Chapter Text
Dear Master Jason
Do forgive me for writing to you like this. Meeting face to face is truly the only way such a conversation can be done justice, but seeing as I do not have your phone number I could not call and announce my visit.
While I certainly remember your passionate stances on the pointlessness of such formalities, I simply could not overstep. It would be very unbecoming of me.
However, I must admit, even then I would hesitate. You see, as the years go by my heart becomes easier to pierce and quiver. Though my mind understands the many reasons you might not wish to even speak to me, the idea of facing such an event saddens me to my core. Instead of taking the fight head on, I wrote this instead.
I wonder if I have ever done anything more cowardly.
I wish to see you my boy, but I am no old fool just yet. I understand how both your father and I have failed you irrevocably. When you needed us most we focused on the wrong aspects of the problems in front of us. Though we loved you, we caused pain in our ignorance.
I have not forgiven myself for this, and I doubt I ever truly will.
This letter isn’t about me however. I did not write this to ease the guilt my soul feels, but to finally try and do right by you for once. You deserve to know you were truly loved, and are so to this day. You also deserve an apology.
I am truly sorry I failed to guide you when you were suffering lad. I am sorry I did not do a better job of demanding respect be put on your name after your passing. I am sorry we made you feel unloved for even a second, even unknowingly.
If I had another lifetime and the wit of the Bard himself to properly convey the pure joy I felt when I saw your face after three long years I would still not be able to do the job justice.
Fate found it in her heart to grant you life despite the blunders Bruce and I have made and I cannot be more grateful to the Lord for gracing all of us with such an endless kindness.
Miracles truly do happen it would seem, even to an old tired soul such as mine.
If by some chance you have it in your heart to see me, I shall gladly put the kettle on at any time. You have no need to announce yourself at all my boy.
Though, I imagine your visit will most likely come after your mission. I do not mind the wait. The others had their doubts of your identity but I could feel it in my bones it was truly you.
I have only ever met two people that embody the righteousness of the tragic heroes so viscerally. The first was my son. The second was my grandson.
All I ask, though I have no right to, is that you please be careful. I do not need to warn you of the double edged blade that is revenge. Keep your head high, do not bow down to base instincts and do not trust the anger blindly.
In all your endeavors I wish you good luck and Godspeed Master Jason.
Lovingly yours,
Alfred Pennyworth
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Sleep is hard to come by when you need it most.
On days that you know will affect your future, your thoughts run rampant with possibilities. The thoughts end up being so strong they chase away all the dreams, leaving you staring at ceilings and walls. Turning from one side of the bed to the other, as if the new position will hold the answer you need to calm down. Anxiety at what is to come making your heart run a marathon even as you lie still.
And though they are miles apart two souls find themselves in this position for the exact same reason.
Today would be the last day of trial.
Today Batman made a last stand to plead for the Joker’s life.
Jason gave up on sleep after the sun came up. He instead decided to get ready for the trial hours early, simply so he could have something to do. He did his morning routine, his exercises and was fully dressed when Talia walked into his room to see if he was awake.
She took in Jason’s tense form, the pale skin telling her he hadn’t slept at all, and watched as he combed through his hair with more force than necessary. Like this, all his confidence seemed stripped away. She couldn’t allow him to leave like this.
Luckily a solution came easily to her as she took in his worn leather jacket and jeans.
“You should change your outfit.”
Jason shot her a confused look though the mirror.
“I wore this exact thing the other day. It’s fine.”
“That day you went as a victim. Today you go as the victor. You should dress to show it.”
“Oh, and what exactly does a ‘victor’ look like?”
Talia glided over to Jason’s temporary closet and pulled out a covered outfit, one Jason certainly does not remember putting there.
“A gift for your success lamb. Trust when I say it will ease your doubts. It is rather interesting how a bold outfit can inspire confidence.”
Now, Jason hates suits on principal. For him, getting in a suit means he’s either going to a funeral or Bruce was dragging him to a party. Both events leave him drained and miserable so he wears suits as little as possible. Talia says it’s a shame since they look good on him but the price isn’t worth the reward.
“I am not wearing a suit. Just cause the whole courtroom looks like a bunch of pretentious assholes doesn’t mean I have to too. All that that would inspire is me looking for the nearest shallow grave.”
She raised an eyebrow without comment and removed the cover, leaving Jason surprised when, instead of the coal black he expected, a dark red pooled over the coat hanger. Blood red.
“Do you think I would allow you to simply blend in?”
