Good Luck With Your Future Chapter 15 Part 1
Title: Good Luck With Your Future
Author: Dreykar
Fandom: DC-verse/Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Genre(s): General
Rating: R
Summary: Approached by their older selves visiting from 25yrs in the future, Batman and The Joker agree to work together to prevent a situation allowing the mob to take over Gotham permanently. With so much going on, what happens when the men work together?
Disclaimer: I only own the plot. Everything own by DC comics and Nolan/Warner Brothers.
A/N: I was hoping this chapter was going to be ready last weekend but it just needed something more.
Enjoy!
Six years ago
As Dr. Jonathan Crane walked briskly through the Arkham Asylum doors, he remembered that the next time he was near reception he needed to see if one of his patient’s had been recently visited by his parents. He had recommended that Mr and Mrs Johnson do not visit their son as he wanted this particular patient to be as isolated as possible.
Two sessions ago Crane had convinced Johnson that any woman that he’d ever dated was never actually attracted to him and they were only displaying affection for their own selfish means. This whole situation had been a work in progress but during their last session however, the patient had been standing up for himself which he hadn’t done for weeks. This shouldn’t be happening, Jonathan thought, and he was going to find out why.
As he didn’t have any suitable toxins in a usable state for this patient, all he had was his words and perceived power to send him mad. You should never underestimate the power of words and suggestion, in his opinion. Of course, he’d had toxins in the past but his current one that he was developing, one that created fears so powerful it could destroy the mind, was still missing…something. He needed to keep researching as he knew that that extra ingredient or change was right around the corner.
Walking up to the reception desk, Crane looked on the counter to see that the book he needed wasn’t in its usual spot. He could always look later but he wanted to get this over and done with now so he could begin developing the best course of treatment for his unruly 'friend'.
The doctor flicked open the newspaper that he had rolled under his arm and cleared his throat. There was nothing suspicious in him having to check these things, he was a high ranking doctor after all. “Have you got the visitor log book there?” he asked plainly.
The girl behind the desk searched around frantically. “Umm…that’s the green one I think…ahhh…”
Crane didn’t look up from his newspaper. “I don’t know what the colour is. I’m in a hurry. I need to check something now”
She stood up and began to look under piles of paper for it. “I’m sorry, I’m looking. It’s usually up on the counter there”
“Mmm” he replied, half heartily, still not looking up from his paper. After a moment he placed the item under his arm again and leaned over the counter slightly. The girls face was hidden as she continued her search. He sighed in frustration. “Have someone competent bring it to my office once it’s been found”. He began to storm off. ‘People just can’t get the simplest things right’ he thought.
‘It’s because they don’t respect you, they don’t fear you enough’. Jonathan stayed silent and gripped his briefcase tighter, Scarecrow was right and it made him so angry. People were all the same.
“Dr. Crane. Dr. Crane!”. Someone was running after him, echoing his name around the entrance to the hospital. He stopped and slowly turned around, as if it was causing his great effort to. His full lips were pursed, his head held to the side. Standing behind him was one of the more senior receptionists.
“Elizabeth mentioned you were looking for this. I’d just taken it into the office for a moment to…”. She trailed off as the man in front of her placed his brief case and paper quickly onto the floor and snatched the book.
“Yes, apparently it was difficult for her to locate it” he muttered. He searched to see if Johnson had received the visit, he had. Jonathan snapped the book shut. 'He will pay for this' rang throughout his mind.
“She didn’t know I’d taken it” The woman continued defensively, but professionally. “Policy states the book should remain there at all times-”
“-so you can hardly blame me for being agitated that your antics have unnecessarily wasted my time”. He handed her the book then left without another word.
Once the woman walked back to the desk she could see that Elizabeth looked apologetic. She was wearing a button up top which seemed a little old for her twenty one years, and a plain black skirt. Elly had worked there for a week now and had heard of this Doctor Crane. He was meant to be frightfully intelligent but known for his cold demeanor. He had no work friends, nor did anyone know what he did with his spare time. In fact, to the best of their knowledge it seemed as though perhaps he didn’t go home at all. He spent many hours up in his office, then visited patients at times all throughout the day. More than a few people were afraid of him, although many went out of their way to say how little they thought of the man who wouldn’t engage with his colleagues. Most recognised however, that this doctor was headed for the top. He displayed all signs of a competent director even at such a comparatively young age. At this point however, they still had a perfectly good director, so instead Crane ran the psychopharmacology department, which was his area of expertise.
