Comic Relief

2.

The concrete was moist with rain, droplets still tinking down onto the rooftops. The cool air blew light pieces of trash and leaves along the streets. A few people made their ways into buildings or down alleys, the usual night occupants of the city. Stars dotted across the dark sky. For once the city would have seemed peaceful if not for the haze that eternally lurked over Gotham.

Silence surrounded the rooftop, neither the commissioner nor the dark knight saying a word for some time.

"When we found him he was in pretty bad shape, he was passed out in an alley." Gordon explained, finally breaking the quiet. "He's in one of the high security cells of the station now."

Then Batman spoke up, "What do you plan on doing with him?"

"Well, that's the issue." Gordon sighed, taking a quick puff of his cigarette. "We can't put him back in Arkham because they're rebuilding and don't have enough guards or cells to keep watch on him, and we can't keep him at the station because that's an obvious danger."

"Is there a 'plan C'?" The man shrouded in shadows asked.

Gordon replied, "I was hoping you could help with that."

Batman stood, at first trying to think of a solution to the problem at hand before his mind began to drift.

He had never seen the workings behind the clown's actions; he had seen the actions and their consequences, the process that led to the actions had been displayed openly, but never the why. That's what he wanted to find. He wanted to learn the clown's motive, the way he thought and why. Previously he had believed that Joker didn't have a motive, but in the most recent times he saw the man he seemed different. There was a glint in his eyes that hadn't been there before. There were thoughts behind those acid green eyes, hidden somewhere deep in that mind of mysteries.

Then, an idea sprouted in his head: "I'll keep watch on him."

"What?" Gordon turned to fully face the masked man, shock etched on his face. "You can't do that- I can't just hand over one of Gotham's most wanted to Batman like it's nothing! Besides, where would you even keep him?"

"I know someone."

The commissioner sighed, rubbing his temples in agitation. Mysterious as always. He grumbled something to himself before looking up, "You've had some crazy ideas in the past but this is by far the craziest yet."

"It's the safest option we have." Batman stated.

There was a brief pause of thought, momentary silence sinking in. The sounds of the city reigniting. On one hand there was the obvious problem that Joker wasn't what he seemed - he was much more crafty and intelligent than most would assume - and while commissioner Gordon was sure that if anyone could handle Joker it would be Batman there was the legal aspect to everything, plus if he was wrong and Batman in fact couldn't handle Joker that would put Gotham in even more danger than ever. However, on the other hand, the dark knight was right in saying that this was their safest option. It was their only viable option for that matter.

"Alright," Gordon agreed. "but I can't just give him to you, it's a process. We need to take safety measures."

"I'll have a cell custom built, it'll have the highest possible security system. It'll be inescapable." The bat reassured.

The commissioner nodded, "How long would that take? We can't wait around forever."

"A week at least." Batman said. "I'll need him to be sedated and cuffed when we transfer him from the station, though, we can meet back here when it's time."

"Then it's a deal, a week from now. I'll have everything worked out on the police end over here." Gordon took a final puff from his cigarette before tossing the end to the rooftop beneath his feet.

"I'll contact my sources and make sure everything is prepared." The masked vigilante spoke one last time before he disappeared back into the darkness completely, leaving the commissioner standing alone once again in the rain.

He sighed and looked out into the city. This was probably the most career risking thing he had ever done. If this didn't go as planned he could lose his life work and be forced to retire early, so naturally he was preparing for the worst possible outcome. That outcome being that Joker broke free during the transfer process, wiped out his team with ease, killed Batman, and then ran free on the city with no one able to stop him.

They had lost countless officers to the criminals of Gotham in the past, Joker in particular, and with a plan as likely to fail as this one the number of casualties was bound to double. That wasn't what he was really worried about though- what he was really worried about was the 'kill Batman' part. If Joker were to kill Batman then the entire city was doomed. Not just doomed, but sentenced to a slow and painful death at the Clown Prince of Crime's hands. He would torment and torture everyone. Joker wasn't just a killer, he didn't attack blindly in rage or kill for revenge, he did it for fun. For the sport of it.

That's what Jim Gordan was really worried about. That's what he was scared of.

Then, he looked to the sky, closed his eyes, and frowned. "I hope you're right, Batman."

He began to walk back towards the staircase into the station. Muttering to himself as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

"God help us if you aren't..."

**********

The Batmobile came to a screeching stop as it entered the cave, the wheels turning as the secret entrance closed and the parking space shifted into place. Alfred stood dusting as he usually was, focused on the dirt that had been collected between the keys on the main computer, his brows furrowing as he fussed over a particular crumb that seemed to be extra stuck.

Bruce stepped out of the car and began to walk up the stairs towards the butler. "Alfred," he greeted simply, watching him clean for a moment. The butler didn't look up from his cleaning and put down the duster to switch to tweezers to work more efficiently.

"Ah, Master Bruce," Alfred continued trying to pick the crumb from between the keys. "Welcome back."

"I need a favor," the bat began, his tone nonchalant.

"And that is?" Alfred asked, his frustration with the seemingly invisible to everyone but him speck of dirt growing by the second. Despite him not looking up Bruce could tell he was listening closely.

"I need the safe room remodeled." Bruce said. That's when Alfred abruptly stopped what he was doing and looked up, his normal blank expression replaced by one of confusion.

Alfred's tone matched his expression, "Whatever for?"

The bat replied, "We'll have a guest."

Alfred seemed puzzled by the statement before his face fell to a look of mixed concern and disappointment. However, he didn't express his worry on the matter, simply shaking his head before moving on. He asked, "I assume you need the controls reversed and the locks upgraded?"

"Yes," Batman began, "I'll also need the front panel replaced with bulletproof glass. The kind we had installed on the Batmobile."

"What about the inside?" The butler asked. He picked up his duster and cleaning supplies.

"Everything inside needs to be removed, replaced, or safe-proofed; anything that can be used or could be made into a weapon needs to be moved out of the room." As he removed his cowl and cape, carefully putting them back in the case, Bruce went on, "We need to make sure there isn't even a miniscule chance he can escape."

"Yes, of course, Master Bruce." Alfred moved to the planning table, brushing the barely there layer of dirt away before he sprayed the cleaner. He had gotten used to this: building and rebuilding, remodeling, spending hours a day planning. It was a normal thing when the guy you worked for was Batman.

He wiped away the cleaner and dried it off with a new towel. When he was happy with how shiny it was, he put the cleaning supplies away and brought the blueprint paper and pencils to the table. He jotted down the general ideas needed. That's when Bruce walked over, watching what he was doing for a short moment.

"Oh, one more thing," Bruce piped up. Alfred looked up, unamused as he had already started sketching. Before walking away the masked man said, "we need IVs, meds too. And we need restraints."

Alfred didn't ask, just stared at him as he left. He sighed. "Yes, Master Bruce."