I hit the alley below in a blur, my eyes locked on my target. Three buildings over. Two floors up. My brain drew a straight line, my body already moving to follow.
The door of the building was swollen and soft from years of rain. A rusty padlock dangled uselessly, more for show than security. I didn't knock. My shoulder drove through the wood, the chain snapping apart like thread under my body. Splinters flew as the door groaned and buckled, the sound scattering rats into the shadows.
The stench inside was horrible. The kind that clawed into your sinuses and stayed there, rotting you from the inside out. Mold and copper pennies left to rust. Blood. It was everywhere. Smeared in streaks all over the walls, and dark as oil where it had pooled on the floor. I bit back the urge to retch and held my breath. Focus, Clark. Keep moving.
Another door stood in my way, this one armored with steel bars rusted to hell. My hand wrapped around the handle, the metal screaming as I twisted it into something unrecognizable. One hard shove, and it gave way.
The stairs were next. I vaulted them in two leaps, the walls rattling with each impact. Dust cascaded like ash from the ceiling.
The Joker was close.
Second floor. I froze in the corridor, activating my x-ray vision. Four rooms, all decrepit.
Empty.
Empty.
Empty.
Except… the last door on the left. It burned bright with a heat signature that made my pulse quicken.
My fingers curled around the handle. It crumpled under my grip, the door swinging inward to reveal him.
The Joker turned slowly, like he'd been expecting me, his eyes glinting with something unhinged. "Ah, sunshine," he drawled. "Right on time. I was about to start without you!"
I didn't answer. My eyes locked on the countdown blinking on the device in his hands.
2:37
Wires tangled over its casing like veins over exposed bone. My eyes followed the snaking lines, dissecting the device faster than a heart could beat. Two triggers. Overlapping. Each one guaranteed to trip if tampered with. No gas. This was pure obliteration.
Shit.
He must've seen the flicker of panic in my eyes because his face lit up. "Oh, don't look so glum," he cooed, cradling the bomb like a newborn. "I made this just for you."
"Shut it down." My hands flexed at my sides, itching to snap him in half. But I forced myself to stay still, to measure every twitch, every breath he took. One wrong move, and Gotham could lose five blocks. Maybe more.
He wagged a finger at me, like a disappointed schoolteacher. "You're not Batman," he said, tilting his head as if studying me for the first time. "No. Too tall, too… angry. And those eyes. Not his. Too much fire. Too much doubt. No, no, no. You're something else entirely!"
His grin stretched impossibly wide. "Let me guess... the bastard boy he never wanted? Or maybe…" He stepped closer, his gaze flicking to the splintered door I'd left behind. "A rogue angel. Fallen from grace. How tragic."
"I'm the last person you'll see if you don't shut the fuck up." I snapped. "Shut. It. Down."
"Darling," he purred. "Don't be so dramatic."
Fuck it.
I blurred forward, snatching the device out of his hands, fingers curling around the metal as carefully as I could.
"You're too late, sunshine," he sang, swaying on his heels. "That baby's wired tighter than a nun's pussy. Tick-tock goes the clock!"
"You're out of your mind."
"I prefer the term 'visionary'.
The bomb's timer ticked down, my gaze snapped down.
2:10
"You look stressed." He burst into laughter. "Here, let me help." He lunged, his hand darting toward the device, but I was faster. I grabbed him by the jaw, hoisting him clean off the ground.
"Where's the disarm code?" I snarled, slamming him against the wall. The plaster cracked under the impact, pieces crumbling onto his shoulders.
His laughter rose into a hysterical cackle. "Oh, my sweet, clueless, darling, there's no code," he said between gasps. "That's the fun part!"
The veins in my arm bulged as my grip tightened, my restraint unraveling thread by thread. "You're lying."
"Am I?" he wheezed, his eyes wide and unblinking, pure fucking madness. "Go on. Squeeze a little harder, sweetheart!"
The bomb ticked louder, each sound burrowing deeper into my skull.
1:43
Think, Clark. THINK.
With a snarl, I flung him to the side, hard enough to send him sprawling but not hard enough to break him. Yet. His cackle turned into a wheezing laugh as he hit the ground, clutching his dislocated arm. "Oh, sunshine," he gasped. "You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet."
My chest heaved, adrenaline burning hot, but I tore my focus back to the bomb.
1:26
No time to second-guess. I glanced up, my vision sweeping the floors above me. Trash, graffiti, rotted beams clinging to the last breath of their structure. An old squat, for sure. No signs of life. Good. No one else gets hurt tonight.
I crouched low, and shot upward, the bomb clutched tight to my chest. The ceiling shattered around me, debris cascading in chunks as I tore through the building.
