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The first time it happens Jeremiah is confused.
The headline on the Gotham Times reads: Joker Spotted Robbing Gotham National Bank!; despite the fact that Jeremiah had decidedly not robbed Gotham National Bank any time within the last few months. Naturally, he has to investigate.
He briefly wonders if he's been hit in the head recently. The Batman had knocked him around in their encounter a few weeks ago, but the article says that the attack happened yesterday around 3 in the afternoon. As far as Jeremiah can remember he hadn't gone out yesterday, content to stay in with a cup of tea and his subsequent plans for Gotham.
Next, he considers the idea that he's finally, well and truly, gone insane. He rules this idea out too, though not completely because being sprayed with Jerome's gas had surely changed his brain (or released the creature that had been lurking underneath the surface).
Jeremiah assumes that his brain is not creating false memories, but again, not that many people had been affected by Jerome's gas, so Jeremiah really doesn't have anyone to compare symptoms with (and, no, he's not considering finding the blimp that Oswald had crashed, that was years ago, all the gas is probably long gone by now).
Jeremiah would keep thinking about it but Ecco bursts through the door at that moment.
"J! The cops'll be here any minute," She warns, and sure enough Jeremiah can sirens distantly increase in volume. Jeremiah is glad that he hadn't shared this particular hideout with many of his henchmen, but it makes him suspicious.
"Someone betrayed us." Jeremiah measures his words carefully. Ecco narrows her eyes accordingly.
"Someone ratted us out?" She asks, incredulous. "But I put them all through your tests!"
"We'll just have to increase our security measures," Jeremiah says, already planning how he'll weed the mole out. He can't act on it yet, and instead packs up his blueprints and work, as he and Ecco slip out of the back entrance. The headline is, for the moment, forgotten.
-
The second time that it happens, Jeremiah is suspicious.
This time the headline reads: The Joker Strikes Terror in Gotham Once Again! Jeremiah rolls his eyes at the headline but keeps reading because it's important for him to keep tabs on his public image. He's not vain, he just needs to be sure he's properly terrifying Gotham.
This article comes equipped with an image, that is undeniably him. Deep green dyed hair, a well-tailored purple suit, and a gun in his hand. Only, he's standing in front of what looks to be a flaming pharmacy, Jeremiah squints down at the picture, just barely able to make out the company's sign that had fallen behind him. He tilts his head to the side because that was a building he had been planning to hit.
It's just that he hasn't ordered the hit yet, nor can he remember being at the pharmacy. He's purposefully been avoiding it so he doesn't draw any suspicion.
Jeremiah frowns, because, yes, that's him in the picture. But he was at home (read: the abandoned warehouse he and Ecco had taken up shop in) during the attack. Just to be sure, Jeremiah pulls the tape from the surveillance camera he had set to monitor his workspace. After the unfortunate incident with the traitor last time, Jeremiah wasn't too keen on having to torture all of his henchmen again just to get them to rat out one guy.
He uploads the footage to his computer and scrubs through it until he reaches around 6 pm, the time the article had quoted for the start of the chaos at the pharmacy. The footage at that time conveniently cuts out. He groans and would bang his head against the desk if that didn't mean risking actual brain damage.
He's going to have to find one of the people who was at the pharmacy and question them.
Jeremiah is at the manor within the hour; Bruce's curtains are still drawn and he's still fast asleep. Jeremiah wonders if his alleged tromp through the city had caused Bruce's late night.
Jeremiah enters Bruce's room, entirely ungraceful, rattling the lock on his window until it gives (he thanks Selina for that), and flops himself across the bed.
"What the hell? Jeremiah?" Bruce asks, concern immediately evident in his tone as he realises exactly who's in his room. He sits up quickly but doesn't retreat from the bed or reach for the batarang that Jeremiah knows he keeps under his mattress.
Jeremiah takes this as a good sign to start talking.
"Bruce, darling, babe, my best friend, love of my life-"
"Spit it out, Jeremiah."
Jeremiah levels him with an entirely serious look as he says, "I think I'm going mad."
"You're- What?" Bruce says, baffled.