The material was soft to the touch, and Jason had to admit it looked striking. Among the sea of blue and black it would certainly stand out. Red always caught the eye better. It left impressions. Jason had used red as his primary Robin color for a reason after all.
Red meant you weren’t afraid to be looked at. A way to keep the attention of attackers on him, while the people he saves remember the red bird afterwards.
‘Look at me. I’m not afraid of you.’
The magic that came with Robin made Jason believe that.
He hated suits with a passion, it was true. The suit he had died in inspired more confidence than anything in the world ever could. Nothing he will ever wear will come even close to it, so why try? Hasn’t he learned that calling attention to people who don’t deserve it ends in misery?
No matter what Jason wears he’ll never feel that magic again.
But he remembers the feeling. He knows it had worked, once upon a time.
‘Look at me. I’m not afraid of you.’
Maybe, just maybe, Jason doesn’t have to believe in it. Maybe he just needs others to.
He needs that to be the last thing Joker sees as they send him to hell.
He hates suits. But this one time he can make an exception.
-----------------------------------------------------
Bruce watched through the cameras as Tim helped Basil act more natural. The resemblance was perfect, Basil got his features down to the hairs in his eyebrows. The acting on the other hand-well, Basil’s earliest critics all agreed on one thing. He tended to be overly dramatic.
‘Why Timothy you dashing lad! Have you seen what the scoundrels are accusing me of?’ Basil-Bruce pulled out a silk handkerchief and started dabbing at his eyes. ‘Oh, how could Jason do this to the family? If only my poor parents were here now, to help guide me but no! They were mercilessly gunned down in a alley when I was but a child! Oh, I have never been the same without mama and papa’s guidance.” He blew his nose into the hanky. ‘I can hear mama’s favorite piano ballad now-“
Tim let out a sigh of pure agony. “Mr. Basil, with all due respect I think I have a better idea.”
Basil-Bruce turned his nose up at the criticism but motioned for Tim to go on.
“If you could just act mute that would be great.”
Alfred’s familiar footsteps started echoing down the cave. Turning to his old friend Bruce switched the camera feed off as Basil squawked at Tim’s ‘insulting input’. Bruce wasn’t worried for Tim, seeing as the boy had three different devices on him to stop the shape-shifter immediately.
“I suppose sleep is pointless for a man who can simply hide the bags under his eyes behind a cowl.”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“That much I assumed. Stage fright? Or is it perhaps that pesky conscience acting up again?”
Bruce clenched his jaw at the words. Standing from his chair he walked the short distance to Jason’s memorial. The warped image of Bruce Wayne overlaid the muted colors Jason had died in.
The memorial dome was built so Bruce couldn’t destroy it, but a side-effect he hadn’t planned on, a side-effect that felt like it had to be planned by a spirit of punishment, was that anyone who stared at Jason’s suit would also stare at their own reflection.
‘Look at me. I died for you.’
Jason had never been afraid of death. The boy ran up to machine guns as if they were filled with water and not bullets. Taunting criminals three times his size like he was untouchable. No, Jason was never scared of dying. That fact terrified Bruce more than any other.
How do you teach boundaries to a soul that doesn’t stop itself when faced with its own demise?
He had always had a problem with Bruce’s methods. Too forgiving, too weak. The punishment never fit the crime if the crime went over a line in Jason’s head.
How do you teach a boy who sees himself as disposable that no one is disposable?
At first these problems seemed easily solvable to Bruce, but the more time passed…the more Bruce understood Jason’s issues weren’t things he could fully grasp. They had shared a lot of pain but the causes were so drastically different. What Jason needed was more than just Bruce.
But by the time Bruce accepted his own lacking Felipe Garzonas fell to his death.
When Bruce looks at Jason’s suit he’ll always see the cause along with the consequences.
Bruce Wayne pushed his own son into the Joker’s hands out of ignorance and denial. Bruce Wayne spent three years of his life trying desperately to show Jason his life mattered, only to teach him Robin was the part that was important. Bruce Wayne brought a child into his crusade and looked the other way when things didn’t go his way.
The memorial dome was built so it wouldn’t destroy as Bruce slammed his fists into his own reflection like a man possessed.
‘Look at me. I died because of you.’
“Dick called last night. He’s not showing up to trial.”
Alfred hummed. “Did he say why?”
“No. But the message is clear enough. He’s not getting involved any further.”
“And this upset your sleep sir?”
“No.”
It was the way Dick sounded that upset him.
Like a weight had been lifted from his back.
“Ah, so it must be stage fright after all. Have you planned out your speech sir? Do we have to go though some speech training like in the old days?”
“I’m not going to give a speech.”
