#30: The Punchline (Burchette / Yarmovich)

The Not-Too-Distant Past:

Bruce Wayne drove the Aston Martin around the curves like a pro, grinning devilishly as his fiancée, Julie Madison, squealed in equal parts delight and terror.

“You’re going to get us killed, Bruce!” She screamed as she clutched the leather bucket seat, laughing in spite of herself.

He laughed along with her as the car veered around another sharp corner, the driver-side tires moving precariously close to the cliff. “Not going to happen. As long as you’re with me, I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

As scared as she was, Julie couldn’t help but be touched by his words. Her smile glowed as bright as the moonlight that a pale blue light over their skin

“Waxing poetic, Mr. Wayne?” She teased. “You are always full of surprises.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he quipped.

“I bet I don’t.” She laid her head on his shoulder as they approached the mansion. “You are the most perfect man I have ever met.”

“If only that were true, Ms. Madison.” He said as he pulled the car into the garage, parking it next to the Bentley.

She looked at him as he turned off the engine. His face had grown serious, as it often did; always either before or after some kind of cryptic comment. Her hand reached to touch his cheek before he could reach for the door handle; he paused and turned to look at her.

“What is it, Bruce?”

He gazed into her eyes, his fingers entwining around hers. He felt the cool metal of the band that the diamond was attached to, giving him a lift in his soul that he had never felt before. It was unbelievable that he had found her, that he had really found a love that was able to penetrate through the walls that he had built around his heart. Alfred had proclaimed it to be bigger than the second coming, something that had made Bruce laugh out loud. That laugh had come from deep within him - not the fake, polite kind that he had learned how to use when he was still a teen, and drowning in the darkness of his soul. He felt so alive, so happy; now was the time to tell her his secret. It didn’t matter at this point, anyway. The idea of remaining Batman was growing distant as his love for her continued to grow exponentially.

“There is something… something I should have told you a long time ago. You need to know everything before you become my wife.”

Her brow furrowed, but before he had a chance to go on, the intercom interrupted them.

“Excuse me, Master Wayne, but you are needed. Immediately.”

Bruce had only heard that edge in Alfred’s voice about half a dozen times, if that. It always turned his blood cold, and caused him to break out into goose bumps.

“Be right there, Alfred,” He shouted back and heard the intercom click off. “I’ve got to go… I’m… I’m sorry.”

Julie smiled tenderly, “It’s okay, I’m used to it by now. I’ll just grab my car and meet you at the benefit; you can tell me all your big bad secrets later tonight, how does that sound?”

“It sounds like a date,” Bruce said and took her into his arms. They kissed long and hard, as two people embracing love for the first time tend to do. The kiss was finally broken by the sound over the intercom of Alfred clearing his voice.

Julie giggled as she straightened herself up. “You better see what the emergency is. I’ll catch up with you later.”

He nodded and got out of the car, walking around and opening her door for her. She got out, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and headed for her own car.

“I love you,” he called out, the words flowing so easily from his lips that it still surprised him every time he said it.

She turned back, blew him a kiss, and practically skipped to her car. He watched her drive away— not knowing that it was the last time he would ever see her alive.

He went into the mansion to find Alfred waiting at the door for him. His butler’s face was ashen as Bruce approached him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s Master Dick and Miss Barbara, Sir. It seems that they found a lead on The Joker and went after him on their own.”

“What?!” Bruce shouted, his eyes growing cold. “I gave them a direct order to contact me and wait, if they found anything.”

“The message said that they tried, Sir, but could not reach you. It seems that you turned off your phones.”

Stupid! He thought to himself. I was selfish, wanted Julie and I to have some quiet time, no interruptions. I knew better. Damn, I knew better. I knew better!

“Show me the message,” he said as he headed towards the cave, his voice already dropping two octaves into work mode.



Twenty four hours later, Batman was making his way through the darkened corridor in the basement of Gotham General Hospital. He kept to the shadows and avoided the cameras that were in the corridors.

He opened the door to the morgue and moved quietly between the dozen bodies that were lying on gurneys, tagged and ready to be examined. The benefit had turned into a massacre, as only The Joker could pull off.

In the middle of the two rows of bodies, he found her. His black gloved hand shook as he took a deep breath and gently pulled the sheet back, gazing at her cold, lifeless face. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, refused to acknowledge it… until now.

Removing his gloves, he knelt down and touched her. He ran his hands through her hair, caressed her cheek as large tears swelled from his eyes and ran down his face.

He had been too late to save her. He had been too late to stop Dick and Barbara before they had been so badly beaten. He had let them down, all of them, and they had all paid a high price for it.

It would be the last time he let down his guard, he had sworn to himself. And it would be the last time that The Joker ever hurt him like this! He kissed her forehead and said goodbye; to her, and to the life that he knew now he would never have.



Now:

The first explosion came just after the sun began to shine on Miller Harbor. It went off in the heart of Robbinsville, leveling a two block radius of residential homes. First reports stated that nearly two dozen people had been killed in the initial blast, with almost a hundred more injured to various degrees. This was a conservative estimate that would later be raised, significantly.

Commissioner James Gordon had fallen asleep at his desk, having arrived at the scene of the fire late into the night after his confrontation with Batman. He had hoped to find somebody there from either side of the battle that was raging between the Dark Knight and the Demon, but all parties involved had cleared out.