"See, I found the paper this morning, and apparently I had a little adventure last night." Jeremiah starts, glancing at the door, slightly nervous that the butler might show up.
"You mean when you set fire to the Lexcorp building that had just opened its doors in Gotham?" Bruce rolls his eyes.
"Yeah. That. Did I seem any different to you last night?" Jeremiah looks over at Bruce, propping his chin in his hands.
"What do you mean?" Bruce asks, and Jeremiah can tell that Bruce is regretting not having all of his locks changed and getting his security level upgraded by at least a hundred times. But that would mean seeing Selina less.
"When you were stopping me, being the big bad bat, did I seem off to you?"
"You blew up a building, made some taunting jokes at me, and ran off. What do you think?" Bruce crosses his arms.
"That does sound like me," Jeremiah sighs and rolls over onto his back, he keeps an eye on Bruce's movements, lest he get any ideas.
"Of course it does. It was you," Bruce says, looking at him like he's crazy. Jeremiah has the childish urge to stick his tongue out at Bruce, likely a byproduct of Jerome's 'insanity gas'.
"I don't remember being there," Jeremiah states when Bruce doesn't say anything else.
"Why?" Bruce asks somewhat lamely, Jeremiah gives him another look.
"If I knew that I wouldn't be here, I would be out maiming whoever was messing with my image," Jeremiah says, then, as an afterthought, "or my mind."
"Your mind was already messed with," Bruce points out, unhelpfully.
Jeremiah rolls his eyes at that, "Not the point. Now, are you absolutely positive that nothing seemed off about me last night?"
"I wasn't paying that much attention to your habits, Jeremiah," Bruce scoffs. "I had to make sure the building was empty, y'know, since your explosion set it on fire."
"Technically it might not even have been my explosion."
"Seriously?" Bruce asks, Jeremiah stays quiet. "Is there something else you want?"
"Bruce, if I was here for something else, I'm pretty sure you would know." Jeremiah raises his eyebrows at him, Bruce scrunches his nose.
"Okay, fine. So what do you want from me? You seemed fine from what I saw last night, didn't stick around that long after I showed up, anyways."
"All my footage from when the attack supposedly happened was corrupted this morning, or someone deleted it. So I can't prove that I was at home." Jeremiah shrugs. "I don't think I was there, but that was my face in the paper. You don't think that Strange is still running around, do you?"
Bruce frowns at that, "He better not be. He and I made an arrangement, he's not to return to Gotham or start his experimentation again. If he's made a clone of you, there'll be hell to pay."
"And last I checked the only person who shares my face is six feet under," Jeremiah, pauses, considers, "actually, he was only in a six-foot hole, but close enough. Someone probably re-buried him."
"Maybe you have amnesia," Bruce suggests, half hoping that Jeremiah will accept this as the answer and leave him alone to sleep.
He's not in any danger, Jeremiah does not, will never, want him dead, but Bruce has been up for the past thirty hours and will be an absolute mess in the morning if he doesn't get to sleep soon.
"I thought that too. The first time it happened."
"This isn't the first time?" Bruce asks, already regretting even bothering to wake up. Maybe if he had just pretended to stay asleep Jeremiah would have left him alone. An idea which, Bruce admits, is completely implausible. He wouldn't have been left alone, not if Jeremiah had gone to the trouble of breaking into his house.
"You remember like a week ago when I robbed Gotham National ?"
"Yeah," Bruce reluctantly nods.
"I don't recall that either," Jeremiah shrugs.
"Maybe you should have a psychiatric evaluation done," Bruce deadpans. "I could help you get settled into Arkham."
Jeremiah giggles a little at that, "Oh, Bruce, you're so funny when you want to be."
"I don't want to be funny, I want to go back to sleep," Bruce grumbles, loud enough that Jeremiah still hears it.
"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, Bruce, I'll let you get your beauty sleep. Not that you need it," Jeremiah rolls off the bed and lands on his feet. Bruce is vaguely suspicious that Jeremiah is leaving so easily, but to be fair, Bruce had been unnaturally cooperative due to his lack of sleep. "But next time you see me you'd better ask me for a code word. Who knows what the imposter thinks about you, they might not care about you as much as I do."