“Aren’t you sir? I do believe your goals are only achievable if you manage to sway a juror to your cause. Considering the facts of the case are iron clad a speech to appeal to the higher morals of the jury seem like the only option.”
Bruce swallowed, unable to deny it.
“Quite right. We can call it a testimony if you wish but-why not call a spade a spade. “
“If you have something to say Alfred, say it. This roundabout passive aggressiveness isn’t helping.”
Alfred raised a single eyebrow, straitened his back.
“Very well. I will say it simply then sir. For once in my life, in all my years of service, I truly hope you lose Master Bruce. I know you have a vow, and will not break it no matter what. It is a great strength one must possess to keep to such a thing as valiantly as you have. I know how killing would destroy you, and I am grateful you save yourself every time you chose not to take a life. However, this one time. I sincerely believe ending that sick creature is for the benefit of us all. And if Master Jason’s involvement will bring the boy some peace of mind than this one time, can’t we turn the other cheek and let the uglier emotions play their part?”
“It never stops at ‘once’. You know it never stops at ‘once’ Al. This isn’t the help Jason needs-it’s just like before. Just like when I thought helping others would be enough to curb his anger. It won’t be enough. He’ll keep calling for justice until that burning need in him burns everything down. It’ll destroy him and take the city with it. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.”
Bruce turned back to the memorial, to the glass that despite its indestructible build had cracks on its surface, and the face that glares between them.
“I won’t let him think his life is an acceptable price. Not again.”
-----------------------------------------------------
Trial reconvened to an audience many hadn’t expected.
Beyond all the Gothamites that watched the proceedings without blinking, the news of Batman promising to attend reached far and wide, earning the attention of curious people all around the globe. You could find families gathered around their televisions in Texas. Students in Paris watching the livestream on their smartphones. A superhero fan in Egypt doing his chores as he listens to the radio transmission. Workers in Japan placing bets on whose wining the trial.
Everyone wanted to see a living legend step into daylight.
But no one more than the Gothamites themselves. Seeing the opportunity for some good publicity, the mayor set up a huge screen in Union plaza, gathering hundreds of excited citizens. Every single feed, blog, forum, app was flooded with comments and reactions, people livestreaming their reactions as the trial goes live. A lot of them were even wearing shirts to match the occasion. ‘Get nasty’, ‘Time for clown chowder’ and ‘Hand me a crowbar’ merch as far as the eye could see.
The screen lit up to a roar of cheers.
-----------------------------------------------------
Once again, Jason and Talia sat in their front row seats. Talia’s professional cut black suit complementing Jason’s eye-catching red.
Bruce Wayne walked in with a nervous looking Tim Drake. Many immediately noted the absence of Dick Grayson and started whispering to each other on the topic. Jason smirked at the way their body double had none of Bruce’s body language. He moved far too hesitantly, thinking every move twice over probably.
Jason would bet Tim’s frustrations weren’t about the trial as much as the stooge they got to play Bruce.
After the Joker was wheeled in, the courtroom was finally ready to start, the judge walking out.
Silence fully engulfed them with the judge’s opening word. The defense attorney stood and called Batman to stand nervously.
Jason fiddled with his coat sleeve, focusing on the way his nail scrapped against the smooth fabric. It was the only noise he could hear. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths, looking for the soul that would stand up and reveal themselves as Batman.
A large object fell over the courtroom window. It blocked out the sun, casting a shadow over the back of the room. Then the next window followed. The middle darkened as well. The last window turned black and Jason shivered as the heat of the sun disappeared from his skin. People started to panic, a woman making her way to the door when the emergency lights above blew out as well, pitching the room into pure darkness. The woman screamed.
Following her panic, chairs scrapped around, bodies started pushing against each other. No one got very far, the lack of sight causing everyone to bump into one another.
Jason and Talia stayed seated of course, counting the seconds.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five and light finally returned to the courtroom, the heavy tarps that were on the windows falling away.
Batman sat on the witness stand.
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“Wait, if that’s Batman then who’s sitting next to the kid?”
“Truly, that cannot be a mere body double, can it? The resemblance is uncanny.”
Flash sighed, rummaged through his pocket and slid a fifty over to a smug John Stewart. This got a raised eyebrow from Green Arrow.
“What was the bet?”
Barry petulantly leaned his head against the table. “I bet Bats would call Martian Manhunter to body double for him. And as we can see-“ Barry waved his hand towards the Martian sitting at the end of the table, “I lost.”
They all turned to look at Manhunter, who noticed the attention and raised his hand in a small wave.
“Hello.”