1:12
I scanned the skyline, searching for the safest option. There. An abandoned high-rise stood just two blocks away. No lights, no people, no collateral. It had to do.
I shot toward it, the girders groaning as I slammed into the unfinished structure. Rusted scaffolding crumbled around me. I grabbed a length of rebar, twisting it into a makeshift cage around the device. My heat vision flared, the steel glowing molten red as I fused it into place.
0:24
The bomb hummed in my hands, each vibration rattling through my bones. The hollow of a concrete pillar caught my eye. Perfect. I shoved the bomb into the gap, wedging it deep. I tore a support beam free, the groan of metal splitting the night as I bent it over the girder's opening like a lid. My hands pressed the edges flat, sealing it like a tomb. My heat vision roared one last time, welding it shut, and I leaned my weight against it for good measure. No way the blast was taking this thing loose.
0:02
I launched upward, clearing the high-rise just as the bomb detonated. A muted WHUMP shook the building but left the structure standing. Smoke poured from the cracks, billowing into the dark sky. The city slept on, oblivious to the disaster it had narrowly avoided.
I exhaled sharply, adrenaline thrumming through my veins. The bomb was handled. But I wasn't done.
I sprinted back toward the building where I'd left the bastard. I crashed through the hole I'd torn open, the sound reverberating through the decrepit structure. The room was empty.
Of course, it was.
"FUCK!" The word tore from my throat as I scanned the area frantically. No sign of him. I forced my senses outward all at once, straining to catch anything that would tell me where he went.
A faint creak above me snapped my focus. My eyes shot to the ceiling, my gaze tearing through the structure. Movement. A shuffle of feet coming from above. There you are. The Joker wasn't as sneaky as he thought.
I tracked his movements by sound and heat, chasing the faint pulse of his body as he darted across the floor above. Two rooms over, heading for the rooftop.
"Yeah, keep going, asshole," I muttered, jaw clenched. "Let's see how far you get."
I slammed my fist into the decayed ceiling above me, punching through layers of plaster and insulation with a deafening crash. Dust and debris rained down, coating my hair and shoulders. My hands tore at the edges of the opening in an instant, widening it until I could haul myself through.
I shot up the last set of stairs just as I spotted him. The bastard was already halfway across the rooftop, running like a rat scurrying for the nearest gutter, his purple coat flapping behind him.
I hit the rooftop door hard, the force ripping it clean off its hinges and sending it skidding across the gravel. The Joker froze mid-step, spinning around at the sound. His grin faltered for a split second before twisting into something feral. "Wait... all that glorious racket, that was you?" he asked, half disbelieving, half gleeful. "And here I thought I was the only artist in the room."
I didn't give him a chance to keep talking. I hit the roof between him and the next building, planting myself like a wall. "End of the line, Joker."
He skidded to a halt, eyes flashing with that crazed look. "Alas, the show must go on," he sneered, reaching into his coat.
The knife he pulled out was a fucking joke. Small, laughable. It wouldn't even scratch me. Hell, I had a shower of AK-47 bullets for breakfast a few weeks ago and barely felt a thing. He could bring the whole damn arsenal for all I cared. Let him try, let him fail. Let him realize just how small he really was.
He spun around, the knife slashing wildly, but it might as well have been a plastic fork.
"Drop it," I growled.
"Make me," he sang as he darted toward the ledge.
I blurred forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat. My hand hit his chest like a sledgehammer, the force of it sending him sprawling onto the gravel. The knife spun out of his hand, clattering uselessly across the rooftop.
When he looked up at me, blood smeared across his teeth, he was still smiling.
"Party's over," I said, grabbing his collar and hauling him upright. My grip tightened as I brought him face-to-face.
"Oh, sunshine," his breath wheezed out in one ragged burst. "The party's just getting started!"
"You sick fuck," I spat, my fingers tightening around his jaw, smearing the greasepaint as his skin bruised under my grip. Every muscle in my body begged to end this, to crush his face into the wall until there was nothing left but pulp.
"Boo, you got me," he pouted. "What now? Snap-snap goes the neck, right?" He tugged at my wrists, his eyes wild.
My hand shook. Fuck, I wanted to. God, I wanted to so bad.
"Let's see you try your sick tricks now," I tossed back.
"I got one just for you," he snickered, his tongue flicking out to lick the blood from his split lips like it was candy.
His hand darted into his vest, pulling out a small, round device. The instant I heard the hiss of gas, my fist tightened reflexively, the sound of cartilage cracking under my grip. The Joker let out a strangled yelp, his head snapping back against the wall as green smoke began to spill from the device. His laughter hit a new shrill pitch, stabbing into my ears.