"A code word?" Bruce asks, a little incredulous, but agrees nonetheless. "Yeah, whatever, what do you want it to be?"
"Oh, I don't know, how about your name."
"You want to use my name as a codeword?" Bruce gives him a deadpan look; Jeremiah just stares at him. "Fine, now will you leave?" Bruce snaps at Jeremiah when he hovers next to the bed for another minute.
"Yes, just promise me you won't engage with whatever lunatic decided to steal my face. If it's not me."
"I won't," Bruce confirms, even though he probably will. He's Batman he can't just ignore someone who's pretending to be the Joker. He watches as Jeremiah slips out of the bedroom's window, closing it softly behind him.
-
The third time it happens, Jeremiah is absolutely livid. Because, yes, now he knows that whoever the hell had been impersonating him had been doing it on purpose. And it was most definitely not him.
And now, of course, they had Bruce Wayne hostage on live TV.
"Ecco!" He calls out for her, she's at his side almost immediately.
"What's up, boss?" She asks with a smile.
"Do you know where this is happening?" Jeremiah grits through his teeth, gesturing at the TV displaying the fraud proudly parading Bruce across the screen. and leading him to a chair which he was promptly tied to.
Ecco's eyes widen as she takes in the scene that flashes across the TV, "Is this a recording or something?"
"No. Some charlatan is out there pretending they're me."
"I can get ya there," Ecco assures, eyeing over the recording. "Looks like one of the warehouses from down by the docks."
-
"The star of the show has arrived!" Jeremiah says, spreading his arms and grinning widely. Bruce can't tell who he's looking at over his shoulder. He can't decide whether he hopes that the person is Jim or not. He also can't decide whether he's glad that Jeremiah had cut the cameras or not.
"Give me my face back!" The 'star of the show' shouts immediately at Jeremiah. And, Bruce knows that voice. That's… Jeremiah.
The other Jeremiah, the new one, steps into Bruce's view.
"Technically it was mine first," The first Jeremiah, who had taken Bruce hostage, points out.
"I've had it longer at this point," Jeremiah comments back, stalking towards the two of them.
And then, because there is a law in Gotham that states that no one in the city can have nice things, Bruce realises what's going on.
"Guys," He tries, as the two of them continue arguing. Neither of them pay him any mind.
"And who's fault it that?" Bruce is pretty sure that's Jerome.
"Yours!" Jeremiah shouts back at his brother.
Before Jerome can lunge at him Gordon knocks down the door to the warehouse they're in.
"GCPD! Nobody move!" Jim shouts as he barges into the room, not fast enough for Jerome not to pull a knife up to Bruce's throat.
"Ah, ah, ah. How's about you stay right where you are and Bruce here gets to keep his throat intact." He then leans down to whisper in Bruce's ear, "Just like old times, huh? Remind me, how long ago was my carnival."
"Six years," Bruce responds quietly, somewhat hesitantly.
"You left me dead for four years!?" He hisses loud enough that Jeremiah hears it too. Turning his attention back to Gordon before either of them can respond to him.
"I know you're not going to kill him, Jeremiah," Gordon sighs, he's not surprised that it's gotten to a point where he has to bargain with criminal maniacs, but he is disappointed. Jerome notes that Gordon hasn't noticed his brother standing behind him. What an unobservant guy. "What do you want in exchange for him?"
"I don't know, 'Miah, what do we want?" Jerome tilts his head towards where the real Jeremiah is standing awkwardly behind the two of them. Having shuffled away from the doorway when the cops busted in.
"Aw, what the hell," Bullock exclaims as he notices the second twin standing behind them.
"See, we were actually triplets, I'm… Jeremy, long lost from our circus days," Jerome says taking on a wistful tone.
Bruce holds in a laugh at the look on both Gordon and Bullock's faces. If he's going to get kidnapped, he's damn well going to enjoy it. Jerome seems to notice this as his grin grows even wider.
"You know, half the crimes you never caught Jeremiah for were me," Jerome muses.
