#chap 11

"Well my personality isn't for everyone and what if--"

"Baby," Jeongguk cuts you off sweetly, leaning in just the smallest bit closer, "your personality is astounding. Jimin and Tae can be idiots but they would never treat you wrongly. They know how much this means to me, how much you mean to me. They're going to love you."

You've always been under the impression that the sudden romantic relationship you've entered has had a profound impact on the handsome escort but it's never really sunk in until now.

You mean something to this man.

Strangely, it doesn't put you off of him for a second. You want to get to know him more, you want more of these talks and more of these feelings.

You're for once willing to open up to someone and let them in.

Fuck being scared and cold, you're personality is basically rewriting itself with every earnest word he speaks and you're in love with that notion.

"Ready?" Guk asks, grabbing your bag from the backseat and pulling it over the middle console.

"Yes," you reply sweetly.

You're ready for pretty much anything now, Jeongguk is absolutely worth it.

The apartment building the escort lives in is simple but you find it apt for him and his personality. The hallways are lined with cream wallpaper that have tiny lines decorating them vertically that somehow makes it feel homey and comfortable. The sconces on the walls are simple pewter and the light they give off is just the slightest bit yellow which compliments the wallpaper and the dark gray carpet underfoot.

The escort looks in his element here, slinging your expensive bag over his shoulder he glides down the hallway with confidence. To see someone in their own home is usually the most eye opening thing, you can see their comfort level, what they like, how they act in a place of their own.

For you, your mansion was never really home so you aren't sure what people can see about you when you're inside of it.

Guk whistles a sweet tune that carries through the stagnant air as he rounds the corner of the hall and he slings his arm over your shoulders with a smirk. "4D, this is us."

Us.

You aren't sure if he plans out the things that he's going to say or if he really is just the sweetest, smoothest person of all time.

"Brace yourself," he whispers happily.

Your body goes almost rigid on his command, hearing nail scratches behind the front door of his apartment.

"He's a big dude," the escort whispers, putting the key in the lock.

"Hawking, step back," Jeongguk calls through the door with a laugh.

When he cracks the door open, you can see the huge door excitedly wagging his tail, hoping to welcome his owner home.

"We have a guest!" Guk cheers, stepping inside the apartment and waiting for you with a smile.

When you step inside the large black great dane is up to your waist and he's not paying a lick of attention to you as he runs around his owner happily greeting him home.

When the escort laughs vibrantly, crouching down to accept the love, your heart flutters sweetly inside of your chest. He looks up at you with his soft doe eyes and you immediately feel warmth spreading through your limbs like a drug.

"Look! Isn't daddy's girlfriend so pretty?" Guk coos, standing up tall.

Your skin raises goosebumps at the simple word and you're taken aback by how naturally it rolls off his tongue.

"Hi Hawking," you whisper, petting the top off his head.

"You are my girlfriend, right? I'd hate to lie to man's best friend," the escort quips, setting down your bag on the couch.

Hawking licks your hand sweetly and you want to just sit down beside him and hold him for days, he looks up at you so sweetly that it makes you feel like mush.

When you have a chance to look around the apartment you notice how completely clean it is. There's not a piece of dust or a crumb anywhere in sight. Not to mention how bright and open it is with all the windows around.

The escort has comfortable furniture and the house feels more lived in, something you would never feel in the dark mansion you own.

"Sit down," your boyfriend insists, throwing himself down on the couch.

He opens his arms, narrowing his eyes at Hawking who tries to jump on the couch before you.

You can tell that you're moving awkwardly already, especially when your muscles strain awkwardly to sit down.

The escort can tell almost immediately how uncomfortable you are and he tries to help by running a soothing hand over your exposed thigh.

"What do you want me to make for dinner?" he inquires, brushing some hair back behind your ear.

The question distracts you and suddenly you're too concerned with your thoughts that you sag comfortably against him and the couch.

"I can just order something for all of us," you suggest, looking over at him.

He shakes his head, groaning loudly when his large dog jumps on the couch and lays their weight on him.

"You're not a Yorkie, buddy. Jesus!" he wheezes, petting Hawking as he lays his head over your lap.