His office door opened with a bang, jolting Gordon awake and making him fumble for his weapon before he realized that Harvey Bullock was standing in the doorway.

“Big problem, Commish!” He exclaimed as he barreled his way towards the desk. “Explosion in Robbinsville, a lotta casualties. The bomb was big. We’re talkin’ crater big.”

Jim was alert now, jumping up and grabbing his coat. “Where’s Sarah?”

“Already on her way there, boss. I told her I’d come get ya.”

The Commissioner swore under his breath. Huge bomb, massive damage and casualties; only one word came to his mind – Joker.

As he left his office he passed his secretary, bellowing orders. “Get all available personnel into Robbinsville as quick as possible. I also want you to get a hold of the Mayor and the Governor and patch them through to the car when you do. Hell just broke loose and we’re going to need—”

“Commissioner!” cried a desk Sergeant as he slammed down his phone. The entire office seemed to stop momentarily at the panic in his voice. “We’ve just got a report of another explosion, Sir!”

“Another explosion in Robbinsville?”

“No, Sir, this one is at Monolith Square. Two officers just called it in, said the bomb took out nearly three blocks. They’re going to need assistance.”

The air in Jim’s lungs left him all at once, and for a moment he swayed on his feet. Thankfully the anger and outrage took over and he instinctively felt for his holstered gun as everyone stared at him.

As he headed out the door, Bullock rushing to keep up, he began to bark orders, “Call everyone in. [/i]Everyone![/i][/b] If they’re on vacation, bring them back, if they’re on sick leave, drag them in! I don’t give a damn if they retired. We need everyone we can, out there. Dammit! And damn him for making me trust him.”



A sound was coming from the cave. It echoed in the deep passages, a strange noise that had never been heard before. Although it did not keep the bats from sleeping, it was loud enough to cause them to stir uncomfortably. What was that noise?

Alfred stepped into the cave through his usual entrance and headed down the steps with a tray that carried a grilled fontina cheese sandwich and wild arugula salad. His gait slowed halfway down as he heard the noise. It was something unusual… something that sounded familiar, but unnatural in this environment. His eyebrow arched as he realized he was hearing the snoring of a man in a very deep sleep.

Making the rest of the way down the man-made steps, he turned the corner to witness a sight he had never seen before. Bruce was in front of the main computer, his cowl hanging down behind him, his head slumped back to one side, and a little bit of spittle was forming around the right corner of his mouth. On the view screens were pictures of Penguin, Black Mask, and Two-Face, complete with the place where each of them were located at the moment.

Setting the tray down, Alfred approached his friend and gazed down upon the sleeping man. He rarely saw him like this, so totally drained, so vulnerable. His mind couldn’t help but flash back to their long history together; the nights that Alfred would sit with a very young Bruce Wayne while he waited for the young man to fall asleep. On rare occasions he used to hear a sniffle, but they were very rare.

Alfred Pennyworth had rarely crossed the line that distinguished him as a faithful employee, but in his heart, on these rare occasions when Bruce once again resembled that young child that he had raised, he realized that this man was as close to a son as he would ever have. It was the reason that he had stayed at times when common sense had screamed for him to leave.

As Alfred reflected with his thoughts, Bruce’s eyes suddenly flew open. He brought his leg out, tripping Alfred instinctively at the sight of someone standing over him. Realizing who it was at the last second, Bruce moved forward and caught his butler before the elder man hit the hard ground.

“Alfred!” he exclaimed with equal parts anger and embarrassment, “What do you think you were doing?”

“Up until you attacked me, Sir, I was considering putting a blanket over you. Now I’m wondering if Steve Dayton is looking for a new butler.”

“Sorry,” Bruce said shortly after he had steadied Alfred. “I didn’t even realize I was tired. It’s been a long few days.” He sat back down and turned back to his computer.

“So you’re just going to ignore it, then?” Alfred asked.

“Ignore what?”

“Your body’s desperate plea for rest… I’ve given up on the shower argument.”

Bruce said nothing as he began to study the faces again, hitting a switch and bringing up a photo of Ra’s. He entwined his fingers together and studied the face.

“He’s on the cusp of pulling his end game, I can feel it. I’m pretty sure I know what he’s planning, but not when. I need to know when. I’m hoping Black Mask or Penguin will be able to find the answers for me.”

“Yes… about Black Mask, Sir…”

“Not again, Alfred.”

“Yes, Sir, again. I still cannot fathom why you have chosen to align yourself with some of your greatest enemies to fight this Ghul character.” He raised his hand to stop Bruce’s explanation. “Yes, yes, I understand that this is your city and all that rubbish, but are you fully aware of the consequences, should Master Tim discover that you are actually working with the man who killed his father?”

“I’m allowing Tim to be trained to protect himself, but as I’ve told you before, Alfred, he will never be put into that costume. Two Robins was two more than there should have been. My days with a sidekick are over.”

“There is a difference between sidekick and partner, Sir. As fearless as Master Jason was, and as great a fighter as Master Richard has become—he may even surpass you one day—Master Tim is different. He has displayed an extremely keen intellect. Not to take away from the other two, Master Bruce, but young Tim could truly be the protégée that you have always desired.”

