Slipping Into Entropy - Part 45
Alfred stepped through the elevator doors just as Bruce finished locking the final chest plate into place. He continued strapping items to his belt. The older man was however impeded in his route by the Joker, sitting there in his chair and looking for all the world like he was up to no good. "I believe these are for you," Alfred said, holding out the clothes Bruce had requested, folded and boxed up neatly once again.
The man in the wheelchair just grinned at Alfred's disdain and obvious discomfort, snatching the box out of his hands and immediately starting to strip off his shirt. "Good old Freddy, always so reliable. We're going to have a blast while Bat is gone, aren't we? A party to bring the house down." He still didn't know what to make of the butler, so he did what came naturally - teasing and taunting to make him feel like he had an edge on the other man. "I'll bet you're a regular card shark, aren't you?"
"Not. Particularly." His eyes swiveled to Bruce, who was readying the Bat-pod, firing its engine and then toning it down a bit. "Will that be all, sir?" he called over the noise.
"Yes, thank you Alfred," Bruce called back, maneuvering the vehicle onto one of the giant hydraulic lifts in the floor. With a grim smile toward the Joker, he added, "Don't let him get to you while I'm gone." He pulled the dark mask over his head as the ground below him began to rise.
Clapping the elderly man playfully on the back, Joker dropped the dirtied shirt to the floor, pulling out a random clashing replacement from the box on his lap and working at sliding into it. "So, what should we do while Bat's out playing, hmm? Saying 'nothing' isn't allowed, either."
Alfred didn't speak right away, watching until Bruce and the pod were completely out of sight, the lift having reached the ceiling. His gaze fell back to the Joker, buttoning up his new shirt, and the one he'd just thrown on the floor. .......was that...? That was a definite stain on the front of it. The elder man couldn't help recoiling slightly. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I'm going to have to say 'nothing'."
"I told you that wasn't allowed," Joker counted amiably, green eyes glinting dangerously. "I doubt we have much in common, or that either of us will ever end up liking each other, but Bat seems to be fond of you, so... we're stuck with each other for the time being." His gaze said something different than his matter-of-fact tone - try anything and, wheelchair or not, you'll regret it. "...play cards with me," he finally stated, digging one of his well-loved packs out of one pocket.
Alfred eyed the pack, but otherwise didn't move. "Why?" He could turn around and leave, the Joker may try to stop him, and while that didn't sit as well in his stomach as he thought it would, even with Bruce's protection, it was very likely he'd be able to outrun the man. .....but then there would always be the next time, and the time after that. "For what purpose could my presence possibly be of interest to you?"
"Because people are interesting and fun to play with, and being by yourself gets really old after years and years of it. I have nothing to do, and I can't move around, so you're going to amuse me." It was as simple as that; Bruce might have forbidden him to do anything damaging to the man, but he still hadn't found all of the butler's little triggers, all the things that set him off. People were more entertaining than any robot.
Alfred stared at the man. "One game." There was no avoiding the Joker. He knew he didn't want to be anywhere near the madman. He knew it would amount to nothing but bad news. And yet, he had to admit that he was curious enough to stay, at least for a short while, and after the man had already asked him to. He couldn't help but believe that that miniscule iota of curiosity had a lot to do with Bruce. Bruce had brought the Joker here, after all. It was hard to ignore him, even if he wanted to, when the man he worked with everyday brought him into his home and spoke with him behind Alfred's back, somehow, miraculously, coming to an understanding between them.
"So you say," Joker countered with a grin, happy to have wheedled the older man into a game. Wheeling himself ahead of Alfred, he kept glancing back over his shoulder to be sure the man was following, leading them to the small lab table. "What games does an old geezer like you know how to play, anyways?"
"Whatever you usually play will suffice." Alfred followed, but kept a discreet distance. He stood opposite the Joker at the table, only sitting after the other man had settled into place. He laid his hands down on the surface in front of him, watching the Joker expectantly.
"Oh, c'mon, Freddy. Crack a smile. Don't you ever have any fun?" Joker asked, expertly shuffling the deck. "What about Spite and Malice? That should appeal to your sense of appropriateness, don't you think?" Dealing out the required piles and each of their hands, the clown made sure to pad the winning pile on either side. This game would take awhile.
Alfred said nothing. He watched the Joker stony faced before he picked up his cards. He looked at them briefly, then back at the Joker, waiting. He was pretty sure the man didn't care about playing cards, but he got the feeling that whatever he wanted from Alfred, he wouldn't come right out and say it.
The first few moves happened in silence, Joker watching Alfred just as intently as the butler was watching him. "...what are you so afraid of, Thaddeus? Bat isn't even your real kid, and even if he was, what would it be to you? I'd rather let him kill me than hurt him, anyways," he remarked, glancing at his hand in amusement before laying down his cards. "Your move."
"Bruce cares about a lot of people, not just himself you know." He paid attention to the game briefly, but soon found himself returning to their conversation. "I am glad that you don't seem interested in harming him. That is more than I had ever expected." He sighed, relaxing just a little. "I've always looked after him."
"But why? What difference does it make to you? You weren't getting anything out of it, unless Bat took a card from my deck and doesn't remember anything. Why the hell should you care?" Another moment of quiet passed as he silently placed his cards, drawing again from the pile. "I don't understand why he cares about everything so much, either. I just do what he wants, in some things, because it seems to make him happy."
"I get plenty out of it. I care about him." Alfred needed to make that known. If nothing else, that was the most important thing he wanted to say to the Joker. He studied the other man for some time. His words seemed to be genuine. Just like they had been before. "I think.....I believe you when you say that," the old man said, lowering his eyes slightly to rest on the cards in the other man's hands. "But I worry all the same. If you can admit that, then you must know that you can't be good for him."
"And why do you think that? You'd rather he continued the way he was, without anyone? Bat may kid himself, but you and I both know he's nearly as off the deep-end as they come. You also don't quite see who and what he is. Either you never have, or you don't anymore. He's told me as much." Another flip of a card, another renewed hand. "He smiles more, now, despite what he told me. Even if he's a spoiled rich boy, I think he deserves some fun in his life, and so do I. I've never had something like this before, and I won't give him up. I left the one time he asked, and I don't think he'll ever ask again." Joker's gaze finally rose from his hand, giving Alfred a hard, cold stare.
