CHAPTER 14

(Jack/Joker-Katie fans be forewarned: this chapter contains Jonathan-Katie lovins. The divine Dr. Crane has decided it's his turn to get a piece of the action. Consider yourselves warned.)

Katie held her breath as the taxi approached Arkham. Her relief when they passed by it was indescribable. She nearly burst into song and/or hugged the driver, but managed to hold her emotions in check. She merely turned to Jonathan with questioning eyes.

"I don't see any need for you to return there," Jonathan told her. "You were admitted for hallucinations, and since they turned out not to be hallucinations…" He trailed off.

"I get it," Katie said wryly. "Like that T-shirt: 'Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not all out to get you'."

Jonathan couldn't hide his smile. "Well…yes."

Her euphoria was short-lived. As the left the Narrows and headed to their own affluent section of the city, she mulled over the events of the morning and everything they meant. So she wasn't crazy, but there was a madman on the loose and targeting her and everyone she cared about. Well, that was just dandy.

"We need to call everyone," she said. "Alfred, and Lexi, and Darren Phillips—I think he's still in the city somewhere. I haven't spoken to him since he and Jack had that fight and he moved out."

"Detective Gordon is taking care of that," Jonathan replied. "He said he would inform everyone who needed to be informed and assign them a police guard. Including us, of course. And I'm having a home security system installed."

"I hope it's a good one," she said. "He's pretty good with that stuff, you know. When he was the Red Hood, he disabled one house's security system with no trouble at all."

He glanced at her sharply. "I thought you didn't know he was the Red Hood."

"I didn't until…well, that night. I was interested in the case, though. I read everything about it. Maybe on some level I knew…" She fell silent.

"Well, this security system is supposed to be the best there is," he said briskly. "It'll make our place like Fort Knox. It's manufactured by your company, by the way."

It took Katie a minute to realize what he meant. "Wayne Enterprises?"

He nodded. "It just didn't seem right to purchase one from anywhere else. And Lexi's father assured me this is the best security system there is."

"Mr. Fox said that?" He nodded again. Katie was slightly reassured. "Well, if he says it's the best, then it's the best."

The taxi came to a stop then. Katie's spirits rose a bit at the sight of their house. They rose even further when she thought of who was in the house—someone she was dying to see. "How's Lily been doing?" she inquired. "Has she missed me?"

"She's fine," Jonathan said. "She's asked about you every day. Mrs. Travers told her you were on a trip, and she's been asking every day when you were coming home. She's going to be thrilled to see you." His indulgent smile faded. "She doesn't know anything, of course. Try not to…" He hesitated, not knowing exactly what he meant.

"To let her know what's going on?" Katie finished for him.

"Well, yes."

He was rewarded with a flash of anger in her eyes as she drew abruptly away from him. "Jonathan, she's not even three," she snapped. "You think I'm going to waltz in there and tell her there's a psychopath after us all? I'm not crazy like you thought, and I'm certainly not stupid. Even if I did tell her, she wouldn't know what the hell I was talking about."

He wasn't so sure. Having spent more time with the child in the past week than ever before, he found himself constantly amazed and a little unnerved by her intellect. In many ways she was more like a child of five or six than two and a half. He knew she hadn't entirely bought Mrs. Travers' explanation about Katie's trip—her first questions had been where she had gone, and why Lily and Jonathan hadn't gone with her. It had taken several elaborate fictions to satisfy her. There was no way to tell Katie of all this without inviting more of her derision, so he only shrugged as she stormed out of the cab.

She was already inside the house when he climbed the front steps. With a rueful sigh, he thought to himself that, crazy as the past few hours had been, at least their relationship was back to what passed for normal. Somehow the thought didn't bring him much comfort. Shoulders slumped, he entered the house and shut the door behind him.

--

Fuck. He'd been found out. She knew she wasn't crazy; they all knew she wasn't crazy. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

He'd been careless when he offed Alex. He'd been seen. He'd known it at the time, had planned to take care of the witnesses, but with Jack squealing like a stuck pig in his head, pleading for the life of his friend, he hadn't been able to think clearly. He had just barely managed to kill Martinez, set the blaze, and escape.