A flash of anger crossed Bruce’s face, but before he could respond, a small alarm went off. He jumped up and strode across the room, picking up a set of earphones and connecting them. Bruce listened for a moment, the color draining from his face. He eventually set them down, clutching the side of the desk top.

“What is it, Sir?” Alfred inquired.

“Police reports are coming in. Two bombs have gone off in two different sections of town. Large bombs, leaving many dead and hundreds wounded.”

Silence filled the cave and then Bruce took a deep breath. “He’s taunting me. Daring me to come out and play in the daylight.”

“Why would Ra’s blow up a city that he wants to control?”

“This isn’t Ra’s’ work, its Joker’s. Ra’s lost control, and Joker’s going to pay us both back. Damn it! Alright, I’ve got to go.”

“Sir, you haven’t slept in over forty-eight hours. You’ve hardly had any nourishment at all. Do you think it’s wise?”

“I’m the only one who can stop him, Alfred.”

The manservant picked up the tray that he had carried down with him. “At least take the sandwich with you.”

“That’s alright, Alfred. I’ll grab some Taco Bell.”

“You will not!” Alfred nearly shouted with indignation as he shoved the sandwich into the heroes gloved hand. “It wasn’t funny the first time you said it, and it still isn’t.”

Bruce hid his grin as he brought his cowl up over his head and adjusted it. “I’ll be taking the cycle. Make sure you stay close, in case I need you.”

“Yes Sir,” Alfred replied as he heard the familiar sound of Batman’s cape flap as the man spun around and headed towards his motorcycle.

Neither of them had heard, nor seen, Tim Drake as he hid near one of the other entrances to the cave. His face was full of anger. The man he had so quickly grown to trust and respect was working with Black Mask!



Victor Fries and the villain called Firefly stood waiting for their instructions. At the moment, their employer was just finishing up a rather large tirade, breaking anything in his path as he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Ra’s al Ghul was a man who, for centuries, had always gotten his way. He always planned everything down to the most minute detail. Losing control of his greatest weapon was a rather large chink in his plan.

When he finally quieted down, Mr. Freeze spoke in that nearly emotionless voice. “I did tell you that even with the implant, using The Joker would be tumultuous at best.”

“The popsicle is right. Nobody messes with Joker but the Bat. The guy is a hundred different kinds of crazy.” Lyons chimed in.

Ra’s turned on them. “Do not speak to me thus. I brought you both back to life and I can put you right back into the ground, if I so choose!”

“Father,” a female voice interrupted. They all turned to watch the voluptuous Talia walk into the room. “I’ve just received word that there have been two massive explosions in the city.”

“Joker,” both Freeze and Firefly said at the same time.

Ra’s turned back to them. “Go. Find him. Take him out. He is of no use to us, and he will undo everything that I have worked so long to build.”

Firefly nodded and walked out of the room. Victor Fries stared coldly at the man with the graying hair, wanting so desperately to eliminate the arrogant fool; however, now was not the time. He turned and walked away as well.

“Why are you bothering, Father?” Talia questioned. “You know that Batman will take care of this.”

He turned to his daughter and smiled. “It is not his city anymore, my beautiful daughter. The sooner he realizes this, the quicker it will be to defeat him.” He brought his hand up and caressed her cheek gently.

She smiled back at him, closing her eyes slightly at his warm and tender touch.



Gotham City had been unusually bright and clear on this spring morning, until the second devastating explosion. Smoke and soot began to pour across the city and up into the air, nearly blocking out the sun that was now high in the Eastern sky.

Batman drove the cycle in and out of traffic, nearly causing many startled citizens to lose control of their own vehicles. He could see the blazing infernos from the bridge as he crossed it. The first bomb had leveled living areas, the second a park, monument, and surrounding buildings. Sirens were echoing all over the city and traffic was nearly at a standstill as he exited the bridge and headed towards the northern end of town.

“A, are you there?” He asked, after triggering his cowl’s internal communication device.

“Dutifully standing by,” Came the crisp reply.

“The special numbers that I left you, use them. Tell Mask and Oswald that I’ll want to see them in the designated area. Matter of fact, might as well contact Harvey as well.”

“Understood,” came the curt reply and communications were quickly cut off on the other end. Batman knew that Alfred was more than displeased with the way that he was handling this operation, but he didn’t care. The Joker had always been insane, but he had always felt in control, and that fact was the only thing that kept his plans for mass murder on some kind of level playing field. If this was in retaliation for being used as a pawn in the game between himself and Ra’s, then Joker had probably gone even further over the deep end, if that was even possible. If that were the case, who knew how far The Joker would go.



“Whoa, boss, those things are pretty nasty looking,” one of the remaining members of the False Face Gang said as he examined the two humanoid creatures that stood before him.

The Joker’s grin broadened as he continued to paint their faces in clown make-up. Shading around their eyes in a dark red created what appeared to be blood streaming from the tear ducts.

“Why yes, they are beautiful. I’ve so been dying to use them ever since I got them from The Gambler in Las Vegas, but I’ve never had the opportunity. They were a gift, you see; given to me as a thank you for helping him uncover a traitor in his Royal Flush gang.” He stepped back and observed his masterpiece. “Good times… good times…”

“Where’d they come from, boss?”