"Are you serious? When this is over you owe me a bottle," Bullock points an accusing finger at Bruce.
"Why me? I didn't do anything?" Bruce asks, half offended as he does.
"I don't trust either of them not to poison me," Harvey gestures at the twins, "and you're the one who keeps getting kidnapped by every damn Valeska twi-triplet you run into!"
"How is that my fault!?"
"Harvey! Bruce! Calm down," Gordon shouts, catching everyone's attention. Ever the good detective. "We don't know what… Jeremy wants. Harvey, he might be dangerous and not have a soft spot for Bruce like Jeremiah does."
"Oh yeah, I'm ready to murder this guy any minute," Jerome says from behind a snicker.
"You're really not helping your case," Bruce murmurs to Jerome.
"If they catch me I'm headed to Arkham anyways. You need to let loose, and have some fun every once in a while," Jerome whispers back.
"You're holding a knife to my throat," Bruce deadpans.
"Some people are into that," Jerome shrugs with a smirk. Bruce gives him a look over his shoulder.
"Bruce, you need to be careful what you say to him," Jim cuts in when he notices the two of them conversing. "We don't know what he wants, he could be dangerous."
"Yeah, Bruce, I could be dangerous," Jerome repeats, grinning all the while.
"He's not," Jeremiah finally speaks up, earning everyone's attention, he shrugs. "At least not to Bruce."
"And why should we trust you, Jeremiah?" Gordon sounds so tired that Jerome almost considers just dropping this whole thing and buyin' the guy a coffee.
"Because you know I wouldn't let anyone else hurt Bruce. You'd believe me if you saw his room," Jeremiah scoffs, and Bruce can feel Jerome tense slightly at his words. "He's practically got a shrine to the guy, newspaper clippings, magazines, you name it."
"You don't really, do you?" Bruce asks, more curious than anything. "Since when do you even have a room?"
"No, of course I don't. 'Miah's just projecting," Jerome defends.
"I don't know," Bruce starts, "I've seen Jeremiah's room and he doesn't have many pictures of me up."
"When were you in his room?" Jerome asks at the same time that Bullock asks, "Many?"
"Valeska!" Jim shouts gaining both of the twin's attention. "Will everyone just shut up? Jeremy, Jeremiah, tell me what the hell you want so you'll let Bruce go."
"I don't know, what do we want, Jeremiah?" Jerome tilts his head towards his brother.
"You two are working together?" Jim asks skeptically. Jerome confirms at the same time that Jeremiah denies the allegation.
"What I want is for him to stop impersonating me," Jeremiah folds his arms across his chest glaring at his brother.
"Oh come on, it was only for a bit of fun. It's not like I committed any super serious crimes as you. Nothing you wouldn't have done."
"You're holding a knife to Bruce's throat," Jeremiah points out. "I wouldn't do that."
"Yeah but I'm not pretending to be you anymore so it doesn't matter," Jerome defends.
"Take off your face then," Jeremiah challenges. Jim and Harvey exchange a look because that doesn't sound good in the least.
Jerome shrugs, before pausing and considering, "If I do that I'd have to free up my hands and then Jimbo and Harv can start shooting at us."
"We won't shoot," Jim says placatingly because on the one hand, he doesn't really want to know what Jeremiah meant but on the other hand he's really not in the mood to piss Jeremiah off.
"Put your guns on the floor," Jerome challenges, not moving until the two of them do so uneasily.
Even with their guns on the floor, Jerome still shifts to be slightly behind Bruce, so that even if they do shoot they won't hit him. He takes the knife away from Bruce's throat to seemingly cut at his face. Jim frowns and Harvey tilts his head slightly but doesn't look all that upset that the guy is holding his knife up to his own face.
Jerome slides the knife under the prosthetics he'd used to reconstruct his face and pulls at it. He cuts away the glue revealing the scars underneath. Peeling away the silicone.
"See? No more impersonation," He says to Jeremiah who still looks vaguely pissed at him.
"Jerome?" Jim asks in disbelief.
"You're alive!?" Harvey asks, because what the hell, he thought they were done dealing with this clown.
