Not Done Yet

Bruce, Rachel and Alfred gathered around the kitchen table and Rachel began pulling papers out of her briefcase, sorting them carefully into neat piles as the two men watched. Bruce's mouth was set in a tense line.

Rachel regarded her paper stacks with satisfaction. She glanced at her audience and took a deep breath. "All right. The way I see it, we have a three-fold challenge as far as the Joker is concerned. One, he escaped from Arkham. Two, he's a barely-under-control criminal and lunatic. Three, his ex apparently hates him and no doubt would prefer never to have her son lay eyes on him again. Correct?" Rachel's eye caught Bruce's and she barely managed to contain a smirk. She'd never be able to look at him the same way again.

Bruce saw her look and silently cursed the Joker, wishing he could excuse himself for a moment to go beat the living daylights out of him. Later, he promised himself soothingly. "That sums it up pretty well."

"Well. I just discovered this morning that there was a raid on a mob hang out on East 58th Street. That's not very far from here. There was evidence that two men were being held captive there. The body of one was found in the trunk of a car, but the other man hasn't been found." Rachel smiled smugly, waiting for Bruce to grasp her meaning. He stared at her.

"So? How does that help anything?"

"Don't you see? You take the Joker in and say you found him wandering the streets in a daze. He can claim amnesia--the story will be that the mob guys kidnapped him from Arkham to get revenge, or torture some information out of him, or whatever the hell you want to say, and were keeping him a prisoner. Get it?"

Alfred had finally forced the image of his naked, bound and prone employer from his mind and was frowning in concentration. "So, he could not be held responsible for his unauthorized departure from the asylum..."

"Right. All the potential witnesses were killed in the raid, so there's no one to refute the story. The other captive is either dead or on the lam, and I'm sure he has no desire to talk to the cops. Of course, it would help to rough up your, uh, 'friend' a bit, first. To make it look more authentic. Somehow, I don't think you'll have a problem with that." Rachel's smirk finally found it's way to her face and Bruce reddened considerably. "Put some ligature marks on his wrists, a black eye or two and it'll be perfect."

Bruce shot her a sour look. "Ok, but all that does is put the Joker right back in Arkham, which I can assure you, he will NOT be happy about."

"True. But--what if there was a way to limit the time he'd have to spend there, and get him legitimate, ongoing therapy and proper medication from now on? Wouldn't he be willing to do that if it meant the possibility of getting to be a part of his son's life again? Not to mention being able to, you know, live a more or less 'normal' life--with you--down the road?"

Bruce stared at the table, biting his lip. "Well... Jack's not one for delayed gratification. But, yeah, he might go for it, depending... How in hell do you think we could pull that off?"

Clearly pleased with herself, Rachel pulled a piece of paper from the top of one of her stacks. "Remember Dr. Schwartz?" she asked Bruce.

"Sure, he's the doctor I was personally paying to care for Jack while he was in Arkham."

"Right. Well, apparently, he originally agreed to take the case, not just for the money, but because he had been developing a system of treatment back in Germany that he wanted to try out on a real live American psychopath. And, obviously, he couldn't have asked for a better one than the Joker."

Bruce looked quizzically at Rachel.

"Is that why Jack improved so quickly?"

"Yes, so it would seem. Dr. Schwartz was devastated when the Joker disappeared, he was so close to moving forward with a broader patient base. But, he's willing to work out a new program, tailored just for him--one year in-patient at Arkham, followed by a trial six month out-patient period, which of course, would be supervised by the GPD.

"He'd have to wear an ankle monitor, check in daily, there'd be surprise case-worker visits, the whole bit. But--if he succeeds in all of that, he would then be placed on a three-year probation, and at the end of that time a hearing would be held to decide whether he was competent to be under his own custody. Assuming he did well--he would be released. Completely."

Bruce shook his head in amazement.

"And, Arkham and the Commissioner would go along with that?"

"Dr. Schwartz had it all planned out and approved before the Joker went missing."

"Damn, that's amazing. So...what about Ethan, Jack's son? How does he figure into all this?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked." Rachel rifled through another stack until she found the sheet she wanted. "Under Gotham Family Law statutes, if a parent is in a mental health treatment facility and found not to be a threat to him/herself or others, that parent can petition for court-mandated supervised visitations within the facility. In other words, the Joker could force his wife to let him see his son under very limited conditions, within Arkham."

