Alter-Ego (Batman fanfic)

Chapter twenty three- slade

Chapter twenty three- Slade

Bruce's POV:

When Fox had pulled me into the other room and handed me the synthesized antidote to the Happy Juice, Joker poison, whatever the hell you wanted to call it, I knew right away that I had to make as much of it as I could in the cave and get it to that hotel for any who needed it.

I knew it hurt her when I left the way I did, but relationships could be fixed, they could wait, Batman couldn't. I had to be at the top of my game right now or there was no way I was going to be able to live with myself.

I could have killed the Joker a long time ago and avoided this entire thing, all the death and destruction could have stopped if it were only that I didn't possess such cowardice. The Joker only cared about me, making me suffer, making me watch as he tortured the city I loved, and killed the people I cared for.

"It's ready," Alfred spoke, filling up a giant container with the antidote. There was no time to test the stuff out, I just hope it would save some lives.

"is the tank ready to go?"

"No, after what you put it through this morning, Mr. Fox said it wouldn't be ready for weeks."

"damnit," I slammed my fist onto a metal table, then leading against it. I already wasted so much time, another second could be another life, I don't have a minute to think about how I'm supposed to get the container to the hotel.

"Master Bruce, might I suggest myself taking the antidote to the Marionette, in one of my person vehicles?" Alfred offered.

"No, pull off the plates, I have to go."

"my car isn't fast."

"No, but if he Joker finds out you are delivering the antidote I can't say he'd be stupid enough to not put two and two together, I fear he is already too close."

Alfred and I carried the container outside to the back of the mansion and loaded the metal drum in the back seat, afterward I used a batarang to unscrew the plates and discarded them I the lawn. Alfred owned a 1978 Mini Cooper, which went about the speed of a turtle, sleeping, and it just barely managed to hold the metal drum full of the maybe answer to the situation.

Alfred saluted me away in the peppy British car, as I stomped down hard on the old engine, peeling out the stiff tires, and lurching forward before I had the chance to gain any speed. It would have originally taken me about ten minutes in the tank to get there, but with the cooper is at least have to double it.

I swerved with little regard for the cars ability to corner, through the small gaps in traffic, which happened to be fairly scarce as I was headed into the city, and everyone else was trying desperately to escape.

With the recent events the city was beginning to fall into a scene more relatable to a desert than a city which never seemed to stop moving. People had locked themselves in their own homes and apartments, desperate to not be victim to one of the many attacks on Gotham tonight.

In the distance I saw the commotion around the Marionette, a mile away straight ahead in the distance. I pushed the little car to its limits, mostly because I feared that in any given time span another could face death, and also because seeing a usually tank riding vigilante inside a small and old British museum piece wasn't exactly the image I was trying to get across.

A few yards in front of the hotel I turned the steering wheel hard so the car made a full 180° turn and ended up facing backwards to the hotel. Police and EMT both looked in awe as I stumbled out of the car and yanked from the back the steel metal drum with my concoction.