#ttoj

[Epilogue]

The tips of the towers glinted pink with the last streaks of sunlight as Bruce glided down to the roof of the Gotham City Police Department. The Batsignal was barely seen among them, murky in the unusually cloudless sky.

Bruce landed gracefully at the back of the building, eyes peeled for anyone other than Commissioner Gordon. As usual, there had been no one else there – but the day he stopped looking would be the day someone ambushed him.

Smoke rose above Gordon’s shoulder. Bruce could hardly blame him for smoking right now. The last three days had been jam-packed with news relating to the Owls and Black Mask finally being in custody. Rumor had it that half the police force were rotating interrogations in shifts just to get everyone’s story straight.

“I got here as fast as I could,” Bruce said in Batman’s gruff, altered voice through the cowl.

Jim Gordon flinched, and as he turned around Bruce noticed the coffee cup in his hand, still steaming with a splash of it dropping down to the pavement. He left the light on, still pointing out into the sky. “It would be much easier if I could just call you on the phone, you know. They make some nice burners these days. Lab boys have a hell of a time with tracing ‘em.”

Bruce wasn’t sure if that was an insinuation or just chatter. Besides, it was untrue – both he and Robin could ping them as long as they had a power source. “As long as that light works, I’d prefer it.”

“I figured.” Jim looked exhausted. He took a sip of coffee, seemingly not caring about how hot it was. “I would’ve flagged you down sooner, but I’ve been up to my neck in interrogations, paperwork, endless calls – the press are practically having a festival. They have enough material to fill every news hour for the month by the time we get any rest.”

“I’ve noticed.” It was inescapable both at home and at work, where every scrap was the talk of the water-cooler and every segment filled up one of the Batcave’s enormous monitors. Bruce had at least fifteen voicemails from reporters eager to talk to him just today, all wanting to know his thoughts on John’s would-be-assassins being taken into custody as part of a ‘anti-criminal society’, as one had put it. Like the word ‘cult’ was too low-brow for their taste.

Jim eyed his coffee cup, as if something was off with the taste. “You see that guessing game they have now, about Joker?”

Bruce resisted the urge to snort derisively. He had. As soon as the first Owl had said Joker was there, they all sounded off, trying to get John arrested for vigilantism if not aggravated assault. “I haven’t had the time to look,” he chose to say instead.

“It’s not worth it,” Jim took another sip of coffee, looking over the city. “They can say what they will about this department, but I make damn sure everyone goes over everything with a fine-tooth comb. Especially where Wayne’s friends are concerned. One slip-up and his lawyers will tear the shirts off our backs.” He took another sip with a disgruntled sigh. “Not that it matters. In three days we haven’t got a shred of evidence John Doe was ever at that church. Or at Arkham – not that it stops that would-be-bomber from claiming as much. I’ve got the phone records that prove otherwise.”

Bruce made a mental note to thank Iman and Alfred for working so quickly on the record changes. “First I’ve heard of it,” he lied, having looked through the police interview records the second he could.

“Good. We’ve been keeping that guy’s details as minimal as possible,” Jim explained confidently, “He’s still in the hospital. His doctor’s in talk with Arkham about getting him transferred there when he’s able to move, but for all his delusions about God and having imprisoned John Doe and some mysterious woman we can’t find a trace of, they’re reluctant to take him. He’s a real danger to their patients.” Jim took another sip of coffee. “And Gotham Memorial’s staff. He’s thought three different people were ‘John Doe’ and lashed out each time. He managed to stab a nurse before they strapped him down to stop him escaping.” He gave a small, self-indulgent sort of chortle. “That nurse – I made sure to talk to her on my way out, and she just said ‘this isn’t the worst I’ve had’. Didn’t elaborate. What a trooper.”

“That Talon ever give himself a name?” Bruce asked.

“Adam. That’s all we know right now. He’s not in the criminal databases, in any case.” Jim took a small sip. “Funny - our sketch artist worked around the clock, and not one of those owl-people could tell me what ‘Joker’ looked like underneath that grinning bandana he apparently wore.” Jim looked over at Bruce, tired gaze trying to pierce through the cowl. “No credible witnesses, no physical traces, no tower pings that come close to either location – and yet at the back of my head something is stilltelling me John Doe was still playing ‘Joker’. Now why do you think that is?”

He must have been tired. He was trying to corner Bruce very bluntly, like they were playing a game of chicken but without knowing they were on a wide freeway rather than a two-lane road. “Because even a wrong answer is better than none,” he answered, staring at him dead-on.

The commissioner stared back for a second, then two, and then shifted back towards the city, annoyed at the obvious possibility. “Another new partner, eh? You got a Rolodex of them or something?”

“I should be so lucky.”

“Hmph. I’m guessing the ‘Joker’ persona is to throw people off? Or is that just a personal taste of yours?”

Bruce bristled internally, feeling the jolt of it in his stomach. He could practically hear John cackling up a storm at that implication.

“Don’t answer that,” Jim hurriedly waved off with a wince, “I don’t want to know. No offense.”

“None taken,” Bruce managed through almost-gritted teeth. He had to get back onto track with what he wanted to know. “How many Owls were brought in, in the end?”

“Right now, the total’s up to three-hundred and thirty-six charged with conspiracy to murder at the least. Some are being a pain in the ass, threatening to sue for interfering in religious ceremonies or some crap.” He took a long sip as if it were a drag of a cigarette. “Roman Sionis is sitting pretty, being the victim and all – I tell ya, if it weren’t for the stuff you put on my desk and the files we found at the church, I wouldn’t be able to make a charge stick to him any more than water. Helps that one of those kooks was mixed up with Black Mask. Had the False-Face tattoo and everything.” His mustache twitched into an amused smile. “That one’s still held up in a hospital for observation, but his girlfriend actually came down to the station to hand us some of his stuff after she saw the news – the guy used makeup to have a couple of personas for the False-Face Society. It was like something out of Sherlock Holmes.”

Heh.The Man with the Twisted Lip, perhaps? “So she had no knowledge of it?” he asked, playing innocent.

“I would’ve thought you’d known.” Jim needled. “She had some part in what she thought was a prank – one of the Owls used it as an alibi for the night of The Lot murders. We’re not holding her, but she’ll have to go to court to tell her side of things eventually. Team’s searching her hotel room tomorrow, so I guess we’ll see what we find. The turn-coat has some damning evidence against him, including Roman’s statements. And it feels like we keep finding more on the lot of them every minute.”

Bruce didn’t doubt it. He’d kept low over the last couple of days and resisted the urge to pry into some of the Court members’ houses to sate his curiosity. Still, three-hundred and thirty-six was too low a number for how many people he’d seen down in the makeshift-courtroom of the Court’s church. “Were any Owls released?”

“Some of them made bail, believe it or not. We can’t afford to keep eyes on them, with everything else going on – every precinct is assigned something in this mess.” Jim set his coffee cup down with a note of finality. “I know it sounds like I’m griping, but I want to thank you,” he said earnestly, standing tall. “I hate to imagine what would’ve happened if you hadn’t alerted us when you did.”

Bruce didn’t need to hear any more. The thanks was nice, but he didn’t need it; he would’ve done it even if “So would I.” He swept around, grapple out and primed. “I’ll let you know if I find any of the stragglers. Go get some rest.”

The air whipped at his face as he zipped up to a higher building and raced across the roof, heart pumping steadily as he made his way back to the Batmobile parked several streets away. His grappling hook made it easy to zip-line down to the alley, and the car practically sprang to life as he pulled open the door.

“Hiya, tootsie-pop,” John teased with a wide, red-lipped smile from the passenger seat, “How’d it go?”

“Just fine,” Bruce replied, not bothering to turn the cowl off as he slid behind the wheel. “It’s as we thought: they don’t have anything on you yet. But it doesn’t mean we should let down our guard - I expect one of Gordon’s people will be coming by the house to talk to you soon.”

“You worry too much,” John soothed, putting the bundle of paper he’d had propped on his raised thigh down on his now flat lap. “We both knew that was coming a mile away.”

“I think I worry the right amount, where you’re concerned,” he shot back, buckling himself back in.

John’s gloved fingers tucked under Bruce’s chin, smoothing over his cheek as Bruce turned towards him automatically. “I like it when you’re protective,” he purred, closing the gap between them with a kiss that made Bruce’s hands soften on the wheel. “But don’t push it,” he added, a light rumble coming through his voice as he settled back in his seat to buckle himself in.

Bruce glanced down at the folded Gotham Gazette in his lap, spying at least twenty counts of ‘John Napier’ written in pen with varying states of flourish. “What’s that?”

“Oh, this? I’ve just been doing some thinking… I don’t really feel like ‘John Doe’ anymore,” he said, tapping the pad of paper with his thumbs and not looking at Bruce. “I still like being ‘John’ – I just think I’m past the ‘Doe’ part, you know?” He looked to Bruce, acid-green eyes full of hope for approval. “I feel like someone, now.”

Bruce looked at him, sitting there in the passenger seat in his purple leather coat, with a bandana with his signature red-lipped grin hanging from his neck. He was no longer the Joker of last year, or even the one nine months ago, but he was unmistakably him, as completely unforgettable as John Doe was. He had never felt like a nobody to Bruce, even when he didn’t know himself, but Bruce knew what he meant. The ‘nameless Arkham patient’-John had been outgrown.

“I guess I’ll have to practice calling you ‘Mr. Napier’ at home,” he said in Batman’s gravelly voice as he turned on the ignition. John’s face lit up, eyes sparkling in the glow of the dashboard. “It’s a good thing the press doesn’t know about your non de plume at the gala, or the Moonrisewould be pounding down my door for wrongful litigation.”

“Ha ha ha! I can see the headline now – Moonrise Apology Revoked! Hot Wayne/Doe Ballroom Dancing Action!”

John stooped forward into a laugh that Bruce couldn’t help but join for a couple of beats, forgetting about the distorted voice in his cowl. He cleared his throat as John’s laugh dissolved and Tiffany’s voice came through the on-board computer console, now depicting a map of Gotham with both her motorcycle and the car as colorful dots: “Head’s up, Batman – someone tripped our camera sensor at the Owls’ fraternity-base. You and J’ still at the G.C.P.D?”

Bruce switched the microphone in his cowl back on. “Could be our stragglers. We’ll meet you there in ten.”

“Good – I’m eight minutes away and I’d hate to start flushing them out without you.”

The connection was cut off, now just showing the map, with Tiffany already heading south for the fraternity.

Bruce stared at the moving dot for a moment, and glanced over at John as he shifted the car into drive. They’d been through a lot. It’d only been a few days since John forcibly woke up at Arkham while Tiffany and Bruce worked their way out of the Court’s clutches. They’d both fought alongside him at the Church of Mercy, tired beyond compare afterwards. Yet here they were, raring to go, like Bruce.

“Think we can beat her to the punch?” John asked excitedly.

Bruce smirked. The bike was fast, but his car was faster, even with the bulkier shape. “Only one way to find out.”

The Batmobile pulled out into the streets of Gotham and tore down the asphalt, disappearing into the dying streaks of sunlight with a flash of black and an unnerving cackle.

† † † † †

Notes: And so here we are again, dear friends. At the end of another journey. It was a long and difficult one this time, but I’m pretty darn satisfied with how it turned out. Our boy John is out of Arkham with friends who care about him, Bruce can now depend on others and has a new family of vigilantes who love him, Tiffany is fully recognized as both part of the team and her own person… All the goals for this story are checked off my list, and this baby clocks in just under 185k. I almost can’t believe it, myself. I’ve finished my second multi-chapter story!

Hah, even writing that doesn’t really feel very real. Maybe because this one took 2+ years to finish? Or maybe because it cooked in my brain for a little longer than that. I tell ya, I had a ball getting to write John’s character growth among the weird layered meta this story has. The villains were fun, too - taking bare bones and crafting a whole new persona out of it is by no means a quick process, but I do like the end results, even if I can see some of the ‘lumps’ in the shapes. More and more, I can see why some people dream of being able to work on the official Batman stories. There really is something special about these ridiculous characters and this world that make your brain whirl away at the possibilities. I went whole-hog with this story, not holding anything back when it came to what I wanted to make – I hope it turned out as good for me as it was for you. ♡

But just because I’m saying goodbye to TToJ, I’m not saying goodbye for long to Bats! We’ll see him and J-man again soon! I’m still sorting through what I really want out of Season 5, so our next story will be a multi-chapter interlude centered around our two favorite guys here adjusting to living together. Think of it like Season 4 ½. Why is it not S5? Because it doesn’t have a mystery or big plot like either this here story or AtBoM. It’s a thing that’s been rattling around in my brain since the chapter 9 was in the works, tempting me with its alluring supposed ease of writing nothing but smut with fun prompts… But of course, I’ve since complicated matters by adding character building ideas that can stretch the whole way through and not just in choice chapters like I originally thought. Who knows, I might throw in a smidge of plot by the time I work it all out! ꉂ (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)

[Chapter 12: Ten Cheers to the World]

John could hear the wheels on the short-back office chair rolling over the raised bumps in the metal floor as he pushed it back and forth with a clunk-clack, clunk-clack, half-spinning in the seat with every move. It was better to sit there with his head on his arms thrown over the back of the chair and look over the whole cave – keeping his eyes peeled for movement by the entrance to the bathroom around the corner of the workbenches – than to sit still while his mind churned and chewed on everything.

“Watching the door won’t make him come out any quicker, you know,” Alfred said from behind.

John ignored him. And the tight feeling in his stomach that pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“He once stayed in the shower there for forty-three minutes. Then he had the audacity to tell me he’d just been meditating.”

John tried to ignore that, but his traitor of a brain was pushing the image of Bruce sitting cross-legged on the tile floor under the spray like it was a waterfall in an old movie, with a serious hurm of an expression. It was a little funny…

“I know he was just dwelling. He used to do it at the computer, on seats – and in front of his homework, back when he was younger. He won’t do it in front of people anymore, of course. Raises too many questions he doesn’t want to answer.”

Alfred had changed into pajamas and a fancy-looking robe, yet he still stood as straight and proper as all the other times John had seen him. He didn’t hold anything or seem to be milling around the cave for any real reason. At least one John could see.

John didn’t know why he was being talked to so…normally. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t sweep everything Alfred had said under the rug. It just dug the knife a little deeper into his stomach. He couldn’t stand looking at him for more than the glance. It was why he wasn’t spinning anymore and just inching the chair back and forth.

“Not that I blame him, really. I’ve always been more proficient in handling physical wounds than mental. It’s easier to mend a hole in the chest versus a broken heart, as they say…” A beat of silence; John could hear the clunk-clack of his chair a little too loudly. “Miss Avesta filled me in on the goings-on at Arkham and the Church of Mercy this evening – are you quite sure you’re alright?” Alfred asked him, “You might have skipped out on the inspection, but I can see some of those bruises a mile away.”

John felt a laugh bubble in his throat, thinking of Bruce’s hand around his throat, gripping his wrist, punching his shoulder… But looking at both arms buried under his face, he could see others had formed sometime in-between. Oh-h-h. Those. The question instantly became less ha-ha funny and more ironically funny. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said with a bitter chuckle, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve changed or anything - I’m too crazy to give straight answers, remember?”

Alfred was silent for a moment. John dared to peek – he seemed…regretful, maybe, as he stared at some fixed point down in the cave. Alfred breathed out slowly, and audibly, the way Bruce did sometimes when something had become too much of whatever it was. “I deserve that,” he said finally, allowing a beat of silence to follow. “I was surprised with you this evening,” he continued, “After everything that’s happened this week, The Joker carry a former Agent inside to get her proper medical treatment after escaping a kidnapping and thwarting a bomb-threat at Arkham Asylum was the last thing I expected to see during my visit. You rushing out to help Batman afterwards was one thing, but you working alongside Robin, even after the things we said...”

It seemed too awkward to finish that sentence. He seemed to be searching for the right words. “You saved both of them from a seat on my operating table tonight,” he continued instead, with real gratitude lacing his voice.