"He's really cute," you whisper, smiling down at him.

"The guys like it," Guk announces, stretching his legs out and putting them atop his coffee table.

Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head to look at him in confusion.

"Jimin and Taehyung," he clarifies, kissing your cheek, "they like my cooking."

"I didn't know you cook," you reply, allowing him to pull you closer.

"I love cooking. Hopefully you'll enjoy it too. I'll even make you dessert," the escort whispers, winking.

"What kind?" you inquire innocently, looking around the living room.

"Somethin' real tasty," he answers, slapping your inner thigh just hard enough to produce a sting that makes you suck a shallow breath between your teeth.

"How does Coq au Vin sound?" your boyfriend asks, combing his fingers through his hair.

"If you can make that, sure," you whisper, running your hand over Hawking's head when he begins to doze off on your lap.

"Oh, baby, I can make anything," he promises, sliding his dog off his lap to get up.

Being in this apartment with this man makes you really feel like this is something that you can get used to.

You can already feel yourself opening up, you want to experience these things again even if you fight it every step of the way.

Jeongguk is not Jasper.

He's not out to hurt you.

You keep reminding yourself over and over again but it isn't as easy as just berating yourself for being so closed off.

The apartment smells simply divine, the aroma of red wine and perfectly cooked vegetables permeate the air wonderfully.

Jeongguk truly is amazing at everything.

The gentle pop music that echoes throughout the apartment and the sight of your handsome man cooking dinner has allowed you to relax to the fullest extent possible.

Currently, you're lying long ways on the large black couch with Hawking beside you. For such a big dog he truly is incredibly gentle.

The escort moves with such grace around his kitchen. Even though it's small and cozy, he makes it seem like he's in a restaurant.

Jeongguk hums melodically to the current song that plays, bringing a spoon coated in the stew liquid to his mouth.

You watch with rapt fascination as he enters the spoon past his lips and he nods to himself before grabbing the pepper and eyeballing more into the pot.

Hawking licks at your elbow for attention and you realize you've stopped paying attention to anything else. You're enraptured with the shirtless man making you dinner in his apartment.

You give a kind smile to the dog, going back to mindlessly petting him.

When Jeongguk claps, you tilt your head to watch his arm muscles flex and contort with the movement.

After putting the pot in the oven, he turns his head to look at you only to realize you've been staring for quite some time. He smiles widely at the sight of your innocent eyes and he winks at you fof good measure.

"What do you think?" he asks, holding up two different bottles of red wine.

"The Marquise is good for deep dishes like this one," you reply, pointing to the left bottle.

"Perfect," he smiles, setting down the left one and grabbing the wine opener for the right one.

This is so domestic.

You would never think that this is something you would be doing on a random Thursday.

Your boyfriend brings over a glass for you, filled perfectly to the curve of the glass.

"My dad used to be a line cook so I know some stuff about cheffing it up," Guk says, handing you the glass.

"It smells amazing!" you reply earnestly.

He lifts your ankles, sitting down at the end of the couch and narrowing his eyes playfully at his dog who simply lays his head on your breast lazily.

"You can change and get comfy y'know, you look too good in that expensive dress to be sitting on a couch covered in dog hair," your boyfriend offers, running his fingers thoughtlessly over your calf.

"I wanna make a good first impression," you avow, taking a sip of the wine.

It's the truth, really. Jimin and Taehyung are probably incredibly protective of him. They helped him through everything with Chloe, it's only right that they have their reservations about you.

Hell, you even have reservations about you.

"Just be yourself and they're going to love you," Guk promises, angling himself closer to you.

You set the wine down on the coffee table, letting the pop you don't normally listen to wrap you in a comforting blanket of melodic tones.

"Y'know," your boyfriend breathes, smirking wickedly at you, "I can always get you naked and make you change."

You laugh softly, adoring how his mocha orbs become lustfully playful at the drop of a hat.

"Oh really?" you counter, knowing full well that Hawking is so large that there wouldn't be any way to do anything sexual.

"Mhm," he cajoles, clicking his teeth sharply, "Hawk, get down, bud."