They turned back to Barry, slightly confused by the look of it.
“Hey, you’re right! Why didn’t he call J’ohn? Not like we haven’t done him solids before.”
Barry shrugged. “Beats me. I figured he wasn’t social enough to be friends with more than one body morphing individual.”
A snort came from Green Lantern. “When was the last time he asked any of us for anything personal Flash? Think about it.”
The friends all thought back but it was Superman who first reached the conclusion John was looking for.
“Before Robin died.”
“Precisely. And this is personal-personal. He found himself someone who wouldn’t be an emotional connection. It’s like how telling strangers your problems is easier than telling friends.”
Barry looked carefully to the fake Bruce and tried another guess.
“Miss Martian?”
“Training the team downstairs.”
“Magic?”
“He hates magic.”
“Robot?”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“Isn’t there a shapeshifter in Gotham? The uh-mud dude!”
“Clayface? Bruce doesn’t work with villains.”
Barry sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. That one was a bit of a stretch.”
-----------------------------------------------------
The courtroom stared at the black mass at the witness table. He stared back. The judge recovered first, clearing his throat and pointing him hammer at the man.
“Show up to my courtroom like that again and I’ll hold you in contempt of court. I don’t care if you’re Bigfoot, we’ll find a way to charge you.”
The shadow nodded, which seemed to let air back into the courtroom. Slowly people made their way back into their chairs, no one taking their eyes away from the legend in front of them.
Finally all the players had taken their spots. The boy in red who cried for justice. The clown in white who laughed at justice. The man in mask who insisted on justice. None of them spoke of the same thing. All over the backdrop of an audience waiting to hear exactly what ‘justice’ looks like.
The guard that swore Batman in looked rather starstruck.
“Defense attorney, the witness is yours.”
Mr. Fell stood and awkwardly stared at Batman from halfway across the room. To the audience, he looked like he forgot his questions from the shock. To Jason he looked lost for some reason. To Bruce he looked embarrassed, probably due to the fact Fell realized he never asked Batman what to ask him on stand.
The awkward silence stretched on.
“Mister Fell. Your questions.”
Fell cleared his throat and nodded frantically.
“Right! Um, right my questions. I um-Mister Batman, Sir, um were you in Ethiopia when things went down?“
Next to Jason Talia scoffed at the stupid question.
Batman’s gravelly voice sounded through the courtroom. “I was.”
“Um, what were you doing there?”
“I was following the Joker. He had escaped Arkham and I had to return him as quick as possible.”
“I’m guessing you heard the prosecution’s theory?”
“I have.”
“Well um-“ Fell waved his hand around, “what do you think of it?”
Batman stayed silent for a moment.
His gaze lifted from the attorney to the boy in red in front of him. Jason stared back.
“I came here today to say I’m sorry.”
The crowd reeled, whispers quickly trading around them. Jason kept his eyes forward.
“For not saving you, and your mother. For letting you wander for three years. All this time I thought you were gone, another victim I had failed to save. Instead, you faced horrible things when you should have been with Bruce. I’m sorry you were caught up in a fight that didn’t involve you. You have every right to be angry at all of us.”
The prosecutor stood up. “Objection you honor, the witness isn’t answering the question.”
“Sustained. Witness, the question.”
“Jason was caught up in the events just as he described. The one thing I can witness to however is the fact Wayne was completely unaware of Jason’s survival.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I told Wayne he was dead before I placed Jason in a hospital. I made a belivable enough body replica and left it in the ruins. The body was made from decomposing materials, so even if you pulled the coffin out of the ground there will be no body.”
Jason stared wide eyed as Batman just admitted to all the bullshit Jason had come up with a year ago. He hadn’t expected it, in all honestly Jason thought Bruce was going to try and maintain a squeaky clean image for both parties.
Perhaps Bruce decided to cut his loses.
The people around him however, had vastly different reactions.
“Sweet Jesus did he just admit to kidnapping the kid?”
“What the fuckkkkkkk”
“Batman told Wayne his kid was dead??? That’s horrifying?”
The judge called for order and Batman continued.
“I couldn’t allow Bruce to take him back. Joker was fully convinced Jason was Robin, if he had hear Jason was alive- he would have told everyone in Arkham Jason was Robin. The boy would have been killed in days. I needed Joker to think him dead. I faked the death, along with the terrorist threats.”
Silence.
The judge asked the next question.
“Mr Wayne are you alright?”
All eyes turned to Basil-Bruce who seemed to have turned as red as a tomato, tears in his eyes.
