Operation Puddin'break II

Bruce Wayne, who the world now knew as Batman, crouched on the rooftop, waiting for his enemy. The people of Gotham called this enemy Neo-Batman, but Bruce knew him as Jason Todd, his former Robin, the former Arkham Knight, and now a ruthless and murderous vigilante who used fear gas to frighten criminals to death while dressed in a more lethal version of his batsuit. Batman had always known that after his true identity as Bruce Wayne had been revealed by Scarecrow, that Gotham would need a new and worse Batman to take his place, but he still felt the need to protect his city from someone he had created, someone who was cruel and homicidal because Batman had abandoned him to the clutches of the Joker.

Bruce had thought the best course of action when his identity was revealed was to fake his own death, while still keeping an active role monitoring Gotham via his allies, Oracle and Robin. But a few months ago, something had happened. Harley Quinn had recruited Scarecrow and the Mad Hatter, who had managed to kidnap Bruce and infiltrate his mind, freeing the Joker from the cell where Bruce had locked him in his subconscious forever. Rather than trying to take over Bruce's mind again, however, Joker had instead managed to escape into Harley's body, who couldn't have been happier to become a vessel for him to reassert himself in Gotham. And with Joker back out there, and Jason murdering whoever he deemed worthy of death, Bruce could no longer stand idly by and hide away in the Batcave. He had to put on the cowl again, hopefully just long enough to clean up these two situations he felt responsible for.

He sighed, glancing around the night sky. "Come on, Jason," he murmured. "You know I'm here."

"Not a nice feeling, is it?" said a voice from behind him suddenly. "Waiting around for someone that you hope is gonna come, but never does. As time passes, you start wishing you could give up hope, but you can't. It clings on no matter what, and eventually twists into something dark and bitter and vengeful. Like me."

"I don't know how many times I can apologize for what I did," murmured Bruce, turning to face the cowled figure behind him. "Or what I didn't do, I guess. But you shouldn't make the people of Gotham suffer to ease your own pain, Jason."

"Why not? Isn't that what you used to do?" asked Jason. "Anyway, I don't kill innocent people. I kill criminals. If you had killed the criminals you fought, Scarecrow would never have unmasked you, and Joker would never have tortured me. We can't change what happened in those cases, but we can see to it that no one in the future suffers as we did. The only way to prevent crime is to deal out harsh justice to those who engage in it, and ensure they can't reoffend. That's what I do."

"You can't kill people, Jason," said Bruce. "Nobody has the right to do that…"

"And you had the right to torture and maim criminals, did you?" interrupted Jason. "You talk about killing as if it's some giant leap from that. It's not. In a way, it's more merciful. It would have been merciful of Joker to kill me. But he didn't."

"I've seen the bodies of the people you've frightened to death with Crane's gas," retorted Bruce. "That's not an act of mercy."

"Sometimes I don't feel like being merciful," retorted Jason. "Like when I came upon a couple thugs in an alley, trying to rob a family, threatening to shoot them in front of their little boy, probably about eight years old. They thought they were such tough guys, beating up on defenseless civilians and their kid. After frightening a child, after they could have done to him what Joe Chill did to you, didn't those thugs deserve to be frightened to death? Isn't that justice?"

"No," said Bruce, firmly. "It's not. It makes you just as bad as they are. You think that kid is somehow unscathed after watching two people's minds break apart in a fear gas driven frenzy? He's not. I taught you that we could use the darkness to aid the light. But you've become something darker than I ever was, and that darkness will consume you. And Gotham, if you're not careful. And I can't let that happen."

"How are you gonna stop me, old man?" demanded Jason. "Everyone thinks you're dead, and even if they didn't, nobody's afraid of your Batman anymore. He was just a rich guy who decided to dress up in a bat costume and hand criminals over to the law. Well, I am the law in Gotham now. Judge, jury, and executioner."