Alfred sighed. "You've got me wrong." He hadn't looked at his cards in some time. "I want him to be happy. I also want him to be able to do what he set out to do for the world. I can see that......he is happier, in ways, lately. And you.....you I had never expected to be sincerely happy with him. ....but. I don't know how long it can last."
The corner of Joker's mouth twitched up, the man in the wheelchair shuddering as he fought back the inexplicable urge to laugh. It finally became too much for him, leaving him slumped over the piles of cards on his side as his insanity echoed off the walls of the lair. "Oh god, Freddy, you're a hoot. What's the use in worrying?"
"You've never had anything to lose before, have you?" Alfred set his cards down on the table. "That is the "use" of worrying." It was strange; he knew the card game had been a tactic to get him to talk. But this talk didn't set him quite on edge as badly as some of their previous conversations had.
"No. I don't particularly care what else happens. I don't care if I die or not. There's not much that can be done to me anymore. Even the mob had no idea what to do." Joker paused, staring blankly at his hand without moving, his tongue swiping nervously across his lips. "I don't care as long as Bat's mine."
"And that's precisely why I worry," Alfred said with a half smile. "You won't know when to stop, when you've gone too far......how to keep him, and how to keep him happy." All the things that made a real relationship work.
Green eyes flicked up to watch Alfred over the edge of the cards, wary but curious. "...and you'd know these things?" He doubted the other man really had an edge over him; he'd tried to shoot him to death just to keep him away from Bruce. Anything that came from the older man had a large possibility of simply being a manipulation to try to destroy things and make him leave. "Enlighten me, then."
Alfred's eyes narrowed in thought. He sat back, unconsciously correcting his posture a bit as he took in the Joker. "You seem to live on a series of highs. Whatever you can get. I realize.....Bruce doesn't have the most stable life, but what he does have, he needs. You want to give him those highs that you find, but I don't think he can live on that, much as he may enjoy it."
The madman watched him, radiating defensiveness. "...so what would you suggest then, Freddy? I promised I wouldn't try to change him any longer. I haven't killed anyone in weeks because it makes him happy. What more would you have me do, short of making myself a mask with pointy ears and pretending I go along with his theories of how things work?"
The butler sighed. The only answer he had to that, he knew the Joker wouldn't want to hear. He shook his head and turned the words he wanted to say over in his mind. "That is all....more than I ever thought you would do. I hope you can keep it up. ...I have no answer for you but to leave him."
"I won't do that. I can't," he barked, visibly upset at the suggestion. I knew it. Manipulative bastard. His heart had already begun racing despite the pain medication that dulled his reactions, his fingers itching for some sort of retribution. Normally, anything or anyone that disturbed him this much would have signed its death warrent already. "I can't do that, and you can't make me."
Alfred held his palms up defensively, pushing his chair back a little, obviously distressed by the Joker's anger. "No. No. I've done what I can." His mouth was set in a grim line when he spoke. "I just don't want to pick up what's left of the both of you when you're finished."
It was disturbing to watch just how close Joker's psychosis was to the surface, grinding his teeth and giving a muffled scream as one clawlike hand reached up to cover his face, nails digging into the skin enough to draw blood. The cards in his left hand were forgotten, clenched tight enough that they'd never quite resume their normal shape again.
Alfred rose quickly, distancing himself from the other man. "I told you what I think. I told you the truth, and that's what you asked for." It was hard to watch, and even harder to know if the Joker would come after him next.
"That isn't truth. That's what you want me to do, so you're trying to convince me that such a thing is inevitable," Joker growled, glaring at Alfred between the spaces of his fingers. "I'd kill myself before doing anything to hurt him anymore. Fuck my promise, I'd kill anyone that tried to really hurt him. I am not going to lose him to anyone, least of all you."
"That is the truth of what I believe," Alfred shot back with more conviction. "I can't make him leave you, and I can't make you leave him either." He shook his head, not knowing what else he could do. He'd done all he could.....there.....wasn't anything left. He had not more than resignation and a tiny futile brand of hope.
"I call bullshit. You want him for yourself and don't know what else to do now that you can't make me leave, make him throw me out, or kill me." His hands finally unclenched, going to the wheels of his chair and backing him away from the table. He no longer had any desire to be near the elderly man, curiosity or no.
"You're right, I don't want to lose him!" Alfred shouted. "I also don't want him dead, and I don't want him to hate himself!" He was breathing hard, posture on the verge of retreating but still standing his ground.
That was when things suddenly became surreal. The skinny man in the wheelchair abruptly paused, jolting to a halt and shivering. He didn't seem to know how to react to the other man, especially with the knowledge that killing him out of fear and rage would likely mean that he lost Bruce. "I don't want that either, I don't want it, I don't-" His jaw clenched again in agitation, baring yellowed fangs as his hand hands went back to his face, tangling and pulling at his hair while tears slid down his face.
Alfred's tension melted visibly. He was left with nothing but consternation. They were on the same level here somehow, and he felt it then. His lips parted, but he didn't know what to say. He shook his head, trying at the same time to see the other man...... Could anyone really see the Joker?
The silence in the lair was palpable, broken only by the soft, choked sounds coming from the clown as he visibly unraveled in front of Alfred. He didn't seem able or willing to let go of himself, every once in awhile one hand going down to touch the silver rim handles on the wheels before returning to a death grip somewhere on his person.
Alfred watched, calming only because it was fairly certain that the Joker wasn't about to attack him. Otherwise, the scene before him was painful to observe. He almost wanted to go to the man, but his rational mind knew the Joker would never allow it. "I'm sorry." It was all he could offer.
Joker couldn't even work his mind to the point where he could respond with anything intelligible. Suddenly feeling vulnerable and threatened by the butler's presence, a rare jolt of fear spurred him out of his frozen state. Awkwardly working the wheels of his chair, the madman fled to one of the auxilery rooms off of the lair.
It was with disbelief that the butler watched him go. It was strange and ironic that he almost felt like he'd learned something about the madman just then. He'd never been so.....open. Alfred never imagined he'd see someone like the Joker that way. Never imagined the Joker would allow himself to be seen that way. Ever.
Retreating to the small bedroom that Bruce and he had used before, Joker locked the door, eying it in a paranoid fashion as if he expected the butler to come breaking it down to do something unspeakable. Backing away from it, the clown struggled to pull himself out of the wheelchair and onto the bed. Still a neurotic mess from the confrontation, unable to do anything about it, he burrowed into the darkness under the covers like a frightened child.