“Oh, a little getaway spot called Apokolips. They’re creations of some mad scientist, and can only be controlled through the mental commands of its owner. I had three, but I had to use one to replace the Ace of Spades when I killed him. Oh, was the King of Spades upset… the original Ace being his brother and all. That is why you should always kill any of your siblings as soon as you can, you see. It dispenses with all that emotional baggage.” He cackled heartily and his cronies laughed with him.

“When do we release them?”

The Joker grinned. “We’re going to put them in place now, and as soon as the sun goes down, we’ll set this town ablaze once and for all. This morning was just an appetizer for the pathetic folk of Gotham.” His face suddenly contorted into an angry sneer, made even more sinister by the grin that couldn’t leave it. “The Joker gets played by nobody. I’ll show them whose city this is!”

He put the finishing touches on the last Animate and stepped back. “This one is still missing something. It’s not artsy enough.” He walked around it, his eyes widening as the idea came to him. He whipped out knife and sliced the ear off the android. It didn’t even make a sound. “Oooo, much better! Eat your heart out Van Gogh.” He laughed as he threw his paint and brush behind him and left the room.



Three hours after the first two explosions, and it felt as though the people of the city were collectively holding their breath. It was as if they knew that what had happened was just the opening salvo.

Batman did his best to stay in the alleys and the nearly non-existent shadows. Every available officer was now on the streets doing their best to help the emergency and fire crews with the injured—and the deceased.

The caped crusader worked diligently, making his way into buildings that were barely standing, places that rescue crews had yet to get to, finding any survivors that he could and bringing them down safely. To his growing frustration, he was finding fewer and fewer survivors, and more corpses. The death toll was already well into the hundreds.

He had just completed a check of Monolith Square when he heard the emergency report come from the police band that he had been listening to via his helmet.

“All units, two more explosions have been reported. The Gotham water district tunnel and the Wayne Botanical Gardens have been hit. First reports are that there were no injuries as the tunnel; however, the destruction at the Gardens is severe, and we’ve been informed that two Gotham elementary schools were on class field trips at the time. All available units, report to the Wayne Botanical Gardens, immediately.”

Batman swore under his breath, his anger continuing to grow as he twisted on the throttle and the cycle roared like a wild beast. He shot down a back alley, feeling his entire world slipping out from under him.



“This is the time!” Shouted Ra’s Ah Ghul to his gathered forces. “Gotham is in chaos, and its champion has lost control. Now is the time for us to begin our final assault! Go forth and bring peace to this forsaken and sinful city! In the name of your master!”

There was a shout from the throng of followers, a mixture of hired men and members of the League of Assassins. Weapons of all kind were raised in salute before they took to the streets.

And as Ra’s looked upon them from his balcony, the figure of his beloved daughter watched in the shadows, behind him. Her face was emotionless, her thoughts her own.



The Joker watched the reports coming in from the local news channels with glee. It was art at its purest form. Having been used had shown him the light. It should never have been about the bat, at least not directly. It was about what he was born to do: cause death, destruction, and chaos. Oh the glory of it all!

He turned to the legions of False Face members that stood, their weapons at the ready.

“Almost time for the sun to set on ol’ Gotham, boys! I’m proud to say that we’ve pissed off everybody. Now it’s time to bring the joke home, kiddies. Time to give them a punch-line they’ll never forget! Now get out there and make daddy proud. Milk and cookies for the ones who maim and kill the most! I’ll be along soon with my toys.”

As the others scrambled out into the streets, The Joker clapped his gloved hands and strutted over to the full length mirror, checking to make sure his suit was in perfect form. He smoothed back his green hair, gave himself a little wink, adjusted the large flower on his lapel, and headed out for his final night on the town.



Smoke and fire were everywhere at the botanical gardens, and Batman had hauled out several children and one chaperone by the time the first squad cars were able to arrive.

“There’s more in there!” He barked to the two men, pointing to the once-pristine structure that now lay in a mass of twisted metal and shattered glass.

Before the two could respond, the sound of gunfire was heard a couple of blocks away. Not just small, confined shots, but the sound of several automatics going off at one time.

“What the hell?” One of the officers shouted.

Batman was already on his cycle, noting with some relief that the sun was beginning to set over the smoldering city. “Just do what I said!”

The engine roared to life and the black cycle spun out. As he headed towards the gunfire, he flipped a switch on his communicator.

“A, are you there?”

“Yes.”

“Contact Mask and Two-Face; inform them that Ra’s is making his play and to move out now. I’m on my way to Fifth St. and Grange, where I’m hearing gunfire. Inform me immediately if there is any sign of The Joker or any more explosions. Other than that, radio silence from here on out.”

“Would you like me to inform you if our young friend has figured out who you are working with, Sir? If, for instance, he left a note claiming his right to bring down the individual? I would, of course, leave out his quite colorful, yet masterfully-crafted description of your part in all of this.”

Batman’s breath caught in his throat. Not this. Not now!

“Just do as I said!” He uncharacteristically yelled at Alfred. “And for once in your life, lay of the damn sarcasm, we’re in deep here!”

The silence on the other end of the radio stretched so long that for a second, Bruce thought he was now listening to dead air. Then Alfred’s voice came across, very clear, very precise, and very cold.

“As you wish, Master Bruce”

Then the radio went silent.