John wasn’t entirely sure where this was going. Or really, why he was laying all this out at all. The dry dancing-around-the-point thing was doing nothing for him. If anything, it was wiggling the proverbial knife in him.

“I suppose what I’ve been trying to drive at is that I misjudged you,” he added, meeting John’s probing gaze with softer eyes. “You proved that tonight. I let old memories and foolish prejudice cloud my judgement. I know I can’t undo the damage I’ve done, but… I hope you can accept my apology.”

John stared, almost wondering if he’d fallen asleep in the chair sometime after deciding to wait for Bruce. His fingers tapped on the edge of the chair – real, real, real, like everything else before then.

The tight anger in his stomach had loosened its knots into a confusing not-really-calm feeling. He wasn’t sure if he could accept the apology, let alone if he should. He might not be mad now, but he knew his brain well enough to know that the creeping thoughts of ‘he actually hates you’ and ‘he thinks you’re crazy’ were bound to come up again and reignite his rage and feelings of alienation with the memory of standing outside the Wayne Manor living room. He might never be able to go near there without thinking about it, either.

And despite how sincere Alfred seemed, who was to say it wasn’t all one big lie in an effort to get back on good footing with Bruce? Or was that just the paranoia talking already?

John breathed out slowly, hearing his lips sputter together as he let his head rest back in his arms to stare down at the dark back of the chair. He knew he shouldn’t listen to that part of him. The shreds of anger at being rejected were still there in his stomach, but what good would mending them back together at this point do? Break two people’s hearts in one go? Leave Bruce to choose between his practically-adoptive-Dad and him?

As nice as it would be to get a bit of justice for himself and reject in kind, John knew what he wanted… The same as the old John and probably the future John. And he knew what he wanted wasn’t always good for him, as the doctors would say. But the siren call of inclusion always ensnared him. It was hard to find people he actively liked, and a hundred times harder to find people he could truly relate to. And both he and Alfred loved Bruce, the one person John liked and related to the most…

John sat back up. “Fine,” he said, “But just because I accept it doesn’t mean I forgive you yet.”

Alfred’s shoulders seemed to droop, finally. “That’s understandable,” he replied, seeming like that was actually enough. “I don’t mind having to work for that.”

John rolled backward in the chair. “I might forgive you quicker if you teach me some tricks of the trade,” he added slyly, rolling the chair forward again, “I mean, skin can’t be too different from fabric, but I’d hate to be the only person who can stitch up Bruce one night without a little practice.”

Alfred blinked, genuinely surprised. “You want to learn sutures?”

“Yeah! I already know aaall about injections. And most painkillers. But Bruce told me he had to stitch himself up before while you were away, and I know Tiffany’s learned it. So I want in,” he finished, rolling the chair back and forth again.

He seemed to think it over. John couldn’t tell what was going on inside of his old head, but it looked promising. “I believe I can find some pig-skin for us to work with while I’m staying,” he said, the emotion in his voice indecipherable. “Have you eaten anything yet?”

John wasn’t going to say anything about the snacks he’d pilfered from the kitchen on his way up to get changed. “Uh, not really.”

“I’ll bring down another plate of leftovers, then; the ladies seem to have finished the one already.” He was about to move away, and suddenly got a harder look on his face like he remembered something somewhat unpleasant. “And John – do make sure Master Bruce eats some of it,” he said with all the sternness of a parent John never had, “He has a terrible habit of starving himself when he overthinks. I don’t want him passing out halfway up the stairs.”

John felt something stop his chair from moving – Iman had quietly hobbled her way over and used his shoulder to lean on with one hand. “No worries – I gotcha,” John replied with a click of his fingers and a wink, “And you,” he added to Iman craning his neck back to look at her, “You could’ve just said something, y’know. I would’ve wheeled over.”

Iman had a funny look on her face. “I’ve been sitting for too long anyway,” she waved away all friendly-like, still leaning against his chair like she was hovering over it for a reason. It wasn’t until Alfred had passed her that he realized she even looked over at the other man – her brown eyes stared at the retreating back like she was examining it under a scope.

The look didn’t last long. She shifted to prop herself up against the railing instead, opposite of where Alfred had been, holding a cane borrowed from who-knew-where. She had changed into a Gotham Knights t-shirt and very soft and loose fuzzy black pants, and unlike him, she had no problem walking around barefoot on the cold floor. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“You mean physically, psychologically, or…?” It hit him why Iman had been hovering by him out of nowhere. He looked over at Alfred at the end of the cave, making his way to the elevator. Ahh-ha. “Ohh! You meant with Al’,” he added in a hush. “That’s why you came over, huh?”

“I would’ve been over here sooner if I hadn’t had to hobble,” she explained with a note of annoyance, “I figured the reason you rushed to get away when you all came back was so you wouldn’t be caught up in an awkward conversation.”

“Hah, you aren’t the psych’ expert for nothing,” John smiled, pushing the chair back and forth slowly again, “But I’m okay. Al’ and I cleared things up a bit. How are you? Catching Roman put a spring back in your step?”

Iman’s razor-thin show of white teeth seemed to gleam with the same amusement in her eyes. “At least in one of them,” she joked back.

“Good – it certainly did for me. I just wish I could’ve seen that punch up close! And I only caught a bit of the pounding he gave Hooty McShooty, too...”

Iman snorted into a short laugh. “W-who?”

“That was probably his last word, too,” John joked with a grin. “You know, the white-faced owl with the big gun! I don’t know his ‘real’ name. I don’t care, either – anyone who tries to kill me and my friends doesn’t deserve a birth certificate.”

“Hm, well,” she said, “I don’t have the barn owl’s real name, either. But you know, we did catch some footage from the drones. So Bruce’s fight might be on there.”

John screeched his chair to a halt and stood, swiveling the seat towards her. “Well what are we waiting for?! Let’s go look!”

“I think the batteries are still-”

“Less talk, more looking,” he emphasized, patting the chair back to get her to sit. She gave in with a wary sort of look, and as soon as she was down, he whirled her around and wheeled her towards the oversized computer, feeling giddy about the very idea that he would get to see Batman beat up the owls as many times as he wanted. Maybe he’d even see his and Bruce’s team-up! Eehee hee hee hee!

The display still had a myriad of things thrown up. The little map of Gotham with all the Court of Owls’ old hiding places, the FriendBook page of The Church of Written Mercy, background information on the Reverend Sebastian Overfield, the cloud storage Jackie had given him with all of Matt Chaney’s incriminating pictures, some screenshots of the crowd of Owls showing a few of them without their masks...

And the disappointing notification that large file transfers from one of the drones was still in progress, with its uploading screen still at sixty-something percent.

“Shouldn’t there be a streaming option or something?” he asked, the words barely out of his mouth as Iman dutifully pulled up the other two drones’ interfaces.

“Doesn’t look like it. The Batcomputer might be fast, but those drone’s video feeds turn out huge files. It’s never that fast.”

“Boooo,” John groaned, “Now I’m all hyped up for nothing,” he pouted, perching his bruised elbow on the back of the chair as he took in the collage of information. He knew all of it – or at least the pieces that mattered – but in Bruce’s absence it would at least pass time to poke through. But his eye caught something:  facial recognition software was pulled up, half-hidden by other windows. “Ooh, what’s that?”

“It’s nothing,” Iman answered casually. “It just checked some of the live feed against social media databases we had access to.”

“Ooh, fancy! Let’s look,” he said, reaching for the mouse.

Iman’s hand got in the way. “It’s not really interesting.”

Dismissing it and yet clearly obstructing it. John knew that was code for ‘I don’t want you to see this’. Which meant it was important and secret, and therefore very interesting. He wasn’t so much upset as he was intrigued, and it was easier to get information like that out with sweet-talk. “I-maaan,” he sang quietly, “what are you hiding?” He rested his chin in his hand, propped up against the back of the chair. “You can tell me. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“It’s…not something you need to see right now.”

“That means it’s the perfect time. I’m not doing anything else but waiting around.”

“No, I…” She sighed, and turned in the chair, forcing him to stand up straight again as she looked him in the eye. “I meant you might not want to see it now. I was waiting until I had something more concrete to show you, and after everything today… I just don’t want to upset you.”

“Upset me?” he said heatedly, “After everything I’ve been through in the past few days, you think I can’t handle a little breaking news?”

“John,” she started seriously, “what I found could trigger your memory. It’s no guarantee, but if it does, it might be overwhelming. You’ve been through a lot, and you’ve handled it reasonably well,” Iman added encouragingly, “but we both know how exhausting it all was. I’m almost ready to collapse, and I know you’re more tired than you want to be right now. At the very least you should get some sleep before riding an emotional rollercoaster.”

The warmth that had flared on the sides of his head was shifting. He shuffled, trying not to appear as embarrassed as he felt at being called out. “So… What is it, exactly?”

“Potentially, a picture of you,” Iman explained, “It’s not directly of you – ‘you’ are more in the background, but it’s what facial recognition turned up when I tried to match your face with any photos from social media databases we have. I couldn’t find a direct match in any other system I tried, with the exception of the criminal database. And Arkham,” she finished with a nod.

An odd thing to suddenly look for. He couldn’t help but ask himself why. It made sense to say it aloud, but it was smarter to ask a direct question rather than something too broadly answered. “Why would you try to do that?”

“Aren’t you curious about yourself?” she dodged, staring him down with a slight tilt of her head, “You told me before that Arkham hadn’t pulled up anything on you, but I know some of their paper records were destroyed in an accident three years after your admittance. And there’s the events around the time of your admittance nine years ago,” she said, sounding far more curious about it than he had in ages, “An accident at Ace Chemicals, an unrecoverable data loss at the Agency, the string of deaths in the Valestra mafia over the tri-city area – and there was an unusually high number of crimes in both Gotham and Bludhaven the week you were brought to Arkham from the harbor. The G.C.P.D. might not have found anything linking a missing person to any of those events at the time, but it can’t be a complete coincidence.”

It was easy to see how invested she’d gotten. “You put a loooot of thought into this, huh?”

“Don’t you want to know who you were?”

He took the captain’s chair and tapped his feet on the floor, thinking about what to say as he leaned his head back into his hand. Maybe it was his meds, or maybe it was Bruce’s essence seeping into his skin from the chair, but he found he wasn’t really mad at her for looking where he’d never asked. He didn’t care about whether or not it was really for his sake or just her own curiosity, but she’d given herself away enough to emphasize that there was a line that needed drawing. “I used to,” he emphasized, “What name I went by, what I did, any family I had; stuff like that use d to keep me up at night, get me through the long days… But who I am now is a better question! And that’s never a solid answer, either,” he ribbed, smiling over at her with a chuckle. “I’m surprised at you, Iman - didn’t you ask yourself why it took three years for someone to get match-happy near my file?”

She stared back, shifting slightly between his eyes. She didn’t lose the curious look on her tan face. “So that was you…”

“Not that it matters,” he countered, pleased that she’d understood, “You’re a sneaky snooper – I’d wondered why you asked me about the day I woke up during your last visit! Here I just thought you were making friendly, topical conversation. Were those marshmallow Peeps a subliminal bribe, too?”

Ah. There was the guilt seeping in. “A little.”

“Et tu, Peeps?!” he feigned clutching his chest in betrayal, unable to stop from giggling afterward.

“I’m sorry, John,” Iman said, looking very much like she meant it, “I’d thought you’d want to know as much as I did,” she said slowly, not quite looking at him. “But I did want you to have visitors apart from Bruce,” Iman added, meeting his gaze again, “I would’ve gone anyway.”

He knew there was no way that wasn’t true. “I know,” he said, smiling wider, “You’re nice like that.”

She flashed a smile, but the gears were clearly still turning in her head. “John, if you don’t mind me asking… Why did you stop being curious?”

John was slightly surprised. He was sure she was going to ask about what was in his old file that was missing from the new one. He tapped his heel, remembering the isolation of Arkham. The three years of hoping for anyone to really explain anything, to see him, to know him. The bitter understanding of the truth. The hilarity of the reality.

“Because things like ‘who I was’ and ‘who knew me’ doesn’t really matter,” he answered after a beat, “No one cares about whoever-I-was. If they did, they’ve forgotten. And that’s really for the better,” he shrugged, “Not knowing is fun – it’s multiple-choice! Maybe I was someone in the wrong place at the wrong time; or someone at the right place at the wrong time. Maybe I was some experiment gone wrong. Maybe I was even an Agent, like you,” he teased with a wider grin and a chuckle that wouldn’t stay down, “Wouldn’t that be a laugh and a half!”

She seemed to get it. Her eyes drifted down to her hands, guilt still softening her face. Anyway, she didn’t look confused or disturbed, or anything that rang the alarm bell in John’s head saying he said the wrong thing. “Do you want me to delete everything?” she asked, looking back at him sincerely, “It’s not much, but if you don’t want the information anyway…”

He leaned back in the chair, feeling more at ease now that the line had been scribbled down. He’d let her do what she liked, as long as she kept him out of it. And Bruce, but he was sure Bruce had already pulled out all the stops and come up with nothing, anyway. “Hey, just because I don’t care to know doesn’t mean I’ll stop you from solving a dead-end mystery,” he teased, “Though I do want to know what your fancy software pulled up…”

“You still want to see that?”

“I said I wasn’t curious about who I was, I never said I didn’t want to see the picture you found. Besides, if nine years of therapy and doctors cramming their memory exercises down my hippocampus hasn’t brought anything back, I doubt a little picture will.”

“Well…if you’re sure.”

The software had dozens of pictures saved in the file, but the one Iman brought up – just big enough to see, not take up the full screen – was of people clearly having what looked like a Great Gatsby themed party on what looked like the deck of a ship of some kind. At first, John focused on the people in front:  a group of young twenty-somethings he didn’t recognize in the slightest, most of them sporting a glass or bottle of alcohol in hand, the quality of the image being the best indicator that the cell phone used for it was at least ten years old. But he spotted what the software, and Iman, must have noticed behind the group, clearly just walking by with a cigarette in hand – another young man in his early twenties sporting a cheap suit, seeming out of place against the others, half his long face in view enough to show one green eye and a few locks of dark brown hair.

“Wow, that’s…nothing,” John blinked, surprised at himself. “I got more feeling looking in the mirror with peach-tone makeup on.”

“Really? I can see why it pulled this one,” Iman said, looking between him and the picture on screen, “I’m pretty sure that guy has your nose.”

“Pfft, barely,” John rolled his eyes. “He certainly doesn’t have my fashion sense,” he gloated, thumbing his purple t-shirt.

Iman smiled, finally, glancing down at the zig-zags of blue and orange of his pajama pants. “You’ve got me there.”

“It’s a pretty bad picture, too,” John continued, “The lighting’s terrible, the angle is off… And those two -” he pointed towards the two flappers with their arms around each other’s shoulders – “are definitely faking it.”

She gave a light hah. “They certainly are. The left one’s too strained and stiff all over, and the other’s smile doesn’t reach their eyes.”

John thought to himself for a moment. He’d missed an opportunity to take a picture during their team-up at the theater, since the car was too dangerous while it was moving, and the jumpsuits didn’t flatter either of them. And she was the only one he didn’t have a picture of on his phone somewhere. “I bet we could do better,” John grinned, pulling out his phone.

Iman smiled, rolling the chair a little closer to him. “You’re on.” Her arm wrapped around his shoulder, and he mimicked the action.

“This good?”

“Maybe a little more to the left… John, it’s not a selfie if you’re not in it.”

“You said left,” he teased, moving it back, “Say... Um, how do you say ‘cheese’ in Farsi?”

“Panir.”

“Say ‘pah-nehr’!” Snap. “Ooh, that’s good! The monitor light really makes us glow.”

A text popped over the image, from Devi:  Hey r u ok???...

Then another, this time a text from Jackie:  Photobooth app…

“You’re popular today,” Iman nudged, “Don’t mind me, I’m going to clean some of this stuff up. Do you mind if I keep the chair? It’s easier to move around in.”

John stood. “Nah, go ahead,” he waved, selecting Devi’s text first, “I’m going to go wait for Bruce to come back out. He can’t stay in there all night.”

