[ WP ] - Joker seeks vengeance for the death of Batman

*Good morning, everyone. This one comes in two parts, as it's a tad long. Hope you enjoy it. * 
 
 The carpet was Persian, rotated from an anteroom so as to avoid being worn down through constant traffic. The thick fibers dampened the solitary footfalls as the grandfather clock slid noiselessly to the side, uncovering the cavernous entrance. It seemed so very small now, an empty promise of bigger things to come, like that of an overly excited child predicting his path in life. He touched the clock absentmindedly as he passed, recalling the stern certainty with which the young master had informed him that he would be a doctor one day, just like his father; no, better than his father! 
 
 He would save people. 
 
 Innumerable, the times Alfred Pennyworth had descended these steps. Tray in hand, till the dumbwaiter had been perfected. Gauze and needle, till the med bay had been sterilized and sealed. Mechanical arms and steel tables sat silent in the dark below, along with the Armory, the Trophy Room, and so many, many other cavernous chambers. The Cave had a way of expanding, as the fight demanded more and more physical resources. 
 
 But it was only for the second time that he walked down these steps that he knew, deep in his soul, that it would never be the same. Master Bruce had been lost before; madness, depression, sickness, and even by the hands of what Mister Kent had called “ New Gods ”, but never like this. Coffins could never have held him. Not till now. 
 
 “ My God, ” Alfred whispered. “ Not again. I ca n't bear it for the second time. ” 
 
 The cane was smooth in his right hand, tapping solidly on the stonework. He had resisted such an implement, but there was no more point in appearances. The children had hovered, bobbed and darted around the building for what had seemed like an eternity before he had shooed them all away, Master Grayson delivering the final insult. No matter how much they had lost, Alfred would be damned before someone else poured him a cup of tea. Not in this house. This tomb of a house. 
 
 The steps ended now. The darkness, so familiar at one point, gnawed at the corners of his vision for an instant before the motion sensor activated, his identity cleared long minutes ago. The Cave maws before you, an impressive sight, imposing the breadth and Majesty of a dead kingdom built on the backs of a superstitious and cowardly lot. The clinking thud of lights banishing the shadows continued until nothing could be heard save the echoes of the cane, tapping on the stone. Then steel, then carpet. 
 
 He had insisted, to much protest, on adding a touch of colour to the main terminal room, less it look entirely too much like something out of a science fiction pulp. He smiled, despite himself. 
 
 “ I do n't think they even make those, ” he sighed as he settled into the chair. “ Not any more. ” 
 
 Pennyworth sat till the tears began and were dried on his vest, and then he was still. Motion sensors dutifully saw no one, and ensconced him with the darkness he needed. 
 
 A silver age passed, followed quickly by a golden one. Time had no meaning, not now. The cave would run atomic far longer than any of them, save perhaps the man from Metropolis. 
 
 But not even he could have saved Master Bruce. 
 
 “ Damn him. ” The cane shattered the silence, clattering off of the screen. “ And damn me most of all. ” 
 
 There was a scraping of a shoe. The air changed, and it was not until Alfred bent for his fallen cane that the smell 
 announced a visitor. 
 
 Funny, that. 
 
 “ Come now, Mr. Pennyworth. ” The voice's pitch varied as the syllables danced, edges teeming with malice. 
 “ This deep underground, we're all damned! That or I should ask for a refund. ” The lights exploded as the jester's hands jazzed. Or was that japed? It does n't matter, what matters is that “ Say, that's a good idea! HehHAH! Where is the proprietor of this here rather drab establishment? ” His eyes dropped to the cane and “ Nice Rug. Mind if I cut it? ” The smile careened as the laughter never, ever, ever stopped! 
 
 Alfred whirled, response calm and automatic: “ Computer, Code Green. Martha Cameo Jester. ” 
 
 Their most recent Joker anti-toxin began automatically venting the chamber as the cave went into a full systems lock-down. The computer blared the alarm, as the duo were illuminated in deep red emergency lights. 
 
 “ Ooooo. Nifty reaction time there, my good man! ” The Joker closed the gap, snatching the cane and shattering it across the back of the hardened terminal chair that ca n't be good for his posture, nicer than Bab's wheely deal though! “ Better keep this one stiff upper lip! HAH! ” Backhand, forehand, bloody nose? “ What the hell. ” The hardwood whipped, slashed, painted the town red just like old times. Just like them! 
 
 Alfred sunk into the chair. Two minutes from Metropolis. Keep him talking. They've been here before. So many times before. 
 
 “ You've come to end it all, then? ” He looked deep into the face of the enemy. There was nothing there, there never had been. He had seen the glazed look of madness during the war, the destruction of a mind and a soul during the long nights where Gotham's safety was barely out of reach, but when he looked in those red eyes, he knew there was nothing to find. “ Do it. There's nothing for either of us now. ” 
 
 The Joker spun, feigning surprise. “ Come now! It's been forever since we last had a chat, Jeeves old whip! Haha! Heh, do you like the new threads? ” He spun, violently violetly purple accented by deepest black. “ I had'em made special! It's been a Dark Knight out there, after all! ” HAHAHAhehaheheh “ But enough about me, although you did fail to compliment me on my new face lift ” reflecting off of screens just like old times “ Old times, old times. Not that there's any other kind for you, Pennyworth! Now, back to the business at hand! ” 
 
 He stopped. His body seizing and remaining perfectly still, gripping the sides of the chair, inches from Alfred's face. 
 “ Where is he? ” The question struck the air softly, almost timidly. His lips never moved, it was a breath through set teeth. Always grinning. 
 
 Alfred was stunned into silence. Not by the behavior, or the act, or the violence. He had been here before. But, when he had asked the question, there was something- 
 
 “ WHERE?! ” The mask returned, demanding. The Joker calmly raising a rand to his lapel and fingering the acid trigger this one has them melting in the isles just like old times “ But then again, I know he is n't here. My apologies, the birdies or the faker are probably just upstairs! Maybe I'll just take care of you and ask them, they've abandoned you anyway! ” He stopped, considering the prepared material. “ You know, I had a great one about buttling, but damned if I ca n't remember what it was. ” 
 
 Alfred shrugged. “ Something about the last laugh? ” His split lip broke a cool smirk. One minute. 
 
 The Joker's smile grew wide, painful, as he dropped his hands, standing erect. He was taller than Alfred remembered. 
 
 “ You know ”, he chuckled lightly. “ It actually was n't! I've used that line more times than I can count, Alfey. Funny you should mention it! Hah, I even brought all the hits! ” 
 
 The purple suit sagged, his hands reaching into his pockets, items clattering to the floor; chattering teeth, joy buzzers, toxic whoopie cushions, decks of cards. A child's skull, which caused a titter. “ I knew her, Horatio! Although more of a Heratio, in this case! ” He raised his eyebrow, “ Guess you're not one to be head of the class. HAHAHA! ” 
 
 This time, the laughter continued. The Joker sunk to his knees, crowding himself with the detritus of his career, voice chilled and echoing with empty, broken laughter. A hacking, rasping laugh. Louder. Higher. It hurt to bear, hurt to hear just like old times there never can be old times oh god just keep laughing laugh ha. 
 
 Ha. 
 
 * ( Cont. ) * 