Number One Gotham Center was winding down for the day as businessmen began to head home to their wives, or mistresses, or the bottles of Bourbon that were calling their names. Two such men had made plans to get together for drinks at the bar just across the street. It had been an exhausting day for both of them. They were corporate attorneys who were doing their best to stop a merger from a very new and very powerful company called Fero. It wasn’t their first battle with corporate takeovers, but this one had been particularly difficult, and they had both decided that a few quick drinks would do them good.

At this point, it is safe to say that their names were not important, for as they exited the elevator in the main lobby they saw the flash before their eyes, and for just an instant, felt the heat sear into their bodies, and then they were gone.

Many other workers at One Gotham Center had their lives ended in the same way. The building itself teetered at the massive blasts that destroyed its foundation, causing it to come down upon itself, the massive debris flying everywhere and destroying several other buildings in the surrounding two-block area.

One homeless man, carrying a McDonald’s bag with the one hamburger that he had raised enough money that day to buy, was crushed by a steal beam that fell atop him. He was dead before he even realized it, his hand still clutching the dinner he was so delighted to have purchased.

And from somewhere in the concrete jungle of a city, the sound of a maniacal cackle echoed.



James Gordon’s car passed the devastation of the Wayne Botanical Gardens, Jim making sure to take in every piece of information that he could, as he and Bullock sped to the site of the gang shooting that had been reported.

When they pulled up, the found several of the False Face members badly beaten and tied up on one side of the street. On the other side were members of The League of Assassins, wearing the uniforms that Batman had warned him about. Also lying on the edge of the street was an older couple, both bleeding from gunshot wounds.

“I need emergency teams here on the double!” Bullock shouted into the radio control. “We’ve got wounded civilians!”

The dispatcher came back immediately, “We’ll get someone there as quick as we can, Sir. Commissioner, another report is coming in that One Gotham Center has been hit as well. The building is demolished sir, and there’s a massive amount of casualties in the entire area.”

“Dear God, save us,” Jim whispered as he leaned his head into the steering wheel.



A bullet whizzed by Black Mask’s head as he turned and fired back, striking a False Face Gang member. He grinned beneath the mask, knowing that it was one of his own— a traitor— that he has just eliminated. Served him right, he thought.

He could see Two-Face on the next street over, near the Gotham Superior Courthouse. He and his men were standing their ground against several ninja-style fighters. However, it was pretty obvious that they were grossly outnumbered, not to mention way out of their depth.

Black Mask could hear sirens in the distance. He realized that it wouldn’t be too much longer before the boys in blue showed up, and he and his men needed to be gone before that happened. He screamed orders to his gang, and they rushed the members of the League of Assassins, firing at will and taking out most of them in the ambush.

Sirius stood behind his men, feeling the triumph of the first victory of the evening, when he was struck in the back of the head by a piece of metal. He stumbled forward, lost his balance, and fell to the ground.

Turning around, he saw a boy, probably no more than thirteen or fourteen, coming at him. He wore some kind of red hood over his head with two eye holes cut out for vision. He was holding a large knife, but what drew Roman’s attention was the piece of metal that had struck him from behind. The shape was obvious… a batarang.

“Who the hell are you, kid?”

“I’m the one who’s going to make you pay for killing my father!” The kid screamed, his emotions thick in every word.

Black Mask chuckled. “This isn’t going to help my position, I know, but could you be a bit more specific?”

If the boy was going to answer, he never had time, as a figure suddenly appeared between them. The black cape was all Roman needed to see to know who it was, and he couldn’t have been more relieved, and more annoyed.

“Go home,” Batman ordered the kid.

“I don’t take orders from you. You’re no better than he is!”

“I need him,” Batman stated coldly, “This is not the time for your little vendetta.”

“He’s here, I’m here… it’s the perfect time!”

“You’re being stupid. Without him, this city might not stand a chance against Ra’s and The Joker. You want to be a hero, turn around and leave. Your need for personal revenge means nothing at the moment.”

“Why?” The boy retorted. “Because you’ve made a royal mess of yours?”

“Oh, that had to hurt,” Black Mask said with a chuckle, in spite of himself.

Batman whirled around. “Stay out of this. Get up and help Dent. Cops are coming; you need to get out of here.”

“If you let him go then everything you’ve been trying to tell me is nothing more than a lie, and you’re the biggest hypocrite I’ve ever met!”

Batman turned back around and walked up to Tim. He knocked the knife away, even though the young man tried to move out of the way at the last second. Tim felt himself being picked up by the gloved hand.

“Listen,” Batman growled, “Go. Home! You will get justice, Tim; I swear on my parent’s grave that you will, but not today, not now. The city is coming down around us and if Roman and Dent can’t help me stop it, then millions of lives are forfeited, and that supersedes any vendetta that either of us has.”

He dropped the young man and Tim fell hard. He jumped back up, adjusting the red hood on his head. “You’re not the person I thought you were. You’re no better than they are!” With that he turned and ran off.

“He’s coming home, A.” He reported into his cowl.

“Fine,” came the cold reply.

Batman began to cross the street, heading towards the courthouse and Two-Face and Black Mask. Suddenly, he was propelled backward as still another explosion tore through one of Gotham’s oldest and most honored buildings. Debris flew everywhere and Batman was struck several times, stumbling back and falling to the ground.

His vision blurred and consciousness began to fade, but before he went under, he saw the figure walk up to him. Though he could barely make it out, he recognized that cold, cackling laugh.

