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based on characters appearing in DC Comics. I own the story and any original characters.
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Synopsis: An series of Examinations on Bruce Wayne's thoughts during "Return of the Joker"

It's Not Possible

It's not possible. I keep telling myself that over and over again. He can't be back. He died. I saw him die, saw the spear go through his chest, and saw Tim fire the trigger. The Joker is dead. Tim killed the Joker.

So who was I that I encountered last night? Who?

I can't help but think of Terry's suggestions of him possibly being a robot, clone, or having been frozen ice. Androids are possible, as shown with the government's Zeta synthoid program. But none of them have that kind of personality.

Now, I'm down here in the cave, looking into data files that I had sealed and encrypted almost forty years ago, searching for an answer.

Since he did call me Bruce, someone has to know. But if so, then who could be behind this? I've always been under the assumption that only Joker and Harley knew the secret; it was one of the few things with the Joker that I could make sense of. He would never allow anyone else the satisfaction of killing me.

But assuming he did, just for once assuming that Joker would violate his obsession with me, who could be behind this? I mentally go over the list of the major rogues, of all of the other Arkham inmates who worked with Joker or either dead they are still incarcerated.

It can't be Ra's; he's long gone and had not interest in killing me; the latter also applies to Andrea, Hugo Strange still thinks he was wrong - the list goes on and on. And as I do, I come to a realization: it can be none of them,

So now how do I calm my fears?

I finally decide on one possible way. Video technology may be the key. But, unfortunately, as I find, all known photos of the Joker, both prior and after his chemical bath, match up.

Then, from the video archives calling up one at random. I wait as the hard drive whirls and the image materializes.

I recognize it instantly of course. It's a clip of Joker during that incident on New Year's Eve '97.

I hear a noise behind me. I inwardly curse at myself for allowing Terry to sneak up upon me.

You have no idea, kid.

To be continued