Hey r u ok??? Mick said he called u w info earlier and he thinks u told the bat and ofc theres probs @ Arkham. Bat sighting by Chauncey 2.

Hes pretty worried. I mean he wont SAY he is but he IS.

I m 2 after hearing about the Black Mask bust up @ Waynes!!! We didnt know until after group! Stupid phone wifi cant load news for shit :(

“Didn’t really have the time, did I?” he muttered to himself, leaning one hand against the railing to stretch himself out.

But he wasn’t going to leave her on read. Knowing Devi and Mickey cared enough to worry over him made him feel that warm, fuzzy sense of appreciation again.

Yeah I’m ok, sorry for the radio silence!!! A lot happened :o) Still kinda processing some of it, he typed, not wanting to go into too much detail. Upper floor break room always has the news on first thing at 6 if you need to eavesdrop. Dr. W still gets papers, usually tosses them at 11. ;)  Oh and the Bat says thanks to Mickey btw.

Damnnn J something real went down huh???

John laughed to himself at her choice of phrase. It was real. There was no doubt left in his mind.

I’ll tell you more when I see you guys. I have remote therapy but I still have work on Tuesday as far as I know so we can talk then! ;D

Aw :( 2 much 2 text? My phones safe u kno.

Trust me, it’s easier to say in person, he typed back. Ttyl (93-)

K igy. Night J man :)

John swiped over to the other active chat. Jackie had sent him a second copy of the picture she’d taken of the two of them all dressed up in the church’s stairwell – the owl mask she’d worn sitting on the stairs behind him – with her tiny flashlight being held up at an angle with the phone so the camera flash didn’t look too terrible in the dark. She’d added a soft-light filter, little sparkling stamps around, and some bat ‘stickers’ here and there, with the caption ‘#StraightOuttaGotham’ in glittering purple bubble-letters at the bottom, all sitting above her text:

Photobooth app didn’t have enough room for “you can’t fight if you ain’t cute” :/

The cave always made his laugh bounce around no matter how loud or quiet he was, and now it was jarring the bats hiding up above. It was funny on several levels at once, but all the feelings that had built up and grown static in the wind-down of the evening’s car ride home finally had a good outlet, and he let it out until he sank to the metal floor to stop himself from doubling over the railing.

John slipped his legs through the gaps in the rails as he caught his breath. He rested the phone in his lap so he could wipe away the moisture that had built up in his left eye. “Ahh…That’s one for the album,” he said to himself, saving the image for later. He’d have to frame that for sure.

Then came footsteps. Not from the right, where he was expecting Bruce sooner or later, and not a hobbled step with a cane from behind that would mean it was Iman. He pocketed his phone, the good mood already evaporating.

Tiffany had stopped a foot away, hands at her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them, her whole face practically screaming unsure. “Hey,” she said finally, with a slight shrug, “Can…I sit with you?”

He knew things would be going this way eventually. She’d saved him back there, in the ironically-named Church of Mercy, and he wasn’t sure if it was an attempt at apologizing or if she would’ve done it for anyone, but it had broken the ice. He’d went along with being casual – and not just for Bruce’s sake – and even though he’d like nothing more than to shove all the awkwardness and pain from the past two days into a drawer for him to pointedly avoid for the rest of his life, he knew that wouldn’t happen now. It had to be laid out on the table and pointed to like a broken vase.

“Pretty sure that it’s still a free country if we’re underneath it,” he answered lightly, “Unless this place isn’t marked on a map... Then you could do anything anyway.”

Tiffany sat next to him, crossing one leg and letting the other hang over the side through the gap in the metal railing. She was quiet, and even though only a few seconds passed it felt like way too long to him. “So, are you okay? I mean, like, physically,” she rushed, “I know you’re okay…otherwise,” she finished lamely, trying to gesture slightly with her hands towards another category. “But you got shot at, and I know I saw blood on you - and Iman filled me in on Arkham while you were upstairs,” she went on, “Fighting one of those Talon guys on your own couldn’t have been easy.”

John felt a cruel giggle bubbling in this throat. She was clearly trying to avoid saying anything that could be construed as another attack on his mental health, and it was made funnier by her shirt sporting the words ‘Point B.L.A.N.K’ dramatically written above some language he couldn’t read. “Aww, are you worried?” he teased, needling her further. He wanted her to squirm a bit.

“Well… Yeah. I saw a guy punch you in the gut. Who knows what other injuries you have?”

“I didn’t think you cared,” he answered, swinging his legs over the edge and looking out at the cave. Tiffany was easy to poke. The quiet said all he needed to know of her embarrassment. “You saved me earlier, sure, but that could’ve just been payback for all I know.”

He could feel her staring. “John, why do you think I’m talking to you right now?”

Well his first guess was ‘guilt’, but-

“Look, I know I screwed up. But I didn’t save you to make up for it. Or for any of that ‘tit for tat’ garbage,” she said, dark eyes staring at him pointedly, a softness like Bruce’s there. “I saw someone pointing a gun at you, and I acted.”

Ah. Ha ha. Ha ha ha! “A real hero, huh?” He leaned his head against the railing, the laugh dying low in his throat. He slid his arms through the large gap, too, numbing himself as he loosely crossed his arms. “I know you know what it’s like getting stabbed,” he said, holding up his own scarred palm, mirroring hers, “so I know you understand when I say that little conversation you and Alfred had about me was on par with that. I mean, I knew Alfred didn’t really approve of me when I got here. It still twisted the knife in,” he mimed at his own heart, smiling but not feeling the humor of the joke, “but it wasn’t a real surprise. But you? I thought we had something. We were getting along, becoming friends, having fun chasing the crook-of-the-week… And then you pulled the rug out from under me. I just can’t figure out what I did that sent me back to square one.”

She didn’t look away, at first. Her eyes and nose scrunched slightly, her brows furrowed up, and it was all regret. Tiffany cast a look over the cave again, her hands crumpling the material of her pink sweatpants. “It wasn’t really you,” she answered, “Bruce didn’t tell me you two were...together. So when you said you knew he loved you, I thought it was a big red flag,” she said, glancing over at him briefly. “And when you showed up at the Gala… I thought maybe you were obsessing over him or something. The whole ‘Court of Owls’ theory you put forth sounded so – so wrong, that I thought you’d…”

Gone off your meds, John finished for her. She looked like she didn’t want to say that, and was struggling for anything else to replace it.

“I thought Bruce was in danger,” she lamented, “I know I should’ve just talked to him and cut out all the bullshit, but I didn’t think he’d really listen to me.” Tiffany met his eyes again, not breaking away this time. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have said any of it if-” she cut herself off, clearly not liking where that sentence was going – “I never meant to hurt you,” she added instead, clasping her hands together in her lap and avoiding his gaze. “That’s really what it boils down to. Can we…start over? Pretend it never happened?”

John stared back at her. She was serious about wanting that. It came through in her voice and her soft brown eyes. Tiffany and Bruce weren’t related, but they sure could be alike sometimes. That ‘I never meant to hurt you’ sounded a lot like him.

He remembered getting that Batarang stuck in his hand. The sharp edges piercing his palm and sent his nerves screaming back into reality... Forgetting the rude things they’d said about him was like trying to erase the Batarang.

It was funny, though: he wasn’t as mad about it. Either the cold metal of the walkway was doing a pretty good job of keeping him numb to the bits of angry hurt still sitting in his gut, or Dr. Song had been right when she’d said looking at things from their perspective could help. They really did all love Bruce, didn’t they? They all kept looking out for him in their own ways…

Still, he couldn’t pretend it never happened. It was impossible, even if he wanted to. It was another thing to mend and heal. She had to understand that.

John sighed, leaning back to stretch out. “Kinda hard to forget about all that, kiddo,” he said, “I know, it’s ironic – an amnesiac who can’t forget something,” he joked, chuckling at himself. “But pretending it didn’t happen won’t make the wound heal any faster.”

He could feel the muscle in his right palm twitch. If he had to face reality head-on, so did Tiffany.

“We both know that,” he continued, “My hand took several weeks to heal after surgery, but I see the scar every day. I can cover it up, but I’ll always know it’s there. It’s the same for you, right?” he asked, pointing at her own scarred hand.

Tiffany looked down at her right hand, where the faded scar made a slash over the back, in-between the knuckles and wrist. He could tell she was thinking of the knife he’d run through her hand; but there was no pain written in her face. Only understanding. “Yeah.”

“See? That’s why we can’t pretend. The scars aren’t visible, but I know they’re there.” John kicked his legs over the edge. “They’ll just take a little longer to heal.”

“I guess starting over isn’t really an option, huh…”

“And what, forget about how you literally flew down to kick that Owl in the head? Our car chase on your bike? Our little crime scene investigation on the roof? Not on your life!” he grinned over at her. “We don’t need to start over, Tiff’. You just have to learn to take my feelings a little more seriously. And stop making assumptions.”

Tiffany looked at him like she was searching for anything insincere. She seemed hopeful. Or maybe it was relieved. John settled on a mix of both. “I think I can do that,” she answered with a slight smile.

“Oh, good; fighting beside you is more fun when we get to banter.” Truthfully, he felt better knowing they were picking things up where they’d left off rather than having to start afresh again. He’d had more than enough of that. “Sooo…does this mean I can call you ‘Tiffy’ now?”

“I’ll think about it.” Tiffany shuffled her legs to put both over the platform’s edge, leaning her arms over the rail. “Are you waiting for Bruce?”

“Yup.”

“He really pushes himself too hard,” she said, swinging her legs gently. “I know it’s because he’s Batman, but I almost thought he’d collapse when we got home. The guy’s exhausted.”

“That’s why I’m waiting,” John commented, “I didn’t want to leave him to climb up all those stairs alone… You’d think with a cave this size there’d be a bed down here.”

“Yeah, you’d think…” Tiffany’s dark eyes suddenly sparked. “Why don’t we bring one down for him instead?”

Ooh. Now that was an idea... The cave was Bruce’s domain, but how many nights did Bruce come home this tired and crawl up to that giant master bed to sleep the pain and emotional lashes off, all alone? Probably more than he’d ever say…

“How many guest rooms does this place have, again? There’s me, you, Iman…” He tossed a look over at Iman behind them, seeing the chair shift around like she hadn’t been watching them the whole time. He eyed her, thinking about height and width. “What do you think, two mattresses for the four of us? Unless Alfred wants in…”

Tiffany gave a light, short laugh. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a sleepover, but I think two will work,” she answered, gripping the railing to stand. “And I don’t think Alfred would sleep down here, even if it wasn’t the Batcave; he’s got a fancy adjustable bed. Hey, Iman!”

Iman swiveled the chair all the way around. “Yes?”

“We’re moving mattresses to sleep down here tonight. You in?”

“Only if you’re using the seven-hundred-thread-count sheets,” she answered, “And if one of you could get my eye mask from my room, please?”

John pushed himself up off the floor and brushed off his pajama pants. “I gotcha, Agent. Need anything else?”

“A pillow for my ankle wouldn’t hurt.”

Tiffany was already heading towards the elevator. “Just text if you think of something else.”

John followed close behind, glancing around the corner towards the bathroom Bruce was still holed up in. The light was still on under the door. “What are the odds he’ll come out of there as soon as we’re in the elevator?”

“Preeetty good. Which is why we’ll have to go fast.” The elevator slid open, and they both stepped in at the same time. “Otherwise he’ll try and go up anyway.”

                                                         † † † † †

Bruce stepped out from the steamy tiled bathroom onto the cool metal of the Batcave floor. He didn’t quite care that his hair wasn’t completely dry or that he’d stayed a little too long in the shower. He’d become hazy under the spray, letting the hot water soak into his skin and wash away the Bat, bringing him back to his senses. His anger had faded, being worked through his body during the raid on the Court of Owls, and what had settled into a sense of satisfaction had turned into a hunger for something he couldn’t quite place.

He expected to see John as he rounded the corner, but he encountered nothing but empty space. He looked over the cave, not seeing any sign of life where he would expect to… No sign of John or Tiffany at all; he didn’t expect to see them too close together, but he still expected to see them doing something, maybe at the weapons storage or the medical bay. He didn’t hold out hope for Alfred to hang around, and he expected Iman had gone to get some proper sleep.

Bruce was used to being alone in there, and in the rest of the manor. Maybe he’d just gotten used to the hectic days of a full house and almost constant companionship, but somehow, being down there all alone at that moment felt…hollow.

The soft click of a mouse pulled his attention towards the Batcomputer, where he could see Iman’s messy brown bun poking over the top of the captain’s chair. An empty office chair sat next to it, turned oddly like she had been moving between chairs at a whim.

Bruce felt strangely relieved to know someone was still down there. He made his way towards her, checking the screens; she seemed to be working on the left-over notes and references to what they’d all found, complete with pictures.

“Where are those from?”

Iman practically jumped in her seat with a shout. He’d clearly startled her too much. “Bruce, I didn’t even hear you walking,” she stressed.

Oh. He didn’t even realize he was still using his stealth walk. “Sorry, force of habit,” he said with an apologetic shrug, “I was trained by ninjas.”

“At least tap the back of the chair next time. I’ve strained my ears and this thing’s,” she gestured to the snake-shaped hearing aid, “abilities more than enough for one evening. Anyway, you…asked something?”

He decided against telling her to go get some rest. “The pictures you took,” he said while looking back up at the monitor, “Where are they from? I don’t recognize them.”

“Those are the ones John took from the theater. He didn’t label them, so I’m going through and marking which were more relevant.”

There was more than one picture of the various bat-signal-like shapes sprayed on the walls. And one that looked like the clown-smiley-face he drew on the sticky notes still saved in Bruce’s desk drawer. “Ah, yes, graffiti art. Very relevant.”

“I think it’s interesting. I wonder how many different people went through there… You can see the different spray patterns of the bats, and some have more control over the drip of the paint. And they were scattered all over that hallway; a lot of people were brave to go in there and tag it in the first place, but to do a bat? Considering how much anti-Batman graffiti there is in the middle of Gotham, it really says something.”

Truthfully, Bruce didn’t think it was that brave to go tag the inside of an all-but-abandoned building, but he reminded himself that he had refined his breaking-and-entering skills for years, and others had grown up honing them for survival, so he kept that quiet. “I have more secret admirers than I thought.”

“As long as they don’t form a vigilante club,” Iman muttered.

Hm… He had to admit he’d thought about other John Does running around since the Agency had left. It was a small concern, considering John’s old friends – the ones Bruce could find not under arrest, in any case – had kept their noses clean of further clown-themed vigilantism. But there was Sonja, Reverend Overfield, and that unidentified Owl… “Some already did. The Court of Owls seemed to think we were on the same side.”

“You don’t believe that, do you?” she asked, swiveling to look at him. She was surprisingly annoyed, and almost disgusted. “They were prepared to kill you back there. If they had the chance, they would have.” She stared at him hard. “Throwing John and I in Arkham – that was to make us suffer before they destroyed the place. And I know that if you weren’t Batman, they were going to try and induct you, and then kill you – that Talon who found us at the theatre had a file on your public face in their pile of targeted Arkham residents.”

He’d suspected Bruce Wayne was on their hit list. None of that was a surprise, but he had refrained from thinking too much about the situation at Arkham. And now he saw her point: there was no way to know how long either of them would stay unconscious; both of them clearly had time to escape, but if they couldn’t have… Waking up in Arkham only to die in its crumbled ruins would’ve been a wide-awake nightmare.

“You’re not like them, Bruce. They don’t have any regard for human life outside of their puritanical views. I know you well enough to say you’re better than that.”

He knew he was harder than he needed to be on people sometimes. He knew that if he wasn’t exactly who he was now, he might be more like the Owls than he’d want. But hearing someone other than himself say he wasn’t like them lifted the weighted question off his mind. At least for tonight. “I don’t exactly believe we were on the same side, but… I needed to hear that,” he said sincerely. “How’s your ankle?”