“Oh little bat, how far we have fallen. It’s okay though, I’m helping you! You and I are on the same side for once. That psycho, Ghul, wants this city, but he can’t have it. We both know that this is our playground. So I’ll make sure that there’s nothing left for self-inflated egotist to get his hands on. You just rest your little wings.”
Try as he might, Batman could not react, but just lay there, eventually falling into the blackness of sleep.



Harvey Bullock was swearing like a sailor as reports came in of the destruction of the courthouse. Gordon didn’t try to stop him, wanting to join in himself, but keeping a tight reign on his anger and frustration.

“Commissioner Gordon, this is Dispatch Central, come in?”

“Gordon here, what have you got?

“Deputy Commissioner Essen is on the scene of the explosion at the courthouse, sir, and reports that they’ve found several members of the False Face gang as well as the unknown members in black. Most of them are unconscious or dead. Ambulances and paramedics are on the way.”

“And…?”

“And she also has reported finding Batman, Sir. He’s unconscious.”

“That son of a—” Bullock started but stopped with the warning look that was given to him.

“Tell her to keep him there, we’re on our way.”

There was a short pause and then dispatch came back, “Sir!” the voice said excitedly. “We have a priority one message coming in for you, personally. It’s from President Stuart, Sir.”

Gordon swung the car to the side of the road, his heart racing. “President Stuart? The President of the United States?” Conformation was given and he ordered it to be put right through.

“Mr. President?”

“Hello Commissioner Gordon. I apologize for interrupting you at a time like this, but the news is out, and this entire county has been watching the decimation of your city. I’m calling to inform you that help is on the way. As of now, I’m declaring martial law in Gotham City, and I’m sending in the National Guard. I’ve been in contact with the Governor and Mayor, we’re all in agreement. This situation is out of control and you need immediate help. We’ve also tried to get in contact with both the Justice League and Justice Society, but to no avail.”

Jim bit his lip; he had prayed that it wouldn’t come to this. “Thank you Mr. President. We owe you a great debt.”

After the call was disconnected, the Commissioner finally exploded with his own favorite swear words, then grabbed the mic. “Gordon to Essen, come in.”

“Essen here.”

“Do you still have Batman with you?”

There was a moment of silence and Gordon knew the answer before Sarah said it. “Umm, no Sir. He came to and took off before we had a chance to stop him.”

Bullock cursed again and Gordon continued. “This is Commissioner Gordon to all units. As of now, Gotham City is under Martial Law. The President of the United States is sending in federal help. Continue your duties and do what you can to maintain the peace until they get here. Report any and all mob violence directly to me. All other orders that I have given you are to be ignored. If Black Mask, or Two-Face is sighted, bring them in… dead or alive. Finally, and listen closely officers, I want Batman brought in as well. I repeat, Batman is considered a fugitive of the law and is to be apprehended at all costs. Gordon out!”

Even Bullock was taken back at this last order. “Uh, Commish, you realize what you just…”

“You got a problem with it, Detective?”

“No Sir!” Harvey Bullock said as he adjusted his hat and tried to hide the smile that was fighting to spread over his face.



Batman swung through the night sky, using his memory of the buildings’ locations more than actual sight; the smoke had become so thick in the city that visibility was near zero.

Where was The Joker going? What was he going to do next? He had always been unstable, but having been used by Ra’s had sent him into a psychotic rage that, on some level, even surprised Batman.

This was all Ra’s’ fault. And if Bruce had to rip the city apart himself to find him and make him pay, so help him he would; however, first he had to stop Joker, or there was going to be nothing left of his city.



“I see you made it back in one piece,” Alfred noted as Tim stormed through the cave, ripping off his mask and throwing it to the floor.

“He’s crazy! Bruce has flipped his lid!” Tim exclaimed.

Alfred Pennyworth said nothing. In his heart, he was afraid that the young man was telling the truth, but he could not… would not admit it. Instead, he continued to focus on the large map of the city in front of him. Small dots blinked where the explosions had rocked the city.

Even in his anger, Tim stopped to gaze at the map as well. “What are you doing, Alfred?”

The butler sighed. “I will admit that Master Bruce has seemed to let his emotions get the better of him, at the moment. He’s in reactionary mode to the Nth degree. It’s not allowing him to think logically, and therefore I’m trying to ascertain some kind of pattern to this madness of The Joker’s.”

Tim said nothing, but studied the map for a while. Just as Alfred sighed in disgust and began to turn around, Tim let out an audible gasp. “I think I got it. Alfred, I need a marker.”

Hurrying over to the desk, Alfred retrieved the item and handed it to the young man.

“Maybe this is silly, but here’s what I’m seeing,” Tim said. “The first explosion was over here, Robinsinville, followed by the directly east, across town, at Monolith Square. The third one was at the botanical gardens, right?” He took the marker and drew a line straight across, showing that the three were in a relatively straight line on the map. “Now, the next one happened at One Gotham Center, followed shortly by the latest one at the courthouse.” He then drew a line between the two places. “Do you see what I’m seeing?” He asked this hesitantly, as if unsure of himself.

Alfred studied the map for a moment but shook his head, “I’m afraid not, but please, continue.”

