Nightwing
I’ve made it to one of Batman’s many break stations. I can’t exactly say that getting here was a breeze, though. I had to keep a finger in my stomach wound to keep it from bleeding. Yeah, it was painful, but it was necessary. I’d be dead by now if I had continued to bleed.
Luckily Batman keeps these break stations well stashed. I’ve managed to find some gauze and bandages to wrap myself up with. I don’t know how functional I’ll be until I get the bandages off. With my shoulders wrapped up, I can only move my arms so much. Then again, I’m not having much trouble moving right now. I didn’t exactly do a bang up job. Alfred usually does the patching.
I’ve searched the station and I can’t seem to find any links back to the cave. I don’t know why Batman wouldn’t have any kind of communication device here, but I’m sure he has a good reason. That reason is beyond me and it’s costing me at the moment. I guess I’ll have to walk back to the cave if I can’t find anything.
I keep looking.
I get to one drawer that I haven’t checked yet. I open it and find some of Batman’s civilian clothes inside. Those will do me no good. I’d rather walk around in Joker’s tight skivvies than trip over Bruce Wayne’s pants. Batman’s considerably larger than I am and there’s no way that his clothes would even remotely fit me.
I toss the shirt aside and check the pants. Maybe there’ll be a cell phone in one of the pockets that I can use to get a hold of Alfred with. I check the right pocket first and find a set of keys and a business card. I check the left pocket and find small device that looks like a miniature taser. I take the taser and stick it in one of my coat pockets.
I search the back pockets and find nothing but Bruce’s wallet. Well, that’s nice. I’m mortally wounded and I can’t even call to get a freakin’ ride. You’d think Batman would have a phone down here somewhere, but what would I know? After all, when I was Robin he didn’t even have these break stations or the tunnels.
I decide that there’s no reason to stick around here wishing for the impossible. I might as well just suck it up and make the walk. Hell, I’ve been through worse. Why sweat this? If I can’t make a simple trip like this, then I don’t deserve to live through this.
I’m about to walk off into the tunnel when I see the Batsuit across the room.
I’m so freakin’ stupid it’s not even funny.
I walk over and open the glass case. The cowl of the Batsuit should have a communication device built in just like all of the others. If there isn’t one, then there is a God and he truly hates me.
I pull the cowl out and put it on. If I’m not wearing the damn thing then I can’t work it. Me and technology don’t exactly mix well. I’m sure I look like a complete fool right now wearing Batman’s cowl and Joker’s coat. I probably look like some kind of sick lab experiment.
What would happen if Batman and Joker were combined?
I put my hand up to my ear and wait for an answer.
“Master Bruce?” Alfred’s voice questions in my ear.
“Not exactly,” I reply.
“Dick?”
“Yeah. Listen, I need some help here. I’ve got a hole in my stomach that’s bleedin’ like crazy, and two more in each shoulder that aren’t exactly flattering me either.”
“My! Master Bruce will be glad to hear that you’ve been found. Are you alright?”
“About as alright as I can be right now. So, can you come pick me up?”
“Certainly, Master Dick. I may, however, be awhile.”
“Come on, Alfred. You can drive fast for once. It should be fun for you driving the Batmobile.”
“That’s…That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“Well, for the last few weeks the car has been in quite the state of disrepair. I’m afraid Master Bruce or I haven’t had the time to make the proper repairs.”
“Great! So, what do we do?”
“I’ll meet you at the break station entrance near Oracle’s clock tower. Judging by the signal that cowl is sending out, you shouldn’t be all that far from it.”
“I’ll try to get there. See ya, Alfred.”
“As with you, Master Dick.”
I rip the cowl off and toss it back into the glass case. Well, isn’t this just freakin’ great? I suggested that Batman get rid of some of the older Batmobile models. The cave was getting way too crowded and something had to go. So, Batman shipped the old cars across the ocean to Europe; now, they’re somewhere underground in Ireland.