Iman cast a look down at the plastic brace strapped over her foot and calf. “It could be better. Alfred assures me that it’s not broken, but I can’t drive for at least two weeks,” she huffed. “I really shouldn’t have walked on it to follow John out of the laundry room, but I wasn’t sure what that Talon would do at the time… It goes to follow, when something stops you from moving around, you suddenly appreciate being able to do so on your own. Though I’m not looking forward to eventually having to go up stairs all by myself.”

Was that why she was still awake? “I’m surprised you’re still down here. I would’ve thought someone would have helped you up,” he commented as the elevator door dinged.

“Oh, I don’t need help tonight,” she smiled up at him, “Our city’s two other heroes are bringing a bed down here.”

“Bringing a bed?” Bruce pondered aloud.

“Two beds, actually,” Alfred interjected, “I barely stopped your partners in crime from surfing down the stairs with the mattresses.”

The old butler might have been dressed in his bathrobe and slippers, but he still seemed like he was on duty; he was even carrying in a plate of miscellaneous finger-food from the gala and holding it like he was going around the ballroom. It was a sight that Bruce didn’t know he’d needed to see until right then.

“They’re under the impression you’re going to fall to pieces trying to get up the stairs tonight. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I’ve seen you manage with two fractured ribs, a wounded leg, and broken arm.”

Bruce barely noticed that Alfred had put the plate down near him. The elevator had silently retreated and was coming back down again.

“At least you don’t have any of those injuries this time,” Alfred commented gently, “This is the most whole I’ve seen you after one of these nights.”

Tiffany came out of the elevator first, backing out with one end of a queen-sized mattress in her hands, and John carrying the other – at least until John spotted him. “Bruce!” The mattress slipped out of his hands as his face lit up like it was visiting hours.

Tiffany struggled to balance the sudden shift in weight. “John! Don’t DROP it!”

“Whoops – sorry.”

Tiffany didn’t seem to mad about it. “At least we can slide it down the stairs…”

Alfred turned towards them. “You will not,” he called out to them firmly, “Both of you will either carry it down, or you will sleep up here.”

John looked over at the stairs. “Uh, we should probably switch sides, then…”

Bruce watched them for a moment. It was strange how both of them were suddenly getting along. He’d looked over it at the church, putting it down to a truce, but now it seemed like they’d made amends.

“I know I have them to thank for that,” Alfred continued, “I never expected you to have both a protégé and a very dedicated partner, much less have them both out in the field with you.”

Partner. The word stuck out like a sore thumb. There was no distaste, no disapproval, just acknowledgement. “Neither did I,” Bruce said, not wanting to call too much attention to it right away, “Two years ago I never expected I could have people I could regularly count on, other than you.”

“Yes, well… I’m glad we were both caught off guard, in that sense. I always said you needed more than my old bones to keep up your crusade.”

Bruce eyed him, looking for any sign of denial or hesitance. “I’d say John is more than a partner at this point.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, straightening slightly. “I’m well aware of your feelings, Master Bruce; I just never thought you’d really follow through with them.” He looked out over the landing, where John was backing down the last set of stairs very carefully with the mattress end. “I suppose I hoped you wouldn’t, in a sense. Truthfully, I didn’t think he was…good enough for you, before,” he settled on, his features going soft. Bruce sometimes forgot how old Alfred really was, and his age showed more than ever in the fine lines and the softer look staring at him in the dark brown eyes sitting behind thin, wiry glasses. “I only ever want what’s best for you.”

Bruce couldn’t bring himself to tell him he could decide what was best for himself, despite the childish desire to say so. Alfred was only doing his duty as his guardian. Looking out for his ward in the best ways he knew how. “I know that, Al’.”

He turned away from Bruce, picking the plate back up. “Besides, I figured the term ‘vigilante-boyfriend’ sounded a bit too gauche. ‘Partner’ is far more versatile.”

Bruce found himself with the full plate being pushed into his hands. The smell of the cucumber and ham in the tea sandwiches on the tray hit his nose like a punch, causing his stomach to gurgle in response. The little vegetable rolls, spinach puffs, raspberry chocolate tartlets, and bite-size beef wellingtons were quite a sight for someone who hadn’t eaten anything all day.

“That’s for the both of you. I’d better find it empty when I come back down tomorrow morning.” Surprisingly, he passed Bruce, reaching into his robe pockets as he conversed with Iman. “Here you are, my dear – phone fully charged, and painkillers as requested…”

Bruce decided to let them talk alone, and made his way towards the still-open elevator, where Tiffany and John were just maneuvering the second mattress out.

“Hey, buddy! Can you, uh, toss some of those pillows on here?” John nodded his head towards the mattress center, being held flat.

“Might as well throw on the blankets, too,” Tiffany added from the elevator door, holding the mattress up with one leg to wrangle one of the blankets up.

Bruce looked at the corner of the elevator, where they’d dropped the once-neatly-folded bedclothes and pillows. “It’s a good thing Alfred is distracted,” he mumbled, using his free hand to toss the pillows on, “He’d never forgive you two for throwing these on the floor.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Tiffany shrugged.

Bruce tossed the blanket over the pillows. He knew better than to think that anymore. “How many times did I tell that to myself?”

“Hey, at least it’s just sheets this time.”

Bruce returned her little smile, bundling the sheets under his free arm so he could walk alongside her. Despite everything that had happened earlier that day, she seemed to be doing better than he’d expected. She was right when she said she could handle herself out there. Still, he knew what it was like to lie there and process everything afterwards in an exhausted stupor rather than sleep, and she might have had that youthful spark of energy going into the Court’s lair, but... “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

Tiffany hummed in thought. “If you told me this morning that we were going to be kidnapped by the Court of Owls, escape, and then willingly go back to their lair to fight them and arrest Black Mask, I would’ve asked what planet you thought we were on.” She watched the pillows shift in the center of the mattress and slowly try to slide down with gravity as they descended the stairs. She had the same expression now as when she was working, with eyes fixed on a screen half-filled with code only she truly understood. “That was one hell of a day,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting into another smile, “but I could do it again. That’s how I’m feeling. How about you? You seem pretty tired. Not that I blame you…”

He’d had longer days than this. He was used to the gnaws of hunger, to not getting enough rest, to the strain of almost-overworked muscle, and the muddled cornucopia of thoughts in his head.

It was strange, though, how he didn’t really feel any of it right now. At least not in the same way as before. It was there, but all like background noise, like the rush of the waterfall in the cave. The feeling of needing something unnameable was all but gone, as if drowned out. Or maybe fulfilled.

The only thing he was sure he could really feel was… “Satisfied,” he answered.

“Really?”

“Really.” He knew she had to be part of the reason for that. The day would’ve been longer and far more arduous without her help. “I was really impressed with you out there. I know Lucius would be proud.”

She smiled wider, the sparkle returning to her eyes with pride. “I think so, too.”

The mattress was dropped a foot above the floor, right next to the other in the middle of the platform. Bruce put the plate down on the floor and worked on finding the bottom sheet for one set. “Now, if you had told me I’d be doing this today, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

John grinned over at him. “Gee, Bruce, you act like making a bed to sleep on with your friends in the middle of your top-secret hideout is weird.”

He tossed him the other end of the fitted sheet. “Don’t tell me you’ve done this before.”

“Me? Hah! Nah. But a good idea is a good idea.”

Tiffany tucked the corner in with a playful huff. “You should’ve had more sleepovers as a kid,” she shot to Bruce, “You’d understand better.” (Bruce didn’t know exactly why that would help in this situation.) “My friends and I once set up a tent in the living room, moved it to the back yard in one piece, and then pretended we were all pioneer girls on the run from the law.” She straightened her side of the top sheet she’d taken from the pile. “I still remember that stew we made in the camping gear…”

“What crimes did you guys commit?” John asked, not paying attention as he was tossed the end of the blanket. He missed grabbing it.

“Uh, murdering our husbands, witchcraft, and stealing a pie.”

Bruce raised a brow while John laughed. “And how does that help make this whole night any less strange?”

Tiffany stepped around him to start on the other mattress. “Because on weird levels, this is nothing.”

He supposed so. If he compared the whole day up until this moment… “I guess getting broken out of a kidnapping via the Batmobile crashing through a wall is a lot less mundane than this.”

John sighed. “I wish I could’ve seen that,” he said wistfully, taking the other end of the second fitted sheet. “That sounds way more fun than crawling through the air vent.”

Bruce felt the year-old wound in his side twinge. He glanced down at John’s long white fingers, seeing a plaster wrapped around one. There were two more on his elbows, along with several bruises. Iman had only mentioned during their drive to the church that John had found her locked up before they got entangled with the Talon.

“Really? How did that happen?” Tiffany asked innocently, unaware of the implications of John’s situation.

He’d woken up alone in a locked cell.

And as expected, John’s demeanor changed, his eyes looking far away, beyond the top sheet he was still staring at and back to Arkham. “Not by choice,” he said darkly. He glanced over at his right forearm. The cuts from the glass at St. Dymphna were partially healed already, but Bruce wondered why he didn’t put a fresh bandage over it. “But it turned out alright,” he finished as if returned to the present. “I mean, I’m here, you’re here – right where we should be.”

Bruce heard chair wheels rolling over metal from up above. Iman had stopped the office chair near the top of the stairs. “Tiffany, can you come up? I need your help for a sec’.”

“Coming!”

Alfred called over the railings at the group, too:  “Good night; I’ll be back down in the morning for you all.”

Bruce heard the three other bids of goodnight, but didn’t pay it any attention – John had taken a seat on the newly-covered makeshift bed, glancing over at him with a soft, needy sort of look, as if Bruce was too far away. Bruce took the bed opposite his, facing the staircase, leaving the plate of finger-food in the small part between them.

“Half of this is yours,” he said, pointing to the plate.

“You should probably eat some of that, then,” John said quietly, a smile picking up the corner of his pale lips. “Alfred told me to make sure you do. I’d hate to force-feed you.”

Bruce doubted that very much, but the laugh in John’s eyes wasn’t quite there. Like him, John was waiting to hear that last footstep on the stairs. Bruce padded out the time by eating two of the spinach puffs in one bite; the buttery crust and soft spinach melted in his mouth, and in one swoop he felt like he could eat the whole plate.

John gave a tiny laugh, and then the coast was clear up above. They were alone. One beat, and then two, and then it was nothing but John sitting across from him, heart bare and needy. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said quietly. “You just…deal with all of this so casually, and I’m… Ha, kinda shaken up, the more I think about it.” He looked down at his hand, where the Batarang had plunged through thirteen months ago. “I almost broke, you know. Nearly took that emergency exit.”

Bruce was unable to move. He didn’t have to ask what it meant. He knew, intrinsically.

“If it wasn’t for you, and the others, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be pushing up daisies with the rest of Arkham,” he continued, looking unblinkingly at Bruce despite the humorous tilt to his voice at ‘daisies’. His little smile was brief. “It was scary. I can only imagine what it was like for you, waking up all alone in ‘Owl H.Q.’…” John softened, stooping to lean his elbows on his knees. He stared at the rope burns on Bruce’s wrists. “I wish I could’ve saved you.”

Considering Arkham was still standing thanks to him, Bruce was grateful that he couldn’t. But he was clearly upset, and he needed more comfort than that. “You saved a lot of lives tonight,” Bruce soothed, “Iman, Arkham, Gotham…and mine, at least twice in that courtroom.”

“But it’s not the same,” John grumbled, “I don’t care if you’re Batman or not – you had to break yourself out of your cell, with no help, and you act like it was nothing.”

So that was it. He’d almost had a breakdown in Arkham before he escaped, and he wasn’t so much ashamed or embarrassed about it as he was guilty. And coupled with it was the envy of Bruce’s ability to keep calm, and he’d attributed it to not feeling any repercussions.

But Bruce couldn’t blame him for thinking that way. He’d been straightforward in the car when explaining his and Tiffany’s dramatic kidnap and escape, with Tiffany embellishing the story with her own little details. He’d mainly focused on getting them all home.

“It wasn’t nothing,” he admitted. It wasn’t as bad as John’s experience, but he would understand. “I could hear everything, but I couldn’t see anything. All I could think of was the time I was wasting in that chair. The people who could come back in any second. I thought of everything that could happen – to me, to Tiffany, to Gotham… Every awful scenario.” He was so used to being out on his own, it never occurred to him that John might have the opportunity to save him. He’d thought of everything but rescue… “It just seemed small in comparison to everything else tonight; and I worked out most of my feelings about that on the Owls.”

John gave a light chuckle that seemed much more genuine. “I thought some of those hits looked a little more forceful than usual. That Reverend looked pret-ty messed up – I would’ve loved to see that fight.” He picked up one of the little beef wellingtons, the excitement brewing in his voice making Bruce’s face feel warm. “I did some physical therapy, too. That Owl-man in Arkham didn’t know who he was dealing with.”

The bruises on John’s arms were more prominent next to his wild lounge pants. Some of them, and likely the light one on his cheek, had to be from the Talon. He’d gone through his worst nightmare and rolled with it all the way up until now. As impressive as it was, it squeezed something uncomfortably in Bruce’s chest. If he hadn’t gotten kidnapped himself, if he’d known earlier, if he hadn’t asked John and Iman to go to the theatre in the first place…

“I wish I could’ve saved you, too,” Bruce said softly, feeling every word.

“It’s okay. It was probably better for me that you didn’t.” John chewed on a vegetable roll. “Kinda made me wonder if Dr. Crane had point, y’know? The whole ‘facing your fears is the only way to get over them’ thing.”

“No,” Bruce said bluntly, hearing his voice dip as if by reflex at the mention of the disgraced doctor, “Not like that. Never like that.”

John leant back, giving a little hum in thought as he looked up at the stalactites and popped one of the sandwiches in his mouth.

He was quiet for a bit. Bruce could barely taste what he was eating in the silence. Thoughts were swirling behind those poisonous green eyes, and they weren’t looking at him enough. Bruce’s gaze trailed over the sharp lines of his pale face, over his lips and down to the bruises on John’s neck. It was only from yesterday, but it felt like it had been a week ago, now.

“I guess it was a pretty extreme therapy session,” John muttered, neck still craned up to look at the ceiling, “Waking up and doubting the whole past year. Thinking I was locked away again. I wouldn’t want to do it over. But I’m so much more sure of things now.” He looked back at Bruce, not quite softly, but steady. Bruce felt pinned to the spot. “I’m not doubting anything. Not anymore.”

He said it as if it was a choice he was making. “How can you be sure?”

“I’m not,” he answered with half a shrug and a smile, “but if you’re here, then I know everything happened. It’s how it’s always been.” He leaned forward with something like gratitude in the affection on display. “I would’ve liked you to burst in and save me, but you do that every day.”

Bruce felt his heart jolt. I do?

He couldn’t ask that. It felt like a natural thing for John to say, and he sort of understood the reason why without even asking. He wanted badly to say that John did the same for him, but it felt shallow to just toss the phrase back. For a moment, he wondered if John had even said it at all.

He never wanted to touch him more than now, to make sure he was real. He looked down at the thin white hands. John shifted one forward, not quite reaching out – Bruce took it without thinking. It was warm and solid, like the mattress he was sitting on.

It was like being under the faucet in the shower, letting the hot water pour over his shoulders and down his parched throat. He wanted to lay on John and just feel him there in all his messy beauty.

Before he knew it, Bruce’s forehead found itself resting on John’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t be here without you, John,” Bruce said, tasting raspberries on the roof of his mouth, “I’m Batman because I have to be. And I want to be. I’ll always be Batman.” He could smell sandalwood and cheap laundry soap as John’s right arm wrapped around his back delicately, as if Bruce would melt away. “But you make me feel like it’s a choice I can make, and I keep choosing ‘yes’ because of you.”

John didn’t breathe for a moment. Bruce felt it brush past his ear. “Oh, buddy,” John whispered, “you really know how to take a guy’s breath away. I would’ve settled for ‘you’re the moon to my sun ’ …”

Bruce’s left arm curled around John’s middle in return. His hand was warm and he didn’t want to let go. “I could say that too, if you wanted,” he muttered.

He felt John’s laugh brew before he heard it. “Hee hee hoo hee! Yeah, but wouldn’t sound like you!” John grinned into his hair. “I love you just the way you are, Bruce.”