“I think The Joker is playing connect the dots. And when he’s done, he will have carved out a large J into the city. All that’s missing is the spot of the final dot. Then, if he’s everything his file says he is, he’ll draw the lines himself. Which means he’s got bombs planted everywhere.”

Alfred nodded in dawning realization. “It is the best theory we have to go on. So if we triangulate the lines of the step from the gardens and the courthouse, that means the final dot would be… oh dear Lord!”

Tim’s eyes widened as he saw it too. “Wayne Tower,” he whispered.



Batman received the news less than a minute later. He gunned his cycle and headed towards his father’s legacy, ordering Alfred to contact Gordon with the information. He was trying desperately to stay in control, using the breathing techniques that had been taught to him so many years ago— including, he realized the irony, those taught to him by Ra’s himself.

He could see the tower up ahead, the bright white light blinking at the top of the building. It had always been his beacon, no matter how rough things had gotten in his city. It was always the last thing he gazed at before he retired for the night. Now it was in danger, and he would not allow it to be destroyed.

As he turned the corner, reaching the block that the landmark stood on, he nearly missed the figure leap out in front of him. He tried to swerve on the bike, but the large creature tackled him and they both flew, landing hard on the pavement and rolling several feet as the cycle crashed into the side of a nearby building.

Even though he was wearing his armor, Bruce felt the snap of two ribs as he hit the ground. He ignored the pain as he rolled with the fall and came up, braced for another attack. What he saw before him made his blood run cold.

Animates… two of them. He had heard about them from Barbara during the Apokolips Crisis and automatically he knew two things: one, they were much stronger then him, and two, they were being controlled mentally by someone… and he knew who.

Both creatures had been dressed in clown costumes, their faces painted all white with bright red lipstick and black mascara under the eyes, giving them the look of clowns that had long since died.

While the one that had tackled him was getting up, the other leapt towards his foe, only to grab air as Batman leapt out of the way, swinging around with a kick to the side of the monster. Although it caused the Animate to stumble, it was obvious that it did very little real damage.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, coming closer, and Batman reached into his belt as he ran towards the closest creature, the one that had tackled him. The Animate was ready for him and threw a punch that struck Batman squarely in the chest. The Dark Knight heard the crack of his armor and felt a sudden and intense pain his chest as one of the broken rips struck a lung. He gasped for breath but did not falter as he grabbed the arm of the android and used it to pull himself toward the thing, flipping his body around behind it.

He struck it on the back, used his legs to push it away from him as he flew into the air, landed several feet away, and brought his cape around him just as a small explosion went off and one animate went up in a million pieces.

It was then that he heard a short cry of anger and looked up. Standing on the rooftop directly above the fight was The Joker, the grin staying wide despite his obvious frustration.

As the second Animate came hurtling towards him, Batman brought up his grappling gun and fired up, connecting onto the roof. It pulled him up just as the android got near him, and by raising his legs at the last second, Batman was able to stay out of its way.

He shot up to the roof where a surprised Joker stumbled backwards at the sight of the dark figure.

“It’s over. Once and for all, it’s over.” Batman said, though he gasped for breath. He heard the GCPD pulling up in front of Wayne Tower, the voices of officers screaming out orders to help evacuate the cleaning crew and anyone else still in there. For a brief moment his thoughts went to Lucius Fox. His friend had a tendency to work late. He hoped this was not one of those nights.

“Over?!” The Joker exclaimed. “Of course it’s over! You always take me for an idiot, but I know I can’t beat you in a battle of fisticuffs. I’m not a total moron,” the Crowned Prince of Crime said as he began to giggle. “I’m just going to make sure that this time, my plan goes through before you drag me away.”

Batman began to walk towards his arch enemy, his chest burning, his head swimming, but refusing to stop.

“I surrender, Bats,” The Joker exclaimed, still giggling quietly. “Go ahead, take me to Arkham. I’m done.”

“You’re not going to Arkham this time,” Batman growled. “At least not right away. When I’m through with you, you’re going to spend some quality time in a body cast.”

The Joker’s eyes widened and he suddenly pulled out and put on a fake red nose and glasses. “You wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses, would you?”

“You’re not funny. You’ve never been funny. You’re just everything that has ever been wrong with society.” Batman smiled menacingly, visions of Julie’s corpse lying on the slab, Dick and Barbara’s broken bodies lying in the batcave, the sights right in front of him as he threw a punch that struck The Joker squarely on the fake red nose.

As his fist struck the bulbous prop, he heard the click from inside it, felt the trigger being released, and for the first time in his life, Batman realized that he had truly been beaten.

Wayne Tower began to explode, floor after floor. Each time, windows shattered, metal screamed in protest, and chunks of brick rained down over the city. Batman whirled around, the same horror in his eyes that had been there when the child had watched as his parents had been so brutally gunned down.

His eyes returned to the gleaming white light at the top of the tower as it first began to lean to the right, and then disappeared forever into the smoke and fire that enveloped it. His father’s legacy was gone… and he had pulled the trigger.

That was not the punch line that the Joker had set up, however. For seconds after the building went up, the streets themselves began erupt as explosion after explosion cascaded throughout the city. The roar was deafening, and just as Tim Drake had surmised, the dots were being connected. Everything – and everyone – in the path was being annihilated.