In the main room, now eerily silent, Alfred took a moment to gather himself back together as well. Eventually he left for the penthouse, trying to put the experience behind him. The next time he saw the Joker..... He wasn't yet sure if anything had changed between them.
Gordon sighed, pushing around the paperwork he'd been busying himself with for the past few hours. Ever since the ordeal at the hospital, with the vague answers he'd gotten out of the Joker and the subsequent escape... he hadn't been able to think straight. The other officers had noticed his distraction and left him in peace thus far, but if he was to quiet the tumult of questions inside of him and be able to concentrate on his job he needed answers.
Putting down his pen, the Commissioner rose from his chair. The office was quiet at the moment, and full of people he trusted. His people. Now was as good as ever. Taking the key from his belt that unlocked the stairwell to the roof, Gordon made his way towards the signal he used to summon his vigilante friend. He could only hope the summons would be answered, and that they were, indeed, still on the same side.
Bruce had been easing down the streets toward the MCU as discreetly as possible. He parked the conspicuous pod a ways away from his destination, hiding it from onlookers and passersby. He hoped he wouldn't need to make a quick getaway later. The signal was riding high in the cloud covered sky overhead. He knew it was a dangerous move for the Commissioner. It probably wouldn't be lit for long. So, he made his way to the building carefully, checking out the surrounding area in advance. Batman journeyed three hundred and sixty degrees around the MCU structure, searching out the best locations for a possible ambush, finding none. It didn't seem like a setup, but he had to be sure. Of course, if they really did want to ambush him, they did have a structure full of cops right beneath that rooftop.
He made out Gordon's figure, standing near the beam of light and looking out at the darkness of the city. He seemed nervous. After a minute or two of watching, Bruce glided over and scaled the building, stepping down on the rooftop behind him.
Pacing, still unaware that Batman had appeared right behind him, Gordon sighed and flipped the switch on the signal. It looked like there wouldn't be any answers tonight. Sticking his hands in his pockets to shield them against the night's cold, the commissioner gazed out over the lights of the city. Things looked so peaceful from this high up. It was hard to believe sometimes that Gotham's streets were full of enough violence and crime to rival New York or LA.
Bruce couldn't quite discern his mood from where he stood. He simply seemed......quiet. Bruce stayed away from the center of the roof, hugging the edges and the shadows. "Gordon." He said it quietly, but firmly.
Startled, Gordon whipped around, eyes searching the shadows before he caught sight of the faint outline of a figure - black on black. "I thought you weren't coming." Approaching cautiously, Gordon took his hands out of his pockets, pulling on a pair of thin gloves. It wouldn't do to make the vigilante nervous and end their meeting prematurely. "We need to talk."
"Yes, we do," Bruce replied, standing stationary. Some tension eased from his mind knowing that Gordon had been at least willing to see him. It didn't make what he had to tell the man much easier, but it was a small relief. In spite of the Joker's warnings, he trusted Gordon. He always had, from the very day he'd first met him decades ago.
"Everyone's been getting nervous. My men don't know if you can be trusted anymore. Hell, I'm not even sure myself," Gordon admitted, looking slightly sheepish at voicing his doubts. "I need to know what's going on. Are you still with us? Or have other things clouded your judgment?" As serious as the questions were, the commissioner's voice held no hint of anger or accusation, simply concern.
"I am with you." Bruce didn't miss a beat. He took a moment to collect himself, the rise and fall of his chest the only sign of distress. "I haven't left your side, and I need you to know that." After short pause, he stepped away from the shadow cast down from the stairwell.
"Would you mind telling me what's going on, then?" Gordon asked, watching the armored man step into the light. "Did you have anything to do with the hospital escape? Or the rampage through the city and the desecration of the Wayne family plot? What happened to Maroni and his men? What's this 'deal' the Joker said you had?" He knew the slew of questions was probably overwhelming, but he was missing so many pieces of the big picture that they just kept pouring out to hang in the air between them.
Bruce closed his eyes and nodded, accepting the rush and the Commissioner's need to get it all out at once. "The hospital, yes. The Wayne plot, no." It would be so easy to lie, Gordon would have believed him, but.....he couldn't. As hard as it was to admit to taking the Joker away from the police, he couldn't lie to Gordon. The man trusted him because of it. "Gordon......I've taken the Joker in." His jaw set; it wasn't easy to tell him this. "He wants to be there, and so long as he is, he won't put the city under attack. .......it hasn't been.......easy."
Gordon mulled over this information for a second, trying to process it all. "...you were the Arkham aide, then." He frowned in thought. "But why go to such lengths to take him out of our custody? Why take him in? I realize the Joker was highly medicated when I questioned him, but... he told me he struck some sort of deal with you, something that kept him from murdering anyone anymore. He refused to tell me what he got out of it in turn." Serious brown eyes bored into the hero, trying to get a feel for the other man. "What are you giving him that's keeping him in check?"
"Nothing. No drugs anyway." Bruce was doing his best not to show any signs of discomfort, but it was difficult. "Like I said, he wants to be there. He can break out of almost anything." Bruce averted his eyes, resting on Gordon's shadow. They'd never had a conversation like this. ".....I tried to lock him up after he broke out of Arkham. He didn't like that; he got hold of one of my vehicles when he got out. But he....didn't want to leave either. After a while......I learned more about him." Bruce paused, taking the time to shake his head. "Maroni and his men captured him. They tortured him. Broke his legs. .....I had to bring him to the hospital."
"There's more you aren't telling me. I don't think Joker's the type to become a quiet homebody unless he's getting something pretty valuable in return." So Batman had been the one who had found him there. "That warehouse was a mess by the time we found it. Did..." God, do I want to know? "Did you have anything to do with Maroni's death?"
Bruce's eyes met the Commissioner's. There wasn't anything at all happy in that gaze, and it showed, visibly. "Gordon......." His rigid posture was gone, his head inclined forward as if to lessen just an inch of the distance between them. His voice was barely there, on the verge of breaking. "I killed him." The usually hard, straight line of his mouth was twisted, a glimpse of despair breaking free. "His men, they shot themselves trying to get to me. But Maroni........Maroni....... They had him strung up. I didn't even know if he was alive. So I.......I took the Joker's knife and I killed him." Bruce took a step forward. He was really breaking down. And Gordon.....Gordon may have been the Joker's enemy, but he was the only one who understood. He was......the only one....who was right where Bruce was. He had to understand.
