"Bats, I'm scared," Jack admitted, pacing back and forth of the kitchen of their mansion. Bruce had relocated them to England after realizing what the Joker had told him almost a year ago was true: They completed each other. Now that same man, the same one he had spent years fighting in the dead of the night in Gotham City, the same one he had thrown in Arkham Asylum more times than he could count, wore a matching silver band on his left hand, his face devoid of any of the greasepaint that previously gave him the guise of the Joker.
Bruce sighed, knowing his husband only reverted to those nicknames in two cases: Either when he was nervous, or he was going through a relapse. This time, though, it seemed to be the former. "Jack, come here," the billionaire sighed, gathering the smaller man in his arms, his fingers carding through the honey blonde curls. "There's nothing to worry about."
The man in his arms let out a peal of hysterical, desperate laughter, almost as if the Clown Prince of Crime was trying to make a comeback. "Nothing to worry about?" Jack looked up at his lover, his brown eyes wide as shortened giggles fell past his lips. "Batsy, you want to start a family. What's more, you want one of the kids to be biologically mine."
"What's wrong with that?"
Jack's brown eyes locked with the blue of his husband's, all traces of the nervous, psychotic mirth gone from those orbs. "I'm not sane; you know that better than anyone. I've tortured, murdered, and tormented people for my own pleasure. I'm so fucked up and I wouldn't want to even risk passing that on to a child… my child," he whispered, as if the idea was unfathomable.
Bruce brought a hand up to cradle his husband's face, his thumb stroking across the scar on that side gently. "Jack, why do you think I've waited until now to bring this up? You've gotten better!" He pressed a soft kiss to the other man's lips. "I have no doubt that you would be a perfect father. You just have to trust me. More importantly, you have to trust yourself."
Jack pushed himself away from Bruce. "What if I snap again, huh? What if I relapse? That's a murder I don't want to be responsible for, Bruce."
"You think I haven't thought of this?" Bruce pulled his husband back into his arms, rubbing the smaller man's back gently as he shook with silent sobs. "I just need you to trust me, okay, Jack?"
Jack looked up at his former rival, his eyes shining slightly with unshed tears. "Okay," he murmured, leaning back in to connect their lips again. "I trust you."