Sometimes I forget how bad it is for Victor Fries. On his better days, I can almost see the man he mustâve been before, and I like that man. I think I like who he is now, too, when heâs being nice. It makes me forget about the force of his despair. Except now I don't think I'm never going to forget again.
âBill,â he said to me today, âWould it be easier for you if you didnât have to take care of me anymore?â
I frowned. âWhat are you talking about?â
âIt would be easier, wouldnât it,â he said. âThis place is hellish enough. You shouldnât even be here.â
âYes, I should. I chose it. And I hate change.â I cracked a smile, trying to lighten the mood. âBesides, whoâs gonna look after you if I leave?â
The look he gave me was heartbreakingly gentle, with all the resignation of someone who knows exactly what theyâre in for. âDo something for me, and no one will have to. No one else needs to die because of me. You know that.â
âIâm not sure I like where this is going.â
âOpen the door, Bill,â he said, his voice hypnotically smooth. âLet me go.â
My blood ran cold. âWhat?â
âItâs warm out there,â he said. He sounded wistful, eyes fixed on a point beyond me. âI havenât felt warm in so long.â
âYes," he whispered. "Keeping me alive is a waste. I donât want to be here, Bill. Thereâs no way to reverse my condition, and even if there was, I wouldnât be the man I was again. As long as I suffer-â and here he looked straight into my eyes, â-Gotham will suffer, too. And you couldn't carry that on your conscience. Just open the door, and let me walk out.â
My jaw dropped. I searched his face for anything that would say he was making some sick joke, and couldnât find anything.
âDr. Arkham wouldnât do it,â he continued. âDr. Strange said no, too. But youâre a sensible man, Bill. You know this is whatâs best.â
I was shaking like a leaf. âYou canât ask me to do this. I can't do this."
âYes, you can,â he urged. âThink about how much better off you'll be if you do."
"I'm thinking more about my conscience," I shot back. "And your life."
He shook his head. "You're a good man. Your sins will balance out."
"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that." Then I tried to inject some levity into the situation, because it was sorely needed. "Come on, who else is gonna listen to me talk about all the scrapbooking I'm not doing?"
I could've sworn for a second that I saw his mouth twitch up into a very, very faint smile. I knew that I was being pretty selfish about the whole thing, but if Fries couldn't be bothered to give a shit about himself, I needed to find something else he could care about.
"I'm not letting you out," I said firmly. "And don't ask anybody else to do it, either. I'll kick your ass."
His smile got a little bigger. "You can try."
I'm sure this won't be the end of it, and we'll have this conversation again at some point. But I think I won this round. And now I need a stiff drink.