Bruce held him tighter, not wanting to let go.

He could hear that a hundred times, and still catch himself not quite believing he really meant it.

“Uh, did we miss something?” Tiffany asked from what sounded like the stairs, freezing Bruce’s thoughts. He hadn’t heard their footsteps at all.

“Just mushy stuff,” John answered with a sly smile, letting Bruce slip away from his embrace and distract himself by pushing the plate away. “You know, two lovers against the world, that kinda thing.”

Bruce knew logically he had no reason to be embarrassed. They weren’t hiding their relationship anymore, and Bruce was used to having far more scandalous displays of affection being seen by the public. But he never felt so exposed. “John.”

“Yeah?”

Bruce picked up the tartlet left and pushed it at John’s mouth. “Finish that for me.” He seemed happy to take it with his teeth, so Bruce set on setting the pillows right and distract everyone from what they’d seen. Iman had two pillows of different sizes, Bruce had his own special side-sleeper one… “Did any of you think about how this was going to work?”

Tiffany stepped towards Bruce with Iman’s arm over her shoulder, seeming to carry her weight with ease. “I’m sleeping next to you at the end.”

“And I’m sleeping on this other end,” Iman said. “You’re in the middle with John next to me.”

John rocked to one side. “Really? I thought you two would want to sleep next to each other…”

“I’ll overheat in the middle,” Tiffany waved away, letting Iman set herself down on the makeshift bed.

“Juuust that?” John grinned knowingly over at Iman, “Or should I start charging for my piggyback rides?”

“Piggyback?” Tiffany squinted down at Iman. “You don’t think I could’ve done that?”

“Er, no, I know you’re capable-”

John looked way too smug. “I have a sturdier back.”

“The hell you do. I’ve been training with Bruce for a full year - I could pick you up if I wanted.”

“Ooh, you think so? Bring it!”

Bruce had enough. His was far too tired to let them horse around all night. His hand caught John’s shoulder before he could stand. “Save it.” (John hesitated to sit back down at first, but did so with a pout.) “It’s late, and three of us have work tomorrow.”

Tiffany trod over to Bruce’s side of the bed. The mattresses were pushed together now, to have one large double-queen. “What, am I back in grade school?” she mumbled. “It’s barely past one.”

It is? But that can’t be right… Bruce pulled out his phone to check. Sure enough, it was 1:06 A.M. But that couldn’t have been right – it took them roughly half an hour to get home, and he was sure he was in the shower for over thirty minutes… “Huh. I wouldn’t have thought that we’d get home so fast…”

John started to settle under the sheets next to Iman, who was positioning the pillow for her ankle. “What do you mean?”

“It’s only after one, but I could have sworn we left just after twelve.”

“You didn’t leave after twelve,” Iman chimed in, “you all left just after eleven-forty. I have the time-stamp on when the drone connected to the Batmobile.”

Maybe Bruce’s sense of time was just off. “Was the clock in the tower set correctly?”

Tiffany plopped next to him, hugging an extra pillow. “Yup. I remember checking it against my tablet when we were outside. Why?”

It felt strangely personal to say it aloud. But he didn’t really see any alternative. “The bell in the tower tolled before the rest of you came up.” A beat of silence. “It seemed planned; the reverend called it ‘the justice toll’. I assumed it was supposed to ring after the trial was over, to coincide with the clock – hence the twelve tolls I heard.”

John nodded with an elongated ‘oh’ as Iman checked her phone with a hum.

Tiffany pulled out her phone and swiped around. “Oh, I know what it is – there’s that hole in the roof, remember?” She turned the phone screen to show him the street-camera stream. Sure enough, there was a decent sized hole in the roof of the church’s tower, above the bell, barely visible from their angle. “The rain must have finally fried the wiring on their timer, and made the bell go off early.”

“Can you even do that?” John asked. “I thought those things worked mechanically.”

“Sure. The weights and measures needed to pull the bell works on an electrical trigger rather than traditional cog movement. They might have fixed the clock, but I’d bet they took the cheap way out and replaced the cogs with an electric clock that links with whatever they set up for the bell.”

“But the clock face is right,” John pointed out.

Bruce had noticed that, but he was more focused on the various emergency vehicles that had parked on the street around the place. It looked like the whole area was sectioned off with G.C.P.D. cars, and their flashing lights were distracting, but he could see some people on stretchers. He was honestly just glad Gordon’s people had gotten there.

“The source for that is probably separate.” Tiffany put her phone away. “That, or someone upstairs really likes irony.”

John laughed, falling back onto the pillow. “That, or Bruce!” he grinned, lightly slapping Bruce’s arm.

Iman stretched her phone over John towards Bruce – a log of time-stamps and drone connectivity. “Here, I was right: 11:43:20PM, my drone connected with the Batmobile. So the chimes went off a few minutes before then.” She pulled her phone away and stashed it under her pillow. Bruce knew the vibration on it was set high enough to wake the dead. “I’m going to take my hearing aid out, now. Goodnight, guys.”

Tiffany tucked herself under the sheets, with Bruce following and muttering goodnight at the same time.

“Oh!” John tapped Iman and moved his hand to gesture, not quite touching his mouth and moving the same hand to hover over the other in a cupping motion.

Iman gave him a thumbs-up as she put her aid on the other side of the pillow. She settled down on her back, pulling on a thick eye-mask and folding her hands over her stomach on the covers.

“Sleep does sound pretty good right now,” Tiffany mumbled, settling on her side to face Bruce with the second pillow still in her arms. “Can we do something about the lights, though?”

Bruce was still sitting up. “Computer, dim lights to five percent, disable all non-proximity alerts for the next five hours, keep repellant sonar active in all areas for the next six hours, and turn off main screens.”

As expected, the lights dimmed low as the electronic voice echoed back at him:  “ENTERING SLEEP MODE.”

I can’t believe I forgot I made that setting, Bruce thought disgruntledly to himself. He blamed it on the need for sleep and the very long week.

“Thank you,” John added from the pillow. Naturally, the Batcomputer did not answer back, but he didn’t seem to expect it. “’Night, Tiff’; don’t let the bats bite.”

“’Night, guys – and they shouldn’t, John; that’s what the repellent sonar is for.”

Bruce let the sound of the waterfall in the distance take over his thoughts instead. The rush of water, the cool air, the darkness that surrounded them softly – all of it tended to relax him. It kept his head cool, even when confronted with the worst Gotham could offer. As usual, felt more comfortable there than anywhere else in the house.

In fact, he felt better than usual. Being Batman could be exhausting and dangerous, but the end results were often worth the labor and occasional scars. The satisfaction after the fight was still there, the hunger was gone, but more than that…he felt somehow complete.

Bruce felt a tug on the end of his t-shirt. John patted the mattress. “Lay down already,” he mumbled, a smile in his voice.

Bruce made to lie down on his stomach, folding his arms underneath his pillow with a sigh of goodnight. He couldn’t remember the last time – if there was any time – he’d slept with so many people around.

He felt John rolling onto his side to face him with his left hand placed between their pillows. A wordless invitation to which Bruce responded almost immediately, linking his left pinkie with John’s.

He could see the ‘I love you’ in his handsome, pale face, and wondered if John could see it in his.

The cave’s atmosphere swallowed him gently, as always, but the warmth that came from John’s quiet

‘night’

and the flutter of his lashes into a sweet calm was what finally made Bruce slip into sleep.

                                                       † † † † †

Author Notes:  Did you all have fun re-reading and finding my tarot hints? (*☌ᴗ☌)｡*ﾟ Man, I didn't realize how much stuff I referenced until I went over my own notes over the past few months... Some of them are hard!! I drew up a chapter-by-chapter guide you can read here on tumblr [soon!], if you'd like to read it. I'm sure you saw "The World" clearly in the title here, but this chapter is also referencing the X of Cups! It's a celebration of our fulfilling journey finally coming to a close! We still have the epilogue left, but it's a bit sad to be finishing this story soon. It took a lot longer to finish than the other one...

But you're not thinking about that!!! You're thinking about the fact that I made A BATFAM SLEEPOVER ENDING!!!! The whole Batfam under one roof!!! Found-family bonding, baby!!! Ha ha ha, yes, back in Feb 2020, I was sorting through ideas of what to have as an ending! I knew I wanted John to have the opportunity to make his own decisions regarding relationships, and thus be able to forgive Tiffy and Al', but I wasn't sure on where to show it outside of the post-battle Batcave, and furthermore what to do with everyone after that! And then I thought "what's the most self-indulgent thing I could do?" to which I instantly replied .ﾟ☆found family sleepover☆ﾟ. and here we are!!! John is OFFICIALLY part of the Bat-family! Tiffany is recognized by Batman as a valuable team member! Iman is ALSO officially part of the Bat-family! Even Alfred got character growth! And Bruce recognizes that he needs and loves the people around him and that they are in fact an unspoken family AT LAST!!! I hope it's just as satisfying for you all to read as it was for me to write!

Speaking of, fun facts about The Sleepover Ending™:  You can only get it if you have Tiffany and John on Bruce's team, and they have to be on good terms with each other (i.e. John was not actively mean to her, and agreed to give her another chance) as well as Bruce (Bruce can't be mean to Tiff and tell her not to get involved at the Court;  just don't be mean enough to John, even he has limits). If you're re-romancing Selina she'll be there, but like Tiff she overheats so she'll take Iman's place at the end or else have another bed above Bruce. If you're just friends with Selina, even if she joined you at the Court she'll go home her own way.

For those of you wondering if John ever texted Jackie back after she sent him that purikura-esque picture of them, he did while he was going upstairs with Tiffany. (He texted outright he was framing it, and showed it to Tiffany.) And for those of you are like "Why didn't John and Bruce kiss?? I need my vicarious smooches :(", I know how you feel, but the answer is a little complex. I wanted to show their love to the audience without much physical contact, because it a) fits the mood of "i'm still a little overwhelmed by everything that happened" b) is a fun challenge and c) if this were a real game and the "the player" hasn't romanced John, some of the lines are changed a bit but their gentle embrace still happens, because they're still the most open with each other, love each other, and need each other.

I'd like to give a special shout-out to all of you who recently started reading. Don't think I haven't noticed my hit count jump along with my kudos notifications! I also see the nice things you tag in the public bookmarks! ;D I hope you - and my long-time readers - enjoyed this as much as At the Brink of Midnight. But the story's not truly "over" yet, even after the epilogue, so stay tuned to this Perseverance Project series for more! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Prologue

gang member "Four Ears" - a very very off-the-collar reference to the line "Listen up, four-ears!" from J-Men Forever; in context, it was an off-shoot of the insult "four-eyes" but for music taste, also implying the person's taste was "square".

gang member "Muddy Nye" - his name can be boiled down to "muddy river". It works as an allusion to the messy, unclear case ahead of Bruce and the Batfam, but also as a hint to Clayface, who acted as Muddy in his first sighting of the story.

"Sunset" - a reference to everyone's favorite vampire series to pick on, the Twilight series; back when it was at the height of it's popularity, some drug dealers sold heroin marketed towards the crowd based off it's terrible and unfortunately iconic(?) line from Edward Cullen, "You're my own personal brand of heroin"…hence why the drug of choice BM is shipping here is heroin. Essentially, this plot setup is one big joke.

"FIGS" - a reference to POP! vinyls, hence the capitalized name and spiky word balloon on the packages.

"Gray Ghost [memorabilia]" - one of my (and everyone else's) favorite BtAS episodes, which proves definitively that Bruce Wayne | Batman is not only a Huge Nerd™, but also a massive collector of normal fandom things. (Do you think he troughs through blogs and fanwikis…? What am I saying, of course he does. He edits them.)

gang members "Jack Whendleham and Kirby Noltz" - nod to Jack Kirby, comic artist extraordinaire!

Ch.1: A Different Ceiling

[chapter title] - John does not wake up in Arkham at the start of the story, hence waking up to a different ceiling. He also hits different limitations on what he can do, so it's also a different kind of "ceiling". (Like the term "the glass ceiling", the invisible barrier a demographic hits in a hierarchy.)

St. Dymphna New Life Home - named after Saint Dymphna, the patron saint of mental illness. There's no "'s" at the end because I saw other clinics named after Saints didn't use the possessive form when referencing them.

The Lucky Hotel - an oxymoron, really; the unluckiest place to get stuck at with it's seedy history, but also the place where John "gets lucky"…in a couple of different ways!

Stitched Up Alterations - a heavy nod to the wonderful batjokesy line from S2, "We're two threads in the same stitch". It's pretty deeply ingrained in fanon (and technically canon, if you go with The Dark Knight) that Joker makes his own clothes, hence Batman rarely finding him through his tailor. Since John's thrifty and clearly made his original Joker outfit(s), I piggybacked off it as a legit skill to give him. I mean, come on, the guy is always so stylish! And you're really going to look at me and say he didn't alter his thrifted shirts and vests to fit his sleek frame? Puh-leeease.

13th Street - 13 is a traditionally unlucky number in western culture; hence the "Lucky Hotel" there having a bloody history, along with a failed, closed casino nearby.

Corazón gang - okay, I admit…I'm still a weeb at heart. It's a One Piece reference. Corazon was one of the few post-timeskip new characters I really liked; his name is Spanish for "heart", and he sported a heart motif. Like the gang in this story, he also died before the start of the main storyline.

Ch. 2: Face Values

[chapter title] - A reference to the phrase "not taking things at face value", which is very evident in this story. Also doubles as a rather loose reference to the upcoming Tarot cards.

Sebastian Overfield - The name Sebastian means "from Sebaste", as is derived from the Greek word sebastos ("venerable", someone who has a lot of respect). Overfield of course is "over" and "field", implying the family is on a high hill overlooking/overseeing/maintaining a certain field. As Seb is a reverend, this name is well-fit for him.

orange rose [gift from John] - means "passion" in the language of flowers, and can allude to fascination; this can be taken platonically or romantically…but it's definitely romantic when it's coming from John.

blue iris [gift from John] - means "faith and hope" in the language of flowers, and sometimes are associated with royalty; an allusion to Batman/Bruce's overall symbolism in the eyes of Gotham…and John.

Chandis [ship, circa Prologue] - A reference to Chandi | Chandika, the Hindu deity; the short version of their story is that they are a demon slayer, known to be angry and passionate, wield multiple weapons, and ride a lion. And who was on the ship? Hmm…

Ch. 3: Ink Trails

[chapter title] - A reference to the Alterations' claim slip John finds, which ends up leading back to the Court of Owls. It doubles as a reference to the mask tattoo/clue on Ian 'Nito'.

Faith Ackart - "Ackart" is a variant of "ackhart", derived from "ekkehard", which we can say roughly means "brave/hardy". The name "faith" and "hardy" together is another very subtle clue for the audience towards the villains' motives. (Well, I say that, but it was really more of a joke-clue for me to giggle at. And it makes a good reporter name!)

Lou Monger - the guy's a fish monger…with the last name Monger. It's-a joke! ;D

Ian 'Nito' Coggs - first mentioned without his real last name, but "Ian Coggs, Nito", is a pun on the word "incognito"…which is what Clayface is here.

FriendBook/Chirp/bloggr/uBox - takes on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, and YouTube respectively. (This started back in my 'Season 3' story, At the Brink of Midnight, though I've since learned that bloggr was a real thing. :T) The 'uBox' is meant to be a play on 'jumping box'/'the box' as other terms for TV, like 'the tube'.

"whole tomato of pins" - the supposed history of tomato-shaped pincushions is that tomatoes placed on mantels repelled evil spirits and guaranteed prosperity, but I really wanted to just allude to the common pin-cushion shape. (My mom once had a whole little basket of strawberry shaped pin-cushions. I remember "borrowing" them a lot as a kid to play with. And then "losing" them.)

"sock and buskin masks" - these are a reference to the "comedic sock" and "tragic buskin (i.e. boot)" of the Greek comedy-tragedy theatre masks. I figured something like them would be a good logo for the "false faces", as BM is obsessed with masks. It also doubles as a natural callback to the "your relationship with x has changed" feature of TT games.