“I- How could you!” Dramatically leaping to his feet Basil lashed his arm out towards the caped crusader. “We were friends! More so-I thought you were like a brother to me-“ Basil sobbed. “Did all those late night poetry sessions along the river mean nothing to you!?”
Tim sprang to his feet as well, grabbing the hysterical actor around the writs and leading him out, apologizing as he went. And thus Basil exited- stage right.
As people echoed ‘poor Bruce’ Jason tried to piece together where Batman was going with this. Why admit to such a thing at all? Unless-
“You were scared of the Joker for him?”
“The Joker is a fear all of Gotham shares. He is unpredictable, because he is insane.”
Unless he needed a convenient segue.
“Er, the doctor said-“
“The doctor stated his opinion. Just as the doctors before him stated their opinion. One man who says he is sane against a sea of those who say otherwise. I have faced many foes but none-“Batman looked towards the Joker, voice somehow going deeper. “none are as unstable as that man. He is beyond sick.”
“I am? Is it contagious Batsy?”
The attorney fidgeted. He wasn’t sure what to ask next.
“Your honor. May I ask a favor.”
The judge raised his eyebrows in surprise at the unorthodox request, even more so one done by Batman. He nodded.
“You called me here today because you wished to hear my side of the events correct?”
“That’s what a witness is typically for yes.”
“May be allowed to speak freely then? I wish to say something.”
The judge seemed to be stuck somewhere between disbelief and confusion. Seemingly giving up on regular procedure he allowed it.
“I believe the Joker is not capable of answering for his decisions. The man he was before was broken and twisted into insanity. However, I wish to protect this city for all of us.” Batman paused. “I came here today to apologize for what I did, and for what I am about to do. I also came here today to do the one thing no one else will, and ask for you to spare the Joker’s life.”
The crowd was mostly thrown into disbelief, along with a few angry comments. Jason straightened his back and clenched his jaw, Talia’s arm a steady weight against his wrist.
“This trial isn’t procedure. It should be stopped, retried with more evidence and experts. People who were harmed by the Joker should not be on the jury. The defense should work on presenting the other side of the argument. As is, this trial is laughable. Even just the fact I’m allowed to attend is showcasing how far this has all gone.”
The judge didn’t like that. His face became pinched.
“Gotham is a city filled with grief and suffering. You have all felt it on your skin. It’s been many years as I’ve worked to pull this city into a better light, into something where we no longer have to resort to violence to solve our problems. But I am simply a temporary solution to a problem far far greater. Gotham will never truly get better until all of its citizens draw a line in the sand between the lives they wish to live and the violence that plagues them. We mustn’t stoop to using the same tactics as the criminals.
We cannot use murder to stop murder. Death is not something one can come back from. I fight in the name of progress. Bruises can heal, as can broken bones. We do not have the right to take life away when we can’t give it back. I refuse to do the one deed which cannot be healed.”
“Well, I don’t know about that one Batsy. The kid seems to have healed fine to me.” The clown giggled at his own words.
“If today’s verdict ends with a death penalty we will be plunging Gotham into the dark ages. Joker will only be the start to the bloodshed. The others who reside in Arkham will fall under the same precedent. But who says it will stop there? If we argue all those mentally ill will never get better, people will start to fear anyone who has issues. Going to a mental facility will once again become a massive stigma. All the progress that has been made will crumble. Truly mentally ill people will be doomed because of one man who may or may not be insane, and this will happen under the law. “
“What in the world is he talking about?”
“A precedent maybe? But what’s the big deal, not like Arkham is full of upstanding citizens.”
“I think he’s saying people will start witch hunts against anyone who’s mentally unstable so another Joker never happens.”
“Could that really happen.”
“He’s Batman. When is he ever wrong.”
Jason grit his teeth in time to his breathing. The audience had no idea just how often Batman was wrong.
Batman turned to the jury, white lenses flashing in the light.
“Do not let anger lead this city. Do not undo all the strides we have made towards a better society. We must be stronger. Gotham need to rise from its own ashes but it can’t do that if it drowns in blood every day. Let him live. Gotham will outlive.”
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“For my final word I can only remind the jury that it is not the job of this court to decide on the destiny of Gotham. It is to conclude whether or not the Joker is guilty of his crime. I believe we have proven beyond a reasonable doubt that he is. Though Joker’s sanity is questionable we have a professional who states he is fit to stand trial. No man dressed in an animal suit can state otherwise and expect us to just believe it.
Whether Batman likes believing it or not, Gotham drowns in blood every day anyway. The difference is, today we can choose whose blood it is. The innocent, or the guilty.
