The Trail

Thanks for the reviews and sorry for the delay in posting this. I'll be updating a couple of chapters a week from now on! Enjoy and please review again!

The tower was burning. Flames, smoke, and the insufferable heat were forcing him back at all times. Debris and destruction blocked his path, no matter what direction he took. There were screams of terror hitting him from all areas, and although he swung from one direction to the next, there was no way through. He could hear them crying out for help, praying to their God for salvation. But he knew that their pleas were pointless. Because although help had come, there was no way for it to reach them.

He could feel himself being overcome by the smoke. He knew he couldn’t save them. If he stayed in the building for much longer, he would die with them.

There was no choice; he’d have to admit defeat.

That bastard had won — again.

Turning on his heel and sobbing with both pain and anger, he made his escape, running back through what was once an impressive tower block, but now a gutted deathtrap. He ran as fast as he could, staring straight ahead, not wanting to see the death surrounding him. Or, what was left of those people unlucky enough to come to work that day.

His head hurt and his throat ached. He coughed painfully.

He could see the night sky. He was almost out. Away from the stench and the hell.

And that was when he saw him, standing there amidst all that horror that he himself had caused.

How could you escape Hell when the Devil itself was stalking you?

The hated figure was leant against a wall, his arms crossed. Then he began to laugh.

Batman stopped dead. He wanted to kill him and make all those people’s deaths in that place mean something. He wanted to grab the monster and wring the life out of him. He wanted an end to that horrible laughter.

And on cue, the Joker’s laughter cut off abruptly.

He stepped carefully into the building he had wrecked, his hands held above him. Batman could see his knife glinting in the fiery light. The Joker bowed his head but kept his eyes trained on Batman.

The Bat’s fists were clenched at his side.

“Found you.” He growled.

“So you did,” the Joker responded with a grin. “Tell me, what did you think of round four?”

With a yell, Batman charged forward and the Joker raced to meet him. Batman shouted his fury as the Joker shrieked with delight. Hands outstretched, Batman reached out for his foe and realized that in the midst of that stricken, flaming tower, he knew he would have to continue this bloody fight until one of them was dead. Maybe today would be the day.

He grabbed for the Joker’s throat.

“Master Wayne?”

Today WOULD be that day if he could help it...

“Master Wayne!”

The Joker cut at him with his knife, drawing blood. “Who’s gonna protect Gordon when you’re gone?”

“Master Wayne, wake up!”

With a jolt, Bruce Wayne awoke. He blinked his eyes, trying to focus. He gazed up into the kind face of his butler Alfred. Realizing he had again been suffering from a nightmare, he covered his face with his hands.

“Master Wayne,” Alfred repeated. “I’ve brought you your breakfast, sir.”

Bruce sighed. Good old Alfred. Keeping everything as normal as possible. And as usual, he knew exactly what Bruce needed.

“Thank you, Alfred,” the young billionaire whispered. And then, as if he needed to explain, “I had a tough night.”

“I could tell, sir.”

Bruce attempted a smile. He stretched. “What time is it?”

“Almost midday.”

Bruce sat bolt upright. “What? Why didn’t you wake me? I had a meeting with Lucius this morning.”

Alfred held up his hands to restrain the younger man.

“I’ve spoken to Mr. Fox, sir, and he agreed it would be a good idea to let you rest. He’s been watching the news, too. I’ve rescheduled your meeting for later this week.”

Bruce sighed and lay back down. “Thanks, Alfred.”

Alfred nodded. “This dream of yours—was it the tower again?”

He offered the breakfast tray to Bruce.

Bruce noticed it, sighed, and pulled himself up into a sitting position, this time carefully, and took the tray from Alfred, balancing it on his lap. “It’s always the same nightmare.” He replied. “The other night, with the Joker and those people in that building.” He looked down. “Their screams, Alfred. They don’t ever stop.”

The older man placed a comforting hand on his master’s shoulder. “You saved thirty people that day, Master Wayne. You couldn’t reach a few and they sadly perished, which is a tragedy. But it’s not your fault. You saved at least thirty. That’s what you need to think about. That dozen or so that lost their lives, their deaths were at the hands of the Joker, not yours.”

“And that’s a dozen deaths too many, Alfred!” Bruce shot across him, knocking his friend’s hand away. “No one should be dying. They’re dying because of me!” He paused before adding, “Again!”