"Enough," I snapped, sucking in a deep breath before exhaling with enough force to blow the gas away. The chemical didn't do shit to me, but his laughter clawed at my nerves. I smacked the device away, the metal shattering against the wall in a burst of fumes.
I stared him down, and his eyes drilled right back into my soul.
"You've got such pretty eyes," he mused, reaching for my mask. "Let's see if the rest of you is as—"
I swatted his hand away, hard enough to hear the sharp crack of bone. The sound was satisfying in a way that scared me, like a dry branch breaking underfoot in the dead of winter.
"Outchie!" He yelped, cradling his fingers like a scolded child. "Someone's been eating their spinach."
I examined his hand. Three metacarpals, broken and bent at awkward angles. He didn't even care. His grin stayed stitched to his face, his bloodied teeth bared like some deranged animal.
I kept him pinned against the graffiti-covered wall on the roof, wondering what the hell to do next. My breath came sharp and shallow, my fists trembling with the effort to hold back.
How many people had died because I hadn't found him sooner? How many were maimed, broken, or grieving? And then there was Mom, his hands had been too close to her life. Too fucking close. My grip tightened, a searing heat building in my skull. It'd be so easy. So fucking easy, and for once, it would feel right. The world would be better off without him. A fraction more pressure, that's all it'd take.
Then why the fuck couldn't I do it?
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" he cooed. "Do it. Daddy Bat would be so proud."
"Shut the fuck up!" I roared, slamming him against the wall so hard that cracks splintered outward. His laughter hitched, though my closed fist took the brunt of the impact.
"Come on," he rasped, blood trickling down his chin. "Let it out. You'll feel better. I promise."
"Don't try me," I growled.
He just laughed harder, and for a heartbeat, I could see it. I could see what it would feel like to let go. To give in to the rage screaming in my chest. To let the fire burn him alive. To see his body break in my hands.
"Stop."
The gravelly voice came from behind me.
I cursed. I didn't need to turn to know who it was. "How did you find me?" I snapped, still holding the Joker pinned to the wall.
"Maybe if you didn't steal my gear, I wouldn't have tracked you," Batman replied calmly.
"You have a tracker in the suit?" I shot over my shoulder.
"I have trackers on lots of things."
"Oh, the Bat's been babysitting, has he? How cute! Daddy keeping tabs on his little boy." The Joker cackled, wriggling slightly against my grip. "Tell me, does he tuck you in at night?"
I stiffened. Did he think I was Damian? I was a damn foot taller than Bruce's actual son.
"You've got it wrong," I growled. "He's not my father."
The Joker's head tilted. "Ohhh, a touchy subject! Maybe he's just distant, huh? Missed your ball games, did he?"
"Keep running your mouth, clown," my lip curled. "We'll see if you're still laughing without teeth."
I felt it before I saw it, the faintest pressure against my chest. I looked down to see a blade lodged in my breastplate, clutched in the Joker's pale hand. His blood-streaked smile widened.
"Oops," he grinned as he twisted the knife just slightly. "Did I do that?"
I stared down at him, the world around me blurring at the edges. I wanted to crush him, to make him stop.
I yanked the knife from his grip, smashing it against the wall, reducing it to a mangled piece of metal. I pushed him up the wall one-handed.
"Enough. Hand him to me," Batman commanded. "There is no going back if you–"
Hell no. "He almost killed her!" I yelled, my eyes flashing red.
"Prettyyy!" The Joker exclaimed, his laughter climbing into hysteria.
"I know." Batman said, ignoring him. "I stopped him."
"Then why is he still breathing?" I shot back, pressing my squeezed eyelids with my free hand. "Why the hell is this thing still alive when you had him?"
"You can't afford to go down that path. Not you." Batman warned, his hand landing on my shoulder. "Not with what you can do. With your level of p–"
"With my level of power as you like to call it," I interrupted, my eyes snapping open. "I could end this madman's trail of death. Right now."
"Where do you draw the line?"
My jaw set hard. Before I could answer, I heard the click of a gun. The Joker was aiming an old Colt revolver at Batman. The world slowed as I moved, intercepting the barrel before the shot echoed. The bullet flattened harmlessly against my palm, the sting barely registering.
"You shouldn't have done that." My fingers closed around the handgun, disintegrating the weapon around the Joker's hand. He howled, his hand mangled as I tossed the remains aside.
I shoved him to the ground, hard enough to send him sprawling. Gravel bit into his broken hands as he tried to push himself up, but I was already yanking a length of rusted steel from the railing. In seconds, I'd twisted it around his wrists, binding them tight.
The Bat stepped closer. "I had cuffs," he grunted. "And ziplines. Disarming him should've been your first move. You might be invulnerable, but civilians aren't. This is why you're not ready for patrol."
