Chapter 10: Medical Question?

Jack Kadere slung his arm casually around Harley Quinn's shoulders as he faced Barbara Gordon, who stood seething in her Batgirl suit. Her eyes practically sparked with fury, as though she were about to launch into a full-blown tirade. Jack couldn't help but smirk.

"What the hell are you laughing at?" she snapped.

"You show up here, insult me, and then act like I owe you something?" Jack leaned forward, grin widening. "You're starting to sound like a bitter ex. Problem is… I don't recall ever dating you."

Barbara's eyes blazed. "After the way you treated me? Pretending like it's nothing? You're a bastard. A selfish, arrogant, manipulative—"

"A bastard, huh?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Sure. But remind me again—what does that have to do with you?"

He tilted his head and smiled, amusement flickering in his eyes. "It's funny, because the way you're acting right now? It's like you were dumped after being played with. And I'm pretty sure I didn't play with you. Not yet, anyway."

"I would never be with someone like you!" Barbara snapped.

Jack shrugged. "Shame. You might've liked it."

Barbara looked ready to explode.

"So," Jack continued casually, "are you here to recruit help saving Gotham, or did you come just to yell at me?"

She opened her mouth—then hesitated. Her anger hadn't gotten her anywhere, and now she was caught between pride and necessity.

"Don't act so smug," she muttered. "It's not like we need you. We can save Gotham without you."

Jack raised a hand and pointed directly at her. "No, you can't."

Barbara froze.

"You tried tracking me down through some half-baked signal relay, just hoping I'd step in. That was a pretty obvious sign you're out of options. And last time? You stormed off in a cloud of smoke and ego. Wasn't exactly a convincing recruitment strategy."

He leaned back, folding his arms. "And maybe skip the next smoke bomb. Waste of gear. You're not some vampire disappearing into mist."

Behind the cowl, Barbara's face darkened. She hadn't expected him to cut so close to the truth.

"Let me guess—you didn't tell Gordon about me the first time because you were embarrassed, right? But now things are worse. Batman's out of action—crippled, I'm guessing—and your dad's finally pushing back, gathering whatever allies he can. So now? Now you have no choice but to come back to me."

Barbara's silence said it all.

"You didn't even try to stay hidden this time," Jack said, voice lowering. "So either you're confident enough to reveal yourself to everyone—or you're desperate. And seeing as you're standing in my living room instead of a rooftop, I'm guessing the latter."

Barbara clenched her fists.

"Look," Jack said, his tone still casual but with a hint of steel, "I get it. You've got pride. You trained under Batman. You're used to being in control. But Gotham is falling apart. And you're not going to stop Bane, or find that reactor, without help. You came here for a reason. So drop the attitude."

He paused, then grinned. "Honestly, if you want my help, shouldn't you be asking nicely? Who gave you the confidence to show up here yelling at me—Celine Dion?"

Harley blinked. "Wait… who's Celine Dion?"

Jack waved it off. "Never mind. Just someone who sings about heartbreak and makes people believe in love. Completely irrelevant."

Harley nodded, still puzzled but intrigued.

BBarbara fell silent. She hadn't expected Jack Kadere to see through her so thoroughly. After their last encounter, she hadn't told her father—Commissioner Gordon—about him. Maybe it was pride, maybe a sense of personal failure. But Gotham's situation had continued to deteriorate. When Gordon began rallying every available ally for a final push against Bane's forces, Barbara had no choice but to mention the mysterious man with terrifying reflexes and dead-on marksmanship.

Gordon had heard whispers about Jack—an outsider who'd carved out his own territory in the chaos. Ruthless. Efficient. Dangerous. If even Barbara, trained personally by Batman, had been overpowered by him, then Jack was a resource they couldn't afford to ignore.

That's why she came back.

Before arriving, Barbara had told herself not to lose her temper. She needed Jack's help. Gotham needed it. But seeing his smug face again… she cracked.

"Huff..."

Barbara exhaled sharply, trying to bury the anger. "If you're willing to help us save Gotham," she said, her voice steady now, "then I'm willing to apologize."

Jack clapped slowly, mockingly. "Look at you—righteous, noble, self-sacrificing. Truly shameless," he said with a grin. "So if I don't agree, you just keep your apology? You can insult me freely, and it only counts if I comply?"

Barbara's jaw tensed. She opened her mouth to respond, but Jack waved her off.

"Spare me the explanation," he said. "I don't care about your apology. But if you want my help, you'll have to answer a question."

"A question?" Barbara asked cautiously.

Jack grinned, eyes gleaming. "Yeah. It's simple. My brother had a high fever that wouldn't go down. His body was rigid and he wouldn't stop twitching. So I shook him and shouted, 'Come on, bro, hang in there!' Then he started convulsing, vomited all over himself, and afterward became sluggish and curled up into a ball. What illness do you think that was?"

Barbara blinked. Was this some kind of... test?

A medical question?

She wasn't prepared for this at all. The symptoms didn't match any common condition she could think of—at least, not clearly. Fever, stiffness, vomiting, then lethargy. Maybe heatstroke? Meningitis? Was this a riddle or a trick question?

"If I get it right," she said carefully, "you'll help us?"

"Yes," Jack replied.

"And if I get it wrong?"

"There'll be another question," he said casually.

Barbara thought for a moment. "Is it… the flu?"

Jack smiled. "Congratulations…"

Her eyes lit up—then he finished.

"…You're wrong."

Barbara stared at him. "Wait—what?"

"If it's not the flu, then what was it?" she demanded. Her brain raced, trying to find the logic.

Jack leaned back, utterly entertained. "You sure you want the answer?"