Elizabeth swept her light brown hair behind her shoulders and adjusted herself in her seat. “I’m sorry, he’s angry-”
“-don’t worry about him” the woman began with a roll of her eyes. “Opinions of Dr. Jonathan Crane range from ‘just a plain asshole’ to ‘sick little puppy indeed’”
“What’s your opinion?” the young woman asked. Her boss didn’t usually talk so loosely and she was curious about her new workplace.
The older one contemplated the question. “He needs to come down a peg or two. If he doesn’t, his fall will be further than he planned" she paused. "All I can say is make sure you’re always organised and confident around him, it gives him less of a reason to be rude to you. Other than that don’t let him get to you. Just remember he’s very senior here and well known at your university. I didn’t tell you this by the way” she added.
Elizabeth nodded and bit her lip, she hoped she didn’t see the man again any time soon.
Back to the future
Bruce ended up arriving around ten minutes late to his meeting with Tony Warren at a mid-city restaurant. After oversleeping this morning he found himself not listening to a word Fox was saying once he got into the office. He was distracted and still angry about what had happened with The Joker the previous night. It wasn’t really anything the jester had done, just that he didn’t realise what Bruce was going through in trying to come to terms with the fact that he was involved with not only a murderer but one who went against so many of his values. They needed to talk. It would never be ok to him, but maybe they could work out some sort of agreement between the two of them, one that kept the city safe.
He walked up to the table confidently, running a hand through his hair as he negotiated his way around the tables. Warren stood up when he saw him approaching and held his hand out.
“Bruce Wayne. Great to see you again”. Tony Warren was in a crisp suit, his blond hair perfected. Again Bruce was reminded of Harvey Dent before everything fell apart.
“You too, Tony” he replied as they shook hands and took their seats. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late, the traffic was terrible. You can do something about that, can’t you?” he added with cocky smirk.
Warren laughed deeply, although it still didn’t sound real. “I’ll see what I can do” he promised, tapping a finger against his nose in jest.
A young but experienced waiter then approached the table. “Can I get you started on drinks, gentlemen?”
Warren smiled toothily, his charisma really leaping from him. “A lemon squash for me, please”
“Make that two” Bruce stated smoothly
“Look at us, a couple of teetotalers” the blond commented once the waiter had left. He displayed his palms, including the billionaire into his circle.
Bruce smoothed his lapels. “To be honest, I have a meeting later and want to be on my best game”
Warren looked thoughtful. “I admire that”. There was a slight change in his eyes as he contemplated this information. Bruce could see his ruthless intelligence that he tended to keep hidden. “I knew you couldn’t be hungover in every meeting”
“Just most” Bruce quipped, his persona was now second nature to him.
The other man laughed softly again and the thoughtful look was broken, it seemed he didn’t feel as threatened. They talked for a little while about things that were happening around the city. Next their drinks were brought over and they ordered their meals.
“So, Bruce” Warren began, they were getting down to business. “You know why we’re here. You know what I’m about. When it comes to what I want to achieve I’m completely transparent”
Bruce ran his finger over the rim of his glass. “Is it money that you want? It’s just that I’m not sure I want to get into politics...”
Warren began to speak more softly, with less flashes of his pearly whites. “To be honest, Bruce, I have money. As I said the other night, what I need are votes. Although, some high profile people being vocal about their opinions on what I’m doing would be very, very welcome”.
On the table next to them a man was getting agitated as a waitress tried to clear his table, he wanted it left as it was. He seemed to be quite involved with transcribing some notes from a hand held voice recorder. Before Bruce could think too hard about it their meals were delivered.
“Tony” Bruce began after they had both had about half of their food. “I respect what you’re doing, trust me, I wouldn’t be here otherwise. But I just don’t think I’m in a position to be the poster boy for a campaign-"
“-not poster boy, Bruce. I thought that maybe if we were seen together a few times it would be beneficial to both of us”
“How would that benefit me?” Bruce asked, and with a chill was reminded of Crane the day before when The Joker was trying to convince him to help with Warren. Slowly but surely his time with The Joker, and now Crane, was beginning to affect little areas of his life. Suddenly the difference between villain and hero was becoming smaller and the distance between regular guy and vigilante even greater.
Bruce saw a flicker of annoyance on the other man’s face, like he wasn’t expecting to be questioned or challenged about this. It seemed his important prospect had gone from ‘in the bag’ to ‘more difficult to manage’ in an instant.
“I would have thought a man such as yourself would see the benefits it would bring you”. He placed his knife and fork down onto his plate and made a little room for his elbows on the table. “Our little arrangement would mean that if I was to say, get into the position, that you would be seen to be backing a popular leader. That would, in turn, rub off on you so to speak. People would associate forward thinking in our city to you as well”.