I’m regretting ever saying that.
Now, I have to walk. True, the hatch that Alfred was talking about isn’t all that far from here, but it’s pretty damn far to walk when you’ve a got lawn dart wound in your stomach. I suppose I could thank Joker the next time I see him. I get to chalk up another item on my list of past injuries: broken arm, concussion, lawn dart to the stomach, etc.
Yeah, it’s been fun.
I start to walk.
This sucks. It’s not like I’m lazy or anything. Swinging on those grapple lines is just as tiring as walking, if not more. The one tradeoff is that walking isn’t as fun as swinging from twenty story or more buildings. Sorry, but I don’t see where walking could give anyone the same thrill as that air in your face and the catch as you release another line. That, and walking isn’t as fun as driving a fast car.
I reach a fork in the tunnel and turn into the right tunnel. I don’t really know these tunnels all that well, but I’ve been to that break station before and I’ve taken this same route to Oracle’s clock tower. It’s kind of hard to tell the different break stations apart; they’re all set up exactly the same. However, Batman has marked each one very discreetly with a set of tally marks that are hidden in different spots in every break station. I recognized that one because I found the three tally marks in the far corner that Batman showed to me when he was teaching me the route to Oracle’s place.
I reach another fork and turn left this time. Alfred said he’d be a while, but I’m not exactly making great time myself. I wore myself out jogging away from Joker’s warehouse, so I can barely manage to walk right now. The arrow wound in my leg has started to act up and my leg is killing me. I’ve worked my way down from a jog to a limp.
I question now why it was that I was going to help Harley. It she hadn’t have hit me with that mallet yesterday morning, I never would have gotten into this mess. My head still freakin’ hurts from that damn mallet too. I probably have a concussion. For a normal person that would mean passing out and vomiting while standing. Well, I’m not a normal person. I was trained by the best.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the same threshold for pain that Batman has. Take getting hit with a mallet for example: the pain probably didn’t bother him when Harley hit him a few weeks back.
I’m still not very close to where I want to be. Most of these tunnels aren’t exactly for walking through anyway. These tunnels were dug so that Batman could drive under the city and avoid traffic. The first tunnel was built as a way of Batman getting out of Wayne Manor without anyone seeing him. I’ll admit that the first tunnel was a good idea, but this maze of paths under the city seems a little over thought.
If Joker hadn’t shot me in the leg with that arrow, then I’d probably be there by now. I wonder what Joker’s going to do next. It seems to me that he wants to kill off Batman’s “partners”, myself included, and he may be going after Batman himself. That seems a little crazy, but Joker’s more than a little crazy and, with Joke-Man blowing things up, he’s probably trying to get back the spotlight.
I make another turn. This is too much for me. I was about killed a couple hours ago, and now I have to trek across the damn city. Maybe when I see Batman again I’ll suggest a moving sidewalk for these tunnels.
I finally turn into the tunnel that I need to be in, but I’m still about a quarter’s way from the hatch. I maneuver myself from the center to the side of the tunnel. This tunnel is wider than the others that I just walked through, meaning that this tunnel is for the car. The Batmobile may be “in disrepair”, but Batman’s got other vehicles that he could run me over with.
“Batman!” I shout down the tunnel.
The attempt goes unanswered. Hey, it was worth a shot. He could very well have been driving through the tunnel and he would have heard that. He would have, that is, if he was in the tunnel. I just can’t catch a break.
Then, I wonder why it is that Alfred didn’t just send Batman to pick me up. Well, I guess he doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. After all, he has his hands pretty full with this whole mess.
I look forward into the shadows and see a distinctive shape on the ceiling. It’s hard to see at first because this tunnel is almost completely black with darkness. The only lights are the small wires that line the floor of the tunnel. I squint my eyes to make sure that I’m really seeing it.
Yes!
I found the hatch!