Jack was yammering away even now, making his head throb. See, she knows. She's not as weak as you thought. You're not as good as you thought. She knows, and the PD knows, and they're all going to be watching for you, and your plan is screwed. It's over! It's over!

"No," he muttered. "It's not over by a long shot, Jacky-boy." His plan was temporarily thwarted, but with a few revisions he could make it play. He would have to let go of his vendettas against the Marshalls, Alfred and Darren, at least for now, and focus on the Cranes. And it would be some time before he dared to make a move on the Cranes. The Gotham PD, especially that sickeningly gallant Gordon, would be keeping a close eye on them.

But as time passed, the constant surveillance would grow lax. Gordon and the department's attention would be called to other matters. Some of these other matters would be his doing; many would not. In a city like Gotham, watching over one family would soon be relegated to the back burner with all of the other crimes taking place.

And eventually the Cranes would grow careless too. It would probably be some time before Katie allowed her little princess out of the house or her sight, but that day would come. You couldn't keep a kid cooped up inside forever. And the minute they were out and about, and Katie turned her head for a split second…Yes. It was going to be well worth the wait.

But why? screamed Jack inside his head. Why do you have to do this? You're in control now, you've won. I don't understand why you're doing this!

"Because of you," he snarled out loud. "As long as there are people out there you care about, you'll be whining around in there trying to trip me up. Once they're all gone you'll go away and I'll finally be free." Free to cause untold chaos. Free to destroy Gotham City and maybe even the world. What a kickass life he would have once he was rid of Jack. Jack wasn't exactly a conscience—he had never once stopped him from doing something he set out to do—but sometimes he succeeded in confusing him enough so that he bungled the job. Like with Martinez. Not for much longer, though. He had a feeling that once Katie was out of the picture all the fight would go out of Jack. Of course he was still going to kill all the others, just to make sure and for the hell of it, but Katie Wayne Crane was the biggie. He began to daydream about just what he would do to her once he had her in his clutches, giggling as Jack screamed.

"Boss?"

His head snapped up as his daydream was rudely interrupted. It was one of the new guys, a pockmarked kid of about fifteen who hadn't yet learned that when the boss was talking and laughing out loud to himself it was best to leave him alone.

"What?" he hissed.

The kid shifted uncomfortably. "I…I was just makin' sure everything was all right in here."

The Joker was on his feet in an instant. "Everything's right as rain in here, kiddo. Right as rain." His eyes danced as he advanced on the cowering kid. "You look nervous. Is it the scars?" His voice dropped into a friendly conspiratorial tone. "You wanna know how I got 'em?"

--

Later that night Katie sat alone in her room. It had been a long, exhausting day, but sleep was the farthest thing from her mind. There was too much to think about.

Lily had indeed been ecstatic when her mother appeared in the nursery doorway. After all the hugs and kisses and "I missed-missed-missed yous!" had subsided, the little girl had wanted to know every detail of Katie's trip. She had spun fabulous tales of her beach vacation, unaware that Jonathan had told the child she was skiing in Canada; and Lily had said nothing to clue her in. Katie was still unaware of the two conflicting stories.

She had spent the entire day with her daughter. She had told the little girl her favorite bedtime story upon tucking her in, a story of Katie's own creation about a beautiful princess and a handsome knight. Lily had requested the story during her mother's absence, and when Mrs. Travers had attempted to tell her the classic fable of a similar name she had flown into a spectacular tantrum. That wasn't like Lily, Katie mused as she sat at her vanity table brushing her hair. That wasn't like Lily at all. It concerned Katie.

She would be even more worried about her daughter if she didn't have other, bigger fish to fry. But bigger fish were hopping around in the skillet (what? she thought. Hopping around in the skillet? What were they giving me in that place?)

So Jack really was back—or rather his crazed alter ego. Earlier Katie had wondered which would be worse, finding out it was true or finding out it was all in her head. Well, now she knew.

