CHAPTER TEN: PUNISHMENT

Gotham City, October 30, 2008

A desperate scream cut through Gotham City’s dark hours before sunrise, as a young man, in his early teens, ran for his life through the alleys.

He knew he shouldn’t have done it; it was supposed to have been a simple job – all he’d had to do was watch out for the cops while Johnny’s gang held up Old Man Connor’s convenience store. Johnny wasn’t supposed to have shot the old guy; luckily, someone in the store had called the ambulance…and then…

…He came.

The very instant he’d seen that massive shadow, he’d run for his life, as the sounds of gunshots and dying screams filled the air behind him…but he just knew that he’d never be able to escape that monster..!

As if to prove his point, he ran right into a dead end. He started to turn around…and saw the massive shadow closing on him. “N-No, please!!” he wailed. “I-I’ll never do it again, I swear!! I’m SORRY!!”

Slowly, the shadow stepped into view, revealing a tall, strongly-built man, in his late thirties, with short, black hair, and cold blue eyes, clad in a black bodysuit under a black trenchcoat, which undoubtedly concealed all kinds of deadly weapons…and a menacing bone-white skull emblazoned on his chest.

Frank “The Punisher” Castle just glared at the punk, before drawing his automatic and taking aim. “Not yet, you’re not.” he snarled.

“I don’t think so, Castle.”

The young man’s eyes went wide, as he followed that sandpaper-on-glass voice to its source…and found the demonic shadow of the Batman looming over them from the rooftops.

As if things couldn’t have gotten worse; the Punisher was going to kill him, and the Batman had come to claim his soul once Castle was done..!

The Punisher scowled. “I should’ve known I’d run into you.” he muttered. “Get your own perp, Bats. This one’s mine.”

The Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Not in my city, Castle.” The Punisher just glared at him, before looking back to the punk, his finger tightening on the trigger…

Seconds before Frank could fire, a grapnel-line lanced down from the shadows, with a red-and-yellow variant of a Batarang clipped to the tip of the line, wrapping around the punk’s ankle and yanking him out of the way, as a red-and-yellow blur darted down, catching the punk.

As he touched down on the ground a safe distance away, Robin looked up at his partner. “All yours!” the Dark Squire called out.

Before the Punisher could react, Batman dove at him, sending him flying with a kick; Frank landed hard, but rolled back up again, opening fire on the Batman, forcing the Dark Knight to somersault to the side, evading his shots, as he let fly with a Batarang, followed by a shuriken.

Frank cursed as the Batarang sliced the back of his hand, knocking the automatic out of his grip; he tried to catch it, but the shuriken hit exactly where the gun was going to land, knocking it even further away. Frank tried to draw another gun, but Batman closed on him, slamming him with an uppercut, and knocking him down with an axe-handle strike; Frank hit the ground hard, but countered with a foot-sweep, knocking down his opponent, before leaping back to his feet and reaching for a weapon…but Batman flipped back up just as fast as the Punisher had.

Frank knew that he had to end this now; drawing a grenade, he pulled the pin and threw it…

Batman reacted instantly; drawing another Batarang, he threw it with perfect accuracy, before covering himself with his cape, as Robin did the same, shielding himself and the perp.

The Batarang split the grenade in half, detonating it, engulfing half the alley in a fiery blast.

For a moment, only silence remained…before Batman and Robin stood up, their flame-retardant capes having done their job, shielding them from the blast. Looking around, Batman’s eyes narrowed as he realized that they were alone.

The Punisher was gone.

Turning around, Batman saw that the almost-victim was in tears. “That’s it, I’m out, man!” he wailed. “I’m never doin’ nothin’ for the gang, again! It ain’t worth it!!”

Robin chuckled. “Well, looks like we’ve got one less crook to worry about.”

“And one more serial-killer.” Batman answered flatly.

“Well, he’s not like any we’ve gone after, before.” Robin said. “Castle actually goes after bad-guys, like we do…”

“We don’t kill.” Batman said coldly, before drawing his grapnel-launcher, and firing it, pulling himself up to the rooftops.

After cuffing the perp and leaving him where the Gotham PD would find him, Robin followed him to the rooftop. “So, what do we do?”

“Continue patrol as normal; Castle goes after the same targets we do. Without knowing his specific hit-list or kill-zone, maintaining our current patrol is the best way to locate him.” Batman answered. “If Castle gets the drop on you, withdraw. If you spot him, do not engage; notify me and wait for me to arrive.”

“Don’t worry; with the heat he’s packing, probably half of Gotham PD will want to stay clear of him.” Robin quipped. “See you at the Cave.” With that, he fired his own grapnel, and swung off, while Batman darted into the shadows, resuming his patrol.

XXXXXXXX

Xavier Institute

The afternoon sun was high in the sky by the time Anita returned to the Institute from school, several minutes ahead of the others. After depositing her texts in her room, Anita walked back downstairs, to quickly grab a glass of juice before heading back upstairs to take care of her assignments.

‘Assignments.’ The level of difficulty in those menial scholastic endeavours was laughable…but, then again, after being taught by someone as brilliant as her Papa…what else was there?

As she walked into the kitchen, Anita found Tina there, who’d likely had the same idea. “Oh, hey, Anita.” Tina greeted.

Anita returned the greeting with a pleasant smile and a nod. ‘No severe altercations today, I trust?”

Tina shook her head. “No, nothing happened.” she answered. “Well…nothing we’re not used to, anyway.”

Anita arched an eyebrow quizzically, prompting her to continue. “That girl Adrienne just made a few comments at lunch, that’s all.” Tina continued…before smiling slyly. “But don’t worry; between myself and the others, we told her off.”

“Good girl.” Anita said, as she moved to the fridge and poured herself a glass of juice, before heading out of the kitchen.

As she stepped out of the kitchen, Anita saw Piotr, the newest member of the Institute, sitting in the easy chair in the living room, holding a pencil and the notepad that she’d seen him with, these past few days; after the Genosha incident, Professor Xavier had extended an invitation to join the Institute to both Piotr and Illyana, which the Rasputin siblings had accepted. Presently, both Piotr and his sister were receiving instruction in English, with Piotr planning to write his high-school equivalency exam in the summer. “Rasputin.” Anita greeted.

Looking up, Piotr smiled politely. “Greetings, Miss LeRoux.”

Anita slowly smiled. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Kal around..?”

“Superman is working on project in his room.” Piotr answered, as he continued to scribble on his notepad.

“What kind of project?” Anita inquired; Piotr only replied with a shrug, before continuing to scribble. Her eyes narrowing warily, Anita glanced at the notepad. “What exactly are you doing?”

Piotr looked embarrassed. “Oh…is nothing…”

Frowning, Anita chanted a soft levitation spell, magically yanking the notepad out of Piotr’s startled hands and into hers, as she started to leaf through it…

…and found a perfect artist’s rendition of the Institute.

Anita’s eyes momentarily widened. “You’re…an artist?”

Piotr lightly blushed. “I…draw, sometime.”

As she continued to leaf through the notepad, Anita found numerous beautiful illustrations of landscapes. “These…are rather good…” she said softly. Turning the page, she was mildly surprised to see various illustrations of the X-Men and the Justice League.

Cyclops firing an optic-blast…

Phoenix unleashing a pulse of psychic fire…

Nightcrawler vanishing in a cloud of brimstone, and reappearing…

Batman leaping out of the shadows, a Batarang in hand…

Superman and Power Girl flying side-by-side…

Piotr had captured them all on paper, portraying them masterfully.

Anita quickly realized that her off-hand compliment didn’t even come close to doing Piotr’s talent justice. “This is…exquisite work…”

Piotr lightly smiled. “Thank you.”

As she flipped to the next page, Anita found illustrations of the Acolytes next; she saw Sabretooth, his claws and fangs bared for a pounce; she lightly chuckled as she glanced upon Pyro, laughing insanely, his flames billowing from his hands; Quicksilver, as expected, was a silver blur of motion, never ceasing.

Magneto and her father were drawn on opposite pages, with Lensherr drawn in uniform, his face obscured by the shadows of his helmet, leaving only his eyes visible in a sinister manner. Her father’s illustration was just as menacing, as he stood with his cloak billowing, a mystic force-bolt at the ready, his eyes glaring out from the paper…

Piotr must have noticed her frown. “Those two were inspired by ‘Yana; she thought both Magneto and Doom were very scary, so I drew them as she might see them.”

“I suppose I can understand.” Anita conceded…before she smirked. “With regards to my father, however…Illyana does not fear you, and you’re made of metal.”

Piotr shook his head. “It was not that; it was his eyes.”

That much Anita could understand; her father’s intent, penetrating stare, coupled with the eye-colour of his metal form, was quite unnerving, she had to admit. Even before his transformation, the stare of Victor von Doom had been enough to nearly terrify a 6-year-old Anita…

…but that was in the past; she no longer feared her beloved Papa so.

Returning her gaze to the notepad, Anita found herself slightly miffed that she had been excluded…but that faded as she turned the page, and found a perfect illustration of herself, in her uniform, her eyes narrowed in determination as she took a single stride, her mouth opening to unleash the start of a sonic scream, with a fire-bolt in one hand, and a frost-sphere in the other.

Anita glanced to Piotr, her eyebrow arched at his sheepish expression. “I suppose I should be flattered.” she commented idly, as she flipped to the next page, and found another sketch of herself, also in uniform, sitting down, reading a book, her expression tranquil. On the next page, she found another sketch of her, standing up, her arms folded, with a thoughtful expression on her face. “However…I don’t recall being asked to pose.”

Piotr’s face went crimson from his collarbone to his hairline. “During time as an Acolyte, between missions, I did not have much time to go outside.” he stammered. “On the base, I suppose you could be saying that you were…were…” He paused. “Ugh…what is word? It comes from Greek legends…”

Anita chuckled. “Muse?”

Piotr smiled sheepishly. “Y-Yes, that is word. I-I am hoping you do not mind…” His expression saddened. “Aside from first drawing, you were difficult to sketch; most of time, you looked angry…”

Anita suppressed a smile. “Well, you certainly performed well; you have talent, Rasputin…” she began, as she turned the page…and choked down a laugh at the next drawing: a crayon-based stick-figure drawing of a tall, silver man – presumably Piotr – and a woman in green – her – with a little stick-girl with blond pigtails between them, holding hands.

Piotr grinned. “That one was ‘Yana’s.” he explained. “I think she liked you.” His smile grew. “She inspired next one.”

Turning the page, Anita found a picture of herself, sitting down and smiling, with Illyana sitting in her lap as Anita read to her.

Anita was momentarily speechless at the sight of the drawing, both at its realism…and at how it had touched on her childhood desire to have a baby sister…

Quickly, Anita recomposed herself. “It is…very nice.” she replied. “However, in the future, I would prefer to be consulted before being sketched.”

Piotr quickly nodded. “Yes, of course.”

Anita’s expression became curious. “Where exactly is Illyana?”

“She is out back with Jamie and Paige, playing catch with Krypto.” Piotr answered, before he chuckled. “She is very excited about the ‘Halloween’ holiday, tomorrow.”

“I can imagine.” Anita replied, before she shuddered. “Those three will be hyped-up on candy for weeks; I don’t envy you.”

“Wait ‘till the pranks start.”

Anita promptly smiled as Kal, in jeans and a white t-shirt, walked down the stairs. “If this Halloween will be anything like last year’s, I’d watch my back if I were you.” Kal quipped.

Anita laughed. “Well, with your vision, I’m sure you’ve nothing to fear.” she cooed. “So, what exactly have you been working on?”

Kal looked wary. “Just a little research paper.”

Anita’s smile grew sly. “Our Man of Steel goes to school, does he?” she purred. “A paper on what?”

Kal frowned. “I’d prefer not to discuss that.”

Anita pouted. “I doubt you feel that way towards Alison.” she muttered. “Speaking of which, where is Blaire? I didn’t see her, today.”

“Ali had a CD recording; she’ll be back tomorrow morning.” Kal answered.

Piotr nodded. “I have not seen Professor Xavier, or Scott or Jean, either; where are they?”

“Scott and Jean were going to take the Professor to Gotham City.” Kal answered. “Apparently, after his success in treating Dr. Banner, news of his telepathic therapy got around; he got a call from Arkham Asylum to try and treat some of their patients.”

Anita looked stricken; from her Papa’s brief visit to Gotham, several years ago, she had learned that the insanity of the twisted souls sent to that institution was not to be underestimated. “Xavier is either very brave or very foolish.”

Kal managed a wry smile. “No doubt, those guys will be hard to treat, but if anyone can help them…” he began…and then he stopped, his eyes going wide. “Oh, no…”

Anita had slowly begun to recognize when Kal used his remarkable hearing; his expression would take on a distant, far-away look, which made perfect sense, as his senses could reach the very furthest corners of the globe…but rarer still were the times when what he heard or saw was truly disturbing for him.