"Healthy as a horse," Jerome confirms with a grin.
"How did you even come back?" Jeremiah questions him because Jerome's last plan had seemed pretty final.
"You know the whole shebang, woke up in some lab, some prick with ugly glasses hovering over me, telling me I was going to serve some greater purpose, blah blah blah." Jerome wrinkles his nose at the recollection. "I wasn't really listening, he said something about the government and a 'batman' and exterminating Gotham; anyways he hadn't restrained me properly I guess, so I stabbed him, you know how it goes."
Jim groans, "Please tell me you don't mean that the government is working with Hugo Strange to take down Gotham again."
And if you do mean that, please tell me you put the bastard out of his misery. Jim doesn't say.
"I don't know who that is. Maybe."
"I thought we were over that," Harvey complains.
"They've left Gotham to deal with itself for the most part since the bridges went down and then the reunification. I don't know why they're interested again," Jim comments.
"They sounded pretty annoyed at whatever the hell a 'batman' is. Hey, is that the guy with the cape who tried to stop me at that Lexcorp pharmacy?" Jerome asks no one in particular but he does see Bruce tense slightly in front of him, he brushes it off, maybe Bruce was on the 'batman''s hit list.
"Yes, that was Batman," Jeremiah confirms. "Why would they want to take him down? He's keeping this city under control."
"The rest of America doesn't very well like vigilantes," Harvey reasons.
"And the government probably feels like they're being undermined," Jim adds.
Bruce sighs slightly to himself. Wondering how the hell he's gotten into this situation.
"Okay, guys, this is all well and good but I've thought about what I want, now that 'Miah has what he wants," Jerome cuts in.
"What do you want, Jerome?" Jim asks him warily.
"I'll let Brucie here go, if you bring an art piece from the Gotham Museum of Art, pick any one ya like," Jim nearly sighs in relief, he can do that, but then Jerome has to go and interrupt him, "and I want you to bring the Batman to me." Jerome watches both Jeremiah and Bruce tense, "But until then."
Jerome cuts Bruce's restraints pulling him up and dragging him towards the exit, knife back against his throat.
"Where are you going?" Jim sighs.
"I've got a lot of catching up to do. Come on, Jeremiah."
"We can't just let them leave!" Harvey says.
Jim ignores him.
"Batman will save Bruce when he gets to them," Jim says confidently, and god Bruce is so close to bursting into uncontrollable giggles. He wonders if this is what Jerome and Jeremiah feel like constantly. He's blaming it on delirium.
Jeremiah reluctantly follows behind his brother, shrugging at the look that Jim gives him, "Call me when Batman gets to you?"
"I don't have your number. Jeremiah!" Jim shouts after Jeremiah; Jeremiah either doesn't hear him or ignores him. Jim doesn't know which one is worse.
"What the hell?" Harvey asks, and honestly, Jim can't help but agree.
He thought that the Batman would help, he'd lit the so-called Batsignal at least half an hour ago. Batman's response time, especially in the late evening and night was never that bad. He worries for a brief minute that Batman is injured and can't help, but he shakes the thought off just as quickly. Batman can take care of himself, and so can Bruce.
Jim stares forlornly after where Jerome had dragged Bruce off, but it's not like he can really do anything. Going after them would risk setting both Valeska's off and the last thing he wants is to be the cause of any harm that might come to Bruce.
"Sooooo," Jerome starts, removing the knife at Bruce's throat but keeping his arm slung across the billionaire's shoulder as the three of them step out into Gotham's night air, "Four years, huh?"
"I would have revived you if I could've," Jeremiah mumbles somewhat.
Jerome gives him a look, "Really?" he drags out the word in disbelief.
"I thought Hugo was dead to be fair, or at the very least in prison," Jeremiah defends, crossing his arms.
Jerome tilts his head slightly, "I tried to kill you, on live TV; why the hell would you want me alive?"
"Yeah, but you gave me the push to be what I was truly meant to be," Jeremiah shrugs somewhat.
Jerome shakes his head but doesn't comment.