I let out a harsh laugh, stepping back. "I got him ready to go behind bars. Can't say the same for you."
"I thought bringing the mother of the most powerful being on the planet to the hospital took priority," Batman shot back.
The words hit me like a blow to the chest. I gaped at him for a beat.
"You had a tracker on her too?"
His silence was all the answer I needed. Rising to my full height, I turned to face him.
"Are you monitoring my mother?" I questioned, my gaze drilling into his masked eyes.
Batman met my gaze through his mask, his pulse quickening just enough for me to hear it.
"Tsk," I scoffed at his silence. "So that's it. The only reason you're helping me. You're scared of me."
"Scared? No. Aware? Absolutely. Aren't you?"
My blood ran cold. This wasn't news to me, but I really didn't need the reminder.
"Ohhh," the Joker crooned from where he lay, eyes widening slightly as if a realization had struck him. "Mommy dearest, huh? Batty, you didn't tell me! I had no idea she was—ohhh, sunshine, you should've seen her scream! Such a lovely sound. I could bottle it and listen to it forever. It was a masterpiece."
My vision blurred, red bleeding into the edges. The fire surged in my chest, hotter than ever. I needed to let it out. My hands itched with the need to break something, destroy something, make him pay.
I let out a roar and dropped him like dead weight as slammed both my fists into the concrete just inches from his skull. The wall disintegrated, massive chunks of concrete tearing away and crashing down the exposed staircase in a violent cascade. The Joker was thrown forward by the force, landing hard on his hands and knees, his bloodied grin faltering as he scrambled frantically to avoid the gaping drop behind him.
He started giggling as he looked up at me, unblinking.
Before I realized it, my hand was on his collar again. I dragged him to the edge of the rooftop, his feet scraping against the gravel as he kicked uselessly. When I reached the ledge, I lifted him effortlessly, dangling him over the city like a broken puppet. The distant lights of Gotham stretched below, the wind whipping past us in violent gusts. Just one squeeze of my hand, and it'd all be over. The bombs, the gas, the bloodbaths. No more lives stolen.
"Go on," he choked out, his eyes bulging madly. "Do it. Mommy would want you to. Let's see what happens when sunshine finally burns!"
"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" I bellowed, my voice reverberating off the buildings around us, glass rattling in nearby windows. I could feel the heat radiating from my eyes, barely held in check. He wanted this. Hell, he was begging for it. My fingers flexed, his throat compressing in my grip.
"Don't," Batman warned. "If you kill him, you'll lose more than he ever could take from you."
The Joker's laughter bubbled up again. "Listen to Daddy, sunshine. He knows best."
The scent of jasmine and cedarwood hit me suddenly, cutting through dust and blood. It stopped me cold, for just a second. Then came the metallic whirr of a grappling hook retracting, followed by the thud of boots hitting the rooftop. The sound sent a cold twist through my gut.
"Wait!" Helena's voice rang out.
My stomach dropped, but I didn't let go. I kept my back to her, refusing to turn. The last thing I wanted was for her to see this side of me. The barely-caged monster threatening to break free.
The Joker cackled, his wild eyes darting to her. "Oh, hello, doll. Still rocking the scar, I see." He tilted his head. "Almost got it perfect too. Shame I was interrupted."
I turned my head slowly. Helena stood frozen, her hand brushing near her jaw where I could now clearly see it. Her curved scar was shaped like a half-smile. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't flinch.
I did.
"You did that?" My voice dropped. I turned back to him fully, and the temperature in my chest surged like molten steel. "You fucking did that?!"
He smirked, licking his teeth. "She didn't tell you?" He laughed. "Oh, it was a work of art. I was just trying to give her a smile. You know, brighten her day!"
Red overtook my vision. I couldn't hear anything over the roar in my ears, couldn't feel anything except the fire threatening to rip out of me and incinerate everything in its path. My grip tightened involuntarily, his breath hitching as the pressure on his windpipe grew.
"You're so dead," I growled, the world blurring behind a crimson veil. My free hand clenched into a fist, trembling from the restraint it took not to bury it in his face.
"He wants this," Helena cut in. "Don't give it to him. Do you think I haven't thought about it? After what he did to me? To your mom? To so many others? But if we kill him, he wins. He drags you down, and makes you like him."
"He deserves it," I shot back. "He deserves everything he's about to get."
My fingers twitched. My grip loosened. Without a word, I uncurled my fingers.
His body slipped free. His coat flared out like torn wings, catching the wind as he plunged downward.
For a split second, the world held its breath.
A/N: If you want to see what CK looks like in his patrol gear, head over to my Wattpad account (Outback-1). He's featured in the header of Chapter 28. All other chapter headers also give you a peek into the setting of the story. Feel free to explore and let me know your thoughts!