Whatever this was, it had scared him.

“What is wrong?” Piotr asked.

“No time!” Kal exclaimed, as he dashed away, pulling out his communicator and switching it on, hailing the nearest member of the League. “Boy Scout to Warrior Princess; Black Knight requires assistance, A.S.A.P.!” As he spoke, he had already darted back into his room, donning his uniform in seconds, before flying out the nearest window at top speed, rapidly disappearing into the distance.

Alone, Anita and Piotr could only share worried expressions; whatever it was that had shaken Kal, it couldn’t be good…

XXXXXXXX

Arkham Asylum, Gotham City, a few minutes earlier

Even in the afternoon sun, the tall, spire-like Arkham Asylum seemed to exude its own darkness, as it loomed over the Atlantic from a cliff on Gotham’s south side; it was as if the psychotic evil of its inmates had seeped into the Asylum itself, creating an actual dark presence within its walls.

At least, that was what Jean felt as Scott drove the X-Van in through its gates; after taking the Blackbird from Bayville, she, Scott, and the Professor had driven to Arkham, for the purpose of consulting with Arkham’s staff about the Professor’s telepathic therapy…

…but if the residual thoughts lingering about Arkham were any indication, the Professor had his work cut out for him.

As if he’d sensed her anxiety, Professor Xavier said, “Remember, Jean, I want you to keep your mental shields firmly sealed; do not use your telepathy, not even to communicate with us.”

Jean nodded. “I will, Professor.”

Scott looked grim. “Is Arkham…really that bad?”

The Professor sighed. “I have visited Gotham several times in the past, Scott.” he answered. “Arkham is an institution built to house patients that most other institutions cannot handle; it is a home for the deeply, incurably, criminally insane.” He looked stricken. “Hearing the thoughts of any psychotic, let alone one of these troubled souls, is something that no telepath should endure.”

That statement only added to Jean’s worries. ‘Hey,’ Scott sent to her through their link, ‘remember, I’ll be right here with you.’

‘Me, too, Jeannie.’ came Phoenix’s voice from her subconscious.

At that, Jean smiled. ‘Thanks.’ she answered them both. ‘I’m going to put my shields up, now, Scott; talk to you later!’

Scott smiled back. ‘Okay.’

As Jean strengthened her barriers, she mentally chuckled. ‘I guess it’s just us, now, Phoenix.’

‘I wouldn’t have it any other way, Jeannie.’ Phoenix quipped.

After parking the X-Van and getting out, the three of them headed to Arkham’s entrance, where they met three uniformed police officers, along with an older man, in his mid-forties, with greying light reddish hair, a red moustache, and green eyes framed by glasses, clad in a white long-sleeved shirt and brown slacks, with a brown trenchcoat over it, with a badge pinned to it.

As they walked up, the trenchcoat-clad man smiled pleasantly. “Professor Xavier?” he asked, before extending his hand. “James Gordon, Gotham Police Commissioner; we spoke on the phone.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Professor Xavier answered, shaking the Commissioner’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Commissioner.” He gestured to Scott and Jean. “These are two of my students, Scott Summers and Jean Grey.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” Scott said.

“Likewise.” James replied. He gestured towards the asylum doors. “I suppose we shouldn’t keep you.” With that, they all headed into the Asylum.

The inner hallways of Arkham were just as creepy as its exterior; the brick walls were cracked, the floor tiles faded, the lights occasionally flickering, and from far down the halls, a sporadic moan of anguish broke the silence. Shutting her eyes, Jean focused hard to keep her barriers solid, to keep out the waves of utter insanity that were coming from the patients locked in their cells…but those twisted thoughts were utterly corrosive…

‘Hang in there, Jean.’ Phoenix sent to her. ‘It’s only for a little while.’

As they walked past numerous cells, the Professor’s expression turned curious. “Commissioner, I am curious; how exactly did you find out about my sessions with Dr. Banner? I wasn’t aware that my results had been published…”

“They weren’t.” James confessed. “Nick Fury’s an old war-pal of mine; he mentioned that if you could turn the Hulk around, maybe you could help with some of the crazies we have to deal with.”

Scott arched an eyebrow. “You knew General Fury?”

“From back in Desert Storm.” James answered. “I was with the Marines at the time; Fury was in charge of the air-strikes.”

Jean managed a light chuckle. “Well, we won’t hold that against you.”

James also chuckled briefly, before his expression turned grim. “The bottom line, Xavier, is that, for a lot of Arkham’s inmates, even extreme therapy doesn’t work; Arkham has the highest break-out rate in the country, and we have a lot of die-hard, professional crazies here. Even with Batman, and more recently, the Justice League, to even the odds, Gotham PD is stretched tight; if there’s any way to cure some of these lunatics…”

“You don’t need to explain, Commissioner.” Professor Xavier answered. “Which patient did you want me to treat?”

James looked truly grim at that. “It isn’t any of the inmates out here.” he answered, as they came to a large, ten-inch-thick steel door, with two guards keeping watch. “This is where we keep the hardcore crazies; the kind of criminal psychotics the likes of which I hope none of you ever have to see.” James explained. “We’ve come to call this wing of Arkham ‘the Rogues’ Gallery.’”

Jean suppressed a gulp; the toxic thoughts radiating from beyond that door were almost enough to make her physically sick. “What kind of patients are they?”

James closed his eyes. “The worst.” he said softly. “We have a former university professor with a gas that induces utter terror in anyone who breathes it and absolutely no sense of right and wrong; we have a lady capable of manipulating plant-life who has a serious hate on the human race enough to make that Magneto guy look benevolent; we’ve got a guy with an IQ in the 200’s who’s obsessed with riddles, and God help you if you get one wrong…and that’s just to name a few.”

Jean was silent at that, along with Scott, and even the Professor. “And the one we’re here for?” Scott asked.

“The worst of them all.” James answered. “He’s broken out more times than all the others put together; Arkham had to invent an entirely new category just for him.” His expression turned truly grave. “We’re at our wits’ end with him, Xavier; we don’t know what else to do.”

The Professor nodded. “I’ll do what I can.” he answered. By then, the massive locks on the huge door had opened, allowing them to head inside.

The Rogues’ Gallery, at first glance, didn’t appear to be much different from the rest of Arkham…except for a noted increase in the intensity of the psychotic thoughts. Jean scrunched her eyes shut, trying to keep them out…and then opened her eyes, as she felt Scott give her hand a reassuring squeeze. Jean smiled at him, appreciating the gesture immensely…and then cringed, as she felt a particularly evil mental presence…radiating from the door at the very end of the corridor…the one they were walking towards…

“What are you Flat-Feet doin’ with my Puddin’?!”

That female voice, high-pitched and with something akin to a New York accent, echoed from the cell on the right-hand side of the cell they were heading to. “Who was that?” Jean asked.

“Harleen Quinzelle, A.K.A. Harley Quinn.” James answered. “Originally, she was a therapist here…until our boy got a hold of her.”

“Don’t you dare talk about Puddin’ that way, Gordo!” ‘Harley’ shouted from her cell. “He loves me, and when we bust out of here..!”

“We know, Quinn; ‘you’ll be together forever and ever.’ We’ve heard it all before, after he leaves you to save his own hide.” James answered. As they came to the cell in question, James gave them a warning glance. “Brace yourselves.” he said, before he nodded to the three officers, who opened the cell doors, and then drew their revolvers, before stepping inside, ensuring that the cell was secure; once it was, they headed inside…

“Hiya, Jimbo! Long time, no see!”

That manic voice alone was enough to make Jean’s hair stand on end…but the sight of its owner was far more unnerving.

The inmate in question was sitting on the floor behind a pane of bulletproof glass, clad in white pants and a white straitjacket over his lean frame. His skin was bleached completely white, and his short hair was a dark green. His eyes were completely red, and his lips were twisted into an unnatural smile…but that smile did nothing to mask the waves of pure insanity that were rolling off of his mind, like waves from a stormy sea.

“Charles Xavier,” James said, “meet the Joker.”

At that, Joker’s eyes widened in surprised interest, before he let loose a chilling laugh. “Well, whaddya know! Chuck X himself, right at my door!” the fiendish clown guffawed. “Don’t I feel special!”

James’ eyes narrowed. “Laugh it up, clown,” he muttered, “because, with any luck, you won’t be laughing much longer.”

“Aw, Jimmy, don’t tell me you’re still sore about those whoopie-cushions I sent to that police fundraiser!” Joker pouted. “I thought that you’d have more of a sense of humour, after all we’ve been through!”

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Whoopie-cushions..?”

“Several months ago, Joker thought it would be funny to hold our annual fundraiser hostage with neurotoxin bombs disguised as whoopie-cushions.” James said, glaring at the Joker.

Joker laughed again. “I know! It was a real gasser, wasn’t it?!” With that, he burst out laughing.

Joker then turned his crazed gaze towards the Professor. “So, Chucko, what brings you to my humble abode?” he sneered.

The Professor’s expression didn’t waver. “I am here to attempt to cure your psychosis.”

The Joker was momentarily silent at that. “HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!” he burst out laughing. “Aw, Jimmy, I pegged you all wrong; you do have a sense of humour!”

James’ eyes narrowed. “This is no joke, clown; Xavier has gotten the Hulk to behave with his methods.” he snapped. “You’ve been plaguing this city for as long as I can remember; I don’t care if he has to turn your brain upside-down to get you to behave – if it puts an end to your antics, I’ve got no problem with him lobotomizing you.”

The Professor looked mildly troubled at that. “Commissioner, my sympathy for your situation notwithstanding, it has always been my philosophy that telepathically altering a person’s mind is an absolute last resort.” he interjected. “In addition, Dr. Banner expressed a desire to control the Hulk; for me to enter any mind and alter it – even one as twisted as the Joker’s – without permission is highly unethical…”

“Another voice in my head?!” Joker guffawed. “The more, the merrier, Chucko!!”

Scott half-chuckled. “Well, that solves that problem.”

Joker’s perpetual grin twisted into a sneer. “So, you actually think you can ‘fix’ me, eh, Chucky?” he mocked. “That ought to be good for a few laughs.” He sighed. “Pity I can’t stick around to see it.”

James’ eyes narrowed. “Last time I checked, clown, you’re not going anywhere.”

Joker’s smile turned truly evil. “Plans change, Jimmy.”

At that, the lights suddenly dimmed, as they heard the telltale sound of the sheet of glass dropping…followed by the maniacal laughter of the Joker, as he bolted out of his cell, just as the emergency lights came back on.

Commissioner Gordon and his men quickly drew their firearms. “This is Gordon; we have an escapee in Block 13; lock down the building!!” James ordered into his radio, as he and his men ran after Joker. At a nod from the Professor, Scott and Jean ran after the escaped psychopath, with Scott firing his optic-blasts, but the Joker dodged each and every blast, evading the last shot just enough to shred his restraints, allowing him to rip free of his straitjacket.

The two guards at the entrance to the Rogues’ Gallery were frantically trying to close the door, but Joker leapt at them, feet-first, and sent them both flying with a double-heel-kick, knocking the door wide open, as two large, burly-looking guys in clown suits hurried in, brandishing automatics. “Ah, Punch, Judy, right on time!” the Joker crowed. Glancing back to his pursuers, he grinned evilly. “You know, I just don’t think it’s fair to exclude all my pals from our little party!” he laughed. “I think it’s time for some real laughs!” And with that, he moved to the main control console next to the door, and entered the command to open all the cells…

…and then a fair approximation of all hell broke loose.

XXXXXXXX

A few minutes earlier

The Gotham night was quiet for once as the jet-black van pulled up outside the gates of Arkham Asylum, as Frank Castle glanced towards that festering hell-hole, waiting for that psycho clown to make his move.

After his little run-in with the Bat, Frank had leaned on several of the local scumbags to get the low-down on what was happening; several minutes and a few missing fingers later, one scumbag had blabbed that the Clown Prince of Crime – his words, not Frank’s – was planning on busting out of Arkham, and that he’d supplied Joker’s two goons with the hardware they needed to fry Arkham’s power-grid just enough to cause the clown’s cell to short out.

Frank had read the dossier on the clown; he was surprised that laughing-boy hadn’t gotten the death-penalty…but then again, between working the psycho-excuse and busting out before getting to trial, Joker hadn’t really been in the system long enough to get a verdict.

Well, that stopped tonight. If the Bat didn’t have the stomach to put that laughing freak out of everyone’s misery, he’d do it.

As he loaded a fresh clip into his automatic, Frank reviewed his plan; wait for the clown to make his move, and then move in and pop him while the guards were distracted, and maybe pop a few more of the crazies in there while he was at it, if he was lucky.