But what she couldn't figure out was why. Why, after all this time, would this Joker character decide to start picking off the people who had mattered to Jack Napier? Jack was gone; the Joker had full control of his body.

Or did he?

Katie recalled the night the Joker had taken over. Jack had fought him then; he had managed to regain control just long enough for Katie to escape. Was it possible that Jack was still in there, tormenting the Joker as the Joker had once tormented him? Was the Joker seeking to eliminate Jack by eliminating the people he had once cared about?

Who had he cared about the most? His sister, certainly. But she had been gone for many years; according to Jonathan, her death had probably been the catalyst that brought forth the Joker in the first place. His parents were dead, by his hand. So was the man who had been his best friend.

That left…Katie herself.

She knew Jack had loved her. When he had told her that terrible night that he had initially been after her money, but then had fallen for her, she had known instinctively that he was speaking the truth. If not for the other circumstances—the evil-alter-personality-emerging circumstances—she knew she would eventually have forgiven him for targeting her in the beginning. God help her, she still loved Jack Napier. Not a day went by when she didn't think about him, and pray things could have been different. Not a day went by when she didn't think about what she could have done to save him.

But there were other people to think about now. Like Lily. She loved that child with a fierceness that rivaled, even surpassed, the love she had felt for Jack in the early days. She loved Lexi and Alfred, too. And Jonathan…well, she wasn't sure exactly what she felt for him, but she knew she cared for him. She certainly didn't want him to die. She didn't want any of them to die, especially not in the horrible ways the Joker had no doubt planned.

She loved all these people. But to the Joker, they were expendable. She, Katie, was the one who had been important to Jack. If she was removed from the equation, maybe the Joker would be satisfied and leave her loved ones alone.

And what if he isn't? her rational mind argued.

But Katie was physically and emotionally exhausted. She was coming off some major antipsychotic drugs. She had spent the last few hours alone, worrying, obsessing. Her decision was already made.

If he isn't, she thought, if the Joker isn't satisfied with that, then if God is kind we'll all be together again very soon.

--

Jonathan hadn't meant to spend the whole evening in his office. During Katie's hospitalization he had let things slide a bit, at least by his standards. Now that she was home, he had intended to spend only a few minutes catching up on his most important cases before spending the evening with her, helping her process everything that had happened that day.

But as usual the time had gotten away from him, and when he finally looked at the clock it was half-past ten. Katie was most likely asleep by now. Well, that was all right. Perhaps it would be better for her to have a full night's sleep before dealing with the enormity of Jack Napier's return. Truth be told, he thought as he climbed the stairs to their suite, it might be better for both of them. He was already looking forward to climbing in next to her and just holding her all night. He had missed the familiar warmth of her during her time in Arkham and before, when he had been sleeping in the guest room.

But apparently she wasn't asleep; he could hear the sound of water running. She must be taking a shower or bath. Even better. She was still awake, and she would emerge from the bathroom in one of her silky nightgowns, with the bewitching fragrance of her shampoo and body wash hanging about her…his cheeks pinkened as he felt the beginning of an erection. Of course, he wouldn't push her for that. But if she seemed amenable…

He was smiling as he got undressed and slipped between the sheets. But as the minutes passed his smile turned to a faint frown. Something wasn't right.

The water…it was trickling. Their shower head was adjustable, but Katie liked it on the highest setting—what she called the "pin-you-against-the-wall spray". On that setting it was so loud it sounded like a staticky TV turned up at full volume. Could she be taking a bath? No, that wasn't right either. Katie always used the Jacuzzi when she decided to soak; it was even louder than the shower. This sounded like the sink. But what could she be doing at the sink that would take so long?

Alarm bells were sounding in his head. Swiftly but quietly, he got out of the bed and crept to the closed bathroom door. "Darling?" he called softly. "Are you all right in there?"

There was no response.

His mouth went dry as his heart began to beat a frantic tattoo in his chest. He fought to keep his voice calm. "Katie, are you OK?"

Still no answer.

He was really panicking now. "Katie, I'm coming in." He strove for his commanding tone, but it came across as suppressed hysteria. He tried the doorknob.