Gordon stepped forward and put his hands on the taller man's shoulders, real concern showing on his face - not just at the breach of the law, but over the obvious turmoil the vigilante seemed to be feeling. "I understand being distraught over seeing anyone like that, but why? Why not just take them down and leave Maroni and his men to us, like you always have?" He could only imagine something happening like that with one of his cops if things had suddenly gotten too personal - like with family, or a close partner they'd worked with for years. I wonder... "What is he to you, besides another human being in need?"
Bruce had practically fallen to the ground. As it was, he was down on one knee, doing his best to keep himself together in front of the Commissioner. He felt just like he had all those years ago, with Gordon at the police station.....just after his parents died. The man's comforting grasp and soulful eyes hadn't changed. And he'd always believed in Bruce. There was a reason Bruce trusted him. "I.....I need him. I couldn't let him go. Couldn't let him go back to that place." Resting there, breathing hard, he was finally unraveling. "That was our 'deal'. I can have him, if he can have me."
"Easy there, man. Breathe." Gordon couldn't believe what he was hearing, much less what he was seeing. His mysterious partner had always seemed so stern, so self assured. It was hard to watch him fall apart like this. "Take a minute if you need it." He had a flask in his pocket that he kept on hand for when things got rough on the job, when good men and women saw and experienced things that no person ever should, but he doubted the darkly armored figure would accept even a sip to calm his nerves. His hands still on Batman's shoulders, supporting him, Gordon gave him a sympathetic smile that he hoped was reassuring. "I'm still not certain I understand. You managed to... befriend Joker? He does what you want in exchange for you giving him favors?"
Bruce almost laughed, which in itself would have been funny considering the situation. But he did calm down a little. Though not supporting his weight completely, Gordon was at least keeping him balanced. His unconscious mind knew that they were alone, so he was able to relax as much as he could. "Intimacy. That's.....that's all he wanted."
Gordon's jaw dropped, leaving Batman with the hilarious image of a mustached fish gaping for breath. "...you're sleeping with him to keep him from killing people?" Gordon had to say, even as dedicated as he was to the ideals of justice, he wasn't certain he'd be able to go that far. This did, however, explain some of the Joker's bizarre behavior and comments in the hospital. "And you're alright with this?" He couldn't even imagine.
Bruce did smile then. It was a small one, but a smile nonetheless. "It wasn't exactly.......planned. It happened, and I wasn't expecting it. I wasn't expecting to......to care for him either." He swallowed, finding his voice again. It had softened a great deal from the gravelly tone he used with Gordon, but it was still a far cry from his own.
Tonight was full of bombshells, one after another. Even if Batman wouldn't accept a drink, Gordon would need one after this. "That can't... be easy." Quite the understatement of the year. "I couldn't figure out why Joker was acting the way he was when I questioned him, but I suppose... it makes sense now." This made things all the more difficult. "But you have him under control? Do you think he..." God, I'm no good at this. "...returns the... feelings, or is he trying to use them to manipulate you to his advantage?" It was concerning, both because of the possible hold the madman now held over Gotham's greatest source of hope and because he did care about what happened to the man behind the mask.
Shaking his head, Bruce knew it would be tough to convince Gordon of what had happened. "No. He had to convince me to feel for him in return. .....do you remember what he said to me, locked up in that interrogation room the night that Dent....? He said that I completed him. That's how he feels; I'm certain of it."
"Just be careful," Gordon intoned, shaking the other man slightly. "Feelings can often cloud our better judgement, and there are people who care about you. I care, both as a partner and a friend." He actually felt relieved that Batman trusted him enough to reveal even this much. "We both fight for the same thing. I don't want to see you hurt by this. Even if he feels that way now, he's not stable."
Bruce swallowed; his mouth had gone dry. "Believe me, I know." His posture returned a bit when he straightened to clasp Gordon's upper arm in return. "And thank you." He had a feeling that Gordon had just done more for him then than either of them realized. They had trusted one another before intuitively, but now it was cemented. "He won't be going anywhere for a while, the way his legs are. And, I apologize for the....." His words trailed off, but he tapped the side of his cheekbone, indicating the faint black circle that bloomed on Gordon's skin from the morning he'd broken the Joker out.
Gordon smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Accepted, though I'll get you back for that bit of trickery. Just you wait. You're not the only one who can pull a fast one." His tone was light and teasing; all was forgiven between them. They'd worked together for too long to hold grudges for a bruised cheek and ego. "It does make me wonder just what you really do look like. Do you go masquerading as other people often?" the commissioner laughed, still trying to reconcile the images of the nerdy Arkham aide with the intimidating man before him.
"Not too often," Bruce replied lightly. He could see the wheels turning in the Commissioner's head as things turned back to normal. While climbing back to his feet, helping Gordon as well, he felt more grateful to this man than he had to anyone in a long time. "What will you do now?"
"Do my best to reassure my trusted men that you're still on our side," Gordon replied simply, his mind still reeling from all the new information he'd been given. "It won't be easy, but they trust me, and I trust you. I appreciate you letting me in on all of this." He held onto the vigilante's hand longer than it took to get back to his feet, giving it one firm shake. Partners. "You can trust me. God knows you've done wonders for this city. If you need anything, let me know. As the Commissioner, or as a friend."
Bruce gave him a genuine smile. It probably looked at least unusual underneath the mask, but it was worth it for Gordon to see. "I know I can trust you. I always have." The Commissioner just didn't know how long that "always" had been for the shadowy figure before him. He hoped he got the message across nevertheless. This time, he stepped up onto the edge of the wall while Gordon was watching, turning back to look at him before he jumped off the ledge, spreading out the cloak and catching the thermals of air between the tall buildings.
Feeling marginally better now that he knew the other man hadn't gone insane or switched sides, Gordon stayed on the rooftop a little longer, digging that flask out of his pocket and taking a swig as he looked out over the city. Nothing is ever as simple as it looks. Capping the silver canteen and returning it to the folds of his coat, the Commissioner went back inside to warm up and finish his paperwork for the night.