A society doesn’t crumble quite as easily as Batman claims. We shall judge all who come to court like we have the Joker. To truly become a better society we have to start dealing with our problems directly, and the only way to do so is here. In court. Not relying on vigilantes and children!
It is time Gotham cleaned house. And we have to start by getting rid of the roaches. We finish this today and no one will have to suffer like Jason has suffered, caught in a game of cat and mouse that never ends. This is just one family that was destroyed. Imagine all the ones that didn’t get a voice. Imagine the ones we can save.”
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“Erm, for my final word I want to say Mister Batman said everything I had to say.”
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The jury was taken into a different room to deliberate on their decision. The court went into intermission. Joker seemed bored now that Batman had disappeared, vanishing when the prosecution gave their final word. Jason knocked on the wooden bench he sat on. The world watched from afar as this one room held Gotham by the throat.
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GOTHAM HARBINGERS
Yes, this is the blog where the "Invade Metropolis with a goth army" plan started. No, we do not accept constructive criticism.
Gothamite1456 said:
OMG.OMG.OMG. Batman hid Jason from Bruce to keep him safe??? And Bruce never knew??? And Jason thought the entire time his family abandond/killed him😭😭😭 I'M IN ACTUAL TEARS THOSE POOR PEOPLE.
Aquaman'sFishStick said:
Maybe someone should tell Batman you can't actually find a jury full of people without one of them being a Joker victim lmao
UpUpAndBackIntoBed said:
Erm, am I missing something, how exactly is this trial not fair? Not our fault Joker got a lousy attorney smh. Does Batman know something I don't?
Cassidy said:
Are we really going to let a man who breaks the law every night to go around the city dressed like a bat and assaults criminals lecture us on following the law? A man who bends the rules of the court so he doesn’t have reveal his identity, telling us we can’t bend the rules of the court to get rid of a threat to public safety. It’s a joke. Batman’s a hypocrite, through and through.
Mia said:
If Batman were really the hero he thinks he is, you’d think he’d care more about protecting innocent lives than defending murderers. He says no one has the right to choose whether a person deserves to die, but honestly? That’s bull. He can tell himself that all he wants, but in reality, if the Joker gets to walk away from this because of Batman, then from now on, more than ever, every single life he ruins? That’ll be Batman’s fault. Inaction is a choice. You don’t get to point out how clean your hands are compared to everyone else’s when you’re hogging all the soap and water.
CG said:
Batman is a fucking idiot. Even worse the bastards a traitor. Everyone wants that clown dead. I swear, if he gets the clown a pass I'm grabbing my shotgun and going to Arkham myself. Fucking clown lover. 🤬🤬🤬
Wisetypewriter said:
If Batman wants us to follow the LETTER of the Law, then arrest him. Put him on trial right here and now for vigilantism. No arguing back, Batman. Give yourself to the police, take off your mask and show the whole fucking world the truth of your convictions. Either that, or shut the hell up, you hypocrite.
Bighead_who_likes_the_moon21 said:
Who made it his place to be Batman, "The Hero of Gotham" anyway? Was it Wayne who gave him that right? What authority did he have to give you the ok to break the law every night, and apparently get away with it, Scott free?
MoonGoddessKiana said:
I know that legally Joker needs to be charged with this crime specifically as well as legally sane but everyone knows what a monster he is and how Arkham and Blackgate are revolving doors that don't do anything. Sure some of the other Gotham rogues may be insane and struggling with mental health but the Joker is a whole other thing. The system is completely broken and I hope that if it isn't the death penalty then it's somewhere where the Joker can't escape from at least and a life sentence. The other rogues might be able to become better with better help but the Joker, he's what scares everyone in Gotham more than almost anything and we'd sleep so much easier if he was gone. Just somewhere he can't escape from is the bare minimum.
DistractionsDistructions said:
I totally agree with CG. Let's blow the place up. The clown is obvs guilty. #GetHim
Bighead_who_likes_the_moon21 said:
What happened to Jason should've hit close to home. Hell it should've crippled the home, like that poor young man! You saw his limping right? The fact that he's doing this by the books should be a perfect chance of true justice, and absolute closure. Is it revenge? Sure. But at least its by the law. Can't say the same about Batman.
Sushi said:
Send me to the dark ages pls. Let's hang the Joker's body next to the WELCOME TO GOTHAM sign too.
MoonGoddessKiana said:
Maybe we could call Wonder Woman to make the insanity plea accurately gauged if we're calling in Batman, I don't like other heroes in our city since it usually means trouble but if the Joker lis gone for good it might just be worth it. This isn't exactly a normal trial and that lasso may just make everything better.