Ch. 4: Suite of Cups

[chapter title] - the first chapter to be a reference to the Tarot, in specific the Minor Arcana of Cups; rather than specifying the card at play outright, this title is a pun on the aforementioned arcana "suite", as the main location of events this chapter are in a casino's hotel suite. One can interpret many Cups cards at play here, but...

○ Specifically, in the Casino's suite/crime scene, there are 8 visible seats, but 7 cups on the table. The 7 of Cups refers to choices, fantasy, and illusion, an indicates there are multiple opportunities or many paths you can take, but they should be chosen carefully; when reversed, it can mean confusion, diversion, and temptation, and indicate a lack of choice or failure to choose.

○ The upright version is definitely in play, with the overall root of TellTale games being choices, and some "the player" makes this chapter will move your relationships with Tiffany and John in different ways, which can strengthen your relationships with them. If "the player" has chosen to be a more violent Batman, the way the Talon - and later, the Court - treats Batman is different.

○ The Reversed reading can be interpreted for the Court's complete disregard for the mere notion of choice.

Bauta - a Venetian carnival mask, meant to represent 'anonymous decisions' via it's original design of protecting identities. It's quite common in carnivals.

Melpomene-Thalia - the Venetian masks for comedy and tragedy, a la 'sock and buskin', the masks used as a general symbol for theatre. You can practically taste the irony, given who's shown wearing it...

Volto - a Venetian mask, meant to represent 'anonymity, quiet exit' for it's blank face. It's also known as the "Citizen Mask" because of it's worn by the common folk (in comparison to the more elaborate masks).

The Lot [casino] - named for "drawing lots", like drawing straws or matches to pick a person to do a task (usually with the shortest straw having to do the task, but it varies). This is both a pun on the fact that it's a casino - where you try your luck at gambling - and corresponds with the theme of foretelling the future that's woven throughout much of the story.

The Wednesday Nighters gang - this doesn't mean anything in particular. I'm a big fan of Midsomer Murders, and there's an episode ("Death in a Chocolate Box") where it references a few dirty cops who frequently took the Friday night shift at a station for episode-plot-reasons, who called themselves The Friday Nighters. It's an off-shoot reference to it, hence the corrupt cops on the gang in this story. :)

[John's voicemail] - Another BtAS episode I love is "the terrible secret of Bruce Wayne". In particular, I loved Joker's voicemail when Dr. Strange calls in ("Boy, do YOU have the wrong number!") and I wanted to do something like that. But, y'know, way less murdery.

"F85H4ND" - l33t-written "Fate's Hand", for…well, the hand of fate, supposedly guiding you through life/events. Another correspondent to the foretelling the future theme.

Michael Hodgson - not all of the names I pick for characters mean anything. Sometimes their names are just loose references to things I like. This is a silly mish-mashup of the original hosts of Mystery Science Theater 3000, Michael [Nelson] and [Joel] Hodgeson. (Joel was the first host + show creator, and Mike was the second host who closed out the original series run.)

"40F5WRD5" [Batcomputer archive] - l33t for the 4 of Swords, a card in the Minor Arcana for rest and restoration; since the archives and file names are randomly generated when not prompted otherwise with manual input, an otherworldly force seems to be saying 'get some damn sleep Bruce'.

[John's ringtone] - I know, TT always has everyone's phone on silent. I don't care. Bruce's ringtone for John is "Mack the Knife", a song about a violent mobster, played on a carnival organ. Chosen because 1) John probably loves that song, 2) I thought it was funny that it has the line "the shark bites - with his teeth, dear - when he shows them pearly whites" and how well that goes with John's A+ dental care... 3) TeamFourStar made jokes in their BtTTS S2 playthrough about having "a special ringtone whenever John calls [them]"…why would I not carry that through? They did get me to where we are now, you know. ;)

Ryde - the in-game stand-in for Lyft, the not-a-taxi service.

Ch. 5: The Wheel Still Spins on the Upturned Chariot

[chapter title] - a reference to 2 tarot cards in the Major Arcana. 1) "The Wheel"/"The Wheel of Fortune", which is a sign for continuous cycles, inevitable fate, and usually indicates good fortune and pre-destiny when the card is presented upright. When reversed, it can signify bad luck and an unfavorable fate. 2) "The Chariot", symbolizing a path forward to success, confidence, and overcoming obstacles; when reversed, it's stands for recklessness and lack of direction/control. 3) As the Chariot is upside down, John's original plans have been upended and everything goes out of his control in a chaotic situation. He’s essentially "not at the driver’s seat" for a little while. "The player" decides which direction to take the wheel in - either letting him lash out violently and send him on more solitary and dangerous path, or satisfy his need for stability by embracing his new relationships. The Chariot is always upturned here, but whether the wheel spins forward or backward is up to "the player's" decisions.

511 N. Blade Street - this one's a bit messy. 511 = V I I, or VII in roman numerals, which =7. The tarot cards are traditionally numbered in roman numerals. North, for pointing upright, and "blade" is synonymous with "sword". So it’s the "7 of Swords", in the upright position – referring to deception and trickery, which is of course what's going on in regards to who Ian 'Nito' Coggs really is…

Apt 1005 - even muddier, but this is referring to the 10 of Swords, which is for betrayal and backstabbing, hinting at the true motives of "Ian" | Clayface. 10-0-5, so 10 and the l33t for "OS" = 10-o-S.

900 Wanda Way - Both a pun on the phrase “wander away” and the 9 of Wands in the Minor Arcana, which alludes to pushing forward to achieve victory. A good allusion for a clinic, me-thought.

400 Wanda Way - The 4 of Wands in the Minor Arcana stands for community, another good allusion for a clinic.

Karen McCarthy - named after the most stereotypically uptight narcissistic asshole the masses have agreed to call 'Karen', and both McCarthyism and another famous lady with the surname McCarthy. Because I wanted you to know the second you see her name that she is *horrible*. (Funny, though, there's 2 senators named McCarthy that are pieces of shit and one infamous quasi-celeb who's the face of the anti-vax scene. Is it just a cursed family name?)

Ch. 6: The Tips of Our Swords

[chapter title] - Refers to the 4 of Swords card in the Minor Arcana, as the "swords" are alluding to the four active members in the Batfam - Bruce, John, Tiffany, and Iman - who work together on the case[s]; you can infer this title to a presentation not unlike the Musketeers joining swords to affirm themselves as a team, as they all gather together. The reversed reading of the card is for restlessness/stress in Bruce's case, and the clear signal of the universe to tell him to relax, and the reading when presented right-side up is for the break it gives to "the player", with the homey atmosphere of the Batfam spending time together. Either reading is completely valid here.

○ BUT, as Alfred is a non-active member of the Batfam, we could also say that 5 of Swords is also at play, right-side-up for the fighting and resentment with Alfred, and John's hinted budding conflict with him; and 5 reversed for Bruce's attempts at making up with Tiffany. If one illustrated the gathering of our four heroes joining swords like the musketeers over a breakfast table, then Alfred would be sitting drinking tea, standing as a symbol of the Ace of Cups, signifying new emotions or stirrings of feelings.

○ If we stretch the metaphor eeeven further, the title can also be a loose reference to the Sword of Damocles; threats always hang above the heads of powerful people, and in this case the looming threat of Black Mask and the mysterious assassin, ever-present in Batman's world…

Dr. Brandi September - literally "Sword" and "Seventh Month", alluding to the 7 of Swords, hinting to deception and manipulation at play.

"I was tired of the soup du jour" - a shameless Devo reference; a tiring of the routine/everyday. "I'm tired of the soup du jour - I want to end this prophylactic tour - ain't nobody around me - understands my potato - I'm only a spud boy - lookin' for a real tomato" - DEVO, "Mr DNA/Smart Patrol".

Motel 11, Augury Road - "augury" is another word for crows; as a gathering of crows can be a method of fortune-telling, this a reference to a gathering of 11 crows, which when seen is supposed to be indicative of disguising or revealing secrets.

Ch. 7: Drawing the Strings

[chapter title] - meant to allude to John aligning the strings connecting the people and crimes together, like an old-fashioned way of mapping clues; can be interpreted as these crime-strings on the proverbial board being drawn closer together, marking the center of the "web" as the Court of Owls

Frieda Baast - Frieda, an allusion to the Norse goddess Freya, who rode on a chariot driven by cats, and Baast, the Egyptian goddess who had the form of a cat. It makes it really obvious who was staying at the Motel 11, huh?

room 14 [Selina Kyle's motel room] - a reference to the 14th tarot card, "Temperance", which when upright is meant for choosing the middle path between choices. This is meant to reference Selina herself, currently at a secret, personal crossroads and being in "the middle"; John can influence her hidden choice by either making her think about what her potential job's employers are really aligning themselves with, or taunting her into how she can't leave her old life behind. (Whether John is violent or not doesn't completely impact her choice, but it does impact how they interact later if Selina winds up in the hands of our villains.)

Oracle, Spoiler, Batgirl, Spectrum - Batman's had a lot of non-Robin sidekicks in comics, including Batgirl (originally Barbara Gordon), Oracle (Barbara Gordon, post-Batgirl-forced-retirement and computer hacker extraordinaire), and Spoiler (Stephanie Brown, who "spoiled" crimes). As a fan of Ao3/tumblr's @fractualized 's own Telltale Bat-verse fics (the "Release John Doe" series), I added in the reference to "Spectrum", which Tiffany became in lieu of "Robin". A wink from one fan-writer to another! ;)

"I'm steppin' out, my dear - to breathe an atmosphere […] - that simply reeks […] with class" - John's singing a classic Fred Astaire hit, "Top Hat, White Tie, and Tails".

Eric, Jerome, Jeremiah, Jack [John's "Normal name" ideas] - As this story allows "the player" to pick a name for John to use in place of his own, you can pick between some classic and modern references to Joker's alternate personas over the years. Eric White Border (edit: goddang it that's what i get for looking at White Knight while writing this up and never double-checking), Joker's regular persona in the New 52 Batman comic line; Jerome or Jeremiah of the Gotham TV series, both of which are different aspects of Joker's personality through media, with a more modern gritty version in Jerome (think Heath Ledger's Joker) and a more modern take on Joker's sociopathy in Jeremiah; and last but not least Jack Napier, the first official name of Joker circa Tim Burton's Batman (1989), and the one most popularly used (BtAS and other comics throughout the years since use this name). "The player"'s choice doesn't impact the story or the way John acts, but it does give a surprise feature later. ;)

Matt Chaney - Aka, "Clayface", Matt has both new and old elements in his name alone. Matt, for Matt Hagen, the most well-known/used of the Clayface personas, and Chaney, for classic film actor Lon Chaney, AKA the man of a thousand faces. This Clayface is an aspiring actor who is psychologically dependent on Moddy to keep him handsome after a terrible car accident left his face marred. He uses his excellent makeup skills and acting to infiltrate the False Face Society, and double-plays them and the Court of Owls.

Root / MuSec - stand-ins for Vine and TikTok, respectively. "MuSec" is both a play on the word "musac" (the word for 'elevator music' and generic produced music you hear in fake stores and the like) and the mish-mash of the words "music" and "second", referencing the short length of the videos. "Root" was used in a prior story (At the Brink of Midnight), and acts as another "natural network" type name akin to Vine; though I do recognize "Vine" might have come along as part of the phrase "I heard it through the grape-vine". I have a feeling some Aussie fans might find the fake-Vine name funny...or just awkward.

Ch. 8: It Had to Be You

[chapter title] - A reference to the classic crooner song, "It Had to Be You"; specifically, the one that flows through the first scene is a cover done by Frank Sinatra, meant to align with other Bat-media's use of Sinatra where Joker and Batman are concerned. The Arkham games got his famous "Under My Skin", and another crooner's "Only You". Batjokes fans/content creators have also used "Strangers in the Night" for their relationship. I wanted to present one that would feel at-home in the TellTale universe regardless of what route you end up with, and what's more perfect than a song about finally discovering the love of your life? The song fits them to a tee, in my humble opinion…

Estella Art Gallery - Selina's art gallery, mentioned previously to have been the site of a Talon attack. "Estella" translates to "star", for the tarot card "The Star". When presented upright, it means hope and rebirth; this card can be presented after a disaster, such as an event like "The Tower". Normally, it can be interpreted as a card to show a phase where you have trust and faith in yourself and the universe. Selina was turning over a new leaf and enjoying her new life until the Owls found out who she was.

Mrs. Bollard - "bald-headed person"…this poor woman got her wig snatched as John stole Bruce from her on the dance floor. xD

"I knew today's horoscope was bullshit" - a nod to earlier, where Roman mentioned his horoscope when visiting Bruce; "a friend will help you out of a tight bind." Not that it was mentioned like that... still! I wonder what today's was? "You will be fortunate in your business endeavors"? Ha ha ha! But really, the horoscope is another nod to the theme of foretelling the future, as it's a popular method to try and see how your day, month, season, or year will be. Not that I know what sign Roman is… *thinking face*

[Achievement Unlocked: Batman Who Laughs] - John showing up in the Batman cowl was not only funny, but a direct nod to the Batman Who Laughs. The TT games had Batman comic titles often used as Achievements, so I figured I'd put in some…

[Achievement Unlocked: Batwoman Rises] - Iman helping the team out in the spare Batman suit is naturally a nod to Batwoman, and something I wanted to do for a while. ;D

Brighella - a Venetian mask taken from a play now used to depict a cunning and mischievous servant. Originally the mask was used to depict a greedy villain character.

The Two Gilded Cups - A restaurant in-story that references "The Two of Cups" tarot card, a card representing unity, partnership, and two becoming one. When upright, it's a card that can reference lovers or a new relationship; when reversed, it can represent broken communication, imbalance, or tension. As such, the couple who were seen at the restaurant - Sonja Townsend and her husband - are established lovers who work together for the Court of Owls, but those who were really there are Jackie Lant and Matt Chaney, who are in an imbalanced relationship. "Gilded" implies that "The Cups" are covered unnecessarily with gold - this is both in reference to Jackie and Matt's disguise of the Townsends and the truth about their relationship. Matt's lies are covering for his narcissism and selfishness, and ultimately is the only thing holding him and Jackie's relationship together.

Moddy - A fictional body modification clay-mud-putty that's a product of Janus Industries, this makeup is the favorite of Matt Chaney and the reason we can call him "Clayface". Like the traditional Clayface, Matt is in dire need to have his fix of the makeup, despite what it does to him - as John notes, it leaves a weird burn-like sensation, and since Matt has deep scar tissue he covers every minute of every day, it's made the skin damage worse.

"You’re really committed to drowning in that river" - A riff on the old joke "denial ("de Nile") isn't just a river in Egypt".

"Your words are honey in my ears, but my brain always turns it into bitter wax" - In Futurama, Fry has a silly line of “Sweet words! Sweet words that turn into bitter wax in my ears!”. It always had the potential to be a great metaphor if the words were twisted around! :) Plus, I mean, come on, this is a totally On Brand™ thing for John to say!

Ch. 9: Strength in Numbers

[chapter title] - Referencing the Strength card, for bravery, compassion, and inner strength; the title also doubles as a play on “different kinds of strengths”. Strength is the will the expose your truths. Strength is finding compassion to help others. Strength is staying true to your convictions in the face of opposition. We see all different kinds of strength on display here.

○ It can also a reference to the different partnerships going on, with Jackie joining the team (unofficially), Bruce and Tiffany going off to tackle the other half of our case, and John and Iman’s team-up. :)

"[John] could barely hear it over the tinny electronic whistling tune emitting from his own phone, telling him the person on the other end was a mystery" - this is referencing an old tumblr joke! Yes, John has the “It is a mystery” tone on his phone for unknown calls…complete with the little (:o) ghost icon.

CUP5K1NG [license plate] - Referring to the King of Cups card, a card portraying emotional balance and compassion. As it's not written as "K1NGCUP5", it implies it's a reversed card, signifying there's manipulation and instability at work. Even though Matt doesn't own the car this license plate belongs to, it's definitely tied to him since it's his getaway ride, and thus hints at what's to be revealed in his and Jackie's hotel room.

