Title: Thanks for the Memories
Summary: …even though they weren't so great. A series of oneshots depicting Batman and Joker's ongoing fight of the insane and sane, and maybe even some other moments
A/N: This is not slash, at least I don't think it is… there is no romance or anything between Batman and Joker, but I'm not going to say that this isn't a Batman/Joker fic. And this isn't exactly a friendship fic either, but I don't know what it is! It's not slash, it's not friendship, it's just some good ol' Batman/Joker.
The title to this series is from the song Thnks fr th Mmrs by Fall Out Boy. Yes, I know that the song has nothing to do with this, but I just liked how the lyrics fit in. Speaking of songs and lyrics, each oneshot will start off with a set of lyrics from a few of my favorite songs, and each story will be based on them. Yes, usually the song will not necessarily have anything to do with the story. Most of the time, it would just so happen that the lyrics fit in well, so… yeah. Please review! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own.
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How cruel is the Golden Rule?
When the lives we live are only golden-plated.
And I knew that the lights in the city were too heavy for me.
Though I carried karats for everyone to see…
from Golden by Fall Out Boy
XX Golden-Plated XX
The alleys of the infamous Gotham city lit up with red and blue lights and the shrill scream of sirens as the many police cruisers zoomed by. Though Batman knew that the good cops meant well, he knew that their attempts to find the Clown Prince of Crime were futile. The Joker was just too smart to be caught that simply… like all the other times.
Batman ground his teeth together harder as he swerved the Batmobile through the dark, dank streets of Gotham himself. Though the police would probably not locate Joker, the clown had always had a knack of coming up to the Bat personally. After all these years, the madman still found all this fighting as some demented game. The thought sickened the vigilante. So many had died at the hand of this insane villain, and he still had the nerve to laugh in his own sick little world.
The clown had planted bombs in a building hosting a charity ball that night, a charity ball Bruce Wayne had just so decided to skip out on so he could work on tracking the certain Arkham Asylum escapee. Just as planned, the explosions went off, sending the party sky high in a cloud of red, fervent flames. No one had escaped.
What was strange about the whole thing was that no money had been stolen. Batman had searched the whole city, and there was no trace of a clown running away from the smoldering party with any goods… and it was a charity ball! The Joker was too smart to just blow up a party loaded with money without taking at least a penny.
Maybe he had just taken the penny... Maybe that was his sick punch line…
…No. He was too smart for that.
Batman brought the car to a screeching stop in a tight alleyway and slid out from his seat. The still somewhat burning building was only a few blocks away from where he was standing. Maybe the Joker would come to him now that he was just on foot.
He spent the next few moments running through the streets soundlessly. Scampering from alleyway to alleyway. Leaping from roof to roof. No Joker yet.
Maybe this wasn't Joker's doing. There wasn't any joke… Not that any of his jokes would ever qualify as a joke for that matter.
But it had to be him! Batman smacked the brick wall beside him with the side of his gloved fist.
"A little frustrated, are we Batsy?" came a somewhat raspy chuckle. Batman slowly turned to find the clown standing behind him down the alleyway. The trademark grin was plastered to his face, and he let out a guffaw. The Joker had finally come.
"What's your game?" Batman asked through gritted teeth, taking a few steps forward.
Another fit of laughter came. "Hahahahahahaaaaaa! Do you think irony is funny, Batsy?" the criminal questioned through his never-fading smile, arms spread wide.
Batman only plodded forward, snatched the clown from by the collar of his purple suit, and hoisted him into the air. The Joker's back collided with the hard brick wall as Batman brought him up to face him face-to-face.
"What do you want?" the vigilante growled menacingly.
Joker's smile only grew, and he did nothing to attempt to free himself from the Dark Knight's tight grasp.
"I said, do you think irony is funny? Hmm, Batsy? Do you think it's funny?"
The Caped Crusader could only stare.
The Joker continued. "'Cause I think it's just hilarious," he seethed, "for low scum like Gotham's rich kids to donate perfectly good money to low scum like the people in those stupid good-for-nothing charities! Hahahahahahaaaa!"
Boom. Batman's fist collided with the clown's face, and the Joker let out a gag.