Alfred frowned. “As I said, they died because of the Joker.”

“Who I let escape! The night Gordon was attacked, I let him walk because I promised I would. Why did I think I could fight a man like him with honor? He doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

“But you do,” Alfred replied softly. “And that’s what sets you part from him, sir.”

Alfred really knew how to pick his words. Bruce was calmed by them and realized that they made sense. He had thought that allowing the Joker to walk THAT night, the Joker would have kept the battle between them. But it had been a vain hope.

As Alfred began to busy himself with tidying the room, Bruce’s thoughts again turned to that night – and the horror that had stayed with him since.

For two weeks, there had been peace. Batman had hunted for a trail but had found nothing. The Joker had kept quiet and stayed out of the way. Batman knew he would be planning something and had never relaxed. He had kept an eye at all times on Gordon, recovering in the temporary hospital, but he, too, had been left alone. No threats, jokes, or announcements from the Joker at all.

Batman had been more unnerved then ever at the Joker’s behavior. And the Gotham police force was getting tetchy at the waiting game. Forced to move into a temporary base and with their Commissioner in the hospital, they were itching for some payback. Batman had had contact with Stephens and eventually managed to convince him to stay calm and patient.

The day after that, it had happened.

It had started out a perfectly normal day, nothing extraordinary at all. Apart from it being Gordon’s first day back at work, of course. Bruce had decided Batman would keep his distance from the Commissioner for some time, hoping that Gordon would find his own feet again and slip back into work as smoothly as possible.

He should have expected that the Joker would have had other ideas.

He was on his way into work when the announcement came over the radio. The Joker had stormed into an office building and was holding all the workers for ransom. He was demanding for both Batman and Gordon to meet him at the chosen location, and the pair of them were to be unarmed—and unmasked. Batman would not—could not—agree to his demands, and there was no way he would allow Gordon anywhere near the Joker. In response to their refusals, the Joker had become incensed and had set the building on fire – just as Batman had arrived on the scene, hoping to save the innocent people involved.

He’d managed to get many of the hostages out, fighting past the Joker and his new band of cronies as he went along. He hadn’t been able to reach the upper-most floors of the building, despite the damned knowing he was near them. Their desperate screams for his help would stay with him forever.

Batman, being beaten back by the flames and smoke, was forced to leave those people to die. He had rushed back through the blazing inferno that had once been a tall office block – and had found the Joker waiting for him, barring his way out. Something had snapped inside Batman. No more innocent people would lose their lives because neither Bruce Wayne nor Batman were capable of doing what was necessary. The Joker would die that day and Gotham would be free of him.

They had fought furiously, each man injuring the other. The Joker had knocked Batman to the ground, taunting him about Gordon and the City. Batman had pushed at the freak with all his might, sending him tumbling away. At that moment, more of the building had caved in, blocking his path to the Joker – but also blocking the Joker’s escape.

He had made up his mind instantly. The Joker’s screams followed him as he made his exit, leaping out of the building and into the night sky. He had left the Joker to die. He had taken the coward’s way out.

He should have finished his enemy himself – and not left it to the flames.

“Did they find him?” Alfred suddenly asked, bringing Bruce out of his musings.

“Sorry?” Bruce asked him, looking up. His old friend was standing directly in front of him, leaning slightly toward him, arms crossed behind his back. Alfred was watching Bruce curiously.

“The Joker. Was his body found?”

Bruce shook his head in response. “There are no records of the Joker that exist anywhere, so there’s no way to identify him. We’ll have to wait and see if any remains are unaccounted for in the next few days. With a bit of luck, he’s in there.”

Alfred glanced at his master.

“You seem almost down at the prospect, Master Wayne.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, this man who has caused so much chaos and pain to so many people, including yourself, is probably dead. You don’t seem that happy about it, if you don’t mind my saying.”

Bruce was thoughtful. “Of course it’s good news, Alfred, if he’s actually gone. Everyone can breathe easier. But I just left him there to die; I couldn’t end it myself. I wanted to. I’d made up my mind to finish him. But then the decision was taken away from Batman, away from me.”

Alfred shrugged. “And why is that such a problem?”

Bruce groaned. “I turned and ran, Alfred. I left him there to burn. It was Ra’s al Ghul all over again. I wasn’t willing to do what was necessary.” He bowed his head.