Aylin Street - the name "Alyin" translates into “moon halo; one that belongs to the moon”, thereby being a reference to the Moon card, representing mysteries and illusions. An investigation is afoot!

“Looks like I’ve got the red light, kiddo.” - In stage acts, the red light is to indicate to the performer their time on stage is up. Generally, it’s reserved for comedians who either overrun their time or are losing the audience. John's joking that he's been given the red light to exit stage left (but not persued by bear).

"What’s the ‘G’ for?” - Iman's 'Gotham Construction' jumpsuit has a G different from John's - it's shaped more like a gear. This is another Mystery Science Theater reference, in particular the logo for Gizmonic Institute, the company/labs that "employed" original host Joel and the mad scientist Dr. Forrester (and his assistant, TV's Frank), who started the experiments of forcing a guy and his robot friends to watch reeeally bad movies. The result was 12 (soon to be 13!) seasons of some guys making hilarious and very memorable jokes at said bad movies' expense. Does this reference mean that Bruce is just as huge a dork as I am, or does it mean that MST3K is real in this universe?! You make the call! ;D

○ …if you read 'What's the 'G' for?' in Invader Zim's voice, that's also valid. Especially if you followed it with “I dON’t know!” in GIR's. (There is no cringing here! We openly embrace our childhood silliness!)

MasterOfClayFace / #IdW3arThat [Matt Chaney's social media login] - naturally Matt is so far up on his high horse that he considers himself a master of clay work…and of course his nickname is ClayFace! His password is a joke in and out of canon, being a riff on Lemon Demon song: “A mask of my own face – I’d wear that” ~ Lemon Demon, “Mask of My Own Face” [Nature Tapes].

3055 [Jackie Lant's InstaPic followers] - According to research, the average Instagram following is about 1000, so Jackie is above average popularity. Anything above 10k is usually(?) celeb status. The number 3055 is meant to be broken up and turned partially into l33t, to make 3-O-S-S, or 3 of Sword[s]. The 3 of Swords card in the tarot signifies heartbreak and grief, stemming from betrayal, loneliness, and rejection. Jackie experienced all three of these heart-piercing swords during her return to Gotham, with Matt basically forcing her into isolation, betraying her trust, and rejecting her input and values in favor of his own; but she didn't really know it until the truth was exposed.

8055 [Matt Chaney's InstaPic followers] - similarly, Matt's follower count is meant to be 8-O-S-S, or the 8 of Swords card. It signifies self-victimization and imprisonment. In particular, the card shows a person restrained and trapped, but their helplessness is a show…they could choose to get out, if they got over themselves. Matt is incredibly selfish, so it comes as no surprise that he will play the victim card.

#OnlyInGotham - Another tumblr reference! I love the @hashtagonlyingotham blog! ( ^3^)

The Herold Rite's Theatre - A play on the word "Hierophant": Herold, like “herald (ruler/champion)” and Rites, like “sacred rites”. In the tarot, the Hierophant card represents following tradition and values, which for the Owls is their very core. This is basically a big ol' hint that Iman and John are heading into Owl territory, but also foreshadows the religious undercut of The Court and Reverend Sebastian Overfield's role.

"a familiar red-pyramid-and-floating-eyeball" [graffiti] - A reference to my icon! ;D You think I can't self-promo?

trading cards [found in theatre storage] - In the Theatre, John finds "old promotional trading cards for an old sci-fi film with big-brained aliens". This is a shameless and loving reference to Tim Burton's 1996 film Mars Attacks!, of which my AO3/tumblr icon and username is lifted - the movie was based on a series of Topps trading cards from the 1960's, and had it's own set of cards with movie scenes and behind-the-scenes pictures (and summaries of events) printed for the movie! They also used them as promotional tools, and if you get very lucky purchasing a copy of the old single-issue comic books from the 1995 Mars Attacks run from Image Comics, you can get a promo card.

https://bit.gt.gd/S3272019F?=RO - Originally "gd" stood for a derivative of Google Drive, but I can’t look at it and not see “get good”. The "S3272019F?" is meant to stand for "Started: March 27, 2019 Finished: ?". I can't believe I started uploading the story in March of 2019! Man, 2020 really messed with my sense of time…

Ch. 10: Tantara Bounces Off of Moonlit Walls

[chapter title] - "Tantara" is defined as "the blare of a trumpet or horn", as seen in the Judgement card, which stands for self-reflection as well as reckoning, and can indicate rebirth. There's of course another reference to the Moon card, for intuitions and the unconscious being. Then what are the "[Moonlit] Walls"? Well, they're the part of the only Major Arcana tarot card to represent a building - they are the walls of the Tower, symbolizing destruction and disaster. When all the cards' meanings are put all together, this alludes to a time of discovery among absolute disaster.

○ Expanded, the whole title is a reference to both forms of Judgement occurring – self-reflection and change are happening with Bruce and John as their mysteries and anxieties are finally put to rest: John is undergoing his final "rebirth", seeing his reality clearly in Arkham’s padded cell; Bruce seems to finally come to terms with working with Tiffany, as his fear of not being able to protect her comes through with her showing she's able take care of herself and prove she's a true asset to the team; and the Court of Owls finally comes to light, with Matt Chaney, the Talon Adam, and the Talon Sonja Townsend finally showing their real motivations.

○ We can also interpret the title as a reckoning coming for the Owls, who have long been obscuring the truth of their deeds and whose true motives have been murky. They've built their own tower of disaster with bricks of delusion, and judgement's horn is blaring a warning through their hallways…

"X-Sharp Manufacturing" - a reference to the 10 of Swords (hence the "sharp"), the tarot card for betrayal, backstabbing, and defeat. For Bruce, there is disaster here beyond his control that ends in a [temporary] defeat. For Roman Sionis, owner of the small factory as part of Janus Inc., he's unwittingly walked into his own betrayal.

"Merlin's Flower Arrangements" - Merlin, a famous wizard, is a reference to The Magician card, who defines “as above, so below”… And as John is taken to a secondary location, so is Bruce. :)

"La Luna Painting" - La Luna, aka The Moon; remember, shadows can play tricks on your eye, so something’s afoot here… Aka "HEY GUYS THIS TOTALLY ISN’T SUSPICIOUS OR ANYTHING NO SIR"

Yelsnia Theater - Yelsnia is…actually a name. But searching for it shows my true hint, as it's "Ainsley" backwards. "Ainsley" derives from Scottish words meaning “alone, solitary” or “hermitage”. This is a reference to the Hermit card – in this case, it's blatantly upside down, referring to loneliness, isolation, and a general disconnection with mankind. AKA, the path Matt is on.

"the looming pillar tower" [Arkham] - A blatant representation of The Tower. It stands for impending disaster and "an upheaval of a foundation of reality". Of course, this can be taken in two ways. 1) That John has overcome/avoided the disaster of another mental breakdown. 2) That John’s foundation of his delusions - that he’ll wake up in or get sent back to Arkham for his sickness - was wrong in a realistic sense, as he’s made serious progress in managing his emotional issues, and right in an unrealistic one, where the only way he could be sent back was through an outside force, i.e. the Owls.

10210475 [inmate number] - When separated for the numeric cipher, we get 10-21-4-7-5, or J-U-D-G-E

13051420 [inmate number] - When separated for the numeric cipher, we get 13-5-14-20, or M-E-N-T

○ When put together, the inmate numbers read "Judgement", the tarot card is shown here for John's choices and character arc on display throughout this chapter. When the card is reversed, it implies a lack of self-awareness, which we can also attribute to "the player's" choices for John if they make Bad Decisions. If you simply take the word "judgement" at face-value (without involving the tarot) it also works wonderfully, applying to John's entire situation as being a trial/judgement set by a higher force.

"The prince returned to the tower" dialogue [the prophetic cell mate] - Whether the person speaking is physical or not, John notes he can hear the scratching of pencil on paper within the cell, implying a person is writing their words down like a story… “The prince,” (John Doe, alias Joker, traditionally the ‘Clown Prince’ of Gotham) “having returned to the tower” (Arkham Asylum, the foundations of John's issues) “to reclaim his crown,” (assurance in himself and his reality; the completion of John's "self" with his final choices and becoming Vigilante!Joker for good) “trails after the fiend” (confronts the Talon Adam, alias Owl-man) “who's flying on wings of retribution” (core beliefs, perceived sense of justice). “The fiend’s wings are big, but the bones are brittle” (the Owl-man is imposing and persistent, but his physical "wings" are his weakness).

○ If you couple the Court of Owl's belief that G*d has written down the destinies of everyone in the world [as they are each born] with the knowledge that someone was writing down a short version of John's events at Arkham…hmmm.....

Room 11 [Iman's cell room] - The 11th card in the Major Arcana is "Justice". This can reference either 1) The just-desserts coming for Talon Adam/"The Owlman", or 2) The outcome of the player’s choice to take Iman with them or not.

11 minutes + 16 seconds [remaining time on bomb timer] - 11:16. 11/16, aka my birthday! :) I only wish I had finished Chapter 10 in time for the chapter's publishing year (2020), lol~

"Our Faith brings Perseverance, and Our Perseverance guides Justice, for Mercy to God." - The Court of Owls' beliefs circle around 3 principles bringing people closer to G*d: Faith, Perseverance, and Justice. Their belief hardens their persistence in their actions (as they are written and not guided by "Evil"), and their goals are ultimately to deliver justice where the human system failed and "Evil" prevailed in "escaping", hence the guiding of one principle to another. "Mercy to God" is what is granted by righting the injustices of the world; as G*d wrote your future down exactly, Evil can corrupt it, and once corrupted this does G*d a harmful injustice. The Court considers themselves close to G*d by "mercifully" stopping further corruption via eliminating "Evil" in all it's worldly forms…

Speaking of the 3 principles, our main Owls are meant to be "embodiments" of these in the story.

○ Talon Sonja Townsend represents Faith, driving home her belief in G*d's absolute destiny. She is corrupted by her own selfish goal of eliminating her son-in-law, but is also so by-the-book she does not think to look at the obvious double-standards of the Court, and doesn't think her underlying actions are guided by "Evil".

○ Talon Adam represents Perseverance, having fought Joker to unconsciousness, and was willing to blow up Arkham with himself still inside just to eliminate it; he is the most brainwashed, but the least corrupt in motivations, only striving to get what he feels is "justice". On the flip side of Adam is Talon Evan, who despite serious injury still appeared in Court and jumped at the chance to kill Joker and Batman, despite the Court's general appreciation of Batman; he is corrupt in personal selfishness, as he possesses no "real" faith in the Court's belief system and doesn't like others getting credit by stealing his targets.

§ ...it's also worth mentioning that the names for Adam and Evan are meant to be derivative of "Adam and Eve". In this way, it can also be seen as a parallel to The Lovers card, which one can attribute to Bruce and John. While Bruce + John are oddly harmonious and undeniably have a strong bond regardless of story paths, Adam + Evan are discontent rivals, with Adam "stealing" Evan's target and good graces with the Court, and Evan very pointedly beating up and kidnapping Batman (who Adam admires) to set up Batman's eventual Judgement.

○ Reverend Sebastian Overfield is the main representation of Justice, though he embodies all 3 principles. The Court’s belief is that their pursuit of justice – stopping Evil/chaos via deaths of criminals – overrides their own traditional sins. Because they are being helpful to G*d, granting Them mercy by righting the injustices of Evil and putting G*d’s Word back on the right path, they are in G*d’s favor. Therefore, as the leader of the Court and the one who organized everything by handing down "God's word", he is the carrier of Justice; without him, the Court would be nowhere and G*d would be shedding more tears over their ruined work…at least, in his mind. Naturally, he is the exact opposite of what justice should be. He is biased and unwavering in strict faith, as much a carrier of chaos as he doesn't want to be…

○ Of course, this is all also up to interpretation. One can interpret Adam as "justice", Evan as "perseverance", and Sebastian as the stand-in for "God", as he is the Court's ruler and is the sole person to hand down "the word of God".

"[…]if two people you normally count on for one reason or another" - Alfred made a subtle dig at John being Bruce's boy-toy. Ouch, Al'…

"[…]given it's your pet project, and all" - Even though Selina is talking about Arkham, she's making a dig at former-Arkham-resident John being Bruce's "pet", who in her eyes was Bruce's main reason for getting Arkham revitalized. :\ Man, everybody's picking on their relationship…

petrichor - The smell proceeding rain. Because it's not a climactic fight scene in Gotham city without rain.

Ch. 11: The Tolls of Justice

[chapter title] - Naturally referring to the Justice card of the tarot, this title is the same as the story title. Funnily enough, this is the 11th chapter, and the 11th card in the tarot deck. (I guarantee you I did not plan this bit… Funny how these things play out, ain't it?) The Justice card naturally stands for cause and effect, clarity, or truth; ultimately, it's a representation of karmic retribution, and what the Owls are in dire need of facing. The title overall is referring to both the [para]phrase "do not ask for whom the bell tolls, for it tolls for thee" (in the original context: a grievance over death for all out of love for community/mankind, not just one person) and the "toll" - as in cost or damage - of enacting justice. What Bruce has put himself through to become and keep being Batman, the enactor of vengeance for all those wronged in the city of Gotham, and what ultimately the Court of Owls has sacrificed - either wittingly or unwittingly - in the name of justice. It also extends to John, who for the sake of "justice" is routinely stuck in Arkham, in one way or another, and has never had a conceivably just or fair life at all - thus paying the unwilling toll opposing Bruce and the Owls. We can also extend it to Tiffany, who is making good on her work with Bruce to "pay her toll" for her own crime, with her toll being seen in a positive light as Robin, compared to what life sentence she might have been paying otherwise.

[the sword in the pulpit] - a symbolic reference to The Justice card, as the Justice card in the major arcana often depicts a sword, either alone or in someone's hand. This can also be interpreted as a reference to the Ace of Swords in the minor arcana, which is normally pointing upwards, referring to victory, truth, or ideas; when flipped, as it would be when looking at the initial depiction of the sword as a "cross", it stands for lies and confusion. The sword in the story itself is a symbol of justice, and uses snakes as the stand-in for the forces of Evil, which are destroyed by the owl making up the handle and supposedly wielding the blade.

"the skull peeking out of the knight’s helmet" [card in the box on Reverend's desk] - A very clear reference to the Death card, famous in the tarot deck. It signifies change, inevitable cycles, and new beginnings/directions. Depending on the reading, it can be interpreted as an actual death, but more often than not it’s merely showing of a life change. As this is the Reverend’s deck, it seems the last card he drew was Death… The viewer can interpret this as a reading from the Reverend into the Arkham plot, where Death is representing John’s own changes, the end of Talon Adam’s latest “cycle”, or the actual deaths that had occurred (no matter how many there are in the end). The viewer can also read this as the Reverend trying to find his own fate, the fate of Roman Sionis for his trial, or Batman’s fate. All of them are quite valid, but I feel the most accurate interpretation is that the Rev' was trying to read the future of the Court of Owls.

○ …as mentioned above, the Death card is the most overt reference to the Tarot. This way, if someone didn't piece together the weird chapter titles, the specified numbers and number-letter strings, and/or the odd names of people and places, they'd be able to double-back and see them as clues. They are put there purely as a storytelling clue for the audience. As you can tell, the tarot references increased with each chapter…almost like someone is trying to get your attention…

[the framed painting] - a reference to The High Priestess, aka card II of the tarot. This card is indicative of intuition and looking within, and can signal to mysteries at hand or a higher power at work. The pillars on the card are (hilariously enough) marked with a B and J, and are in black and white, respectively. They stand for Boaz (Strength) and Jachin (Establishment), and are meant to represent the duality of nature, good/evil, masculine/femine, etc. Naturally, both pillars are equal. In this depiction, it is both relating to “the player’s” own duality, with the ability to be flexible as Bruce and John and have both good and bad decisions play through the story, and as a strong hint to a higher power being present.

