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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 21:33:52 GMT -5
 Detective ComicsIssue #19: “Helpless” Written by: Brian Burchette Cover by: Brian Hodges Edited by: Grant LaFleche |
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 21:49:35 GMT -5
His body had given out suddenly and without warning. The doctors were stumped by the disease. They had never seen anything like it, as if his body’s nervous system had just turned on him. They said it was close to MS, but they couldn’t put it in that category. It was different, unique, one of a kind, just like the man who now had it.
On good days, Bruce Wayne could walk on his own, without the cane. The cane But most days, he needed it. He refused to let Alfred help him in anyway, even at his worst. He still had work to do, both at Wayne Enterprises and at his real job.
His real job… that was the tricky part. He had redesigned his suit, with a little help. It was able to keep him walking, to augment the strength that he seemed to be losing on a weekly basis. But he didn’t know for how long.
He sat at the computer in the batcave, staring at the latest file on both the Joker and his accomplice in the latest break out, Jervis Tetch. One a homicidal maniac, both sociopaths of the highest degree.
“Sir,” Alfred’s voice came from behind him. “Master Dick is on the phone from New York. He heard of the latest escape and says he will be leaving New York in the morning to help.”
“Is he still on the line?”
“Yes sir.”
Bruce picked up the phone, “Stay in New York, I don’t need your help.”
“I knew you were going to say that, but listen to reason, Bruce. Half the time you can barely stand up, even in the suit. It’ll be like old times…”
“I don’t want you here! This is not your city anymore, and the old times weren’t that great to begin with. Just stay away.”
There was a short pause before Dick spoke again, “I know you don’t mean…”
Bruce slammed down the phone.
Alfred sighed. “If I may be so bold…”
“No, you may not. I’ll call you if I need you. Go clean something.” Bruce snapped without even looking up.
Alfred Pennyworth said nothing as he turned and left his employer to his work
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:02:18 GMT -5
James Gordon stood on the roof of the building, the signal had been activated for a while now, but there was no sign of him. He was just about to call it a night when he heard someone land on the roof behind him. He turned around to see Batman standing there.
“I didn’t think you were going to show.”
“I… I was busy. What do you want?”
“We got a recording from the Joker this evening. Here’s the tape. It’s addressed to the police, but it’s obvious that it’s for you as well.”
Batman reached out and took it from his friend. Gordon couldn’t help but notice the shaking of his hand.
“Are you alright?” He asked, genuinely concerned.
“I’m fine. I’ll get back to you after I analyze this.”
He jumped onto the ledge and Jim watched him stand there for a moment, swaying just slightly, and then he jumped off the side of the building. Gordon was taken aback by the meeting. He had heard Batman appear, watched him leave, and for a split second he had the distinct feeling that his caped friend wasn’t sure which direction he was suppose to go in.
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:04:53 GMT -5
In the cave, Batman played the tape again; listening to the rambling of the clown prince of crime, but nothing was making sense. The jokes were over, nothing was funny anymore. Time to end the charade. It kept going on and on.
It was his voice, the computer confirmed that, but there was no laughter, no mocking. In fact, there was only one mention of Batman and that was one simple sentence that he played over and over. “The bat loses everything he ever held dear. The one thing that has been his, it’s gone. Poof. No more.”
The one thing that was his? What was that? He reached for his cane, the cane, focus, the cane.. He grabbed it and struggled to get up. Damn his body! It had started as a monthly pain, a monthly loss of co-ordination, but not it was becoming daily. Even the new suit wasn’t giving him the help he needed anymore.
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:08:03 GMT -5
“Master Bruce, I have brought you a coffee and the daily paper. I am hoping that you might skip today’s board meeting and rest…”
“I’m not resting,” the lord of the manor snapped as he began to take off his costume. He swayed, his legs beginning to buckle as the pain shot up through his legs and into his back.
Alfred grabbed him before he fell, and removed the cowl. Bruce glared at him as he helped his master set back down, and then began to take off his boots, and gloves.
“Just leave me alone, Alfred. I’m not helpless. I can do this; I just need a moment to…”
“With all do respect, Sir, shut up!” Alfred said, his voice becoming cold and stern. “At the moment you are helpless, and you do need help. That is why I am here. It is why I have always been here. Until the doctors can figure out how to cure you, you will need help whether you want it or not, and that is my job.”
“…And if the doctors can’t find a cure for this?” Bruce whispered.
Alfred stopped and looked up, staring right into his eyes, “Then I will help you to the very end. Just as I did for your father and your mother. And you will accept this help with the same graciousness that your parents did.”