ClickClack said:
Oh my God guys my mom said if Batman screws this up she's gonna set a bear trap on her rooftop😂😂😂
FeralAndProudOfIt said:
Don't forget Wayne is complicit in this shit. The bastard let the bat come on stand. If we're going Batman hunting I say we pay Wayne a visit too.
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The jury room was a long table, chairs and almost nothing else. Plain walls, plain carpet, stuffy air.
The people seated at the table were waiting for someone to say something, unsure of what exactly they were supposed to argue.
A woman at the back of the table, gentle looking and fair, was the first that raised her voice.
“Should we just vote? I don’t think there’s a point in arguing since the defense didn’t try to debate any of the evidence.”
“I’ll get the papers.”
“Oh forget the papers Mrs. Goodwin let’s just vote. It’ll be unanimous.”
She shook her head no, handing out pens and paper. “We’ll do this right.”
The jurors all scribbled their answers and handed the votes back. Mrs. Goodwin read the votes outloud.
Guilty, guilty, guilty…all guilty. However, there was only eleven votes.
“A vote is missing. Did someone forget to hand in their vote?”
At the middle of the table a girl kept her head down, fiddling with a paper scrap in her fingers. They turned eyes to her.
“Miss?”
The young girl didn’t lift her gaze. She kept staring at the paper in her hand.
She wished, more than anything, that she wasn’t there. It was her first jury duty, and it had been beyond simple. She was ready to vote guilty the minute she heard it was the Joker. The fact the defense didn’t do their job didn’t bother her. The fact some things didn’t line up right was trivial. Batman’s little speech about a better Gotham was bullshit beyond belief and it didn’t reach one bit of her.
It was the fact she had a brother in Blackgate who was getting sent to Arkham soon. It was the fact he might fall under that precedent and get killed. He didn’t deserve it though, her brother was cruel sometimes sure but- he was sick. So badly sick. Ever since Scarecrow used him for some experiments, it was like he was somewhere else completely. He screamed at walls and lashed out, he didn’t listen to reason.
The girl knew, he had hurt people. And those people couldn’t wait to see her brother rot. They only knew him as she knew the Joker, a maniac. They didn’t know her brother before it.
She stared at the scrap of paper in her hand and thought of the boy on stand, who lost everything because of the clown. And how hurt he looked because he lost his family.
Maybe he’d understand then that she couldn’t let family suffer.
She stared at the ‘not guilty’ in her hand before handing it over with shaking hand.
---------------------------------------------------------------
The judge asked for the verdict.
The verdict was spoken.
Laughter echoed through the courtroom.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Jason shoved through the courtroom without looking back. People were yelling around him, at him, some tried to grab his arms but he twisted out of reach. He stormed towards the court staircase, going up towards the rooftop exit.
Vicki Vale followed at his heels, along around fifteen other people, racing to see where he was going.
Jason burst on onto the roof.
“You.”
Jason limped to the stone still figure of Batman, coming face to face with Gotham’s protector.
“You coward. You absolute piece of shit. All you had to do was stay out of it. That’s all you had to do.”
Jason shoved the batsymbol away from him, yelling across the roof. “You finally had the chance to do the right thing! You could have set us all free by doing nothing.
But no.
No no no, you have to go around waving your goddamn virtue around like the pope does a Bible. Your fucking antiquated sense of morality really means more than protecting all of us?!”
“Jason I-“
“No! You said everything you had to say downstairs. You’ve done the right thing Batman. And you’ve taken the one thing I want more than anything along with it.”, his voice broke on the last words. “The one chance I had!”
He turned to leave and threw the caped vigilante one last message.
“You’ve made your bed. And I want you to know, that everything. Every single thing. From this point on is your fault. “
Batman stared as Jason made his way back down the stairs, Vicki looking beyond delighted at the drama she had caught on camera. She hurried to follow after the black car Jason and Talia had pilled themselves into, knowing one thing fully well.
This story was far from over.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Talia looked through her window into the public that surrounded the courthouse. At the disappointed faces, the crying woman who sobbed loudly on the front steps, the fury on so many betrayed citizens.
And she smiled.
Jason entered the car in a whirlwind, slammed the door shut and breathed rapidly. With a wave of her hand the driver started to pull them away from the courthouse.
Once Jason’s breathing had evened out she turned to him, pride clear in her voice.
“Your little speech was caught by that vile woman perfectly. Everyone heard all of it. You played the part just right, dramatic enough to be believable but not overdone. You’ve done well.”