You didn’t get sent to Arkham if you were innocent; Joker might have been the worst one, but all the inmates were evil, through and through. They wouldn’t be missed.

Suddenly, the alarm began to sound from Arkham; the clown was making his move.

Gathering the last of his gear, the Punisher darted out of his van, and darted towards the Asylum, vaulting over the fence and making his way towards the east side, closest to where the clown would be making his escape; one small plastic charge and he’d be inside and kicking tail.

Had he held back just another second, he might have seen the twin blurs darting across the sky…

XXXXXXXX

Minutes after getting the signal from the Watchtower, Superman had flown towards Gotham at top speed, meeting Wonder Woman along the way. “Boy Scout calling Black Knight; come in Black Knight!” Superman spoke into his earpiece.

“Boy Scout, this is Red Bird; Black Knight’s a little busy at the moment.”

At that familiar voice, Superman managed a brief smile. “Good to hear you, Robin. What’s the situation?”

“Not good; the big guy caught wind of Joker planning a break-out from Arkham, while Professor Xavier and two of your pals are visiting.” Robin answered. “Batman’s already on-site, while BG and I are playing catch-up.”

Superman frowned, remembering the insane clown and his attempt to gas all of Gotham. “Great.”

“Oh, but it gets better; this is going down on the day after Frank Castle decided to drop by.”

“The Punisher??” Superman asked, slightly incredulous. ‘Brother, when it rains, it pours…’ “Is Castle on-site?”

“Not as far as I…” Robin began, but he was cut off as an explosion shook the Asylum, echoing both ahead of them and from Robin’s comm-link. “Whoops; spoke too soon.”

“Black Knight to Boy Scout.” Batman’s baritone growl came through the comm-link. “I know the Bat-Wave picked you and Wonder Woman up on radar…”

Superman managed a chuckle. “We’re here, Black Knight.”

“Castle has broken in through the east side; I want you, Robin, and Batgirl to intercept him. I’m going after Joker; Wonder Woman, I’ll need you to e-vac the Professor and his students.”

“We’re on it.” Wonder Woman agreed. “Be careful.”

“Notify me when Castle’s apprehended. Black Knight out.” With that, the comm-line went silent.

Superman smiled wryly. “Good luck to you, too, Bruce.” he said under his breath, as he and Wonder Woman flew on towards Arkham.

XXXXXXXX

As he pasted one fleeing inmate – who looked like he’d gotten a nasty case of freezer-burn – with an optic-blast, Scott glanced to his mentor. “Professor, can’t you put these guys to sleep?!”

No sooner had he said that than several escaping ‘Rogues’ suddenly dropped, out cold. “I am trying, Scott,” Professor Xavier muttered, “but the psychotic mind is a bit hardier than the normal one against telepathy…”

After telekinetically slamming several cells shut, barring several inmates inside, Jean deflected the plant-girl’s striking vines with her TK, before knocking her back into her cell with a PSI-pulse. Turning, she saw a short, somewhat-portly, balding man with a scarred ventriloquist’s dummy on his hand – a dummy brandishing an iron pipe – coming towards her. “Outta da way, broad!” the dummy spat. “Youse ain’t puttin’ me back in dat cell!”

The ventriloquist gulped. “M-Mr. Scarface, I-I’m not so sure about this; maybe we should…”

“Shaddup, Dummy; if I didn’t havta drag yer tubby behind around all the time, I wouldn’t be in this mess!” the dummy – “Scarface” – snapped, before he “ran” at Jean, dragging the ventriloquist along with him…

Seconds before “Scarface” could reach the incredulous Jean, Commissioner Gordon fired a taser-projectile at the ventriloquist, shocking him into submission, causing him to fall, out cold, where “Scarface” continued to yell at him, ordering him to get up. “Don’t let your guard down, Grey!” James shouted, as he and his men tasered several more inmates. “Every single one of these..!!”

But he was cut off as a straitjacket-clad young woman, in her twenties, with mid-length blond hair, and baby-blue eyes – arguably the most normal-looking inmate Jean had yet seen – sent James flying with a leap-kick. “Puddin’!!” the young woman – Harley, Jean now knew – exclaimed. “I knew you’d come for me!!”

The Joker just laughed. “How could I forget my little Harley?” he crowed, as his two hench-clowns peppered them with automatic fire, forcing the rest of the inmates to flee back to their cells, while James and his men pulled a janitorial cart in front of them for cover, as Jean generated a TK-bubble, deflecting bullets away from herself, Scott, and the Professor. “Now,” the Joker cackled, “what say we take our show on the road..?”

His declaration was cut off by a Batarang, which clunked solidly against Joker’s temple, before ricocheting away to knock the automatic out of Punch’s hand, and then whirling back into Batman’s hand. “I don’t think so, Joker.” came the sandpaper-on-glass voice of the Dark Knight, glaring at them from the shadows.

“Batsy! And here I thought you didn’t care!” Joker guffawed. “Punch, Judy? Say hello to our old pal!” At their boss’ command, Punch ran at Batman, while Judy brought his automatic to bear on the Dark Knight. Darting out of the path of Judy’s shots, Batman blocked Punch’s uppercut, spinning the motion into a hammer-fist-strike to the burly clown’s temple, following with a sweep-kick, buckling Punch’s knee, and finishing with a leopard-fist-strike right to Punch’s larynx. As Punch dropped to his knees, gagging, Batman drew a shuriken, ready to knock the gun out of Judy’s hands…

…but he needn’t have bothered, as a golden lasso shot from behind him, snagging the weapon and yanking it away, as Wonder Woman flew at Judy and sent him flying with one punch. “Sorry we’re late.” she apologized.

“Cute, Batso; I forgot that you don’t roll alone, anymore.” Joker snarled, as he picked up Punch’s weapon. “Well, too bad for your little chickadee, ‘cause I play for keeps – OWW!!” Joker howled as Scott’s optic-blast knocked the gun away. Snarling, Joker turned towards Scott…and smiled. “Nice shootin’, Tex.” he sneered, as he pulled a revolver out of the fallen Judy’s pocket, before stuffing it in his pocket, and then flexing his fingers for a fast draw. “Now…draw.”

Reflexively, Scott’s hands went to his shades in a fraction of a second…but Joker was just a nanosecond faster.

Pop!

Scott’s hand stopped inches from his shades…as he saw the miniature “Bang!” flag extend out from the barrel of the gun. Joker just grinned. “Gotcha!”

Scott was incredulous. “‘Bang??’”

Joker scowled. “Can’t you take a joke, kiddo?” he muttered. “Sheesh, you’re almost as big a kill-joy as Batso.”

His smile turned truly evil. “You, Junior, need to lighten up.”

Even through her shields, Jean caught on to what that sick clown was going to do..! “Scott, LOOK OUT!!”

Too late.

Joker squeezed the trigger, firing a stream of green gas, enveloping Scott in a poisonous cloud. Scott convulsed, as he started to convulse…

…and then laugh.

And laugh.

And laugh.

As Scott toppled backwards, Jean was horrified at the half-crazed expression on Scott’s face, as his manic laughter slowly went silent, his face turning up in an unnatural grin…

“Ah, music to my ears!” Joker declared, as Harley giggled. “I’d love to stay and play some more, but we have to get going! Toodles!”

Seeing Scott’s condition, the Commissioner grimaced, before switching on his radio. “This is Gordon; we need paramedics down here, NOW!!”

Instantly, Batman darted to Scott’s side, followed by Wonder Woman; drawing a mini-injection-gun from his utility belt, Batman loaded a vial of anti-Joker-toxin, and injected Scott; almost instantly, Scott’s grin relaxed, as he fell unconscious. “He should be alright, now.” Batman said.

Wonder Woman breathed a relieved sigh. “Thank Hera.”

“Ma’am, you said a mouthful.” James agreed.

Jean’s eyes narrowed. “That clown is toast.” she hissed, her hands blazing with psychic fire.

Looking around, Batman’s eyes narrowed as he saw that Joker, Harley, and his two goons had fled, before switching on his communicator. “Black Knight to Boy Scout, Red Bird, and Little Bat; the circus is in town…”

XXXXXXXX

In the east wing of the Asylum, the opening of all the cells sent a stream of inmates pouring into the corridors, as beleaguered orderlies tried to get them back into their cells…but with little luck in the face of lunatics eager to reclaim their freedom…

Suddenly, the main wall of the east wing was ripped apart by a massive explosion, as the black kevlar-clad form of the Punisher stormed through, brandishing twin automatics; sweeping the room with a quick glance, the Punisher picked his targets, and opened fire.

In seconds, three psychos had fallen, bullet-riddled, sending the rest of the crazies into a panic, as they realized that, just maybe, their cells weren’t so bad, after all; the inmates’ exodus promptly reversed direction, fleeing back into the Asylum, while the nuts closest to Frank could only cringe, as the Punisher took aim…

A sonic boom echoed through the air just as Frank fired, seconds before a blue-and-crimson blur darted ahead of the bullets, intercepting their path…as lightning-fast hands snatched each and every one of them out of the air.

With the threat neutralized, Superman’s sky-blue gaze intersected Frank’s with a glare. “I take it you’ve heard about me.” he warned.

“Yeah.” Frank shot back. “I heard you like saving people.” Without even blinking, he drew a high-powered grenade. “Well, boy-scout…you came to the wrong place.” And with that, he lobbed the explosive at Superman; Superman’s eyes widened, as he grabbed the grenade, shielding the rest of the asylum with himself…

The grenade’s explosion knocked him back a good ten feet; invulnerable or not, nobody could walk away from a grenade without at least getting a little dazed, Frank knew from experience. He was just about to go find the clown…when a smoke-grenade exploded at his feet, obscuring his view, as a bat-shaped shadow flitted across the smoke. Scowling, Frank reached for his grenades…only to find his grenade-belt missing.

“Looking for this?”

As the smoke cleared, Frank was mildly surprised that, instead of the Bat, he was looking at a 17-year-old teenage girl in a Batman-esque costume, with a yellow bat-crest emblazoned on the light violet shirt of her uniform, her scalloped cape only reaching her shins, rather than the complete shroud of her older male counterpart, with a flash of red hair spilling out of the back of her cowl.

In her hand was his grenade-belt.

Scowling, the Punisher turned to retrieve his gear from this little brat…when he was unceremoniously knocked onto his rear, as Robin, who’d crept up on him from behind, dove through the gap between his legs, his bo-staff extended, tripping him with it, and then rolling back up onto his feet next to Batgirl.

Now Frank was pissed; leaping to his feet, he drew his automatic…but the weapon was sliced apart by a deadly-accurate red ray, seconds before Superman sent him flying with a tackle, causing Frank to crash into a nearby wall. “I heard you were crazy, Castle,” Superman snapped, “but I didn’t think you were stupid.” His eyes narrowed. “I suggest you either surrender, or turn around and go home; we have better things to do than waste time with you.”

The Punisher snarled. “Like putting that clown back in his cell?!” he spat, drawing his second automatic and opening fire; instantly, Robin and Batgirl darted out of the way, while Superman shrugged off the bullets, as Frank had expected. “Why, so he can bust out, again?”

As he repelled the bullets, Superman nodded to Robin and Batgirl; moving like lightning, Robin threw one of his modified Batarangs at the Punisher, who darted aside…right into the path of Batgirl’s Batarang, which knocked the weapon from Frank’s hand. Frank tried to recover it, but Superman unleashed a burst of gale-breath, sending the Punisher sprawling.

“That’s our Blue-Boy; always gets his man!”

Superman’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face the manic laughter of the Joker, flanked by his cronies, seconds after Batman’s warning came in over the radio. “Long time, no see, Supey!” Joker cackled.

“Not long enough, clown.” Superman snapped.

Joker pouted. “Still a grouch, huh?” he muttered…before he grinned. “Let’s see what we can do about that!” With that, he took a pair of violet-coloured grenades from his two henchmen, pulled the pins, and threw them…

Robin’s eyes widened. “Joker-gas!” he exclaimed, recognizing the weapons instantly; at once, he and Batgirl threw their Batarangs at the grenades, slicing them in half before they could detonate, releasing smaller clouds of the deadly green haze. Before the gas could diffuse, Superman unleashed a burst of frost-breath, supercooling the gas, and causing it to sublimate, crashing to the ground as masses of frigid green solid.

Joker scowled. “Party-poopers!” he sneered. “You try and give people a few laughs, and this is the thanks you get!”

Snarling, the Punisher leapt to his feet, before diving at the startled Batgirl and snatching his grenade-belt away. Rolling up onto his feet, Frank drew two grenades. “I’ll give you something to laugh about, clown!!” he roared, before lobbing the explosives at Joker and his cronies.