Note: It's baaaaaaaaaack~ We're finally picking up again, and are very sorry for such a long wait. Raz has still got it tough, but is doing better little by little. Things may still be slow, but they're gradually steadying out. Thanks so much.
The man in the wheelchair just grinned at Alfred's disdain and obvious discomfort, snatching the box out of his hands and immediately starting to strip off his shirt. "Good old Freddy, always so reliable. We're going to have a blast while Bat is gone, aren't we? A party to bring the house down." He still didn't know what to make of the butler, so he did what came naturally - teasing and taunting to make him feel like he had an edge on the other man. "I'll bet you're a regular card shark, aren't you?"
"Not. Particularly." His eyes swiveled to Bruce, who was readying the Bat-pod, firing its engine and then toning it down a bit. "Will that be all, sir?" he called over the noise.
"Yes, thank you Alfred," Bruce called back, maneuvering the vehicle onto one of the giant hydraulic lifts in the floor. With a grim smile toward the Joker, he added, "Don't let him get to you while I'm gone." He pulled the dark mask over his head as the ground below him began to rise.
Clapping the elderly man playfully on the back, Joker dropped the dirtied shirt to the floor, pulling out a random clashing replacement from the box on his lap and working at sliding into it. "So, what should we do while Bat's out playing, hmm? Saying 'nothing' isn't allowed, either."
Alfred didn't speak right away, watching until Bruce and the pod were completely out of sight, the lift having reached the ceiling. His gaze fell back to the Joker, buttoning up his new shirt, and the one he'd just thrown on the floor. .......was that...? That was a definite stain on the front of it. The elder man couldn't help recoiling slightly. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I'm going to have to say 'nothing'."
"I told you that wasn't allowed," Joker counted amiably, green eyes glinting dangerously. "I doubt we have much in common, or that either of us will ever end up liking each other, but Bat seems to be fond of you, so... we're stuck with each other for the time being." His gaze said something different than his matter-of-fact tone - try anything and, wheelchair or not, you'll regret it. "...play cards with me," he finally stated, digging one of his well-loved packs out of one pocket.
Alfred eyed the pack, but otherwise didn't move. "Why?" He could turn around and leave, the Joker may try to stop him, and while that didn't sit as well in his stomach as he thought it would, even with Bruce's protection, it was very likely he'd be able to outrun the man. .....but then there would always be the next time, and the time after that. "For what purpose could my presence possibly be of interest to you?"
"Because people are interesting and fun to play with, and being by yourself gets really old after years and years of it. I have nothing to do, and I can't move around, so you're going to amuse me." It was as simple as that; Bruce might have forbidden him to do anything damaging to the man, but he still hadn't found all of the butler's little triggers, all the things that set him off. People were more entertaining than any robot.
Alfred stared at the man. "One game." There was no avoiding the Joker. He knew he didn't want to be anywhere near the madman. He knew it would amount to nothing but bad news. And yet, he had to admit that he was curious enough to stay, at least for a short while, and after the man had already asked him to. He couldn't help but believe that that miniscule iota of curiosity had a lot to do with Bruce. Bruce had brought the Joker here, after all. It was hard to ignore him, even if he wanted to, when the man he worked with everyday brought him into his home and spoke with him behind Alfred's back, somehow, miraculously, coming to an understanding between them.
"So you say," Joker countered with a grin, happy to have wheedled the older man into a game. Wheeling himself ahead of Alfred, he kept glancing back over his shoulder to be sure the man was following, leading them to the small lab table. "What games does an old geezer like you know how to play, anyways?"
"Whatever you usually play will suffice." Alfred followed, but kept a discreet distance. He stood opposite the Joker at the table, only sitting after the other man had settled into place. He laid his hands down on the surface in front of him, watching the Joker expectantly.
"Oh, c'mon, Freddy. Crack a smile. Don't you ever have any fun?" Joker asked, expertly shuffling the deck. "What about Spite and Malice? That should appeal to your sense of appropriateness, don't you think?" Dealing out the required piles and each of their hands, the clown made sure to pad the winning pile on either side. This game would take awhile.
Alfred said nothing. He watched the Joker stony faced before he picked up his cards. He looked at them briefly, then back at the Joker, waiting. He was pretty sure the man didn't care about playing cards, but he got the feeling that whatever he wanted from Alfred, he wouldn't come right out and say it.
The first few moves happened in silence, Joker watching Alfred just as intently as the butler was watching him. "...what are you so afraid of, Thaddeus? Bat isn't even your real kid, and even if he was, what would it be to you? I'd rather let him kill me than hurt him, anyways," he remarked, glancing at his hand in amusement before laying down his cards. "Your move."
"Bruce cares about a lot of people, not just himself you know." He paid attention to the game briefly, but soon found himself returning to their conversation. "I am glad that you don't seem interested in harming him. That is more than I had ever expected." He sighed, relaxing just a little. "I've always looked after him."
"But why? What difference does it make to you? You weren't getting anything out of it, unless Bat took a card from my deck and doesn't remember anything. Why the hell should you care?" Another moment of quiet passed as he silently placed his cards, drawing again from the pile. "I don't understand why he cares about everything so much, either. I just do what he wants, in some things, because it seems to make him happy."
"I get plenty out of it. I care about him." Alfred needed to make that known. If nothing else, that was the most important thing he wanted to say to the Joker. He studied the other man for some time. His words seemed to be genuine. Just like they had been before. "I think.....I believe you when you say that," the old man said, lowering his eyes slightly to rest on the cards in the other man's hands. "But I worry all the same. If you can admit that, then you must know that you can't be good for him."
"And why do you think that? You'd rather he continued the way he was, without anyone? Bat may kid himself, but you and I both know he's nearly as off the deep-end as they come. You also don't quite see who and what he is. Either you never have, or you don't anymore. He's told me as much." Another flip of a card, another renewed hand. "He smiles more, now, despite what he told me. Even if he's a spoiled rich boy, I think he deserves some fun in his life, and so do I. I've never had something like this before, and I won't give him up. I left the one time he asked, and I don't think he'll ever ask again." Joker's gaze finally rose from his hand, giving Alfred a hard, cold stare.
Alfred sighed. "You've got me wrong." He hadn't looked at his cards in some time. "I want him to be happy. I also want him to be able to do what he set out to do for the world. I can see that......he is happier, in ways, lately. And you.....you I had never expected to be sincerely happy with him. ....but. I don't know how long it can last."