Bruce narrowed his eyes a little and held his glass with a bent wrist. “I would hope that they see that already”.
“Truth be told, Bruce. And please don’t think this is my opinion, but others have the impression of you that really all you care about is your fast cars, wild girls and large wallet. Time is moving on as always, Mr. Wayne, and I’m sure you’d want your family name to be more respected than that. As I say” he added hastily “it’s not my impression of you at all. I know you do a lot of good work with your company. But have a think. What do you want the Wayne name to mean in twenty, twenty five years? Can you really keep doing what you’re doing?”
Bruce should have been angry but before he responded an image of himself, his self from twenty five years in the future, flashed into his mind and ‘Can you really keep doing what you’re doing?’ took on a whole new meaning.
His older self was still Batman, was still with The Joker, but was he happy? Could he keep doing what he was doing? Where did it end? When did Gotham no longer need a silent guardian watching over them and where does his responsibility for the city's safety end and his own happiness start?
Then also away from that, playing the idiot was all well and good, but he was the last of the Wayne’s. It was the perfect foil for his activities as Batman, but right now if he were to go, people would forget all the hard work Thomas Wayne did, all that he accomplished, and only remember Bruce Wayne, playboy, entitled prick who never worked a day in his life.
He abruptly stood. Warren leant back from the table in confusion. “Bruce, please sit down. I didn’t mean to offend you. Please, don’t take this the wrong way" he glanced around the room to see who was watching then returned his eyes to Bruce almost pleadingly. "You haven’t even finished your linguine”
“Yes" Bruce agreed as he threw his napkin onto his plate "but I think this meeting’s finished”. Warren opened his mouth to protest but Bruce stopped him. “Don’t worry, I’m not angry. You’ve just given me a lot to think about”. He threw a few notes onto the table, more than enough to cover his meal, drink and a tip. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon”.
Warren nodded and Bruce excited the building. As he walked off towards the valet to retrieve his car e nearly ran into two aged men who were deep in conversation as they made their way towards their nightly drinking session.
“…did you see that Mayor What’s-his-face on the TV? That little bastard’s his apparently” the first man commented. His mustache and thick frame gave him the appearance of a walrus.
“Yeah I saw that, poor guy” the other added, shaking his head as they journeyed down the street. His frame was a little thinner, as was his hair.
“Ya know, Geoff, I was there when he was shot at, at that police commissioner’s memorial-”
“Nah ya weren’t, Stan, you were at the pub with me“
He looked puzzled for a moment. “O yeah” he scratched his head then looked resigned to the fact he wasn’t there after all. “Well, we were up pretty close to them televisions in there anyway”.
They continued their daily walk down to the pub, the same trek the men had been doing for years.
“Anyway, Geoff. I don’t know, not sure if I like the fact our mayor has some kid with a woman other than his misses”
“What, you think they should be our betters?”
“Only better at hiding things, yeah. I mean, if he’s away having it off with all these women, he might accidently sign things that are put in front of him without reading them, you know, be distracted. Might pass something for prohibition or anything really. Then what would we do?”
“I’m not sure he has the power to do that-”
“-yeah but imagine if he did. Think about what could happen”
Geoff did think, and he didn’t like what he saw. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want some son of a bitch telling me I can’t have me beer. I can’t believe they’d even consider doing that”
“See what I’m telling ya, Geoff? Can’t trust these politicians”
“Know what you mean mate, know what you mean. But, uh, what about this other bloke?”
“What other guy?”
“You know, Whonty…or Warren?”
“Warrren, yeah. Saw him on the news, didn’t mention anything about shutting down pubs”
“Really? That’s good to hear. What else didn’t he say?”
“Well he didn’t talk about sport, didn’t talk about rock and roll bands, and he definitely didn’t talk about racing cars”
“Good, good” the man replied absently. “He’s sounding better and better”
“I know, I know. I was talking to Bob and Thomas the other day and they all think this Warren guy is the bee’s knees. Think that Garcia’s lost the plot. Gone stale”
“Well the election is coming up soon, as long as this Warren isn’t a creep I think I’ll vote for him”
“Smart guy”. They then opened the door to their favourite establishment and began to walk in. “Let me buy you your first beer of the night. I wonder if Anton’s up for some pool, I swear this time I’m going to beat the wanker…”.
In a few hours darkness blanketed the city and it’s real heart and soul sprang to life.
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