"What are you talking about?" Batman rasped.
"You know what I'm talking about, Batsy! Heheheheheeee… You know that when those filthy little pukes spend their stupid good-for-nothing lives on the filth out there or wherever, they're doing nothing but showing off their good-for-nothing flare!"
Joker was obviously not in a good mood, but Batman wasn't understanding any of it.
"What does it mean to you?"
"What do you mean, what does it mean to me?!" the madman exclaimed pushing grasping at the vigilante's fist that was holding him in the air. "Why wouldn't it mean anything to me when those stupid little twits go out and show off their stupid little lives and get praised by everyone!? Everyone! Those little pieces of trash are no better than me! Me!! Hahahahahahaaaaa!"
What was he talking about?
The clown's guffaws slowly diminished into slow chuckles, then into soft snickers.
"You don't get, Batsy. Do you?"
Batman only glared, unsure of what to say or think.
"You don't get it! Do you!?" the man screamed, kicking the wall behind him. What was he being so rattled up about?
"They think they're better than me! Is that just it?! They think they're better because they've never stolen anything from a bank, or kidnapped a little child, or killed an innocent child!" He was breathing heavily now. Sweat was rolling down his pale white face.
There was an awkward moment of silence.
"You killed all those people," Batman muttered, "just because you thought they thought they were better than you."
The Joker let out what seemed to be a growl. "You still don't understand? Those dimwits think that giving a few million bucks to some hobos out in the streets makes them the heroes of the world, that it erases their wrongs! Their sins! It doesn't work that way, you know?! They're just as filthy as every mugger, robber, and insane maniac in Arkham and Black Gate! And yet the city loves them!" He pointed an accusing finger at the sleeping city above. "They should be the ones rotting in dark cells for years. They should be the ones getting persecuted! Not only us! They're no different! And yet they're praised, worshipped even! Tell me, Batsy! Why does that only seem wrong to me?! Why only me?!"
He was no longer smiling, and Batman had no idea how to answer. It was strange. He had never seen the madman show so such… emotion.
"Batman?"
The vigilante turned to his left to find police cars and a cop standing before him. He shoved the Joker to them, which earned him a grunt from the clown.
"And of all people, I thought you would understand, Batsy," the madman muttered as he was handcuffed, but he gave no struggle. Finally, just as he was being pushed into the police car, the same old insane grin found its way up to his white face. A cackle escaped from his lips.
"Hahahahahahaaaa!"
They should be the ones getting persecuted! Not only us! They're no different!
Maybe Joker had a point. In a way, he himself was no better than the thugs in the Asylum…
… but did that mean the Joker actually cared? Did the madman actually have a heart to care?
The officer was about to close the door on the clown, but Batman caught it, waving the cop off.
"Joker," he muttered.
The Clown Prince of Crime looked up with a crazed grin. "What is it darling?" he sneered.
There was a pause as Bruce thought of what to say.
"You're right," he finally murmured. Another pause. "The lives we live… They're only golden-plated."
The statement made Joker's smirk widen.
"So you do understand. Do you, Batsy? Hahahahahaaaaa! Too bad good ol' Brucie Wayne couldn't come enjoy the fireworks also. Hahahahahahaaa!"
Batman watched as the cruiser sped off, sirens blaring. He pondered the Joker's proposition. Strange how a madman like him would notice.
He was right, though. The lives they lived were only golden-plated, even his own. Even the Batman.
And what did that mean for Joker? That he also was also putting on an act for the world to see? Did he want the city to see an insane maniac? A psycho? Or was that just the outside? Was he better than that? Did he actually have good in him?
Batman left it at that.
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Joker had the back of his head resting on the top of the seat in the police cruiser so that he was staring at the ceiling.
The lives we live… They're only golden-plated.
How true was that? And how well said too!
It made a giggle escape his lips.
If the lives everyone lived were only golden-plated, what would that make good ol' Batsy? Who was he really? Was he the filth everyone else was, or was he better when opened up to his true self?
The thought made him laugh. Batsy was Batsy. He would always be Batsy, and Joker vowed to be satisfied with him if he was true trash or really golden inside. He didn't care.
Hahahahahahaaaaaaa!!