8-9-6-3 [candle puzzle] - It takes a bit to work out by sorting through the alphabetic values to each number, but it doesn’t make a complete word. On ye olde phone keypad, 1 is always null in value, so it’s always unlit in the candle sequence, and since there are 4 other numbers present we know it doesn’t count as part of the string. (If there were only 3, you could guess a year from your notes.) My idea for the “game” specs of this part would be that the key-code would be somewhat randomized, either using a specific year (if Tiffany and/or Iman are not present, this is *always* the case, as you have to utilize your background notes and the candles by yourself), a few translated letter combinations just for fun, or an occasional number-card type combo, as presented here. (In some lucky scenarios, “the player” doesn’t have to solve the candle puzzle, since Tiffany can figure out the year by herself and just call you over when she opens the door. You still have the option of looking around, though!) In this case, the values are another tarot-themed hint, using the card number first: 8-w-n-d, for the 8 of Wands, which alludes to quick actions. AKA “Get ready for quick-time events!!!”

"looking more like the king on the throne than a judge" - Meant to allude to The Emperor card, the ultimate royal symbol in the major arcana and always depicted with a king. Traditionally this symbolizes power, authority, control, etc., but when reversed it alludes to overbearingness, arrogance, and chaos. For the Owls, they would likely see themselves as the upright depictions, even when presented upside down before the person doing their reading… And here is no better example, with the Reverend Overfield taking place as the ultimate authority over the Court.

"like [Sonja] had a say in commanding the room" - Alluding to The Empress, in conjunction with Rev’s position, this card alludes to femininity, motherhood, nurturing, creativity, and/or abundance. When reversed, it stands for neglect, creative blocks, overbearing, and/or uncaring. Sonja is a good example of an overbearing mother, trying to make decisions for her child because she thinks she knows best - thus fits the reversed reading well.

[Courtroom layout] - How curious is it that I haven't referenced The Devil when we have so many opportunities? That's because I strove to show this card rather than reference it overtly. The Devil card depicts El Diablo in the upper middle, lording over the card, with two souls chained to him at the bottom. The classic depiction shows a female demon-like human on one side and a male demon-like human on the other. As such, Rev. Sebastian sits on the high bench as the judge, overlooking the courtroom, and Sonja and Evan sit beneath him, one embedded on each side of the lower bench, sitting before him rather than beside him. Naturally, The Devil card represents temptation, manipulation, and materialism (though not necessarily of physical things). There is nothing more suited to The Devil card than the Reverend Sebastian Overfield and the Talons.

Circe | Cindy Peterson - Circe was the original Black Mask's downfall, or at least serious decent into who would be Black Mask. In her origin, she was a model who seduced Roman and ended up being blamed for his poor business choices, as he completely revolved Janus Inc.'s new direction around her image, somewhat at her insistence. Roman seemed to love her, but grew vengeful when she dumped him. She was named Circe, after the witch who lured men to their doom. In this story, she plays a much less active role but ultimately still serves as Roman's downfall, though in a very different way. : she does seem to care about Roman, going so far as to hide him on her yacht, not rat him out for his overt gang activities, and even leave Gotham with him for good to run from Batman despite not being in a relationship with him for long. But Bruce is able to spin this to his advantage, openly lying that she was working for him undercover and twisting Roman's affection for her into paranoid doubt, which he eventually lashed out with and ended up being caught because of. Circe never got a ~proper~ name in the original canon, so I dubbed her Cindy. The name "Cindy" can be boiled down to “person from Kynthos” and since Circe is Greek… Well, it fits well enough!

"[…]waltzing into the danger-zone without his wingman" - It’s Top Gun's “You can be my wingman anytime”, but with ALL the homoerotic implications!

"the Degnah Club" - The Degnah Club can be inferred to be one of Roman Sionis’ clubs, or just one his False-Face Society visited on occasion, but the event that happened there is implied to have taken place before the start of the story. “Degnah” when written backwards is “hanged”, referencing the Hanged Man card. When upright, this card means sacrifice and selfless acts. When reversed, as very much implied here, it’s an unnecessary sacrifice. This is both a play on what Roman’s implying – which is likely a very violent event – being an “unnecessary sacrifice” as part of Matt Chaney’s greater scheme for the Court of Owls, and as an allusion to Matt’s fate, where his morals/good choices/old law-abiding life were thrown away for an inevitably failed pursuit.

"[Tiffany | Robin's] personal count of 13" - The 13th card in the tarot is Death, bringer of change and ender of cycles. It’s also a traditionally unlucky number. This number is the “body-count” of Tiffany’s run through the Court so far. Does it reference the end of the Court's latest cycle, or something else…?

Accompanying the Tarot, as mentioned earlier I also tied in other fortune-telling methods, with the counting of crows and reference to the zodiacal horoscope. I also threw in allusions to luck, with The Lucky Hotel and The Lot (in both name and the fact that it's a casino). This is all tied entirely around the concept of fate and being able to change it with the choices you have made or currently make as "the player". Luck itself has nothing to do with your choices and the fates you guide Bruce and John to, and it's not something "the player" can control - it's an illusion, with things seemingly lucky for our heroes having already been written in on purpose to lead to the next event. It's essentially a long, drawn-out joke.

Talons/Reverend's Owl Masks - I wanted the Talons to be set apart from the rest of the Court and have special owl faces. The Court's owl masks are as follows:

○ Talon Adam - Great Horned Owl; chosen for the owl's large size and hunting ability, as well as the protruding "horn" feathers mimicking Batman's cowl. This is the most common owl used in media. The "horns" are meant to clue the reader into the culprit early on. Adam's a Batman-fan, so he mimicked Bats' style.

○ Talon Sonja - Snowy Owl; chosen for the owl's fairly elegant feather pattern and Sonja's ~colder~ personality. Sonja had a masquerade one to show her "humane" side to prospective Owls, but always wears a full-faced mask for the rest of the Court.

○ Talon Evan - Barn Owl; chosen for it's ghost-like face and screeching call, and it's hunting skills. They sometimes are seen as bad omens. While Adam was a mysterious stalker, Evan is overtly dangerous upon appearance, in no due part to his temper.

○ Reverend Sebastian Overfield - Eastern Screech Owl; this owl is smaller than the other, but has similar "horn" feathers to the Great Horned, and a gray face. The "horns" are meant to be another a mirror to Batman, but can be considered another allusion to The Devil. It isn't the largest or flashiest owl of the bunch, but Sebastian has the most power of all the Court members.

[The "Justice" bell-toll] - traditionally, a church bell tolls to signify someone passing into death. In the Court/Church of Mercy's case, they use a bell rung at midnight to signify a complete "trial" and a carry-out of their own brand of "justice"…which also culminates in death. The "trial" shown in this chapter is a rarity, as the offenders are actually present to get a talking-to before their sentencing - generally, the Church will hold a mock-trial to decide the fates of the perpetrators…after some previous counseling with Talons and select older members. (Think of the Trial like a ceremonial conference for the majority of the time.)

Chapter 12: Ten Cheers to the World!

[title] - The act of cheering, aka toasting, is to raise a cup and drink towards someone or something in celebration or tribute. Here, it's referring to the tarot's Ten (X) of Cups, which is pretty much the best card you could pull in a reading - when upright, as it is here, it means celebration, fulfillment, and happiness! The World card is the final card in the Major Arcana, encapsulating completion, accomplishment, and harmony, all from inner and outer sources. It might seem redundant at first, but the Cups suite in the Minor Arcana is all in regards to emotions, relationships, and love; in comparison, the Major Arcana represents a journey from innocence and ignorance to wisdom and completion. So you have an emotional celebration with fulfilling relationships, and the story's path marked as complete in both a literal and figurative sense.

"An accident at Ace Chemicals" [Iman & John's convo] - Referencing the majority of Joker origins, wherein pre-Joker fell into the vat of chemicals at Ace Chemicals and survived, leading to a psychotic breakdown due to his changed appearance and/or the circumstances around to what led him to Ace Chemicals in the first place.

"the string of deaths in the Velestra mafia" [Iman & John's convo] - a ref to the former mafia/main antagonists in Batman: Mask of the Phantom that kept getting killed off one by one by the Phantom. Whether The Phantom exists in this world…we'll have to wait and see, I guess!

"an unrecoverable ‘data loss’ at the Agency" [Iman & John's convo] - not a reference to canon, but my own theory on a potential background for John being a former Agent…(see further below)

"Et tu, Peeps?" - a riff on "Et tu, Brute?", Julius Ceasar's last words as he was betrayed and stabbed to death.

"Maybe I was someone in the wrong place at the wrong time" / "someone at the right place at the wrong time" [John monologue] - Another reference to the most popular background choice, the Ace Chemical origin story, and it’s variations. Though probably lacking Batsy’s involvement, considering the timeframe…

"Maybe I was some experiment gone wrong" [John monologue] - A reference to a different author's Season 3 replacement fanfic, where John ended up being a genetically modified human/test tube baby. Unfortunately the work got deleted from Ao3??? And my bookmark is gone, so I can't name the fic… But I still remember you, Unknown Author!!! It was a fun story and I've never forgotten that twist!!!! \( >o< )/

"Maybe I was even an Agent, like you" [John monologue] - My own little theory as to why the Agency was so keen on getting him for the Suicide Squad – and why he was considered a dangerous part of the gang despite not doing too much of interest in Season 1 (even if you consider the theory that he was helping Lady Arkham get her chemicals/drugs) – was that he was part of the Agency somehow. Either an agent who screwed up on the job, a rogue agent that escaped death via Agency trap…or maybe a guy who knew too much! But it's a fun, fresh idea to bring to Joker's multi-choice past, right? (( ;w;)) <(please say yes)

hippocampus - The region(s) of the brain that primarily deals with memory.

[the photo] - I wanted to leave it up to the reader/"player" to decide what kind of pre-Arkham past the TellTale!Joker has… So whether you think the picture Iman has is a "real" photo of him or not is entirely up to you.

"[…]'you're the moon to my sun'" [John, 'paraphrasing' Bruce] - In Tarot terms, this is a reference to the Sun card, representing joy, success, and masculinity, as well as another reference to the Moon card. One can also interpret the Sun card as "success in overcoming your obstacles or fears". As the Moon card can represent inner fears and femininity, it's a fitting opposite for interpreting this romantic line. While Bruce doesn't exactly embody the "positivity" and "joy" that this card represents, he brings that feeling into John's life, and Bruce is more traditionally masculine in contrast to John. This is also an overt use of the phrase "[they're] the moon to their sun" - a romantic notion that one person, though the opposite to the other, is completely complementary, like a One True Love. TeamFourStar's playthrough of TellTale Batman: The Enemy Within had not one, but TWO mentions of the "moon to [their] sun" line, the second of which was referring to John and Bruce. This one's for you, fellas!!! ( ^3^)

○ Funnily enough, The Moon is a very broadly interpreted card. Sometimes it's not a good card to have because deception, manipulation, illusion, and mystery/confusion are all potentially at work in your life. Sometimes it's an excellent card, because it tells you examine your feelings to resolve a problem, or tells you that you aren't seeing the whole picture. The reversed of the card is often attributed to avoidance of one's problems and further confusion, but also clarity, truth, and the full view of what's going on. If John is the embodiment of The Moon in the upright position, then I say Bruce is that of the Reversed Moon…

"[…] two lovers against the world" - Another classic romantic phrase that can be turned into a Tarot reference. The original phrase is meaning two romantic partners are pitted against "the world"/external forces that threaten to tear them apart, but they are committed to each other regardless. You can't really pit cards against each other in a reading, but you can read Past-Present-Future. In which case, in story terms, The Fool is always the Past, The Lovers is the Present here, and The World is the Future. As mentioned earlier, The World represents harmony and completion - if reversed, it would mean incompletion and chaos. The Lovers card is representing a strong union being forged between two people, very often romantic in terms of the Tarot. The meaning is usually attributed to decisions in a relationship being made (whether to start a new one, or to deepen the one you have), but it can also represent people outright, as well as an indication that a new partnership/relationship is on the way. When reversed, Lovers represents disharmony, imbalance, or a loss of relationship. In our story, of course, our two lovers are representing the upright reading of the card in the Present, showing as a strong couple. As it's "against", it implies that The World is something that will be a challenge, so it's likely Reversed. Which is a pretty good representation of Gotham in general, isn't it? lol~

○ The Lovers can also be seen symbolically in chapters 8 and 9, when Bruce and John are laying opposite each other and linking pinkies/holding hands at the hotel. :)

○ John uses the romantic line regardless of whether he's a vigilante or not! If you didn't get the Best Ending, aka our Sleepover Ending, Bruce would wind up back in the parlor with John as usual, and once the rest of the fam are gone (if they were there at all), he uses it to describe themselves. In the villain route, Bruce and John converse in the Batmobile on the way back to Arkham, and John uses the line there, too. ;3c

○ Naturally, you don't really get this complete scene if "your" Bruce is with Selina in the vigilante route.

Ending Type - …it's not a tarot reference or anything specific. I just wanted to let you know that you can ONLY get the Sleepover Ending if you have Tiffany and John in Bruce's party on good terms with each other AND with Bruce.

○ You can drive Tiffy away from Bruce by saying she shouldn't be with them at the Court Battle, but also by generally not believing in her/being mean and giving a neutral reaction to her staying during Battle; she won't go back to the cave with Bruce, so you don't get a chance to speak to her directly afterwards as either character. (John can still have his conversation with her via text, and they can still end on the same terms.)

○ If you don't have vigilante!John, there's no one else to help lift the things, so Tiffy's idea is never brought up.

○ John is always simping desperate for Bruce's attention, so even if you don't treat him as well in a platonic relationship, he'll still be there for this Ending type. ;_;

○ If you have a Romanced!Selina in your party, Selina will join you in both Court Battle and the Ending as seen in this story. It'll either cause her to take Iman's place (if she is not present) or to have extra spot suddenly appear above the rest of the group. Like Tiffy, she overheats and needs more space too cool off.

§ You can also talk to her as John, and sort of makeup/say your part of the team now. (But John will still be somewhat jealous of the attention she gets.)

§ John doesn't get the emotional hug with Bruce if Selina is around - especially since she doesn't temporarily leave with Tiffany and Iman - but the conversation is almost the same.

§ Naturally you can talk to her as Bruce, too. I don't think on her options too much, but they'll likely talk about change and what it means to have this "job" and internalizing too much of their emotions/themselves.

§ If you and Selina are only friends, Selina can join you in the Court Battle, but will text you instead of sticking around.

1:06 A.M & [Clock time on Belltower in Chapter 11] - Bruce's sense of time is off, which is why he's surprised it's after 1AM and not closer to 2AM. (Can't blame him, he was unconscious for a while and a whole bunch of stuff happened.) I figured if Bruce broke out of his kidnapping ropes at 10PM sharp, and drove all the way to the GCPD, that's about 20-30 minutes in his supercharged car, if not a little less, plus with 5 minutes to escape proper. If we think GCPD is sort of a halfway point to Old Gotham/The Coventry district, it's another 15 minutes to there. So he'd arrive at the Church of Mercy before 11PM, and wait John for around another 10-15 minutes, including with all the investigating inside. The "trial" scene probably took another 10 minutes until Batman crashed it, and fight scenes seem long because of all the action going on, but by the time Bruce and co' leave, it's not 12AM yet. The bell-tower in the Church of Mercy is actually off by about 20 minutes… And what do you know, card XX (20) of the tarot's Major Arcana is Judgement, alluding to karma at work! It can also be attributed to a life change. ;D

"11:43:20PM" - this wasn't deliberately meant to allude to anything. It took the batfam about 2 minutes from the last toll to leave the church. Bells' tolling speed is varying between clocks and towers, but you can estimate about 30-45 seconds for a full twelve. If it rang at 11:40 exactly, then…ugh, this is sounding like math homework.

Epilogue:

[Still a WIP, so will be updated after it's uploaded! Shouldn't have much, though! Saay, isn't there a Major Arcana card missing? (9v9) I wonder what that iiiiis~]

So that was [just about] all of them! I had a lot of fun weaving them throughout the story this time, especially with the story's themes! AtBoM didn't have as nearly as many, so they weren't really worth mentioning before.