The dog heeds his owners words, jumping off and over the arm of the couch easily.

Okay.

An oversight on your part.

"Uh," you breathe, looking at the door.

The escort slides between your thighs and he notches an eyebrow at your flustered expression. "They don't have a key."

He kisses up what is exposed on your thighs and you can simply only squirm lustfully under his touch.

"Lemme give you your dessert before dinner," he mumbles against your skin.

Your fingers card through his long black locks and right when you reach the apex of your thighs, the door's lock begins to open.

Guk is so flustered by the loud noise that he recoils so fast from you he almost pulls a muscle in his neck.

"Oh honey, we're home!" Jimin yells, thrusting the door open.

You look up wide eyed, slowly closing your knees and the older man immediately knows he's intruded upon something.

"What're you crazy kids doin'?" he guffaws, clearly not bothered by the flustered sight of you both.

"Where did you get a key?!" Jeongguk gasps, tossing the throw blanket on the top of the couch over your legs.

Taehyung steps inside politely, nodding his salutations to you.

"You should really keep track of your belongings, Gukkie. I took your spare when we were here last time! You should be grateful. What if you end up choking one day and I'm the only one that can save you," Jimin replies happily, pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Seems like he was about to be choking on something else," Taehyung muses with a smirk, giving you a once over.

"This is Taehyung and Jimin," your boyfriend whispers softly, extending a hand from one to the other.

Oh.

This evening is going to be interesting.

The nurse’s breath comes in short pants, eyes wild. “Mr. Lynn, he was complaining about a stomachache, so we took him in, but he went crazy! H-he knocked one of us out, started pouring rubbing alcohol everywhere! I have no idea where he got his weapons, they were in lockdown-”

“Relax,” Dick says soothingly. “We’re gonna get this under control. Go find shelter in one of the other buildings.”

“Is anyone in the infirmary?” Bruce asks. The nurse nods, and he rushes off. “Take care of Firefly while I help them,” he calls out to Dick. He doesn’t look back as he rushes into the burning building, thanking his lucky stars his suit is fireproof. He thinks if he wasn’t in it he’d melt like a popsicle. Which makes him worry about those still stuck in the infirmary.

“Hello?” He calls out. He can barely hear over the crackling of the fire and the collapsing rubble, but a faint cough catches his attention. He walks carefully over to the sound, shielding himself from any falling debris.

Another cough. Fainter this time. It’s behind a weak, charred door, the smoke heavy and dark. Bruce doesn’t have a breathing mask on, he doesn’t have time when there are lives at risk. He keeps part of cloak over his face, finding the source of the cough, a nurse who’s curled into a ball on the ground. His hair is matted with blood, a purpling bruise forming on his head. Picking him up, Bruce carries him out carefully, using his cape to shield the weakened man. Beams of wood have collapsed over the main entrance, so he decides to go through a broken window. He places the man on the ground, running back in without another thought. This goes on, at one point Dick bursts through, hitting a wall in a painful manner. Bruce helps him up.

“Are you alright?”

Dick wipes blood from his mouth, his suit scratched. “Fine. Your friend is helping…I think. Though some of his jokes are just angering Firefly… How many more people are in here?”

“I’m guessing at least a couple, this building wasn’t very sturdy to begin with, I think they could easily be trapped.”

“Hurry up if you can, this building doesn’t have much longer.” As if to prove his point part of the second floor caves in, revealing a patient. Dick goes back out to face the villain while Bruce makes his way up, the patient lying on a frail ledge. His grappling hook won’t help, but as he rushes up the stairs he finds the door is locked. Bruce doesn’t have time, impatiently kicking the already warped door down.

The patient is in the room across the way, fallen spots of flooring proving a hazard. The floor seems to bend under Bruce’s weight as he makes his way over to the man. The patient’s eyes are barely open as he reaches towards Bruce, Bruce slinging him over his shoulder to jump down. His ears pick up on a quiet sobbing.

“Where are you?” he calls out. Sweat streams down his face, the heat almost unbearable. The sobbing pauses.