The corner of Joker's mouth twitched up, the man in the wheelchair shuddering as he fought back the inexplicable urge to laugh. It finally became too much for him, leaving him slumped over the piles of cards on his side as his insanity echoed off the walls of the lair. "Oh god, Freddy, you're a hoot. What's the use in worrying?"
"You've never had anything to lose before, have you?" Alfred set his cards down on the table. "That is the "use" of worrying." It was strange; he knew the card game had been a tactic to get him to talk. But this talk didn't set him quite on edge as badly as some of their previous conversations had.
"No. I don't particularly care what else happens. I don't care if I die or not. There's not much that can be done to me anymore. Even the mob had no idea what to do." Joker paused, staring blankly at his hand without moving, his tongue swiping nervously across his lips. "I don't care as long as Bat's mine."
"And that's precisely why I worry," Alfred said with a half smile. "You won't know when to stop, when you've gone too far......how to keep him, and how to keep him happy." All the things that made a real relationship work.
Green eyes flicked up to watch Alfred over the edge of the cards, wary but curious. "...and you'd know these things?" He doubted the other man really had an edge over him; he'd tried to shoot him to death just to keep him away from Bruce. Anything that came from the older man had a large possibility of simply being a manipulation to try to destroy things and make him leave. "Enlighten me, then."
Alfred's eyes narrowed in thought. He sat back, unconsciously correcting his posture a bit as he took in the Joker. "You seem to live on a series of highs. Whatever you can get. I realize.....Bruce doesn't have the most stable life, but what he does have, he needs. You want to give him those highs that you find, but I don't think he can live on that, much as he may enjoy it."
The madman watched him, radiating defensiveness. "...so what would you suggest then, Freddy? I promised I wouldn't try to change him any longer. I haven't killed anyone in weeks because it makes him happy. What more would you have me do, short of making myself a mask with pointy ears and pretending I go along with his theories of how things work?"
The butler sighed. The only answer he had to that, he knew the Joker wouldn't want to hear. He shook his head and turned the words he wanted to say over in his mind. "That is all....more than I ever thought you would do. I hope you can keep it up. ...I have no answer for you but to leave him."
"I won't do that. I can't," he barked, visibly upset at the suggestion. I knew it. Manipulative bastard. His heart had already begun racing despite the pain medication that dulled his reactions, his fingers itching for some sort of retribution. Normally, anything or anyone that disturbed him this much would have signed its death warrent already. "I can't do that, and you can't make me."
Alfred held his palms up defensively, pushing his chair back a little, obviously distressed by the Joker's anger. "No. No. I've done what I can." His mouth was set in a grim line when he spoke. "I just don't want to pick up what's left of the both of you when you're finished."
It was disturbing to watch just how close Joker's psychosis was to the surface, grinding his teeth and giving a muffled scream as one clawlike hand reached up to cover his face, nails digging into the skin enough to draw blood. The cards in his left hand were forgotten, clenched tight enough that they'd never quite resume their normal shape again.
Alfred rose quickly, distancing himself from the other man. "I told you what I think. I told you the truth, and that's what you asked for." It was hard to watch, and even harder to know if the Joker would come after him next.
"That isn't truth. That's what you want me to do, so you're trying to convince me that such a thing is inevitable," Joker growled, glaring at Alfred between the spaces of his fingers. "I'd kill myself before doing anything to hurt him anymore. Fuck my promise, I'd kill anyone that tried to really hurt him. I am not going to lose him to anyone, least of all you."
"That is the truth of what I believe," Alfred shot back with more conviction. "I can't make him leave you, and I can't make you leave him either." He shook his head, not knowing what else he could do. He'd done all he could.....there.....wasn't anything left. He had not more than resignation and a tiny futile brand of hope.
"I call bullshit. You want him for yourself and don't know what else to do now that you can't make me leave, make him throw me out, or kill me." His hands finally unclenched, going to the wheels of his chair and backing him away from the table. He no longer had any desire to be near the elderly man, curiosity or no.
"You're right, I don't want to lose him!" Alfred shouted. "I also don't want him dead, and I don't want him to hate himself!" He was breathing hard, posture on the verge of retreating but still standing his ground.
That was when things suddenly became surreal. The skinny man in the wheelchair abruptly paused, jolting to a halt and shivering. He didn't seem to know how to react to the other man, especially with the knowledge that killing him out of fear and rage would likely mean that he lost Bruce. "I don't want that either, I don't want it, I don't-" His jaw clenched again in agitation, baring yellowed fangs as his hand hands went back to his face, tangling and pulling at his hair while tears slid down his face.
Alfred's tension melted visibly. He was left with nothing but consternation. They were on the same level here somehow, and he felt it then. His lips parted, but he didn't know what to say. He shook his head, trying at the same time to see the other man...... Could anyone really see the Joker?
The silence in the lair was palpable, broken only by the soft, choked sounds coming from the clown as he visibly unraveled in front of Alfred. He didn't seem able or willing to let go of himself, every once in awhile one hand going down to touch the silver rim handles on the wheels before returning to a death grip somewhere on his person.
Alfred watched, calming only because it was fairly certain that the Joker wasn't about to attack him. Otherwise, the scene before him was painful to observe. He almost wanted to go to the man, but his rational mind knew the Joker would never allow it. "I'm sorry." It was all he could offer.
Joker couldn't even work his mind to the point where he could respond with anything intelligible. Suddenly feeling vulnerable and threatened by the butler's presence, a rare jolt of fear spurred him out of his frozen state. Awkwardly working the wheels of his chair, the madman fled to one of the auxilery rooms off of the lair.
It was with disbelief that the butler watched him go. It was strange and ironic that he almost felt like he'd learned something about the madman just then. He'd never been so.....open. Alfred never imagined he'd see someone like the Joker that way. Never imagined the Joker would allow himself to be seen that way. Ever.
Retreating to the small bedroom that Bruce and he had used before, Joker locked the door, eying it in a paranoid fashion as if he expected the butler to come breaking it down to do something unspeakable. Backing away from it, the clown struggled to pull himself out of the wheelchair and onto the bed. Still a neurotic mess from the confrontation, unable to do anything about it, he burrowed into the darkness under the covers like a frightened child.