"What you've become is a criminal just like them, Jason," murmured Bruce. "And I've always stopped them, one way or another. You're right, people already think I'm dead – if I have to actually die in order to stop you, please believe I won't hesitate to sacrifice myself to achieve that."

"But you won't sacrifice me, will you?" murmured Jason. "You see, that's how I knew you weren't dead when everyone else thought you were. You watch the footage of you blowing up Wayne Manor, and Alfred opens the door for you. Even if you were ready to sacrifice yourself, you'd never sacrifice him, your friend, and another human being. That was always your weak point, old man. And that's going to be your downfall, because in the end, you won't kill me. And that's the only way you're gonna stop me."

"That's what the Joker said," retorted Bruce. "And in the end, he killed himself."

"Did he?" asked Jason. "I heard rumors that you killed him, not that I believed them. Anyway, I'm not sure he's really gone, and you shouldn't be either. His death could have been some elaborate trick, some giant hoax on you. You've seen the graffiti everywhere, right? The smiley faces, the 'Joker's back in town!' written in blood, and surrounded by smiling corpses, the laughing gas that only he knew how to make..."

"That's Harley," retorted Bruce. "She knows how to make it, and she's gone even crazier since…she lost him."

"I saw Harley when Crane recruited her to attack Gotham," replied Jason. "She wasn't that crazy. Mostly she was just obsessed with killing you, rather than innocent people. If she wasn't that unhinged when Joker's death was more recent, why would she be more unhinged now? Pain's meant to dull as time passes, and wounds, including broken hearts, are meant to heal."

"They don't though," murmured Bruce. "You know that, and so do I."

Jason said nothing. "If Joker is back, I'm going to kill him for real for what he did to me," he said. "So stay out of my way when I do. In fact, stay out of my way in general, or I'll be forced to kill you too. And you know I can and will, unlike you."

"I don't want us to be enemies, Jason," said Bruce. "And I don't want to fight you. Come home with me now, and we can make this right. You and me and Alfred and Barbara…"

"And that brat you got to replace me, right?" interrupted Jason. "What's his name again? I guess I can just call him Mr. Barbara Gordon now."

"It's not Tim's fault that he joined me," murmured Bruce.

"No. It's yours," retorted Jason. "And I can't just forget that, Bruce. I don't want to fight you either, not again, but if you get in my way, I will. I'm not your sidekick now, and I'm not the Arkham Knight. I answer to no one, and I'm not cowed by any code of honor. So I repeat, stay out of my way, unless you want to end up dead."

"I came here to warn you, Jason," said Bruce, as Jason turned away. "I've heard rumors that Crane's after you, for co-opting his fear gas. I don't know if he knows for sure that you were the Arkham Knight, but he's not an idiot, so I'm sure he suspects that the person now using his gas is the only other person who knew where it was stored. If he has made that connection, he also knows you betrayed him and saved my life, and he's not the kind of man who allows a betrayal to go unpunished."

"I can handle Crane," retorted Jason, turning back to face him.

"I thought we could handle him together," said Bruce, gently. "Maybe work together to take him down, and hand him over to the police, just like old times…"

"Thanks, but I remember how those old times end," muttered Jason. "With Joker laughing as he shoves a sizzling brand on my face, and me blinded by the pain, seeing nothing but smoke, and smelling my own flesh burning, and hearing his horrible, mocking cackle…"

He turned away again. "No, I work better alone. We both do. Something for you to think about, Bruce," he said, as he leapt off the rooftop and was gone.

Bruce sighed heavily, opening his wrist communicator. "Alfred, I'm heading back home."

"Any luck with Master Todd, sir?" asked Alfred.

"No," murmured Bruce. "I don't think…I can save him."

"Most regrettable, sir," said Alfred. "But sometimes when people choose a darker path, the only thing we can do is not follow them onto it."

"I hope I won't," murmured Bruce. "But if it's the only way to stop him, I might have to."