Reacting quickly, Superman fired off another pulse of frost-breath, freezing the grenades solid, preventing them from detonating, while Joker and his goons ducked behind a corner. “Well, I’ll be!” Joker crowed. “First Chuck X, then Supey, and now Frankie Castle! Of all the days to forget my autograph-book!” His cackle filled the air. “Time to meet some of your adoring fans!” With that, he lobbed several more laughing-gas grenades down an adjacent corridor…where several orderlies were trying to get away..!

Moving quickly, Superman darted into the corridor just as the grenades started to explode; with one blast of frost-breath, he sublimated the gas, rendering it harmless. As Robin and Batgirl quickly checked on the orderlies, Superman turned back…and saw that the Joker, his cronies, and even the Punisher were gone…with only the Joker’s distant laughter echoing in his ears.

After the Asylum was secure, Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, Robin and Batgirl all met up outside, along with the Commissioner, Professor Xavier, and Jean, as the paramedics loaded the unconscious Scott into an ambulance. Jean looked stricken as she watched the ambulance drive off. “Scott’ll be okay, won’t he?”

“Batman got the anti-toxin into him right away.” Batgirl assured her. “He’ll be groggy for a while, but otherwise fine.”

Batman fixed the Professor and Jean with a stern glare. “What were the three of you even doing here?” he demanded.

At the Dark Knight’s irate inquiry, the Professor looked momentarily startled, as Jean frowned, but it was the Commissioner who broke the silence. “It was my fault, Batman; I asked for the Professor’s help.” James said. “I’d heard of his success in treating the Hulk, so I thought he might be able to do the same with the Joker.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I can understand your reasoning,” he said after a minute, “but bringing Xavier and his students here was an unacceptable risk.”

Wonder Woman frowned. “If that lunatic could be brought under control, then surely…”

Batman fixed her with a stern gaze. “You don’t know Joker like I do.” he said. “There isn’t a treatment on Earth that can make him anything other than a criminal psychopath.”

“He’s right about that.” Robin agreed. “Clowny’s not gonna go straight, anytime soon.”

Superman nodded. “And right now, we’ve got both him and the Punisher running loose.”

“I’ll put out an All-Points Bulletin on both Joker and Castle.” James said. “Between all of us, we’ll collar the two of them.”

“What should we do?” Jean asked.

Batman’s expression was stern. “As soon as Cyclops is cleared, the two of you and Xavier should head home. You aren’t prepared to deal with the Joker.”

Jean’s eyes narrowed. “I think we can handleourselves well enough to..!”

“Summers’ condition suggests otherwise.”

As Jean’s eyes widened at the Dark Knight’s statement, Batman started to walk away. “Joker and castle may still be in the area; we should sweep the surrounding blocks.”

“Agreed.” Superman replied.

Her eyes narrowing, Jean stormed after Batman. “You wait just one minute, pal! If you think we’re going to walk away after what that nut did to Scott, you’ve got another thing…coming?” As she finished that statement, she rounded the corner…

…and found nothing.

Walking over, Superman glanced around the corner, and sighed. “How did I know he was going to do that?”

“He did the vanishing-trick, right?” Robin asked.

“We so have to get him to teach us how to do that.” Batgirl added. Glancing to Jean, her gaze became sympathetic. “Look, the big bat’s grumpiness aside, maybe it would be a good idea for you to check in on Goggle-Boy, Red; at least for now, we can handle things here, so you just worry about him, ‘kay?”

Managing a faint smile, Jean nodded. “Alright.”

“We’ll notify you if anything changes.” Superman assured Jean and the Professor.

Professor Xavier nodded. “Good luck.” With that, Superman and onder Woman took to the air, while Robin and Batgirl fired their grapnels, swinging off.

As they flew, Wonder Woman’s eyes narrowed. “How could he have been so insensitive?!” she fumed. “The X-Men are our friends; does that man have no heart?!”

Superman frowned as he recalled their teammate’s behaviour. “We’ll discuss it later,” he said finally, “but right now, we need to find Joker and Castle, before they kill each other and take a lot of innocents with them.” At that, Wonder Woman nodded grimly, as they flew on, through the Gotham skies.

XXXXXXXX

Jolly Jack Candy Factory, Gotham City

After returning to one of his favourite hideouts, the first thing Joker did was change out of that tacky straitjacket and into his regular getup: a bright purple zoot-suit, with a light blue shirt underneath the jacket, accentuating the light yellow-orange tie, with an acid-spraying squir-flower pinned to the jacket, a dapper purple broad-rimmed hat upon his head, and a stylish clown’s head cane in his hand. ‘No wonder Batso’s always trying to collar me; it’s practically a crime to look this good!’ he thought with a laugh.

As he stepped out into the main part of the factory, which now served as a makeshift living-room, he found Punch and Judy sitting down, watching TV, seconds before Harley, now in her full, red-and-black, harlequin-style costume, strode into view. Seeing him, his main hench-wench instantly perked up. “So, what’re we gonna do tonight, Mistah J?” Harley chirped. “We could go egg the Mayor’s house, stick gas-bombs in mailboxes, leave flaming doodie-bags on porches, or…”

“Kid’s stuff!!” Joker roared, causing Harley to wilt. His trademark grin dropping into a scowl, Joker started to pace. “I may be a clown about town again, but we’re still back at square-one!”

That much was true; ever since good ol’ Willie “I’m-just-big-boned” Fisk had pulled out of Gotham, everybody and his uncle was trying to move in. “It’s not fair! How am I supposed to spread mirth and whimsy with so many wannabes muscling in on my turf?! It’s bad enough that Batso and Blue-Boy’s team are breathing down our necks!”

Punch smirked. “Yeah, and now we got the Punisher to deal with.”

“He’ll be making life hell for us!” Judy agreed.

Harley sighed. “Us an’ every other crook in Gotham.”

Snarling, Joker was about to tell them all to shut up, but Harley’s statement silenced him…as he started to smile. “That’s it, Harl! That’s it!!” he crowed, zipping over and planting a doozy of a kiss on Harley’s lips, leaving a blissfully dazed smile on her face, as Joker zipped away, his smile growing sly. “We still got some of that radio equipment from the radio-comedy caper?”

“Uh…yeah, boss.” Punch said. “Why?”

Joker just grinned. “Poor little Frankie hardly got a proper greeting, today.” he chuckled. “Why don’t we start off his little visit with a bang?”

And with that, his laughter echoed throughout the factory, before they started to get to work.

XXXXXXXX

After finishing their patrol, Superman and Wonder Woman met up in an apparently-abandoned part of Gotham, in front of a condemned warehouse. Looking around, Wonder Woman looked mildly perplexed. “This is where Batman wanted to meet us?”

Superman shrugged. “Well, it’s certainly isolated.” he thought aloud. “But still…”

Suddenly, a nearby trash dumpster shifted out of the way, revealing a hidden tunnel behind it, startling the both of them; Superman was particularly surprised – he hadn’t even suspected that was there…

‘Lead.’ Superman thought to himself. “Well, I guess we know why Bruce wanted to meet us here.”

Wonder Woman nodded. “I suppose so.” she agreed. With that, they both flew into the tunnel, which promptly closed behind them.

The metal tunnel stretched on for miles, extending deep underground, before opening up into a massive, multi-levelled cave…with dozens upon dozens of bats inhabiting the cave’s ceiling. The lowest level seemed to be a vehicle hangar; the level above that looked like a sort of ‘museum,’ filled with paraphrenalia from Batman’s numerous cases, Superman supposed; the next level looked to be a training facility, with the top level housing a high-tech computer system, rivalling that of the Watchtower at the very least.

As they touched down on the lowest level, Robin was there to greet them. “Hey, glad you guys could make it!” he greeted. “Welcome to the Batcave; what do you think?”

Looking around, Superman took in his comrade’s headquarters, isolated from the city he protected, devoted to his continued training and his war against crime…in short, his own subterranean ‘Fortress’. “Not bad.” Superman commented.

“It suits him.” Wonder Woman added.

With their pleasantries dispensed with, Robin fired his grapnel, rising to the top level, as Superman and Wonder Woman flew after him, touching down near the massive computer, where Batman was busily typing, with Batgirl a few feet to the side. “Any sign of Castle or Joker?” Batman asked, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Superman shook his head. “No sign of either one.” At that, Batman frowned…

“Chin up, Master Bruce; I’m sure you’ll apprehend both those ruffians in no time at all.”

At the sound of that polite British voice, Superman turned to see the tuxedo-clad form of Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne’s butler, step out of a nearby elevator. “Hey, Al.” Batgirl greeted.

With a nod and a smile to Batgirl, the 50-something balding gentleman turned his gaze to Superman. “I trust you are well, Master Kal?”

Superman smiled. “Just fine, Alfred.”

Glancing to Wonder Woman, Alfred arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, Miss.” he said. “Alfred Pennyworth, Miss..?”

Wonder Woman blinked…and then smiled pleasantly. “Diana.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Diana.” Alfred said. “Can I offer any of you a spot of tea..?”

“None for me, Alfred, thanks.” Superman said.

“No, thank you.” Wonder Woman added. To Batman, she inquired, “Are there any leads on that ‘Joker’ fiend, or that ‘Punisher’?”

“None on the Joker, so far; he’ll slip up, sooner or later.” Batman answered. “As for Castle, his patrols are similar to our own, though he appears to be focused on the Joker – when Joker pops up, we’ll find the Punisher.”

“So why’s he fixated on Clowny?” Robin asked.

“Castle’s M.O. is killing criminals.” Batman said. “Even if Castle does kill Joker, he won’t stop there; he’ll go after every other criminal mastermind in the city, along with every single criminal, and he won’t stop until he’s killed each and every one of them…no matter how many innocents get caught in the crossfire.”

Wonder Woman’s eyes widened. “By Hera, what is wrong with that man?”

As if he’d been anticipating an inquiry like that, Batman brought up a file. “Franklin Castle, former Gulf War veteran; ex-Marine, black ops.” he recited from memory. “Initial evaluations indicated PTSD; Castle refused further psychiatric evaluation. After he was discharged, Castle joined the NYPD, Narcotics Division; five years ago, a drug-bust went bad – Castle’s team killed the son of one of the larger dealers.”

Batman’s tone became somewhat soft. “Castle’s wife and children were killed in retaliation.”

“Ever since then, Castle’s waged a country-wide, one-man war on crime…and he doesn’t take prisoners.” Batman finished. “It only makes sense that he’d eventually come to Gotham.”

Alfred looked slightly sympathetic. “Poor devil.”

Batgirl nodded. “Yeah; the guy lost his whole family, just like…”

“Whatever his initial intentions were, Castle’s become no better than the people he murders.” Batman said firmly, his eyes narrowing. “Gotham will not become his next war-zone.”

Superman nodded. “We won’t let that happen.”

“Perhaps we might apprehend them both more swiftly,” Wonder Woman mused, “if we enlisted the aid of…”

“No.”

Wonder Woman frowned. “Cyclops and Phoenix are both highly skilled..!”

“They’re not trained for this.” Batman countered flatly. “Not for Castle…and certainly not for Joker.”

Sensing the growing tension – the angry glint in Wonder Woman’s eyes was a dead giveaway – Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Bruce, given that you do not currently possess any leads on the wherabouts of your quarries, perhaps a visit to the hospital is in order..?”

Batman nodded, as he rose from his seat, letting his cowl slide back, revealing the face of Bruce Wayne. “Robin and I will meet with Xavier at the hospital.” he said, standing up.

“The rest of us will continue to sweep the city.” Superman finished. “If either of those two make a move, we’ll be on them.” At that, Bruce simply nodded, before retreating to another corner of the Cave, to shed his costume and don the attire of a billionaire playboy, while Robin withdrew to another corner to do the same.

Wonder Woman suppressed a scream of rage. “That insufferable..!”

“Yeah, he’s kind of an acquired taste.” Superman agreed, as the two of them and Batgirl headed out of the Cave.

“I hear you; it took me ages to convince him just to let me sidekick.” Batgirl added. “His whole ‘my-way-or-the-highway’ philosophy can get old sometimes.”

“Ahem.”

Alfred’s calm, reasonable voice caused all three of them to stop. “I do not wish to excuse Master Bruce’s…unusual social graces,” he said, “but perhaps, for some of those that do not know him as well as perhaps I do, a bit of explanation is in order.”

Wonder Woman frowned. “I do not wish to insult you, Mr. Pennyworth,” she said, “but he has to be the most insensitive..!”

Alfred’s sad expression stopped her tirade in its tracks. “Perhaps if you knew his tale, Miss, you would understand.” he replied softly. With that, he began to tell the three of them Bruce’s story.

Superman already had the Reader’s Digest version of events, as Batgirl likely did…but hearing it from someone who’d been there was a different thing altogether.