The cries of surprise and agony rushed up to meet him from the streets below, and Batman ran to the edge of the building, looking down at the mass destruction. Cars, fire engines, squad cars, all overturned and burning; officers and rescue personnel lay in the streets, bleeding, dying, or already dead. And he was just at the beginning of the destruction. He watched as his entire city exploded, going off in both directions. Tim had been right; The Joker was leaving his mark. One large destructive initial to always remind both him and Ra’s who the real owner of the city was, and that otherwise, there would be no city to own.

“Batman![/b]” A female voice cried out. Batman swung back around, but not before he felt the tip of the blade enter into the side of his neck. It was one of the few spots that was not armored, and the blade slid in easily.

If it hadn’t been for the whip that suddenly lashed out, catching the knife and yanking it away, the cut could have been much deeper. Batman stumbled back, tripping over the edge of the roof and falling off the side of the building. He heard, more than felt, the whip strike his left boot, catching him in mid-air, and he swung helplessly as blood began to pour from his wound, his breathing becoming even more labored.

He was dragged back up, hearing the woman grunt as she used every ounce of strength she had to pull his massive weight onto the roof again. When he was once more on the solid surface, he fell like a brick, face first, onto the cement.

Batman felt himself being rolled over and gazed into the eyes of Catwoman. The look on her face told him everything he needed to know. It wasn’t good.

“Leslie…” He whispered.

“No… Catwoman,” She replied, “But I get called that all the time.” Her flippancy could not hide the worry in her voice. “I’ve got to stop the bleeding, although I admit, my life would be easier if I just let you die.”

“Let me,” he mumbled.

“Sorry, somebody has to pay for destroying this city, and as much as I loathe to admit it, you’re our guy.” She sighed. She looked at him for a second, realizing what she had to do to save him.

He knew it as well, and although he would not stop her, he also realized that he couldn’t if he had wanted to. Instead, he lay there as she tentatively reached down and removed his cowl from his face. Behind her makeshift glasses, her eyes widened with recognition, but she said nothing and only examined the wound.

“Oh crap, you’re bleeding pretty badly.”

“Communication device… in… cowl. Call for… help. Code word, omega.”

Catwoman grabbed the cowl she had torn off and placed it on her head. She searched for a moment on the outside of it until she found a hidden switch behind the left ear. She touched it. “Hello?”

“Who is this?” A voice replied immediately. She had been to the mansion; she had seen Bruce’s face. She knew exactly who she was speaking to. As everything in the city was changing around her, she realized that what she was about to next would also change her life forever.

“Alfred, I presume. This is Catwoman. Batman is down and seriously injured. He told me to tell you, Code Omega. I’m trying to stop the bleeding to his neck, but it’s not looking good.”

There was only the slightest of a pause before the British voice came back. “Understood. I’m on my way… and… thank you, Catwoman.”

“Call me… Selina.”

“Of course,” Alfred replied as if pieces were falling into place for him.

With the conversation at an end, she continued to apply pressure to the wound, hoping that the bleeding would stop. As she listened to his labored breathing, waiting for help, Selina looked into the face of Bruce Wayne, lying unconscious on the rooftop with the city burning down below.

She leaned over and gently placed her lips on his, noting that they were still warm. Then she heard a small noise from above and looked up to see a small plane, shaped like a bat, hovering above them. As Bruce’s faithful servant lowered himself with a gurney, she waved once and dove off the side of the building.



Epilogue:

Twenty four hours later, Leslie, Tim, and Alfred watched in anger and frustration as Bruce pulled himself up from the medical bed that lay in the southern-most corner of the cave.

“You are in no shape for this!” Leslie nearly screamed at him. “You’re going to rip out your stitches, and I was barely able to fix the damage to your lung. As prepared as you are, this is not a fully functional medical facility.”

“I don’t have any more time.” Bruce said as he stood up, swaying a bit. He clenched his jaw as he made his way to the vault.

“Sir, what you are doing is suicide!” Alfred exclaimed. “The National Guard is here, it will only be a short amount of time before someone from the Justice League or Justice Society will be contacted. If you try to go up against Ra’s A Ghul now, in your condition, you won’t stand a chance.”

“My city,” he mumbled as he grabbed a fresh outfit. “My responsibility. He’s just as much to blame from destroying Gotham as Joker is… as I am.”

“I see,” Alfred replied. “You’re going to get yourself killed because you want to blame yourself for being tricked by The Joker.”

Bruce said nothing as he finished putting on his uniform. He turned to the three of them, standing there with anger, frustration, and fear in their eyes.

“No matter what condition Gotham is in, Ra’s won’t stop until it’s under his control. The mob war is still going on; chaos is winning, and my plan backfired. This is my mess, and I’m going to clean it up. Then I’ll come back here and the three of you can yell at me all you want.”

“At least wait until Master Dick can get here—”

Bruce cut him off. “There is no time, my friend. This has to end now. Now!”

He walked gingerly to the Batmobile and groaned silently as he sat in the bucket seat. He looked in the rearview mirror at his friends. He saw Tim run towards him before he shut the door.

“Bruce… those things I said… I didn’t mean…”

An understanding smile crept over Batman’s face. “I know, Tim. I was young once, too. And I was a lot like you. I do think, however, that you’re much wiser than I ever was at your age. Use that to your advantage.”

With that he shut the car door and took off, leaving Tim and the rest standing there with a feeling of foreboding…