"Where are we going?" Bruce asks when it's clear that neither of the twins is going to say anything. He does not mumble that all Jerome did was make Jeremiah just as crazy as him. He keeps that thought to himself.
"I don't know," Jerome starts. "Bruce, tell me, where do you think that the, uh, Batman will be the most likely to find us?"
Bruce frowns at that, "Wayne Manor probably."
Jeremiah snorts but covers it with a cough. Nevertheless, Jerome dutifully turns them down an alleyway in the general direction of the manor.
"You ever run into the guy, 'Miah?"
"Oh yeah, all the time. He and I are on great terms."
"Really?" Jerome asks, tightening his grasp on Bruce's shoulder ever so slightly. "Don't tell me your cheating on poor Bruce with Batman."
"We're not-"
"I would never, what kind of harlot do you take me for?" Jeremiah interrupts, denial hot on his tongue, before Bruce can get a word in.
"Then who is the Batman to you?” Jerome narrows his eyes. “I mean if he's not just some quick screw."
Jeremiah and Bruce share a look.
"The things you miss when you're dead for four years,” Jerome drawls.
"I am not 'screwing' Batman,” Jeremiah frowns, “and I detest your use of such crude language.”
"You and Bruce seem to be on close terms with him, though. Wait, wait," Jerome gasps dramatically, then, scandalised, he releases Bruce's shoulder and practically shouts, "Bruce! Don't tell me you're cheating on my dear twin brother with the Batman!"
"What?" Bruce manages to get out, but it sounds strangled. Jeremiah, predictably is no help, as a fit of giggles overtakes his body.
"Am I missing something?" Jerome glances between his brother, who's grabbed onto the ladder of a fire escape so he doesn't fall off, and Bruce, who looks like he's about to pass out.
"Batman," Bruce says deliberately, though it looks like it pains him to do so, "isn't in relations with anyone."
"How would you know?" Jerome asks, and really, Jeremiah thinks, how is he this dense?
Jeremiah's giggles mostly subside and he shares a look with Bruce.
"Not here," Bruce says. "We're almost at the manor."
"Really?" Jeremiah asks. "Him ?"
Bruce rolls his eyes, "I told you didn't I?"
"Technically I figured it out before you told me," Jeremiah points out unhelpfully, ignoring Jerome's questions about what they're talking about.
"And I'm sure given enough time Jerome would figure it out himself, too," Bruce says dismissively. "Everyone else I know already figured it out."
"Except for the GCPD," Jeremiah says, as the three of them step onto the Wayne property.
"Okay, yeah, but that's different."
"How is that different? Aren't they supposed to be detectives? Shouldn't golden boy Jim Gordon have figured it out by now? I mean I get why Harvey hasn't but Jim is supposed to be the smart one."
"Don't insult them, Jeremiah. I've been very careful to keep my identity secret around them."
"But you haven't around the villains you throw to Arkham?"
"When did Bruce become a cop?" Jerome asks.
Bruce pulls the doors to the manor open, and sighs, "I didn't."
"But then-"
"Alfred I'm home!" Bruce shouts into the manor. Jeremiah and Jerome share a look.
"Bruce, what are you doing?" Jeremiah hisses. "Alfred was super pissed at me last I checked."
"If your butler finds us, we're dead meat," Jerome tacks on.
"I'm sure you'll be fine, and we talked about that already, Jeremiah," Bruce assures, though it does nothing to relax either of the twins.
"Ah, Bruce, you're back," Alfred says, from down the hallway, likely not having taken notice of the unexpected guests. "Commissioner Gordon said you might be out for a while."
"I got out early," Bruce says, smiling as Alfred comes into view.
"Oh. Jeremiah," Alfred's words lose the warmth they had contained for the boy he raised. "Will you be staying for dinner?"
"I don't know, may I, Bruce?" Jeremiah asks, and if Jerome didn't know better he'd think it sounded polite.
"Is this like a regular thing?" Jerome asks, trying to puzzle out what the hell is going on.
"Jerome," Alfred says mildly. "I was under the impression you had died. Again. You may stay for dinner as well if Bruce allows it and you do not try anything with him."
