Author's Note: This story takes place on one of the negative Earths of the fictional multiverse. The concept of negative multiverses was introduced in the Batman: Metal story line. Everything in Batman's negative multiverse is doomed for destruction and decay, unlike things in the positive multiverse, so this story may not have a happy ending. Enjoy it anyway, though.

Disclaimer: this is fan fiction. I don't write for Batman; I wish I did, though!

No original characters are introduced.

This is an AU set in something like a negative version of Earth 3.

/

Earth -322

Jackie winced as the sharp metal projectile slowly sliced through his neck. Blood dripped on to the metal gloves of his cackling attacker.

"You're lucky I don't kill you today for what you said about me!" a gravelly voice announced.

The comedian remained silent as he was hoisted over the railing. His eyes and nose burned as they sensed the noxious chemicals.

"Would saying...I...I'm sorry, help?" the comedian asked.

In reality, Jackie didn't even remember the joke he told about Owlman. Harley helped him write some of his material, and he frequently took jabs at the Crime Syndicate as well as Gotham's other political and social ills. The people loved it, and it helped him keep the comedy club open, so why not?

His eyes burned, bringing him back to the moment. The comedian's mind raced as he tried to reason with his clearly insane critic.

"I said I was sorry. Look, if you tell me what I said, maybe I can make it right?" Jackie asked, continuing to plead. At this point, he was really just stalling for time, looking for a way out.

The comedian pushed against Owlman's armor looking for a weak spot or a chance to escape. He tried to hold his breath and not inhale the burning chemicals, but he eventually gave in, breathed deep, and became dizzy.

That's when he felt a sharp metal gauntlet collide with his face, slicing through his lips. Jackie winced as he tasted copper. He tried to speak as blood filled his mouth.

"Wha...what was that for?" he asked.

"That's for mocking me," Owlman said.

Jackie felt the powerful man loosening his grip. The comedian was now balanced precariously on the railing, the only things separating him from the noxious smelling unknown chemicals were the whims of this lunatic.

Piercing yellow eyes peered into Jackie's as the comedian felt himself losing his balance.

"...and this is for spreading lies about the CSA!" Owlman yelled as he pushed Jackie over the guard rail and into the chemicals.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" the terrified comedian screamed as he plummeted toward the boiling vat of unknown chemicals below. He felt his skin burning as the vapors contacted it.

Finally, he closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate.

This is it, isn't it?

The comedian hit the vat of chemicals with a splash and let out a blood curdling scream as the acids in the bath consumed him.

The clown like comedian smiled and giggled as he danced on stage, and his audience laughed with him. He took a bow with a flourish, his fancy suit and lace cuff links swaying, as he expertly caught some roses audience members threw. A roar of laughter pealed through the audience as he danced and talked about Gotham's corrupt politicians and crazy super criminals masquerading as heroes. He took a deep breath. It was almost like he could smell the laughter, and it smelled like some kind of intoxicating perfume.

Harley ran up and gave him a hug, then a passionate kiss. Very passionate.

"Harley, ha, I love you, too, but wait, wait until we get home, okay?"

Jackie slowly started to come to and noticed not Harley but some burly man giving him CPR.

Surprised, he started coughing and laughing uncontrollably. He wasn't sure if he was doing it because of the absurdity of the situation or just because he was nervous; it was almost like a reflex.

"You alright? We got some call about a body that washed up in Gotham harbor. From the description, we thought you were dead," the man said in a gruff sounding monotone. This was obviously business as usual for him.

That's when he noticed he wasn't wearing any clothes. It was hilarious, so he laughed again at the ridiculous predicament he was in. Then, he felt something strange in his head. His laughter immediately ceased, and he barely remembered what he was doing just a few minutes ago.

"I think so, but where am I? For that matter, who am I?" Jackie asked in a groan.

"We don't know. We couldn't find any ID. Hey, don't you want a blanket or something?"

Jackie noticed he was still naked and this time had enough sense to blush.

"Considering the circumstances, that might be a good..." he cut himself off and burst out laughing again.

"You okay, mac?"