The door was locked.

Hysteria took over. He put his shoulder to the door and slammed against it, again and again. Finally it flew open, and he collapsed in the doorway. Groaning in pain, he forced himself to focus on the scene within. Immediately all pain was forgotten.

Katie was kneeling on the closed toilet lid, her arms extended over the sink. For one terrifying moment he thought she had cut off her hands somehow. In the next moment he realized it wasn't so; her hands were simply hidden beneath the ruby red water that filled the sink.

She hadn't moved when he burst through the door. Her head was bowed. The ends of her hair trailed in the crimson water. And she was pale, so pale…

Somehow the doctor in him managed to overpower the hysterical husband, at least briefly. The doctor in him jerked Katie's hands out of the dreadful bright water. The doctor examined the cut wrists—they were bad, but he'd found her in time; she'd be all right once they were bandaged. The doctor found the emergency first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet and set about cleaning, medicating, and wrapping the wrists. Through it all Katie sat docile as a child, motionless as a doll, allowing herself to be ministered to.

Once the doctor had attended to the physical crisis, the husband came flooding back. Jonathan couldn't stop himself from seizing Katie's shoulders and screaming into the immobile face, "WHY, KATIE? WHY?"

She had the strangest sense of déjà vu. If you had asked Katie Wayne Crane right then where she was, she would have replied, "Why, Jack's apartment, of course." There were hard fingers biting into her shoulders. There was a screaming man. There was Katie herself, unable to respond, unable to move, unable to think. Any minute his hands would move from her shoulders to her throat…

But of course that didn't happen. Jonathan forced himself to relax his grip on her shoulders. He forced a modicum of control into his voice as he asked again, "Why, Katie?"

She shook her head slightly. This wasn't Jack. This was Jonathan. Her husband. Jonathan had never hurt her. Could never hurt her. He had never loved her the way Jack had, but he had never hurt her the way Jack had either.

He misunderstood the head shake. "You don't know?" he asked. "You don't know why you did this?"

Finally she found her voice. "I was…saving you," she rasped. God, it was so hard to talk. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was lay her head down and rest…just rest…

But he wouldn't let her. "Saving me?" he repeated incredulously. "How can you possibly think you were saving me?"

She turned her head away in irritation. Didn't he see? "Not just…you," she said. "All…of you. Lily, and Alfred, and…" Too tired to go on, she stopped.

He didn't seem angry anymore, but she didn't trust that. Jack hadn't always seemed angry, either. "Saving us from what, Katie?" he asked softly. "From Jack?"

He was beginning to understand, but he still didn't have it. She shook her head again. "Not…Jack…" She had to pause for breath. "Jack…good…would never hurt…saving you from the Joker."

He wanted to question her further, but she was semiconscious. He was afraid to let her go to sleep just yet, though. She had lost a lot of blood. So he did something he would have frowned upon with any other patient: he gave her an amphetamine. Then he took her downstairs to get some food into her, something with iron.

There was a package of hamburger patties in the freezer. That would do. He slapped two into a frying pan, hoping the smell wouldn't wake everyone else in the house. Once the hamburgers were done, he fed them to her like he was feeding an infant, piece by piece from his fingers, with no bun or anything.

After she finished the first patty the color came back into her cheeks, and she seemed a little more alert. Just to be on the safe side he fed her the second before taking her back upstairs.

Once they were back upstairs he sat her in the chair in their room and resumed his questioning.

"Now, can you tell me why you thought killing yourself would help everyone who cares about you?"

She was more or less herself again, and when he put it that way her desperate act did seem foolish. But she managed to explain her reasoning to him: that if she were out of the way, the Joker wouldn't come after anyone else. She had planned to sacrifice herself for her child, her best friend, the man who had raised her…and him, Jonathan.

He could sort of understand where she was coming from. And, flawed as her reasoning was, he couldn't help but feel some admiration for her. She had been willing to die to protect the people she cared about. How many people could say the same? He wasn't sure he could. But he knew one thing: he didn't want to live in a world without Katie.