“Alfred,” Bruce started, and then chocked up, “Alfred, I can’t feel my feet anymore.”
They looked at each other for a moment and than for the first time in more years then Alfred could ever remember, Bruce began to cry. Not just a stoic tear, but a sob that came from his heart, a sob that he hadn’t heard since the death of Thomas and Martha Wayne.
“I’m losing it, Alfred. Not only physically, but mentally as well. I couldn’t even remember how to get back to the car when I left Gordon, last night. I was disoriented. I’m not even sure the new suit is going to help for much longer.”
“Then let me call Master Dick, or one of the members of the Justice League.”
“Not yet,” Bruce said, pulling himself back together. “I have to take care of this one last thing myself. While I still can. Now, let’s get this suit off so I can get to that board meeting.”
“Of course sir.”
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:09:40 GMT -5
Bruce Wayne left the meeting with all the whispering and hushed voices behind him. He knew what they were wondering. He was leaning heavily on the cane why the cane? It’s the cane and using all of his mental control to keep his feet from shuffling. He couldn’t show them his pain, his loss of control.
Alfred was waiting for him in the limo and opened the door for him as he left his building in the middle of the cities financial district. As the car pulled away, Bruce smiled to himself. It had been a very productive meeting. Even with the whispered concerns about his health, he had achieved several lucrative contracts that would not only keep Wayne Enterprises in the black for a good long time, but would bring in more income and investors into his city. He had left Lucius in his office, a very happy man.
The limo was two blocks away when the explosion came. They felt it in the car and Bruce turned back quickly to see it for himself. The first explosion came from the right corner of the Wayne Building, and then the other six came in quick succession; three more around the sides of the foundation, and then four more that blasted out from about every fifth story.
Alfred had brought the car to a halt, also staring in stunned silence as the building they had known for so long, the building that Bruce’s family had worked so hard to make the central beacon of light in a city full of corruption and decadence, began to fold in on itself. It was coming down fast and hard, and people were running in their direction, trying desperately to get away from the dirt, dust, and debris that was flying in their direction.
Before he could get out of the car, several more explosions rocked the area and he saw two more buildings begin to collapse. One was the Lex Luthor’s high rise that he had just recently purchased. The other, was the Gotham Stock Exchange, which was several yards from the car. Brick and cement was smashing onto the top and into the side of the limousine.
Without another thought, Bruce jumped out of the car, forgetting about his condition, and when he stepped down onto the ground, his feet gave out, pain shooting from his ankles all the way up through his spine. He tried valiantly to ignore it, he had been in pain before, but it was too much. He had not control, and he fell to the ground just as a piece of cement went flying into the window of where he had been sitting.
People were screaming all around him. Many were bloodied and wounded stumbling themselves as they tried to run away from the chaos. Alfred had jumped out of the drivers seat and was making his way to Bruce, who lay on the ground, watching the dust cloud that was just moments ago, Wayne Tower, come towards him.
He felt himself being lifted up, and once he was able to get his arms into the back seat of the car, he pulled himself inside, with Alfred coming in right after him. Then they felt the car rock as even more debris slammed into it. It seemed to go on forever.
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:12:10 GMT -5
“Master Dick is on his way,” Alfred said in the cave, later that evening.
They were both sitting, watching the news. In all, six buildings had been demolished, and a single message had been left: No more jokes. Playtime is over.
As choppers covered the scene from above, showing the devastation of three blocks of Gotham, Bruce sat in silence. He understood what Joker meant now. He was taking away his city, the one thing that meant the most to him. He was going to take it away blocks at a time, unless he was stopped. Yet, something was horribly wrong. This was the Joker, but not the Joker he knew. Something inside of the insane criminal had snapped, even though the concept was an oxymoron in itself.
“What do we do now, Sir?” Alfred asked him.
“We start by making sure that the families of everyone who died in our building are more then compensated. That goes double for… for…”
“For who, Sir?”
Bruce struggled. It was his friend, he could see his face, at least he thought it was his friends face. Why couldn’t he remember his name? It wasn’t even on the tip of his tongue; he just didn’t know it anymore.
“I can’t remember. He ran the company for me. He was my… my friend.”
“Lucius Fox,” Alfred said, gently.
Bruce’s eye’s moved back and forth, as if trying to remember the name. It did seem vaguely familiar. How could he have forgotten it? It was more then frustrating, it was maddening. His city was falling down around him, and his body was falling apart. Everything was spiraling out of control. Everything was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Help me into the suit, Alfred.”
“Sir, there’s no way you should be out, in your condition. The new suit relies on your very thoughts to make it move, but right now you seem to be in a state of shock, and we both know that if you get behind that wheel, you very well could kill somebody.”