“No matter the cause of his death, sir, Rachel and Harvey now have some justice. Thanks to you.”

Bruce swallowed hard at those words.

“I still didn’t kill him myself, Alfred. I’m still not even sure that I could have.”

“And that, Master Wayne, is what sets you apart from the likes of the Joker and Ra’s al Ghul. That is what makes you better.”

Bruce was moved. “You have to say that. You work for me.”

Alfred smiled. “It’s about a little bit more than that, sir.” The older man walked toward the door. “Maybe you deserved a break. You and Commissioner Gordon both. This all occurred on his first day back as I understand it?”

“Yeah,” Bruce confirmed. “I thought I might stop by the new station today. See how he’s doing.” He paused, before adding more softly, “Least I can do.”

Alfred, shaking his head, placed his hand on the doorknob. “It’s like I’ve always said, sir, you’re too hard on yourself.”

“Maybe,” Bruce muttered.

“Be careful not to crowd Mr. Gordon, sir. He needs to get back to normality and for that to happen, it is going to take time. He’s suffered a lot.”

“You have no idea.” Bruce whispered.

Alfred raised an eyebrow.

“Neither myself nor anyone else in Gotham ever needs to know what happened that night on the rooftop, Master Wayne. And Jim Gordon deserves for it to stay that way. Have a good day, sir. Better call Mr. Fox to let him know all is well. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Alfred.”

The butler gave him a polite bow, smiled warmly, and then hurried out of the door, leaving Bruce to his business and his thoughts. His musings turned to the conversation he was to have that evening with Gordon. He found he was nervous about the meeting. He had promised to help Gordon in his recovery, whatever it took to get Jim through.

Neither Bruce nor Batman would let him down.

______________________________

Jim Gordon stood in the mayor’s office, gazing down upon his boss. It had been a busy few days for the Commissioner. The busier he was, the less time he had to reflect.

The attack on the office block two days ago had put Gotham on red alert once again, and each and every officer was doing his duty. The small property that had been chosen as their new department building was alive with activity, and the patrolmen were again doing their rounds. The gutted, burned-down tower was already being thoroughly investigated, even as bodies were still being brought out.

Gordon himself had ordered his men in there. His decision was not popular.

The people had said the Gotham City Police Department’s haste had been disrespectful to the dead and the mayor had apparently agreed with them. He had summoned Gordon to his office to hear his explanation and that was what Gordon had now been attempting to do for the past thirty minutes.

He had needn’t bothered. The mayor’s mind was already made up.

“Pull your men out, Jim, right now. And let those poor people bury their dead. They deserve that, don’t they?”

“Of course, sir,” Jim said with a sigh. “But what if the Joker is still alive? There may be clues in that building. If he is still out there, this is our best chance at locating him and prevent him from murdering anyone else!”

The mayor frowned.

“Jim, I appreciate your desire to punish this man...”

“It’s not about that!” Jim shot back, his temper rising.

The mayor had that sympathetic sound to his tone of voice that Jim so despised. Gordon opened his mouth to argue his point further but the mayor held up a weary hand, stopping him.

“It was you yourself that told me you had received word that the Joker was presumed dead. You told me that this was from a trusted source. Is that no longer the case?”

Jim struggled to control his anger.

“We can’t take that chance, Mr. Mayor.” He knew he was pushing this, but he had no choice. He had to make this man understand. “If the Joker was injured that day but somehow made it out, we could still have a chance of finding him. But we have to act now!”

He may as well have been speaking to a brick wall.

“The Joker is dead, Gordon. Let it go. Your men will be leave that tower block immediatly. The order has been sent. The investigation can wait until the city has finished grieving.”

Jim was seething. He leaned over the mayor’s desk. “You gave me this position for a reason. Now for crying out loud, let me get out there and do my goddamned job!”

The mayor paused, his face stern. “Perhaps you should go home, Jim. Get some rest. Stephens can run the department until you are fit enough to return.”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s unfortunate that this happened now, Gordon. I believe that your feelings toward the Joker has clouded your judgment where he is concerned – and that is completely understandable, seeing what you went through.” Jim clenched his fists. The mayor didn’t notice. “Have some more time off and look after yourself. Once this has all been cleared up, we can all get back to normal.”