He couldn't tell her this, however, so he began listing every other reason she had no business killing herself: she couldn't leave Lily without a mother. Alfred would be devastated, might even suffer a heart attack or something; he was far from a young man. Everyone in danger was currently under surveillance, as well protected as possible. The police were actively seeking the Joker. They would catch him soon, and Katie's death would have been for naught.

She interrupted him here. "They won't catch him," she said. "You don't know…you can't know…he won't let them catch him. He's going to come after us sooner or later." her words were calm, matter-of-fact. But her face was a study in heartache, her eyes bottomless pools of pain. He had never been able to stand seeing her in such obvious agony.

He intended to soothe her with some doctorly platitude. But for once in his life, and completely without meaning to, Jonathan Crane did the right thing.

Folding his trembling wife into his arms, he told her, gently but firmly, "It's going to be all right. I won't let him get anywhere near you or Lily. I'll do whatever I have to do to protect you both." He spoke not as a doctor to a patient, but as a man to his wife.

She gazed up at him in astonishment. "Jonathan…" she said slowly. "Jonathan, you love me, don't you? Even now…" Her eyes were wet.

He swallowed hard. "I didn't think you'd ever realize it," he said huskily.

Then she was crying in his arms as she had so many other times, and he was trying to soothe her, whispering, "Don't cry. Don't cry," even as the tears slid down his own cheeks.

"Jonathan,' she wept. "Jonathan, I have to tell you something." She pulled away and took a deep breath. "It's Lily—she's not—I'm not sure who—"

He embraced her again. "I know," he said. "But it doesn't matter now." As he spoke the words he realized they were true. "It doesn't matter," he repeated firmly. "As far as I'm concerned she's our daughter, yours and mine. Please, darling…" Darling. He had always called her darling, but now she could hear the love and tenderness in his voice. Had it always been there? She thought maybe it had.

He's a good man, she realized. My husband is a good man. He had married her even though her heart belonged to another man, one who had warped her mentally and emotionally. He had accepted her child as his own without question, knowing he possibly—probably—wasn't the father. He had borne all that followed—the pills, the depression, the isolation—with what she now saw was a quiet strength and an unending patience. And continued to love her through all of it.

Katie knew what she had to do now. She drew her husband's head to her own and kissed him as she never had before—deeply, passionately. He responded with an intensity and hunger she never could have imagined from him. When the kiss broke, he gazed deep into her eyes, searching for the answer to an unspoken question. When he saw that the answer was yes, for the first time in his marriage he swept his wife into his arms and carried her to their bed.

That night Jonathan Crane followed his heart instead of his head, and was rewarded with his wife's cries of genuine pleasure, her body arching and curling and straining to meet his, her eyes wide open and focused on him, only on him. They made love over and over again, in ways they never had. Katie could hardly believe this inventive, passionate man was the same Jonathan she had always known. He couldn't believe that this insatiable wild thing was the same indifferent Katie.

In between they talked and laughed and behaved like any young couple in love, making love for the first time. They gave one another a guided tour of scars and birthmarks. He told her about his first wet dream; she told him about her boarding-school suitemate's impressive hidden stash of porn. They didn't divulge every bit of their sexual histories. She said nothing about Jack, and he didn't mention that he had lost his virginity at seventeen to a call girl. They kept their recollections light and humorous, and they giggled like children before coupling yet again. It was near dawn before they finally fell asleep, totally spent, wrapped in each other's arms. Both their heads were full of swirling, conflicting emotions—fear, love, and most of all a sense of wonder that the Joker's return had, in a very real way, led them to one another.

--

The sun was streaming through the windows when Katie awoke, but that wasn't what woke her. What woke her was the trail of soft kisses Jonathan was planting on her neck and collarbone, working his way steadily downward.

"Morning," she said sleepily. As she stretched she saw the white gauze on her wrist. So last night hadn't been a dream. Well, she thought as she recalled all the events of the previous night, she could live with that.

"Good morning, darling," he murmured against her skin. "I didn't think you were ever going to wake up."