In the main room, now eerily silent, Alfred took a moment to gather himself back together as well. Eventually he left for the penthouse, trying to put the experience behind him. The next time he saw the Joker..... He wasn't yet sure if anything had changed between them.
Gordon sighed, pushing around the paperwork he'd been busying himself with for the past few hours. Ever since the ordeal at the hospital, with the vague answers he'd gotten out of the Joker and the subsequent escape... he hadn't been able to think straight. The other officers had noticed his distraction and left him in peace thus far, but if he was to quiet the tumult of questions inside of him and be able to concentrate on his job he needed answers.
Putting down his pen, the Commissioner rose from his chair. The office was quiet at the moment, and full of people he trusted. His people. Now was as good as ever. Taking the key from his belt that unlocked the stairwell to the roof, Gordon made his way towards the signal he used to summon his vigilante friend. He could only hope the summons would be answered, and that they were, indeed, still on the same side.
Bruce had been easing down the streets toward the MCU as discreetly as possible. He parked the conspicuous pod a ways away from his destination, hiding it from onlookers and passersby. He hoped he wouldn't need to make a quick getaway later. The signal was riding high in the cloud covered sky overhead. He knew it was a dangerous move for the Commissioner. It probably wouldn't be lit for long. So, he made his way to the building carefully, checking out the surrounding area in advance. Batman journeyed three hundred and sixty degrees around the MCU structure, searching out the best locations for a possible ambush, finding none. It didn't seem like a setup, but he had to be sure. Of course, if they really did want to ambush him, they did have a structure full of cops right beneath that rooftop.
He made out Gordon's figure, standing near the beam of light and looking out at the darkness of the city. He seemed nervous. After a minute or two of watching, Bruce glided over and scaled the building, stepping down on the rooftop behind him.
Pacing, still unaware that Batman had appeared right behind him, Gordon sighed and flipped the switch on the signal. It looked like there wouldn't be any answers tonight. Sticking his hands in his pockets to shield them against the night's cold, the commissioner gazed out over the lights of the city. Things looked so peaceful from this high up. It was hard to believe sometimes that Gotham's streets were full of enough violence and crime to rival New York or LA.
Bruce couldn't quite discern his mood from where he stood. He simply seemed......quiet. Bruce stayed away from the center of the roof, hugging the edges and the shadows. "Gordon." He said it quietly, but firmly.
Startled, Gordon whipped around, eyes searching the shadows before he caught sight of the faint outline of a figure - black on black. "I thought you weren't coming." Approaching cautiously, Gordon took his hands out of his pockets, pulling on a pair of thin gloves. It wouldn't do to make the vigilante nervous and end their meeting prematurely. "We need to talk."
"Yes, we do," Bruce replied, standing stationary. Some tension eased from his mind knowing that Gordon had been at least willing to see him. It didn't make what he had to tell the man much easier, but it was a small relief. In spite of the Joker's warnings, he trusted Gordon. He always had, from the very day he'd first met him decades ago.
"Everyone's been getting nervous. My men don't know if you can be trusted anymore. Hell, I'm not even sure myself," Gordon admitted, looking slightly sheepish at voicing his doubts. "I need to know what's going on. Are you still with us? Or have other things clouded your judgment?" As serious as the questions were, the commissioner's voice held no hint of anger or accusation, simply concern.
"I am with you." Bruce didn't miss a beat. He took a moment to collect himself, the rise and fall of his chest the only sign of distress. "I haven't left your side, and I need you to know that." After short pause, he stepped away from the shadow cast down from the stairwell.
"Would you mind telling me what's going on, then?" Gordon asked, watching the armored man step into the light. "Did you have anything to do with the hospital escape? Or the rampage through the city and the desecration of the Wayne family plot? What happened to Maroni and his men? What's this 'deal' the Joker said you had?" He knew the slew of questions was probably overwhelming, but he was missing so many pieces of the big picture that they just kept pouring out to hang in the air between them.
Bruce closed his eyes and nodded, accepting the rush and the Commissioner's need to get it all out at once. "The hospital, yes. The Wayne plot, no." It would be so easy to lie, Gordon would have believed him, but.....he couldn't. As hard as it was to admit to taking the Joker away from the police, he couldn't lie to Gordon. The man trusted him because of it. "Gordon......I've taken the Joker in." His jaw set; it wasn't easy to tell him this. "He wants to be there, and so long as he is, he won't put the city under attack. .......it hasn't been.......easy."
Gordon mulled over this information for a second, trying to process it all. "...you were the Arkham aide, then." He frowned in thought. "But why go to such lengths to take him out of our custody? Why take him in? I realize the Joker was highly medicated when I questioned him, but... he told me he struck some sort of deal with you, something that kept him from murdering anyone anymore. He refused to tell me what he got out of it in turn." Serious brown eyes bored into the hero, trying to get a feel for the other man. "What are you giving him that's keeping him in check?"
"Nothing. No drugs anyway." Bruce was doing his best not to show any signs of discomfort, but it was difficult. "Like I said, he wants to be there. He can break out of almost anything." Bruce averted his eyes, resting on Gordon's shadow. They'd never had a conversation like this. ".....I tried to lock him up after he broke out of Arkham. He didn't like that; he got hold of one of my vehicles when he got out. But he....didn't want to leave either. After a while......I learned more about him." Bruce paused, taking the time to shake his head. "Maroni and his men captured him. They tortured him. Broke his legs. .....I had to bring him to the hospital."
"There's more you aren't telling me. I don't think Joker's the type to become a quiet homebody unless he's getting something pretty valuable in return." So Batman had been the one who had found him there. "That warehouse was a mess by the time we found it. Did..." God, do I want to know? "Did you have anything to do with Maroni's death?"
Bruce's eyes met the Commissioner's. There wasn't anything at all happy in that gaze, and it showed, visibly. "Gordon......." His rigid posture was gone, his head inclined forward as if to lessen just an inch of the distance between them. His voice was barely there, on the verge of breaking. "I killed him." The usually hard, straight line of his mouth was twisted, a glimpse of despair breaking free. "His men, they shot themselves trying to get to me. But Maroni........Maroni....... They had him strung up. I didn't even know if he was alive. So I.......I took the Joker's knife and I killed him." Bruce took a step forward. He was really breaking down. And Gordon.....Gordon may have been the Joker's enemy, but he was the only one who understood. He was......the only one....who was right where Bruce was. He had to understand.