“Over here!” The voice says. Bruce makes his way over to where he hears her call, a nurse he remembers from past visits. There’s a long scratch on her arm, her expression serious and tear-stained. Her leg is pinned by a heavy beam, Bruce setting down the inmate to move the wood, the woman crying out in pain. Her leg is bruised, probably broken. Bruce picks her up, then the inmate. He has to crouch as debris keeps falling on him. New paths are formed by the wreck, fire proving to be a dangerous threat around the entrance. Praying his suit hasn’t taken too much damage he cloaks the three of them in his cape. He jumps over fallen parts of the ceiling, the exit a long way away. He leaps, trying to avoid the fire.

The flame licks at his feet, and it feels like an eon before his feet touch the ground outside, placing the people down on the ground near the other nurse.

Firefly has left a mess. It’s chaos in the area, people running, screaming, firefighters not yet here, nurses that did get out helping the injured. Dick has gotten rid of Firefly’s flame thrower, but the man still hovers, causing what trouble he can. He resorts to throwing flaming projectiles at the ground, Dick dodging as much as he can. There’s no sign of Joker anywhere. Bruce needs to stop this.

“Lynn!” He shouts up at the criminal. Firefly looks down, grinning viciously when he sees Bruce.

“You like my masterpiece Batman? I call it Flames over Arkham.”

“Get down here!”

“Not a chance! I like not getting caught and having my greatest work ruined.”

Bruce growls, taking out his grappling hook. He shoots it at Firefly, who avoids it the first time, gliding higher. Bruce is luckier the second time.

He drags Lynn down, punching at his jetpack and rendering it unusable, pulling out tubes to help keep him afloat. Lynn shout angrily, dive-bombing to the ground but quick to stand up. Bruce punches him once, twice, three times. Lynn collapses, eyes rolling back into his head, but the damage is done. The infirmary still goes on burning, Dick gone to help in what ways he can. By the time the fire department arrives the building will be nothing but ashes.

“Bats!” Bruce turns to see Joker, accompanied by… Victor Fries. Christ, Arkham needs to up its security. Bruce eyes the taller man, Mr. Freeze not intimidated in the slightest.

“Batman,” he says coolly, holding his cryothermal gun in front of him casually.

“Mr. Freeze,” Bruce says in much the same tone.

“If I do this I want you to let me go,” he gestures to the flames, Bruce can only assume he’ll freeze the building to stop the fire. Bruce has little choice in the matter, and as villains go he isn’t the worst to have escaped. He nods, and Freeze gives a tired little sigh. He starts up his gun, ice flowing from it till the infirmary is shining in freezing crystal. Surrounding buildings that had caught fire get thin layers of ice as well, until it looks more like winter than fall. “Done.” Fries doesn’t look back as he retreats, his figure fading into the shadow.

Joker steps onto one of the sheets of ice left on the ground, pushing along it like he’s skating. His balance is awful though, a few steps in and he’s fighting hard to keep it. Bruce tries not to laugh, but Joker seems to catch the smile he’s not fighting too hard to hide.

“This is harder than it looks, sweetheart. I’d like to see you try,” the clown challenges, giving up the fight and landing hard on the ice with a wince. Bruce offers to help him up, but he gets his hand pushed away. “I can get up myself, thank you,” Joker says primly, dusting himself off. He winks at Bruce.

“Batman!” Dick appears behind them. “Everyone here is safe, we should get going.”

“Batman?” Tim. Bruce pushes away his apprehensiveness, replying.

“What’s up, Robin?”

“No sign of any trouble. A few criminals, but other than that it’s been completely quiet. Do you want us anywhere else?”

Well, everywhere on Joker’s list has been searched, Penguin not giving up any information. Gordon hasn’t found anything or he would’ve heard by now, and Oracle has stayed mostly silent as well. Despite everything, they haven’t been able to solve this before the event. But Bruce realises that while this might be dangerous, it’d make sense to stop this at during the Gala. He can get it close as Bruce Wayne, with no one being any the wiser. He hates that it’s come to this, but as it stands it’s the last option. His mind is made up when he answers.

“No. Meet me at the Batcave, we have a plan to discuss.”

