*J* (the continuation)

Part Thirty-Eight: Chapter 283: How Many, How Much, How Long

Jason's POV

How long has it been now? How many times have I watched as the Bat Signal blazened through the Gotham night sky? A city calling out to it's caped crusader to rescue it, yet again, from peril. A task so dangerous that it's not worth risking or losing valuable police lives. A head to head match with the worst criminals the city had to offer. And he will go, without a please or the promise of a thank you, to risk his life for Gotham. The morning Gazette will speak of his heroics and selflessness, but they don't know the real truth.

The truth was that old Bat was actually almost as selfish as the criminals he took on under the guise of vigilante justice. His real reason was to sate his own sadistically masochistic agenda. Atonement. Because he blamed himself for his parents deaths. So if a criminal kills him, he considers it vigilante justice for his own sins. And night after night, he will continue being the bat, until he's finally reached that final end game. And when he's gone, some other sap will take up the illusion of his cause. Perhaps they'll have a masochistic atonement of their own to fullfil. Or maybe it would be the declaration of avenging their fallen hero that drives them.

How many times have I watched, from my plexiglass prison, as he suits up and rushes to the Batmobile? How many times has it taken me back to the memories of when I was his Robin, fearlessly fighting along side of him? How many times has it made me nostalgic? And how many times am I left with a pang of regret, wishing things hadn't gone down the way they did? How many times have I blamed him? Or myself? How many times have I felt sorry for him and his ties to tragedy? How many times have I stood watching him leave as I gnash my teeth in hatred of him and his stupid cause?

Before you ask, yes, those are all my opinions and they have nothing to do with any chemicals still lingering in my blood. J, believe it or not, had a much more romantic view of the tragedy that is Bruce Wayne. And I don't mean that in a relationship or sex kind of a way. J liked to think that Bruce lived for him. For what he called their "dance". J believed that one could not exist without the other, and if something happened to one of them the other would just give up. Give up on everything that they once saw as a cause. But then, the Joker has always convinced himself of ideas most would call a messiah complex of insanity.

I, possibly more than anyone, understand the inner workings of the Joker's soul. I did more than just observe him. I was molded by the devil himself. I literally wandered through his mind. I underwent every last event that created him. In what were supposed to be the last days of his life, my brother trained me how to be him. An act that had to be portrayed so flawlessly that it fooled the ones who knew him best. And I owned that shit. At twenty-one years old I was running the empire J built at the same age. And in doing so, parts of my own soul were awakened. They could never be made to lie dormant again. For J had shown me the truth about the world. You see, the craziest thing about the Joker is how right he truly is.

But Bruce taught me that a well structured justice system could work. But sometimes it needed a helping hand to get the wheels in motion. He taught me to believe that even the most evil people had good inside of them. He believed that with rehabilitation the good could be drawn out. Even with the likes of the Joker.

Bruce envisioned a Gotham where a couple and their young child could walk down an alley without care. A Gotham without crime, so that they could live in harmony. Bruce dreamed of a Gotham than I longer needed Batman. Albeit, it was a beautiful fantasy. Perfectly crafted by a devistated child that witnessed the murder of its parents.

But it was nothing but an unobtainable daydream. Something conjured up from the placidity of a Prozac polluted mind. The cup half full. The rose tinted glasses. The hoping for the better. It was the blind investment of your faith into a crooked justice system that just didn't work. It was a naive notion. A false security. A bedtime prayer. It would never work or be real, and I just couldn't buy into such bullshit