6.

The house was quiet. Calm shadows loomed over the walls. Moonlight showed through the tall windows, bringing a cool light to the halls as he walked past. Glints of white shimmered on the pictures and their frames. He locked his eyes to the floor, watching the pattern of the carpet change and repeat, seeing the light disappear between each window. After coming up from the cave his mind was hazy with thoughts- most of which he ignored, especially the ones about the odd burning feeling he had in his chest. He brushed it off as just his hatred for Joker peeking through his cold exterior. While he almost always remained cold and brooding, there were times in his life of being the Dark Knight where he was driven past his breaking point. All of those times were when he was interacting with Joker. There was something about Joker that got under his skin, pulled at his mind. Like claws, everything Joker said broke through his skull and scratched at his brain. Everything felt personal. The clown liked to dance around questions, never giving a straight answer, always hiding things when he spoke. He never cooperated. That was what pushed at Bruce's disguise.

But what was it that made Joker special? Other foes did the same thing, and he was fine. With Joker, though, it was like he didn't think. Whatever it was the Bruce responded with it would be real, a true emotion that he didn't mean to show but couldn't help to. It was only with Joker, and he couldn't figure out why. It drove him mad. Why was Joker special?

His feet stopped in front of the door to the living room, thoughts dissipated as he looked down at the bottom of the door. A yellow light peered from underneath it. Clawing at the tips of his shoes, reaching out to gently touch the wooden floors. Voices muttered on the other side. He waited, listening in on them, but he couldn't tell what they were saying. However, the voices did sound familiar. Each one. It was the family.

Carefully, he took the doorknob and twisted slowly. The voices stopped. Pushing open the door, the yellow light engulfed him and the hallway he stood in. AS he thought, there sat every member of his family: Damian sitting in the chair near the fireplace with his hands on the edge of the arms of the chair, Tim on the sofa, Barbara and Dick standing next to the sofa sharing a disapproving look, and Jason leaning against a wall away from the others. Alfred stood to the side, looking at Bruce with a small frown. Bruce looked around.

Everyone was quiet for a bit, the air in the room getting heavier by the second.

Bruce cleared his throat, "What's going on?"

"I don't know, father," Damian spoke up, his tone harsh. "It seems like you've lost your mind."

"What?" Bruce asked, scrunching his face in confusion.

"Damian." Barbara shot a look at the boy, who grumbled and sat back in his chair. "Bruce, we know something is up. Tell us what's going on."

Dick nodded in agreement with Batgirl.

"Nothing is going on." Bruce defended. He was about to explain further, anger boiling up in his throat as he opened his mouth again to protest.

Alfred stopped him, "Master Bruce, they know. Just admit it."

They all fell silent; the family waiting for Bruce to give them the information they wanted, and Bruce not wanting to say anything. He didn't know what to say. They'd find out eventually, he knew that, but he didn't want to be the one to tell them.

Finally, he sighed, "Around a week ago the commissioner signaled me. He told me that after four years they found Joker. He was beaten and unconscious but still alive."

Bruce paused for a second to take a breath, and to let the others take in what he had just said. They all looked shocked. All of them except Jason, that is, who looked disappointed at the fact that Joker was alive. Bruce went on, "He said that they had Joker there at the station in one of the high security cells, but couldn't keep him there. He explained that Arkham was under construction, so they couldn't send him back there either. So he asked me what to do."

"And?" Dick prodded, encouraging Bruce to continue.

"I told him I'd take Joker."

That's when Damian stood up, "So you have lost your mind!"

"You brought that freak here!?" Barbara shouted, stepping forward. "What were you thinking!?"

As they all began shouting, fighting and tossing accusations back and forth, Alfred stepped in. He put his hands up to separate the two parties, "Everyone, please! Calm down!"

The family quieted down. Damian was about to continue arguing, but Dick put a hand on his shoulder. Damian glared at him but didn't say anything. The boy sat back down and crossed his arms.

"Now," Alfred sighed, "Master Bruce, please go on."

"Okay," Bruce replied. "So, I told him I'd take Joker. I told him I'd have a cell built, that I'd have everything prepared within a week. And in a week, when everything was ready, I went to get Joker. I brought him here, to the cave. "

"So he is here?" Barbara questioned. "He's in our home?"

"He's in a special high security cell that me and Alfred built specifically for him." Bruce clarified.

"He's still here- he's still in our home!" Barbara stated frantically, "He can still find out who we are and kill all of us! Do you know how dangerous it was to bring him here? What were you thinking!?"

"I don't know, okay!" Bruce shot back, "I don't know what I was thinking- I wasn't thinking!"

Barbara jumped back. She had never heard Bruce yell like that. She stayed quiet, not saying anything more. Her eyes cast to the floor.

Bruce sighed, "Listen, I don't know why I said I'd take care of him, but it's in the past now. He's here now."

The rest of them were quiet too, not wanting to speak up. Damian only glared at his father, Jason didn't join the conversation at any point, Tim sitting awkwardly, Barbara staring sadly at the floor, and Dick waiting for someone else to step in.

No one spoke up. Except for Alfred, who explained what his thoughts on the matter were. Stating that while he didn't like the idea, he trusted Bruce, and hoped that eventually the rest of the family would agree with him on that. After that, the silence hung in the air; clung to the walls and the faces of the family. It suffocated them. Only the sound of the crackling fire could be heard.

Slowly, one by one the family left the room, each going their separate ways. Jason and Damian both leaving completely, Barbara quickly dashing up to her room, Tim going to the library, and Dick standing still as the last one. He gave Bruce a concerned look before he walked away.

Then it was just Bruce and Alfred. The latter watching his boss with a sad frown, and the first locking his eyes to the window. His eyes falling to the moon.

Alfred watched silently, his frown growing as he saw Bruce stare blankly out into the night. That was never a good sign.

*****

After that night they all avoided each other. Most of them didn't stay in the house very often, going off on their own. Some of them didn't come back after that night at all. It was just Bruce and Alfred again. Virtually alone, the house seemed so quiet- so lonely. The house creaked, echoed through the open space, the old wood warping and wading. Shifting in the night.

Bruce would often go out in disguise, pretending to be a normal citizen instead of a billionaire, just to distract himself. In the day he'd go out and walk through alleyways in the city, just watching the world move around him. Nearly every day he went out now. At night, he would go out on patrols as Batman. He'd go out for hours- sometimes he wouldn't even come back while Alfred was still up. Whenever he did come back, the first thing he'd do was check on Joker, who lay peacefully in the room they had set up for him. He'd check his vitals, meds, and breathing before just watching him quietly.

During one of these times, while Bruce was standing outside of Joker's cell just staring at the clown, Dick came down to the cave. He stood next to Bruce. Neither really said anything for a while. They just stood there, both staring at the pale figure in the bed.

Eyes still locked to the clown, Dick spoke, "Are you sure about this, Bruce?"

"Yes," Bruce replied. He didn't look away from the clown either. "I know we can help him."

"But what if we can't?"

"I know we can. We just need to find the right way." Bruce explained, "We're the only ones who could maybe give him a second chance."

There was something in Bruce's voice that Dick noticed, he couldn't quite tell what exactly that something was, but he knew he had never heard it in the bat's voice before. He smiled, "Okay."

Bruce was about to try to convince him again when he stopped. The bat turned to look at Dick, "Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Dick said, "I trust you. If you think you can fix him or whatever, I'm not gonna stop you."

Bruce didn't say anything more, just stood in silence.

Then Dick walked away. Right before he reached the stairs he paused, turned back, and said, "Just know that if you can't fix him and something happens, the blood is on your hands."