XXXXXXXX

Gotham General Hospital

As the sun began to set over the Gotham General Hospital, Charles could only wait fretfully in the waiting room, sitting next to Jean, who was on the verge of being a nervous wreck. “Why hasn’t anyone come and spoken to us?” Jean asked.

“I’m sure Scott’s fine, Jean.” Charles assured his young charge. “Batman got the anti-serum into him almost instantly after he was poisoned…”

“Then why is it taking this long?!” Jean cried. “If the anti-toxin worked, then why isn’t Scott okay?!” Her eyes started to mist. “God…what kind of monster is that…that clown?!”

For that, Charles had no answer; he’d thought that he could at least try to treat the inmate that the Commissioner had mentioned…but the sheer insanity radiating from the Joker had nearly overwhelmed him…

“Charles?”

Turning, Charles smiled pleasantly as he saw Bruce, the son of his dearly departed friends, Thomas and Martha, walk into the waiting room, followed closely by Alfred, another dear friend, and a young man, only a bit younger than Jean, and around the same height, and of athletic frame, with short, dark hair and blue eyes, clad in a casual black suit. “Hello, Bruce.” Charles greeted.

Bruce gave him a friendly hug. “We came as soon as we heard.”

Charles nodded. “Jean, you remember Mr. Wayne, I trust?” he asked.

Jean paused. “From Lex’s unveiling party?”

“That’s me.” Bruce said, smiling. He gestured to the younger man. “This is Richard Greyson, my adopted son.”

Richard lightly smiled. “Call me Dick.” he added. His expression turning sympathetic, he added, “Hey, I’m sure your friend’ll pull through…”

“Indeed, Miss Grey; just keep a stiff upper lip.” Alfred said.

“Thanks.” Jean replied, managing a weary smile.

Charles blinked. “As much as I appreciate the visit, Bruce, how exactly did you find out we were here?”

Bruce’s smile never faltered…which roused Charles’ suspicions to no end. “I got a call from Commissioner Gordon.” he answered. “After the incident with those robots, I asked him to keep an eye out for you and your students, and to notify me if you were ever in trouble.”

Despite Bruce’s words, that statement did not sit right with Charles…and only added to the suspicion that dwelled in him since Lex’s little gala…even before that…

“Professor Xavier?” the head physician stepped into the waiting room. “Mr. Summers is in stable condition; he should be waking up, any minute now.”

Charles let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God.” he said softly. Glancing to Jean, he couldn’t help but smile at the relieved expression on her face. “Why don’t you go check on him, Jean?” he suggested, both to allow her to alleviate her fears…and to give him and Bruce a chance to converse.

As Jean hurried out of the waiting room, Charles looked to the Wayne heir. “Bruce, I heard a while ago that you were dating Elizabeth Vreeland’s daughter, Veronica; how are things between the two of you?”

Bruce’s smile became a bit forced. “Ronnie and I…we broke it off, a few months ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Charles answered. “From what I remember, I believe that Elizabeth had her hopes set on you two becoming a nice couple…”

“Veronica and I just aren’t right for each other.” Bruce said.

“The same could be said for many of the other young ladies Master Bruce has seen, these past few years.” Alfred lightly quipped, earning a half-annoyed smile from Bruce.

Charles chuckled. “Yes, you’ve certainly had the active social life.”

“No kidding.” Dick agreed with a chuckle.

Bruce grinned. “And what about you? Like handling over a dozen mutant teenagers under one roof is easy?” he joked. “I’m surprised you haven’t left to make sure that your Institute is still standing!”

“Some of my students may be…spirited, but I trust them.” Charles answered, before his expression turned grave. “With the Punisher and the Joker on the loose, I’m sure that Scott and Jean will want to stay and assist Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman.”

Bruce’s face fell. “Charles, I…I thought you would be heading home…”

“The Justice League are our friends, Bruce; we don’t abandon our friends.”

Bruce grinned. “Oh, I’m sure they can handle it…”

“Perhaps, but they may need some assistance.”

Bruce’s grin started to fade. “I’m not too sure that’s a good idea, Charles; do you really think they can handle it?”

Charles’ eyebrow arched. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Joker isn’t like anything you’ve ever faced, before.” Bruce answered. “I honestly don’t know if they could deal with him.”

Charles’ earlier suspicions came back, full-force. “Bruce,” Charles began, “up until three years ago, no-one had heard anything from you; you just disappeared. Where did you go?”

Bruce’s grin faded, as he closed his eyes, the inquiry striking upon something he’d long kept buried. “Different places.” he answered. “Dark places.”

Charles looked stricken. “Why?”

“I had to understand.”

“Understand what?”

Bruce flinched. “Why it happened.”

Charles’ expression filled with sympathy. “Bruce…”

“They didn’t do anything wrong.” Bruce said softly. “That man…he was just a coward with a gun…” Bruce’s face hardened. “I had to understand how that could happen; how that could be allowed to happen.”

Charles’ expression turned sad. “And did you find any answers?”

Quickly, Bruce’s smile returned. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

That was the final amen to Charles’ suspicion. “I suppose you are,” he answered, before finishing telepathically, ‘Batman.’

Bruce’s expression momentarily froze…before he laughed. ‘What?’ he thought back. ‘Me? Batman? Come on, Charles…’

‘Oh, really?’ Charles thought, keeping their conversation private. ‘Batman first appears less than a week after your return; the two of you are never seen in the same place at the same time…’

‘Coincidence.’ Bruce thought. ‘None of that proves anything…’

‘Perhaps not to anyone else,’ Charles admitted, ‘but you’re forgetting something, Bruce; I was there.’

Bruce blinked. “What?”

“I was there, Bruce; the day of your parents’ funeral.” Charles said. “Do you remember?”

Bruce was silent at that, allowing Charles’ memories to take him back to that day of tragedy…

XXXXXXXX

Wayne Manor, Gotham City, April 7, 1990

The clouds were dark over the stately Wayne Manor as the last of the funeral guests drove away, leaving only Charles Xavier in the living room, sharing a cup of tea with his old friend Alfred. “So, Charles, what will you do now?” Alfred asked, managing a weak smile. “Return to that Institute of yours, I trust?”

Charles nodded, sipping his tea. “There’s still much to do.” he answered. “Cerebro may be operational, but I still need instructors…and then I have to find mutants willing to attend…”

“You’ll find a way, Charles.” Alfred assured him. “Thomas knew you’d do it, sooner or later.” His sadness returned. “I think he might have wanted to be the Institute’s physician, after he retired…”

They were both silent for a moment. “How is Bruce doing?” Charles asked finally. “Has he said anything?”

“Not a word; not since it happened.” Alfred said. “They were both gunned down, Charles; right in front of his eyes.”

Charles closed his eyes at that. “The poor child…”

“Even four days later, he hasn’t spoken.” Alfred continued. “Thomas and Martha named me his guardian, Charles…but I honestly don’t know if there’s anything I can do…”

Charles nodded sadly. “Perhaps I could talk to him?” he suggested. “Is he in his room?”

“No; he’s likely still in front of their graves.” Alfred answered. “He hasn’t moved from that spot since the ceremony.” Nodding, Charles finished his tea, before rolling his wheelchair away, towards the back garden.

Emerging into the garden, Charles rolled through the elaborate hedge-maze, before coming to the open plot, where the graves on his two dear friends lay…and where the little 8-year-old boy stood in front of them, in his formal black suit.

Bruce hadn’t seemed to notice him, Charles observed, although, given the unresponsive state the boy had been in since the loss of his parents, it was possible that Bruce didn’t care. Glancing to the darkening sky, Charles decided to ask Bruce to come inside, before it started to rain…

“Why?”

Bruce’s voice startled him, as did his question; Charles momentarily panicked…there was no answer he had for the boy that would be enough for him…

“Why?!” Bruce demanded again, looking up at the sky, clearly indicating that his inquiry hadn’t been meant for Charles. “Why did he get away?! He’s not supposed to get away!!”

Charles’ heart nearly broke at Bruce’s tone, so filled with despair…

…but the despair quickly turned to rage. “Why didn’t anyone stop him?!” Bruce roared at the sky. “Why?! Why didn’t anyone help?! Why couldn’t anyone stop him?! He got away!!”

Slowly, droplets of rain began to fall from the sky…until it was pouring…but Bruce didn’t seem to care.

Suppressing a sniffle, the young Wayne heir continued. “If…If no-one else can do it…” he whimpered, “…if nobody else will stop them…then…then…”

Bruce’s rage returned. “…then I’LL DO IT!!” he exploded. “I’ll hunt them down!! I’ll stop them, if nobody else will!! I’ll learn how to fight them!! I’ll learn how to stop them!! I’ll never rest!! I’ll never stop, not until everyone is safe!! This won’t EVER happen again!!”

Charles was shocked to silence at the force of the boy’s vow…as he slowly inched his wheelchair away, letting Bruce finish…

Thunder cracked as Bruce raged, tears of anger flowing down his face. “I’ll learn how to terrify the bad men!! I’ll make them pay for what they did!! I’ll scare them so badly they’ll never even think of pulling a gun, ever again!! This will never happen to anybody ever again!! I swear!! I SWEAR!! I SWEAR!!”

All Charles could do was watch…as the innocent Bruce Wayne vanished before his eyes…and was replaced by something else….

XXXXXXXX

Charles’ eyes opened as he recalled that day; that vow…that young voice so filled with rage…

Even after eighteen years, it still haunted him.

Looking up, Charles saw that Bruce had lowered his gaze. ‘Do you remember, Bruce?’ he asked telepathically.

“I remember.”

Charles gasped at the sound of that voice, growling like a feral beast, a demon that had clawed its way out of hell, echoing from Bruce, who slowly looked up…

His features hadn’t changed…but this was not the same young man as before. He stood taller, looming over Charles like a thundercloud, his eyes narrowed in a frigid glare, his features taut, his entire body ready for action, ready to dispense justice.

Batman wasn’t the cowl; it was the raging force inside him.

“Uh, boy.” Dick murmured, as Alfred looked grim, before they both moved to the two exits, making sure no-one walked in on them.

Charles’ expression turned sad. “I had thought that Thomas and Martha’s passing was a tragedy,” he said softly, “but there was a third tragedy, that day, wasn’t there?”

The nightmare figure that wore Bruce’s face nodded. “I can’t do what needs to be done as Bruce Wayne.”

“And what needs to be done?” Charles asked.

Batman’s face hardened. “What happened to me will never happen to anyone else ever again. Ever.” he vowed. “I had to become…more than a man.”

“But at what cost, Bruce..?”

“At any cost.” Batman answered. “The Mission comes first. Always.”

Charles was about to reply, when a beeping suddenly began to resonate from Bruce’s pocket; taking out a small electronic device, Batman looked at it…and then walked over to the nearby television set, switching it on…

Joker’s hideous visage grinned out at them from the TV. “Hidey-ho, Gotham!” Joker laughed. “I’m sure you all know by now the little game Batsy and I have been playing, over the years…but lately, Bat-Boy’s found some new friends to play with…” he sniffed, “…leaving me all alone…”

A chorus of “Awwww…” echoed in the background.

“But, hey! I’m all for turning my frown upside-down, Gotham; if Batso won’t come out to play, I’ll just find a new playmate!” Joker guffawed. “And you know what the Good Book says: ‘ask and ye shall receive’! No sooner do I get out, lo and behold, Frankie Castle shows up on my doorstep!”

A chorus of “Booo…” echoed.

“Shaddap!!” Joker snapped…before pausing. “Ahem…now I know Franko’s been getting a bad rap, but the guy’s not all bad; sure, he’s a psychotic serial-killer, but he also has a nice singing-voice! I say we should give the guy a good old-fashioned Gotham welcome!”

Joker’s smile turned evil. “How about it, Frankie-boy? If you wanna play, be my guest. I’m sure a smart guy like you can figure out how to find me.” He cackled insanely. “And if you’re listening, Boopsie, there’s no need to feel left out; you’re more than welcome to join in the laughs! Between all of us, we’ll have such fun. Toodles!”

As soon as the Joker’s broadcast ended, Dick and Alfred came back in. “Bruce…” Dick began.

“I traced the signal; Joker’s broadcasting from Cobblepot’s Bric-a-Brac, one of Penguin’s dummy-companies.” Batman said.

Alfred arched an eyebrow. “Odd.”

“Regardless, after that, Castle will be going after him for sure.” Batman said.

“We’d better let the others know.” Dick added.

“Chances are, they already know.” Turning back to Charles, Bruce resumed his friendly persona. “It was nice seeing you again, Charles.” he added. “Have a safe trip home.” With that, he and Dick headed out.

Only Alfred lingered for a moment, as Charles turned a mournful gaze on his old friend. “How do you handle that, Alfred?” Charles asked softly.