“Got it.”

“I’m guessing we’re not going to end this tonight,” Dick says, running a hand through his hair.

Bruce meets his gaze. “No, we’re not. But we’ll fix it. I promise.” There’s nothing he’d like more than to finally be done with this week, but improvisation is part of this job. The Batmobile has gotten its fair share of milage.

Gordon shows up before they leave, taking care of any loose ends. The look of mistrust and hatred he wears when he sees Joker is clear, but he can’t do anything about it if Bruce isn’t actively taking him in. Joker’s look is a little too sharp around the edges for this to be comfortable. Bruce steps between them in an indistinct manner, making sure the commissioner knows the goings-on before he goes.

Dick leans on the Batmobile, perplexion drawn on his face. “Can I talk to you, Batman?” He glances at Joker, then back at Bruce, and he knows Joker isn’t wanted in this conversation.

“Joker, can you wait by the Batmobile?”

“Sure, I was getting bored anyways,” the man feigns an enormous yawn, leaning on the sleek black car. When he looks back Bruce can see the curiosity in Joker’s eyes, a bright flicker that doesn’t quite fade out. Bruce moves away from the car with Dick, standing next to a relatively young tree, the branches only a couple feet higher than their heads.

Bruce fights the urge to fidget under Dick’s probing gaze. “What do you need?”

“Are you letting Joker into your plan?” Bruce exhales, having a hunch where this is leading.

“I don’t know yet, why?”

“Well, if you did you’d have to let him into the Batcave, right? Which you didn’t seem all that worried about when he was standing not two feet away from you when you told Tim.” Dick taps his foot on the ground. “He knows who you are, doesn’t he?” Just like that, it’s out. Bruce nods his head just the slightest bit. “How long?”

“A while,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” Dick breathes out, almost unsurprised. “He hasn’t said anything, at least. So,” he looks away, out at the now-ice sculpture that decorates the asylum, “now what I’m wondering is where all this trust you have for him suddenly came from. I’ve been watching you two, you know.” His voice is almost accusatory.

“Oh.” Bruce tries to look anywhere but at his former ward. He’d known if this conversation was going to happen it was going to be awkward. He hadn’t known just how awkward.

Dick narrows his eyes. “Bruce, when we were talking this morning…were you talking about Joker?”

Uncomfortable. That’s what this questioning is. It’s what he deserves, no way this would make sense to them, at the very least not right away. Bruce has no idea what to say, so he stays quiet while he waits for words to magically show up.

Dick frowns. “No, you’re not going all dark and broody on me. Answer the question.”

Bruce doesn’t exactly meet Dick’s eyes when he answers. “Yes, it was him.”

“Bruce.” Dick sighs. “Why?”

“I don’t know. He’s different around me.” He does know why, actually, but he won’t say the real reasons. The fact that he has a lame sense of humor, his intelligence, his brashness. The fact that he won’t give up on something he wants, even though they aren’t what the city needs or wants. His ingenuity, even when it ends up getting Gotham tied up in another mystery. All these things that people only ever see the dark side of. Granted, it’s one of the only sides he chooses to show to the general public, but Bruce knows there’s something there. It’s like Dick knows what he’s thinking, and the furrow on his brow shows his disagreement.

“After what he did to Jason and Babs?” Dick asks softly. Bruce closes his eyes. “How can you be sure he’s changed, that you can actually trust him?”

Guilt washes over him, but Bruce answers. “I can’t tell you that. I just…do. Trust me, please. You don’t have to like it. It sounds crazy, even to me. But I won’t let him hurt anyone if something happens.”

“How can you guarantee that?” Dick asks finally. His arms are crossed, looking right at Bruce.

Bruce frowns. He can’t, not as long as Joker is…himself, really. But… “I’ll figure something out, I promise.” He pauses before adding, “I’ll tell everyone once this whole thing is over.”

Dick watches a leaf fall from a tree, once vibrant red faded to orange. “I’ll keep your secret for now. But if that’s your plan, you can’t let him into the Batcave. Not if Jason’s coming.”