I walk forward and put myself directly under the hatch. The thought occurs to me now that getting up to it may be impossible. See, Batman usually just jumps up there and unscrews the damn thing. Well, jumping isn’t exactly an option for me at the moment. Of course, Batman didn’t even have the decency to put any kind of ladder down here or anything.
Maybe I can just wait for Alfred to come and open it.
No, that won’t work. Alfred isn’t strong enough to move the dumpster that covers the hatch. That’s not cruel, it’s just the truth. For that matter, I’m not so sure that I could do it right now either. I guess, though, that I’ll have to try.
I make a feeble attempt to jump. I make it about a foot off of the ground and get my feet twisted. I fall down hard on my ass. The shock jolts through my whole body and elevates my pain.
Well, I really needed that right now.
I struggle back to my feet. I stare coldly at the hatch above me. I can’t help but feel like it’s laughing at me. I now have a personal vendetta against that hatch. Sad isn’t it, that I should blame the hatch?
I jump again, this time getting a little higher. I fail again, but I land on my feet this time. That doesn’t exactly feel any better than landing on my ass, but at least I’m not humiliated. Not that there’s anyone to see me screw up, but I have standards that I place on myself.
This is gonna be a long night.
Out of nowhere there is a scream.
I wait for another scream, wanting to pinpoint the location. There is another scream. I guess I wouldn’t exactly call them screams, but there is a man making a fearful ruckus right above my head. At least, it sounds like a man. If it isn’t a man, then there’s a very butch chick up there.
Nothing holds me back this time. I ignore all of the pain and spring up into the air, grabbing hold of the hatch. As fast as I can, I turn the hatch wheel. My arms scream with pain, but I continue. Eventually, the hatch swings open with me still grasping the wheel.
I let go with one arm and reach around the hatch, grasping the wheel on the other side. I let go with my other arm and swing my body around to the other side of the hatch. I grab the wheel with both hands. I look up and see the bottom of the dumpster. I can hear the man grunting above, probably struggling with his assailant. I position myself in such a way that I can put both hands on the dumpster’s floor. I’m pretty much doing a split with one leg on the hatch and the other on the lip of the hole.
I push on the dumpster with all of the strength left in my arms. The thought hits me that there won’t be much that I’ll be able to do once I get up there, but I have to try. Maybe Alfred will stumble upon the situation and signal Batman.
I don’t even hesitate. As soon as the dumpster’s been moved, I leap out of the tunnel and into the alley. Finally, I’m back in the real world. Now, I have to focus on the situation. I turn and look in the direction of the man’s grunting.
“Nightwing? How unfortunate. When I saw you coming out of the ground with that purple coat I was hoping that you were Joker.”
Joke-Man stands across from me with a knife held to Alfred’s throat.
“You let him go,” I say through clenched teeth.
“I will once he tells me where his boss is hiding.”
“I don’t care what you want. I won’t let you kill him.”
“What stake do you have in this old man’s life?”
“He’s innocent. You’ve got a knife to his throat. I have as much stake in this as anyone.”
“You people with your rules and morals. When will you learn?”
“I can’t tell. Maybe never. I’d prefer it that way.”
“You’re quite the smart ass, eh? I like your sense of humor, kid. It cancels out your boss’s broody aura.”
Okay. Now he’s pissed me off.
“Batman is not my ‘boss.’ He doesn’t control me.”
“Doesn’t he? Hmmm? Always pulling the strings. Always giving the orders.”
“You don’t know how it is.”
“I don’t? I’ve watched you. I’ve watched you all for weeks. No, I’m wrong, though. It must have been your idea to get drugged outside of Parker’s apartment.”
His words hit me hard.
“How did you know about that?”
“Like I said, I’ve been watching.”
“Don’t let him get into your head,” Alfred growls.
“Be quiet, old man,” Joke-Man says to Alfred. “You’ll get your chance to talk soon enough.”
I’m not sure what I need to do here. However, none of us have had much conference with Joke-Man and there is some valuable information that we need out of him. I’ll start with some of the personal things.