Alfred smiled sadly. “The same way you handle your students, Charles.” he answered. “It was good to see you, again.” With that, he turned, and walked away, leaving Charles with his thoughts.

XXXXXXXX

It had been several minutes, ad Jean still hadn’t found Scott’s room.

As she walked, she allowed her mental shields to relax, a bit; after keeping them up full-strength for the better part of the day, she was a bit tired…

‘I can’t believe it; the Punisher is here…’

‘First Batman, now that murdering lunatic…what’s this city coming to..?’

Jean frowned to herself, as she felt stray thoughts start to filter in; she’d have to put her barriers up a bit more…but one more thought froze that idea in its tracks.

‘With that Joker lunatic practically daring Castle to come after him, Gotham’ll be a bloodbath before the week’s out…’

Jean suppressed a horrified gasp as she got the full extent of that thought, realizing what Joker planned to do..!

Reaching out with her telepathy, Jean quickly found Scott, alive and well, and hurried to his room…where she found him sitting on the edge of his bed, getting dressed. “Hey, Jean.”

“Scott?!” Jean exclaimed. “What are you..?”

“I heard laughing-boy’s little announcement, too.” Scott answered, gesturing to the TV hanging in front of his bed. “We keep spare uniforms in the X-Van, right?”

Jean was momentarily silent. “Scott, you are in no condition to..!”

“Joker and the Punisher are planning on turning Gotham into a war-zone.” Scott said firmly. “I’m not planning on letting that happen, anytime soon.”

Jean was momentarily stricken with worry…but a quick PSI-link with her sweetie told her that he wasn’t budging on this. Slowly, she smiled. “We’d better go tell the Professor, then.”

Scott smiled back. “I suppose someone has to sign me out of here.” With that, they headed out, to find their mentor.

XXXXXXXX

Cobblepot’s Bric-a-Brac HQ

As the setting sun cast its shadows over the main warehouse of Cobblebot’s Bric-a-Brac, one of his ‘legitimate’ export companies, Oswald “the Penguin” Cobblepot, 26, short and of wide frame, like the flightless birds he’d named himself after, with thin, reddish hair, blue eyes, and a pointy, beak-like nose, and claw-like hands, in his usual too-long tuxedo jacket, matching the rest of his attire, smiled to himself as the rest of his goons loaded their ‘merchandise’ for shipping, with his twin Kabuki bodyguards flanking him.

The past week had been a good one; with the Bat busy with that new team of his, he’d managed to fly under the Dark Knight’s radar, for once. Now, all he had to do was ship this stuff out without that cowl-clad freak catching on…

Suddenly, the wall behind him exploded, sending numerous crates and workers flying; by sheer reflex, Penguin’s bodyguards shed their formal attire, revealing their red bodysuit-clad forms, their hands replaced by lethal claws, with only their masks left from their formal wear. As Penguin reached for one of his customized umbrellas, he managed to see out through the hole in the wall; he could see a large, black van, shining its lights into the warehouse…with a single individual, wearing a black trenchcoat, standing in front of it.

Penguin’s eyes narrowed. “Get him!!” he shouted, as he aimed his umbrella at the intruder, firing a constant stream of fire from its central spike, as his bodyguards leapt at him.

The intruder darted away from the flame-stream, before drawing a knife and throwing it with deadly accuracy, slicing into Penguin’s umbrella, shorting it out, seconds before the Kabuki twins closed on him; as the first sliced at him with her claws, the stranger ducked under her initial swipe, before punching her in the mask, and then grabbing her arm and tossing her into the other. Spotting several of Penguin’s thugs charging, he drew an automatic and cut them down in a spray of bullets.

Penguin froze. ‘No way this is Bat-Jerk; he hates guns…’ he thought, ‘…but…then that means..!’

With the thugs dispatched, the intruder stalked towards Penguin, stepping into the light…revealing the menacing skull-crest.

Fighting panic, Oswald reached for another umbrella, but the Punisher reached him first, kicking it away, before grabbing Oswald by the collar and lifting him up, putting the barrel of his gun to Oswald’s forehead. “M-M-Mr. Castle!” Penguin stammered, managing a weak smile. “W-What a surprise! How c-can I help y-you?”

The Punisher glared at him. “Where is he?”

Penguin gulped. “W-Who?”

“The Joker, Cobblepot!!” the Punisher roared.

Penguin blinked. “The clown??” he asked, incredulous. “Terrorizing a circus? Gassing a comedy show? How the hell should I know?”

The Punisher thumbed back the hammer of his gun. “Wrong answer, bird-boy. I know he’s here, so you’d better start talking.” His eyes narrowed. “It could mean the difference between ‘quick and painless’ or ‘night-long agony’.”

Penguin gulped. “Look, Castle…I get it; you want the clown dead, and who doesn’t? I can’t think of anyone who actually likes that laughing nut-job…except maybe that loon Quinn…plus, Clowny’s been trying to muscle in on my turf ever since Fisk packed up; I want him dead just as much as anybody!”

“Good.” Castle growled. “Then start talking.”

Penguin grimaced. “I don’t know!! I swear to God..!!”

The Punisher glared at him. “Too bad, bird-boy.” he snarled. “Then I don’t have any problem offing your ass; as far as I’m concerned, you’re just another dead criminal scumbag.” With that, he reached for the trigger. “Say good-bye.”

“Good-bye.”

The sandpaper-on-glass voice echoed through the shadows seconds before the whirling Batarang knocked the weapon out of the Punisher’s hands. Snarling, the Punisher drew another automatic, dropping Penguin, before spinning around and opening fire on the shadowed corner where the Batarang had spun back into, forcing Batman to dart out of the way, evading every shot.

Penguin saw red. “I should’ve known you were behind this, Bat-Jerk!!” he shouted, motioning to his bodyguards, who leapt at the Dark Knight…

…and were instantly intercepted by Robin and Batgirl, who leapt down from the rafters and knocked the Kabuki twins away with flying-kicks, giving Batman the opportunity he needed; the Dark Knight rolled under the Punisher’s shots, and slammed Castle in the solar plexus with a punch, doubling him over, following with an uppercut, which sent Castle flying.

Before Batman could press the advantage, the sound of a whirring rotor-blade filled the air, as Penguin came at him with a mechanized umbrella. “Thought you could sic your pal Castle on me, eh, Bats?!” Penguin snapped, swinging the spinning blade at him. “Not today!!”

His eyes narrowing, Batman threw a shuriken at Penguin’s umbrella, striking the central axle of the blade, causing it to fall apart. Before Penguin could react, Batman grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up to his eye-level. “In case you haven’t noticed, Cobblepot,” he growled, “we’re trying to save your life.”

Penguin blinked. “Seriously??”

As the Punisher got back on his feet, he reached for his grenade-belt…but before he could draw a weapon, a sonic-boom shook the air, as Superman burst through the wall, followed by Wonder Woman. Spotting castle, Superman unleashed a blast of gale-breath, sending Punisher flying once more. Castle tried again to draw a grenade, but Wonder Woman snagged it with her lasso and tossed it away before he could pull the pin. “It’s over, Castle.” Superman said. “We’re taking you in.”

Frank scowled as he got to his feet. “Real ‘heroic,’ Boy Scout.” he sneered. “Drop the hammer on me while bird-boy walks.”

“Oh, he won’t be ‘walking,’ Castle.” Wonder Woman said. “Rest assured, now that we’re here, if that horrid little man has anything to hide, we’ll find it.”

Penguin scowled. “I was better off with Castle…” he grumbled.

“You know he’ll just be back on the street in a week.” Punisher snapped. “For someone out to ‘change the world,’ you don’t know much about how it works; there’s only one thing these animals understand.” With that, he drew a remote-control from his pocket.

“This.”

And with that, he thumbed down the trigger.

Instantly, twin rocket-launchers popped up from the top of Castle’s van, before opening fire on the warehouse.

As the twin missiles lanced towards the warehouse, Superman fired his eye-rays, piercing one missile, fusing its detonator and rendering it inert…but before he could get the other one, it impacted Cobblepot’s crates, erupting in an impressive blast, spreading flames throughout the warehouse.

“Everyone, clear out!!” Batman ordered, this place is going to blow!!” With that, he, Robin, Batgirl, Superman and Wonder Woman hurried out of the warehouse, while Penguin and his bodyguards made a break for it, along with the rest of his workers.

By the time they had all made it to a safe distance, the Punisher had already escaped, and Penguin’s warehouse had gone up in flames. As Penguin looked forlornly at his torched company, Superman glanced to Batman. “Joker’s not here; I scanned the place with my X-Ray vision before coming in – no sign of him.”

Batman nodded. “There wasn’t any broadcasting equipment nearby, either; he must have a mobile transmitter.”

Wonder Woman blinked. “Then what was the purpose of luring Castle here? It makes no sense…”

“It makes perfect sense.” Batman corrected. “Ever since the Kingpin pulled his operations out of Gotham, other gangs have been trying to fill the power-vacuum. Joker’s goading Castle into attacking his competitors; after Castle wipes out every other criminal in his way…”

“…Joker wins by default.” Robin finished.

“Okay, so we know why clown-boy’s egging skull-boy on,” Batgirl said, “so what do we do about it?”

“We catch Joker in the act; we wait until he makes a broadcast, move in and nab him, and then wait for Castle.” Superman said.

“Agreed.” Batman replied. “Let’s move.”

“Hold it!!” Penguin shouted. “That’s it?! That psycho shot up my business, and you’re just going to leave it at that while you..?!”

Batman skewered Penguin with a glare. “Don’t bother with the innocent-victim routine, Cobblepot; we all know what you were doing here. The only reason you’re not in cuffs right now is because Castle shot up the evidence.” he snarled. “If you’re expecting pity, don’t hold your breath; as far as I’m concerned, you’re just another criminal.”

Penguin frowned. “That’s what he said, too.” he snapped. “I’m surprised you weren’t working with Castle, Bats; from the looks of it, you two’d be great pals…‘cause he’s just like you.”

Batman’s glare never faltered…but Wonder Woman’s expression became sympathetic as she heard that. “We’re leaving.” Batman said. With that, he turned to go.

“I don’t think so, Bat-Jerk.” Penguin sneered, taking out his last umbrella, as his bodyguards and thugs prepared to attack. “I think you owe me one…and right now, I’m gonna..!”

But Penguin paused, his expression glazing over. “I’m gonna…I think I’m just gonna head home.” Penguin mumbled. With that, he turned and walked away, as his thugs and bodyguards paused, confused, before they turned around and followed him.

Batgirl blinked. “Uh…okay…what was that about??”

Superman chuckled. “I think Phoenix would know,” he said, “right, Jean?”

At that, Cyclops and Phoenix, in uniform stepped out of the shadows. “We figured you could use some backup.” Cyclops said.

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “I thought I had made myself clear.” he growled.

“You did.” Phoenix answered. “Now let us be clear: we’re not leaving.”

“Whatever Joker and Castle can throw at us, we can handle it just as well as you can.” Cyclops added. “We’ve faced lunatics before…”

Batman’s glare silenced them. “Have you?” he challenged. “Then you understand that, with Joker, you’ll be facing an individual with no sense of empathy or compassion whatsoever; you understand that Joker kills not to gain wealth or publicity, or for any political goal…but simply because he likes it.” His eyes narrowed. “Joker is like nothing you have faced before; his mind doesn’t follow the same rules that a normal mind does – he is chaos, plain and simple.”

“In his own way, the Punisher is just as psychotic.” Batman continued. “His mind is completely focused on accomplishing his goal, by any means necessary. He is unable to appreciate the difference between right and wrong; by his logic, the murder of criminals is completely justifiable…and collateral damage is perfectly acceptable.”

Phoenix’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”

Just then, Superman spoke up. “In case anyone’s interested, Joker’s broadcasting, again.”

Batman spun around. “Where?”

Superman closed his eyes, listening carefully. “Northeast Gotham, in the industrial district!”

“Uh, boy.” Robin said. “That’s where Mask usually runs his arms deals…and word is, he was supposed to be running a big one, soon…”

“Who?” Cyclops asked.

“Black Mask, the leader of one of the larger crime-families in Gotham.” Batgirl explained. “I hate to say it, Big Bat, but we may actually need some extra help on this one…”

Batman scowled; if the Punisher went after Black Mask, then Mask would undoubtedly retaliate, and if he had heavy weapons at his disposal…

Batman turned to Cyclops and Phoenix. “We do this my way.” he ordered. “Understood?”

Cyclops nodded grimly. “You’re the expert.”

Batman turned to Superman and Wonder Woman. “You two intercept Castle before he reaches Mask’s hideout. I have all the fastest routes from here to northeast Gotham uploaded to your communicators by Bat-Wave.”

“Understood.” Superman agreed.