“That’s why you’re going to be doing the driving.”
“Where are we going?”
“To find Tetch. I’ll get a hold of a couple of his old cronies. They may know where he is.”
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:15:01 GMT -5
The bat suit was functioning perfectly, but he wasn’t. The pain was becoming unbearable and because of that, he could barely keep his concentration enough to move the suit the way he wanted it to.
Tetch’s goons were exactly where he figured they would be, and his entrance, as always, was spectacular, crashing through the window and coming down hard on top of one of them. But that was as far as he got. He became dizzy, the room started to spin, and the sudden jolt sent such a piercing pain through his legs and lower back that he nearly blacked out. He rolled off the man, but was unable to get up, unable to think clearly.
“Well look who has dropped in,” said a familiar voice from the corner. “I’m sure you were looking for me. Why wouldn’t you be? I’m flattered, of course. I’d tip my hat to you, but it’s so warm and cozy where it is.”
Batman looked up to see the Mad Hatter standing above him, the silly grin planted on his face. He was rubbing his hands in a gleeful manner, and another jolt of pain caused the caped crusader’s body to jerk uncontrollably. Now was not the time. Maybe if he could reach for his belt, hit the emergency switch. Let Alfred know that he was in trouble.
“Should I offer you a cup of tea before I kill you? Oh dear, should I kill you at all. Since my good friend, Joker, helped me escape, I am sure he would be delighted to have the pleasure of doing it himself. My, my, you really don’t look very well. I could wait for him, I suppose. He’s in the process of blowing up four more buildings, as we speak. High rises, you know. Apartments and condo’s for the wealthy. He’s working his way out from the middle. If you lose the middle, nothing will hold. No, no, that’s not quite the way it goes.”
“What should we do with him boss?” One of the thugs asked.
Jerves turned, swinging his cane around in a theatrical flourish. “Oh just kill him. Joker is having fun destroying the city, before we leave, I might as well get some fun out of this endeavor.”
It’s the cane. CANE! Focus, damn you, Bruce screamed inside of his own head.
The two men walked up to Batman and pulled their guns, both aiming for the forehead. They grinned, but never fired off a round. Instead, two shots from another gun were fired and both of them dropped to the ground, dropping their weapons and clutching their legs.
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:16:52 GMT -5
Batman turned his head to the right and saw James Gordon come running in. The Mad Hatter turned to run, but was suddenly struck in the jaw by another figure. For a moment Bruce knew it had to be Nightwing, he had arrived. When he took a second look, though, he was caught off guard by who had knocked the short man out. It was Alfred.
They both approached their friend from the same side. Bruce kept looking between them, but he couldn’t say anything. The pain was too much; all he could do was gasp and moan.
James spoke first, “Backup will be coming soon, Alfred. You’ve got to get him out of here. We don’t want anyone seeing him like this.”
“Agreed. I will get him to the car, and then remove the suit and get him to the hospital. The disease has progressed faster then his doctors thought it would. I don’t think there’s much time left.”
The Commissioner patted his friend on the shoulder. “You’ve done well, my friend. More then any one man could have dreamt of doing. Always know that your secret will be safe with me. And that the legend of Batman will live on, I swear that to you.”
Bruce was having a hard time dealing with all the input coming towards him. James and Alfred talking as if Jim knew, as if he had known for a while. Had he? Gordon wasn’t a stupid man, he knew, like everyone else in town, that Bruce Wayne had contracted a deadly illness. He had seen the way he had hesitated on the roof of police headquarters. Putting two and two together wouldn’t be that hard. There was so much he wanted to say to Jim; so much that he wanted to share, but the pain was blinding, and he could do nothing as Alfred struggled, and finally picked him up, carrying him out toward the back door.
As they walked away, he heard Jim speak to Tetch.
“I don’t think we want you to have this anymore,” he said as he removed the man’s top hat.
From his position he could watched as his friend lifted the hat with both hands. Then, without warning, the top sprang open and out popped a doll sized Joker, on a spring. One word held between its little hands: BOOM.
They were at the door when Bruce was able to fight through the pain enough to scream out a warning, but it was too late… far too late.
The hat exploded, and with it, most of the room. He watched as both James Gordon and the Mad Hatter were incinerated instantly. The room became one huge fireball and he felt Alfred and himself being thrown forward, out into the night air. Debris fell all around
them and just before Batman blacked out, he saw Tetch’s cane land only inches from his face.