“Where are you keeping Robin?” I ask.
“Your little friend is perfectly safe. That is, so long as Batman stays out of my way.”
“What are doing with him?”
“I thought that was clear. I’m using him as Joker bait.”
“Joker won’t show up. You think that threatening to kill Robin will make Joker envious, but he won’t care. If he wants Robin dead then he won’t care how it happens.”
“On the contrary. Joker wants to kill Robin for the glory it will bring amongst his peers. He won’t let a rookie like me steal the spotlight.”
“So, you expect Joker to just walk into your death trap?”
“Of course not. Joker isn’t that stupid. He’ll send Harley in to check the house before he even steps foot in there.”
“So, what’s the plan after that?”
“You’ve seemed to have forgotten about your little friend here,” Joke-Man says, patting Alfred on the head. Alfred looks up at Joke-Man and frowns.
“I want to know what you’re planning.”
“No good scheme is ever accomplished by spilling the beans to the enemy.”
“How can you be so sure I’m the enemy?”
“Don’t try to trick me, kid. You’re not as smart as your mentor.”
All of a sudden, a small black ball drops between us. Joke-Man and I both look down quickly, focusing on the mysterious ball. It looks vaguely familiar, but I don’t to wait to find out. I dive behind the dumpster and duck for cover. Joke-Man still has Alfred, but he’s likely to get to cover himself after seeing me dive away.
From behind the dumpster, I hear a small explosion. Suddenly a cloud of smoke fills the alley. That’s where I’ve seen one of those balls before. Alfred was showing me Batman’s new smoke bombs the other night in the cave. Knowing that, I now know what’s coming next.
There is a loud whooshing sound that echoes in the confides of the alley. Afterwards, there isn’t a single sound for some time. I stand to look over the dumpster, but I can’t see a thing through this smoke. I don’t need to see, though. I know what’s about to happen.
Suddenly, there is a loud thumping sound and a small cracking noise accompanies it. The smoke begins to clear a minute later.
Standing down the alley from me is Batman with Joke-Man lying at his feet.
“Are you alright, Nightwing?” Batman asks.
“I’ll be alright,” I reply, making my way towards him.
I reach him and stand next to him, looking down at Joke-Man. Alfred is standing against a wall rubbing his throat and looking down at Joke-Man himself. Joke-Man appears to be out cold, but appearances can be deceiving. It’s for this reason that Batman quickly cuffs Joke-Man’s hands.
“So, this is how it ends?” I ask. “All of that trouble and it ends so easily.”
Batman turns and stares right into my eyes.
“This isn’t over,” he says without emotion. “We take him to Gordon, and then we find out where’s he’s keeping Robin.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Commissioner James Gordon
We finally got the bastard! Now all we need is for Batman to bring Joker in and we can wrap this case. Well, Church may still be out there somewhere, but we won’t know if he’s still missing until we unmask Joke-Man.
I walk down the hall of the city building with a fresh cup of coffee and the Joke-Man files tucked under my arm. We’ve had to move here since that psychopath blew up Gotham Central. It’s not that big of deal; it’s not like Webster is exactly using the building. Foerg and Bullock walk behind me ready for a bad situation. I can’t trust that Joke-Man won’t pull something funny here and I want some protection.
We reach the door to Webster’s old office. This is where we’re going to do the interrogation. It’s strange really. This is where Joke-Man killed Webster and in this same place he’s going to be questioned. I guess irony triumphs over all things.
“I want you two to stay out here and guard the door. I’ll fire off a round if things get out of hand,” I order Foerg and Bullock.
“Sure thing. Be careful in there, Sir,” Foerg says, grinning. I’m sure he’s as glad to see this all end as everyone else is. He very well could have been one of Joke-Man’s next victims.
I go into the room.