"No... fucking... way..." a nasal voice intoned. All three turned to look at the Joker, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and a defiant expression on his face.

"Jack, just a minute..." cautioned Bruce.

"No just a minute, I'm not having my kid see me in the loony bin. In fact, I'm not stepping foot in the nut hatchery ever again, unless you tie me up and drop me off there, and then I won't stay long. I'll be out and gone and you'll never see me again."

"Joker--uh, Jack, " Rachel said quickly, "please give this a chance! You have so much to gain. Sit down and I'll go over all this with you..."

"No thanks, gorgeous, I heard enough. Include me out of your little scheme, I'm not buying it. In fact, it's beginning to look like I should just hit the road right now. Before Bat-brain gets any more ideas." He turned and started heading toward the front door, apparently intent on walking straight out into the night. Bruce abruptly shot out of his chair and strode over to him. He grabbed his arm before he got his hand on the knob.

"Listen to me. You do not want to do this. You do not. Please, Jack, turn around, come here, come here," Bruce's voice dropped to a soothing tone and he put his hands on Jack's shoulders. The clown reluctantly stopped and turned to look Bruce in the eye.

"What? What makes you think I could live up to those expectations, huh? I'm barely holding it together now, how do you think I'd do in captivity? Hm? I couldn't go through that again, even if I wanted to. I'd just fuck everything up, and make it worse. You're better off without me, and so is Ethan. Maybe you could, you know, keep on eye on him for me, huh? If I knew you were looking out for him, I could disappear for good and not think twice about it. I'd just... disappear." He stared intently, and Bruce shook his head.

"No, Jack. Your son--is your son. He should know his father. And... I don't want to lose you, I've told you that. I meant it. Please. Come back in here and let Rachel go over everything for you. You can do this. Think about it--the day could come that I could take you to a restaurant--to a movie--we could walk down the street together--and not have to worry about you being arrested. We could even go on vacations together... I want that. Don't you?"

Jack didn't say anything. Bruce firmly gripped his arm and led him back to the kitchen, and gently pushed him into a chair. He refused to look at anyone and Rachel glanced at Bruce questioningly. He nodded and she began at the beginning, explaining each facet of the plan carefully. Jack didn't interrupt, but appeared not to be listening to a word that she said. When Rachel finished, the room was dead quiet.

Finally, Jack said in a low voice to Bruce, "You think I can do this?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"You really think they can make Beth bring my kid to see me?" he asked Rachel.

"Yes, as long as you're cooperating with your doctor and the court."

"And, if I do--someday--get released? Would she still have to let me see him?"

Rachel's face fell. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying to find the right words.

"If you are no longer in a supervised in-patient treatment program... it will be up to a judge to decide about visitation and custody. And, of course--your past will be taken into account... No, there's no guarantee you would continue to get to see him."

The room fell silent again.

Then Rachel added, "Of course, by that time you would have had at least four and a half years of court-mandated visits. You might be able to convince your ex that... that your son should continue to get to see you. And, if nothing else, you'll have a chance to establish a relationship with Ethan so that he might want to get you back into his life once he becomes an adult."

The Joker made a derisive snort and sighed heavily.

"Ok." His voice was almost inaudible, but Bruce heard him clearly, and he gratefully pulled him into his arms and pressed his face against his scarred cheek.

"It's going to be ok. It's going to work out, you just wait and see. I'll do everything I can to help you, I'll be there for you every step of the way," Bruce assured him.

Jack looked up, first at Alfred, then at Rachel before turning his head so that he could speak directly into Bruce's ear. "And, you think it'll be worth it?" he whispered skeptically.

Bruce pulled back to look deeply into his eyes. "Yes. I think you're worth it. Please, Jack. Believe in yourself, and believe in me." He was silent for a long moment then took a deep breath. "I love you, Jack. I love you." Everyone at the table heard him. Jack turned his head back and forth like a dog trying to understand his human. He finally answered:

"And you think I'm the one who needs to be in the loony-bin."

Bruce broke into a broad smile and hugged him again. Rachel watched the Joker slowly put his arms around Bruce and tentatively return the hug.

He didn't like it, not one bit. But he'd do it. He'd do it for Bruce and he'd do it for Ethan. And maybe, a little bit, for himself.

Maybe.