he solved crimes and conducted his studies. Although Fran knew she could be a bit of a pushover sometimes (she was working on it) it was actually her suggestion to come to Gotham.
The city had become well known for its recent spate of bizarre criminals and extreme vigilantes, capturing her attention. It was too perfect for Strange to resist.
And now, Fran was working at the heart of the madness, where Strange himself was an inmate. Funny how things turned out.
She heard a knock at the open door behind her and turned to see Aaron Cash, Arkham's head of security, filling the doorframe.
"Hey," he said with a warm smile. "Just wanted to say, welcome to the asylum. Check if you're settling in okay."
Fran returned the smile and gestured around the tiny room, where she'd set out a few personal items. "Thanks! Yeah, making myself at home."
"Well, if…" Cash trailed off as he noticed the diploma behind her, narrowing his eyes. "Is that… Is that your full name?"
Fran sighed. This was her cross to bear; her silly name. "Yep. Guess my parents thought it'd be funny. You can see why I go by my middle name." She rarely told anyone the full thing, just as she tried to downplay her slim, athletic figure with baggy clothing and suppressed her naturally high-pitched voice and thick New Jersey accent. She wanted to present the image of an intelligent professional, and being saddled with such embarrassments didn't help.
Cash chuckled. "Yeah. Well, uh, like I was saying, if you need anything, just ask. Arkham isn't exactly the nicest place on Earth, but the staff do what we can to make it bearable for each other."
Fran smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Cash. I'm just eager to get started on the patients though."
He shook his head. "Better you than me. See you around, Doc."
They bade each other farewell and Cash left her alone in the office again.
There's one patient in particular I can't wait to meet, Fran thought.
She turned back to straighten the diploma on the wall.
The diploma which bore the name Harleen Frances Quinzel.