Inside, Joke-Man is sitting at the desk with his back towards the door. Batman is standing in the far left corner and what I think is Nightwing is standing in the far right corner spinning a large globe. I walk up to this motley group, making my way around the desk. I take a seat in Webster’s old chair, throwing my files down on the desk. I first stare coldly at Joke-Man opposite me.
Then, I can’t help but look back at Nightwing.
“What the hell are you wearing, son?”
“I had a fun night,” Nightwing says sarcastically, frowning and grinning.
I turn back to Joke-Man, shaking my head. I look the man over, making my feelings about him evident with the look on my face. It’s taking a lot for me to not jump across the table right now and clock him.
“Joke-Man…You look shorter close up,” I open.
“I get that a lot.”
“The time for joking is over. You’re finished.”
“Am I?”
I chuckle softly and shake my head.
“I suppose you have some kind of plan, eh? Tell me, Joke-Man: How do you plan to get out of this situation?”
“How would it work if I told you?”
“Maybe you can tell us, and then we’ll tell you if there’s a chance of it happening,” Nightwing pipes up.
“Quiet,” Batman scolds.
“I think you touched a nerve,” Joke-Man says to Nightwing.
“Anything else you want to say before I rip that damn mask off?” I ask.
“Yes, there is. First: this is a helmet, not a mask. Second: Bravo, Commissioner! I wiped out nearly all of your men and yet you still got your man. I can’t say that I could do the same. Third: I hope that my jokes have taught the intended lessons. Tell me, Commissioner: Have you learned your priorities?”
“My daughter has always been the most important thing in my life. You just remember that.”
“Good. Fourth-”
“There’s a fourth thing? You gonna let this babble go on all night?” Nightwing interrupts.
“Go on, Joke-Man,” I say reluctantly.
“Thank you. Fourth…” Joke-Man pauses and looks to Nightwing for another interruption. When it doesn’t come, he continues. “I congratulate you, Batman. Nothing can get past you, can it? This city is truly lucky to have you.”
“Save it,” Batman growls.
“Well, then, Commissioner, I believe I’m ready to reveal myself.”
“You wanna take this one, Batman?” I ask, turning towards his towering shadow.
Batman comes out of the dark corner and walks around the desk. Batman stands behind Joke-Man and puts his hands each on either side of the helmet. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for since the night Webster was killed. This is the night I’ve been begging for since the night Joke-Man blew up Gotham Central.
“Oh, and Commissioner…”Joke-Man blurts.
Batman’s hands begin to change as they pull up on the helmet.
“…This is the second joke,” Batman finishes as he yanks off the helmet, his whole body beginning to change.
My jaw drops open.
Sitting across from me is Robin.
Standing behind him is Clayface.
“What the hell!” Nightwing yells behind me, breaking the silence.
“How…?” is all I can mutter.
Robin nervously runs his hand through his hair. Clayface chuckles quietly to himself.
This is impossible.
This is insane.
This is a whole new ballgame.
“An explanation, please!” Nightwing demands.
Clayface reaches inside himself. I’ve seen some disturbing things, but watching Clayface fish around in his own innards is terribly troubling. He brings his hand back out and tosses something onto the desk.
I pick it up and look it over. It’s a tape recorder. Its entire surface is covered with smiley face stickers. This thing smells of Clayface’s nasty core and I have to set it back down to avoid vomiting. I don’t have to ask what to do next.
“Just hit play,” Robin mutters.
I hit the play button and immediately roll after of roll of laughter comes bursting from the speaker. The laughter goes on for minutes. I look over at Nightwing and see a look of absolute disgust on his face. The laughter finally subsides and the real Joke-Man’s voice comes through the speaker.
“Good evening, Commissioner. If you’re listening to this, then you’ve captured me. Oh, wait! No, you haven’t!” Another roll of laughter burst through the speaker. “I’m sorry, Gordon, I really am. I can’t help it. It’s just so funny! So, what do you think your lesson was this time?”