"Yes...I'm fine, but for some, ha, reason, I'm finding this all ridiculously funny! Aren't you?"

A blanket was quickly thrown over the comedian to preserve a little bit of his dignity, while he racked his brain trying to remember recent events. For some reason, it just wouldn't come to him.

Jackie walked over to the glistening water of Gotham harbor and stared at his reflection.

I look like a clown.

Suddenly, he felt another fit of laughter grip him and he fell over gaffawing uncontrollably.

An ambulance arrived and carted the manic man to the nearest hospital.

Shrill piercing laughter echoed through the halls of the hospital as the patient was wheeled in.

"Sir, please control yourself!" one of the nurses snapped.

"I...ha...ha...can't...stop...I've...heard...of...the...expression...'to die laughing,' but...this...ha-hee-hoo...is...ridiculous! A ha ha ha!"

The ghostly pale man winced as someone shoved a syringe into his arm.

"OW!" he howled. For some reason, that little needle stick felt like a fire underneath his skin. It was easily one of the most painful sensations he had every experienced. After a few seconds, though, it started to feel good. He actually kind of wanted her to do it again.

"It's a steroid. It should stop the spasms you're having!" a nurse shouted.

Jackie winced and then looked at the needle and went into another fit of giggles. For some reason, everything was funny. He didn't know why.

I think I'm dying. For some reason, that is hilarious! The comedian thought as an agonizingly wide smile spread across his face.

The pale comedian watched as everyone's eyes started to focus on him in bewilderment.

They probably, ha, all think I'm a lunatic. Jackie thought.

The exam room was around the corner. The comedian was wheeled in and connected to machines to take his vitals.

"His blood pressure is extremely high," a nurse said.

"The heartbeat's also irregularly fast," another nurse said.

"The pattern his eyes are moving in indicate brain damage,"

"He ingested toxic levels of...I don't know what this chemical is!"

"There's an abnormal amount of lithium in his blood, and I can't identify the other metal,"

Jackie lay on the hospital bed and listened as the doctors and nurses continued to talk about everything that was wrong with him. His head started aching and it quickly turned into a delirium inducing migraine. The world started fading away.

It looks like this is it. At least I died happy. I don't know why I'm so happy, but that still counts, right?

He opened his mouth to breath but involuntarily laughed again before passing out.

The pale man awoke in his hospital bed to the sun hitting his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. A group of doctors walked in.

"Is he still alive? How?"

"We don't know. By all indications he should be dead. He was exposed to lethal levels of chemicals,"

Jackie sat up, mildly feeling like a circus attraction.

"Good morning, sir," one of the nurses said.

"Am I going to be okay, doc?"

"See, that's the thing..." the doctor said, trailing off.

"Yeah, doc?"

"There's nothing we can do for you," the doctor said in an unconcerned matter-of-fact way.

"Come again?" the pale man asked. Color would have drained from his face, but there wasn't any to spare.

"To put it bluntly, all of the tests indicate that you should be dead. You have a lethal amount of chemicals in your bloodstream, all of which should be attacking you and shutting down vital organs. We don't know how you're still alive or how long you'll survive. To be honest, when I saw your report, I thought it was some sad April Fool's prank," the doctor said.

The clown man stared at her.

"If you want to stay, we'd like to run additional tests to try and figure out this mystery. If not, you're free to go,"

The pale comedian made a hard swallow, but as the doctor's words rang in his ears, he noticed the absence of something. He wasn't afraid, even though he knew he should be. Instead, a smile crept across his face, and he stifled a giggle, almost like he was laughing at some kind of secret joke that no one understood.

Even he didn't get the joke, though.

Carefully, the pale man with no knowledge of his prior identity signed himself out of the hospital and wandered into the city.

The diagnosis read:

Condition unknown

Status: M-E-T-A

The man had no idea what that meant or any idea who he was or, for that matter, how long he had left to live. The whole situation felt like one big sick joke.

He fell to his knees and again began laughing.

Author's Note:

So, what do you think of the story so far? Leave a comment or review. I'm open to feedback, positive or negative.