Jerome salutes with his hand at Alfred, "Scout's honour. What d'ya say, Bruce?"
"They'll both be joining me for dinner, Alfred. Thank you."
Jerome swears he can see Alfred hold back an eye roll but nevertheless he leaves the room to start the dinner.
Bruce gestures for the twins to follow him to his father's study.
"Bruce, I know you're rich, but this ain't a dining room," Jerome very helpfully points out.
Bruce doesn't comment on that, instead, he pulls some kind of remote out from a seemingly random book on the shelf. He clicks a button on the remote and a loud dragging sound draws Jerome's attention to the fireplace.
Jerome peers at the doorway the fireplace has opened into, raises an eyebrow, "You want me to go down into your secret dungeon?"
Bruce rolls his eyes, "It's not a dungeon, it's a cave."
"That's better because?"
"Just come on," Bruce says, heading into the alleged cave.
"Stop being a coward," Jeremiah says as he passes his brother. Jerome follows them because he refuses to be called a coward by the man who spent a good decade hiding in an underground bunker. Figures that Jeremiah would be comfortable in a cave.
"Welcome to the Batcave."
"What the hell?" Jerome asks as he takes in the cave that must have been expanded recently, fresh excavation marks claw at the walls, but that's not what catches Jerome's attention the most.
"You're Batman?" Jerome asks as his eyes land on the suit propped against one of the walls.
"Yeah," Bruce shrugs casually as if he isn't admitting to casually breaking the law in the name of justice.
"And you're telling me that Jimbo has no idea? That's priceless." Jerome snickers.
"I have to be more careful around the GCPD," Bruce shrugs again. "If I get caught by the wrong cop, I could be thrown in Blackgate or Arkham for years."
"I wouldn't let that happen," Jeremiah vows. "What kind of person lets their best friend rot in prison?"
"I've taken you to Arkham multiple times," Bruce points out.
"Yes, but I can get out. And you wouldn't be you if you didn't believe in justice, darling."
"As long as you don't kill anyone, you won't need to be locked up," Bruce says plainly, to both Jeremiah and Jerome.
"You know from what I've heard Mr. Justice, that doesn't seem like the best idea. I mean lettin' guys like me and him just wander the streets," Jerome says, gesturing to Jeremiah as he does so.
"I know you won't kill anyone," Bruce practically sighs.
"Oh? Why not?" Jerome questions.
"Because the only people you kill are for a reason, and clearly no one's given you a reason for murder yet. And Jeremiah was only killing so I'd become who I was truly meant to be and so he could rebuild the city; he and I have worked out a truce. He doesn't kill, and he gets to use Wayne Enterprise's resources for his projects, and I don't report him to the cops."
"Seems like a good thing you've got going on," Jerome wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at his brother, who flushed slightly and looks away.
"What are you going to tell the GCPD?" Jeremiah says behind a cough.
"I'll tell him that Batman swooped in here and heroically saved the day and that you two miraculously got away."
"You're just gonna let me go?" Jerome clarifies.
"Yes, but if you hurt anyone innocent I will find you and you will go back to Arkham."
Jerome considers this, then nods, "Can I count on you to find me anyways?"
"You're a criminal in my city, I'll be keeping tabs," Bruce says.
Jerome suddenly starts back up the stairs, "Well, see ya guys later, places to be 'n all that."
"Where are you going?" Bruce shouts after, following a few paces behind.
"I've got big things to plan, Brucie. Make my resurrection well known, get my cult back, you know all that stuff. Oh! And I'm gonna check out 'Miah's base!" Jerome calls back, already leaving through the front door.
That catches Jeremiah's attention, who bolts after his brother.
He stops at the doorway, "You should've used the damn codeword."
"I did, the codeword was my name, the first thing that Jerome said to me when he saw me," Bruce crosses his arms, Jeremiah looks a little sheepish but doesn't comment on it further.
"I'm really terribly sorry, Bruce. I promise I'll be back for dinner some other time," He says instead, chasing to catch up with his brother before Jerome can brainwash his followers back into his cult.
"I'm counting on it," Bruce says with a barely there half smile.