Steve had defeated every Joker Gang member who joined the fight, but he himself was far from unscathed.
Even with the specially made combat suit provided by Vought, his gear had been damaged during the battle. The exposed parts of his skin were covered in bruises and knife wounds, and he eventually dropped to his knees, completely drained.
Just then, he felt a large figure slowly approaching him. Still on alert, he instinctively tried to prepare for another fight, but his body could no longer muster any strength. He could only lift his head with difficulty and look toward the person coming closer.
Green, scale-covered skin. A ferocious appearance. A wide, gaping mouth filled with sharp teeth.
It was Killer Croc, one of the earliest members of the Joker Gang.
"Not bad," he said.
Steve tensed, expecting an attack. But instead of violence, Croc offered praise.
"You..."
"Don't get me wrong. Joker's not interested in you. And neither am I."
There was admiration in his eyes as he looked at Steve.
Sure, Croc could have taken down that many gang members and enhanced goons too, but that was expected of him.
He was Killer Croc, a genetically mutated and monstrously strong man. His scale-covered skin gave him an edge that even someone like Steve, who had pushed the limits of what a human could achieve, simply couldn't match.
But Steve had done all this with the body of a regular man, enhanced or not. As long as there was no direct conflict of interest, Croc wasn't shy about showing his respect.
After all these years in the Joker Gang, he wasn't the same reckless beast who used to eat people alive just because he was annoyed.
"Joker prepared what you're looking for. Come with me."
Croc had come over partly because he respected Steve, and partly because Joker had asked him to.
"Cap... Captain... don't leave me here alone!"
The man who had watched the entire battle finally snapped out of it. He rushed over and tried to cling to Steve's leg, just like he had at the start.
This time, however, he didn't make it.
A heavy metal wrench flew down from the platform above and slammed into the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted everywhere. His whole face was drenched in red as he collapsed to the floor, wailing in pain.
"Shut up, you spineless piece of trash!" a Joker Gang member shouted.
He glared at the man with clear disgust. In his view, someone like Steve, who had just taken down so many of their comrades on his own, deserved a certain level of respect. That coward? He had no right to interrupt their conversation.
Steve could only watch quietly.
He didn't even know what to say anymore. All he could do now was hope the gang wouldn't kill him. Beyond that, it was out of his hands.
"Alright. Let's go." Steve gave a slight nod and followed Killer Croc out.
* * *
A while later, after he had caught his breath from the brutal battle, Steve found himself in Joker's private room inside the base.
But what shocked him was the sight that greeted him. Joker had completely changed his appearance.
The clown makeup was gone. Standing before him now was a neatly dressed old man in a black suit, white gloves, and silver hair. His face was kind and composed.
"Alfred? What… what happened to you?"
Steve was baffled. He couldn't wrap his head around how a person could change so drastically in such a short time. It wasn't just the demeanor; Joker's formerly pale skin and the scars carved around his mouth had completely vanished, something that shouldn't have been possible to heal so fast.
"I have my methods," Alfred said calmly, reading Steve's thoughts, but such secrets weren't something he planned to reveal.
Then, he handed over two files. These were the same documents Tony had seen ten years ago.
"This..."
One file contained reports and photos of the Howling Commandos from Steve's era. He could still name every face. The other showed a photo of Bucky appearing in Gotham decades later.
Hard proof.
Even Steve, after seeing both documents, came to the same conclusion Tony once had; Bucky had become a Hydra assassin.
He desperately wanted to know why. In his memory, Bucky had fallen from a train into a deep ravine. He had assumed his friend died that day.
But clearly, he wasn't going to get that answer here.
He asked Alfred several more questions, hoping to find some clue, but was left disappointed. Aside from confirming the photo of Bucky appearing in Gotham decades later was real, the man offered nothing else useful.
"Then I'll be leaving now."
With the truth in hand, Steve had achieved what he came to Gotham for.
"In that case, Killer Croc and I will walk you out. I'd rather not have you wandering into my lab again."
* * *
As they stepped out of the base, Steve saw that the man he had earlier tried to protect had also been brought to the entrance.
"I'm giving him to you. And I've got a little gift as well."
Alfred pulled a remote from his pocket and handed it to Steve.
"There's a micro-bomb implanted in his spine. The controller's yours now. What you do with it is up to yo—"
"This kind of test is meaningless, Alfred." Steve cut him off sharply, seeing right through his malicious intentions. Only the man with the bomb in his spine looked truly terrified, his face pale with fear.
Walking forward a few steps, Steve looked back one more time.
"Alfred, you clearly have reason and a sense of justice. Why turn yourself into this?"
But that question was never meant to be answered. Alfred simply turned and walked back into the base with Killer Croc. Steve stood in silence for a moment, then grabbed the frightened man and began heading toward the GCPD.
* * *
Not long after, at the GCPD.
Harvey had already left. He'd only come to drop off some files.
Commissioner Gordon was also just about to clock out when he saw a familiar figure walking toward the station, dragging a man with him.
"Captain? What happened?"
Steve, still shaken by the fact that Bucky had become a Hydra assassin, was in no mood for small talk. He dropped the man on the ground.
"Commissioner Gordon. This guy has a micro-bomb implanted in his spine. I brought him from Alfred's base. He's yours now."
"Huh?"
Before Gordon could process it, Steve had already turned and walked away.
"Alfred... Isn't that Joker?" He muttered. "Someone! Get this man to the underground isolation chamber. Cut off all signals!"
Steve might have the guts to trust that Joker wouldn't mess with the bomb. But Gordon wasn't about to take that kind of risk.
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