Jim stared at the mayor, openmouthed. Go back home? What the hell? He needed to work! That was normal for him!

“I don’t remember you doubting my judgment when I took a bullet for you,” Gordon told him coldly.

The mayor pursed his lips and glared back. “Go home, Commissioner, or be escorted there. Whichever you prefer.”

Jim stared at the other man for a few moments, still wondering if this was some kind of sick joke at his expense. The mayor’s face remained expressionless and Jim had to accept that this was for real. His cheeks reddening, he turned and stormed toward the door. With one last glance at the other man, Jim took his leave and slammed the door hard behind him.

He bristled down the corridor, marching toward the exit. This was still unbelievable for him. Having spent weeks in that tiny, miserable room they called a “makeshift hospital,” he finally got to leave, only to then kick his heels at home for two more long weeks with Barbara fussing around him. It was such a relief to return to work this week, finally able to get his life back on track. And then, only three days into the job, they turned him away again?

How could they do this to him?

Just as Jim reached the main entrance to the building, growing more incensed with every step, he heard his name being called from behind him. He turned expectantly, believing that the mayor had finally come to his senses and was chasing after him to apologize.

He was annoyed to see Stephens rushing up toward him.

“Commissioner, wait.”

“What do you want, Detective?”

Hearing the anger in his tone, Stephens’ smile faded.

“Sorry, sir, the mayor wanted... eh... he told me to... escort you home...”

Gordon stared at Stephens in disbelief.

“The mayor told you to walk me to my car? And to hold my hand, too, no doubt!”

Stephens didn’t know how to respond. He swallowed nervously.

After a brief pause, Gordon whispered, “You all think I need help, don’t you? Well, I’m fine. You hear me? And you can report that back to the mayor.”

Gordon turned his back on Stephens and walked through the doorway. Stephens was stunned; he didn’t know how to react to the Commissioner.

“Sir, please!” He called, panicked.

Gordon paused. He glanced back.

“I want to hear of any developments, Stephens. You tell me as soon as they happen. This is still my department, until I hear otherwise. People need to remember that.”

With that, Gordon stormed away. Stephens followed his chief out through the door and watched the Commissioner hurrying away, toward the underground car park.

“The mayor is worried about you, sir.” Stephens called to Gordon. “We all are!”

He was ignored. All he could do was gaze after Jim Gordon’s retreating back. And his fears for the Commissioner grew with every passing second.

______________________________

Gordon hurried along the street, still fuming. He swore under his breath as he walked.

Did all of them think him incapable? The mayor, Stephens, the rest of the department? Exactly how much did they know about that night?

Jim was only aware of Batman and the Joker knowing the truth. He had been surprised that the Joker hadn’t told Gotham of “their fun time together.” Surely the clown would have known how devastated by that Jim would have been if anyone had found out, least of all, the whole city? And now, his rapist was presumed dead. Gordon trusted that Batman would never mention the assault again, and he had faith in the Dark Knight. So, maybe Gordon was free of the fear of Gotham learning that the Joker had raped him. That was one less thing for him to be afraid of.

Because since that day, he was always afraid.

As Jim rushed toward the car park, he couldn’t help but react to everyone he passed. What if one of them was connected to the Joker? What if the Joker himself was still out there somewhere, just waiting for any other chance to get at him? Gordon told himself he was being ridiculous, that he was perfectly safe, but there was no getting away from those feelings of unease. Or, that freezing coldness in his belly that grew inside of him whenever he was left on his own. If someone walked up behind him, he froze instantly. He had already yelled at two of his recruits for doing exactly that. Apologizing afterwards didn’t help. The damage was done the moment he showed his fear.

The agony he had woken up to every single day in that hospital, thankfully, that had passed eventually. He was still taking strong painkillers to make it through the day but at least it didn’t hurt to walk, or even run, anymore. He was a fit man, a perk that came from being part of the force. His body had recovered well from its injuries. However, even though the physical scars were healing, the same could not be said for the damage caused to his soul. He had to endure test after test for every sexually-transmitted disease going. It had been a nightmare for his whole family. The counseling sessions afterwards had proved useless. How exactly does a man cope after being used and assaulted by a psychotic freak that had lived to cause pain? Gordon was in pieces. How do you even start mending your soul?