“I know.” Bruce hesitates, but points out, “You’re surprisingly calm about this.” Dick frowns thoughtfully, his hand reaching out to pat Bruce on the shoulder.

“I’ve had time to think over it. I thought I’d be more in shock, but actually, it’s always been like this, hasn’t it. You’re two sides of the same coin.” A corner of his mouth tilts up slightly into a strained smile. “I don’t exactly know what’s going on in your head, but I’m here for you if you need me. Though you might just need a psychiatrist.” His laugh is only half forced, Bruce’s smile a bit less than that. “But if anything goes wrong, tell me and I’ll kick his ass back to Arkham.”

“Agreed,” Bruce says, looking over at the Batmobile. Joker’s completely reclined, lying on the hood of the car, jiggling his foot lazily, no doubt humming to some tune stuck in his head. Dick shakes his head.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Bruce’s face feels warm. He walks ahead of Dick towards the car, clearing his throat so that Joker looks up at him.

“What’s up, Bats?”

“So you know I’m going over the plan later on in the Batcave.”

Joker nods. “Don’t worry, I won’t go. Much as I’d love to see it, I’m not up for your whole family ganging up on me.” He laughs softly. “Another time, maybe, when the odds are more even.”

Bruce presses his lips together before leaning in closer. “Nightwing knows,” he murmurs into the clown’s ear.

“Really?” Joker looks first at Dick, then around at the clearing field, his smile cat-like. “That’s good to hear.” He pushes himself up on his elbows, rushing forward and kissing Bruce, the latter slightly put off guard, eyes wide. Joker pulls back with a giggle. “I think your surprised kisses taste better than your regular ones. Though come to think of it, both of them have been surprised so far…”

Bruce pulls away, glad most of his cowl covers his blush. “Just because he knows doesn’t mean you can kiss me all the time.”

Joker just raises an eyebrow, smirking. “What did you think I was gonna do with that knowledge? Nod sagely and say, ‘well, there’s a relief’? I thought you knew me better than that.”

Bruce is ready to argue when Dick finally approaches them. He settles for shooting Joker a warning look instead. “So, are we good to go?” His eyes flicker over Joker, his look one of confusion and distrust.

“Where do you want me to drop you off?” Bruce asks Joker, who slides off the hood and places his hands on his hips.

“You know what? I feel like walking.”

“You’re miles away from Gotham,” Bruce reminds him. Joker shrugs.

“It’ll give me the exercise. Just tell me when you’re done sorting out your plan. Now you know the number works, right?” He adds coyly.

“Yeah,” Bruce says with a heavy sigh. Joker grins at Dick, who’s starting to look uncomfortable standing between both of them.

“I’ll see you later then, won’t I? How many buildings do you think I can break into in the span of a couple hours? I’m guessing at least ten, if I try,” He calls back as he saunters off, Dick not exactly a picture of happiness.

“You’d better hope he’s just joking.”

“I’m forty percent sure,” Bruce says, his smile laced with exasperation.

*

It’s an unfamiliar and almost comforting sight, seeing most of his family in the Batcave. Barbara is still the tower, though she’ll be listening. Alfred sits at the computer, Tim at his side pointing out the different streets they’d been on or around. Jason looks down at his phone a few feet away, breathing out a laugh. Bruce has a sneaking suspicion he’s looking at memes. Tim gets the same look on his face when he’s on his phone in the morning, showing Bruce whatever he finds funniest. To be honest, most of them fly right over Bruce’s head. He guesses it’s like an inside joke he isn’t exactly privy to. He looks up when Bruce walks in, stowing his phone in his pocket. His mask is off, showing off black hair and blue eyes like the rest of them.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred greets him. “You couldn’t stop them?”

“No, I couldn’t. They’ve hidden too well. Penguin made sure of that,” he says bitterly. “But that just made me realise if I’m at the gala, which I will be, I can take care of it there.”

“In a tux?” Jason asks. “Don’t you think that might be a little obvious?”

“There’ll be opportunities for distractions,” Dick says thoughtfully. “But Jason’s right. One of us should come with. Maybe Tim. It could be weird if Jason suddenly came back from the dead.”

