*J* (the continuation)

Part Forty-Two: Chapter 313: Needle In A Haystack

Jester's POV

I sat in the back seat and dabbed at my bleeding lip with a handkerchief. My brother sits next to me, snarling and growling like some sort of wild animal. I was pissed off at him. All of this was his damn fault. It's his fault that our half brother was the way he was, and that Harley wasn't protected. It's his fault that Jason just barged in and took her. His fault that we were thrown out into the snow. His fault that everybody was too scared to lift a finger to help us.

But I don't think he even feels a shred of responsibility for any of it. He'd be all too happy to throw it all on my back. In his mind, I was weak and didn't protect his wife. Well call me old fashioned, but where I come from, it's a husband's duty to protect his wife. But where was he while she was being taken? He was fucking Bruce Wayne and not giving one iota of thought to his wife. The wife who he made sure would have the struggle of her life without him. But no, to him, it's my fault.

Sadly, he's not entirely wrong. I was too weak to protect Harley from Jason. I haven't had the physical and mental training, or the Batman/Joker style field training that my half brother had. Jason kicked my fucking ass and I'm not ashamed to admit that. And I do feel guilty for not being able to take him. But shit, you didn't see the way he moved, the manuevers he had. Truth be told, I've never seen J do any of that stuff. So he might not have been able to beat Jason either. But J wasn't there. I was. And I should have done more to try and stop Jason.

I tried to get Harley back, I really did. And if J wouldn't have stripped me of my power, I would have. But he did. And now the same son of a bitch who made all of this happen, is the only one that can find her. Why? Because it's his fucking city. A city bound to him through their terror of him. They're so afraid of what he can do that they unknowingly aid him in doing it. Just give the Joker what he wants and maybe live to see another day. Or defy him and know that his laughing face will be the last you see.

My twin brother has the ability to be the embodiment of your worst nightmares. He's the boogyman tales that parents tell to their children to scare them straight. He's the only villain that even the villains are terrified of. And even I can't deny the sadistically evil streak that ran through him. I've done some very bad things since I met him, but I'm not evil. I don't get off on the suffering of others. I'm not consumed by a firey anger that can't be extinguished. I'm not trying to be a monster who controls everyone through fear.

However, can I really say that for sure? J is my identical twin. Identical... Meaning just maybe the pendulum can swing ether way. Maybe just under my own surface, lurking in the dark and waiting to come out, is the same monster that lives in my brother? Maybe through a lack of traumatic experiences I became this, whereas his abundance of traumas created him. Maybe I'll come to be broken in all the ways he has been.

Identical? Just how deep does identical run? In normal identical twins their fingerprints and an expertly detailed DNA test could set them apart. But J and I don't have fingerprints anymore. And the chemicals in our blood only make us more identical and less distinguishable from one another. Our bodies are identical, though I choose to keep the green eyebrows and am without tattoos. But those are things that are superficial and subject to emulation. The only real thing that separates us as two individuals is our souls. And I really don't want my soul to end up as dark as his is.

"Where we going boss?" Johnny asks as he glances back at us in the rearview mirror.

"Take me to Roman Sionis," he says lowly and stares out at the rain and snow falling together.

"Who's that?" I ask?

"He's part of my crime syndicate," J vacantly answers, "Head drug Lord of Gotham."