To Robin and Batgirl, he added, “You two take Cyclops and Phoenix to Mask’s hideout, and neutralize his weapons; if Castle does reach his objective, I don’t want it turning into a firefight. Incapacitate Mask and his goons if possible, but the weapons are a priority.”

Robin nodded. “You guys up for it?”

“I think so.” Cyclops replied.

“As soon as Joker finishes his broadcast, he’ll undoubtedly flee.” Batman finished. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get away.”

“We got here via the X-Van.” Cyclops said. “After dropping us at Mask’s hideout, you’re welcome to…”

“No need.” Batman replied, tapping a button on his utility belt. “I brought my own.”

At that, Cyclops arched an eyebrow, but before he could ask what Batman meant by that, the sound of a powerful engine cut the air…as a long, sleek, jet-black, dark-blue-edged, fully customized super-car drove up alongside Batman, coming to a perfect stop beside him. The car’s canopy slid back, allowing the Dark Knight to hop into the driver’s seat. “Get moving.” Batman instructed, before the canopy slid back up, as the car’s engine whirred to life, thrust blazing from the car’s diamond-shaped rear exhaust, as it took off into the night.

Cyclops could only stare after the car, his expression a mix of awe…and envy. “I gotta get me one of those…”

Superman chuckled. “Wait for your birthday, Slim.” he said, before his expression turned serious. “Let’s get to work.”

XXXXXXXX

After pulling out from Cobblepot’s warehouse, Frank had only driven a short distance before his battle-van’s radio intercepted Joker’s transmission, quickly tracing it to its source: a known hideout for the gang-leader known as Black Mask.

‘This is starting to look fishy.’ Frank thought grimly. The damn clown sounded like he wanted to face him…but by the time he got there, laughing-boy was gone…

‘He’s settin’ me up.’ Frank thought, his eyes narrowing. ‘Big mistake, Smiley.’

Joker wanted to play games? Well, that was just fine by him; if he could get the opportunity to waste a few more of the bigger scumbags in this bent town before stomping the clown, he didn’t mind one bit.

As he drove, he spared a glance to the photo of his wife, Maria, and his son and daughter, Frank Jr. and Lisa, that he kept on his dashboard…his face lifting into one of his rare smiles as he did.

Not for the first time, Frank wondered if what he was doing was the right thing; was this what they would want..?

Quickly shaking his head, Frank returned himself to the moment. It was too late to think about that now; he’d started this, and he wouldn’t stop until every criminal scumbag on Earth was rotting in hell.

He could sort out his own soul later.

By then, Frank had driven onto an elevated highway a few blocks away from his target; he was just minutes away…

Suddenly, a sonic boom shook the air.

“Crap.”

Seconds after Frank’s expletive, a red-and-blue blur darted ahead of the van…as the vehicle ground to a halt, its wheels spinning, burning rubber…as the engine was unable to overcome the force of the hands pushing against the hood.

As he held the van in place, Superman glared at Frank through the windshield. “You have to stop this, Castle!” the kid shouted. “Joker is using you!”

‘Can’t this kid take a hint?’ Frank thought, as he drew his semi-automatic revolver. “I know!” the Punisher spat, as he opened fire with perfect aim, hitting the little punk right in the forehead…which bounced off, only causing a look of irritation to cross his face…but it distracted him long enough for Frank to bring out the heavy artillery.

As he armed the van’s rocket-launchers, the weapons rose out of the van’s roof, opening fire, blasting Superman, knocking him away from the van, allowing Frank to drive on, trying to regain control, as his vehicle swerved from the shift in momentum. Frank tried to retract the launchers, but he was too late, as Wonder Woman flew towards the van from behind, snagging them with her lasso and tearing them off.

Leaning out the window, Frank fired a few rounds to get her to back off, but Wonder Woman blocked the shots with her armlets. Just then, Frank felt the van shudder as Superman flew alongside it, blowing out one tire with his eye-rays; as the van started to slow down, unbalanced, Frank knew that he wasn’t going to reach the target-zone as it was…

…not unless he improvised.

Checking the map on the van’s computer-screen, Frank saw that the turn-off to exit the highway was too far away…but there was a turn in the highway coming up that was right next to the target.

Perfect.

As Superman blew out another tire, Frank rapidly typed a series of commands into the computer-system he’d MacGyvered into the van, before entering them.

Initiating Protection Program.

At once, the system began uploading all the intel he’d acquired since coming to Gotham back to his home base, before systematically deleting everything from the onboard system, making sure that nothing could be traced from the wreckage.

Protection Program initiated: one minute to self-destruct.

With the files erased and the auto-destruct set, Frank swerved the van towards the curve, going over the edge…sending it falling towards the target.

As the van fell, with Superman and Wonder Woman diving after it, Frank tucked the photo of his family into his pocket, before he scrambled into the back of the van, gathering all the weapons he could, before blowing open the side-door and leaping out into the open air…as the timer kept counting down…

XXXXXXXX

Shortly after Joker’s message had been delivered across Gotham’s air-waves, a lone ice-cream truck slowly drove away from the warehouse where Black Mask was conducting his deal, its unassuming jingle playing, as the ceramic ice-cream-cone on top spun slowly…concealing the high-tech satellite dish that Joker had used to broadcast his challenge.

Inside the truck, as Punch drove away, with Judy on lookout, Joker let loose a laugh. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to see the look on Mask’s face!”

“I know, Puddin’!” Harley cooed, as she lay curled up in his lap. “Who else are we gonna prank, tonight?”

Joker grinned. “You know, I think Thorne’s boys could use some laughs..!”

“Uh, boss?” Judy piped up. “We got trouble..!”

Scowling, Joker glanced at the rear-view mirror…and saw the image of the Batmobile, closing on them fast. “So, Batsy wants to play, eh?” Joker cackled. “Lose him!!”

At that, Punch swerved into a wide turn to the left; with expert maneuvering, Batman gave chase, staying on the ice-cream truck’s tail. As soon as he was in range, Batman fired the Batmobile’s twin forward grapnel-launchers; the twin cables lanced out and caught the truck’s rear bumper, before pulling taut, as the Batmobile began to decelerate, becoming a drag on the truck’s momentum. Quickly engaging the autopilot, Batman dropped the canopy, before firing his grapnel-launcher and pulling himself onto the truck’s roof.

As Batman landed on the truck’s roof, Punch swerved to the left, almost causing Batman to slide off, but the Dark Knight held on. Quickly getting back on his feet, Batman saw Judy climb onto the roof; as the burly clown swung at him, Batman ducked under his attack, and unleashed a left jab into his armpit, dislocating his shoulder, before grabbing the stunned clown and tossing him into a nearby trash dumpster as they passed by it.

Before Batman could react, Joker – after climbing onto the roof from the side door – caught him in a choke-hold from behind. “So glad you could come out to play, Batsy!” he cackled. “It’s been so boring, lately, since you’ve found new friends to play with..!”

He was cut off as Batman pulled his head forward, and then snapped it back, smashing Joker’s nose and breaking his grip, as Punch swerved again to the left, causing them both to stumble. “Punch, you idiot!!” Joker roared.

But by then, Batman had an idea; pulling a handful of mini-explosives from his belt, he tossed the small charges down at the truck’s wheels, blowing out several of them, before leaping off the roof and back into the Batmobile, closing the canopy and retracting the grapnels, as he promptly slowed his vehicle…while the Joker’s truck swerved out of control, heading right for Black Mask’s hideout.

By then, Joker had also noticed where they were heading. “Uh-oh.” he muttered…seconds before the truck crashed through the fencing…

XXXXXXXX

A few minutes earlier

After parking the X-Van in an alley near the warehouse, Cyclops and Phoenix met Robin and Batgirl on a rooftop overlooking the warehouse. As they surveyed the warehouse, they spotted numerous thugs in the shipping-yard below, moving numerous crates out of transport trucks and onto loading-carts, with the entire operation being directed by a single man, tall and well-built, in a black business suit…with a menacing, full, black face-mask over his face. “Is that him?” Cyclops asked.

“Yep; that’s Mask.” Robin confirmed. “Looks like he’s moving enough hardware for an army.”

Batgirl grimaced. “Knowing Mask, I’m not surprised.” she agreed. “It looks like they’re moving incendiaries, now…hey, Red, you think you can set ‘em off?”

Phoenix nodded. “I think so.”

“Good.” Robin said. “That should take care of most of the stuff they’ve unloaded, but there’s probably still a good bit in the truck. Think you can take care of that, Shades?”

“No problem.”

“Okay, then; we’ll cover you.” Robin finished. “Let’s move.” With that, the four of them sprang into action.

In the shipping yard, several thugs were on patrol while the others moved the hardware out of the truck; as one passed by a darkened alley, he froze as he heard something…

He never even had a chance to cry out as an invisible force yanked him into the shadows, silencing him completely.

As another patrolling crook turned around, he noticed that his pal was missing. “Mack?” he called out…but there was no answer.

The others took notice of that, as well…including Black Mask. “What is it, Breen?”

“It’s Mack, boss; he’s gone.” Breen reported.

Mask scowled. “Mack, I told you to bring everyone, for this job; if he’s bailed..!”

“N-No, sir! He was here; I saw him just a second ago!” Breen defended. “He’s gotta be here; he couldn’t’ve just..!”

But he was cut off as the street-lights illuminating the yard suddenly shattered, coating the yard in darkness.

The dark, coupled with the sudden start, was more than enough to spook Mask’s crew. “Oh God…it’s Him…”

“Shut up!!” Black Mask roared. “I don’t want to hear any mention of the Bat!”

Breen gulped. “Th-The b-boss’ right; we’ve got enough firepower to take the Bat…”

“But what if it ain’t the Bat?! What if it’s the Punisher?! I heard he was seen around here, man!” another thug cried. “Have we got enough to take him?!”

At that notion, every crook in the yard shuddered in fear…remaining oblivious to the two shadows darting out of the alley towards their shipment…seconds before the pins of every grenade in the last load spontaneously popped out on their own.

Black Mask’s face twisted in rage. “I don’t give a rat’s ass who shows up!! If anybody tries anything, we fill ‘em full of lead..!”

Suddenly, the load of grenades exploded in a massive blast, destroying more than half of the crates that had already been unloaded and sending Mask’s crew into frightened panic. “Get to the truck!!” Mask shouted; at once, several thugs ran for the truck…but a powerful red beam of pure force lanced into it, blasting it apart, causing the crooks to flee…as a shadow darted towards them at blistering speed, moving amongst them like a fish through water, with only the sounds of his staff striking flesh and bone and the screams of the crooks the only markers of his passing.

In the flickering light of the fires, three more crooks caught sight of Robin’s attack, and took aim in his direction…but their attack was spoiled as Batgirl leapt out of the shadows, flinging a cluster of shuriken at them, causing them to scream as the throwing-stars bit into their wrists, forcing them to drop their weapons and distracting them long enough for Batgirl to slam two with a split-kick, and take down the third with a jujitsu lock.

As four more thugs, armed with chains and crowbars, rushed at Batgirl, a sudden pulse of psychic force stopped them, knocking the weapons from their hands, seconds before Cyclops followed Phoenix’s attack with a rapid barrage of optic-blasts, taking down each and every thug with the speed and accuracy of a professional gunslinger.

With Mask’s thugs on the run, Robin turned as two of the gutsier goons came at him with crowbars, easily blocking the attack of one with his staff, before parrying it and whirling the motion into a spin-kick, knocking one into the other and taking them both out. As he retracted his staff, Robin was blindsided as Black Mask caught him in a choke-hold from behind. “So, the Bat sent his brat to do his dirty-work, huh? He didn’t have the stones to do it himself?” Black Mask sneered. “Well, when I send your carcas back to him, Bird-Brat, maybe he’ll think twice before messing with my business!” His tone turned icy. “Any last words?”

Robin didn’t flinch. “Yeah: van.” At that, Black Mask paused, confused…until he saw the falling form of Punisher’s battle-van crash into his already-wrecked shipment of weapons, exploding in an impressive blast…seconds before an ice-cream truck crashed through the side-fences, flipping onto its side, and depositing the Joker and his crew onto the ground.

The Joker groaned piteously. “For once, I’m stuck without a punch-line.”

Black Mask blinked…and then snarled in fury, as he dropped Robin and stormed towards Joker. “I don’t know how, clown, but I know that you had something to do with this..!” He reached for his gun…

…but before he could draw it, a golden rope looped over him, as Wonder Woman snagged him with her lasso, before she tossed the other end to Superman, who quickly hog-tied the gang-leader at super-speed. “Sorry, Mask,” Superman said, “but you’re going to have to ask Joker about this in prison.”

Slowly, Joker got to his feet. “Time to take my show on the road.” he whispered to himself, as he started to slip away…only to bump right into the bruised form of the Punisher. “F-Frankie!” Joker stammered. “G-Good to see ya! Don’t mind me..!”

