The Aster {Book 1 & 2} (Batman/Joker/Robin/Batgirl story)

1.31. Sanity

There's a knock at the door.

"Yeah?" I call out groggily, twisting as much as I can to see as it opens slowly.

Bruce Wayne walks in. He's wearing a grey suit and a grey expression.

Shit.

He's the last person I want to see right now, I want to see Batman, Robin, anyone to ask what's happening. He promised someone would be there once I got out of theatre.

"Can I come in?" He asks quietly. I look down at his hands, almost expecting to see flowers in them. There are none. That's something at least.

"I guess," I mumble, staring up at the white ceiling to avoid eye contact.

He carefully sits down on the chair beside my bed.

"I - I'm so sorry about your mother," he says at last, his voice cracking a little.

"Thanks," I say flatly. I know if I'm nice the emotions will hit me, I have to fight that for as long as possible. There's an awkward silence, broken only by his next words.

"The umm... doctor gave me this."

He hands over a small black and white picture. I only glance at it for a second before looking away. It's a sonogram. The baby is small, only just about a recognisable shape... but it's there. Alive. Like me.

I give it back to him carelessly.

"You keep it."

He tucks it into his jacket pocket, his demeanour suddenly beginning to change, his body language becomes less gentle, less sympathetic.

"There's something you need to know."

"What?" I keep my eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling.

"I'm Batman."

I catch my breath. He's lying he must be. But how? How does he know about my connection with Batman? Through Dick? Why is he saying this?

"I don't believe it."

He sighs.

"You've been training almost every day at the Batcave with Barbara. You've just hit level twenty."

"There's plenty of ways you could have found that out," I interrupt crassly. I want him to cut this crap.

"Barbara and Dick captured the Joker and he's in an escorted prison van headed to Arkham as we speak."

"And Harley Quinn?"

"She escaped."

"This could be on the news for all I know," I shrug, outwardly remaining as detached as I physically can. But on the inside I feel like I'm being stabbed. "Tell me... tell me something that nobody else could know."

His eyes lock with mine. They're blue. Kind of light, with thick darker ring encompassing the iris. Just like mine.

"At the theatre... the Joker tortured you until I told him why I cared so much about you. And I said it's because you're my daughter."

I shake my head.

"You're lying!"

He reaches out and gently touches my hand. I stiffen but I don't move it away.

"I'm not Meredith," his voice is soft, like he's talking to a child. "After your mother had your sister, she was very unhappy in her marriage. We had dated in college and one day we met again... we were only together for a few weeks."

"Why did you break it off?" I ask quietly. My mind is still trying to process it all, I'm trying to understand why I can't believe it, why I don't want to believe it.

"She wanted to try and fix things with her husband. I never knew she had fallen pregnant, if I had..." he trails off, shaking his head. "I only found out that day I came to your house."

I bite my lip as tears start to prick at the back of my eyes. You will not cry, you will not cry.

This man I've hated and planned on destroying for so long is my father. It's almost funny. And I don't know what it is, if it's the emotion or the painkillers or the shock but all I want to do is laugh. What a joke.

"Do you want to hear something funny?" I don't know what I'm doing, what I'm saying. All I know is I just have to hurt him one last time before I give in, give up to him. Everything lies in his hands now.

"I'm having the Joker's kid."

I watch the metamorphosis of his face, the lines in his skin. I don't know what the expressions mean, I can't translate them into words. Anger or fear. One of the two, maybe both. No. It's fear. I can see that now.

Fear of me?

The door suddenly clicks opens a little but neither of us flinch. Our eyes remain locked, fused together. It's like we're reading each other's souls. I know now he can see my fear too.

"The patient needs to rest now," the voice of a nurse announces apologetically but inarguably firmly.

Bruce Wayne stands without a word, suddenly I can't read his expression anymore. Batman has shut me out.

The door closes behind him. I'm alone again.

I can't just lie here, I can't. I'll go insane. The panic attacks - they're beginning to start, I know they are. I need to do something, something to distract me.

I know. I know what I can do.

As slowly and carefully as I can I ease myself up into an upright position, screwing my face up in pain with every little move.

I manoeuvre myself off the bed in slow motion, keeping a tight grip on it's metal structure as I stagger over to the small basin in the corner of the room.

I look at my reflection in the mirror, it gets bigger and more hideous with every step. My face is black and blue, my eyes swollen almost to the point where they're shut. There's a row of black stitches running down from my cheek to the edge of my lips.

But this isn't what I came to see.

I gently pull the white bows of the hospital gown apart and watch it fall gracefully to the floor.

I stare at my naked reflection.

My body is bruised, cut but apart from that unharmed.

I slowly start to turn away from the mirror, twisting my neck to see the reflection of my back.

At first it's a smile. But then the laughter comes. The uncontrollable, insane laughter. The whole hospital must think I've lost my mind.

I haven't. Or maybe I have.

How would you react if you saw the word 'JOKER' carved indelibly into your flesh?