“Could be?” Jason says with a laugh. Tim crosses his arms, fingers tapping at his arms.

“Maybe I could go, and Dick, you and Jason can be behind the scenes,” he suggests. He types something into the computer, pulling up the schematics of the observatory. “We looked around here earlier,” he says, pointing to the second and third floors of the observatory, “and I think we could pinpoint places they might show up if we try. The only thing is that place is going to be crowded.”

Dick points to the exit leading to control rooms. “They’ll most likely be there too, it’s away from the crowd and most people aren’t going to want to sneak in.”

“Right.” Bruce zooms in on the control room.

“Guys? You might want to check below ground too, below the observatory.” Barbara chimes in, her face appearing on one of the screens. The screen moves to the basement, where Bruce can see many areas that could possibly store explosives and whatever else they kept away from him.

“Sir, if I may. They’ll probably assume you’re going to try, Batman never gives up, after all.” Alfred states, “What if it’s not what you expect?” Bruce pauses, still looking at the screen. “I can’t afford to think like that when so many people are endangered. Whatever happens, we’ll be ready for it. Gordon will be there too, this is a top priority at this point.” The glow of the computer screen strains a bit at Bruce’s eyes, but he’s too focused trying to map the place out in his head. Whatever helps, he needs to try it.

“I can help too,” Barbara mentions. “Electrical distractions, blackouts, wi-fi shutdowns, whatever you need.” Bruce smiles. This plan is starting to come together nicely.

“What about the clown?” Jason drawls out casually, his tenseness contradicting his tone.

“What about him?” Tim says. “Is he still helping?” They all look to Bruce, who feels like a deer caught in the headlights. Dick and Alfred look sympathetic, but still just as interested as Tim and Jason. He knows he’ll tell Joker about the plan, he’s helped so far, but whether or not the man wants to continue is up to him.

“I don’t know yet,” Bruce says. “I’ll tell you if he is though.”

Jason sighs, but he doesn’t say anything else. He looks like he’d love to, but Dick nudges him, muttering something into his ear, and he turns away. Alfred meets Bruce’s eyes, the butler’s gaze mournful. Soon, he thinks. Soon there won’t be secrets. He’s kept too many, now they feel like one more and they’ll overflow.

“You said they aren’t working together, right?” Dick chews on his lip, deep in thought. “I thought it started up as a Penguin/Two-Face team-up.”

Bruce sits at the computer. “That’s what I thought too. Except someone broke them out first. And slowly more villains started to get out to wreak havoc. It’s too chaotic, and frankly it isn’t Penguin’s style, even though he’s been taking most of the credit for it.” He pulls up the pictures of all the villains from this past week, trying to figure out what’s really going on. Maybe they hadn’t been acting separately at first, initially agreeing with spreading out what supplies they had, but each had their own agenda to act out. And suddenly it became about what they wanted instead. Bane was always one to branch out with his own vendetta, Scarecrow only interested in fear. Penguin would’ve taken advantage of that, of course, but it’s still not like him to attack in this manner. Which begs the question: who’s actually in charge?

“What about Ra’s al Ghul?” Alfred says, looking at the screen. “We haven’t heard from him in quite a long time.”

Bruce shakes his head. “This isn’t his style either. He would’ve sent some sort of message, or Talia would have told me.” He hasn’t heard from Ra’s daughter either, though she has been out of town for training. At least, that’s what he thinks she’s been doing. She’s very secretive when she wants to be.

“I don’t think she would have,” Oracle chimes in, “but I agree. This isn’t like Ra’s. If anything it’s like Joker’s brand of chaos.”

“It’s not him,” Bruce says automatically. He realises what the whole point of this was to begin with. “Getting rid of Gotham’s wealthiest? It sounds like Harvey.” He holds up a hand to still Dick and Tim, mouths already forming words. “I know, it sounds crazy, now that I caught him, but Penguin was confident it would still go through. Why would he be so sure unless Harvey was still in control?”

“Bruce, he was the first one you caught. It would’ve been over by then, he’d have no control over his henchmen,” Tim protests. Bruce nods.