But Joker was cut off as the Punisher grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up, before putting his gun to Joker’s forehead. “No more games, clown.” he snarled.

As a bruised Harley regained consciousness, she saw Joker in the Punisher’s grip. “P-Puddin’?!”

“Let him go, Castle.” Superman said. “It’s over.”

“Don’t try anything, Boy Scout!!” the Punisher roared, his grip tightening on the trigger. “I can pop this scumbag before even you can stop me..!”

“Castle.”

Turning, the Punisher saw the soulless white eyes of the Batman glaring at him from the shadows from where he’d parked the Batmobile. “Put him down.”

The Punisher just laughed, a harsh, humourless chuckle. “You know, Bats, I’m actually glad you’re here, this time; you can clear something up for me.” Frank growled. “Explain to me why – in God’s name, why – is this piece of shit still alive? Explain to me why he deserves to be breathing.”

Joker just laughed. “Oooohhh, that is the million-dollar question, eh, Batsy?”

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “That isn’t for either of us to decide, Castle.”

“Well, someone sure as hell has to!”

Joker just cackled. “But ain’t you heard, Frankie?” he said. “I’m sick; that’s why old Chuckie X and his brats came down here; I need help…”

“Bullshit, clown; don’t try that sob-story with me.” Frank spat, causing Joker’s smile to waver. “That sad excuse is likely why you haven’t gotten the death-penalty, because it’s just an excuse for every single evil, sick thing you’ve ever done…but I know the truth.”

“Yeah, you’re crazy, laughing-boy…but you ain’t that crazy.”

At that, Joker’s smile imploded into a full scowl.

Frank just laughed. “Hey, Bats, get a camera; I just wiped the smile off the Joker’s face!”

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Put him down.”

“Why, Bats? Why shouldn’t I just do humanity a favour and off this little shit?” the Punisher snapped. “For that matter, why haven’t you done it? Is it because you ain’t got the guts, Bats? Is that it? Is it just too hard for you to rid the world of this scumbag?!”

Batman was silent for a moment. “Oh, no, Castle; oh, God Almighty, no.”

“It’s too easy.”

That statement made the Punisher pause. “Ever since I first encountered Joker, all I wanted to do was spend several months doing to him what he’s done to countless innocent people.” Batman growled. “All I wanted to do was put him through the most horrible kinds of torture, make him beg for death…and then send him off to hell.”

Joker just giggled. “Aww…and here I thought you didn’t feel the same way…”

Batman’s voice became softer. “But if I do that…if I go down that path…I’ll never come back.” he whispered. His voice turned hard. “I will fight evil; I will do everything in my power to stop it…but I will not become it.”

The Punisher just looked at him. “News flash, Bats; there’s only one way to fight fire.” he snarled. “And that’s with fire.” And with that, his finger tightened on the trigger…

Batman’s arm moved almost too fast to be seen, as he threw a shuriken with blinding speed; the blade whooshed past Castle’s ear, startling him…before it ricocheted off the nearby warehouse wall to bury itself in the Punisher’s shoulder, grazing an especially large nerve-cluster, causing Frank to howl in pain as his grip went limp.

Joker saw his chance; he broke free from the Punisher’s grip, and ran for all he was worth. Phoenix readied a TK-pulse to stop him, but she was tackled from behind by a screeching Harley. “Don’t you touch my Puddin’!!”

Her eyes glowing with psychic flame, Phoenix had had enough. With a single TK-pulse, she pushed Harley away, before turning to face her. “Quinn,” she hissed, a flaming corona surrounding her as she spoke, “get a GRIP!!”

And with that screech, her corona turned into a massive firebird – her namesake – before it washed over the screaming Harley, as the psychic flame knocked her out cold.

As the Joker made a break for it, Cyclops took aim, and blasted him with an optic-beam, sending him sprawling. Cyclops quickly closed on him, but as he did, Joker did a handspring, slamming Cyclops with a double-heel strike. “So, kiddo, you want an encore, eh?” Joker snarled. With that, he swung at Cyclops, who blocked the punch and twisted it into a lock, but Joker head-butted him, knocking him down, before he pounced on Cyclops, ripping off his visor, forcing Scott to shut his eyes, before grabbing his throat. “Let’s see you laugh it up without those beams of yours, boy!!”

“Joke’s on you, clown.” Scott choked out. “The beams don’t come from my visor.”

With that, he opened his eyes the tiniest crack, as red light started to leak out…turning Joker’s expression to one of utter horror.

“They come from me!!”

And with that, Cyclops blasted the Joker off of him, sending him sprawling. As the Joker struggled to get up, he froze, as an all-too-familiar shadow fell over him, before he looked up…in time to see Batman’s fist connect solidly with his jaw, sending him flying yet again, to land hard on the ground.

Cyclops chuckled. “Now that’s a punch-line.”

As he lay on the ground, Joker scowled. “Oh, har dee har har.”

Turning around, Batman’s eyes narrowed as he looked to where the Punisher had stood…and only found a bat-shaped shuriken and a small pool of blood.

The Punisher had slipped away while they had all been distracted with Joker.

Noting Batman’s expression, Wonder Woman lightly smiled. “Next time.”

Batman slowly calmed, before glancing to Cyclops. “Not bad.” he said, before walking away.

Cyclops arched an eyebrow. “Thanks…I guess.”

XXXXXXXX

By the time they had gotten the fires under control, Commissioner Gordon and the Gotham PD had arrived to take the Joker, Black Mask, and the rest of their respective gangs into custody. “Excellent work, all of you.” Commissioner Gordon said. Glancing to Cyclops and Phoenix, he added, “I’m sure Xavier would be proud.”

“Any sign of Castle?” Batman asked.

“None; he’s gone dark.” James answered.

Batgirl chuckled. “Guess we scared him off.”

“We can only hope.” Superman replied.

Batman turned to Superman and Wonder Woman. “We need to sweep the city, make sure he’s gone.”

“Understood.” Wonder Woman agreed.

“What about us?” Phoenix asked.

Batman didn’t move, but his tone was neutral. “Go home.” he answered. “This is our problem, now; you’ve done enough.”

Cyclops nodded. “I guess we should take the Professor home, shouldn’t we?”

Joker had been the last one to be led into the police van; as he passed by, he sneered at them. “See you in the funny papers!” he cackled, before he was led away.

Phoenix shivered. “Batman was right about one thing; Joker isn’t like anyone we’ve ever faced, before.”

Robin nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty much the most evil nutjob on the planet.”

“He’s a completely different breed from anyone else; Creed, the F.O.H…even Doom.” Superman said. “I didn’t understand it, the first time I came here…but Joker is true evil; the kind that doesn’t exist for wealth, or for power, or for any goal; he’s the kind of evil that exists simply because it wants to exist.”

James nodded. “And Gotham is stuck with him.” he said grimly. “Well, as I said, thanks for the assist.”

“Good luck.” Superman replied.

James laughed. “Around here, we’ll need it.” With that, he headed to a police car, before driving off, along with the rest of the Gotham PD.

“So, Big Bat, what do we do…now?” Batgirl asked, looking around…only to find that Batman was gone…seconds before the Batmobile’s roar cut the silence.

Cyclops arched an eyebrow. “Does he always do that?”

“Oh, yeah.” Robin answered. “We’re used to it.”

Batgirl smiled. “Nice meeting you!”

“You, too.” Phoenix replied. “Good luck!”

“Thanks!” Robin answered, as he and Batgirl fired their grapnels, pulling themselves to the rooftops, to begin their patrol, as Superman and Wonder Woman took to the air, while Cyclops and Phoenix headed back to the X-Van.

It had been a long night.

XXXXXXXX

Gotham Bus Station

The night air outside the bus station was crisp and cool, as a lone, trenchcoat-clad man, carrying a duffel bag, waited for the next bus…before he flinched, stretching his sore shoulder.

In his civilian attire, Frank scowled as his shoulder ached, from the Bat’s attack, and the quick stitching he’d had to do. Still, it could’ve been worse; if that blade had gone any deeper…

Frank frowned to himself; cleaning Gotham out was going to take more effort than he’d thought. He was going to have to come back with a better battle-van, more hardware…

“Castle.”

That deadly voice cut Frank’s thoughts off; slowly, he turned around…and found a pair of lidless eyes glaring out at him from a shadowed alley. “Come to try and talk me out of it?” he sneered.

“No.”

Frank arched an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“It wouldn’t have worked on me.”

Frank chuckled. “Guess not.” he muttered, before his eyes narrowed. “You know what those scumbags are capable of, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed. “They don’t deserve to live, pal; monsters like them killed my family..!”

“…and mine.”

That surprised Frank. “So, what, then?” Frank asked. “What makes us different?”

“I don’t know.” Batman answered. “All I know is that I’m not willing to commit murder in their name.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t try that psychological mumbo-jumbo on me…and don’t feel sorry for me..!”

“I don’t.” Batman growled. “Whatever your intentions, you’re the very thing you hate, Castle; as far as I’m concerned you’re a serial-killer.”

“Status: at large.” Batman continued. “I have larger concerns than you, Castle…but I don’t ever want to see your face in Gotham ever again. Understood?”

Frank paused…and then slowly nodded. “There’s one thing that makes me better than them.” he said. “Once I’m done, I’m pretty sure the planet can handle just one of me.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Then pray, Castle, that my Mission succeeds before yours does,” he snarled, “because if you do succeed, there will always be one criminal left: you.”

His voice turned deadly. “And when that happens…you’ll be seeing me again.”

Suddenly, the bus pulled into the station, causing Frank to turn around. Quickly, he looked back…

Batman was gone…as if he’d never even been there.

‘Son of a bitch…’ Frank thought; so that was why he hadn’t gone after him. Batman hadn’t wanted to endanger these people.

Frank wasn’t sure he’d have done the same.

After boarding the bus, Frank sat down in his seat, looking out the window…as he saw the bat-imprinted searchlight – the Bat-Signal – light up the night sky.

‘That guy’s probably even crazier than me.’ Frank thought, as the bus drove off…before he chuckled darkly.

‘God help any scumbag stupid enough to cross him.’

XXXXXXXX

After responding to the Bat-Signal – where Commissioner Gordon had informed him that the Riddler had escaped from Arkham after Joker’s breakout – Batman darted across the rooftops, as swift as a shadow, trying to pick up Riddler’s trail…

“Do you require assistance?”

Batman came to a perfect stop, becoming utterly still, as Wonder Woman touched down in front of him. “You should be resuming your normal patrol with the rest of the League.” Batman answered. “I can handle things here, so tell Superman…”

“I know, Batman.” Wonder Woman answered.

Batman arched an eyebrow.

“Your parents.” Wonder Woman clarified.

Batman quickly turned away. “That’s why Castle’s approach is wrong.” he said. “It isn’t enough to incarcerate – or kill – every criminal in existence; the man who killed them was a symptom of a far worse disease infesting this city. Until every couple, every person, every individual in Gotham can walk the streets at night with a reasonable measure of safety, the deaths of Thomas and Martha Wayne mean nothing.”

Wonder Woman took a step closer to him. “You take this burden on yourself alone..?”

“I will not endanger another life.” Batman said firmly. “Not for me.”

Wonder Woman lightly smiled. “Batman…Bruce…you cannot ask yourself to fulfill this task alone…”

“That hasn’t stopped me, yet.”

They were both silent for a moment, prompting Batman to cast a brief glance over his shoulder, to see if she had left; she was still there, her arms folded, her ruby lips curved upwards in a smile, her ebony hair and creamy skin gleaming ethereally in the moonlight…

“I’m not leaving.” was all she said…but that simple, fearless statement caused the corner of his mouth to twitch upwards…

The Mission came first.

His mantra quickly filled his mind, putting him back in the moment. “I have work to do.” he said flatly, walking around the corner of the nearby rooftop exit.

Wonder Woman promptly followed him, rounding the corner. “And I’d be more than happy to..?”

There was no-one there. Quickly, she looked over the edge of the rooftop…and found nothing.

He was gone.

Wonder Woman clenched her fists. ‘That thick-headed..!’ she thought, as her face twisted into a frown…

…but as she passed by a window, she saw that she was smiling.

Sighing to herself, Diana took to the air, flying off, as she muttered to herself.

“By Hera, did Mother know that men would be so infuriating?”

XXXXXXXX

Author’s Note: I am SO, SO sorry about the delay; I’ve had a MASSIVE headache, all this week, which put a SERIOUS damper on my creativity. Please forgive me!

Coming Soon:

As a sporting event comes to Bayville, Evan makes a new pal, with a “shocking” secret…

…but as a plea comes from the sewers, our heroes must act fast…before one of their own falls prey to a toxic conspiracy.

Will the Lea