"What do you need me awake for?" she asked over a yawn, grinning mischievously. She already knew the answer to that.

"I can think of several things," he replied, raising his head to kiss her lightly on the lips. As he did he caught sight of something in the doorway.

"Uh-oh," he said in a mock-serious tone. "Don't look now, but we've got company." Katie raised her head to see Lily hovering in the doorway. "Hello, Curly Locks."

She giggled, but didn't move. She stood there watching the two of them with something close to astonishment. Here were her parents, in the same bed, and kissing. And Daddy was smiling. None of these things occurred very often in Lily's world, especially all of them together.

"Hey, angel," Katie said, holding out her arms. "Come get in with us."

Lily needed no further invitation. Dragging her ancient pink bear behind her, she took a flying leap and landed square in the middle of the bed. This had never happened before! She had often gotten in bed with her mother in the morning, but never while her father was there too. She shot a sideways glance at him to see what he was going to do. But he was still smiling, so she relaxed and snuggled into her mother's arms.

"What happened to your arms, Mommy?" she asked as she caught sight of Katie's bandages.

Katie hesitated for the briefest instant before replying. "Mommy had a little accident. I'm fine, though."

Satisfied with this explanation, Lily turned to Jonathan. "Are you going to work today, Daddy?"

"Nope," Jonathan replied, reaching over to tousle her reddish-blonde curls. "I'm going to stay right here with my two best girls…and I was thinking about making some Mickey Mouse pancakes." His smile grew teasing. "Any takers?"

"ME!" Lily bellowed.

Katie winced. "Jesus, Lily, I need that ear," she said. "And what, may I ask, is a Mickey Mouse pancake?"

"Ask our daughter," Jonathan said as he pulled on his robe. That he had said "our daughter" instead of "your daughter" was not lost on Katie.

"Daddy knows how to make pancakes that look like Mickey Mouse!" Lily bubbled. "He makes a circle for the head, and circles for the ears! He made them for me a lot while you were gone!"

Katie arched an eyebrow. "Mickey Mouse pancakes, huh?" she asked. She couldn't imagine Jonathan making any kind of pancakes, much less with fun shapes. But she was beginning to realize there was a lot about her husband she didn't know.

"What can I say," Jonathan shrugged, "I'm a man of many talents."

"Obviously," she said, getting out of bed and putting on her own robe.

Lily was practically vibrating with joy. "Mommy, Daddy, come on!"

"We're coming," Jonathan said, laughing. He scooped the little girl up and headed for the stairs. "You can help me mix the batter again. We'll make Mommy a special welcome-home breakfast, what do you say?"

As she followed her husband and daughter down the stairs, Katie allowed herself to believe, just for a minute, that everything would be all right after all. They would catch the Joker soon, and everyone would be safe. She and her little family would get their shot at happily ever after.

I love you, Jonathan, she thought as she walked down the stairs behind them. I really do. From now on, I'm going to be the wife and mother you both deserve.

Her hand slipped beneath her robe and found the slim silver chain she always wore. The chain she had never taken off, even for her wedding. Even during her hospitalization at Arkham. The chain she wore in memory of the man who had given it to her, not the monster he had become.

Even…if I can't help but love Jack just a little bit more.

A/N: Sorry if this chapter got a little fluffy at the end, but I figure the Cranes deserve a little fluff right now. It won't last, I can assure you.

It looks like I'm going to have a little extra time off this summer due to budget cutbacks at work (love this economy!) so I'll probably be finishing this story pretty soon. But then I've thought that before. I will try to update faster than I have been of late, however.

CYA time: Mickey Mouse is owned by Walt Disney, the Batverse is owned by DC Comics and assorted others, and my OCs are owned by me. The band Survivor owns the song title "The Search Is Over (You Were With Me All The Time)" which I borrowed for the title of this chapter. Cheesy, yes, but it seems to fit here.

Thanks to my aunt for introducing me to Mickey Mouse pancakes (and chocolate-chip pancakes, but that's another story). And as always, thanks to the readers and reviewers who have stuck with me on this long, strange trip.