Surprisingly, Jason didn’t lift his gaze at her words. He always lit up over her compliments, and the plan had gone well all things considered. She expected more enthusiasm and less- whatever this was.
The boy swallowed roughly. “I need a smoke.”
Talia raised her eyebrow at the non-response and tried to figure out what had actually upset him. The way he was shaking, it reminded her of his pit attacks but his eyes weren’t glowing. His head was still bowed down so she couldn’t see his full face. Only the way he kept rapidly opening and closing his eyes.
“You can smoke in the car. Just this once.”
Jason plucked the last cigar in his pack, slowly brought the lighter close to the tip and watched as the flame swayed along with the shaking fingers.
He smoked in silence for a moment, eyes not staring at anything. The cigar was half gone when he hid his face behind his palms. Talia took the cigar from limp fingers and put it out.
“You held hope didn’t you. You wanted him to give up.”
Jason shook his head, not showing his face. His voice was scratchy, like he was on the verge of either screams or tears.
“I knew he’d do it. I fucking knew.”
He took in a stuttering breath. Let out a hysterical little laugh.
“Hell, I planned for it. It shouldn’t even bother me. Why the hell does it hurt so much.”
---------------------------------------------------------------
The black car finally arrived at its destination. Union plaza.
The crowd was still gathered, albeit far less excited than before. Now they were grouped up, shouting, bickering, arguing amongt themselves.
The group closest to their car stopped talking when Jason climbed out. They watched as he went around, opened the trunk of the car and pulled out a crowbar. He walked confidently over to the square center, where the founder of Gotham stood immortalized in stone statue.
The crowd noticed him more and more, and most had followed the red figure as he climbed up to the foot of the statue. And they watched as he reeled the crowbar back and slammed it into the statues legs.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
The loud crashes silenced the crowd, everyone watching as he chipped away at the statue. A girl ran up to the foot.
“What are you doing man? Are you crazy?”
Jason stopped and turned to look at her, then at the rest of the crowd.
“Tell me something. Are you satisfied?”
The crowd didn’t answer. Jason pointed his crowbar towards the screen that showed a replay of the Batman court testimony.
“You saw all of it! You know full well what happened. So fucking tell me. IS ANYONE HERE SATISFIED?”
Jason reeled the crowbar back and slammed it into the statue again.
“Every day some crazy nutcase escapes from Arkham and we all pay the price. They kill our parents, our sisters, our brothers, our kids and all we do IS GIVE THEM A SLAP ON THE WRIST AND ASK THEM TO DO BETTER.”
The next slam took a chunk of stone down.
“Tomorrow comes and it’s all the same. Just like yesterday, and the day before and the month before and the year before and I’M SICK OF IT. “
Slam.
“I TRIED TO DO IT THEIR WAY. I TRIED TO SHOW THEM HOW TO FIX IT AND THEY WON’T LISTEN. OUR PROTECTORS REFUSE TO PROTECT US. OUR LAW REFUSES TO LOOK AFTER US!”
SLAM.
“I’M SICK AND TIRED OF WATCHING PEOPLE DIE FOR NOTHING.”
SLAM
“I’M TIRED OF LISTENING TO EXCUSES.”
SLAM.
“I’M DONE WAITING FOR TOMORROW TO MAGICALLY GET FUCKING BETTER.”
SLAM.
He finally turned back to the crowd, blood dripping from a cut the stone made on his cheek.
“JUSTICE IS SUPPOSED TO SATISFY THE VICTIMS. I’M NOT SATISFIED. I’M OVER THIS SICK CITY, AND IT’S USELESS HEROES AND POINTLESS RULES. I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF IT’S MISERY TO LAST FOREVER. SO LET ME ASK YOU AGAIN. “
Jason looked at the gathered crowd, saw the fire in their eyes and pain along with it. All of them just regular people, who had lived under fear for so long they had forgotten what it was like to hope for actual justice. And once it was finally in their grasp it had been taken away.
Now they remembered fully what anger felt like. Not just their own anger, but shared anger. Anger at something greater than any individual, but that affected all of them.
“ARE YOU SATISFIED? OR ARE WE FINALLY GOING TO TELL THEM EXACTLY WHAT WE WANT?”
---------------------------------------------------------------
Around the world people watched as Gotham’s courts decided to let the Joker live.
Then they watched as a young man spat in the face of one of the Earth’s greatest heroes.
They kept watching as an angry mob at Union plaza climbed over the statue of their own city’s founder, and the sea of people slammed into the back as hard as they could.
John T. Gotham smashed against the ground into a million tiny pieces to the roar of an unsatisfied crowd.