He had been left a broken man by the attack, exactly what the Joker had been aiming for.

He had lost the mental battle that night as well as the physical one.

At last, he saw his car parked where he had left it and relief flooded through him. He all but ran to his vehicle, already scrambling in his pocket for his keys. He was painfully aware that he completely alone. The car park was dimly lit and damp; it would be an easy place for someone to hide.

He gave himself a shake. “Snap out of it, Jim!” He mumbled to himself.

He found his keys and with trembling hands, attempted unsuccessfully to place them in the lock.

That’s when he heard the noise. A noise that made his blood run cold. It was the sound of quiet, mocking laughter.

He swung round quickly. There was no one behind him.

“Anyone there?” He called out, trying to hide his fear.

There was no reply.

He turned quickly and with a small sob, again tried to unlock his car.

The soft laughter came again, taunting him.

Jim’s car keys slipped out of his sweaty grasp and fell to the floor. Cursing, he dropped to his knees to retrieve them.

He snatched them up and stood up again. Batman stood right beside him, watching him.

Jim jumped, startled, and let out a strangled cry. In a panic, he struck out at the Bat, trying to force his supposed attacker away. Batman grabbed Gordon’s wrist and held onto him, waiting for the other man’s terror to subside.

“Gordon, it’s me.” He muttered, trying to calm the struggling man.

Gordon’s eyes widened as he stared at Batman, seeing him clearly for the first time. The Commissioner wrenched his arm free from the Batman and glared at him.

“What did you think you were doing, sneaking up on me like that?”

“I’m sorry. I thought you heard me.”

Jim snorted. “Oh, I heard you, all right! What was the joke by the way?”

Batman blinked. “Joke?”

Jim frowned. “Something obviously tickled you! What was so funny?”

Batman was confused. Jim saw his quizzical expression and his heart sank. Maybe he had imagined that laughter. Yes, that must have been it. He was under pressure after all. It couldn’t have been the Joker anyway, could it? He was dead.

Before Batman could question him further, Jim said, “Did you want me for something? Has anything happened?”

“Nothing,” Batman said gruffly. “I wanted to check on you.”

Jim smirked. “Oh you, too? People really think I’ve lost it, don’t they? Even you, as it turns out.”

“No,” Batman replied. “I just wanted to see how you were.”

“Well, you’ve seen me.” Gordon shot back. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have to go. I’ve been sent home.”

“Sent home?” Batman repeated.

Gordon had very little patience left. “Yes, that’s right. Sent home in disgrace because I can’t cope, apparently. Anything else you want to know?”

Batman frowned. “Gordon, enough. I just want to help you.”

Gordon stopped dead. He stared at the Batman, his eyes blazing.

“You want to help me? Well, maybe you’re a little late for that.”

Batman froze.

“Gordon, I…”

“No! Where were you when I needed you? When that bastard held me down against your signal and defiled me. What took you so long? Where were you?” Gordon turned away, overcome with emotion.

Batman was stunned. Before he had a chance to reply, he heard voices from behind him. Others had returned for their cars. It was time to leave.

When Gordon looked back round, the Batman was gone. Jim looked from left to right, but as expected, there was no sign.

“Figures,” Jim whispered to himself.

Taking up no more time, he again turned to face his car. He kicked himself when it dawned on him he could simply hit the button to unlock the vehicle. All that scrapping around hadn’t even been necessary. What was wrong with him? The car beeped as he touched the button and he shook his head, mumbling to himself. Opening his car door, he got inside and sat there, staring into space. He covered his face with his hands.

How long would he feel like this? To panicked to even remember how to open his own car?

Batman cared about him. He should be proud of that. The man had saved Jim’s life. Jim would not forget that. But Batman reminded him of the worse day of his life, and he wasn’t sure that that would ever change.

He turned the key in the ignition and the car’s engine growled into life. He watched as the man and the woman who had interrupted his conversation with Batman walked out of sight. He even felt fearful of these two complete strangers. Every single person in Gotham could now be a potential threat.

With a heavy sigh, Jim sped away.

He didn’t notice the figure stepping out of the shadows.

The man in the purple coat.

The man the whole of Gotham believed to be dead.

The Joker, after ensuring he was completely alone, smirked and licked his knife.

“I’ll see you real soon, Commissioner.”

TBC