Just grab it. Then he was gone…
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:19:53 GMT -5
He didn’t know how long he had been out, but he was lying in his bed, with Alfred and Leslie standing near him. One glance from both of them and he knew that it wasn’t good. Although he wasn’t in any pain at the moment, he also could not feel anything in his lower extremities. They moved towards him when they saw that he was awake.
“Alfred,” Bruce spoke and realized by the weight of his tongue, why he felt no pain. He was being drugged. Pretty heavily from how he was feeling. “Jim?”
“He’s gone, Sir. He died instantly from the blast.”
“What else is going on? What else have I missed?”
His butler gave the doctor an inquisitive look, and she nodded to him. “At this point, it really doesn’t matter. Let him know everything.”
“The police station, city hall, and all of the major hospitals are gone. They were all destroyed by the Joker. The death toll has risen to nearly one hundred thousand in the last two days that you have been unconscious.”
“Two days?” Bruce repeated, stunned by the news. “Dick?”
Alfred’s face turned even whiter, “He found a lead on the Joker, and went to investigate, but we haven’t heard from him since. That was two nights ago. It was just luck that I chose not to take you to the hospital, but to bring you here instead. If I had gone with my first instinct, you’d be dead by now.”
“Did you… did you grab Hatter’s cane?”
Alfred gave him a puzzled look, “What cane?”
“After the explosion, Tetch’s cane landed next to us. Did you take it? It was very similar looking to mine.”
Alfred’s face was conflicted with emotions. “Sir, the Mad Hatter had no cane, and neither have you. Other then when you have been in the suit, you’ve been in a wheel chair,” he said, pointing to the one in corner.
“Impossible, I’ve been using a cane. I need the cane.” He turned to Leslie. “Have you found a cure yet? Do we know what this is? I’ve been poisoned, haven’t I?”
Leslie shook her head sadly, “No, Bruce, we’ve been over this before, but because of the lesions in your brain, you aren’t remembering. You haven’t been poisoned. It’s a very rare form of lymphoma. It’s been going through your body at a very rapid pace, and there’s nothing we’ve been able to do for it.”
“Impossible. I won’t accept that!” He began to climb out of bed.
Leslie placed her hand on his shoulder, “Bruce, your fighting days are done. You need to rest now. I won’t allow this.”
“Rest? What the hell am I resting for? The suit still works, the painkillers you have me on, as much as I loathe the idea, are helping me focus a bit more. I’m the only one who can stop him.”
“Master Bruce, you don’t have the strength anymore. We’re not even sure that Master Dick hasn’t already taken care of the situation. We will call in the Justice League, but I am telling you, your days are over.”
The room was silent. Bruce stared at them both, his eyes blazing with anger. Then he closed them and began to focus, bringing his mind in tune with his body, as he had been taught all those years ago.
He flung the bed sheets away and began to stand up, brushing off Leslie and Alfred’s hands as they tried to convince him to stay in bed. He was not done, he was not defeated. He would not go down until he decided it was time. He was in control of his own fate, his own destiny.
“He shouldn’t even be able to stand,” Leslie whispered in awe as she watched him stumble to the bedroom door.
Bruce turned to them, “Alfred, get the car ready. If the Joker has Robin, I know exactly where he is.”
“You mean, Nightwing, sir.”
The lord of the manor looked at him, confusion on his face. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”
Alfred gave a sad smile, “Of course it was.”
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:27:17 GMT -5
Alfred drove the batmobile just a block away from the building. The same building that he had faced Joker a couple of years ago. It was the building where he had almost lost Dick and Barbara. The Joker was here, and so was Dick. He knew that, but he didn’t know why he knew it. There had been no investigating, no clues, just that knowledge in his mind that this is where Joker was.
As he got out of the car he heard several more explosions. More buildings were collapsing, more of Gotham was crumbling. His city was being destroyed, blocks at a time.
He had taken two more pain pills, and was able to focus enough to keep the suit moving. He didn’t have it in him to climb, though. He was going to go through the front door. It didn’t matter anyway, Joker knew he was there. How? No idea, but he knew.
Batman checked his belt, making sure everything he needed was with him, and then took a deep breath and willed his suit to move him to the front door. He was not surprised in the least to find that it was unlocked. He walked in to find that place hadn’t changed much. Sunlight shown through the broken glass of windows that surrounded the top of the building. In the middle of the room was exactly what he knew he was going to find. Nightwing hung upside down on a meat hook, unconscious. The Joker stood next to him, gun planted firmly next to the young ward’s temple. In his other hand… a cane.
“I knew you’d find me; although, I have to admit that it took you much longer then I expected. Slowing down in your old age, batsy?”
“Let him go, Joker. This is between you and me, always has been.”