Gordon stepped forward and put his hands on the taller man's shoulders, real concern showing on his face - not just at the breach of the law, but over the obvious turmoil the vigilante seemed to be feeling. "I understand being distraught over seeing anyone like that, but why? Why not just take them down and leave Maroni and his men to us, like you always have?" He could only imagine something happening like that with one of his cops if things had suddenly gotten too personal - like with family, or a close partner they'd worked with for years. I wonder... "What is he to you, besides another human being in need?"
Bruce had practically fallen to the ground. As it was, he was down on one knee, doing his best to keep himself together in front of the Commissioner. He felt just like he had all those years ago, with Gordon at the police station.....just after his parents died. The man's comforting grasp and soulful eyes hadn't changed. And he'd always believed in Bruce. There was a reason Bruce trusted him. "I.....I need him. I couldn't let him go. Couldn't let him go back to that place." Resting there, breathing hard, he was finally unraveling. "That was our 'deal'. I can have him, if he can have me."
"Easy there, man. Breathe." Gordon couldn't believe what he was hearing, much less what he was seeing. His mysterious partner had always seemed so stern, so self assured. It was hard to watch him fall apart like this. "Take a minute if you need it." He had a flask in his pocket that he kept on hand for when things got rough on the job, when good men and women saw and experienced things that no person ever should, but he doubted the darkly armored figure would accept even a sip to calm his nerves. His hands still on Batman's shoulders, supporting him, Gordon gave him a sympathetic smile that he hoped was reassuring. "I'm still not certain I understand. You managed to... befriend Joker? He does what you want in exchange for you giving him favors?"
Bruce almost laughed, which in itself would have been funny considering the situation. But he did calm down a little. Though not supporting his weight completely, Gordon was at least keeping him balanced. His unconscious mind knew that they were alone, so he was able to relax as much as he could. "Intimacy. That's.....that's all he wanted."
Gordon's jaw dropped, leaving Batman with the hilarious image of a mustached fish gaping for breath. "...you're sleeping with him to keep him from killing people?" Gordon had to say, even as dedicated as he was to the ideals of justice, he wasn't certain he'd be able to go that far. This did, however, explain some of the Joker's bizarre behavior and comments in the hospital. "And you're alright with this?" He couldn't even imagine.
Bruce did smile then. It was a small one, but a smile nonetheless. "It wasn't exactly.......planned. It happened, and I wasn't expecting it. I wasn't expecting to......to care for him either." He swallowed, finding his voice again. It had softened a great deal from the gravelly tone he used with Gordon, but it was still a far cry from his own.
Tonight was full of bombshells, one after another. Even if Batman wouldn't accept a drink, Gordon would need one after this. "That can't... be easy." Quite the understatement of the year. "I couldn't figure out why Joker was acting the way he was when I questioned him, but I suppose... it makes sense now." This made things all the more difficult. "But you have him under control? Do you think he..." God, I'm no good at this. "...returns the... feelings, or is he trying to use them to manipulate you to his advantage?" It was concerning, both because of the possible hold the madman now held over Gotham's greatest source of hope and because he did care about what happened to the man behind the mask.
Shaking his head, Bruce knew it would be tough to convince Gordon of what had happened. "No. He had to convince me to feel for him in return. .....do you remember what he said to me, locked up in that interrogation room the night that Dent....? He said that I completed him. That's how he feels; I'm certain of it."
"Just be careful," Gordon intoned, shaking the other man slightly. "Feelings can often cloud our better judgement, and there are people who care about you. I care, both as a partner and a friend." He actually felt relieved that Batman trusted him enough to reveal even this much. "We both fight for the same thing. I don't want to see you hurt by this. Even if he feels that way now, he's not stable."
Bruce swallowed; his mouth had gone dry. "Believe me, I know." His posture returned a bit when he straightened to clasp Gordon's upper arm in return. "And thank you." He had a feeling that Gordon had just done more for him then than either of them realized. They had trusted one another before intuitively, but now it was cemented. "He won't be going anywhere for a while, the way his legs are. And, I apologize for the....." His words trailed off, but he tapped the side of his cheekbone, indicating the faint black circle that bloomed on Gordon's skin from the morning he'd broken the Joker out.
Gordon smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Accepted, though I'll get you back for that bit of trickery. Just you wait. You're not the only one who can pull a fast one." His tone was light and teasing; all was forgiven between them. They'd worked together for too long to hold grudges for a bruised cheek and ego. "It does make me wonder just what you really do look like. Do you go masquerading as other people often?" the commissioner laughed, still trying to reconcile the images of the nerdy Arkham aide with the intimidating man before him.
"Not too often," Bruce replied lightly. He could see the wheels turning in the Commissioner's head as things turned back to normal. While climbing back to his feet, helping Gordon as well, he felt more grateful to this man than he had to anyone in a long time. "What will you do now?"
"Do my best to reassure my trusted men that you're still on our side," Gordon replied simply, his mind still reeling from all the new information he'd been given. "It won't be easy, but they trust me, and I trust you. I appreciate you letting me in on all of this." He held onto the vigilante's hand longer than it took to get back to his feet, giving it one firm shake. Partners. "You can trust me. God knows you've done wonders for this city. If you need anything, let me know. As the Commissioner, or as a friend."
Bruce gave him a genuine smile. It probably looked at least unusual underneath the mask, but it was worth it for Gordon to see. "I know I can trust you. I always have." The Commissioner just didn't know how long that "always" had been for the shadowy figure before him. He hoped he got the message across nevertheless. This time, he stepped up onto the edge of the wall while Gordon was watching, turning back to look at him before he jumped off the ledge, spreading out the cloak and catching the thermals of air between the tall buildings.
Feeling marginally better now that he knew the other man hadn't gone insane or switched sides, Gordon stayed on the rooftop a little longer, digging that flask out of his pocket and taking a swig as he looked out over the city. Nothing is ever as simple as it looks. Capping the silver canteen and returning it to the folds of his coat, the Commissioner went back inside to warm up and finish his paperwork for the night.
Note: It's baaaaaaaaaack~ We're finally picking up again, and are very sorry for such a long wait. Raz has still got it tough, but is doing better little by little. Things may still be slow, but they're gradually steadying out. Thanks so much.