Frank Castle looked around the bar. It was full of unusual characters, some of who definitely weren't human, or even organic. But Castle had seen a lot of strange things in his life, from robots to aliens to demons, and all of them had shared a single and very important trait: they could be killed. And none of them had managed to kill him--not permanently, anyway.
Normally, he'd be checking for possible exit routes and doing threat assessment, but neither really applied at the moment. The walls were lined with doors, too many to keep track of, and he'd been informed some sort of metaphysical mumbo-jumbo made violence between patrons impossible. He'd tested that by attempting to punch the server who'd told him in the face, and been surprised to learn he couldn't.
The Crossover. A multiversal bar with an imposed truce, a true neutral ground. He could see the tactical advantages such a place would provide to those who frequented it, especially if those customers were engaged in criminal activity.
Castle's attitude toward criminals was less forgiving. The beings here would leave, eventually--and the Punisher had a long memory.
Still, not everyone present was a black hat. And some, even though hailing from a another reality, were very well known indeed.
The table in the corner held one occupant, a masked man with an untouched drink in front of him. Castle approached cautiously, his hands in the open. If anyone could find a way to cheat the rules in this place, it was this guy.
"Mind if I sit?" Castle asked.
The man in the cowl studied him for a second, then growled, "Go ahead."
Castle sat. Glanced at the bat symbol on the man's chest, then down at the skull emblem on his own. "Mine's scarier."
The smile was unexpected. "I don't usually give them time to be scared. It's more something to remember me by for the next time."
"I don't do next times."
"So I gather."
"You know who I am?" That was interesting. Castle didn't think his rep extended to other universes.
"I make it my business to assess any and all threats." A calm statement of fact, not bluster.
Castle nodded. "And I know who you are. The Batman. I've always wondered what it would be like to meet you."
"How do you know we haven't?"
"I'd remember something like that."
"I wouldn't be so sure. Time, memories, even reality can be altered. This could be our first meeting, or our hundredth. Or maybe I've met someone exactly like you from a different Earth."
"I suppose any of those things are possible. So what? I prefer to concentrate on more immediate problems."
"Am I one of those?" A hint of steel in his voice now, though his body language was completely relaxed.
"Even if you were, this wouldn't be the place to bring it up. But no, I don't have a problem with you. What I have is a question."
"I'm listening."
"Why haven't you killed him?"
The silence that followed seemed deeper than just an absence of sound. It spread out from their table, hushing voices around them in an expanding circle of quiet. It was the kind of question that preceded a violent explosion, of words or actions or both. It hung in the air like a held breath.
The Batman met the Punisher's eyes for a moment, but it wasn't a challenge; more like an acknowledgement or an admission.
"The Joker," Batman said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
"You should order a drink."
"Why?"
"Because the answer isn't as short and simple as the question."
"If you're going to deliver a lecture on the evils of murder--"
"I'm not."
Castle considered this, and then flagged down a server.
The Batman leaned back in his seat, and then began.
I was on my way to Arkham when the message began to play on the Batmobile's comms. All other systems shut down; I was forced to pull over and listen.
The message was from me.
"I know exactly what you're thinking," my own voice said. "You're thinking this is a trick. Hugo Strange will be the most likely suspect, though mindbenders like the Mad Hatter or Scarecrow will also be on the list. But it's what you were thinking about before this message played that I'm talking about.
"You're thinking about killing him.
"It's not the first time. Every time he escapes, every innocent life he takes, it's on your mind. As much as you loathe killing, you're a practical man. At a certain point, it becomes a numbers game--how many lives you're going to save versus the one you'll have to take. You've had this argument with yourself--and others--many, many times. I'm not going to go into a long list of the pros and cons of that argument now, because there's no point. You've committed them all to memory, anyway.
"And none of it matters, because tonight you're going to kill the Joker.
"Here's what will happen, afterward.
"You'll turn yourself in, of course. Gordon will refuse to press charges and release you. You'll make a public confession after that, and political pressure will force Gordon to issue an arrest warrant.
"That won't matter either, because the Joker won't stay dead.
"His first resurrection will be by Ra's al Ghul, via a Lazarus Pit. He's simply too valuable a weapon against you to be tossed aside. You'll salvage your secret identity with a clever cover story, assisted by the Martian Manhunter.
"The Joker will kill again. His employment by the Demon's Head will give him international scope, and his next attack will be a massacre in Paris. You'll hunt him down and consider his revival a chance to redeem yourself. No more Arkham, though--this time, you're determined to lock him away forever. You'll get Mr. Miracle to design an escape-proof prison, and have Superman build it at the South Pole.
"The Injustice Society breaks him out. His next rampage kills a thousand people.
"You exile him to the Phantom Zone. He's pulled out of it by a wizard ten thousand years in the future, steals a time machine, and comes back to personally kill your parents before Joe Chill can.
"You realize that containing him is an impossibility. It's a problem of reputation--both yours and his. You've made yourself into one of the most feared crimefighters in existence, and he's the one problem you can't solve. It makes him an irresistable resource, and with every escape, every rebirth, his legend grows. He's too big to fail.
"So you kill him. Again.
"They say the first murder is always the easiest. You'll discover that's true.
"His second resurrection will be by Lex Luthor, who will clone him many times over. Some of the clones will have super-powers. Lex is a businessman; he knows the power of a popular brand. The Joker will become a franchise.
"You'll hunt them down and kill them one-by-one, because they aren't really alive--at least, that's what you'll tell yourself. And at this point, you're committed. He's spreading, like a virus. You need to contain it.
"But like a virus, every time he comes back, he's stronger. You realize you're making the problem worse, and revise your strategy.
"You take the last surviving clone off Earth, to Takron-Galtos, the prison planet. You have round-the-clock surveillance by a hundred Daxamite guards at all times. He's locked in a cell meant to hold a mad god.
"Darkseid uses a boom tube to pluck him away.
"Darkseid has a court, but he's never had a jester. He finds the Joker amusing, because he's the only being he's ever met who isn't afraid of him. And the Joker has such interesting ideas . . .
"You're literally the only being in the universe who isn't surprised when the Joker assassinates Darkseid and steals his power. You also know you're the only one that can stop him.
"You contact John Constantine, and use him to get in touch with the Spectre. And then you double-cross both of them, using spells neither of them are aware you've studied, to have the Spectre leave its current host and jump into you.
"You meet the Joker near Saturn, where he's stopped to destroy the rings just for fun. The battle that takes place is as destructive as it is epic; most of the solar system doesn't survive. You defeat him, but it takes all the Spectre's power to restore things to how they were. The Joker escapes to another dimension.
"Then you make this message.
"You send it back through time.
"And you pray that you can make yourself listen."
The man in the cowl fell silent, his story done. Castle nodded once, slowly. "Okay. Even I know that some problems can't be solved with a gun. And a problem that size . . . well, I've got only two things to say."
"Which are?"
"First, I'm glad I'm not you. And second--if I were you, the problem never would have gotten that big in the first place. There's a reason I don't have a long list of enemies, let alone famous ones."
He got to his feet. "Good luck."
As the Punisher turned to leave, Batman spoke. "Castle. One last thing."
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're not me, too."
The Punisher grinned. "I heard you were smart."
He walked away, and didn't look back.
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