He pauses for a minute or two as if waiting for my answer.
“Nothing to offer? Well, then I’ll tell you. Tonight’s lesson was quite simple: Watch in whom you place your trust. You see, Commissioner, you’ve gotten too comfortable with your situation. I meant every word that Robin said about Batman. However, when you’re dealing with people like Batman, you always have to be on your toes. You’ve been off your toes for too long, Commissioner. You’ve trusted Batman because, so far, he hasn’t done anything to bring harm to your city. Though, you never know exactly what a man will do. We can all snap at any time and turn on those we hold most dear.”
He pauses again, letting his words sink in before he continues.
“As for you, Nightwing, I have only one thing to say: You are lucky. Not everyone is so fortunate to escape Joker’s madness.”
“How the hell did he know that I’d be here?” Nightwing asks with a confused look that he directs at me.
“There’s one other thing I want to say before I’m finished: Please, don’t blame Robin for his actions here tonight. As dangerous as the situation was that he was in, he really had no choice but to do as I told. Don’t judge him too harshly. Oh, and, Clayface, if you’re wondering what that pain is that’s been throbbing in your head, it’s a bomb.”
Not a second after Joke-Man utters his last word does Clayface’s head explodes, spewing clay all over the office.
“He timed that pretty well,” Nightwing jokes.
I ignore the fact that Clayface just died and place my eyes on Robin. The kid was a part of Joke-Man’s plans. He may have some insight into what else that psychopath is going to do.
“I want to know everything,” I tell Robin as I pass my coffee across the table for him.
“I don’t know much,” he says shrugging. “I can tell you this much: he’s a hell of a lot smarter than I first gave him credit for.”
“Here’s a question: How did he know that Alfred Pennyworth was going to be in that alley? How did he know I was going to be in that same alley?” Nightwing asks.
“Well, he’s been watching you for the last couple of days. He saw Joker take you away after the explosion at Gotham Central. He followed Joker and kept an eye on you. He intercepted the signal you put out when you called for help and listened in. That’s how he knew you’d be there.”
“He knew I was with Joker and he just let that clown torture me! I thought he wanted to kill Joker, not side with him!”
“He said it was ‘necessary for the second joke.’ I can’t understand his thinking.”
“What about Alfred?” I ask.
“Alfred was driving into the city when I sprang from the back seat and stole the car. I drove to the location that Joke-Man told me to. Once Nightwing arrived, I was told to act like I was looking for Bruce Wayne.”
“Why the elaborate set up? Why not just have Clayface come in with you in cuffs? Why involve Alfred and Nightwing?”
“For the plan to work, we needed convincing views. Since Nightwing and Alfred actually thought that what was happening was real, Clayface and I appeared legitimate.”
“How long has he been planning this?” Nightwing asks.
“Since he intercepted your call. Like I said, he’s smarter than what we all thought.”
“We have to tell the real Batman about this,” I say. “He may be able to derive some evidence from this mess.”
I hold up the tape recorder.
“That and he may be able to get something from this tape.”
“Am I free to go, Commissioner?” Robin asks.
I look over at Nightwing. It’s really up to their fraternity to decide whether he gets trouble for this. Nightwing walks around the desk and pats Robin on the shoulder.
“Let’s get out of here,” Nightwing sighs.
Robin stands and the two walk out of the office.
This is all getting so confusing. Just when I think I’ve got it figured out, Joke-Man does something completely unexpected and throws me off again. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this.
Lesson one: Learn my priorities.
Lesson two: Be careful who I trust.
Bullock walks into the office with a confused look on his face. His face twists up even more when he sees Clayface’s lifeless body on the floor. He takes the seat across from me and lights up a cigar. After taking a few drags, he sets the cigar in an ashtray on the desk and takes off his hat.
“Did I miss somethin’, Commish?” Bullock asks. “’Cause I’m pretty sure I just saw Robin walk outta here wearing Joke-Man get-up.”