“Oh come on, not even a round of applause for bringing down your precious city? It took the Hatter a lot of hats to get people to plant all those bombs for me.”
It was a small tingle at the back of his neck, but Batman felt it. The first warning signs of the pain, the pain coming back; over-riding the medication. No, not yet, he thought.
“Let Nightwing go.”
The Joker grinned and turned him around to that he was facing Batman, his mask was off. “Don’t you mean Dick Grayson? Didn’t take me long to figure it out once I beat him senseless. I love Google!”
Stay standing, he kept thinking to himself. Willing himself, but the tingling was already becoming a sharp and piercing pain. If felt as if a fist was trying to break out of his skull, from the inside.
I have to finish this now. Batman grabbed his batarang and threw it, aiming for the gun hand, but it went wild and missed completely.
The Joker’s face turned into a snarl as he pulled the trigger, the gun still planted firmly against Nightwing’s temple. The young man was gone in a heartbeat.
“NOOOO!” Batman tried to leap forward but the pain exploded and he fell to the ground, clutching his head.
For the first time, the Joker cackled like he used to. “It’s all gone, Batsy, your city, your partner, everything is gone. You’ve got nothing left.”
The pain was stopping him from using the suit. It was run by his thoughts and now his thoughts were jumbled. There was only one thing he could do. Fighting down the nausea and the urge to collapse, he reached up and removed his cowl, his gloves, his body armor. He looked up as he did so, watching Joker’s eyes widen in wonder as the enemy before him stripped himself of his uniform.
“Well duh!” Joker exclaimed. “Dick Grayson, makes sense the other one would have been Bruce Wayne. Oh how delicious this is. And thank you for taking off that damn suit. It will make killing you so much easier.”
Bruce gave out a low groan as he forced his body to stand up. The Joker fired his gun and the bullet pierced his skin in the stomach. “You stupid clown, I’m not going to die until I’m done doing what I need to do.”
The billionaire, with every bone, every muscle, every nerves, screaming to let it end, continued to walk forward. The Joker fired again, and again, hitting Bruce in the chest and the leg, but he kept getting closer.
“Why won’t you just die!” The Joker screamed.
Bruce reached him, and brought his face directly into his arch foes, “Maybe because I’m not done yet, or maybe because death doesn’t want me, but mostly because I know what this is now, and I’ve faced it. My fears… my fears…”
Without warning, Bruce grabbed the cane out of Joker’s other hand as he shoved him back, and smashed the orb shaped top of it down onto the ground. The old warehouse began to spin out of control, but Bruce held on… he held on until the room was done spinning and he was back where he should have been.
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:29:00 GMT -5
He was back in the mansion, in his tux, and his guests were all on the ground, their eyes wide open, a look of horror on each one of their faces. All but one, one man who stood at the center of the room, his face was full of rage.
“How did you do it?” Dr. Crane screamed. “It was a new toxin and it was fool proof. My experiment was working perfectly.”
“The cane was your weakness, Crane,” Bruce replied. “You were using it as a focal point, a combination of your drug and hypnosis. The cane kept showing up in my nightmare, and I knew it had to be eliminated.”
“What was your nightmare, Mr. Wayne? Tell me, what does a billionaire playboy like you fear the most?” Asked the man called Scarecrow.
Bruce brought the end of the cane into Crane’s midsection. He stumbled back, but before he could react, Bruce had struck him again in the side of the face with it. Dr. Crane fell to the floor.
Bruce staggered to the windows and began opening them; then he found Alfred and carried him into the grand dining room.
“You’re going to be alright.. I’ll call the police, and I’ll get an anti-toxin from the cave. It should ease the effects, at least. I’ll tell them that Batman showed up with it. I’ll give it to you and Jim first. I’ll need your help with the rest of the guests. Just hang in there.”
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Post by capeandcowl on Jun 20, 2007 22:29:31 GMT -5
Several hours later, the last of the guests and the police had left. Alfred and Bruce sat in the kitchen sipping tea.
“You know Sir,” Alfred began after a long silence, “I would find it rude and beneath me to inquire on your greatest fear, but I am curious on how you fought it. How you were able to break through it, without the antidote?”
Bruce sat his cup down and considered the question. “I honestly don’t know, Alfred. All I knew, as I was facing it, was that the only thing that could ever stop me from moving forward was the fear, and no matter what the odds were, I wasn’t going to let fear be the one factor that got in my way.”
“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” Alfred murmured as he sipped his tea.
“Truer words have never been spoken, old friend.”
The End
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Post by mockingbird on Jul 29, 2011 11:09:25 GMT -5
To let us know what you think of this issue, please visit the letters page here!
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